Hi, I’m Moose2016. I’ve been a fan of mind control sex for a long time. I love all kinds of fetishes and types of stories ranging from sci-fi, to brainwashing, to drugs, to pretty much anything. For those of you who read Kris P Kreme, I have had him write some custom requests for me (Mickey’s Sinister Serum was one of my ideas, but he made it real and deserves the credit for it being the great story it is). But after having had my ideas written up I decided to try my hand at this myself. I hope you enjoy. Please feel free to email me with ideas, issues, or just to let me know you liked it or not. All of these stories are mine so if you want to use them please ask first.
The Birth of Super Pimp
Chapter I
Dr. John Cavers sat at his work station in the bowels of the Platinum Corporation and quietly read over some print outs. He was a man a habit and he liked using paper copies to read and jot notes on and given that he was one of the most brilliant scientists in the world his boss, Trisha Platt, was more than willing to let him have his little idiosyncrasies. His work in genetics, human behavior, the human mind and various diseases had revolutionized the world of medicine several times over and had made the corporation tons of money.
His current mutterings out loud though were about some data that was a pet project of Ms. Platt’s that he had agreed to work on in his spare time. Ms. Platt had asked him in confidence on behalf of the Center City’s Super hero group the Hidden Five to work on a theory. Center City, while being a very modern and rich city also had an extreme reputation for vice. It had been the last location in the state to outlaw it and it had been openly flaunted for years. The Hidden Five had made it their top priority to destroy it and had been somewhat successful with the arrests of several notorious pimps and human traffickers. But others kept popping up, and while they were much reduced and nearly cornered, vice still seemed to live on.
The Hidden Five had become convinced that the desire to be a pimp was actually genetic. Not that you were born to be a pimp, but that with certain genes and the right environment certain individuals would embrace the pimp life and be successful at it. Their request was that Dr. Cavers find this gene and see about finding a way to remove it or somehow block it. You could then, the idea went, actually treat pimps and reform them into something else.
So for the last year Dr. Cavers had been gathering DNA samples of the city’s (and even the world’s) most notorious and successful pimps, along with huge amounts of interviews, information, and written documents on how pimps felt, did business and what made them, their women, and their customers tick.
Utter waste of time. I am certain I am near a breakthrough on my research in cancer cells, but I keep having to come back to this. I really need to put my foot down with Ms. Platt and get this sent off to someone else. Dr. Cavers said to himself out loud (another odd habit of his).
Dr. Cavers had to relog onto his terminal. He had a small office deep underground in the Headquarters building of the Platinum Corporation that was linked into the main supercomputer which was currently running some of his numbers. It was the most powerful computer on earth, more so than even government classified systems, but that was a very carefully concealed fact known only to a handful of people. Even fewer knew that it actually had a crude A.I. that was used solely for special projects as an automated assistant so the number of people working it could be kept to a minimum.
At this point several things happened that would have a very massive effect on Center City and eventually the world. First, Dr. Cavers started multi-tasking several projects at once. He pulled up the special Vice project on Pimps. At the same time, he also started working on his cancer cell study, which was currently dealing with replication of cells and a theory he had that could turn dangerous cancer cells into healthy cells instead and cause them shut off when enough healthy cells had been created. If his theory was right, he could turn cancer into a method to regrow damaged or dying body parts. Second, he pulled out his old headset with microphone. He had had it for years and much preferred to use it than the many speakers in his office. He plugged it in so that the A.I. would only listen to his mike. Just as he was settling down his email dinged with an important email. The third event was that when he rolled his chair away his headset cord got tugged a bit and partially dislodged. Instead of being able to clearly make out what he said, the A.I. was only getting partial words and worse, the headset in which the A.I. verbally communicated was actually disconnected fully.
Dr. Cavers, as his habit started reading an email about how he was past due on a security test and his account would be suspended at midnight unless he finished. He really started muttering then about the idiocy of the IT section.
And the A.I. started to take commands…
I swear, this computer testing needs to stop being such a waste of time and begin being used for its proper use. Dr. Cavers said out loud.
The A.I. heard Computer needs to being use. And replied with a Yes, computer is standing by for instructions. But with the cord partially out, Dr. Cavers had no idea that the computer was even logged on.
It’s bad enough I have to mix my time with cancer cell replication and the Vice project.
Computer heard Mix cancer cell replication with Vice Project. And responded with Query, what is desired end state of project?
Seriously. Grown people thinking Pimping is genetic. Having to waste my time reading that mix of data on pimping, pimps, hookers, sex, and johns and those DNA samples. What are they thinking I am going to find? Some gene that is the key to making a man a pimp? And then what? Make an injection to cure what makes people pimps or hookers or johns. God forbid I succeed. Think of what you could make a person into! That would be super, people being made into a pimp or hooker or john. Bah!
The computer heard Pimping is genetic. Mix data on pimping, pimps, hookers, sex, and johns and DNA samples to make a man a pimp. Make an injection to make a person into super pimp.
The A.I. calculated the response and responded with End state is understood. Beginning process now. Process complete in 30 minutes.
Dr. Cavers heard none of this and had stopped muttering as he focused on his class. Even for something as mind numbing as a required training class, he still tended to focus hard. So he missed all the work being done in several remote labs by the A.I. Exactly 30 minutes to the second, the A.I. announced Injection prepared. Please specify test parameters.
After a minute of silence Dr. Cavers started to mutter again as he completed his on line test. This test is a waste of time. Allowing someone to skip straight to the final test would be a much better process. I should be the one allowed to take a final test and then just complete it quickly. I need to bring this up to the IT department so they can fix it.
The computer A.I. heard Test waste of time. Skip straight to completion quickly. I need it.
Instructions understood, prepare for injection. Subject needs restraining due to possible violent reactions. the computer intoned as several mechanical arms reached out and grabbed Dr. Cavers from behind.
Dr. Cavers started and thrashed violently. His jerking caused the first arm to close on his headset and rip if off, thereby removing any chance of his shouted command to be heard. Several other arms secured him to his chair and wheeled him over to the glass window looking into the isolation lab. He stared a vial of purple fluid and watched in horror as a hypodermic lower and filled up. It then was cycled through the airlock, picked up by another arm and Dr. Cavers watched in horror as it injected straight into his jugular.
For a split second nothing happened. And then Dr. Cavers was racked by convulsions. His body felt like it was on fire one second, and then a block of ice the next. All the while, bizarre images, ideas, and knowledge flooded his brain. His intellect warped from knowing genetics to how a find a bitch’s G-spot, from a in depth understanding of all human genomes to an in depth understanding of how to spot a girl who could be turned into a hooker with just a little taming and some hard fucking, his concern for helping mankind turning to helping his fellow men get laid, for a price. All that data from every pimp on the planet was crammed into his brain and his genius was rewritten to fully use that knowledge.
Genetically was where the real action happened. Dr. Cavers would never know it, but he was right in that there was no Pimp gene. At least, there hadn’t been. There was one now and it rewrote his whole body. He grew in size, his sex drive went sky high, and his man hood became the stuff of legends. The A.I. had spliced in a bunch of non-human DNA that had increased his animal magnetism to something off the charts. He was beyond an Alpha male, he was THE male. His mannerisms, his body, his scent, they would overpower any normal woman’s sex drive and once he used his vast knowledge and genius to fuck them they would be his bitches forever.
After a few minutes the shaking stopped and the A.I. released the former Dr. Cavers. The man stood and stretched, his 6 foot, 6 inch frame ripped with muscles, his skin a dark Mediterranean tone, and his penis hanging nearly 14 inches long. He chuckled, a deep sound, as he looked around.
Sheeeeet, totally not what DC was specting. Let’s see what HAL knows bout diss. The former Noble Prize winner went over to the computer and used the keyboard to check out what had been done. He figured that his voice might trigger an alarm since his voice was different that the man he had been. After a short while, he repressed a laugh, and proceeded to wipe the A.I.’s memory clean using the Doctor’s Top level access to do so. He then proceeded to check out what the other data had been made into.
Damn! Dis here super-puter has made a instant Ho spray! One shot o dis shit and any bitch instantly gets the combined knowhow of damn near a dime’s worth of hookers! From high class to street trash! I won’t have to train ma bitches or even break em! And dis stuff will make any man a instant John! Dey become overcome with lust an wanna do nuthin but fuck dey brains out! With dis shit, I’m gonna be the greatest Pimp evah! A SUPER-PIMP! DC the Super Pimp!
The former noble prize winning scientist laughed for a few seconds and then started tapping more commands into the computer.
Needs to gets me some proper clothes and bling. Can’t be owning the streets looking like some lab rat nerd. Dr. Cavers, now DC in his mind thought to himself. He quickly had the computer create him a proper pimp’s suit, and proper bling. He was soon admiring himself in lab mirror and grinned.
He was a wearing a dark red tux with black trimming, he had an open chest shirt that exposed his muscled, hairy chest, and a red foxskin broad rimmed hat. He had a pair of gold shades on, and a set of fine leather cowboy boots with gold tips. He had a big gold chain and medallion, a polished cane with a gold tip and carved gold handle, and numerous rings. His cane, medallion, and rings were all custom build to spray different formulas. He also had a gold cigarette case with cigarettes laced with the drug. He could blow it on someone or have them smoke it and have himself a new Ho or a new customer. And on top of it all he had several spray bottles of the stuff and some perfume for his ho’s that would make men horny.
A few more computer inputs and he was done. The A.I. would make him more stuff and would deliver it to an address he would input later from a backdoor remote access he installed. It would also allow him to us the computer to hack networks, launder money, and otherwise help him secure a Vice empire the likes the world had never seen.
Just as he finished, and turned to go the outer office monitor turned on to indicate someone had entered the area. He had a private suite for his work, but it opened into a small computer lab for others to use. He observed for a second and then smiled.
Well, well, looks like I gots me my first hooker recruit.