The Final Chapter — Prettier is Coming
“So, how do I look?”
“You are gorgeous, Mistress Kylie.”
It feels so weird. Even after all I’ve been through, it feels so weird. What am I talking about? Mascara, ruby earrings, pink lipstick and a fancy suit with a long skirt and a butterfly bow. It’s much more masculine than my Caroline costume, but hard to say anything looks masculine on me with the F-cup udders I’m sporting. The me from two years ago would sucker punch me if she saw me like that.
Because I’m truly feminine now. I’m also just a few pegs short of a sex slave, true, but that’s only one delicious part of my job. Two weeks ago, for reasons I still don’t completely get, my ex-husband, owner of the Prettier World Foundation, gave me executive control of it. Sex slave and CEO. Now that’s an interesting resume.
I’m something of a puppet, obviously. Unlike Emily, who took care of hiding her identity, and conducted every business through computers so our submissive programming wouldn’t kick in, I am out in the open. I’m still somewhat in love with the company’s owner, and I am all but doting to his wife. Every employee in the island can walk into my garden and fuck a raise out of me. Nobody did, so far, but still, they totally could.
I am loving, submissive, and in charge of a shadowy corporation that strives for active modification of humanity. How in the Tetragrammaton does that work? Well, I have a few ideas, and that’s why I’ve dressed up. I walk up to Selena, who took up the role of my robot servant, and give her a slow, romantic kiss.
“Thank you, Thalia.”
Terri told me everything while she was reprogramming Emily. Selena sure as shit wouldn’t spill the beans. I seriously had no idea that all along, the Coppelia’s fiery redhead was an artificial personality for a pathologically shy girl. But now that I know...I can’t bring myself to call her by her fake name. I love the robotic persona she has assumed, but I want to know the real one. She hasn’t resurfaced yet, but I hope she will warm up to me, in time.
“Well, it’s time. Watch my daughters while I’m gone, okay?”
“I will, Mistress.”
I walk out of my cabin. I don’t know if it still suits me, since I didn’t play the farmhand card for a while, but I like the place nonetheless. In the distance, my two sweethearts, Pearlie and Emily, splash each other with water, oblivious to any bad feeling. I take a detour so they don’t see me, or I’ll waste all morning feeding their greedy little mouths. I can’t fault them for loving my milk, but I am expected elsewhere.
The biometric scan recognizes my handprint, and I walk out of the Coppelia. The sun shines bright on Paradise Island. Carlyle’s brutal murder still shows up in the back of my mind, but my reformed, gentle heart whispers to me that it wasn’t my fault. Evil Kylie seems so distant now...Still, looking upon the island, my island...God help me, but killing him was worth it.
I walk down the vista’s stairs, past four alabaster statues, and into the main building. The Foundation has done such a great job with the place. Instead of a bombastic, Vegas-like hotel in the middle of the Pacific, we have a cross between a hotel and the Parthenon. Everything is white, sparkly clean and solemn. It’s still a luxury resort, but with a distinctively classy feel to it. Which is fitting since the PWF is essentially a well-meaning supervillain. Still, indoor gardens are always impressive. On the second floor, Lawrence Setton, along with a few superfluous security guards, are waiting for me.
“Ah, here you are, Ma’am.” Says the programming specialist. “Everyone is here. You look fantastic.”
“Thank you, Sir. And I know it’s hard not to, but...drop the ma’am. I’m the sex slave here.”
“You’re far more than that, Kylie...”
“Oh, quit the act. I’m not going to pretend like Emily. We Pretties are more than CreaMinds’ empty-headed slaves, sure, but we are still slaves. It’s just that love is a wonderful thing to be a slave to.”
“Well, sorry, but...I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that my boss would gladly give me a titfuck if I asked her.”
The utterly professional Human is blushing. He’s adorable.
“So, last night’s ‘thank you for saving me’ fuck was great, but you’re still Madam.”
“Suit yourself, Sir.”
I step into the auditorium’s back door, and into the stage. Damn. An entire theater, filled to the brim. In Carlyle’s day, it displayed big-screen smut and the occasional blockbuster, but now, the big white backdrop is just a useless prop. In Paradise Island, you come to see the Pretties, not watch movies. Why am I even talking about this? The entire staff, and all the Pretties besides my two little girls, is waiting for me.
I flick into the microphone. It’s working. Good. Now what the fuck am I going to say?
“Ahem. First, thank you all for coming.”
Dammit, I swear I prepared this. Sure, I didn’t take notes, but it’s not like I needed them when I was in the murder business.
“So, huh, I went through the records when I wasn’t busy servicing customers and...Emily really was a bit of a bitch, wasn’t she?”
How is that a suitable opening statement to a solemn speech, Kylie? Fuck. Still, there seems to be enough nods in the audience. Guess Nicholas didn’t need to blackmail them all that much.
“I swear, I spent all those weekends with her and it never even once shone through that she was the kind of person who could track down people knee deep in the mafia hitman kind of debt and blackmailing them into working for her. She even forced you to rape away the first Pretties’ will, not to mention that fucking BrainTrust business. So yeah, she’s bad. What’s worse...she writes it away as some kind of volunteer work in her records. The old me was a psycho, but dammit, she never even once considered she was right.
So, huh...As you might now, Terri and Lawrence turned her into my cowgirl daughter. She’s mentally a child, since she doesn’t have any memories before her conversion, so she’s off limits to customers for now. She’s my little baby, and she loves her tail and horns. I’m uncomfortable with the idea of turning into a full-on cowgirl myself, since I’ve got responsibilities and all, but she’s proud of her form, and she’s too busy watching her breasts grow and looking forward to them start lactating, to come up with other fucked-up plans. Anyway, that’s enough of that...I didn’t gather you here today so that I could tell you about Emily. I’m here to talk about you.”
Murmurs in the audience.
“We can tell, you know? Aside from a few people like Lawrence and the tattoo artist, you employees clearly want nothing to do with the Pretties. You manage our customers, you take care of our shapely yet useless butts, You work until late night to bring us beer when we want to party...We Pretties owe you everything. And yet, you never show up.
I think I speak for all of us when I say : We get it. You have no choice but to work for an company that goes against every moral you know. You’re supporting sex slavery for a paycheck, and you have every right to hate that. We get it...But, we love you, you know?
For a while, I just plain assumed you were all completely into this, like you actively, purposefully looked for a job in a sex slave ring. Now I know that’s bullshit, of course, but even before I went through Emily’s stuff, I still loved you. As did Alyssa. As did Thalia. As did Terri. As did Pearlie. As did every Pretty in the company building. I know we were molded to feel nothing but love...But that doesn’t change shit. We love you.”
Okay, now it’s getting really awkward...But I need to tell them. I need them to understand what they mean for us.
“I was the kind of person they write sensationalist articles for. We all do stupid things when we are teenagers, but I was the only one that got into the assassin business because I couldn’t handle the guilt of not saving a fucking cat. I mean, can you believe it? All those lives, those consciousnesses I destroyed, just to run away from the fact that I’m a rock fuck stupid bitch. And I know I would never have awakened. Without intervention, I was headed straight for the death row.
And then Carlyle happened. I signed myself into your Prettification program to save my Dad, because even psychos have principles. Thing was, I had no idea the PWF was my true home. I saw you as just a bunch of tools crazy enough to believe women were at their happiest as sex bunnies. I never suspected you were totally right.
I resisted for a few days, because old habits and societal norms die hard, but I became a sex bunny. And that shit was the greatest thing that ever happened to me. Emily could have backed down on her deal, never revealed that I was my own owner, and sent me straight to Streamlining. I would never have had any suspicions. I would have become a model Pretty with another name, Like Kim or Nico or Sara or whatever, I would have seen my old life as meaningless, and I would have been the happiest prostitute in the world.
Unfortunately, Emily did not back down on her deal. I guess she was too proud. That she was certain I would stay. But as we’ve established, I am a rock fuck stupid bitch, and I went right back into my shitty life.”
I hang my head down. Dead silence. What a fucking mistake that was. Did I mutter that out loud? Maybe. No matter.
“And now, I have F-cup titties, permanent lactation, a motherly personality, and the love of my life is getting fucked by my ex-husband. By all accounts that’s a pretty shitty situation...But it’s what it took. It’s what it took to finally break me. I was shattered and rebuilt as a petite, busty woman who turns grown women into cute babies...And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
You saved me. Gave me the greatest, sweetest personnality I could ever hope for. I’m a slave, a Pretty, a shallow sex object, and yet, I’m so much more than the poor, twisted, feral wreck of a girl I was before that. I’m better. Happier. So believe me when I say, from the bottom of my heart...”
I bow.
“Thank you.”
Silence, save for a few throat clearings.
“Look, maybe we’re just poor, brainwashed victims led to believe the most twisted of lies. But that’s the thing—we believe them. We’re not humans anymore, we’re girls from a world where sex and love are the only things that matter. For us, the Foundation’s programming is the truth. The radiant path to genuine happiness. You could talk to any of us for any length of time and you would never squeeze words of regret out of us. You’re not slavers. You’re the saints who showed us the path.
And we want you to keep trailblazing it.
Emily believed in a prettier world as an utopia. As a brainchild she had to work towards. Craft from her own hands, even if she had to stoop at the lowest of levels to get it. For me, the prettier world is a way of life. It’s happiness. It’s...the right thing. And so I am convinced the world needs you. You are the forces of good. So, being your CEO? I know it sounds like PR hypocritical bullshit, but I’m just thrilled. I believe in the Foundation. I want to, and I will, do everything to help you create a prettier world. Because nobody believes in it harder than us Pretties. We want nothing but a world in which we can openly say to our parents what we have become. A world in which any woman can just up and decide to join us in blissful slavery. And I want all of you to understand how much this is true.
I think that’s a nice enough way to segue into my first real steps as CEO. First, Emily was seriously fucked in the head when it came to money. We have far more than we need to start the active citizen reprogramming plan, and I sure as fuck don’t need to buy a gold-plated private jet anytime soon. So everyone gets a 50% raise in both salary and paid leave days. Here.”
The silence keeps stretching for a bit, and then it’s fucking Christmas. The crowd just loses it. I can’t help but grin like an idiot upon seeing tears of joy on the faces of all these men and women.
“Yeah, I’m not going to roll with the Koch brothers. Second measure : You’re all getting entitled to a weekly fling with us Pretties. I don’t know how that’s going to be handled exactly, I mean we obviously have to work around the customers here. But I really want all of you to understand how grateful we all are. Sorry for the few women, though. We’re bisexual as fuck but I understand you don’t necessarily fling the same way. You can just come talk to us, though. It’s not like we’re going to rape you. We admire you, really.
So...what else do I have to say before I meet with the management staff to work over the details? Not much, I guess...Paradise Island opens to customers tomorrow, so let’s all work hard, okay?”
“Emilyyy! I’m hooome!”
It doesn’t take long before the door to the log cabin slides open, and the new and improved Emily-chan comes out.
“Mooooommyyy!”
She always was adorable, our little Emily. But now I know her look of utter innocence isn’t just a seeming. Nothing remains of the manipulative, proud figure who changed my life and then tried to ruin it. She’s just my good, pure little girl. So sweet and well-behaved... Pearlie can be needy, and in fact doesn’t really have the brain power to process things like patience and restraint, but Emily is just a sweetheart. She wants nothing more than to make me happy. Maybe Terri overdid the “perfect daughter” aspect of her new personality, but I’m not complaining.
It’s still a bit weird to see a bovine tail swing behind her and two horns coming out of her silky black hair, but I’m growing to love it. Her breasts have been set to attain my F-cup size eventually, but she’s starting from non-existent to slightly gnarly wooden plank. She still has months before she can be described as busty.
She runs into me and buries her face in my chest, letting out a little moo. I hug her. My little girl...I love her so much.
“How’s the meeting been, Okaa-san?” She asks, genuinely interested. I love her Japanese outbursts, though they tend to be less frequent than before her reprogramming.
“Very well, sweetie. The humans love me already. Has Pearlie been a good girl?”
“She plays with the new fishies you got her! She loves them, but, well, one hour ago she went sulking into her underwater roooooom because you were gone for too long...”
“Don’t make a face like it’s your fault, Emily. Mermaids just aren’t very bright, we can’t help it. They’re even closer to animals than you and I are.”
“I know, Mommy, I know...He he...”
She smiles, blushing.
“A human-sama must be so smart...I can’t wait to serve them!”
“I’m sure you’ll be great at that, sweetie. Now come, help me get out of these clothes...I feel like I’m going to burst!”
She happily skips behind me as I make my way to the cabin. I get out of the fancy suit and head straight for the bathroom. I haven’t been dressed that much for so long...I’m just filthy with sweat! Happily for me, shower time is even better than it was before. Because now, I have my baby’s company.
We slip into the stall, and fidgety little Emily relaxes. She knows that Mommy will take care of everything. She sits on the deployable seat, and closes her eyes, smiling. I begin to shampoo her hair. That’s all I’m going to do...wash her. The old me probably would have strived to make her grow out of her childish phase and resumed Coppelia sisters relationship. But Terri has programmed me well. I have three needs, in descending order of priority. Serving Alyssa, Being a mother, and being a Pretty.
What it means is that when I’m alone with my daughters and Selena, all my sex needs vanish in the background. Well, I still cum by brains out from being milked, but it feels so much better than sex, I don’t even consider it to be that. But milkgasms aside...I have a deep seated longing for the loving gaze of a daughter. A genuine daughter, even in the body of an adult. It’s strong. Insanely strong, in fact...A human with this level of desire for her daughter’s love would only be described as crazy.
A part of me that wants to resist Terri’s programming. But she’s amazing now. Such a quick learner...I remember the day just after I was appointed CEO. I was summoned to her office. She told me Emily was being mutated and reprogrammed, and that she needed to adjust my nurturing instincts a bit. Seemed reasonable...but she didn’t adjust them. She sent them into overdrive. I have become so utterly motherly...I can’t help but doing what I can to preserve that feeling forever.
What do I mean? Well...I’m infantilizing Emily. Every day, I work to make her utterly dependent on me. I wash her. I feed her. I read her a bedside story every night. I cater to her every childish whim, and discourage any independant behavior. I’m not making her dumb... I mean, I am keeping her immature, but I nonetheless teach her everything she needs to be a normally smart Pretty. But by the time her breasts have grown enough to begin service, I want her to be as smart as an adult, but as obedient and needy as a little girl.
Why has Terri done this to me? I don’t know...It’s probably just for the customers. Two women of nubile age acting like mother and daughter has to run afoul of at least five different fetishes. But it is not my place to question. She’s a Human now, and my programmer. As long as Alyssa gives the green light, her will is absolute.
And so I wash Emily, smothering her heart under a cocoon of motherly love. I know in the real world, that’d be fucked up, but, well, in Paradise Island, pretty much anything goes. If we’re both happy, who cares if it’s wrong? She sure doesn’t complain...And she’ll still be stronger and smarter than little Pearlie.
Finally, we’re all sparkly clean, and we both slip into swimsuits. A one piece for her, bikini for me. After all, it’s dinner time! Mmmh, I waited for that moment all day.
“Mommy? Can you help me put the swimsuit on? It’s tight...”
“Of course, sweetie.”
Yes...Those puppy eyes, they’re the ones I want you to keep forever, Emily-chan. You’ll be so happy as Mommy’s good girl. I gladly help her, and smile.
“You’re growing! Soon you’ll need a new swimsuit!”
“I hope it’s a B cup! Maybe even mooooore!”
“Just be patient, sweetie. You know cowgirls always grow to be at least F.”
“Of course I know that, Mama!” She smiles, wildly swinging her cow tail. “Anyway, we’d best go comfort Pearlie-chan, ne?”
“You’re right. That day of work has been hard on all of us.”
We make our way to the artifical body of water. From the surface, it just looks like a nicely decorated pond. To my mermaid girl, it’s a whole universe. Normally, just us approaching would be able to draw her out...But she is sulking. Bimbos are adorable when they’re angry!
I kneel over the water and flick on the surface. Since water carries sound better than air does, Pearlie has definitely heard it. My daughter and I go to the shallowest part of the lake, and we wait, cuddling.
Minutes later, we see a head with long, auburn hair breach the Veil. Pearlie’s eyes, the only part of her face above the water, look at me accusingly. In response, I only make my udders jiggle. At first, Pearlie pouts, pretending to look elsewhere. But when I sloooowly strip, making a show of revealing my areolas, desire overloads her fluffy brain and she swims over to our small pool.
“Pearlie’s angry with you!” She squeaks. “Work and hard stuff is bad for females! You girls above the Veil should learn the Creator’s word! No working! Just giggling and being full of tasty milk!”
“My, yes, you’re right, Pearlie...I’m just a silly girl, I hate working. It’s soooo hard...” Pretending to be a bimbo is always fun. “I just want to feed you and Emily all evening.”
“Come on, Pearlie-chan! Mooommy is really sorry. Her big, tasty udders are so full...” She says while marveling at my, and her future, milk jugs. “She needs you.”
“Hm...Hmmmm...YAY!”
In a brilliant display of bimbo willpower, Pearlie closes the distance in less than a second and finds my right nipple. Yes...Yes! Milk me, Pearlie! Show the old me how great it is to be a lactating mommy slave! Much more soberly, Emily goes for my left...And I am sent to heaven.
It’s night. Me and Emily are in bed, and while she’s drifting into Morpheus’ arms, I am still wide awake. Why? Alyssa promised to call today. She’s in a dangerous mission in Bhutan. I guess a part of me should still spark at the thought of going into danger and adventure again, but no. My place is here. Freedom might as well be an ocean of acid for the new me.
And my patience is rewarded. My tablet rings. I take the call in a hurry.
“Lyssa! How’s it going?”
“Hm, waiting for me to make good of my promise I see...” Playfully says my beloved. “The whole mission stinks, but I’ll be just fine. How did your first steps as CEO go?”
“Pretty well. I kinda like this slave/boss dynamic I’ve got going on. Terri reprogrammed me as an overbearing mother not two weeks ago and I ordered her to increase our independance this afternoon.”
“What? Why would you want to free the Pretties?” Alyssa asks, concerned.
“Oh, don’t worry, we’re not starting shit anytime soon. I just plan on converting Paradise Island into more of a free-range thing. I mean, we’re sheltered enough in the middle of the Pacific. I don’t see any problems with roaming across the resort. Besides, customers will be staying for several days instead of hours now. We need flexibility.”
“My little slave is fast growing up as a Pretty in Chief, heh? I’m proud of you. Can’t wait to be there with you! I’m afraid I’ve got to go, but fair warning—depending on how the rest of the mission goes, when I show up next time, it might be with a BioHack injection gun.”
“He he! Anything for you, my love...”
“Bye! Love you.”
“Love you too!”
Yes...I am Alyssa’s toy, but you won’t ever catch me thinking it’s unfortunate. She is the love of my life, and while she likes to pretend she’s going to turn me into a bimbo or shit like that, I know she values me just like I am. Soft, sexy, and about to create a Prettier world.