Absence of all Morality
I was making the finishing touches, preparations, and last-minute adjustments to my first prototype. After 4 years of constant working, in addition to the neglect of my social life, and the expenditure of two years’ salary, it was finally ready to launch.
The ISA (Involuntary Slave Apparatus) was long overdue. If successful, it will allow me to completely render my victim into nothing more than a personal toy. Once inside, the target host would be nothing more than a mere puppet, forced to sit back and watch as they realized they no longer have a will of their own.
Allow me to explain, the ISA is just a silver rectangular prism, about 1 inch wide, 6 inches long, and about half an inch thick. Once placed into direct contact with a victim’s bare skin, it penetrates the skin, and unravels millions of flexible fibers that head straight for the spinal cord. Once it has made contact, it will begin to wrap around the length and base of the spine, grafting it there, and making removal impossible.
Once the spine grafting is secured, the second-most important contact will begin to be established; in the brain. The fibers will then travel up the spine and make contact with the neurons of the brain, and rerouting the brain neurons to travel through it, before reaching the rest of the body.
This will make it so that any commands sent from the host’s brain can easily be blocked, making the host unable to control their own body. Even while they mentally scream for help inside, they can do nothing I don’t approve of.
They can still see, hear and taste, but they are nothing more than a passenger in their own body.
All of this happens within a minute, but 60 seconds is more than enough time to call for help or cause problems, luckily for me I have a plan.
If the ISA works, I can mass produce it, and instantly become rich. I’ve programmed the ISA to not respond to my own specific genetic makeup, so I’m not at risk. I can make anyone else immune to this technology as well, for the right price.
I already know my perfect specimen, I’ve been watching her movements and routine for the final two of the four years I was building the ISA. She is the owner of her own hair salon. She is a tall, 32 year old, light caramel-skinned woman with curly hair, named Kimberly. If my prototype is successful, I can have unlimited access to her and her building, and even scout her customers for more slaves.
I waited until it was almost time for her to close up, and it was time to execute my plan. She is a very successful salon owner, and has a cute white girl employee underneath her, and lots of customers.
Earlier today, while it was very busy, I walked inside. I slid my phone underneath one of the lesser used tables and left.
I looked inside, she was sweeping alone after the salon recently closed, like she always did. She normally goes out through the back door, heads to her van, and drives home after she’s done sweeping. Not tonight, she wouldn’t.
I checked the parking lot before heading in. The parking lot had only her van in it. Show time.
I knocked on her door.
“Sorry, we’re closed.” Kimberly yelled through the glass doors.
I pointed to my phone that was on the ground, “I left my phone, can I just go get it?”
KImberly leaned her broom up against the wall, and smiled. She picked up my phone and approached the glass doors. As she turned the key, I reached into my pocket and grabbed the ISA.
My heart started rocketing in my chest.
Kimberly opened the door and handed me my cell phone.
I reached out my hand and completely ignored my cell phone, I took the ISA that was hidden in my palm and forced it to make contact with the back of Kimberly’s outstretched hand. I let my cellphone fall onto the sidewalk outside the salon (I have an Otterbox, it’ll be fine).
Kimberly’s face very rapidly changed from startled, to highly confused, to uncomfortable, to angry.
“Hey, what are you—” Kimberly started.
I pushed both Kimberly and I back inside the salon, and then tackled her. My hand was still gripping hers, firmly holding the ISA in place, not daring to let it lose contact with Kimberly for even a second.
I covered Kimberly’s screaming mouth with my free hand. I needed about 60 seconds before the ISA would have complete control of Kimberly, and about half that time for it to wrap around her spinal cord and be held in place.
I would then be able to use both arms, and easily subdue Kimberly, but until then I needed to stall for the first crucial 30 seconds.
“I’m not gonna hurt you,” I said in her ear, “I’m just here for your money. I only want your money. I only want your money. I only want your money.”
I repeated that over and over until she calmed down and stopped fighting me. I felt much more secure now, but how long was that? 10 seconds? 15? 5? It’s hard to keep track of time when your adrenaline is pumping so much.
“Where is your money?” I asked.
“In my purse. People just pay me cash. Just take it and leave.” Kimberly whimpered.
I paused, and before I could think of what to say or do next, she screamed, “NOW! My cellphone is in there. I can’t call for help. Just leave!”
God. This was going to be the longest 60 seconds of my life.
“NOW!” Kimberly yelled again, a little louder than I would’ve liked.
“Where is it?” I asked, pretending not to see it, in order to stall for more time.
“How on earth can you not see it?” Kim asked, sounding more annoyed than scared, “It’s the huge ass purse, sitting on the chair right in front of you.”
“Why are you bullshitting me lady?” I asked, suppressing a chuckle.
It truly was a huge ass purse. So even in the dark, because of the various street lights from outside, it was super easy to see.
“I really don’t see it. Who the hell sweeps in the dark anyways?”
I almost screamed out in joy as I felt the ISA dissolve into Kim’s skin. A huge step forward, but I wasn’t home free just yet.
Kimberly sighed loudly.
“Just let me get it for you, so you can get the hell out of my store.”
“Do you really think I’m gonna fall for that? What if you have a gun in there? Why don’t you just point to the purse.”
Kimberly shuffled beneath me. “Well if you would get off of me, I could do that.”
I still had Kimberly pinned to the ground, she couldn’t move either of her arms.
We both just laid on the ground, waiting. I kept her in place awkwardly until I was absolutely sure we hit the 60 seconds.
Now it was time to see what the ISA could do. I unpinned only Kimberly’s left arm, just to be safe.
“Well, if you want to show me, go ahead.” I said to Kim.
I had to be very careful with my words. You see, I was using this little pointing exercise as a test of the ISA’s functions to see if Kimberly would be able to freely move her arm or not. If it worked as I intended it to, no matter how much she tried, she shouldn’t be able to move her arms under her own free will at all.
However, if I had said, ‘Kimberly, point to the purse’, then the ISA would treat that as an order, and she’d be forced to point whether she wanted to or not. Then I wouldn’t know if she pointed because the ISA was working, or if she freely pointed just because she wanted me out of her hair salon. So by carefully planning out my words, I could get an accurate test for whether or not the ISA worked.
Her left arm didn’t budge. My heart started racing even faster (if that was even possible) and I got a hard on so quickly and forcefully that it actually hurt a little. I had to test again just to be sure.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Do you want me out of your store, or not?”
I was careful to avoid directly asking or telling her to do anything. Just alluding to the previous conversation without referencing it.
“I can’t move!” Kimberly yelled, voice rising with panic.
“Do not raise your voice.” I ordered calmly.
Now that definitely was an order, I couldn’t have attention being drawn here. Not when the fun was just about to start.
“Stand up, now.” I ordered.
Kimberly shakily, yet quickly, got onto her feet. She then glanced toward the front door. I was not in her path, she could easily make a run for it. Her eyes darted toward the door, to her stationary legs, and back to me in rapid succession.
“Wh-why can’t I…” her voice trailed off as she saw the huge hungry grin that appeared on my face.
“Help.” Kimerly said in a normal talking voice, that no one but her and I could’ve possibly heard.
“Someone help me. Why can’t I yell? Why can’t I move? What have you done to me?”
Even though her voice could no longer rise in panic, her level of rising fear was still obvious, and delicious.
“It’s the device I have just inserted in you,” I said smugly, “The Involuntary Slave Apparatus, or ISA, is currently wrapped around your spinal cord, and inserted between your brainstem and brain neurons. You are now my slave. Sorry to break the bad news, but I think you know exactly what happens every time a man has limitless control over an attractive woman.”
I gave her a moment to let the fear wash over her before saying, “Get naked.”
I got undressed as well, and within seconds we were both stripped. I pushed her onto her salon’s waiting couch.
“Get passionate and just follow my lead.” I ordered.
I moved in and began passionately making out with her. To my pleasant surprise, the orders to her brain were enthusiastically consumed. She was inserting her tongue into my mouth and sucking on mine without being implicitly ordered to do so. I moved down on her.
I moved down and began eating out her pussy, making sure she was nice and wet. I then moved back up and continued making out with her and letting her taste her own pussy juices off my mouth and tongue.
I inserted my cock into her tight wet pussy and began steadily pistoning her, first very slowly, and then steadily building a rhythm. While giving her nice tight pussy the works I made sure to move over to her lower neck and made sure to give her a nice, big, noticeable hickey that all her friends, customers, and family would see. Then I gave her another one on her upper neck as well for good measure. I certainly would not be allowing her to dress in anything that would cover either of them up.
I wasn’t going to last too long. I hadn’t had a woman in so long. Plus, I’d been fantasizing about Kimberly for a while now, and she was somehow even better than I imagined.
“You’re so tight… I’ve been dreaming about your tightness for years.” I moaned super creepily in her ear.
I then made sure to grunt loudly, right into her ear, before I came. Hopefully give her a few nightmares of the sound of my grunt, or to have painful flashbacks of, during the day.
To be honest, after having her will stripped, turned into a sex bot, raped, and be forced to suck my tounge, she took it all surprisingly well. But once I grunted deep in her ear and shot my load into her pussy, tears started streaming her face.
“Get dressed, and hand me your salon key. We’ve got a lot of work to do before you open up tomorrow.”
“Moving my shit in here is so much work! Glad I have you to do it for me! Huh, Kimberly?” I asked in the most douchey way possible, squeezing her ass as she walked by.
“Fuck off and die.” Kim spat.
Kimberly was busy turning her salon into what would be my secondary laboratory.
I enslaved and raped her at around 11:30pm. It was now about 9am. Kimberly and I had spent the whole night driving to and from my apartment and her salon. It took hours to move everything that needed to be moved.
I could’ve easily done most, if not all of this, by myself with time to spare. In fact I even preferred to, since I like to handle my own equipment. But most of the time I made Kimberly work, just to break her spirits even further. Right now I had her moving my 80 pound desk into her office. The small Kimberly was struggling with the desk that I could’ve just easily moved myself.
This job would’ve been done hours ago if I just bothered to help. Her situation was certainly not helped by the fact that I made her strip down to nothing but her bra, panties, and flip flops.
I sat on one of the salon chairs, with my feet up on another chair, drinking some shitty alcohol and coke, and striking the most asshole-sy face I could. I wanted her to hate me. I wanted her to internally scream every day as I took over her life and made her my slave. She was going to be my lifelong slave and I was going to make sure she knew it, and hated every second of it.
If Kimberly sat a customer in the chair, and I had decided I wanted the customer to be my next victim, I would simply order her to attach the ISA to the back of their neck, and then lower the hair dryer. The hair dryers run for way longer than the required 60 seconds, so by the time they have their new hair-do, they’ll be all good and enslaved.
Her store didn’t open until noon. We had plenty of time before the salon opened. I then drove back to her place so I could fuck her in her own bed and we could nap before our big day. When we got to her house Kimberly stared at me in shock.
“You know where I live?” Kimberly asked.
“I’ve been stalking you and masturbating to photos I’ve taken of you for the past 2 years.” I said creepily
“I know you live alone, and I was SUPER tempted to come in and rape you the few times you left your door unlocked. Your beauty drove me crazy Kim. I have no earthly idea how you’re single. But after all these years of stalking you, I never did figure it out. How in the hell did you afford this house?”
Kimberly, who was forced to answer honestly, replied, ”Not that it’s any business of yours, but my parents have passed away in a car accident and left this house.”
I looked at her and smiled. I could finally have a family.
“Nice. I think I’ll put a ring on it, and a baby in you.”
Kimberly’s eyes flashed with fear.
“Please don’t do this. I want to live my life. I don’t deserve this. Why are you doing this?”
Kimberly began crying.
“Stop crying.” I ordered.
“I hit the jackpot with you. Your parent’s left you a fortune, you own the perfect place for me to capture women, and you have your own house that I will live in. It’s quite the step up from my shitty apartment!” I laughed.
“Plus, you’re young and pretty. The body I’ve been fascinating about for years is now mine to command! This is your life. You will never be free. I will have other slaves, but I will eventually grow tired of every slave I take. But not you. You will be with me for life, Kim. You will be my wife, and bear my children. You’re my ‘main squeeze’, so to speak.”
I fucked Kimberly one more time, and after I nutted in her she simply got off the bed without a word. I thought she was going to the bathroom to clean up, because of course I raw-dogged her, but she went to the basement. Out of curiosity I followed her down there. I saw her tying a rope and draping it from the ceiling.
She was trying to hang herself!
“Stop! Don’t move!” I screamed.
Kimberly obeyed instantly, her eyes showed how surprised she was. She had no idea I followed her down here.
“You will never attempt to harm yourself, me, or anyone, ever again. And you will never speak, write, text, or in any way attempt to convey to anyone else about what I have done to you. Understand?”
“Yes.” Kimberly responded through gritted teeth.
“Good. You are also NEVER allowed to yell. But you can talk with your own free will to me, and me alone. In front of everyone else, you will only say things that you believe I would approve of you saying.”
“You’re a monster.” Kimberly whispered.
I chuckled, “Oh believe me, I know.”