For a Prettier World
Part 7 — Pretty Nice Job
That evening with Lloyd Walhart had done more to wear down Kylie’s resistance than Selena’s conditioning. She had sex so intense she never could have imagined before, and her desire to be feminine had significantly grown. Her night was filled with wet dreams, and when she woke up, she went right to her beauty session without a thought of resistance. As she was dolling herself up, she even thought about her body being caressed by Alyssa’s hands. She hoped customers would pick both of them.
Her outfit for the day would be a very skimpy top showing her underboobs and a very short pair of pants.
“Well, obviously I’m here for good, might as well enjoy the ride.”
She still resented her position, though. But being forbidden to resist in any meaningful way and forced to enjoy sex was clearly changing her. It was a natural adaptation process. Just like someone thrown into war was forced to become a killer or die, being thrown into a Pretty pen was effortlessly turning her into a slut. She could feel her mind changing, taking the shape the foundation wanted. But what could she do, really? She even had fallen in love with a fellow whore. Escape was looking both further away and even more painful than before. It would at the very least take outside intervention.
She remembered something. Alyssa willingly choosing to brainwash herself into a wholly different personality during the first week. Maybe she could do that? It would be like jumping straight into the cold water. Scary beforehand, but everything would be fine afterwards.
She had to see Alyssa, though.
“Knock knock !”
“Kylie !”
The curvy blonde threw herself in the tomboy’s arms, pulling her inside and kissing her.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m happy to see you too. Say, I was thinking about yesterday. You know, buying a brainwash...”
“Oh, yeah, of course...You want to do it?”
“I’m considering it, that’s all...I wanted to be with you while browsing the...“shop."".
“Hm hm, I see...”
They sat on Alyssa’s bed, Kylie booting up her tablet.
“Make me Prettier...Conditioning section.”
Two categories appeared. Partial treatment, and complete treatments.
“Partial treatments,” explained Alyssa, “is for adjusting your personality a bit. Like changing your taste in men, becoming more assertive, raising or lowering your IQ, gaining a foreign accent...that sort of thing. Not expensive, but not really popular either. Emily’s anime mannerisms were put in her from the start.”
“Well, it’s the heavy stuff I’m considering. You know...just become someone else and be done with it.”
“I know I enjoyed it a lot, but...I like you as you are, Ky...”
Kylie smiled and brushed her cheek.
“I hope so. I really doubt I’ll do that anyway. Just, you know, know which cards I have in my hand.”
“I understand.”
Kylie then selected the second category. A list of available personalities appeared. They all ranged from two to four thousand bucks.
“Some personality changes,” she read out loud, “work differently than others and can take a long time or be very painful. Read the full descriptions carefully. Yikes. How painful?”
“I don’t know, mine was just like the initial treatments...” Said Alyssa. I woke up and...I was the new me.”
The first item on the list was “Bimbo Slut.”
“Okay, so, already, they can take that shit right the fuck outside.”
“Yeah...”
“Next...Bubbly Airhead. I sense a trend I don’t like.”
She selected that to see the description anyway.
“This treatment works like the initial pacification but with complex thought processes and negative feelings. Unfortunately, due to the higher brain function nature of those suppressed elements, the programming takes several days to set permanently, and requires you to remain conscious and experience the negative reinforcement vividly. Until our R&D team irons out that problem, such is the price for never feeling unhappy or troubled again.”
Kylie and her lover remained silent for a solid minute.
“Wow. This. Is fucking wrong.”
“Too right. Creepy, even...”
“Next is Catgirl. Let’s see...Body modifications : ears, eyes, tail. Overall personality left intact but with distinct feline behavior and heightened playfulness. They don’t mention gruesome side effects for this one.”
“Emily would be so cute like that !”
“Fey Nymph. Body modifications : Ears, skin color. Mystical language and genuine belief of supernatural nature. Meh.
Geisha. Body modifications : Total Ethnic makeover and permanent whole body makeup...blah blah...conditionning over several days for education in all classical Geisha knowledge...blah blah...unlike genuine Geisha, you’ll still be a sex worker...rubbish. French Maid. Fuck that too. Good Girl...”
“Hey, that’s me ! My whole personnality’s in here !”
“Oh word? Does that mean I’ll be you if I choose that?”
“Well, obviously we won’t be the exaxt same person since we’ll still have our memories, but...we’d probably be mostly identical, yeah.”
“Don’t want to steal your act, sweetie” said Kylie, kissing her sister.
Alyssa giggled.
“What’s up next?”
“Little Girl Behavior. Fat chance. Living Doll. Body mods : Mechanical parts. Personality preserved, but not memories. Subject will believe to be a biomechanical being with artificial intelligence created to serve Pretties. Not required to serve customers. Wow, that’s equal parts creepy and a ticket to peace of mind. I mean, like that, you don’t even have a past life to regret. Plus, “not required to serve customers”? Sounds too good to be true.”
“One girl in another part of the Foundation has that. I saw her in the Christmas get-together. She acts humanlike but always refers to herself as an automaton or AI. And she’s truly their companion, she’s not technically a Pretty. She can make love with customers but she can ignore them as well. No idea why though...”
Kylie tried to conjure up an explanation. Surely letting a Pretty turn herself into such a being makes the Foundation lose money in the long run, right? Everything about that thing was at odds with what she knew about the place.
“It’s just difficult to wrap your head around, I think.” Shrugged Alyssa.
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Anyway, next...Japanese Schoolgirl. Body mods : Total ethnic makeover, age modification. Two options : Preserved personality but cultural shift, or personality change to “kawaii” type. Is that Emily?”
“I...think I heard Terri ask her that. She said kawaii’s far more extreme than her.”
“Okay, no chance either then.”
They spent a few more minutes perusing the list. It featured, among others, Sexbot, Stepford Wife -another creepy one- Sultry Seductress...
“That’s Selena.” Observed the blonde.
“What, she...changed herself too?”
“Yeah. She told me than when she started, she was a bookish, shy type. When she was reassigned to the Coppelia, which was new at the time, she wanted a fresh start and live her sex life to the fullest.”
“Wow, I just can’t picture Selena as nerdy.”
“I can’t either. It’s like imagining hot ice”
“Well, looks like that’s it.”
“Yeah...” Alyssa checked the clock. “Work begins in an hour. You feel ready?”
“Actually...yeah.”
“You’ll think about becoming someone else another day, alright my love?”
“Yeah. My love? So tacky...Let me finger some sense into you.”
Alyssa giggled as they both disappeared under the pink sheets.
And her second day of work began.
Right off the bat, she was grabbed by one of the first customers, a professional american football player. She served him lunch, and he made her sit on his lap. He just kept fondling her, talking about how awesome her was in the field. At least he wasn’t doggy-styling her like a cheap slut.
After five minutes of listening to the jock’s self-satisfaction, though, she became more frustrated by the second, until finally...
“Yeah, okay, I get it dude. Now strip, my pussy isn’t going to wait all day for your dick to rise at the thought of hairy men grunting over balls !”
The wannabe alpha male looked at her like a dead fish. She swore, made him lie down the large couch and removed his pants. He was limp.
“Jesus Christ you fucking faggot ! You don’t go the restaurant without pants and you dont go to the Pretties without wood !”
She removed her already flimsy top and began to titfuck him. Finally, his soldier rose at attention and she could get down to business. She impaled herself on him, and fucked him right in the middle of the Coppelia bar. Just like that. The guy didn’t take her, so she took him. Like a good dominant Pretty should. And it felt actually far better than the previous day. When she gazed at the footballer’s ridiculours O-face, she felt...power. Power by being a complete slut. She truly was changing. Power, her favorite feeling, actually coming from sex. What would the former Her think?
But, hey, she was taken right at the opening, hard to pretend she wasn’t interested after greeting the first customers at the gate, right?
At least, her job wasn’t full time. If none of the current customers fancied her, she could just chillax.
And indeed, there was an hour or so where the maximum of four customers were busy with everyone but her and Christina. They decided to go swim a bit in the pool. With her rack, water was gentler to Kylie’s back than the treadmill.
Christina was taller than her, but she had far more strength and stamina and left her in the proverbial dust in their friendly 8 lengths race. Kylie got out of the water first then helped her mature sister.
“By the way, I’m glad to see you finally breaking out of your shell...”
After Alyssa the previous day, it was Kylie’s turn to blush, embarassed.
“You should have begun to be dominant earlier, but you were too busy wallowing in self pity.”
“I’m not exactly proud of fucking this guy, okay?”
“Perhaps not yet but it did feel better than just letting things happen, didn’t it? I know you’re a top, all of us become hopelessely bottom when we’re triggered by praise. You’re the only one who’s dominant in this state. It has to account for something.”
“Yeah, you’re right Christina. I certainly feel better about this whole situation if I can do that at least from time to time, but, you know...There’s just no shaking the feeling that this is dishonoring.”
Christina chuckled.
“Our culture certainly is weird about that, isnt’it? Making a woman’s sexuality taboo, wrong, and shameful. And God help us if we actually like it. Yet it’s a double bind. Be prudish and you’re adhering to the male diktat, or be liberated and you’re a filthy slut that only lives for men’s pleasure.”
“Something like that, yeah. No matter what you do, you lose.”
“At least, a Pretty doesn’t have to worry about that. This isn’t our society anymore.”
“Yeah, but I’m still pissed.”
“The surrender isn’t as exhilarating if you don’t resist.”
“See?” Spat Kylie. “Surrender. This deal is still us getting enslaved.”
“Paradise cannot exist if one has the freedom to be in pain.”
“You call that Paradise?”
“A fabricated one, certainly, but my worst nightmare is to be thrown back in the cesspool of humanity.”
“Streamlining talking?”
“Indeed.”
“I’d love to the Christina from before it. You know, the one bought by some mafia kingpin.”
Her Senior Pretty laughed.
“What?”
“There was no Christina before the Streamlining.”
“What...do you mean?” Asked Kylie, afraid to understand.
“The Human I was made from was called Bethany. But she’s not me. I am the final product. And I bear the name my Owner chose for me.”
“Oh shit. I get it, finally. They make you another being. And your humanity just becomes...”
“Background noise.”
“Yeah. Alyssa said that too. What...what was her name?”
“Chloe.”
“I can’t believe it...They want to even strip me of my name...”
“You should fear it, but only because it is the death of all your human pains.”
“You know you’re creepy, right.”
She makes a fluty laugh.
“I know. In truth, you’re still a human. You’re becoming like us, but we do not really function on the same plane of feeling yet. I cannot expect to persuade you. Just...you have no choice but to love, but enjoy it while you still want to have that choice.”
Kylie was reflecting a bit on Christina’s words when, at around 8 o’clock, another VIP, a famous Australian action star strongly leaning towards gritty roles, came into the park.
As usual, Kylie engaged in evasive maneuvers and retreated into the sports room, which was the only place a customer sitting in the bar couldn’t see. Save for the Pretties’ rooms of course, but those were for sexing only during working hours.
Alas, for all the people her badass tattoos repealed, which were quite a few all things considered, Kylie having had much less customers than her sisters, there were some men who just couldn’t get enough of them.
This particular action star was smack dab in the second category.
He engaged the conversation thusly :
“Look, I don’t like this situation any more than you obviously do. But fact is, I don’t think I really had a reason to came here until now.”
“Whatever you say, Jack. Yeah, of course I know your name. Mine’s Kylie, hi. I’m really conflicted about my situation so...I’d appreciate if you’d go fuck Selena or something.”
The actor scratched his falsely unkempt beard, looking to the side, showing genuine embarassment.
“Hey, I’m being honest here. A girl like you? It’s the goddamn White Whale these days. And it kind of really sucks to finally find one only to realize she’s been turned into a Pretty.”
“You sound awfully familiar with the concept.”
“Well, yeah. I’m swimming in pussy most of the time and I ain’t going to say that’s not awesome. But by the time your humpteenth long haired, dolled-up floozy comes around...”
“Yeah, I can get it.”
The actor elects to lie down in a beach chair, one empty chair away from her.
“Bottom line, I like you better than the vanilla hogwash the PWF serves us, but considering your type, it’s...just wrong to know you’re a girl that comes with an instruction manual.”
“I know, right? You let an off-handed compliment about my look and I’ll be forced to take you right where you are.”
“Look, how about we forget about that awful shit and just act like you’re a normal girl?”
“That won’t change the outcome, but I can at least appreciate the sentiment.”
Less than an hour later, Kylie was back in her role as a prostitute. Well...in all honesty it was much before that. They had talked about things, mostly pertaining to action and entertainment, but she felt her mind wander on one specific topic. She tried to ignore her carnal urges, but the Pandora’s box had been open. Her sexuality had been awoken in spectacular fashion, and it wanted none of that freedom bullshit. For the better part of the conversation, she was just waiting for the customer to claim her. She couldn’t even resent him, he was hunky, well spoken -at least by her standards- and had the good taste to woo her as opposed to just taking her. She tried to give him the sarcastic treatment, but the outcome was never in doubt.
Once again, in what was now her favorite position, she was riding him, breasts proudly juggling from her pleasure spasms, sighing her ecstasy at the ceiling, standing like a silhouette of eroticized feminity they could show in action blockbusters without actually showing any flesh. Kylie absolutely could not deny how awesome it felt. She was neither dom nor sub this time, just a casual sexual partner to a male sex symbol, but sex alone was worth it.
When they were spent, Kylie laid down on the actor’s body, one soft breast on his pecs. The actor struck up a conversation.
“It’s hard to come around to how butch your body is. I mean, you’re so...”
“What, soft?”
“Yeah.”
“Well I can’t get around to how soft I am, so we’re even.”
And soft she was. Sex aside, Kylie was growing to love cuddling. Feeling warmth on her smooth, Pretty skin. Feeling safety and comfort in a customer’s arms. Sex, at least, was intense and enforced by her mind shackles. But nobody was forcing her to lay in bed with a man, passive.
It didn’t just deny her her fighting nature, it was the very antithesis of it. What was she becoming?
The more clients Kylie had, the more she felt fuzzy. The customers she dominated gave her her power fix, sure. But even in sexual fury, her movements were getting more gentle. She didn’t touch customers as much as she caressed them.
Friday, her third day of work, saw her tending to three high-earning traders, along with Alyssa and Terri. The three of them decided to do each customer in turn, Alyssa playing the sub, Terri the neutral, and Kylie the dom.
But this particular domination felt suspiciously like a tongue in cheek play between husband and wife after years of marriage. She was on top, and she did get to say things like “Don’t even think about jizzing before I’m done or your balls are dust”, but she said that softly in his ear while grinding her chest against his.
And when she was done with her first guy, the second just grabbed her from behind, and with her deadened reflexes, she couldn’t oppose any resistance whatsoever. But whereas she could, and by all means should just have let herself be manhandled, she cocked her head back right away to try to kiss him.
It had begun with her wanting sex, but now, she wanted warmth. Gentleness. Domination was less a goal in itself and more of a preferred way to get her sweet loving.
When the day ended, she excused herself from the company of her sisters.
“Goddamit goddamit goddamit.”
She walked in circles, stressfully ruffling her hair. She was on her way. Like Alyssa said. She was to be an angel of Love and she could feel the wings growing on her back. Her life of fighting felt so distant, so...futile. It was like she had only eaten plain crackers most of her life just because she was too cool for meat and vegetables. Love was the goal of life. Fighting had never been anything but a way to love. And yet, from a young age, she was taught that sex was degrading for a girl. Not necessarily by her parents, but by public morals.
She was fucked in the head, that much was certain. She lacked the guilt response a human experiences when he’s done a bad thing. But she’d taken that as an excuse to engage on the path of hatred and violence.
With a life of love, her malfunction wouldn’t even be an issue.
She knew it was what the Fondation wanted. That they had planted that seed, and that she would never have reached that conclusion without their dollification.
But it didn’t make it any less utterly compelling. It didn’t make her feelings any less true.
Kylie looked at her pretty reflection in her mirror. So beautiful, so soft...She stated her new truth.
“I’m an angel of Love.”