PGAD
6.
Sara awoke, shivering, freezing. It was no wonder, since her nightgown was damp and cold, and she was slumped over on the floor of her bedroom without any cover. Apparently, she’d spent the entire night in like this; the morning light was flooding in through the windows, birds chirping outside.
She rose unsteadily to her feet, groaning, as her muscles protested at being used, stiff and cramped from being locked in that awkward position for so long. Her first thought, as always, was about work, getting ready, summoning the tasks for the day, before the memories of the previous day came flooding back. Then, she grabbed her phone out of her purse, which luckily still had a little battery power left despite not being charged overnight, and composed an email, doing something she hadn’t done in well over a decade: she took a sick day.
Holding a hand to her aching lower back, she heavily made her way to the closet, pulling off the nightgown and swapping it for some dry and comfortable sweatpants and top, then headed down to the kitchen, loading a pod of the strongest coffee she had into her single-serve coffee machine. Sara was not the cooking type, nor did she really have much time for it, and so practically always picked up breakfast from a takeout place with a morning coffee on the way into the office, but she had some breakfast burritos in the freezer for the weekends when she was feeling too lazy to go out and get something, and she put two of those in the microwave now.
The caffeine and food did wonders for her. The hot coffee had warmed her up and by now her muscles had loosened up as well and she was able to move about less woodenly. Sara was feeling more or less back to normal, except now that her basic needs had been met, she realized that she was feeling… turned on.
It wasn’t to the extreme extent of her horrendous mistake from the night before, nor was it the terrible urgency of the previous day, but it was there to a lesser degree and in a similar way it was equally distracting in its omnipresence.
She needed to figure out how to fix this. Like, immediately. But, on the plus side she had absolutely nothing else to do today except focus on a resolution. Sara put the dishes in the sink and headed back up to the bedroom.
The tablet was still lying there on the floor. Sara was mortified to see that there was a large dark spot on the carpet, which she knew had come from herself. Steadfastly ignoring that, she picked up the tablet, and climbed onto the bed, the mattress springs creaking as she shifted into a sitting position, several soft, down-filled pillows propped up behind her.
The tablet screen was heavily smudged with a whitish translucent film, which Sara pretended was dried sweat, despite knowing that it was only partially so. Nonetheless, she wiped it away with the sleeve of her sweatshirt, which activated the screen.
It was all just she’d left it previously. The ‘Libido’ slider bar was turned down as low as was permitted, and everything else was the same. Why the hell was that setting locked? If she could just make it go lower, everything could go back to normal. She could then focus on how to get this nanotech micro-robot shit out of her body. Or at the very least, she’d take this tablet into the garage and smash it with a hammer.
That wouldn’t solve anything though, she realized suddenly. The lab tech had looked up and entered some kind of password into this tablet to make it control the nanites in her body. Presumably, there was a different password for each person that had been injected with them, and all they had to do was put hers into a new tablet, even if she destroyed this one.
Fucking Gen-U-Tech, Sara thought bitterly. There wasn’t any line they wouldn’t cross, not when it came to ethics or morality, even when it came to their own employees. But this was even worse. The lab tech had said the nanites were supposed to have been injected but not activated. And yet, hers had been. And not just activated, but also used. And whoever had tampered with the settings had also somehow made it so that it couldn’t be fully undone. Who would do that to her?
Sara had some guesses, but this was all too far down the road to start deeply contemplating. Before she could even start to think about getting rid of the nanites and addressing whoever had weaponized them against her, first she had to figure out how to use them to get back to her old self.
She scrolled through the list, thinking back to the previous night, where she’d had a glimmer of an idea and insight when reading through the various labels, like ‘Determination’ and ‘Stamina’. Thinking about it, Sara envisioned the idea of running a marathon. She’d need a hell of a lot more stamina, and determination too if she were to do it. But what if she had lots of stamina? Then perhaps, she wouldn’t need as much determination to take it on. Or what if she didn’t have that much stamina, and tons of determination? She could see herself, limping, staggering, crawling her way to the finish line.
Perhaps there was some similar concept here, even if she couldn’t directly affect her libido, there was something else here she could use to offset or compensate...
It was only then that Sara noticed a series of tabs at the top, and she felt her heart rate accelerate. While the page held tons of labels, this was but only one tab, labeled ‘Metabolic/PsychoAnalytic’. There were others. ‘Personality’.‘ Psychological’. And… ‘Physiological’.
She clicked on each of them one by one. It was too much to absorb all at once, all of the varied options and aspects. Despite that, she immediately recognized that there were a lot of duplicate values. She found ‘Stamina’ repeated in the Physiological section and ‘Determination’ in the ‘Personality’ section. Clearly, this wasn’t a mature product and they hadn’t figured out how to organize things. Or else the interface had been built in a way to provide users with multiple places to find things in their intuitive places, which might not fit cleanly into one category or another.
It was all so complicated. And then, Sara made an even more staggering discovery. In the top left corner of the screen was a small icon, consisting only of three horizontal lines. Clicking on it, it opened a pulldown menu labeled ‘Mode’, and the options were ‘Advanced’ and ‘Normal’, the latter being currently selected.
Holy shit, Sara thought. This was only normal mode..?!
She tapped on ‘Advanced’ out of curiosity, and was immediately overwhelmed. Now she was looking at settings for DNA sequences, RNA programming, genetic markers… This was far, far beyond her, and she immediately clicked back to ‘Normal’.
Sara spent the entirety of the morning tapping and scrolling, getting acquainted with all of the various settings, trying to figure out if there was something she could try to adjust to offset her increased libido. But as the day progressed, Sara found herself repeatedly going back to the ‘Physiological’ tab. There was nothing there that was relevant, she had seen that more or less immediately. And yet her eyes lingered for longer and longer on some of the labels.
Height. BMI. Weight.
She couldn’t help but think about the possibilities. With just a few taps, she could lose those extra pounds. Hell, more than that, she could be lighter than she’d ever been. She could somehow, miraculously be two inches taller, like she’d always wanted to be. It sounded completely impossible, but Sara had seen firsthand what these nanites could do.
And if those numbers weren’t enough, the controls were even more granular. There was Waistline. Shoulder Width. Sara rolled her eyes a bit upon seeing that of course both bust and cup size could be specified. Hell, everything was here. Hair pigmentation, eye pigmentation. She could set ring size on each of her fingers, foot size for her feet.
What if… what if she took off ten pounds? Just ten pounds? She’d fit better in her pants and no one would notice…
No, no… Sara thought immediately. She couldn’t do that. That wasn’t what this was for. She was already in enough of a mess from this whole thing.
That was true, except… Yes, it had screwed things up, but maybe something good could come from this, too. She might as well get something out of this, some kind of compensation for all of this stress.
Sara slid the bar down next to ‘Weight’, watching the numbers fall. When it had decremented exactly ten pounds, she stopped, staring at it.
Ten pounds. Ten pounds, just like that. How many times had she said to herself, ‘If I could just lose ten pounds?’ She’d just start there, just ten, and then from there she’d be extra motivated to lose more. She’d heard that the first ten were the easiest. The first twenty, even. Getting started was supposed to be both the hardest and the easiest part. She knew that. She’d tried… She’d worked at it before for a few days, and seen the weight go down a pound or two—then she’d felt like she’d earned a good reward and treated herself to a burger instead of a salad. And then somehow she’d get distracted with one thing or another, quarterly earnings coming up, corporate tax reports due…
Ten pounds gone, if she just tapped the button, right now. Was there really a reason not to do it? Why shouldn’t she?
No, I can’t.
I can’t.
Can I..?
Sara’s finger hovered indecisively above the button. What would it even feel like? This was different from what had been done previously, this was a physical change to her body…
Am I doing this? she asked herself. Am I really thinking about doing this..?
Sara looked around furtively, immediately feeling silly for doing so in what she already knew to be her empty home. Biting her lower lip in nervousness, wincing slightly, she tapped on ‘Apply’.
As before, she felt the change immediately. It was a small tingling all over, neither pleasant nor unpleasant, that persisted for nearly half a minute before it stopped. Sara stood there unmoving for a few moments, waiting to see if anything else was forthcoming, and when she felt sure that there was not, she went directly to the bathroom mirror.
Disappointment.
That was her immediate reaction upon seeing her reflection, which, so far as she could tell, was completely unchanged. She’d felt the tingling, but had it otherwise even worked..? She approached the dreaded scale, her longtime nemesis, and stepped onto it. Upon reading the result, she felt a mixture now of elation and even deeper disappointment.
It had worked. She was definitely ten pounds lighter! But the improvement was so minor that it was virtually undetectable. How sad and pathetic was that? Sara imagined how discouraged she’d be if she’d actually put in the work to lose the weight.
You have a long way to go, kid, she thought to herself, eyeing her reflection ruefully, reaching down and grabbing handfuls of her belly fat through her sweatshirt, giving it a shake.
Did she though…? She cast an eye through the doorway back to the bedroom. While she couldn’t see more than the foot of the bed from her vantage point, she knew that still lying upon it was that tablet… that powerful, powerful tablet that could improve things with a mere swipe of the finger. And not just her weight, but all sorts of other things! She’d been going prematurely gray since her thirties, no doubt due to the stress of work life… No more going to the salon every two or three weeks. Hell, maybe she wanted to try out a lighter shade for the summer time. Maybe she wanted a new eye color. No colored contacts needed, not for her! And if she didn’t like it, she could always change back. The possibilities were tantalizing…
No, no, no..! Sara shook her head, trying to dismiss the whole line of thinking. What happened to trying to solve her little problem? She hadn’t even thought of it in the last few hours (though it was always there in the back of her mind, a constant itch waiting to be scratched).
With a sigh and one more backward glance at the mirror, she left the bathroom, taking up the tablet with renewed resolve. Why had she even gotten derailed like this? It was totally unlike her to be so unfocused.
For the next forty minutes or so, Sara slowly scrolled through all the various labels in the Personality and Metabolic/PsychoAnalytic tabs. There were all sorts of interesting, mundane and just plain peculiar traits that could be adjusted. Some of them were strangely subjective and to her mind, unquantifiable. How could one put a percentage scale on ‘Wittiness’, or ‘Bravery’ or ‘Resourcefulness’? And again she wondered about all encompassing traits like ‘Intelligence’. Surely that had to affect everything. Perhaps if she were to crank that up, it would help her find a solution, but she was extremely leery of the idea of tampering with her mind in such a way...
Still, with her unaltered level of intelligence, she wasn’t able to see any settings that could tangentially affect her libido. She rested her doughy chin on her hand, tapping her cheek with her index finger as she thought about it. What about BMI? She knew that that was derived through some calculation of height and weight. She flipped back to the Physiological tab. She should adjust one of the parameters and see how it affected the others. Instantly, she gravitated toward the Weight setting again.
It’s just to verify the interconnectivity, she told herself.
She moved the slide bar down until her weight had dropped another twenty-five pounds, then checked the Height setting, which remained unchanged. Then she scrolled to BMI and saw that it had indeed gone down. It was true, then. There was some kind of linked logic in the background.
This was a very encouraging discovery and gave a sense of renewed hope and purpose; she should just go through every setting possible and change them, one by one, until, hopefully, she came upon one that had some kind of logical connection to Libido.
Sara gave a stretch and sigh, getting ready to execute her plan. This was going to take forever—there were just so many settings to go through. She shifted slightly in the bed, then focused back on the tablet, ready to start digging in. Only, as she was about to begin, her eyes settled back on BMI, now a few ticks lower… and Sara felt that tempting allure again.
She’d set her weight lower to make that happen. Twenty-five pounds lower. If she were to hit ‘Apply’ now… And this time she was very sure she’d see the difference in the mirror—twenty-five pounds was a lot of weight. And that was on top of the ten she’d already taken off. How long ago had it been that she was thirty-five pounds lighter..?
Again..? Sara questioned herself. You shouldn’t even have done it in the first place…
Just for a few minutes, she thought. She just wanted to see what she’d look like. Then she’d change it right back.
That sounded ok, but was it really that simple? Were there any repercussions to playing around, changing herself and changing back like a yo-yo? People did that all the time, though. Weren’t actors constantly gaining and dropping double digit poundage for roles? Sara knew that wasn’t a very valid comparison. However quickly celebrities and their personal trainers and private chefs were able to make that happen, she knew it wasn’t within the span of a few minutes. But still, that flimsy reasoning was good enough, if only because deep down she wanted to be convinced. She just wanted to see how she looked...
Without any further deliberation, she pressed ‘Apply’ again.
Once more, she felt that tingle, all over her body as the nanites did their work on a microscopic level, somehow transforming her, making her lighter, again taking a number of seconds to complete the task. Sara exhaled as the tingling stopped; she hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath.
With some excitement, she headed back to the bathroom, suppressing the urge to run over, managing to hold her pace down to a fast walk, and stopping in front of the mirror.
A small smile broke out on Sara’s face. Unlike before, this time it had so obviously and clearly worked. Her waistline was smaller. Her face was noticeably less round. Her double chin was less prominent.
She didn’t look as good as she wanted to, but she looked better, better than she’d looked in a long time. She spent several moments admiring herself, turning to the side, then with her back to the mirror, looking over her shoulder to see how her rear looked. In the baggy sweats, she wasn’t able to get a detailed view of her skinnier self, but overall, everything was just smaller. It made her feel so… happy. Happy in a way that she hadn’t felt in a long time.
And then, unexpectedly, she realized that she was more than happy. That ever-present arousal that she’d been able to ignore so far today came to the forefront with that startling suddenness. She was happy, and she was… horny. Sara stood there indecisively before somewhat hesitantly, she reached down, rubbing herself lightly through her sweatpants.
It felt good. Really good. But she was also extremely self-conscious. Touching herself in front of the mirror… that was a little too brazen for her. She’d never been confident enough or content enough with her body to ever want to watch herself doing… this... to herself. And she looked better now, yes, but she was still a long way from where she wanted to be.
Sara dropped her eyes from her own reflection, still not feeling bold enough to openly watch herself, but neither did she move out of the bathroom, rubbing herself a little more harder now. Even without looking, there was still something exciting about it. Something… kind of naughty. The arousal within was surging up again, with that level of intensity that Sara knew was not entirely her own, the result of that setting that refused to be lowered...
She should be getting back to that, continuing to try to find a solution. Not hanging out in the bathroom, giving in to her urges yet again. But rather than stop, her hand found its way to the waistline of her sweats, discovering that it was actually slightly loose. Somehow that turned Sara on even more, her hand immediately going inside down the front of them. She was sopping, copiously lubricated once again, and her fingers slid inside easily.
“Hmmmmhhmmmmm…” The sound, between a groan and a growl, emanated quietly from the back of her throat.
Should stop this… Gotta fix this…
Her hand was heedless, working in and out, as her hips began to twitch slightly. She couldn’t focus like this. There wasn’t any point trying to fight it. She’d be able to concentrate better once she’d had a few good hard cums…
“Yea,” she whispered quietly, in growing excitement, her breath shuddering as she exhaled. She leaned against the sink counter, panting heavily, fingering herself wildly. The fabric in the front of her pants bulged, pulsing rhythmically as her hand inside plunged in and out. Already she could feel her climax approaching, coming so easily, without any coaxing or effort.
That in itself was a huge change that she’d not really had the presence of mind to give much thought to until now. Even back when she was actually sexually active, she rarely orgasmed from intercourse. Now, Sara felt sure she wouldn’t have a problem with that... In fact, wouldn’t it be nice, so nice, if just right now, there was a big, strong man behind her, and instead of her own fingers, it was a nice thick, hard cock filling her up? If only she’d gotten some yesterday from that lab tech, instead of settling for sucking him off on her knees, swallowing that big hot load of jizz like a slut…
“Mmmmmmmppphhhh! Shiiiiiit! UHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhh..!” Sara moaned gracelessly as the orgasm washed over her, and now she did look up at her own reflection, her dark hair tousled, sticking to her red, sweating face, nose scrunched up as her mouth hung open. She might not have been as skinny as she liked, she might not have been as pretty as she liked, but still watching herself get off made her cum hard. When her reflection showed the blossoming dark, wet spot at the crotch of her sweatpants, absorbing the lubrication from her gushing pussy, it made her cum even harder.
As she came down, panting hard, her hand slowing, but not stopping, only easing back down to a leisurely pace for a lull prior to the next impending peak, a crazy, troubling but welcome thought passed through her head:
Maybe this libido thing isn’t all bad…