Jonathan Creed

I drew a line at the bottom of the paper. I placed an X in front of it.

I wanted her to sign the paper ... chip or no chip ... claims of undying servitude or not ... I wanted a physical manifestation of her willingness. I knew this document would in no way be legal. It was ... in the most simplest of ways ... an excuse ... something that I could look at to allay my moral objections.

I centered the piece of paper on the front of my desk. I placed the pen neatly next to it. I then rotated it so that it would be right side up for someone on the other side of the desk.

I sat back in my chair and waited.

I often sat in my chair like this ... with nothing to do. Jim called it brooding. I called it being miserable and bored.

But today wasn't like the other days ... today I wasn't just sitting around ... waiting until the FBI tugged at my leash.

Today I was waiting for my beautiful and self proclaimed slave to walk in ... with a cup of coffee no less.

That made me smile.

-------

A small knock rapped on the wooden door to the study.

"Come in," I called out.

The door creaked open. Sarah padded slowly into the room. Her eyes were focused down on the ground in front of her. She was carefully not looking at me.

She was holding a steaming mug in her hands.

Her dress was even more frazzled than it was after our impromptu morning spanking, and her hair was a mess.

Sarah skittishly approached the desk. She extended her arms and proffered the mug to me.

"I'm sorry I took so long Master, but I couldn't find where you kept the filters ... and I ... well." She looked down...

I took the mug. "What else kept you Sarah?"

She clenched her eyes shut. "I masturbated."

I sighed. "Where?"

She gulped. "On the couch..." she said tentatively.

I took a long draught from the mug. The coffee was hot ... and it tasted wonderful.

I fixed my eyes upon my red headed slave. "Sarah, look at me."

She slowly brought her spring green eyes up to look into mine. I stared at here for a long while ... she seemed truly anxious. What a turnaround from the spunky girl who called me a nerd just earlier this morning.

"Sarah," I said softly... "Don't worry about it ... there were no rules in effect to keep you from doing that."

She exhaled loudly. She smiled brightly at me. "Thanks ... sorry, I'm still new at this."

I raised an eyebrow at her. "You know, you don't have to do this."

She nodded her head, and fixed me with a death glare consistent with the spunky Sarah ... not the slave Sarah.

"I want to do this MASTER", she said with some force.

"Alright ... take a look at the paper in front of you then."

She glanced down at the sheet of paper. Her stance was much less submissive. In fact, she was standing quite confidently ... in contrast to the hunched posture she had when she thought she was in trouble.

"Is this it?" She said sarcastically. "Come on, I thought you could be a little more creative than this. I mean, most of these are the ones I said. And the last one was a given."

I sighed. "Are you disappointed that you don't have more rules to follow? I thought teenagers weren't big on rules to begin with."

She stuck her tongue out at me. "I want this..."

I crossed my arms and sat back in my chair. "You know, you're not acting very slave like at the moment."

She cocked her head and looked at me. "I'm trying out what you said to me. I'm not going to lose my personality to this slavery thing. True it turns me on like no other, and true I do think of myself as a slave. But I'm going to be me still ... sarcasm and all."

I gave a small chuckle. "I didn't know slaves got to be sarcastic to their masters."

She smiled back at me. "Oh don't worry Master, if you asked me to do anything I'd comply. If you wanted a quick fuck right now I wouldn't deny you ... in fact ... I'd beg you for it ... I'm still me ... but I'm also sex slave ... do you understand?"

Not really ... but hey ... this sounded a little out of my depth emotionally.

"It sounds like you have it figured out. But to make your slavery official I want you to sign that paper."

She glanced back down at it. "Yeah ... sure, I'll agree to all these rules and more."

I rolled my eyes. "We'll wait until we are more comfortable before adding the 'and more' part."

She picked up the pen, and signed her name in big loopy cursive. She put it back down. "There, happy?"

I smiled at her... "Very, my little slave."

She shivered... "Ug ... it shouldn't turn me on so much to hear you say that." She looked at me. Her eyes filled with lust and longing. "If I begged you for that quick fuck ... would you use your slave Master?"

I looked at her, and then shook my head. "The first time we have sex will not be on the floor of my library slave."

She gave her best Cheshire cat grin. "Whatever you say Master."

She looked around my library ... at the numerous books and the endless wooden paneling. "You really are a nerd aren't you? Have you read all these books?"

This girl was so unpredictable. "You remember the last time you called me a nerd you practically groveled for forgiveness."

She smiled, and then looked down. "If it offends you I will grovel again Master ... you should take me over your knee for such impertinence."

I groaned. I was hard underneath my shorts. "It is hardly punishment if you ask for it. And I will have you groveling later slave ... and no ... I haven't read all these books ... but I plan to."

"Some of them look frightfully boring."

I broke out into a full blown laugh. "Some of them are."

Sarah looked around the room again. "Um, can we go somewhere else? You seem to have the only chair."

I smiled at her. "I know."

She raised an eyebrow, and put her hands on her hips.

I kept smiling. "You are going to kneel at my feet next to me, while I finish up some paper work."

Sarah's knees wobbled. Without underwear to catch it, I could see her own lubrication running down her legs. "Yes Master." She said in her demure slave voice. She walked around the desk. She stood for a second next to my chair ... and then slowly sank to her knees.

"Slave," I said.

She looked up at me ... with a rather wanton expression on her face. "Yes Master?"

"You are currently in violation of rule six."

She smiled naughtily at me. "Of course Master."

She quickly reached down and pulled her dress up over her head. I got my first good at her breasts and her body. She had the regular smattering of moles and imperfections that any person had. Her breasts were a little on the petite size. What I had originally mistook for C cups were really B cups.

I quickly looked away when she glanced up and caught me ogling.

-------

It was incredibly hard to concentrate with a red headed model kneeling next to me, especially when she occasionally moaned her arousal.

That was odd.

I thought girls usually required at least some form of stimulation to be so aroused.

After a string of particularly loud mewls I lost my patience. "Slave, stay silent or I will have to gag you." I said gruffly.

My words had the opposite intended effect. Sarah groaned loudly and collapsed completely on the floor. She was having an orgasm. Her legs were glistening with lubrication. I could see her shaven pussy grasping at nothing as it contracted.

I waited until she regained control of herself.

"Correct me if I'm wrong ... but normal people do not orgasm simply from words alone."

Sarah replied ... breathlessly. "Normally no ... but I think the chip is helping my responses along..."

Sarah caught her breath ... and I returned to my work.

-------

We continued like that for a good hour.

Sarah broke the silence. Her voice was quiet ... and I almost didn't hear her.

"Um, Master. What does your ideal woman look like?" Her voice sounded shaky ... and her eyes seemed looked wary.

I figured this was some insecurity thing ... and I didn't even look up from my paper work. "You're beautiful Sarah."

Sarah nodded ... and smiled a quiet sort of smirk. "Thank you Master ... but really ... everyone has fantasies ... so please tell me."

I tore my gaze away from my file.

"Sarah ... why do you want to know so bad?"

In my experience ... girls didn't want to know the male fantasy girl ... words like 'sexist' tend to get thrown around when us males answer that particular question.

"Please, Master ... just describe her ... and don't just describe someone who looks like me." Her face was screwed up ... like she was having the most incredible headache.

I paused ... and gave her question serious thought.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

She nodded miserably, as if afraid of what I might say.

I decided to go for it. "Well, I actually really like girls with red hair ... but a bit longer than yours. Yours reaches to about your shoulders ... my fantasy girl's hair comes down to her bottom."

Sarah nodded, still looking pained.

I continued. "Um, you're pretty pale already ... but I've always had a thing for porcelain white girls ... so I guess my fantasy would be a shade paler."

Sarah didn't even respond this time.

I was into this now. "Also, I've always been like other males in that I like big breasts ... Now yours aren't small but I've always had a thing for D cups. Anything larger than that and it tends to look a bit ridiculous ... but D cups are perfect."

Sarah groaned.

"Also, I've always liked it when a girl simply has no blemishes on her skin ... I know that sort of makes them look like dolls ... but to see uninterrupted creamy white flesh has always been a turn on of mine ... also I like it when a girl simply has no hair anywhere but on her head. Like those swimsuit models that get a laser to permanently remove it."

Sarah looked totally dejected now. "Is that all?" She asked with a bitter tone.

I paused ... surprised ... she had asked for this after all.

"Yes." I replied.

"Great," Sarah said, in full sarcasm mode. "Because that is what I'll look like in twenty four hours."

That didn't sound good.

Sarah stood up from her position on the floor, and stormed out of the library. She slammed the door on her way.

My head was reeling ... what did she mean ... by saying she was going to look like my fantasy...

She couldn't be planning on getting some sort of extensive surgery could she? No, that would be crazy...

My paper work lay forgotten on my desk.

I had bigger puzzles to muddle through.

-------

Chapter 13

I decided to wait her out.

It wasn't like she could go anywhere. If she wanted to go get extensive surgery she would need transportation. The keys to my car were in my desk, and I took the phone on my desk off the hook, so she couldn't call a cab. Patrolling cabs never came by my neighborhood.

I couldn't fathom what had brought this on. It was a bit strange for a woman to ask a male what his fantasy female would look like. In all honesty I had just given a description of Sarah with bigger breasts and a better complexion. Not one of my most creative moments ... but it was the answer that most red blooded American men would have given.

Which is exactly why I should have kept it to myself.

Sarah was at the very least interesting. At times she seemed to completely acquiesce to the chip and act like a slave, at other times her fiery personality shone through.

After about thirty minutes I started to get a little anxious. I started to spin a pen around in my hand ... something I knew I only did when I was unsettled.

What I really wanted was a drink ... but I needed to think clearly. I had gotten into this mess by not using my head ... I needed to get creative, and start acting like I knew what I was doing.

It was after an hour had past when I heard the shriek.

I paused for a beat. Then I leapt out of my chair and ran for the door. Another shriek pierced the house. It was coming from Sarah's bed room. I bounded down the stairs, taking them two at a time, and I practically kicked down the guest room door.

Sarah was lying naked on her bed. She was flushed and writhing on top of the sheets. I grasped her by the shoulders and looked down into her pain filled eyes.

"SARAH!" I screamed. "Sarah what's wrong? Are you ill ... please God Sarah, tell me what's wrong."

Tears were streaming from down her cheeks ... but she gazed up at me and smiled...

"I'm changing for you Master ... I'm going to be your fantasy woman ... I'm going to be perfect for you..."

Her words were cut off by a gut wrenching moan.

I grabbed her face with my hands and focused her onto my face. "What do you mean Sarah ... what do you mean changing for me?"

Sarah moaned. "The chip ... it's making the changes you asked for ... the last stage of the symbiosis is taking place ... I don't know how I know this ... but ... oh Master it hurts ... I wish it didn't hurt so much."

Sarah was crying openly now. She threw her arms around my neck and hugged me hard. Her naked breasts pushed up into my chest.

"Sarah ... do you mean to say that the chip is turning you into the woman I described in the study?"

She simply nodded, and hugged me tighter. Her body was incredibly warm, almost as if she were running a fever...

Oh my god ... she's running a fever.

I tore myself away from her and ran into the bathroom. I jerked open the medicine cabinet. I kept a spare thermometer in there.

"Open your mouth," I said. Sarah opened her mouth.

"Keep this under your tongue."

She nodded.

My heart sank as I watched the number slowly tick higher and higher.

103 Fahrenheit. Not good.

I start to think quickly. I didn't have the qualifications of a doctor, and Sarah was burning up. The first thing she needed was an ice pack. The next thing she needed was someone who knew what the hell to do.

I tore down to the kitchen to get the ice. I was on my cell phone at the same time.

Jim picked up on the first ring.

"John, I thought you weren't coming back for a week?"

"I'm not Jim but I have a situation here ... do you have Dr. Thompson's phone number?" I asked frantically.

"No need John, I'm standing right next to him ... I'll give you to him now." I could hear the cell phone switching hands.

"Hello? Agent Creed? Doctor Thompson speaking."

I sighed in relief. "Listen Dr. Thompson, there have been some complications with the neural processor. I was wondering if you could come down here and help. She's running a pretty high fever."

There was a pause.

"How high," he asked.

"One hundred three," I replied.

He grunted in affirmation. "Alright, I'll bring some of my gear down and take a look at her, if her temperature gets any higher than that take her to the hospital."

I was relieved Thompson was coming. "Get Jim to give you my address. I'll leave the front door open for you. We'll be on the second floor."

"Alright Agent Creed, I'll be there as soon as possible."

-------

Sarah was shaking on the bed. I tried my best to help her, but I was useless. I held an ice pack to her head, and stroked her hair softly. I whispered in her ear that everything would be alright ... even though I was freaking out.

I heard the front door open ... then feet on the stairs.

Jim and Dr. Thompson burst into the room. Dr. Thompson was holding one of those old fashioned physician bags, the ones doctors use to make house calls.

Dr. Thompson approached Sarah. He pulled a pen light out of his pocket. He lifted Sarah's eyelids with one hand and waved the light in front of Sarah's eyes.

He turned and looked at me. "She seems to be in pain, but not of disabling magnitude. She is still responsive. However, she is far too warm, even with the ice pack."

I looked between him and Jim. "What should we do?"

Doctor Thompson peered into the bathroom. "Is there a tub in there?"

I nodded.

He smiled. "Good, fill it with cold water, we're going to have to dump her in it ... um, is she dressed under these sheets?"

I shook my head.

Dr. Thompson shrugged. "I guess modesty comes second ... let's move her to the tub ... then I have questions for you ... the tub is a temporary solution ... we still may need to get her to a hospital."

I filled the tub with cold water ... Jim and I gently eased her into the frigid bath, while Dr. Thompson took notes on his notepad.

We returned to the guestroom.

Dr. Thompson cleared his throat. "Let's talk in here, it would be unwise to stray very far from her in this condition."

I sat down on the bed, and Jim occupied the chair in the corner of the room. Dr. Thompson leaned against the wall next to the bathroom door.

"Alright Mr. Creed, tell us how you know the neural processor is responsible for the fever. It is flu season you know ... Sarah might just have a bit of a bug."

For a second I imagined that her pain wasn't my fault ... that she had simply come down with a cold ... it was a nice thought...

"She told me the chip was doing it." I replied.

Dr. Thompson nodded, and made a note on his pad. "Alright, how did she know that the chip was responsible?"

I shrugged. "She has frequently said that she 'knows' things without knowing why ... my assumptions are that the chip is supplying her information subconsciously."

Another note was scribbled down.

"Very well," Thompson said, "Now, what did she say was the cause of her current state?"

I hesitated ... then I told them about how she had asked me what my fantasy woman was ... and how she claimed the chip was transforming her.

Dr. Thompson and Jim were silent. Jim looked horrified ... and Thompson looked ... fascinated.

Dr. Thompson began writing furiously. "Well this is extraordinary ... we'll have to keep her closely monitored to see if these changes actually take place ... but think about it, if we could replicate this technology we could change people to look however they desired! UniCORP could have made a fortune on this alone! I wonder how it does it...? Jonathan, what were the characteristics of this fantasy woman of yours."

I told him ... dejectedly. Somehow I just couldn't match his enthusiasm.

He scratched his balding head. "Hmm, to give her bigger breasts the chip would have to tell her brain to increase her estrogen levels ... it would have to lower melanin output to change her skin tone ... and to get rid of blemishes it would have to order those imperfect cells to die, all while stimulating her hair follicles to expedite hair growth ... my God ... if it could do all that it would be CAPITAL! ... I wonder how the chip translates the words that Creed said into orders for Sarah's brain?"

Jim coughed. "Yes, um, Dr. Thompson ... while this is a great day for science ... it is a terrible day for that poor girl in there."

Dr. Thompson calmed down... "Yes ... well ... yes of course you're right ... however, if these symptoms are being caused by her neural processor then there is nothing I can do ... how long did Sarah say this would take?"

"Twenty four hours," I said.

"Very well, I will take my leave then Agent Creed. If you think its okay, I will return this time tomorrow to see if the changes really did take place, I'll also give her a physical at the time, to ensure that she is okay."

I nodded. We all stood, and I shook Dr. Thompson's hand. "Thank you for coming out here Doctor."

Thompson smiled. "Think nothing of it."

Thompson walked out of the guest room. Jim turned to follow. "You know Jonathan, I'm disappointed in you. This girl is helpless, and you're in this house all alone with her getting your rocks off."

I look down at the floor.

Jim shook his head. "I just thought you were made of sterner stuff than this my friend ... but I suppose I just forget how young you really are. You never had the typical college experience ... most adults get this kind of behavior out of there system then. But you're just twenty four. You should be playing beer pong and having one night stands, not dealing with corrupt corporations and victims like Sarah."