CW: Bimbofication, sluttification, mind break, noncon mind fuckery, goonette, pornification
Cover: Apparent-Apparatus https://www.deviantart.com/apparent-apparatus
I
“Turn it off! Turn that damn thing off!”, screamed Agent Hanna Brooks, looking at the techs with a mixture of desperate fear and rage. Behind the glass, the nerds gestured, their palms up, indicating there was nothing they could do. Fuck. Fuck them, fuck the Agency, fuck the mission. Brooks looked at the chair, at the woman convulsing and babbling on it. Seeing her like this was Hell.
Jill Patrick was a breath of fresh air for the Agency and now she was dying on the stupid Full Access Chair. Jill was the youngest of the agents in the Cybersecurity department, a force of nature in the gym and at work, serious, a true believer in the mission. She gave Brooks hope for the future, a sense that some members of the new generation were actually alright, that not everyone in their early twenties was a terminal waste of space. That hope seized in front of her, the screens around Jill bathing her body in red, their declaration of “CONTAINMENT FAILURE” absolutely unhelpful. Brooks had no idea what that meant: the Chair was new tech, and only Jill had been brave enough to volunteer for its maiden voyage. It was supposed to allow an agent to scan through vast amounts of the web while protecting their psyche, keeping the load below a certain threshold. Well, that bit of theory had clearly gone out the window, so Hanna decided to toss the safety protocols aside. Before she knew what she was doing, he yanked cables off Jill: showers of sparks jumped out the machinery in protest. Eventually the alarms fell silent, the screens resigned themselves to their doom and shut off. The machine had done its damage and now rested. Jill’s eyes remained closed, as still as the damn machinery.
“Jill? Jill, wake up!”, screamed Brooks. The nerds made their way into the room, mumbling among one another, discussing hypotheses of what had gone wrong. Brooks had to fight not to deck them. Jill was slowly coming back. Her glassy blue eyes looked around the room in confusion.
“Chat, is this real?”, she asked.
What the fuck?
“Jill. Jill, look at me. I’m here, I’m Hanna, can you see me? You’re okay.”
Brooks tried to make Jill come back to reality. She stared through the older agent, looking at… something that wasn’t there.
Suddenly, she stretched on the chair, her eyes fixed on a point in space, almost as if she was… performing for some unseen entity. “Mmmm… that nap hit different chat, on God! Chat, what are the vibes today? It’s giving… edging. It’s giving goon sesh, chat. Wanna see that?”
“Jill, what the fuck are you talking about? Who the hell are you talking to?”
One of the nerds stepped forward, tried to make sense of the situation. There was a strange excitement in his eyes, and Brooks felt herself getting sick. These fucking assholes were looking at Jill like she was a malfunctioning computer.
“I think… I think she got hit with a feedback surge… the failsafe should have… but if…”
“Speak English, you dumb fuck! What is wrong with her?”, screamed Hanna.
The nerd stammered for a moment before he found the words to keep it simple enough for a field agent.
“So, let’s say… she was supposed to be surfing over data, looking at it, checking it quickly. She… fell off.”
“Fell off? What the fuck does that mean?”
“She fell off! She almost drowned in… well, the fucking Internet, Hanna! Her brain got flooded with all sorts of shit, who the fuck knows what! She’s lucky to be alive!”
A sound put a quick stop to their argument. Jill moaned and smiled, staring at empty space, her hand sliding under her office slacks. “Fell off? Cap, I’m slaying ay eff! Fuck… my cunt is so wet, chat… but what is it with this fit? It’s giving old lady! Next stream I’ll wear something cute for you chat, some nice, sexy, gen-z goonette drip… fuck, it’s gonna be so good… I’m gonna get so many donos, chat… and you know how slutty donos make me…”
Brooks stared in disbelief, before turning away. She couldn’t stand watching Jill acting like… like whoever the hell was occupying her body.
“How the fuck do you explain that?”, he asked the nerd.
“I told you, she took a full blast of Internet right to the brain! And you know what the Internet is full of?”
II
Hanna looked into the enclosure. Enclosure. Fuck. Like Jill was some zoo animal. But the nerds were right, Jill got so agitated when her… delusions weren’t catered to. And they did need to study her if there was any hope of fixing her, of bringing up the old Jill, the real Jill, the Jill that cared about cyber security, the Jill that believed in the mission with a passion. This… new Jill, so to speak, was, well, everything Brooks despised about the new generations.
Even the enclosure was a travesty. It seemed to replicate something like a bizarre nightmare of a college room, with garish neon lights plastered all over, ring lights surrounding the bed, a camera permanently pointing at Jill, broadcasting to nowhere. It was important, according to the nerds, to keep the idea that she was streaming constantly– it was the one thing that kept her active and focused and not jumping from false reality to false reality. It was safer this way: attempts to break her out of her “streaming” habit had led to her trying “Tik Tok challenges” that ranged from flashing “pedestrians” to accidentally dancing into a wall. As repulsive as it was, at least her “streaming” kept her inside one room.
Well, on one bed, to be more precise. Hanna tried to be cold, tried to ignore her heavy makeup and rainbow fishnet bodysuit, tried to filter out the words, the acts. He watched as Jill took a huge hit off a bong. The nerds assured him that weed calmed her down, so they kept her well supplied.
“Fuuuuck… chat this feels so good…”, said Jill as she mounted a pillow and started shamelessly riding it, putting on a show, playing with her tits as her pussy drew moans from her crimson lips. “So fucking high, so fucking dumb, so fucking gone… gooning and gooning and rubbing and grinding for porn… fuck… I love porn so much… I’m so fucking addicted, I’m such a fucking addict, addicted to weed, addicted to porn, addicted to attention… I’m just a fucking little gen-z fucktoy… all for you, chat, all for my lovely pervs, please get worse with me, get dumber with me, goon for me, do it, please, jerk off to me, rub to me, nothing else fucking matters, ignore work, ignore school, cancel plans to goon and goon and goon with me… fuck… so pornbrained… porn broke me… all I do is watch porn… my pornbrain gets triggered all the time… anything… it can make anything into porn… girls walking down the street… ads with pretty sluts… all is porn…”
Brooks watched with horror. And something else, something she’d never admit. Suddenly a chime played on the speakers hidden inside the room. A “donation”. Something necessary to maintain the illusion and her stability, the nerds said.
Jill stuck out her tongue in pure pleasure.
“Yesss! Thank you! Thank you for the dono! I guess you like my glow-up! And donos make me so fucking slutty… no cap, that sound gets me so fucking soaked and pervy and needy! Want to see, chat?” Jill opened her legs and spread her glistening pussy lips for the audience in her head. “This thigh pussy is bussin’, chat, it feels so good, it tells me what do to, it makes me touch her all the time, all the fucking time, I can’t stop, she’s so pretty and pink and desperate… It needs to be filled… Which toy should I use, chat? I want to feel so stretched and useless, fucking myself for hours with a toy…”
Hannah had tried to argue against the toys. After Jill had started grabbing random objects and using them as… sex aids, she had relented. Toys were safer, she figured. She didn’t quite agree with the amount and variety provided by the nerds, however.
“Cock… let this bop pussy get stretched by the big dragon cock, chat… do you want to see that? Would that make you all thirsty for me? Yes, let me grab the big dragon toy… Oh… Oh God… oof, it fills me so good, it’s stretching my little pussy so much! What, chat? You think I can’t take it all? If you think my cunt can’t handle this, you’re delulu. Look at me, chat. Look at what a perverted fucking pornbrained fuckdoll I am… raised by the Internet… molded by porn… let me show you what good gen-z girls do all day…”
Brooks watched as Jill impaled herself on the toy with a scream.
“Fuck yeah! Look how I took it! I fucking ate! Look, look at me, I want you to look at me, I need your attention, I’m such an attention whore, watch me ride this huge cock for you, let me take a hit of my weed vape as I ride it, watch me, watch me fuck up my brain completely, watch me ruin my fucking life for you, watch me, watch me be porn, all girls are porn, porn is the best, porn is everything, porn is the moment, girliepops! Watch me, aren’t I such a good fucking example? Fuck, fuck, it’s stretching me so good, it’s filling me up, filling my mind up, fuck… watch me ride it, watch me be porn for you, edge, edge and drool, we are the porn generation, we love it, we live for it, we want to be perverted for porn, we need to be porn, to be dumb, to fry our brains with poppers and get more and more addicted… porn… porn… fuuuuck…”
Hannah was at least reassured by the fact that the camera was off. The last thing she wanted was for Jill to become something others would want to emulate. Not like this. Old Jill had been a real good role model. This version of her…
“Look at my tits bouncing, chat! They’re snatched as fuck! My big dumb funbags make me porn!”
Better to keep this version a secret.
III
Hanna stormed into the techs’ break room. The fucking nerds needed to pay. They had never intended to fix Jill. They were getting off to her, the sick fucks. Buying her different outfits, catering to their own little fetishes, turning Jill into their living, 24-7 porn.
She had been harboring suspicions for a while. The nerds’ explanations for what supposed “treatments” they were trying had become lazier and lazier, and Jill was, if anything, getting worse. Using more drugs. Sleeping less. Becoming more and more… well, pornbrained.
A deep dive into the network revealed a hidden folder– sure, Hanna was not a tech, but she was still a cyber security agent. Did these fucks believe they could hide things from her? Did they think naming it “Charlie XCX - Greatest Hits” would throw anyone off the scent? The impunity of it all! These men truly thought they could get away with it, get away with recording and saving videos of Jill in her more… extreme moments, exploiting her state for their own pleasure.
No. They couldn’t be allowed to continue. Hanna would stop them.
She got a few words in before she felt a sting, and the world went black.
Things swam back into reality, the light hurting her eyes. She was vaguely aware of the restraints. The realization came, a dull panic. The Chair. She was tied to the goddamn Chair.
Words came to her muffled, distorted.
“No safeguards at all?”, a voice said.
“Nah. Let’s see how that works. Science requires experimentation!”, said the other with barely contained glee.
A sharp pain in her head, and she was gone.
IV
Hanna and Jill made out, their tongues dancing with each other, hands playing with tits, sneaking between legs. They made sure to keep eye contact with the camera at all times. That was the thing that gave them purpose, after all. The agents believed in the mission. Being the most perverted pornbrained sluts for chat was the mission. It had always been the mission, and it felt so fucking good. Jill handed Hanna the poppers, and she took a deep sniff.
The camera was on now. The chat was real, as were the donations. Donations the techs kept for themselves, of course.
“Chat…” said Hanna, “get ready for a fucking marathon!” She showed off the giant, double-sided dildo and looked at Jill.
Jill thought for a second.
“It’s giving ass to ass, for real”, she smiled.
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