Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Romantic, Mind Control, Slavery, BDSM, DomSub, Spanking, Humiliation, Harem, Slow,
Desc: Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Despite the best efforts of the FBI, the neural processors have fallen into unsavory hands. Jonathan Creed is once again thrust into the thick of technological intrigue. Join him as he continues his relationships, and attempts to discover the power of his own neural processor.
The window was open, and the sounds of the city danced into my bedroom ... moving to a beat that is both familiar and sublime. A car alarm blared its unheeded warnings shrilly in a back alley, as a News helicopter thudded over a city made of glass and dreams.
Brave birds attempted to share their songs from their rooftop perches, while the horns of angry cabbies occasionally raised their voices ... eager not to be forgotten. My drapes fluttered gracefully in the city breeze ... carrying with them the stench of urban life.
New York City is my home and my prison ... depending upon my mood ... depending on my job.
In a fold of leather resting on my bedside table is an ID card and a badge that identifies me as Jonathan Creed, an FBI agent.
The Bureau demands hard hours from its employees. The pay is slim and the work is taxing ... both mentally and emotionally. For the longest time my identity as an agent was the role that defined me.
However, in the past half a month, a beam of happiness disrupted me from wallowing in my own depression.
In the bathroom of my townhouse was a girl named Sarah Gale.
She is new in my life. Circumstances brought us together ... but we have made the best of our situation, and it is because of her ... a girl who claims to be my slave ... that I see myself with different eyes. Sometimes, when I see her look at me with adoration ... with worship ... I find myself believing that I can fill the role of 'Master.' But roles change. Sometimes they deepen and become an inseparable part of you, and sometimes they disappear, leaving nothing in their wake but emptiness.
I was lying on the bed when the phone rang.
The melodious unassuming ring jarred me from my musings.
I had been contemplating life, a dangerous subject to be sure. But nonetheless, I had been contemplating something that a dear friend and mentor had once said to me. He had said that a normal life wasn't worth having, and I agreed with him.
The phone ringing seemed like a normal enough occurrence, though ... and I thought it best that I answer it ... despite the fact that I wasn't expecting any callers.
"Hello, this is Jonathan Creed," I said.
"Um? Hello? Mr. Creed it's Rachel."
I groaned to myself mentally. Rachel Lebrie was my newly appointed secretary. Mr. Jones had decided that due to my 'excellent' work apprehending the corporate criminal Ronald Turner, I was due for a promotion.
Personally, I didn't really think I did much in the way of 'apprehending' Turner. It would be more accurate to say that he 'apprehended' me, and I just happened to get away and raise a few alarms in the process.
Regardless, my new promotion meant two things.
A bigger office that was the size of a bedroom rather than a closet, and a secretary whose purpose would be to answer my calls, deal with annoying subordinates seeking my help, and keep track of me.
I really hated that last part of her job description. If Ms. Lebrie was calling me, then it meant I was needed at the office ... after I had specifically told Jones, my supervisor, that I would be taking two weeks off.
"Ms. Lebrie," I said rather curtly. "Is this urgent? I am five days into a much needed vacation, and would prefer not to be disturbed."
I smiled to myself. This particular disturbance was preventing me from checking in on my showering redheaded slave.
Ms. Lebrie cleared her throat and worked up her courage. "Yes sir, I know that. But we've had an unidentified caller attempt to reach you via your private FBI number."
Private FBI number? Well shit.
There were very few people who had my private contact number and none of them called 'just to chat.' All of them were underground contacts, who were in situations where it was not in their best interest to call a public FBI telephone number.
I sighed, "Did he leave a name?" I asked.
"No sir," Rachel replied earnestly.
"Did he say what he was calling about?"
"No," she said again.
"Did he leave any kind of message at all? I asked exasperatedly. I felt like I was being forced to drag the information out of her.
Rachel cleared her throat nervously again, "Um, yes sir. He asked for you personally, and said that it was urgent you call him back immediately."
Strange, I thought to myself. But I could envision one or three of the more eccentric people on my rolodex acting in such a way.
In the background I heard the shower turn off.
If I hurried I could enjoy a very wet and slippery moment with Sarah before breakfast.
"Rachel, have someone else call him back. Tell him I'm indisposed or something."
I moved to hang up the phone.
"Mr. Creed wait!" Rachel shouted into the phone.
I reluctantly pulled the receiver back to my ear.
"Yes Ms. Lebrie?" I said frostily.
She was slightly out of kilter from yelling. Her desk was positioned just outside my door in the big room called 'the bullpen.' Twenty people were probably looking at her funny right now because she had just shouted.
That was probably why she started whispering.
"It's just ... Mr. Creed. I already had Mr. Scott try and call him back. He lasted two seconds on the phone when your man told him in no uncertain terms that he would only talk to you. He said something about you knowing 'the deal.'"
The connection clicked in my head.
There was only one person who had such a 'deal' with me.
Pietro Moretti, a powerful figure in the New York mob, and probably one of the highest profile information sources I had at my disposal.
I was a little more than surprised that he had called. I usually had to hunt him down when I needed information.
Moretti usually liked to pretend I didn't exist. If he wanted to talk to me, it was important. If Pietro thought it was important, then I needed to talk to him.
"I'll need about forty minutes to get to the office, depending on traffic," I said.
"Yes sir, Mr. Creed. Would you like coffee waiting for you? Or perhaps today's news vid?
"No Rachel, I don't intend to stay long."
"Very well Mr. Creed."
I dropped the phone onto the bed.
Hopefully this could be resolved quickly, whatever it was.
The bathroom door creaked open, and a wall of steam rushed into the bedroom.
"Who was that Master?"
Sarah's fiery red hair was tied up in a towel turban ... woven in that special pattern only girls know how to make. Apart from that, she was naked.
Sarah's neural processor, serial number X18, had altered Sarah's appearance. It had taken a beautiful teenage model, and turned her into a pale flawless goddess.
The gentle swell of her bust glistened with residual moisture, and her bare shaven vulva pouted deliciously at the juncture of her legs. Her green eyes peered up at me, sparkling with mischief.
Sarah's neural processor had a slave fantasy written on it. I don't know the specifics, or how exactly it made her feel, but the long and short of it, is this delicious teenager wanted ... demanded, to be my slave.
And I had promised her I'd try and be the Master she desired.
I took and deep breath, and closed my eyes.
Before she got in the shower, we had talked about me being sterner with her. We talked about me treating her like a real slave. I would have to go back to work ... but I didn't want to go before I addressed this properly.
You can do this Jonathan ... be the Master that she needs.
Something clicked in the back of my head, and I felt a rush of energy pour into my veins. Thoughts, emotions and ideas expanded from nothing out the recesses of my consciousness.
I was her Master, she should be happy to serve me ... there was nothing more desirable than a perfectly submissive, pliant, slave girl ... and this little red head would be mine.
I could feel blood rushing to my cock ... suddenly the thought of dominating Sarah, of subjecting her to my will completely ... made me crazy with lust. I wanted to make her dependent on me. I wanted her to make her anticipate my orders and control like a junkie anticipates heroin.
I opened my eyes, and peered down at my girl.
Sarah's mouth opened slightly in shock. Whatever she saw on my face, hadn't been there a moment ago.
"Why are you addressing me on your feet girl?" I said softly. "Does a slave think herself good enough to stand in her Master's presence?"
Sarah dropped her eyes to the carpet, and shivered. "No Master," she said shakily.
"On your knees girl, and take that towel out of your hair ... I'm already going to punish you, don't provoke me further by wearing clothes I haven't approved for you."
My voice sounded very, very cold.
Sarah slide gracefully down to her knees ... her eyes carefully on my feet, "But Master, my hair won't dry correctly without the towel."
"It will dry naturally girl," I said mercilessly. "If you behave for the next few weeks, perhaps you will earn that towel as a privilege."
Sarah whimpered and took the towel out of her auburn locks, "Yes Master."
I nodded. "Good girl," I said. I put my hand to her cheek, and she nuzzled her head into my palm. "Next time, when you are in my presence, I expect you to stop whatever you were doing, and kneel. I will give you your orders then."
I took my hand away from her face, "The only words you are allowed to say without permission are 'Yes Master, ' if you wish to say something else, you will ask me first."
Sarah's eyes widened at the sudden influx of new rules.
"Do you understand girl?" I asked impatiently.
She nodded, "Yes Master."
"Good." I said. "Now, to answer your question, that was my new secretary, she needs me to pop into the office for a quick phone call."
Sarah nodded, "Master may I speak?"
"How long will you be gone Master?" Sarah asked huskily.
"Why do you ask girl?" I said.
Sarah looked flustered; a subtle red flush crept up her neck and colored her cheeks. The back of my head tingled and a realization dawned upon me.
"You're not horny are you my little girl?"
Sarah sucked in a tiny gasp, I watched her beautiful pale flanks inflate.
I smiled, "If I reached between those legs of yours, would I find you wet and ready for me? Is my slave having trouble controlling her sweet cunt?"
Sarah quivered at my harsh language. The regular Jonathan didn't talk like that. He didn't degrade women in a voice as calm as a summer breeze.
"Answer me girl."
"Yes Master, I am ... very aroused."
"And you'd like to know if I have time to satisfy your little urges before I go to the office ... is that right?"
She nodded again.
"What's made you so hot and heavy little girl? You may speak."
Sarah's voice was unsteady and laden with lust, "Y ... you ... Master ... your being so firm with me ... and I feel like ... like ... nothing more than a little disobedient slave girl."
I smiled. "Continue."
Sarah took a shaky breath, "Well ... it's ... it's just that ... I want this all the time ... I feel so ... servile ... it's making me drip ... please ... Master ... fuck me before you go ... please I'll do anything."
I laughed, "You'll have to get used to this treatment girl. I'm going to be treating you like this as often as I can ... and you'll have to control yourself, you can't beg for sex every time I demand service from my slave ... from my property."
"Climb up onto my lap slave; I need to administer your punishment before I go."
Sarah nodded dejectedly, "Yes Master."
I sat down on the bed and patted my thighs. Sarah slowly draped herself over my legs. Her beautiful bare ass wagged enticingly on my lap as she wiggled around ... trying to make herself comfortable.
I slapped her ass, "Stop squirming slave, I don't have all day to do this."
Sarah cried softly ... a slight pink glow appeared on her bottom where my hand had struck.
"I'm going to give you twenty swats today Sarah ... you will count them out ... do you understand?"
She nodded miserably from across my legs.
To begin, I gently rubbed up and down Sarah's sides ... goose flesh emerged along her legs, and she began to grind her pelvis into my thighs.
I pressed a palm down into her back to stop her. "None of that now, Sarah ... you've got a punishment to endure."
"Yes Master," she said, with her face dangling off my lap.
I patted her on the head, and began kneading the soft flesh on her buttocks. Sarah moaned ... and wiggled.
"One ... Master," Sarah said with a whimper.
"Two ... Master,"
Her cheeks began to glow a bright ruby read...
After the eleventh blow ... Sarah started to weep gently. Her hands strayed back to her bottom in an attempt to shield herself.
"Hands back down at your sides girl," I said sternly.
"But Master ... it hurts ... it hurts so much..." she simpered.
"Of course it does my girl ... this is punishment, not pleasure. Now ... hands back down ... you have nine more left."
Sarah choked back another sob ... and slowly dropped her hands back away from her assaulted posterior.
Tears began to fall freely from her eyes ... but I didn't stop ... something in the back of my mind was leading me. It was telling me that this was needed to deepen our relationship ... to firmly establish a Master and slave relationship that we both desired.
"Twenty Master," Sarah sighed between sobs.
I soothed her assaulted flesh with my fingers, and she moaned slightly. I let my hands drift farther south ... and lightly touched her pussy. Her sex was so wet it was dripping down her leg. What I had mistaken for sweat ... was actually the evidence of her extreme arousal.
I gently nudged her ... indicating that she should get off my lap. Almost like a liquid, Sarah poured off my lap ... and sunk to her knees on the floor in front of me. Tears were still clinging to her face.
I couldn't let up ... something was telling me not to ... something was dragging me into the role we both needed.
"Thank me for disciplining you girl," I said gruffly, "Thank me for taking you in hand."
Sarah looked down at the carpet ... her auburn red her fell around her face and caressed her cheeks.
"Thank you for punishing your slave Master, I'm sorry ... I won't do it again."
I nodded, "Good," I stood up off the bed, "I have to get ready to go into the office."
Sarah grabbed my leg from her place on the floor, "Oh ... please Master, let me suck you or something ... please ... let me serve you ... let me give you pleasure."
My pants tightened as my cock inflated.
No ... something said ... not now ... delayed gratification ... make her realize that she will serve you when you ask her for it ... make her beg for her orgasm ... and then refuse it anyway.
"Let go of my leg slave girl," I said softly.
Sarah looked up at me ... confused ... and let go of my leg.
"Girl, look under my bed for a box."
Sarah made to stand ... but I gently pushed her back down. "Crawl please."
Her face turned red again ... and she began to pant lightly. She moved on her hands and knees to the bed. I watched as her pink punished ass waved delectably in front of me.
I glanced at the watch on my bedside table. Ten minutes had flown by.
"Hurry girl," I said ... I had said I'd be in at the office in forty minutes. I still needed to shower and shave.
Sarah emerged with an open box and a puzzled expression.
I took the box from her, and fished out my recently purchased implements. Sarah's eyes widened when I fished out a pair of leather handcuffs, and a shiny metal bullet vibrator.
"Tell me Sarah, when I left ... what were you planning on doing?"
Sarah reddened for what must have been the fifth time this morning.
"Well?" I asked.
"I ... I ... was," she trailed off.
"You were going to masturbate weren't you?" I asked brutally.
Sarah nodded miserably. She looked like she wanted to sink into the floor.
"Well we can't have that now can we?" I said lightly, "hands behind your back girl."
Sarah groaned ... but obediently turned around ... and presented her hands to me. I clicked the cuffs around her wrists.
"But ... Master. Why can't I masturbate?" Sarah said plaintively as she rubbed her legs together.
I spoke the words as they appeared in my head.
"Because your orgasms belong to me now Sarah ... and I like you in this state ... when you're wet and needy and sexual. I'm going to keep you like this for my pleasure."
I smiled wickedly down at her.
"Don't you want to please me dear slave girl?"
Sarah shuddered... "Yes Master," she said quietly.
"Good," I said. "I'm going to put this vibrator in you ... you are under no circumstances allowed to come. Do you understand?"
I bent down ... and eased the little silver bullet into her weeping sex. I turned the dial to 'low.' It began buzzing quietly inside my little slave girl's vagina.
"If I come back and that vibrator isn't still securely seated inside of you ... you will be punished."
Sarah nodded. She was already bucking her hips ... trying to get the stimulation she needed to orgasm.
"I'll tell Carol you're restrained up here so she can free you in case of an emergency."
Sarah barely heard me ... her face was flushed with sweat and her red hair clung damply to her face. Her legs alternated between closed and open ... as she lost control of her higher functions.
I chuckled, "Good girl."
I went into the bathroom ... and closed the door on her whimpers
My shower was brief.
The water was hot ... but it did little to clear my head. I still felt raw energy thrumming through my veins. A small part of my brain was horrified at the degrading treatment I just put Sarah through.
She was a girl whom I'd come to love.
Yet a stronger part of me ... was at peace. My wish was granted ... I had acted very much the part of the Master ... but 'acted' was the wrong word ... I had become her Master.
I wondered briefly if that was a role I could slip in and out of. Surely something couldn't feel so real without leaving a mark. Without leaving something behind.
I turned the water off ... and stepped out of the shower stall.
I slapped some 'Bristler' on my morning stubble and watched as the tiny hairs fell off my chin and cheeks. I did a brief check to make sure I got it all ... and then carefully washed the gel off ... making sure not to let any get near the hair on my head.
I toweled myself dry quickly and stepped back out into the bed room.
Sarah was on the floor panting ... the little silver vibrator lay on the carpet next to her ... buzzing away.
"Well well..." I said, "Disobeying me so quickly?"
Sarah moaned ... and looked up at me with eyes that spoke of lust and submission, "I swear I tried to keep it in ... but my legs wouldn't stay still ... and ... and..." Sarah trailed off.
"Did you orgasm?" I asked sternly.
Sarah sighed, "No Master ... I swear..."
For some reason ... I knew beyond a doubt that she was telling the truth.
"If I didn't have to go I would punish you right now ... but since I'm in a hurry, and you can't seem to obey on your own ... perhaps I'll help you keep our little silver friend inside you."
I rummaged once more through the box, and produced some leather panties with cinchers on the sides.
"It's not an actual chastity belt," I said, "But it would be near impossible to get these off without your hands."
Sarah looked at the leather garment with undisguised horror, "Please ... Master..."
I ignored her ... and slipped the little silver bullet back inside her messily wet and sticky snatch. She groaned as it sunk inside her ... still buzzing.
I slipped her legs into the leather panties ... and pulled them up so that they sat over her crotch. Then I adjusted the little clips on the side ... and tightened them ... so no amount of wiggling would allow her to get free. I made sure the leather gusset would hold the little bullet ... and then stood back to admire my handy work.
Sarah lay against the wall ... moaning and bucking in abject helplessness ... and frustration.
I turned ... and went to my closet.
It was a strange sensation to go through the normal process of donning on my suit and watch ... while listening to the stifled little squeaks of pleasure emanating from my slave girl in the corner. In my opinion ... I couldn't see how I ever got dressed without them.
With one last glance at my subjected red head ... I stepped out of the bedroom, fully attired.
As soon as I left the bedroom, that curious energy that had been hammering inside of me drained away. I had to grab the bannister for support as my vision swam and my legs wobbled.
It took me ten seconds to gather myself, and then I made my way down the stairs.
I had given Carol the downstairs guest bedroom.
Carol was another woman with a chip in her head. She herself was about twenty six, two years older than me. She had long brown hair and a cute face. She wasn't the goddess that Sarah had been turned into ... but she did alright for herself ... that is, until you got to know her.
She had been nothing but a nuisance for me since she took up residence.
I had come close to ordering her to behave herself ... but I felt guilty using her absolute obedience to me in that way ... I could easily become her oppressor if I wasn't careful ... I could replace her father in that regard.
I knocked gently on her door, "Carol?" I said.
"Yes?" She called out irritably from the confines of the guestroom.
"Sarah is ... um ... restrained upstairs. If there is an emergency ... like a fire or something ... you'll need to help her."
I heard a snort on the other side of the door.
"Yeah, yeah ... I'll let the little slave slut out if something happens," Carol said in a harsh voice.
I clenched my fists outside the door ... I had the power to make her join the little slave slut on the ground with nothing more than a few words ... but I wouldn't.
I took a deep breath ... and calmed myself.
"Thank you," I said politely, and descended the rest of the stairs.
Breakfast was a quick granola bar ... and instant coffee ... and it would have to be eaten on the go.
I opened the front door, closed it behind me and treaded down the steps in front of my house. I opened my car door, while balancing coffee and granola ... and situated myself inside.
I steeled myself for the New York City traffic ... and pulled away from the curb.