Chapter 19

"Master ... master."

Sarah's voice floated above me like a protective angel. I groaned and tried to roll over. To my surprise, I couldn't roll over ... I wasn't even lying down.

"Master, wake up ... you're scaring me..."

I cracked open one bleary eye.

I found myself looking directly into Sarah Gale's perfect green eyes. They were glistening with moisture, and her cheeks were read and puffy.

"Oh Master! Master it's me, can you hear me?"

I groaned, and nodded slowly. My head felt like it was about to split open.

I looked around.

We were in a modern room. Above us, fluorescent lights hummed, and the ceiling was made out of the removable squares.

But these ordinary things lent credence to the extraordinary things.

Like the metal prison style bars that enclosed us in this niche of the room. The bars looked to be made out of the old iron that ancient dungeons preferred.

I attempted to move my hands ... with no luck.

Sarah and I were chained to opposite walls. From what I could see of Sarah, her hands were encased in manacles ... and those manacles were attached to a metal bolt in the wall.

I couldn't see behind myself ... but I assumed my restraints were similar.

I shook my head fiercely ... and tried to remember.

"Sarah," I said huskily... "Sarah, do you know what's going on?"

Sarah was sobbing wretchedly across from me. She looked like the epitome of the damsel in distress. Her hair was wild. She had tears streaming down her cheeks ... and a beautiful blue dress was torn at the bust and at the side, revealing ample amounts of her creamy breasts.

I almost couldn't tell when her sobbing began to sound like words.

"It was Mr. Lovelace Master!" Sarah said. "He was the one who planned my kidnapping! There was no shoot this morning ... he was waiting for me with two other men. He said he was being paid half a million dollars to ... to take me away. I tried to fight them ... but they put this smelly rag on my face ... and I felt so dizzy."

"Shh ... shh ... Sarah, it's alright ... it's alright."

A cold voice pierced our intimate moment. "How do you know everything is alright Mr. Creed?"

My breath caught in my lungs ... and a shiver shot down my spine. I didn't know we were being observed.

I hadn't seen anyone enter our little room.

I looked up.

Standing just outside our cell was Ronald Turner, CEO of UniCORP.

The man could only be described as every woman's dream. He had broad shoulders and a narrow waist. His arms bulged with powerful muscles, and he had a chiseled jaw coupled with dark blue eyes.

He was dressed in a rumpled power suit. I guess being on the run didn't allow for adequate dry cleaning.

I mustered my courage ... and tried to keep a straight tone.

"I guess I don't know if everything is alright. Is everything fine Mr. Turner?"

He glared at me. His handsome face twisted into ugly rage. "No. Everything is not alright. Years of planning has tumbled down around my ears. I hear you're to blame for that."

I tried to give him my best mocking grin, despite the fact that my head felt like shit. "Sorry 'bout that Ronnie."

His dark blue eyes settled into something that could only be called hatred. "That's not actually the reason I've brought you here ... it's just a pleasurable bonus."

Sarah sniffled in the corner. My eyes darted to her ... then back to Ronald.

"Why have you brought us here then?" I asked.

He smiled devilishly, "I'm so glad you asked. You see Jonnie boy ... that girl quietly crying in the corner has something immensely valuable sitting in her pretty little head."

"The neural processer, right?" I said with a sneer.

Turner rolled his eyes. "Is that what the FBI has decided to call my beauties?"

I nodded.

"Figures, I've contemplated hundreds of names based in classical Roman and Greek classical mythology, and some lab geek names them 'neural processors'."

I struggled against my bonds. "Why kidnap us? I'm a high profile target ... and Sarah's processor has already been activated."

Turner laughed. "Because that girl has the last functioning Series X18 chip in the world sitting in her cranium."

I laughed right back at him. "So you lost all your chips? You idiot."

Turner snarled. He grabbed the bars and shook them. He did not present the image of a man in control. "I have stockpiles of chips stashed in secret warehouses all over America! But they're all X16s or A48s."

I raised a cool eyebrow at him. I was trying to anger him... "So what's the difference? I asked sarcastically.

Turner took a deep breath, and let his hands slip from the bars. "The difference, Mr. Creed is evident from Ms. Gale's appearance."

I turned and looked at Sarah. Despite her tears she was still a goddess to behold. Long red hair, and an angelic face.

"The X18's can control the physical features of the subject," I said with wonder.

For the first time I began to seriously contemplate the implications.

Tuner smiled, "I think you're beginning to understand just how valuable she really is."

Ronald Turner and I held eye contact for what seemed like an age.

Water was dripping from a leaky pipe somewhere in the roof. Its consistent noise grated against my ears.

I finally broke the silence. "Why can't you make more? Your company made them ... you should be able to whip up a fresh batch body altering mind control chips in no time."

Turner scoffed. "I was not involved with the actual production. I was merely a checkbook. Elijah Brigs is the mastermind. The chips were his creation; now that he is in custody I have limited options."

"So you must resort to kidnapping so you can replicate what you can't reproduce." I said.

He smiled sweetly. "Yes, something like that. So now I must rip open her head, and pull it out, and you're going to help me."

"You SICK bastard!" Sarah screamed. She jerked against her chains, and fell limp against the wall.

I took a deep settling breath.

"Why do you need my help? Get Carol, or another one of your goons to do it."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why do you think I had you taken as well? For the benefit of this charming conversation?" He chuckled at his own joke.

I waited with grim fascination.

He returned his eyes to mine. "The FBI does not understand the full potential of the X series. As I understand from Carol, that idiot Dr. Thompson was too busy destroying them with his goddamn solution to get a good look at them."

"Those girls needed them destroyed." I said coldly.

He ignored me. "Hence the FBI doesn't know how they function. They couldn't. I was able to escape with all the important information."

Turner gestured to a small duffel bag on the ground.

"So what haven't we figured out?" I said cockily. "Enlighten me."

Turner slowly walked up to the bars. He waited for a moment ... like an actor waiting to deliver a line.

"Each chip has a name," he whispered ... as if he were imparting some piece of vital importance.

There was a brief pause.

"What the hell does that mean?" I asked.

He smiled like a madman. "Each chip has a name ... and that name has power."

He looked at me, and then cocked his head to the side. "According to the files, Sarah's chip is named Violetta."

"I don't understand." I said.

He shrugged, and rummaged in his duffel bag. He produced a laptop and a RN drive. "I suppose you haven't noticed, since she has the sex slave fantasy on it."

I could feel anger welling up inside me. "What haven't I noticed?"

Tuner shrugged. "Think about it. Sex slaves are supposed to do what there Master tells them to do ... to an extent ... so it's no surprise this issue hasn't come up."

"Stop skirting the subject." I said bitterly. "Either explain or don't ... but stop speaking in cryptic messages."

"Very well." He said. "The slave fantasy was not the only code in production. There were others. For example, one code was designed to create the perfect wife ... depending on the individual."

I nodded.

"Well," he continued, "While this fantasy is all very well and good, but this wife might not do everything that her 'imprinter' tells her to do. Why? Because she's a wife, not a sex slave."

I guess that made sense.

He smirked. "So we designed something that would allow the imprinter absolute control should the need arise. You can't change of an existing fantasy if it is already on the chip, but if you know the name of the subject's chip, you can make the subject do anything."

I didn't like the way he said 'anything.' "Why not just make all the chips have the slave fantasy on it? Why bother with all of ... whatever this is?"

He smiled. "I don't think you quite understand the control I'm talking about here. As Sarah's sexual master ... as per fantasy ... you can order her to do anything ... within the scope of reason." He said. "You could ask her to suck your dick ... and she'd do it ... but if you asked her to kill herself ... she'd tell you no way." He paused. "Killing herself isn't part of the fantasy. But as her imprinter, if you wielded the name of her chip ... you could ask her to stop breathing ... and she'd do it."

I spluttered, "You can't order someone to just 'stop breathing.' Even if they held their breath they'd just pass out and breathe anyway."

He shook his finger at me. "That's where you're wrong. If we can design a chip that can order the brain to change the body ... that same chip can order the brain to shut the lungs down. Absolute control. With the name of the chip you can order Sarah's body to do anything. She is literally your plaything."

I felt my stomach churning.

"So how does this help you get the chip back? And why do you need me?" I asked tentatively.

He scowled. "Weren't you listening? I need the imprinter to say the name. The chip doesn't accept its name from anyone else."