Chapter 5: Expanding Horizons

(Four years ago)

By August of the following year, Alex had finished her Ph.D. The University Trustees, the President of the University, the Chair of the Computer Science Department, one R.J. Ambuster, and all the faculty of the CS department agreed that she didn't need to submit a disertation, her body of work would be enough. Only eight months from start to finish was an amazingly short time for a Ph.D., but she was exceptional. Nobody knew why exactly, but they were convinced that she was. She was given a position on with tenure, of course, as a full professor, and was the darling of the department. She didn't need to publish or teach, and she was clearly going to be the next department head. It was amazing!

Alex spent all her energy expanding the capabilities of the department's computer system, and thereby, the UFW system. She devoted a lot of time and energy to managing her private projects.

She had managed to expand MPC's capabilities to 500 km. – she could make it virtually unlimited now but that cluttered her screen with far too much information. There were 300 million plus people in the US, of course, and the US was just one of many countries. She couldn't protect everybody, everywhere. Of course she kept checking MPC for Users who were abusers – sexually.

Once her purview extended to Houston, she found several abusers of society at large, but these were legal abusers – those who made large profits legally but did things that – in her opinion – were wrong. She was tempted to make them stop. She could have.

Where does one draw the line? I could have all this power – and power corrupts. It even corrupts me.

One draws little lines, at first, it seems.

She had an oil company CEO set up a foundation that would pay the tuition expenses of Ambuster's victims. That was only a few million dollars. His company would even get a tax write off.

Alex wrote a program for a big bank that was having a corporate meeting in Dallas. By the time the meeting was over, the bank had decided to purchase the program for a large, but reasonable, sum and to hire Alex Chatris as a consultant to oversee the program's ongoing implementation, for another large but reasonable sum. No one ever really understood what the new program would do, but that was all right. It was necessary, said the Board of Directors and senior management.

Alex moved herself into a much more comfortable home in an exclusive neighborhood of Fort Worth. It had several rooms that none of the workmen could remember building. Special rooms, that contained special equipment.

She hadn't forgotten her original goal. She'd been sidetracked for awhile, but she hadn't forgotten.

The things you don't know at first, you learn by doing twice.

So true.

Alex was bored looking for MPC abUsers; most of those in the DFW area were hidden and she wasn't really interested in looking behind the curtain to see if some wizard was truly evil. It would take a fair amount of digging. So she settled for checking the roster of incoming football players to UFW for next year, and found Rex Weston. An enhanced function of MPC revealed all his sexual partners within the last x days. She began to check for 30 days and there were a lot of them; two and three per week. She checked for 60 days and found even more.

Rex was the school's quarterback and would be getting a free ride at UFW. He was 19 when Alex found him, in his senior year, and he had just arranged for a sophomore cheerleader to be 'initiated' by the team – or as much of the team who weren't pussies.

The team, in Rex's mind, was divided in two groups: pussies and non-pussies. The pussies didn't want to have anything to do with degrading the girls that Rex identified. You see, Rex had this idea that it would be hilarious if all the sophomore class of cheerleaders would finish the year with swelled bellies, and no real recollection of how they got pregnant.

He and Mary Lou Patterson, the captain of the cheerleader squad, and Rex's permanent steady, kept track of the target girls' periods. Then, two weeks later, the girl was invited to a special meeting of the cheerleaders. She was slipped two roofies by Mary Lou, and was spirited out to Rex. Rex then took her to another kind of party. One with the non-pussies on the team, and starring a very naked, seemingly willing and drugged girl.

The boys – one could hardly call them men, could one? – would take turns filling all of the girl's holes, but making sure they wore a condom when they fucked her pussy. Rex didn't want them to think she'd get pregnant. On the way home, Rex took care of that himself; he always left the girl with a load of his baby makers soaking into her womb. Sometimes he'd leave her with two or three loads, if she was 'his type' – i.e., if she had big boobs.

Then he'd drop her off at her house, and go back in time to find Mary Lou cleaning up after the party. She'd suck him off – it seemed that she liked the flavor of young girl pussy on Rex's dick.

Alex caught Rex in flagrante blowjob so to speak. She froze the diagram and looked for the name of his partner. His partner was Ellen Margolis, a 15 year old, who at the time was unconscious, and yet had her ankles linked behind her head. He had just removed his prick from her lips and was now plowing her pussy. Like other girls Alex had seen, there was a red blip in her womb, and Ellen's status was showing pregnant.

A quick check showed the presence of semen in her anus and throat. Alex didn't need to see the list of drugs in her system, but her blood profile showed the date rape drug and plenty of alcohol, anyway. Okay, so she was a stupid girl. That didn't mean she deserved to be literally fucked over.

Alex decided that Rex needed to be taught a lesson. She shrunk his penis to a tiny thing, and suggested that he would explain it as the side effects of steroid use. She prevented him from cumming unless he had just finished eating out a woman – then he would cum immediately. She also added an instruction that he would feel extreme remorse at having raped Ellen; his remorse would color all his dealings with any female.

That night, Alex also discovered that entering instructions in the Mental section of MPC was kind of like post-hypnotic suggestions. She couldn't reverse what was already in a person's mind and couldn't make him think something or think some way that was different from his normal pattern of thinking. She could only add feelings or memories – or delete them. In other words, she could make him remorseful, but she couldn't do away with his S.O.B.-ness. A User could instruct a subject to 'submit to a master', but could not make him a 'submissive personality.'

So when Rexiepoo (as he was known to Mary Lou) dropped off Ellen at her home, he returned to Mary Lou's place as usual. And as usual, Mary Lou dropped to her knees and began to suck on his (now) tiny cock. She didn't think anything of it, because of the Mitigate instructions that MPC inserted. She sucked and sucked, but to both parties' surprise, Rex couldn't come. He decided it was her fault.

He visited her the next day and the day after that and the day after that. She sucked him raw and left a hickey on his wee little dickey. She thought that was hilarious. He didn't. Of course ("OF COURSE"??!!), he lost control of himself, and pulled back and slapped her across the face, over and over.

Mary Lou wound up with a broken nose, and two black eyes. Rex wound up in jail for beating her up. Looks like UFW is going to have to get a different freshman quarterback.

Couldn't have happened to a better pair of abusers, Alex told herself. But she did wind up with a useful lesson in the limitations of MPC's Mental commands.

Alex searched through the roster of all the girls in the school, and arranged to give all of the pregnant girls a miscarriage in the days that followed. Perhaps some of them wanted to have that baby – Alex doubted that, but had to admit it was possible – but they'd feel no particular remorse about the miscarriage. Those that wanted to could get pregnant again.

Alex decided that she'd have to sort out the abusers. Sexual abusers, that is. The social abusers could just be used, within limits. Some sexual abusers were just horrible animals, like her rapist or Mr. TenInches back in Boston. They would just be eliminated, hopefully by using the law – the rapist she put in a different category. Some were serial bad actors, who had never been taught better, like Rex. Maybe they could be made to learn, maybe not. If they fell into the 'not' category, then she'd do what she had to do. And then there were those that fell into the category of merely overly aggressive boys. If her dragnet caught some of them, they'd get a more lenient treatment.

Fully grown men who were MPC abUsers, like Ambuster, would be dealt with on an individual basis.

Speaking of Ambuster, she had to decide what to do with him. She had him purchase a $1 million life insurance policy for each little 'family' he created. The beneficiaries would be the mother and child. That way, when he became truly as useless to the women as he was in real life, they'd have something.

Yes, she was becoming a User.

One rainy Friday morning, Alex looked out the window of her ultra-modern kitchen – which she used so rarely that she needed to dust before picking up a pan to make an omelet. She had no classes on Friday and was just lounging around looking for trouble. She saw the most bedraggled kitten staring at her from the other side of the glass. He was about a handful-sized collection of mud, rain, and gray fur. He had the most startling blue eyes, and white on his chest and all four feet, and he was just staring through the window at her.

She went out the back door and snatched him off the window sill. It wasn't cold, but she guessed he'd been out in the rain for a long time, because he was shivering. When she got him into the kitchen, he said "Meow" in the tiniest voice. She had just become a submissive to feline americanus – or whatever the official name was for a stray cat.

He was dirty and hungry. Alex decided that she'd fix dirty first. Holding Spats – What other name could he have? she wondered – to her terrycloth robe, she turned the kitchen tap so she'd have warm water. And then she put Spats into the stream of water that was designed to wash pots and potatoes. It was never designed for a cat – even a tiny cat.

He struggled, he spat, he hissed, he fought, but eventually she got the mud and burrs out of his fur.

With scratched hands, she held him at arms length and looked at him. "Meeeeeooooooow!" he said to his tormentor.

"Do you have fleas, Spats?" she asked him. He didn't answer. "Probably, you do."

Nevertheless, she spun out of her robe with an arabesque worth of the Bolshoi and engulfed him in its dry warmth. If Spats knew that he was looking at a freshly showered, naked, blonde, blue-eyed, Amazon princess he gave no sign of it. He knew that he liked the dry terrycloth much better than the faucet, and the faucet was better than being outside. He shut his eyes. "Puurrrrrrr," was all he said, but it conveyed his meaning quite well.