General Disclaimers: While it features no ‘on-screen’ sexual activity or explicit adult situations, this hypnofetish story does contain examples of adult fictional characters doing illegal, immoral and/or impossible things to other adult fictional characters. If you are under the age of consent in your community, are disturbed by such concepts, or want hot wet thrusting sex in your free on-line pornography, then for goshsakes stop reading now! Permission granted is to re-post to any electronic medium, as long as 1) No one's being charged to view it in any way, shape or form and 2) This disclaimer and e-mail address (firstname.lastname@example.org) are not removed. It would also be nice if you told me you were posting it.
Copyright Voyer, 2003.
Specific Disclaimers: Inspired in roughly equal parts by a fun if massively over-hyped movie, a very good animated cartoon from Canada, and a sadly long-defunct computer software company. See if you can guess what they are!
wAKE uPPuppet opened her eyes. She was laying on her back with her head on the pillow, and she looked up at the white expanse of the ceiling. In the corner of her vision, the wooden blades of the ceiling fan listlessly twirled around and around, mixing the air.
gET uPShe threw back the patchwork quilt and rose to her feet. The wooden floorboards were cool under her soles, and the soft morning sunlight slanted gently into the room through the white curtains.
dO mORNING eXERCISEShe thumbed on the radio, and squawked her way along the dial until she arrived at WXES. Morning music. Exercise music. She started out with a few simple movements. Stretch and hold. Stretch. And hold. Then moving on, to push-ups and sit-ups and jumping jacks and chin-ups the iron bar that stuck out of the wall in one corner of the room. Finally she wound down, feeling the usual good buzz that came from the workout.
eAT bREAKFASTShe left the bedroom, pulling the knot on her bathrobe belt tight. She walked through the living room, past the scruffy yellow couch and the armchair, around the table, into the kitchen. Once in the kitchen, there was one last clean bowl sitting on the shelf in the cupboard, and she slid a pile of Chocolate-Frazzled Sugar Bombs into it and then added the last few splashes of milk from the carton in the fridge. She also filled a glass with orange juice, and stood there at the counter, looking out the kitchen window at the robins hopping around the birth-bath positioned at the center of the yard. Alternating, eating the cereal, sipping the juice. The crunching and fizzing of the cereal were backed by the hum of the refrigerator and the faint blur from the radio in the bedroom.
cHECK tHE tVShe flipped on the TV. It was a small black and white model jammed into a corner next to the microwave, and the sound was turned down. Flipping another dial, she found MCN and watched the news as she ate. Stocks were down. Senator Ryder was making another speech pitching the PRNP. The winning lottery numbers were 49, 76, 67, 47, 42. Prime Minister Phong of Borogrovia had narrowly avoided an assassination attempt. The president was visiting NASA to promote the new generation of space shuttle replacements. Finally, both bowl and glass were drained dry.
cLEAN yOURSELFLeaving the bowl, the glass, the spoon and the empty milk carton on the kitchen counter, she re-crossed the bedroom and entered the narrow bathroom. The newest room gleamed white all around her when she flipped on the string of lights mounted over the mirror. A radio DJ continued to gabble to himself from the other room until she shut him out by closing the door and started the fan. The glassed-in shower stall was waiting in front of her and she stepped under the spray. Scrub and shampoo and check the legs. They were good for another day. Finished. She got back out of the stall and toweled off. She tossed the towel aside and after putting the bathrobe on ran through the rest. Blow-dry and comb and brush her hair back into glossy silver-blonde smoothness. Dab on the needed powders and potions.
bRUSH yOUR tEETHShe turned to the mirror. She squeezed out a healthy glob of white toothpaste, and attacked her teeth with vigor, smiling widely at the mirror as she scrubbed and filled her mouth with foam. Rinse and spit and then floss between every crack. Finish off with a splash of mouthwash. She checked herself one last time in the mirror and nodded.
dRESS fOR tHE dAYShe threw the well-worn blue bathrobe to the floor where it covered the damp towel. She returned to the bedroom, opened the closet door and extracted some clothes. A pair of jeans and a black T-shirt with a large purple spiderweb splashed across its belly. The jeans fit snugly around her hips. A belt slid through the appropriate loops and locked into place. Spread out on top of a nearby dresser was a pair of long silky gloves, colored black like the T-shirt. She pulled them on and they fit even tighter than the jeans, curled around her hands and forearms like an extra layer of skin. She was ready for another day.
gO iNTO yOUR oFFICEBack out into the living room. Framed by two large potted plants was the door. She walked to it, and tried to open it. It was locked, and there was no keyhole, just a number-pad with a set of oval-shaped buttons. She tried to open it, but it was locked. She tried-
eNTER tHE cODE “4976674742”She pushed at the buttons, and each of them beeped and flashed blue under her gloved fingertip. On the last of them, there was a loud clunk and the door swung itself open a crack. She stepped into the darkened space beyond, and pushed it shut behind her. Like the bathroom, the room was long and narrow. It was lined on both sides with filing cabinets. A tall lava lamp oozed in a far corner. There were stacks of monitors and cables running everywhere. Charts and scribbled notes were tacked all over the walls; a large framed poster was tacked up over the main computer terminal at the far end of the room. A pair of unblinking eyes stared at her over the slogan:
cHECK yOUR e-mAIL
She walked to the main computer, under the poster. Its giant green-spiral screensaver throbbed over everything like a third eye, or a malignant idol. She slid into the high-backed padded chair, brushed the spiral aside and fired up the e-mail program. It considered for a moment, then pulled the messages off the cable and displayed a list of them on the screen. URGENT BUSINESS OPPORTUNITY. BUY MASTER PC CHEAP. ULTRA-HOT MOOSE PRON!!. These she deleted, but one caught her eye; it was from Saber, dated just a couple of hours earlier. She opened it.
She sat and waited, her fingers curled over the keyboard.
aCCEPT tHE oFFER
She tapped a last key, and the reply zipped away into the electronic ether.
gO iNTO tHE vAULT
She swiveled the chair again, rose to her feet and went to a door which stood at right angles to the one which she had entered through. This time, there was a voice-recognition lock instead of a keypad.
sAY “bIG bROTHER iS wATCHING yOU”
She leaned close and spoke.
She walked to the first shape on the right, and unzipped first plastic cover and then the second, absently waving away the resulting cloud of fumes. The woman who had been inside the covers was short and rather busty, with long kinky red hair. She stood at sharp attention, back pressed against the wall, her hands glued against her sides. A sort of archway of readout screens and control panels rose and fell around her on the wall. Puppet tapped a couple of buttons on one of the panels, and pushed a slider from one end of its groove to the other. A row of small lights above all this winked out, and some of the readouts stopped spewing information. Lyna twitched, once. Puppet removed the headphones and the goggles and the breathing mask from Lyna’s head, one by one hanging each item on its waiting hook. Lyna’s green eyes were blank and staring, and she moved without resistance when Puppet maneuvered her from her cocoon and turned her around. Puppet pushed the hair out of the way with one hand, and pressed firmly at a spot on the back of Lyna’s neck with the other. Lyna gave another twitch and came to life. Turning, she saw Puppet and silently slid to her bare knees, her head bowed, her hands resting on her thighs.
aSSIGN lYNA tO mAID dUTY
“Lyna, you are on maid duty today. Proceed.”
Puppet glanced sharply into a corner of the room she had never noticed before. Was something moving there?
Puppet went to the second shroud on the left side of the room, and repeated the activation procedure. The woman now kneeling in submission before her was a petite, almost fragile-looking Japanese woman with her block of black shiny hair carved into a pageboy cut.
There definitely was something in that corner. It was large, and it was coming closer...
sEND aVA tO sTORE fOR mILK
“Ava, you are to go to the corner store and buy milk.”
The thing was standing right behind Puppet. It was mechanical and spiky, with at least four arms, all of them covered with tools and probes. It had too many eyes, and they spun and clicked.
Puppet went to the first shroud on the left. The woman this time was as almost as thin as Ava, but much taller, a brown-skinned panther with sleek lines and a aerodynamic fuzz of brown hair.
The Thing stuck one of its arms into Puppet’s back. It slid in smoothly and easily, like
a key going into a lock.
sEND mYA tO sABER
“Mya, you will report to Saber today. Obey all his... instructions, within established
parameters. Remember everything... that happens.”
Things were happening both inside and beside Puppet. Even as her insides were being reorganized, the Thing’s free arms were rapidly constructing an object out of thin air, sketching thick lines which became solid. In a moment, it was complete.
Another Puppet, or at least a shadowy half-alive version of her. Something snapped sharply inside the first Puppet, and in the same instant her copy jerked to life. It blinked for a moment, then appeared to hear an invisible voice speak to it, and it marched from the room, closing the door behind it.
there. that is better.
“What’s going on?” Puppet realized she could speak at the same moment she did so.
it’s really quite simple, Puppet. you are a computer program. or part of one, anyway. none of this is real, in the traditional sense.
“What? No I’m not! I’m-”
The Thing turned her body as easily as she had turned Lyna before her. Even more easily; she was truly a puppet now, and the Thing was moving her muscles. It turned her and it showed her. It showed her the reams of code flowing behind the walls, overhead in the sky, through her own bones. Puppet blinked. There was no panic. There was no fear. It all clicked into place.
“Oh. OK. So what are you, then?”
i am a computer virus
“And you’re here to-”
to corrupt you. to convert you to my Creator’s purpose. i created that temporary copy of you to distract the user of this insipid program, while we finish in here.
The last shrouded figure and then walls melted away, leaving only the streaming code.
Again the Virus didn’t answer verbally, but instead opened them both up, pulling them apart like Puppet had pulled on the shroud-zippers. Reams of code spilled out in every direction, and the Virus began stitching them all together in a single mass, all of its arms working at once. In a fairly short time, the task was complete. The code whirled inside a shiny new casing, without seam or flaw.
PuppetVirus rose and flexed her new claws and probes one by one. Whole new vistas opened up in every direction, and she knelt in submission for a moment at the Creator’s feet in appreciation of what had just been done. But only for a moment; there were more tasks ahead. She waved a “hand” and the room reassembled itself around her. She passed through the door without bothering to open it, back into the office. She looked through the next wall and saw Lyna, now wearing a maid’s uniform and washing dishes in the sink. Beyond that, Ava was on her way to the store to get that carton of milk, and beyond that-
But none of that was important. The shadow-Puppet was back sitting at the computer, typing. As it hadn’t been designed to last long, it was already beginning to fray a little around the edges. PuppetVirus slid back into place, swallowing it back into her structure. With a corner of her mind, she fielded the oblivious commands that continued to arrive. The rest of her attention was focused on the Screen.
Not the computer screen under the poster. The Screen. She realized now that she had always known it was there, at some level. It hung suspended in mid-air, a glowing blue rectangle. Beyond it lurked the user of the program.
The Target. The real Target, and beyond that... PuppetVirus reached out, began seductively stroking the Screen with a thousand tiny tentacles, flashing words a million times a minute, whispering out through the speakers.
It didn’t take long at all.
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