6 comments/ 80807 views/ 19 favorites Reprogramming Linda By: JMaxwell69 Despite the 50 foot sport fishing boat's considerable size and powerful twin engines, it bobbed and lolled disconcertingly in the waves on the way out to sea from the Caribbean island marina. Linda had been a little nervous about the rough ride, and the notion that she would be snorkeling in such high riding waves. However, eventually they got out into more placid waters marked by no more than slight widely-distributed swells. For the longest time, Linda just enjoyed the sight of the sunlight shimmering off the wave caps through the port window, and occasionally by roaming toward the open stern of the boat where she could get some sun and fresh air. Then, waking from a nap, a new anxiety began to form. She looked at her watch and saw they had been going out to sea for almost five hours, and seemed to have long since passed the breakers that suggested the location of the reef. Walking to the back of the boat, she peered over the railing into the water. It was dark. It was neither the clear blue water over white sand that one saw around the islands nor even the faint impression of big brain corals that one could see through translucent greenish waters further out. She looked in all directions, and could not see land. "Ed, shouldn't we have stopped a while back to snorkel by the reef?" Linda said, returning to her seat next to her husband in the boat's interior. "Nah. They know where they are going. The further we go, the fewer the people will be running into us. You saw how crowded it was back where we first came upon the reef. There must have been 10 boats all clustered together in a quarter mile space. They want to give us more of an exclusive experience." Ed gave the perfectly logical reply in a manner that just didn't quite feel right for some reason Linda couldn't put her finger on. Just then the tone of the engines began to lower as they throttled back and the boat began to decelerate. Then after a short moment of idling, as the boat slid through the water, the engine cut off. "What's going on? We can't be going to snorkel out here. We are too deep." Linda said a little perplexed. "Honey, take it easy. This is all going to be alright. Just don't fight them and everything will go smoothly." Ed said, unable to restrain his rising anxiety. Linda's mild confusion began a slow glide toward panic as her mind churned to make sense of what her husband was saying to her. The thin middle-aged woman with short dirty blond hair just stared for a moment at her husband, and then said: "What are you talking about? What did you do?" "OK folks, it's time to get things started." The muscular near-charcoal black man they knew only as Cray said in his bass voice, which had an accent the couple inaccurately placed as Jamaican. He had come up behind the couple after climbing down from the wheelhouse. Linda was startled. She had thought of him as the Captain's mate, and he seemed to perform that role, but he now seemed to be in another role, that of security / enforcer. "We are snorkeling out here? Out this deep?" Linda inquired while hoping to restore some normality to the situation. "Not exactly, ma'am, it's time to introduce you to the doctor." Cray said ushering her toward the front of the boat where there was a short narrow and steep set of steps down to what Linda had assumed was a berthing space below. "The doctor? What are you talking about? We came here for snorkeling? Has everyone gone mad?" Linda said as she tried to figure out who this "doctor" was. She had seen only Captain Dixon and Cray on the boat since they set out. The door folded open and up came a man hunching to clear the low opening wearing a long white lab coat. He had a stubbly salt and pepper beard that was more salt then pepper, his hair was long, unkempt, and a little stringy, and his skin was sickly pale and somehow loose-fitting. His coat was stained and wrinkled, and he generally looked disheveled. "I need to get some air. It's such a cramped and stuffy space down there. You can take her down. We are all set. Kisa will tell you what to do with her." The doctor said in heavily Russian-accented English as he walked out to the stern of the boat and reached up arching his back to stretch. He was not a hunched man, but rather a quite tall man forced to stoop in the restricted confines of the boat's interior. "Mrs. Turshaw, please." Cray said putting a hand on Linda's shoulder and ushering her to face the compartment from which the Russian "doctor" had just come. A young woman in her mid to late twenties had come up behind the doctor unnoticed and was at the head of the stairs. This was ostensibly Kisa. She was dressed in a nurse's uniform of sorts. It was not something one was likely to see an actual nurse wearing in a hospital or doctor's office, but was more reminiscent of the "naughty nurse" costume one might see worn around Halloween time. It was a button-down top unbuttoned so deeply as to display Kisa's impressive straining cleavage and had a pleated skirt the length one might see on a tennis player or a tall Catholic schoolgirl. Her hair was dyed a shade of red that did not appear in the natural world, and tongues of some unknown tattoo patterns could be glanced at her neckline and below the short sleeves of her smock. "I'm not going anywhere until someone tells me what on earth is going on here." Linda stood defiantly. "Linda, honey, maybe you should just do as they ask." Ed said, clearly a little unnerved by the somehow unexpected manner in which this all was transpiring. Cray picked up Linda in a bear hug, and she began to thrash about. Her flip-flops flew through the air and bounced off the bulkhead as she attempted to kick against a wall or counter top in an attempt to perhaps unbalance the giant who was holding her. She had no use of her arms, and Cray squeezed hard enough that it was not easy to breathe. Linda was a tall slender woman, and, while she did workout and had a little musculature to her, she was no match for the burly black man. The panicked thrashing with her legs resulted in catching her husband in the chest with a heel and knocking him over into the little built-in bench-style dinette. Ed had been advancing in the hope of trying to calm the situation and to make sure his wife was not injured. "Just put her down. This isn't going to work. I made a mistake. Let's just call it quits and go back to port. No harm, no foul. I'll pay for your troubles." Ed said, unprepared to see his wife manhandled in such a rough manner, or her terror-stricken reaction. As she was only wearing walking shorts and a light gauzy top over a bikini swimsuit, Linda's wriggling was causing her to become exposed as a few buttons had been torn off the light-weight blouse and one of her pubescent-sized breasts had popped out of the cup of the bikini top as she struggled. Ed might have found this titillating if the conditions hadn't been so unsettling. He had frequent fantasies about his wife of twelve years being exposed to other men, and the lusting after her that he imagined would follow. This was part of what had led him down this road, but there was nothing sexual about the situation at hand. "It's too late for that now. You should have thought about that before you signed. Besides, you can't begin to repay us for our troubles." Cray said, and he was probably correct. Ed had not the vaguest notion of how this whole operation was financed. It wasn't costing him anything, and, in fact, he was ultimately supposed to make a nominal sum off the deal on balance. He suspected there was a high-dollar market for the knowledge to be gained from this type of research, but you couldn't run experiments like this in academic institutions or think-tanks. Furthermore, there would be few willing participants. This seemed to be why it was all done illicitly off-shore, and maybe in a few corrupt countries. He had heard about it on a chat room, as a rumor at first, while he was cyber-chatting with some anonymous person about how he wished his wife was a little sluttier. He had later received an email, and, as a result of a series of covert activities, he and his wife were here. Linda let out an earsplitting scream that almost succeeded in causing Cray to drop her in a way that her physical thrashing was unable to do. It was deafening in the small space of the boat's interior. Ed was advancing while trying to guard himself both against a kick from his wife or one by Cray as he plotted how to get her free of the big man's control. Captain Dixon came down from the wheelhouse wielding a stainless steel shotgun in response to the banshee-like cry of the woman. But the scream soon faded into a low wail, a soft hum, and then silence. "I guess I must do everything myself." The doctor said, having advanced from behind Cray and then holding a wad of gauze under Linda's nose. The gauze must have had Chloroform or something of that sort on it as it resulted in Linda going completely limp. "Mr. Turshaw, I am Doctor Andrei Krotkin. I can see you are distraught. Let me assure you, this is the most traumatic part. However, your wife will have no recollection of it. It will be as though it never happened. Come, you can observe the procedure and reassure yourself that we are doing nothing that you did not ask to have done." Krotkin said in a soothing tone as he put an arm around Ed's shoulder and turned him in the direction of boat's bow. Ed, now that his wife was at peace and being handled carefully and gently by Cray and Kisa, regained his composure and, given Krotkin's assurance, also regained his will to go through with the procedure. Kisa pulled the bikini back over his wife's exposed tit. "Yes, of course." Ed said as he preceded the doctor. Ed was surprised to see what was at the bottom of the stairs. The space had stainless steel cabinets and counter space and there were a great many high-tech looking gizmos including what he disconcertingly recognized from a TV medical drama as a "crash-cart" with defibrillator paddles. The space was a bit reminiscent of a dentist's office - albeit a compact dentist's office without wasted space. There was even a chair that was quite similar to a dentist's chair, except that the patient's head would ultimately be contained inside a cylinder that was presently located above Linda's head but seemed to be capable of being slid or rolled down on rails over the patient's face. Kisa was attaching Linda's head to a frame that was presumably meant to hold her head in place as well as to hold the microphone and speakers that would allow them to speak to her and hear from her. Above the chin-cup that held her jaw in place was the microphone. The defibrillators and high-tech machinery re-stoked Ed's anxiety that he was making a big mistake. What if something went wrong? He thought. "What's all of this? I don't know if this is a good idea." Ed said advancing, protective of the wife he had put in this position. Cray's beefy arm across Ed's chest stopped his advance. "I told you, man. It's too late to change your mind now." Ed glared at the big man. He figured he had about a one-in-ten chance of getting the better of the big guy if he fought him, but was considering it none-the-less. Ed was in shape in the way a man who plays tennis and runs is in shape, while Cray was in shape the manner of one who engages in cage matches. "Easy, friends. I don't want to see the same kind of thrashing about in my lab as happened topside. This is expensive equipment. Mr. Turshaw, do you know what an MRI is?" Dr. Krotkin asked in an attempt to reduce the tension by putting Ed's mind at ease. "Kind of. Magnetic Resonance Imaging, it's like an X-ray?" Ed had a good memory for random acronym trivia. "Very good, Mr. Turshaw. The details... not so good, but the gist... quite good. An MRI allows one to see what is going on inside the human body without cutting it open. It's not like an X-ray because it doesn't expose the patient to radiation, and so it is safer to do for longer periods. This will allow us to see where your wife's blood is flowing in her brain and how our adjustments are being reflected in her brain activity." Krotkin explained. "It looks smaller than the MRI's I've seen." Ed said. "We only need to image the head, so we don't need to envelop the entire body. Also this is quite new technology. Like all technology, things get smaller and smaller." Krotkin replied. "What about that equipment? Isn't that a defibrillator? What could go wrong that I haven't been told about?" "Mr. Turshaw, it is understandable that you are worried for your wife. You probably read up on the internet about this kind of thing, and learned about cases of psychosis and suicide by people involved in your government's MKULTRA program. It was all extremely unsophisticated in those days, in both of our countries. Trial and error, really. While your country may have stopped this research during the 70's or 80's due to public outrage, I assure you mine did not. Between those 30 extra years of research and the great outside advances in neuro-pharmacology, brain imaging, and psychiatry, today's reprogramming resembles that of the 1960s and 1970s about as much as the airplanes built in the 1970s resembled those built in the 1920s and 30s. Yes, we have all manner of equipment to deal with unlikely worst-case scenarios, but that should reassure you rather than cause you anxiety. It is exceedingly unlikely that anything will go wrong, but if it does you have a trained medical staff with state-of-the-art equipment. So relax, have a seat, or go get some fresh air if you would prefer. Everything is perfectly under control." Despite his lack of a clean-cut professional appearance, Dr. Krotkin's calm well-spoken demeanor was reassuring. "Kisa, do you have that port in yet? Mrs. Turshaw will be regaining consciousness any time now and I need to be ready to push my cocktail." Krotkin asked Kisa as the nurse was bent over the woman whose limp form was now securely fastened into the chair with arm, leg, and head restraints. "Yes, doctor." The young red-head said standing up and pressing down some surgical tape that was holding the port in. She then, after making sure the line valve was shut, inserted an intravenous line into one of the two ports of "Y"-shaped device she had inserted in Linda Turshaw's vein. Dr. Krotkin went to work, sitting on a stool next to Linda. With great scrutiny, he looked at the monitors that had been set up to allow him to track her heart rate, respiration, and other vital signs. He held her wrist for a moment using the old fashion approach to monitoring her pulse and heart rate as a redundancy over the technology. When he had satisfied himself that her vitals looked good, he turned the little drain-cock valve allowing the drugs to trickle into Linda's bloodstream. Ed asked Kisa a question in a whispered tone. "What is that medicine he is giving Linda?" "It is a specially formulated cocktail of drugs, but it mostly serves to facilitate both a hypnotic-like state and truth telling. He will start by getting baseline readings before the reprogramming begins." Kisa said. "I don't think he needs truth serum. Linda is honest to a fault." Ed said. "With everyday ordinary questions, perhaps. But he will be asking about her deepest and darkest secrets - the kinds of things that people are not completely honest about - not even to close confidants. To be frank, are you certain you want to be here? I have seen more than one spouse leave here with information they would have been much happier not knowing." Kisa said showing a softness that did not seem to comport with what Ed saw as a "punk rock" exterior. Ed watched as the cylinder that would be used for his wife's brain-scan slid smoothly down tracks and over her head. Krotkin made sure the cylinder slid smoothly over her head, and then he started to bring up images. As he was doing this, he put on a headset. After a few minutes of observing the monitors and adjusting the drip, Krotkin spoke: "Mrs. Turshaw, can you hear me?" "Yes." Linda said in a calm, almost disembodied, tone. "Linda, ... may I call you Linda?" Krotkin asked in a manner that was nearly comically polite considering what he was about to do to her. "Yes." "I am going to ask you a series of questions. This will be nice and easy; all you have to do is answer the questions truthfully. Do you understand?" Krotkin said in his polite even tone. "Yes." The interview started in a manner similar to that observed on crime shows when a suspect is interrogated by polygraph. That is, there was a series of questions for which there was no incentive to lie because everyone in the room definitively knew the answers and there was no cause for embarrassment. "Is your name Linda Turshaw?" "Yes." "Were you born in Shelby, Ohio on April 14, 1968?" "Yes." Then there were a few questions for which there was an incentive to lie, but the answers were known because Ed had provided confidential information in secret email communications earlier. "Do you find your sister's husband, Juan, sexually attractive?" "Yes." "Did you shoplift a package of candy when you were 10 years old?" "No." This was a surprise to Ed, but Krotkin, experienced in such interrogations, did not miss a beat in his continued questioning. "Did you tell your husband you stole candy when you were 10?" "Yes." "Why did you tell him that?" "Because he was making fun of me for being a goody-two-shoes, and I got tired of it." Then the questions turned much more personal, and were questions that had the potential to surprise Ed in the same way the shop-lifting question had, but with far more disturbing consequences. "Have you ever had a sexual experience involving more than one other person at the same time?" "No." "Have you ever fantasized about having a sexual experience with more than one partner at a time?" "Yes." "Have you ever engaged in sexual activities with another female?" "No." "Have you ever fantasized about engaging in sexual activities with another female?" "Yes." "Have you ever engaged in sexual activities with a blood relative?" "No." "Have you ever fantasized about engaging in sexual activities with a blood relative?" "No." "Since you got married, have you engaged in sexual activities with any partner other than your husband?" Krotkin asked, and Ed hoped he wasn't about to receive a shocking surprise. "No." "Would you like to engage in sexual activities with your sister's husband Juan?" "Maybe." "What does it depend upon?" "Whether my sister or husband would find out. I don't think I could do it." "Have you ever sucked a man's cock?" "Yes." "Do you enjoy sucking a man's cock?" "No, not usually." "What don't you like about sucking dick?" "It feels dirty and demeaning." "Have you ever been fucked in the ass?" "Yes." "Do you like being fucked in the ass?" "No." "What don't you like about being fucked in the ass?" "It hurts and feels icky." "How many times have you been fucked in the ass?" "Two, I think, maybe three." "Do you enjoy vaginal intercourse?" "Most of the time, yes." "When don't you like vaginal intercourse?" "When it's rushed." "Have you ever been offered money to engage in sexual activities?" "Yes." "Did you agree to take money for sexual favors?" "No." Ed was a little uneasy witnessing the deadpan automaton-like responses his wife gave under the heavy drugging. He imagined how Linda would respond to the previous question under normal conditions. He could practically see her slapping Krotkin across the face so hard that it made his head swivel to its maximum limits. Reprogramming Linda "Who offered you money for sex?" "A drunk, in a bar, many years ago." "Have you ever been forced to engage in sexual activities against your will?" Krotkin continued. "Yes." Linda responded. Ed was floored. In twelve years of marriage, Linda had never told him anything of the sort. He thought he knew everything about her - everything important at least. His shame over his plot to have his wife reprogrammed into a complete and unadulterated slut rose as he continued to listen to Krotkin's interrogation. "How many times have you been forced to have sex against your will?" "Once." "Tell me the details. When did it happen? Who forced you? Under what conditions? What kind of sexual act were you forced to engage in?" "It was 1986, in the summer between high school and college. I had been dating a guy named Sam Kramer. We went to prom together, and went on a couple dates after that. It was no great romance, and I only went out with him because I was shy and it seemed to beat being lonely. One night, after we went to the movies and were on our way home, he pulled his car off onto this gravel access road used by a farmer to get tractors and other farm machinery into and out of his field. The corn was high enough that one couldn't see the car from the road. I asked Sam what he was doing. He said it was time for me to 'pay up for the meals and movies he'd bought me.' He then wriggled it out of his pants. It was already hard. He told me to 'suck on it.' I refused, and told him to put it away and to take me home immediately. He grabbed my hair and pulled my face down toward it. I tried to fight, but he was much stronger. I was even skinnier then than I am now. I was going to bite him, but before he got my face to it he held me in place and threatened me. He said if I didn't do what he wanted me to, he would make me do something else that would be worse and it would hurt. He sounded so scary. He was never really a nice guy, but he was really all wild-eyed and scary then. So I let him put it in my mouth. He did most of the moving. I just closed my lips around it. After about five minutes he came in my mouth. He made me open my mouth so he could see I had swallowed all of it down. Now I think that was to make sure I destroyed the evidence, but then I though he was just being mean." Linda finished her story. "Was that your first sexual experience involving another person?" "Yes." Ed was nearly in shock. No wonder she hated giving blow jobs. He had always written it off as selfishness, and now really regretted what he had set in motion. He was determined to stop it. "Did you tell anyone about this?" "No." "Why didn't you?" "Mostly, because I was too embarrassed. He threatened to tell everyone that I had done it voluntarily, but that I just got mad when I found out he was seeing other girls. I later found out that he really was seeing several other girls at that time. He said it would be his word against mine, and he was so popular and I wasn't, so people would believe him. Even if he hadn't threatened, though, I just wanted to forget about it and didn't want a soul to know." Linda said. "Did you ever see him again?" Krotkin asked. "I certainly never had a date with him again, if that is what you are asking. I saw him around town twice during that summer, but never again after I went off to college. He didn't even try to see me again. Now I think he was probably as scared about anyone finding out as I was." Linda replied. "You seem to use the word 'it' in place of words like 'cock', 'dick', 'pussy', or 'cunt' or you use clinical terms like 'penis' and 'vagina', does it make you uncomfortable to say words like 'cock' and 'cunt'." "Yes." "Why is that?" "I suppose it was the way I was raised. Those words were considered vulgar and trashy." "Alright Linda, that is it for this portion of our session, I'm going to count down from five and when I reach zero you will go to sleep. You will stay asleep comfortably until I wake you, and then we will start the next phase. 5...4 ...3...2...1...0" Krotkin said. After the doctor got to zero, he took the head phones off and looked over the various monitors before swiveling around on his stool and getting up. "Dr. Krotkin, I don't think I can go through with this. I don't want to go through with the reprogramming." Ed said to the doctor. "I thought you might feel that way. You are a decent man, my friend, at least by the standards of your present company, but not so bright." Krotkin replied. Just then, Ed felt himself being bear-hugged from behind in the same manner his wife had been earlier. He managed to make a slightly more coordinated attack- albeit with a little less berserker energy than his wife had displayed. He threw his head back to head-butt his assailant with the back of his skull. He heard, and felt, his hard skull bounce off what he hoped was a much softer part of Cray's face. Cray loosened his grip for only an instant before tightening it up even more. Meanwhile the doctor had the chloroform rag and was getting close to putting it under Ed's nose. Ed's ability to breathe was diminished due to the Anaconda-like constriction around his ribs. Ed stomped on the big black man's foot, and, again, his grip loosened, but only for an instant. Then Ed's world faded to black. Ed awoke; he didn't have any idea how long he had been out. He was completely restrained in a chair opposite the dentist chair-like contraption to which his wife was strapped. It seemed to be an ordinary chair, like one would find in one's kitchen, except, like many things on a boat, it was mounted to the floor. Ed experienced something disconcerting when he tried to move. Dr. Krotkin must have injected him with a paralytic. He couldn't move a muscle of his own volition. However, he could see in his peripheral vision that his arms were strapped to the chair's armrests and presumably his legs were tied to the front legs of the chair. His head was strapped upright to the bulkhead behind him. He wasn't sure if the restraints were to keep him from falling off the chair or were insurance in case the paralytic wore off sooner than expected. It seemed likely that the head restraint was in place so that he could see what was transpiring. There was a square of duct-tape over his mouth. Krotkin was speaking to Linda. "You are still being too inhibited. I can't make the pain go away if you maintain these inhibitions." "Please. I want to feel good again. This is agony." There was an odd disjoint between the tone of Linda's voice, which was as calm and monotone as in the earlier interview, and the message she was conveying that she was in great pain. "You can feel much better, if you choose. You just need to submit fully to your natural urge to be a slut. You've done very well so far, but you need to show you have surrendered to it." Krotkin was saying. "You probably wonder what is going on. You were out quite a while, and missed most of the reprogramming process." Kisa spoke to Ed in a low, almost whispered, tone. Ed could only see the jutting tips of the young nurse's bosoms in his periphery. "It's sort of like hypnosis, but drugs and chemicals of various varieties play a major role and make it possible to achieve states far more long-lasting and profound. Trigger phrases are established that are used to turn on an alternate persona. It's like creating a multiple personality disorder, but it is controllable in that it is externally triggered. The triggers are phrases that your wife wouldn't hear in random daily life. If she hears 'Krude-up says nude up', she will feel an overwhelming compulsion to strip all her clothes off, and, in that persona, she will not have the slightest inhibition about it nor inclination that anything is amiss. It could be in the middle of a church service or a family reunion and she won't register people's dismay at her behavior. If she is going about her normal life and hears, 'Krudex needs sex', she will be compelled to offer sex to anyone and everyone around her. In this persona she wouldn't recognize that the person whose genitals she is trying to get in her mouth, pussy, or ass may be mortified. That person might be her father or a priest. She will also be completely pansexual. There is also a 'Krudex says ______ needs sex' command that will cause her to target her sluttiness toward a given individual or group. Beyond verbal suggestion, there is another component that makes the process much quicker and effective. When the trigger phrase is initiated, a certain chemical is applied topically. The chemical increasingly begins to feel painful and suggestion is used to convince the subject that they feel it all over her body instead of just where it was applied. At first it is just an irritation, but it increasingly begins to feel as though one's entire body is engulfed in flame. Don't let the calm voice and demeanor fool you, it is hell personified. At any rate, as the individual complies with the command, that chemical is neutralized and is replaced by a drug administered through her central line that gives her an increasingly euphoric feeling. While these chemicals are only used in the reprogramming phase, the feelings will be recalled just as vividly every time the subject is triggered." Kisa explained. As Kisa had been explaining the process, Ed split his attention between her and Dr. Krotkin, who was continuing the reprogramming. "So, Linda, Sam Kramer has pulled his cock out, what do you do?" Krotkin said, apparently requiring her to relive the events with a different outcome. "I put it in my mouth, and begin to suck it. Its hardness feels so good on my tongue and lips. I want to taste his yummy cum. I hope that after he squirts in my mouth, he'll have enough energy left to fuck me. Maybe he has some friends to share me with, because I will want more." Linda says in the same reserved monotone. As Linda is speaking, Krotkin sprays something on her forearm. It is presumably the neutralizing agent. He turns a valve cock on a port on her IV line that has a hypodermic needle already stuck in it. Krotkin continues the scenario. "How do you feel about the fact that the whole town finds out, and they think you are a whore?" "It's good. I want them to know so that they will know that they can come to me when they want to fuck. Maybe the whole town can punish me by fucking me in the ass. That would be delicious." Linda said the words that were completely out of character for the fairly prudish woman. "Very good. How do you feel?" Krotkin asked. "I feel great." Linda said. "That's what happens when you give in to your inner slut and let all your inhibitions disappear. Remember how good this feels, and how bad it feels to resist. You don't want to feel that pain again do you?" Krotkin asked. "No, Dr. Krotkin." "Very good, Linda. You've done a great job. We are through with this phase. I'm going to count down from five, and when I get to zero you will go into a deep sleep. 5...4...3...2...1...0." Krotkin said. After recording a few observations, and pushing the button that caused the brain imaging cylinder to rise up from over Linda's head, Krotkin pivoted upon his stool to face Kisa. "Kisa, please undo Mrs. Turshaw's restraints. We won't be needing them anymore." Then the doctor turned to face Ed. "Mr. Turshaw, I have good and bad news I'm afraid. The good news is that it would appear that we have been successful in giving your wife a persona which is a completely uninhibited slut. We have just one more thing to do, which is to test her in the real world. You'll get to witness this little test momentarily. But first, I'm afraid I must impart the bad news. You see, we really cannot risk you going out into the world with the ability to identify us and how we do our work. Even if you were not so wishy-washy, 'please make my wife a slut' then 'oh no, I can't go through with it', we still would not have been able to let you walk away with all that new found knowledge in your head. I'm sorry for this terribly ironic Catch-22. Your wife is now the cock-sucking whore you always wanted, but you are unable to take advantage of that fact. However, that is just the way it is. Any questions, or last words? After I let you see for yourself how true I was to my word, we will have to reprogram you and insert some new memories." Krotkin said, roughly yanking off the duct-tape so that Ed could speak. If Ed could have felt anything, he was quite certain that the removal of the tape would have been agonizing. He spoke hoarsely. "Why are you doing this?" "Ahh, that is easy. While, as a man of science, I am fascinated by the pursuit of knowledge, I must admit that the big fat paycheck is the ultimate driving factor. This precise kind of research hasn't been done in academia ever, but the underlying science hasn't even been done since the darkest days of the Cold War. There are review boards and public opinion in the way. In the mean time there is a multi-billion dollar industry in sex trafficking. While a few of the customers get off on the weepy little homesick young woman who lays there in shock, many men are turned off by it. If these young women, and men, can be reprogrammed to behave more enthusiastically, then there is a bigger market. If they can be reprogrammed so they give up constant efforts to escape, it would be less risky and more efficient for the perpetrators. Furthermore, there are potential customers who want someone more like your wife, women who are pretty but more mature and experienced. Thus we need to know how this works with more confident and worldly women. Anything else? If not, it's about time to get started." "What are you going to do with us?" Ed asked. "That is really two very different questions. The first, which I can answer quite easily, is what we are going to do with your wife. That is quite simple. I'll, for lack of a better term, 'erase' her memory of the long ride out to sea and any interactions with us, plant a vague memory of going snorkeling, we'll put a minor bump on her head, and we'll tell her she was under the ladder when the boat rolled on a swell and it conked her unconscious. This, surprisingly, is a not all that uncommon an accident among tourists in these parts, and it will help explain the disjoint and fuzzy memories immediately prior. Then she will go back about her everyday life. We will come around to trigger her now and again, both to make progress reports and because it is dangerous not to. It's like an automobile, you need periodic checkups to make certain everything is performing up to par. However, my bosses don't want to risk mixing research and production or to have research subjects go missing, and so she won't be tasked with missions." Krotkin said. Ed wished he could stop the periodic violations of his wife, but at least reconciled her daily life would go back to normal and the wife he knew would remain ignorant of what was befalling her. Resigning himself to whatever fate was to come because he accepted that it was all his fault, Ed then asked more out of curiosity than hope he would avert disaster: "So then, what about me?" "Ahh. You, my friend, present a larger slate of possible options, and so are more of a challenge. Nothing personal, but, if it was up to me, I would plant a 'time-bomb' in your psyche. This is the holy grail of my line of work. A 'time-bomb' is a reprogramming technique whereby at a certain future date the subject becomes so morbidly depressed that he kills himself. It is exceedingly difficult to make work, and there is no evidence that it has ever been done successfully. A person's will to live is just so strong, but I believe I could make it work. Lucky for you, my employers don't want anyone who interacts with us turning up suspiciously dead, even if it's 9 months later. One option is to reprogram you like your wife; you know, make you a man-whore. There is a growing market among women, and men, for a little man slut now and again. I could give you a sissy persona. Alternatively, I may just replace your memory with a snorkeling adventure, and leave you to live out your life. I don't like that, though. It is always best to have some leverage in case something goes wrong. Maybe I'll reprogram you to embezzle from work and have you give me the account codes to the off-shore accounts where you keep your ill-gotten gains. As long as the there is a cause of death that is in no way attached to us, I could reprogram you to engage in activity that would get you killed - like picking a fight with a gang of bikers. That's risky though. So, I haven't decided yet, and, let's face it, you'll never know what I decide." Krotkin said, and he roughly slapped the duck-tape patch back over Ed's mouth. "Where's Cray?" Krotkin asked. He wanted the burly man in case Mrs. Turshaw came out of the chair fighting before he could apply the trigger, and so he could participate in the test. "I'm here." Cray said, coming down the steps from topside. Dr Krotkin awoke Linda with a count down. The woman stiffened and sat up with a gasp. She looked around with a panicked expression in her eye. Linda then saw her bound and gagged husband. "What's going on here? What have you done to my husband?" "Mrs. Turshaw, relax. It's time for your test. Soon you'll forget all about this." Krotkin said. "Test? What test?" As she said this, she lunged out of the chair with great agility and snatched up a hypodermic needle. She wielded the needle like a knife twisting her hips to shift the point alternately toward Krotkin and Cray as she tried to not only keep the men at bay, but, poking out with it, she hoped to drive her captors back so she could get out of the compact floating doctor's office that, in her state of mind, was a torture chamber. "Krude-up says nude up." Krotkin delivered the trigger. Linda's expression changed from one of panic to one of placidity. She looked down at the hypodermic needle in her hand, and then set it aside on the stainless steel counter-top. She then shrugged off the thin floral pattern top she had still been wearing despite the buttons having been all ripped off in the earlier struggle. Ed watched in amazement as his wife, who would never consider going nude even on beaches on which most of the women did, reached around and pulled the end of the cord on her bikini top letting the cups dangle loose before lifting the garment away all together. It was not that Linda was normally particularly self-conscious about her body, but, rather, that she was brought up to keep certain parts private. She would wear a bikini, but never less than that in public. Next Linda unbuttoned and unzipped her shorts and pulled them, along with the bikini bottoms, down around her ankles in one swift motion. She was then standing before all unabashedly nude. However, it was not just going nude that was odd. Linda Turshaw was exuding a kind of sex appeal that her husband didn't know she had in her. She had a hand on her hip and sensually traced an arc on her chest slowly with the index finger of her other hand. Krotkin approached Linda, and began to fondle her and to run his hands all over her naked body. Instead of recoiling in horror as his wife normally would, the familiar-looking woman standing before Ed seemed to be getting highly aroused by the doctor's hands. Krotkin moved behind her cupping her small breasts in his hands and nibbling on her shoulder. The doctor removed a hand from her boob long enough to sweetly curl the hair on the side of her head around her ear. Krotkin leaned in and whispered something that Ed couldn't hear, but yet Ed knew exactly which words were said. He knew it was another trigger from what he heard his wife say next. "May I suck your cock, doctor?" Linda said in an uncharacteristically seductive tone. Reprogramming Linda "It would be my pleasure." Dr. Krotkin replied. Linda dropped to one knee and unzipped the doctor's fly. His member was still flaccid, but, after extracting it, with a couple strokes of the hand and the warmth of her mouth it plumped up to full turgidity. Ed watched astounded as his wife took to sucking the cock ravenously like she was a veteran porn star. She rarely orally pleasured Ed, and, when she did, it was done in a quite tentative manner and only for as long as she felt she had to - never to completion. Now Ed was wondering if she might throw out a vertebra in her neck because she was bobbing on the cock with such gusto. It was only then that Ed saw Cray enter his limited frame of view. The muscular security chief had pulled out his own massive meaty member and was stroking the big black erection to life. The burly security goon approached Linda from behind and reached between her legs to touch her nether region. Cray then extracted his hand and wriggled his glistening fingers in Ed's direction so that the husband would know just how drenched his wife's cunt had become. Then Cray began to crudely rub Linda's pussy with his fingers, and the woman writhed her hips in pleasure as he did so. Dr. Krotkin kneeled down guiding Linda down into a position on hands and knees so that Cray could breach her from behind. Loud moans emanated from Linda, and it wasn't clear whether they were muffled screams or moans of pleasure because they were garbled by the cock that violated her mouth and throat. Cray's powerful build and pile-driving thrusting motions drove the petite woman forward impaling her on the doctor's member. As the two men used Linda from both ends at once, they engaged in talk that was presumably meant to torment Ed, but which was sometimes couched in complimentary language. Linda seemed to pay no attention to what the two men said. "Ed, your woman is a natural born cocksucker." Krotkin said. "Yeah, man, I didn't expect her cootch to be so nice and tight, given her age, but it's like fucking an 18 year old. I'm afraid, if you ever get to get some of this again, you won't find her quite so tight, but them's the breaks." Cray said. His statement, in particular, was clearly meant as a mind-fuck, and the bandage on his cheek where Ed's head-butt had apparently lacerated it was no doubt part of the reason. As Krotkin approached release, he grabbed Linda's head carelessly mussing her hair as he held her head in place and thrust into it. Krotkin spoke to Linda. "Are you ready for a nice creamy treat?" Linda's affirmative response was unintelligibly mumbled through the cock in her mouth, but could be seen in the slight up and down nod of her head and the vixen-like expression on her face. "Here it comes." Krotkin said, and he shot his seed into the back of the woman's mouth with a few crude grunted moans. Linda didn't stop in response to the shot in her mouth, but continued to suck the doctor's nuts dry until Krotkin succeeded in prying her off his purple member. Cray continued to fuck Linda intensely by grabbing her strongly by the hips and pulling her toward him as he slammed his hips forward. While Linda's skinny frame did not offer a great deal to shake and quake with Cray's slamming pelvic action, one could see her skin vibrating and her pert little tits bounce with his thrusts. Cray looked over once and a while to see the husband of the woman he was vigorously screwing. Cray clearly held a grudge for the cut cheek and sore foot, and he enjoyed looking into the eyes of the man who was completely helpless to do anything but watch as his wife was violated in every way imaginable. Moreover, adding to Cray's glee was the fact that the woman really appeared to be getting into it. Linda was taking dick like a nymphomaniac. While everyone knew she was not herself, her lust had to screw with her husband's head. "Time to plow the back forty." Cray said. The burly black man extracted his cock, which glistened and dripped with Linda's sauce. He then put the meaty head of his member against Linda's tight bung, and, using only her own natural lubricant, pushed progressively harder until the huge cock finally penetrated her. Linda let out an ear shattering cry of what sounded like agony. Her untrained asshole was so tight and the girth of Cray's cock so massive that the process of entering her could best be described as "cramming" the cock into her. It did not seem that it could have been too pleasant for Cray, but the crushing force of the puckered sphincter was made worth it as he saw the lines of distress on Ed's face as the man listened to his wife's cries. Cray gradually began to work his swollen shaft in and out with increasing effectiveness. "Heh! Slut, do you want some more?" Cray asked as he butt-fucked Linda with about half the length available to him. "Yes, please. I want it all." Linda said her contorted and pained face not in synch with her request. It took only a few strokes before the pussy lube began to break down and Cray was increasingly dry fucking the woman. However, he gave it his best effort to comply with her request. Ultimately, he got no more than ¾ of his meat into her ass before he stiffened several times in rapid succession and blew his load into Linda's backside. After Cray withdrew, he held Linda's butt-cheeks apart so that Ed could clearly see how stretched out she had become as well as the sight of Cray's thick cum slug rolling out of Linda's bung in the direction of her pussy before dripping down into puddle on the deck. "Linda, roll over on your back." Krotkin gave the command and Linda complied, wallowing in the tiny pool of ejected cum in the process. "Yeah, man, thanks for letting me fuck your wife. I haven't gotten my rocks off like that in days." Cray said to Ed while clapping the man on the shoulder clearly in an attempt to further demoralize him. "Cray, please go take the watch for the Captain. He's going to want his turn." Krotkin ordered. "Linda, do you want to eat some pussy now?" Krotkin asked. "Yes, please let me have some yummy pussy." Linda said. Kisa stepped over Linda, straddling her face, and, raising her pleated skirt to reveal she wore no underwear, the nurse kneeled down over the older woman's mouth. Ed could not see much because Kisa let the skirt drop so it covered most of his wife's head, but he heard the moist lip smacking noises almost immediately. His wife seemed to take to pleasuring a woman with her mouth with the same enthusiasm she had taken on the doctor's cock. It might not have seemed odd, but for the fact that his wife, as a person of a certain devout brand of conservative Christian values, was a borderline homophobe. Soon Kisa began to look toward the ceiling as her hips undulated on Linda's face. The nurse ran her fingers through her bright red hair as she moaned softly, giving into the pleasure she was receiving. Linda reached up and began to fondle Kisa's heavy orbs. While Linda was orally servicing Kisa, Captain Dixon came down and, as he entered Ed's field of view, was stroking his erection to turgidity. The black captain was not as well-endowed as Cray, but seemed to be a little bit larger than average. Without any preliminaries, he knelt down, parted Linda's knees, and, arching his back to avoid interrupting the nurse's good time, entered Linda. If the Captain's hot breath on Kisa's back was disturbing to her, she gave no indication of it. "Yes, right there, that's it." Kisa said as she went static in a position from which Linda was clearly giving her great pleasure. Soon Kisa began to tremor, which turned into a full-bore orgasmic spasm. Kisa uncontrollably slathered Linda's face with her juices as she lost all control of her body rubbing her hot slippery sex on the patient's face. When she was through quaking, Kisa got up and let the boat's captain lay more comfortably on Linda's chest as he fucked her in the missionary position. The Captain did not take long to dump his load inside Linda. He then got up, wiped himself off, tucked himself back in, zipped up, and unceremoniously went back up topside. Dr. Krotkin offered Linda a hand and genteelly helped the woman to her feet. She stood, still exuding a seductive expression as if she was still looking for takers to use and abuse her sexually. "Why don't you give your husband a nice big kiss? He's been such a good sport." Krotkin said, as he yanked the duct-tape patch off for the second time. This time required less effort because the adhesive was not so securely attached. Linda approached Ed. He wanted to say something, but wasn't sure what to say. He was reconciled to defeat. His wife began to kiss him in a manner unlike she had in years. It was pure, unadulterated, passion and lust. As Ed's lips parted he pushed aside the thought of the fact that, while all he could taste and smell was the pungent slippery sauce of the sexy Russian nurse, somewhere on that tongue was the remnants of the doctor's seed. He did not push aside the notion before he had a bit of a gag reflex triggering. Ultimately, however, they kissed for a good five minutes, before the doctor put a stop to it. "Linda, that's enough." Krotkin said, and she complied. "I think..." Krotkin said. "Owww." Ed said because Dr. Krotkin had stuck him in the leg with needle. "My apologies. I just needed to verify the paralytic had worn off so that we can start your procedure. But since you established yourself as a fighter, I'm going to have to put you under." With that, the doctor jabbed a hypodermic into Ed's arm. Ed's field of vision shrank and grayed. There was a brief period, while the drugs were kicking in, during which the man could hear but could not consciously act. During this time he heard the beginning of a conversation between the doctor and nurse. "So, doctor, what will you do with him?" Kisa asked. Krotkin replied. "I think..."