The CEO’s Daughter
Chapter 3
“Oh my god, that was so fucking hot Jason” whispered Mike to me as I worked on a server in our server room. “She had no idea I was there, and she just decided to get herself off in her office, with me standing right there. I watched the whole thing. She wasn’t able to either, that part is working too. I ended up cumming, and she didn’t notice either. Don’t worry, I didn’t make a mess,” grinned my husband, looking even more adorable than normal with his stupid grin.
“Ok, that’s great Mike, but I do have to get some work done,” I said, trying not to get too drawn in “anyway, I think,” I said before my phone alerted me. I pulled it out, and saw that Ashley had messaged her mom that she wasn’t feeling well, and that she was going home sick. “Hmmm, is this a problem if you’re not going to be able to monitor her? She’s going home sick.”
Mike thought for a second. “I think we have bigger problems. Right now, she’s single, right? And she’s very horny and confused and just left work mid-morning. I’m pretty sure she’s going to go trawling for some guy at a dive bar just to get laid. It’s what I would do in her situation,” said Mike, looking worried.
“Why’s that a problem?” I asked.
“Because it introduces new complications. Because you were right before that it means that we can’t monitor her very well. Because if we do want to fuck her, I don’t even want to think of the kinds of STIs she might pick up in her current state. And because while she’s a terrible person, she could easily be putting her into a situation that even she doesn’t deserve,” said Mike, looking more and more upset.
“So what do we do?” I asked. “Remove the programming?”
“I’m not sure we could in time, and besides, that doesn’t fix the original problem and at the state she’d be left in it might not help anyway,” said Mike, “I have an idea. I’m going to make her feel something that will have her turned off when she looks at any guy, she finds remotely attractive, besides you and me. I’m thinking she’s much less likely that this stuck-up homophobic princess is going to decide to sleep with a woman, and even if she did that might just do her some good.”
“Ok,” I said, “what kind of feeling?” I asked, as Mike was rapidly typing into his computer.
“Give me a sec,” he said. I gave him a few minutes, then “done. She’s now going to feel mildly queasy whenever she gets too close to any guy she finds at all attractive. That should be enough to spoil the mood. Anyway, I’m going to head home now, and go through the telemetry of this app, see if there’s any tweaks and whatnot that need to be made.”
As Mike was heading home, Ashley was walking into a local bar, one that had just opened a few minutes ago. Inside there weren’t a lot of people, but there was one guy sitting in there that was at least tolerable for a quick fuck, although definitely not someone she would actually date. As she came up to him and was about to be a lot more forward than she would normally be, she suddenly felt a bit ill. Nothing too horrible, but enough to kill her mood. The guy looked up at her, and that cemented it, this guy wasn’t going to do it for her. Seeing no one else even remotely attractive in the bar, she headed home.
When she got home, she flopped down on her couch. She was kind of glad that she wasn’t horny anymore, and the queasiness had long gone away, but she was very worried at this point, and very frustrated with herself. She thought about calling her doctor, but she didn’t know what to say. She definitely didn’t want to it to him everything that had been happening. She didn’t know who to talk to right now.
She knew Olivia, her bartender friend, would be up by now, so she reached for her phone. Needing a distraction, just someone to talk to, Ashley fired off a text and soon they were chatting. Gossip flowed like usual; Ashley couldn’t help cutting in with her trademark snark, ribbing their mutual friends and adding her dry commentary. But mid-rant, she realized she was absentmindedly touching herself, which made her cringe. She tried to wrap up their call with a not-so-convincing excuse, only to find herself doing it again, now with even more frustration.
“Seriously? Is this some kind of sick joke? I’m getting off on lying now? Classic. Just what I need, my brain rewiring itself for some weird, humiliating self-destruction. Great job, Ash. Really crushing it.” A bitter laugh escaped her, quickly dissolving into tears she tried to blink away.
When Mike got home, he poured through the data. He didn’t have nearly as much ability to gather information, but given Ashley also wears a smart watch connected to her phone it was still very useful. Jason had set up monitoring for everything else that she was doing through her phone, and Mike had access to all of it, so he had a fair amount to correlate with as well.
The part about being turned off around being too close to other men did work, but Ashley had stumbled across a strategy that was going to complicate this plan. She had started messaging various guys that from her address book and previous history she had at least some attraction to, some exes, and some guys she had been just flirty with. And she was deliberately lying and enjoying the masturbations that came from it, even if she couldn’t get herself off.
Mike thought for a moment about what to do next. He didn’t want to reinforce lying. He could try blocking the attraction in general to any guys besides himself and Jason, but Ashley wasn’t stupid and would make that connection pretty quickly. Then it hit him, masturbation was obvious and humiliating, but it was too much of a reward. He thought of something better and then began making modifications to the program.
About an hour later, Ashley was playing with herself in bed, nude, while listening to music on her ear buds, and chatting with people. It felt weird doing this in a dress or skirt all the time. She had just started a new chat with some guy Chad that had been hitting on her for months now when the urge to masturbate started to go away. “Crap. Although I guess this is for the best” she said, pulling her hand away from her absolutely dripping snatch, and took another swig from her water bottle she’s been needing to keep herself hydrated. She then continued the conversation with Chad, working on some new lies to bring the conversation to a close in a way that she could easily pick it up later. But then a new urge started. At first it was minor, easy to resist. It then kept building, until she was squeezing and pulling on her nipples, hard, very hard. Ashley screamed out “fuck, stop that, fucking stop that!” to herself. She hated having her nipples played with, it felt like wasps were stinging her. She couldn’t count the number of guys that she had to keep from playing with her nipples and was the only reason why she had dumped a few of them.
She kept pulling and pinching, way harder than she thought she could stand, until eventually she could make herself stop. Her nipples throbbed in pain, and she could see how swollen they had become. “Fuck fuck fuck!” Ashley yelled out to no one. “How the fuck am I supposed to lie now?”
Ashley sprawled on her bed, waiting out the throbbing pain with a scowl. She muttered to the empty room, half pep talk, half bitter rant, oblivious to her phone quietly recording everything. “God, pull it together, Ash. You can’t just go toe-to-toe with whatever sick joke this is, clearly you’re losing. But hey, you’ve got a brain, right? Time to actually use it for once. First: run some tests, figure out the rules of this little game before you manage to break yourself again,” she said, continuing to scold herself. “At least it’s not boring.”
Ashley got up, yanked a few shirts from her closet and started layering—thick sweater, then a jacket so bulky it looked like she was on her way to summit Everest. “Real cute, Ash. Just what every girl dreams of, drowning in fabric to keep her hands off her own body. Maybe I’ll make it a new fashion trend: desperate chic.” She scowled at her reflection, then grabbed the nearest miniskirt. “Why not add a skirt to complete the look? If anyone asks, I’ll tell them I’m auditioning for a postmodern art piece called ‘Self-Sabotage in Wool and Polyester.’ Fantastic. Let’s see how long I last before I start clawing at my skin.”
“Alright, let’s see, I’m a football quarterback for the NFL.”
Ashley felt the strong compulsion to twist her nipples through the jacket. It wasn’t the most comfortable sensation but was tolerable. At one point she even tried to stick her hands up her jacket and was getting tangled before the urge died down.
“Ok, so it happens even when you’re not talking to anyone. That’s good. We can test things.” Ashley spent the next hour going over exactly what would and wouldn’t trigger her reaction. Eventually she had figured it out. “Everything I say has to be the literal truth. I can’t rely on a word having two different meanings. But I don’t have to say everything. Nothing is compelling me to speak,” she said, ironically not realizing her compulsion making her say those words out loud, “so if someone comes to the wrong conclusion about what I’m saying I don’t have to correct them.”
“Alright, so it kicks in even if I’m not chatting with someone. Great, good to know. Makes testing way less complicated.” Ashley paced the room, muttering to herself as she worked through the logic. “Okay, every single thing I say has to be the truth, like, no wiggle room, no clever word games. But, bonus, I don’t have to hand over every detail, do I? As long as I’m not technically lying, I can let people draw their own dumb conclusions” she said, ironically not realizing her compulsion making her say those words out loud. “But hey, at least I’m not forced to spill everything, right?”
“Ugh, forget this, way too hot for this nonsense,” she muttered, peeling off layers and heading for the shower. As she went, words tumbled out, sharp and sarcastic. “Alright, this isn’t some random brain glitch. People don’t just start acting like this out of nowhere. Someone’s behind this, pulling strings. And when I figure out who it is, they’re going to wish they’d never heard my name.” After the shower Ashley got back dressed and proceeded to spend the rest of her evening researching on her laptop what might possibly be going on and how someone might do this.
I came home from work and saw Michael going through everything at his desk. I could tell he was in full research mode and knew better than to try to break him out of it when he got like this. “I’m heading to the gym, I’ll make us something to eat when I get back” I said, kissing his head, before I went to work out.
I grabbed a pizza and some drinks on the way home, and over dinner he began his adorable infodump. Even when I have no real interest in the subject, I find these fascinating, Mike is so good at explaining things he’s ionate about. But I was hanging on even more to his every word than normal, given my own stakes in the matter.
“She’s amazing Jason,” said Mike, wolfing down another slice of pizza. I could tell he had skipped lunch. “She’s really fucking smart, and is laser focused on this problem, even more than me.”
“I hope you’re not falling for her,” I said. “And she’s not usually seeming smart or dedicated when it comes to her job. She usually just tries to get someone else to do as much of her work as she can while she fucks around on her phone.”
“Oh, I’m definitely not falling for her,” laughs my husband. “For one thing she’s even more racist than she’s homophobic. I can’t say for sure, both because I’m not technically qualified to diagnose psychological disorders, and I don’t have quite enough data yet, but I am growing convinced that she’s got a full-on personality disorder, quite likely psychopathy,” he continued, taking a drink of his soda. “I don’t ire her as a person, not that either of us are glowing examples of morality, I more ire her as an absolutely fascinating subject of study. As to why she’s not applying herself at work, well, that would both be consistent with whatever personality disorder she has, and she just doesn’t have the motivation. Why bother as long as she doesn’t do enough for her own mom to fire her?”
I let out a bit of a groan. “Is this actually a good idea then? Are we just playing with fire? Maybe you should just push her to get fired, in a way that would keep her out of our lives and then remove all the programming.”
Mike responded, “for one, I don’t think that’s a good idea. That would both really set her down a bad path that could make her hurt a lot of people before she finally self-destructs, and two, and this is important, I’m smarter,” he said, grinning ear to ear.
“That you are,” I said, moving over to kiss him deeply, and starting to pull him into make out, maybe more. Mike stopped me though, “look, I’m sorry Jason, I would love to, but I need more data to go to, plus there’s always more coming in. I may be smarter than her, but I can only use that if I have all the information I can at my disposal,” he said, moving to his desk carrying the rest of his plate and soda.
I knew better than to try to drag him away from his research and instead ed in going through the data with him from my nearby desk, until I was ready for bed. I knew Mike was going to be pulling another all-nighter though without even asking.