System Failure

All characters are over eighteen. The author does not condone violence or non-consensual sex.

Please try to leave feedback in the comments section. Constructive criticism is invaluable for every author. I encourage everyone to vote and leave ideas for future stories as well. Lastly, I would like to thank every editor who helped me with this story.

*****

RECAP: Society is divided between upper-class High Risers and Servicers, who make up 95% of the city. Tom, an extraordinarily gifted Servicer, has the ability to hack the neural implants worn by everyone in the city. He used that to steal nanites (body modifying injections) from Silvia South, a High Riser who insulted him. After discovering she and her husband were trying to conceive, Tom impregnated her before hacking her implant to remove her memories.

"Come on, Laura. We're almost home."

Emily held the door open while Tom did his best to help her heavily drunk roommate into her apartment. She hadn't even had that many drinks, but because Laura was a total lightweight, she was totally zonked.

Laura was a platinum blonde with the movie-star looks to match. Her youthful face, short hair, and slim body contrasted with Emily's more natural girl-next-door appearance. The latter might've been his best friend, but if push came to shove, Tom had to admit Laura might've won in the looks department.

Not that he'd ever planned on saying that to Emily's face, though. She was quite protective of her roommate.

"Thanks, Tom," Emily said as he laid Laura down on the sofa.

"No problem," he replied. "Mind if I stay for a while?"

"Sure," she said. "Grab a drink from the fridge and something to eat. I'll join as soon as I finish with Laura."

Tom knew Emily wouldn't have kept the cheapest beer in the world within spitting distance of Laura, so he settled for a glass of water. He grabbed a pan and set a chicken breast to low heat while checking his latest notification feed.

Most of it was work-related, but there was one important message from his home server.

In the four months since his encounter with Mrs. South, Tom had spent most of his time planning his next move. Like every Servicer in the city, he'd always dreamed of becoming a High Riser. In a city of tens of millions that had seen entire generations come and go, no more than a handful had ever risen beyond the Lower Levels.

A false identity would be his best bet. Make it appear he died and wipe every trace the old Tom ever existed. The 'new' Tom wouldn't even be new at all; all the records would show that he had been a successful High Riser his entire life.

The subtlety of that plan made him smile, but there was much to do before it could happen. At the top of his agenda was finding more nanites. There was also a pressing need for money. Being a master hacker would only get him so far. He needed to make real transactions.

Easier said than done. Making a direct move on a major bank or nanite manufacturer was too risky. There would be many independent systems involved. Even if he could hack each one, all would have to remain undetected. One failed attempt would set him back a long way.

To help him, he had a new generation of neural interface codes. One flaw with the muscle control codes he'd used on Mrs. South was how tedious they were. These new codes were designed to leave the target in a blank slate, able to answer questions and obey directives, but essentially unable to make conscious decisions.

After months of simulations to verify their safety, they were finally ready for use. He just had to pick his target.

Thinking of Silvia South reminded him of another goal. The successful High Riser had been rich, beautiful, and arrogant. The thought of a lowly Servicer in her presence was beneath her contempt.

That made it all the more satisfying when he impregnated her.

Using his hacking abilities for sex hadn't been high on his priority list before. Now it was. There was something inherently satisfying about giving a High Riser his child. Of fusing his genes with the rich and powerful and allowing a piece of himself to grow up in a life he had never known.

He did have limits, though. He would only impregnate High Risers who wanted a child. Forcing a life—or conceiving one only to have it ended early—was something he would never do. Everyone deserved to be loved. Sometimes Tom wondered if that was the problem with High Risers.

Laura's problem, it turned out, was not unrelated.

"Director—

hiccup

—Anderson is gonna shut down our entire hospital. Hui—

hiccup

—told me so."

"Hui?" Emily asked.

"She's—

hiccup

—Mrs. Anderson's secretary, so she should know."

Tom's guess was that Laura would not be feeling pleasant for some time.

"Ohhh...

hiccup

," she moaned. "Daddy is gonna be so disappointed in me."

She buried her face in her hands as if it were the most awful thought in the world.

Tom's memories of his father stopped with his death when he was five, and he never had any memories of his mother. Even he knew this was not the way family was supposed to treat family.

Nothing Laura ever did was good enough for them. Despite following the family's traditional career of becoming an accomplished physician, she always complained they never treated her like real family. That didn't stop her from constantly trying to please them.

"She'll be out for the night," Emily announced once she joined him and grabbed a salad.

Tom could never understand vegetarians and why they would willingly give up so many treats, and Emily was no exception. She often tried to flip things by jokingly terrorizing him with the thought of greens.

"You'll never change," he said with a shake of his head. It wasn't a question.

"Nope," she said proudly. "You know me. I'm too stubborn."

Her self-satisfied smile only lasted for a few seconds. "I just wish we could help Laura is all."

"That's easy," he shrugged. "Just get her to stop bending over backward for her father so much. She'll find another job, no sweat. She just needs to stop acting like his scowl is the end of the world."

"Tom," Emily retorted angrily. "You know how important he is to her."

"Em, you know how he treats her. Why is her goal in life to make him happy?"

"That's none of our business," she said.

She tried a different tactic soon after.

"I don't suppose you know Mrs. Anderson? Or Hui?" she asked.

"Mrs. Anderson? No. I kinda know Hui, though."

Tom had done jobs for the healthcare conglomerate Laura worked at before. Since Director Anderson couldn't be bothered to meet a Servicer for the safety of her entire security network, all his interactions had been through intermediaries. Hui seemed like one of the few higher-ups who was actually pleasant to work with.

"Think you could try talking to her?" Emily pleaded. "See if there's anything she can do."

Any other day, Tom would've replied the Director's secretary had zero chance of changing her boss's mind. But that was before he had his secret weapon.

"Sure," he said. "I'll talk to her tomorrow. And I may have something else to help Laura."

*****

'Tomorrow' was meaningless in the Lower Levels.

The city was essentially two cities. One was hundreds of feet above the ground with an artificial floor that blocked out the sun for everyone else. Everyone who wasn't a High Riser lived in the darkness and poverty of the Lower Levels. They could only enter the Upper Levels by controlled access elevators for business needs.

Tom had one: lunch with a High Riser's secretary. Hui lived on the outskirts of High Riser society, but that was good enough. She'd agreed to lunch, provided he paid. Tom figured that was a small price to pay.

"I do wish I could help her," Hui told him. "She's my friend, too. But Director Anderson will never listen to me."

Tom ate as he listened to the sympathetic but powerless CEO assistant. Hui Zheng was known for being efficient, competent, and getting things done, perhaps to a fault. She was surrounded by High Risers who had never worked half as hard as her a single day in their lives. They were looking for any excuse to take down the woman who came dangerously close to threatening them.

It didn't help that she was an attractive Asian woman. Tom knew that Hui had been born to Chinese parents, and her mother was a High Riser who later remarried. She was five-foot-two, had jet-black hair, and a smooth, round face that left no doubt she was ethnically Chinese.

The fact that she was an American by birth didn't mean much to the other High Risers. They held their tongue for her High Riser mother, but not for her. Raised by her father on the lower end of High Riser society, her lower status was all that mattered to them.

She did a good job hiding it, but Tom was certain she harbored no small amount of resentment over the way they treated her. He might be able to use that to his advantage.

"Let me ask you something," he queried hypothetically. "Are you worried about your own job?"

Hui's poker face broke. Her head dropped. "Yes. One of my colleagues, Boberra, is the one who talked her into it. I'm pretty sure he's trying to use this to get rid of me."

It soon became apparent that Hui was more concerned than she let on. He'd come here hoping to help Laura, but now he believed he needed to help Hui as well.

"I might have something." He leaned forward to look her squarely in the eye. "If I were to say, 'Get me as far into the building as you can, no questions asked, and I'll take care of the rest,' would you?"

She only blinked once.

"Sure."

*****

Hui could only get him past the first set of badge-unlocked doors, but that was enough. He sneaked out of her sight and began working his way deeper by himself.

He'd considered wiping her memory but decided against it. She could come up with a good excuse for why she had brought a Servicer into the building, but not if she didn't remember.

More fundamentally, they'd made a deal. That was one lesson his father had taught him: a good man always keeps his word. Tom would keep his word to Hui.

It took hours to carefully work his way past every form of security, but it paid off. He was inside her office, watching her attend her last virtual conference of the day.

"Make sure those audits are sent to me by 20:00 hours. I want to see who needs to be cut."

Hui told him that Alita Anderson was known for rewarding cutthroat ambition more than competence, and it looked like her reputation was deserved. Fortunately, she made up for it in other ways.

Tom thought she looked like an enhanced version of Laura. She had shiny blonde hair cut short to frame her head, covering her ears. Thin lips, not too thick, and cheekbones that enhanced her face. The perfect businesswoman.

No one would've guessed she was nearly sixty; aggressive use of nanites made her look closer to her early twenties. Not that Tom had a problem with that.

To his great delight, her birth control was disabled. He was quite eager to see what she looked like under that suit.

"Idiots," she muttered under her breath. She stood up and spun around to find herself face-to-face with the man waiting behind her the entire time.

"WHO THE FUC—"

She was cut off mid-curse as his neural control codes took effect. Her indignity was replaced by stoicism, and her cheeks were no longer red. Her arms fell to her sides while her back straightened, making her look like a robot.

And, like any mechanical creation, she was ready to obey directives.

"Can you hear me?" Tom asked.

"Yes," she answered in a flat voice.

"Good. Now, cancel the rest of your meetings and appointments. Let all your secretaries and assistants know you do not wish to be disturbed. Make sure no one will interrupt us for the next few hours."

The controlled Director Anderson did her duty. No one in their right mind would be barging in anytime soon.

While she was working, he was completing a job of his own.

Besides helping his friends, his other reason for entering was so he could insert a permanent backdoor into one of the biggest healthcare providers in the city. It wouldn't be a get-rich-overnight type of scheme, but if he could covertly set up a system to divert the tiniest of funds, he could begin slowly building up enough funds to move on to bigger targets.

Then he moved back to Anderson. She continued watching him closely, waiting for orders.

"Do you have a nanite injection site?" he asked. For frequent nanite users, a small, unnoticeable mark that allowed nanites to be injected directly was better than constantly using needles that draw blood.

"Below my elbow." She raised and twisted her arm to display it to him. He had to lean in until he was an inch away to see the tiny circle of metal. Holding the vial, he slowly injected a small dose of nanites into the healthcare CEO.

Tom instinctively hated using any of his preciously small supply of nanites, but this was worth it. It would essentially turn Anita Anderson herself into a living backdoor. Even if everything else he'd planted was discovered, as long as these specially-programmed nanites remained in her system, he would always be able to access her neural implant. Uploading codes or scanning her memory could be done from anywhere in the world.

His first use of the backdoor was to save Laura and Hui from the chopping block and put Boberra on it instead. Even a five-second glance at the data told him he shouldn't lose any sleep over it.

That took care of business. Time for pleasure.

"Why do you have your birth control disabled?" he asked. "Are you hoping to have kids?"

"Yes," she answered. "I've been looking at sperm banks, but none of the candidates have been worthy of me."

Even hypnotized, her arrogance still showed.

"Then allow me to help you," he growled.

Tom quickly removed his shirt and pants, leaving nothing but boxers and his slowly hardening cock. He took a seat in her executive chair, which had to be the most comfortable thing he had ever taken a seat in, and gave her a single command.

"Strip!"

With military speed and precision, her hands moved across her body. She removed the buttons from the top of her business suit, then slid one arm out before sending it flying with the other. All she had underneath was a white top that looked too small for her protruding bust.

Next to go were her pants. She unzipped them and pushed them down, bending over to step out of her shoes simultaneously. She even pulled her socks off the same way. When she stood up, Tom glimpsed a pure white but undoubtedly very expensive pair of panties, which she wasted no time removing. She pushed them past her soft hips and down her slim legs before kicking them off.

Tom wasn't surprised to see she was completely shaven. No doubt, it was a reflection of her perfectionist view of herself.

Her pussy looked beautiful, but he had no time to study it in further detail before she raised her shirt and removed her bra. Her breasts shook as she tossed it off somewhere to join her panties. Mission complete, she waited in front of him for further orders.

Tom couldn't help but respect whoever was responsible for her nanite work. He had never seen a stiffer pair of tits in his life. They refused to bend to gravity or acknowledge age.

"Come here," he told her. Once she was in range, he reached out to feel her firm tits for himself. They were even harder than he'd guessed. His fingers barely dented her flesh at all. Clearly, she'd wanted to make sure they would not interfere with her business image without sacrificing her womanly pride.

His fingers didn't do much, but his mouth did. He licked her nipples with rapid lashes until they visibly hardened from arousal. Then he clenched them with his teeth, chewing on one before moving to the other for several minutes. When he gripped one and tried to pull, her breast refused to budge. Only with considerable force could he stretch them beyond their normal cone shape. Unbelievable.

Mother nature would never have produced a cleavage like this, but it was still genetic. Seemed she was hoping to pass her nanite-produced tits down to a daughter.

And she really did want one. Tom made sure to confirm that; whatever else she was, Anderson wanted to be a mother, and she'd be a good one.

Tom let go of her tits and let his eyes wander, absorbing every detail of the tiny blonde businesswoman in front of him. Once he could feel himself hardening, he ordered, "Get down on your knees and pull my cock out!"

Excitement didn't begin to describe how the man in his early twenties felt when the woman nearly three times his age gripped his boxers and tried shoving them down. She frowned as she repeatedly tried to yank them past his hardening erection. His cock immediately sprang free, sticking up like a flagpole inches from her face. Her eyes locked on the ten-inch-long manhood directly in front of her.

"That's...big," she observed, speaking out for the first time. He could only wonder how she would've reacted if she wasn't hypnotized.

Gripping his cock, he pointed the huge, mushroom-shaped head directly at her.

"Suck it!"

"I don't know if I can," she replied flatly, but she was already moving. It was the last vestiges of her old personality shining through.

She spent several seconds flexing her jaw until she had opened her tiny mouth as wide as possible. She tilted her head and began to engulf him.

Tom moaned at the feeling of a woman's warm mouth closing around him for the first time since he'd used the nanites on himself. It was satisfying beyond measure to watch a bitchy High Riser swallow his cock as if it were the only reason for her existence.

When he reached the back of her mouth, she didn't hesitate. She simply shifted her throat and began sucking him deeper. Tom could actually see muscles in her neck bulging. The only reason she was able to do it was because of his neural control codes. She could never have taken so much of him in her normal state, even if she wanted. Now she managed to bury him until her nose reached his crotch without much problem.

Gulping and gurgling like any common porn star making deep-throat noises, she began to impale herself. All he could see was a blur as her lips traveled down every ridge and vein of his engorged cock. She was essentially jacking him off using her own throat.

He could feel his cock swelling in no time. "Swallow it," he groaned.

Grabbing her bobbing head a split second before he lost control, he thrust deep and held himself in her mouth. He unloaded a torrent of hot cum directly into her esophagus, groaning as she milked him for all she was worth.

When he was done, she just waited for more instructions.

"Lick my cock," he eventually breathed. "Try to get me hard again."

Her tongue went to work, stroking and tracing him like a pro. He had her slowly trace his crown before she was done, sending shivers down his spine.

"Now," he told her, shifting himself to make room on her chair. "Climb on and fuck me!"

Anita Anderson, proud CEO, climbed until she hovered above her own chair. With one hand on his shoulder and another holding his cock at the entrance to her pussy, she began lowering herself.

Tom stretched her wider than ever as his hard cock slowly sank into her deepest folds. Even hypnosis couldn't prevent sharp intakes of breath as he plowed deeper into her pussy. When she finally settled, his cock was resting against her cervix.

Then she shifted to find the best position and began to raise and lower herself up and down. Up and down. The wealthy High Riser was like a living fleshlight as she took a man so much her lesser into her body. His only role was to relax and enjoy the sight as the athletic woman humped him like her life depended on it.