The Master Program

The idea for this story comes from JR Parz and the Master PC stories. I write this inspired by his original work.

Chapter 2: Imogen Daniels

Twenty-four hours went by and Stephen resisted the urge to open up the Master Program, though his mouse pointer hovered over the desktop shortcut many times. Since his changes, he had soaked up his revision in no time, and was beginning to race ahead of schedule. He had considered opening up the program to make himself even more intelligent, but he figured that the program might not allow it, and even if it did, he wanted still some challenge to life. The moral dilemma of fiddling around with another person still played in his head, and he kept wondering why you'd need to ever control or alter another person. That was before he logged into Facebook that afternoon after his best ever study session. He looked through all the girls he had ever lusted after, and remembered Parz's comment about having 'my women'. Women; plural. He could probably have anyone he wanted, and as many as he wanted. He sat and stared at Imogen Daniels' profile page for a few minutes, then double clicked the Master Program.

"Welcome back, Stephen."

"Hi...I... would like to see Imogen Daniels, please?" he asked timidly, wondering if the program was, or even could judge him, "the one from my lecture classes."

She immediately appeared, wearing a low-cut top and very tight jeans, and outfit he had seen her wear a couple of times in lectures, which had induced a semi-erection both times. As a physicist, he rarely got to see women, let alone hot ones, in his classes. Imogen was a natural science student, who took three courses with him, which were, not coincidentally, the courses for which he attended the most lectures. Her face resembled Rachel Bilson and her body was incredibly slender. He put her at about 5'8", with smallish breasts; her only downside, in his opinion, other than a slight hint of 'ghetto booty'. She was almost perfect, in fact, with DD breasts, and a small reduction in the size of her arse she would be perfect. Physically that is. She was a total bitch and that is why she would be his first target; it was easy to reconcile in her mind.

"Where is Imogen now?"

A map appeared on screen, with a blue dot labelled 'User' positioned in his flat, while a green dot labelled 'Subject' was located inside the university's library.

"Can you make her come to this flat?"

"Opening Command Routine...you can now issue one off commands to given individual; this will not use one of your 999 remaining slots."

"Right... I want Imogen to come to my flat, but make her think she is going to her flat. And when she gets here have her buzz in, thinking she has forgot her keys. Make her think it's her flatmate letting her in."

"Task complete."

Stephen watched in anticipation and fear as the green dot began to move to the bus stop. He began planning what changes he would make as the green dot sped along the road towards his flat.

For twenty minutes his eyes followed the progress of the dot up to his flat door, when he heard the door buzzer go. "Julie? You in? I've left my keys inside."

He buzzed her in and then quickly addressed the computer.

"Uh, once she is in, make sure Imogen doesn't perceive me. Just make her walk into the room and stand there," he said in a panicked voice, pointing next to the kitchen table, "and like, put her in a trance type thing."

"Task complete," answered the program as the door knocked.

Trembling, Stephen opened the door to see Imogen standing there looking dazed. He moved to one side and she strode to the exact spot he indicated and then took up a position to exactly mirror the Macbook's screen, bar the slow rotation. Stephen hurriedly shut the door and drew the curtains, to make sure no one could see what was going on.

"Im...Imogen?," said Stephen, his voice shaky. He prodded her shoulder, but all she did was tilt to one side, then back again when he stopped proding. Feeling very seedy, he dropped his jeans and underwear to reveal his hardening penis.

"OK," he said, very slowly, before gripping his fledgling erection, "I want Imogen to undress, and then resume her pose."

He began to beat at his dick as she stepped out of her plim-soles and removed her top. She wasn't being seductive at all, but he had wanked over her naked body in his mind so many times that he couldn't wait to see the real thing. The clothes on her on-screen avatar faded one by one, updating her state of dress, within a second of it occurring in real life. Once she returned to her unnaturally still state, he released his pole and began examining her body, both real and virtual.

"Turn side-on to me," he instructed her. She followed his command and presented her left side to him. Stephen's guilt was ebbing, partly because he was too horny to care, and partly because her current lack of humanity made her seem less real. He brought up the slider for her buttocks which were now the focus off the screen. After some trial and error, he reduced the overall mass of them by 7.3%, which made the curve of her bum more proportional to the rest of her body. He commanded her to face away, so that he could see the real bum from behind. He tightened the buttocks very slightly, and increased her hip size marginally. Pleased with his work, he committed the changes, and watched her bum re-shape.

He wanked over her again for a minute, feeling very aroused that he had the power to shape her in any way he pleased, then changed the focus of the screen to her breasts. He made the real Imogen face him too and began looking between the two sets of breasts. He used the text editor on the 'cup size' field to increase the already existing 32B to 32DD. He watched them grow onscreen then pondered to himself. Tentatively, he upped them again to 32EE, and began to touch himself as they grew once again. They were now about as large as her head when looked at face on, and nearly the depth of her ribcage when examined side on. One thing that did disappoint him was that they had a modest level of sagging, presumably to preserve the natural look and feel of them. Slightly bored of fiddling with the sliders, he issued verbal commands to the program, "Make Imogen's breasts firmer and commit the changes." He watched as her bosom swelled to several times their original size, this time looking perfectly pert, just like he had imagined.

"Out of curiosity, can you give her breast impants?"

"No, I could alter her shape, to emulate the appearance of fake breasts, but I cannot create the implants, without severely contravening physical laws."

"So, no piercings?"

"I can create piercings on the body, but you would have to acquire the jewellery."

"Tattoos?"

"I can emulate the look of tattoo ink by altering pigmentation, or if the subject were to ingest the required volume of tattoo ink, I could redirect it and create a real tattoo."

"OK, I'll get my hands on those tomorrow, for now, let's just tune her up. Can I make standardised routines, to apply to people so I don't have to keep re-entering all my commands?"

"Yes."

"OK, I would like you to create a routine, call it the 'health routine', and it removes all the health issues, eyesight problems, etc, etc, that you did for me yesterday, tunes up the digestive system, stops ageing, just don't mess with body fat. Apply this routine to Imogen." He waited until confirmation of the task being complete, which came just after a small spot on the left side of her chin vanished.

"OK," he said, nodding his head approvingly, "now the 'intelligence routine'; improve her overall intelligence and memory, but every time I apply this routine, I want a prompt by how much this routine changes these characteristics. Apply."

"How much would you like her intelligence improved by?"

"Five percent."

"And memory?"

"By a third."

"Task complete."

"OK, I'm gonna create a whole new routine, call it the 'female grooming routine'. Firstly," he said, looking at her stubbly legs, "I want all external body hair completely and permanently removed, except for eyebrows and scalp hair. Eyebrows should have a neat appearance and no strays over her nose. For hair on the pubis, I want a prompt, where I'll instruct you on how to groom it, same for head hair, actually. If I choose the subject to retain pubic hair there then it should be no longer than a centimetre and be as soft as head hair. Colour will remain the same unless I state otherwise. Do not mess with internal hair, if it has an important purpose, like for trapping dust entering the nose and stuff, but, actually, if it is visible, minimise it if safe. Tan the subject's skin to, uh, well, um, you can read my mind and decide how much tan I like, but do vary it a little. Make toenails permanently well trimmed and neat, and fingernails, just a little bit long. If they do break then re-grow them overnight. Oh crap, nearly forgot eyelashes! Keep them, and make them long and sexy."

"I think I am ready to apply..." he said, pondering to himself, when he looked at her feet again, "Oh yeah, and make her feet and legs perfectly accustomed to walking in heels, without changing their outward appearance. Now apply!"

"How would you like head hair to be styled?"

He looked at her hair as it was now, brown; a few shades lighter than his own, nearly straight and just touching her shoulders. He let out a 'hmmm' before speaking, "grow it down to between her shoulder-blades and make it a bit wavier."

"Pubic hair?"

"Leave just a square, or rather, uh what's the name? Like a truncated triangle? Oh yeah, trapezium. So, about an inch in height and an inch at its widest point; the top."

He went in closer to her body as the transformation began; he could see her nails growing and shrinking to reach uniformity, he also observed her head hair lengthen while the hair on her vulva disappeared, all but a near square that lay a pinkie finger's width above her slit. She was now possibly the single hottest woman he ever saw. She looked like someone had photo-shopped real life, which he supposed he had done, in a way. Flawless tanned skin, thick shiny hair and enormous pert boobs made him wank over her furiously for a few minutes. Nervously, he reached out with his left hand, and cupped her right breast, lifting it up and releasing it.

"Wow, those are heavy... I see why girls need bras now. One last routine, 'breast enlargement'; always make them pert, like this, but prompt on size, and well, I want you to make her not have to wear a bra, say by tightening any muscles or skin or something, so the subject can support her own breasts, irrelevant of size. Apply."

"What cup size would you like?"

"Oh, uh, keep them at this size."

"Task complete."

"OK, send her back to her flat now but I suppose we need to make some modifications? To stop her questioning what has happened to her?"

"By default, all subjects, unless they are aware of the Master Program, by being a user, or being informed by a user, will automatically believe they changed naturally or were always the way they were, as of the most recent change, as will all the people around them."

"Cool, but what about photos and videos?"

"Normally, I am not permitted to control inanimate objects, but in the case of photos and videos, it has a greater impact factor to leave them unchanged. Other items, for instance, an ill-fitting bra would, by default, no longer be able to be perceived by the subject or others. You can suggest an alternate method if you so wish, such as disposing of contradictory items."

"Oh, right. Why can't you make it such that people perceive videos or photos to look like the changed subject?"

"The high level of digital information exchange means there is a risk of having to alter too many people."

"Right, well, make Imogen get dressed, without her underwear. In fact, make her think that she doesn't need to wear underwear. Make her put the underwear on the table, then leave and get back on the bus. Make her think she has been on the bus back from university this whole time, and not question the time she has lost."

He watched her naked form put her black thong and pink bra on the table in front of him, before pulling her jeans up over her bare crotch. He gently wanked over her, until she pulled the top she had been wearing back over her chest. Her nipples were hard from standing around naked in the cool flat, and her cleavage was the most epic cleavage he had possibly ever seen. As soon as she exited his flat he went to the window and watched for as long as he could. After she was out of sight, he sat down at his laptop and stared at her pokey nipples, wondering how many people were doing the same to the real Imogen.

"Can I see what Imogen is doing right now?"

"Yes, activating 'live mode'," replied the computer, and Imogen was standing in a more natural position, tapping her foot, presumably waiting at the bus stop, "Would you like to activate environment mode?"

"Yeah, go on then," said Stephen and a street materialised around Imogen. A bus pulled up next to her and she boarded it, walking towards the nearest seat. A thought crossed Stephen's mind, while he still slowly rubbed his erection. He smiled to himself, then pressed the 'toggle clothes' button. Imogen's clothes disappeared, and it looked as if she was sitting there, naked in public. The sight was so arousing that he could feel his climax coming. He looked down at her crossed legs and remembered how smooth her labia looked. He tilted his head back; focused on the image and then felt the grip of orgasm, as semen squirted and leaked out of his bell-end. A wave of guilt washed over him within seconds of his climax finishing and he stopped to stare at the screen. No longer driven by sexual arousal, he felt thoroughly ashamed at altering another human being to become his own personal glamour model. He hovered around the 'Revert' button when something occurred to him.

"Make me the subject." The screen changed to a full body shot of him.

"Remove my...uh...after-orgasm period the..."

"Refractory period; setting it to zero seconds."

His guilt was quickly replaced with mild arousal as his post-orgasmic low disappeared. His penis started to erect itself as soon as he thought of Imogen's 32EE breasts. He brought up her image again and turned her naked, so that he could wank over her. It took ten minutes to for him to climax again, and he had to slow down due to oversensitivity, but he remained totally rigid. The sensitiveness waned and he knew he would have been able to get right to it again but he decided to stop, and edit himself a little more, otherwise he would have just kept going all evening.

"First, give me full conscious control of my erection. Next, make sure I can come to the precipice of orgasm but never actually cum unless I specifically decide to do, and I can do so any time I am erect. Also, reduce my post-orgasm sensitivity to... 1.1 times my regular sensitivity. Apply."

As soon as the task was complete, he made his dick switch between flaccid and erect a few times, then began to wank. After fifteen minutes, he felt like he was on the edge, he could feel the orgasm brimming, but it wouldn't go any further, he thought to himself about orgasming and that very second, a modest helping of cum squeezed its way out of his tip. Still erect, he thought about cumming again, which he did but this time it was even less powerful and less sperm emerged. He stroked his rod and thought about another improvement.

"Make sure subsequent orgasms don't reduce in strength. Apply."

"Task complete."

"Also, what is my average ejaculation distance and volume?" he asked, with a grin on his face.

"1.2 feet and 5.2 millilitres, respectively."

"OK, what about the greatest distance and volume I have ever achieved?"

"3.8 feet and 6.7 millilitres."

"Right, set my average ejaculation to be...11 mils, and this will not vary by greater than 10% at any orgasm, make every spurt 1.5 times thicker than my current most thick spurt, again with no variance greater than 10%. The first spurt should go the farthest, between 3 and 5 feet, while the succeeding two-thirds of the volume should travel between 1 and 3 feet. The rest can dribble out. Also, make it tasteless," he said, wanking as fast as he could, thinking about spurting huge loads all over Imogen, "Apply." As the computer confirmed its task was complete, huge ropes of semen accelerated across the room and leaving a thick gooey white trail from his seat to the door. He made his penis go flaccid and collected some kitchen roll from the sink.

Still reeling from the many orgasms, even after the time it took to clean up the copious volume of sperm, he sat down at his Macbook, and minimised the Master Program to open up Firefox. He found the nearest piercing and tattoo parlours, of which there were plenty in Camden and checked how much money he had in his wallet. His tener and various coins totalled £14.53; not enough, he presumed, to pick up the items he had in mind. He looked at the Master Program, thought to himself, then spoke, "you can run on any computerised device... right?"

"Yes."

"Even on my phone?" he queried, removing the Blackberry from his pocket.

"Yes."

The phone's downloading symbol appeared the right hand corner of the screen, for around 20 seconds, and then the screen went black, as his Macbook had done yesterday.

"Welcome, Stephen," said his phone.

"Cool!" he said, excitedly, "what can I do on the phone?"

"You can do everything via voice commands, provided the main the Master Program is running."

"Brilliant, well start up the Command...Interface was it? I need to do some manipulating."

Stephen walked to the tattoo parlour, after creating a new routine, which he called 'hypnosis'. When he activated this command the subject would agree with him completely, regardless of what he asked, and then afterwards, their memories would be altered to perfectly explain the incident. In this case, the piercer sold him £35 worth of rings and barbells, both curved and straight, for £14 as well as giving him several bottles of ink. Stephen was informed the piercer would only remember giving him £14 worth of stuff, the existence of the rest would be erased from his memory altogether. He felt a little guilty at essentially stealing, but he looked at his new acquisitions, and thought about his plans for Imogen. Arousal took over, as his penis rose and he began to masturbate with a dirty smile.

Stephen's alarm went off at 9am and he couldn't wait any longer to bring Imogen to his flat and decorate her. Still in bed and dick in hand, he pulled his Macbook onto his chest and loaded her file onto the Master Program. He chose to cum violently into his sheets when he saw her shower, waiting until she was out before commanding her to come to his flat, under the same conditions as yesterday. It would take her about 20 minutes to get to his place, so he showered quickly, and put on some clothes, still feeling that being naked while she was in a trance was too creepy for him. He programmed her to wear something he would like, only specifying that it should bare her waist, and then toggled her clothes off, so that it was a surprise when she arrived.

He went online and browsed some tattoo designs for a few minutes when he heard her voice over the buzzer, "Hey Julie, just stepped out and realised I forgot my keys." He buzzed her in and waited so eagerly that he was actually rocking in his chair, staring at her naked form. He leapt up from his chair the moment the door knocked and he rushed over to open it. He let out a sigh of pure ecstasy when he saw her outfit; she wore red shoes with metal stiletto heels that were no shorter than 4 inches, three-quarter length black leggings and a white cotton top that loosely draped over her extraordinarily large breasts. He observed her walk in and mechanically deposit her bag by the door. He forced down the erection that sprung up when he observed that her entire midriff was exposed; the leggings were low-riding, and the top finished in-line with her belly-button, or rather, it would have had her enormous chest not helped to heave the fabric up a couple of inches.