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It was strange to see Christine carry Jeffrey from her car and into Betty Cavendish's house.
Jeffrey was thin but very tall, and now of course he had those flared hips and big boobs.
Yet Christine carried him like he was a doll up the driveway and through the front door.
Stranger still, she passed him without so much as a groan into Betty's waiting arms.
"Thank you, oh, thank you," Betty sobbed as she raced up the stairs, showing no more effort than Christine with her burden.
Christine turned to Carrie and smiled. "I'll need to help her for a few minutes. She opened her purse and pulled out a pair of white goggles with attached earphones. "You can wait in the living room. Put these on - there's a sort of orientation video. It explains everything a lot faster than I can."
Carrie stared at the goggles. "Are those going to hypnotize me?"
Christine laughed. "No, I told you: no more hypnosis. It just tells you what you need to know. You can ask the woman on the video questions, and she'll answer them. No tricks, no lies. Just the truth. I think you can handle that now."
Carrie took the goggles.
Christine touched Carrie's cheek. "There are wonders. You'll see." She turned and went up the stairs.
Carrie stared at the goggles and walked into the living room.
She almost screamed when she saw David Cavendish standing in the middle of the room.
She remembered Mr. Cavendish, Betty's husband, from church.
He had changed.
David Cavendish had seemed tall and imposing when she had seen him in church.
He was tall, but no longer imposing.
David Cavendish was dressed in a black latex bodysuit from his neck down to his toes. It looked slick as if it was coated in some sort of lubricant.
His head was shaved, even his eyebrows were gone, and his skin looked pale in contrast to the inky black outfit.
He stared at the floor.
The crotch of the suit was open, and his small cock was trapped in a gleaming silver chastity.
"Mistress, I am David Scum di Cavendish. I was abusive to my goddess, and now I serve. I am Sub Slut class, Whore Caste. How may I serve you, Mistress?" His words were oddly slurred.
Carrie stared in shock. "I... I don't need anything."
"I have been modified for your pleasure," he said, eyes still on the floor.
He opened his mouth.
Carrie took an involuntary step back.
David Cavendish's glistening tongue slid out of his mouth. The pink flesh was easily a foot long, covered in bumps and protrusions like a dildo. It moved sinuously, like a snake, curling side to side and then up and down. The tongue throbbed and pulsed, vibrating and twisting.
"N... No... thank you."
The tongue slid slowly back into his mouth and he closed his pale lips. "As you wish, Mistress."
"You can... go," she said. Feeling ridiculous dismissing the man in his own house.
"Yes, Mistress." He bowed and walked out of the room.
Carrie watched him leave.
Then she sat down on the overstuffed couch.
How could they do that to someone?
Carrie thought. Had he consented to being made into a rubber suited freak? Somehow she doubted it.
She stared at the goggles, unsure if she wanted to put them on - not that she was afraid of the video, no, she was suddenly terrified that Mr. Cavendish would come back in the room while her eyes were covered.
But, her curiosity won out.
She put the goggles over her eyes and fit the earphones over her ears.
***
It was disorienting as the Cavendish living room disappeared.
A spinning pink and blue SlutzNet logo spun against a black background. It was three-dimensional, and she felt like she could reach out and touch it.
White noise hissed in her ears as the screen went black.
Slowly, the light returned.
She was sitting on a couch in a brightly lit, airy living room. Outside, ocean waves crashed on a perfect beach.
That much made sense - it was an artificial reality projected into her eyes and broadcast to her ears.
What didn't make sense was that she could smell the ocean. She could feel the warm beach breeze blowing through the open windows.
"There are subcarriers, both audio and video. The impulses are jumping across your synapses, stimulating olfactory nerves and your sense of touch," a woman's voice said.
Carrie turned her head to the right.
A woman was sitting in a chair across from the couch. She was beautiful, with kind brown eyes and long brown hair. The woman wore a dress that appeared to be made out of white gauze, and her naked body was clearly visible through the flimsy fabric.
Around her neck was a white choker with an inverted pentagram medallion hanging from it.
"My name is Cum Slut Cathy."
Carrie almost laughed.
"I know. Silly. Lots of us, especially the first of us, have silly names. Officially, my name is Cathy Greene di Hecate. Designation Perverter - also known as a White Witch. Whore Caste. I'm the second White Witch they made after Maria Marapova."
"I don't know what any of that means," Carrie whispered.
"No, but you'll have answers soon."
"Where am I?"
"This is my Mistress Hecate's house in Havana."
Carrie wrinkled her brow. "Are you real?"
Cathy laughed. "Sort of. Cathy is real, and, I'm a complete copy of Cathy's mind housed in a part of the SlutzNet AI - talking to me is just like talking to the real Cathy. In the beginning, we tried to let SlutzNet handle orientation all on his own but, well, he's a bit cold. People reacted better when they talked to me." She reached out and took Carrie's hand. "You can ask me anything, Carrie. I'll only tell you the truth."
Carrie stared at Cathy's hand in hers. It was so real! Her skin was soft and warm, her grip firm but comfortable.
"Mr. Cavendish? Why did you people do that to him?" Carrie asked.
Cathy paused for a moment. "Sometimes things aren't as they seem. Did you like Mr. Cavendish?"
"Yeah, he seemed nice..."
"There's that word.
Seemed
. Mr. Cavendish used to hurt his wife. He broke her wrist twice, her nose once. He was abusive, though she did everything she could to hide it from everyone around her - but, you can't keep secrets from us, Carrie. We can read minds."
"So, that's why you turned him into a... sub slut?"
Cathy shook her head. "No. We're rarely that kind. Normally, a man like him would have been treated much more harshly. Strangely enough, Betty Cavendish begged us to turn him into what he is. She saved him. Love is... complicated." She looked away and there was more than a little pain in her eyes. "We don't choose who we love."
"How did you get involved in this?" Carrie asked.
Cathy smiled. "I used to live in a place called Latigo Key - it's in Florida. Have you heard of it?"
Carrie thought for a moment. "Yeah. In school, we studied it. Everyone on the island disappeared overnight. They called it the second Roanoke colony. But, that was twenty years ago. You must have been a kid."
Cathy laughed. "I haven't aged in twenty years. As a matter of fact, I was in my late thirties then. How old do I look now?"
"I don't know. Twenty-five?"
"We're immortal, Carrie. You're going to be immortal as well. All of your friends, too. You'll be with them forever. No one is ever going to grow old or get sick or die."
"Even slaves like Mr. Cavendish?"
Cathy frowned. "Yes."
"That's cruel."
"Yes." Cathy squeezed her hand. "No system is perfect..."
"Slavery isn't right."
"Neither is abuse."
"Yeah, but I have a feeling we're all going to be slaves, aren't we? Even if we've never hurt anyone."
