Welcome to the second and (for now) final chapter of Rewiring a Recalcitrant Daughter. I have tried to leave the ending open enough to sustain an additional chapter or two if there is enough interest and I can conjure any up.
I am working on two stories, a single chapter concerning the unanticipated benefits of a Boy Scout merit badge, which should be posted soon, and a three chapter tale of a precocious young man who uses subliminal messages to restructure his family. He likes older women, none quite so much as his mother.
As always, all story characters engaged in sexual activities are eighteen years of age or older.
* * * *
Kahili woke with a start. The day before Jamie had come to her room and the two women had, for the first time, enjoyed each other on a proper bed. Kahili, body glowing, had watched Jamie leave, then drifted off to sleep in a pile of sweaty chaotic sheets. But it was not this bed. This bed was larger, more comfortable, covered with fluffy pillows. She was somewhere new.
Naked - she no longer felt discomfort being nude - Kahili explored the suite of rooms. Gone were the lifeless white antiseptic walls, these walls were painted white with a tinge of green and covered with lovely art. Gone was the unadorned functional furniture, replaced by beautiful antiques. She looked around, knowing she'd have disdained such overt femininity a few weeks before, but as the magnets in her choker hummed she wondered, why had she ever rejected such tasteful elegance? Beyond the exquisite dining room was an office, where a Queen Ann desk supported a computer. She picked The New York Times and Wall Street Journal off a Louis XIV three legged coffee table, checked the dates. If they were current, and genuine, she'd been imprisoned for six weeks.
She returned to her bedroom, opened a door to a well equipped home gym and small changing room whose armoire held several skin-tight leotards. She imagined how hot she'd look in them, wished she could have worn them for Jamie.
Next she slid open two French doors and scanned a room, closet would have been far too modest a term, full of clothes and a wall covered with shoes. The clothes, even the overtly sexy outfits, were classy. And, as the magnets buzzed, Kahili asked herself, as she had about the furniture, why had she ridiculed such clothes? Why had she had rejected such splendor in favor of a grunge look that she foolishly imagined embodied her rejection of her father and his bourgeoisie world?
Before she had the chance to explore further Kahili heard the door open and returned to the dining room. Misaki and Lopita were laying three trays on the table.
"Good morning Kahili, it's time for breakfast."
"What is all this?"
"Your principal wants a companion, someone to fully share life. We are going to re-integrate you into the world. You will dine with us, wear lovely clothes, learn about what is going on outside our facility, be readied for your new life."
Anger flaring, Kahili, adopting a sarcastic tone, said, "Am I supposed to be happy about this?"
Lopita said, "All sex-toys are happy, whether existing solely for their principals' sexual pleasure, or as gifts to prized clients, or as the world's most sought after prostitutes, or as companions. We simply have a greater capacity to feel pleasure."
"We?"
"I thought you knew. Like you, Misaki and I are sex-toys."
"You mean you went through this and are still willing to do it to others?"
Misaki said, "No, not like this, it was much more difficult for us. Dr. Wong was in the initial stages of his research, making great progress, but he needed more insight into brain chemistry. I was a graduate student at Tokyo University. He contacted me, said he'd read my research, was impressed, asked if I would visit his lab. You can imagine how I felt - he was the brilliant Dr. Wong - of course I would.
"I didn't know it, of course, but my first day there he started the process. After I agreed to work with him he continued it. It took much longer with me than you, and I was often sick - we 've learned so much since then - waking up in the middle of the night throwing up, unable to understand what was happening to me, but in the end I was a sex-toy, and like you, lost none of my skills or intelligence. In fact, I'm a better scientist. My memory is stronger and my devotion to Dr. Wong gives me so much focus. We've made so many advances.
"That's where I come in," Lopita said, "Dr. Wong and Misaki needed additional expertise in materials science. I was in my final year at Cambridge, having moved there from my native Nigeria, soon to earn my Ph.D., when they contacted me, said they'd read my work on buckyballs, asked if I was interested in working with them. Of course I was! Their published work was ground-breaking. I visited and they initiated the process. It was much easier for me than it had been for Misaki. Soon I, like Misaki, was a sex-toy, and that's when I was introduced to their more impressive unpublished work."
* * * *
Lopita and Misaki left. Their story was incredible. These brilliant accomplished women simply accepted their fate. Kahili had to find a way out before it was too late. The room filled with music, relaxing lovely music, a screen descended from the ceiling. On it was a beautiful woman sitting in a chair, rubbing a vibrator on her breasts and a dildo on her sex. The magnets lit up Kahili's brain and thoughts of rebellion melted away, no match for the overarching libido created over the last weeks. She moved to the couch facing the screen, picked a dildo and vibrator off the side table, examined the dildo, felt its heft and weight, admired the details: veins running up the sides, full balls, dimple where the piss-hole would be. She turned the vibrator on, brought it to her breast, dragged the head of the dildo along her pussy lips.
The woman on screen orgasmed, pushed the dildo into her sex.
Kahili orgasmed, did also.
The woman on the screen moved the vibrator to her clit, came, worked the vibrator and dildo together. Came, came again.
Kahili did also, came, and came again.
Holding the dildo inside herself, the women said, "Flex your cunt muscles, let them ripple on the cock, come over and over.
The woman on the screen came and came, worked the dildo with her cunt; Kahili did the same.
* * * *
Kahili, sprawled on her couch, mind abuzz with pleasure, decided to take advantage of her gym. After a hard two hour work-out she ran a bath, smelled the bubble baths on her vanity, put a generous portion of her favorite in the claw-footed tub, slipped into the water.
* * * *
Kahili picked out a short pink robe, then saw a lovely full length beveled oak dressing mirror in the corner of the closet. It was the first mirror she'd seen since her arrival and Kahili stared in stark amazement. Her pasty white skin was a vibrant pink. She leaned forward, dragged a finger along her cheek. Her skin had never been this firm, she could feel the oil on her fingertip. Her lips were fuller and her brown hair was now dark blonde and reached the middle of her back. She ran her hands through it, it was thick and full.
She stepped back. She was devoid of body hair and while she knew she'd put on weight, gained strength, that her breasts were larger, only know did she comprehend that the borderline pre-pubescent girl she'd been was gone forever. Now she was an adult: slim, lean, muscular, carrying 114 pounds on her five foot five, 34-24-36 body. She cupped her breasts: large and perfectly shaped, firm and round. Her pussy moistened. She sank a finger into herself; she was dripping wet.
She heard a mechanical sound in the living room. Carrying the robe, she sat on the couch and, as she watched a video of a beautiful young secretary making love to her silver-haired boss, brought herself off .
* * * *
After putting on her robe she went to her study, picked up the Wall Street Journal, a newspaper, its focus on her father's world of business and finance, she'd always despised. Now, as the magnets buzzed, she found it interesting, realized she'd never read it, hated it not for itself, but as a symbol of a world she didn't really understand.
After finishing it and The New York Times, she switched on her computer. While its access to the outside world was limited, it was loaded with courses on business and finance. Magnets pulsing, she'd picked out the most interesting, then heard the door to her quarters open. Misaki, wearing a Navy blue sequined lace cowl-neck gown, simple and elegant, and Lopita, wearing a vibrant red Ralph Lauren one-shoulder ruched gown, simple and sexy, entered.
"It's time for dinner."
Assembling at the closet, the women picked out Kahili's dress for the evening's dress. Magnets firing, Kahili thoroughly enjoyed herself: enjoyed the clothes, enjoyed taking the time to choose what to wear, enjoyed holding outfits in front of her body and discussing them with her companions, and loved the magenta flounce dress she decided to wear that evening.
Next they selected the lingerie, black and lacy, stockings, garter, and bra, and when Lopita saw Kahili peek at the cup size, she said, "I guess you've been wondering, you're a'D,' perfect for a sex-toy."
Misaki and Lopita helped Kahili apply minimal make-up - Kahili's skin and features required little - and Kahili, wearing four inch pumps, followed them through the maze of identical hallways to an elegant dining room. Waiting there was Dr. Wong and a rugged good-looking gentleman who introduced himself as the finance minster of New Zealand.
Unsure of what was going on, Kahili was initially quiet, listened to the free-flowing conversation, touching on politics, business, society. The man was funny and well-informed and Kahili, helped by the magnets, found the guest fascinating, joined in the conversation, then decided to take a chance.
"My name is Kahili Blondell, I am being held against my will. I need your help."
Openly admiring her beauty, the man said, "Yes, Dr. Wong told me you are a sex-toy in training. He is designing one for me. Your principal is very lucky; I hope mine is half as beautiful, half as charming as you."
At the phrase sex-toy Kahili felt that undeniable charge between her legs. Misaki reached for Kahili's hand, squeezed it, Kahili found comfort in her touch. Wong, Lopita, Misaki, and their guest continued the conversation. Kahili soon joined in.
* * * *
Back in her quarters Kahili replayed the evening in her mind and for the first time understood, she would not escape, her continued resistance would make no difference. She would end up like Misaki and Lopita and Jamie, she would be a sex-toy, she would serve her principal.
Her thoughts turned to their guest. He was older and handsome and she wondered: how big was his cock, was he a good fuck? She imagined it was big and that he knew how to use and that they would send him to her and he would fuck her. A real man's cock inside her, reaming her out, not the dildo she was, at the moment, pushing inside her hungry cunt.
