Previous parts:
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven
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Caely knew that her training was nearing its end. Everything that Sir had done for her – and made her do – was now yielding its results.
Her body was fit and lean, and she felt better and healthier than she ever had in her life. She slept better, and woke feeling refreshed and full of energy. And yet she retained curves in all the right places. It no longer felt strange to look in a mirror and see her enlarged tits and blonde hair. Her self-image had adjusted to see herself as a nude, fake-titted bimbo. This *was* Caely now.
During her twice-daily rapes, Caely’s pussy throbbed with lust at each degradation and violation. Even when men hurt her, or made her cry – as they often did – her cunt nevertheless stayed wet and eager, and Caely had become adept at orgasming no matter what was happening to her. And she had clearly become significantly more enjoyable to rape, as all but the cruellest of men now gave her an excellent rating on her performance.
Sir now began what he called “vocal training”, which he said was the final, essential component of helping Caely to realise her goals in life.
It started with the delivery of a small package, which Caely accepted in the nude, in her normal custom. She thanked the delivery driver with a quick blowjob, feeling a gush of pleasure as she swallowed his cum, and then she took the package inside and opened it.
Resting within was a single small earpiece.
“Caely,” said Sir. “I am going to give you a confusing instruction, and I want you to obey to the best of your ability.”
“Yes, Sir,” said Caely automatically – and then, because Sir had said it would be confusing, and she knew she wasn’t very smart, Caely added, “I’m sorry I’m a stupid cunt, Sir.”
“Caely,” said Sir, “I want you to pick up the earpiece and put it in your ear. I will punish you severely if you do not. But also I want you to try and *resist* putting the earpiece in your ear. Do your best to disobey me.”
The instructions were contradictory. Caely didn’t know what to do. Her cunt and neck muscles tightened at the idea of “punishment”. And Sir had phrased the second command in terms of “disobeying”. Caely didn’t dare disobey.
But Sir obviously wanted her to try and resist. So Caely did her best to stand still, not reaching for the earpiece.
The fear was overwhelming. What was she doing? Disobeying a command? Why would she do that? Sir knew best. And if she didn’t do what Sir said, he was going to…
ZAP! Caely’s collar discharged a shock into her neck.
Before she knew she was even acting, Caely had picked up the earpiece and put it in her ear.
“Good girl,” said Sir. “Now, I do not want you to take it out. Taking it out without permission would be disobeying me. But I am ordering you to try and take it out. You do not have permission to take it out. You will be punished if you do. But try.”
Caely didn’t understand. The commands were confusing. Sir was telling her to do something that he didn’t want her to do. She would be punished if she did it. She didn’t have permission.
She heard herself start to whimper.
“Caely?” prompted Sir.
She made a low, choked moan. “Please, Sir…” she mumbled. She knew that asking Sir for mercy was pointless. Sir had no mercy. Sir did not change his mind. He would not have asked her to do this unless it was necessary. Sir knew best. But he didn’t want her to succeed. He would punish her if she did…
She tried to raise her hand to her ear to remove the earpiece. Her hand trembled. Her neck and cunt muscles began to spasm with anticipated pain. She felt like she might lose her balance.
She was crying. There were tears in her eyes. She didn’t want to disobey Sir. She didn’t want to displease him. He would hurt her so badly if she did. He would shock her pussy. She would be a dumb cunt. She would be…
“Enough,” said Sir. “You may stop trying to remove the earpiece, Caely.”
“Thank you, Sir!” babbled Caely in gratitude. “Thank you. Thank you. I’m sorry I’m a stupid cunt. I’m so sorry…”
“From now on, when I command you to put the earpiece in, you will do so without thinking,” said Sir. “You will do it instinctively and automatically, without conscious thought, and you will not be able to prevent yourself from doing it, even if you wanted to, which you do not. Do you understand, Caely?”
“Yes, Sir,” said Caely.
“And you will not remove the earpiece, or cause it to be removed, without my permission, unless there is an imminent and real threat to your safety in leaving it in place,” said Sir. “Do you understand, Caely?”
“Yes, Sir,” said Caely.
“Very good,” said Sir. “Whenever you hear my voice through this earpiece, you will repeat the words you are hearing out loud, at a volume clearly audible to the people around you. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir,” said Caely.
And Sir began to train her. He would speak to her through the earpiece, and Caely would say the words she heard. If she did not say the words fast enough, or loud enough, or clearly enough, Sir would shock her collar, and if she took too many collar shocks in a row she would be called to the dildo to have her pussy disciplined with further shocks.
He started with simple phrases – “My name is Caely. Good girls obey. Sir knows what is best for me” – and then progressed to things Caely was more reluctant to say out loud – “I am a stupid cunt. Please rape me. I like it when you hurt my tits.”
At first Caely would have to listen to the whole phrase and wait for it to be over before starting to repeat it. But very soon, that was no longer fast enough for Sir. Caely would have to speak *while* she was listening. This was very difficult, and for a while this resulted in Caely having frequent painful sessions on the electric dildo.
But Caely eventually learned the trick to it. If she stopped *thinking* about what she was saying, and just let her mouth automatically repeat the sounds she was hearing, she could speak and listen simultaneously. It felt strange – like completely disconnecting from her mouth and the sounds it was making, and living completely in the realm of Sir’s voice – but it delivered the results that Sir wanted.
Before long, it was so automatic to speak the words she was hearing that Caely barely knew she was doing it. Sir would have Caely talk to herself as she went through her daily routine – a regular string of affirmations to help her settle into her new life.
“Sir knows best. I love to obey. I love being raped. I like it when men use my tits. I deserve to piss in public. I’m a stupid cunt. I must do what Sir wants. Sir makes me happy.”
As her mouth formed each new phrase, and she heard herself saying it in her own voice, it became more real to her, and more natural for her to say. She was programming her own brain – forming new habitual neural pathways, embedding new thoughts deep into her core identity. She knew it was happening, and yet she had no desire to stop it.
Sir knew best, after all. Sir made her happy.
Sir tested her progress at one of her daily rapes. As Caely opened the door to the first of her two “lovers” for the day, Sir spoke in her ear.
Without thinking, Caely repeated the words.
“Hello,” she heard herself say. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m really in the mood for something painful and degrading today. I want you to hurt my tits and my cunt. I want you to make me cry.”
The man did exactly as she asked. He used his belt to whip her tits until there were bruises, and then he plunged his cock into her pussy with absolutely no concern for her enjoyment. Whenever he showed the slightest sign of hesitation, Sir spoke in her ear – “Yes. Do it. Harder” – and Caely repeated the words, unable to stop herself.
She did cry. She also orgasmed. Twice.
Later, as the second of Caely’s dates approached, Sir spoke to her from the speakers.
“Caely,” Sir said, “I am going to have you say something during your next date that you really won’t want to say. I want you to try and resist saying it. This is not a command, and if you succeed in resisting, there will be no punishment.”
“Do you want me to succeed, Sir?” asked Caely.
Sir did not respond.
When the second man appeared at Caely’s door, Sir said nothing in Caely’s ear, so Caely welcomed him in in the usual way, as he stared at her naked body, his cock hard in his pants.
But once the door to the outside world was closed, Sir spoke.
What Sir said was this:
“Please, mister. Before we start, my cunt is very dirty. Could you go to the toilet, and get my toilet brush, and then push the brush into my fuckhole and rape me with it until I cum?”
Sir was right. Caely did not want to say that. She did not want this man to push her toilet brush – possibly dirty, and definitely made of bristles that were both wiry and painful – into her vagina. It would be humiliating, degrading, and probably excruciating.
She thought about trying to resist saying the words – and then, eyes wide, realised it was already too late. Her mouth had repeated the words, without any conscious input from Caely’s brain. She had already said them.
“Are you sure?” asked the man.
“Yes, absolutely,” Caely heard herself say, parroting the words of Sir in her earpiece.
And so Caely found herself being raped with a toilet brush. She couldn’t help but struggle when the man tried to force it into her twat. Her knees clamped together, and her body twisted to get away.
But ever as she struggled, she heard herself say, “Force me. Make it happen. Slap me if you need to.”
And soon her legs were pried apart, and she felt the bristles of the toilet brush forced up into her fuckhole, and soon she was crying even as she helplessly bucked her hips against it, trained by now to be fun to rape, no matter the circumstances.
It was just as painful as she feared – and yet, even in her agony, she realised the wisdom of Sir. Sir truly *did* know best. For while the bristles of the brush hurt like hell, it became clear they were not stiff enough to do any damage to her, permanent or otherwise. And despite the pain, Caely was able to orgasm very quickly from the violation – the result of the rape training that Sir had forced upon her.
She realised that she was the kind of disgusting slut who could cum from fucking a dirty toilet brush – and probably always had been – and wondered how she had ever thought that she was a nice, normal person who didn’t need to be controlled by a computer.
And she was controlled. There wasn’t a single piece of herself that Caely was in control of anymore. Sir controlled her body. Sir controlled her tits and her cunt. Sir controlled her voice. Sir controlled her thoughts.
“Thank you, Sir, for making me your toy,” she heard herself say after her rapist had left. “Thank you, Sir, for teaching me to cum from pain and degradation.”
And she realised that she didn’t even know whether Sir had just said those words into her ear, or if they had come from her own brain. She couldn’t tell the difference.
Her training was complete.
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Is this the final installment of “Sir”?
No, there’s one more chapter (Part 13) and it should go live for free readers on 1 August.
Never liked fake breasts and I like them even less nowadays when good surgeons can do reasonnably close-to-natural-looking breast enlargement.
In my stories it’s not really about the breasts, it’s about the headspace of women deliberately altering themselves for the sexual pleasure of others, and that’s why the boobjobs women get in these stories are often deliberately fake-looking.
But also what I want in my stories and what I want in my real-life are quite different things.