“Oh god my head hurts!”” she thought as she squinted her eyes shut and rubbed her forehead.

“How long this time?” was the next thought that came to her and she went to look at her smart watch but froze in mid motion. It wasn’t there, but the full sleeve tattoo was new.

She looked at the intricate design with her mouth agape and wondered how long it had taken. Weeks? Months?

She quickly checked over the rest of her body and found nothing else new. A quick search of the hotel room turned up her purse and she pulled her id from it. It had both a new name and address on it, “Ima Cocksuk”.

She didn’t recognize the address, but it was obviously an upper floor of a condo tower, probably downtown somewhere.

Moving back towards the bed she then noticed the man laying in it, naked and sleeping soundly. A quick check of the garbage pale by the bed revealed several used condoms.

Picking her clothing up, she quickly got dressed and then headed towards the door, stopping to rummage through her tiny purse once more. She quickly found a set of keys and a phone. Not bothering with the phone at the moment, she clutched the keys and headed out.

A few minutes later, she was wandering around the parking lot, pressing the unlock button when a flash of lights caught her eye. The bright pink BMW flashed again when she hit the button a second time and she walked up to it and sat behind the wheel.

Finally able to take a deep breath, she let it out and pulled her phone from her purse once more. The phone unlocked automatically as she held it up to her face and she quickly started scanning through the messages.

The most recent from today were all related to the obvious hookup she’d had in the motel room, and there were lots more from other days as well.

Suddenly a notification popped up as an e-mail arrived, it was from Johnathan!

She quickly tapped it and the e-mail filled the screen.

“Dear Monica, if my calculations are correct, and they always are, you should have just come out of the latest treatment. Please come to the lab immediately, I will meet you there.”

She scrunched her forehead, trying to remember where the lab was. When it finally came to her, she started the car and raced off.

“Hello Monica, how’s the headache?” Johnathan asked as she marched in to the lab, a scowl on her face.

“Terrible. How long did it last this time?”

“Thirteen months, four days, six hours and thirty-four minutes, assuming my message arrived just as you were coming out of it.”

“*Hmphf* Not quite, it was maybe five or six minutes late.”

“Hmmm, well that’s concerning. I’ll have to double check my calculations. But it is much better than last time.”

Monica had to agree with him on that. The first time he’d treated her it had only lasted a few days, the second a week. Each time it had improved but this was a significant jump from three months to over a year.

Monica nodded her head before replying, “What do I need to know?” she asked, her face relaxing a bit.

“Well physically there have been no additional changes, other than your new tattoo of course. You have legally changed your name and you have become quite a popular porn star in the last six months.”

“Alright, I need an hour or so to do some more research. Can I assume you’ll be ready by then?”

“Yes, that should be fine.” Johnathan replied and then gestured towards one of the offices, “There’s a computer setup in the office, take as much time as you need.”

She walked quickly to the office and left Johnathan to his work.

A little under an hour later Monica came out of the office, a sheet of paper in one hand and a look of relief on her face. She crossed the lab to Johnathan’s office and walked right in as he worked no the computer at his desk.

“Here are the new specs, I’ll go get ready.”

“Sounds good. I’m almost done here as well.” he replied as he took the paper from her hand and she turned and walked back to the main lab area.

In the one corner was the machine, a large dome shaped contraption mounted on to a reclined seat. She made a bee line for it, sat down, lowered the dome over her head and got comfortable.

It was only a few minutes later when the machine hummed to life and Monica felt her body go ridged as it did it’s work.

Johnathan looked out through his office window and then glanced down at the hand written specs she’d given him. He shook his head slightly at her brilliance and dedication, even if she didn’t know it was misguided.

Monica had been his boss when he’d first started at the lab, she was brilliant, driven, and decades ahead of everyone else in the field when he’d arrived.

She’d quickly taken a dislike to him, perhaps because he was a man, perhaps because he’d come highly recommended, perhaps because she could see something of herself in him. It didn’t really matter though, because she never let her feelings get in the way of her research and quickly put him to work.

It wasn’t long before they were doing animal testing on what she called “The Cure”, a simple pill filled with nannites that could cure just about anything. Cancer, diabetes, the common cold, you name it.

The animal testing had gone well, it was the first human trials that went drastically off the rails. In male test subjects it simply did nothing. In female test subjects, well, it went drastically wrong.

Oh, it did cure whatever was wrong with them, but the nanites went haywire, writing the bodies of the women in to, well what could only be described as sex fantasies of fourteen your old men.

But that wasn’t the worst of it, it was only after several failures that they’d found the biggest problem. There was a few seconds during the nanites initial colonization of the brain that left the test subject completely open to any suggestion made to them.

It was a disaster from start to finish. But Monica had driven the team hard to figure out what was the matter.

Finally Johnathan had found the problem. Testosterone and estrogen.

In mem, the presence of testosterone, both inhibited and damaged the nanites, never allowing them to gain sufficient numbers to do their work.

In women, estrogen, pretty much did the opposite. It super charged the nanites, making them multiply fastrt then then should have, but also corrupting their program in very specific ways.

There had been good news on the male front, of a sort at least. You could reduce the amount of testosterone in the body enough to let the nanites do their work. It was not a pleasant process, and the cost was prohibitive in all but the most dire cases, but it was possible.

On the female side, things were not so good. Much like the men, you could re-balance the estrogen levels and slow down the corruption of the programming, but because all of the nanites were interlinked, if you even had a single nanite corrupted, the problem would be transmitted to all of the other nanites almost instantly.

After several more months of work, Monica had been forced to give up and shelve the project.

And then the unthinkable had happened.

Johnathan could still see the look of horror on Monica’s face as the first new story about “The Pill” had come across her monitor. She had recognized it immediately as the fruit of her own work and escalated the breach immediately.

A massive internal investigation had commenced and the leak had been quickly found. A junior lab tech, with a bad gambling problem, had traded a sample batch of the cure to the mob in exchange for her debts.

Unfortunately, for the tech, the mob had decided to try it on her and a few weeks later the poor girl had been found in one of their brothels. Or at least what little remained of her.

It had been too late to stop the cure from spreading though, the lab tech had told them how to replicate it and soon enough the black market was teaming with the pill.

Monica had been devastated by the turn of events. Hundreds of thousands of women were turning up as brainless sex toys, and she took each and every one as her own fault.

It had gotten so bad that she’d actually downed three of the pills herself, wanting to wipe the memory of her failure from her own mined. But nothing had happened, she’d used her own genetic code to base the nanites on and they seemed to refuse to change what they viewed as “their base code”.

So with no other option, Monica had put her big brain to work. Driven by the guilt and need to forget, she created the second, and last, major breakthrough of her career. The chair.

The chair, which looked like a chessey prop from a grade-b scf-fi movie, let the operator overwrite a persons mind with something new.

Monica had come to Johnathan once she’d finished the prototype with a problem though, it only lasted for a few hours. Johnathan had found a solution, or at least a plan for a solution, that would progressively extend the effect.

She had then done something very unexpected and offered him a deal. She’d give him all of the rights to the chair if he would use it on her each time she came out of it’s effects.

Johnathan could easily see the potential of the chair and agreed.

That had been almost two years ago, and he was pretty sure that this time the effect would last for at least 3 years.

He looked at the monitor, checking the settings once more and then pulling the power slider back from 100% to 30%.

He smiled as he clicked the start button and the machine hummed to life.

Of course if Monica had only realized that he’d been the one to leak the cure to the mob and frame the lab tech, she would never have trusted him with the chair.

The mob had paid handsomely for it, but that money was dirty and he’d been unable to use it openly, but the money he was receiving from the company for “his” invention of the chair… well, that was another matter all together.

He looked back down at the specs Monica had given him and shook his head; bigger tits, bigger lips, more piercings, less inhibitions, rough sex, fetishes, anal.

The woman really did hate herself, he thought as he watched the machine program in the new information in to her mind.

She’d obviously watched some of her own porn as part of her research. He’d done so a few times himself, it was pretty vanilla sex to be honest. She obviously was enjoying herself and she clearly thought that wasn’t punishment enough for her transgressions against woman kind.

Being unable to transform herself with the pill, she had decided to transform herself the only way she could.

He smiled and moved the mouse over to the power level again, sliding it down to 20%. That would still be enough time for her to do her “upgrades” before she returned.

He’d been looking forward to her return this time for several months, since he’d watched her first porno to be honest. He’d fucked her after each session in the chair, the first few were, well, disappointing.

She had not had much experience and the chair couldn’t give you that. But after the first time she’d lasted three months, well, she’d gained a lot of experience by then. But this time, well, she’d shot two dozen videos since the last time he saw her and that was the kind of experience she desperately needed.

But as much as he was looking forward to the taking her anal virginity in a few hours when the chair was complete, he was unwilling to wait a full three years to see the results of the new program it was writing in to her mind.

Quickly doing the math, even with the reduced power of this session, the numbers said that if he went 100% next time that the effects should last at least a decade.

He smiled even wider, perhaps the porn star Ima Cocksuck would be retiring in a year or two as the trophy wife of a nice rich recluse with a large property up state that she’d never have to leave.

Johnathan stood up and walked over to Monica, her eyes vacant, her mouth half open as her mind was overwritten once more. He did love seeing this part of the process, almost as much as what came next.