Jocelyn skipped in time to the beat of the music in the gym, her form perfect with each hop, as she grew ever closer and closer to her goals.
No, she admonished herself, they weren’t her goals, they were his. He’d placed them in her head months ago and she’d been trying to dig them out of her own subconscious ever since. It hadn’t worked though, they were so deeply buried in her mind that they had become the foundation on which her entire consciousness was built now.
It wouldn’t have been so bad if all he’d done was tell her to work out more. Like pretty much everyone, she’d always intended to get in shape, become healthier, etc. She’d just never found the motivation to do so.
He’d provided that in spades.
She was at the gym four, maybe five times a week. Ok, she had to admit that this was her sixth visit this week and she knew she wouldn’t go back to five, it was too easy to just give in to the desire to workout now.
The workout’s made her feel great, sending an endorphin rush through her with each new goal achieved. That was the good part of it, that feeling was addictive and she was nearing the goal which she knew would give her an even bigger hit.
No, the bad part was the fact that she knew this was only the beginning. He’d put other things in her mind, many of which she hadn’t yet found, but she had found a few.
Like a few weeks ago when she found herself browsing plastic surgery websites. That had been bad enough, but then last week she’d been looking up surgeons and even called one to arrange a consultation!
When the receptionist asked what she was looking to have done, she’d quickly repeated a list that included procedures on her breasts, lips, nose and buttocks. The receptionist had seemed surprised, but accommodating, getting her to repeat the humiliating list a second time.
“198… 199… 200.” her voice echoed in the room and she came to a stop and folded the skipping rope up. She then looked at herself in the mirror on the wall, turned a little to the side and slide her hand down her tight six pack before slipping it around behind her and doing the same with her ass.
The endorphin hit came again and her lower lip quivered as she closed her eyes and moaned a little.
She could only imagine what it would be like after the consult with the surgeon… or the surgery… or when he finally came back to claim her.
She let out a little whimper at the thought and then turned and rushed towards the locker room. No time to dawdle now, she had lots of studying to do tonight. She had never been in to makeup before, but now she spent hours watching videos on the Internet, learning everything she could about it.
Two nights ago she’d actually managed to get a proper set of smoky eye makeup done and afterward had managed to masturbate until she orgasmed multiple times as she watched herself in her makeup mirror. Last night had been a disaster and she was determined not to repeat that again.
The workouts, the surgery, the makeup, these were all things that she knew he’d implanted in her. But there were other things she wasn’t so sure about. She’d always liked fashion, but had she liked it this much? Was that implanted in her mind or just a consequence of the combination of the other things and her own original interest in it?
What about the orgasms? She had always had powerful orgasms before, but the ones she had now seemed… stronger? No, not stronger, just easier and faster… and were the multiple orgasms a result of his direct tinkering or just a byproduct of her hyper-sexualized state?
She shook her head and quickly changed, tossing her workout clothes in her bag and then heading to the showers. There was no way to know for sure she suspected, but in the end it didn’t matter. There was a whole table full of new makeup waiting for her at home, and if she was good enough, multiple orgasms to go along with it.
