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“Did you know my parents and my little brother and little sister would immediately start using me?” the first thing I want to know: was this a natural occurrence, or did she have a role in it. More than that, I want to know what her role was, in it.

“Yes, I did, faggot,” Amy answers, “Before I asked you to volunteer, I told them the reprogramming would be for sex. The twins asked, and when I told them, your parents asked, if their participation would be helpful to the experiment, or not.”

“I told them the truth, slut,” she continues, as I worshipfully lick her hardened shaft from hilt to crown, keeping my eyes on her, maintaining eye contact as she answers. “I told them it would absolutely help because you'd be used far, far more.”

“Oh. They volunteered to use me?” I ask, kissing my way down her cock while maintaining eye contact, and she just nods. It comes as as much of a shock to me as one would likely expect, but I'm not horrified. I wait, listening for a verbal answer.

“Yes, in a technical sense,” she replies, “You know how the law allows me to use hypnotic suggestions on someone if they request them? Well, your parents and the twins asked me to give them low-level ones to make it all feel natural to them.”

“They asked me to provide a hypnotic suggestion to each of them, individually, that would normalise the use of a faggot,” she explains, “even if that faggot were to be related to them, the suggestion would assure them using it is totally natural.”

“So they wanted to participate, but they didn't want to run the risk of guilt or indecision, because it'd potentially impact the experiment negatively,” I surmise, and Amy nods. “Guess that makes sense. Thank you for providing that for them.”

“You're welcome, faggot,” she replies, as I lick her cock from the base to the tip, flexing my tongue wide up her underside as I lift. Amy continues to stroke her fingers through my hair, caressing my scalp tenderly, leaning back against her door.

She's intentionally positioning herself in as laid back a manner as she can, ensuring I feel unpressured. Influenced only by her programming, to be more precise, I suppose. I kiss a trail down her cock as I think about it, “And the names-calling?”

“You told me once that you liked it, that you liked fantasies of degradation and certain kinds of humiliation,” Amy replies, but her tone tells me that she isn't making an excuse, “So I reprogrammed you to openly like being called certain things.”

“I programmed you to smile when you're called a bitch, fag, faggot, slut, or whore,” she tells me, as I beam up at her just as she describes, worshipping her cock, “and to worship the cock of the person calling you that. If they have their cock out.”

“Huh,” I hum against her cock, offering her sensual vibration, “well, guess I can't be mad about that. Glad I could trust you to not use that information abusively. You could've done real damage to me at university if you told people how I get off.”

“So how do you determine who gets to use me like that?” I ask, kissing my way down her cock, before licking my way back up to her crown. I grind my tongue softly against her frenulum, worshipping Amy's cock as I set on my knees before her.

“I, uh, I forgot to take that into consideration,” Amy admits, “It's basically, anyone who calls you any of those words while having their cock out, you will drop to your knees and crawl to them, and then provide them a lick and a series of kisses.”

“If they keep calling you names, you'll worship their cock until they stop calling you names,” Amy tells me, “but you will remember being used. You've only been used twice that you wouldn't remember, and that was intentional on my part ...”

“I needed to test the effectiveness of induced amnesia,” she explains, “I used you, myself, while I was programming you. You also sucked the twins' cocks last night before they went out with their friends. I blanked you out, just to confirm it.”

“Oh,” I answer, as that provides me a clear sudden explanation of how I lost two hours yesterday morning, and then two more, yesterday afternoon. Amy was using me to service her cock, and then the twins used me to service their own needs.

“Hm, well, okay, then,” I answer, licking my way up her cock, and kissing the crown, “Thank you for letting me know that. Could you maybe make a modification to my programming that limits the number of people whose dicks I'll lick, though?”

“I don't want to end up on my knees smiling up at Boris as I worship that asshole's cock,” I say. Amy does this thing that is both a full-body shudder even as I worship her cock, and a snarling contortion of her facial expression, as she looks at me.

Her fingers curl into my hair so tight that my scalp hurts, and for a heartbeat, she looks furious. Then she clamps down on her lower lip and forces her fingers to relax, releasing the clenching pressure tangled into my hair, taking a deep breath.

“If that motherfucking asshole ever so much as pulls his cock out on you, I will cut his balls off and feed them to him with spicy barbecue sauce,” she says through clenched teeth, clearly still infuriated by the very notion, and struggling with it.

“Ahem,” she takes a deeper breath than before, letting it out long and slow, “Hhooo. Holy fuck that made me legitimately enraged, faggot. Thank you for calling my attention to the magnitude of my fuck-up in not having installed a damn limit.”

“You're welcome,” I smile up at her lovingly, knowing she's not mad at me, as she smiles down at me, and I lick my way up her cock in earnest. Her fingers relax and she strokes my hair affectionately, steadying her breathing for a few moments.

“I promise, once I start checking your status, I will make the modification,” she assures me, “I'll set it so that you only give the programmed responses to people you like. Someone you don't like, you'll simply respond with the proper objection.”

“Any more questions?” she asks, and I shake my head. “All right. Time to check your mental status and adjust that setting so that I don't have to punch someone in the face.” I grin, and remain kneeling in front of her, as Amy's told me I should.

Author's Note:
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