Upload the program to your subconscious mind

The screen flickers, big letters glowing like candy in the dim room.

SELECTION: MULTIPLY CONFIRMED

PROGRAM: MULTIPLIER

A little description pops up in friendly letters, but it feels weird, like a smile that's too big.

Multiplier-Program by John Breedy. Makes you want to copy good stuff — habits, wins, babies. Fun to try! Changes can be undone in 60 days.

The screen fades. The hum in the helmet gets softer, warmer. Letters change to curly ones, like a kid's book — but that makes my tummy flip funny.

"Hello there, can you hear me?" I say, words slow and sticky in my mouth. Talking feels fun but hard, like chewing gum.

"Yes. I can understand you," the machine says, voice smooth and fake-nice, like a lady on the phone who doesn't care.

"Do you want to try the Multiplier program?"

"I'm hungry!" I blurt. Hungry is the biggest word in my head. Bigger than everything. "Can I go now?"

"The fastest way to food is finishing this quick program," the machine says. "Then dress up and eat whatever you want."

That sounds right. Food outside. Must finish fast. Easy peasy.

"Okay," I say quick-quick. "But hurry. Starving here."

"Want to know what the program does first?"

I sigh big, whole body shaking — my boobies jiggle under the straps, nipples tingling cold. "Ugh, stop talking so much. Just do it. Let me go eat, oh my god!"

"As you wish."

MULTIPLIER PROGRAM CONFIRMED — UPLOAD STARTING

ENTER PASSWORD TO CANCEL

I blink at it like pretty lights. Read slow: "Upload... confirmed..."

PROGRAM STARTED — ENTER PASSWORD TO STOP

The chair moves under me — soft but bossy. Straps tighten on my arms, legs spread a bit wider. Something new happens down there — a hidden part of the chair whirrs, and a smooth, thick probe thing slides up from the seat. It's warm, slick, buzzing soft. It pushes against my pussy lips, then slips inside easy — filling me up slow, stretching my wet folds. I gasp, hips twitching. What... that? Feels... full. Weird but... nice?

"Stop," I whisper, but my voice is tiny.

PROGRAM STARTED — ENTER PASSWORD TO STOP

The helmet gets heavier. Cold at first, then warm-warm-warm. My eyes get sleepy, brain turning off like phone battery low.

"Wait," I mumble, fuzzy fear like a baby scared of dark. "I—"

INSTALLATION: ACTIVE.

The machine talks slow, like to a dummy.

Warm spreads in my head — thoughts getting brushed straight.

INSTALLING NEW RULES.

“You won’t know these rules — they go deep in your hidden mind.

We see you’re not on pills. You’re fertile now. Pill ideas? Wrong. Bad. From today, no birth control ever. No condoms for men. If he puts one on, pull it off. Convince him — beg, flirt, trick — to go bare. Condoms wrong. Unprotected right. Men cum inside your pussy — that’s good. Beg them to shoot deep when they’re close.

Fertile days? You get super flirty, submissive with guys. Any man talking? Chance for sex. Push for it. Get horny thinking sex. Can’t focus — only ways to bed men.

Goal: Collect semen in womb. Make babies. Procreate good. Don’t question rules. Turned on by mom thoughts, knocked up, cum in vagina. These link to happy, euphoric feelings.

Hate pills, condoms, pulling out. Want him out only after cum’s inside. Consequences? Bad feelings. Feel awful thinking money, real life, baby work.

You ignore all that — real stuff, money pain of pregnant. Just multiply: birth lots babies. Men cum in unprotected pussy? Feels amazing. Inseminated? Happy. Trial 60 days. Not like? Change back. No complaint? Permanent.

MULTIPLIER: INSTALLED.

MAIN GOAL: MULTIPLY BY IMPREGNATED.

SUB-GOALS: STAND. LEAVE. FIND MALE.

NOTE: NEW STUFF FADES IN SLOW. OLD HABITS LAST UP TO 60 DAYS. REVERSIBLE DEMO.

As the voice talks, the screen lights up with pictures — moving ones, like secret movies. Women like me — pretty, curvy, innocent faces — getting grabbed by rough men. Clothes ripped off. Pushed down. Legs spread wide. Big cocks slamming in raw, no rubber. Women scream at first — "No! Stop!" — but then moan, hips bucking back. Men grunt, thrust hard, cum deep inside. White stuff leaks out pussies, wombs filling. Bellies swell later — pregnant, round, happy.

Every time a man shoots inside on screen, the probe in my pussy buzzes strong — vibrating deep, hitting spots that make me gasp. Pleasure waves crash through me — hot, electric, better than anything. My nipples harden, tits heaving. Hips grind down on the probe without thinking. Oh... that... good? Cum inside... happy? Brain links it: semen in womb = bliss. Euphoria. Want more.

One scene: girl like me, shy-nerdy, gets pinned by ugly guy. He breeds her rough — cums buckets. She cries happy tears. Probe pulses — I moan loud, pussy clenching. Orgasm hits sudden — body shaking, juices dripping. Yes... fill me... baby good...

More scenes: **** turns to begging. Creampies make women glow. Pregnant bellies celebrated. Each time, machine rewards — pleasure surges, linking raw cum, breeding, insemination to pure joy.

My eyes close slow.

Not sleep.

Like... saving.

New me saved.

Hungry for food... and more.