Trigger Word Conditioning

For a moment, the world went pink. Lois blinked, as vivid letters echoed in her vision, a single word.

CROATOAN.

Immediately, Lois felt her cock twitch. A surge of sexual excitement went through her, completely out of place. Her body felt suddenly hot, skin flushed, ass clenching to drive more blood into her dick. The reporter's heart began to hammer as she realized her body was reacting outside her control.

"What...what is..." Lois stammered, suddenly confused.

"Initial trigger response positive." The computer's voice, exactly like Lois' own, sounded in both of her ears. The reporter frowned, tried to turn her head...and realized that it was encased in some kind of helmet, padded earpieces hovering just outside her ears. "Preparing for deep trigger conditioning. Relax."

And Lois did relax. Tension drained from her muscles, shoulders slumping into the chair, head pressed back...except she was aware, now, of the kind of helmet hoving over her head, leaving a slot so she could see the vast pink screen that encompassed her vision...and she could feel metal wires, very thin, just barely touch her head, like a scalp massager...but Lois doubted that was their purpose.

CROATOAN flashed on the screen.

Lois gasped as her cock jumped into sudden stiffness. Not the previous twitch, or swift engorgement, but a nearly instantaneous and painful transition, blood rushing into her crotch so that her erection stood tall and proud, aching for release. The reporter's heart thumped in her chest as though she was having a heart attack, body shivering at the suddenness of the transition. Pressure pounded at Lois' temples, pulsing against the little wires touching her, and still, she couldn't understand why she was having this kind of reaction.

The word faded from the screen...and Lois found she couldn't blink, couldn't look away from the scene it faded into. It was a point-of-view shot of an office environment...generic cubicles and dark blue carpet. Lois feet twitched, and the point of view moved forward.

Slowly, cautiously, the reporter experimented. Using her feet she could control the scene. Turned a complete circle, listening to the sounds of office life about her.

It's like a game. Lois realized.

Cautiously, she moved forward, through the office. She could hear a woman's voice, talking on the phone, to her left. The reporter turned...there was a redhead there, seated at her desk, just putting the phone back in the receiver. Lois took in her appearance in a glance: mousy features, glasses, small breasts, conservatively dressed in a modest knee-length skirt and a white blouse.

CROATOAN flashed on screen.

Lois gasped, erection suddenly painfully present, her insides nearly bursting from pressure, demanding release. The reporter's foot slipped and the POV lurched forward. On screen, Lois watched hand grasp the surprised office worker, yanking the red-head from her chair, pushing her against the desk. Something wet, warm, and soft slipped around the head of Lois' cock, and the POV slipped down for a moment to show the redhead's panties pushed aside, a hard cock pistoning in and out of her pussy.

No. The reporter struggled, feeling something move on her cock in time to the image on the screen. Her muscles trembled, tense, but she couldn't look away, couldn't move, couldn't even look down to see what was enveloping her girldick like a warm, wet, willing cunt...

Some kind of ****-game, I'm not a ****, I'm not, I'm...

The POV moved up onto the redhead's face, sweating, flushed, mouth moving, and the words came to Lois' ears...

"Breed me." She whispered. "Give me a baby."

Shock ran through Lois as her cock erupted, an instinctive explosion deep inside her victim. The reporter could feel whatever it was gripping her cock tight, milking her, and on screen, the red-head shuddered and gasped as though in her own orgasm.

Lois panted, feeling slightly sick to her stomach. Control came back to her limbs as her dick drooped, load shot. Swallowing heavily, the reporter shifted her feet, moving away from the red-head, who lay back against the desk, legs akimbo, a heavy white load dripping out of her fresh-fucked cunt.

The reporter turned away, away from the sight, headed out into the maze of cubicles again. She wandered heedless of direction, trying to avoid the sound of people, thoughts rampaging through her head.

What was that? I just saw the word... Lois felt her cock twitch just thinking about it, and determined not to "say" or imagine it too vividly. ...and I was fit to burst. I would have shoved it into anyone at that point. That was...so wrong. Except... Lois turned away from a gaggle of voices ducking into a back corridor, glad she hadn't run into anyone else yet in the game. ...except the way she begged for it, it's like she wanted it. Maybe this isn't a **** game? Just some sort of...fucked up VR sex game. That's...better? I mean, if they consent...

Lois turned the corner and saw an ass bending over in front of the copier. Not an attractive ass either; it was a capacious backside, barely contained in a flowing flower-print dress. The reporter could see a torrent of brown hair, fat hanging loose on the upper arms...the woman had to weigh 300 pounds.

CROATOAN flashed on the screen.

No. Lois screamed internally as her cock jumped into painful erection again, the point of view moving forward. Feminine hands pushed the fat woman against the copier machine, lifted the dress, and all Lois could do was watch as those hands sank into the massive, soft, cellulite-laden cheeks—The fat slut isn't wearing underwear ran through Lois' mind—and exposing the hairy triangle of her cunt. The reporter moaned as the painfully hard cock slipped once again into the warm, tight embrace of something just as her doppelganger on screen pushed into the fat pussy in front of her.

Lois wanted to vomit, to cry, to stop the pistoning of her hips...except on screen it was the fat woman pushing back, that hairy cunt sucking Lois in, it was her "victim" that was panting and begging for it harder, deeper, that she wanted the reporter's cum—and Lois could feel the load rising, her resistance melting against the combination of physical stimulation and the virtual victim's eager entreaties of "Cum in me!" and "I want your babies!" Until the reporter felt once again that familiar release, urethra burning with the **** of her ejaculation, gasping in relief as the pressure inside finally died, and in pleasure as she claimed yet another womb.

When it was over, and Lois was panting, feeling that pussy spasm and tug weakly on her dick, she pulled out, staggering off amid the cubicles again...and wondering how many more people were here in this game, how to exit or escape or win, whatever she had to do to end this nightmare...

The hours that followed tested the reporter's stamina, mental and physical, to the breaking point. After a while, she had stopped trying to avoid the other characters. Ugly or attractive, young or old, fat or fit, it didn't seem to matter. Pussy was pussy. Once the word flashed before Lois on the screen, she was raring and ready to go. Another carnal episode, another load shot from her apparently almost inexhaustible supply. The reporter lost count of the number of encounters, although each one took a little longer, to coax the cum out of her cock. They blurred together into a string of almost emotionless sexual encounters, no different than masturbating.

All of them beg for it, sooner or later. Lois told herself. The guilt had eased from her by degrees. It was easier not to think of it when the word appeared. To just let it happen, feet moving by themselves to bring her cock into contact with cunt once again, women screaming for her cock, her seed, to fuck them, breed them, make them mommies...

Then Lois stood before a door marked EXIT. She was panting softly, her whole body sore, especially her dick, which felt fucked raw. The reporter didn't know if she could physically cum anymore—the last two encounters hadn't ended with ejaculations, though her cock had spasmed and shuddered, straining to expel a drop of something, but the well was dry.

Ghost loads, Lois thought to herself, watching the cream drip out of the pussies on screen. Tired, she motioned her virtual self toward the door...and the world faded into a sea of pink.

"Stage two complete." Her voice said in her ears. "Rehydrate and prepare for stage three."