Red: Speech control

"Red?"

The word slipped from my lips as a question, unaware of the very real consequences of my decision. The nurse's response was not surprising. "Excellent choice, slut red suits you." I sat there, passively allowing the nurse to apply the crimson lipstick, my mind disoriented by fear, confusion, and orgasm. The restraints felt tighter, and the sterile cold air of the room made me shiver.

"All done," the nurse announced with a twisted smile, as if relishing the power she held over me. The sensation of the lipstick settling started as a tingling, and progressed to a burning feeling that never seemed to end. I thrashed again, but remained powerless.

As the sensation faded, my lips buzzed curiously. They seemed swollen, and I was unable to close them as comfortably as before.

"They'll feel good too once they're fully set. Wanna see?"

She held up a mirror. My once familiar reflection now revealed a distorted image – my formerly thin lips, now a thick pucker, permanently stained a deep crimson. A tear streamed down my cheek as the reality of my situation sunk in.

The nurse, smiling expectantly, broke the eerie silence. "Well? Say something!"

My heart raced. I was starting to understand the scope of the godlike technology being used against me, but I didn't know what to expect. I opened my mouth to speak, but the words that spilled forth were not my own. The room echoed with lewd and inappropriate remarks, a perverse mockery of my voice. I struggled to regain control, my mind trapped in a nightmarish cycle of **** utterances.

Tears welled in my eyes as I realized the magnitude of the choice I had made. The red lipstick, a seemingly innocent color, had become the instrument of my silent torment. The nurse's smile widened, revealing the sadistic satisfaction she derived from my suffering. In that moment, I felt truly helpless, trapped within the crimson prison of my own lips.