Screw the settings and find a girl to screw!

Settings could wait – there was nothing in there that couldn't wait until tomorrow. My priorities right now were being determined by my libido. I opened my collection of captured women and began scrolling. Angela – cute, blonde, big smile; Inez – we had met, petite, busty, Latina; Julia – bookish, young, maybe some Indian heritage, lovely long dark hair; Beatrice – thin, Asian, adventurous; Misty – full-figured, red-hair, loves animals...

With each profile, I quickly imagined ways to enjoy their unique body and personality – at least the bodies and personalities I extrapolated and imagined from the limited profiles I saw. No need to be picky tonight, why even bother looking at all of them? I swiped back to Beatrice. She looked hot and fun and I probably had a minor Asian fetish pushing me her direction. I clicked on the message button and sent her a text:

Hey beautiful, are you free tonight? I'd love to meet you.

A few moments later she replied: Kinda busy right now. Maybe some other time.

Really? She could say no to me? That's not how this was supposed to work. I quickly responded: No, seriously, I want to see you tonight.

After a few frustrating minutes, I read: Sorry to disappoint, I kind of started dating someone lately. Maybe I'll let you know if it doesn't work out. I guy like you probably has plenty of other options, though.

I was confused and a little angry. What was I doing wrong? Could I only capture one woman? Then I remembered that I had to be careful with my wording. I couldn't just suggest or request something. I had to give a command. So I wrote: Tell me the truth – are you busy tonight?

When her answer came 30 seconds later, I smiled to see a simple No.

So I continued, Always answer me truthfully. Are you really dating someone?

Again, her reply was simply no.

I thought carefully how to proceed. After a few minutes of thought, I asked, Are you trying to avoid me?

Shortly after, I received simply Yes.

Why? I asked.

Because I'm scared of what you might make me do.

I smiled. Perhaps she was right to be scared. But no worries. Once I had her in my apartment, I could easily reprogram her – make her calm, make her accepting, make her forget the app even exists.

Giddy at the thought of where this evening was heading, I sent my address and a command to come to my apartment as soon as possible. After sending the message, I hopped in the shower, tidied up my apartment, and was just pulling out some drinks when I heard a knock on the door. Beatrice had arrived.

*******

I opened the door, beaming with excitement. It didn't even register in my mind that Beatrice wasn't alone until after the wind was knocked out of me. I crumbled to the floor and looked up at a mountain of a man scowling down at me, Beatrice and another woman at his side. Thinking quickly, I rasped out, “Beatrice, stop him! Tell him to stop!” She paid me no mind. I squinted her direction and saw she had large, noise canceling headphones on. Before I could react, a rag was stuffed in my mouth, a hood was pulled over my head, and my hands were zip-tied behind my back.

As I lay prone on the floor, panicking, I felt a hand on my back. Then a voice next to my ear, which I understood to be Beatrice's, spoke. “I don't know how you got that app to do what it did, but you can be damn sure you will never use it again. Should've thought things through a little better. I did what you said – I came to your apartment, but I invited some friends of my friends – some people who aren't afraid to get their hands dirty.” As she spoke, I heard crunching metal, which I assumed to be my phone. My laptop wasn't far behind.

I heard some discussion of what they planned to do – it seemed like throwing me in the river was an option, but Beatrice didn't want to risk anything connecting back to her.

“We can take him somewhere that he won't come back from,” suggested the other female voice.

“But what if someone comes looking for him?” a less confident sounding Beatrice asked. I guess with my ability to communicate removed, she had taken off her headphones.

“Listen, Bea,” said the man, “we can take care of all that, but you'll owe my boss a favor to be called in later.”

After a long pause, Beatrice simply sighed and said, “Do it.”

That's all I remember before a blow to the head knocked me out. And that's the last I ever knew of my old life.

The End

*Bad Ending – always check your settings!