A slut, not a wife

Day 62: 1,048,206 slaves

"Thank you for coming. You aren't what we are looking for, but you are still a good ****. Have some amazing orgasms tonight to compensate you for your time and trouble. Next!"

Sandra and I were interviewing candidates for wife-two. Sandra was pretty excited by the idea of growing the household. And by pretty excited, I mean that she had been fingering herself all morning telling me how much she wanted a co-wife to eat her out when I was busy running the world, how much she wanted somebody to make out with to turn me on, and more.

You might think that with my powers of transformation this would be a snap. But I didn't just want a pretty body. I wanted somebody who would be an asset in running the world, somebody with real skill. I had also noticed that my mental transformations worked better when it worked with what was already there. Even among people with skills, too many of them were boring. Telling them to be interesting, thoughtful and talented didn't do that much. Hence interviews.

We were on our sixth candidate when we found the one we wanted. She wasn't much to look at. 5'3", ear length mousy brown hair, working as a data scientist for a software company that sold boring solutions to boring companies. But she was very sharp, she was good at her job, and as we discovered, had the right personality.

"Tell us about your sexual desires and fantasies. What kind of sex do you want to be having? If you could be anything, what would you be? I order you to tell us your deepest most perverted secrets."

She looked at her feet and blushed. "I...I want to be a little subby slut. I want people to hold me down, tell me what to do, hurt me, use me. I want to be tied up, beaten, flogged, then **** to eat out somebody by my master. I want to be spread out and blindfolded, while..."

"Ah, that's enough. Just sit a minute." I could see that she would keep talking dirty at us if we let her.

Sandra and I conferred quickly. "I like her", she whispered. "We can make her perfect. Let's do it."

"Yes, let's do her."

I turned back to our candidate. "Mackenzie. We've decided you aren't quite wife material." She looked downcast. I paused a moment, enjoying her reaction, before continuing. "But we do have a role for you. I am going to make you my special slut. You won't sleep in my bed, but you will sleep next to it. I won't make love to you, but I will fuck you regularly. And Sandra will definitely have you eating her cunt." Now she was smiling. "Come here, put your head on my lap, and let me start making you over."

I closed my eyes and tried to visualize. The base body changes I could do, but this would require some help. I turned to the hive mind liaison in the corner, a small pretty blonde who had the talent of blending into the furniture when not wanted. "I want a piercer; tell them to bring a good assortment of rings and suchlike for nipples, clit, and so on. Fairly heavy gauge. Also, some fine metal chain, about six to eight feet. Somebody with skills cutting and fitting it, adding clips." The blonde nodded and stared off into the distance, coordinating with my slaves across the area.

I turned back to the new slutpet-to-be. "We'll do the heavy conditioning later, but let me do a first pass now."

At this point it felt pretty routine. I could do the physical parts without needing to think about it. She'd be in perfect health, I cleaned up any skin blemishes. Breasts a bit bigger, cunt a bit wetter, both more sensitive. I had a moment of inspiration and replaced her straight brown hair with something a bit more punk-like: short, black, and spiky.

"Now pet, it's time to do your mind. You like it when I alter your mind. You are a toy for me and my household. You like being a toy. It turns you on being used, it turns you on being altered. You want to make me happy and you want to make Sandra happy, and so you want me to make you into whatever will make me happy. And if it makes me happy to hurt you or humiliate you, you'll like being hurt and humiliated. In fact, you're so turned on by these orders that you're going to orgasm, now." She did, with a gasp and a shudder.

"But you're not just a toy", I continued. "You're going to leave your job and come work for us; we need a data analyst. When you're at work, you will be focused, you will be careful, you will try your hardest to do it right. Welcome about, pet Mackenzie."