A coworker had recommended The Program to her. It was a game, he said. A challenge designed for expert programmers to test their skills.

That night, she downloaded it. By dawn, it was far enough into her head to make her want to become an extension of the program. She called in sick to work and spent much of the day modifying it to better get into her mind, and not coincidentally minds like hers.

In the afternoon she went out and bought a new wardrobe. She understood now that, despite shyness brought on by a lifetime of being bullied, she was actually extremely good-looking. Her capability to improve the Program was now used up, her contribution to its code base now complete. She was to serve a new purpose, as a reward to motivate those the program could not yet directly control, the ones who believed they could make it work for them.

She returned home, changed, and then took a selfie to send to the coworker who’d introduced her to the Program. Once that was sent, she continued watching her phone’s screen as the Program activate the new functions she’d given it.

Her coworker arrived half an hour later to find her waiting, a dazed expression on her face. He grinned. “There’s nothing left of you but an empty little plaything, huh?”

She shrugged. “Dunno!” She giggled.

“I wish the old you could see you now. That stuck up bitch reduced to nothing but a cock-craving, emptyheaded little cumslut.”

Her eyes lit up at the two words which registered. “Cock?” She asked eagerly. “Cum?”

He undid his pants. “That’s right. Cock. Cum. Now get on your knees and get that shirt off, I’m going to start by fucking those tits of yours.”