Focus Testing: A GITJ Tangent

Here's a treat for Bigger-cup patrons, a full-on piece by editor-at-large ResistanceIsFutile. He's given us a little more behind-the-scenes glimpses into the world of GITJ a la "Seeking Approval", with a familiar face deep deep in the trenches...

=============

Focus Testing

By ResitanceIsFutile

The landslide victories and outright domination of the New Women Party in the recent US elections had far reaching implications. Now that the party had won widespread public approval they had less need to hide their actions and could start to step out of the shadows. They were now more free to start taking mankind by the hand and lead them into the future. They, along with other world leaders taking governance around the world would guide men, they would care for them, they would nurture them. And they would make sure that men got exactly what they wanted, what they needed. “Mother knows best” after all…

The worldwide women’s movement had used this slogan, among others, in their efforts to create a new multimedia conglomerate. Helped by deregulation by new, female-friendly governments, this new media titan would quickly swallow all of its competitors leaving Mother Knows Best - or MKB for short - as the world’s largest entertainment company in less than two years’ time. It would be in charge of thousands upon thousands of television stations as well as a vast majority of internet traffic.The network would not only inform and direct the ascent of women around the world, but it would have its hands on the hearts and minds of every man, young and old, in the country...and soon enough, the world. In the meantime, though…

=========

Olivia Henders allowed herself a rare smirk as she walked down the hall and deep into the basement of the Khazakhi facility. With her auburn hair done up in a bun, and thick black rimmed glasses adorning her face, she looked like a sexy librarian who had just walked straight out of a teenager’s wet dream rather than the brilliant research physician and political consultant that those who mattered knew her to be. Her rather conservative, violet dress tried its best to hide the curves of her hips and shape of her breasts, but they were simply undeniable. Much to her satisfaction heads were turned as Olivia’s six-inch heels clacked against the concrete floor of the facility’s underbelly. At her height they were normally not needed, but with so many other women in the building over six feet tall - and many of them growing - they helped to widen the gap between her and these subordinates, making her authority clear to everyone who laid eyes on her. As it was, women at work in the offices and testing labs stopped and stared at her as she walked by, hushed by her secret celebrity among their culture. Her powerful aura made many of the other women feel like awkward children when they were in her presence. She commanded their unspoken respect  and she knew it. One icy glare from her would be enough to keep them in line, and she liked it that way.

Olivia slowly made her way through the maze of corridors. She  had been given priority access to the facility, and she took advantage of it by slowly winding her way to the heart of their operation here in Kazakhstan.

Officially she had been brought in as a ‘Technology Consultant’ by KOLECTV, though the title was merely a formality. They had worked together on many occasions already, and this was just another opportunity for them to 'check in on one another.' KOLECTV  had established MKB  through the acquisition of a number of television stations and internet providers worldwide. Thanks in large part to leaders of the movement and some generous help behind the scenes in various governments the company had had no problem already insinuating itself into the daily life of the world’s population. Chances are that if someone were to pick any major television network or production studio it would eventually lead back to MKB, and thus KOLECTV, in one way or another.

Though far from a media executive herself, Olivia was nevertheless more than a little interested in what was happening deep here in the bowels of MKB, and had been granted access by KOLECTV to tour the facility. They were proud not only of its current media offerings, its brand and growing standards, but with the experimental programming that was being researched down here in the depths. With it they would have another guiding hand to help mankind through its difficult transition and into the bountiful bosoms of their future.

Olivia had made her way down to the sub-basement of the facility. Despite her professional demeanor, she couldn't help but feel warmth building between her legs as she subtly rubbed her thighs together. Today she was promised something special. The results of the company’s new focus testing were in, and that meant she would be able to see the results first hand. She could hardly stop from secretly biting her lip in anticipation as she quickly swiped her keycard through a series of heavy steel doors leading deeper down into the facility.

After a few twists and turns she finally made it to ‘Focus Testing’. As the last steel door shut behind her she could feel a rush of cold air as it was vented into the hermetically sealed room. The loud hum of various ventilation systems filled the otherwise silent space, and Olivia let her shoulders relax as tension was drained from her. This was a rare opportunity to let loose a little bit to have some fun. Olivia felt the urge to drop her hair down out of the tight bun she always kept it in, but at the last moment she thought better of it.

“Oh hi Mrs. Henders!” a bubbly excited voice spoke up, breaking Olivia from her momentary reprieve. “My name is Ainar. I am new here...but I’ll be showing you around…”  Ainar’s dark eyes slowly met Olivia’s own only to be met with an icy glare of indifference that sent a chill down the younger woman’s spine.

Ainar quickly looked away and back to the small tablet she was holding in her hands.

“And I…uh…I’ve been put in charge of filling you in on our findings down here…I volunteered actually…”

Olivia looked the girl up and down. A Khazakhi native, obviously, she had a certain meekness to her. Her glasses and hairstyle reminded Olivia of her own, but , she surmised, that was where their similarities ended. Her dark hair was streaked with multiple different colors and her dress was anything but professional. Walking around in a baggy white t-shirt and jeans the girl seemed more ready to go dumpster diving than to work in a powerful, cutting-edge company. Did KOLECTV know that its dress standards down in these dungeons had sunk this low?

“Anyway...if you would just walk over here we can get started…” Ainar mumbled feeling Olivia’s gaze burn a hole through the back of her head as she led her to the beginning of the inspection.

The hallway-like room they walked though was rather unique. There were no lights in the room but instead a variety of windows on either side each peering into testing rooms of various sizes and configurations. The only light in each was the spectral glow from the screens inside. It cast the hallway in a calming, if slightly eerie, blue light as they walked past.

The majority of these rooms had a group of male focus testers present along with a variety of female ‘assistants’ who typically stood on the edges of the room making sure the participants stayed ‘focused’ on exactly what they were supposed to be doing. It was clear at this point in the study that these groups were here purely for Olivia’s benefit so that the VIP guest might witness things first hand. A task she very much looked forward to doing.

“According to the charts…” Ainar began, staring down at her data pad as she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Since we have introduced New or Alternative male programming to the airwaves, our numbers have steadily climbed. We estimate that we have already captured an average of 30% of the male viewership in most countries. And those numbers are only projected to rise.”

Olivia glanced into one of the test chambers as four young men, quite possibly teenagers, sat with their eyes glued to the screen in front of them. A blonde ‘bimbo’ like cheerleader sat on either side of the group egging them on and pointing at the screen as they watched a group of women exercise in an aerobics video.They did jumping jacks, stationary bikes, and treadmills all while clearly not wearing a bra. Their breasts bounced up and down under their skin tight shirts, often in a rhythmic fashion as they all exercised together. The camera made slow panning shots often focused on their chests ‘incidentally’, and the girls at the teenager’s sides made sure to point out whenever they could see a hint of a nipple, or asking if maybe their boobs seem just a little bit bigger than they were a moment ago.

“With the new campaign underway,” Ainar continued, “We expect that women around the world will soon see the ‘educational’ benefits of our programing and will encourage their males to participate.”

Another room. This one had only two men in it in their mid to late twenties flanked on either side by women obviously unafraid to get a little touchy feely. On the screen a modern remake of a familiar movie from the 1980s played. Olivia recognized it as one of MKB’s new projects, and had seen some early cuts herself. The screen was filled with the tremendous tits of an amazonian juggernaut, a bodybuilder she recognized, who throughout the movie remained nearly entirely naked as she threw around the men who opposed her as if they were dolls. Cold and uncaring, she had only one objective: to prevent the birth of the leader of the male resistance. Her breasts were classified as lethal weapons and she often used them to subdue those in her way along with her ass and pussy she drowned any male who dared to get in her way with her sex until they couldn't take anymore. Soon she would find her target and drain him of all his sperm thus preventing the birth of the future leader of the male resistance. The vital load containing his future son was instead plastered all over her tits, thus ensuring a future of unending female domination.

As the men watched the female ‘assistants’ played with their hair and cooed and cuddled as they subtly ensured that they couldn’t move their heads or look away from the screen in front of them. Olivia was quite certain she saw a hand disappear below the table and into one of their pants.

“MKB has already struck a deal to help fund the construction of many children’s daycares in exchange for  leaving our programming on at all times. We’ve even offered a generous donation of any ‘supplies’ they might need as things begin to transition.”

This caused a slight chuckle from Olivia, her face having slowly melted into a look of joy as she watched the men in front of her. The daycares were going to need more supplies than they knew what to do with. These little boys had no idea what was coming.

Ainar brightened as she saw the look of glee on Olivia’s face and she dared to look away from her tablet.

“Our web and pornography divisions are reporting widespread adoption, even and especially from ‘unclaimed’ males. It seems that we are rather popular. Our tracking software gives us everything we need on each potential targ-…hrghm...I mean potential user.” she coughed a small smile shared between the pair and their inside joke.

“We have all the data as well as methods of viral advertising that we need. But more importantly, we have begun development on the Krolich'ya n-…uh, the ‘Rabbit Hole’.”

Olivia turned to another room to see another male, older, possibly in his late 40s, hunched over a computer screen as two female technicians observed him through a camera behind a partition both holding clipboards and making copious notes.

Olivia knew the trick to this one. Send a guy in for an all day session, sometimes multiple, and you give him some tasks or some surveys to fill out on the computer. Sometimes it was a new game, sometimes it was a media survey focused around a show or brand that the subject was an avid fan of. It all kind of depended on what they were testing that day. Regardless, all the tests would eventually play out in the same way.

The male would get...distracted. Maybe the task would get tedious and they would just get bored. Maybe there would be subtle subliminal images or sounds embedded in the content. It could just be a few whiffs of pheromone pumped into the room by the dedicated ventilation to simulate the perfumes that women would soon be able to purchase..

Eventually they all gave in. They found themselves clicking a strangely suggestive ad or two and then they were sent down the ‘Rabbit Hole’. This was a specific set of websites designed for each user based on their profile information. “We take what they like and we twist it a bit, we entice them a bit and we push them further and further down the hole.”

What started out as a fairly vanilla porn scene, for some reason (due to pheromones or other manipulative tricks) is just not satisfying anymore. They needed more. And more. And more. Soon they would be searching the internet for a Mommy to love and care for them.

“Using the Rabbit Hole most men, even those in hiding, will do our jobs for us and they will beg for us to put them back into diapers!” Ainar chirped happily.

Olivia felt her nipples harden as she thought about the legions of men begging for the privilege to become good little simps and suckle at a woman’s breast. Just the thought itself nearly made her start to leak.

“Of course there will always be outliers. Those men who feel that they have to fight. They have to ’resist’ no matter what. Honestly I think it’s really cute,” Ainar remarked as they made their way past a set of heavy steel doors, and into a section marked as ‘Level B Experimental Programming’.

“But of course we have some solutions for that too.”

“Of course you do,” Olivia responded, more and more impressed the deeper into the tour she went.

“The first is the most obvious, you baby them,” Ainar smirked as the two of them turned to look into a large nursery filled with toys and books and games, all designed to encourage ‘certain’ behaviors and encourage men to be good little boys who listen to their mommies. Several assistants dressed as nannies stood around the edges of the largely empty room quietly watching as their eyes were focused on a large white crib. They were waiting for something to happen.

“Oooh it looks like someone is just about to wake up from his nap!” Ainar giggled excitedly

Suddenly the ventilation system kicked on with a loud hum as fans began to pump large amounts of pheromone into the nursery, filling the air with a light mist that began to fill the room.

That’s when Olivia heard it through the speakers in the hall. A quiet little whine, a needy little whimper coming from a small man inside the crib. He was just shy of four feet tall, an obvious lucky recipient of other KOLECTV interventions, and dressed in a cute little blue onesie covered with pictures of what looked like firetrucks.

Despite herself, Olivia’s heart nearly melted when she saw him. He looked so helpless as he laid there waking up from his little nap as he sucked on his thumb. Something inside her wanted to hold him. She wanted to protect him. She wanted to feed him.

“Wakey wakey Stewy it’s play time,” One of the Nannies cooed in English, possibly for Olivia’s benefit. She came over and gently picked the little man up as another nanny followed with a bottle of warm milk, and another stood by with fresh diapers.

Just in case.

“That little guy is Stewart Bell, president of one of our smaller-market competitors in Great Britain,” Ainar said, “Well until we acquired them that is. It’s funny how a little love and care can get a man to sign just about anything these days.”

Olivia watched with amusement as a former business adversary was pampered and cleaned by their team of talented nannies before being sat down with his little pacifier to watch some nice ‘developmental’ programming. It was time for his favorite show, Ainar explained: “Babs in the Big Boob House” where a young and perky 18 year old, Babs, bounced happily around her house as she took viewers, like Stewy here, on adventures and taught him valuable lessons about what it was like to live in a big boob house. The show was bright and colorful and full of energy using simple easy to understand language for its developing audience.

The women watched over Stewy, smiles growing on their faces as he became more and more focused on Bab’s bouncy assets slowly giving in to his compulsion to suck on his bottle.

“He’s one of my favorites. Such a little cutie!” Ainar squealed. “Unlike this guy over here who clearly needs some work…”

The next window revealed a tall muscular man. He looked to be Russian, possibly Bulgarian in descent . His head had been shaved and his shirt had been removed. Olivia watched with satisfaction as he was pushed around by three blonde, nearly identical female assistants each a head taller than him and just as well-muscled.  He tried his best to be a big strong man ranting and raving as he tried to stand his ground, but Olivia could see it in his eyes. He was already broken. This wasn’t the first time he had been manhandled by a group of women and it wouldn't be his last. He tried to hide the fear in his eyes as he put on his little show. He ranted and raved as he tried to fight his way free but he was effortlessly forced into a large black leather chair in the center of the room connected to various pieces of equipment throughout the room.

The three large women quickly got to work securing him to the chair, the largest of the three taking the opportunity to sit on his lap with her enormously voluptuous rear pinning him to his seat. The weight of her pillowy softness caused him to go quiet as she began to slowly roll her ass up and down his lap until she had his full attention.

This gave the other two girls the time to fully strap him into the chair leaving his arms, legs and head unable to move as they began to place a number of electrodes on his skin.

“This, as you likely already know, is the Plavil'shchik Mozgov, or what we like to call it ‘The Moscow Mixer.’ It applies a neurofeedback loop and pyschosexual conditioning to turn men like our rebellious little boy here into something…well..a little more socially acceptable let’s say.”

A large switch in the room was thrown and the sound of whirring electricity filled the room as the machine and all of its frankensteined attachments began to come to life. The three assistants, confident that their subject was now nice and secure, took their places at various stations throughout the room used to monitor the subject’s vitals, brainwaves, and sexual arousal, all needing to be in perfect balance in order for the process to go off without a hitch.

“The machine can be a bit finicky but the results - when done properly - are undeniable,” Ainar explained, “This little - how do you say? - sucker has been a thorn in our side for quite awhile now. Rallying a male resistance against the Collective, trying his best to get in our way. We decided to save his re-education for something special. We are so happy you’re here Mrs. Henders. Here to watch it happen.”

Three large CRT monitors came to life in front of the man as large headphones were placed on his head. He could only see what they wanted him to see. He could only hear what they wanted him to hear, and - Olivia knew - soon he would only think what they wanted him to think.

The screens filled with political news coverage showcasing the number of victories won by the various women’s parties around the world. Celebrity candidates like new US Senator Kardasian thanked the American people and promised a revolution.The new militant Brazilian president spoke of ‘Um Novo Caminho’ - a New Way of doing things. A Woman’s Way.

Once they set a baseline they began to activate neurons in his brain. Neurons that stimulated pleasure whenever he watched a woman in a powerful position. Olivia knew that whispers were filling his ears and playing with his mind, leading him down the path to obedience, to sublime weakness.

“Can we hear what he’s hearing through these speakers?” Olivia requested.

“Sure, yes okay. I’ll stream the English versions…” Ainar answered, and after a few taps to her tablet, low female voices began. Choruses of them, layered, some little more than whispers.

‘You love Big Women. Surrender…surrender to us…’

‘You love Powerful Women Give in…Give in and feel pleasure…’

‘You want Nothing More but to serve us. Fall…Shrink’

‘And belong to us. Let mommy take care of you…’

The images on the monitors began to flicker and change. As women continued to give speeches promising an end to the reign of man and a place for men at home, flashes of the powerful politicians in their lingerie began to pop up on the screen. Teasing him, enticing him, begging him to take in every supple inch of their bodies. Were these for real? Or was this some sort of AI construct. No matter, really…it was seemingly effective.

‘You Love our Big Breasts...Big Fat Mommy Milkers…’

‘You Love our Big Asses...Nice and round…and Soft…’

‘In fact you want every part of us to just get Bigger and Bigger...Big enough to get lost in… ‘

‘And we want the same for you <giggle> Well…part of you anyway. Relax…relax and feel yourself get bigger and harder…for us…

The occasional lewd picture soon became a cascade as pornography filled all three screens and cycled at a rapid pace leaving the poor male nowhere else to look.

‘We know how hard it is to be a man. So Hard…So Horny…’

‘Let us Help you Relax…Unzip…And just Watch…’

“And there we have it!” Ainar squealed as she clapped her hands together, “Perfect equilibrium!” She pointed to the readouts on a console nearby which showed three overlapping wave charts now flowing together in one singular pattern. “Look at this!” Ainar continued excitedly as she swiped at her tablet showing a live feed of the male subject’s face. “You see how his eyes are all glassy and glazed over? Aww and look he's got a bit of drool running down his chin! That is sooo Cute! Our little toy here is perfectly suggestable now. His brain is all gooey and ready to reshape anyway we want!” Ainar said as she just barely resisted jumping up and down like a kid in a candy store. “So how about it, Ma’am? Any special requests?”

Olivia smirked. This is what they all were waiting for, she knew, an opportunity to see a master at work.

Sigh. “Well, I assume you want him alive,” she began “but I have to admit, it would be so much fun to just…take his breath away. Could we do that? Turn off his brainstem?”

“Well, sure…!” Ainar replied, shivering in excitement at the tall redhead’s tone.

“So his life is in our hands, hm? Right at this moment? We could just snuff him out by barely lifting a finger? Hm. But…what’s the fun in that, right?” Olivia chuckled, stepping up to a panel with a board of controls and a microphone. She surveyed the dials, knobs, buttons. Seemed easy enough. “Nonetheless, if he is as dangerous as you say he does need to be taken care of,” she said, as she put her hand to her chin in thought and her green eyes sparkled with the many things she could do to this male. Squashing their lives just never gets old.

“Let’s use this opportunity to test the limits of this ‘conditioning’ shall we?” she finally decided. She leaned in to speak into the microphone. “Do you mind?”

“No, yes, please..!” Ainar spoke, excited.

“Does he understand English?”

Ainar clicked through a few commands on her tablet. In the room, the man’s body jolted for a second, and then came back to rest. I taped directly into the language center of his brain. He should now be able to understand anything you say to him…while he is strapped in anyway."

“Great,” Olivia replied. She clicked a button to put her microphone into the feed going into his headphones.

“Hello darrrling,” she purred.

The speakers in the room crackled to life with an identical feed being fed directly into the man’s headset. It was important to Olvia that everyone get to share in the fun after all.

“How are we feeling?” she asked, “It looks like we're having quite the hard day, aren’t we?”

Glancing over at the tablet she studied the subject’s face. Not much had changed. He seemed completely oblivious as he stared at the screens in front of him, which remained full of the glory of the female form. But Olivia could see it. She recognized the subtle recognition in his eyes. The vulnerable innocence he exuded. His Ego was now completely gone leaving nothing but a helpless, infantile mind in its wake. One that was ready to fall under her spell, be shaped by her hands.

“Oh Honey it's okay,” she continued, “Don’t you worry. Mom is here to make it all better!”

Her voice was sickeningly sweet and cheery. A far cry from her normally more cold and curt manner she used around subordinates. Now, there was something inviting about it, calm and soothing but made chilling by the subtly mocking undertones completely lost on the only man in the room.

“Mommy knows,” Olivia continued, speaking directly into the man’s hippocampus and limbic system, “I know it's been tough on you, locked away in your little cage for so long. Forced to look at all those big, bouncy breasts, and those nice thick thighs. These girls…they’ve all been picking on you, haven’t they? Pushing you around…beating you up…making you feel so weak.”

On the video feed, the man’s eyes had widened. His face twitched in quivers.

“But Mommy has a secret…a secret that will make everything all better. Let me tell you what it is,” she saidu, her voice full of promise, “It’s okay to be weak. You want to be weak because if you’re weak, you get to make comeies as much as you want, whenever you want. Now doesn’t that sound nice?”

Olivia paused, allowing the pornographic images on the monitors a moment to sink in and do their work. With the seed planted she needed to give it a moment to take root. The talented girls in the room were quick to follow her lead filling the screens with scrawny weak men being toyed with by powerful women. Women were bigger, stronger, faster and smarter in every way. That left the men left to do the only thing they did best. Give in to their pathetic male nature and come, some at the hands of the women, some by their own hands. Either way, they were paying tribute to the superior sex. Worshiping them in the only way they knew how. The only way that mattered.

Pulses of pleasure shot through the man’s little brain , brought on by the electrostimulation of the machine, forever associating smallness and weakness with pleasure as every new image brought a burst of pleasure to his brain with every throb of his hardening member.

The women watched, carefully monitoring as the male became fully absorbed in the scenes playing across the screens. The energy in the room was electric. They could feel the hair raise on the back of their necks as they stood waiting with bated breath to see exactly what Olivia would do next. Though maybe with origins in a different world, in some respects, Olivia was a living legend in her own way among these women. She was, in fact, from a long line of living legends, and they were all acutely aware of how special a moment like this was in the early days of this new world. They were likely to remember it, and revisit it every night for the rest of their lives.

Olivia took pleasure in their reactions. She had to admit to herself: This…this part just feels sooo good. It wasn’t just the process of breaking this man here in this lab: there were other, far more straightforward ways to dispose of him as a threat. But nonetheless it was a catharsis, crushing a man’s psyche, turning him into a pathetic little toy. It felt so right. She could feel her stress starting to melt away as she let herself loosen up a bit more.

“Yes sweetie go ahead and stare…just like that…It’s okay to be weak,” she continued speaking into the man’s mind, “Give in to what makes you a ‘man’ and let your thoughts, worries and anxieties all  drain away…drain away right into those balls between your legs.”

The man’s face was twitching, and then went slack. And then began twitching again.

“MMMmm you love it. You just love it don’t you?” Olivia purred, “The feeling of your mind slowwwing dowwwwwn. Of all your little thoughts just leaving your head…leaving you with nothing but…a nice…hard…dick.”

The man’s body quivered a bit.

“Ohh…I like that!” Olivia sang, her tone brightening again, “And, I think that would make a very good name for you! From now on you’re name is ‘Dick’. You’ll be our happy little Dick. How does that sound?”

Olivia caught the eye of one of the technicians to her right who gave her a knowing nod in return as she began the process of rewriting the man’s most basic memories. The process caused the man’s eyes to roll up into the back of his head. Subtle unintelligible moans could be heard coming from his mouth along with a slight sizzle coming from the work of the machine. The process was thought to be quite pleasurable for subjects, and…even if it wasn’t…they wouldn’t remember it anyway.

The process was quick and efficient, just as Olivia preferred. Such efficiency however did often come at a cost she knew, with this sort of tech. Certain ‘errors’ were far more frequent, often causing some collateral damage to the surrounding tissue. But in the end, Olivia was sure that wouldn’t really matter all that much.

Once the process was complete one of the assistants walked over, and with Olvia’s express permission fondled the subject’s crotch. Within just a moment or two he was being receptive to the attention, hips rutting. The woman removed her hand.

“Oh I’m so glad you are up and giving us your full attention Dick,” Olivia continued, “Now where were we? Oh that's right...We were talking about how good it is to get nice and hard for us weren’t we? After all, we - women - are the ones that make it that way. Walking around…filling you with such naughty dirty thoughts. We control your cock, and honestly, that is all we need to control you, little man. We control that thing between your legs, your other, better, brain that tells you exactly what to do, and it knows exactly what you need to be happy.”

The man sat there unable to think. Unable to do anything but 'listen' as he absorbed her every word.

“That brain in your head is useless. Thinking with it will only cause confusion and pain. You need to relax. You need to think with that Nice Big Dick of yours and let us take care of you. That is the only way you can be happy.”

“Let your mind go and think with your dick.”

“Nice and Hard and Happy.”

“Let your mind empty into your balls and feel yourself get so hard for me!”

“You want to do it don’t you, hm?”

“You can hardly stand it anymore.”

“So Nice and full and ready to Pop!”

Olivia gave another nod to one of the assistants, who, with an excited grin, moved over and unstrapped the man’s wrist from the chair. Immediately his hand went into his pants, between his legs, and-

“Well go ahead and do it,” Olivia instructed, “Jerk your cock. Mommy wants you to come so fast and so hard that you blow your fucking brains out. Unable to think about anything other than coming ever again!”

Already the man was flagellating himself mindlessly.

“Now be a good little Dick for me and listen to your mommy…” she spoke, her voice now emanating something deeper than what normals were accustomed to, “...Come.”

With the electrodes coursing electricity through his brain and the mental edging of a lifetime it didn’t take long for him to do exactly what she wanted. The girls around her clapped and cheered, Ainar included, as the man finally exploded leaving him a hot and sticky mess fully conditioned to their liking. Olivia watched the clean up as they unstrapped ‘Dick’ and carted him away to somewhere even deeper down below. His hand never left his penis, and he was already starting to get hard again - a good sign that things had gone well. Olivia was also happy to see that he could still walk and seemed to understand verbal commands. He could still be useful. Well enough for his purpose anyway.

“The process seems to be a success, hm?” Olivia said to Ainar with a wry smile.

“Oh, yes ma’am, for sure!” Ainar gushed, so happy the demonstration went well. “If he should show any signs of recovery, or any unwanted or unexpected signs of behavior he’ll be scheduled for an immediate frontal lobotomy,” she explained, “”That should ensure that any corrections we made today will remain permanent, and it should allow us to safely test the limits of ‘The Moscow Mixer’s.’ conditioning both in duration and intensity.”

They both watched as the two remaining lab assistants made notes on their clipboards before running off to join the others in breaking ‘Dick’ into his new life down below. Once they were gone Olivia took another moment to relax.

With a contented sigh Olivia turned to see Ainar staring at her with a look of pure adulation. Her face was red, and she was clearly hot and bothered by what she had just seen. Her fingers were fidgeting as she tried to keep her hands still.

“Th-that was really amazing.” Ainar said as she struggled to get her hot and heavy breathing under control.

Olivia allowed herself a self satisfied smile. She had to agree; due to her myriad of responsibilities, she got to do things like this far less often than she liked. Instead she was stuck being the face of authority back at home, normally. So much so that she had few peers, or friends. Others, she knew, trembled in her presence. While she had to admit she found that to be very useful at times, after all these years - deceased, really - it often left her tired and drained, always needing to put on a stern face. What she really wanted, what she really needed - like every other girl, now, thanks to the Pathogen - were men that she could hold and nurture, play with and care for. Boys to corrupt to her every whim, brains and bodies to break and ruin.

Unfortunately responsibilities came first - there was a new world to shape - and there was seemingly no end to them. Such was her lot in life. She’d taken up the mantle long ago from her mother, and it was something she needed to accept.

“Okay, so you know we have one last stop on our tour!” Ainar exclaimed, now fully recovered.

Here we go, Olivia thought to herself, the real reason I’m here.

“As you so - how do you say - aptly demonstrated, ‘The Moscow Mixer’ is really powerful, but it is super difficult to operate properly and maintain. We need trained technicians, several, for proper operat-“

“Let alone its lack of portability,” Olivia chimed in, having already been briefed on what she was about to see, “As powerful as the machine is, it is entirely impractical for large scale use on the general public.”

“Y-yes, which got us thinking,” Ainar continued, as she led Olivia to the last cell at the end of the hall and gestured for her to look inside, “And we have come up with a new solution…”

Olivia took a look inside what seemed to be set up as typical suburban living room. A father and his two adult sons were sitting on the couch as they stared transfixed at the television, each of the three showing all the same signs as the man in the previous room. Their eyes were glazed over and drool was running down their mouths - and all had an obvious tent in their pants. Seeing what was onscreen, Olivia chuckled. Someone’s got a sense of humor. On TV was an old ‘Mega Milk’ commercial from a number of years ago, featuring a very familiar raven-haired spokesmodel with a sizable bust in a white bikini and a tight pearl necklace around her neck. Though she had no lines of dialogue, she was obviously espousing the values of ‘Mega Milk’ and these males just seemed to be drinking it up.

“As you can see these boys are tranced out of their minds,” Ainar said, “No electrodes, no vitals, no base conditioning! Just a  - how do you say? - good old-fashioned television signal and some modified technology.”

“Impressive,” Olivia agreed, wheels already turning with the possibilities.

“But,” Ainar continued, “This is just a prototype, a custom-built unit, and the process to properly modulate the signal coming from it is prohibitively expensive and complex. What we need is a way to make the effect more   dependent on the base transmission and less on the television unit itself. We’d love to be able to send a signal into people’s homes that would work without them having to replace their current televisions.”

“And that’s where I come in…” Olivia surmised, already analyzing, thinking. This, of course, was not her normal area of expertise. Her training, as far as science and technology goes, was biomedical. But, she did have - how to put it - unique ways of blending certain arts that KOLECTV found very intriguing. “I think there’s things that could be done.”

“Oh my god okay,” Ainar gushed, her own gears turning in excitement, “because if we could get this project up and running and into mass roll-out, we already have a set in front of the eyes of every male in the world!”

“Yes,” Olivia agreed, “the potential for this to be a powerful tool is very, very great. If we can modify the signal. Imbue it with something…”

“Yes!” Ainar sang, only half-knowing what this woman, and her kind, were capable of, but realizing it was terrifyingly effective. “And the best part is,” she continued, “it doesn’t just have to immediately dumb them down into obedient little - how do you say? - horndogs. We can use it to trance and train them in subtle ways, using any television program we want, including advertising. Think what ‘Mega Milk’ would pay for commercials as effective as this?”

“Haha true,” Olivia mused. Of course, at least for now, they’re thinking about money. She knew, if she was going to get involved in this project, she’d have to allow for such…necessary evils. Early in her own work there had been lean times - some very lean - and she’d had to consider similar banalities.

“Yup those boys are sure to be Mega-Milk drinkers before long,” Ainar concluded, "And after that, who knows? With your help, ma’am, we could have them all doing anything we want. All they will need is a bit of time in front of what we call the Boobtube...”

========================================