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From: an306600@anon.penet.fi
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Reply-To: an306600@anon.penet.fi
Date: Sun,  2 Jun 1996 06:38:59 UTC
Subject: Another try at "The Implant" (part 1 of 2) [mc, pedo]
Lines: 505
Xref: news.primenet.com alt.sex.stories:157910


"The breakthrough came when my professor, Dr. Klaus Neuman, discovered
the fundamental mechanisms of memory storage in the brain.  His work
led directly to methods of literally 'reading minds' through the now
famous 'mind probe'.  It is less well known, however, that Dr.
Newman's discoveries eventually enabled us to write, as well as read,
minds.  In other words, memories and beliefs could, with difficulty,
be created and implanted.  At first, the process was a hit-or-miss
affair; then the research of myself and my colleagues elucidated the
'encoding' used by the brain. Using supercomputers, new memory chains
and sequences could be generated which were indistinguishable from
natural ones.

"There has been much controversy over the ethics of memory writing and
implantation.  So far, such discussion has been rendered moot-for lack
of an effective means of implanting memories.  The current best
available means uses focused ion beams and i s slow and error-prone. 
No more than a few memory chains can be implanted by this means due to
the collateral damage caused by the beams. So philosophers and
ethicists would seem to have nothing to worry about from 'mind
writing'."

Professor James Garrett looked up from his lecture notes.  "That
concludes today's lecture."

After a few questions, the class straggled out of the lecture hall. 
He packed up his notes and prepared to leave.  He hated his job as
lecturer here at Ocean College.  He, a Nobel Prize winner.  Each time
he completed a lecture, he tasted the bitterness.  Once, he'd been a
leading light at Harvard, and his grad students had done the lectures.
Now, he was an 'instructor' at a third-rate cow college, and grateful
for the job.  He shook his head ruefully.  Ever since that incident,
his career, his reputation...in ruins.  He'd used the mind writer-the
ion beam implanter-on one of his coeds.  For a brief while, it'd been
wonderful.  She'd been his willing slave, ready to do anything he
wanted.  But he'd been greedy.  He'd tried to implant her younger
sister.  Only a child, really, at 10; he had planned to train her,
over several years, as an exquisite little slave.  The implant didn't
take, and she blew the whistle.

The papers had a field day. "Mad Scientist in Mind-Ray Sex Zombie
Case!" screamed the headlines. "Pervert Prof uses Brain Ray on
Lolita!"

And now he was here-all his dreams in ruins.  The college was very
careful to restrict him to teaching; no research with ion-beam memory
implanters.

An older man, not a student, stood before him.

"Dr. Garrett, I believe you know who I am."

"Certainly.  Howard Carmody. You are one of the richest men in the
world."

"Correct.  I am CEO of NanoDyne.  I would like to discuss a business
arrangement with you."

"My research is supported by a number of government grants; it is
quite well funded at present."

"Don't dissemble with me. You have no research funds-and no lab."

"You have done your homework."

"My staff is competent."

"I'm not interested in becoming a pet scientist in one of your labs."

"Ah. But I am talking about unlimited funding and the ability to
pursue -any- line of interest, without interference."

"Why would you wish to offer me an unlimited budget and no oversight?
It doesn't make sense."

"There would be...some restrictions...at first.  But only at first. 
In return for your assistance in pursuing a certain line of inquiry
now, you would be given total freedom upon completion of  the research
I have in mind."

"And if that research fails?"

"I doubt you will fail; however, if you should fail, the deal is off."

"All right.  I assume the research has something to do with
nanotechnology."

"Correct.  I want you to develop a means for memory implantation via
nanotech."

"Been tried.  There were insurmountable problems."

"I know.  But one our staff scientists has developed a way around the
problems that stopped the previous effort.  We believe that his
methods, combined with yours, will lead to success."

The prediction proved prophetic.  In less than a year, working first
on animals, then on human volunteers, the team had scored success
after success.  Finally it developed a fully-automated method of
memory development and implant which was completely effective.

Then-with the tools in hand-his benefactor had revealed his ultimate
goal. He called it the 'total immersion' project.  The idea was
nothing less than the construction of a complete life-memory implant,
literally building a fully- textured, completely "real" set of
memories which had never actually happened.

For the implantee, however, the memories would be true, consistent,
and completely believable-no matter how "unbelievable" the content. 
Because the subject's brain would 'believe' that he or she had
actually experienced the events in the implant, down to the tiniest
detail.  The subject would be able to answer questions about the
"past"-any questions.  With the same accuracy and detail-and lapses-
as with a real memory.

Using the new photonic supercomputers, absoulutely "real" simulations
of reality could be generated in a very short time. Even "realities"
which were physically impossible could be created.  But none which
were -logically- impossible.

Carmody was delighted.  Gradually, he took Garrett into his
confidence. "The next phase is to create the reality I have in mind.
We'll gang several of the supers together.  It must be -perfect-;
without flaw and totally believable."

"All the simulations are believable."

"Yes, yes...but THIS one must be iron-clad-you'll understand."

Slowly, the parameters became known. It was obvious why he'd sought
out Garrett-given his past.  It was the old dream-the fantasy of all
men: to have complete control over the minds and bodies of females. 
Carmody wanted willing and eager sex-toys, just as had Garrett;
submissive, totally obedient female servants.  And his method for
creating them was far more audacious than Garrett's crude use of the
ion-beam implanter.

Carmody wanted to construct 'The Institute': a total-immersion
brainwashing facility.  If someone tried to built it in "reality" it
would be impossible: too expensive, illegal on many fronts. 
Impossible to keep its existence a secret. Impossible to staff.  And
some of the "processes" he had in mind for the "residents" were either
impossible or illegal.  Some of the mind-altering drugs were
"impossible" but not logically so.

Anyone implanted with the "memory reality" of the Institute would be a
totally-programmed slave.  There would be no question of disobedience:
the experience would be too overwhelming, too completely "real".  The
subject would literally remember YEARS of intensive programming and
conditioning with drugs and hypnosis- Carmody called it
"meta-hypnosis", more powerful than normal hypnotic techniques.  The
protocol called for full immersion from childhood to puberty.  In
fact, the implant could be used on anyone-age didn't matter-but the
MEMORIES would be from earliest childhood.

"How the subjects will 'feel' during the 'training' is a meaningless
question," Carmody explained to Garrett.  "The training itself
occupies zero real time and is itself timeless.  I suppose any subject
exposed to Institute techniques and methods would feel like a helpless
plaything of infinitely-powerful, godlike Masters; of course, this is
exactly what we want.  The subject would quickly learn that her
Masters' word was Law-even physical law.  She would find that
disobedience is not only impossible-but literally unthinkable. 
Indeed, the entire concept of disobedience-of self-will- would be
removed from her mind."

As Carmody and Garrett discussed the implant, Garrett wondered at the
audacity and brilliance of the plan.  Carmody had thought of
everything: "the memories of the Institute programming will be
suppressed-hidden even from the implantee-until the pro per key phrase
is given.  At that time, all memories and behaviors will become
active.  That way, subjects can be implanted now and triggered
whenever desired."  Whoever gave the proper activation phrase would be
recognized as the Master-the one whom the implantee must obey and
serve without question.

"The memories will flood back, overwhelming the 'normal' ones.  In
essence, the subject's childhood will be instantly replaced by a
totally self-consistent and convincing memory overlay of a ten-year
stay at the 'Institute'.  And the conditioning and programming will
turn on.  I imagine it will  be a fairly shattering experience..."

"We don't want a zombie: the personality will remain unaffected.  The
subject will just obey-quite helplessly-any command given by the
Master." Carmody also specified that the conditioning regimen include
a second keyword that would project the subject into a deep
meta-hypnotic trance, "for fine-tuning", as Carmody said.

They began development of the 'virtual reality sequence'.  Every
implantee would have the same basic memory trace, with minor random
variations automatically encoded.  Each would 'remember' the same
intense and overwhelming programming; each would remember the training
in total service.  More importantly, each would have a *brain state*
that reflected the training and programming of the Institute.  And the
brain state would be exactly the same as if the implantee had indeed
spent years under the loving care of a real "Institute".

It took months to program the simulation.  Additional months to debug
and check it out.  Finally, the sim was ready.  "When can we test it?"
Carmody asked.

"I've fed the sim into the nano factory; we should have test nano's on
Monday," Garrett told him.  "Do you have, uh, a subject in mind?"

"Yeah; let me handle that.  Er, what modality for delivery?"

They'd discussed several means of getting the implant to the subject.
"Ingestion I think.  Less chance of an error; less chance of someone
else getting the 'plant."

"All right."

On Monday, Garrett collected 2 grams of a grey powder from the
"factory" (actually a small machine resembling a washing machine).  He
looked at the substance in fascination.  A single particle of it could
program the mind of  -anyone-; there was enough in the tiny vial he
held to program thousands.

He put the vial into his pocket and headed for Carmody's office.

Seated in the office were Carmody and a lovely girl; Garrett estimated
she was no older than 14.  Garrett stopped, stunned.  She was
incredibly beautiful, but he had never thought of the -age- of the
subject. Somehow it seemed -unfair- to program a young girl.  She was
dressed modestly in a long summer dress but her figure still showed
through; a knockout, even at 14...

"Hello, John.  I want you to meet my neice, Lisa," Carmody said with a
smile.

"Er, hello...Lisa," Garrett stammered.  "Uh, Howard-may I have a word
with you in private?"

They retired to an inner office.

"Your neice?! That's-that's-unthinkable!  And so young!  She's only a
child!"

"So what?  Unthinkable?  Not to me.  I've planned this entire project
around little Lisa.  She was the -REASON- for it.  Soon, she'll be my
Institute-trained servant.  What matters her age?  Isn't the
programming designed to be from "early childhood" ?  What did you
think that meant?!?"

They argued a while longer, then Garrett shrugged.  "I give up. It's
on your head."

"Fine. Give me the implant."

Garrett handed over the vial.  "A single particle will be enough; more
will not increase the effectiveness.  As a practical matter, use as
little as possible, in a drink or a snack."

"Fine."

"Oh, and wash your hands after you open the vial."

"I'll do that."

Returning to the office, Carmody said, "Well, Lisa, are you ready for
your tour of the place?"

"Sure, Uncle Howard."

Midway through the tour, Carmody stopped.  "Here's the cafeteria. 
Let's stop for a drink." He seated them at one of the tables and went
to get drinks.  Lisa had asked for a Sprite.  He brought her the
drink, and watched as she sipped it. He and Garrett had coffee.

The men exchanged glances.  She'd taken the implant.  Even a tiny sip
would contain thousands of particles.  They would quickly enter her
brain and begin replicating.  Upon reaching a critical threshold, they
would begin altering the memory sequence inside Lisa's beautiful head.

"Lisa is visiting for the summer, Carmody told him.  Her parents are
in Europe.  I agreed to let her stay with me until September."

Garrett nodded.  Carmody would be able to test her, use her, for three
months without interruption.

"I see."

"I knew you would.  Lisa has the run of the house, and of course she
has Jenny to keep her company."  Jenny was Carmody's teenage daughter.
There was no mother; Carmody's wife was dead.  Garrett looked sharply
at Carmody.  Could he be planning...? Carmody stared blandly back, and
Garrett knew it was true.

They finished their drinks and continued the tour.  About an hour
later, Lisa asked to go home; she had a headache and a slight fever. 
They packed her into Carmody's limo and watched as it drove off.

"The headache and fever are normal.  She'll sleep soundly until
morning. Then the implant will be complete."

"Activation?"

"As we discussed. The activation phrase is: 'Tell me about your life
at the Institute'".

"And the hypnosis activator?"

"'Calumet lanyard banana,'" Garrett told him.

"All right.  I'll see you tomorrow."

The following day, Carmody was late.  He got in at around 11:00 A.M.

"How'd it go?" Asked Garrett.

"Great; better than I could have expected!  God, I've been waiting for
this, dreaming of it, for years.  And now she's mine!"

"Tell me about it."

"I got up early; couldn't sleep anyway.  Knocked on her door at about
7:00. Went in and found her still in bed.  God, John, she was wearing
one of those 'baby-doll' nighties, so damn sexy.  As if I'd ordered
it..."

"And?"

"Well, I asked her how she'd slept, if the headache was gone, small
talk.  I was nervous.  With anticipation.  Finally, she said, 'Uncle
Howard, I've got to get dressed,' meaning I should leave."

"Did you?"

"Are you nuts?  I used the activation phrase," Carmody said.

"How did she react?"

"Almost perfectly."

"Almost?"

"I must have slurred the phrase at first; my throat was dry.  When I
asked the 'question' the first time, she seemed to give a little jump,
then she looked directly at me and said, 'What did you say?'"

"Right. They're programmed to ask for the phrase again if they're not
sure it was given correctly."

"So I repeated it: 'Tell me about your life at the Institute', very
precisely this time."

"And?"

"She gave a little half-gasp, half-moan.  Then, quite spontaneously,
she said, 'oh god...'.  Her face went blank for a short time, I'd say
less than ten seconds, her eyes fluttered shut, then open.  A shocked
look on her face; that cleared.  And then she looked at me and said,
'How may I serve you, Master?'"

"The standard response, remember?"

"Yes."

"The look of shock was all the memories and programmed responses
turning on," Garrett mused.  I'm amazed she didn't lose conciousness,
for a short while.  The impact on the brain must be incredible."

"She -was- dizzy," Carmody said.  "I ordered her to get out of bed and
stand before me." She did, but was unsteady on her feet.  I thought
she might faint, but she didn't."

"How long did the 'dizzyness' last?"

"About a minute."

"Normal," said Garrett.

"And then?"

"I put her through the 'drill' to test her responses. Every single one
was perfect, no deviations from the nominal.  Just like a little
machine."

"Excellent.  We'll give her the full diagnostic when she gets here."

The "full diagnostic" was designed to test the absoulute limits of the
programming, including tests to ferret out the tiniest tendency toward
resistance or disobedience.

"I'm sure she'll pass it," Carmody said.

"Sounds as if."  Garrett smiled.  "Seems completely successful."

"More than successful.  I took her, then," Carmody confided.

"How was she?"

"Perfect.  Like a little sex kitten, a plaything.  Mine, body and
soul. God, the best sex I've ever had.  Innocent-obedient-completely
and utterly uninhibited.  I'll tell you-if her mind was free, she
could make a slave of ME; goddamned fortunate it isn't."

"OK. Those are the Institute training regimens showing.  Several
thousand hours of sexual training and deep obedience.  Her mind
reflects the training-in meta-hypnosis-while performing the most
rigorous sexual exercises.  The sim works."

"Does it!  And she served with -joy-, Jim, so eager, so...I don't
know. As if she were worshiping a god.  Smiling sweetly, giggling, as
she did the most outrageous things.  As I did things to her.  God..." 
He closed his eyes.  "Christ, I can still see her little mouth bobbing
up and down on my cock.  I never knew head could be so exquisite..."

"The training again.  Did you notice?  She went into a light trance as
soon as her lips hit your cock; they're all programmed to do that to
enable them to keep their attention focused on your pleasure."

"Notice? Not really, I was too busy pumping myself down her throat.  I
thought my balls were going to turn inside out!"

The next day, Carmody brought Lisa to the Lab.  Garrett couldn't help
but stare.  The modest dress had been replaced by a tiny "sailor suit"
of the type worn by Japanese schoolgirls.  So short that the snowy
white panties she wore were nearly always visible below the
ultra-short skirtlet.  Beneath the sheer white blouse her breasts were
uncovered by a bra.

"Like it?" beamed Carmody?  "I had it made for her several weeks ago,
when it was clear the implant would work.  Quite a change, eh?"

"Christ," was all Garrett could manage.

Her behavior, too, had changed-she clung and cuddled to Carmody,
nibbling on his ear and frequently letting her hand linger at his
thigh and even his crotch.  "I told her the Lab was like an extension
of home-otherwise she'd be in 'public mode'," Carmody explained.

"Fine.  Just as long as it doesn't interfere with the tests."

"It won't.  Lisa, you remember Dr. Garrett?"

"Uh huh," she purred, glancing at him.

"He has some questions for you; I want you to answer them, OK?

"Yes, Lord."

"Lisa, when did you first, er, 'join' the Institute?"

"I was five," Lisa said.

"And what happened when you got there?"

"I don't remember clearly...they gave me something that made me
sleepy. When I woke up, I had this bump behind my ear," she said.

"The Institute discipline module," Garrett commented.  "It sends
signals to the pain and pleasure centers of the brain; no human can
withstand conditioning with the module."

"At first, new girls don't always obey," said Lisa.  "But the module
teaches them to obey very quickly.  After the first few months, they
never had to use my module-I was a good girl," she announced proudly.

"There's no lump there," Carmody said, feeling behind both ears.

"Of course not.  The module is 'there' only when the subject is under
Institute training.  Ask her."

"Where's the module-the lump-now, Lisa?"

"They removed it when I graduated.  Graduates don't need it anymore."

"I see."

Garrett nodded to Carmody.

"Calumet Lanyard Banana."

Lisa stood and her expression became blank.  Staring straight ahead,
arms at her side, she said, "I am ready for your instructions,
Master."

"Listen carefully.  Dr. Garrett is your 'other Master', subordinate
only to me.  You must obey him just as you do me, except that my
commands take precedence over his.  Understand?"

"Oh yes, Master."

"Fine. At the count of three you will awaken from this trance."

Once the girl was out of the trance, Carmody said to Garrett, "She's
all yours.  How long will you need her?"

"About two and a half hours."

"OK.  Bring her to me when you are through."

Garrett turned to Lisa and said, "come with me."  She ran to his side,
eager to obey.

Taking her hand, he led her into another part of the lab.  "We have
some tests for you to take, Lisa," he said to her.

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