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A software engineer for a social media company discovers a strange malfunction in their latest product.
Published on October 9, 2017
 - Featuring Iga Wyrwal
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Anna clicked her tongue against the back of her teeth as she scanned the Share-Me website. Something was wrong. She just wasn’t sure how wrong. She refreshed the ‘Hot-Shares’ page to see if anything had changed.

Her team had spent the past six months developing a new content curation feature. The algorithm they wrote scanned through popular topics and promoted the post and/or link that it deemed would be the most relevant, informative, and trust-worthy to Share-Me’s 500 million users. It was very slick software. The press was gushing about Share-Me building a solution to the decline of quality online news.

Which was why Anna was so cross now. In the past 48 hours, she’d caught the algorithm pushing stories that clearly fell outside the bounds of what the software was written to do. She refreshed the page again.

There.

A new ‘trending’ story. Only two shares thus far; hard to imagine how the algorithm had decided it warranted promotion.

A rag story too.

Something about a few dozen housewives caught working as call-girls all over North America. The only apparent link between them was that they had all previously participated in some clinical trial.

Anna read the first couple of paragraphs and confirmed it was absolute shit. No ‘journalism’ taking place here. The copy was obviously meant to ‘arouse’ attention. It described the women’s journey from soccer moms to sex workers with barley-contained glee and encouraged the reader to feel the same.

The page design was hideous to boot, which the algorithm should’ve taken into account. Flashing text in every corner like 1997’s greatest web-design fails all over again. She’d only been reading for a few minutes and it was already giving her a headache behind her eyes.

Anna closed the browser tab and checked the access logs for the ‘Hot-Shares’ feature to see if anyone had manually curated the story or changed some setting. Nothing seemed like a smoking gun. Xiu-Li had performed a complete back-end refresh late yesterday but that wasn’t too uncommon. She followed up anyway with a private message:

‘I noticed you refreshed the Hot-Shares feature yesterday. Was there anything odd going on?’

She pulled up the server-side code for the algorithm. Needle in a haystack but Anna prided herself on being thorough. Before she got a chance to look through it her PM notification pinged softly with a reply from Xiu-Li:

‘Yes. Many stories being promoted -before- they actually started trending. Spent most of yesterday following links to figure out why. Odd because the stories were all very sexy.’

Anna smirked, Xiu’s english was pretty good but she didn’t think that last part came out quite right. She typed back:

‘Thanks. Looking into it now.’

If only she could see what the algorithm was doing when it happened. That might solve it. She fired up her network analysis suite and started caching and saving the server-side software’s memory footprint. Now it was a waiting game. She refreshed the browser page a few times and then struck gold:

“Reality TV Husband Sues Producers After Losing Wife to Los Angeles Dominatrix.”

Anna clicked the link and groaned. Another broken webpage. Some sort of overlay rendering problem left a ghost-image flashing on top of the news article. She did her best to read through the flickering.

Apparently, a new reality show had debuted where ‘traditional spouses swap partners with kinky couples for one week.’ Some Betsy-Homemaker spent her week with a pro-domme and had never come home.

There was a screen grab of a tweet from the Domme: a pic of the wife kissing her latex boots with the caption “Mine Now.” TMZ had posted an online video of the wife renouncing her wedding vows while being pumped with a strap-on by her new Mistress. The husband was accusing the show of turning his wife into a lesbian blah, blah, blah.

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Anna watched the first few minutes of the censored sex-clip until she remembered she was at work and closed the tab in panic. She made a mental note to delete her web logs for the past several minutes.

Shit, LOGS!

She clicked back over to her network tools and scanned the source code’s behavior over the past several minutes…

There! In the time-span of milliseconds, new code was suddenly injected into the software. The story was promoted and the code disappeared with the next refresh 10ms later.

Anna sat back in her chair.

They’d been compromised. Somehow, someone on the outside had figured out how to push code into their system. They’d hijacked the algorithm and gods knew what else.

How were they covering their tracks though? Everything that happened left a trail. Just like her saucy browsing history a few minutes ago.

Anna shook her head. Better go ahead and remove that website and video from her account’s history. She super-user’d her way into the database and found her browsing history for the past hour.

Wait. That was odd. Each of the websites she’d visited through the hijacked algorithm had inserted something into the database; into her browser’s cache folder. She loaded it into a file viewer but just got a garbled mess that was actually worse than the webpages themselves. The data must be corrupted… or fragmented.

She checked the packets left by the reality tv article against the soccer mom sex scandal story. They definitely contained different data but were all identical in size. Almost like a multi-part compressed file. Anna leaned forward in her chair. She ran them through her archival software to see if anything would happen.

“Holy shit,” she muttered as the progress bar turned to a “Successful Stitch” message.

She opened the new file. Hmmm, still garbled but she could see something that looked like words, maybe an image, other things just looked like geometric shapes or fractals.

This was it. Somehow, this was the key. The algorithm was luring people to click through to these lurid sites which were side-loading code onto their computers as they read. She had to get more pieces of the file, figure out what the code was. It might’ve been a virus, ransomware, or worse.

She had two file chunks from the housewife-turned-call-girl story and four from the reality show site. Which made sense because she was on that site longer. So, all she had to do was open one of the stories, then leave it up, and the code would quietly load onto her machine until it was complete.

She refreshed the ‘Hot-Shares’ page. The top story was a three-way-celebrity sex video that had just hit the net. A former pop-star turned Vegas-act, a state senator, and the arm candy of some footballer had given a private strip tease (and a whole lot more) to the pop-star’s personal hypnotherapist in a Vegas hotel suite.

Anna opened the page. Sure enough, the same “broken” web design as the others. Flickering overlay, flashing text, even a bit of garbled sound from one of the banner ads. She messaged Xiu-Li:

‘Think I have it figured out!’

The other woman quickly replied:

‘I hope so. I am sure you will enjoy finding the answer.’

‘Damn straight,’ thought Anna. No one fucked with her code-fu like this.

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She drafted an email outlining what she’d discovered and the steps she’d taken so far, then saved it and clicked back over to the sex-tape story. She clicked on the video and let it play. She could explain it later as experimenting for the sake of her investigation.

She’d been able to mentally tune out the flickering page. Though, with the video of the the three women writhing on and around each other, it just ended up looking like a strobe light washing over their glistening bodies.

She played with her shirt collar as she watched the former pop-diva lip sync to her own song blasting from the hotel room’s surround system. It was one thing to see girls in karaoke bars and strip clubs get the place worked up by grinding to this tune, it was another to watch the performer herself sing it while she made a stripper pole disappear in her ass-cleavage when she was also having her tits worshipped by a politician and a Maybelline girl.

‘Definitely fake,’ Anna thought as she watched the camera zoom in on nipples shiny with saliva, ‘But still spectacular.’ She traced circles around her own areola as she watched the three women make out. The senator had taken care of her body, it was remarkable how good she looked wearing whore-heels and a collar.

Anna noticed how the strobe-effect from the flickering web page actually added something to the video. It was perfectly in-time to the beat of the music which was the perfect tempo for sex. Her fingers drummed on her pussy under her skirt, keeping the beat as the model pushed the senator to her knees and mounted her face. The hypnotherapist tweaked her own nipples as she watched her three girl-toys play.

They were sluts. All of them.

Such very obedient sluts.

Anna whined as she pulled her skirt up her thighs and spread her legs in the chair. ’So fucking obedient,’ she whispered hotly as she slipped her fingers under her panties and pressed them inside her soaked pussy. “Obedient whores,” she moaned, reading the caption under the video.

Wait.

Her hands froze as she studied the screen. She’d read the words “The three obedient whores entered the room together,” she was sure of it. But looking now it simply read “The three public figures entered the room together.” The smell of her pussy reached her nostrils and embarrassment flooded through her.

What.

The.

Fuck?!

She pulled her hands out of herself and clicked away from the browser to check the database. SHIT! Only six chunks of the file had been downloaded. She’d been watching for an hour (an hour?!) and she’d only gotten six chunks.

She stitched them together and felt her jaw drop. The file was still mangled by the incomplete data but she could make out a few phrases:

I’m awfully horny

Maybe the page will fix itself if I just wait

It makes sense to touch myself

I will delete my browsing history

Anna felt cold needles down her spine at that last statement. “Oh my god,” she whispered, “Its programming me!”

Despite the fear that flowed through her, Anna’s pussy twitched at that thought. It kind of liked being programmed. Jesus, it sounded like science-fiction but… she’d never spent an hour at work jilling off to women acting like slaves… before today.

What if…

What if this was what the virus, or whatever it was, had been designed to do? Hijack the promoted news stories of a major social media site, direct the public-at-large to web pages that programmed them with subliminal stimulation, and then…

Anna couldn’t figure out what came after ‘then’ because she was too hung up on imagining women all over the world, naked and glistening in front of their computers, teasing their pussies while they were brainwashed to surrender… submit… succumb…

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Anna whined while her fingers circled her throbbing clit. The pop-diva echoed her, thrusting forward on hands and knees, moaning around the model’s thick strap-on and grinding her pussy on the Senator’s face. The hypnotist knelt behind her filling her ass with a second dong shaped like a dragon’s tongue. The therapist whispered hotly in the singer’s ear that her purpose, her only thought, was to be a cum-appliance.  The diva’s stomach clenched hard and her body folded in half as she came, screaming that she would do anything-

CHRIST!!!

Anna lurched in her seat, panties dangling from one shoe. When had she started watching it again?! She checked the logs. Thirty minutes. She’d drifted off thinking about the obedient whores with blank eyes and oiled- Victims! She meant victims. All the horny, obedient victims who might be infected with this right now.

Anna trembled and fought to keep her hands off her body. She’d drifted off and gone back to the page for more sex-programming. That thought sparked through her nipples like electricity.

She checked the database. A total of eleven chunks had been downloaded. Still not enough for a complete file. She couldn’t wait with the webpage open. Somehow, it already had gotten to her. Her pussy purred between her legs at the thought, tempting her to click back over and tease herself some more while the side-loaded code softened her mind further.

The file would eventually download completely. What would it do to her then? By the time it was complete, Anna might not want to solve this mystery anymore. She might not want anything except a collar and person to call ‘Owner.’ Just like everyone else who the program snared. With every shred of her self-control she closed the browser tab and checked the logs for everything the server had been sending out to the browsers and apps used by the public.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

The code wasn’t out in the wild yet. It was only pushing itself to IP addresses inside the company network. “Why?” she wondered while the fingers of one hand plucked at her puffy pussy lips, trying to hold off the waves of arousal enough to concentrate. A trial run? A targeted attack? She had to get to the bottom of this, and quickly. But how, without exposing herself anymore to those horny images and stories that turned her pussy (and brain) into a juicy, delicious mess?

Maybe she could find the other chunks somewhere else in the database. She couldn’t have been the only person who- She pulled her fingers from her cunt with a slick “pop” and smacked herself on the forehead. ‘Your brain goes soft when you’re horny girl,’ she told herself. Xiu-Li was trying to figure this out almost all day yesterday. She found the other woman’s table in the database and searched her browser history entries.

Jackpot. There were over one-hundred chunks spread out over six hours or so. Anna pulled all the chunks into her file stitcher and waited, tugging at her nipples. Maybe she should make herself cum a couple times to clear her head? She couldn’t decide if it was a good idea or if her pussy was just trying to convince her it was a good idea. “It makes sense to masturbate,” she mused “but only until the file finishes unpacking.”

She settled back into the chair and draped her legs over the desk to get her hands on herself… just in time for a soft ping to alert her that the file was finished stitching. When she failed to close the dialog box, the software opened the file for her. Anna had just enough time to realize her final, fatal mistake: the corrupted web pages only had small pieces of the brainwashing program embedded. She’d just infected her system with the complete file.

Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit

She glanced at the power button on her computer. ‘Turn it off!’ she screamed in her head. But the button was small, and hard, and shiny… just like her clit. She hesitated while she circled a finger over the aching folds of her sex. Her pussy had what it wanted: her fingers playing with it and her mind open and ready for programming.

She lurched in her seat as the software took over her computer and blasted her with a powerful subliminal attack. The words and images were coming rapid fire; too fast to understand what she was seeing. Which kept her off balance and confused while the software beamed commands directly into her subconscious to keep masturbating and watching. She quaked in the chair, whimpering as she felt the moment pass. She’d lost. She’d let go of her one chance to save herself because she was too horny to stop jilling off. She’d lost and the program had won.

It would make her do things. Sexy things. Terrible things maybe. It wouldn’t matter. After she was fully enslaved, they’d be one and the same in her mind. It was all just a chance to obey and cum. She couldn’t feel sorry for herself. It was her fault for being such a weak whore. If she hadn’t wet her pussy at the first taste of a good mindfuck, she’d still be a free woman. She’d still be-

The door to her office opened and shut. She couldn’t see who it was. She couldn’t pull her eyes away from the blistering images and words draining her free will. The lithe frame and oval face of Xiu entered her vision. “Anna. You found the file,” she stated. Anna grimaced her eyes wide and terrified. “Help. Please. The computer.” Xiu glanced down at the case on the floor. “Please!” Anna gasped. Xiu exited her field of view but she felt the other woman bump into her chair as she knelt down. She was saved, ’Oh god, thank you Xiu! You saved me, you really-‘

Anna screamed as she felt Xiu’s face push into her plump sex and devour it with her lips and tongue. Her balled up fists pounded on the arms of her chair until Xiu’s fingers closed around her wrist and pulled her whole body closer, sucking Anna’s cunt into her mouth as she began to grind her face in a merciless figure-eight pattern in-time to the sex-beat.

Anna spasmed in the chair, arching her back until she thought it would break. Then, she collapsed, as Xiu began to tease her throbbing pussy, slowly building the foundation for her next mind-shattering orgasm. As the heat began to flicker inside her sex again, the program began imprinting her with the most important information she would ever hold in her brain.

The Program must be shared…

Director's Commentary

The images are new but the story, with a very few changes, comes from a commission piece I did in mid-2016. There’s several aspects I like, especially the cyber-detective work. Its a scaled-down version of a trope that’s used often: someone investigates mind control shenanigans and, before they realize its happening, ends mind controlled themselves.

A fun bit of business to write and it allowed me to use a series of images I’ve had stashed for years but hadn’t yet found the inspiration to work on.

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