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This is from an excerpt of a longer story I wrote (fan fic, but whatever).  You don’t need to know the characters.  Jeremy is a guy and the Squip is an evil computer that lives inside his brain and has some control over his thoughts and physical actions.

————

“You are behaving like Jeremy 1.0.  I thought we’d fully upgraded you.  Perhaps not.”

 

“Perhaps not,” Jeremy peevishly agreed.  He braced himself, expecting an electrical shock.  It didn’t come.

 

In fact, his punishment didn’t come until early the next morning.

 

His alarm went off at five AM, as it had been ever since he got the Squip.  The expectation there was that he’d get up and work out for two hours before driving to school.  It wasn’t unusual for Jeremy to make a groggy attempt at hitting the snooze button.  What he was too sleepy to realize was unusual was that the Squip let him.

 

The alarm went off a second time.  Once again, Jeremy hit the snooze.  In the back of his mind, he was aware that he needed to go to the bathroom, and badly, but the last thing he wanted to do was get out of bed.

 

“If you need to use the bathroom, then do,” the Squip suggested, in a light, soothing voice that didn’t rouse Jeremy in the least.  Jeremy was used to obeying the Squip, and that’s just what he did.  At the Squip’s suggestion, he relaxed completely.  Within seconds, a wet patch had formed on the front of Jeremy’s boxers.  There was a jolt within Jeremy.  Awareness!  He blinked, rubbing his eyes.  This wasn’t right.

 

“Hmm,” murmured the Squip.  “There is a bit of Jeremy 2.0 in you.  But, as you said earlier today, Jeremy 1.0 isn’t quite gone yet.  Jeremy 1.0 wants to sleep, doesn’t he?”

 

In response, Jeremy yawned.  The Squip began to gently stroke his hair, lulling him back to sleep.  Jeremy drifted off, and though he didn’t quite lose consciousness the wet spot grew.  As he wet the bed, all Jeremy was aware of was a comforting sensation of release, and a pleasant warmth that started at his crotch and seeped down his bottom and up his back.  The sense of well-being was profound and humbling.  Yes, he was having an accident, but he couldn’t help it.  Yes, the Squip was watching and judging, but there was nothing he could do to win the respect of the super computer, so why even try?  There was nothing wrong with peeing himself.  Jeremy was a pro at that at this point.

 

“Yes,” the Squip whispered.  “You are enjoying this.  How pitiful.  You know, deep down, you enjoyed the day in Michael’s car as well.  You could have held it a little longer, but you didn’t want to, did you?  You knew there would be no consequences from him, and in a way it felt good to embarrass yourself.  It felt good to be less than nothing.  Water seeks its own level, as they say.”

 

Jeremy sighed in his sleep, his bladder now completely empty.  He felt like he was in a trance, half-asleep and half-awake, aware of what he’d done but still untroubled by it.  In fact, all he could feel was pleasure.  Within a few seconds, he’d had another kind of wet dream.

 

The next time Jeremy’s alarm went off, as he reached out to hit snooze, he was overcome with a confused feeling that something was wrong.  He sat up, panicking a little inwardly.  The boxer  shorts and tee shirt he’d worn to bed clung to him.  He shivered.

 

“You wet the bed,” the Squip informed him.  “Turn on your light.”

 

Jeremy reached out for his bedside lamp.  The damage of what he’d done became fully apparent.  He was sitting in a gigantic wet patch.  His mattress, blankets, and sheets were saturated.  The inside of his boxers were not only wet, but sticky and slick in a way he’d been familiar with before the Squip.  The feeling of peace and pleasure fled, leaving only shame behind.

 

Jeremy pushed the blankets off of himself and hid his face.

 

“What?” taunted the Squip.  “Don’t you want more?  At this point you might as well mess yourself as well.  I believe you have to go.”

 

Jeremy shook his head pleadingly.

 

“Will you trip Michael Mell at school today?”

 

“I don’t know,” sobbed Jeremy.  “I don’t want to.”

 

A pressure formed in Jeremy’s stomach.  A revolting smell rose up around him as his bowels released into his wet shorts.

 

“Do one hundred push ups.”

 

Jeremy got up, heading for his door.  He’d shower, then do as the Squip commanded.

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