On her dive chair she jacked in. Smooth. Clean. No hitches.
The neural interface hummed against the base of her skull, data flowing into her mind in a flood of neon code. She barely blinked as she slipped into the net—her digital self a shimmer of violet light in a sea of black. Her name, or the one she used online, pulsed above her head like a warning: GHOST // LEVEL 5 ACCESSOR.
She was in.
The target server glowed blood-red in the distance—deep within the neural vault of Valence Corp, one of the big syndicates running half the sprawl. She wasn't here for money or espionage. Not this time. This was a private contract: extract a rogue algorithm, self-aware, illegal as hell, and worth more than the blood on the streets.
And she would've pulled it off clean, if she hadn't tripped the goddamn sentinel.
"Shit."
The tracer hit like a hammer to her cortex. Her digital space convulsed. Firewalls collapsed around her. A counter-hack surged toward her with brutal precision. Ghost panicked—sent out a pulse to disengage, kill the link.
Too slow.
The sentinel didn't lock her out. It pulled her in.
---
Consciousness returned like drowning in static. Her eyes snapped open.
She was no longer in her dingy backroom deck in Sector 13. She wasn't even in full control.
"Easy," a voice said, dark and smooth, like a knife across silk.
She couldn't move. Her body obeyed someone else.
"You're awake," the voice said again, calm and infuriating. "Good. I wanted to see what kind of hacker thought they could breach my neural perimeter."
She saw him through the haze. Clean-cut jaw, black cybernetic implants along his temples. Cold, intelligent eyes. Corporate. Enforcer-grade.
"You jacked into me," he said.
"You pulled me in," she growled, jaw tight. "That's not how the net works."
"Not usually." He stood, walking around her. "But you hit a honeypot node I personally monitor. I didn't expect you to trip it. And now?"
He tapped his temple.
"You're in my system. My body. Shared neural access. Can't have you bouncing out with sensitive data."
"You're linking us?" Her voice caught.
"Linking. Hijacking. Potato, potato."
She wanted to punch him. Her fingers twitched, but the override held.
He smiled. "That's better. We'll get along fine, Ghost."
---
Ghost paced the stark white confines of his private security suite—technically her body did, under his command. Her consciousness floated behind the controls, observing. The override gave him primary control, but she was still present. Still aware.
And it was starting to fuck with her head.
She could feel what he felt. The texture of his clothes. The buzz of his implant routines. The low, simmering arousal he tried to suppress every time he looked at her in the mirror.
"You're enjoying this way too much," she snapped, watching him shave in the mirror—her face scowling through his eyes.
He smirked, rinsing the blade. "You're very animated for a passenger."
"You think I won't find a way to break this link?"
"Oh, I'm counting on it. Until then…" He paused. "Want to try something interesting?"
Before she could answer, everything shifted.
---
Control passed abruptly. But not to her. From her.
She gasped as her body moved—without permission. She was still conscious, still fully aware, but every nerve was under his command. He puppeteered her movements like a master conductor, deliberate, unhurried.
"No," she said aloud, voice trembling. "Don't do this."
"I already am," he replied calmly.
Her own hands moved to unfasten her jacket. She tried to stop, tried to resist—but her limbs didn't listen. She stared at herself in the mirrored wall, watching her body undress, helpless to stop it.
"You bastard," she hissed.
He made her smile.
Her shirt dropped to the floor. Then her pants. He admired the view through her eyes, dragging her fingertips over her stomach, her hips, her inner thighs. Each stroke sent sparks up her spine, not just from touch—but from helplessness.
"This isn't consent," she growled.
"You're in my head," he said, stepping closer through the neural space, projected in her mind's eye. "You've already seen everything. Felt everything. That means we're beyond consent. We're merged."
Her hands moved again—between her legs this time. She moaned before she could stop it. Her cheeks burned. Every nerve was exposed.
"Stop this. Let me go."
He leaned in, inside the mind-space. "I want you to feel what I feel. I want you to know what it means to lose."
Then he took her body fully. Laid her back. Spread her legs. He made her fingers move in slow, taunting circles, dragging out the heat until she was panting, trembling.
"Don't—"
He forced a climax through her that hit like a voltage spike, her muscles locking, a scream ripping from her throat that wasn't hers anymore. He didn't stop. He made her come again. And again.
Until her resistance was broken. Until she sagged back against the sheets, soaked in sweat, brain overloaded with raw neural feedback.
He gave her back her voice.
"You fucking monster," she whispered.
"I warned you," he said, his tone low. "You're inside me now. And I don't play fair."
---
The link held. Tighter now. Tighter than before.
She didn't speak for hours. Her body lay limp on the bed, spent. But her mind ran wild, cycling through every override sequence she could think of. All useless.
He moved around the room, dressing casually, as if nothing had happened.
"I gave you a taste of what control means," he said. "Now you understand what you're playing with."
"Let me out," she said hoarsely.
"You'll get out when I say so."
"You'll regret this."
"I hope so."
She stared at him, hatred boiling inside—but there was something else, too. Confusion. Want. Shame. The line between domination and desire had frayed completely.
He looked at her then, more serious. "I can end this. Sever the link. You'll wake up in your dive chair with fried implants. No memory. No record. But also no you."
Her throat tightened.
"Or we keep going. You learn to use this. You adapt."
"You want me to be like you?" She asked
"I want you to survive."
She didn't answer.
But her body sat up.
On its own.
And she felt herself smile.
Not by choice.