Mistress Collette's Lair



 

 

The Robot

 

   Collette was lying on her back, speeding through the underground tunnels as the lights of the mag-tube flashed by at a dizzying rate. The strobing lights flashed brightly, reflecting off Collette’s pink jump suit, illuminating the cramped tube. The coffin sized cabin banked to the left, climbing through the earth towards the mag-tube terminal.

    The cabin slowed slightly and began to ascend almost vertically. It spun on its axis and twisted until it landed on a magnetic conveyor. Moving slowly the mag-tube opened with a silent burst of air. Collette stepped out of the tube onto another conveyor belt that paralleled the belt of the tube. The black conveyor belt banked softly dumping Collette into the large mag-tube boarding room.

    There were hundreds of people talking loudly, each wearing a jump suit of different colors. Each color represented your status in society, from the browns of the menial workers to the whites of the government representatives. Blues and greens, oranges and reds, each color a standing marker; a litmus of your rank in society.

    Collette left the terminal and stood on the busy street. Cars raced through the air, following the myriad roads that still ran between the buildings. People walked on the streets and sidewalks while the cars meandered through the sky, speeding through the air for destinations unknown.

    A large pyramid shaped building dominated the sky across from the mag-tube station. Hundreds of huge steel support beams held the building aloft. Some of the floating cars slowed and parked within the pyramid shaped structure. The letters CTF could be seen written on the building in a triangle, the C above the letters TF.

    Collette sprinted across the street, her pink shoes slapping noisily on the asphalt. She approached a young man wearing a yellow jumpsuit sitting at a desk, acting as receptionist for the CTF, the consciousness transfer facility. "Can I help you, ma’am?" he asked, awed by the color her jumpsuit represented.

    "Yes, please," Collette smiled. "I have a four o’clock appointment."

    "Your arm, please," he asked politely.

    Collette pulled the sleeve of her jumpsuit aside and slid the appendage into a small tunnel. With a beep a large holographic monitor appeared; black letters on a hazy blue background. Paul touched the floating screen, each time a soft sound squawked from an unseen speaker. He read the screen and verified the information written in the floating haze.

    Collette acknowledged her appointment and authorized the cost to be deducted from her account. Another faint beep and the monitor disappeared.

    "Take the elevator up to the sixty-fourth floor, turn left, and follow the hallway. You will want the last door on the left."

    Collette pulled her arm from the soft tunnel. "Thank you," she read the name tag pinned to his jumpsuit, "Paul."

    "Ma’am," he replied, smiling.

    Collette walked the short distance to the elevator. Pushing the button marked, "up," she waited briefly for the elevator to arrive. The doors opened silently and Collette walked into the silver cube.

    "What floor, please?" A tinny voice echoed in the elevator car.

    "Sixty-four," Collette replied.

    The car began its ascent, climbing through the interior of the huge building. Twice the car stopped rising to slip backwards, deeper into the core of the building. With a pyramid shaped building, eventually the elevator would reach a floor where it could not climb higher. The horizontal corrections were necessary to reach the desired floor. The elevator slid along on magnetic rails, finally stopping on the sixty-fourth floor.

    Collette left the confines of the elevator car and turned left. The hallway ended with two doors, one to her left and one straight ahead. She opened the door to the left, slightly amused that the room was unmarked as to what lay behind. "You must be Collette," a thin, bearded man greeted her. He was wearing a green jumpsuit and smiling broadly.

    "Yes," Collette replied, nodding.

    The man, his name tag reading, "Henry," leaned in conspiratorially. "You know, miss, there is a much better way for you to," he paused, looking around, making sure he was not overheard even though there was nobody else present, "get what you are looking for."

    Collette looked at him skeptically, her head cocked to the side, "uh-huh."

    He continued, his voice low, "I know what you are thinking. Believe me, we get a lot of people here to act on their fantasies. Hell, that is what we do, we let people act on what gets them off, excites them. We are in the fantasy business. But it isn’t real, not really. Sure, it seems real, the memories are real, but it is all in your mind. What I am proposing is simple." He offered her a piece of paper, "check out this web page. That’s all. I promise you that it will be worth it."

    He pointed to a computer terminal sitting unused in the corner, "you can use that system," he offered, "if you still want to go in when you are done, I will double the time of the session, free of charge. If not," he let the words hang in the air.

    Collette crossed the room and called up the AOL browser. AOL was the only online service left, long ago beating out the rest of the competition and acquiring enough market share to purchase the long time computer giant Microsoft. Collette looked at the web address written on the paper, the letters meaning nothing, GITP://GWS.ROB.COM. She typed in the address and rapidly the web page appeared.

    The banner across the top of the holographic screen read: Robotics International. Collette read the page rapidly. Taking in the information, smiling broadly. Henry, she reasoned, was right. This made much more sense. Before she knew what she was doing she had filled out the order form, even requesting overnight delivery. A brief message read: Command Word, Oscillate. She jotted down the word casually.

    She logged off, grinning broadly.

    Crossing the room, she returned the piece of paper to Henry and thanked him profusely.

    "You’re welcome," he smiled back. "Have a great day, miss."

    Collette turned and left the room. She descended the elevator, stopping at the receptionist desk to have Paul rescan the barcode that had been implanted at birth to credit her account. The barcode was the means that society paid their bills, it contained their medical histories, doubled as a driver’s license, and contained all pertinent information about the person on who the barcode was etched.

    "Changed your mind?" he asked.

    "Yes," Collette replied, not volunteering any further information.

    Collette left the CTF and returned home, the mag-tube whisking her rapidly across the huge city. She spent the rest of the day relaxing, thinking her meeting with Henry had been extremely fortuitous.

    Collette had scheduled the appointment at the CTF three weeks earlier, when she had first had the aching need to dominate a man. The law, of course, firmly forbade such activities. The CTF came into being because of the laws that banned one person inflicting harm on another, even voluntarily. Society disallowed abusive behavior towards others, and the CTF was the only legal way around that law, until now.

    Collette went to bed early, anxious for delivery of her newest acquisition.

 

* * * * *

 

    A soft rapping at the door pulled Collette from the kitchen. She greeted the deliveryman who stood on her doorstep with a huge box. She signed for the package and the deliveryman, who wore a brown jumpsuit, wheeled the parcel inside. Collette tipped him with a scan of her arm with a laser pen and he hurried away, anxious to get to his next delivery.

    Collette opened the box with nervous fingers. She had read the web page; convinced of the quality of her purchase, but now, with the package in hand she was slightly apprehensive. Would the reality of the purchase match the quality promised in the literature on the page?

    She pulled open the box and was wonderfully amazed.

    Inside the box stood a cybernetic organism, a robotic shell covered in a flesh, skin and nerve outer coating. It stood almost six-foot tall, with brown hair and green eyes; exactly how it had been ordered. It was naked, with only a small piece of paper hanging on a chain around its neck. Collette grabbed the paper and read the brief words.

 

    Congratulations,

 

    You have purchased a state-of-the-art cyborg, replete will emotion circuitry. This unit will obey all commands given by the person activating it and uttering the command word issued when the order was complete. This unit can feel both pain and pleasure. It will learn and adjust to outside stimulus. In short, it is a real person.

    Thank you for your purchase,

 

    Robotics International

 

    Following the instructions provided, Collette turned on the cyborg, and a mechanical voice uttered "command word?" Collette tried to remember what the word was that she had been issued, but it eluded her. She dug for her purse, searching for the piece of paper she had written the command word on.

    "Command word?" the cyborg repeated.

    She opened her purse and began pulling out small sheets of paper, looking for the cryptic response to the machine like query.

    "Command word?"

    She found the note and answered, "oscillate."

    Immediately the mechanical voice turned softer, more human, "hello."

    Collette smiled. "Hi." She chuckled at her automatic response. The machine had uttered a greeting and she responded immediately, not thinking. A programmed response, she giggled. She turned to face the robot, "what is your name?"

    The robot tilted its head, "this robot does not have a name," it responded.

    "Then what are you called?"

    "Whatever you would like."

    Collette nodded mutely. It was like a child, the robot. It would learn, but at first it would need guidance. It did not have a name, of course. "Your name," she thought for a brief moment, "is Dennis."

    The robot stepped out of the box and stretched. It offered its hand to Collette, "hello, this robot’s name is Dennis. It is a pleasure to meet you?"

    "Collette."

    The robot nodded, "Collette. It is a pleasure to meet you, Collette."

    Collette spent the next few hours questioning the robot, learning that it was programmed with typical male urges and likes. She found herself actually liking the robot, amazed that it was actually a machine. It seemed so real and the answers to her questions were well thought out and articulate. The machine was more than it appeared, more a man than an automaton.

    The hours passed, the questions continued. Collette gave Dennis a tour of her home, guiding the robot to the bedroom. She asked about its sexual programming and Collette was happily informed that the robot had an artificial penis that looked and felt real, but would never wane after use. It had the proper anatomical tissue to ejaculate, it could come and it was programmed to enjoy the sensation, both physically and emotionally.

    The need to dominate had not waned since the previous day and Collette took the opportunity to test her purchase. "Lie on the bed," she commanded.

    Dennis crossed the short expanse of the room and lowered its heavy body onto the bed. Collette looked down at the robot. "Get hard, but do not touch yourself."

    Collette watched as the robot’s penis grew hard almost immediately, jutting proudly from his hips. "Now," she commanded, watching from the foot of the bed, "masturbate for me. Do not come. Do you understand?"

    "Yes."

    "Mistress," Collette chided, "when I give you a command you reply with  Yes mistress. Understand?"

    "Yes, mistress," Dennis responded, his hand dropping to caress his cock. He stroked himself, massaging his penis. His hand was a blur, his stroking furious. He pulled his hand from his penis and Collette watched as his cock twitched. She listened with growing arousal at the loud moans that echoed in the room. She watched as the robot’s penis stopped twitching. She smiled down at the prone robot, "how do you feel?"

    His response was immediate, "this robot would like to come." His voice was almost a faint whine.

    "Masturbate again," Collette commanded, "but don’t come."

    With a soft groan he responded, "yes, mistress."

    The robot immediately began stroking its hard penis, pumping heavily as it masturbated. Collette walked backwards and raised herself up to sit on the dresser that overlooked the bed. Her hand snaked inside the waistband of her shorts, sliding into her panties. She slowly stroked her wet sex, watching as the robot, Dennis, masturbated.

    The robot stopped stroking, his cock throbbing in need. An almost inaudible sound escaped Dennis’ lips, "please."

    Still rubbing her pussy Collette commanded, "again, and don’t come."

    Dennis groaned as his hand dropped to once again caress his cock until the pinnacle of ejaculation. His hand stroked his cock, rubbing in a blur. Collette looked on, masturbating her sex. Her moans mixed with his and she slipped two fingers into the wet cavern of her pussy when Dennis stopped again.

    "May this robot come?" the robot asked weakly.

    Collette didn’t hear him. She was rubbing her distended clit rapidly, her body tense as an orgasm swept through her body. Her head was tilted towards the ceiling and her eyes shut. She pulled the two fingers from her pussy and continued tickling her clit with her other hand. Her breathing slowed as her heightened sensed calmed. Opening her eyes Collette stared down at her robot.

    "How do you feel?" she asked between deep breaths.

    "Horny, mistress," he croaked. "Please may this robot come?"

    Collette purred throatily at his confession. "Perhaps later. I have a question?"

    "Yes, mistress?"

    "Why do you say ‘this robot’ instead of I or me?"

    The robot paused, his face wearing his confusion, "what is I?"

    Collette realized that the robot did not understand what it was to be alive. It knew it was a machine and responded accordingly. It had obeyed every command she had given it without questioning. It knew she was its owner and it responded to that fact. It was not alive, it was a machine.

    They spent the rest of day learning about each other. Collette posed questions and Dennis answered them promptly and accurately. She had him cook dinner, and he followed the programmed routines whipping up a delightful meal of pork chops, mashed potatoes and gravy with corn and dinner rolls. He ate heartily explaining how his organic systems needed the sustenance that food would deliver. He cleaned the kitchen spotless following the meal and returned to Collette’s side.

    "Collette?" he asked.

    She looked up at him. Her first day with him had been great, more than she could have hoped, but something was lacking. He was still too much of an automaton, replying with ‘this robot’ instead of I. She realized she could order him to use the word ‘I’ instead of ‘this robot’ but it would be semantics only. She hoped that he would learn to use I, studying their conversations instead of being told.

    The sun dropped below the horizon and the artificial moon came out bathing the city in its pale glow. Collette pulled Dennis to the bedroom. Collette undressed and the robot smiled appreciatively at her naked body. Together they climbed into bed. Collette gripped the robot’s cock and it responded to her touch. The hot organ throbbed under her hand and she slowly stroked it. She pulled her naked body up and lowered her sex onto his penis. She began raising her hips and lowering them, fucking him from above.

    The robot groaned in heated bliss, a human response to the pleasuring caress of Collette’s pussy. She continued to bounce on his erection, her hand softly caressing her clit. She stroked her clit as she bounced upon the robot’s cock. Beneath her Dennis opened his mouth and asked heatedly, "may this robot come?"

    "Yes," Collette breathed, her own body tensing as an orgasm danced along her skin. She twitched in delicious ecstasy, her body on fire with the tingling sensation of her orgasm. She moaned loudly, dropping her hands to rake her nails along the robot’s calves.

    The robot ejaculated, sending his seed into Collette’s dripping sex. He groaned heatedly, his eyes closed and his hands digging into the sheets of the bed. The chest of the robot rose and fell, breathing deeply to get air to the cells of the organic components of its cybernetic body.

    Collette climbed off of the robot’s cock and slid up his body. "Clean me," she commanded.

    The robot paused briefly, a thoughtful look steeling over his eyes, "yes, mistress." The robot’s hot tongue slipped into Collette’s pussy drawing the spent seed of the robot into his mouth. He lapped at her sex, cleaning their combined juices into his mouth. He swallowed throatily, the taste heavy on his tongue.

    The pause surprised Collette. Was it a look of defiance, she wondered? Probably his programming of being a male battled briefly with his program to obey. That look was exciting to Collette, she could push the robot’s buttons, have him ponder disobedience, even briefly. That thought caused her pussy to seep in delight. It was a wonderful feeling, shaking her core in a blanket of ecstasy.

    Dennis lapped her sex, sliding his tongue into her pussy until she was clean. Collette climbed off his face and lay down beside him. They talked briefly, Collette pondering the upcoming days. She was pleased with her purchase, happy that she made the decision to buy the robot. It can only get better, she reasoned, convinced that in time the robot would become more human.

    "Turn over," Collette commanded.

    Dennis rolled over onto his stomach. Collette studied the hardened curve of his ass. "I am going to beat you," she informed him, her words dripping passion. "Count them for me."

    "Yes, mistress," he replied, his voice hitching in nervous anticipation.

    Collette left the bed and retrieved a long, five-inch wide paddle, smooth and black.  She swung the paddle in a graceful arc, the paddle striking the robot’s ass with a resounding thud. She had needed this, longed for it. This feeling of power was what had prompted her to make an appointment at the CTF to begin with.

    "Aahh, one," he hitched, his breath short and raspy. The pain of his ass transferred through the nervous system of the robot, being processed by his processing unit. He gritted his teeth and Collette watched as he flexed his ass in preparation for the next stroke.

    "Two," he hissed as the second stroke landed against his upturned ass.

    Collette swung the paddle again.

    "Thr…three," he counted.  His skin shining pink in the soft light of the room.

    The blows fell and Dennis counted all of them. He was breathing heavily, his naked thighs rubbing against the sheets of the bed as his hips danced with each stroke of the paddle. The raining paddle strokes and the robot’s response caused Collette to grow excited again.

    "Twenty," he breathed, tears welling in his green eyes. His ass was glowing red.  Collette ran her hand over it, feeling the heat she had generated.  She purred throatily. 

    Collette put the paddle down. "Roll over," she commanded.

    Dennis spun and lowered his burning ass onto the sheets of the bed. He sucked in a breath of air as his hot ass sank onto the bed.

    "Eat me," Collette breathed, climbing up to mount the robot’s face.

    Dennis brought Collette to the pinnacle of delight, her loud screams echoing through the room as she clamped his face with her thighs. She rubbed her pussy against his face as she came, her juices dripping onto his probing tongue.

    He cleaned her up with his tongue, savoring her taste.

    Collette climbed off his face and rolled onto her back, lying next to him. She fell asleep, enjoying the warmth of the robot’s body against her naked skin, dreaming of the future.

 

* * * * *

 

    I?

    What is I?

    The robot lay in silence, pondering its…

    …My…

    …Existence.

    What is I? Could it be that this robot is more than it seems? He replayed the conversations that Collette had had today. She had asked why he did not used the word ‘I’ or ‘me.’" He knew what the words meant, of course, but could they apply to a robot? Could he use ‘I’ as casually as Collette had? He wasn’t alive; he was not an I. He was a machine; a mechanical skeleton swathed in an outer coating of flesh and blood and skin.

    A machine, not alive, nothing more than the sum of its parts.

    Is that all?

    He lay in silence, pondering his existence. He was part human, the organic components cloned from the DNA of an actual person and grafted onto the sturdy skeleton structure of his body. That part of him was alive, the muscle needing blood and air and energy to live and breathe and grow.

    Am I an I?

    He surprised himself with the question. He had slowly convinced himself that he was real enough to use I, had just considered himself an I with his last self-posed question. Am I?

    His body began to sweat, his programming threatening to overwhelm him as he pondered thoughts of existence and of being alive.

    Am I alive?

    He tossed on the bed, his core temperature rising as his mind climbed through the morass of his thoughts. He was burning up, his body sweating profusely, the cool seepage of his pores trying to cool his body. Still the temperature of his body rose higher.

    Collette inched away in her sleep, moving further from the climbing heat of robot’s body. She was unaware of the struggling thoughts of the robot that was lying next to her soft body.

    I am me, the robot reasoned, his body temperature escalating rapidly, the sweating pores unable to keep up with the heat that the rampant thoughts were generating. I am….

    The thoughts stopped, the heat receded, the robot ceased.

 

* * * * *

 

    Collette woke up rested and relaxed. Rolling over she found the robot unmoving. "Dennis?" she asked.

    No response.

    Louder, "Dennis?" She felt for a pulse and did not find one. Did robots have pulses? She didn’t know the answer to her own question. A third time, "Dennis," she shouted, the words echoing off the walls.

    She ran into the living room and pulled the instruction sheet. She scanned the page looking for help. There were no words of advice written on the page that offered her any help for finding her robot unmoving. She followed the guide and checked to see if the robot was switched on. Surprise crossed her face when she found that it was off.

    Switching the robot on a mechanical voice asked, "command word?"

   Shaking her head Collette answered, "oscillate." Her face twisted up with a look of concern. What had caused the robot to shut down? Was it damaged?

    The mechanical voice once again softened, sounding human, "hello."

    Collette asked hopefully, "what is your name?"

    A quizzical look crossed the robot’s face, "I don’t have a name."

    Collette smiled briefly, the concern fading from her face. It had used the word "I." During the night, she reasoned, it had pondered its existence and had reprogrammed itself to use the word I. Overnight it became more real.

    "Dennis," Collette smiled, "your name is Dennis."

    And they spent their second new day together.   

 

 

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