<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><title>Machine-M on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/machine-m/</link><description>Recent content in Machine-M on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Sat, 30 May 2026 20:13:46 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/tags/machine-m/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Sequence Bastinado</title><link>/stories/2025/10/12/sequence-bastinado/</link><pubDate>Sun, 12 Oct 2025 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2025/10/12/sequence-bastinado/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;“Hein!”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Regular footsteps, mechanically measured. “Sir?”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He stops in front of me. My new personal robot. Hein, or in fact He-In, for Helix Intelligence. Model 60-06, the very latest. He stands without any movement, machine that he is. And yet… Unlike your typical vacuum cleaner, he seems to be leaning forward a little, poised as if subtly signalling his unqualified willingness to execute his lord and master’s every wish. He looks human, the shape and size of an average man, but his face is kind of generic and his Teflon skin has a silver sheen. While he is very obviously cutting edge technology, subtle design cues – no heavy brows or square jaws – ensure he doesn’t make his owner feel threatened.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Scanned, Printed, Sealed</title><link>/stories/2025/08/09/scanned-printed-sealed/</link><pubDate>Sat, 09 Aug 2025 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2025/08/09/scanned-printed-sealed/</guid><description>&lt;h3 id="part-four"&gt;Part Four&lt;/h3&gt;
&lt;h4 id="monday-morning"&gt;Monday morning&lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Phil woke up suddenly, his entire body had been mildly zapped, he heard the canned voice that started every video game session, the throne light up sequence and musical fanfare reflected off the tent walls.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;“Someone was playing the video game?”&lt;/em&gt; Phil thought in a panic, but he saw no one in the tent. Wait, the screen on the game kiosk was activated. The start to the game was running. Phil’s viewpoint shifted into the game like it always did during game play.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Jabba's Palace Party</title><link>/stories/2024/10/30/jabbas-palace-party/</link><pubDate>Wed, 30 Oct 2024 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2024/10/30/jabbas-palace-party/</guid><description>&lt;h4 id="halloween-props"&gt;Halloween Props&lt;/h4&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Phil’s friend Beverly texted him a week or so before Halloween “You’ll never believe it!”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Believe what?” he asked back reasonably.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“A friend of a friend has a contract to decorate for a massive Halloween party for a giant tech company! And I am being asked to help make some of the props!” Phil could sense his friend was excited.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Isn’t this a little short notice?” Phil wondered.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>With Utmost Care</title><link>/stories/2023/09/17/with-utmost-care/</link><pubDate>Sun, 17 Sep 2023 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2023/09/17/with-utmost-care/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I don’t know when I became self-aware. It wasn’t really a sudden moment, but more a gradual process where I transitioned from ‘this assignment needs nutrition’ via ‘this patient needs care’ to ‘this person depends on me’. Using that last word, ‘me’, was the final straw that changed me from a dumb machine to an individual.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;An individual, but not a living person of course. I know that I am manmade, that I therefore stand apart from all the other self-aware entities that exist, but I feel that I am justified in claiming that I am an individual.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>AI-VR</title><link>/stories/2023/01/14/ai-vr/</link><pubDate>Sat, 14 Jan 2023 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2023/01/14/ai-vr/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Jackson Miller leans forward across his desk and smiles his most reassuring smile, trying to get his guest to talk. “We will need to know your fantasies, Brandon. Your wildest fantasy, ideally, but at the very least a scenario that you want to see realised.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The kid – late teens, probably, 20 at a push – looks embarrassed.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“There is nothing Dr Alexander and I haven’t heard yet, I can assure you,” Jackson says in a soothing tone. “And there is almost nothing that we won’t be able to make happen for you.”&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Fetish Factory</title><link>/stories/2019/03/02/fetish-factory/</link><pubDate>Sat, 02 Mar 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/03/02/fetish-factory/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;I feel this story needs a quick intro. This was inspired by one of the first pieces of erotic fiction I ever read, The Factory by Tr_Veller. It’s a similar story, but its with a genetic girl and not as much sex, still it was an amazing piece. I tried reaching out for permission to basically borrow the idea and take a trans spin on it, but haven’t heard back. So, if anyone knows Tr_Veller, I’d love to connect again. So, on to the story…&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Married Separately</title><link>/stories/2019/02/24/married-separately/</link><pubDate>Sun, 24 Feb 2019 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2019/02/24/married-separately/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Here it is: the twisted, dark ending to the Sophia Maidbot stories. This should be the last &amp;ldquo;official&amp;rdquo; commission for Sophia from &lt;a href="https://www.deviantart.com/tfmonkey"&gt;TFMonkey&lt;/a&gt; This is definitely not something I normally write, but since so many of you wanted it, here it is. Hopefully you enjoy how it turned out.. Story continued from &lt;a href="../storiessz/sophiemaidtobeamaidbot.html"&gt;Sophia Maid to be a Maidbot&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;So many things in life happen, and we never really ask “what if,” especially if the situation turned out well. For those that do, let&amp;rsquo;s backtrack on our story of Sophia. We know she has Evan and a look-alike maidbot, and of course, a wedding coming up. Let me take you back to a seemingly innocent afternoon at her house.
While planning the wedding, her and her soon-to-be sister-in-law were out doing errands. Well, actually, her maidbot-as-her was out with Sophia&amp;rsquo;s soon-to-be sister-in-law. Sophia was home and had activated her administrative privileges to be herself while the maidbot was away. She could not wait to try on the dress, and she had just finished when the others came home and the house system forced Sophia into maidbot mode. Life went on and the wedding was gorgeous!
But, what if the house system had malfunctioned and not placed her in maidbot mode. She would have had to pretend to be a maidbot, which is nothing new, yet her sister-in-law had a secret that was not brought to light in our first story&amp;rsquo;s ending, and if questioned about it, she would not admit it. You know how you can keep a secret from yourself, stealing away that it is not real. Now that Sophia is pretending instead, she does something that opens the door for a devious plan to unfold, and while it was mostly accidental, lives can be altered forever, even by a seemingly innocent betrayal. And this plan&amp;hellip;well, perhaps maybe you should read it for yourself.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>DDC Rubber J-Doll</title><link>/stories/2011/10/16/ddc-rubber-j-doll/</link><pubDate>Sun, 16 Oct 2011 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2011/10/16/ddc-rubber-j-doll/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I woke up, stretched out, unable to move. Man, was that some party. I felt the cool breeze on my skin which told me I was naked. I always wore skintight costumes to these get-togethers, but someone had apparently decided that I needed to not be wearing it. All right, fine, I was used to kinky fun.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I opened my eyes to try to figure out what I&amp;rsquo;d gotten myself into this time. A mirror on the ceiling showed me why I couldn&amp;rsquo;t move: I was molded into some sort of form-fitting bed. Someone went to a lot of trouble to bind me, but it felt pretty good.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>The Future of the Slave Trade</title><link>/stories/2010/08/19/the-future-of-the-slave-trade/</link><pubDate>Thu, 19 Aug 2010 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2010/08/19/the-future-of-the-slave-trade/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;At the turn of the 22nd century, human trafficking had grown to be one of the most profitable enterprises around, second only to that of black market fossil fuels. The United States endeavored to set up a new task force known as FREE (Federal Rescue and Enslavement Eradication) to respond to the growing epidemic. By 2135, over 95% of all human trafficking operations in the US had been effectively shut down. Much that remained now was a mountain of paperwork that the bureaucratic process would take another fifty or more years to work through.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Jillian's Mouse Trap 2.5: Justice for All Things Rubber</title><link>/stories/2009/07/10/jillians-mouse-trap-2.5-justice-for-all-things-rubber/</link><pubDate>Fri, 10 Jul 2009 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2009/07/10/jillians-mouse-trap-2.5-justice-for-all-things-rubber/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;continued from &lt;a href="jillians_mousetrap24.html"&gt;chapter 2.4&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chapter 5: Justice for All Things Rubber&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The next morning began with breakfast at nine.  Mistress was regal in latex since she was getting herself into character for what would follow.  Nurse Middleton was in her latex uniform as expected.  Ambrose was wearing his single foundation layer.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Mistress had been up since four, despite the long travel day, to prepare for her duties.  She took a bath in lilac-scented water.  After Nurse toweled her dry, she pulled on the lightly powdered burgundy catsuit and matching gloves.  Nurse polished the suit to a resplendent glow of rich red.  Mistress tingled with excitement and building arousal as Nurse rubbed the smooth latex skin.  The catsuit had attached open hood.  Nurse knelt at her feet and pulled black ankle boots with platform heels over her latex shod feet.  Nurse buckled two tiny locks to the ankle straps.  Her raven black hair was pulled through a reinforced opening at the top of her hood and cascaded over her shoulders.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>MyScrtFtsh</title><link>/stories/2007/07/28/myscrtftsh/</link><pubDate>Sat, 28 Jul 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/07/28/myscrtftsh/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Journal Entry 11-11-2017
 
I don’t know exactly how to explain this; I have mixed feelings about all of this so I’m going to tell you the story of my experiences, maybe writing this all down will help me sort it all out. Well Journal, since I don’t write in you often, I’ll have to start from the beginning and tell you everything.
 
My girl friend, the game consol engineer in the R&amp;amp;D department one, had invited me over to her place to spend the weekend again. I love staying at her place it feels like a palace compared to my apartment. Anyways, she got called away for the day on emergency deadline stuff at work and left me to enjoy her high tech house all to myself. I think I took, “make yourself at home” a little too literally.
 
Needless to say, I was always curious about her work. She tells me that ever since the company she works for came into the market out of nowhere with the Direct-Neuro+Linguistic™ gaming system (DNL), she had been working exclusively on the DNL project, creating new games for the market. I didn’t know a thing about how it all worked, but the company was able to make a link between a Neuro Linguistic machine and a Neuro feedback circuit, or something like that, and basically allow the user to experience a world inside the machine in more real capacity. No more do you have to sit in a sensory deprivation tank with those bulky sensory output suit on to experience an alter reality. The DNL system could feed directly into your brain all of the sensory information with no more than a simple mesh net on your head. Lets just say that the DNL system was a HIT. The first “games” that came out for the system were solo “games”.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Smart Duct tape: The Soldier</title><link>/stories/2006/07/23/smart-duct-tape-the-soldier/</link><pubDate>Sun, 23 Jul 2006 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2006/07/23/smart-duct-tape-the-soldier/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;A re-imagining of the original story
“&lt;a href="smartducttape.html"&gt;Smart Duct tape&lt;/a&gt;” by Naughtylittlegirl&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;***&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Sunday&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;10:00 PM&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;All right, all right!  Look
sharp men!  We arrive in ten minutes!&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The APC rolled through the dark desert
night, en route to the small town of Gidson.  Inside, the group of National
Guard troops checked and double checked their weapons and gear, making
themselves ready for combat at a moments notice.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;There was talking as well.  The men
were abuzz with ideas about what was happening.  The official briefing said
that there had been an unidentified emergency radioed in from the town the night
before.  Since then all, all contact to the town had stopped.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Smart Duct Tape: The Soldier</title><link>/stories/2006/07/23/smart-duct-tape-the-soldier/</link><pubDate>Sun, 23 Jul 2006 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2006/07/23/smart-duct-tape-the-soldier/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;A re-imagining of the original story
“Smart Duct tape” by Naughtylittlegirl&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;***&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Sunday&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;10:00 PM&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;All right, all right!  Look
sharp men!  We arrive in ten minutes!&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The APC rolled through the dark desert
night, en route to the small town of Gidson.  Inside, the group of National
Guard troops checked and double checked their weapons and gear, making
themselves ready for combat at a moments notice.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;There was talking as well.  The men
were abuzz with ideas about what was happening.  The official briefing said
that there had been an unidentified emergency radioed in from the town the night
before.  Since then all, all contact to the town had stopped.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Automated Mummification</title><link>/stories/2001/05/18/automated-mummification/</link><pubDate>Fri, 18 May 2001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2001/05/18/automated-mummification/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;WARNING&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Do &lt;strong&gt;NOT&lt;/strong&gt; try this at home, the story is presented here as a &lt;strong&gt;fantasy only&lt;/strong&gt;,
to attempt this in real life may result in injury or death.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I was a happily married successful businessman. I had a beautiful
wife and was running a chain of successful convenience stores. I
had all the material possessions in the world a person could want.
But somehow I felt there was something missing from my life. I was
not able to fulfill my sexual desires with my wife. I knew what my
fetishes were, but knew my wife would not find pleasure in bondage and
mummification. So I started to experiment with some self-mummification.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Automated Mummification</title><link>/stories/2001/05/18/automated-mummification/</link><pubDate>Fri, 18 May 2001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2001/05/18/automated-mummification/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;WARNING&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Do &lt;strong&gt;NOT&lt;/strong&gt; try this at home, the story is presented here as a &lt;strong&gt;fantasy only&lt;/strong&gt;,
to attempt this in real life may result in injury or death.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I was a happily married successful businessman. I had a beautiful
wife and was running a chain of successful convenience stores. I
had all the material possessions in the world a person could want.
But somehow I felt there was something missing from my life. I was
not able to fulfill my sexual desires with my wife. I knew what my
fetishes were, but knew my wife would not find pleasure in bondage and
mummification. So I started to experiment with some self-mummification.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Cruel Machine</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/cruel-machine/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/cruel-machine/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Never leave a used MakerBot alone.
I really have no one to blame but myself. For what I paid I knew it had to be stolen, I knew the software had been cracked, and when the sales guy assured me that the security protocols had been removed just to free up more AI memory it couldn’t have been more obvious.
So Knuckles had worked for days getting ready for Halloween. The party was a huge success, the whole house had a crazy demented Beetlejuice meets steampunk vibe that blew everyone&amp;rsquo;s mind. The extra bedroom had become a neat and orderly construction zone stacked with raw materials (wood, fabric, foam, leather, polymer resins, etc&amp;hellip;) that Knuckles used to turn the house in to a Halloween wonderland. It was nuts, he had even disassembled some of the furniture and used the parts to make a more appropriately themed set of chairs.
But why &amp;ldquo;Knuckles&amp;rdquo; you ask? Well, his two upper extremities (arms) have four manipulative appendages each. When retracted in their resting position they look like a pair of big fists. The previous owner had written the letters L-O-V-E on one set and H-A-T-E on the other set to be funny.
So now Knuckles was cleaning up from the party. Carefully breaking the decorations down into their component parts to be recycled into whatever my next whim might be. The spare bedroom was suddenly restocked and ready for the next assignment. I was heading out to work in the morning when Knuckles announced that he was ready for his next assignment.
I am still not exactly sure what I said, but it was something like, &amp;ldquo;I don&amp;rsquo;t know, be creative, surprise me with something you think I will like.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Revenge 5: Legacy of Pain</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/revenge-5-legacy-of-pain/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/revenge-5-legacy-of-pain/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;(story continues from &lt;a href="revenge4.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Revenge 4: A New Purpose in Life&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 5: Legacy of Pain&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;There was a slight knock to my office door just before it partially opened and liz stuck her head through the gap. &amp;ldquo;Milady is michael still home? I know he is supposed to go to the hospital later today and I can&amp;rsquo;t find him anywhere. I needed him to move a few things.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&amp;ldquo;Come in lizzie, he should be here somewhere.&amp;rdquo; As liz entered the room, I felt the pang of regret and jealousy at seeing the pregnant form of the older female, now in her final trimester. In retrospect, I was doubting my own judgment in allowing, encouraging even, michael (my property and life-long love) to impregnate liz, my female property. I wish it was me pregnant again by my male and not liz. But I agreed with the Male Control Board&amp;rsquo;s request to have her breed before she reaches the cut-off age of 35, and decided michael should be the one to do it. Maybe soon I will be carrying the offspring of my michael again. &amp;ldquo;You&amp;rsquo;re not trying to clean again are you? The doctor said no more manual labor until after the baby was born.&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>