Robot

Part 6: Charlotte With a start, Jill regained consciousness inside her cocoon. She could see nothing but the milky white of the super plastic wrapped around her head and could feel the breathing tube in her mouth like a tongue depressor. The paralytic drug the Arachno-Bot injected her with was only then starting to wear off, there was still a bit of a pins and needles sensation in her limbs. ...

Part 2 “How are you feeling this morning, Clarke?” “Mmm… Is it morning already?” “Yes. And your body should have finished breaking down the aphrodisiac molecules that I transferred to you by accident. It’s been seventy-two hours.” “You are so technical about everything. Well, yesterday I could barely feel it, so I guess I’m no longer affected now.” After Alice had explained to me that her saliva was defective and that it had affected my sexual impulses greatly, I had told her that there was nothing wrong with exploring our sexuality until her appointment to get tuned. But after another day of wild lesbian sex, I was a bit uneasy about that statement. She noticed it and prevented me from kissing her just to show me that her saliva effect was indeed temporary. As frustrating as it was not to have sex with her during that period, this withdrawal experience confirmed what I thought; she wouldn’t do anything to harm me or take over my life. She cared. ...

Part 1 When I pressed my thumb on the reader, my personal info appeared on the computer screen sitting on the shiny white desk. The lady behind it seemed detached from the moment as she punched a few things in her system, making sure to make me feel unimportant. A bit of good customer service wouldn’t have hurt, but somehow, I couldn’t blame her; her job recently got very dull and depressing, and it was no fault of her own. Going from a skilled bot customizer to an irrelevant cashier in a matter of a day was probably not what she had in mind when she got this job. ...

Part 5: Jill’s Gambit They were back at the warehouse. Jill, Fred, and several members of Fred’s team were gathered around as Robert was seated at a computer workstation plugged into the Arachno-bot CPU. His jaw hung low as he read dense, seemingly endless lines of code. He rubbed his eyes then turned to the others. “This is next level stuff,” Robert said. “It looks like the person behind all this wrote, not just programs, but their own custom programming language exclusively for these machines. I recognize a few things that might be conditionals, loops, and variables, but most of the rest of it is new to me. It’s a lot of code too, it could take me weeks or even months to get to the end of this.” ...

Part 4: New Leads The three of them stood on the beach next to the inactive Arachno-Bot, one of the new models with the turrets. Fred signaled a flatbed truck to back up close to the lifeless mechanical monster. He and the driver then worked quickly to lower the bed and hook it up to the wench. Jill and a member of Fred’s team, Robert, watched as the robot was loaded onto the large vehicle. He wore faded jeans, work boots, and a black Ghost In The Shell T-shirt. The sandy blond thirty-something stroked the bushy goatee on his chin and lamented, “You know, it’s a real shame.” ...

Part 1: Angela Angela sat on the couch in her living room, dressed only in her nightgown and slippers, TV remote in hand. She twirled her curly, light brown hair with her finger as she watched the latest episode of The Voice. Right in the middle of one contestant’s tone-deaf rendition of Queen’s We are the Champions, the broadcast cut to the local news station. On screen, the anchorman adjusted his tie nervously and said. “We interrupt your regularly scheduled program with an urgent announcement…” “The hell?!” Angela said, putting the remote on the arm of the couch and sitting up. “We’ve received word tonight of a series of strange and disturbing abductions,” the anchorman continued, “all around the city, some kind of spider-like machines are attacking women, wrapping them in plastic cocoons, and absconding with them.” “You’ve got to be shitting me,” Angela snorted, “is this someone’s idea of a bad joke?” “No one knows yet who’s behind these abductions or where these ‘Arachno-Bots’, as they’re being called, came from.” The anchorman wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead with a tissue. “Authorities are advising women to stay in their homes and lock their doors. It may be necessary to declare martial law and mobilize National Guard units against these mysterious machines.” Angela heard a noise outside her house and turned off the television. Brushing aside the curtains and glancing out her window, her eyes widened with shock. It hadn’t been a joke after all; there was an army of them on her front lawn and all over the neighborhood! Each of them was as big as a subcompact car, painted a matte black, walked on eight hydraulically-powered legs, and had a head with eight red eye lights and an array of sensors. Several of these Arachno-Bots were already carrying off cocooned women on their backs, wrapped head-to-toe in a white plastic that resembled the pallet wrap used in warehouses. Each cocoon had a breathing tube where the captive’s mouth would logically be. One of the ones not so encumbered turned and started moving towards her front door! “Oh shit!” Angela turned and instinctively ran for her kitchen. She rifled through her cutlery drawer for something to use as a weapon, but none of the knives in the drawer looked like it would do any good against the kind of armor those mechanical monstrosities had. She found herself wishing she hadn’t recently broken up with her boyfriend, Mark. Sure, her friends considered him a kook, but he and that arsenal of guns he so treasured might have come in handy right about now. There was a loud pounding on the front door accompanied by the sound of the metal hinges and other door hardware starting to give way. One of those things was trying to get into the house! She ran out to the garage, looking around desperately for something she could use to fend it off. The best she could find was a rusty sledgehammer among some old tools Mark had left behind when he moved out last week. She glanced up at the hatch in the garage ceiling, and the attic ladder. She thought, If that damned thing wants to get me so bad, make it work for it. Even carrying the sledgehammer in one hand, she practically flew up the ladder and into the attic at the sound of cracking wood and the loud crash as the front door fell to the living room floor. It was in the house now! She quickly closed the attic hatch and hit the light switch. She needed something heavy to move over it as a barricade. Judging by all the noises she could hear below, the Arachno-Bot was already tearing the house apart looking for her. She scanned all the cobweb- and dust-covered junk that was up there with her; the old China cabinet, her grandmother’s old Singer sewing machine, and a vast assortment of cardboard boxes and old luggage. She could only guess at how strong those machines were, but hopefully the combined weight of two or more of those items would slow the mechanized monster that invaded her home long enough for her to come up with an escape plan of some kind. Setting the sledgehammer down over by the boxes, she got behind the China cabinet and pushed it to the hatch with all the strength she could muster. She moved the sewing machine over with it and then piled as many of the old trunks and suitcases as she could on top of them. Other than the garage hatch she had just sealed off, the only other ways in or out of the attic were the roof access hatch over by the chimney and a window that overlooked the backyard. The window was too small for her to squeeze through, so the roof hatch was it, if it came to that. Sitting down on a box by where she put down her only weapon, she listened carefully for any more sounds out of the mechanical intruder downstairs. It was eerily quiet down there. She didn’t enjoy thinking about what damage it was doing to her home, or what it would do to her insurance premiums when it was all over. She’d left her iPhone downstairs in the bedroom, so there was no way to call for help, or even keep herself occupied with a game of Candy Crush. Then the pounding started again and the objects she barricaded the hatch with shook. She jumped to her feet and grabbed the sledgehammer. Damnit, she thought. It knows where I am now! Soon the Arachno-Bot was doing more than just pounding on the hatch, the floor all around it was getting ready to buckle. There was no choice, it was time to get out of there. She ran to the second ladder, climbing up to the roof hatch. She was on the roof next to the chimney. Most of the other Arachno-Bots had, thankfully, taken their prisoners and left the area. Aside from that really persistent intruder who had been bashing it’s way through her home to get at her, there were just two more one street over to the north. One was in someone’s backyard, smashing in a set of sliding glass doors into that house as a tiny Chihuahua in a pink collar barked and growled at it. The other was across the street, attempting to break into a two story McMansion via the stained glass and dark oak front doors. How the hell am I going to get down from here? Angela wondered. Jumping down from the roof of a house, even one only a single story tall, was a great way to get badly injured; it didn’t matter if you tried to land in something soft. But what was the alternative? Other than letting that thing have her? She didn’t have much longer to weigh her options as a massive, hydraulically-powered limb burst through the shingles and, not long after, her pursuer climbed out of the large hole and onto the roof! It glared at her with its eight red eyes and advanced menacingly towards her. It was a small wonder the house didn’t completely collapse from all the damage the bizarre contraption had done. Angela took as strong a stance as she could on the roof’s slope and readied the sledgehammer, resolved to take her best swing at the metal monster’s head as soon as it was in range. But to her dismay, the Arachno-Bot deftly caught the hammer with its front legs and yanked it out of her hands. There she was, disarmed and cornered by the giant spider-like robot with no escape that didn’t entail the risk of broken bones or worse. She was backed up against the bricks of the chimney as it came closer and seized her. As it grappled with her, a hypodermic needle extended out of the head and plunged itself into her thigh. Her body went numb and her limbs no longer obeyed her brain’s commands to move. The Arachno-Bot raised up on four of its legs as the others moved Angela into position beneath its chassis. She was helpless but to watch wide-eyed as a hatch opened and an arm bearing a thick roll of the white plastic extended out. She could see the machine had seven additional rolls onboard as reserves. As the Arachno-Bot’s limbs spun her dizzyingly, the plastic wrapped around her in a single layer from her feet to her shoulders. There was a brief pause as a second, smaller arm placed a breathing tube in her mouth and secured it with medical tape. As the spinning and wrapping resumed, Angela passed out long before the machine finished wrapping her in a grand total of ten head-to-toe layers of plastic. When it was finished with her, it placed her on its back and automatic restraints strapped her down tight. The Arachno-Bot climbed down from the house with its captive and joined the other two as they were leaving with their own captures.

Chapter 1 - Professor Grobyc’s Hall of Mannequins Mist drifted through the trunks as the darkened path wound its way through the woods on the edge of town, eerily lit with the orange glow from the jack-o-lanterns hanging from the branches along the way. Here and there garishly coloured posters hung from the trees, ‘This way to Professor Rybcogs Halloween Carnevil’. In the distance light flickered and swirled through the branches. The sounds of haunting music, screams and laughter mixed with the rumbling, crashing, throbbing sounds of the Carnevil.Helena walked with the others towards the light, cool mist driven on the night breeze stiffening her nipples through her thin black shirt. ...

It was XeneSusan9984 that gave me the idea to write this. We were playing one night and I had driven her to her twentieth or thirtieth orgasm for the night. Susan is a painslut and I had her tied up tightly against a Saint Andrew’s cross and was flogging her with a Devil’s hair flogger. The strips of leather for a Devil’s hair flogger are cut so thin and there are so many of them that it is almost like flogging someone with a wig. Except a wig isn’t that heavy and the hairs of a wig don’t swing like the ultra-thin slices of leather do, especially when they are wetted down with a mixture of water and olive oil that has been marinating ghost peppers. ...

Interview with Liam from the Cyborg and Upload Rights Archive I had known Ruby since we were both about three years old, and we’ve been the bestest of friends, so close we were like siblings. Growing up we played together, studied together, got into trouble and mischief together, pretty much we did everything together. You would think that would make it natural for us to fall in love, get married, have kids and live happily ever after. If you thought that, keep dreaming, life is stranger than that. ...

(Having read ‘Be careful what you wish for’ this morning and loved the concept I decided to write along similar lines, only with a happy ending for the lady concerned. A very slight resemblance to the Cinderella storyline isnt entirely coincidental!) Stephanie woke up and pushed the sleep from her eyes, and sitting up in her bed tried to push her mousey brown hair into a reasonable state of respectability. Putting her glasses on and peering at the mirror did little to bring a smile to her face, even though it was her 18th Birthday. A plain face looked back at her which though not ugly, would certainly never be described as pretty, let alone beautiful. Unlike her 2 older sisters, Lorna and Emily who were not only lucky enough to have long, well kept golden blonde locks, they were also absolute stunners who were magnets to the guys, and as if this wasn’t enough, they both had large, full breasts while poor Stephanie could just about manage 2 ‘fried eggs’ on her chest. She wasn’t really jealous of them, but did despair of why they seemingly had everything, while she seemingly had nothing. What she didn’t know about was the very special 18th birthday present that awaited her. ...

Woman to Rubber/Bondage TF When working in a factory that specializes in molding large amounts of rubber into different objects you learn to be careful. In my time working here, which is about 2 years, nothing has happened but I knew how dangerous these automated machines could be. My name is Lynda Caves. I am 25 years old and would call myself a fairly average girl. I have shoulder length dark brown hair, a decently curved body with a matching plump butt and moderate c-cup breasts. This had been my dream job after graduating from college with my degree in mechanical engineering. I was being paid a small fortune to maintain and create new machines that the company used to better itself. It was perfect. I came to work on a Friday to run basic checkups on all of the machines. The first on my list was the ball maker. As the name suggests it makes those giant rubber balls that exercise joints use and are sold at supermarkets for kids. After I fixed the wiring on its faulty conveyor belt I moved on to the clothing machine. It was used to turn rubber into all sorts of kinky clothing for those interested in it to purchase from our online catalogue. It was running fine as usual so I kept on going with my normal schedule to a machine that produces… well the more personal toys that we made. Women or men could custom order sexual items from our store and we would personally see to it that they were perfect for them. I had actually used my employee discount on this option quite a few times. Other than a few misplaced dildos that missed the chute on the end heading to the packaging section of the factory everything was running just swell. The last stop on my afternoon maintenance route was a machine that made rubber sex dolls. This was actually the most complicated machine in the entire factory seeing as how the machine needed to steadily fill itself with the proper amount of what we called blanks, or latex doll bases that were shaped and some even looked like various women. We had shelves upon shelves back in the storage room of blanks that were systematically placed in different categories and columns based on their looks. Each afternoon a mechanical scanner would sort through each new deposit of blanks that we ordered and place them on racks to be cleaned and then used when the order came for one of those specifications. My boss Ms. Fredrick told me yesterday that she had to cancel the last order because the machine was jammed or something along those lines. So hiking up my jeans I entered the tunnel portion of the machine with my flashlight and began searching for the problem. I searched high and low and eventually came out at the end of the machine in the storage area. I didn’t come in here that often but when I did the sight still astounded me. All around me there were rows of large amounts of rubber items or pure rubber. Then off to the left directly next to the doll machine there was a large wall stacked at least 12 rows high of different looking blank dolls, divided right down the middle by if they had a face or not and then sub sectioned off after that. I turned my head slightly at a buzzing noise and immediately knew what the problem was. The robot, a female looking one that was dressed like a maid that we called Janice, looked to be short circuiting while sorting through the newest order of blanks. Laughing I walked over behind her and swiftly powered her off, giving me the opportunity to fix the wires that had become tangled after weeks of no maintenance. Sighing I switch her back on and she begins moving as usual. “Do you feel better now Janice?” I ask as I take a seat on one of the storage crates. This was one of the perks of this job. I had programmed Janice to be the best friend at work I wouldn’t get in a factory like this. She only had a basic AI but it was enough to have conversation and mess with her to make it worth the work and interaction. She turned to me after depositing a blank that resembled a black woman. “Why yes Lynda, thank you for fixing me again. It is a pain trying to work through malfunction.” She said finishing with a robotic laugh as she went back to work. ...

The company had been making personal robots for over twenty years, Susan had been working there for about two years ever since she graduated high school. Will had hired her and helped her learn the company so she had moved up and was now his administrative assistant who secretly loved him. Susan spent almost every night bound tightly to her bed with the large gag filling her mouth and the leather hood sealed tight around her head keeping her blind and deaf while she fantasized the large vibrating cock strapped deep in her pussy was his. When Will introduced his fiancé to her she was crushed and immediately knew she had to get rid of the woman developing a plan in her head. ...

“Aoi, I told you to put away your games and clean up!” Haruko yelled from across the house. Aoi winced at the sound of her mother’s voice. It was a lazy summer afternoon, and she had spent it the same way she’d spent every other day of college summer vacation: Sitting at home, playing video games. “Uhh, sorry! I’ll do it later!” she yelled back. Her mother’s nagging grew worse every day. Not that one could blame her; Aoi was a mess. The living room was littered with empty plates and discarded candy wrappers. Schoolbooks and untouched printouts were sitting in piles around the couch. ...

“Aoi, I told you to put away your games and clean up!” Haruko yelled from across the house. Aoi winced at the sound of her mother’s voice. It was a lazy summer afternoon, and she had spent it the same way she’d spent every other day of college summer vacation: Sitting at home, playing video games. “Uhh, sorry! I’ll do it later!” she yelled back. Her mother’s nagging grew worse every day. Not that one could blame her; Aoi was a mess. The living room was littered with empty plates and discarded candy wrappers. Schoolbooks and untouched printouts were sitting in piles around the couch. ...

“You wanted to see me?” Paul Scott, owner of Scott Home Automation, didn’t enjoy being called to a customer’s home. A small company with barely fifty employees, SHA had pioneered the art of full home automation, using proprietary, state of the art technology developed by Scott himself. So far, customer satisfaction had been high, with customers asking to see him only to express their delight at his company’s work. With these two, however, he had the sinking feeling all was not right. ...

“You wanted to see me?” Paul Scott, owner of Scott Home Automation, didn’t enjoy being called to a customer’s home. A small company with barely fifty employees, SHA had pioneered the art of full home automation, using proprietary, state of the art technology developed by Scott himself. So far, customer satisfaction had been high, with customers asking to see him only to express their delight at his company’s work. With these two, however, he had the sinking feeling all was not right. ...

At first these inverted trash can looking robots had been used in hotels as mere novelties, then as domestic servants in private houses with their greater capabilities, and later in the military. I had patiently waited to see what the newest models had to offer, and I was glad I had as the technology of these newest ones was unbelievable. They boasted artificial intelligence, (as did many other things these days), and adaptive reasoning the salesman had boasted. ...

The two things that have fascinated Jim since he was young were robots and bondage. Jim always liked to be on the losing team of cops and robbers and always wanted to be the robots he saw in the movies. It was more the robots that drove him to be an engineer in hope to be able to build a real one but as he learned about his trade the more he began to apply his skills towards bondage. ...

It was the day after we’d slept together for the first time that Tom told me he was a real magic user, not just a stage magician. Of course, I didn’t believe him, so he showed me. That first time was something simple: levitation. He sat down on the floor, cross-legged, and then floated up to my eye level. It was a neat parlor trick, I admitted, but I was still unconvinced. So he waved his right hand over his left arm, and then removed his left arm at the elbow. I screamed, but he kept on smiling. ...

“Well, I guess this is the place.” Robin McGillis said as she held up and matched the address in the paper with the address on the building. The place certainly didn’t look like a modeling agency. She hadn’t had a job for months. Robin walked up and knocked on the door. A young woman with her blonde hair pulled back in a pony tail answered. She had a pleasant smile encased in orange lipstick that matched her nail polish. What really surprised Robin was the white lab coat she wore. “You must be the young lady who called about the job.” ...

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’s mind. The extra bedroom had become a neat and orderly construction zone stacked with raw materials (wood, fabric, foam, leather, polymer resins, etc…) 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 “Knuckles” 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, “I don’t know, be creative, surprise me with something you think I will like.” ...