Gromet's PlazaMachine Stories

Robotrix

by S M Ackerman

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© Copyright 2010 - S M Ackerman - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-F; machine/f; bond; scifi; forced; boxed; toys; caught; hum; cons; X

A LITTLE HISTORY.

My name is S M Ackerman and I am the diarist for (The Diary of Miss Whippy Cane) she is a professional dominatrix and the owner of an established house that caters for the fetishistic desires of selected clients. The story you are about to be granted access to is taken from my client notes, all names have been altered for her clients privacy, and the copy write is held in full by myself, S M Ackerman. This tale is not included in, or an exert from, the above diary and is made available free of charge to all genuine readers over the age of 18 in the UK or as is applicable else where please.

Enjoy if you will.

S.M.

ROBOTRIX.

Sentence has already been passed on me by the courts, I have been unanimously found guilty by the Committee of Four, and under law for my crime there is but one punishment, and that is death. There is no chance in the normal way of things for my sentence to be reprieved, unless ‘total innocence’ is proven, and in my case it cannot be, as I am guilty. Therefore my only hope is for the manner of my execution to be down graded. I sit alone in my pod awaiting my holographic, digitally enhanced, representative to appear and inform me of the Committee’s decision concerning how my humble, confused life must end, for the best outcome to society of course.

I sit back against my beds head trying to come to terms with the fear that fills me to my core. A rumble sounds in the distance; I feel the vague echo of a vibration through my bed and up into my body, aggravating the sense of sickness that already resides within me. Even now I realise in the year 2360 that they cannot make a pod that is immune to sound or the general invasion from the world out there on the other side of the pod structure.

As my life stands I will be executed by droid, that’s robot to you and I, but to the Committee of Four, they describe my death as ‘by droid,’ an inhuman mechanical entity programmed very careful to be able to take a human life, unlike any other robotic entities in existence. The droid, or if I struggle, droids; will take me to a prescribed air-lock and place me inside and then slowly my life will be sucked away from me, out into the cold hard vacuum of space which exists outside of this, our cosy world.

Silence returns and my thoughts turn to the day I decided to challenge the moral uprightedness of the citizens of my world. I had no intent to challenge any, except of course myself, but that is the crime I have been found guilty of. Challenging morals in a way that is unacceptable to the Committee of Four which presides over and monitors us all, along with the church which reinforces the Committee through religion, all for the self evident benefit of the citizens of the pods.

I know that both the Committee and the press will be monitoring my thoughts in detail, and knowing such, I have decided to sit here in my pod and recite my version of the offence I have been convicted of, if only so that the populous at large might feel some small level of pity, and also to enlighten any that might be thinking of acting out similar fantasies for their own pleasure.

My decision to act in the way I chose now seems stupid! I know that now, to dare to expose human flesh can only lead to incarceration, what I did (Un-knowingly or without any intent to cause offence) is to dare to expose my sexuality in semi-public, which I now understand is a Capital Offence.

The laws of my home world are not clearly defined, the Committee of Four arbitrarily decide what does, or what does not constitute a crime, and they feel that my being naked and bound for personal sexual gratification is nothing short of heinous.

Yes, I said ‘naked and bound’ please do not be too shocked, I was only trying to enjoy in semi- public what I have been practicing in private for some time, and then only since my life partner decided to go off with another woman, leaving me unattended and lonely.

You will have read my name or heard it on the holo news, but to clear the record, I am Stacy 10-69-600, a solo (now) lunar pod occupant, sex, female, age, 32 Earth years. I wonder why we refer to time passed as being in Earth years. It was Earth the planet which led me to my fate, it was on Earth two years ago that I first encountered the practice of bondage, and from there self bondage, and so onwards to perverting my work robot into a dominant female robotrix and committing my offence! Yes it can be done if you are wondering.

I visited Earth for a three day respite trip to escape from the details of my formal separation and relocation to a single occupant pod. My soon to be ex would (as statute decrees) retain the joined level pod with his new companion. I lose out all the way, so Earth, it offers me a brief interlude and some freedom. The trip as you will expect passed smoothly and soon after leaving lunar 1, I arrived at dock three and am very quickly immersing myself in Earth life. Anyway to cut to the chase, I ended up meeting two women, in a library of all places, and one thing swiftly led to another and I soon found myself in the basement of a house!

They live in houses on Earth unlike our pods stacked up under a giant dome or under the lunar surface.

This house had a basement and in the basement they very sweetly introduced me to the pleasures of being bound and sexually abused. All in all it went well, and was excitingly different to the boring sex I have entertained back home. That was the start of my decline, I now had no source of sexual relief at home, boring or not.

I began to experiment despite the moral code, sex became almost an addiction for me, but equally, it swiftly became mundane. I needed to spice it up, perhaps take a risk, nothing too outrageous but a risk all the same If I was to enjoy the delights of orgasm fully.

You will need to understand that I am employed by I-core, in their research laboratory. I design and test bed new robotic ice core drilling equipment and as such I have access to a wide range of robotic components and the latest chassis.

One night I was sitting alone in the unit when I noticed a basic chassis, there was little to separate it from the hundreds I have seen before, but for some reason this one intrigued me. I activated it and check for memory imprint and there was nothing, so I had a blank page to work with. This chassis was a short compact model, almost a female model, one designed specifically (I knew) for entry and testing in confined spaces, i.e. a search model with full dexterity. The first thing I did was construct a face for the chassis, a female face, and from there I turned my attention to creating an operating system, one with a wide variety of sub functions and self reliance. Next I dressed the creature I was creating in female clothing, nothing fancy of course as on lunar 1 there is nothing fancy or overly sexual.

Liking the effect I then needed to secure the robot I had partially constructed, not in the physical sense but in the corporate property tracing sense. I deleted its file numbers marking the machine as faulty and destroyed; now I had my play mate and hopefully soon it would be playing me.

I named her Sam for no other reason than the name appealed to me, she didn’t look exactly right, I mean female, but she certainly looked tough and capable of dealing with me, if of course my programming was up to its normal level.

I stored Sam in a compact lock box to which only I had the combination, and set about considering exactly how I wanted Sam to abuse me. I began to write the code that would allow for my fantasy to become reality. For the next few weeks all I did with every second of my spare time was write code. Some of it terrified me as I wrote it, but my hormones and desires had taking control of my brain, and even the most scary or pain filled scenarios went into my programming, I intended to provide a wide and diverse range of imaginative code for Sam to be able to select from.

Four weeks later I was ready for programming Sam, it would take nearly five hours for the download to install, so picking a suitable time when we would not be disturbed would need careful consideration. Eventually a suitable opportunity arrived and I removed Sam from storage, and over an evening I finalised and instigated my preparations for Sam’s transfer and activation. It went perfectly and once done I returned my Sam to storage.

It was about that time that the Four degenerates were executed on the Committee for Moral Welfare, and Social Acceptances, instructions (for short to the populous, The Committee of Four).

That day, if you think back, was the first time that the public realised exactly how much control the Committee of Four has over our so called utopia.

Despite public opinion the executions (you will remember) went ahead. I believe that even then had one of the criminals not have committed the act of ‘Life Taking’, then the public might have reacted even more forcefully or at least effectively, but solid cohesion of desire was lacking. There were lots of discussions being held in private apparently, and some arrests occurred, but I never heard what happened to those monitored culprits.

Time passed and life calmed down somewhat, Sam waited for me in her storage container, and my desires became extreme as I waited for a time that I could engage with Sam.

My time arrived, two whole months later, a long two months I can assure you! I was instructed to ‘contain test’ a series of developments, or rather to watch over the computers whilst they did the actual work.

Perfect I remember thinking, absolutely perfect, the department to myself, no disturbances, the doors locked, peace, silence and time, everything I have been looking for to introduce myself fully to Sam.

As a last opportunity prior to engaging Sam, I set up a remote net sender which I linked to Sam’s cerebrum cortex and processor, with download set to unrestricted. What I hoped for was that Sam would become a more information rounded creation, and thus develop a limited personality of sorts. She certainly did just that.

--------------------

Kneeling naked on the floor, my arms secured behind my back, a thick gag strapped tight into my mouth, with a chain linking its strap to my bound arms, so any movement pulled my gag tighter. My legs were free but not for long I figured as I looked up at Sam. She is standing upright, back straight, with a faint trace of a smile (possibly evil) on her face and holding a vibrator in her hands. I was soon to find out the reason for the faint smile, with one effortless movement Sam reached down grasping my ear and pulling me to my feet, she turned, walking me to a desk and inducing me to bend at my hips across it.

“Stay still slut I have something you will enjoy”.

I stayed still, despite my excitement raging through my sex! If somehow I could take a peak between my tightly clamped shut thighs, I am certain I would see a river of juicy female lubricant flooding out between my swollen sex lips.

Sam stood behind me her hand forcing between my clamped thighs, twisting from the vertical to the horizontal. I felt my feet slide on the floor, only a couple of inches, but totally out of my control. Sam pinched my inner thigh indicating that I should part my legs further. I hesitated slightly, that was enough for Sam, her palm slapped harshly against my up thrust bottom. That single slap rammed my mound into the table edge, I for the first time realised exactly how strong my robotrix was.

Sam I am sure had applied exactly the right amount of pressure to ensure my instant capitulation, but not enough to do me any serious harm. It worked; I capitulated, my legs part revealing my sex fully for the first time to Sam. I can’t explain why but I feel humiliation at so easily being manipulated, coupled with an overwhelming lust, and topped by a deep feeling of satisfaction at my Sam’s action and control over me.

The vibrator teased gently at my lubed lips, twisting it in her hand, rotating and sliding it up and down, tracing it along the demarcation of my sexes entrance. She circled the tip, occasionally brushing against my swollen clit, sending delightful waves of expectation deep into me.

Then it entered, no longer gentle and tormenting, no, Sam rammed the tip deep inside of me, I felt the entry and then my insides felt thrust and torn apart, the size of it crashing deep into me nearly made me come right then. Never before have I felt so penetrated and so (I don’t know the right words) but controlled and helpless seem in the ball park. In then out, then in again, Sam took over my sex and controlled my pleasure, in a way which clearly showed that she understood the principals of sexual arousal. Without warning my legs were pulled together clamping the evil monster deep inside of me. I groaned loudly but my obvious desire was completely ignored.

“Stay exactly as you are my pretty slut!”

I did as I was told, remaining motionless, but desperate to grind my sex against the table edge, eagerly wanting to squeeze my fingers between my thighs, to grasp and jerk against my invader, but my bottom is still very sore and I have received only a single slap! What would a spanking for disobedience be like, whatever it would be like I didn’t right then want to find out, so I stay exactly as my Sam has instructed me to.

Sam returns with wide self bonding straps with which she circles my ankles, then my thighs and finally my upper body, immobilising me in a way I could never have imagined. My excitement blooms as each strap tightens and seals. The vibrator held firmly between my thighs pulses gently, continually tormenting my awareness as my sex demands relief, it failed to materialise.

“Time my little horny slut for you to find out what life is like for me!”

She picked me up as easily as I could a small child and carted me across the room, passing around the computer suite and over to the far side of the room. Her box waits, door swung open as though eager to encase her once more, but Sam has another idea. It is not her that will become encased it is me. She pushes me into the cramped box; I hadn’t realised how little room there is inside. Then with a gentle pat on my head she closes the door. I clearly heard the distinctive grating as the seal bond locks engage.

I nearly panic, in fact, if the truth is being told, then I am lying, I did panic. Not as you might think because of the all encompassing dark, not even because of the cramped bound position, or my lust, but because I know that these cases are air tight! The question’s which drove me to my panic led and desperate struggling are, did Sam know. Was I going to die before my self built dominatrix released me?

I could see a vision of myself being pulled from within, silent, still, chalk white and dead, but still restrained. Everyone would get to hear of the girl who liked to bind herself and got it wrong, fatally wrong.

That was the moment that I felt the first caress of a gentle breeze, fresh air circulates within my confining box, thank god I think in relief: She did know.

Time passed, to me it seemed like hours, in reality, I was later informed that less than fifteen minutes had elapsed before security invaded the silence of my lab, (they only took that long because of the need to locate someone with access codes) once inside they came directly to the packaging box in which I was soundly secured.

Neither I, nor Sam, or anyone else I believe that worked in the labs realised that we were spied upon by security. My privacy was instantly removed as they key coded the binding box and opened it, revealing me in all my fetishistic glory.

I was arrested, charged, found guilty and sentenced, of Sam there was no word said. I did at that time, and I still can only believe that my darling Sam is now nothing more than scrap, having been disposed of as corrupted, by me. Just the thought of them having destroyed my darling Sam brings me to tears even now, some months after my discovery.

As I started my tale of woe so it shall end, for I am still sitting awaiting the outcome of my desperate plea for leniency of some a kind. If I am able I will broadcast the final decision and the outcome in one last story, watch and listen out for it less you miss it. Though I am sure my death will be broadcast for all to see, as some sort of warped warning of how deviation from the dictated norm will not be tolerated by the all powerful Committee of Four.

Authors note.

Life and its expectations do not always follow a clear road. The future for this deviant is not necessarily the future that some will expect. She might even survive; her tale will conclude soon, I am sure…

04.03.10

story continues in

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