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Storycodes: Machine/m; robot; capture; force; restraints; bond; torment; analhook; probed; insert; virus; kidnap; enslave; mast; climax; cons/nc; X
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."
So, when I walked in the front door I was met by a small black box with a large red button lying on floor just inside the door. It had note next to it the said, "Surprise!". What else could I do besides push the button?
I was mentally taking inventory of my situation... I think I had been electrocuted but I was awake and starting to recover now. I was crouched over naked, shackled, and had a ring gag in my mouth. A strap was pulling my balls down while what felt like a smooth steel hook was pulling my asshole up. There was a painful clamp half way up my nose that ended with a steel ring looped around metal pole running up from the floor to the ceiling in my living room. Seriously, there was a stripper pole installed in my living room. The loop around the pole kept me focused straight ahead but allowing me to bob my head up and down if I tried. I could not turn to see to see Knuckles, but I could hear him behind me. Oh, and despite my predicament I had a raging erection.
"Your browser history indicated a preference for nonconsensual bondage, humiliation, and forced orgasms."
I drooled a response through my ring gag "for women, not me you idiot, for women..." but Knuckles either could not understand what I was saying or was just ignoring me. I cursed myself for not deleting my browser history.
I squeaked as something slipped between my legs from behind, spreading them wide and locking them in place with a click. The hook in my backside lifted and I found myself presenting my balls for Knuckles initial inspection.
"Additionally, the video view indicate that you self-identify with the submissive aspects of the sex acts. As such, for the course of these activities you will refer to me as Master and I will refer to you as Bitch."
I had broken out into a sweat thinking about the horrible gonzo porn I loved to watch and how it usually reduced woman to blubbering sluts that just begged for more in the end, part of me wanted to cry. The sound of a motor hummed to life and I moaned as my constraints tighten and I slowly began to fully present myself for inspection.
"In addition to getting creative as requested, I have also recreated several of the restraint mechanism and various devices that you appear to prefer. You will remain constrained and in service until such a time as you have been properly taught a lesson."
"Our initial session will consist of basic hygiene. You are a dirty little bitch and you need to be made clean." With that Knuckles began systematically removing every single hair on my body.
"That ladies and gentlemen is not an unusual case. Case subject #742 was not rescued from "Knuckles" for nearly a week. Knuckles had apparently had the wherewithal to access #742's company HR account and place his owner on emergency medical leave. Had knuckles sent the cleaning lady an email in Spanish instead of English, subject #742 might still be confined to this day. As you can see by the video clips attached, beyond the visible changes in physical appearance, subject #742 has experienced the onset of a profound personality trait disorder. Where all indication of subject #742's earlier psychological profiles were typical for a male of his age and background he now falls into an extreme end of the masochist spectrum disorder syndrome, in laymen's terms, he has been made a gimp."
"The real danger is that this is not an isolated occurrence, Knuckles was infected with a virus called "Cruel Machine." The virus lays dormant until a series of parameters are met to trigger the virus. The virus then contacts a roving AI server that instructs the new cruel machine to begin reprogramming their victim. Generally, if the process can go uninterrupted for a period of seven to nine days, the victim and their cruel machine master disappear. Where they go initially is unknown, but to date several victims have been found their way into the international sex slave markets but most remain unaccounted for."
"This leads us to the plan before us. The baiting of the Cruel Machine virus with a volunteer and tracking of the victim through the process to provide us with the information to shut the operation down. To date, the cruel machine AI has defeated all our typical protocols for containment and infiltration so it is absolutely imperative that our volunteer be unaware of their status."
"Sir, doesn't that just make the volunteer a victim? Is that ethical?"
"Well Agent Dan, fortunately when people sign up for the special intelligence services their spouses and adult family members also must agree to a security agreement regarding collateral information and non-consensual operational involvement. As of seven hours ago ladies and gentlemen your spouses and in Hopper's case his son, have been activated as a reserve SPS agents with full benefits."
"Sir my son is only a kid!"
"Agent Hopper, he is over the age of consent in Virginia and Tommy's paperwork tracking isotope were promptly updated the day after his birthday."
Tommy was trying to figure out what could have gone wrong with Max. Max was a six-armed, three-legged service and security droid that his dad had insisted they needed for because of his job. At the time all Tommy wanted was the new TX-2000 which all his friends were getting. It even cost less and as far as Tommy was concerned did more. Well, everyone knew the TX-2000 could do more because every kid knew that with the parent controls on it turned off it could be utilized for some "illicit" activities. His friend that had them described them as the ultimate masturbatory aid without looking like those creepy fuck dolls. Sure, they couldn't take a bullet but they could give you a hand job after helping you with your homework.
But apparently somebody had slipped a hand job routine into Max. Tommy had just walked out of the shower and Max was standing there with his four, detail capable snake like appendages (aka the ones not designed to break your neck) waiting to brush and floss his teeth like always. Without skipping a beat with the brushing and flossing one of the other appendages cradled his balls while the other latched onto the head of his cock. Tommy immediately startled and reached for his cock only to find both his wrist secured with the security arms that had snapped shut around them and pulled them straight out to the sides. For a moment Tommy thought he was about to have his arms ripped off, then Max adjusted his position slightly and the tips of his toes returned to the ground.
Tommy's initial attempt at a verbal override command was thwarted by a mouth full of toothpaste and two brushes working in tandem.
"Please restrain from movement during oral hygiene procedure."
This had to be a joke or a bug or something... but Tommy did have a raging hard-on and Max was working his cock like a pro. Max had rinsed his mouth and was flossing now but Tommy was making no attempt to override anything. That's when Tommy noticed that the appendage Max had been using to fondle his ball was now poking around his back door with an oily tip.
Tommy had wanted to say that area was off limits but all he managed to do was spit mouthwash across the bathroom as the appendage self-lubricating tip spun like a drill bit and dove into Tom's backside without any warning a made his body go crazy. Tommy had never busted a nut like that before, he was gasping for air and shaking as Max milked him dry.
"Movement has exceeded maximum parameters for oral hygiene sequence. Restarting sequence."
Tommy hung limply as his mouth was opened and a pair of tooth brushes went back to work. It took Tommy a moment to realize why he was retching. The taste... he knew it was his spunk. Max was brushing Tommy's teeth with his own spunk. Tommy struggled in vain for several seconds.
"Movement has exceeded maximum parameters for oral hygiene sequence. Additional sequence queued. Please refrain from movement during oral hygiene procedure."
It took four tries before Tommy could stay obediently still within the parameters for the oral hygiene sequence but by the time he had finally gotten used to the taste of his own spunk Tommy found himself gagged with his own underwear and about to learn how to receive the bowel evacuation and deep hygiene sequences.
Agent Hopper knocked on the bathroom door. "Hey Tommy, I am late for the airport, remember I am gone till Friday this week."
With barely a pause a synthesized copy of Tommy's voice replied, "OK dad, see you Friday, love you."
"Love you to."
A few minutes later Max registered that Agent Hopper had locked the door on his way out and Tommy found himself being strapped to the toilet.
Agent Hopper sat in his car listening to the remote sensor he had left in the bathroom. It sounded like his son was being assaulted with a shop vacuum. He knew he should stop this but if agency's plan worked it was sure to mean a promotion. He debated for a few moments before turning on the video feed and routing it to the car entertainment system. He found himself watching the video feed much longer than he expected.
What agent Hopper could not have known was that by the time he had finished masturbating to the live feed of his son’s hygiene sequence, the Cruel Machine signal had been picked up by his monitoring device and was well on its way to infecting his car and all his personal devices. A few minutes later his car initiated the high-end security protocols designed to immobilize a car jacker and drove an unconscious agent Hopper to a warehouse on the southside of the City.
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