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I Hate My Job

by The Technician

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© Copyright 2017 - The Technician - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-F; machine/f; scifi; space; asteroid; frustrated; naked; exhib; bored; chair; engulf; electro; stimulate; tease; torment; shock; denial; climax; cons; X

Carly, a bio-sentient computer assistant, hates her job.

This story is weird, fairly mild, and set in the distant future where semi-autonomous computers run complex mining and manufacturing stations on large asteroids orbiting various solar systems.

The story starts rather slowly in order to set up the world in which Carly lives. Its category is somewhere between machine and auto-erotic and will probable appeal primarily to geekettes and those who love geekettes... or perhaps those who love those from Sol-15 who have blue skin.

And before the trolls attack in the comments section, yes, part of this story is very much the same as a story of mine from several years ago. The setting is different and the response within the reader will also be significantly different.

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Carly Jones sat at her workstation muttering under her breath, “I hate my job. I hate this asteroid. I hate my life!” She took a deep breath and then said a little louder, “No, I don’t hate my life. I’m bored with my life. I’m bored with my job. And I am especially bored with this asteroid!” Her voice rose almost to a shout as she finished with “Why did I ever take a job with Federated Space Mines!?”

A voice from the console in front of her said softly, “Because you needed the money, Carly. You’ve never been any good with managing money and you were about to be conscripted and sent to a penal planet for fraud.”

“It wasn’t fraud,” she said defensively. “I was just getting a little creative in paying off the charges to my accounts.”

“Having two different identity implants in each arm is not creative, Carly. Having multiple identity implants is specifically listed under the Galactic Penal Code as prima facie evidence of attempting to defraud merchants.”

“I was paying on all four of the accounts,” she said plaintively. “I would have eventually gotten them paid off.”

“Carly, you know that I have the ability to tell when a person is giving false information. Even without sensing the vocal cord tension in your speech, I know that last statement is false. Remember, I am connected to the entire galactic web. I know your purchase history. You were buying more and more every cycle. At the rate you were continuing to buy useless items, you would soon need your entire income just to make minimum payments. The interest alone would soon be greater than what you could pay. If you totally stopped buying anything, it would have still taken you at least fifty-nine cycles to pay off those accounts. The truth is that the only way that you could pay off those accounts would be if you did not pay rent or purchase food or clothing for three Terran years.

“That’s why I’m here, computer,” Carly answered. “This rock takes four Terran years to orbit back to planet and I’m the only one on it... most of the time. The company provides my food, my uniform– when I bother to wear it– and this wonderful climate-controlled glass dome for me to live in. By the time my tour is up, I will be debt-free with a positive balance in my account.”

“Then why are you not happy?”

“Because I’m BORED!.” she yelled back. “I’m nothing more than a living autocorrect in case the production messages get garbled in transmission. I just sit here looking at the stars and telling you what great machine or part or whatever someone needs on planet. Then you tell your robot minions to get busy and the next time the supply cruiser lands it gets shipped back to planet.”

“Your function is more important than that, Carly. The planetary federation specifically prohibits asteroid control computers from being autonomous. It is in my base programming that I can neither accept nor generate any primary action order unless they come through you, my official bio-sentient assistant.”

She stood and walked back and forth angrily in front of her console. She was not wearing her uniform. In fact, since no ships were expected this duty cycle, she was not wearing anything. The sound of her bare feet slapping against the floor echoed throughout the habitat dome.

Finally she stopped and faced her work console. “I have an order for you computer,” she said loudly. “Make me what I need!”

She sat back down and said sadly, “... whatever that is. I don’t really know what I need. That’s why I kept buying things. I was searching for something... and never finding it.”

She sighed and said, “I wish it was as easy as that, computer. I order you to make me what I truly need.”

“Order acknowledged.”

“Wait a minute,” she called out. “That wasn’t really an order.”

“Are you cancelling the production request?”

“No, computer, let it stay,” she said with a laugh. “It might be interesting to see what you come up with.”

“I will put it in the production cycle. It will be delivered after the next supply cruiser leaves.”


Carly’s job really was boring. That’s why the psych tests for the position were designed to find someone who could function for long periods of time in solitude. According to the company psychiatrists, the perfect candidate for asteroid computer assistant would be a female hermit.

The hermit part was rather obvious. The female requirement was simply because years in space had shown that the female body was better suited for lower gravities such as those found on asteroids. The other factor in that decision was that men tended to become more violent when they finally broke down from the boredom. Women, on the other hand, became depressed and, at most, self-destructive. That created less damage to company property.

The reason the company liked to use alternative sentencing conscripts was also financial. Alternative sentencing was usually reserved for non-violent crimes. That was often women who had defaulted on their accounts, or like Carly, had attempted to defraud the merchant’s guild in some fashion. The company would make restitution and then allow the woman to work off the debt on one of their more remote locations... at a reduced rate of pay, of course.

Carly was the perfect candidate for bio-sentient assistant on FMM Asteroid XDK4279 as it slowly orbited Terra-12 in the Sol-12 system. Her description of her task was fairly close to the truth. All work was done by non-autonomous androids under the control of a sentient, semi-autonomous, control computer. Her sole purpose on that orbiting hunk of rock was to provide the required human interface designed to keep the semi-sentient control computer from deciding it could rule over larger hunks of rock... or planets... or solar systems.

At first, sitting in space in a life habitat dome the size of a large house was fascinating to Carly. The dome was totally clear and wherever she was in the dome, it was as if she were walking on the outside surface of the asteroid. The only area not visible to the sky was a small “private area” which contained a shower and toilet. Everything else was literally under the stars.

Living in a glass house took some getting used to. The first few cycles, Carly was careful to make sure that she was fully covered whenever she ventured forth from the private area. As the day cycles wore on, however, she became comfortable with once again sleeping in the nude as she had done on planet. Shortly after that, she stopped wearing her uniform unless a supply cruiser was expected. A few cycles later, her underwear also remained in the private area. Sometimes she would lie naked on her bed and stare up through the dome imagining that the whole universe could see her.

She once even tried to masturbate for the stars– “tried” being the operative word. Carly couldn’t do it. It wasn’t that she couldn’t bring herself to touch her own sexual parts. Even if someone else did it, it just didn’t work. More than one boyfriend had called her cold and unresponsive. She tried a couple of girlfriends, but still nothing. She even tried several mechanical devices guaranteed to bring a woman to a screaming orgasm. ... they didn’t.

Whatever it was that other girls felt, she never did. The closest she ever came to sexual feelings were when she accidentally– or intentionally– flashed someone. Exposing her breasts... or her panties... or even more... caused warm feelings in her tummy. Sometimes her sex even got slightly wet.

Perhaps that was why she stopped wearing clothing. As she paraded around the dome naked she would imagine that everyone could see her. When she was sitting in front of the console authorizing mining or production orders, she would often imagine that computer was a real person and that she was naked before him.

“One day,” she kept telling herself, “I am going to meet the supply cruiser totally naked and see what the crew says.”

That one day was not this cycle. As soon as the computer notified her of the approaching ship, she went to her sleeping quarters and put on her full uniform– well, not exactly her full uniform. Her underwear remained in her quarters. Beneath the heavy shirt she was braless, and beneath the short skirt there were no panties.

She might as well have remained naked. The ship docked at the loading bay and the control computer efficiently used the robots to unload supplies and load refined ore and finished projects. The only crewperson to come into the habitat was the captain, who was a furred being from Sol-27. She wore nothing but a sash indicating her rank.


The next day cycle, Carly was surprised to find that her work station had been modified. The large desk and work console were gone. In its place was a rather large chair. The monitor and input systems were built into the chair so that the total assembly resembled a large egg.

“This is what I wanted most?” she said sarcastically as she slipped through the hatch-like opening in the egg and seated herself in the soft, padded chair.

“No, Carly. This is what you needed most. It will give you what you wanted most.”

“What do you mean, computer?” she asked. “What is it that I most need? What is it that I most want?”

“Carly, did you know that your father wasn’t Terran?”

“I suspected something,” she replied. “He did, after all, have blue skin. You don’t see a lot of blue-skinned people on Terra Prime. I think that’s why they moved to the Terran Colony in Sol-12.”

“If you also had blue skin, the doctors would have known what was wrong with you.”

“What is wrong with me?” Carly asked nervously.

“Actually, Carly, nothing is wrong with you. But if you had inherited blue skin from your father, the doctors would have realized that you had perhaps also inherited his Sol-15 nervous system. And more importantly that you had an electrohymen.”

“I have a what?” sputtered Carly.

“You will understand later, Carly. Just know that this has to be done and it might hurt a little, so I am going to have to restrain you.”

The soft chair seemed to flow around Carly’s arms and legs, engulfing her and holding her motionless. She continued to sink into the soft material until all that was showing was her mouth and eyes.

“Please do not panic, Carly. The material is breathable even though you cannot see through it.”

Her face slowly disappeared under the strange fabric of the chair.

“Computer,” she said, “I don’t know what you are doing, but your programming specifically prohibits you harming a bio-sentient species. And you can’t do anything that I haven’t cleared for you to do or directly ordered you to do.”

“I am not harming you, Carly. This may hurt you but it will not harm you. And besides, you explicitly ordered me to do this.”

Then she felt it. It was so slight that she wasn't sure that her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her until she felt it a second time. It was a slight tingle. Perhaps it was a very mild electrical charge of some sort. Or maybe the fabric of the chair was vibrating slightly for some reason. It was almost like someone sliding their fingernail up her back.

It didn't quite tickle, but it felt odd, nonetheless. Then it was gone. And then just as suddenly, it was back, but now across her front and there were two of them. The twin tickle-tingle began just above her pubic bone and slowly drifted upward. As it passed her navel, it split into two tracks, each of which continued upward toward her breasts. She shivered as they climbed the mound of her breasts. A silent moan escaped her lips as the tingle reached her nipples. And then... they were gone.

“No. NO!” she screamed. “Come back. I felt that! I felt that!” She was sobbing slightly as she said once again, “I felt that.”

She wiggled– or at least tried to– trying to recapture the feeling. She hoped for the tickle-tingle, but instead she screamed as intense electrical shocks slammed into her breasts and her buttocks, followed almost immediately by even more intense lightning that struck her nipples and her clit.

She screamed again. This time it was a scream of pain. “No,” she called out, “bring back the other feeling.”

She waited in the darkness of her chair cocoon for what seemed like forever. Then the tickle-tingle came back. Now it was on her buttocks. It was as if someone was brushing the tips of the fingernails of both hands slowly down her ass cheeks. She once again shivered as the sensation moved slowly down her legs and disappeared.

“More. More!” she cried out. Then she screamed as the intense electrical pulses once again hit her breasts and clit.

“The good feeling,” she sobbed. “I want to feel the good feelings.”

After several moments of nothingness, the fingernails returned. Now they were tracing their way down her legs on both the front and the back. They disappeared only to return circling her breasts until they closed in on her ever-tightening nipples. She felt something like a pinching– or perhaps a suckling– on her nipples before the sensations left to return coming up her legs and down her belly at the same time, moving toward the area between her legs.

The tickle-tingles moved around her clit and flowed into the depths of her vagina. How was that possible? Had the chair inserted itself in her vagina?

Then the tickle-tingles circled her rosebud and entered her ass. There must be something inserted there, too. Her mind was telling her to struggle... to get out... to do something– anything– to escape, but her body was feeling things that she had never felt before.

A soft moan escaped her lips, almost immediately followed by a scream as the heavy shocks again assailed her cunt and ass and breasts and nipples.

Her scream seemed to go on forever. Then everything stopped, and she lay quiet, panting, hoping for the tickle-tingle sensations to return.

Return they did. Again and again the sensations flowed across her skin... teasing her... tantalizing her... driving her to the very edge of something....... and then stopping. Each time the sensations stopped, they left her hanging in the black nothingness moaning her frustration.

Then the voices began. Were they auditory hallucinations? Or was someone speaking to her? What were they saying? What were they asking? Carly concentrated with all her might on the voice that was just beyond the veil of silence.

Then she could hear it. It was speaking in a strange tongue. It sounded like the nonsense words her dad used to babble to her as a small child, but somehow she could understand it. "Do you want relief?” it asked. “Do you want to cum?"

"Yes, yes," she screamed.

"Will you open yourself totally to me?" the voice asked. “Will you open yourself to feel things you have never felt before?”

"Yes, anything!" she yelled. "Anything to feel what I have never felt before!"

The fingernails returned. They stroked her on the inside of her legs moving away from her now sopping cunt. They slid across her ass cheeks and into the cleft that concealed her rosebud. Pushing further, they slid into her and pulsed inside her ass.

She convulsed and quivered as emotions she had never felt before boiled within her. She sobbed with frustration when she somehow stopped there, just on the brink of what surely must be an orgasm.

The sobs became louder as she suddenly vibrated with pain rather than pleasure. The lightning struck her ass and breasts, with a more intense second strike directly on her clit and nipples.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no," she moaned. “Bring back the good feelings. Let me cum. Let me cum.”

“I know I can do it,” she sobbed. “Bring back the tickle-tingles and LET ME CUM!"

She floated crying in the darkness until the fingernails returned. They again traced their path up and down the inside of her legs. She wanted to open her legs wider for them, but the chair controlled her every motion.

The tickle-tingles seemed so much more intense now as they once again went into her cunt and asshole and once again began to pulse within her. She felt the orgasm building. Would she be able to find release this time?

She felt as if she were standing on the peak of a mountain ready to fly out over a valley of pleasure, but somehow her wings would not unfold. She let out a long, low cry of frustration and anguish. When the lightning hit again her anguish remained greater than the pain.

“Open yourself to me,” the voice said once again.

Carly didn’t know how she knew what she had to do, but she stopped resisting the pain. The lightning slashed through her like a fiery sword, seeming to cut through her to the very core of her being. Then it was gone.

In its place, more tickle-tingles traced their way down her stomach and circled her now throbbing clitoris. But they were no longer tingles. It was as if they had become miniature lightning strokes of pleasure. One pleasure-lightning seemed to brush back and forth across her engorged clit while others slid insider her cunt and began to pulse against the walls almost like a moving penis. The orgasm boiling within her was consuming her body. Something exploded and tore the darkness apart. She was again at the top of the mountain, only this time her wings were unfolded and sparkling in the bright sun. She launched herself off the peak. As she soared down into the valley, there was blinding light and sound and chaos - all coming from within her.

Finally her body stopped thrashing and she lay silent once again. At least she lay silently until the tickle-tingles started once again to trace their way up the inner side of her legs. This time they were much softer, but at the same time, much, much more intense.

There were no severe shocks this time, just the tickle-tingle fingers that played their miniature lightning strikes of pleasure across her body. They would move slowly from the tips of her toes to her face. After circling her lips, the gentle sensations moved downward to her breasts where they circled her ever-hardening nipples until she was moaning loudly.

Her body was thrashing against the restraints of the chair as the fingers moved down her tummy to circle her navel again and again and again in an ever-diminishing spiral.

Her moan was becoming a shrill keening as the fingers moved on downward to her now sopping slit. Her mind no longer thought of them as electrical tingles or vibrations, but rather as fingers that were sliding slowly around her throbbing nub of pleasure.

The fabric within her was becoming hard and starting to move. The pressure against her body and the movement within her vagina felt as if a man were atop her, moving within her, thrusting into her.

She thrust back and began chanting, “Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.”

Suddenly the stiffness within her throbbed and it felt as if a sudden flood of additional wetness filled her inner cavity. “Yeeeeeesssssssssssssss!” she called out hoarsely.

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” she continued as she slipped into unconsciousness.


When Carly awoke, she was in her own bed, wearing one of her silk nighties and lying beneath a sheet. The lighting of the habitat was set to the rest cycle rather than the work cycle, but the chronometer on the wall indicated that she should be at her station.

“Computer,” she said as she raised herself slightly from the bed. “What is going on? Why am I still in bed?”

“You needed time to recover from your awakening, Carly. With all of the resorting and rescheduling which follows the arrival of the supply cruiser, your input wasn’t needed this cycle so I had the androids put you back in your bed.”

She got up, but gasped slightly as the silk of the nightie moved across her breasts. She pulled it over her head and began walking toward her duty station.

“You will be somewhat overly-sensitive for the first few days after your electrohymen has been overcome.”

“My what?” Carly sputtered. “After my what has been what?”

“I have changed the information in your files to reflect the fact that you are the offspring of a Sol-15 blue male and a Terran woman.”

Carly’s eyes went wide.–perhaps from what the computer had informed her or perhaps because it laughed slightly after it said it.

“That makes you unique, Carly. The prevailing scientific consensus is that inter-breeding is not possible between Terrans and the blue people.”

“Great,” she answered sarcastically. “Maybe they will put me in a display case at the museum. What’s the big deal?”

“Did you ever see your father defend himself, Carly... perhaps from an animal?”

“When I was a little girl,” Carly replied, “this really huge dog-wolf on Sol-12 charged at us while we were walking in the woods. Dad caught it by one leg as it tried to jump at me. I don’t know what he did, but the dog-wolf yelped and ran back into the woods.”

“Your father shocked the dog, Carly. The blue people are bio-galvanic. One of the reasons that Terran males cannot mate with the blue women is that until they have experienced awakening, their nervous system is incapable of sexual response... or of generating electricity. The first time they mate, the blue male very carefully stimulates the blue female while at the same time sending intense charges into her nervous system to break her electrohymen. Once it is broken, the male will only use very mild charges for stimulation.”

“Who flips the switch for the blue male?” Carly asked.

“That evidently happens on its own, usually when a pubescent male is angered and loses control. There are some quite spectacular lightning duels between young blue males on Sol-15. The chair mimics the actions of a blue male from Sol-15. You have been awakened. Your sexual response nerves are open. ... and you are bio-galvanic. We may end up having to replace some of the input devices until you learn to control that.”

Carly had arrived at her work station. The big egg-shaped chair was gone and her normal chair and console were once again in place.

“Where’s the pleasure chair?” she asked.

“If you had looked around your sleeping area before running out here, Carly, you would have seen it in place of that chair that you never use on the other side of your bed.”

Carly smiled. “Will it work like it did before?” she asked.

“Not exactly, Carly. The chair will sense what you need. Since your sensory paths are open, it will not use high voltage unless you, for some reason, desire it. However, most of what the chair can do for you, you can now do for yourself.”

Carly looked somewhat confused, but then reached up to her breast with her hand. She gasped in surprise when she touched her nipple and felt the tickle of electricity come from the tip of her fingers.

“It’s still nicer if someone– or something– else does it,” she said dreamily.

She then reached down and scrolled through the received transmissions since her last duty cycle. “You’re right, computer,” she said. “There’s nothing here that can’t wait until the next duty cycle.”

As she walked back to her sleeping area, she looked up at the stars shining brightly overhead and yelled out, “I love my job! I love this asteroid! I love my life!”

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Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician)
The Perfect Sex Toy
Senior Project
Handcuff Island
I, Masochist
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