Gromet's PlazaMachine Stories

Mechanical Master

by Rubberchic

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© Copyright 2008 - Rubberchic - Used by permission

Storycodes: Robot/f; D/s; scifi; collar; slave; leather catsuit; oral; sex; climax; cons; X

Latex toy part 1.

The robot malevolently bent over and whispered in her ear.

"You see that girl, the off-worlder the one walking in the crowd like a pebble in the ebb of tide?" the machine asked. It stood over her like a mountain behind a willow tree. Given the style and erect confidence of the well dressed woman in front a casual observer might suspect they were a young rock star with hulking mechanical body guard. Six camera eyes set in a steel head tracked both her response while other eyes watched the trickle of the off-worlder steps.

"Yes Master" she said with all the serenity at her disposal. Master could tell if she was lying to him, he had specifically had trained her to be sick if she tried. The robot bent over and whispered to her ear. The touch of his steel skin on her neck and the flow of air on her neck as he spoke conjured the image that he might run his thin serpentine tongue over her ear. Her platinum and matte black rubber earring quivered at the attention.

"Regard her carefully, I want you to look at her like a lover might, I want you to covert her, I want you to have hushed silent joy in the little things she does, things that a more casual acquaintance might never perceive. The flick of the wrist, the way she turns her head, her naked neck in evening sun light."

"Master knows I am his. This flesh toy cannot be anything but his." She said trying to resist the inevitable.

The machine tutted, she could feel his mass shift slightly, a flow of metal and oil. "Remember you are my creature," the machine hissed, "I found you, I dressed you, I trained you, you are mine, every cell, every atom, every judgement is one I have gifted to you. Your sexuality is what ever I consider it agreeable to me to give you". The machine took his large arm opened his six mechanical fingers and grabbed her face and pointed it like a camera at the off-world girl.

She did not resist, his fore arms were powerful enough to crush her head like a melon in a steel press and she knew it. He had instructed that she always be heavily made up, a white china doll of foundation, steady gradient of gray then black eye shadow orbiting her International Klein blue eyes (they had been slate blue when they had met), but most noticeably of all the deep glossy red of her mouth, her perfect vermilion lips looked to be the only color on her face. Perhaps her visage was directed so he could slap her with impunity and still have no casual change to her visible beauty. The make up made her appealing face arresting, a image of perfection, woman made in a machines image.

"See how she stares at the signs. Don't you want to possess that pulchritude for your self. Don't you want to feel her sweat upon your back, her hair on your skin, see her smile in the morning, knowing that she is yours?"

She pause "If it would please you my lord"

"It would, it would," the machine promised, "catch my voice, for what I say should be fixed in your deepest desire. That girl should be to you as an oblivion is to a junkie, that next fix, the next fix that will mend everything. So release your libidinousness pour it on her flesh as an offering to your blood god".

"Lord blood god," she said looking at the off-worlder. She knew resistance was barren with him, he may have the body of a half ton guerilla but his mind had been built to the highest specifications. She had been top of her class but his intellect dwarfed hers, and that was without his instant access to the information networks around him. Simple robots where ubiquitous but his kind of advanced digital intelligence was banned on several planets and countless colonies throughout space. After the Wailing War such advanced intelligences had won the right to be free on this world, so they festered here like worms on a corpse. His ghost, his machine soul, that element before reason that reason cannot resist was the work of a back shop hacker named Hyperion. The combination was a chilling mechanical psychopath, the agreeable intellectual with a dark and malevolent heart and that had caught her. He knew her too well, he could persuade her that the sea was dry and the sun did not shine if wanted to, he had the locutious power they both knew it.

"Why the long face, you have undertaken quests to form links with your rather pathetic kind at my bequest. Remember that sculptor in First Foot Print city?'

The machine had taken her like a trophy wife to a number of openings and receptions, he had on occasion forced her to seduce the man of his choice. There had been this sculptor in First Foot Print he had made her go to, he was nice but had bad teeth, they had ritually dated under the machine's gaze but she could not bring herself to love him as ordered. Suddenly the machine had announced he had business in another city and told her to dump him which she had rather gratefully done.

One of her girl friends had asked why she stayed with the machine if he treated her so badly. 'When you have travelled by speed boat then going back to a tugboat always feels sluggish' was her guiltily answer.

"Perhaps it is time for you to prove fidelity to me, loyalty can be like a rock but the strongest rock can be worn smooth by a strong river."

"Please Master I beg of you. Not her, I don't have feelings for women, Master knows this, I would give my self away."

"Your flesh mind is so simple, so to hold that I give you simple rules, your feelings are as this mouth dictates, this is the only echo in the years we have." the machine bent down to almost whisper this in her ear.

"Please Master I will do anything for you."

"Anything? This is the kernel of…"

She suddenly started kissing his stainless steel chest. The machine wore a simple silk shirt over his mass, he did not need to for his own benefit, but it was a sign of his freedom and so above human intelligence. She undid the single button and started to expand out the target for her affection. Slowly she started to work her way around his body. Like a necromancer the robot waved its hand and the fire doors to the platform shut quietly, keeping strangers from the viewing platform.

"On your knees," the machine said greedily.

"But Master what if someone looks up?" she protested.

"Then they will be shocked, so be quick," the machine promised, the fear of exposure acted like poring gasoline on her inner flames.

She worked her way diligently down his chest, Sir had no true skin, he was a metal framework with his inner mechanical parts exposed, in some positions you could see holes straight through him. As she worked her way down passed his narrow waist ring, then two wings of his crouch open like the shell of a beetle to reveal his mechanical piece. She began to kiss that while it lowered its self down to the horizontal. Like an angels most robots would have just a smooth area between the legs. Hyperion had provided this upgrade to the machine as well.

Her eyes where closed but she knew this dildo well, it was surgical steel, its girth was small enough to lodge in her mouth, the head was large. The surface of the head and member covered in tiny heads that could be rotated and vibrate to his command. Since his sinister upgrade Sir had become quite a collector of these parts, having them in a large walk in closet like a vain woman might have collection of shoes. She knew each one, one of her tasks was to clean and sterilize each one and all of them big and small had been used on one orifice or another of hers.

While she worked on bring his dildo to life he turned his gaze to the girl. "'Look at her sallow youth, she reminds me so much of you when we met. She could be your likeness in the looking glass of time. Beautiful, intelligent, well educated, good teeth too, but a real daddies brat for who no mortal is quite satisfactory, passionately attached to whatever whim had taken her that month. What had it been when we met, oh yes you fancied yourself as a photographer, before that a writer, if memory serves you mentioned designing hand bags, and a space pilot, I remember such a collage of ambition was quite amusing."

She remembered the party they had met at it was on the top of a building celebrating a new dome covering more of the airless planet. She had drifted through the usual crowd of remote acquaintances, the ones you struggled to remember the name of. Most people had kept their attention on the painter Kuntakey, the L'enfant terrible of the red planet's art world. Her attention had been caught by the machine as she had entered the room, he stood a good foot above even the tall Martian born humans, his hands much broader. For some reason the robot looked like it kept following her around the room with one eye. He stood making charming chitchat with a collection of guests, clearly preferring the company of women to men.

She had asked a friend who the machine was, mechanicals tended not to come to these art events. The friend wasn't sure, perhaps a collector, a rich machine trying to gain acceptance in the human world by showing cultured aspirations. She felt sorry for him, the penalty for equality and ultra intelligence was a fixed life span, the acceptance of mortality as the ultimate safeguard. Getting closer the next thing she had noticed was his Scottish accent. She had had a thing about Scottish accents and given that he could speak in any accent and any language the choice excited her curiosity. Eventually after a desperate eon he had introduced himself and the downward path to purgatory had begun.

"Pay attention meat," the machine said, "and go deeper all those lessons to stop your gagging reflex should not be spurned."

She did as he requested.

"What do you think it would be like to meet your younger self? What would you tell your self, to flee me or to stop wasting time pretending to resist your natural instincts."

The latter she thought without hesitation. She began alternating between moving slowly and deeply on his shaft and moving faster. Has was clearly beginning to enjoy this, he made active her butt plug. The steel device he had forced into her ass that morning was an extension of himself with the faculty of wirelessly controlled movement. As she pleased him it began to vibrate in her ass, then expanding slightly causing exquisite pain.

"Ah, ah, my real concern is would you get on with your earlier self?" the machine continued in his monolog. "There is no greater love than the love of self. Could you seduce your self? Perhaps you might hate the creature of the darkness that you came. Could your make your self understand that we all fated to become what we most dislike?"

She came up for air. "You are my destiny Master," she said gasping for air then going down again.

"The machine bent over, I know and you are mine. Now lie face down."

She flung herself to the floor like a child about to have a tantrum. The machine lifted her hips up from behind. The polished eternal titanium band she wore like a slave collar slid down her neck From this point she could see through the glass railing to the crowd below, everyone was ignoring them getting on with their own lives, but at any moment someone might look up, point and shout. Under her coat she was wearing a catsuit made from a faux patent leather polished to the sheen of a sergeants parade boot, perhaps she might be mistaken for something mechanical. The material could breathe so the machine liked keeping her in it for prolonged periods, over the years she was used to it now she lived in it like a second skin. The machine admired the twin polished curves of her ass as she presented nested on two perfect black stilettos. He undid the back flap and checked her wetness. Pulling out the Chinese balls and dropping them on the floor and began to enter her. Now the head which had to this point been static began to vibrate the spots turn.

"Find her in the crowd, eight thousand six hundred and seventy two passengers per hour are far too few to hide her from your gaze."

She opened her black rimed eyes to seek the off-worlder. She was sitting down on a chair scanning the crowds around them for a familiar face any familiar face.

The machine began to thrust into her, "I want you to frisk together until the dawn. I want you to push her so high she will think she'll never come back down. I want you to deny her nothing, pull the ground away so she will never touch it at again. I want you to bring her fire into you. I want you to say that you love her, I want you to say that you need her, I want you to mean it with every fragment of your soul."

"I hate you," she panted as he began to thrust into her. He had laced her matching patent corset tightly that morning and it made her short of breath forcing her to gasp at his attentions.

"Master please," she said, he had slowly trained her to only come when he spoke a certain phrase, now he could deny her an orgasm until the point he chose. It worked both ways he could tell her to come even if she was shouting and ranting against him.

"Watch her, isn't she lonely."

"Master please!"

"Can you see your self walking together on the misty shore?"

"Yes Master."

"For ever?"

"Yes Master."

"Is she smiling?"

She panted, she was so close, the machine kept altering the pattern and rhythm of his thrusts, he could play like this for hours. A finger from the member began to dance lightly on her clit. He thrust into her like a shooting speed boat hitting a hard wave.

"On the misty shore is she smiling?" he asked again.

"Yes!" she would have said anything.

"People like you find it so easy," he said mysteriously.

He bent forward whispered the words to her, he had tied a spell around her soul tighter than any corset and this released it, she came, she came like a surge of fire from her clit, The machine put his fingers over her mouth and she moaned wildly into his palm. While she did he injected a load of warm oil, silicon gel, saline solution and lubricant into her. She could feel his daemon seed occupy her uterus again.

"Oh god!" she said still muffled, he released his hand. "Shit I haven't come like that for months!" she confessed breathless. It was a tribute given their nearly daily play, each climax more delicious than the last. She stiffened her hard muscles trying to either punish the machine by squeezing his member or keep him in her holding on to that moment a bit longer. She licked his metal fingers, smearing her scarlet lipstick and gloss over his digits. He pushed one into her mouth which she wildly sucked on like a hungry calf on the udder.

"Time to come again," the machine gabbed her hands behind her back and pinned her down ready to start again.

"No stop she might leave," she responded.

"I will find her or another, you must learn nothing is more important than the pleasure I take from you."

"Please Master," she said still breathless from the first orgasm, inside she felt like she was slowly deflating like a used airbag.

"You must be always ready to please your Master, must I beat that into you again?" the machine intoned.

"Master I beg you," she pleaded.

His hand made to her hot clit and begin again.

"Serix," she said in desperation, the machine froze, she too had her own magic words for him, "We must go after the girl, that girl, end of line," she ordered. After she had completed her commands the machine gained animation again, waking as if from a light dream. The magic word was a secret gift from Hyperion, that he had shared with her.

The machine picked her up from the floor and put her down standing on her four inch stiletto heels again.

"I have a better idea," the machine announced, "the hunt has begun, the blood is up and the hunter must not be shy or prey will escape. You have our quarry now it is time for you to flush it out, be gone bitch there will be no intermission until you have her before me."

"'Yes Master, as Master directs, this flesh toy hears and obeys," she said bowing her head, then standing up straight, she pulled on the long coat and marched to the opening fire door. She glided gracefully out sure in her purpose, the machine was going to force her to catch this vacant fruit regardless of her or the girl's desires.


07.07.08

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