Slave Robots For Women

Zara and Cecile sit on the terrace of a small French chateau, looking out onto an olive grove basking in late afternoon sunset. Zara’s husband is away so Cecile, her good friend from university, has been invited to stay. Zara has opened champagne and they’ve enjoyed a delightful afternoon, catching up on news. Now, as she fills the glasses once again, she says,

‘My dear Cecile, I have something rather extraordinary to tell you. I have a good  friend called Rosa and she’s a scientist. She’s very clever and she’s been working for a company in Lyon that has been trying to produce a robotic male sex doll. Well, after many years of research, it seems they’ve just come up with a prototype. Rosa asked me if I want to take part in some sort of testing and market research and I said yes. Basically that means spending a weekend alone with this sexbot and then filling in a consumer questionnaire afterwards. I had arranged to do this next weekend. However, it was delivered this morning, about an hour before you arrived. I called Rosa and she apologised for the mistake. She said the girls from the lab will collect it tomorrow morning at ten. So, Cecile, I don’t know how you feel about this….’

Later…

After a good meal and a fine bottle of Chablis, Cecile follows Zara to a lavish room at the back of the chateau, complete with marble pillars, chandeliers and an ancient stone fireplace. Its walls are adorned with oil paintings and lush red velvet curtains. A roaring fire is alight and in front of it is a white fur skin rug. Beside it, lying on the floor is a large purple rectangular box.

‘It’s very heavy, so I had them bring it here, rather than carry it upstairs to the bedroom.’

Zara approaches it slowly, followed by Cecile.

The lid of the box has a clear plastic window and inside is a male figure lying on its back with its eyes closed, sealed up inside a clear plastic sack. Its skin is of white latex, smooth and tight all over.  It has a huge and beautifully shaped cock, firm and erect.

‘How do you turn it on?’ asks Cecile and at once they giggle.

‘You have to activate it with your phone.’ says Zara.

‘You dial a number and punch in the code written on the side of the box. Then you just give it commands. It only responds to the voice speaking into the phone.

I guess that’s to stop it playing around with other women…’

She punches numbers in her phone and then starts speaking slowly and clearly.

‘Activate Pig Slave, five, zero, zero, one.’

The lid of the box begins to lift.

The robot slowly raises its upper body until it is sitting upright. The cellophane sack drops away from the robot’s head. It turns itself on its knees and then crawls out of the sack and over towards Zara. Its movements are slow and mechanical. Around its neck is a leather collar and a silver chain leash drags along the floor beside him. 

‘Why is it crawling?’ asks Cecile.

‘Robots apparently still can’t walk very naturally so they’ve decided that their male slave bot should just crawl, which is no bad thing when you think about it. I guess it also means you can’t take it out of the bedroom.’

‘And what’s that?’ asks Cecile.

She points to a small instruction booklet, attached to a piece of cotton, around his neck.

Zara pulls the booklet off the robot’s neck and starts to read.

‘Ah, this is a list of all the instructions it responds to.’

Cecile cannot take her eyes off the robot. It has a lean body shape, and when she reaches out to touch its shiny rubbery skin, she finds it is warm and soft. Its head has no hair or ears, just smoothed out features and small openings for the eyes and mouth.

‘It looks like it’s wearing a mask. I expected a more realistic looking face’ she says.

‘Ah. Well Rosa says they haven’t quite perfected that yet. And they’re thinking that something neutral like this might be what women prefer. OK. Here we go.’

Zara looks down at the robot and starts to speak to it in a commanding voice.

‘Give me oral sex, level one, pig slave.’

‘Yes, mistress.’ it replies, in a soft monotone.

‘My God, it talks!’ squeals Cecile.

‘That’s all it says. After every command, apparently.’

Zara drops her skirt, pulls down her knickers and stands legs apart in front of the sex doll. It lifts its head and out from the mouth hole comes a moist and very realistic tongue. The sex doll moves in and within seconds she is engulfed in pleasure.

‘OK. Now. Pig slave. Level two.’

‘Yes mistress.’

‘Tongue rotation. Clockwise…’

‘Yes mistress.’

‘Faster, pig slave.’

‘Yes mistress.’

‘Now anti-clock wise, and a gentle bite on the clit every ten seconds, pig slave.’

‘Yes mistress.’

‘Mmmmmmmm.’

Cecile feels compelled to interrupt with more questions.

‘Why are you calling it Pig Slave?’

Zara replies slowly, her voice wavering by an approaching orgasm.

‘It’s what the girls in the lab decided to call it. I guess it’s easier than calling it Robotic Male Sex Toy…. Mmmm. Oooo. Apparently each time it hears the words ‘Pig Slave’ it activates a device that keeps the cock hard and erect… Aaaah..’

Zara’s head is tilted upwards, her eyes are closed, her arms are moving freely, hands floating in the air uncontrollably, and she’s smiling, moaning with blissful pleasure.  And so it goes on, till finally she collapses on the floor in a heap of post orgasmic delight. Cecile meanwhile has picked up the booklet is reading aloud the bits she finds particularly amusing.

‘My God!’ Listen to this - Kissing, soft, kissing hard, hard-wet, hard-dry…

Nipple biting, soft, medium and hard, body licking, slow fast… Penetration, top, bottom, slow, medium, fast, extra-hard.  Note: The semen is drinkable. It is made from a blend of fresh coconut juice and egg yoke!’

Zara holds her hand out. Cecile hands back the booklet. Zara looks down the list and then says, ‘Now then Pig slave, get on your back, legs straight on the floor.’

‘Yes mistress.’

The robot shifts position, silently, robotically. Cecile listens closely to see if she can hear the tiny motors humming inside. While Zara settles herself astride the robot, Cecile decides to get up to find another bottle of wine from the cellar, and maybe do a bit of washing up.

By the time she’s finished the dishes. Zara enters the kitchen, flushed and grinning ear to ear.

‘Wow. I’d say ten out of ten. Best fuck I’ve had in years. Not since Tommy Hannigan, remember him?’

Cecile laughs, raises her eyes to the ceiling in memory of the adorable Tommy Hannigan.

‘Now I’ve led it to the bathroom and instructed it to wash it’s dick, which it seems to have done very thoroughly, because now it’s as big as ever. So if you want to test it, feel free.’

Later…

So now Cecile is naked and on her knees, elbows on the white fur rug, sipping more champagne while Zara is draped across the chaise longue, and they’re chatting about how impressed they are with the male slave sex doll.

‘I never imagined it would be as good as this.’ says Cecile.

‘I know.’  says Zara, lighting another cigarette. ‘I mean you would almost think it was a real man, only real men wouldn’t be able to do this, you know, stay hard for as long as you want them to, and come only when you’re ready, and only if you wish it.’

‘Too right.’

‘And how many times can this thing ejaculate? Four times a day?’

‘Up to six, it says in the booklet.’

‘Well there you are then. Not many men can do that…’

As they chit and chat, Cecile is being gently ass fucked on level one by the pig slave robot. She adores the sensation of it thick rubbery rod pumping rhythmically at level 5. She’s never taken a tool this thick before. It’s driving her crazy and right now she doesn’t ever want it to stop.

So the testing and evaluating continues long into the night, and the greatest pleasure comes at the end when both Zara and Cecile decide to use the robot at the same time. Cecile lies back on the rug, and the robot is on its knees fucking her, while Zara stands astride Cecile, her cunt in the robot’s rubbery face, her hands clasped firmly round the back of its rubbery head. Both girls moan in harmony, lost in pleasure, while the robot is locked between them, trusting silently at level 4 and licking at level 3, until finally they climax together in one final wave of exquisite pleasure. At three am, having had enough of testing, Zara commands the robot to go back into its box, and then they wander back into the kitchen.  For the next hour, they sit at the table, sipping camomile tea, going through the questionnaire. There’s no debate; the robot gets top ratings.

Later…

Cecile cannot sleep, for she’s re-living some of the activities she engaged in earlier with the robot, and feeling guilty about them. The fact that the robot was so docile and compliant had brought out the worst in her, and she found herself treating it very badly.  She had started by calling it names - You’re a worthless piece of shit - yes mistress - You’re a cock-sucking whore - yes mistress - behaviour she’d never get away with at home with her husband Bertrand. She had no idea what came over her.  And that wasn’t all. She couldn’t resist pissing into its mouth and making it wear her bra, and while she was thrusting down onto its gorgeous dick, she had her hands gripped so tight around its neck, no human would have survived.

She can’t sleep. She gets out of bed and goes downstairs, finds a sleeping tablet in her handbag, and then heads to the kitchen for a glass of water. While she’s there, she hears a noise, like someone coughing softly. She creeps along the corridor till she reaches the room where they’d left the robot, packed away in its purple box.

She peers into the room to find the box empty and the robot sitting crossed legged on the white fur skin rug, looking into the fire and smoking a cigarette. 

It turns its head and freezes when it sees Cecile, standing in the doorway.

She doesn’t know what to say. She notices that its dick is no longer erect.

The robot speaks, softly so as not to alarm her.

‘OK. Listen. Don’t be frightened. It’s ok. I’m not really a robot.  If you promise not to make a noise, I’ll prove it.’

Now its movements are no longer slows and robotic. It lifts its hands behind its neck and fiddles for a second and then moments later pulls off the latex mask.

‘Hi. I’m Ben.’

Cecile is looking at a man aged mid-twenties I would say,  dressed in a white rubber suit, with a sweet and gentle face, moist with sweat, and short white mousey hair.

Ben goes on to tell Cecile everything that has happened to him since he met a girl in a bar six months ago, about the weird therapist she took him to, the meditation sessions, the hypnotherapy exercises, the training course, the daily mantras, the gradual subtle mind-control programme that he had been put on without his knowing, which he now realises has been designed to transform him into a mindless robot.

He explains that his brainwashing is basically a rewiring of his brain so that he remains locked in a state of extreme pleasure, his head filled with nothing more than the desire to follow orders from his mistress. Cecile is appalled by this terrifying story and feels compelled to offer whatever help she can. She tells him  they must call the police at once, track these people down, before others are entrapped. But Ben says it’s too late for that. Thousands of men have been enslaved by this technique already. He’s seen warehouses filled with lines of naked men all in a trance, kneeling and drooling while masturbating into buckets, all of them being programmed, turned into mindless sex slaves. Nevertheless, Cecile is adamant that together they will stop this terrible thing. She will look after him and protect him from them should they try to capture him again.

‘Stop it?’ says Ben. ‘Look. You’ve caught me. I stepped out of trance. I thought I could slip out just for a cigarette. I saw them and couldn’t resist one. I was just taking a break. Just slipping back into consciousness and being Ben again for a moment, and making sure I knew what I was doing…’

He pauses to take a final drag of the cigarette, before flicking it into the fire.

‘But I’ve thought about it and I realise I’m quite happy to carry on being Pig Slave.’

With that he picks up the mask and pulls it back over his head.

‘But Ben. Wait. You’ve been brainwashed!’

‘Yes, and it means I am in a state of permanent blissful arousal and I haven’t a care in the world.’

He walks over to the box.

‘Will you help me back into the bag?’

Cecile slips the clear plastic sack down over his head and slides it down till he’s completely inside it.  Then she says, ‘By the way, I’m sorry if I was a bit rough with you earlier.’

From inside the clear plastic sack she hears him say, ‘No worries. I’m a Pigslave. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters any more.’

Then he lays himself back inside the box and Cecile slides the thick cardboard lid down to seal him in. Suddenly she feels a wave of fatigue pass through her body. The sleeping tablet is really kicking in, so she returns to bed and this time falls instantly to sleep.

Later….

She wakes when she hears voices outside. She looks out of her window. There’s a van in the drive.  Two women in bright blue overalls are carrying out the purple box and lifting it into the back of the van. She sinks back into bed and sleeps a little longer, till she’s woken up by Zara with a glass of mint tea.

‘How are you feeling?’

‘Good.’ she replies with a mellow smile.

Zara sits on the bed.

‘They took it away an hour ago. I spoke to Rosa and told her we were both impressed and had filled in the on-line questionnaire together. She sounded very pleased and said with luck the company plans to start making them commercially later in the year.  And guess what? She said that since we’d taken part in the product testing, we’ll be offered the chance to have one each for a month, free of charge!’

Cecile sips her coffee, and then looks up with a smile.

‘Wow, that would be nice. But I’d also like to have a little chat with your friend Rosa…’