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Human Android Ch. 01

By: StoryTeller07



Professor Draper dashed from the kitchen into the garage looking desperately around for somewhere to hide. 

Only a few minutes ago she had a wonderful sex session during which she pretended to be William's android. She had planned the session knowing William, her husband, couldn't resist wanting to give him something to remember on his business trip. He was late and dashed off for the airport.

There was no one in the house and the skin tight android outfit was too difficult to remove, so she padded down to the kitchen for a desperately needed drink. 

Anne had a gulp of juice then gulped in fear. Rebecca had arrived unexpectedly with friends. Thankfully eighteen year olds don't have a stealth mode. She was in the kitchen wearing a flesh coloured sheath, hiding nothing of her hour glass figure. Anne panicked and fled into the garage. She just had to keep out of their way until she could escape back upstairs to the safety of her bedroom. 

Showing off a near naked body to her daughter's friends would be embarrassing. Wearing nothing but an android suit would provoke laughter and they were sure to guess why. Her daughter would be disgusted with her. 

She knew at least one friend played this very same game and it worked for them too. As she thought about it why else would a control skin be sold except to a paraplegic? Thinking it must be helping so many marriages around the world left her feeling much better about it. It wasn't sleazy it was keeping their relationship going and that saved their marriage and their life style.

This was the twenty-second century with so much achieved, yet marriage was still the same precipice walk. Real meat was no longer in the diet, to prevent global warming, so everyone was healthy with a slim figure. Anne was no different, she was almost skinny. She was thirty-six with good skin, nice legs and a pretty face.

When first married, long before they started this game, William convinced her to get breast enlargement. This lasted awhile before he talked her into another therapy session. It was easy enough, a course of pills then a check up to see her back could stand the extra weight. That was about it, no side effects and no problems. 

Now they played the android game they weren't needed so she was thinking of getting them reduced. She always thought she looked top heavy and slightly ridiculous with them pushed out over such a small frame. They stuck out straight and perky like everyone else's breasts these days, only a little too much. So much so it was difficult getting an android skin to fit. Like them all it was skin tight and thin like flesh coloured stockings. 

When switched on she could perform like an android forgetting about restrictive social mores. Either she or her husband could control the suit with voice commands or invoke a pre-set program. He liked to take control using a one of the programs making her into a very personal maid or having her performing like a slut. 

An advantage was when he forgot she was his wife and treated her like a new lover. Different faces and hairstyles meant more daring play could be tried out while in disguise. She could be a different woman for him every night. 

What really got him going was that her usual habits and boundaries were pushed aside. It was a surprise to find she enjoyed being dominated, being told what to do and ultimately pandering to his whims. It switched her on too. 

So they looked into the possibility of having an implant. It sounded rather dramatic but found it was just an overnight stay in a clinic. Anne was cajoled into staying right there and then, despite misgivings. She soon became glad he had pushed her into it, once getting the hang of it. It was a powerful tool so their game became all the more intense, so exciting he performed like a young stud.

***

In the garage she listened to their excited chatter hearing it was charity week at the university. There was nowhere to hide in the garage despite the piles of junk. No-one had a car these days as everyone just hired an electric vehicle appropriate to what was needed. 

A cunning idea struck her producing brief devious smile. The best place to hide was out in the open where everyone could see you. Dressed like this she certainly wouldn't go unnoticed but in the poor lighting she might get away with it. Anne pulled off the baby-doll nightdress and shoved it in a corner. She was covered from head to foot, but it was so very thin she might as we have been naked. 

She pulled out an old stack of handbags and gave them a shake above her head. She or at least the skin was covered in dust. She stood at the back of the garage up against the wall in the shadows. Pressing at the back of the neck she felt for the control button in the hairline. When she found the right spot her arms slowly subsided into position at her sides. 

Not only was the suit now primed in android mode the implant was too. The suit would hold her up in this position for ages without effort. She was just an android waiting in storage. She could take the opportunity to relax and clear her mind of university business. It was a demanding post, head of business studies. Many on the faculty thought it a soft option but it wasn't.

The mask they had been using for their game was a replica of an old model maid android. A program in the implant was designed to influent her thinking enabling her to take on the role with William in control of her actions. He could command her to perform and she could enjoy being told what to do. No responsibility and no guilty conscience after performing lewd acts for him.

If someone did see her they would dismiss it as an old model left in storage. These youngsters were only interested in the latest gadgets, not yesterdays worn out domestic appliances. The program was activated meaning she could stand there very still for some time. She closed her eyes and relaxed. They were young and would soon become bored and move on to someone else's house.

Anne heard the door between kitchen and garage open. Suddenly the plan seemed stupid. She was a near naked woman standing in the garage, so of course she would be noticed. Her heart rate increased so much they were sure to hear it thumping away like a hammer. 

A guy shuffled in then shuffled out again. "Nothing in there of any use," Larry shrugged. 

Anne let out a controlled sigh of relief. The young guy had looked around not noticing her. It had been a good plan and the lazy youths would soon be on their way as quickly as they arrived.

"You didn't look! I'm going to find something and you two had better make some effort," Rebecca complained and stomped off in a mood.

The door hadn't been closed so Anne clearly heard her daughter remonstrating with the poor guy. Anne wanted to say leave him alone he did a good job, just move on somewhere else. She couldn't even laugh let alone speak without being told to, or do anything else either, while in this state.

As soon as they went she would shut the program down and run upstairs to change. The one drawback of the game was struggling to get the damn suit off. Why was it always the woman who had to make all the effort while the men merely contributed a bit of huff and puff?

"Well, what are you two planning on doing then? Sloping off upstairs together?" Larry accused. 

"Come on Larry, play along at least," Vernon cajoled him. "You were invited to join us why?" he asked.

Larry shrugged his shoulders. 

"You know what she's like always wanting to be in charge. You were brought in to the top team because there has to be three members. I picked you because you wouldn't be any trouble," Vernon stated. 

"Do me a favour and keep out of her way and I'll make it up to you. OK?" Vernon warned him. 

"So, I get to do all the work while you get it off with lady high and mighty Rebecca," he angrily stated. 

"Well said buddy. Only you left out the bit where I get you a Stack X forty-five mark two," Vernon said, with a big smile on his face. 

"You can't afford one and if you could there are so few you would have to wait six months just to touch one," Larry grumbled. 

"My uncle has one," Vernon smiled. "Oh! Yes! He works for a distributor and was given one for being salesman of the year. He doesn't know what to do with a sophisticated games machine so it's abandoned in his den. I only know what it is because you raved over it for two whole tedious hours last month on that boring trip," Vernon complained.

"I'll clear the garage, my parent's whole house and keep out of your way, deal?" Larry eagerly asked. His whole face was alight with a zealots gleam.

The bright shiny look on his face meant he was sorted out. It was just a matter of getting Rebecca convinced he was the one for her. "The dance is next month and I want her as my partner so you need to give me time alone with her. I want to get her into bed to make sure of it. OK?" Vernon asked.

"You sure it's a mark two, Vern?" Larry asked. Not listening or thinking about anything else.

"Did you show me pictures covered with your slobbering kisses every five minutes or not? I'd recognise a mark two from a mile away, I don't want to know but I do. Just get a big box and clear out the garage to make Rebecca happy and I'll be happy. You'll be happy with a mark two. Got it?"

"Well, I'm going up stairs to seduce the stuck up bitch," Vernon stated, with a conspiratorial wink. 

"Vernon Taylor you're a wizard," Larry said. He didn't know how Vernon did it but despite a bad reputation the girls fell for it every time.

Anne heard the conversation, fuming in silence. How dare they talk about her daughter like that! Talk was one thing, but to treat her like a disposable item of convenience was disgusting. Thinking it was all talk she tried to relax. She should know better than let young callous eighteen year olds get her excited. 

Practising a yoga contemplation routine to become calm she almost missed hearing the boy's name. Vernon Taylor! That rough piece of work was a menace on campus. Already this semester a girl had to leave after becoming pregnant because of his stupidity. She was partially to blame of course but why did it have to always be the woman that carried the can or baby even? Well obviously it had to be so.

However, the poor girl was devastated on finding out he was still playing the field, despite her condition. He had just abandoned her when it all became too inconvenient. To keep the population down there were strict rules about pregnancy so he was lucky not to have been expelled too.

Well the young bastard wasn't going to get away with mistreating her daughter. Naked or not she was going to throw him out of her house however embarrassing it would be for Rebecca. 

Without a vocal command there was just the one movement she could make and that was to reach behind her neck. With a hand slowly rising to switch off the implant program she heard Larry tromp back in. 

The thought that it would be highly embarrassing overrode the slow hand movement. Stories circulating about her being naked in the garage would be just too upsetting. She could wait a little while longer until this lad gave in and went on his way. 

That Vernon guy wouldn't be able to work on Rebecca that quickly so there was plenty of time. She would cover herself with something before confronting them then throw him out.

"Hello Professor Draper! Eh?" Larry exclaimed in surprise. He had been deep in thought imagining what he could achieve with a mark two. He just noticed a figure out of the corner of his eye and reacted to the silhouette. The large bust was known and recognised by everyone in college and of course he knew perfectly well he was in the professor's house.

Anne watched him muttering to himself completely oblivious to her presence. When he drew level and spoke it was such a shock she nearly jumped out of the skin in fright. Unable to do anything she merely kept the pose of a deactivated android, standing to attention.

"Well, well, what is it about this house," he whispered. "Everything has big tits, even the maid android," he smiled. He was thinking the husband must have a thing about breasts. If he could prove it this might win the betting on whether Professor Draper's tits were natural or artificial. 

Half the campus believed they couldn't possibly be natural while the other half couldn't believe the strict woman, always perfectly in control, would have had such an obvious enhancement. A stalemate had arisen with a large pot waiting for the brave soul to ask the harridan. No one dared. She would have bitten their heads off.

Anne was mortified when he took a hold of her breasts. There was some control left but not much and it didn't include telling a young man not to fondle her breasts. After all, sexual contact was the point of the program, although it hadn't been intended for one of the students to molest her. 

He had her breasts in his hands playing with them as though testing their weight and consistency. It was agonising to just standing there letting a complete stranger fondle her breasts. 

They looked bigger than Mrs Drapers though that could be because these were on show rather than covered by several layers of clothing. These didn't feel real but that was because they weren't, they were just android tits. 

"Nice knickers!" he said with a leering smile. 

She was wearing large white cotton knickers as a part of the baby-doll outfit. There were certain arrangements made with her husband and one of them was not to be completely naked. Despite that she was highly embarrassed that a young man was enjoying playing with her breasts while she was almost naked. It wouldn't have helped keeping on that baby-doll thing for it was completely see-thru. 

It was almost too much to tolerate. She wanted to shout at him but could only look into the distance over his shoulder while he fondled them. Damn! He was giving them a good working over. Surely he would notice the nipples growing to guess she was human. It was infuriating not daring to move or make the slightest complaint, even if it were possible to. 

They hadn't thought of this while playing their naughty games. Perhaps her husband would enjoy it when she told him about this young lad. He was playing with her breasts as though he hadn't ever felt a pair before. Certainly not ones this big he hadn't. If he found out he was fondling the Head of Business studies what then? 

At least she wasn't being turned on by it. It was just annoying that a stranger had her in this helpless position. Damn! It was her fault too! When it was her husband doing this it was exciting, very exciting, for he was taking complete charge, letting her negate all responsibility for whatever they did together.

He patted her between the legs and finished with a stroke over her crotch. 

"Bugger!" Larry exclaimed. He felt the crotch of the panties and reacted to a wet patch by pulling his hand away as though the thing in them had bitten him. After the initial surprise he dismissed it thinking it was probably an oil leak.

For a moment she thought it might be a command and inwardly cried out in fear. If she had bent over for him would he have taken advantage or jumped away in fright? Was she that helpless? If her husband had commanded her she would have been unable to refuse him anything. Being buggered was a strict taboo he kept well away from. He wanted too keep her playing along so always kept to the rules. 

She hadn't thought to ask about building restrictions in to the program or applying limits to who could play with her. There shouldn't have been anyone playing with her body, except her husband. It was all too frightening to think about. 

"Maid, are you ready to obey?" he asked.

"Yes master," Anne responded. Damn! She knew that was the implant responding but it was connected to the suit as well as her mind. It and the suit were designed for paraplegics so would bypass her motor control. This damn youth was effectively in control of her body!

What damn game he had in mind was too terrible to contemplate. He could have her performing in all sorts of embarrassing ways.

"Collect all the small stuff in here and load it into the truck," he told her. 

A small sigh of relief escaped her lips sounding like a machines movement after a long wait. A sprinkling of dust fell from her body as she walked to a shelving unit and picked up the abandoned handbags. 

Her misgivings were well founded however. The initial relief that he was using her as a maid evaporated when she walked toward the small garage side door. It creaked on hinges needing oil then opened onto the outside world. The sunlight made her eyes rapidly flicker behind the mask lenses before they reacted to the bright sunshine.

Anne stepped out into the street concentrating on not fainting with fright. The street was a university housing area for senior staff. Large houses in an open planned landscape, without hedges or fences, surrounded by manicured lawns. From a distance it would look as though she were naked out there for anyone to see!

That young guy had recognised her silhouette and anyone else would too. Unable to move her head she scanned her eyes back and forth but couldn't see anyone. Her fellow faculty members must be away or preparing for the next semester. It didn't matter where they were as long as they weren't here. 

After pushing the handbags into the back of the truck she walked unhurriedly back to the garage. With every step she tried to push her body into a run but it was no use. Back inside she moved methodically around the shelving collecting an arm full of discarded ornaments. 

This time she deposited them in a cardboard box then took the walk of shame out to the truck. Again she was lucky not to be seen. At last the shelving had been cleared for the last awful trip to the truck. Feeling a little more confident she walked out to it. 

"Hi Anne!" someone called from a passing car. 

If not so much under control she would have dropped the box and run like a frightened rabbit. Instead she looked up and replied. "Hi master," she replied.

Out of the corner of her eye she was relieved to see the car drive up to a distant house to turn into a driveway. The hire car wasn't recognisable but that big old mansion was the deans. He probably hadn't heard her reply and it may have looked as though she were wearing a bikini for the box covered her top half. 

That was no consolation. He would have something to say about such an unseemly display in the street in broad daylight. Inwardly she cringed at the thought of what the unworldly dean would say at the next faculty meeting. 

She pushed the box onto the truck wanting to cry in shame. Damn! She had her back to him so he would now see she wore nothing but a big pair of old knickers. Why her husband wanted her to wear them she still hadn't figured out and this was no time to stop to think about it. 

She desperately needed to get back before he got out of the car. The box stuck on something and she had to shove the damn thing hard. It caught on another box and she had to manoeuvre that one out of the way. She heard the car door slam and just knew he would be staring down the street at her. 

When she walked back to the garage he would have a clear profile view of a large pair of breasts pushed out in front of her. She looked down at them knowing from experience how well the suit kept them separated, pointing straight out like two shelves. 

At last the damn box was in. She turned and walked back painfully aware of how the breasts bounced with every step. She tried not to but her eyes swivelled sideways straining for a glimpse of him. 

A sigh of relief tickled her throat. He was rummaging around in the back of the car. As she calmed down she remembered he was badly short sighted so probably didn't even notice what she had or hadn't been wearing when he cruised by. 


Human Android Ch. 01



Larry had been sitting reading through an old pile of comics. When she came up to him to wait patiently for the next order he lifted his eyes from it to blink at her. 

Anne saw the open page and would have shuddered if she could. It was soft porn. The cartoon woman with huge breasts was cavorting in what she thought to be an impossible position. She compared the improbable cartoon breasts with her own and realised they weren't so different. 

Was that how men saw her, it certainly explained the attention she got at parties. She hid them the best she could under business suits, always wearing modest outfits. It was a difficult task and a bit of a failure if the students were asked. 

Larry looked up at her than down at the comic, obviously comparing the two large pair of tits. 

"You're finished then," he said. 

"Yes master," Anne replied. She hoped this was the end of a humiliating experience and could return upstairs. As soon as he left she could un-set the program to release herself. While her husband was away she might even use this naughty experience in a bath-time fantasy.

She noticed the look in his eyes and the mood of relief was replaced by anxiety. Professor Draper was never anxious or unsure of herself. She was the most formidable professional on campus who brooked no excuses, demanding decorum, responsibility and dedication from students and her lecturers. 

He looked at the cartoon woman again then back up at her breasts that seemed to loom over him. He liked what he saw. He reached up and tweaked a nipple. It reacted and the other too; flowering like buds in spring. 

Even if she had been able this was not the time to admonish a student not to toy with a professor's breasts. Just the audacity of it was enough to keep her silent and the anger kept all chances of arousal at bay. 

As she thought, it didn't take him long to become bored with just the swelling of nipples on an unresponsive object. He had been testing them with pinches and pulls to see how far they would distend. He probably thought it was an inbuilt mechanism, impressive enough but that was all that happened.

One of the sex programs hadn't been activated so there would be no sexual reaction, no sighs of excitement. With her husband the groans of pleasure would have been un-resistible but thankfully the youth hadn't demanded more from her other than the basic maid. 

"Get into the back of the truck with the rest of the junk," Larry said. The sound in his voice was definitely an order. She hadn't noticed the huskiness of arousal but heard a definite order that couldn't be resisted.

At the small door she saw the campus bus pull into the street on its usual route, ready to pick up and drop off students and faculty members. There wasn't even the chance of hesitating as Anne stepped out into the spotlight of a bright afternoon.

Her legs were weak from feeling faint at the sight of the vehicle. Everyone she knew, and didn't know, would hear of this. The skin tight flesh coloured suit wouldn't be distinguishable from nakedness. As it slowly passed by everyone would be gawping at her, nude in the garden. The tale of Professor Draper cavorting around in the street naked would grow in the telling to unforgivable proportions. 

The implant and suit kept her on track, obeying the last command, to get into the back of the truck. Again she couldn't keep from looking up, as much as she tried to avoid it. This time it was easy to see right ahead as the vehicle slowly moved past. 

Her breathing slowed right down then speeded up. There was no one in the automatic vehicle! No driver of course, but no one else, not a student or lecturer or fellow professor either.

Delivered from abject shame she happily clambered into the back of the truck. While settling down among the boxes she was elated on escaping an abject humiliation. When the back door began to slide down into place the mood swung back to the other extreme, to dire dread. The eyes behind the lenses opened wide in fright as she tried to scream.



Human Android Ch. 02



The back door of the truck slid upward with a hiss of compressed air. Anne had brought her emotions under control by thinking over positive aspects of the situation. After all she was a professor and head of the business department, therefore used to analysing difficult situations. 

Although virtually naked in the back of a truck she was wearing a mask so wouldn't be recognised on campus. It was moulded onto her face and wouldn't just fall off. It was styled as an android maid, which was in keeping with the thin one piece android body suit she wore. 

The young man driving the truck had been fooled in the poor light of the garage so she hoped he would continue to be deceived. He was delivering her to a warehouse for the student charity week with other items scavenged from all over town. Once in the warehouse there was sure to be some clothing and once left alone she could switch off the program that kept her in the maid android mode. 

She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Anne conveniently ignored it had been a big mistake putting herself into this vulnerable state in the first place. She studiously avoided the fact it had gone from bad to worse, with the prospect of becoming calamitous. The implant and body suit combined to keep her helpless, unable to do anything but obey whoever commanded her. 

It only needed one student to find out who she was and a dire rumour would spread around campus like wildfire. She should have switched off the damn implant while in the back of the truck but she had been so terrified her thoughts had clouded. All she had thought about was being driven away form home while almost naked and in such a helpless state.

"Hi Larry, you need a hand?" a student asked. 

"It's OK! Not much here. I'll bring it in but make sure you label it all with our group number," he replied. He wanted to impress the other two to make sure he got that games consol. 

Anne was less confident now. She didn't think anyone would be in the warehouse and the lazy students in there were sure to get her working as a maid, sorting through all the junk. The bored guys might even decide to have a bit of fun with the big breasted android. 

***

The humility of working naked in a warehouse, supervised by young students, conjured up a hot scene. She imagined bending over while they watched until they decided to just get her to stretch and bend before them like a performing animal.

Like Larry they would all want to fondle the large breasts, perhaps comparing them with girlfriends and pinup models. It would be humiliating to hear them compare these android breasts with Professor Draper's breasts; hers in both cases. When bending over for them the android skin might split open at the crotch!

It was designed to do that for the bathroom and of course for her husband in the bedroom. These students would find a nice hot pussy, looking so real they would just have to use it to compare with a real one. 

Anne wouldn't be able to say anything but 'Yes sir," even if she was asked. There was always one brave guy and the others would follow, wanting to be a part of the group. 

How many were in there? Anne remembered a staff meeting when one of her lecturers mentioned six of the rowdiest students had been assigned to looking after things. Not a punishment he had told the meeting, but it was. Wasn't she just one of the things to be taken care of now? 

She was just an object to be dumped in a warehouse to be sold off for charity. It occurred to her she might end up anywhere. An old guy might buy the out of date maid android then discover she was human. Would he free her from the program controlling her or keep her as a sex object? 

The six young virile men in the warehouse could certainly look after her. She could almost feel their exploring hands running over her body. She knew Stephen would be there as the most wayward student on campus. He wouldn't waste time with foreplay; after all she was just an obedient android to them, just an object to be used.

She felt a hard rigid cock pressing at her lips then slide right in and she gasped in outrage and lust. She couldn't help it. It was outrageous that the worst of the students were lining up to take her. Would it have been any better if her best students were taking her? 

They had an android sex doll to play with and they were going to make the most of it. While Stephen was pumping her from behind the others were encouraging him. 

"Slam its cunt Steve! I'll take its ass, I don't want its cunt after you guys have messed it up," one state confidently.

"What about the mouth, can that be used?" another asked.

"We'll see who recovers from their first fuck then start using its mouth," Stephen said, over her shoulder. 

Anne had never been so insulted and abused in her whole life, or been so aroused. She desperately need to tell them to leave her alone, but couldn't say a word. She began to murmur sounds on an outward breath. 

"You can't do this to a professor, you're naughty boys, stop it!" she pleaded. A desperate urgency in her voice became critical as she felt the student push deep into her body, ready to cum. "Please master, fuck me harder, make me cum," she wailed.

Before she could be released from the first orgasm another student invaded her body pushing her toward another orgasm. These young men were potent and alive with energy, able to fulfil her needs and more. As each took his turn she was pushed beyond previous limits until she thought her body would explode from so many sensations assaulting her mind. 

They were vigorously working her pussy but while the last one took her Stephen was lifting her mouth to his cock. These young men were ready too quickly. They were lining up to fuck her face. Soon it felt as though her stomach was full with their hot sperm. What was next, her asshole? They had all day and the next to play with the sex doll and they had nothing else to do but fuck her, over and over again.

***

Larry threw a sheet over the android and dragged a box out of the truck. 

Anne was startled, feeling something cover her body and the sound of a box being dragged brought her round. Her eyes swivelled desperately behind the mask. It was ridiculous but she had to check for students using her body from such a fantasy feeling so real. 

A feeling of relief flooded her mind but underneath there was a small disappointment. She tried to bring her breathing under control for surely the loud panting could be heard in the close confines of the truck. 

It seemed he wasn't going to off load her here so was he taking her back home? Why bring her in the first place if he was going to unload the truck himself? He didn't want anyone to see her. That meant he intended to keep her. What for? A sigh of weariness escaped her lips. Was this nightmare ever going to end? 

If he was taking her back to his apartment she would have to reveal herself before it went too far. At least when they were alone she could minimise the damage to her reputation by getting him to promise never ever to tell anyone. 

The image of him mauling her breasts was squeezed out of her mind. She dare not let anyone hear of that or the sordid little secret that she played at being her husband's android. Standing before a student, virtually naked, telling him she was a professor was not something she looked forward to but it would have to be done.

***

The android had been whisked up stairs to Larry's apartment without anyone seeing it. He had an idea and wanted to try it out. The security had been completely changed on the mark two games consol but a rumour was it was based on an android algorithm. If he broke into this androids programming it might help him hack the mark two. He would be way ahead of the guys while other gamers were waiting just to touch one.

"The dust is making me sneeze! Get to the bathroom and clean up, make it thorough, down there too. Hurry up and get back out here," he ordered.

"Yes, master," Anne replied. At last she was alone. A quick shower and then de-activate the implant. There was a towel, an old one, but big enough to wrap around her body until she got some clothes. Jeans and t-shirt borrowed from Larry would do. 

In the shower she peed down the drain, a dirty habit she didn't share but needs must. From experience she knew using soap and water, while wearing the bodysuit, was an effective way of cleaning it and even her own skin underneath.

She made a good thorough job of her pussy as it had been used that morning, though she wasn't thinking of that. At home she would have douched herself but here made the best of what was available. 

Once dry she tied up her hair in a bun unable to style it from a lack of female luxuries. She completed his instructions so took a deep breath, standing still, poised for a moment. At last Anne was ready to raise a hand to the back of her neck. She had no other control of her body except the emergency release which was to raise her hand up to firmly touch the switch at the back of the neck. It looked like a small mole or birthmark. 

Her husband usually released her with a voice command but this guy didn't know anything about it. At last she could switch off the damn program and be free. She knew why it had been delayed until now rather than straight away. It was a daunting task facing that student to admit she was Professor of Business studies while only wearing a towel. 

She had worked as his maid and he had played with her breasts. He would also guess why she was dressed this way. She was a near naked woman, helpless, in a young mans apartment so that meant only one thing. Before it got any worse she would have to get on with it.

The door flew open, "Come on! You've been in here long enough," he berated her. The computer had been set up ready and he was eager to examine the androids security programming. 

Anne followed behind him realising her panties were back there on the bathroom floor with the wet towel. Things had just become worse, a little step at a time, yet inexorably sliding down toward a disaster. So what was next?

"That's better. I didn't want that dust getting into these delicate electronics," he said.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see what looked like junk piled on a desk with random wiring keeping it from falling to the floor. It didn't look like the business computers she was used to. 

A shudder rippled down her legs from a sudden thought. This nerdy guy wasn't going to play with her body he was more interested in playing with the program controlling her. What that might do to her was frightening. 

***

At the medical centre a machine had implanted the chip into her brain with absolute precision. Although it had sounded daunting it was no more serious than having a pierced tongue, or so her husband explained. She only had to stay overnight as a precaution. He was right she hadn't felt the slightest pain or any ill effects. She worked at the university as usual as though it weren't there. 

When her husband activated it she was under his control otherwise there was no sign of it doing anything at all. They had warned her not to keep it active for hours at a time but she had joked her husband wasn't up to that much excitement. 

She must have been nervous for it was the only naughty thing she had said outside of the bedroom in her whole life. With a sigh she thought it no wonder he had wanted her to loosen up. In the end she had been forced to under the influence of the implant.  

It had been a revelation! Never would she have guessed that being a submissive was so powerfully exciting, yet it was proven without doubt when her husband controlled her through one of the programs in the implant. She was able to let go all responsibility, for the sex to be sublime and the orgasms overwhelming. 

***

"I can't get used to those tits, they're so spectacular," he said. Taking a hold of them he pulled at the nipples watching them swell. "It's a pity you're not a sex doll," he chuckled. "They must have used the same breasts but you've got nothing between the legs," he shrugged, with a disappointed look on his face. 

"Wait a minute, you're not still leaking? I don't want oil or whatever on the consol chair," he said. His hand slid between her legs to feel nothing but the smoothness of the suit. 

With some relief she realised the crotch would be sealed unless she was ordered to open it up. Anne had become used to this young man fondling her breasts but the inquisitive fingers exploring her crotch was something new to endure. It didn't matter if he noticed her taking deep breaths for androids did this to add some realism to an inert body; what purpose it served she couldn't recall.

"Where did that wetness in the panties come from?" he commented. 

Fortunately it wasn't interpreted as a question for her to answer. Her panties had been wet when he first touched her and he avoided her crotch ever since. It seemed she was safe enough after all because it looked as though she was anatomically lacking, like a plastic doll. 

"There's something there, a seam," he commented. 

"Maid, bend over and open your legs," he ordered. 

The word maid got the programs attention and the body suit followed the order. With no option but to obey she bent over a chair to spread her legs. Now was the time to cry out she was a college professor, before it went too far. What then? Should she ask this young man to unhand her crotch? The humiliation of it was working on her and there was nothing she could do about it.

"Open up, wider," he clearly ordered. 

All day she had been aroused without let up. In the truck she had nearly cum while in the throws of a powerful fantasy. All the passion of the last few hours had been re-ignited leaving her switched on ready to interpret his orders in sexual terms, however innocent. 

Telling her to open up while feeling her crotch could only be interpreted one way. On hearing the words she knew what was going to happen and groaned on an outward breath.

Larry pressed at the seam running between its legs. Telling it to open up meant for it to part the legs more, so he could see what was there. In surprise he watched the seam open to reveal a convincing vagina. With such inexperience it would be realistic. 

In the dark he had fumbled in a girlfriends panties but how often came the opportunity to be on his knees looking up between a woman's legs. Not exactly an elegant pose, yet fascinating. 

"It's been disguised as a Maid Android, though really it's a sex machine. Well! I guess the professor doesn't give it out much and who would want to fuck such a harridan anyway. She probably gives instructions and awards points afterward," he chuckled. 

Anne was mortified. She knew students, even her staff, thought she was too hard on them. This was extremely humiliating. The awful thing was, it was a turning her on. She was becoming excited and even this inexperienced young man was sure to realise. He was still staring at her crotch and there was nothing she could do stop the flowering of her sex.

***

A flow of images hit her mind without warning. She was in class and Larry was under the desk. She was looking down at him and said, "Young man, you are being rude. Do you mind not staring like that?" 

"It's all right Professor, you carry on lecturing the class. I'm just examining your bald pussy then I'm going to play with it for awhile," Larry said, with a big grin on his face. 

The class could see what was happening but just sat there waiting for her to continue. She hoped someone would rescue her from just standing there delivering a lecture on customer satisfaction. As her breathing became laboured she hesitated more and more until moans of obvious pleasure interrupted almost every word. 

"Customer satisfaction, hharrr, is important, fworrr sales, innn hehhh hehhh, anyeeee business. Even fwoorrr non-repeat sales, oooohhhhh!" she blustered. "Yessss! Keep the cusssstomer satisfied, yahhh, satisfaction, oooo, must be guaranteed, yeeaasss," she yelped with every touch upon her sensitive pussy. 

***

Anne felt a finger exploring her. Of course he couldn't resist it. It delved deeper bringing on a deep ragged breathing, the only reaction possible while held helpless by the damn program. He found another 'on button', bringing forth a sudden deep intake of breath. Her stomach churned with sensations that shot outward through her limbs to tingle along strung out nerves, right to her fingers and toes.

Without her even being aware of it Larry stood up and positioned his cock. Satisfied the android hadn't been abandoned because of a fault he slid his cock against its lips. He hesitated for a moment wondering if it was safe to trust a machine with his precious member. 

Anne desperately wanted to thrust back on the hard object pressing at her lips. She had been teased all day so needed satisfaction. It no longer mattered who it was, she needed a man to fill and fulfil her need. It was infuriating not being able to move or play a part. Always there had been instructions to behave like a slut or just a sex object, sometimes something more elaborate.

He plunged in to find a warm tight grip on his cock. This was so much better than his hand he was pleased to have tried it out. The hesitation and guilt was abandoned as he sawed his way in deeper and deeper into the sex machine. 

When she breathed out a low pitched sound escaped her lips that could be mistaken for a moan of pleasure. it reminded him a sex android could do more than just accept his cock. 

"Let go, let me know you're enjoying it," he demanded. It was a total surprise to hear the android responding so wildly. It was obviously over the top for the girlfriend he played with hardly said a word and that was after an hour of effort.

"Yes! Oh! Yes! Deeper master! Fuck your maid hard fuck your maid faster, please! Oh! Master, please make your maid cum," Anne yelped between thrusts. She was this young mans maid letting him use her body and the humiliation was irresistible. Her head was being bombarded with fantasy images but nothing as powerful as being there, being fucked by a student.

"Your maid is nearly there master. Your maid needs to cum master, please, master," she squealed. How could it be anything than absolute humiliation for a college professor to be begging a student for permission to orgasm? Anne revelled in the disgrace of being in such a depraved state. 

Larry heard every word and it confirmed the sex android had an exaggerated programming for no woman would become so carried away to say such things. Nevertheless it spurred him on. He finally plunged in, pushing hard with strong young leg muscles, spurting a load into the androids pleasure hole.

"Cum maid, cum big time," he gasped, through clenched teeth.

"Oh! Thank you master," she stammered. "Oh! Master, its happening, maid's body is exploding with master's cum. Fill your maid with lovely cum, master," Anne whimpered. 

If felt as though her body had been empty; now it was filled with this young man's virile sperm. She felt his cock deep within her body throbbing then twitching, imagining his hot liquid flowing along every nerve fibre out to the furthest reaches of her limbs, into the pleasure centres of her brain. 

As though a bell tolled, vibrations of the orgasm rang throughout her being telling her she had been thoroughly taken. The orgasm reverberated from her vagina in great splashing waves, into every part of her body, sensitising breasts, hard nipples and lips, to the very tips of her ears. It was a gut wrenching orgasm like no other.

Larry's legs felt weak as though he had spurted all his energy into the machine. The android vibrated with energy seeming to hum with power. Leaning over its back in near collapse he noticed something in the hairline. He had found a connection point.




Human Android Ch. 02



He stood up, still a little shaky from the unfamiliar exertion. "Stand maid," he told it. "Sit in the chair," he added. It seemed confused and disorientated but managed to slump down into his games consul chair. 

He wondered if he had used up the last of its energy reserves so worked quickly. He needed to look at the security programming for it was outdated therefore more easily broken into. Once he had the algorithms they could be used to hack the mark two games consol; if the rumours were correct.

Anne slumped into the chair thankful for a rest. This inexperienced young man had given her the most powerful orgasm of her life. She was an experienced mature woman and he didn't even realise what he had done to her. That he had ordered it was galling and that he was so casual about taking her was demeaning. 

A little after-tremor of excitement flowed through her body wiping away the recriminations. She was again grateful for a deep orgasm. She forgave the callousness of youth for the vigour of youth was something to be appreciated. She was breathless and completely taken in by him. She wanted to shout a big thank you for a wonderful orgasm. 

Anne may be the head of department in college, but here, she was merely a maid android ready to obey him. 

'No! No! Wake up you stupid woman,' she yelled silently. It was vital not sink into a complacent state of thinking. Under control of that damn implant she might sink into the role, deeper and deeper, letting it influence her thinking more and more. It had been switched on for too long so she must guard against giving in to it. 

After a time she would stop resisting becoming a mindless maid android obediently waiting upon a master's every command. She wondered how different from now that might be. If he made her orgasm like that every day wouldn't it be an agreeable state of being. 

It would be a relief from the daily humdrum routine of work that was made all the more tedious by the complaints from her department lecturers and students. The problems usually emanated from the damn committee badly running the college. 

If she remained this young mans plaything for much longer all the pressures of life would cease. She needed to decide nothing, just obey him and orgasm like a wild animal when he fucked her brains out. Her brain, wasn't that something she needed? She must not let go! She must act before it was too late.

She felt something at the back of her neck. Like a magnetic click, metal on metal. Damn! With her hair up he had spotted the tiny contact connected to the implant. She tried to move her head forward but had been ordered to sit still in the chair and couldn't move. There was only one thing to do, use the escape routine.

His cum was starting leak from between her legs from when he had fucked her brains out. After that confronting him with who she was would be so very humiliating, but it had to be done. Her hand started to rise up as though she were about to ask a question in class, only it was headed for the back of the neck. Just a firm press, against what looked like a mole, would free her. It would switch off the implant leaving her mind free of its influence and it wouldn't be controlling the suit either. She would no longer be a maid android and could at last speak freely. 

She would then decide whether to continue pretending or order the suit to free her body too. She could even tell him to fetch clothes and help her out of the damn suit. His back was to her while he fiddled with a keyboard. A finger was inches away from its destination. 

"Stop moving, put the hand back on the arm rest," he ordered. 

A voice command shouldn't have stopped her arm! She had been under its influence too long. At least a shot of fear had washed away the dulling effects of the orgasm and sharpened up her wits. She would have to wait until he was out of the room before trying it again.

Larry slipped her hands into gloves attached to the armrests. These were part of the games consol, used together with goggles and foot pads. A cushion enhanced the feel of movement. It worked well when in a simulation race car on rough ground. The mark two though, that was another dimension in gaming!

He wouldn't be able to afford the games even if Vernon came through with the promise. This might be the only chance to find the security algorithm to help with hacking the games. The codes wouldn't be exactly the same but near enough.

Anne looked at the gloves her hands had been shoved into with a feeling of defeat. She flicked her eyes up at the screen. There was no clue there as to what he was doing. She was no programmer so why should it.

A menu in clear language appeared on screen. She watched in trepidation as he clicked on option one. A list of games came up on screen with option one highlighted meaning it was already in operation. It was the default maid android game and that was her right now. She had activated the implant without giving it a command so it had defaulted to the maid program. 

All she had wanted was to stand hidden in the garage, without moving, for as long as it took for the three of them to leave her in peace. The program took control of the suit allowing her to relax, letting it take the strain of standing up against the wall in the gloom, like an abandoned android. It nearly worked too.

She had been noticed among the junk and now here she was, in peril without a plan of escape. She desperately thought through who might rescue her. 'Damn! Damn and shit!' she shouted from within a shrinking world of options. 

Her husband was away on a long business trip. The semester didn't start for another three weeks. Her daughter was hardly home enough to notice whether she was there or not. 

What would William do if he couldn't get a hold of her on the phone? He wouldn't race home to the rescue all the way from China. He would assume she was immersed in college business or had taken a short consultancy post at a major corporation. The fee always came in useful for an exotic holiday in the sun.

It looked as though she would have to rely on her own wits as usual. The problem was the longer the blasted implant was switched on the less she could rely on thinking straight. It was infuriating and frustrating watching this young man gain control of her mind. The more she thought about it the more frightening it became. 

"No!" she must not be frightened, for it meant conscious thought would shrink away into a fantasy world, leaving her under the control of that damn implant and him. She concentrated on the list and what he might do next.

The second option was simply stated – Slut. That didn't need an explanation. She knew full well how that worked upon her and had enjoyed it in the privacy of their bedroom. She was able to be more active, teasing and flirting, turning her man on.

The third option – Sex Object - this was less pleasant for it meant less interaction on her part as all she had to do was be a willing object, like a fridge or washing machine; being filled. 

The fourth option was cheerleader. It had been tried just the once but they were to close to the reality of self-obsessed girls being bitchy to each other. Not that the program had seen it that way.

The fifth, six, seventh and ninth options all involved dressing up with appropriate acting out the role as cowgirl, whore, cocktail waitress, or French maid. 

The rest of the options hadn't been used and she didn't even know they existed. She wondered what a pony-girl and a pet-girl were. They sounded as though dressing up and acting was involved so guessed they were pretty much the same thing.

Rubber doll, submissive, and sex slave were there too and she began wondering what in hell was on the next screen. This was page one of twenty, with many options having sub-categories. She closed her eyes realising there must be a program for every kind of fantasy, fetish and perversion ever thought of. 

She wondered what would happen if something she didn't understand was selected and there were plenty of those. The program would take control of the android suit to move her body and it would subtly influence her thoughts too. The damn thing inveigled its way deeper and deeper into her mind the longer it was active. 

"Bloody hell!" Larry exclaimed. 

Anne seconded that motion! Larry was looking at the list of dreadful games and they shocked him. He was a randy young man, an expert gamer and was learning how to control an implant in her head. As the hours ticked by the implant was gaining ever greater control of her mind. It was a frightening situation but she mustn't panic, she mustn't let fear dull her mind. 

She opened her eyes behind the masks lenses guessing they could be closed off leaving her blindfolded, yet another potential obstacle. To think it had just been a bit of fun, something to keep their marriage healthy.

He returned to the main screen to select security. This was not a good sign. At least he hadn't taken the help option. Unable to move her head she strained her eyes over as far as she could to see another screen. Here were rows of numbers and letters rolling down the screen. Whatever he was doing she had a dreadful feeling it wasn't to her advantage.

"So that's it? That can't be all of it!" he groaned.

Now a steady row of digits was spread across three lines of the screen. On the fourth line she recognised the phrase she or her husband used to activate the implant ready for one of those disgusting options. 

A the moment she was relatively safe as only the default android maid option was activate because she had simply pressed the button at the back of her neck. Instead of saying the dreaded phrase he started tapping at the keyboard. 

"Something's wrong here. Where's the main control programs and memory?" Larry mused. He sat contemplating the screen for awhile. 

"Stand up!" he commanded. His hands stroked every part of her body, more than once, looking for something. "Can't find another connector," he murmured. 

He chuckled to himself. "When all else fails ask someone."

'Oh! No! Please don't involve someone else,' she thought. He was right. Someone else might see past the detail he had been staring at too closely. Someone looking at her afresh would see she wasn't an android. 

He said the phrase. The android sat up as though standing to attention ready for the second part of a command. He hesitated unsure where to go next. He pulled at the crotch of the jeans feeling it wet and sticky for he had just pushed it all back in without washing.. 

"Fourteen," he said. The number was stated clearly and precisely.

The descriptions were usually used but it seemed the option number was enough for the implant had started instructing the body suit. Anne got up out of the chair not knowing what she had been programmed to be, yet already dreading it. 

Sitting on the floor she spread her legs impressively wide, which couldn't have been achieved before purchasing the android suit. She wore it during fitness exercises to help keep to a tougher regime, though this particular position was exclusively used in the bedroom. She placed both hands face up on her knees and thrust her breasts forward, as though they needed emphasising at all. This game was new and already very embarrassing.

She looked up at Larry. "Your sex slave is ready to serve, master," she said. 

'Hell!' From that one statement it was now obvious what the implant was doing to her! As suspected it was influencing her thinking far more than the usual simple guidance. How far it would control her after being active for twenty-four hours she just didn't want to find out. 

"Clean me up slave. Lick the juices off my cock," Larry told her. He was fascinated how quickly the android scrambled on hands and knees to crawl to his feet. It pulled his cock out and greedily licked the length of his cock. 

Before this it had acted passively whereas now it seemed to actively want to please him. It wasn't long ago he cum into its hole but already he was hardening up from watching the impressive show. The feeling of a wet tongue working on his cock and balls was impressive. 

When it grasped his balls he gripped the chairs arms aware of the danger. It could crush them in one hand. He relaxed from the gentle manipulation and a rush of pleasure hardened him up. 

"That's good, that's so very good, slave," Larry moaned.

"May you're slave suck cock now master. Its looks so big and juicy! Slave wants to pleasure master, wants to suck every drop of cum from master's balls, please!" Anne whimpered. 

Even the sound of the pathetic beseeching voice was degrading. She wasn't just going through the motions, not just obeying an order - she was acting like a sex slave. The implant was reaching further into her mind influencing pathways to reform them, making her think like a sex slave. It wasn't serious over an hour or so but she had been turned on for six hours now. Unless she escaped soon she might be in this state over twenty-four hours, maybe a whole weekend.

Listening to the pleading was electric, he almost cum over its upturned face. He would have if he hadn't cum so recently. This model was far more than an outdated domestic android it was a sex android disguised as a maid. The husband had smuggled it into the house with a false mask. 

A false mask covered what? That was the key! He knew what to do now. "Yes!" he laughed. 

Taking this as permission Anne slurped over the head of his penis. She sucked it in with the suit pushing her head down onto it. She thought she would choke as it hit the back of her throat. It was the masks lips but it was her tongue and mouth and throat that was now sucking strongly on this young mans dick. 

Her head began to bob up and down with a regular motion all the time taking it deeper. Gasping deep breaths whenever possible she gave in to the inevitable. Anne swallowed his cock down to the balls. Somehow the program was helping relax her throat, letting her swallow his cock. To make it bearable she told herself she was just a sex slave and must please her master.

Larry had worked it out. The mask was a key to the mystery but before he could do anything it had sucked his cock into its mouth. The suction was magnificent. The grip of its throat left him gasping but he couldn't cum. It would be an hour or so before he was ready and it was impossible to let it work on him for that long as his cock would be sore as hell. 

"Stop, slave, let it go," he ordered, as firmly as he could. The order was almost rescinded when it looked up at him with such doleful eyes. It was begrudgingly lifting its head slowly up the length of his cock, not wanting to let go.

"Good slave, well done," he told it. It still looked crestfallen that it hadn't satisfied him by sucking all the juice out of his balls. He just couldn't take any more.

Anne was panting from having had to drag every breath from around his cock. It was only a small relief he hadn't spurted into her mouth or down her throat. His cock bounced in her face where she had let it go while acting as though it were the most important thing in her life. 

As an android maid she hadn't thought it could get any worse, but it had. After being softened up, from hours being under the influence of that damn implant, she was very susceptible. More of her behaviour was being driven by the devilish device. Eventually it would be difficult to distinguish between the programs influence and her ideas of how to behave. 

She moved forward and licked the end of his cock to let him know she was waiting.

He had searched the thing all over carefully and found nothing. The connection to the androids main programs and memory must be somewhere under that mask. He cleared his throat to gain its attention. 

"Slave, remove the mask," Larry ordered. 

It had started to show enthusiasm to obey orders, whereas now, he noticed its reluctance. The hands were slowly lifting toward its face, seeming to hold back. There must be some kind of security measure built in by the husband to prevent it being found out by someone in the household. 

"Slave, when completed you can carry on sucking master's cock," he pronounced. This didn't seem to encourage it as a internal conflict carried slowed it down. 

'No! Please, no!' she screamed silently. The hands came up past her eyes of their own free will despite trying hard to prevent them carrying out the order. The implant was intent on making her obey his command. She was no robot with a safeguard to protect itself. She had to do it.

The mask was placed on the floor while trying to hide her face as much as possible with hands and arms in the way. She immediately bent to the task of sucking on his cock, allowing her to look down, away from him. 

As it avoided him seeing her face she went at the horrendous task with even more gusto than before. She let herself go, immersing her thoughts in the role. She needed to be just a sex slave without responsibility for what she was doing; as a sex slave she was doing nothing wrong, merely obeying an order, that's all.

He had been right there was a completely different face behind the mask, a more realistic one. It was more advanced in keeping with this sophisticated model. He needed a closer look to see where the contacts were but it was looking down concentrating on sucking his cock. As much as it was a delight he needed to know if the connection was hidden there. 

"Look up at me, slave" he commanded. With his cock buried in its mouth it looked up at him. He looked at it carefully, seeking a small mark of some sort to indicate where under the skin it was hidden. 

He reached out to it to feel the features then suddenly drew back. His eyes had flicked from the detail to take in the whole face. He thought he recognised it. It couldn't be. It couldn't be Professor Draper on the end of his cock! Her husband must have had her face copied. 

A look of abject misery showed clearly on its face. That wasn't right.

He had to do something. His mind was reeling from the idea. It was making sense despite him not wanting it too. How could he not see what was plainly before him. The body suit was a poor disguise yet he hadn't looked properly since seeing it in the dimly lit garage. Shit, he was in serious trouble. He was in the technology department, nothing to do with Business Studies, but how would that help?

He plucked up courage. "What's your name," he asked, his voice reduced to a whisper. 

This was it, she had been discovered. The struggle played out on his face while coming to terms with this was plain to read. It would have been comical if it wasn't so dreadful. Now it had happened she felt relief more than anything. Still locked into being his sex slave she dutifully continuing to suck on his cock.

"Your slave is named Anne, master," she said, from around the end of his cock. The diction was less than impeccable though understandable. She carried on bobbing her head wishing he would get his head straight and let her free from this despicable act. 

He was stunned still unwilling to accept it. 

"Your full name, slave," he asked. 

"Your slaves name is Professor Anne Draper," she replied clearly although still dutifully sucking and slurping. It was deflating rapidly but there was still enough to hold onto.

"You're not an android then?" he asked. 

"Master's human sex slave," she stated. The statement didn't carry the professor's usual weight of authority for it was delivered in a sing song voice around a mouth full of cock. 

He watched the woman of authority, professor bitch some called her, trying enthusiastically to revive his cock. With hands, lips and tongue she was working on him as though resuscitating a patient in cardiac arrest. It didn't matter how hard she tried it would need a miracle to recover from this revelation. 




Human Android Ch. 02



"Stop it! Stop sucking on your master's cock," he told her. 

She sat back on her haunches with knees spread, hands on them palm up, thrusting her huge breasts at him. He should have guessed. He wasn't a student in the Business Studies department but that made no difference at all. 

He had kidnapped and fucked a professor then turned her into a sex slave. So that's why he couldn't find the androids programs and memory. She was a woman with an implant. If he switched it off now would she create hell and have him expelled, or more likely jailed. She was a stickler for the rules.

There again would she want it known what had happened here? Damn it! She had been hiding in the fucking garage disguised as a stupid android, it wasn't his fault. She must have been playing some sort of game, a sex game. Fuck! That was it. There was nothing but sex programs on the implant.

The dirty slut! Everyone thought she was the ice queen whereas she was a hot kinky slut. No wonder she showed so much enthusiasm on the end of his cock. Being fucked had driven her wild and she was really into playing a sex slave. 

What to do now though? It might come down to his word against hers and it's obvious who would win out. While he had her at this disadvantage he must secure his place at college. 

"Get into the chair, slave," he said, talking to her like a stray bitch. He was pleased to see her respond, although it was more reluctant than before. Perhaps she realised how much trouble was coming her way. 

Larry connected the implant to his computer as before, only he knew what he was looking for this time. He pulled a chair up to the keyboard and started typing. A new game needed developing.



Human Android Ch. 03



Chapter 03

Anne goes back for more

Anne sat at home in a comfortable sofa attempting to compose a message, feeling anything but comfortable. Should she tell her husband what happened over a view-phone or wait until he arrived home from Hong Kong. The terrible guilt meant she needed to face his anger but which would be better for him. 

Every attempt at putting it into words, what happened, how it happened, left her feeling weak, pathetic and guilty. Her husband knew she liked to be controlled so would he believe it had been an accident? It wasn't that young mans fault for he had genuinely thought she was an android. 

He had sex with her, twice! The last time she had sucked him dry. She had become excited and debased herself before him like a pathetic sex slave. He was shocked on finding she was a College Professor and promised not to tell anyone, though it was still worrying it might become a rumor around college, even without the details surfacing it would be dreadful.

She was a respected mature woman with a fearsome reputation on campus and ran her department with a sever strictness. Her reputation would crumble if it were discovered she was playing naughty games, pretending to be an android, in the privacy of her home. Worse still, she might ruin her career if it was known she had played the game with a student.

The priority had to be telling her husband what happened and it couldn't wait until he came home from Hong Kong. Was she taking the easy way out or did he deserve to know as soon as possible? Suffering from a lack of sleep meant it wasn't easy to compose a message. She tried to look steadily into the communications system but every time she started to record the confession a stirring of arousal shocked her into silence. 

"Sleep, I need to sleep then conference him face to face," she sighed.

It was three days since that horrendous day of debauchery and she had tried to contact him only once but not achieved a connection. The house was untidy, food left uneaten and she looked a mess. Sitting in front of a large screen she prepared herself for the worst. He was sure to become angry but that would be a small part of a deserved penitence. 

A flashing light on the console couldn't be ignored, or maybe she was just putting off the dreadful moment of contacting him. Not wanting to get caught up in college business she nevertheless decided to receive it. "Play received massages," she said clearly. It was from her husband! Voice only no image. She put her head in her hands wanting to weep but was out of tears. 

***

"Larry, will you be home for awhile I need to see you, urgently!" Anne spoke quickly and to the point with the usual commanding voice, almost. 

"Yes," he said, not managing another word before she disconnected. 

***

The electronic apartment doors were open for her to bounce into the room in a state of agitation. She looked terrible. She hadn't showered or fixed her hair. He wasn't sure if she ever wore makeup but she certainly wasn't wearing it now. The tarnished professor was still a very desirable and voluptuous woman. 

He tried hard not to think about what they got up to last time she was there. From his point of view he hadn't just done it to her, she had participated with enthusiasm. He had to admit, she had no choice, though he didn't know that at the time.

All that bothered him right then was the important question; had he gotten away with it or would he be thrown out of college.

"Larry!" she said, looking past him, glaring at the gaming chair. 

He didn't know whether to call her Anne or professor so kept quiet.

"I need you to do something for me," she stated firmly. She tried to push past him toward the chair Larry used for gaming. "I want you to invoke the most powerful program on this damn implant then keep it running until the start of semester," she announced. 

The words tumbled from her mouth in an avalanche falling upon him without making sense. "You can't do that, it's dangerous," he said, while trying to catch up with what was going on. "You could damage your memory, other things, I don't know what it will do to you," he said, sounding lame. This was so unexpected he spoke in a daze, trying to figure out what was wrong.

"You owe me, so just do as you are told," she growled at him.

Trying for time he stammered a question feeling very nervous now she had become the bitch professor again. "Which program do you mean?" he asked. How could he do such a thing to a university professor? This was Professor Draper not some stupid reckless student out for a thrill. He was in trouble whatever he did.

"Any, it doesn't matter. So long as it's strong and I don't have to think or make decisions," she told him firmly. 

Seeing his reluctance was leading to a refusal Anne changed tack from stick to carrot. "The slave one, that will do it," she said. It wasn't working, he looked shaken by the proposal so decided to invoke the oldest trick in the book. She decided to excite the young guy, to get him thinking through his penis to override the reluctance. 

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" she asked, now trying to sound feminine and vulnerable. "Your very own sex slave for five weeks, obeying your every command," Anne teased, with her breasts grazing his chest. 

In desperation she gently swung her hips moving her nipples back and forth over his t-shirt. "Would you rather have a compliant cheerleader pandering to your whims? You could try out all sorts of delicious games, all of them if you like," she said, while trying to sound sexy which was wholly uncharacteristic of her.

Anne realized her breathing had become ragged, a sign of arousal, but couldn't stop because she too was thinking about what it would be like. "Think about it Larry, your very own woman bent to your will, enthusiastically pandering to your every whim, unable to resist anything, always grateful to receive your attention," she said, warming to the theme. 

"If you'd prefer your innocent little slave girl could protest. An unwilling woman forced to pander to your darkest fantasies, being enforced to carryout so many dirty perversions, just for you," she breathed into his ear. 

He wound his arms around her waist, lifted and dumped her into the chair. She had always despised the use of feminine charms by women to get what they wanted but she was desperate and it worked. The distasteful words were something she could never have uttered before that fateful day and was still wondering where they came from.

She watched him secure her hands in the gloves of the gaming chair then her feet. A shiver of fear ran through her whole body at the thought of it but she bit her lip to stop a last minute retraction. It had to be done! It was the only way to stop the anguished thoughts constantly churning in her mind.

He quickly secured her to the chair and looked up at her. Balancing his weight on the arms of the chair he leaned close to her face. He didn't know where to start. "Why? Tell me now," he calmly asked, though feeling excited and fearful all rolled into one.

"No! I can't," she wailed. Under his intense stare and the determination on his face she began to relate her husband's message, something she had tried not to think about.

"He'll come back, there's nowhere else to go. He loves you and will get over it just give him time. It wasn't your fault. You'll both get over it, time is a great healer," he said. 

"Huh! I've use that one myself. You just don't understand!" she said, in a heavy tone of voice. 

"I'll try so tell me again," he demanded. 

The combination of being secured and the dominating stance was working on her submissive side, squeezing out the reluctance to think about it let alone talk. 

"He's not coming back. The message wasn't about me it was about him and someone else. He had no intention of returning, he's run away with another woman," she cried. 

The flood of tears had been held back with the thought she didn't deserve to feel sorry for herself. She hadn't had a chance to assuage any of the guilt by telling him what she had done. She knew he wanted someone less bossy, less interfering, more of a home maker, not a college policy maker.

"I tried letting him be the one in charge but couldn't do it, however hard I tried to let go it was me making the decisions. At least with this implant he could be the boss for a little awhile," she said. 

Larry dabbed away the tears with an antistatic cloth. He put his arms around her head with his face touching hers. He tenderly kissed away the remaining tears. She was becoming calm, losing that look of fervor when she stormed into the apartment.

He manipulated the keyboard with hands skimming over the keys. It was much faster than voice commands which could be misinterpreted at this deep level. In such a state of exhaustion and so used to it, she hadn't even noticed the implant become active with his new program loading onto the implant.

"You promise to do as you are told?" he asked. When she nodded and gave him a weak smile he freed her hands and feet. Larry pulled her up from the chair and took hold of a wrist. He guided her into the bedroom.

"You need sleep. I'll cuddle and look after you until you feel able to cope," he told her. He didn't offer a choice, so, as expected under the new program Anne gave in. He slipped her shoes off then the dress, thankful it wasn't complicated with zips and buttons.

On the bed he cradled her in his arms. "Sleep now, think later," he ordered, in a deep calming voice. He kissed her eyelids, stroked her hair, smoothing it away from her face. Her eyes fluttered, closed and she fell fast asleep. Continuing to stroke her hair he found the contact then what felt like a mole to switch off the implant. 

He held her close murmuring sweet words for an hour until he too fell asleep. 

***

Three days ago he downloaded onto his computer the programs from her implant. Intrigued as to how they were written he decided to write his own, using their style, hoping to get a clue on how the security program was constructed. He didn't want to write a gross sex game so instead ended up writing a more romantic one. He didn't have a clue the motivation was from feelings he had for the professor after their sexual encounter.

At the time writing it was just a game and a distraction from thinking about what he had done to the woman. When she walked in feeling so wretched it did come in handy, calming the professor down. As much as he had been tempted to use her as she requested, this was less dangerous and a good test of his programming skills. Had it worked? He may never know for it had been used for only a few minutes.

***

Anne awoke late from a much needed deep sleep. She at last felt rested and able to cope with the world. Larry was there with a makeshift tray, looking as though it were made for carrying electronic parts. The breakfast presented on it stirred her stomach to life. 

"Tea?" he asked.

"Yes please. I've drunk too much coffee over the past three days, lived on it," she said, through a mouthful of toast. She couldn't stop eating. She felt nervous not knowing what to say to this handsome young man after talking to him so lewdly.

"Thank you," she managed to say while going pink with embarrassment. 

"Breakfast is my favorite meal," he smiled. "What's yours?" he asked.

"I guess I've forgotten. Too many hurried snacks between meetings," she smiled back. "I didn't mean just breakfast, thanks for everything you've done," she said with a coy smile. 

"For everything?" he teased, emphasizing the word 'everything'.

"Yes," she began, stopping abruptly on seeing his face, catching the meaning. She was blushing again, highly embarrassed from thinking of that dreadful sex session.

"You're being naughty!" she squirmed, with a mock admonishment, almost upsetting the tray.

The banter went back and forth while they ate, with laughter communicating as much as the words. They learnt a lot about each other which was refreshing as she hadn't taken the time to really talk to anyone in a long time.

The young man was flirting with her, yet she felt the fast patter of her heart as though becoming infatuated with him. It was like a first boyfriend, before she became cynical in the academic world. It had been a time of innocence, of feeling safe and cared for, learning to care for someone else.

When he carried out the tray she quickly lifted the sheet, knowing she still wore underwear but needing to check how old and tatty it was. The smell of her body wafted up reminding her she hadn't showered or changed in a few days. 

She jumped up dashing to the bathroom like an anxious teenager. What would he think of her? She wore no make-up, her hair was a mess and she smelt awful. 

The towel was at least clean but hardly covered her body. She wrapped and pulled it as best she could but there was still a split up the side. He was pulling the sheets off the bed when she stumbled in feeling awkward and self conscious. 

"Err. Could I have my dress please," she asked.

"I've put everything in the wash," he told her. "Grab something from the closet, it won't take long," he added. 

It was true the dress and underwear were well lived in, besides, he'd seen her naked before and was certainly very familiar with her body. She blushed anyway and just stood there awkwardly like an innocent teenager until he left. 

Quickly rummaging through his clothes brought a little thrill from being so close to his personal things. There was no way his jeans would fit so a shirt would have to do. The white formal shirt had a tail that covered her bottom but the front threatened to split apart with every step, even with the lower buttons done up. The top buttons wouldn't fasten at all as her breasts were far too big for it. 

An even greater feeling of intimacy was felt while rummaging through his underwear draw. On finding a white pair of cotton briefs they were quickly pulled on feeling snug and comfortable. They were a tight fit but at least now she could concentrate on keeping her breasts under control.

"Wow! You look gorgeous," he told her, when she walked into the main room. She flushed pink yet again and looked down at the floor as though picking a way over rough ground. It was more of a workshop than a lounge though it was clean, because of the delicate electronics rather than a need for tidiness.

Anne became embarrassed and gripped the shirt tight trying to keep it closed. If it wasn't for a large bust overhanging a slim waist she might have looked demure. 

"Come and sit here, I'll show you some of my work," he said.

An evident enthusiasm to share what was important to him left her feeling eager. Electronics and the workings of computers had always left her cold but she felt interested in what pleased him. She wanted to please him, wanted to share in his youthful enthusiasm.

He was young and alive and it fired her with a fresh energy she hadn't felt in a long time.

"Be careful, I'll take the connector out of the way first," he told her. The connection between the computer and her implant had been left attached to the back of the chair. He parted her hair out of the way and suddenly stopped fiddling. Last night he had gently pressed the switch to manually deactivate the implant. He looked again to realize it wasn't a switch but a genuine mole. The implant may have been active all night and was still insidiously working away at her mind. 

"On second thoughts I'll have a quick look at the implant to see if it can be neutralized. You don't need it now do you?" he asked.

"I guess not," she said. A feeling of unease stirred but was dismissed for she trusted him. It was a curious thought that she also felt a little disappointed at the thought of losing those naughty games.

He examined the analysis of when and what had been activated. It was true the program had been running all night, over twelve hours, setting out the rules of a new game to help her play it. Her mind would have been absorbing the rules, applying them to her way of thinking, influencing how to behave within the confines of the game. 

It was a useful way to learn new rules of behavior, like getting rid of unwanted habits, or becoming aware of an unfamiliar culture when visiting a country for the first time. The effect wasn't permanent if used correctly. 

This behavior pattern had been working on her mind all night while asleep, with little resistance to it. Her mind had probably absorbed this new information like a sponge. 

"You don't have to if it's difficult," she said. There shouldn't be a reluctance to give up the ability of letting someone else control her. It had been an effective release of inhibitions, allowing her to enjoy being very naughty, with the right person of course.

He shut the implant off through the computer and turned around to take a close look at her. Her eyes were big and shining brightly. She gave him a great big pleasurable smile. 

"I trust you not to startup any of those very naughty games," she said, looking at him with an impish grin. 

He only now noticed the change in tone of voice and the way she was looking at him. Professor Draper had a crush on him! More than that, she was behaving like an eighteen year old rather than a mature responsible woman over thirty. That new program had worked upon her though he hadn't intended it to be so effective and deep seated.

Having used the implant so much she had become very vulnerable to it with hardly any resistance to its influence. He knew that from when he accidently turned her into a sex slave. At least then he had the excuse he thought she was just an android. Hell! This was bad. He would have to be careful or be in serious trouble.

"Do you want to play a game?" he asked. 

"If you want to," she said. She looked away from him, hanging her head, looking coy. The rest of her body was less so. She no longer kept the shirt together revealing a stunning cleavage. Sitting in the chair with legs slightly parted revealed swelling lips in the tight panties. 

"What would you like?" he asked. As the bitch professor she wouldn't be even sitting there like that, so how far gone was she. 

"Whatever you like, the choice is yours, Larry. You deserve it. I've been such a nuisance, I just want you to have some fun after being so kind to me," she smiled, with that same demure turn of the head. 

The implant was inactive so he meant to just test her though he could feel the heat in his jeans rising. He looked at her breasts heaving from breathing heavily. Her legs were parting more as they spoke. 

"I trust you to look after me. I'd like to look after you too but I guess I need a little encouragement. You do like me Larry, don't you?" she asked, looking up at him with big sensuous eyes. 

"Yes I do, very much," he said. To his surprise he meant it. 

"All you have to do is say what you want and I'll be yours, Larry," she said, in a whispery voice. 

He realized she thought the implant was still active. It wouldn't really be taking advantage if it was off, he reasoned. It would just be a suggestion that could be refused, if she wanted to. He knew his cock was influencing the decision making but couldn't help it.

"Will you be my sex slave?" he asked. It wasn't even an order and the implant was switched off. He conveniently put to the back of his mind she was smitten with him from that new program he had brainwashed her with. She was an experienced woman used to playing sex games so less inhibited than an adolescent and the professor was worked up and more than willing to play.

The ache in her stomach needed appeasing. There was an ache between her legs that needed fulfilling. She needed her lovely wonderful Larry to want her. She needed him and was determined to get him whatever she had to do.




Human Android Ch. 03



"Oh! Yessss, my love, whatever you want," she panted out the words. She slid to the floor at his feet. "May your slave, please, master," she asked plaintively, with both hands already on his zip.

She turned him around and pushed him into the chair, managing to unzip and pull out his hard cock like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. She licked at his cock, gurgling little sounds of pleasure. 

She assumed it was the influence of the implant, meaning she had the freedom from recriminations to act out this wicked fantasy. Instead it was inactive so she could act without waiting for orders, able to indulge herself. Anne worked on his cock bobbing her head in a steady rhythm with a hard suction gripping it tight. Soon the lovely cock was pulsing ready to cum. Anne frantically pulled the panties to one side and climbed onto the chair astride him. 

The sudden release of pressure on his cock stopped him, enabled him to hold back. She maneuvered her hips and with one hand guided his cock into a desperate pussy. She heavily pushed down on him as he heaved up with strong hips and legs. 

She felt how strong his back was as he thrust up at her pushing deep into a quivering vagina, filling her up with much need cock. Her gorgeous Larry was about to cum. She stopped moving, wanting to feel his magnificent cock spasm inside. It was nudging the entrance to her womb it was so big and so deep. He seemed to be filling her up with sperm. Every movement, every twitch, meant he was ejaculating deep into her body. 

She seemed to be unconscious, breathing deeply with eyes closed. He pulled her to him holding on tight, wanting to protect her, to keep her safe. His cock dribbled from her sated body. She began to slide to the floor and all he could do was slow the movement for they were both slippery; soaked in sweat. 

She gripped his legs and rested her head in his lap. She nuzzled his flaccid cock and began licking it clean then sucked it into her mouth like a comforter. She wanted to just be there with it, feeling she had pleasured her magnificent man. 

Larry looked down at her wondering what to do. She was totally smitten with him and would be until the effect wore off. It was a big responsibility having this power over her and dangerous too. He hoped it would wear off before the start of college in five weeks time. Well, he had given her something to think about just as she wanted after all.

***

Anne couldn't wait for the cleaner. She cleaned the house from top to bottom with her mind on something else, something far dirtier. All day she had been thinking of her naughty behavior with Larry. Anne couldn't help herself conjuring the image of them together with arms wrapped around each other holding on tight comforting each other. Other more salubrious images came to mind too. 

Everything she did had some tenuous connection with him, reminding her yet again of that wonderful young man. In the back of the wardrobe she found a Maid's outfit and wondered if he would like her to wear it next time she visited. A thought had been struggling to surface and right then it popped into her head. 

She wondered if he had invoked a game for her to play. It was certainly a nice distraction from the terrible loss she had been feeling when her husband just messaged her he had left, abandoning her and their daughter. She had wanted to lose herself in a fantasy world and demanded Larry must help her. Now she was wandering around like a love sick puppy. 

A wave of emotion loomed up then swamped her thoughts. Larry was a kind and generous young man. He said he would look after her and he had said he loved her. Her heart skipped, thumping in her chest and she twirled around the dressing room singing some silly tune till her head spun. 

If he had done something to her, as much as it was a delight playing his game, she needed to start thinking logically. Gritting her teeth she put the naughty maids outfit back and pulled out the usual dark blue business suit. The skirt was comfortably below the knee and the jacket helped hide her ample bosom. The white shirt reminded her of Larry's formal dress shirt she wore yesterday. Shaking the image out of her head she inspected the one before her. 

Underneath the skirt she wore stockings but no-one need know that, it left her feeling confident; she was a stuffy businesswoman yet still sexy and desirable underneath. The tough reputation gained on campus was going to be needed for this difficult situation. She was determined to tell him this was the end of it and make him promise not to tell.



Human Android Ch. 04



Professor Draper walked into Larry's apartment with a completely different attitude to last time. She was more her old self, assured and defiant, ready to inform him this must stop. He wasn't in the room waiting for her as expected. 

She looked around examining the room seeing it in a different light. The focus of the whole space concentrated on the computer table loaded with equipment and that ominous chair a focal point. 

This is where he worked and experimented and played games. He was a typical nerdy student concentrating on what interested him, still young enough to ignore the responsibilities of life.

He had made her into a game for him to play with, taking over her body, flooding her mind with pleasure. He brought a youthful passion to the game and she had thankfully felt it, enjoyed it. Even now she could feel his vibrancy and sincerity, knowing it would be missed. It was difficult accepting the loss of her husband and Larry had for a short while helped with those dreadful feelings.

Now she was feeling them over him but of course there was little history and it had been induced rather than grown over years. She would cope for wasn't she known as the bitch professor on campus? 

Emotional appeals didn't work with her as students found and regretted, over late essays or failed exams. Second chances only came from logical plans of action not emotive appeals for clemency.

He walked in seeing Professor Draper with hands on hips scanning the room as though looking for a mistake and knew not to call her Anne. He sheepishly brought a bunch of flowers from behind his back pushing them at her so she had to accept them. Not very elegantly presented but then she hadn't accepted them with courteously either.

"I'm sorry, didn't want to cause you harm or upset you. I promise not to tell anyone anything. Don't ask me to forget though. This has been a most wonderful time, getting to know you," he crawled to a stop, wondering how to explain what he felt yet not knowing what it was.

"You know it was madness and has to stop!" she firmly told him. She watched him nod his head with a sad look across his face and in his eyes. A young man having such an opportunity might crow about it to friends but she knew he meant it. She knew enough about this young man to feel he was sincere.

"You look nice. You've got yourself together, I'm pleased. You look like the, err, professor again," he commented.

"Just clothes, underneath I'm, I'm," she was about to say she was the same woman underneath but something else spilled out. "I'm wearing stockings," she said. Embarrassed over this mad outburst she moved across the room to stand away from him with hands gripping the back of an old sofa. 

The persona of Professor Draper had walked in but was fading so she had to take a moment to bring her thoughts under control. Was Anne any better or worse than that harridan? Wasn't she entitled to have a moment of madness between semesters?

She collapsed over the back of the sofa as though fainting away from an assault on her senses. Not saying a word she pulled up the back of the skirt wiggling her bottom as it slipped up her legs. 

"This is all wrong, I mustn't do this," she murmured to herself.

Larry watched her shapely legs revealed up to thin thighs, seeing for the first time stocking tops and suspenders gripping them tight. The sensible business skirt was finally hiked up around her hips. He could see now why a woman would wear these old fashioned contraptions. 

Her cute shapely ass was presented to him framed delicately by the lace of the suspender belt and scroll work of stocking tops. The black contrasted with white soft thighs that seemed to beg to be stroked and caressed. The black panties stretched over a curved bottom, were slightly see-through and all the more tantalizing just for being there. 

The only thing that moved was his eyes, roving over her rear and his cock pushing at his jeans. He was mesmerized by the beauty of this woman that had created a work of art with her body. He could not move, could not speak, unable to break the enchantment.

She looked back over her shoulder and smiled. "Please," she said. Her voice broke under a rising passion making speech difficult. "I've been a naughty girl, my lover, spank me," she croaked from a dry throat. Her eyes alone pleaded for attention with a crotch, bottom, and thighs exposed for his lust filled eyes. 

She pushed out her gorgeous ass toward him inviting a naughty act. Maybe she was still under the influence of the program, still infatuated with him from being brainwashed but she didn't care. At that moment neither did he.

From nowhere came an aggression firing his mood. He may have been angry with her for dumping him or teasing him, tying his emotions in knots. He ripped the panties down from the soft cheeks and slapped them hard. 

"You are a bitch! You're a tease," he shouted, but had nothing else to say. It was time for a different action. He pulled her legs apart, knocked at a shoe with his foot separating the legs more. Pushing her head down with one hand he bent her right over the sofa then ripped the front of his jeans down with the free hand.

His cock was rock hard throbbing in anticipation of the warm tight tunnel it needed to burrow into. 

Anne tried to turn her head to him, to apologize, feeling sorry that she had strung him along, hadn't meant to and shouldn't even be here at all. 

Larry thrust forward urgently needing to enter the enticing hole, being driven with animal lust. Both hands gripped her hips as he entered the tight tunnel. She tried to rise up, trying to say something. He slapped her ass making her slump over the sofa, defeated from a last attempt at escape.

Over her shoulder she tried to tell him to let her go. She was a college professor, someone to be respected not a thing to be bent over a sofa and roughly fucked. She was a woman with a need and instead told him. "Fuck me, fuck me harder, punish my teasing cunt, push harder," she choked, as though he had buried himself so deep in her throat.

"Punish your teasing bitch," she cried out with every slap of her ass while he rode her hard.

He only half heard the plea, yet the tone of voice spurred him on to fuck her roughly, penetrating as deep as he could, as hard as his strong legs could push. He thrust deep into her body wanting to bury him-self there while spurting beads of sperm, feeling her muscles spasm too.

She fell over into the sofa where eventually he joined her. He wrapped his arms around her brushing her sweat soaked hair out of her eyes. They stared at each other intensely. 

"Fuck!" he exclaimed quietly.

"Fuck!" she exclaimed back in a whisper. 

"You punished your bitch good," she added. She wasn't trying to sound like a young student but was breathing heavily so the sentences came out in shorthand.

"Not enough! The teasing bitch needs punishing again," he said. "Are you my bitch?" he asked. 

She looked coy and embarrassed then swallowed, trying to regain the determination of before, only it was twisted the other way. "Yes! I'm your bitch. Whatever you want my love. I'm your devoted little bitch, always ready for you, your naughty little bitch," she said, with absolute sincerity.

***

At home Anne was waiting for her daughter to turn up. Each time they had talked about her father she had clammed up, unwilling to share feelings; like most adolescents she couldn't talk to a parent. Before Anne took this next step they would have to talk it through. Anne had at least that much control over her actions.

Every day during the week she visited Larry and lost control to become a love struck schoolgirl in his presence. Since losing her husband, to some bitch, she needed him or at least that's how she justified letting go so completely with the young man. 

After the first time playing a mischievous game, being his sex slave, she realized it was her need to be dominated not his demands upon her that kept her returning to his apartment. He played his part though, and they both enjoyed it immensely. She would do anything to keep his attention and was planning to improve upon the arrangement. Visiting him was sure to be noticed eventually and she needed him to be closer, within reach.

At last Rebecca arrived home for the confrontation to begin. "Hi, where have you been? It's OK. Don't answer that, it's your business. Come and sit down we need to talk," Anne said.

"Nothing and I'm in a hurry, I'm going shopping," Rebecca replied. She stopped on her way out of the room to hover in the doorway. "By the way I need my allowance," she added.

Anne patted the sofa meaning for her to sit. Rebecca looked as though she was willing to suffer the pain of interrogation for the necessary credits. She dragged her feet across the lounge and sat down.

"Have you been OK?" Anne asked. Rebecca hung her head looking sorrowful now. She put her arm round her daughter, feeling guilty for not doing so since telling her about her father. There had been shouting and tears but they had both felt abandoned and eventually made-up as friends in adversity. 

"I'll increase your allowance, it could be doubled I think. What are you shopping for?" Anne asked.

Her face brightened at the prospect though the underlying expression still held a shadow of sadness. "Clothes and I need something for a party," Rebecca explained. It was a mistake to mention the party but it was out now.

"That's good! I could do with a party myself, though I don't feel ready to face people yet," Anne said. Rebecca's arms enfolded her for a mutual hug. It was nice having a daughter sometimes.

"Come shopping too, we could make a day of it," Rebecca smiled, with tears in the corners of her eyes.

"OK! Yes, sounds good, why not. It'll get me out of this house for awhile," Anne announced. 

"You better change, in case someone sees me with you like that," Rebecca laughed, teasing her mother. 

"I'm not used to dressing up like this, do I look alright?" Anne asked. Rebecca had made her up and selected the clothes, attempting to get her into something at least half-way modern.

"You look great, it's about time you got out of those stuffy business suits," Rebecca teased her. 

They caught a half empty university transport vehicle into the city centre which was un-crowded as people were only just getting used to shopping on foot. The two of them chatted while Rebecca gave her a guided tour of the mall.

"By the way how is that young man of yours? Treating you alright is he?" she asked. 

"Apart from trying it on all the time, yes. I have him under control," she replied, indicating that was the end of that conversation.

"I don't see why we have to walk. We could have ordered clothes on the computer," Anne said, diplomatically changing the subject.

"Don't be old fashioned, everyone uses the new mall now," Rebecca rebuked her mother. 

Anne was about to tell her it was nothing new for they had stores in her grandmother's time but kept her mouth firmly closed. This was no time for a business studies lecture. 

***

Rebecca guided her mother to a favorite store. The walking manikins modeling outfits at first shook her. It was a nasty reminder of that first day with Larry, though the shock soon turned to a naughty thrill. "I see what you mean, it's great, I'm not sure I could wear any of these," Anne commented. 

"Nonsense, you need a new look," her daughter insisted.

For a bit of fun Rebecca ordered a light summer dress for her mother which was duly delivered in exactly the right size to the changing room. The computer accessed their sizes from a main database when stating their names. 

"I can't wear this, it's hardly covering me," Anne complained. The light dress swirled well above the knees with too much cleavage on show. It wasn't anything too outrageous compared with what the students wore but she just wasn't used to showing off so much flesh. 

"You need to throw out all those old business suits and get with it mother," Rebecca scolded her, enjoying telling her mother what to do for a change. It had been a surprise to find her willing to try something on though the young fashions seemed to enthrall her.

Anne twirled around with the hem rising tantalizingly. She imagined what Larry might say, just hoping he would like the new image. 

"Hi Rebecca, how's things," an assistant asked. "Who's your friend?" she added.

"Hi Susan, mom," she said, nodding at Anne.

Susan looked surprised. "Professor Draper? I didn't recognize you. Wow! You look so different, ten years younger. I thought you were friends out shopping," she laughed. 

"Thanks, great sales patter," Anne countered, joining in the laugher. "So good I'll take it," she smiled.

Rebecca couldn't believe her mother was actually going to buy the dress. The surprise showed on her face. 

"Don't you like it?" Anne asked. 

"Yea, it's great," Rebecca quickly nodded approval.

"Do you need shoes and accessories?" Susan asked.

"I guess so, why not treat myself, you did suggest it Rebecca. You too, on me, not out of your allowance," Anne announced. 

She was in spending mood and there was no telling when that might happen again so Rebecca meant to take full advantage. They shopped in the same store with Susan making helpful suggestions, nicely increasing her commission.

Another outfit was decided upon and Anne lifted the dress to show off suspenders and stockings. 

"You're not going to wear those, are you?" Rebecca giggled. 

"Men like them, you'll learn. Perhaps you might get a set to please your young man?" Anne suggested, trying to tease out some information. 

"Mom!" she giggled, with a hand to her mouth."So who's going to see them?" she asked, trying to sound innocent, with a raised eyebrow indicating a ribbing.

"No one, but it will make me feel good," she lied. Larry was definitely in line for another surprise. 

"They're all the rage at the moment, a must have with a dress like that. Besides, they're practical and healthier than a body stocking," Susan stated, trying to encourage Rebecca.

"Maybe, OK! I give in," she said, when they pressed her.

The two women walked out wearing new outfits leaving everything else to be delivered. They walked into Rebecca's favorite coffee shop where the buzz of conversation stopped while the two women sought a table. 

Rebecca was used to her mom's figure but the men there weren't. Even the women stared, though not with the same thoughts dominating their minds. Anne was so used to the reaction it was tuned out. 

Unused to such a short dress Anne chatted away with Rebecca unaware the hem had raised up showing off stocking tops. Rebecca couldn't see under the table either but a couple of guys were watching, trying not to be obvious. 

Every time Anne bent forward she showed off a deep cleavage encouraging the guys to stare. "That's Professor Draper," one of them said, digging his friend in the ribs. "It is! I recognize that rack anywhere and that's her daughter," he added. 

They both looked away when Rebecca looked for a waitress. Catching the obvious move she smirked thinking they had been looking at her. 'No way,' she thought. 

Each time she meant to bring up the subject of Larry with her daughter the opportunity slid by. When they got home Anne delayed her in the kitchen intending to make a last stand.

"Not another coffee, I'm going over to Vern's to get my outfit for the party," Rebecca said. "It's fancy dress and the outfit is at his apartment," she added, when asked why she wasn't changing there. 

"So you're not wearing one of the outfits you bought today," Anne said. "Where is it?"

"One of those big old houses just off campus, among the trees, nice place," Rebecca answered. 

Anne bit her lip not daring to say the 'No' word. The reputation for that place was bad but probably no worse than in her day and she always thought she was safe wherever she ended up. However it was at Rebecca's age she became pregnant leaving her parents to look after the baby so she could complete a degree. 

Before she could talk to her Rebecca was off to that dangerous young man. Anne wanted to stop her but the young thing was willful just like she had been at that age. If only she could be there to check up on her and steer her away from trouble like a guardian angel. 

There was probably no need but a fancy dress party might provide a cover. She could spy out the place for the committee. As much as she needed to see Larry the idea of having fun spying on her daughter gathered momentum. A message was sent to Larry telling him she might be late after shopping with Rebecca.

Upstairs the maid costume was rejected and a slave girl one was far too revealing. The excitement of going to a party was boosting her morale until she felt young and excited at the prospect. The android suit was dragged out from the back of the closet where it had been roughly thrown. 

With that underneath she would feel safe and decently covered. She wouldn't switch it on just wear it like a body-stocking, just as the young people wore them under slinky outfits. It would be even better for it covered her from head to foot. She could also wear the mask as a disguise. 

Wearing a light coat she walked up the driveway from the auto-bus with a light tingling feeling from wearing such a naughty outfit and the idea of being incognito too. This time she would be in control though no-one knew who she was so a certain freedom came with that thought.

It looked like just a typical party with everyone sitting around listening to music or out in the kitchen sipping from cans of beer. The bad reputation, as usual, had been exaggerated. It was a little disappointing. If the beer was replaced by glasses of wine it could have been a boring faculty get-together. 

She even heard a couple of students arguing over politics. In her day they didn't have beer cans, it was sucked from re-cycled soft plastic sachets. It seemed everything was changing with ideas from the distant past catching on. 

"Hi there, want a beer?" a big guy asked. 

"Sure!" Anne answered. She looked at it wondering how to open the damn thing. 

"Here let me," he said and pushed at the top for it to pop open. 

Before he could hit on her she smiled and moved on. The mask was a soft rubber, designed to fit her features firmly sticking close. It was flexible enough to show expressions but was still an effective disguise. She laughed when thinking how shocked these guys would be if they knew Professor Draper was drinking beer with them.

The guy, Bob, looked her over with an appraising stare. The little French maid outfit floated around the thighs in such an enticing way he couldn't take his eyes off it. She was obviously wearing something underneath but that was just a thin nylon thing.  

The large breasts in the outfit had to be false but the image was so very sexy he wanted a piece of it. If he heed been a philosophy student rather than a dumb sports guy he might have thought of a witty line before she escaped. Still, the night was young and he was patient and knew all about strategies for winning. 

"Hey! You guys take your eyes off, she's mine!" he told his buddies. 

"No harm in looking, Bob," they laughed. 

He thought they were laughing at him which drove the determination deeper. He was big, strong and handsome, a winning combination. Whoever she was he was having her tonight.

Anne had a couple of beers while milling around among them, watched a couple petting on a sofa, thinking of Larry, waiting for her daughter to turn up. At last she walked in with that boy. He looked older than eighteen but then so did she. They were two characters from some science fiction movie though what it was she didn't know.

It seemed a favorite record was playing for Rebecca dragged him from his route to the kitchen onto the dance floor. Perhaps she did have him under control after all. Ann felt out of place standing there alone. 




Human Android Ch. 04



The big hulk of a football player tapped her on the shoulder and she turned around to dance with him, whether he wanted to or not. He turned out to be more nibble than he looked. A couple of fast numbers, blasts from the past came on that even she recognized, had them breathing hard.

He ignored her request to sit the next one out and just grabbed a hand pulling her into a jive. Not knowing how to she was thrown around like a rag doll. The little dress flew around her hips showing off the little white panties with her only saving grace being the android suit underneath everything. 

The garter belt on one of the stockings was falling around an ankle but it was her head that was in a spin. At last the number ended to be replaced by a slow dance and he held her tight moving from foot to foot on the small dance floor. 

She was at least close to her daughter though it was Anne in trouble. Trapped in a tight grip he began to smooch her. Thinking of Larry she unintentionally kissed him back, deeply. Annoyed at this bad move she tried to pull away. 

He put a big beefy hand around the back of her head pulling her in for another long breathtaking kiss. Breathing hard she felt his lips working around her neck to an ear.

"You're a sexy slut, girl, you're a real slut," Bob said.

Anne heard him say she was a slut for just kissing him back with a tongue in his mouth and wanted to laugh. He was calling Professor Draper a slut and even this big brute would quake in his boots on finding out that he was mauling the 'bitch professor'. 

She let his hands wander over her body with amusement until realizing he wasn't as inexperienced as he looked. Those magnificent breasts looked unreal, therefore fair game to fondle in jest, but, they were all hers. She felt his strong hands grip them and pinch the nipples producing an unwanted reaction. 

She shouldn't let this young man get away with it even though she was pretending they were just a part of the costume. Instead she was responding to him, looking at him with a gleam in her eyes, rubbing her belly against his pelvis. 

Those two beers were too much and combining them with the excitement of being surrounded by young males she had become carried away.

She had better stop this nonsense right away. She recognized the boy he was nineteen and a promising football player. She was a responsible woman not some unfortunate, inebriated party girl, flattered by the attention of a college football star. 

Instead of pulling away she pressed herself against him, rubbing her breasts against his chest. Sobering up in alarm she tried to think why she was behaving this way. The memory of that moment he pulled her head forward with a hand around it, covering the whole back of her head, hit her hard. 

The dumb shit had accidently switched on the damn implant! Shit! So why wasn't she acting like a maid; the default maid program should have kicked in. His words reverberated around in her head as though it were hollow. Slut! He had called her a slut! A damn slut! Silently she cried out, 'No! No! No!'

He had un-intentionally triggered the slut program! It was all the fault of that damn kiss. The shitty word, slut, was simply a ploy to see how she reacted. An eighteen year old girl would have slapped his face and walked away, unless she was drunk and impressed enough to want to be seen with a popular football player. 

This dumb guy now thought she was up for it! She couldn't help rubbing her body against him like the slut he made her become. She could see it written over his handsome features that he thought this another easy conquest. 

Little did he know he had turned a fierce college professor into an obedient little slut! She knew this game well and inwardly groaned knowing how improper she would react to even the slightest rude suggestion. 

It was obvious the big brute wouldn't reject an easy lay for he probably went for quantity rather than quality. It was imperative to escape him and Anne looked across at her daughter with eyes behind the mask begging for help. Of course no-one knew who she was or cared how she was, so it was down to her.

She would have to make an excuse, needing the bathroom came to mind. In there she could reach up to her neck and manually switch off the implant after which a quick exit was called for. Despite being there for her daughter it was she who was in desperate trouble. 

"Who are you?" Bob asked, between dances. 

For a moment she froze in horror from the idea of revealing who she was. Instead the program took over to give a standard response. "I'm your slut, sir, ready for you're pleasure," Anne replied, looking up at him with an expression mimicking a silly little slut.

All he did was nod at her with a knowing smile. As terrible as the words were, she breathed a sigh of relief. It looked like a sexy whimper for she was pouting her lips at him. Her body was hot from dancing, the close proximity of young bodies and the arousal of a slut on heat.

She couldn't wait, her hand rose up toward the back of the neck to switch off the implant in a desperate bid for freedom. He grabbed the wrist pulling her from the room. He high fived a couple of buddies on the way up the stairs. Professor Draper was about to become a trophy fuck. Nothing important just another notch on this guys belt. 

It was maddening to know what was to happen yet she ran up the stairs with him, giggling like a silly little airhead. There was no chance to talk to him or make excuses to escape as he pushed open a door and pushed her in to land on a bed. He knew some would think twice once confronted with a bed and cry-off, leaving him frustrated so he gave them no chance to sober up or complain. 

"Spread you legs girl, I'm making use of my slut," Bob leered. 

The slut maid lifted her hips to pull off the panties which caught around the same ankle as the garter. She cursed the silly little sounds of pleasure she made between the inane words; not that he was listening. 

He bounced onto the bed with his weight pressing her into the mattress leaving no possibility of escape. Without a thought she parted the bodysuit seam at the crotch, leaving her open to his attack. 

He pulled back with powerful legs like a seesaw with the inevitable forward plunge. His cock pierced her carrying on as though meaning to go right through her vagina into her womb. 

The strong hips heaved his cock like a battering ram at the gates except she was open and so on it came, full tilt, powerfully driven up inside her. Anne yelled letting out all the air in her lungs as though his cock had crushed them. The look of pain on the mask was a sex face, a version of a distorted fuck face. 

The intended scream wound up being a loud moan of pleasure. "Fuck me, fuck your slut, sir," she cried out. "Oh! Shit! Fuck the slut, fuck the fucking slut hard," she cried out again and again. 

On feeling the trembling legs coupled with the groan of an orgasm she knew that at last she too could cum. A tiny part of her mind cursed him for so wretchedly using her and the indignity of having to wait for him adding to the shame. The slut's reaction was to squeak out its pleasure. 

"I've cum, Oh! I've cum so good!" she cooed, in that terrible little girly voice. 

Her stomach was trembling, sending out little trickles of pleasurable sensations, for she had genuinely cum. It was a small insignificant orgasm and as a slut she was building up ready to be used again. 

"I live to cum, you big bear of a man, use me again, make me cum again, I need it," she moaned to him. 

He was sitting on the edge of the bed to light a cigarette then blew smoke in her face. She wanted to scream at him she was a college professor not some dumb girl he had fucked and would soon forget. 

A friend came in trailing a girl behind him, her fancy dress unimaginatively that of a cheerleader. "Are you finished?" Jim asked. 

"Go ahead, help yourself," Bob told him, meaning the bed, or maybe the slut maid, he didn't care. 

"I'm not doing it with an audience," the girl announced, the accent revealing she was just a local girl invited to the party from town. Anne recognized her as the young nineteen year old waitress from the café they visited that afternoon.

This was the real thing, a dumb slut wanting a good time with college guys. Was this how they saw her, Anne wondered and cringed at the thought.

"Here, clean me up first," Bob told her. Perched on the end of bed Anne licked his cock clean with the other two watching. The humiliation of it was bad enough but she went at it as though enjoying his cock, with the slut program pushing her deeper into debauchery. 

"She's a real slut that one," Jim commented about the slut maid.

"Now him," Bob said, having had enough. His cock was refreshed and he was looking at the girl his friend had dragged in, having lost interest in the slut maid. "So, what's your name, sweet thing," he asked.

She was looking at his big cock standing at attention before him, with an impressed expression on her face. "Julie," she answered and giggled. 

The look she gave him was enough to tell him he had another conquest ready to notch up on his belt. He put his arms around her for a bear hug and kissed her passionately. He could make it last this time and was in no hurry to fuck this one. She was cute and less eager so more enticing, more of a challenge. 

He lowered her to the floor. He could taste the beer on her tongue and knew from experience it was the booze rather than his reputation and size that was making her so easy. 

"Bring her over here," Bob told is friend. 

After being sucked so well Jim was eager to fuck but knew exactly what his friend had in mind so relented. He pulled Anne off the bed onto the floor. 

Julie thought the two guys were going for a double fuck, meaning they would be competitive and so she would be well ridden. 

Instead Bob pulled Anne over onto the stupid bitch. 

"Hey! What you doing," she managed to complain.

Bob and Jim pulled her legs apart and Bob pushed Anne's face into her crotch. 

Anne was petrified but slurped at the girl's pussy. She bit and pulled with her teeth at the soft lips while pushing her tongue in as deep as she could. The girl was already horny and ready for a cock. Anne had no experience at all but fought the writhing pussy, doing to it what she wanted to be done to her own aching hole.

She sucked hard on the soaking wet lips; the girl was now unresisting from the relentless biting and sucking and delving. The complaints were replaced with groans from lust and she was pushing her pelvis up into Anne's face. 

Bob pushed her to the side, settling over the girl and pushed in slowly. Jim held onto Anne's hips to guide his cock into her. He didn't have to search for she found him and pushed back. He began a steady rhythm thrusting in then slowly drawing back.

Anne moaned from the indignity as well as the lust in her loins firing her whole body. These young people were using her like a sex toy but there was nothing she could do about except to cower inside, feeling she was building to a powerfully orgasm this time.

One after another they cum. The girl first, inspiring Jim with her loud yells. The slut maid knew she was being filled yet again with young virile sperm, imagined it swimming deep up inside. Her body shook on the end of his cock.

Bob spurted a little and rolled off the girl who was grateful not to be crushed against the hard floor. She was miffed at not having had the decency of a soft bed but nevertheless enjoyed the orgasm. 

She didn't think about being merely a second fuck for the big guy, thinking instead about the slut who had worked her up. This was something new for her and wondered why she enjoyed it so much.

Bob grabbed Anne's hand and wiped it over his cock. "Clean me up slut," he told her.

She leant over his cock and sucked it into her mouth. Once finished with she was pushed onto Jim. Not needing to be told she sucked on his deflated member sucking and licking with forced fervor.

The two guys pushed her between the girl's legs and this time Anne managed a slight groan of agony. The girl opened up in anticipation after having been driven to a wonderful pleasure zone before. She needed to know why, but more than that she needed to feel that all consuming pleasure rising up her back into her mind. 

Julie began to writhe on the floor with a powerful lust overtaking her mind and body. 

Anne knew she would carry on until ordered to stop. She wasn't gaining pleasure from this but the slut couldn't stop and she couldn't control the slut program. The girl's whole body was quaking and the sweat dripped from her. She shook her head from side to side shouting something. 

Anne couldn't hear for her ears were clamped by the girl's thighs. She was bucking up violently on Anne's face rubbing her nose and mouth. Anne felt her orgasm especially when the girl squirted up her nose. 

With the girl supine on the floor, legs akimbo, arms heavily dropped beside her, Anne slurped up her juices. The taste of Bob's cum was there too. These young animals had used her as nothing more than a cum bucket. Her vagina was swimming with sperm and her stomach was full of their orgasmic juices. 

Her mouth ached and her tongue felt as though it had been on a medieval rack. Her nose was full of their genital stink. At last she was allowed to slump onto the floor where she collapsed in utter degradation.

It was hard to accept her career had slumped to this squalid state. She was a forced slut in the hands of debauched callous youths. There was nothing she could refuse however nasty and what was worse she would perform with enthusiasm. None of this was envisioned while playing naughty games in the privacy of her bedroom.

A nasty thought began to climb unbidden into her mind. What if they decided to keep her as a sonority fuck slave? If invited to the sports house she wouldn't refuse but enthusiastically agree. Would they even give her a choice? 

She had been warned about leaving the pitiless implant active for hours at a time as it would affect her memory and her very being. It wouldn't take long for the damn slut program to invade her mind, setting the rules of behavior, taking it over. Spending the rest of her life pandering to those ignorant, selfish pricks, as a fuck slut would destroy her. 

"Hey Jim, get up guy. Go get the others up here for a free fuck," Bob told his friend. 

The girl stirred, her arm grazing Anne's but she didn't get up, she just moaned fitfully from the after shocks of a powerfully deep orgasm. Anne's thoughts groaned with her without making a sound. 



Human Android Ch. 05



Ch. 05

Anne faces a dire future as an android

Anne lay stretched out on the floor of a bedroom, as she had been ordered to. She had gone to a party there to keep an eye on her daughter, in case she got into trouble, only she was the one who ended up in this dirty room in the sports sonority house. Bob had invited friends up here for a free fuck, and she was the intended victim. 

The implant in her head had been inadvertently triggered by Bob who had no idea what he had done to her. He just thought she was a dumb slut, wanting to get off with a football hunk. He whispered in here ear that she was a slut, thinking she would either slap him or go along with it. The keyword triggered the slut program, making her perform with the morality of a slut. 

The combination of the implant and program was overpowering leaving her helplessly waiting for orders, like a damn sex android.

Anne was wearing a mask, so at least they wouldn't recognise her as a college professor. She ruled the Business Studies department with a strict adherence to the rules, consequently being known as the bitch professor. If they knew who they had at their mercy it would be devastating, even so it was excruciatingly painful. 

Two of them had already used her body, and more were on their way. The slut program made it all the more infuriating, for she was compelled to act like a wanton hussy, pandering to their whims with enthusiasm. It was because of this, she had licked the girl, laying next to her, into a state of utter bliss. She just lay there recovering from a powerful orgasm.

The sexy maid costume she wore over the android suit looked as though it had false breasts inserted, because they were so large, but they were her own. The partying students had laughed at them, which was embarrassing enough. Since the program had been invoked there was nothing she could do to avoid them being played with, which was humiliating. 

Bob had a strong grip of her hand, leading her through the party. One of the guys tweaked her nipples as they passed which started others taking advantage. He stopped among his buddies offering her breasts to them for a play. Through the thin nylon bodysuit she felt their hands squeezing and fondling them. She wanted to keep her eyes closed but the slut program kept her actively offering them and flirting with the drunken youths. 

She wasn't thinking about her breasts, or even how many young students were on their way to fuck her. Something far worse than that was concentrating her mind on a terrifying thought. Being used by a bunch of drunken students would be a disgusting and degrading act, but what was going through her mind was far more potent.

It was anxiety over what was to become of her afterwards. That big louse was sure to keep her there, where she would be trapped under the influence of the slut program. The dreadful program was even now invading her mind, influencing her thoughts and behaviour, helping her to play at being a slut more convincingly. 

In their sonority house, she would be at the mercy of those young sportsmen, until they decided to let her go. The longer she was there, the more effective a slut she would become, until the slut state became a dominant part of her identity. Would they ever let go of an enthusiastic sexy slut? She could see a life ahead of her, pandering to these young selfish men, willing to perform anything to please them. She would be passed on, year upon year, like a mascot, to each incoming group of students.

Eventually the implant running the slut program would damage her memory and dominate her mind. Her personality and social mores would be damaged for ever if she were to be trapped under its dreadful influence for too long. She would be condemned to being a compliant, dumb slut, for the rest of her life. 

Instead of running for her life, all she could do was lay there, waiting to be used and abused by his buddies.

She closed her eyes on hearing the door open. Her mind swung back to the present. How many young students were down stairs at the party, and how many of them were drunk enough, to come up here for a free fuck. Surely most of them would be too decent, or too disgusted, to take advantage.

"What are you up to Bob?" Rebecca demanded.

Anne opened her eyes to see her daughter standing in the doorway, looking angry and defiant. Inside Anne screamed for her to just go. To be discovered by her daughter like this was so mortifying she forgot about everything else. Cum was seeping from between her legs and she was bathed in the overpowering smell of sex. All she could do was hope the mask wasn't lifted from her face. 

"Come on in, join the fun, you might learn something," Bob told her. 

"I heard what you're planning and I'm here to stop you. You're an animal. You can't abuse women this way. You haven't learnt to behave like a man you're just a big shit! " she angrily lectured him.

"You've always been a stuck up bitch, like your mother," he told her, with a grin on his face. He reached out to take a hold of her wrist with a big meaty hand.

Anne looked up at the bastard. He had grabbed her daughter, ready to drag her into this den of inequity. She tried but couldn't move for she had been ordered to lay still, to wait for his so called friends. The brute was too strong for her daughter to break free, so would she too be overwhelmed, like this girl next to her? 

No, surely not that! If they ordered her to suck on her daughter's pussy, she would. Like that poor girl, she would lick and suck and probe until her daughter couldn't resist any more. Would she orgasm so deeply it left her weak and helpless like the girl? The guys invited up here would then have the three of them to fuck.

Anne wanted to scream at them. The thought they might end up as a mother and daughter show, for these drunken louts, was mortifying. After what she had done to that poor waitress lying next to her she knew how expertly she would suck her daughter's pussy. The slut program rules would have her working on Rebecca, with enthusiasm, until her daughter had an overwhelming orgasm. 

After the sickening show they would be on the floor next to each other, ready to be fucked by a bunch of drunken youths. How many would there be, taking it in turns to use them, reducing mother and daughter to contemptible cum buckets. 

"We'll have to teach you how to behave," he began, only to suddenly run out of steam.

"Hi Bob," Vernon said. "You were saying?" he asked.

"Nothing, nothing at all Vern," Bob sheepishly said. "Didn't know you were hooked up with, her," he said, trying not to sound derisory. 

Bob looked away not feeling so sure of what to do. This guy had powerful connections that could hurt, badly. There was little crime in this day and age, but what was left, was controlled by his uncle. 

"What do you want to do?" Vernon asked Rebecca. 

"This has got to stop right now. You two are free to go," Rebecca said, with a hard sounding voice, pointing at Anne and the girl. "Get them out of here Vern," she simply stated. 

This was the cue for Anne to lift her hand to the back of her head. The guys shuffled around wondering what to do next. She was free, so her hand continued, until with great relief, she switched off the implant. 

Vernon crossed his arms looking amused at the scene of an orgy. "Help them up Bob, that's the least you can do," Vernon said. He spoke quietly, with a menace in his voice that even Bob picked up on. 

The large football player easily pulled the two women to their feet, by grabbing on an arm. He shoved them in the back, so they stumbled to the door. 

Anne bumped into her daughter, face to face with her. She had lost her panties and cum was running down her legs. The mask had been rubbed with the girl's pussy juices, mixed with Bob's cum. She still had the strong smell of sex juices in her nose. There was no sign of recognition from her daughter, just a look of complete contempt.

Her daughter flinched from the smell of sweat and sex. With a look of disdain Rebecca turned on a heel, expecting them to follow her out of the room and out of the house. They dutifully followed with Vernon as backup.

A vehicle was parked outside so Vernon commandeered it, driving them in silence, away into the night. 

"Drop me here," the girl demanded. There was a stop for the campus auto-bus, where she could get a lift into town. She at last had come to her senses and was thankful for their help. "They got me drunk," she said, awkwardly, trying for an excuse. Partying with college hunks hadn't been such a good idea after all.

Rebecca looked away from her while Vernon just looked amused. He looked at the French maid wondering who she was, for there was something familiar about her. It dawned on him that the breasts cut a familiar figure on campus. It couldn't be Rebecca's mother though, could it?

"Where too?" he asked.

"Parkside, please," Anne said, trying to disguise her voice. 

Vernon drove across campus, trying to figure out who the mystery woman was. This was a student residential area, and he knew almost everyone still on campus during the break. He would ask Larry tomorrow, for the mystery annoyed him. 

She alighted without a word, leaving her daughter to carry on with Vernon. Quickly walking into the shadows she changed course for Larry's apartment. She had cursed the fact her daughter was going out with that trouble maker, Vernon, though right now she was doubly grateful to him. 

He had saved her daughter from being forced into an orgy, and he saved her too. It would have to remain a secret that she knew anything about it, but a way would be found to thank him. At last she reached the outer doors of Larry's apartment, desperately hoping he was in. The doors buzzed open and she was safely inside.

***

"What the hell happened to you?" Larry exclaimed, and ran to help her in. 

Anne collapsed in his arms, crying large salty tears. "I'm sorry Larry, I 'm so sorry," she squeaked between heavy breaths. 

She was unable to talk let alone explain what happened, so he half carried her into the bathroom to run a deep bath. He dunked her in the steaming water, after testing it with an elbow. "Don't try and talk, just lay there and try to relax," he said. 

Trying to soothe her and failing, he reached behind her head to switch on the implant. "You're my sweetheart, just remember that," Larry told her. He watched her relax under the influence of his special program. She smiled up at him, covering her body the best she could, looking embarrassed. 

He took hold of a hand lathering it in hot sudsy water. Working his way up her arm, nothing of her skin was missed, slowly and methodically stroking on lather then rinsing it off. It took a while to thoroughly wash away the crusty semen from her body, but he took his time.

She laid back, leaving her body to him. The therapeutic massage was working, together with his program, allowing her once more to be his innocent sweetheart; with a great big crush on him. 

He carried her to the bed and tucked her in for the night. So exhausted was she the dark slumber of night time overwhelmed her. She slept fitfully while he kept an attentive vigil over her. 

***

Next morning he made breakfast but the atmosphere was no longer one of gentle teasing and flirting. He eventually coaxed out of her a rough outline of what happened. 

"You won't want me now," she complained, "I don't blame you," she sobbed.

He couldn't see her so upset, it was breaking him up inside so badly, he had to do something. He pulled her head to his chest to hold her tight. He pressed the contact that activated the implant and told her. "You are my sweetheart, just remember that," he told her. 

The command was clear enough to activate his program so the implant fed her mind with rules of behaviour for a different game. She was a young innocent girl again, learning to fall in love, with a crush on him. 

Anne thought he was such a sweet guy. He had spent a lot of time with her, helping her get over the terrible events of the past few days. She no longer thought being his android was so terrible. Inside she giggled over remembering being his sex-droid, when he had taken advantage of her, taking her in such lascivious ways. It was so naughty, but it felt so right, because it happened with him.

Anne looked up at him with a smile on her face. He kissed away the tears, still holding her tight. "I do want you, you are so beautiful, how can I possibly resist you," he told her. 

"Oh! Larry, you are wonderful. You look after me so well, keep me safe, make me yours again, please," Anne pleaded. 

She was asking a student to make love to her, totally oblivious to how inappropriate this behaviour was. 

"I'm going to kiss you all over," he announced. Pulling off his clothes he plonked his body heavily onto the bed and grabbed a hold of her wrists. She yelped in delight, while pulling away from him, only to be pulled back and pushed onto the bed. He used his weight to hold her down.

"What are you going to do to me? You will be gentle with me, won't you?" she said, with a pink blush to her cheeks. 

She looked coy and so terribly cute he couldn't resist kissing her. He nibbled and sucked and licked her lips. He kissed her eyes telling her. "Keep them shut or I'll blindfold you," he ordered. 

"I want to look at you, see what you are up to," she challenged. 

He could see she wanted him to enforce his will upon her and so grabbed a pillow case, folded it, and wrapped it around her eyes. His lips nibbled on her neck then kissed their way down to her shoulders, under her arms to her hands. Lips and hand and fingertips, slid over her sensitized flesh.

Anne lay not quite still but not wanting to move. She needed to feel every tingling sensation her lover was forcing her to experience. He was kissing and licking her hands, now her fingers. She was melting in a pool of pure emotion. His touch was wired directly to her feelings which were being fired up to an overpowering pitch. 

She reacted by moaning softly. Her head was thrust back with her throat exposed. Little mewling sounds gurgled up to emerge quietly from her open mouth. On every breath of air expelled a little gasp of surprise or an overflow of emotion was expressed. He worked his way back up her arm to her neck. 

She worked her lips, needing him to savage them. To feel at least his tongue enter her, for it to be symbolic, and needing it too. She pulled up the blindfold to see his face full of devotion, concentrating on pleasing her. 

"I love you so much. Take me, I'm yours," she whispered.

He instead worked his way down her other arm paying it as much attention, ending up sucking on her fingers. This time he quickly licked up her arm to her armpit, sensitizing the flesh there until it felt like liquid platinum, burning coldly. She felt the sheet pulled to expose a little more of her flesh. 

Very slowly his lips closed upon a nipple. She whimpered when they gripped, ever so gently squeezing the nipple tighter and tighter. Suddenly, fingers roughly grabbed the other nipple and twisted it, hard. Anne yelped from surprise and pain. His tongue flicked the trapped a nipple then it was sucked into his mouth to be bitten and gently nibbled on.

The sheet was pulled a little further, exposing more of her delightful body. 

Down over her belly she felt him nibbling, sucking, licking and teasing with his fingers. She needed to raise her hips, to thrust her sex at him, but was so weak from the onslaught of sensations; instead she collapsed into the soft bed. The sheet began to slide from her, its progress speeding up, sending shivers over her body as it travelled over sensitized skin. Her secret little place was being exposed but that hardly mattered after such an assault driving her senses into overdrive. 

From her toes, up her legs, he quickly progressed, until gloriously he reached her thighs. 

"Touch me there, please my lover, touch me, enter me," she pleaded. 

By way of encouragement she groaned a wavering sound meant to be a plea for satisfaction. Unrecognisable words were recognisable sounds, meaning she begged for fulfilment. His very breath upon her thighs was an agony for she needed no promise of what was to come, she needed the deed itself. At last his lips touched hers. 

She cried out as though in dreadful pain. An animal caught in a trap, wailing, would make as unappealing a sound for mercy. Her feet fell to the side bringing with them the knees, and so the thighs fell open too. Her body was moving to his tune, the one being played upon her fluted lips. 

"Yes, gobble me all up," she laughed, now lost in pure pleasure.

The lips swelled with pride from having so much attention lavished upon them from the one she adored. He delved in with a tongue and fingers, exploring her gently though relentlessly. It seemed he was keeping her just this side of the gates to nirvana. Any moment she would tumble into the abyss of madness or pleasure, one side of the mountain or the other. 

He had pushed her up the mountain and now would bring her down, though, until then, he kept her on the edge. "Please, make me cum," she moaned. "Let me cum, I need to cum, please!" she begged.

He guided her through a long and far reaching orgasm. It was fascinating watching her. Her body shivered, building up to a quake, shaking her whole body. "I'll look after you, just sleep," he whispered. He watched her fall asleep and this time made sure the implant was off. She needed the deep peaceful sleep of recuperation.

The implant was meant to be used occasionally, to enhance a naughty game in the bedroom. She had been using it far too much, though most of the time it hadn't been intended. It had caused too much trouble so the sooner it was removed the better. A doctor at the college had performed the operation and he would remove it, only he was away, like most of the faculty.

She was already affected by the implant because she was helpless to fight against its influence when it was active. What the long term consequences were he hadn't a clue. Larry decided he would look after her until the doctor returned. He looked at her sleeping with a troubled look on her face. It made him determined to help her forget this terrible night.



Human Android Ch. 06



 (Don't blame my editor for any errors, as this was rushed out without his kind assistance.)



"Hi Larry," Vernon cheerily greeted his friend. He stood in the doorway leaning against the frame, with a disarming smile on his face. He watched his friend turn from the computer screen with his mind still on whatever it was he had been working on. 

"Hi Vern," he absently replied. "Hey, what are you doing here?" he added.

"Nice morning for a stroll, bit restless as well. Couldn't sleep with a mystery on my mind," he said. On opening the door he had detected the scent of a woman, amongst the bitter smell of electronic circuits. Now he was sure, his geeky friend had made a conquest, and it amused him. 

That must be why he hadn't been pestered for the promised, all important, magic games console. His reception was always hit and miss, not just with Larry either, but this was more than usually off-putting. Perhaps the new friend was a pariah and Larry didn't want anyone to see her. Or, maybe Larry was afraid she might fall for the campus heart-throb.

It was his skills in electronics that brought the two friends together, when Larry devised some surveillance devices for his uncle. Somehow their personalities fit together; the awkward teenager, with the confident man of the world. Both of them were eighteen, yet polls apart, where experience of life was concerned. They were both quietly spoken and thoughtful and both could handle an awkward situation, with words or violence. 

Vernon smiled again, when his friend looked toward the bedroom door, wearing a worried look. He felt like reassuring Larry, that whoever it was, they were safe from him. He already had what he wanted. "I was curious about a girl dressed in a French maid outfit. Gave her a lift to near here, last night, wondered who she might be."

Larry looked startled for just a moment. He couldn't help glancing furtively toward the bedroom door. "She had big tits, like Rebecca's mom. Probably false as part of the outfit," he added. The look on his friends face was comical. He was trying to cover up a look of angry guilt, with nonchalance, only the emotions rippled over his face while it grew red with embarrassment. 

"OK! No problem, I just thought I'd ask that's all. I had to come by anyway, to deliver a promise. Why are we whispering?" Vernon suddenly asked. He noticed Larry was too distracted to ask what was meant by a promise. Why wasn't he clamouring for the games console?

"Come on Larry, who have you got in there?" Vernon chided him. He chuckled with a conspiratorial look on his face, meaning to get him to introduce this new found friend. Whatever was going on, it was important to him, so Vernon wasn't going to push too hard. The look of defiance on Larry's face was enough to warn him off.

"OK! Do you want this games machine or not?" Vernon asked, pointing at a box just outside the door. The lurid colours and pictures were enough of a clue as to what it was. Larry's look of despondency rattled him.

Vernon picked up the box and brought it in, plonking it down on the sofa. "Mind if I use the bathroom," he asked.

"Yea, sure, Vern. Hey, thanks for the mark two," Larry softly said, obviously trying to sound enthusiastic, though failing. 

Vernon waved away the thanks as he strode to the bathroom. The lack of interest confirmed something was up. A girl could do that to a guy. If she was the type to mess with Larry, he was just the person to put her right. 

A black something, with frilly white trim, was spilling out from a laundry basket. He opened it up and smiled to himself. The French maid outfit! Remembering what happened last night his expression turned to anger. His friend's girlfriend had been abused by those morons! So that was why Larry was so jumpy. It was reason enough to whisper if she was sleeping off the hurt.

She hadn't seemed drunk, like the waitress, but there was something wrong. He had sensed it on entering that dirty room last night. 

From the bathroom another door led into the bedroom. He pushed it gently, anticipating the telltale sticking point that would herald a squeaking groan of wood on wood or hinges shrieking. Luckily it was silent. Opening it enough to stick his head around the door, he did just that.

It wasn't a young girl asleep in the bed, it was a mature woman. The face was in repose at an unfamiliar angle with an unfamiliar expression on her face. She moaned, creasing her brow from a bad dream, or memory. He ducked back in, with that familiar image about to make sense; to be recognised. Vernon flushed the toilet and put his hand on the door to the lounge that was really a workshop. 

His upper body carried on through the door while his feet had just caught up with the shock. Consequently he stumbled in. Larry stood in the same spot, looking down at the games console wrapping, still unopened. The looks that passed between them confirmed Vernon now knew and that each other knew it too.

Vernon marched across the room and grabbed his friend's shirt in both fists. "You had better tell me what's going on here," Vernon slowly stated. The familiar threatening voice was low and heavy. It had never ever been used against Larry, before this moment.

"It's none of your business, just go. Get out!" Larry hissed quietly back at him.

"It is my business. You have my girlfriend's mother in that bed. I want to know what's been going on. Shit! Last night, did she tell you about that?" he asked, while slowly shaking Larry in a tight grip. He knew his friend was no push over, another reason why he liked the guy, but he just stood there taking it. He looked exhausted.

"You OK?" he asked. 

The sudden change in tone of voice, to one of thoughtfulness, woke Larry from the nightmare as though he had been slapped. He hadn't slept all night, thinking her ordeal last night had been his fault. He was still wondering what he could do about it. 

"You're out of your depth, you need help. She's a professor, the head of a department, and she's in your bed. Let me help you buddy. I'm discreet Larry, you know that," he said. 

They were touching foreheads. So close, Larry couldn't help seeing the stark sincerity in his eyes. He could no longer hold back the tears. In both eyes drops blossomed but did not fall. 

Vernon pulled back, embarrassed for his friend. "I'll make a coffee while you tell me everything," he demanded. It was beginning to hit him, harder than a blow from that big lug of a football player. He and Rebecca had walked in on her mother last night. She had been in an orgy with those stupid people, waiting for more idiots to arrive! She wore a mask so none recognised her, thankfully, not even her daughter. 

Bob and his friends were morally retarded, hence the dismal condition they found the two women in that room. Why had she been there? Why was she just there waiting for more? Shaking his head, Vernon attempted to put aside the doubts until he heard Larry's tale of woe. Realising he had just been standing there, he spooned coffee granules into a couple of mugs. 

"Why do you drink this stuff?" Vernon asked, shoving a mug into his hand.

"Because it's quick and easy to make and it tastes reasonable every time," Larry answered, more like his old self, while on safe ground. "You just get used to it," he added.

"Not bad. So how did the hard case professor get into your bed? Start at the beginning and tell me. You need serious help, my friend," Vernon stated. He watched the geeky guy nod his head. The look on his face relaxed on realising he could share the burden with a dependable friend.

"Remember when I cleared out Rebecca's garage? There was an old android there and I thought it might be useful, to examine its programming. When I got the thing back here I realised it wasn't just a maid-droid, it had all the woman's bits, like a sex-droid. It was only afterwards, I found out who it was," Larry said, with a clear look of embarrassment on his face. He seemed to be in a dream world, drifting off to right back where it started. 

Vernon didn't want to interrupt as Larry started to make more sense, when talking about the technical issues of an implant. Vernon was already putting together what must have happened at the party, why she just lay there, waiting for the orgy to continue. 

"She's vulnerable Vern, I've got to protect her," he spoke earnestly, wanting Vernon to understand. 

"It's not your fault! She shouldn't have agreed to have the operation in the first place. Those large breasts and the implant, they're all because her husband wanted them. She maybe a demanding and controlling woman at college but at home she's a natural submissive," Vernon told him. 

He was trying to work out what to do. Not just for Larry, for whatever they did, it had to work for him and Rebecca too. "You can't keep her here, Larry, there's a no pet rule in your lease," Vernon reminded him, and was pleased to get a smile. 

"She will be noticed, coming and going from here, and Rebecca will want to know where she is if she stays away from home," he firmly told his friend.

"She should go away for the next few weeks until college starts. Does she have parents?" Vernon asked.

"No she doesn't," Anne said. She spoke bluntly and to the point. 

Larry floundered on seeing her suddenly appear. 

There was no need to introduce them. Larry felt cut off from them both as they looked at each other, like sparing partners, each weighing up the other. 

It was a shock to see the professor wearing nothing but a large shirt. She didn't seem bothered about it, so he shouldn't be either, but he was. There was something wrong about seeing your girlfriend's mother so sexily dressed. 

Her large breasts were trying to emerge from the top, where the buttons couldn't be fastened. The shirt tail and front were short and the sides scooped up, to reveal smooth thighs, up to her hips. If she turned too quickly, everything would be on show, for it was clear she wore no underwear. 

A flash of insight worried him. A responsible professor should be embarrassed being dressed like this, before two young males, yet she stood there perfectly calmly, not even trying to pull the shirt together. A slut wouldn't be bothered about being dressed like this, not bothering to find underwear; even if it was Larry's old pants.

"Do you want some coffee," she asked. 

At least she wasn't flirting or making eyes at Larry in front of his friend. Maybe he was jumping to the wrong conclusion. 

"You are right, I should get away until the surgeon gets back," she said, while pouring hot water into a mug. 

"No parents," he repeated, nearly adding, 'no husband either'. "So what about a favourite aunt?" he asked. 

"Auntie May! That sounds like a good idea. I need to phone her, can't just turn up out of the blue," she said. Her voice was matter of fact, with a hint of resignation thrown in. "Could you get me some clothes from home, I've nothing to wear," she shrugged. 

The simple movement lifted her breasts, and the shirt tails, upward. Her bare thighs and what was between them was nearly revealed. The casual movement hadn't been missed by Vernon. Was it that she no longer cared, or was it a sign of something more insidious?

***

Vernon packed a suitcase with what he thought she should wear, not caring if she agreed or not. Luckily he didn't run into Rebecca. To keep Larry happy he volunteered to drive Anne to the aunt's place, which wasn't going to put him out too much. He figured Anne wanted them to have time together, to make sure he kept quiet about the mess she was in, when returning to Rebecca. 

The conversation was sparse and stilted, and it was no wonder, considering the circumstances. How does an important professor thank a student for rescuing her, and her daughter, from an orgy? 

She wanted to ask who the young guy was; the one who took her from behind last night. It seemed important to at least know his name, after being so intimate, though it was impossible to articulate such a condemning question. 

Anne began to nod off in the warm car. The constant thrum of electric motors combined with the soft hiss of tyres on the highway, lulling her into sleep. 

***

"Hi honey, had a good day in class?" Professor Anne asked. 

"Sure! You had a good day in class?" her daughter teased back.

"I was just wondering, if you knew a certain boy on campus, a member of the sports team," Anne asked her daughter.

"Well that eliminates a lot! What does he look like?" Rebecca asked, while fixing her hair. She was wondering who the unlucky guy was, and what trouble he was in. she knew only too well her mothers reputation as a fierce harridan.

"Well, I didn't get a good look at him. He was tall and muscular, probably a football player, as he was with Bob at the time. He was close behind me so I didn't get to see him," she said.

"Well that helps, if it was one of Bob's friends. Oh! My! He didn't goose you did he, mom?" Rebecca giggled.

"Of course not, how rude, the very idea of it!" Anne complained.

"No I guess they wouldn't have dared. So where were you, with these two?" she asked. She turned to the mirror, to apply another layer of bright red lipstick.

"I was in their fraternity house, upstairs in one of the rooms. There was a young lady there too, as chaperone," Anne added. She could see her daughter wasn't listening, too busy concentrating on her make-up.

"I met the young man after Bob had finished with me, after fucking my face. I had to swallow loads of his cum too, which wasn't nice at all. In a way, it was convenient, as I hadn't eaten much all day. I hungrily ate out that waitress too. With his cum in my belly, and his cum mixed with her pussy juices, I felt full. It was that waitress who served us coffee the other day," Anne said. 

"That's nice, mom," Rebecca dutifully answered, while concentrating on an eyebrow. 

"It was interesting finding her sensitive places, and I think I found her 'G' spot, which I thought was just a rumour; at least no one has found mine. So, any way, when I finished the young lady off, his friend took me. He had a hold of my hips, really reaming me out with a big fat cock. So I had it both ends within an hour and a woman too, which was a novelty. I really learnt something new that evening," Anne said.

"That's good, mom, you're always keen on learning new things," Rebecca murmured. 

"I don't know who he was, but he really fucked me hard and filled me up with lots of cum. I thought he was going to keep spurting his virile young sperm into me for ever. The young man must have been saving it up for ages then I happened to be there, so he deposited it all in me. I don't suppose he thought to introduce himself, as at the time I was a convenient cum bucket; just a female to rut with. I thought it best find out his name, even though they were just using me like a slut, so they couldn't be bothered to introduce themselves. It's only polite to remember someone's name you meet, isn't that right?" Anne asked her daughter.

"Yes, mom, you are right, of course," she mused, while adding a shiny lip gloss over the lipstick. She wanted it to last, as there might not be a chance to refresh it.

"I feel embarrassed not knowing his name, after meeting like that. You look rather slutty in that make-up and short dress, where are you going?" Anne asked.

"Funny you should mention Bob. He invited me over; said he had something to teach me. I know you're all for learning new things, so I'm going over to meet his friends. I'll try to find out who it was you bumped into the other evening, as he said he was going to introduce me to them all. I couldn't decide on which panties to wear with this skirt, so I haven't bothered to wear any. I would probably lose them anyway, so it's not worth it," Rebecca said.

"Well, I guess that's alright, you're starting to take after your mother. Don't forget, whatever he teaches you, give it your best and keep practising, until you get it right," Anne smiled at her daughter.

"Thanks, mom," Rebecca smiled back. "Don't wait up, I think I might be at it all night; he's got a lot of friends," Rebecca added.

***

Anne shuddered on waking from a light nap. The dream was highly disturbing, and did her conscious no good at all. She blinked her eyes from the harsh glare of morning sunlight, slanting into the car. It took a few miles to recover her composure. It was about time she got a grip of herself.

She made Vernon promise not to tell her daughter about the rescue, from Ben and his friends. In return she agreed not to stop Rebecca going out with him and even approved of their relationship. 

Vernon looked at her, seeing this as the professor he knew and disliked, as everyone else did in college. She wasn't just tough, she could be mean too. For Larry's and Rebecca's sake, he kept his temper. 

A previous girlfriend, Jean, could have done with a little sympathetic help, when she became pregnant. Instead, this tough woman expelled her. The rules were the rules, she had recited to the poor girl. 

No consideration had been made for a mistake at the doctor's office, leaving the girl unprotected. The medication casually dished out should have lasted six months, only it turned out to be a faulty batch. Surely she could have shown some sympathy for Jean, and just sent her on a sabbatical. It was all the more maddening to know, this stuck up bitch, had been cavorting with a bunch of the most brainless guys on campus.

Gladly he dumped her off at her aunt's house, without having to go through tedious introductions, and sped off back to the campus.

***

"Hi Uncle John," Anne greeted him with a hug. He was as she remembered, still tall and upright, with a powerful build for a man of fifty. What a contrast to Agatha that was. 

He was surprised how hard she gripped him, even pressing herself against him, unless it was his imagination. "How was the trip?" he dutifully asked. The formalities were over so he was keen to get on with the usual routine. 

"I'm going to give Agatha a massage, it's due now," he said. 

"Can I help," she said, feeling guilty for not visiting before now. Her aunt was bedridden and a massage, in a small way, helped keep some strength in her muscles and avoided bedsores. 

"Thanks for the help. You look as though you need a massage too. A meditative one rather than invigorating," he suggested. It was more a polite suggestion, a word of thanks, rather than meant.

"That would be good, I need to relax after a rough week in college," she answered.

John didn't expect Anne to take up the offer, as she had always been a prude. "I thought everyone was off at the moment," he said, by way of avoiding the issue.

"Believe me it's been a tough week. There are still students on campus and that always means trouble. As for William leaving, well, that knocked me down too," she sighed. 

"I'm sorry, it must have left you vulnerable, less able to cope with student problems," he huffed, with sympathy. "There's a proper table in the spare room. I'll give you a first class relaxing massage," he told her. 

In the guest room she undressed and wrapped a towel around her body. She was getting used to being undressed in a near stranger's home. It was good of him to put up with her, considering he had Agatha to look after. They hadn't been in contact for a long time yet he hadn't hesitated when she asked to visit for a few days.

Anne arranged herself on the leather table, nestling her face into the hole, almost ready to fall asleep. She heard him come in and light candles around the room, then the lights went out. She wondered what she was doing there, lying naked, waiting for Uncle John to touch her. She had always hated being touched. Had all those recent experiences left her so untroubled over being naked and stroked? 




Human Android Ch. 06



John rolled back the towel down her back, leave her partially uncovered. It had been a surprise she agreed to a massage, as she had always been dismissive of alternative therapies, and denied the benefits of healing arts. He was even more surprised she wasn't wearing underwear. 

"This is your hour. I am here for you. All you need do is relax," he recited, with hands smoothing oil into her back. It was as calming for him as it would be for her, though he was surprised how quickly she had relaxed, considering how uptight she usually was. 

He admired the smooth look and feel of her flesh with a professional eye. 

The hands were strong and proficient, unlike Larry's massage that morning. This wasn't meant to be arousing, so was it because of that earlier massage she was become excited? His strong hands massaged oil from her feet, up her legs, and over her thighs. She moaned out loud.

"That's it, let it all out, all the troubles are floating away," he whispered. John misjudged the expression of arousal, thinking it was an exhalation of stress. He moved to her head, with both large hands firmly wrapped around it. 

She was about to tell him to be careful, only it was too late. Anne felt a familiar numbness in her head, announcing the implant was ready. She opened her mouth to tell him to switch it off, only to hear something monstrous emerge. 

"How do you want me, sir," she quietly said.

She had been able to talk to her husband, telling him what not to do, or to try something else for a change, even when the damn thing was on. It was evident that a lot of control over the implant had been lost, leaving her helpless. She had been warned about using it too much, but what choice had she, when it was being switched on by accident so often.

She was supposed to be safe here. At least her uncle wouldn't tell her she was a slut, like that stupid football player had. Those dreadful programs that had been run in her mind too often. She knew now that even without the implant, the slut game was influencing her behaviour, otherwise why would she have stripped off like this?

"Turn over," he quietly spoke. 

Anne was so flustered she turned over onto her back, before adjusting the towel. 

John stood there with the towel in his hands looking at a young naked woman. The candlelight flickered, reflecting in the oil, bouncing a kaleidoscope of colours over her naked flesh. Her large breasts were sitting up ready to be massaged.

Anne felt her thighs fall open and she moaned in consternation as well as from the mounting heat of her sex. She was waiting for him to tell her which game to play. In dismay she could sense already being primed to play at being a slut, yet that wasn't the default game. What was going wrong, for surely the default program should prime her to be his maid. 

What would he think of her playing at being a sexy maid? Even that was preferable to being a slut which seemed to be underlying her behaviour, even when not under the influence of the implant. That thought shook her. She tried to tell him it wasn't her fault; it was that damn implant, yet again! 

"What did you say, Anne?" John asked. He was bemused for this wasn't like his wife's niece that he remembered. He hadn't seen her in a long time and who knew what she got up to in a university. He had heard stories about wild sex parties in dormitories but had dismissed it as wishful thinking.

"I'm ready for you Uncle," she moaned. 

Her husband had left her, so maybe she hadn't had sex in a long time. The massage must have pushed her over the edge. With her legs splayed, it was easy to see she was ready. He hesitated, not knowing what to do. It had been a long time for him too. Taking no chances he thought to make sure he wasn't making a big mistake.

"What am I to do with you?" he asked, trying to sound calm.

"Anything you desire. I am you're sexy maid, ready to pleasure you," she sighed. The inevitability of it all, left her cringing on the inside, and the state of obvious excitement, left her humiliated. Knowing it was true, she would do anything to please him, was crushing.

So she likes to play games like Agatha! It must ne a trait that ran in the family. It had been a long time since he had enjoyed a sex game, and he wondered how far she was willing to go. 

"On your knees before me maid," he commanded. The heavy, masterful tone of voice was still strong after all these years.

"Yes, Sir," she answered. Despite feeling humiliated, the slut in her sounded enthusiastic. Anne slid off the table, onto the floor, immediately posturing before him on her knees. The maid program would have waited for further orders but the deeply embedded slut game led her on. Without waiting for instructions she unzipped his jeans and dragged out his cock.

"Wait! You're too eager, you're behaving like a slut, not a maid," he reprimanded her. He years of experience playing games and it was all coming back to him. He looked down at her where she held on to his cock, looking up with a look of pleading in her eyes. 

Anne heard those fateful words with a sense of anguish at the inevitability of what was to come. Her uncle had summoned the slut program to reinforce the already strong influence on how to behave. 

The maid game was saucy and naughty but this was down right vulgar. As soon as he was finished with her she would run to her room and switch off that damnable implant. It was unlikely to be invoked again while here, giving her a chance to recover, and regain some resistance to it. 

John looked at the young woman, so eager to suck him off. If she was so easily turned on, and ready to play sexy games, he would have some fun with her. He could feel the old vitality flooding into his loins. The toys and fetish clothing would have to be brought out of the cellar, and dusted off.

"You may pleasure your master," he commanded. No sooner had he spoken than she gobbled him up with an eagerness that surprised him. He was pleased to realise maturity meant being in control, enough to make the pleasure last. He was looking forward to playing with this young, big breasted woman.

John lent back against the massage table watching her work on his cock. She seemed desperate to suck him off. Her hands were working his cock and balls with skill enough to tell him this wasn't the first time. He would have to teach her some patience. He leant forward to pinch her nipples. She looked up at him with a thankful look, though it was hard to tell, with her mouth distorted out of shape, around his large swollen cock.

"Enough!" he ordered. "You're an eager slut. Lets look at how wet your cunt is," he said. She was bemused by this, unsure what to do, confirming her inexperience. "Sit on the floor. Grab you ankles and lean back. Spread your legs," he said.

Anne groaned, with the humiliation of it. When she heard herself groan she realised it was not that, it was from frustration. She wanted his cock! She needed to taste his sperm. The lewd position he had her in, showing off her sex, was of little concern, compared to the deep seated need. That worried her! 

He knelt between her legs and ran a finger across her lips to emphasise how wet she was. "You really are a wanton slut! You want my cock badly don't you? Tell me," he told her.

"I want your cock," she said, through heavy breaths that lifted her large breasts with every gasp of air.

"That's not good enough, tell me how much you want my cock," he demanded.

"Oh!" she wailed, not knowing if it was the sound of lust or despair. "I need your cock, please, fuck me with your big fat cock. I'm a desperate slut, desperate to be filled with your cock, please fuck your little pathetic slut, Sir," she whined. 

He moved a wet finger to circle her brown ring. "Have you had a cock in your asshole?" he asked. 

"No, Sir. Sorry, Sir. It's all yours, if you want it," Anne replied, in a whisper. This had always been off limits, whenever her husband played with her, and to be offering it now was shocking. Anne was appalled to find how low her morals had sunk; it frightened her to think that not a shred of decency was left. 

"Perhaps later," he smiled. He rested back on the floor with an aged grunt. "Ride my cock and pleasure me," he told her.

It was shameful to do so, though more humiliating to find such keenness, that she scrambled onto him in a hurry. She straddled his thighs scrabbling for that special hardness she needed to satisfy a deep craving. Lifting her crotch, she guided her cunt over its head then slid her whole body onto it. Her vagina seemed to devour it, like a starving creature.

As though she were pumping up a deflated fuck doll, her breaths blew noisily between gritted teeth with each thrusting action. Up and down she bounced on him, harder and harder, until he grabbed her tits. 

"Slow down, slut, make it last," he advised her.

Yet again the slut program was being summoned by that single dreadful word, when he called her a slut. Anne obeyed. It was appalling, knowing he was using her like a fuck doll for his pleasure. The humiliation of it excited her so much, she wanted to let loose, with a deep needed orgasm. The implants rules were so strong, they kept her obeying him. She was his slut, ready to enthusiastically obey his every command.

At last she felt his cock jerk inside her pussy. She had to cum now! "Please, let me cum," she grunted, like a rutting hog. 

"Go for it slut!" he laughed.

Anne shook her head from side to side, whipping her hair in wide circles about her head. "Thank you, Sir, thank you for letting me cum," she cried out, in delirious pleasure. She slowed to a halt sitting on his deflating cock, grudgingly feeling it leave her vagina. 

John reached up to her breasts taking them in his hands, gripping them tight as though squeezing the last of the orgasm from her body. He lifted her off him by those bountiful tits to lay her next to him. He moved in close to look her at her. 

"You may be a college professor but you fuck like a wanton little slut. While you're here I shall keep you busy. Instead of you teaching I shall be teaching you a thing or two, for a change," he smiled. 

Her eyes were half closed, recovering from a deeply satisfying orgasm. The shame of fucking herself on her uncle's cock hadn't caught up with her yet. The smile on his face was pleasant, yet she didn't like the implications of being, taught 'a thing or two'. He was a man of experience and out here, away from town, she was so very vulnerable. Aunt Agatha was hardly conscious, so there would be no help there. 

It was hoped he had finished with her, for the moment, so she could get back to her room. Now she had so little control, it wasn't possible to reach up to deactivate the implant in his presence. She had learnt that lesson when Bob had her helplessly pandering to his whims. As soon as he sent her away, to get dressed, she could switch off the damn thing and leave. 

"Come on, you can help me fetch some toys from the basement," he told her. Helping her up from the floor he noticed how disreputable she looked. He knew he had shot a load into her, as though it had been stored over the years and it was seeping from her.  

"We'll take a shower first," he said. They soaped each other under the hot steaming water. Once dry he dressed, but left her naked.

A trunk in the cellar was wrestled open. He rummaged around dismissing some items. "These can wait for later," he muttered. He looked at her, assessing her size, and dropped clothing into a box. Toys were found and thrown into it too.

Easing his aching back, John straightened up. They carried the playthings up stairs between them. In the kitchen she made coffee while he rummaged around, trying to decide what to use first. He pulled out an unopened package, chuckling to himself. 

"What games have you played?" he asked. 

Anne tried not to answer. Revealing her naughty and perverse secrets was just another uncomfortable act she was committed to. It seemed there was nothing she could deny him.

"I played at being an android, a sexy maid, a sex slave, and a slut," she stated. 

"Nice wholesome family games," he teased. "We shall play those games too, though you seem to like playing at being a slut the most. I always felt sorry for your husband, thinking you were a prude. On your rare visits here you were always a stuck up bitch. I was courteous, yet you were the college high flyer, too high and mighty to acknowledge your ignorant country relatives," he thoughtfully spoke.

"Look at you now, you're such a slut, you don't even try to cover your naked body," he laughed.

Anne felt miserable, for he was right. The slut program was hard at work influencing her mind, setting the rules for what it considered to be just a game. She was trapped, in its grip, acting out the role of a perfect little slut.

She followed him into the lounge, agonising over what torture was planned for next. She had tried not to look at what was being shoved into the box. A black leather bodysuit was unavoidably seen and immediately disliked. 

"Here, try this on. It's never been used, never got around to trying it out. You might find it interesting," he laughed.

He dusted her with talcum powder then pulled, with difficulty, a plastic one-piece suit around her body. It was an odd shape, not fitting at all. Inside it were tight sleeves for her limbs. He sat her down on the carpet, with squeaks of plastic rubbing together. It was difficult to move in the odd garment. He attached a hose to a nozzle then switched a pump on. 

The plastic suit began to inflate, with her inside, completely covered in see-through plastic. Eventually it was fully inflated, gripping her in a tight embrace. Her head was covered and held up so that she could see her arms outstretched, with both legs upright and apart. She was bent awkwardly, into its shape, unable to move. 

"Well, that has been worth waiting for," he chuckled. 

Swivelling her eyes, she followed his every move, afraid of what might be next. Her breasts and sex could be clearly seen, yet were unavailable, so why was she incarcerated in this thing; whatever it was? She could breathe through tubes stuck into her nostrils. Her mouth was the only thing in the open air, held open by a ring of hard plastic, so there was no problem breathing. 

She watched him bring a small table over, to place it next to her, with his mug of coffee on it. He was out of view, behind her for a moment then he lowered himself onto her. She was looking at a close up of his crotch! 

"You make a nice comfy chair, Anne," he laughed. 

It dawned on her what she was wearing. It was a blow up chair, designed to hold a person tightly inside it! Her legs were upright, forming the back of it. Her arms were stuck out as the arms of the seat. He was sitting on her tummy or at least the inflated bubble over her stomach. There was plenty of padding under her too, so it wasn't uncomfortable. It was just hideously humiliating, to be turned into a piece of furniture. 

He took a sip of coffee, looking down at her eyes flickering madly. It was almost the only part of her body that she could move. "So, indomitable professor, how does it feel to be reduced to a piece of humble furniture?"

Instead of complaining the slut program answered for her. "Thank you, master, for making me useful to you. Your humble little slut is at your disposal, ready to submit to whatever you desire," Anne said. Unable to move her mouth, the words were garbled, reverberating as meaningless sounds in the close confines of the plastic chair.

John watched the tongue flapping, in a mouth held open by hard plastic ringing her lips. He couldn't understand what she was saying but could imagine the cursing. The professor may like to play games, yet surely, this was way past the norm for her. He would enjoy exploring her limits and pushing beyond those boundaries.

He chuckled again, thinking it was a good job he was slim. The pressure of a fat man would squeeze the breath out of her. "I'll show you the beauty of this piece of furniture," he stated, while unzipping his jeans.

Her head was held up in front of his crotch with her mouth wide open. His cock bounced out, not quit hard yet, slapping her plastic lips. He dangled it in, as though fishing in a small pool. John nudged her tongue playing chase with it.

Anne was used to being helpless, though here she was physically powerless too, unable to even speak. What other ghastly torture devices he intended to use on her was too menacing to contemplate. She was used to playing gentle, bedroom games with her husband, with strict limits. This was diabolical!

John thought she was willingly playing a game, with a set of her own limits, whereas now, it seemed she had no control over the implants game program. The implant had helped her play at being a bit of a slut, sidestepping her reluctance, letting her husband enjoy a saucy romp in the bedroom. Unfortunately, it was now too well implemented into her mind. When told to be a slut, Anne played the role too well.



Human Android Ch. 07



Anne was tightly encased in a blow up outfit that took the shape of an arm chair when inflated. Her mouth was held open at the front of the seat, where John had sat. It had been overkill, to be left helpless, like a humble piece of furniture. Anne had no option but to faithfully obey orders from the influence of the implant in her head, so there was no need to hold her captive. Encased in clear plastic, unable to move, she was physically, as well as psychologically, powerless. 

He had abandoned her there in the lounge, like a piece of furniture, an object owned, to attend to his wife as part of the usual daily routine. Leaving his sperm to trickle over the plastic seat, dribbling into her mouth, she had to swallow or choke. Her mouth was held open so there was little she could do, as the sticky fluid dripped onto her tongue, where it slowly ran to the back of her throat. 

If he had dismissed her, to the guest room, she could have taken the opportunity to deactivate the implant. Instead, he came back to free her physically. 

"Come on lets get that thing off you. It's an interesting concept, I might try it out again," John told her. 

She certainly hoped not! It was bad enough having to obey his every whim. Being made into a piece of household furniture made it all the more humiliating. 

"I'll help you into this, it's very tight," he said. John was surprised she didn't complain after being freed from the chair. He was trying to push her beyond her limits of endurance, yet she seemed to take it all in her stride. He could see his sperm glistening on her chin, knowing it had run into her mouth, yet she accepted that too. He was especially pleased with how much cum she had inspired him to produce. 

He squirted talcum powder into the leather cat-suit, as he pulled it up her legs. It had been his wife's, some years ago, and it was a tight fit on Anne. Having pulled it up over the hips, he realised it wasn't going to fit over the large breasts. Unzipping the openings might work, so he pulled hard, lifting her up onto her toes. 

The thin leather worked its way up between her cheeks, for a very pleasing view of a firm rear, though he still hadn't managed to pull it up over her shoulders. 

"Crouch a bit, hunch your shoulders," he told her.

He managed to tug the suit over one shoulder then the other. He went to stand before her. 

She was hunched forward, with her breasts lewdly protruding out the unzipped openings. They looked enormous. "Stand up straight, slowly," he advised. 

The black, all in one cat-suit gave a little, and stretched, pulling taut between her lips. When she took a step it was obviously difficult. It was so thin the tight leather clung to her body, like a second skin. 

As she walked around the room it stretched enabling her to move less awkwardly. John couldn't keep his eyes off the leather hugging her pussy, showing it off more rudely than if she were naked. It pursed her lips, exaggerating their openness, as though she were a wanton hussy. 

"You are a wanton hussy," he murmured. From the way she had behaved that didn't begin to describe what she was. Whatever he put her through, she accepted, without demurring in the slightest. "You're not a normal woman, you're a sex doll, a mindless sex doll," he declared, with a pleasant chuckle.

Anne groaned silently. Was this worse than being a slut? She was about to find out, unless he summoned up some other role, from the rich repertoire of unpleasant programs available. In Larry's apartment, a long list of awful sounding sex games had been displayed on his computer, which she hadn't dared contemplate. 

He gave her an apron to protect the suit while she prepared a meal. She stood by him while he ate, not speaking, behaving like a mindless doll as ordered. He couldn't help running a fingernail over her sex, as the lips were so distended, on show. It gripped her sex so tight it looked as though it had been pulled up from inside her gaping holes. 

The more he played with her, the more her sex seemed to explode from the black purse, cupping her lips. Both cheeks were held firmly with the leather disappearing between them. It was cunningly fashioned to grip tight, pushing right up her ass when she stood tall. In a moment of inspiration he had her slip on a pair of high heels. 

Forced to stand upright, with shoulders squared, they pulled the leather even tighter around her crotch. Her breasts were pushed out in an exaggerated presentation, begging to be pinched and caressed at every opportunity; which he made sure was often.

"You can prepare some food for my buddies, its card night," he announced. 

Left in the kitchen she tried quickly to complete the order, though it wasn't easy in the tight outfit. Once finished preparing snacks the command would be too, so she could go to her room and deactivate the implant. The need to be free of his games was vital. 

Anne froze. She heard someone entering the lounge. The voices were joined by another as she continued to lay out chicken pieces form the oven. He had lived for sometime as a bachelor on frozen and tinned food. 

Inside she smiled thinking he would dismiss her pretty soon, and she could sneak upstairs, for he wouldn't want her to be seen like this. The gossip would race through this small community like wild fire. Anne was startled when John walked in though as a doll she showed no emotion. At last she was to be dismissed to her room where she could switch off the implant. Patiently she watched him rummage around in a kitchen draw. 

"A nice spread, you've done well," he told her. He noted again the change in her behaviour and worked out it was from telling her she was a doll. She stood mute effectively accomplishing this latest act, even to the point of holding her face in a passive expression. It was unnerving and therefore no way would he introduce her to his friends.

"You can stop playing a doll right now," he said. The expression of relief was evident. Her whole body relaxed and she took a deep breath ready to say something. 

At last she was nearly free! The game had been terminated, so she was ready to scamper back to her room, switch off the implant, change her clothes, and run for the safety of home, while he was busy with his friends.

"You can be a maid for the evening, and serve my friends," he ordered.

"As you wish sir," she answered, with a curtsy. Anne was struck with dread. The hope of escape had lasted only seconds before it was snatched away. How could he exhibit her dressed like this? Parading around with her breasts out on show, and the lewd way her sex was clearly outlined in the thin leather, tightly pursing her lips, it would be outrageous. 

She could only stand the exhibitionist humiliation by letting go completely to the implanted program, running around to its rules, behaving like his sexy little maid. Not that she had much control left, so whatever he asked, she would jump to obey.

"Leave the apron on," he added. The full length, white cotton apron, covered her breasts and thighs, leaving her bottom tightly encased and on show. "Come on, I'll help you carry this stuff out," he said, with a playful slap to her bottom.

Anne giggled from the slap, playing faithfully to the role, rather than chastise him for being familiar. It served to remind her how thin the material was and how vulnerable she was. 

The room went stonily quiet when she walked in and the strangers stared at her. She purposely looked away from them with the shame of this terrible display of her body. This as well covered compared to when Ben had her yet with these older men it felt more shameful. 

"Our lovely maid will be serving us tonight, say hello to the guys Anne," he said. 

"Hi guys, I'm your sexy little maid, here to serve you, whatever you want, sir," Anne said, in a cute little voice and with a saucy wink. The program was pushing her into a well learnt role. She had played this game with her husband, only then she had some control left. Here with strangers it was dangerous to flirt and be pushed into being as sexy as she could with them. 

She leant over the table with drinks, knowing they could see her breasts through the non-existent sides of the apron. At least that was the only thing of her body that was bare. 

"Take off the apron, you don't need it now," John told her. 

They all watched her make a show of lifting it up and over her head, in an exaggerated stretch, arching her back, lifting her breasts. The guy sitting to her left, Pete, sighed loudly. 

"Nice tits!" Leonard exclaimed. 

The others gave him a hash look thinking she would be offended. 

"I'm glad you like them, sir," she said, with a saucy smile. As expected it encouraged the others, for they were no gentlemen. What could she expect dressed like this? They were hardly going to treat her with the respect a university professor deserved. 

"They're so big, I've never seen anything like them," Joe said.

Pete couldn't take his eyes off them, even as he lifted his cards from the table. 

"How do you like the outfit?" John asked them.

They reluctantly looked away from her large breasts to study the rest of her. She walked around the table giving them all a good look at her body. She was covered but it didn't feel like it. It felt as though she had been body painted and it looked it too.

"Now that is tight, is it uncomfortable?" Leonard asked. 

"A little, sir, but if it pleases you then it is worth a little discomfort, sir" she answered.

The others chuckled with mirth covering their interest at the way her lips moved in the tight purse. John was more interested in her ass. He had plans for that hole. 

Serving John a drink she stood by him waiting for further instructions. His free hand came up between her thighs. He pressed her there then ran a finger between her cheeks, where the outfit gripped tight, cutting her globes into separating them, so her asshole showed. The wrinkled hole showed as an indentation in the thin leather. After he had pushed at it the material was stretched inward even more. 

The drinks flowed and the hands patted her bottom or stroked her thighs, though none of them were as personal as John. They all appreciated how much more revealing the outfit became as the evening wore on. Distinct indentations had been pushed into her pussy and asshole. 

"I want to stay in the pot but don't want to put any more money in, so what do you say if I offer something else?" John asked. He wrote on a piece of paper and handed it around. 

Anne watched the piece of paper passed from hand to hand, with a great feeling of humiliation, having seen it written, over his shoulder. She cringed inside on seeing them nod eagerly in approval. 

"Do you agree?" Leonard asked her.

"Of course sir, I am your maid, here to serve you," she giggled. 

As predictable as a fox in chicken coop, John lost the hand. She had lost something too. 

A big smile lit Joes' face after concentrating hard on his cards. He pulled the chips toward him with the little piece of paper. He beckoned to her and in deep shame she walked round the table to him. He had won her left breast! Even in front of his friends, he would make use of it she was sure of that.

Anne demurely presented her breast to him as though she was about to breast feed him. 

"Go on Joe, you know you want to," they encouraged.

He lifted both hands to cup hr breast and guided it to his mouth. A little gasp of pleasure escaped her lips. She wasn't so sure it was the program compelling her to play the game. She could feel her sex clenching and swelling. He sucked as much as he could and cradled as much as he could in both hands yet it still wasn't covered completely, not that it mattered. 

Anne was enjoying it! After such provocation and the unremitting implant working away at her all day she was ready for anything. With this stranger sucking on her breast, she knew for certain how ready she was. In such an aroused state it would be difficult to hold back but under that rules of the game she was even less able to hold back.

"Mmmm, that's so good, sir," she murmured. 

Soon another piece of paper was written out though this time no one bothered reading it they eagerly played while Joe toyed with her breast and held his cards in the other hand. Often he turned his head to lick or bite on a nipple. Each time she would present it to his mouth, like a dutiful mother to a child, wanting feeding.

Positioning their chairs either side of her Joe and Pete gripped her breasts while sucking on them powerfully. Anne leaned her head back and moaned gratefully. "Thank you sirs, it's wonderful," she groaned. 

Sated, the two men sent her to wipe her breasts down and fetch more drinks. Returning to the table she noticed another piece of paper in the pot. Her nerves were on fire with lust so she didn't care, but still wondered what part of her body was up for grabs this time. She soon found out.

She stood by Leonard who didn't say anything he merely presented the piece of paper. How could she let him do that to her, he was a stranger. These breasts were all her for they weren't implants but had been induced to grow. They were still relatively new to her and not thought of as a part of her body, so it didn't seemed so bad to let these men fondle and kiss them. 

It dawned on her that she was thinking under the influence of the implant. She was already marked down as whore, so this was just another small step toward the full thing. She shuffled her feet apart and looked at him, hoping he wouldn't, yet knowing he couldn't resist. 

She felt his fingers run between the lips of her pussy, through the thin material, so keenly she might have been naked. She put her hands on his shoulders and dropped her head to rest on his. "Oh! Sir, that is so good, more please, sir," she moaned. 

The fabric was stretched to breaking point, pushing deeper into her pussy, tantalisingly grazing her bud, on every stroke. To her dismay she began to gyrate upon his fingers, rubbing herself on them, rubbing her breasts in his face.

"I think the sexy bitch is having more fun than me," Leonard light-heartedly complained.

"Put her over your knee, that might calm her down," John suggested. 

Leonard got a good grip of her hips and pushed her away then grabbed her hair, dragging her over his lap. He gave her bottom a slight slap. She squirmed on his cock pocking her tummy so he slapped her hard. 

"One, sir," she responded. 

Leonard looked around the table with a bemused look. "Two from each of us," John laughed. 

Leonard smacked a cheek hard this time and was ready for the counting. Eight wallops he administered and with each she responded by counting them. She stood up unsteadily, only just refraining from rubbing her sore bottom. 

"Your naughty maid deserved a good spanking, sir. Thank you for correcting your naughty maid, sir. Your maid will not try to get off on your fingers without permission again, sir," she intoned, in a little girly voice, sounding contrite. 

The men looked on in disbelief. Their faces turned to John who was suppressing a silent guffaw. Little did his friends know this was an important professor, standing before them after receiving a spanking, and apologising for her lewd behaviour! The stuck-up bitch had been trying to get off on his fingers too. She was so far gone with these games she couldn't control herself, even before strangers. She had turned out to be the biggest slut he had ever known. Perhaps it was all those years of sexual repression.

"It's not your fault Anne, your just a sexy little maid, ready to satisfy us all, isn't that right?" he asked. The brief look of fear on her face was a picture that told him he was right.

"Yes, sir, I am here to satisfy my betters, sir. What ever I must do to please you all, sir, it will be a pleasure" she stammered. Inside she cringed with dread, expecting them to take her, for she had offered herself to them.

"I bet it will," Leonard added. 

"You had better lean back over the table, so the winners can make use of their winnings," John told her. 

Without a word she lifted her bottom onto the edge of the table and laid back. Two of them leaned in over her to grip her breasts and suck on her nipples. Leonard worked upon her lips pushing more strongly at the leather. She felt the crotch give. He was inside her with a big fat finger, exploring delightfully. 

At first a gentle teasing stroke was used then a more vigorous, twirling motion was used. Another finger found her most sensitive place and worked on that with a hard relentless pressure. 

"Yes! Please, sir, make me cum, sir," she wailed. "Bite my breasts, ram your finger up me, rub my clit hard, please, sirs," she wailed. "Please fuck your maid, sir, fill your maid with cock, I need to cum, please sir," she honestly pleaded. 

Leonard looked at John, with pleading in his eyes, as much as she had expressed. John nodded and he stood up, unzipped his jeans and had his cock in his hand in an instant. He plunged in the open wet hole. Hearing her shriek as though in anguish, everyone knew she had an orgasm, and were impressed with its intensity. 

They felt pleased to have contributed to such an obviously gratifying experience. Anne lay across the table like a sex doll with a puncture, her breath hissing, her limbs limp. She didn't hear them leave or thank John for an entertaining evening. 

"If my wife's agreeable we can do the same next week at my house," Leonard quipped. 

"Not with Marjorie, please," Joe answered him. 

They all laughed as they trotted out.

John had his maid tidy up the mess, which was an advantage of having her play as a maid. She no longer said much as she looked thoroughly tired out. He wondered what she might make of playing the role of an anal slut. Would this be pushing her too far? There was only one way to find out.

She stood by him while he massaged her tight buns with a finger tracing her now very obvious asshole. 

Anne guessed what was coming next, and it would be him up her ass. This had been taboo, something she deplored the very thought of. She clenched her little virgin hole knowing it was useless to resist. If ordered she would offer it to him with enthusiasm, for she had no delusions as to how far it was all out of control. 

With her back to him she shed a single tear. It rolled its lonely way down her cheek. She knew there was nothing to stop him doing anything he liked with her. He was obviously a very experienced man at playing games too. Was there no end to the torture and deep humiliation? 

Having been under the control of the implant all day its influence was almost total. She no longer knew which were her own desires and the game pushing her into something dreadful. It all seemed the same now. Whatever anyone wanted she would relent and play along with as though it was what she wanted too. 

That deep satisfying, overpowering, orgasm was real. That gave her something to think about. Three men using her body while her Uncle watched and she had let go so fundamentally, she became lost in the throws of a primitive, animalistic orgasm. No longer a staid professor, she was nothing but an animal, lustily rutting.

***

The phone rang interrupting their individual thoughts, both dwelling on sex. 

"OK! You can rely on me, don't worry! Elizabeth, I'll take car of it," John hung up the phone, with a look of exasperation, from the woman's harassing manor. Her anxiety was catching, so he took a couple of deep breaths to relax, and think it through. 

A neighbour was having a problem with her daughter and the latest episode of the drama left her in hospital. Elizabeth was waiting with her, and as usual, everything took far longer than expected. The son, Richard, was due home from a camping trip, with no-one to see him into the house, and he would be worried not knowing where they were. 




Human Android Ch. 07



If it were him he would have left a note before leaving, but nothing so simple was possible in that household. It would be inconvenient to keep phoning the house, until getting through to him, even though Elizabeth had nothing else to do while waiting in the hospital.

Although he was over eighteen Richard was just as fickle as the rest of the family. Besides, he had promised to arrange something. Bernard, another neighbour, was away on a fishing trip. He looked across the room at Anne and received the desired inspiration. Of course!

"Go get changed, you're house-sitting," he told her.

***

The ten minute drive seemed to take forever. This was the opportunity she had been waiting for all week. She looked at the large old fashioned, sprawling house. It was surrounded by a grand looking veranda and wasn't too dilapidated. John handed over a spare key to the house. 

"Make yourself at home, as there's no telling when the son will turn up, he's as disorganised as the mother. So, do as your told and behave yourself until you get home. Tell him his mothers in hospital with that wild daughter. Get him to drop you off when he drives over to the hospital. By the way, his name is Richard. I'll make it up to you when you get back, an especially naughty game," John told her, with a smile and wink. 

At last Anne had been left alone and with orders to behave herself too! That meant no more naughty games. Uncle John had left with only two other instructions. She had to tell the lad where his mother and sister were and ask to be dropped off, on his way to the hospital. 

The first thing she did was reach up and switch off the dreadful implant. It seemed her troubles were over. With a cup of herbal tea Anne sat in a big soft armchair, contemplating the last couple of weeks. 

They were an enforced erotic odyssey. Perhaps now she could think of it as an adventure, not of her choosing, but nevertheless it had awakened her sexual urges. It would take some time to return to normal, with a vestige of its influence remaining, though it wouldn't be entirely unwelcome. With the right man, one of her choosing, she could relax in a healthy and active sexual relationship.

A knock on the door awakened her from the deep contemplation. 

"Hi, you must be Richard," Anne said. The young man stood tall, looking her over. She became conscious of the short skirt and skimpy top. So used to being naked, or dressed in fetish outfits, she had been relieved to wear what seemed like normal clothes, at last. 

"Your sister is in hospital. Your mother is there waiting with her," Anne stated. 

"Oh! I had better phone, see what's happening," he said.

It seemed she had been forgotten for the moment, with this news of trouble. She closed the door, a small reminder that she could take action for herself once more, instead of waiting on someone's orders. 

"Well, it seems everything is alright. Mother said not to bother driving over in the dark, she worries a lot," he added, taking another look at her. "Thanks for passing on the message. Who are you?" he asked.

"Anne. I've been staying at John's, your neighbour. He dropped me off to wait for you," she said.

"I can give you a lift back if you want," he said.

"I'd rather go to town, if that's OK," she asked. 

"There's only a bar, not much else," he told her, with a shrug. "I wouldn't go in there dressed like that," he smiled.

Anne pulled at the hem, not making much difference to its inadequate coverage of her thighs. "I want to get a bus back home," she explained.

"No busses at all till morning," he stated. "You'll have to go back to John's place. Unless you want to stay here?" Richard asked, with a grin. 

The wry grin showed an unwelcome interest, though it might be safer here than going back to 'special games', with her uncle. She was expecting lose her anal virginity, except for this reprieve.

The indecision gave him a chance to gain some confidence, to speak up. "So, what were you doing at John's place?" he asked.

"Playing naughty games," she said, before the thought could be held back. So used to having to tell all, she hadn't recovered enough to hide the truth. With the embarrassment of admitting such a personal defect she reddened, and looked down in shame, at the carpet between them. 

"Why with him, he's so old?" Richard exclaimed. "Are you a slut or what?" he added. He too looked embarrassed after blurting out such a gross idea.

That dreadful word was now a dire dread, to be avoided at all costs. Yet here was a complete stranger, accusing her of what she had become. 

"I guess," she stammered, while trying to hold back the honest answer. The awful truth brought on a deeper blush of crimson over her neck and breasts. She was dressed like one, had acted like one, so it couldn't be denied, she was an awful slut. 

"What brought you to his house?" he asked. He was looking at her in astonishment, unable to comprehend what he was hearing.

"He's my uncle," she admitted. With her mind in a swirl of confusion it seemed so difficult to hold back from making it worse.

"You've been playing around with your uncle?" he exclaimed, more loudly this time.

It seemed he was declaring her sins to the whole world. "Yes," she murmured. "I couldn't help it. I had to play sex games with him because of this implant. Whatever he wanted, I had to do it. It wasn't my fault," she complained, feeling pathetic.

"What? What do you mean?" he asked. 

The sneer on his face left her feeling small and wretched. It was a reason but no excuse. It had happened and there was nothing she could do or say to make it otherwise. "I have an implant in my head and it makes me play naughty sex games. It just got out of hand," she said, trailing off to a murmur. 

"I can understand why you want to go home," he sighed. "Will you be safe there?" he asked.

"Yes, I think so. I'll have it taken out as soon as the surgeon gets back to the university," she sighed. 

"So you're at the university. What are you studying?" he asked.

A sense of relief began to calm her on seeing his attitude change. He was looking at her with sympathy, rather than with disdain, or as a predatory male. "I teach business studies," she explained. Just saying it improved her mood and self-worth. She had fought hard to gain the exalted position. "I'm the head of department, a professor," she added, with some pride. 

He looked her over, reminding her how unsuitably dressed she was. A university professor doesn't go around dressed like a slut. She would have to try hard to maintain this newly won confidence.

"My sister," he began then interrupted himself. "What's your name, I can't call an important person like you Anne, can I," he stated.

"Professor Anne Draper," she replied. "You can call me Anne, under the circumstances," she smiled drily.

"I'm sorry I called you names, I didn't know you had, err, what was it you called it?" he asked.

"It's an implant. It's safe, well it should have been. It's a long story and I'm too tired to tell it now," she said. Hoping he might take the hint, she wondered if there was a spare room, or his sister's room was available. She really did feel tired, after all the emotional turmoil of the past week, it was no wonder she was exhausted. 

"So, where is this implant?" he asked, looking suspiciously at her.

"Just here," she said, while lifting the back of her hair. The action was meant to allay his suspicions, but she suddenly realised it was a foolish thing to do. 

"Oh. I guess you should have it removed, it sounds dangerous to me," he said. "Do you want to change? My sister might have something you can wear," he asked. 

With a sigh of relief she nodded. She followed him along a corridor to the back of the house. He opened a door onto what was obviously a young woman's bedroom. The room was a mess. She hadn't bothered to clean it for sometime. 

"This is Jean's room. She's been too preoccupied lately to cleanup, or do anything much. Depressed after being kicked out of school," he said.

The change in his tone of voice was a warning. She wanted to cover the back of her head in a desperate motion of self preservation. Instead she just stood there dumbfounded, wondering what had happened to change his mood. 

He picked up a photo. "Do you recognise her?" he asked. He pushed it in her face, so close, it was blurred. She shook her head. "I don't suppose you do, though she remembers you alright. You expelled her from college, when she got pregnant," he said, with quiet ferocity.

Anne realised now, remembered the girl, and this was her brother. It fell into place what she was doing in hospital; giving birth. She covered her mouth with a fist. Unable to say anything that would make sense to this young guy. 

"So you can be controlled by that implant?" he asked.

"Yes," she murmured, and immediately regretted the honest answer. The habit of obedience was difficult to shake off, despite it being inactive. 

"Then you will obey me!" he stated. Seeing her slowly nod he relaxed a little. "What do you do?" he demanded, still sounding angry, making it an aggressive order. 

Anne was relieved. He didn't realise it had to be activated! She was safe but would have to be careful. He was very protective of his sister and he saw Jean's hurt as being her fault.

"I am your sexy maid, sir, or sex android, or sex slave, or your sexy slut, sir," she said. The usual list of games, available under the influence of the implant, was recited before it could be suppressed. Highly embarrassed from the vile litany her voice trailed off into a murmur. At least she had only recited the first page.

"These are the games you played with your uncle?" he said, in astonishment. Seeing her dolefully nod he added. "I was right, you are a slut. Why else would you have such an implant," he said, in disgust.

"Well! You need to be taught a lesson, professor. You treated my sister with contempt and I'm going to do the say to you," he said. "You're going to be my maid. That will do to start with," he stated.

He hadn't realised the implant needed activating. Anne still felt terribly vulnerable, from his evident anger. At least she didn't have to obey him like an obedient android. "I'm sorry about your sister. The rules had to be enforced," she cut off the explanation, seeing him angered by what he thought of as excuses. 

"I told you, you obey my rules now," he shouted at her. 

"Yes, sir, sorry sir," she automatically reacted to the outburst.

"Bend over that chair," he demanded, pointing at an old stuffed armchair. 

Without a word she stepped to it and bent over. For two weeks she had obeyed orders, so it seemed difficult to break the habit, even though she was now free to decide her own actions. "Please, sir, don't hurt me," she whined. 

He slapped her ass a stinging blow. "I'm sorry, sir, I'll be a good little maid, honest," she chirruped. Her voice sounded like a cartoon chipmunks. It sank in that she was still under the influence of the maid game, despite the damn implant being switched off. At least she had some control over her actions, if only he could be diverted, she might wrestle free from it.

A few slaps to her bottom must have hurt his hand as much as her bottom stung, for he stopped. 

"Stand up! So how does the important university professor feel now? You deserved a spanking from what I heard about you from Jean. You're a stuck-up bitch on campus, yet you cavort around with your uncle. It doesn't make sense," he stated.

"I'm sorry, sir, thank you for spanking me. I deserved to be punished," the game had her recite. It even seemed appropriate after what he said. 

"You really are into this naughty game thing after all. What should I do with you?" he mused.

"Please, sir, send me home. You don't need to humiliate me. I've been treated badly for too long. I need to get home where I'll be safe from all this," she whined. 

"So what about my sister?" he asked.

"I don't know," she answered honestly.

"Then you can stay here as my maid until you can think of something. No more whining. Get used to obeying me. How does it feel to lose your dignity important professor?" he sneered.

"Terrible! I feel so bad, so small and insignificant, like a humble maid. I promise to behave, honest," Anne stated. She remembered John telling her to behave, and wondered if that had anything to do with this horrendous capitulation to the young man. Little did he know she had lost her dignity well before this, and had been treated far worse, more than he could imagine. 

She should have tried to assert herself but his anger had kept her submissive. Now he had spanked her like a naughty, disrespectful maid, the game program had been given full reign in her mind. It seemed those damn games had been programmed into her, more than she thought possible.

"Please, sir, return me home or to my uncle. I beg you, please sir," she groaned, as though in pain. On second thoughts returning to Uncle John might not be such a good idea. 

She had been warned by the surgeon not to use the implant for too long and now she knew how heavily it had influenced her thinking. She was susceptible to anyone who summoned up one of the games even without the implant being active. 

"You plead well, but it's not good enough. You need to be punished after what you did to my sister," he said.

"I'm sorry. I really am. I will try to think of something to help your sister, just let me go home, please," she gushed, in a girly voice. Anne was desperate to get home away from here and her uncle. At least she had the ability to talk, outside of the game rules, while the implant was inactive.

"After what my sister went through you need to make amends, to serve some time doing it, far longer than a few minutes of humiliation from a spanking. So what am I to do with you next?" he asked. This time it wasn't a thought spoken out loud, it was a question, forcefully directed at her.

Automatically, under the overpowering influence of the game, she answered. "Anything you like, sir. I am your sexy little maid, pleased to fulfil your every wish," she moaned, while quivering with shame.



Human Android Ch. 08



Chapter 08

The professor becomes a giggly bimbo

Anne was well and truly in trouble. She was a successful career woman, a professor in a prodigious university and head of a department, yet she had found herself in a stupid situation. A young man, Richard, was determined to take revenge on her, after she had expelled his sister from the university.

It all started when playing games in the bedroom, with her husband, using a brain implant to enhance the naughty roles he liked. When it was switched on she could just give into the rules it set up in her mind, playing at being his maid, a slut, a sex-droid, and many other sexy roles. 

It was partly her fault, together with accidental circumstances, that led to the implant being activated for too long. She had been warned by the surgeon not to use the implant for more than an hour at a time, yet inadvertently it had been switched on for many hours, during the last few days. Even with it switched off, she was now compulsively playing the games, compelled to perform the naughty roles, however hard she tried to avoid them.

Richard found out she was controlled by an implant and told her to obey him. She had responded by telling him she was his sexy maid, and worst of all, she would be pleased to fulfill his every wish. Anne cringed in an agony of humiliation, from having to recite such demeaning words to this young man. He was a complete stranger, yet it seemed she was duty-bound to obey him, while playing out the demeaning role of a sexy maid.

He had already told her he was going to make her pay, for the hurt she caused to his sister, and this helplessness was playing right into his hands. When he was finished degrading her, she would be returned to Uncle John, and he had already used her in a far more demeaning way, than this young man could ever imagine. 

"A maid? That sounds good. The important professor reduced to being a humble maid. You can start the punishment for what you did to Jean by cleaning up her room. Let's see how clever you are now, professor maid," Richard sneered.

"Yes, sir," she replied. This wasn't what she expected, so maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all. After the dire humiliations of the last few days, this would be easy to cope with. He was only just eighteen, a year younger than his sister, so maybe he was sexually inexperienced.

"Don't get those clothes dirty or John will find out what you've been doing here. Change out of those slutty clothes and I'll get you something more appropriate to your lowly role, maid," he said, relishing the idea of ordering around an older woman, as his maid.

Richard came back to Jean's room, with an old shapeless overall his mother used, and just stood in the doorway, gaping at her. So overtaken with the role of a sexy maid, Anne had stripped off, ready for a new outfit. She stood completely naked, waiting for him, with her clothes neatly folded on a chair. 

"Damn! Those tits are big!" he gasped. "You've shaved down there too," he added. He had meant for her to wait while he fetched the overall. This was a pleasant surprise and showed how much she was under the influence of the role as a sexy maid.

Anne felt belittled from this honest expression of amazement. The imbedded game play had her responding to it before she had a chance to resist. She looked toward him with lowered eyes, unable to look him in the eye, not just acting but feeling like his humble, sexy little maid. 

"Maybe you don't need this after all. You can always take a shower afterwards, if you get dirty. Though it looks as though it'll take more than a shower to wash off the look of a dirty bitch on heat," he scolded her.

He had started out being mean to her, as a way of punishing her, but the tone of voice was changing. He sounded husky, and looking down, she could see he was responding to her naked body. At least in this role she was passive. As a slut, she would be actively seeking his cock.

"Get on with it then," Richard ordered.

"Yes, sir, thank you sir," Anne responded. It was awful, to be replying so pathetically to this young man. The order to clean up the room, and his domineering attitude, all worked toward pushing her deeper into the humble role. She couldn't avoid bending over the bed to straighten it, and picking up dirty dishes from the floor. 

If she could have bent in a more subtle way, it would have helped preserve her dignity. The game rules had her bending over before him, in a straight leg bend, with them parted. The rules were well and truly planted in her head, forcing her to be his sexy maid, showing off her sex to him.

It wouldn't have been so bad wearing a sexy costume, for at least her sex would have been covered. While naked, it was terribly humiliating, and that was turning her on. He was casually leaning against the door frame, unsubtly staring at her every move. She could feel his eyes roving between her legs. Even he would be able to understand the effect this was having upon her.

Bent over a low coffee table, she scrubbed at the marks left by abandoned slices of pizza. Her breasts jiggled under her, and she couldn't help wiggling her bottom at him. She knew he would be able to see her glistening sex, opening up, ready for him to make use of. 

That was a terrible thought! It was humbling to even think like that, but she had to acknowledge the fact, her body was ready and awaiting his use. The sexual tension was growing by the minute. She was almost regretting not being his slut. At least then she could tease and cajole him into taking her. Just waiting for him to make the inevitable move was agonizing. 

All she could think of was taking this young strangers cock, with all her inhibitions liberated, abolished by the deeply imbedded rules of the game. Her mind was flooded with arousal, as much as her pussy was sopping with sex juices. She couldn't help moving her body around the room, exposing her sex, in the most indelicate provocation, taunting him, wanting him.

"No wonder you were dressed like a slut, you are a slut," Richard commented, with a derisory smile. "It's difficult to imagine you as an important professor at that university," he told her.

For a short moment Anne cringed from the implications of those dreadful words; he had called her a slut. She was a university professor, yet he had just invoked a damnable game role that was impossible to defy. She was so worked up already, there was no way to resist or even beg for release. There was only one form of release she wanted now. 

She turned her head toward him looking over her shoulder, giving him a sultry look, with hooded eyes and pouting lips. "Yes! I'm a slut, your slut," Anne replied in a whispery voice, soaked in sexual desire.

She felt his presence, close behind her, and automatically bent over the bed, raising her ass to him. "Please, no, you mustn't," she whispered. "I'm not a, not a, I'm a slut," she whimpered. 

She felt his cock tap her bottom, and Anne moaned a long painful sound. "I'm just a slut on heat, take me," she said, trying to suppress the words, yet releasing them through gritted teeth.

She felt his cock maneuvering between her cheeks, inexpertly trying to find her sex. The red hot cock seemed to burn over her lips as it stroked them. The hardness she wanted just skimmed over the wet lips, sawing back and forth, as though teasing her. 

She wriggled her bottom, trying to maneuver him into place, but their timing was wrong. He was too inexperienced to just force is way in, and the tentative stabs at her wet hole, were frustratingly missing the target.

"Please, sir, please fuck me. Your slut needs a cock. You're slut needs filling, please fuck me, now!" Anne demanded. She heard the words, as though they were from someone else, someone so very depraved. How could she say such dreadful things? 

At last he grabbed a hold of her hips, held her still, and thrust in. Animal lust engulfed her. She lifted her head and cried out. "Yes! Oh! Yes, thank you, sir," she cried out. She pushed back, strongly engulfing his hard cock, gripping it with strong muscles. 

"I'm a good slut, a well taught slut. Fill your slut with cum, please, sir," Anne begged. A small part of her mind remembered who she was, adding to the humiliation. The rules of the game thoroughly gripped her mind, letting her play out the role of a slut, to a well practiced perfection. 

He gripped her hips tight and thrust in, working on her with solid, strong, thumps of his hips against her soft cheeks. His youthful energy kept him working on her vagina, with vigorous strokes. He held her still, making her accept his rhythm, as though he were just using her hole for his sexual pleasure. 

"Use your slut, fuck your slut!" she yelled, with a wild abandon, shaking her head from side to side. 

She became silent as an orgasm crept upon her. Her head rocked up and down with his now steady thrusts. She felt every movement inside, moving deep into her body. In one last plunge he lifted her feet off the floor, holding her there, with his strong stiff cock, buried deep inside her vagina.

She felt it spasm, imagining it spurting fluid deep inside, filling her up with young vigorous sperm. "Fill your slut up, make your slut all yours," she yelled. 

As he shrunk inside her, they collapsed onto the bed. She rolled him off her, onto his back. She moved down his sweaty body, with kisses and licks, all the way down to his flaccid cock. With a strong suction she had him in her mouth, all of it, right down to his balls. Pulling at his cock, and running her tongue around it, she cleaned it. She sucked every last drop from his sack. 

Soon he was clean and the task was over. Anne felt the game ending too, releasing her from its overpowering control. Her head flopped onto his hard, flat stomach. She felt sated and guilty. A few days ago she would have been frightened, with this dire condition threatening her life. After such abuse she had become used to it and so, felt a great relief that it was over, for the moment.

"Please, just let me go," she mumbled. "You've humiliated me, isn't that punishment enough?" she raised her head, looking him in the eye. 

"You wanted it! I don't call that humiliation. You begged me to fuck you," he told her.

"That's what I mean," she quickly returned, with an earnest expression.

"I might take you back to John," he began. 

"No! Please, let me just go home, please," she begged.

"Why? What's wrong with John, what will he do to you?" he asked.

"Bad things, I can't tell you," she shuddered.

"What did you do before then? You seem to have had a lot of practice," he teased. He took her chin in one hand to look her in the eye. "Perhaps I should make you my sex slave, you'll tell me then," he said.

Anne gasped. "No! Please don't. I'll tell you whatever you want," she said, recoiling from him. 

The maid game finished when dismissed or the task was completed. The slut game finished when they both completed an orgasm. The slave game wouldn't end until he pretended to sell her, or set her free. He could keep her playing along, as his obedient sex slave, until she was completely subsumed into the role. 

Would he ever set free, an obedient slave girl, pandering to his every whim? If she dared ask him to sell her, to end the dreadful game, would he actually do it rather than pretend. 

"Tell me then," he demanded. He grabbed her face in his hands forcing her to look at him, so as to judge the truth of her sordid tale. 

"It happened by accident. I wore an android suit and became a student's sex-droid. At a party a student took me to a bedroom, where he and his friends, used me. Then they made me lick a girl, down there, until she had an orgasm," Anne spoke in an agony of guilt. The recounting of it reminded her how deeply immoral her life had become, and would continue, if she didn't win him round and escape. 

"What game are you playing now?" he asked.

"I'm not. The game is over," she stated, hoping he wouldn't invoke another. 

"Perhaps I might try another," Richard said.

"Please, just let me go. I need a rest from the last few terrible days. I need to get back to normal," she pleaded.

"Perhaps the great and mighty important professor needs to be brought down a little more. You've been such a naughty girl," he taunted her.

Anne hung her head in shame, knowing it was an understatement, that she had been a very bad girl. She had been completely debauched. 

Richard slapped her bare ass. "Look at me," he demanded. "I was thinking of making you into a bimbo, an airhead. You could dye your hair blond and paint your toe nails bright red. What a way to look, and behave, for a professor. A perfect revenge, don't you think?" he laughed.

Anne was about to shout at him, for her mind had recovered from the game, releasing her from his control. A sudden memory brought forth a gasp of anguish. She had pushed it into the back of her mind, though not so much from what happened. It was from what might have happened. Her husband had instigated the bimbo game one weekend, for the first and last time.

***

Anne was in the kitchen fetching a drink for her husband, when there was a knock at back door. A young delivery guy stood staring at her. 

"I have a package for Professor, err," he said. Joe needed to look at the name on the package, but he couldn't take his eyes from the girl standing before him. She was wearing a micro mini skirt, and a blouse, tied under a massive pair of tits. They were straining at the fabric, threatening to burst free. 

Standing on the bottom step, his eyes were level with the enormous tits, and as much as he tried, he couldn't look down at the label for the professor's name. 

"She's not here right now, can you leave it with me," Anne asked him. 

The silly squeaky voice was annoying, but it was a part of the game, therefore, beyond her control. The statement was partly true, for the implant was active, and she was no longer an intelligent professor. She was acting the part of a dumb blond bimbo. Her hair was a temporary blond, teased into a halo of gold around her head. She looked down at him with a cute smile on her face. 

"I could take the package for the proff," Anne giggled. She hated behaving this way before a stranger, but it didn't really matter, for he would soon be on his way.

Joe quickly recovered, for he was used to lonely women at home, inviting him in for a cool drink. From the sight of this vision of sex on legs, he knew only one thing would cool him down. "I need to get a signature," he lied.

"Do you have a pen? I haven't got one on me," she said, patting down her body, as though a small pen could be hidden, in such a slight outfit.

"No," he lied. "I'll wait while you get one," he suggested.

"OK." she said, with a little girly giggle, and turned to find one.

Joe stepped in behind her. He could feel his cock gagging for it, and reminded himself to stay calm. He was used to letting the woman of the house seduce him, with a little friendly help. 

Anne cursed on seeing him enter the kitchen. He was in her home, making him a part of the game. While he was outside the stupid little girly could keep him at arms length and she could at least protect her from trouble. The control Anne had over the game-play was drastically reduced, as it configured this ruffian into it.

Anne went through draws, in a panic, trying to find a pen. They had played games for a few months, though never before had someone caught them at it. She was trapped in the role of a dumb blond and was finding it difficult to think straight. She needed someone to think for her, to tell her what to do.

That was exactly what the rules of the game demanded and why her husband would enjoy it, though right now, it was embarrassing. As a blonde bimbo she had to be sexy too, which was dangerous, in the presence of this stranger. She needed to find a damn pen and quickly get rid of him.

"What about the cupboards down there, could be a pen in one of them," Joe suggested. 

"OK." She giggled. Damn it! The silly bitch that controlled her behavior was too stupid to realize what he was doing to her. The program in her mind had configured the game to include him.

He stood watching her bend over, pushing her head into one cupboard after another. The little skirt hid nothing of her transparent panties, as she wiggled her heart shaped ass around. She was bent over moving things around, as though there might be a pen among the cleaning products.

Anne could feel the little skirt ride up, but couldn't do anything about it. It was all a part of the game. She meant to stand up and banged her head on the cupboard. She put a finger to her pouting lips and struck a cute, girly pose. 

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm such a silly head. I don't know where the professor keeps anything," she cooed. It was getting worse by the second. She was calling him sir, which meant he had become the object of the stupid bitch's attention. 

"That's OK. You can get me a coke, while I wait," he told her, with a big grin.

She just stood there looking confused and embarrassed. "In the fridge," he told her and pointed.

"Oh! Yes of course, sir," she spluttered. Anne felt so embarrassed, leaving her even more confused and feeling more stupid than ever, pushing her further into game. It left her with even less control over the pathetic girl that was controlling her.

She cradled two cans in her arms nearly dropping them, so pressed them firmly against her breasts. 

"Which one would you like, sir," she asked. 

He was much younger than her, about twenty-one, yet she couldn't stop calling him sir. It made her feel all the more embarrassed and useless. It was galling knowing the longer this carried on, the deeper the implant gained control, pushing her further into the role of a dumb blonde. 

"Which one is colder?" he asked. She looked at him with a blank expression.

He put his hands around the two cans, while she still clutched them to her breasts. Joe felt her hard nipples, either from the cold or excitement. Though it was difficult to tell, he thought she looked hot. When she gazed up at him through long eyelashes, without complaining about him touching her nipples, he knew it was from arousal.

He took the two cans from her and only just refrained from gasping out loud. The blouse was wet and see-through. She wasn't wearing a bra. The hard nipples were pointing at him as though he had been chosen, and he knew what for. 

Anne tried to remind herself she was a professor at the university, a responsible and respectable woman, not a silly little airhead of a girl. She looked down at her breasts, seeing them on show to this common delivery guy. She wanted to shout at him, instead she giggled. The pathetic sound was too much to bear and she withdrew into the role a little further. 

"Oh! I'm sorry, sir," she giggled, and put a garishly painted finger nail, between a pair of luscious lips. She looked up at him through long eyelashes. "I'm so naughty, I can't help myself. I'm always doing silly things," she said, in a little girly voice.

Joe looked at her mistakenly assessing she was around his age. She was dressed like a slut and she acted like one. Undoubtedly she was a dumb blonde and looked so very hot. She swung her hips from side to side giving him such a sultry look it was obvious, she was aroused. She wanted it and he was prepared to give her what she wanted. 

He had seduced many a lonely housewife so knew to take it slow, not to just dive in, or they would shy off at the last moment. It would leave him frustrated, though there were some that wanted just that. This was no housewife though, and she was giving him all the right signs. 

"What are you doing here?" he asked. 

"Err. I'm just looking after the house, for the professor, while she's out," Anne said, on a spur of the moment, while the dumb bitch was wondering what to say. The last thing she wanted was to reveal she was Professor Draper, while showing off her body so lewdly.




Human Android Ch. 08



"You can't go around like that, you naughty girl," Joe told her, with a big smile. 

He pulled from his back pocket a red handkerchief, one he used to clean himself up after an impromptu session with a wiling housewife. He started to rub her breasts with it, pretending to dry them off. He held one in the palm of his hand, rubbing it, while particularly concentrating on a nipple.

Her eyes opened wide in shock, though she couldn't bring herself to say a word of protest. What does a professor say while a stranger rubs her erect nipples? She moaned a light, breathy sigh.

"You're hot, you want it, don't you," Joe told her.

"No. Please, you mustn't," she sighed, making the words sound like a lie.

She felt his hand cup her sex. She suddenly became aware of how wet her panties were and felt so very vulnerable. In the small pair of see-through panties she had flaunted her sex at him, now he was helping himself to it! 

It wasn't her fault it was the damn implant, leaving her so ready to play up to a stranger. In her own home, this young guy had her helplessly worked up, ready for him, and there was nothing she could do to stop him taking her.

"You're wet and ready for it. Tell me," he demanded. 

"I'm wet and ready for it," she whimpered. Anne knew how little control was left now. The sexy bimbo was in charge. All she could do was try to divert the game away from its inevitable conclusion, and hope for a rescue from this terrible situation.

"Ready for what?" he demanded again.

"I'm ready for it. I'm ready for a good fucking," she gasped. Inwardly she yelled, not knowing if it was for release from the implant, or release from this callous male, or from the pent up sexual arousal. It was an agony of humiliation that this stranger had entered her home, and was ready to enter her.

Joe stood back from her, watching her sway, almost in a swoon from being so worked up. She was no housewife she was a perfect young woman. He didn't want just a quick fuck he wanted to take his time with her. Joe wanted to take her home and see how horny he could make her, before she begged to be fucked. 

He took a hold of her hand. "This was my last delivery so you can come home with me. I'll give you want you need. I'll fuck you all night long," he told her, with a big confident grin.

"Yes, I need a good hard fucking," she replied, with a whispery little voice. She cringed from the words, knowing full well he could take her.

"What's going on here?" William said. He thought he heard voices in the kitchen and came through to find out what was happening. He had to get dressed otherwise he would have been there earlier, to see what was holding up Anne fetching his drink.

Joe looked startled for a moment, though previous experience, of nearly being caught by a husband, had him quickly thinking. 

"A package for the professor," he explained, pointing to it on the table.

William looked at his wife and wondered what to say. Her blouse was wet and the top button had popped open, revealing a deep cleavage. Her nipples were pushing out accusingly at him, as though it were his fault. She would be furious with him when released from the implant.

It was obvious something had been going on here, though he had arrived in time to stop it going too far. 

"As she's not here you can sign for it," Joe said, trying to divert the man from the obvious conclusions. Give someone something to do and they had an excuse to avoid what might be an unpleasant scene. It always worked.

William was relieved this young guy hadn't realized the bimbo was his wife. She would still give him a hard time, though the damage had been caught before it went too far. No nasty rumors would be spread around campus, which was the main thing. He signed the piece of paper and looked at the guy, expecting him to leave without a tip.

After all, he had been mauling his wife's breasts, what else did he want. 

"You don't need to house sit, now the professor's husband is here," Joe said. He took a hold of her hand, and pulled Anne toward the door.

William watched them with a look of stunned surprise on his face. "Where are you going?" he asked his wife.

"I'm giving her a lift home," Joe replied for her. 

"She's my, I mean she lives," he started to say, only to realize he couldn't reveal the truth. He was used to thinking on his feet, though this was a difficult situation. They were at the door before he could think of anything at all. He watched, stunned, while the young guy open the door. The delivery guy was taking his wife off somewhere, with obvious intentions. 

She was already in a deep state of arousal and the implant would leave her compelled to behave like a stupid bimbo. This was where she lived, so she would be confused, in the role of a stupid airhead, if he bothered to ask her where she lived. He had probably already made up his mind to take her to his apartment.

The idea of her being in this guy's apartment, compelled to act out the role of a dim-witted bimbo, easily aroused, willing to do all the dirty things she had learnt recently, was appalling. The guy would revel in having a sexy, big breasted blonde, complying with his every whim. The coarse youth would be fucking his wife's brains out, every moment he could manage. 

Anne couldn't bear to look at her husband. The stare he gave her, on entering the kitchen, said it all. Her look of arousal was plain enough, and the disheveled state of her clothes, revealed what had happened. Surely he would stop this young guy dragging her off to wherever he wanted. It was obvious what his attentions were, and he looked athletic enough to make it an Olympic sport.

He wouldn't know the implant needed to be switched off before it damaged her mind. With it working away at her thoughts, hour after hour, she would soon become a willing sex toy. She would be corrupted, from an intelligent professor, into a mindless bimbo. How long would it take for her to become, a mere appendage, to this young ruff-neck's cock? When that happened, he would surely keep her as his pleasure toy, for some time to come.

"Wait!" William exclaimed. 

The young delivery guy turned toward him, with a challenging look. The young stranger still gripped his wife's hand, ready to tug her out the door and away with him. She was incapable of resisting, as the game rules had her dependent upon someone else thinking for her, telling her what to do. 

"The necklace! You forgot the necklace promised to you, the pretty one you like," William said, making it up as he went along.

"Oh! Yes, I like jewelry," she cooed, with a bright smile on her face. "Is it sparkly, like diamonds?" she asked. 

"Yes, it is, it won't take a second, I'll fetch it," William told them both. He tried to look casual as though it didn't bother him either way.

"Please, sir, let me have the sparkly necklace. I'll be a good girl then and do whatever you say," she promised Joe. She looked up at him, full of bright, bouncy expectancy. 

"Alright, I guess so, if you're quick about it," Joe conceded. It seemed he was getting what he wanted, to take this little sex kitten away with him, so a moments delay wouldn't matter. "I'll trade you the panties for the necklace," he joked. 

"Oh! Well, I'm not sure," she said, over a finger in her mouth, looking as though she were straining a brain cell. 

He had only been joking but the seriousness of her face pushed him on. "Perhaps we don't need to wait, I'm in a hurry," he said. He was in a hurry to get her away and into her panties.

Anne guessed what her husband was up to and needed to gain time. On the verge of being dragged away by this stranger, she had to do something. "Oh! Please wait, I need the pretty necklace," she whined. Lifting a leg, she balanced, with a hand on his shoulder. 

William heard the ruffian mention something about his wife panties, as he hurried from the kitchen. Timing was important, but he couldn't help turning, to see his wife's reaction. From the doorway he watched her pull at her panties from under the short skirt. They fell down her legs, pooling around her high heels. As she stepped out of them, the guy scooped them up into his pocket. 

William watched him pull her close to deeply kiss her. The young guy was grinding his cock against Anne's belly, holding her against it, with both hands on his wife's bare ass. She started to respond, by rubbing herself against the guys cock, kissing him back with her tongue wrapped around his.

Any of the neighbors could have seen her, looking as though they were having sex in the open doorway. She had to keep him here somehow, as long as possible, doing what ever it took to distract him. It was agonizing knowing she was pushing herself deeper into the role-play. She wished fervently for her husband to quickly return and save her.

"When I get you home, I'm going to fuck your brains out, you dumb fuck," he whispered in her ear. 

She felt him pulling her further out the door, and she panicked, for her husband hadn't returned yet. 

"Please wait, please, sir. I'll suck your cock so well it will be worth waiting for, honest, sir," she pleaded. Feeling him hesitate, she ploughed on, carving a deeper role for herself, as his dumb fuck.

"I'll be a good little fuck toy, sir. I'll ride your cock. I'll do anything you like, anything, fuck me all the time, anytime you want, any way you want," she moaned. It was a dire humiliation saying such dreadful words to a stranger. She also knew it was true, for now she had committed to a promise. Under the game rules it would be impossible to avoid the commitment. 

The horrendous idea of him taking her away, of becoming his earnest fuck toy, was so much more real. The arousal was impossible to control otherwise she wouldn't dare utter such degrading words. The promise to do what ever he wanted was partly from arousal and partly from needing to delay him. She realized too late, the promise had been made, so she really was his little mindless fuck toy.

William turned up the jewelry box, scattering items over the bed, trying to sort through what he needed. In seconds it was found, though it seemed an age before he got back to the kitchen. He could see how far she was under the influence of the implant, and how far the guy was under the influence of his cock. 

"Here it is," he said, trying to sound casual. "It's a difficult catch, let me put it on you," William offered.

Joe was confident of his prowess over this latest conquest. He grabbed her elbows to turn her around. He let go of her for William to place the necklace around her neck. 

When she lifted her hair from around her neck, he pressed upon the soft flesh. The implant was neutralized, though it would take a little while before its influence was cleared from her mind. William now had a hold of her and turned her around to face him. 

"You need the earrings to go with this," he said. 

"Oh! Yes, please, sir," she cooed. 

"Go look at the way it glitters, in a mirror," William told her, knowing there wasn't one in the kitchen. He didn't watch her skitter off to find a mirror, as he kept his gaze leveled at the delivery guy, hovering in the doorway. William's face was a mask of anger and relief. 

"My niece won't be going out this afternoon. She's got things to do," he said, with a sound of menace, stopping the guy from complaining.

Joe shrugged his shoulders. It had been too easy anyway, he thought. He rationalized he preferred more of a challenge. 

William watched him saunter off and sighed with relief. 

Anne stumbled into the bedroom and fell onto the bed. She turned over with the little skirt up around her waist and opened her legs. The liberating feeling of not wearing panties let her hold the pose, ready for when her husband came to her. 

The implant was off and she was recovering from its influence, though not the arousal of the last few, very long minutes. Knowing that young guy had nearly taken her, that he had mauled her body, was exciting. He had walked off with her panties in his pocket, as a tip. That thought too, was pushing her toward a deep need.

***

"Anne! Anne, are you all right?" Richard asked, looking concerned.

Anne grabbed his hair in two fists and shook his head. "You bastard! You took advantage of me. It wasn't for your sister, you just wanted me and took me, while I was helpless," she accused him.

"You better not try to make me into your bimbo. I'll fight you off, you bastard. Try it on now, why don't you, while I'm me, not some sex toy," she warned him.

"I didn't mean, I'm sorry," he blurted out, while she shook him. Used to play fighting with his sister, he easily pushed her off and held her down. 

Anne was still naked, and after remembering that day in her kitchen, she was deeply aroused. Breathing heavily from exertion, she looked up at him. He was holding her down, and she was helpless under his weight.

She became aware of her nakedness, on a bed and of being aroused. She no longer had a husband and this young man had already taken her, so what was there to lose? He knew who she was. 

"So why don't you?" she challenged. 

He looked at her quizzically, not understanding she was aroused, thinking she was still angry.

After all the times she had been taken, while helpless, she needed to assert her own sexual needs. Though they had been satisfied, more than satisfied, she needed to do it from free will. The thought that it might be a shadow of the game, still working upon her mind, was dismissed.

"Well? Can't you do it? Don't you want to fuck a university professor? Am I too old?" she said, sounding less aggressive and more plaintive.

She watched him lean over her breasts and suck on a nipple. He worked it with lips then nipped it with his teeth. The other one got the treatment too. Relentlessly he sucked and nibbled on her engorged teats. They felt ready to burst. Trembling little shocks were tumbling from them into her stomach, stoking up an already aroused body.

"Fuck me, you bastard, just fuck me," she said, lifting her hips in search of his manhood. She remembered how good it felt and needed it all the more. 

"Stick it in me. Fuck the professor, stab the professor's cunt, you bastard," she yelled at him. "Split me in two, ram your cock in my cunt," she shouted at him.

"Oh! Yes! Yes! Pierce me, take me, it's my cunt, you can have my cunt you shitty bastard, just fuck me hard. Ram it in, all the way, that's it, ride me hard, you little shit," she yelled, as though in pain.

Her hips leaped up at him, pushing hard on his cock, hitting his hips forcefully. He held onto her shoulders unable to support his weight with his arms, as she acted like a bucking bronco under him. If he didn't hold on, he would have been thrown off, she was so wild.

"I'm nearly there, keep going, keep fucking me," she whined, while completely still. 

He carried on, keeping to the rhythm she had built up, slamming hard into her vagina, with all his strength. He felt her inner muscles tightening, flexing upon his cock. He was straining, holding back from an orgasm. 

"Oh! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I'm there. Cum in me you bastard, fill me up with your cum. Fill me up with your young cream. Do me, do me now!" she cried out.

Richard arched his back pushing hard and deeply as he could. He held his red hot cock inside her, feeling every drop of sperm spurt from the head of his cock. It throbbed and he felt her muscles flexing on it, as though milking his balls dry. 

He had been silent throughout, now he let rip an animal cry of success, of victory over a vanquished enemy. He felt as though he had conquered the world. He had taken this important woman, made her submit to his powerful cock.

She wasn't finished yet. She slithered down the bed under him to find his cock. She sucked it into her mouth. "I want it all, it's all mine. Your sperm in my cunt, your sperm in my belly, its all mine," she said, from around his cock.

She sucked and sucked until it was dry. She licked his balls and his crotch then made her way back up his body, with a worn out tongue, and an aching jaw. She pushed herself up the bed, and drew his head onto her breasts. 

"Suck them, bite them," she told him. 

As exhausted as he was he managed to comply. She gathered up his leg between her thighs and squeezed it onto her pussy. She rubbed her sopping lips on his leg and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing her breasts onto his face. 

Eventually they surfaced from a primitive state, as though emerging onto dry land from the ocean. They were primitive sea creatures, evolving into mammals, ready to face a new life. Their eyes blinked and gaped in the dark room, trying to focus on what had happened to them.

For a long time they just lay in each others arms, cuddling contentedly. 

"I could arrange for a crèche to be started," Anne whispered.

"What?" Richard croaked, from a dry throat. 

"It's where children, babies as well, can be cared for while the staff are working. Students could use it too. Your sister could return to university," she mused, while ruffling his hair with a fingernail. 

"Could you do that?" he asked.

"Of course I could. I'm an important university professor with a fearsome reputation. The committee dare not get in my way. I've got a big budget, as well as a big pair of tits," she laughed. 

She pushed his face into her breasts watching him suck on them. "You could have a job there if you want," she told him. 

"In a crèche?" he asked, then went back to sucking, trying to get as much of a breast in his mouth as possible. 

"I was thinking of making you my personal suck toy. If you can do as well as this on my cunt, you've got the job. Think of this as an interview. Though, it might be fun to line up a few applicants. I could clear my desk - it's nicely padded with leather - and lay back, to let the students compete for the job. There's a lot of big young men back there," she mused. 

"What did you say?" he asked, while both breasts covered his ears.

"Never mind, just day dreaming. By the way, talking of back there, you have a finger in the wrong hole. Whoa! Maybe not! Keep wriggling your finger just like that. Oh! Nice! Move your thumb over a bit. That's it! Good boy, you've found my clit. Oh! That is so very nice. Full marks to the young man, with his finger up teachers' ass," Anne sighed.

"What a pleasant way to spend an evening, I could get very used to this," she sighed again.



Human Android Ch. 09



Rebecca was worried about her mother. It wasn't so much that she was dressing so differently, it was the way she behaved. She put it down to her father's disappearance, leaving them both so unexpectedly for another woman. It seemed her mother had become a recluse, not leaving the house at all, since returning from Uncle John's house.

Anne had been so jumpy after arriving home she cleaned the whole house, from top to bottom. It did no good though, for she needed something, yet not daring to think what it was. There was a hole in her life since her husband had left. More considerable was the influence of the mind implant. She had become so used to uninhibited sex, she was suffering withdrawal symptoms. 

Although the implant was switched off, it was annoying knowing the implant was still influencing her behavior. After having it switched on for too long, the damn thing had left its mark in her mind. There was a slight chance someone might say a trigger word and accidently force her into a naughty role play. It was worrying, knowing the game rules were there, waiting to be called up by someone. 

She avoided Larry, a young student who knew all about the problem, just in case he invoked a sexy role for her to play. 

The chance of having the implant activated was remote yet it was so frightening to contemplate, she hadn't left the house. It had been activated by accidently pressing the back of her head, and that led to a calamitous situation. Soon the surgeon would be back on campus and the damn implant could be removed. Only then could she begin to regain her life, without the danger of being under its control. 

As an important faculty member and professor of business studies, it was unlikely someone would call her a slut or a maid. There were other game rules that had been laid down in her mind, but it was unlikely they would be triggered. If someone told her she was their maid that game would be triggered, forcing her to abide by its rules. They were that imbedded in her mind, she would have little choice, and have to act out the role. 

Perhaps if she was able to assuage the damn urges, she might be able to relax and get through this difficult time. With this idea nagging at her, knowing she would have to be careful, she gathered up enough courage to leave the house.

Anne strode out wearing a skirt cut just above the knee, with a nice white blouse and a pair of sensible, comfortable panties. She had been forced to wear such slutty clothes recently the outfit seemed conservative. She had tried to wear something more appropriate for a responsible professor, yet failed to find comfort in the usual dowdy outfits. 

The influence of the implant, over the past couple of weeks, had left its mark more than she realized. It was a need for sexual satisfaction was this that was driving her out of the house. At least she hadn't dressed in a particularly provocative role playing outfit. It could have been worse. She could have been on campus wearing a saucy French maid outfit, or going out looking like a complete slut. 

Hoping off the campus free bus, she jumped on a city transport bus. With the students, and most of the faculty away, it was easy to get a seat. Anne wanted to visit a mall some miles distant, away from prying eyes. There was always a busybody ready to catch a person out, and turn it into horrid gossip.

Anne hoped off the bus and walked into an auto-cafe for a coffee. There was no one there, which suited her fine. Crossing and uncrossing her legs, with nervous energy, she decided the coast was clear.

A short walk brought her to a run down store, looking a little seedy, suiting her purpose perfectly. The store was easy to find, as most of the stores were boarded up. Even this one looked closed, because there was no display in the window; only to be expected under the circumstances. 

Entering a sex shop a couple of weeks ago would have been embarrassing. A professor, and important faculty member, just doesn't do that sort of thing. Seeing the garishly displayed outfits and toys, arrayed around the walls and in display cabinets, gave her a thrill. This is what she had come for. She needed something to satisfy the growing, demanding urge. She needed a vibrator. 

"Hi, how can I help you today?" the assistant asked. She had a big artificial smile on her face. Obviously put on for customers. 

"I'm looking for a vibrator," Anne said. The hesitation in her voice was uncharacteristic, for she had always been so sure of herself. Here, in this unfamiliar place, she needed help; not knowing what to ask for and from feeling uncomfortable. 

"Anal or vagina?" the young woman asked. It wasn't a sneering tone of voice rather, the enquiry was professional. 

Anne felt somewhat reassured. "Perhaps, both?" she replied.

"I'm July. I can show you lots of great products. Do you have a preference, anything in mind?" July asked. "No. Well that's OK. I can help you, we're quiet at the moment," she smiled.

Anne was in a daze from the choices of sizes, shapes and colors. There were manually operated and battery operated, for inside stimulation, or clit stimulation. Then there were the substances, such as hard plastic, rubber, gel filled, and so many more. 

"This is my favorite, do you want to try it? You'll have to pay for it though," July encouraged. "Go on, don't be shy," she giggled.

"No! I couldn't, I mean, here?" Anne gawked at her, looking around, not knowing what to say. Her pussy was tingling with anticipation, yet how could she do it in this place? She wanted to rush home to run a bath, and play with herself! She had done a lot of that over the past few days.

July took a hold of her elbow, guiding her to a cubicle at the back of the store. "It's not very comfortable. Just close your eyes and imagine a favorite fantasy," the girl smiled, with a knowing look.

It would at least calm her enough to return home. At the moment she felt so hot it was difficult to control the building urge. Anne pulled her panties off and lifted the skirt. She bent over a chair and lifted one leg. The vibrations over her clit were wonderful. 

The device could be inserted and strapped on, though she dare not go that far. She ran it over her wet pussy feeling the inner lips opening up in response. It wasn't a large one so she managed to take it in. After awhile she thrust it in, back and forth making sure she rubbed her clit with every deep, inward thrust. 

She remembered every one of those men that had taken her over the last two weeks. She moaned fretfully on remembering all the bad things she had done with them. Her breathing became ragged on coming so close to an orgasm. Deep breaths, then little whimpers followed. 

A small desultory orgasm wobbled her legs. She nearly fell over the chair. She hung onto it listening to her breathing slow down, trying to regain some composure. The orgasm wasn't much but it helped. 

"I'll take it and the other one you suggested," Anne told the assistant. 

"You might want to buy a skirt too," July advised her. 

Anne realized she had hurried from the cubicle without her panties. The front of the skirt was wet! 

"We have plenty of clothes, though nothing of quality like yours," July remarked. 

"Anything will do, just to get me home. I need panties too," she added. Anne couldn't bear to go back for the dirty panties she had trodden into that filthy carpet. By the look of the stains and stickiness, she hadn't been the only one to drip onto the cubicle carpet. 

"This looks you're size. Do you want to try it on?" July asked. 

Of course she was going to try it on, she needed to wear the damn thing. 

"It has a certain look, rather different to your designer label clothes," the girl said, with an offish sniff. "You are a perfect slut," she added.

"What?" Anne reacted in fear. 

"It says so on the packaging. It's from our party range. You are a perfect slut," the girl repeated. 

Anne looked at the packaging to read the label. It said, 'the party slut range - you are a perfect slut'. 

The girl had repeated the phrase, emphasizing it! Anne felt giddy. She hadn't just been called a slut, she had been told SHE WAS A PERFECT SLUT! Anne felt the programming seeping into her mind ready to affect her behavior. She was becoming a slut! The rules of the game would have her acting like a common slut so she had to get away fast.

Almost running up the aisle, between strange clothing and equipment, she dived into the cubicle to change. Her panties were still there squashed in a soiled mess where she had trodden on them. 

She quickly pulled off her clothes and un-wrapped the new ones. Anne pulled on the little skirt and halter top, not caring what she looked like. She just needed to get out of the store. If she had stopped to think it through, she would have realized it was the slut behavior program that had her changing into the dreadful clothes. 

The slut program had been called into being but the girl hadn't given her instructions, so there was no game to be played out. If she was instructed to do anything then the program would wind down, leaving her normal, or at least as normal as possible.

There had been no one around on her trip here, so, with a bit of luck she could get home safely. Besides, it was unlikely anyone would order her to do anything outrageous, if anything at all. A nod of greeting might be all that was met with. Anyway, without an instruction, the slut program would end of its own accord by the time she reached home.

Except for her flat shoes, she looked like a perfect party slut. Not that she dare look in a mirror. Anne marched out of the store, abandoning her clothes, in too much of a hurry to ask for a bag. The girl had already taken her credit number, so there was no need to stop and pay. It was important to avoid contact with anyone.

With head down, so as not to be noticed, she bumped into someone. 

"Where're you hurrying to, sweet thing?" a young guy asked. 

Anne had bumped into a group of bored youths, hanging around, looking for something to do.

"She came out of that store," one of them pointed out. 

"What do you need in a store like that?" Benedict asked, with a knowing grin. 

He was cheeky and looked so sure of him-self, she wanted to just turn away and scurry back to the store. 

He took a hold of her arm. "Hey! You mumped into me, don't you have manners?" Benedict asked. 

"I'm sorry, sir," Anne stammered. 

"So tell us what you've bought in there," he teased. They knew the store she had been in and exactly what kind of merchandise it sold.

"I've bought a couple of vibrator's and these clothes," she said. She cursed the damn program, for it forced her to tell them. The five young men laughed at her. 

"You don't need a vibrator girl," Benedict told her. They had been wary of her at first, as she was older than their eighteen years, but this crude revelation confirmed her as a slut. The young guy made suggestive movements with his hips close in front of her. 

"Forget the vibrator, we can look after your needs, girl," he laughed, with his friends following along. 

With a complete loss of their respect, if she had any to start with, she was being called a girl, and the others were talking between themselves, calling her a slut. She heard the words with a dire dread overtaking her thoughts.

She wanted to tell them she was a respectable woman and to leave her alone. The words just wouldn't come. She clamped her lips together on realizing she was going to agree with them, that she was a slut. The silence didn't dent their boldness rather it encouraged them to take advantage. 

The leader of their little gang, Benedict or Ben, pushed his hips against her. She could feel his cock through his jeans, big and hard, against her bare midriff. The skirt was low slung, under her belly, and short around her thighs, leaving only the tiny thong as protection. 

Pulling back away from the ruffian, she felt another hard thing, against her bottom. She had inadvertently pushed herself against him, though, as a slut, she didn't pull away from the contact. The slut behavior took over and she pushed her cheeks against his jeans, to feel his hard cock.

"Look at the way she pushed herself on my cock, guys. She likes it up the ass, don't you slut," the young hoodlum, loudly declared in her ear. 

He licked her neck and she shivered, instead of shouting at him to leave her alone, she whimpered. "I'm a slut," she whispered, in a weak little voice. "I like it up my ass," she added. If the implant had been active she would have responded with more enthusiasm. With the game playing in her subconscious she had a little control left. 

The group laughed at her. "You dress like a slut!" Ben told her. He lifted the little skirt up, revealing the red thong. The guy behind her wrapped his hands around her breasts, and pulled her sharply against his stiff pole. 

Anne felt it through his jeans. The bulge fit between her cheeks! Not knowing if she reacted from the programs influence, or from fear, she clenched her cheeks tight upon it. She looked down to see a pair of hands pulling the blouse off her shoulders. He pulled the blouse down further, pinning her arms behind her back. 

She was breathing heavily, not from exertion, but from arousal. She had been repeatedly told she was a slut and that is what she was. Under the rules of the game she was easily aroused and had to respond.

Now this young stranger was grasping her breasts and squeezing them tight. The half cup bra hadn't protected them at all. 

"You're a hot slut! How come you're so sexed up?" Phil asked, loudly in her ear. He was rubbing the bulge in his trousers between her cheeks and massaging her breasts. 

"I'm just a pathetic slut and you're heating me up," she whimpered. 

Anne tried to protest, only to let loose a deep groan instead. He pinched her nipples, twisting them painfully. It was true she was sexed up, like a filthy little slut. These young ruffians had named her correctly. She was a responsible professor at the university, but the way she was behaving, and the way she was dressed, it was all so dreadfully true. 

She was a slut on heat and out of control!

"I'm just a filthy little slut," she agreed. The mocking voice in her ear was instructing her, pushing her further into the damn slut game.

"Let's take the slut to the car-lot and find a truck," Ben suggested. It looked as though he had lost the leadership of his little gang and didn't like it. He needed to take back control from Phil. "We can all take her there, in the back of a truck," he added.

"No! Let's take her back to our place. We can keep her as a gang slut. Maybe make some money, when we get tired of banging the slut. Sell her on to my uncle, to work his side of town," Phil said, while grinding against her ass and massaging her breasts. 

"I guess we could make a lot more money, whoring out the slut," Phil added.

Anne's legs collapsed under her. She was only being held up by his grip on her tits. She was a decent woman, a wealthy woman, not these young bastards whore. From a confusion of ideas spinning through her head, she tightly closed her eyes. 

It was true that she was a slut, for they had proved that. She knew there was no way of getting away from them while the damn game was active, and so hoped for rescue. She also knew that from being a wanton, sexed up slut, they just needed to give the command and she would become their whore.

A hand went between her legs, leaving a breast alone, leaving it aching from sudden neglect. The panties were pushed aside and a bunch of rough fingers found her sex, wet and available. 

"Smell this, whore," Phil said, wiping his fingers under her nose. "You're a sexed up whore. What are you?" he asked.

"I'm a sexed up whore, sir" Anne said, with a tremulous voice. She felt his cock, through his jeans, grinding away at her ass. She didn't want to, but couldn't help needing it. She wanted to feel this strangers cock inside her, and felt shocked and humiliated from the powerful need of it. 

"Who do you belong to whore?" Phil asked, breathing the words into her ear. 

"I'm your whore, sir, thank you sir, for letting me be your whore," she replied. Anne cried inside, knowing the game play was so strong she wouldn't be able to refuse their demands. The young ruffians were turning her into a nasty little whore, ready for cock, anyone's cock!

"That's enough, Phil," Ben demanded, and pulled the slut away from him. "You always go too far. You'll get us arrested," he said. The others nodded as Ben asserted his authority over his gang. Ben knew Phil was all talk, but baring her breasts was dangerous, even in this run down mall. There wasn't much security here, though there was little sense in taking chances.

They obviously liked the idea of having an eager slut to fuck, so he had to go along with that at least. Ben held onto her arm, guiding her toward one of the exits to the car park. 

Anne inwardly cursed these young callous youths. They were only just eighteen, yet they had taken complete charge of her. They were taking her off someplace, to fuck! She was now completely captivated by the game, making her play out the role of a whore. Being a slut was bad enough, but this was a dangerous situation and a deep humiliation. 

They found a delivery van and climbed in. "Take us to lot fourteen," Ben said, giving an instruction for their destination. The automatic driver took control and moved off smoothly, with a whine of electric motors. 

"It'll be more comfortable at our hideaway," Ben told his friends.

Not far away the vehicle pulled up outside an old run-down warehouse. Ben shoved at a door, which gave way, with a shriek of metal on metal. They automatically turned their heads, scanning the street, not spotting anyone as usual. Their boots clanged up a metal staircase leading to a large loft-room. 

Old rescued pieces of furniture were arrayed around a large, new piece of carpet, laid in the centre of the room. 

Anne dare not say anything, in case she betrayed herself. She hoped they were too young to take advantage, despite their lustful looks. She stood in the middle of the carpet feeling self-conscious. 

"So what do you do?" Ben asked.

Anne cringed with fear. She would have to answer the question which would betray her identity. She was a university professor, that's what she did, it was her life. Dressed like a whore, ready to please them, it would be so humiliating to reveal this truth. 

"I'm a whore, sir. How may I please you?" she asked. A sigh of relief quietly passed her lips. The shocking words should have disgusted her, yet the whore game had saved her dignity. That she was pleased to utter such a damning statement meant the game had now taken over. She was now committed to playing the disgusting role, until they decided otherwise. 

She had played this game with her husband a few times, only with him there had been agreed rules, to guide him and protect her. Anne prayed they had little imagination, and would soon become bored with her. Once sent on her way, the program would soon end, leaving her free. 

She just had to get through this terrible situation and quickly get home. Until she was properly recovered, Anne wouldn't dare leave the house again. 

"So tell us how you'll please us. What tricks do you do?" Phil piped up. 

The cheeky, leering face was annoying. Nevertheless, Anne had to smile at him. She stood on the carpet surrounded by the guys, who were sprawled over the padded easy chairs. The game had completely taken control of her behavior, leaving a winsome smile on her face. She really was ready to please them.

"Anything you want. My body is available to be used, however you want it. I'm good at sucking cock," she enthused, and formed her lips into a seductive pout. She pushed a finger between her delicious plump lips, wetting it and licking it. Despite not wanting to, she was enjoying teasing him. 




Human Android Ch. 09



"I can grip your cock tight with my cunt, if you would prefer it, sir. My asshole is even tighter, for your big cock, sir. It looks so big you might have trouble entering my bottom with it," she said, with a slight moan. He had an obvious erection in his tight jeans, as they all did.

She couldn't help leaning forward and licking her lips, while fingering her mouth. The girlish lisp from mouthing the obscenities around a finger was meant to be alluring. Bent over like that, the guys sitting behind her could see a bare ass cut by the string of the thong. While committed to behaving like a whore, this lewd display didn't bother her at all. 

Professor Anne was a mother, and technically a married woman, yet here she was wiggling he bare ass at these young guys. It was her trade to entice them into fucking her, and as with everything she did, she would do a good job of it. 

"Your whore could take you three at a time, if it pleases you. Perhaps you would like to play a naughty game? You could tie me up, or I could dress up in fantasy wear," she suggested. 

The disgusting suggestions shocked her as well as them. Their muttering and raucous laughter was suddenly cut off, leaving an uncomfortable silence. The drip of a tap became louder, seeming to close in as the silence dragged on. 

"I could play with the toys to get you in the mood, sir," Anne brazenly told Phil. The only consolation was, they might cum in their pants, and send her on her way from embarrassment.

"You really are a nasty whore," Phil told her, with a sneer. 

If the game hadn't already held her so tightly bound, she would have been upset to hear him emphasize the nasty role. It had taken over her behavior and thoughts, so she smiled and nodded her head in agreement. 

Phil flung the bag at her feet. "Go ahead, put on a show," he told her.

She got out the big black dildo with a trembling hand. She almost wished the damn program had flooded her conscious mind with its instructions, so she didn't have to be aware of what she was doing. 

For the past few days she had been growing more aroused, desperately needing relief. The short respite in the store hadn't been enough. She was especially hot after this despicable exhibition. Now she was expected to put on a disgusting show for them. 

The stringy thong was difficult to remove from between her cheeks. She threw it at Phil who caught it and sniffed it. The others laughed and made ribald comments, directed at her and him. 

Sitting on the carpet, she spread her legs. Her shaved, bare pussy was on show to them all, when she lay flat, with the little skirt around her hips. 

She found the other toy, the one she hadn't used in the store. Anne sucked on the big black dildo, wetting it and putting on a suggestive show. It was too large to swallow but they got the point. She was an expert at giving head.

She massaged the big hard object over her wet lips, for more lubrication. At least it had a soft outer coating, which would make it a little easier.

She gasped when it touched her bud. The dildo was large in circumference as well as in length. She wondered if she could take this much larger object, though it was too late now. She was committed to fucking herself with the damn thing.

She looked at Phil through half shut, dreamy eyes. He held her gaze as she began to fuck herself for their entertainment. She wanted to close her yes to shut them all out, needing to distance herself from this shameless exhibition of lust. The head of the dildo pushed at her inner lips and its head squeezed in.

It was just in yet already felt huge, as it stretched her little pussy. If she hadn't had so much sex recently, it would never have been managed. Gradually she pushed at the nasty thing. She was a nasty whore so it was fitting, a just reward, to be fucked by the brute. 

It was pushed in deeper, stretching her vagina as it delved into her hole. That's what it was, just a hole. It was no longer her private place. It was now a whore hole, on show, available to them all. She had to think of it like that to remain sane. It was just a hole in her body to be used like the other two. All three holes were available to these rough young guys and anyone else who wanted them.

Anne was no longer an important university professor she was just an object, an appliance to be used. On campus, in the accommodation blocks, there were Laundromats, where anything could be shoved into them. The difference was, she would become so much dirtier, the more she was used.

The dildo was so deep it hit the neck of her womb. She gasped and the guys laughed. Their sound was a mixture of embarrassment, and amazement, that she could have absorbed so much of the huge dildo. 

Pulling it back was easier. The second shove was easier too. The need for satisfaction grew, pushing her into a faster rhythm. Her eyes were still on Phil, as he intently watched her fuck her hole. She was really fucking herself now, with a need to orgasm. 

Anne shoved the monster in, arched her back, and let out a passionate yell of distraught satisfaction.

The comments were illiterate, though clearly complimentary. They were impressed with the whore. They had never witnessed such an exhibition. The passionate orgasm was still rocking her, yet she heard every foul comment. 

Eventually she had to retrieve it, feeling empty without its massive presence, as though her whole body had been left hollow. 

"That. That was impressive. Confirms she's a dirty whore though. I wonder if you can compete with that dildo, Phil," Ben stated. He watched Phil redden, as he realized he had chosen a stupid thing for her to do. "Get the whore something to drink. She looks dry," Ben added.

Anne lay on the carpet panting, while recovering from a deep orgasm. It was going to be difficult pulling her legs together, for her pussy felt on fire, despite being drenched with her juices. The whore program allowed her to pitch for business, though she wasn't capable of getting up off the floor yet. Perhaps they might roll her over and help themselves to her asshole. 

She closed her eyes, wondering what was next. There were five of them and they looked more than ready to take her. The offers she had made were revolting, yet she knew they could take advantage of everything she had listed. If it inspired them to imagine worse, these too would be carried out with enthusiasm.

What if they decided to keep her as their gang whore? Would she survive such abuse? The longer this damn program ran, the stronger it became. The wish not to be aware of these despicable acts would be fulfilled. The persona of Professor Anne would be replaced, as she became a total whore. Unaware of a previous existence, she would continue to live a depraved life, unable to resist anything anyone wanted.



Human Android Ch. 10



Chapter 10

The professor becomes a gang whore

Anne felt so low she needed to curl up in a ball, and hide away from the world. A set of naughty sex games had been deeply imbedded into her mind, waiting to be triggered by certain phrases. Once a game had been triggered, she was compelled to play by its rules, acting out the naughty role. 

The dire whore game had been inadvertently triggered by a bunch of drop outs, when she bumped into them in a mall. She hadn't even been aware that such a subculture existed, now she was playing to their tune; a macabre dance. They had taken her to their hideaway for a bit of fun, not knowing she was under the influence of the damnable game. 

They didn't know she was a professor at the local university, only that she was behaving like a slutty whore. They were quiet, astonished at the nasty demonstration of her perverse skills, with a dildo. She had performed a disgusting, lewd act before them, and hoped they would leave it at that. If they didn't give her another order she would be free to go.

Phil pushed her panties into his pocket and smiled at her. "You want a real cock now," he told her. "Don't get up, crawl over here," he added, pointing to his crotch. 

Anne groaned, knowing it was impossible to avoid the despicable act, and already felt the disgrace of it. Even if he knew she was a professor, this young guy would still take advantage. They would probably take greater pleasure in degrading her. Especially this little prick, as he was the malevolent one in their pathetic gang. 

"Get to work whore," he ordered.

"Yes, sir, with pleasure," she smiled up at him. It was all the more infuriating when the program chose her words, adding to the hurt of being forced to perform for these young hooligans. 

The naughty games were meant to be for her husband's pleasure, in the privacy of their bedroom. They had been naughty and fun, with strict rules as to what he could do, and couldn't do to her. There were no rules here, so the game kept on growing stronger, taking her over. It had all become so terribly out of control. 

She looked up at him through hooded eyes, licking her lips, trying to look sexy for the despicable loser. The game had her acting out the role of an enthusiastic, depraved whore. The attractive woman was naked, so there was no need to try and be sexy, her luscious body was devastatingly arousing enough.

"It's so big and juicy," she exclaimed, and kissed the head of his cock, with wet slurping lips. Having to perform this vulgar entertainment for a stranger, before his friends, was humiliating. It was so much more shameful, pretending to enjoy it. At least his friends were watching silently, no longer making rude comments.

She managed to suck it all into her mouth, only having to nudge the back of her throat occasionally, as her head bobbed up and down. She looked up at him and cringed. The expression of contempt, on the leering face, was appalling. It defined her place in this gang, as just an object, on the end of a cock. 

"I can't wait for you," Joe complained. After watching her fuck with a dildo, and sucking his friend's cock, Joe was desperate for relief. His rock-hard cock was aching for release. He grabbed Anne's hips, pulling her off the floor. Without the slightest consideration, he rammed his throbbing cock deep inside her cunt. 

Anne groaned around the short, fat cock in her mouth. She felt the strong grip on her hips, knowing what some bastard was going to do to her. It was awful being unable to refuse him, and worse still, not knowing who was taking her so brutally. 

She felt him ram in, without the slightest resistance. She groaned in anguish, on finding she had been so aroused, so open and ready; for anyone who wanted to take her. They had told her she was a whore, and a whore she was, unable to resist the rules of that damn program.

The contemptible, Phil, was holding off, making her work hard to make him cum. She felt his friend spurt into her. As programmed she had an orgasm. The small unsatisfactory orgasm was forced upon her. She wanted to bite the damn cock in her mouth, but it was impossible to do anything, besides being a compliant whore. 

Another one of his gang took hold of her and slid in to a soaking wet hole. He shoved hard, pushing her head into Phil's lap, forcing the cock down her throat. 

The familiar sign, of the program worming its way deep into her mind, was frightening. Using that awful word, cunt, in her thoughts, to describe her vagina meant it was taking over. No longer merely acting like a whore, she was beginning to think of herself as a whore. 

At last Phil spurted into her mouth. The strings of salty pearls congealed in her mouth, making her gulp it down or choke. She enthusiastically sucked his balls dry, making a show of swallowing his sperm down her throat, into her belly.

"Mmmmm! Tasty cum, sir," she told the arrogant shit. She shamelessly licked her lips, as though finishing a rare delicacy. 

"Go and lick my friends clean now, you dirty whore," he told her, with a derisive grin on his face. 

On hands and knees, Anne crawled over to the two guys that had fucked her. It was obvious who they were, for the others had hard lumps in their jeans. She delved into their jeans and sucked them as ordered, tasting her sex juices on their cocks.

"Anyone else want a blow job?" Phil asked. 

Ben had been the only one to stand up to Phil, protecting her somewhat, only now he sat silently, watching the disgusting performance. She had acted so enthusiastically, he decided she didn't need his protection. The others would soon come back under his leadership once they had been satisfied.

She padded, on hands and knees, to one after another of the gang. Sucking them dry was humiliating. The sucking up to them, like a professional whore, was devastating her self-worth. 

Being so low, left her bereft of energy to fight the game program. She was losing the will to resist, as the rules of behavior burrowed ever deeper into her mind. If she didn't escape soon, the game rules would become dominant, defining who she was. 

"Well! What now? You've had what you wanted, Phil. You better take her back to the mall," Ben told his friend.

"We should keep her. Make her our gang fuck," he argued. 

Anne groaned in an agony of pain from hearing those words. The whimper might have sounded pleasurable, from anticipation of servicing them. The idea of being kept in a state of constant arousal, always ready for a bunch of losers to fuck, was abhorrent. 

The others turned away from him, not wanting to get between the two dominant guys. Without their support Phil knew better than to push Ben, so gave in.

"OK! It was fun while it lasted," he shrugged. A big smile flashed across his face, quickly replaced by the usual leer.

***

The delivery truck needed to be returned before it was missed, but they weren't on their way back to mall. Anne was hardly conscious of where they were or where they were heading. She was recovering from the whore program, relieved to feel it slinking from her mind. 

She sat in the van, with arms wrapped around her exposed body. She wore a skimpy blouse and micro miniskirt, without underwear. She had sucked and slurped those young delinquents' cum, straight from the end of their cocks. All that young, potent sperm was in her stomach, and she imagined her belly was full of it. The indignity of such a degrading performance left her feeling pathetic, and vulnerable.

"We're here," Phil announced. 

Anne looked around wondering where 'here' was. It didn't really matter, she was ready to escape. The program left her feeling muzzy headed, but at least she was free of it.

"Wait!" Phil told her. He grabbed her arm. "You're just a whore, a good fucking whore, but just a cheap whore," he said, with a leer on his face. "You are my whore now, no need to share you with them," he told her. 

'No! No! No!' Anne shrieked inside. She should have run for her life while she had the chance. The whore program was hurrying back to take over. She slumped in the seat, fearful of what he was going to do with her. It just couldn't get any worse than it already had. Being gang fucked by a bunch of dropouts was devastating, so what could he do to her, all by himself.

They walked into a shabby, downtrodden store, where Phil was greeted by a friend. "Hey Phil, what you got there, man?" Billy asked.

"A dirty little whore I picked up this afternoon. She needs some decoration, and you're just the man to fix her up," Phil laughed. They high-fived while sharing conspiratorial grins.

"Sit, right here," Billy told her.

Anne slunk down into an old battered, dentist chair, with a dreadful idea of what they were up to. The lurid illustrations, decorating the walls, shouted the message at a deafening volume. 

They each took an ankle, fastening it with a leather belt to the chair, holding her legs apart. Her head was fastened to the head rest. 

"Open wide," Billy quipped. 

Anne had little choice but act out the role of a dirty whore, so being strapped to the chair was unnecessary. Perhaps the 'treatment' was going to be so hideous, they thought she would shrink from it, and try to escape. 

"What do you want?" Billy asked his friend, rather than her.

Phil pulled up the blouse. "Nipple rings for a start," he announced.

Anne's face screwed up in agony, despite the program forcing her to act as his compliant whore. She didn't consider the pain; just the indignity of being pierced shook her. It was enough to push aside the rules of the game, for a moment or two.

"Please, not that, don't spoil my body!" she pleaded.

Billy looked at his friend, hesitating from forcing this on someone. She had come in wearing next to nothing, flaunting her big tits, not flinching from being called a whore. The pitiable look of fear on her face, and in the tone of voice, made him hesitate.

"Shut up that pathetic whining! You're my whore and will do as you're told," Phil crassly ordered.

"Yes, Sir," she meekly replied. Anne felt the game rules re-asserting themselves, leaving her vulnerable to the dreadful things he wanted to do to her.

Phil gripped a breast and squeezed it, presenting the nipple to his friend. "She wants it, just a little scared that's all," Phil explained.

Seeing her nod her head Billy brought over a small machine, like a staple gun. Before she knew what was happening, a nipple was stinging sharply, quickly numbing down to a dull throb. The next one wasn't so bad, as she was prepared for it.

She looked at her breasts, watching the nipples swelling in reaction to the damage. The little gold rings were almost lost in the big puffy nipples. Her nipples had always been big, even before the implants. Now, they were in proportion to the oversized breasts.

For a long time she had thought to get a reduction, only agreeing to have them done from her husband's enthusiasm. It was while they were first married, before her career took off. So used to them, she hardly noticed men staring at her breasts. She hid them as much as possible under sensible, dowdy business suits. 

How could she possibly wear a blouse under a jacket with these things showing through? A bra made of thicker material was needed, to hide these rings, and that would emphasize her large breasts. 

As soon as she was free of this little shit, the horrible things would be removed. How dare he damage her body like this, who did he think he was. Did he think he owned her body? It had to be admitted, for the moment she was his whore, meaning he did own her.

"What next?" Billy asked.

"What do you call those rings down here?" Phil asked, pushing at her lips with a hard stubby finger. 

"Labia piercings. How many?" Billy asked. 

Anne wanted to scream at them. She shook her head, the only reaction managed while transfixed by the program.

"Two will be enough. You could run a chain between them, up through the nipple rings, to a collar," Billy explained. He was obviously into chains and bondage. He noticed the scowl his friend gave him, and decided to just get on with it. 

Anne cried out each time her lips were pierced. The two torturers expected it and even Phil flinched. The machine had injected an anesthetic, though the idea of it was enough to cause her to jump. 

Billy handed his friend a tub of ointment. "Rub this on, it'll prevent some of the swelling," he advised.

Phil enjoyed rubbing her sex. He took his time, unsure if they were swelling from the piercings or from his fingers. He might try out the chains. It would be fun leading her around by pulling on her lips. Every time he pulled on her collar the chain would rub her nipples and pull on her labia. The thought of it appealed to him. 

Anne wasn't in too much pain but suffered an agony of humiliation. Someone from the campus could walk in at any moment and recognize her. She was held down, in the big leather chair, with her legs spread. Her smooth bald pussy was glistening with grease, with both lips pierced. Her plump breasts were on display, with rings piercing a pair of swollen nipples. 

Not even the most rebellious of students would have displayed themselves so gratuitously. It was immoral and absolutely damning, for a professor to be in this position. 

If a student entered the store, for an inoffensive tattoo, they would be sure to recognize her. After recovering from the shock, and examining her mutilated body, they might look at her face. She would be in trouble if it was that hulk from the football team, Ben, who she narrowly escaped once before. He hadn't recognized her then. This time she needn't be under the control of a program, he could blackmail her into submitting to him. 

Anne shook her head, taking deep breaths, trying to shake off the fantasy. She had become so hot she was imagining all sorts of dreadful things. So used to being aroused, so addicted to sex, this situation was firing her imagination.

"It didn't hurt that much," Billy told her. He mistook her actions as a reaction to the piercing, rather than how heated she had become.

"In the past it was really painful, yet they stood it. Even tattoos were painful, in the old days," he smiled, trying to calm her down.

"What about a tattoo?" Billy asked.

Anne groaned out loud.

They looked at her and laughed, thinking it was from Phil's hand, rubbing between her legs. The greasy ointment was spread over her pussy, up to her asshole. He fingered both holes, working her up.

"Not now, I've other plans. I'll bring her back later. I was thinking of giving her an ownership tattoo. Another one low on her back, saying - 'fuck hole'. Got any other ideas?" Phil asked. 

"Plenty of ideas, so long as you got the cash, my friend. It can wait till you come back," Billy smiled. 

****

"Listen good, you hear me?" he asked, holding her chin in a hard grip. She tried to nod, unable to speak. "You're going into that club, to earn me some credit, for the piercings and tattoos," he said, handing her a biometric card. 

"Approach everyone in the club, offering your services as whore. Make a good play for them, but don't make trouble. When they've finished with you, you're finished too, so you can leave the club. Don't leave until you've offered yourself to all of them," he firmly warned her. 

As head of the university business studies department, she wasn't impressed with his plan; market research hadn't even been attempted. As his obedient little whore, she walked into the club, to tempt any punters that would take her. Every skill she had and her whole body too, was on offer, to whoever wanted it. 

As she entered a leaflet was dispensed from a machine, explaining the club rules. As far as sex was concerned, it seemed anything went, short of permanently harming anyone. Fortunately there were few people there this early in the evening, and they seemed more interested in the sports viewer and beer, rather than her. 

She rubbed her thigh against an old guy, trying hard to win his custom. The disappointing score, more than her seduction skills, motivated him to escort her to a back room. 

"What do you do?" he asked. 

With an inward groan she remembered the litany of obscenities she had offered to the gang, at their hideaway. The program interrupted her thoughts to speak for her. "Anything you want, honey," she cooed. 

The guys name was William, looked over forty-five, and didn't look too interested. "Shall I dance for you?" she said, swaying her hips. There wasn't much use in offering to strip, for she wore next to nothing anyway. His eyes were lighting up as she gyrated seductively, let the blouse go, and let her large breasts sway before him. 

Anne was concentrating on getting him to fuck her, as Phil's obedient whore. The sooner he did, the sooner she could move on to the next customer, and be out of the dingy club. A nasty thought came to mind, that the program pushing her into thinking like a whore, rather than just behaving like one. She shook her head, losing the thought and loosening her hair. 

She whipped him with her long hair then moved in, to lick his hairy ears. She found his mouth and sucked on his tongue, reached between his legs, and found he was ready enough to fuck. 

Returning to the bar with him, she found his buddy had turned up. William recommended her, so she led the friend away for another cheap fuck. Returning to the bar with another satisfied customer, she figured the order had been completed and she could escape. None of the others had been interested, as she looked so disreputable.

The bar was an automatic dispenser, so there was no barman to offer her services to. Phil had told her to offer herself to everyone and that order had been completed, so she was free. He had neglected to command her to return to him! 

She stood a moment, with the familiar, glorious fuzzy feeling, heralding the termination of the game. Soon she would be free to walk out the door, away from that dickhead of a boy. 

She was furious, with herself, for letting that gang of stupid drop outs trap her. That despicable young guy had her working as his whore. He had set her to work in this rundown club, as a common prostitute, like a stupid horny slut. He had called her a good fucking whore! She had been his stupid fucking whore!

Anne glanced up and saw two men walk in. An attempt to escape toward the door was abruptly turned into a step toward them. She wanted to cry. The two of them were looking her over, checking out her large breasts, obviously, liking what they saw. 

She had to quickly get them to fuck her, or more customers would arrive. She could end up being there all night. The prospect of expertly fucking strangers all night was terrifying. It left her thoughts cringing in a corner of her mind, needing to escape the terrible overwhelming thoughts.

She was a staid, responsible professor, working hard at a professional career. She was a harridan to her staff and students expecting them to work hard too. Now, she was going to be working hard, to be a good professional, fucking whore. She let go, leaving the horrendous task to the whore program. These men were out of town executives looking for fun, so she would have to be just a little more subtle. 

All that meant was, she refrained from rubbing her sex against their legs, like a bitch on heat. She teased out of them, what they might like to do to her. She accidently lost the blouse, letting it unravel, from being tied under the ample breasts. They were fascinated by her huge tits. They didn't have to say anything, their faces revealed all. 

"Could you help, me, I can't let go of my breasts, and get my top back on," she simpered, fluttering her eyelashes at them. As Jerome pushed and pulled at the top, trying to make it fit, she looked into his face, gauging how to continue. 




Human Android Ch. 10



She breathed in deeply, expanding her chest, leaving it impossible for him to pull the skimpy garment around her. She hardly reacted on seeing who it was. This man, pumping her breasts, trying to get them back into the blouse, was someone she knew! He was the CEO of a corporation, where she had been a consultant. 

While working with them, they hadn't dared stare at her breasts, in respect of her formidable reputation. At the time they had kept close, respectful eye contact. Now he was fondling her tits. He didn't have to pretend, it was a struggle to get them covered.

"Here let me help," Leonard suggested. 

She giggled girlishly, playing around in the whore role. "They're too big for this top, I guess. Please cover them up, I can't just let them loose in here," she said. She was behaving like a silly little slut, on the make, as the program had judged it the best approach.

Leonard held one breast, conniving to rub an already swollen nipple, into becoming rock hard. They pulled on the nipple rings, sending little messages to her sex. Jerome took this as consent and did the same to her other breast. They were plainly kneading her breasts, enjoying a grubby grope. 

"Its no good, we'll not get it on like this," she sighed. Anne was trying to sound innocent and demure, only failing, for she looked like a hot slut, ready for anything. Inside she was petrified they would recognize her. At the moment they were too busy enjoying themselves to even glance at her face.

"In the back room, you can help me there, in private," she softly spoke. Holding the scrap of material over her breasts, without attempting to tie it under the swollen breasts, she led them away from the bar.

In the private room all pretence vanished. They took hold of her, laying her upon the cushions scattered over the floor. Her head was in Jerome's lap, where she scrabbled for his cock. Leonard quickly took out his cock and stabbed her hard with it. They didn't take long. They saw her as a simple, easy going country girl. They just used her to spurt their sperm into a soft warm body. 

With her head in his lap she licked him clean, while he toyed in fascination, with her nipple rings.

Leonard looked around the room wondering at the fascinating equipment. 

"This might be interesting," Leonard announced, with a sly grin on his face. "Bring her over here." 

Jerome had her crawl on all fours to a small platform. She knelt there, with her breasts hanging down under her. He played with her breasts again while they were in a much more agreeable position, for him, not her. 

Before she realized what they were doing, they covered her breasts with rubber cups. Jerome switched on the machine and the cups gripped her breasts tight. They were sucking on them! They held her breasts firmly, with the suction holding them in place. 

A control was increased, for the cups to suck harder, throbbing, vibrating. She couldn't move. It wasn't unpleasant to start with, but was becoming more agreeable and intense every moment. 

A rubber gag was pushed into her mouth, and she heard another electronic sound. Liquid spurted into her mouth. She had to swallow. The gag was feeding her something!

She couldn't turn her head to see what they were doing behind her. As she feared, they pushed something deep into her vagina. Anne couldn't even struggle. A throbbing began inside. It began to wriggle and vibrate. She was being fucked by a damn machine!

One of the men began to massage her asshole with grease and this time she couldn't hold back a moan of arousal. The gag suppressed the sound, but her body clearly was in a state of exceptional excitement. A dildo was inserted. It felt longer than a penis, though thankfully, it was thin.

It too began to throb, while deeply imbedded up her bottom. Her cheeks quivered with sensations of lust. Her whole body was being stimulated, far more than it had ever been. Her breasts jiggled under her, as her whole body quivered in rhythm, with the cups sucking, and the dildos working away at her fuck holes.

Just as she was reaching an orgasm, reaching a fever pitch, she lost her way. Held on the brink, by the throbbing machine gripping her body, with its devious devices, she cried out for relief. 

"The slut is certainly enjoying it, more than she did when we fucked her," Jerome laughed.

"I've adjusted it, I think. It should keep the stupid slut busy for awhile. It'll keep the girl hot, for when we're ready. According to the instructions it should keep her just off the boil," he laughed. "If I've read it right, the silly bitch is being fed something to make her lactate. A drink for later, if you're interested?" he suggested.

Anne heard every demeaning word. There was no need for this, the bastards had her helpless as a whore anyway, though, of course they didn't realize it. The indignity was grisly, yet the feelings of arousal were overwhelming, leaving her desperate to cum. The horrible machine had her in its grip, keeping her on the edge. 

Much more of this and she would be driven made with lust.

Leonard slapped a bare cheek. "Don't cum without us," he laughed.

"Don't go anywhere, we'll be back," Jerome mocked her.

They left, locking the door behind them. The engaged sign was lit up over the door, meaning no one would intrude. Anne worked this much out through the red haze of intense arousal. 

What would happen to her if they got too drunk to come back? Did they intend returning? She could be here all night! She wondered if she might end up a nymphomaniac. It seemed she was already addicted to perverted sex, from over use of the implant. Could it get any worse?

***

A few hours later a janitor unlocked the door. He switched off the machine and helped her stiff, aching body onto the floor cushions. She laid spread eagled on them, unable to move. He massaged her limbs saying nothing. He shook his head from side to side, the only sign of a gloomy disapproval. 

He brought a coffee, holding her head so she could sip the strong black liquid. White liquid seeped from her nipples. He was tempted to joke about adding milk to his coffee. Considering the state she was in, he thought better of it. He figured she was a rich bitch, 'slumming it' for a thrill, only to be caught out in too rough a game. Surely no-one would willingly go through such an ordeal.

It took her a couple of hours to recover. The whore program had left her alone, with the tormenting machine. She had climaxed, eventually. After that, she had repeated forced orgasms. During all that time she endured the throbbing, in her vagina and bottom, as well as her breasts being pumped. 

"Can you walk?" He asked. She nodded. He pulled the abandoned clothes over her body and helped her up. By the time she got out the door a vehicle was waiting. It was daylight, next day, and Phil had grown tired of waiting. 

Anne croaked the address, from a dry throat at the auto-driver. The automatic vehicle made its way to her home, through early morning, empty streets. It had been raining over-night washing the streets clean. In contrast Anne felt so dirty, it would be impossible to clean her body and mind from the filthy acts of yesterday. She didn't care what she looked like or who saw her. She hobbled up to the front door, hoping for enough strength to make it to her bed.

***



Human Android Ch. 11



 (Please note, there are more fetish scenes in this chapter, so if you are not into it, please ignore this one. You can't please, all the people, all the time. Or, you could think of it, as just another way to humiliate the professor.) 

Her daughter takes over

*

"What's wrong mom, you look terrible," Rebecca asked, looking anxious from the sight of her mother. She had gone into the bedroom, looking for some make-up, and found her still in bed. 

"Leave me alone," Anne mumbled. 

"How long have you been in bed? You stink," Rebecca admonished her, while opening the blinds. For once the roles were reversed, with the daughter moaning, about her mother moping in bed all day. 

She had been lying there for two days, escaping unpleasant memories, in a deep, innocent sleep. She only left the warm comfortable pit, to visit the bathroom; even then it was in a state of semi-consciousness. 

"You're a mess! You can't roll up and die because father left you," she lectured her mother. Having inherited her mother's determination and controlling nature, Rebecca wasn't going to give in easily. 

She pulled back the sheets and gasped. "What? What's happened? What's this?" Rebecca demanded. The immediate reaction of shock turned to outrage. When they shopped together a week ago, her mother didn't have nipple piercings. Rebecca didn't want to look, though she couldn't help noticing something, glinting between the legs. 

Anne blinked her eyes, like a mole disturbed from its tunnel, looking myopic. Anne needed to get back into a warm, comfortable, unconsciousness. She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them.

"What have you done to yourself?" Rebecca demanded. It wasn't just the piercings. Her mother had been lying in bed for longer than just a day. She was outraged, by the depressed state her mother had sunk into. 

"You can't wallow in self pity all day!" she scolded her. She dragged her protesting mother from the bed, and into the bathroom. "Come on, get in the bath, now! I expect you to be dressed by the time I get back," Rebecca warned.

The communications view-screen was off, when she spoke to her father. The bitch he had run off with was obviously in the room with him, and he didn't want her seen. Rebecca started out being cross with him, though inside she was angry and hurt. 

He told her how they had tried to save their marriage, even trying out games, with an implant. It didn't work for him, like it did for her mother, he explained. 

Rebecca was shocked on hearing this tacky news. She didn't want to think about her parents having sex, it was all too disgusting. Her anger spilled over, and she lashed out at her father, with harsh words, even swearing at the unknown woman.

Abruptly breaking off communications, she sat with arms folded, looking stern, looking like her mother. They were both at fault. How could her mother let herself be so vulnerable, when playing disgusting bedroom games? 

"Oh! My! God! The piercings! She's been playing games with someone!" Rebecca screeched. Running upstairs, ready to hit her mother, she instead wailed in fear.

Anne had retreated into blissful unconsciousness, only this time, by sinking under the water. Rebecca lifted her arms, with a strength born from an emotional crisis. Anne's top half was slumped over the edge of the bath, pressing her stomach, while she retched. Water spilled from her lungs, through her nose. 

She coughed and spluttered. Leaning too far over, she slithered to the floor in an ungainly heap. 

"Who was it? Who did you play games with? What kind of kinky games were you playing, when you had these piercings?" Rebecca demanded, with the sound of venom in her voice, and spittle speckling her mothers face. She grabbed her hair in one hand, lifting her face close.

"I can't tell you," Anne moaned. "I couldn't stop him," she cried. 

"I hope you're up-to-date with the stopper!" Rebecca grimaced. 

Anne clenched her eyes tight, trying to think when she last had an injection. The girls called it the stopper, stopping pregnancy. She hadn't needed to be so careful since Rebecca was born, because her husband also took precautions. The terrible thought of becoming pregnant again, was horrendous. 

She thought through the list of men who might have made her pregnant, and shuddered. She would have to inform the authorities, listing them all as possible fathers. Such information was confidential; of course it was, yet, such tasty gossip always got out.

Jean had become pregnant even after having the medication. It had been a faulty batch of medicine, not her fault at all. A certificate had to be issued before having a child, to keep the world's population under control. The parents were supervised, if it was thought they weren't responsible enough. The careful guidance ensured the child was brought up correctly.

If the pregnancy was through negligence, rather than planned, both parents had to live together, it was the law. What would she do if she became pregnant, by one of those terrible, young guys in the gang? 

It would definitely be a supervised relationship, and she would have to abide by the supervisor's rules. As the father of the child, he would have a big say in how they ran their lives. Under the circumstances, the supervisor would see her as being irresponsible, and so the boy would be given a great deal of control over her. 

Being under a young dropout's control, would be devastating. It would be humiliating having to submit to him; asking his permission to leave the house, and being restricted to where she could go. He might decide to purchase her clothes, and it was dreadful, imagining what distasteful outfits he would make her wear. 

Would it be any better, giving birth to her uncle's child? Two of the students, from the football team, had taken her. Two businessmen, in that damn club, had taken her.

She was reminded of the horrendous machine they strapped her into. She was puzzled for a moment, wondering why she was rubbing a breast. She felt a throbbing at her crotch, beginning to feel aroused. She quickly shoved the feeling aside, repressing it.

Anne scraped herself off the bathroom floor, and limped to a screen. She breathed in a deep lungful of air, ignoring her daughter's presence. She was covered, and breathed a sigh of relief. 

"You're safe, this time," Rebecca scathingly remarked. "The fact you had to look it up means you're not responsible," she told her mother. "I don't want to know who it was with, or what sordid games you played with them," Rebecca harshly stated. 

"You're not playing them again," she said, quietly. 

Rebecca had been looking her mother over, guessing an implant had to be somewhere in the head. While her mother was distracted, Rebecca stroked her hair, lifting it, to find the switch. It was not easy to spot, but found it at the top of her neck, looking like a mole. She pressed it firmly; no reaction. There, just above the mole, she pressed that.

"No! Please," Anne only just managed to say. Her daughter had activated the damn implant! Her daughter hadn't said anything, so at any moment, the default maid program would be initiated. What the hell was she playing at?

"I'm going to make sure you don't play around and that you keep busy. I'm not having you sink into a funk. So, what game are you ready to play?" Rebecca asked, curiously looking at her mother.

"I'm your maid, mistress," the game program answered for her. Anne didn't like the idea, of her daughter finding out about this embarrassing implant. It was imperative to keep everything else a deep secret. All those men she had entertained, having to submit to their needs, it was all so sordid.

Having her daughter activate the damn implant was a shock. In this same bedroom, it had been her husband using it, to entertain them both. It had just been a naughty distraction, something to spice up their lives.

"Yuck! That sounds so tacky! Though, it might be a way to keep you out of trouble," Rebecca mused. "Get dressed maid," she said, deciding to teach her mother a lesson.

Anne rummaged around in the closet, looking for the French maid uniform, bought by her husband. The game program had lain dormant for a couple of days, yet her mind was still not free of the programming. She would have to tell her daughter not to leave it active for too long, otherwise it would take over again. 

"No way! That maid outfit is so bad," Rebecca told her mother. She was beginning to enjoy telling her what to do. "Jeans and t-shirt will do. You're going to be cleaning house for a couple of days," Rebecca informed her. She found her mother the oldest, shabbiest clothes in the bottom of the wardrobe. 

It was disappointing that her mother didn't complain, at being dressed in such shabby clothes. She would find something else, lots of demeaning tasks, to shame her.

Anne sometimes cleaned the house from top to bottom, when upset over something, so this wasn't too difficult to carry out. Her daughter was familiar with this particular foible, from when she was shoved out of the way, while mother cleaned around her.

As a lazy adolescent, this seemed a perfect way to bring the house up to scratch, keep an eye on mother, get waited upon, and teach her to behave. She tried to forget about her mother being with another man, for it was too awful to think about. 

***

"Hi Rebecca," Larry's serious face greeted her, on the view-screen. 

"What do you want?" she asked. In a mood, understandably, she gave him little encouragement to continue.

"I wanted to speak to Anne, I mean Professor Draper, your mother," he said, sounding confused. 

"I know the professor is my mother, Larry," she said, with a derisory tone of voice. "What do you want? She's busy," Rebecca repeated.

"It's OK! I was just going to check on something, doesn't matter," he said, and quickly disconnected.

It was unfair to take it out on him, but he was a male, and had called while she was in a mood. Rebecca had split up with her boyfriend, Vernon, a couple of days ago. After that, and what her mother had done, she had a down on all men.

"Fetch me a drink, maid," Rebecca ordered. She was getting used to having someone run around after her. The maid didn't complain, rather, she seemed eager to please. Rebecca was having fun, especially as it must be so humiliating for her mother.

She should have ordered her mother around, in front of Larry when he called. That would have been so awful for her. Larry? Why did he call? Rebecca went through the call list. He had called every day, over the last few days. Yesterday, he called twice.

"Maid! Maid!" Rebecca shouted. She looked up at her mother, standing before her with a cool glass of lemonade. 

"Did you play one of your naughty games with Larry?" she spoke slowly, with a look of fierce determination in her eyes. 

Anne quavered before her daughter. How had she found out? She hoped the details of that terrible episode with Larry remained a secret. She had been his sex slave for a short while, pandering to him, pleasing him, while completely at his mercy. She felt a throbbing between the legs, a feeling of arousal warming her up.

He also put a new program into the implant, making her behave like a silly, love struck school girl. Despite it being embarrassing, it had been fun, and in his defense, he did try to protect her. 

The other games had turned out to be dire humiliations, with men that didn't care anything about her. Men had used her as though she were nothing more than a sex-bot. If the implant had been running for much longer, that is exactly how she would have ended up. 

As she thought about the bad things she had done, the arousal gained heat.

"Yes, mistress," she answered. The awful admission had to be made.

"You, you," Rebecca began to say something, only her anger was too much to express.

Anne wanted to yell at her daughter, out loud, telling her not to say that word. She thought Rebecca was going to say - she was a slut. She would be more adventurous then, instead of merely waiting for orders. Being proactive, behaving like a slut with her daughter, was worrying. Surely she wouldn't. . . 

Rebecca grabbed her mother's t-shirt, pulling Anne down over her knees. "How could you? You're just so stupid, how could you do it with him? You let that nerdy jerk do it to you," Rebecca yelled at her mother, while slapping her ass. 

Rebecca became aware of how painful her hand was. She pushed the dirty woman off her knees, onto the floor. "Look at me. You are just a. . . " Rebecca began. "Lift your t-shirt," Rebecca told her mother. "You're leaking, why?" she crossly asked.

The front of the-shirt had wet marks, around both nipples. Anne squatted on the floor holding up the t-shirt, showing off a pair of very large breasts. They seemed even larger than they were before, and now they were leaking. 

Being spanked by her daughter, left her feeling so pathetic, her self-esteem evaporated. Not that she had much self-worth left, after being a prostitute. Being spanked and showing off her breast to her daughter, seemed even more humiliating, than letting those men pay her for sex.

"Go get a cup," Rebecca told her.

Anne scurried back, knowing this was going to be a part of the punishing humiliation, her daughter wanted to put her through. She could feel her mind receding from this new, imminent dishonor.

"On your knees, maid. Squeeze them, milk them," Rebecca insisted. 

Anne had been aware of a growing ache in her breasts, so this was the cause of it. The discomfort was receding, though the pain of humiliation was increasing.

Anne held the cup under a breast, while squeezing and pulling on a nipple. 

She thought the ache was from having her breasts sucked, by that diabolical machine. The bastards had abandoned her, after attaching her to a machine, leaving it to stimulate her body all night. She remembered the liquid feed it pumped into her mouth, realizing it must have been a lactation drug. 

She hadn't thought it was possible to become more humbled, while being her daughter's maid. Now she had to milk herself, because of those arrogant men. They had done this to her! 

She had worked with them, as a business adviser, in their corporation one semester. As a highly paid consultant, they had to treat her with respect. The other night, they treated her like a stupid slut, worse than that, she had been their whore. 

As a joke, they hooked her up to a diabolical machine. Throughout the night, the dildo's had intermittently throbbed in her pussy and bottom. Each time, she was pushed so very near an orgasm, yet not allowed to climax. If she had been thinking clearly, she might have connected it, with the intermittent throbbing in her crotch.

At least they hadn't recognized who she was. So far, except for her daughter and Larry, no-one knew of the shameful acts she had endured.

"Was this caused by some disgusting game?" Rebecca asked. 

"Yes, mistress," Anne answered truthfully. If her daughter found out how it happened, that she had been working as a prostitute, she would die of shame. If the whore program were active now, she would have boasted about it.

"You let that bastard do this to you!" she ranted. Trying to calm down, Rebecca looked her mother over. All evening she had obeyed her, without complaint. Was that why she had behaved so badly with Larry? It was obvious now. Larry had taken advantage of her; she hadn't voluntarily played a nasty game with him.

"Did Larry take advantage of you?" she asked.

"Yes, mistress," Anne answered. It was true, up to a point. It had started that way then spiraled out of control.

"I'm going to keep you out of trouble, he won't get his hands on you again, I'll see to that," she said, with malice. The bastard! Larry had somehow switched on the implant, so she was helpless, and fucked her. Hell knew what other perverted things he did to her.

Rebecca determined to keep her mother in this state, for her own good. Like this she would do as she was told, and could be kept away from the bastard.

The milk had dried up. "Does that feel better?" Rebecca asked. "Good. You can resume your duties, maid," she told her mother. Though understanding what had happened, she was still furious with her. This was no longer just a punishment; it was a means of protecting her.

During the evening Anne would become aroused, and wondered why. For no apparent reason she would feel her sex become inflamed. It felt as though her vagina and bottom were pulsing and throbbing. She figured it must have something to do with the piercings in her pussy. 

Getting into bed, between clean sheets, was a blessed relief. The problem was, she had been ordered to sleep then wake her daughter in the morning, with breakfast. Until the orders had been completed she was subject to the damn program.

Her fingers made their own way down to her throbbing clit. Why was she stroking her pussy? It was her last thought as she fell asleep, as ordered.

***

"Breakfast, mistress," Anne announced, to her sleepy daughter. Anne wanted to leave the bedroom as quickly as possible. All orders had been completed, so she would soon be free of the program. Instead, she stood there waiting for instructions.

She began to realize, the damn program was even stronger than it had been. After weeks of submitting to it, the game was too influential over her behavior. 

"Wait there, I want to keep an eye on you, maid," Rebecca said. It was already mid-morning, but the whole day was ahead of them. What was she going to do with an obedient maid all day? A party! She could be used to prepare for a party. It would be so cool to send her mother to bed early, while her friends partied.

It seemed there was enough food in the house to prepare party snacks, as well as booze, though the guys would be expected to bring their own. She left her maid in the kitchen making the preparations. 

Anne stopped what she was doing for a moment, to adjust the rings through her pussy lips. A hard rub of her nub didn't help, so she waited until the arousal subsided. 

She sighed fretfully. The ache in her breasts meant she had to relieve them now. She twisted the nipple rings, pulling on them harshly, as though punishing her breasts. She lent over the sink and pumped her breasts, watching the milk dribbling from her swollen teats. 

***

Rummaging through her mother's wardrobe, looking for something to wear, she came across something.

"What the hell is this?" she murmured. Rebecca pulled out a bodysuit and a mask. She sat on the edge of the bed, wondering about it, trying to make a connection to something in the back of her mind. 

The maid outfit was there too. An idea seemed to come from nowhere, though there was a nagging feeling, that she had seen it before. Had she seen her mother dressed up like this for her father? She shook her head, not wanting to think about that.

Thinking about her father stoked the flames of anger. Her mother needed to be punished for her part, in driving father away. Humiliating her was the most satisfying way she could think of. She looked at the body suit and the maids outfit, knowing this would certainly humiliate her. 

"Maid!" she shouted. 

Dutifully, her mother stood in her own bedroom, awaiting orders. "Put that on," Rebecca firmly ordered.

Anne groaned inwardly, yet was unable to complain. A menacing idea crept over her, and it was soon confirmed.

"You will serve my guests, as a maid-bot," Rebecca announced. 

Anne had done this before, dressed like this at a party, and it turned into a disgraceful event. Two guys had taken her, and she had been forced to lick a girl, until she had an orgasm. Surely that couldn't happen here, in her home. With her daughter keeping an eye on her, she felt somewhat reassured. 




Human Android Ch. 11



Despite some misgivings, about presenting her mother as a maid, Rebecca was looking forward to the ruse. She looked forward to humiliating her mother, in front of friends. 

The bodysuit left her looking like a maid-bot, without being recognized behind the mask. No-one would take much notice of a household robot maid. Her mother would be fully aware of her humble role, before students, and that was sweet retribution.

There were few students on campus as the term hadn't started yet, so the party would be manageable. In a few days, they would come flooding back. 

***

The party was in full swing, with more students than she had expected. Her mother was serving drinks and snacks, dressed in a sexy French maid costume. Every time Rebecca glanced at her, she had to suppress a giggle. They would be shocked to know the harridan, Professor Draper, was their humble maid for the evening. 

The outfit showed off her breasts in a deep cleavage, with the short hem showing off stocking tops. Every time she bent over the suspenders were revealed, and sometimes, a glimpse of the panties too. This would teach her not to play naughty games, for she must feel so terribly humiliated. 

Rebecca glanced over to a knot of guys, wondering what was going on. She looked around for her mom, wondering where she had got to. A worried expression crossed her face, as she slowly walked over to them. The students were standing around her mom. Peering over their shoulders, she saw what held their attention. Shit! 

"Hey, stop that! That's my. . ." she took a deep breath, only just stopping herself from blurting out, they were teasing her mom. "That looks so wrong, guys," she said, trying not to sound too outraged. 

Fidel was squeezing her mom's breasts! She was so shocked she couldn't think what to say. Milk was being expressed from her breasts, as the guy squeezed and pulled on her swollen nipples. Damn! What was she going to do? She couldn't muscle in on them, as they were too intent on the erotic display to easily give way. 

She dare not draw attention to what was going on, incase everyone else joined in. The last thing she wanted was for them to find out they were indecently, interfering with her mother.

"Leave it alone, you might damage it," Rebecca complained. "I need it to serve the drinks," she added. They weren't listening. 

"It's my turn next," one of them piped up. 

Anne couldn't help it. Her clit was on fire. If she could have pushed her fingers into her throbbing pussy, she would have, right their before them all. They were pulling on her nipples, playing with the nipple rings, firing up her body to a fever pitch.

"You can have it back once were finished with it. I want to feel those tits, they look so real," another inebriated guy said.

Shit! It was so disturbing, watching friends milk her mother's breasts. All mom could do, was stand there, letting them fondle her tits. If they bothered to ask, she would be a good maid-bot, and tell them to carry on enjoying themselves.

Rebecca looked at her mother, thinking she must be mortified, from this despicable show of disrespect. She was a professor at the university, yet in her home, students were fondling her breasts, pulling on her swollen nipples, milking them. 

Although this wasn't the most humiliating experience, it was all the more damning. She had to stand there, while her daughter watched those young students, milk her breasts. Because the implant had been active for two days, her mind had become dominated by it. This latest ordeal had her thoughts shrinking into a corner, where it cowered like a small, injured animal.

Enough drink had loosened their inhibitions. They were having fun. They couldn't see what was wrong, playing with a domestic robot. She couldn't leave her mom like this, though she couldn't think what to do about it.

Shit! The next one was having a go now! 

"These are such big melons. I've never seen anything like them. I wish my girlfriend had some this big," a crass young guy commented. 

Rebecca was mesmerized by the sight of her mother, compliantly, letting them fondle her big milky breasts. She tried to shut out their nasty comments, feeling guilty over her mother having to endure them all.

Anne stood passively, as she had been completely taken over by the maid program. Her only thought, was to be thankful to the young masters, for relieving her aching breasts. 

"Go for it Tom, milk them hard. Yea! Twist those nipple rings," someone laughed.

"I'm next in the queue," Harris complained. "I'm going to suck those big tits dry," he added.

At last Rebecca regained some sense. "Maid, come with me to the kitchen," she ordered. Anne at last escaped the callous youths, pushing her way between them, to follow her daughter. 

Not without being groped, in even more private places, as she squeezed between them. One of the guys pushed his hand up the short skirt, reaching between her legs. It was a surprise to him, when a finger disappeared into her. He held her back for a moment, while she was stuck on a finger. He pulled it free, allowing her to carry on. 

"Go to your room and stay there until I call you," Rebecca ordered, with a fierce tone of voice. It was unfair to take it out on her mother, but she was angry, with herself more than anyone.

***

Frank came out of the bathroom, pulling up his zip. "Sorry!" he said, and blushed. "Oh! It's you," he added, on realizing it was just the maid-bot. "Wait," he told the maid. He took a good look at the huge breasts, which had been pulled out of the dress.  

"It's a pity, such a waste," he mused. 

"Pardon master?" Anne asked. 

"It's a waste of a good pair of tits, on a maid-bot, when you don't have the sex parts to use," he said. Frank felt foolish, talking to a robot like that, though no one was around to hear him.

"I am a fully functioning sex-bot, master," Anne informed him. 

"What?" he asked, with an open mouthed gawp.

"I am a sex-bot, master, with fully functional sexual orifices, ready to pleasure a master, or mistress," Anne stated.

"Really?" he asked. This time he looked around, wondering if he was being set up.

"Yes, master," Anne said, waiting patiently to be dismissed. 

"Lets, see then," he whispered.

Anne opened her mouth, forming a rounded, seductive shape with her lips. She lifted the hem up, and pulled her panties to one side, displaying her sex. She turned around, and bent over. Pulling the dress down, she waited patiently for further orders. 

"You called me master, does that mean I can, err, tell you what to do?" he asked, feeling worried, at the prospect of being caught talking like this to a robot.

"Yes, master, I am ready for you to command," Anne stated. The heat between her legs hadn't been attended to since before the party, and it left her feeling horny. She would have to endure it now, for she was in the presence of a master.

"In here," he quickly said, before his nerves got the better of him.

He locked the bathroom door. He considered taking it down there, though the prospect, of shoving his cock inside a machine, was daunting. 

"Do you know what a blow job is?" he asked. His knees were trembling, so he sat on a laundry basket.

"Yes, master," Anne confirmed.

"I want a blow job," he told the sex-bot. 

Anne got on her knees, and pulled out his cock. She found it only partly erect, so sucked it into all into her mouth. Running her tongue along its underside, and sucking firmly, it began to grow. She gently massaged his balls and ran a finger over his asshole. Her finger tips stroked his thighs, with a delicate touch. 

It didn't faze her, when the cock became hard, growing longer and fatter. She carried on sucking his cock deeper into her mouth, until it was too big, and she had to swallow it. She began to bob her head up and down in a regular motion, listening to his breathing and grunts, to get the rhythm right.

As a sex-bot, she was proud to be pleasing a master so well. 

Frank watched in trepidation as the robot sucked on his cock, hoping it wouldn't injure him. The skill was so good, his fears evaporated as the need outfought the fear. When it swallowed his cock, he gasped, from surprise and pleasure. 

He forgot it was a machine, as it looked like a real woman, bobbing her head on his cock. He had nothing to compare it with, for this was a first time. Unable to stand it anymore, he climaxed, sending streams of cum into its mouth. 

Having honed this skill recently, Anne knew what to do. She sucked on his cock, while massaging his balls. Finally, she rocked back with an open mouth, to show him the gift. 

She squatted on the floor, of her bathroom, in her home, waiting for permission to accept this stranger's gift, of sperm. She had to wait some time, for him to catch on. Eventually he nodded, so she could swallow his gift.

"Let me see, down there," he said. He was becoming bolder now. 

Anne lifted the dress, tucking it into the belt of the white apron. She deftly slid the panties down, and stepped out of them; another skill she had picked up recently. 

As far as he knew, the robot was built like a real woman. It was no good to him now, he was spent. He felt empty, so it was mere curiosity. He shyly ran a hand over her smooth skin, feeling her thighs, then cupped her sex. He froze for a moment, when she opened her legs.

He felt how wet she was, so different from a girlfriend in the back of his car. She had been dry and had kept her knees together. She had looked away, as though wanting him to get it over with, as quickly as possible. His finger found a hard lump, like a button. It gasped a light, wisp of a noise. 

It was built like a real woman, though built for easy pleasure, he thought. He explored the soft folds, and a little way inside. It was a pity he hadn't had the courage to fuck it. It felt so warm and inviting. 

Frank looked around the bathroom, wondering if there was something he could use, to explore further. He reached into a cabinet, for a perfume bottle. It was long and cylindrical, though narrower than his prick. A fatter bottle came to hand; it didn't matter at that moment, what it was. 

"Can you fit this inside?" he asked. Forgetting he held two objects.

"Yes, master," Anne dutifully replied.

Her vagina and bottom had been well used on a machine, only a few days ago, and they were still throbbing occasionally, from so much stimulation. Right then she needed to feel something inside, to slake the feeling of arousal. Not that it made much difference, for she was a mere sex-bot, ready to fulfill a masters' order.

She took the long cylinder and slid it over her wet lips, rubbing it in the juices, running from her open hole. It slid over the slit, to her bottom, and she eased it in. With the other hand, she took the larger bottle, to repeat the process of wetting it. 

Anne slid the fat bottle into her throbbing vagina, at the same time, pushing the perfume bottle further up, inside her ass. 

Frank watched avidly as it unexpectedly, worked both bottles, up inside its body. The long one was pushed all the way in, right up her ass. A slow steady movement kept them sliding in and out, in unison. The robot was breathing heavily, while rotating them, pushing them at different angles. He noticed it was rubbing the fat one, against that little hard button. 

With every push against its button, the robot gasped. He was learning something useful. It was just a display for him, for a robot doesn't have feelings, or a capacity for pleasure, yet it seemed real enough.

Anne felt it happening. A powerful orgasm was bringing her round from the tiny part of her mind, she had inhabited for the past hours. It seemed like an age, since she had been able to think for herself. She knew with stark clarity what had happened. She had been subsumed by the program.

Catching sight of her image in a mirror, fucking her-self with two bottles, was appalling. She looked at the young stranger before her, guessing what had happened. This young student had her performing a despicable act, for his amusement. 

Her breasts were out on show, covered only by the bodysuit. She wore the mask, hiding her identity, but that was no comfort, for she was painfully aware of the despicable act she had performed. She felt disgusted at how low she had sunk, how morally inept she was. A moan escaped her lips, from the last throws of an orgasm, and the shame of it.

Anne felt her mind receding again, aware of what was happening, unable to fight it. She tried to claw her way back, desperate to reach the light, only to have the darkness engulf her. Anne, the important professor, relaxed in a warm, dark, safe place. 

The sex-bot was in charge once more.

"Come on out, I'm desperate!" someone shouted, while hammering on the door.

Frank froze in panic. He gently pulled the bottles from the robot, not wanting to damage the poor thing. He lifted a finger to his lips, indicating for it to keep quiet, hoping it understood.

He ushered it through another door, into an adjoining bedroom. Closing the door behind him, he straightened his clothes, finding his flaccid cock was still hanging out. He opened the door, looking flushed, from what had happened, and from knowing it showed.

"So what have you been up to?" the guy asked.

"Nothing!" he guiltily responded. 

"Flogging it, from the sight of those huge tits downstairs, eh?" the guy chuckled, as he pushed past, into the bathroom.

***

The next day Anne cleared away the party debris. Her daughter never mentioned the party or what happened, looking guilty and angry in turns. Her daughter was ordering her to eat, to go to the bathroom, and ease her plump milky breasts. When alone, she couldn't resist playing with her throbbing pussy. 

A few days of being under the influence of the implant was having a bad effect. She couldn't tell her daughter it had taken over. It had too powerful a grip of her mind. In a way, it was comforting to retire from troubling thoughts, letting the implant take over. 

On the fifth day, the implant was switched off. They kept apart, but Rebecca stayed in the house, ready to tackle Larry, if he dared to show up. Anne continued with household chores, saying little, having little to say. Rebecca assumed this was her way of coping with the situation, not guessing her mother had regressed, into a compliant maid-bot. 

Rebecca reasoned, her mother wasn't speaking, because she was so angry. 

***

Anne sat in her office, vacantly staring at the desk. 

Rebecca was going to the library, and suggested Anne went to the office, to prepare for the new term. It was a way of telling her to buck up, and get on with her job, and her life. Besides, Rebecca didn't want Larry turning up at the house, while she was out. 

Anne had taken it as an order, though her daughter didn't seem to notice.

The professor was closeted away in her office, hiding from everyone. Her secretary wouldn't be back for a few days yet. There was a lot to do, but Anne didn't give it any thought. 

A heavy, confident knock on the door, interrupted the stillness. 

Before she could say anything, a hulk of a guy stepped in. It was Bob! If she had been more aware, she would be feeling shame and guilt. He didn't know it, but he had taken her, while she was an anonymous student at a party. She straightened herself up, wondering what this master wanted.

Bob knew the professor's fierce reputation, as everyone did on campus. Experience on the football field had taught him to bully his way through to win, at any cost. Dominate and win, was the advice from coach. He tried it now.

"Coach says I've got to make better grades. This college needs me out there on the grass. So, I want you to do the right thing, and make sure I get better grades. So, how are we going to achieve that?" he boldly asked. 

Anne looked at him, blinking her eyes, looking startled. A hand was in her lap, pressing at her crotch. She had ceased noticing the throbbing, becoming used to the routine arousal. Before a master she couldn't relieve the ache, so had to bear it.

From instinct, rather than empathy, he recognized she was in a weakened state. Thinking she must have had a hard weekend, as he had, he figured she must have had a good party too. He remembered the coach telling him, when on the field, look into the opposition's eyes; look for a sign of defeat, and press home the attack.

He tried to keep eye contact, but she looked down, unable to keep his eye.

"I want an easy time in class, so as to spend more time in practice sessions," he stated, wondering why she was giving in too easily. Pressing his luck, he continued. "I want a guaranteed passing score?"

Anne hardly heard what he said. She needed him to leave, so she could scratch the itch between her legs.

"OK! What ever you say," she murmured. 

He looked at her in surprise, quickly replacing the expression with one of innocent concentration. From experience, he recognized the signs of arousal. Girls often became excited, when confronted by the big football hero. 

This was Professor Draper, not some stupid girl. He figured, they just might all be the same, when it came down to it. He remembered the rumor about her husband leaving. They probably hadn't had sex for a long while, leading up to his running out on her.

He noticed her hand, moving ever so slightly below the desk. He was good at what he did. He wasn't just a meathead footballer. He studied sports psychology, from an interest in reading the opposition players, for it led to understanding their weaknesses. He learnt to notice the little nervous movements they made, revealing their play. 

She seemed unaware of what she was doing, what she was revealing about her state of mind. Perhaps she was still a little drunk from last night. 

Bob stood up and walked around the desk, putting his hand out. She reached up automatically, to shake it, still unable to look him in the eye. He shook the limp hand, pumping it, watching the tremor of her large breasts.

The big hunk was staring down over her, dominating her, with his presence. She could smell his masculinity, and it was powerful. He must be able to see her hand pressing between her legs, which were slightly spread. She couldn't move. She was pathetically vulnerable, though it no longer bothered her, nothing did.

He noticed her eyes, following him around the desk, staring at his crotch. Fingers had pushed the skirt between her legs, though she held them still now. On impulse he quietly spoke. "You must play with yourself, if you're frustrated," he told her, hoping she was too hung-over to notice the rude comment.

He watched a hand slip up the skirt, to start work in earnest. She heard him, and responded. He stood mesmerized, by the extraordinary sight of the bitch professor, frigging herself, not caring he was there. 

"You're such a horny slut," Bob quietly said. 

Anne moaned out loud, from being so turned on. She had become regularly frustrated, ever since being hooked up to the evil machine. Playing with her pussy helped a little, held off the need for awhile, but whatever she did, she just couldn't orgasm. 

"I'm so horny!" she plaintively moaned. The horny slut knew this student had fucked her before, and was desperate enough to beg him for it again. The gradual slide from sex-bot to horny slut had begun.

He could hardly believe the professor had responded to his remark. He had expected to be thrown out of the office. He would protest that she misheard him. He had figured on saying he had been shocked, at what she was doing. He knew how to plan a play. 

"What do you want, horny slut," he asked. He gripped his fists tight, hoping to get away with it again.

"Pleasure your horny slut, sir," Anne heavily whispered. 




Human Android Ch. 11



Bob watched her fingering her pussy under the skirt. There was something wrong with this. Or maybe, she had been hiding a nymphomaniac persona, behind a priggish image. Perhaps her husband couldn't cope with it any longer, so left, leaving her super frustrated.

"Tell me what you want, horny slut," he asked, wishing he had a record of this, incase it later blew up in his face.

"Fill your horny slut, with cock, sir," Anne gasped.

"Bend over the desk, you horny slut," he told her. He helped her out of the chair, letting her collapse over the edge of the desk. He lifted the skirt and pulled her panties down. He kicked one of her feet away, spreading her legs. He slapped her hand away from between her legs, where she had been rubbing her clit.

"You sure you want this? Do you want me to fuck you?" he asked.

"Please, sir, fuck your horny slut hard," Anne cried out.

Her pussy looked red and sore, from ill use. He shoved his cock into her, thrusting deep, and she moaned a guttural sound of satisfaction. She gripped his cock tight, as he pumped away at her, speeding up toward an orgasm. He wasn't bothering about what she wanted, as he simply needed to cum, to relieve the ache in his balls. 

She had started this and he would finish it. He spurted into her, a convenient hole to deposit his load. He pushed his cock as deep as possible, reaching into her, filling her up. 

She held still while a second orgasm rolled around her body, in waves of pleasure. At last she had been satisfied. 

Bob pulled out of her, before he shrank from her wet cunt, and sat himself down in her chair. He put a big hand on her back. "Stay there, I want to watch my sperm leak from your cunt," he told her.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, for fucking your horny slut," she murmured.

He knew the meaning of a word he wanted, but couldn't bring it to mind. Depressive wasn't it. Submissive was the word. The professor must be a submissive, under all that high and mighty bluster. He was treating her with contempt, and she was taking it, responding as though she were used to it. 

He turned to the computer to look the word up, wanting to get more detailed information. Her medical records were on screen. She had been booking an appointment, with the university surgeon. He scanned the records, looking for something to use against her. 

"Implant?" he said. He read further, finding out what it was for. It was difficult to believe the bitch professor had submitted to a pleasure device. He sat back in her chair, deep in thought. The sex games on it must have been a desperate move, to hold onto a failing marriage. Reading between the incomprehensible medical terms, he began to see why she might be behaving like this. 

He found studying hard, yet when he wanted to achieve something, he could work things out for himself. 

"Have you had the implant on for too long?" he asked. 

"Yes, sir," she answered. Anne was hardly conscious of his questions, but the program deeply imbedded in her mind, could take care of simple things. 

He learnt it was her daughter who left her in this state, over the last few days. It should have only been active for an hour or two, so it was no wonder she was in a daze. Her daughter had punished her, probably blaming her for the father leaving home. 

He sighed heavily. They had everything, yet they were throwing it all away. If his parents had the wealth and prestige that family had, well, who knew what might have been. They were poor, though happy, and still together after thirty years of marriage, after struggling to bring up two children. Bob was beginning to think maybe, he hadn't had it so bad after all. 

The professor was a thorough bitch, always wanting to run things her own way. He remembered she had expelled a girl that got pregnant. Right now, she was a pussy cat, for all he had to do was stroke her, to get the damn woman to submit. 

Access to the system at her level would certainly come in handy. He wrote down the passwords she gave him. He still hadn't worked out what to do with her yet. Backing out of the detailed records, he came to a list of names. Under hers was, Draper, Rebecca. 

It might reveal something of use. Nothing of interest there, no condemning secrets he could use against Rebecca. She was due for a check-up, later today. He grinned wickedly. It was worth a try. He copied a few records from the mothers file into hers. The surgeon's authorization went with them, and he added her mother's authorization too.

"Stand up," he told the professor. She stood before him, with her skirt around her waist, showing off the pierced pussy lips. He couldn't help pulling on them, and was surprised, when she pushed her cunt toward him, offering it. 

He looked up at her face, seeing a vacant expression, now knowing why she looked so dazed. It wasn't from a party after all. He chuckled, wondering what he could do with her next. The last thing he wanted was to ruin her reputation, for he wanted to use the professor, to pass this course.

He noticed wet patches over her breasts. "Open your blouse. Pull the bra off," he told her. He was still fascinated with how obedient she was. Girls had yielded to him, just because he was the college football hero, but they had their limits. 

Milky fluid leaked from her breasts, and here too, she was pierced. Everyone knew how big her breasts were, but seeing them like this, was something else. Some of the girls he knew wore a bra to enhance their cleavage. The professor wore one to hold them in. 

"Get down on the carpet, on all fours," he told her. He reached for a vase and emptied the dry flowers into a waste bin. He realized it was no good, for there wasn't enough room under her breasts, where they dangled almost to the floor. He tipped out a desk tidy, and slid that under her big milky breasts. 

"You're a cow, ready for milking," he chuckled. He began to milk her plump breasts, tweaking the nipples and twisting the rings piercing them. He stopped suddenly when she mood like a cow. 

"Damn!" he whispered. He figured a new game had been triggered. She was acting like a cow, enjoying having her breasts squeezed and the nipples pulled. "Does that feel good?" he asked.

"Yes, sir, thank you for milking your cow, sir" she said, managing to sound as though she were mooing. 

She dried up but he continued playing with the big tits, enjoying the feel of them. He stopped on seeing she was becoming turned on by it. He wasn't ready to fuck her yet. She obediently stood up for him to look her over. It was hard to think of this woman as the bitch professor. Her breasts were out on show, and her pussy glistened with his cum. 

"Pull your clothes back together," he ordered. She looked disappointed he wasn't going to play with her. It wasn't a good idea leaving her like this. He tried to think what to do with her. The maid game seemed the most innocuous, yet even that left her vulnerable. 

"You are a maid, my maid. Maid?" he pondered. The guys mentioned a maid, this morning. At a party there was a maid-bot with big tits. They had played with them and milked them. "Fuck!" he exclaimed.

Bob had her attention now. She swung her hips as though switched on, ready for something. "Were you a maid at a party last night? What did you wear?" Shit! The stupid daughter had used fellow students, to punish her mother. 

A thought came to mind, not believing it could be true, but it was a possibility. "Did you go to a party dressed as a maid-bot before that? Did I fuck you?" Shit! He had nearly taken the professor to the frat-house, for the guys to use as a fuck slut. He had been drunk enough to carry out too.

In this state she wouldn't last long at the university and he needed her too keep his grades high. If she went down, so would he. "When I'm not around you'll behave normally. You will be Professor Draper as usual, do you understand that?" he asked. 

"Yes, sir," she answered. A look of relief flashed into her eyes for a moment, only to be replaced by the vacant look. There was still a glimmer of the old self, so he would have to work on her to undo the damage.

***

They arrived at her home without encountering anyone, which was a relief to Bob. Rebecca wasn't there, as an added bonus. He worked on the professor with instructions, repairing and rebuilding the woman she once was. He managed a partial re-construction, hopefully enough to keep her out of trouble.

It was getting late. He had better go and collect Rebecca. 

***

Walking into the medical building he looked for a member of staff. Of course there would only be a temporary doctor and a nurse during the break. He had relied on the relief doctor, simply following the surgeons notes. It had worked too. They were probably on an extended break somewhere. 

Walking behind the front desk, he looked through the records, to find where Rebecca was recuperating. Conveniently she was in the first ward, just through the doors.

Still confused from the operation, she was unable to resist. She walked with him holding tight, wobbling along to the vehicle parked outside. Once at home she revived somewhat. She tried to get up from the chair, but was still too dizzy. 

"What are you doing here?" she asked. At least her voice had come back at full strength. 

"I had to collect you from the clinic," he smiled. 

"Why you? Why was I still there anyway, it was only supposed to be a check up," she complained. "I want you to go, right now," she petulantly told him.

"Don't you want to know what happened at the clinic?" he asked. He kept a straight face, not wanting to reveal his excitement, yet relishing telling her the news.

"What happened? How do you know?" she asked. She looked confused and disturbed.

"You had an implant fitted," he told her, waiting for a reaction.

She put a hand to the back of her head, feeling a small shaved patch, still slightly sore. "Shit! Did you do this? How the hell did you do this to me?" she shouted at him. Her eyes went wide, cutting off the question why.

"You shit! You are in big trouble, I'll get my mother to expel you!" she ranted.

"You're such a bitch. I guess you get it from your mother, all this prissy, holier than though attitude. You both think you're better than anyone else," he quietly spoke. 

The calmness of his voice held her, frightening her.

"In fact, that might be a good start to your initiation. Rebecca, you are a bitch," he announced slowly and clearly.

She looked at him with a startled look, as though he were mad. She needed to get away from him, to hide away in her bedroom. A sense of dread was overtaking her, making it difficult to think straight. She slid from the chair, onto the floor, still weak from the minor operation.

He stood to help her, but she didn't want him anywhere near her, let alone touching her. She looked up and growled at him. To her satisfaction he backed away, slumping back into the chair. 

Raising her body onto all fours, she was prepared to crawl away, despite the indignity of it. She looked up at him, to tell the bastard he was going to pay for this, "Bark, bark, yip," she said. 

Her eyes again widened, with the whites showing wildly. She tried again. "Woof," she managed, before choking on the sound of her voice. She looked at him, wanting to ask what he had done to her, not daring to speak.

"Is that you, Rebecca," a voice came from the kitchen. 

It was clearly her mother, and she sounded her old self. The strident voice was reassuring. Mom would sort this damn boy out. How dare he treat her like this! She was so angry, she could bite his leg. 

The familiar sound of the kitchen door swinging open and the purposeful stride of her mother calmed her. She stayed where she was, looking at him, trying not to growl like a bitch.

"There you are, where have you been?" her mother asked. 

Rebecca held back from complaining, hating the idea of barking like a dog. She was going to be rescued from this terrible situation, and that bastard would get a well deserved haranguing from mother. He would be expelled and arrested, for this terrible deed. She sighed with relief. This nightmare would soon be over.

Anne walked in and stared at her daughter on the floor, worried that she might be ill. She caught sight of Ben, sitting in an easy chair, and forgot all about her. 

"Oh! Master," Anne gasped. She lifted the dress around her waist, and got onto the floor. She sat on her haunches, with knees spread, and placed her hands palm upwards, on her knees. 

"Sorry master, your slave, didn't know her master was here," she said, with a plaintive tone. 

Rebecca gasped then yapped loudly. She cut off the offensive noise. What the hell had happened to her mother? Of course, it was the implant! She shivered in fear, for there would be no help from mom. Her mother was his slave, and she was behaving like a dog. Those fucking implants! He must have activated her mothers, turning her into his slave. It wasn't a bluff; she too, really did have an implant.

"How may slave serve master?" Anne asked.

"Sit there and be a good slave," Ben stated. He watched the woman bow her head in supplication.

"As for you, bitch, listen to me," he loudly spoke. "You are a bitch in heat, my pet bitch in heat," he stated. 

Rebecca understood the difference between this order and the previous. She didn't like the implications one bit. She backed away, pushing up against the chair she had fallen from. She wanted to scamper away from him, to find a nice warm basket, before it was too late.

This time she became aware of something, like a whisper in her mind. She hadn't been prepared for it before, though now she could feel it, like a cloud descending over her thoughts. The mist crept in, as much as she tried to stop it. Alien ideas warped their way in, from every direction, taking her over. It felt as though her mind was shrinking into a small circle, with the mist encompassing her thoughts.

"Woof," she managed to say, meaning to plead with him, to stop this awful game.

"Come here, my horny, pet bitch," Bob said, slapping his knees. 

Not wanting to, she nevertheless moved toward him. She shook her hips, as though waging a tail. It was all too much for her, she just let go, letting the game take over. She bounded to him, almost jumping onto his lap.

"Down, bitch. Calm down, there, there, good bitch," he said, while stroking her. He slapped her ass playfully, and felt her firm bottom. She rolled over for him to stroke her tummy. She opened her legs wide, when his big hand went between her legs. 

"You are such a cute bitch, a real bitch on heat," he told her.

He rubbed her crotch vigorously, eliciting little yelping noises of pleasure. Rebecca was crying inside, from the shame of it. She could feel her body responding to his touch, heating up with lust. She closed her legs on his hand and began riding it. She was rubbing her sex, through the jeans, against his big beefy hand. 

"That's enough, bitch," he told her. A dog doesn't wear clothes, take them off. "You too, slave," he said, to her mother."

She scratched at them, but her hands were acting like paws. She was desperate to get them off, in case her master became angry with her. 

"Here, calm down, sit still," he ordered. Bob managed to get her clothes off, despite the wriggling. He ran his fingers over her naked body. She rolled over on her back, relaxing her legs, letting them slide apart, almost sideways. She wasn't being prissy now! She was playing the part, as his bitch in heat, to perfection. 

Her mother looked impressive, the way she squatted, with back straight, pushing her large breasts up and out. 

"That's enough, the slave needs attention," he told the bitch. "It's milking time," he announced. She was leaking. "Come on bitch, help your master," he told Rebecca.

She looked at him with her head to one side, not understanding what he meant. 

"Come on, lick the slave," he told her, in a commanding voice. 

Rebecca gave him the sideways look again, but reluctantly crawled over to her mother. She sniffed her ass, then her pussy, giving it a lick. Finding it was wet she continued to lick her mother's pussy.

"Not there, you naughty bitch," Bob said, and playfully slapped her ass. Rebecca looked up at him with a mournful look, sorry that she had done something wrong, yet not understanding what it was.

He thought about what she had so naturally done, and how he could use this stupid bitch later. 

"Lick these tits, horny bitch," he ordered. 

She sniffed at the big breasts then licked a nipple. Once tasted, she carried on licking. 

"Suck on a breast properly," he ordered. Although a dog couldn't suck, she obeyed the order. He was pleased to see his slave put an arm around Rebecca's head, while her daughter fed on mother's milk. 

They changed to the other swollen teat, continuing to feed, and be fed. 

Bob was thinking about what to do with Rebecca, now he had her helpless. Besides the obvious, he would have to make long term plans. The bitch idea had kept her quiet, while the implant took over. He looked forward to playing with his new toy tonight, trying out different games.

He needed to give her instructions, so another game was needed. In the morning, she would have to become a sex slave, like her mother, as it was easier to control them that way. They were susceptible, and more capable of carrying out orders.

He smiled at the comforting picture, of a mother breast feeding her daughter. It was delightfully salubrious, with them both being naked, and the daughter being eighteen. His smile widened, at the thought that it was so symmetrical, like yin and yang, having a mother and daughter as his sex slaves.

There were so many possibilities to contemplate. 

Mother had been milked dry. She took a hold of her daughters face, and wiped it with the pair of panties she had just taken off.

They looked at him expectantly. He could see Anne's hand twitching, guessing that she was feeling that insistent throbbing between the legs. Rebecca was a bitch on heat, wanting satisfaction. 

"Undress me, slave," Bob ordered. He was looking forward to this. Perhaps Professor Draper could teach her daughter some tricks.



Human Android Ch. 12



All packed for a trip

(Please note; no animals were harmed in the making of this story. The bitch's are in Rebecca's head, and are fully human, doing human things to each other. As usual they are nasty things or, nice, if you are not on the receiving end of the humiliation. If you become confused, read chapter 11.)

***

Rebecca was upset. She was a beautiful eighteen year old woman, programmed to think she was a bitch on heat. She had been brought home from the hospital to find an implant had been fitted into her head. The horrifying discovery left her numb. It was so unexpected she was defenceless against the implants game rules, so it quickly over took her thoughts. 

It was especially deep in her mind, as it had been influencing her thinking all night.

Rebecca wanted to howl to relieve the feelings of rejection. She wet the kitchen floor, and the smelly puddle trapped her in one corner. A leash attached to her collar, was tied to a cupboard handle, and couldn't be undone with her paws. She whined morosely, fearing her owner would be angry when finding the mess. 

Rebecca loved her owner, as he had promised to look after her, which was another reason to feel bad. She had let him down. Last night her owner, Bob, let her jump onto the bed, with his bitch, called Anne. Rebecca was younger and fitter than bitch Anne, so surely he should favour her over the older bitch.

She wagged her non-existent tail, at the memory of being allowed on the master's bed. He was pleased when she licked bitch Anne's breasts, between her legs, and his cock. He encouraged her to lick bitch Anne's pussy, until she started moaning loudly. 

Master had praised her for being such a good little bitch. He had stroked her, working her up into a frenzy of sexual lust. It had been wonderful feeling so worked up, not caring about anything except being mounted. He had played with her sex but that wasn't enough. He had become displeased with her, when she began rubbing herself against him, and anything in the room that seemed phallic. 

Rebecca now realised where she had gone wrong. She should have been patient, waiting for him to take her. It was difficult though, for she so much wanted to breed with a male. She was a bitch in heat, desperately needing a male to mate with.

It was so unfair, for all she wanted was to mate with someone. It didn't matter who or how, she desperately needed to mate. He had told her to stop but she couldn't help wrapping her legs around him. When she had humped the pillow he slapped her ass. That is when he put her on the leash, and brought her down to the kitchen.

Sitting by herself, with nothing to hump, was getting her down. 

A man knocked on the kitchen door. She could smell his maleness, or so she thought. She barked loudly, telling him she was there and available. Rebecca pulled on the leash, needing to get to him, feeling sure he would sniff her ass, and find her acceptable. 

Larry knocked the kitchen door again. It was early enough that Anne might be up though her daughter, Rebecca, would still be in bed. He hadn't called since Rebecca answered the comm. He was concerned about Anne, worried she might be in trouble. Besides, he just wanted to see her. It didn't matter that she was a university professor, and he was a humble student. He had feelings for her. After the intimacies they shared, he hoped she might reciprocate. 

Rebecca thought it so unreasonable. Bitch Anne was upstairs with her master, probably still mating. She hadn't been given a chance. There was a male out there, and she couldn't get to him. She barked and whined, but it was no good. He had given up on her and was walking away. 

She lay on the heated floor, rubbing her sex on the smooth tiles. She had tried reaching it, to lick her sex, but couldn't. It was tantalisingly out of reach, however hard she tried. She closed her eyes, wondering who it might have been at the door.

If he had opened it, she would have shown more restraint, so as not to spoil the moment. She would have offered her bottom to him, so he could be sure she was ready to mount. The blissful, imagined feeling of having a male mount her, was dizzying. She imagined him spurting his seed into her, almost reaching a climax from just thinking about it.

She knew how lazy males became after taking their bitch. He would be sure to leave the door open. She would be free to roam the neighbourhood, seeking strays, enticing them to mount her. Rebecca wagged her hips with excitement, as though she had a tail.

She had watched last night with fascination, while bitch Anne, sucked her master's cock. She had been excited from how worked up he was. He had become so ready to mount bitch Anne, he grabbed her hips and fucked her hard. Given the chance to escape, Rebecca would suck every dog she came across. 

The idea of being full of so much seed, was working her up to a fever pitch again. This time she climaxed. On all fours, panting, she let out a low growl of satisfaction. 

***

"What have you done, you naughty bitch," Bob admonished Rebecca. 

Rebecca awoke from a dreamy snooze. It had been a wonderful dream, with every dog in the neighbourhood mounting her. They had queued up for her, she had been that popular. Now she looked dejected, with a hangdog expression, whimpering.

Bob untied the leash and guided her away from the puddle of pee. "Stay!" he commanded. With a cloth from under the sink he mopped up the mess. Even this was amusing, for nothing was going to spoil the pleasure of last night.

He had the professor and her daughter to play with! He hadn't had a chance to fuck Rebecca, though her enthusiasm had worked him up. She had enthusiastically licked him and rubbed her sex and breasts over his body. Eventually it had become a nuisance, as he wanted to concentrate on her mother.

It was so exciting he took the compliant professor twice. He thought about it, realising he had woken her up in the night, for a third session. A more leisurely fucking, where she used her experience, to work him up to a deep enjoyable orgasm. She too had orgasms, a few more than he did. 

Rebecca edged toward the door. If her master was in a mood there wouldn't be much chance of a fuck, so she would try to escape. The idea of meeting up with the pack of stray dogs, living nearby, was pulling at her instincts. The demand was dominating her thinking, exciting her beyond control. 

Bob opened the back door and threw, with a practised arm, the dirty cloth into the back garden. 

This was the chance she had been waiting for. She scrambled on all fours, toward the waiting freedom. All those rampant males out there were calling to her.

Bob wasn't just a football player he was the talented member of a winning team. He deftly grabbed her hair, pulling her back inside. He slapped her ass. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked.

He looked at her pleading eyes, and the wagging hips. For a moment he thought she wanted to pee outside. A flash of inspiration made him re-think. "You want to go and find a mate?" he asked. 

Rebecca barked enthusiastically. She was so pleased her master knew what she wanted. Her master was so clever. She rubbed herself against him, pushing her sex against his leg. She whimpered and raised her bottom toward him. If he let her go, she would run to the woods, where that pack of wild dogs hid out. 

"Damn!" he exclaimed. She was naked, wanting to go out there and fuck someone, anyone, by the look of her reaction. It was amusing seeing the self-important, stuck up Rebecca, reduced to this sexed up bitch on heat. If only he could let her go. The guys on campus would certainly take advantage. 

Perhaps he had it wrong. If she was so deeply influenced, convinced that she was a bitch, maybe it wasn't a guy she was looking for. "Damn!" he cursed again, with greater vehemence. 

"Enough! Down, roll over," he said. "Yuck! You need a bath first," he said, refraining from touching her thighs and belly. They were filthy from her juices, pee, and the dusty floor. When she tried to pull away, he realised calling this game had been a mistake. As a bitch on heat, she was too much to handle, and she couldn't talk either. That had been a bonus at first. 

"Sit! I said sit," he demanded. "Calm down," he smoothly said, stroking her long blonde hair, needing to calm the bitch. "Listen carefully. You are no longer a bitch in heat," he intoned. He looked down at the young woman, sinking onto the floor. 

A look of confusion revealed the whites of wide open, wildly staring eyes. She closed them tight. A whimper of fright escaped her lips, no longer sounding like a bitch, more human.

"Oh, my, god!" she whispered. 

The doggy thoughts were just a fantasy, but they seemed like personal memories. It was hard to shake off the feelings that went with them. She pulled her legs up into a foetal position, wrapping her arms around her body. She had wanted to escape out the kitchen door; nearly succeeding too. She knew why it had been so important to escape, and a slight feeling of desperation remained.

If she had escaped, to hide out in the woods, would she have been found? There was a well known pack of dogs, hiding out there. They were sometimes a nuisance, though never enough to track down. Bob wouldn't have been able to find her by himself, and he dare not ask for help. 

She would have lived with the pack, as a wild bitch, always on heat. The implications of what she had been, and what might have happened, were horrendous. After the pack leader had taken her, the others would too. That dream, where dogs were queuing up to mount her, would have become real. Rebecca shuddered from a spasm of fear, and from unwanted sexual arousal.

"Listen carefully! You are a sex slave, you are my sex slave," Bob intoned, slowly and cautiously. 

He noticed Anne walk in, showered and ready.

"Master, how may I serve you," Anne dutifully spoke. 

Rebecca heard the statement, feeling the implant program invading her mind. At first she wanted to fight it, though not knowing how. She tried to confront it, only it was flooding in like a high tide, closing in all around her. She felt as though she were caught in a dark room. It was shrinking around her, becoming a balloon, deflating, with her conscious mind shrinking to nothing.

It would be better than being a bitch in heat. That had been dangerous. Her mother was his sex slave, so why not her. It seemed a more acceptable game than, than, what? She could subsume herself in the game and forget about everything else.

She looked up at Bob, wanting to smile and thank him for letting her serve him. She knew he would look after her, for he was a good master. She would be happy, devoting her life to learning his needs. She would gladly serve him with all her ability. 

Her mother could teach her to be a skilled sex slave. She would please her master all the more, after learning his favourite sexual needs. She would prepare herself, ready for master's use.

"Take, err, take this slave and wash her thoroughly," he ordered.

Over breakfast his eyes scanned a screen, while shovelling in cereal. The specifications for the implant were not something of interest to him, usually, so they would have been tough going. He absorbed the information like a sponge. It was clear. The implant shouldn't have been used, for at least twenty-four hours. He had activated it less than a couple of hours after the operation.

"Oops!" he exclaimed, feeling guiltier than the expression revealed. "Shit! I hope she hasn't been damaged," he sighed. "What am I going to do with them?" he asked himself. This was a great opportunity, though long term, something had to be arranged to avoid discovery.

***

The two slaves squatted on the floor waiting for their master. Rebecca felt terrible. She was naked, showing off her breasts to Bob. Her mother was naked, right next to her. She looked at her breasts and felt awful. They were just too small. She needed huge tits like her mothers, so as to impress her master. 

"Have you milked your mother, for breakfast?" Bob asked Rebecca.

"Yes master," she replied.

"Have you had enough to eat?" he asked. 

"Yes, master," they chimed in unison.

"Any thing else, that you want?" he asked. 

Rebecca was the first to make a request. "Master, can slave have big tits like slave Anne?" she timidly asked.

The eager look in her eyes brought a smile to his face. Rebecca had been a stuck up bitch in college, relying on her mother's position to get way with it. She was now an obedient and eager slave. 

An incentive for Rebecca to behave herself was to avoid being turned into a bitch. The doggy memoires were still haunting her dreams. She was desperate to please him, and to be an obedient slave girl, for her master. 

"If you are very obedient, you can have some big tits," Bob told her. 

Rebecca fidgeted, forcing her thighs wider apart, straightening her back, pushing her breasts up and out at her master.

Bob had the professor's codes, so sent a message to her secretary. She would be working from home this week. The news of her husband leaving would sure to be circulating the campus grapevine by now, so it would be understandable. 

It was doubtful anyone would tackle the hard nosed professor, though just in case, she was ordered to act like the professor. It seemed to be just surface deep, so she couldn't be trusted to go into college. 

Her daughter could stay off for the week too. What to do with them after that was a problem. 

Bob didn't mind cutting classes, though football practise was a different matter entirely. This morning he would study, despite the distractions. 

He tried to concentrate on the screen, but the slaves were becoming noisy. They had been kneeling at his feet, licking his balls and cock between them. They took turns, over his penis and sack, licking and sucking, until he was rock hard. He ached, but wasn't going to give in yet. 

Looking under the desk he could see they were starting to squabble. Like children over a bag of sweets. 

"Stop it! Both of you!" he admonished them. "Slave Anne is obviously aroused, she needs taking care of," Bob told Rebecca. "Let go of me and see to your mother," he told her.

Rebecca turned her mother on her back and crawled between her legs. 

"Wait. Turn around, more. Rest your pussy over her face," Bob told Rebecca. He got up and pushed a cushion under Anne's head, forcing her face into Rebecca's pussy. She wasn't avoiding her daughter's pussy. It was because her huge breasts were in the way.

Rebecca was poised over her mother's pussy, eagerly waiting to suck and probe, if only to please her master. Having her pussy probed at the same time would be a new experience for her, so he was keen to see the effect.

"Ok! Start licking, slaves," he said, giving them permission. Anne was frustrated, due to orgasm as usual, so needed stimulating. It seemed she needed to be milked a couple of times a day, and needed to orgasm on a regular basis. Becoming excited was a disruption from her usual passive slave state.

He watched them at it for awhile. They seemed to calm down, so it would keep them happy for awhile. In the meantime he could concentrate on searching for an off-campus apartment. It needn't be too far away, just far enough to be off the radar. 

The two problems were, getting them there, and keeping them out of trouble. The cost had been solved after looking at the professors finances. It was ironic that she would be financing her own slavery.

A loft conversion, above an old warehouse, looked perfect. It was in an unfashionable part of the city meaning it was cheap, with no nosy neighbours. It had been completed, only for the developer to go out of business. The rest of the warehouses remained undeveloped and unsold. 

"Perfect!" he exclaimed. 

"Thank you master," the two slaves whispered, through their deep breathing. 

They returned to the deep tonguing of each others vagina. Their faces were messy with sex juices. Anne was obviously close to a climax. She was pushing her lips at her daughter, attempting to absorb the girls tongue and fingers. Rebecca was furiously rubbing fingers over a swollen clit. 

Anne desperately needed to cum. The state of arousal lifted the cloud obscuring her thoughts. She knew a woman was fucking her, and that she too was sucking pussy lips into her mouth. Nibbling on them caused the woman to nibble on hers. Rubbing the woman's clit had the same effect upon her gasping hole. 

It was as though she was fucking herself, and the effect was deliriously wonderful. 

Anne became gradually aware that her whole existence revolved around being Bob's faithful sex slave. She was becoming tormented, knowing how far she had sunk into being Bob's sex slave. That knowledge was more than humiliating, it was disastrously painful. 

She knew these moments before an orgasm was all she had, before slipping once more into a cationic state. The throws of a deep orgasm started to rock her. She revelled in the feeling of utter bliss. All too soon the cloud of blackness drifted in upon her, closing down rational thought.

"No! Please, let me go, let me be free!" she whimpered. The gargled sounds, from around her daughter's sopping pussy went unheard. 

Rebecca too climaxed. Not so dramatically as her mother, yet satisfying anyway. She wondered when her master would take her, making her devoted slavery complete. 

"Thank you master, for letting me cum," they said, one after another, as they recovered.

Bored with work he searched for toys. He realised their needs were more than he could cope with. His balls ached, needing to be emptied, and it was Rebecca's turn. He decided to get football practise over with before satisfying her. It would be fun, taking her while her mother watched.

"There, that's it!" he said, quietly. Among the strange devices was something unexpected. He hadn't searched for it, just coming across it by accident, but it was just the thing he needed. 

The basket was full of goodies, ready to be paid for and delivered. He looked at the professor, still heaving deep breaths. She was paying for these torture instruments. They would be pleasure gifts, he decided, not just pleasurable for them either.

Careful instructions had them working on the house, tidying and cleaning, and avoiding attracting attention. They were dressed modestly and would be their usual unwelcoming selves, if visitors dared to call. 

Football practise went well. They were a highly motivated team, and Bob more so that usual. He felt full of energy. He felt powerful, yet in control of himself. For a couple of hours he forgot about the professor and her daughter. Back in the lockers he had a big smile on his face, knowing his grades would be good, so he could focus on the coming games. 

He discovered that being in control of a college professor, and her daughter, gave him a sense of power and control. Others noticed the effect, but would never guess how he suddenly began to manage his strength and enthusiasm. A pre-season game was announced, and he couldn't wait to test himself against them. 

On arriving at the professor's house he found them busy with each other. Anne was lying on the floor wearing nothing, except a strap-on dildo. 

"Ease down it, slowly, that's it, sweetheart," Anne encouraged her daughter. "Take a deep breath. Now try again, slowly," she advised Rebecca. "This time suck in air from around its head. Keep going, sweetie, now get into a steady rhythm."

Bob watched them from the doorway, while they were absorbed in a training exercise. Rebecca's mouth was gripping the dildo, as it disappeared down her throat. He watched the muscles of her neck relax then expand, as the dildo slid down it. 

They were both oblivious to his presence, as they practised a dutiful slave's skills. "Well done, Rebecca," he beamed at her. "You too Anne, you're a good teacher," he smiled at them.




Human Android Ch. 12



They scrambled away from each other, to take up their pose. Side by side, they squatted on the floor, with knees pulled apart, sitting upright, pushing out their breasts. Both hands were palm up, perched on their knees. They looked down at the carpet, at a point just in front of them.

Anne must have taught her daughter this pose too, while he was out. Anne's large, luscious breasts were still impressive, especially when thrust out at him. Rebecca's younger body was firm, with perfectly smooth skin. Her mother too looked youthful, though more sumptuous, with larger hips and a slim waist under the impressive breasts.

"Master," Rebecca said. She needed her master's attention, though as a slave, she could only hope for permission to speak. 

"Yes, slave," Bob said.

"Your slave girl has learnt a new skill, may she use it, please," Rebecca pleaded. She wanted to look up at him but had learnt to be deferential. Her mother had been tutoring her all afternoon, and her bottom was red to show mistakes had been made.

"Dinner first, then my slaves may play," he firmly said. 

"Yes, master," they squealed, in delight, knowing they were to receive a reward. Jumping up from the floor, they chanced a glance at him, before running to the kitchen. He could hear them excitedly chattering to each other, probably discussing what they wanted to do with him, hoping for permission.

Bob searched through the medical records to find out what packages had been installed on their implants. The code number was noted, and he looked through the list of games available. Some packages were for purely medical purposes, but theirs were for sexual fantasy games. 

Having these two prissy, arrogant women, as his sex slaves ready to pander to his whims, was staggering. He was enjoying the power he had over them, still not used to it. Rebecca was an intellectual, taking after her mother, thinking she was above everyone in college. 

They certainly wouldn't entertain an ignorant football player in their home, yet here he was, with them both obeying his every command. They were even developing their sexual skills, to pleasure him. From what Anne told him of her exploits, over the past few weeks, she had learnt enough to become a professional whore. That she was teaching her daughter those skills was hilarious. 

He stopped searching, on seeing one of the listed games, to read some details. They were intellectuals, so calling on this particular program, seemed cruelly appropriate. The bimbo game would be a humbling retribution, to an academic and a first class scholar. The two of them playing such a lowly role, would be an excruciating reckoning. 

They would act like brainless girls, giggling and preening themselves, mainly concerned with clothes and make-up. They would forget all about college and a professional career, to concentrate on sparkly jewellery and getting a man's attention. As it was a sex game, they would always be horny, looking to be laid. Much as they were now. 

The only difference being, they would be dressing up, wantonly showing off their sexy bodies. All their efforts would be directed towards enhancing their chances of getting a cock. 

They would be stupid Bimbo's, easily fooled by anyone who flattered them. They would agree to sex, on the flimsiest of pretexts. So they would have to be watched, and looked after. He wasn't ready for that, just yet.

Planning for the future, he looked for slutty clothes and sparkly jewellery. 

They served him dinner, eagerly gushing over him, trying to make him happy, in anticipation of what was to follow. He made them eat too, as they were too excited to concentrate on food.

Bob sat back on a comfortable sofa, trying to relax. He thought Rebecca was going to show off her new skill, as she was so eager to deep-throat him. Instead they both took a hold of his cock. Between them they licked it and took turns to suck its head. They slurped over it, making it wet and slippery.

He watched intently as Rebecca pushed her head down, lower and lower, until she kissed his crotch. She seemed in absolute control, not hesitating a moment, bobbing her head in a steady rhythm over the length of his cock. 

Anne gripped its base, close to his sack, though the tightness of Rebecca's throat was enough to hold him back. Anne took over, bobbing her head up and down the length of his cock. It became a mother and daughter relay, one after another, taking his engorged cock down their throats.

Despite his efforts, and theirs, he couldn't last long from such expert stimulation. He should have kept his eyes closed, as the image of them sucking his cock was so powerfully stimulating. Knowing he was about to cum, Anne held is cock, aiming it at their faces.

Bob spurted his cum, while Anne gently pumped him. Both faces were close, with gleeful expressions, being spattered with his hot sperm. They laughed happily, at having globs of his cum sticking to their faces. 

"Can we eat your cum now master," they pleaded. 

He was too winded to reply, so they sat there looking contented from pleasing him. Anne flicked her eyelashes as a blob of cum nearly seeped into an eye. Neither of them made a move to remove his sperm, while obediently awaiting his command.

"OK!" he gasped. Bob avidly watched them stroking his cum off their faces, making an exaggerated meal of the sticky fluid. Licking it from their fingers with sucking noises, they slurped the last between pouting lips. 

"More, please, master, can we have more?" they chirped together, with pleading looks in their eyes. 

"It might take a lot longer this time," he said. It was a superb prospect, sitting there all evening, with two luscious women sucking him dry. He had arrived home to witness the end of Rebecca's training. She had obviously been studying hard for some hours, being taught the skills of a professional whore. 

He had to remind himself, she was a sex slave, so naturally had to learn to please her master. It was all the more delicious that the once conceited, young woman had learnt these decadent skills, from her mother. She had learnt to give pleasure, rather than take what ever she wanted from others. 

Not exactly a lesson she would have chosen to learn. This was certainly not something on the curriculum of the university. Neither was it something a daughter expected to learn from her mother. Bob relished the prospect all the more from it being so perverse and decedent.

Anne took the lead this time. She gently sucked on is flaccid cock, looking up at him with large adoring eyes. They had stripped his clothes from him, stroking and licking his revealed flesh. They giggled like school-girls while complimenting his muscular body. 

He had to remind himself Anne was a professor, head of the Business Studies department, where he was a student. She relinquished his cock, letting her daughter take over. She was less skilled, with more enthusiasm, wanting him to recover quickly. 

"Slowly, Rebecca, Master needs time to recover," Anne admonished her daughter. "Here let me show you," she advised. With long fingernails she scratched and stroked his balls. Her lips lightly sucked on his cock, with a tongue exploring it, around and around in her mouth.

When at last he had an orgasm his balls ached, from pleasure and torment. Rebecca didn't let go she took it all in her mouth, not wanting to share the precious juice with her mother. She sat back on her haunches assuming the slave pose, and opened her mouth. 

"You may swallow," he announced. 

Rebecca was horny but Anne was red hot with lust. She hadn't been satisfied for several hours and needed to orgasm. Since being attached to the devil machine in a club, she needed a regular orgasm, or would become edgy with frustration.

"Put on that dildo and ride each other, you both deserve some pleasure, slaves," he told them. It was amusing watching them become so animated and excited. 

Anne fumbled with the straps, in her haste to get ready. Though, she didn't have the slightest trouble inserting the large dildo, into her soaking wet vagina. Anne helped guide the other end into Rebecca's needy hole. 

Bob put a foot on Anne's back, holding her still. He wound a strap around her waist and clipped another between her legs, fastening it to the dildo. Their pussies were locked together, in a tight, intimate embrace. 

Bob watched them humping each other. It looked more like a wrestling match, as they cavorted on the floor. First one was on top, then the other. 

"Not yet, I'm not ready to cum," Rebecca complained. 

Anne was obviously more than ready for an orgasm. Despite trying to hold back she spluttered to a halt, gripping the dildo tight with inner muscles and her thighs. Her whole body became motionless, gripped in an all consuming orgasm. 

Rebecca tried to lift her hips, from under the heavier woman. She wriggled under the inert woman, needing to feel the dildo pump her sex. Eventually she managed to turn her mother over. Once on top, she began to fuck her mother and herself, with the double ended dildo. 

For awhile, Anne just lay like a sweaty rag doll, being fucked by her daughter. She had no sooner recovered from a deep orgasm, when she became worked up again. Not so aggressively this time, she reacted to the thrusts with counter movements, pushing and pulling, feeling the large dildo working her sex.

Bob was tired, though not so tired, that he couldn't enjoy the spectacle, of these two naked women, fucking each other. 

Anne was getting back into a steady, pleasurable rhythm, when Rebecca climaxed. When Anne climaxed again, Rebecca was starting off on another enjoyable journey toward an orgasm; and so it went on, one after another. They were out of synch, keeping each other going for two hours, until they became too exhausted to move. 

They lay panting on the floor locked together by the dildo. Like Siamese twins, they were joined together by their sex. 

Bob undid the straps, wondering what else he could do with two sexy slaves. There were plenty of games to play with them, and the internet would provide ever more inspiration.

They bathed each other and retired to bed, exhausted and happy. That night they didn't awake for a nocturnal sex session.

***

The second week arrived with Bob feeling nervous. He had worked hard on his two slaves. He left Anne working on Rebecca, turning her into an accomplished sex machine. 

He had the task of preparing them for college as he needed the professor to be around, giving him good grades. They weren't going to return exactly as they had been before, though near enough to join a class, and to run a department. 

He hoped so, knowing it could easily all go disastrously wrong. He was optimistic over anyone detecting a wrongness of behaviour. Their subdued demeanour would be put down to the husband leaving. It would be expected that the righteous professor, would be shaken from her pedestal of correctness. Rebecca would also be upset, as she too was a prissy madam, expecting to be treated like royalty, by humble students.

He put it around, that he was studying with the professor, to gain extra credits. In return, he had to be her gofer. He hoped it was a viable explanation, as to why he was spending so much time with her.

Following her into her office, he screwed up his face at her secretary, as a sign that she was in a bad mood. He trotted out to fetch a cup of coffee. "I wouldn't bother her for awhile, she's liable to bite your head off," Bob told Angela. 

"Hey, no need to tell me what she's like," the long suffering secretary whispered. 

Bob left her working in her office, after reinforcing the instructions to behave as usual. Football practise couldn't be missed. He just hoped Rebecca was alright. 

In class everyone left her alone. They knew she could sulk when not getting her own way. This quietness was different though. They figured she was ashamed over her father walking out of the family home. With counselling, and marriage guidance so prevalent these days, it was rare to have a marriage fail. 

On arriving at the professors home he found them quietly working. The professor on the usual administration tasks, and Anne was working on assignments. Everything seemed normal. He breathed a sigh of relief. They dutifully reported on the events of the day. Thankfully nothing had gone wrong, as it was the usual boring college life they all experienced.

***

The pre-season match came around too quickly. 

They had settled into a routine, as master and his slaves. Bob had researched the implants, until he understood the mechanism and the dangers. He was worried about them both, for he had become responsible for them. He was more than a team captain he had grown to feel for them both. 

He was going to have to repair the damage somehow. It was no longer the sex, or the power he had over them. He tried not to think of the relationship as love. He told himself it had developed into caring one, as with an owner and his pets. 

He left them preparing dinner. 

Pulling a recently delivered toy from the packaging, he wondered if he dare use this new device. It was too dangerous leaving them alone, while he went to an away game. It would also be a good idea, according to the coach, not to have sex the night before a game. He wasn't so sure about that, but it suited the circumstances.

They had been at it every night for the past three weeks, and he felt in need of a rest. They had tried every combination between the three of them, as though working through the karma sutra. The toys they used were usually between the two women, for they were insatiable.

It was time for an early night. Both women were naked, eagerly waiting to see what he had planned for them. It was still a thrill to see their smooth skin, even though they stripped off at the slightest excuse. They had developed a voracious appetite for uninhibited sex. He put that down to having the rules of behaviour lifted from them, so the usual moral reticence no longer existed. 

Rebecca lay back on the bed, with a sheet under her. Bob zoomed in on the procedure showing on the small screen. He had watched it many times, wondering if this tricky bit could be carried out. If not, his plans would come to nothing. 

At least the video bore a similarity to the real thing, compared to the confusing medical pictures and diagrams. He eased the catheter into Rebecca, and the job was done. He breathed a sigh of relief. 

Anne looked at him in confusion. Her legs were spread wide, as she had practised regularly with her mother. They often showed him how adept they had become, with their legs pulled right back. It was amazing what could be achieved with determined practise. 

"Master?" she asked.

Bob refused her permission to speak, knowing she was curious to know what sexual game she was expected to play. 

"Your master wants slave to pee," he commanded. He quickly looked down making sure the other end of the tube, was over a container. He was relieved to see a stream of piss squirt into the plastic carton. 

"You next, slave," he said, to Rebecca. Again the procedure was a success. "Perhaps I should transfer to the medical team," he laughed, from the relief of tension, and their literal relief.

With tubes dangling from between their legs, they stood looking bemused. This game didn't seem to be leading to a sexual relief of any kind. If it pleased their master though, they would just have to bow to his demands. 

"Slip these on," he said. 

The two women swapped curious looks, wondering what was going on. They helped each other pull on thick rubber mittens. From the wardrobe their master pulled out a heavy, black, rubber bag then another. 

"Rebecca, get into this one," he ordered. 

Obediently she wriggled into it, finding her legs fitted snugly into leggings. It was a tight fit, but she managed to burrow into the bag. Just her head and breasts stuck out, lying on a soft pillow. 

Ben pulled the catheter tube through a hole and zipped the bag up under her chin. He fitted earphones over her ears. He pulled the hood down over her face, attaching a mouth piece, before sealing her in. He listened to her gasping breaths. Satisfied she could breath, he spoke into a microphone. 

"Slave, Rebecca, listen to your master. Be calm and relax, your master is here to look after you. Your master loves you," he added, and was surprised to hear those words. He realised they were meant. To shake off the emotion, he went through the mental check list. 

For a moment he listened to her steady, calm breathing. Snapping his fingers, he undid the bag, reached inside, and switched off the implant. Zipping it back up, he ran his hands over the thick rubber, making sure it was completely sealed. Attaching the computer leads, to the earphones, completed the process.

"Now you slave," he said to Anne. From the look of fear in her eyes, he expected resistance. After all, her implant hadn't been switched on for weeks. There was a brief hesitation. Despite seeing her daughter engulfed in a rubber shroud, she wriggled into the tight sheath. 

Anne was a larger size than her daughter so he had to help her squeeze in. For a moment he thought her breasts wouldn't fit. Eventually he managed to manoeuvre the zip between her breasts. 

The two women were encased in the bags, ready to be stowed safely away. The bulge in Anne's bag, where her large breasts stuck up, meant it was possible to tell them apart. If someone didn't know, it would never be guessed there was someone inside. 

The two anonymous storage bags were dragged into the dressing room, to be hidden under old clothing. He listened to their breathing, the only sign of life. The catheter tubes were attached to large containers. He hoped they would be large enough.

Two tubes stuck out the top of the bag. He attached one to a water container, the other to a liquid feed. There was enough in there for several weeks, though he would only be away for a day and a half, including tonight. 

The computer program was initiated, feeding soothing sounds into their earphones. At intervals they would be told to suck on the water and food tubes, fixed into their mouths. Also, there would be soothing commands, designed to help them relax, and to contemplate their existence.

Bob was still anxious. He woke up in the night, missing the beautiful, smooth, soft naked bodies that usually snuggled up to him. He got up and listened to their breathing. He wanted to caress their wonderful supple bodies. He knew he must sleep, for the game tomorrow. With determination he managed to fitfully sleep.

Rising early he prepared mentally for the game. One more check on his wonderful, pet slaves was needed for reassurance.

***

The game went well. An opposition player sprained an ankle and Ben took it hard. His team mates playfully jeered him for going soft. It wasn't that. The thought of having to stay in hospital, recovering there for a few days, shook him up. He could hardly tell anyone, Professor Draper and her daughter were incarcerated at home.

How could he explain away that kinky situation? Eventually he joined in the laughter, though he was laughing at the thought of the rumours, if they were found. 

Ironically his concern for the injured player had him voted favoured player of the game. He relaxed and joined in the after match wind-down. There was one brief moment of panic, when he found they were to stay overnight. A call to the home computer found they were breathing calmly, and their pulses were normal. When someone offered him a beer for a second time, he relented.

In the middle of the night Ben sat up in bed, covered in sweat from a dream that seemed so real. 

The contents of the professor's house were up for auction. There was no way he could match the bids for the closet contents, which was the only thing of interest to him. The entire contents of their closet had gone to an unknown bidder. 




Human Android Ch. 12



He saw the two rubber bags being carted away in the back of a truck. There was no driver or passenger, so it was impossible to find out who had bought them. The two vulnerable women had been carted off, to an unknown destination, now owned by a stranger.

They had been programmed to be sex slaves, ready to obey a master. Now they had been purchased, they had an owner, a real master. It wouldn't take long for a man to discover they were thoroughly obedient, and thereafter, their sexual skills would be discovered. As devoted sex slaves, they would perform any perversion he cared to demand. 

"I should have used the professors money to out bid him," Ben muttered, then fell back to seep.



Human Android Ch. 13



Chapter 13

Waking into a new life

(This chapter brings the characters into a new mode, clearing the decks for a new set of adventures -- my excuse for it being boring! To Mr anonymous - hope it suits you sir!) 

Rebecca stirred in the dark, wondering where she was. She could squirm, though only just. Her legs were gripped tight, with both caught in a separate sleeve of plastic. Her hands were in gloves, so she couldn't feel what had engulfed her body. A blindfold effectively covered her eyes, blocking out all light. Earphones covered her ears, muffling all sound from the outside world.

The plastic bag she was poured into had been vacuum sealed, meaning all the air was sucked out of it, plastering it to her shape. She breathed through a tube and was fed through another. It felt like being in a coffin. Being so tightly sealed in, she began to panic, breathing rapid short breaths.

A deep voice told her to calm down. "You are safe, and your master will look after you. You are to rest and relax," the voice commanded. 

She hadn't realised how much she was panicking, until the familiar voice instructed her to relax. It had been her master's deep, calming voice. Her master? This was a strange idea, almost as much as being in the dark, cut off from the world. Her master? It started to come to mind what had happened over the last couple of weeks. 

She was a sex slave! The thought rushed into her mind, to violently collide with a stack of moral inhibitions. She began to calm down, relaxing as her master commanded. Rational thoughts slowly returned. This strange idea of being a slave, of having a master, had to be worked out. 

How had such a weird thing happened? Why had she accepted such a lowly position? She was an 'A' student, with a promising future, so how could such a humiliating thing happen? 

She remembered the brain implant and recoiled from the idea of it. The thing in her head was used, to engage in role play games. Someone had triggered it, so she was forced to play at being a lowly, cute little pet. It had been a simple, compelling game, though terribly frustrating while only able to talk in yaps, and barks. 

The memories were so real, as if she really had been a family's pet dog. Her sex became inflamed, from the memory of that game. 

Damn! She hadn't been a cute, friendly family pet. She had been a bitch on heat. The frustration of being on heat, of needing her master to satisfy her, was so powerful even now. Rebecca could feel her sex become intensely aroused. As much as she tried, it was impossible to reach her pussy, or even rub her thighs together. Her memories and thoughts were stoking her up, leaving her feeling immensely frustrated. 

In the blackness it all seemed so real. She was a bitch, aching for a dog to satisfy her. These memories were hers, from the day she had played the game. From now on a small part of her would be that bitch on heat, panting for a male.

Quickly moving on, Rebecca recalled another game had been invoked. She had become a sex slave. Not just playing at it either, she had actually become one. For the last two weeks she had lived, breathed, and thought of herself as a sex slave. 

Bob! He had done this to her! He had enslaved her! He must have put her into this container, whatever it was. She tried to struggle, but it was impossible to move. What had he done to her? With that hideous implant, he could make her do anything. He could and did, have her performing like a helpless sex pet, now this!

She remembered discovering her mother's implant, and what it had done to her. Anne had become a mindless, obedient doll. She had looked after her, or rather had her waiting upon her like a simple maid. Rebecca felt guilty over that. Though, at the time, it had seemed a just retribution, for her father leaving them.

Where was her mother now? Was her master playing with Anne, as his compliant sex doll? A wave of jealousy swept through her mind, swamping the thoughts of anger and fear. The voice cut her thoughts off. It was her master, telling her to be calm and that he would look after her.

Surely it was wrong to think of him as her master? Rebecca realised the implant was inactive. Yet, she had a residue of ideas that were alien to her. It was important to work out what was happening, and to somehow fight the feelings. Her mother had been overwhelmed by the implant, for it had been active for too long, influencing her thinking. Had this happened to her?

Her mind was in turmoil. This mental manoeuvring was the only movement possible, in the tight confines of the bag. Her mind was somewhat free, to explore the tiny world that existed to her. That was all, while everything else was locked out. Sight, touch, sound, smells, all her senses were denied. 

"Relax. Your master will look after you," a voice quietly commanded in the darkness. The computer program was timed to give instructions. It was her only contact with the outside world. 

"Suck on the pipe for water," it told her. 

As though it were a life line she sucked at the pipe, tucked into the corner of her mouth. A measured dose of water dribbled in, which she gratefully sipped. It was something to do, and it was a distraction, from the bleak nothingness of her existence.

"Suck on the pipe for nourishment," the voice intoned. 

Again she sucked, to be given a liquid feed. Together with the voice, this was her only relief from the emptiness. After awhile she longed to hear the reassuring words. As the long night stretched inerrably on and on, she looked forward to hearing the voice. It became a vital life line.

"Empty your bladder," the voice unexpectedly commanded. 

Without a thought she did. She didn't wet herself, as that too was taken care of. It proved her master was in complete control of her body. He was looking after her. She could feel something in her pussy, not realising it was a catheter. The voice commanded her to eat, drink, urinate, and relax, so she did. 

The reassuring voice told Rebecca to relax, and that her master would look after her. She believed it. As the minutes passed like hours she became more dependent upon the voice of her master. Instructions were obeyed without question. 

***

Anne had already retreated into her own world of darkness, before climbing into the bag. It had been a safety mechanism, to protect her mind. She needed to escape from the dreadful, humiliating acts she was compelled to commit, with those uncaring men. Her thoughts had been locked away, in a quiet corner of her mind.

In the calm, placid darkness of the bag, her mind began to recover. The commanding voice reassured her. She began to realise the implant was inactive, and that its influence was receding. 

She didn't resent the black nothingness, for it was a rest from the terrible outside world. The deep, reassuring voice helped her recover her equilibrium. Within the confines of a safe new world, she could once more relax. There was nothing to do but obey the rich toned, comforting voice. No longer was there the torment, from men, taking advantage of her, making her play nasty sex games.

Anne too, drank, ate, urinated and relaxed, under the influence of the commanding, comforting voice.

***

Bob arrived back on campus with the football team, and they were ready to party. The guys couldn't believe Bob was prepared to take the trainers advice; to get an early night. They cajoled him, telling him to live up to his reputation. He eventually escaped the football team, with the promise to join them later, at the frat house. 

He jogged toward his apartment until out of sight. With an abrupt turn, through the trees, he made steady progress toward the faculty housing area. A well used, familiar track, led to the back of Professor Draper's house. He let himself into the kitchen, and stood still, quietly listening. 

A hissing noise from the air-conditioner was all he heard. There was no sense of anyone being home; the house felt deserted. The sink was dry, and other telltale signs, revealed the kitchen hadn't been used in the last couple of days. He silently padded through the house, to the professors bedroom. 

He hesitated a moment, recalling the nightmare while away, at the football game. It was unlikely they had been discovered, though it was possible. There could be a college cop, waiting for him. He intended being away for only the one night, though it ended up being two nights. After three days, there was no telling what state they were in. 

He opened the closet door and walked in. Bob listened to the calm steady breathing, as air was sucked from the two plastic tubes. Disconnecting a computer cable and the tubes, he apprehensively unzipped one of the bags. A sweaty face was revealed, with eyes and ears covered. A pungent body odour wafted up at him.

Anne was alive, but how was she, after being in there for so long? Seventy-two hours must have seemed like weeks. Eventually he pulled the wrappings from the inert woman. The headphones and blindfold was still on. Bob removed them and told her to take a shower, but she couldn't rise off the floor. After helping her up, she stood shakily for a moment, before tottering off to the bathroom. 

Anne's daughter, Rebecca, was next.

Anne stood under the hot stream of water, not thinking, just feeling her body. She lathered, rinsed, and dried. Almost falling on weakened legs, she managed to reach the bedroom door, with hands patting the walls on the way. She watched her daughter emerge from the closet. Rebecca was helped to the bathroom, looking as bad as she felt.

It was a relief that the past weeks were over. It was so good knowing the implant was inactive. At last she was recovering from the dreadful effects, of that nasty, invasive device. She stumbled to the bed, and fell onto it. Her body felt so weak and heavy. The lights were off, yet the ambient light seemed so bright. A bird sang outside the window, sounding loud and crystal clear.

Rebecca staggered into the room, helped by Bob. She began to slip to the floor, so he gently lowered her, until she sat on the carpet. She had a vacant, placid look on her face.

"What have you done?" Anne croaked. She whispered, yet her voice sounded too loud. Slithering off the bed, to fall next to her daughter, Anne intended to protect and comfort Rebecca. Putting both arms around her, she stroked the long clean hair. 

"What have you done to us? You shouldn't be here! Why are you here?" Anne whispered. Something of her old-self was returning, though her voice sounded weak from disuse. 

She knew who this young man was, he was a student. His name was Bob, and he had done something to them both. She just couldn't think about the past, didn't want to, she needed to forget.

He shouldn't be in her bedroom or even in her home. It was terribly wrong to be naked in front of him, yet she was more concerned for Rebecca, than thinking about covering her body. She was a professor at the university, though that was hardly the point. For the sake of decency, he should at least turn away from them.

She felt so weak and vulnerable, unable to defend herself, let alone her daughter. "You must go, get out!" she shouted. 

"Sorry! I wanted to help you. You needed to recover from the implant," Bob muttered. 

It was sort of true, but of course they weren't going to see it that way. After all, he had taken advantage of them. He had played a nasty game with them both, over the past couple of weeks. He had them pandering to his whims, like sex pets. Now they were free of the implant, what had he expected? They were hardly going to be grateful, after what he put them through.

Bob started to think about his career, that he might be thrown out of college. It would be his fault. That didn't make it any easier to face up to. It had been just too tempting to play with them. He should have just blackmailed the professor, into giving him higher grades.

"I wanted to look after you," he countered. This time, his tone of voice was deeper, and more assertive. 

He was trying to justify his actions, knowing they were wrong. It hadn't been him that started it all. The professor had put herself in that helpless position, experiencing all kinds of distasteful situations, before he caught her. 

He had planned on them not complain to the authorities. After all, the professor was one of those imposing faculty members. She wouldn't want this, and everything else, to get out. It would be highly embarrassing for the professor and her daughter.

"If you're sure you are alright, I'll leave you to it. I'll just go," he stated firmly. His strong manly voice resonated around the room.

"No!" Rebecca huskily protested, from a dry throat. "Please, master! You promised to look after me," she implored him. She pulled herself free of her mother, to assume the slave position she had become used to; while under the implants influence. 

Anne looked at her daughter in confusion, wondering if the implant was still active. If it had been, for all that time - while locked away in the bag - Rebecca was in deep trouble. 

Anne shook her head. She was lucky, having come out of it, in a better state than when being put into it. 

"Did you leave the implant on?" Anne asked, with a defiant look on her face. She was at last regaining her self-assurance, becoming her old self. The harridan professor, everyone feared on campus, would soon be able to reassert her position, ready to put this young man in his place.

"The implant was off. I wanted to free the two of you of its influence. I told you, I would look after you, so just relax," he firmly stated. 

He used the same tone of voice as the computer recording; played to them repeatedly over the last few days. He hoped it would reassure the professor, for she was ready to pounce on him. He needed to leave her in a more agreeable state, if that were possible.

Rebecca thought he was talking to her. "Yes, master, I will relax. I need you to look after me, please stay," she implored him. "I need to hear your voice, telling me what to do," she said, with a whispery.

"The voice in the dark, it was your voice?" Anne asked. She began to relax, feeling calm, less afraid of what might happen. She felt sure this young man, wasn't going to tell anyone, what she had been up to. He wanted to look after her, as he had just told her.

"Yes, it was my voice, I was trying to keep you calm, helping you to recover," he said, keeping his voice low and relaxed. He watched Anne shuffling on her knees, to squat next to her daughter. She too positioned her body, into a comfortable and familiar pose.

"If you don't need me to look after you, I'll leave now," he meaningfully spoke. 

"No!" they said in unison. 

"Rebecca needs you to look after her," Anne spoke out. 

She could see her daughter looking up at him, with an imploring look upon her face. The look of need whipped away the building anger, replacing it with a warm feeling of gratitude. It wasn't just her daughter who needed his reassurance. 

Anne recognised the voice! It tugged at her, pulling her into accepting him, acknowledging that he had helped her. Being placed into the bag had brought her round. The tranquillity made it possible to escape the internal world of nothingness where her thoughts had been trapped.

"Please stay and look after us," Anne said, with a wavering voice.

Bob looked at them both, kneeling before him, wanting him to be there. They had been through a lot, especially Anne. Could he walk away from them now, without recriminations? It was important to find out what was going on inside them. He had to make sure it was safe, that they were safe.

"I'll stay if you want me to," he stated. 

"Yes, master, please, master," Rebecca said, while squirming on her haunches.

"What about you?" he asked Anne.

Rebecca looked at her mother with an expression full of eager expectation. Between the two of them, and the memory of his reassuring words, Anne felt trapped. She hung her head in resignation. 

"Yes. Please stay and look after us both," she reluctantly replied. 

"I'll go down stairs while you dress," Bob announced. He would have to be careful, and not push Anne too far. It was obvious she was only just accepting the situation. If he could spend some time with them, until they fully recovered, it would leave him in the clear.

Being told to get dressed left Anne cringing. Being reminded she was naked, by that young man, was embarrassing. It felt so bad, she wanted to cover her body, yet left her hands balancing upon her knees. She looked down at herself, seeing her thighs were spread, showing off her sex. 

Rebecca looked up at Bob, as he was about to leave the room. "What should I wear, master?" she asked.

"Something suitable, something pleasing," he smiled.

After he left, the room seemed empty. They sat beside each other for a moment, looking rested and calm. Rebecca struggled up, with limbs still aching from lack of use. She helped her mother up off the floor. 

"Quickly, we don't want to keep our master waiting," Rebecca calmly declared.

"Wait a moment," Anne demanded. "You don't have to call him 'master'," she told her daughter. She hesitated, unsure over what else to say. It was imperative that she get her daughter out of this absurd way of thinking. She knew it would be hard, for she too had been under the implants influence, and knew how strong it was. 

"It's that damn implant, you have to shake its influence off, and start thinking properly," she lamely stated. 

"It's not that. It's just, I mean, I want him to be my master. He knows what to do, he'll help me, he'll look after me," Rebecca firmly stated. 

"Do you realise what he did to you, with that implant. What it did to you?" Anne said, trying again to reason with her. 

"Yes! I don't care. I just want to be calm and happy. I want that warm feeling, like, when I was in that thing . . . that bag. It felt so good to be taken care of. You have an implant, and look what happened to you! This is different," Rebecca stubbornly told her mother.

"Come on, get dressed, our master is waiting for us," Rebecca cajoled her mother. 

Her enthusiasm was catching. Anne followed her daughters lead, trying on outfits, one after the other, seeking out a something to impress the master. It seemed, like her, Rebecca was back to normal. This obsession, to please the master, was the only thing that marred an otherwise complete recovery.

Anne had to admit, she felt it too. Knowing it was from being kept in that bag, that it was the depravation that did this to them, didn't help resist it. She just hoped it would quickly wear off. 

Bob sat nervously drumming his fingers, on the arm of the sofa. It was only a thin comfort knowing he had brought the professor round, to become more like her old self. Could she possibly forgive him for what he did to her daughter?

They ran in like excited schoolgirls, giggling and pushing each other. They stood before him, with expectant looks, needing his approval. Anne had followed her daughters lead. The excitement of dressing up, had been infectious, and Anne decided to just go along with it, until the whole silly feeling subsided.

"Well?" Anne asked. She gave a twirl in the short dress, for it to rise around her thighs. She was wearing black stockings, held by suspender belts, gripping tight a pair of pale thighs. The black panties were sheer, though he only got a glimpse of them as she turned. 

"My turn," Rebecca interrupted her mother, obviously in competition with her. Wanting to impress him, she lifted the dress, to show off the underwear less discreetly. 

"Rebecca!" Anne screeched, meaning to scold her daughter, only she laughed, spoiling the effect. 

"Well? What do you think, master?" Rebecca asked. She blatantly sought his approval, while her mother looked embarrassed. 




Human Android Ch. 13



"Perfect! You both look gorgeous," he beamed at them. He almost called them his slaves, out of habit. It was best to take it easy, until he could work out what they wanted from him. It was obviously the effect of the sensory depravation, but how deep was it, and how permanent?

"Would master like to play a naughty game?" Rebecca giggled. She appeared to be shy and mischievous, all rolled into one enticing look. 

"We need to eat first. Surely you must be hungry?" he asked. 

"Master could feed me with his," Rebecca began to say.

"Rebecca! The master is hungry, we must prepare a meal for him," Anne sternly told her daughter. She grabbed a wrist, to drag her away. Pushing her daughter into the kitchen, she looked back over her shoulder. 

Bob watched them, listening to Rebecca's complaints and Anne's whispered, persuading voice. He caught the glance she gave him, seeing it as a strangely wistful look. There was a touch of sadness, mixed with longing to it. 

Anne tried to concentrate on preparing the food, cooking it, and directing her daughter. She had to keep her in the kitchen, as she wanted to sidle back to the master. The memory of being so happy, serving a master, kept surfacing. Her daughter had shocked her, when making that lewd suggestion. Her daughter had wanted to feed, on that young mans cock!

"Come on Rebecca, our master is waiting to be fed!" Anne encouraged. She didn't want to use such a demeaning term as, 'master', but it kept her daughter happy. 

The silly thing was so heated up, it was difficult to concentrate. This too was uncomfortably catching. Anne kept thinking about the times she had uncontrollable and uninhibited sex with him. He was just a student, yet he had taken her! The very thought of being taken, rather than making love with a partner, was raunchy. It suggested an illicit and exciting encounter. 

All three ate large helpings of lasagne. The pasta was just right. Neither overcooked, nor undercooked, with hard to swallow sheets of pasta. Despite Anne's reservations, Rebecca insisted on serving red wine. It was embarrassing to be overruled by Bob, in her home. She had even given in with the words, 'Yes master'. Calling the young man master, made her face redden with embarrassment. A feeling of anxiety befuddled her mind, over being subservient to him.

Anne watched her daughter making up to Bob, feeling both jealous and anxious for her. At last it was time for bed. Anne knew what she had to do. She had to protect her daughter.

"Master, will you, I mean, err, I need you in my bed tonight," Anne mumbled. 

"Your daughter is expecting me," he teased. 

"I can please you so much better, master. Please! I need, err, I need a good fucking master," Anne blurted out, all in one breath. 

She had meant to lure him to her bed, away from her daughters, only words failed her. She wasn't used to flirting or playing such games, so she had ended up being obscene. What was so humiliating about it was, she had meant it. She really did need him in her bed.

Being naked in her bedroom with a student, offering her body to him, should have been a horrendous experience. Instead she felt nervous. It was like a young girl entertaining a boyfriend, for the first time. She knew he had taken her before, though it was all a distant, hazy memory. 

This was different to what happened before. She was back to her old self, more or less, and she knew exactly what she was doing. She was putting herself through this to save Rebecca. It was important to make it good for him, or he might join her daughter later. Anne reasoned it through, missing the simple important point; she should have thrown him out of the house. She couldn't, for she was caught up in the game, as much as her daughter was. 

She lifted the sheet for him, taking in the pleasant sight of his young strong body, as he climbed in next to her. He wrapped his arms around her naked body, holding her tight. It was a surprise that he didn't just force her down and take her. This young athletic guy was strong enough, to do whatever he wanted.

They gently kissed, entwining their tongues, nibbling ears, licking a nose, tickling necks, massaging torsos. Their touches became more urgent, exploring each other more graphically, more intensely. For Anne it was a first time, for she had forgotten all they had done before.

For Bob it was a rediscovery, for Anne was more of a challenge, needing to be wooed. Getting to know her body, over again, was an advantage. He knew her breasts were less sensitive, than her thighs, and under her arms. Her ears too were responsive to being blown and whispered into, with soft gentle words. 

He soon had her responding with uncontrollable passion. Her mind was dominated by a need to orgasm. He worked her body with darting, little movements of his hands, fingertips and tongue. Over all her sensitive little places, he breathed, whispered, and stroked.

Anne squirmed under him, helpless against such a determined assault upon her senses. Both legs parted, pulled up ready, for his maleness to make her complete. Each time he moved up her body, to kiss her lips, she wrapped her arms around him, trying to pull his body into position.

"Please, master, fuck me!" Anne moaned. A dim memory of what she had been before, flashed through her mind, in a series of images. She had been a sexy maid, a sex android, a humble piece of furniture, a gang slut, a whore.

"You can fuck my holes, Master. My mouth, my pussy, my ass, they are all yours, master. Fuck my tight pussy whenever you like, master. Did you ever think you would be fucking Professor Draper's tight cunt, master?" she mewed in shame, unable to stop the disgusting words spilling from her mouth. 

"Tell me how it was to be a gang slut," he taunted her.

"Oh yes! All those cocks in me, I was so degraded. They reduced me to their willing gang slut. I was their corrupted plaything, with my holes existing just for pleasure. It made me cum so hard, when all my holes were filled by young cocks," she gushed, as though talking about a favourite food. 

At last she felt his cock nudge between her lips, pushing at her vagina, rubbing over a swollen clit. With every heave of his sturdy hips, she felt his cock reach into her vagina, so deep, she yelped. The involuntary noise was followed by a recitation. 

"Fuck me hard, master, fuck your sex slave, master" she intoned, with every deep penetration. 

Feeling his whole body stop, and stiffen, she knew he had reached their destination. It pushed her over the edge, knowing her master was making a gift of his wonderful sperm. It was a surprise to feel a spasm, a spurt of cum, splash inside. She lifted her legs to wrap them around his back, squeezing hard, as though draining him of his sperm. 

"Oh! Master, thank you master," she yelped, while in the throes of a deep orgasm. It rocked her so deeply she threw back her head, to yowl like a wolf. The orgasm carried on riding through her body, with little after shocks. Every time he moved, she gripped his cock, trying to keep it, not wanting to lose the feeling of being full.

Eventually her whole body became limp and exhausted. She could hardly move her fingers, after being so drained of energy. He pulled her limp body onto him, balancing her there, and wrapped his arms around her, holding on tight. 

Anne slowly came round, as though she had been in a deep dream. The feeling of needing him was as strong as ever. She knew it was something to do with the black bag she had been in, listening to his voice for all that time. Her thinking was straight now, except for this one thing. She felt as though she needed him to look after her.

He snored quietly. She looked up at him feeling happy and contented. She felt sure her master was satisfied with her performance. The feeling of contentment evaporated, on realising what those thoughts and feelings meant.

She realised that if she didn't escape soon, he would turn her into his personal sex slave. The very thought of it was a torture, knowing the humiliation of it was turning her on, and helping him succeed.

'This is so terribly wrong,' Anne silently cried. 'I can't stop myself, from letting go when excited. I've been corrupted by all that has happened,' she realised. She quietly cried on his shoulder. 

"Someone please help me, or I'll be lost to him," she whispered. "I must get free somehow, or it will start all over again," she murmured, before falling asleep, in his arms.

***

Rebecca had listened to their noisy love making. It was quiet now. She wrapped her arms around her body, imagining her master cuddling her. It was so unfair! She needed him! She had worked so hard all evening, flirting with him, enticing him to her bed, yet he had chosen her mother. It seemed so wrong to be like this, yet she needed it so badly. 

In turmoil she squeezed her thighs together, trying to remember what it had been like to have him there, inside her. She pushed a finger inside, knowing it would be pointless, a poor substitute. She rubbed her clit hard as though punishing it, punishing her body, for not being good enough for him.

She would try harder tomorrow. It was Sunday, so they had all day to play around, before college on Monday. It occurred to her that their master took Anne, to make her submit to him. She had been fighting him, trying to escape his protection.

As Rebecca fell asleep, she determined to work on her mother. She would make her except him, as their master. He would then spend more time with her, looking after her. In her dreams she heard the wonderful, deep voice. Strong and commanding, it reassured her. Her master would look after her, protect her, and guide her.

***

Next morning Rebecca woke early and crept into her mother's room. She stood a moment, seeing the sleeping manly form next to her mother, feeling like a little girl wanting to snuggle into her parent's bed. It was comforting to see the two of them together. 

She had lost her father, and couldn't bare the thought of losing her master. The two very different people, merged into one for a moment. A deep feeling that her master would look after them, brought tears to her eyes. 

Rebecca pulled at her mother, waking her quietly. They tiptoed from the room. Rebecca had a determined look on her face, while Anne looked guilty.

"I need a shower," Anne whispered, as though she could wash away what had happened last night. Bob had made love to her, while she fell into the habit of being his attentive sex slave. While showering, she hoped the slave behaviour was just a habit, and nothing more lasting. It was difficult to maintain the thin excuse, of taking him to her bed, to save her daughter from him.

"Hurry up, we need to fix breakfast," Rebecca told her mother.

In the kitchen Anne tried to bring her thoughts together. It was vital to talk Rebecca around, from treating Bob as her master. It was obviously the sensory depravation affecting her. She too felt its influence, so knew what Rebecca was going through.

"Rebecca, we can't let Bob stay here. You know that, don't you," Anne firmly stated. "This is madness, it has to stop," Anne added, when Rebecca just stared at her.

"You lost my father! We need a man to look after us! He will tell us what to do, he'll look after us!" Rebecca countered.

Anne felt an overpowering resonance, swamping logical thought. It would be comfortable and reassuring to be looked after. She had failed miserably to behave herself in the last few weeks, ending up as a whore. Bob knew that, and so far her daughter hadn't found out.

"No! It's wrong, we can't," Anne said, with a pleading voice, trying to fight the guilt, as well as her daughter's determination.

"You need a man. Look at the state you were in, before he came along," Rebecca needled her. She knew something of what her mother had been up to, but didn't want to know the awful details.

"You need a master, to control you, to see to your needs," she said, pushing the point, while watching her mother hesitate, becoming less assured. A look of guilt and worry spread across her face.

"No! We can't submit to a master, it's wrong!" she complained.

"We will do as he says. He can and will be our master," Rebecca firmly stated.

Anne realised her daughter was mixing up the idea of a master, with a father figure. It had become a complicated and emotional solution, to her sense of loss. It was all her fault. She had put both of them through a tumultuous time. The sensory depravation had pushed Rebecca into this state. She had latched onto this idea, and wasn't going to let go without a fight.

"I can't do it. I can't submit to a young man. He's just a student," Anne feebly explained. It was obvious why it was so difficult to object. The bag had affected her too, and the guilt from what she had done, left her defences weak.

Rebecca grabbed her mother's hair and pulled her over the kitchen table. Pulling up the gown, she held her mother down with the other hand. She slapped her bare bottom. The hard slap was a satisfying sound. 

"Oww, stop it!" Anne complained. She ineffectively struggled. 

Rebecca released her anger; something that had built up over the weeks, since her father left. She slapped her again, stinging her own hand, enjoying the pain.

"You will do as you are told. You will submit to our master," Rebecca growled at her.

"No! Please, stop!" Anne cried out. 

Slapping the bare bottom hard, she continued to tell her mother off. "You've been out of control. You drove him away, you won't do that again! You'll be a good girl and do as you are told," Rebecca spoke, with fierce anger, firing the strokes and her words. 

"Alright! Alright, I'll do as I'm told, I promise," Anne cried out, under duress. 

"Will you do as you are told, by our master?" Rebecca demanded, while continuing to spank her mother.

"Yes." Anne whimpered.

"What are you going to do?" Rebecca asked, with another hard slap.

"I'll be a good slave, and do as our master wants," Anne blubbered.

"If you don't please him, if he wants to leave us because of you, I'll spank you. Do you understand?" Rebecca sternly asked.

"Yes, yes, I'll do as I'm told, honest, I will," Anne sincerely promised. The tears rolled down her face. She was a mess of nerves, shaking from the sudden onslaught of aggression. She felt subdued. It was easier to give in, despite the fierce independence, and determination she usually displayed.

"We'll make breakfast for our master, and see to his needs," Rebecca stated.

"Alright," Anne meekly agreed.

Rebecca took her mother in her arms, holding her tight, while they both sobbed. 

"Everything will be OK now. Our master knows what to do. He knows what we need, and will look after us," Rebecca quietly told her mother. They continued hugging for an intense moment. They had never been a hugging family, yet now they felt closer than ever before.

They were forming a much closer bond, from a shared sense of loss, and a need for guidance through the emotional turmoil. A common wish was for their master to help them through the pain, knowing he would look after them.

Bob slowly became conscious from a deep sleep. The smell of coffee brought him round. A moment of doubt quickly cleared, on seeing the two women, squatting on the floor beside the bed. 

Anne and her daughter sat naked, on their haunches, thrusting out their breasts at him. Last night had been a critical time, when they could have thrown him out in disgust, over what he had done to them. Instead, they were showing themselves off, in a familiar slave pose. 

He smiled at them, and they beamed back at him, in delight.

"Breakfast is ready, master," Rebecca dutifully stated. 

"Master's coffee is there, master," Anne carefully said. "I've laid out a dressing gown, for you, master," Anne added. She still felt embarrassed from using such a demeaning term of address, to a young student. After all that had happened, she felt compelled, to call him master, and do a she was told.

"After breakfast we can bathe you, if you wish, master," Rebecca quietly spoke.

"I'll have a quick shower first. Then we will have breakfast together," he sleepily said.

"Yes, master," they both agreed.

***

During the day they fussed and doted on him, seeming to compete over pleasing him. They would hover around him, waiting for instructions, always pleased to comply with his wishes. He overheard Rebecca rebuke her mother a couple of times, while they were in the kitchen, and guessed what was going on between them. 

Rebecca had been more deeply affected and was keeping her mother in check. Bob smiled at that. What he needed to know was if they could function in college. Monday morning was fast approaching. 

The two of them sat patiently at his feet, after being summoned. "Do you think you are up to going back to college?" he asked. 

"Yes, master," they replied.

"How will you behave? Will you be you're usual selves. I don't want you to be slaves on campus," he said.

"No, I mean, yes, master. We have recovered, from, I mean. We are your slaves, here at home. We need you to look after us. Knowing that is enough," Anne stated. 

Rebecca nodded, with a warm smile. 

Bob looked at them, only half believing it. He would have to keep an eye on them. It would be difficult, as they didn't share classes. Anne of course was an important faculty member, so how could he instruct her in college. He decided to try them out, and hope nothing went wrong.

"Well, we'll see. It will be a trying day tomorrow, so it would be best to get an early night," he said.

"Yes, master," they eagerly nodded.

"Is it your turn tonight, Rebecca, or are we all going to share?" Bob asked.

"You must decide, master," Rebecca quickly said.

"You both look as though you need to be taken care of," he strongly stated.

"Thank you master," they replied in unison.

From the grateful smiles on their faces, he knew it was going to be an interesting night. He didn't think this is what the coach meant, by having an early night.



Human Android Ch. 14



Chapter 14

Awkward situation in college

"There's no need, professor, I know the way," Jean lightly stated.

"I'm only too glad to. It's the least I can do, after what I put you through," Anne replied. "I want to give your tutor and everyone else a clear message, that you have my support," Anne stated. 

Jean was surprised when the professor took hold of her hand, and gently squeezed it. She gave the professor a shy smile and entered the classroom. She thought of the woman as everyone else did, as a grumpy tyrant. Yet they had a pleasant chat, and she was actually escorted to her first class since returning to college.

Jean sat at the back of the class, wondering what her brother had said to the professor. He admitted meeting the professor while visiting the uncle who was a neighbour. Her brother wouldn't go into details, though she figured that was because he was a guy, and couldn't be bothered. She became determined to press him for some juicy gossip, next time she saw him. 

Anne strode down the corridor, head held high, scattering students and lecturers as though she were an imperial senator. Her high heels clacked on the hardwood floors. Students looked away, not wanting to be noticed, in case she had something to say against them. Some of the teaching staff became busy for the same reason. 

In her office Anne called to Judy, her secretary. "What have we got on United Builders?" 

"A slim file, you want it?" Judy asked, over the intercom. 

She knew the boss wouldn't explain why that student had been taken back, after being expelled. She figured the punishment had been enough, and on top of that, the poor girl had a baby to look after. Judy slapped the file on the desk and walked out. 

"Thanks!" Anne murmured.

Judy stopped in mid stride. "You're welcome," Judy replied, and continued to her desk. She wondered if the boss was going soft, with that uncharacteristic thank you. Anne was checking the building contractors, scrutinising them for irregularities. The boss was probably enjoying it so much, she forgot herself. 

Anne needed something to distract her thoughts, so this file was useful in more ways than one. Meeting Jean again brought two bad memories colliding together. The emotions generated were disturbing and difficult to dismiss. 

Jean's brother blackmailed her into bringing Jean back to college. It was unsettling remembering being forced to have sex with the girl's brother. On reflection, and from recent experience, she had been wrong to expel the girl in the first place. The girl had become pregnant outside of a relationship, so under the college rules she had been expelled. 

Anne vigorously rubbed her face with cold water. She was thankful to have a private bathroom attached to her office. The high state of arousal from those bad memories was too distracting to concentrate. Her office seemed to suffocate her. 

"There's a student, wants to see you," Judy said, after buzzing the intercom. 

"Send them in," Anne promptly said.

Judy was surprised. Lowly students always needed an appointment; no-one could just walk in to the professor's office, not even the Dean. She hadn't even asked who it was. "Are you sure?" Judy asked.

"I need a distraction from these boring contracts. How can men be so stupid?" Anne absently commented.

Judy smiled at the student. The boss probably wanted someone to chew and spit out. She watched the innocent fool open the door and walk in to the lions den. She heard the boss say something, but didn't catch it.

Anne looked up with an expression of annoyance. Her face changed immediately on seeing who it was. She arose out of the impressive leather chair, straightened the skirt with one hand, and flicked at her hair with the other.

"Master!" she smiled, and looked down at the carpet in deference to him. 

Bob smiled at her, though she couldn't see his face, or that he was very pleased with himself. "Relax, you know I will look after you," he told her. The phrase had a special meaning after the brainwashing Anne had been through

This was where it all started, in this office. At least it had for him. By the time he first walked in here the professor had been so badly mistreated she had been ground down, into a submissive mess. He was pleased with the way things had progressed. She looked happier, and was very nearly back to her old self.

She looked up at him with a look of consternation upon her face. "I'm not sure," she hesitantly spoke.

"What aren't you sure about? Tell me, and I'll help you," he confidently stated.

"I'm not sure you should be here. Sorry master," Anne quickly added. She stood before him nervously squirming. The expression on her face was full of contradictions. 

"Don't worry, if anyone comes in you are to behave as normal. I needed to see if you were coping. How are you?" he asked. 

Anne knew this was all wrong. It was true, she did feel relaxed in his presence, but that didn't make it right. A student shouldn't be controlling her, making her feel like a slave. She fidgeted on the chair, squashing her sex into the leather. Earlier she had been heated up, and now his presence was stoking the fire. 

She dare not think about the things he made her do. The lewd acts performed while out of her mind were best forgotten. He had brought her out of that dark place; trapped in her own mind in a catatonic state. There was still a yearning to please him that was difficult to shake off. He had brain washed her. It was only slightly different from being controlled by the implant, except she could now complain, though ineffectively. 

"Has anything been troubling you?" he asked. 

The sincerity of his question made her heart skip a beat. She was bound to tell him anyway, but his concern moved her. He really meant it when he said he was going to look after her. It drew her in a little further, accepting him as her master that little bit more.

She recounted the day so far, including her thoughts and arousal. "So, are you still horny?" he asked.

His tone of voice wasn't condescending. He was just asking from concern over her welfare. He wanted to look after her, to ensure she was happy. "Yes, master," she reluctantly admitted. 

It wasn't right discussing how horny she was with a student, though it felt good. In fact it felt wonderful to share her feelings with her master. 

"Come over here, come to me, come to your master," he whispered. 

Hardly realising she had moved, Anne found herself in his arms. The feel of his strong hands caressing her body left her breathing heavily. She lifted her head for him to caress her neck. Fingers were running through her long hair, and stroking her face.  

His palm cupped her chin lifting her lips to his. He explored her mouth, delicately running rings around her tongue. This time there was no pretence, no playing around, he knew what she wanted.

"You're used to being taken often, so you need it now. You do need it now, don't you?" Bob asked. 

Even if he hadn't brainwashed her, that assault would have been hard to defend against. As it was she was his to command. She just hoped he wasn't going to tease her, thinking to keep her hot until they arrived home after college. That would be so hard to accept, and so difficult to cope with.

"Yes, master, your dutiful slave is hot for her master," Anne lightly whispered into his ear. Her makeup had been freshened up, with the hot red lipstick he liked. She pursed her lips, hoping he was going to look after her now. It was wrong, very wrong, but he was right about the desperate stat of arousal. 

"Please, master," she quietly groaned. Anne pressed her sex against him, and rubbed her large breasts across his chest. Her breasts weren't sensitive so it did nothing for her, but she knew the massive bust did it for him. 

She needed him, and was willing to work hard for what she wanted. It was important to work him up properly, or he might just want a blow job. As much as it would be nice to feel his cock anywhere in her body, she really wanted it between her legs. There was a great ache in her lower body. Her vagina felt as though there was something missing from it.

"Please, master, your slave needs your cock," Anne quietly cried. Full of nervous tension she danced on the spot, jiggling her breasts up and down. The knowledge of how badly and how pitifully she was behaving enhanced the tension, increasing the arousal. She knew it was wrong, but couldn't help it.

Over the past weeks she had been a sexy slut and worse, if that were possible. It was possible and she had been there, done it, experiencing it full on. Now she was a sex addict, and he was her master ready to look after her.

"Bend over the desk," he told her. She didn't need telling to lift the back of the dress, or pull the panties aside. 

She looked over her shoulder at him. She watched him unzip the jeans, and pull out a lovely, engorged cock. She gasped in anticipation. She turned her head, and tightly gripped the desk with both hands. She spread her legs and opened her thighs as wide as possible. The professor was spread out over her desk ready for a student to take her.

Her whole body trembled. She felt the loose belt buckle slap against her thighs. Her master's cock slid between the cheeks of her bottom. For a moment she wondered if he was preparing to take her asshole. He could if he so wished, for he was the master of her mind and body.

'Oh! No! Am I so degenerate, to believe that?' she thought. After what she had been through it was only too true. He could do anything he liked to her, and she would thank him for it.

His cock slid over her asshole. She was prepared to relax and help him take her tight hole. She felt his cock slide further down, until it prodded her lips. Her wonderfully thoughtful master sawed his hard cock across her lips. She was already soaking wet. She wanted to tell him to get on with it, but that certainly wouldn't do. She was just a humble sex slave waiting upon her master's whims. 

She wanted to thrust back at him, from being so frustratingly close to being taken. "Please, master," she whispered. 

He knew exactly what she meant, so thrust in fully. She felt his cock burying deep into her body, driven home by a strong pair of hips and muscular legs. This young guy was a talented, athletic footballer, and knew what to do to satisfy her hunger. He thrust in a steady rhythm, occasionally changing the angle to rub her clit. 

Her legs pushed outward with every hard thrust, as though she were a doll being inflated. She gave out little panting, moaning noises. She almost threw away caution by screaming out the pleasure, even if it meant alerting her secretary. 

"Yes! Oh yes, master. You're slave is nearly there," Anne enthusiastically informed him.

"Cum for me, slave," Bob told her. He felt every tiny spurt of sperm as it left the end of his dick. He was growling and breathing noisily. He kept quiet, and so did she. 

"Thank you master, thank you for letting your slave, cum," Anne announced as a deep, wave of sensations splashed outward from her tummy across her chest, invading her torso with tingling sensations, as though she were on fire. 

She lay across her desk, as though waiting for her secretary to find her. As though she wanted to tell everyone she had a powerful lover, who looked after her. Before she could move he pulled tissues from a desk tidy, and whipped between her legs. 

"Oh! Master!" she whimpered. She tried to hold her legs still, but they seemed to cavort on their own, like a dangling puppet. She felt him mop her sopping pussy, and pull the panties over her sex. He pulled her dress into place, and gripped her shoulders to straighten her up. 

Bob leaned on her, breathing heavily into her ear. She moved her head from side to side, avoiding his breathe and kisses, immediately coming back for more. He worked his way down her neck, over the fine hairs, sensitising her all over again. 

The intercom buzzed and he told her to answer it. Anne cleared her throat and took a sip of water, before attempting to answer her secretary. "I can't say, they will have to wait, or phone back," Anne said. 

"The CEO of that contractor is hoping mad. You might want to speak to him, he won't wait," Judy pointed out.

Her master's fingers were tracing the outline of her panties. Over her crotch his fingers pressed at her still open, engorged sex. He found her tight little brown hole, and firmly pushed. She was still bent over talking to her secretary, when feeling a finger enter her. 

She whimpered on a deep inward breath. Trying to disguise it she coughed, and spluttered. 

"I'll put him through then. You had better get that cough seen to," Judy advised. 

Anne suddenly realised she had exclaimed the one word, 'Yes', while whimpering. Her secretary had heard it over the intercom. She was going to put the call through! From this angle, the caller would see Professor Draper spread over her desk, ass up, with panties pushed aside, while a student fingered her asshole. 

She was about to yell at her secretary only she felt fingers delve into her pussy. One finger rubbed hard over her clit. Another inward breath filled her lungs to bursting. She let out the air, trying to bring herself under control, needing to stop the imminent disaster. 

Anyone seeing her being finger fucked in her own office, or any where else, would have a great advantage over her. This contractor she was investigating only needed this to have her exactly where he wanted. A recorded close up of her being played with by a student, would finish her. He could either blackmail her or get rid of her.

There was nothing she could do. She was trapped. It was impossible to move. The screen would become a two way communications channel, automatically recording her downfall. Her fingered ass would be all over campus, probably becoming the favourite screen saver of the week.

"Are you alright? You sound as though you're having a fit!" Judy exclaimed.

"Keep him waiting," Anne managed to splutter. This time she lifted her finger off the button. It had been her grandfather's intercom, an iconic reminder of the past, and a reminder of him. She wondered if her grandfather ever had a secretary over his desk, while talking to a client. Probably!

Bob heard the professor speak to the caller as he left. 

Anne was surprised the important man held on for so long. It proved he was worried. Because she had kept him waiting, he figured she had something on him. Well she would sooner or later. Playing it neutral rattled him.

***

Bob hummed a tuneless, happy sound as he strode across campus. It was lunch time, and he expected to run into Rebecca in the picnic area. 

***

Rebecca was sitting at the edge of the lunch area away from everyone. They were absorbed in their own affairs, not noticing her. She was waiting for Bob and just thinking of him brought a smile to her face. A rustling sound brought her thoughts to the present. 

"Here, boy," Rebecca whispered, trying to be encouraging. She threw a torn piece of sandwich in the animal's direction. Although looked thin and hungry, it was too wary to approach. She threw another piece, a little further this time. Out of the corner of her eye she saw it snatch at the food. 

It had a taste for it now. It moved forward for the first piece. She threw it another piece of bread filled with beef flavoured soya. With encouragement its confidence grew enough to approach with an expectant look in its eye. It licked its snout, savouring the meal. 

"That's it boy, come closer, come on," Rebecca soothingly whispered. Her heart was racing, thumping hard in her chest. Her juices were flowing, as her whole body heated up. She didn't understand what was happening to her. She could feel how aroused she was, but why now? What had she been thinking about just now, before this moth eaten animal turned up?

It came closer, eyeing her and the food. She watched its long tongue lick its nose. She put a hand between her legs, pressing her sex hard. She had a naughty thought, that its long tongue was exploring her pussy. A feeling of wanting to run off, of wanting to be free to roam the woods became insistent. The pack of dogs that roamed the woods was free of society's rules, and free of worries. 

She stood up and took a step away from the picnic table. She was caught in a dream like state, unsure of where she was going, or why. The dog was jogging away back into the trees. She needed to hurry, otherwise she would lose it. She had an unfathomable urge to join its pack, and to run wild with the wind in her hair.

The feeling was understandable. What she didn't get was why she was so worked up. A strong sexual desire was pushing her along, telling her to run into the woods. Once there she just knew she would strip off her clothes and throw them away. She would throw away all vestiges of civilisation to run wild with the pack.

The wild animal feelings inside her were frightening. She hesitated a moment longer. The dog was almost gone. It looked back at her as though thanking her. She thought it was more than that. It was inviting her. She took a first step, ready to run away for a carefree existence. It would be a new life, free of morals and civilisations restrictions.

She would give herself over to the pack. She was ready to be their hot bitch. She would be their bitch in heat, ready for mounting. She imagined all those rampant males lining up to take her.

"You OK? Rebecca?" Bob asked. He had a hold of her shoulder, wondering what she was looking at so intently. 

"Ugh? Yea, not sure, thank you master!" Rebecca gushed. She flushed red from embarrassment. The strange feelings were still there, reluctant to fade away. Like a summers dream they tugged at her, even though their purpose evaded her.

"Come with me," Bob told her. As they passed others she was careful not to say the wrong thing, as he had ordered her not to call him master. She couldn't help feeling it though. Being close to him and following his orders, wiped away the earlier momentary madness.

She was again his slave, ready and eager to please.

"How have you coped this morning? Anything happen that I should know about?" he asked. There was no need to play around with Rebecca as she was thoroughly committed to him, unlike Anne. 

She told him about the strange encounter with the wild dog, and he made a note to try and clear the disturbing reaction from her mind. 

"How do you feel right now?" he asked.

"Aroused master," she grinned at him.

"You will have to wait until this evening," he told her.

"You've been fucking my mother, master," she said, with a petulant look. 

"She too needs to be taken care of. Don't worry I'll look after you too, later!" he forcibly said. "Be a good girl and behave yourself. If you need me I'll be at the practice field. Not for that!" he quickly added.

Bob wondered if he would be able to cope with two nymphomaniacs. Tonight would be a welcome trial of his stamina. 

***

Rebecca arrived home followed by her mother. They busied themselves with the usual household chores. That was different from usual. The maid had been let go, to avoid anyone finding out about their master. It was also unusual for Rebecca to be concerned with household chores. Her master had commanded it, so she got on with them.

Rebecca was stripped off ready for Bob to arrive from a late football game. 

"You should be practising your positions," Rebecca scolded her mother.

"I wanted to talk to you about that," Anne said. "Perhaps we should ask him not to come around so often," she quietly spoke. Remembering what happened in her office that afternoon was embarrassing. This dangerous situation needed to be stopped.

"What do you mean?" Rebecca quizzed her.




Human Android Ch. 14



"Well, it doesn't seem right. We shouldn't rely on him so much. Do we need a master to look after us? I mean, calling him master, isn't that demeaning?" Anne carefully said, not wanting to upset Rebecca.

"No! We need him. We need a master to tell us what to do. He looks after us, mom. We've been through this before, there's nothing to discuss," Rebecca crossly fumed.

"Well, I should decide who comes into my home. I'm your mother and I can look after you," she softly spoke. It was difficult to say it. She too felt the need, though obviously not as much as Rebecca.

"You're not even undressed yet, how can you greet our master like that? Do you want him to abandon us? You've scared off one man, my father, isn't that enough?" she cried.

"It wasn't like that! I'm sorry Rebecca. Please try and understand. It was partly my fault but not entirely," Anne said, trying to console her. 

Rebecca pushed Anne's arms from around her and grabbed a fistful of hair. 

"Ouch! Your hurting me, stop it!" Anne complained. 

Rebecca pushed her mother over the back of the sofa and lifted the skirt up. She slapped her mother's bottom hard.

"Stop it! I'm your mother, you can't do this to me," Anne cried out.

"You will do as you are told! Get undressed for our master, or I'll spank you every night until you learn to behave! Do you understand?" Rebecca shouted at her mother.

"Yes! Alright, alright, I will. Please let me go, please!" Anne blubbered.

Anne scrabbled at the smart business suit, removing it as quickly as she could. Once naked she sat on her haunches with thighs spread, practising a slave position with her daughter. She eased out her knees until her thighs were spread wide. 

Her hands were lying on her thighs palm upward. She straightened her back forcing out her large breasts. The demeaning task of preparing herself for a student was working her up. She could no longer refer to him by his name, for he was her master. The longer she sat there, the more it sank in that she was his slave.

Rebecca stole a sideways glance at her mother's profile. She was jealous of the huge breasts, feeling sure her master treasured them. He therefore held her mother above her and would take her more often. She was determined to ask him for permission to have her own small breasts enlarged. 

The nipple rings seemed to be favoured too. She had often seen him playing with them. He had dressed her in chains, connecting the nipple rings to a collar, and running it down to her labia rings. She must have them to keep him happy! She would have big rings in her nipples and through her lips. That would please her master!

As the time of his arrival approached they became excited. They fidgeted in anticipation. They wondered what delightful game he would play with them tonight. Both pussies ached from a deep, passionate arousal.

When he walked in from the kitchen they cried out in unison. "Master! Your slaves await you're command," they said, with heartfelt gratitude that he was there to look after them.

Rebecca was bouncing with excitement on her knees.

"Calm down pet, your master is here to look after you," he soothingly said, while stroking her hair. She nuzzled his hand against her cheek and kissed his palm.

Anne silently watched the show in an agony of guilt. Would it be right to offer her sex to this young man, to save her daughter? Was it her own needs twisting her thoughts? She hadn't expected to make such a sacrifice, as a part of her motherly duties. 

"You're acting like an excited puppy," he laughed. It reminded him that he would have to work on her to clear that dangerous puppy game from her mind, but that could wait until later.

He instructed Rebecca to fetch something from their play box. 

Being reminded of it a flashback hit Anne hard. While out of her mind she had been so obedient, something disgusting had been done. She had put on a show with her daughter for this young man! 

"Master!" she urgently spoke up. She looked at him, desperately needing to speak.

"What is it, how can your master help you," he smiled.

"Does master want his slave to play with his other slave?" she timorously asked. Not wanting to upset him she put herself in a humble attitude. "Slave would rather play with her master," she quickly added.

"Don't worry, slave, your master won't hurt you or make you do anything you don't want to," he indulgently smiled at her. Looking down at the professor, naked at his feet, he felt a deep sympathy for her. He really did mean what he said.

Anne was encouraged for a moment. It dawned on her that maybe she was so enslaved by him she would comply, however nasty the game was. 

She had a chance to build upon this new freedom he had given her. It would take time to recover, but he really did want to look after her. What was so annoying was that her daughter was pushing her so deeply into obeying him. Every step she took toward being free of the brainwashing, her daughter pushed her back.

Rebecca came bouncing back to them, brandishing a collar and leash for each of them. She quickly fastened the collar around her neck, relishing the idea of playing at being his pet. Anne was slow to comply, so Rebecca shoved the collar on and fastened it. 

Both slaves sat at his feet looking up at him, full of expectation. 

"I'm so hot master. Your pet needs a good fucking master! You promised," Rebecca whined.

Anne was feeling it too. Hearing Rebecca pleading with him was leading her on, heating her up. Guessing what he wanted they began to pant and rub their nipples, trying to be seductive. They licked their lips and fingered their tongues, as though they were in a porn movie.

A slight movement of his hand had them crawling to him. They fumbled with his zip and eagerly pulled down the jeans. As much as Rebecca wanted to be fucked, this was better than nothing. She couldn't wait to have his cock. With her mother she licked and sucked on his cock, glad to have more of it than Anne.

Anne was hurting inside. It was so humiliating to be licking this young guy's balls, while her daughter sucked on his cock. 

"You are such a good cock sucker," Bob growled. His voice became husky from being so worked up. His cock was throbbing. He pushed them away with difficulty as they wanted him so badly. 

"Wait! Calm down, I need to eat first. Then I'll fuck you," he had to promise.

It was a terrible truth to know how well she had been trained to suck cock. Even worse was seeing up close how willingly her daughter worked him. 

Rebecca pulled her up off her knees urgently needing to fix dinner. Rebecca was vibrating with sexual tension. It was obvious she couldn't stop her, she would have to let the master fuck her, or she might burst from frustration.

After dinner he made them crawl into the lounged on the end of the leash. He had avoided an orgasm knowing he had to satisfy them both. 

"Lay back on the floor and spread your legs. That's it, right out, I want to see everything. Now play with yourselves. The first one to cum will be fucked," Bob announced.

He didn't need the extra stimulation, nor did they. It gave him a chance to rest after the meal. Rebecca was learning to cook from her mother, too well. He would have to train harder so as not to put on weight. It was noted they craftily gave him extra protein, with the idea he would produce more sperm for their greedy appetites.

Anne didn't have to hold back, for her daughter soon reached a noisy climax first. Rebecca laughed deliriously knowing she had won. 

"My prize master, your slave wants her master's cock, please," she begged light-heartedly.

Bob looked at her seriously considering what he was going to do with the demanding girl. She was too damn hot. Rebecca needed to be calmed down. Not just for this evening, but for her own good. 

He took Rebecca while Anne busied herself in the bedroom. He had the good sense to spare her further embarrassment. He rode her hard until she had an explosive orgasm. 

"Thank you master, thank you for letting me cum," she enthusiastically spoke. 

Once he had recovered Bob made her sit at his feet, while she was calm enough to listen to him. He commanded her not to play the pet game. 

After repeating the instructions in various forms he considered she was at least partially free. The impulse to become a bitch on heat was dangerous and he had promised to look after them. He intended to keep the promise, even if it meant weakening his hold on them.