Solipsistic - Part 1 of 7

[LongTimeLurker]

This one's in the vein of "OMG my sexy boss is a robot!"

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John sat in his car, staring at the massive gate in front of him and wondering under what impossible circumstance it might open. For his entire life in the Community it had remained shut, just as much a barrier to the world beyond as the concrete wall itself. And he found himself wondering once again why nobody in the Community seemed to want to see what was on the other side, just once, even it was only desert.

He looked back to his hand at the tiny glass bottle half-full of silvery liquid in his hand, the hand-written note still attached by a string. On it, the simple instruction of ‘Drink me.’ When he had discovered it that morning on his desk, he had immediately panicked. Who had put it there? Amy, his manager? One of the coworkers he almost never saw?

He had stepped into Amy's office to find her at her desk, staring at the terminal screen. Though he had worked under her for ten years, he knew nothing about her beyond her first name and the fact she was gorgeous. Her auburn hair always pulled into an ornate bun, her large grey-green eyes set amidst a scattering of freckles, an errant lock of loose hair that made her beauty natural and effortless. But his affection, his lust, his interest in her had faded over the years. She never spoke about herself or asked about what John did outside the office, never reacted to his timid attempts at flirting, had no pictures of friends or pets in her spartan office — she just sat there, day in, day out, staring at her screen, more of a prop than a person.

“Yes, John?” she asked, not looking up.

“Hi, Amy — did you… this morning, on my desk, there was…” his voice trailed off.

“Yes?”

He had doubted then it had been her after all, wondering why he would even consider it might be. And if hadn’t been her, he wasn’t sure exactly how she would respond to the news of the mysterious bottle. “I… think I’m coming down with something, I might take the day off if that’s alright.”

“Of course, John — get some rest,” she said, her eyes fixed forward. He had always wondered what she did in her office, sitting at her terminal for eight hours a day, taking a lunch break of exactly thirty minutes. (He had even timed her: from the moment her ass left her chair to when she was back at her desk, thirty minutes on the dot, every time.)

Once he had asked what she did for the Company, and she simply said that she was his manager. He didn’t see how ‘managing’ him could take any time, though. For the entire ten years of employment at the Company, he sat quietly at his desk, checking reams of data for ‘anomalies’. Amy wouldn’t even tell him what the data represented.

“Isn’t this a job for a computer?” he had asked Amy when she first explained what he would be doing for the Company.

“No,” her voice definitive. “This is a job that can only be done by a human being.”

And so he stared at printouts of data. He soon noticed patterns, and came to realize patterns were all that it consisted of. Bland, repetitive, mind-numbing, soul-crushing patterns that might on some rare occasion change unpredictably, but only to fall back into some other routine.

Once, two years ago, he had seen something that struck him as ‘unusual’, though he couldn’t explain why. When he brought it to Amy’s attention, she had told him the Company would, “investigate his findings.”

The day after, Amy informed him that the Company was very pleased and wanted to know if there was anything they could provide for as a way to thank him. “Anything at all,” she had said, but his mind was blank. They moved him to a larger place, gave him a new car, a wardrobe of tailored suits. He later decided he just wanted to know what it was he had seen in the data, why it had been important.

“You’ve helped keep the Community safe,” is all that Amy would tell him.

After he left the office he had come straight here, to the Community’s gate where he powered down his car and sat, debating whether or not to follow the note’s plain instruction. He desperately wanted to know who had put it on his desk, who had broken the routine of his life that had remained unchanged for a decade. He pulled loose the tiny cork, deciding this was the best way to find out.

The taste was terrible, bitter, and he had to force himself to swallow it. It lingered horribly on his tongue, and he nearly retched while rooting in his car for something to wash the flavor away.

He heard the whine of a ground-effect engine behind him, and turned to see an enforcement officer in her crisp uniform of drab grey stepping off her cycle. He knew he was within his right to be here, but his stomach twisted when he tried to come up with some explanation to her inevitable question of why he was here; he couldn’t even explain it to himself.

A black glove rapped on his window, and he lowered it, trying to manage a casual smile. She crouched to eye level, her face obscured by the cap of her uniform and the dark sunglasses she wore despite the cloudy day. After peering around the inside of his car, she looked at him and asked, just as he had predicted, “Is there a reason you’re here?”

“No, I… I was actually just leaving.”

She glanced searchingly around his car once again before looking at him again. He suddenly noticed this enforcer was remarkably well endowed, and wondered how the well-defined mounds of her breasts beneath her uniform had escaped his attention before.

“You don’t need to go just yet, sir. In fact, if you wouldn’t mind some company…”

He didn’t know why this enforcer was offering to spend time with him, but the prospect terrified him. “If I’m free to go, I really just need to get home.”

“Sure - mind if I tag along?”

“Sorry… feeling sick… just need to rest,” he punched home as his destination and his car pulled away. He turned to see the enforcer watching him, unmoving, until his car turned a corner on its way home. Deciding he first needed something to get rid of the terrible taste that remained in his mouth, he updated his destination to the café near his office.

The café was abandoned save for the barista, a diminutive, dark haired girl named Brenda who seemed short on sleep no matter what time he caught her there. “Hi, John,” she called in her tired voice as he made his way to the counter. “You’re back early.”

“Left work early, not feeling well.”

“Sorry to hear that,” she said with no trace of actual sympathy. “You want the usual?”

“I, uhh… I’m not sure,” he muttered, confused that he had to reference the café’s simple menu.

Brenda gave him a surprisingly intense look and eventually said, “You know, if you’re looking for something that’s not on the menu, I might be able to help you out…”He had never thought of Brenda as particularly busty, but as she leaned forward on the counter she provided him with a view down her shirt to a pair of surprisingly plump breasts.

What was with him? It had to be that drink… some kind of aphrodisiac that would only allow his mind to focus on one thing. He realized he had been staring and quickly looked up at Brenda’s brown eyes, his face burning with embarrassment. She was gracious enough to smile as if nothing had happened.

“Sorry, I really should just get home,” he said, and her face turned to disappointment.

“Wait, John-”

“Sorry!” he apologized again, backing out of the door and jumping into his car. He found himself hitting the destination of his office and the car sped away as Brenda rushed out of the café after him. God, what an ass he had made of himself…

He made the decision he would confront Amy with the bottle. It was probably someone fucking with him, someone who was trying to provoke a scene between him and his manager. But if it had been Amy herself who had placed it on his desk… his heart hammered at the prospect.

John burst into her office, not trusting himself to say anything, simply planting the vial on her desk. Her head turned from the terminal screen and she picked it up in her perfectly manicured hand. “What’s this?” she asked, sniffing it daintily.

It hadn’t been her after all. His heart sank. “I found it on my desk this morning.”

She sniffed it once more, then her eyes went wide. “Who gave this to you?” she asked, pressing the button for her intercom

“I don’t know… Do you know what it is?”

“Security?” she asked, and John began to fidget nervously. What was going on?

“This is security,” answered the intercom.

After a pause, Amy rose from her chair and said in a strangely nonchalant voice, “Never mind.” She clicked off the intercom before they could respond and began walking to her door.

“Amy?” John asked as she silently walked past, and then stared in rapt fascination. Amy’s suits had always been expertly tailored, but he saw now that her business slacks were far too tight across her shapely backside, the outline of her v-shaped panties emblazoned through the fabric. He was hypnotized as she walked with an uncharacteristic sway to her hips. Arriving at the door to her office, she closed it and turned back to face him. He saw her blouse was now straining against her bust, at least full cup larger than it had been before. Was this some sort of hallucination brought on by whatever was in that vial?

Amy stepped toward him, placing her arms over his shoulders, her hands clasping behind his neck. “John, when you detected that anomaly two years past, I told you that you could have anything as a reward; why did you not ask for me?”

“That… was… an option?” John managed.

“It’s always been an option,” she sighed, her eyes closing as she leaned in to kiss him. Her lips touched his softly at first, and then she pressed her mouth against him hungrily, moaning, grinding against him with animal-like abandon. The awful aftertaste of the drink still remained, but she did not seem to mind, her tongue greedily exploring his mouth. His hands were fumbling with his buttons when she simply ripped his shirt open, sending buttons clattering about the office floor. She tugged and tore at his pants until she managed to free the most painful erection of his life, and took it in her hand.

He pushed her back for a moment, asking, “Can we slow this down — just a bit?”

Her reluctance was plain, but she relented, releasing his cock and unbuttoning her blouse.

John undid her slacks and slid them down with some difficulty over round hips and backside. He took them down to her ankles where she stiffly stepped out of them along with her shoes. As he stood, his hands retraced the curves of her legs, around her hips and came to rest on the soft swell of her ass - it was undoubtedly rounder today than it had been in the past ten years.

“Any idea what’s going on here?” he asked, giving her a squeeze.

She groaned, saying, “A fifteen percent increase in volume to achieve targeted sexual desirability — if I have miscalculated-”

“Why are you talking like that?” he asked.

“Like what?” she moaned, as he massaged her ass, sweet beading across her skin.

“Like… a robot?”

She froze and straightened, her head cocked slightly askew, as she stared blankly. “Potential failure in critical task: conceal non-human nature. Suggested response: denial.” She blinked and looked at him, smiling. “John — do I look like a robot?”

When John didn’t respond, she pulled off her blouse, unfastening her undersized bra — her body was now covered in a layer of perspiration and she was panting heavily.

“Are you OK?” John asked, his hands growing wet as warm sweat raced down her body.

“John, I’m human — c-c-can’t you see that?” she insisted, her hands faltering as she struggled to remove her panties.

“I think you’d better lie down.” Smoke was now rising from her mouth in thin white tendrils.

“G-g-good advice,” she stuttered and pushed him on to her desk, trying once more to remove her thoroughly soaked panties while haltingly stepping toward him. She somehow trapped her wrist beneath the waistband as she awkwardly straddled him, smoke now rising from her nipples, her trembling breasts expanding still.

John’s life within the community always seemed to provide him with more questions than answers, and for the first time he felt he was on the verge of reversing that trend. He pulled her hand free from her panties and pushed the fabric aside to expose her smoking, dripping, flushed sex. She clumsily drove her pussy against his stomach, groaning urgently. He gripped her waist and guided her lower to his cock. In her aimless thrusting she suddenly found his straining manhood, and she crumpled with a high-pitched cry that caught in her throat, fluid rushing from her spasming sex in waves, her full breasts glistening wetly, her head twitching as her smoking mouth gaped, her eyelids fluttering uncontrollably.

“I ammm h-h-human!” she squeaked, “But yyyoou <bzzzzt> are m-m-making mmmeee-“ he squeezed her ass and gave her a final thrust, “MALFUNNNNNNNNN-“ she said in a digitized voice before it cut out with an electrical bang, her face freezing in its moment of climax as her convulsing legs brought her up and down in greater and greater thrusts until she toppled backward, crashing into the ground. John sat up and saw her body and face split along seams, machinery and circuitry beneath.

“Failure in critical task: conceal non-human nature,” he heard a voice say, and looked up to see Brenda from the café standing in the doorway covered in sweat, her face expressionless as she stared at the broken robot at John’s feet. “Suggested response: containment.”

“Holy shit!” Brenda exclaimed, stumbling into the room. “Amy was a robot?!”

“Looks like - think anyone else might be?” he asked as she hesitantly approached the still-smoking body. Brenda gave a convincing performance, apparently oblivious to the fact that her cover was already blown.

“I really doubt that,” she said, looking up at him. “C’mon, we gotta… we gotta get you…” she took his hand, and turned to leave the room, weakly trying to pull him from the desk.

“What’s the rush?” he asked and she stopped.

“Oh man,” she muttered, pulling her apron loose to mop the sweat from her brow. She tossed the apron aside and looked over her shoulder, placing her hands lightly on her wide hips, saying in a quiet voice, “You know, you’re free to order anything you want…”

He grabbed her by her slender waist and pulled her up to the desk, setting her round ass down in front of him, her jeans too tight from the apparent expansion of her posterior. She pulled off her shirt and leaned back into him, her plump breasts straining against the black lace of her now insufficient bra. He kissed her neck as she gave languid sighs, her body swaying as he massaged her chest.

She unbutton her jeans, unzipping them, and was about to slip off the table to pull them down when he held her in place, saying, “Brenda, there’s some things I need to know.”

“Now?” Brenda complained. He unclasped her bra and she pulled it off, sighing as his fingers gently brushed her stiff nipples. “Ohhhh… O-OK, just… ask…”

“How many of the people in the Community are robots?”

“Error,” she muttered, her movements slightly erratic. “J-J-John, can’t we just…”

“Am I the only human?” his hand rubbing her thigh through her jeans.

“Mmm… Mmmm-hmmm,” she confirmed, clasping his hand in the press of her thighs.

He withdrew it and asked, “Why? What do you… what does the Community need me for?”

“T-t-to analyze the d-d-dataaahhhh,” she lunged off the desk and after a great deal of wiggling, forced her tight jeans down, the black thong beneath disappearing in the cleft of her swollen backside. He picked her up by the waist again, her jeans caught on her ankles, setting her down with her warm ass pressed against his cock.

“J-J-John, please,” she begged trying press herself further against his groin.

“Brenda, what is the data?”

“Error!” she squeaked, sweat running down her naked back in glistening lines. She took his hand and pressed it against the front of her panties, breathily emitting another cry of, “Errrrrrrorrrrr!”

“What is the data?” he repeated, pulling her up and setting her on her knees. He pulled down her black thong, her exposed sex quivering, Brenda gasping. He gripped her full hips and poised himself behind her.

“ERROR I… I d-d-don’t know, my onlyyyy function was to sssserve you in the c-c-café!” she cried. “P-p-please, John! Ifff you don’t t-t-take me sssoon, I’ll… I’ll…”

He plunged into her and she responded wildly, her ass pounding against his hips as fluid rushed from her pussy, her tits swaying as he bent to grasp one, his other hand gripping her ass while he kept pumping her, her bucking in response. He came suddenly and forcefully with a startled cry matched by her own, his own erupting cock mirrored by her sex bursting with fluid. She fell forward, him collapsing on top of her, her round ass cushioning him as they lay there, panting.

“You’re not gonna fall apart on me like Amy?” John whispered.

“W-w-what happened to her?” Brenda asked, and he felt her pussy growing warmer through his still inserted member.

“She just… umm…” he looked down to see smoke seeping out from between their hips.

“C-c-cann I get you anything else?” she asked, pushing herself back up on her knees. He was still fully erect, and felt he could easily go another round. He also felt he would be far more willing, were it not for the smoke pouring out of her pussy.

“Brenda, I think you might want to take a look…”

“I work in the café!” she cheerfully announced, and began pumping again, groaning as her cheeks slapped against his hips. “I sssserrve yyooou in t-t-he c-c-c, I sserrrve you…” she repeated, the skin on her back parting around her waist, her shoulders, as smoke rushed out, machinery and cabling beneath shuddering with each impact, her movements producing a mechanical whirring.

“Ohhhh, you’re making me mmmmalfunction!” she cried, the machinery sounding less stable as she rammed herself against his cock, grabbing his hands and pressing them to her plump breasts, squeezing his hand and her breast as she cried, “M-m-maaake me malllll-“ another electrical pop cut her off and she froze, the sound of machinery a high pitched whine from inside of her. Suddenly it gave way to a grinding noise and she pitched forward, falling head-first on to Amy’s inert body.

John tried to collect his wits, figure out what he was going to do. There was literally no one in the Community he could trust if what Brenda said was true… and while Amy and Brenda seemed perfectly happy to fuck until they fell apart, he doubted he would be met with that response universally. He looked at the door. That enforcer from earlier, would she be looking for him too? He had to get out of here, come up with some kind of plan. And he would need to find some answers.

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The Containment Agent could hear the orgasming gynoid from outside John’s apartment, her cries audible well before she bypassed the lock on his door and let herself in. She stepped through the spacious but largely empty apartment to the bedroom to find an enforcer out of uniform, her fingers buried in her pussy as she moaned in ecstasy on John’s bed, her body drenched in sweat.

The enforcer looked up, seemingly surprised at the Containment Agent’s obviously non-human appearance. But such disguises were no longer necessary by the time an Agent was summoned to a Community. “Y-y-you’re not John,” she muttered as the Containment Agent produced a device from her belt, operating a few buttons before aiming it at the enforcer. While she waited, she tapped her communicator and spoke, “Running diagnostic on malfunctioning gynoid, enforcer-role. It looks like a repeat of Communities twelve and twenty-nine.”

“Oh, I’d rather not scrap this one,” said a sweet, kind, feminine voice on the other end. “This Community’s Resident has already yielded positive results for us. We may be able to recover… and he may even provide us with information on the identity of our saboteur.”

The diagnostic completed. “This appears to be a more aggressive strain than before,” the Agent reported. “But if you think we should proceed with capture-“

“I do,” replied the kind voice. “But please take every precaution. Better to lose the Resident than you, Agent.”

“No need for concern, Minerva. I am always cautious.” The Agent adjusted another dial on her device, aiming it at the enforcer gynoid and holding a button a few seconds. She then clipped the device back on to her belt and turned to leave.

“What… what is… happen…” the enforcer muttered to herself, slowly withdrawing her drenched fingers from her pussy. Her face turned in confusion as she muttered, “I feel-“ just before her head exploded in a burst of sparks and circuitry.

The Agent closed the door behind her, doubting John would return here, but setting a small needle-trap just in case. She tested her tracker again, frowning when it revealed nothing beyond the gynoids of the Community, still following their set routines. She doubted the gas they had released within the Community would yield any results either.

But she reasoned it was only a matter of time before the effects of the virus would make themselves known once more, and when they did — she would have him.

(Continued in part 2)

[DollSpace]

Very curious! But also quite enjoyable. It also leaves a lot of questions to be asked, and hopefully answered in a future story?

[DukeNukem 2417]

Another great one, LTL.

[LongTimeLurker]

Thanks you guys!

It also leaves a lot of questions to be asked, and hopefully answered in a future story?

At some point, yeah - just not sure which one of these stories I want to get back to first. It's not an immediate concern, since I'm getting busy with school and won't have time to write for a while.

(The ending's also a little closer to Prototype's than I meant it to be... oops!)

[DukeNukem 2417]

(The ending's also a little closer to Prototype's than I meant it to be... oops!)

Not a problem---I enjoy connecting the dots with stories like this and Prototype.

[Gorgo]

Very unusual and thought-provoking . . . and clearly needing to be extended further.

[fection]

This (and Prototype) is some of the best writing I've seen in a long while. Really minimal, convincing descriptions. Keep up the great work!