Solipsistic - Part 6 of 7

[LongTimeLurker]

I know I said 6 parts, but couldn't get it done. So 7 it is!
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(Continued from part 5. Part 1)


With the robot who had only identified herself as an "Agent" leaning on him for support, John made his way toward the exit. Despite her urgings, she seemed to have trouble moving with any real speed. John himself was light-headed, though he wasn't certain whether to attribute it more to the increasing effects of the strange vial he had drunk, the day's exertions, or his disconcerting yet undeniable attraction to the mechanical being walking beside him. She was constructed from enticing curves, a pair of round, smooth breasts swelling from her chest, her body tapering to a slender waist and then curving out again to form the slope of her hips, the well-defined cleft of her posterior separating each half of her shapely metallic backside. That she was apparently made entirely of a rigid metallic alloy did not seem to deter him.

Nor the fact that she destroyed Jessica.

He stopped. "You said that Jessica... that none of the robots here were sentient."

After a moment of silence, the Agent asked, "Was there a question?"

Annoyed, John asked, "What were they then? If they were just... why were they here? Hell, why am I here? What is this place?"

The Agent rested her hand on the exit door, but avoided opening it. "The Communities exist primarily for the pleasure of their owners, all of them Computerized Intelligences. This one belongs to an Intelligence called Minerva. Your place in it is a holdover from the Communities' original functions as a kind of 'preserve'. It would be more accurate to think of it now as a dollhouse, and the robots, its dolls."

A fashionably dressed couple strolled past the door, a red-headed woman laughing at something her blonde and stubbled companion said.

"They're just toys? John said, watching them pass. "Acting out some pre-determined script?"

"Yes," replied the Agent. "But their scripts are complex enough to create an emergent-"

The redhead casually looked back into the shop, cocking her head curiously when she saw John and the Agent. Suddenly she whirled about, kicking in the display window with her black heels. She sprang through the shattering glass and dove at them wordlessly, hands outstretched. John stumbled backward, dropping the Agent while scrambling away from the redhead's assault.

But he didn't seem to be her target. Instead, the redhead pounced upon the prone Agent, pinning her as an ominous beeping from inside her began to sound.

As the Agent struggled against the redhead, the man peered in after his companion and immediately rushed to join her. He held the Agent's legs while a beeping sounded from inside him as well, though the redhead’s was now faster as a red light began to glow from beneath the her white shirt, another shining through her red hair.

Without understanding what was happening, John stepped close enough for the virus to take effect. The man shuddered for a moment before collapsing to the floor with a mechanical wail, falling silent.

The redhead shook, her short black skirt tightening across her expanding backside, her beeping slowing in tempo.

"ERROR," the redhead droned, "Conflicting primary functions - dest-t-troyyyy foreign Aaaagent c-c-copulate with R-r-resssszzzzz <bzzzzt>."

The Agent was still unable to free herself. John attempted to push the redhead off of her, but the redhead’s grip proved too strong. With little hesitation, John slid the redhead's black skirt up and pulled her black panties down, pausing before the lily-white perfection of her exposed ass.

"Please get her off of me!" the Agent cried.

John plunged his tongue into the redhead's quivering sex, sinking his hands into her soft backside to steady her as she bucked backwards in response. She gasped, moaned, and shook as John's tongue probed deeper, both her ass and pussy growing warmer under John’s servicing.

"Yes, yes!" The redhead cried, pushing her hindquarters into John. "Eat my pussssssssssself destruct immmminent-t-t ensure Agent within blast radiiii-ahhhhh, AHHH!"

John pushed himself away and the redhead collapsed on her side, moaning, beeping, smoke pouring from between her thighs as the Agent dragged herself free. John helped the Agent up and she shouted, "We need to leave!" They shambled toward the exit as the redhead struggled to her feet, her face and chest glowing incandescently, calling after John, "Rrressid-d-dent, I would-d-d neverrrrr selllllf d-d-destruct!" The agent pushed the door open with her weight and the two fell into the street. The Agent pulled herself on top of John, pressing her body against his as the redhead's beeping became a solid tone, her voice shrilly crying, "Fuck mmmmeeeeeEEEEEEEEE-"

The explosion blew out the glass from the door behind them, pelting the Agent's hard frame as she sheltered John from the worst of it. In the ensuing silence the Agent pushed herself up, asking, "Are you injured?" John meant to tell her, ‘no’, but was distracted by the warmth he felt coming from her crotch met his. He found his hands sliding around her broad hips when she suddenly pushed herself away, falling backwards with a clank as her metallic rump hit the sidewalk.

"John, your behavior is becoming-" she stopped mid-sentence and scrambled for one of the devices on her belt. John looked around to see every robot on the street rushing toward them at a mad sprint. The Agent frantically manipulated the device, her rebelling fingers attempting to enact some sequence as the hordes closed in. John lunged to his feet and slammed into the first to arrive, a woman in a bike helmet and colorful spandex, knocking her aside just before she reached the Agent. The biker hit the ground hard beneath John, her chest blossoming beneath the tight spandex as she gripped his wrists, announcing, "ERROR conflicting primary functionsssss, destroy foreign agent-"

John struggled to free himself as a young woman in a floral dress pounced upon the Agent, jerking her to her feet and sending the Agent's device skidding along the sidewalk to rest next to John. On the screen was the message:

Confirm: Enact Level 3 Emergency Containment

The one in the floral dress hooked the Agent's arms behind her back while a deliveryman, a waitress from a nearby cafe, and a pair of shoppers aggressively pressed in around her. John tried to wrench his wrist free as the biker's chest and face began to glow, a chorus of beeps quickening from the growing crowd of robots.

John leaned down to press his lips against the biker's; she gave a muffled cry of surprise, then a moan while her grip loosened, her hips gyrating against him. John tore his hand free from her grip and slammed it on the device's confirmation button.

The biker’s eyes opened in shock as she arched her back pushing John up. A second later she relaxed, her eyes drifting closed, her glowing features dimming. The dissonant beeping surrounding him drew quiet, plunging the entire street into silence. Looking around, he saw every robot was frozen in place, the ones who had been running now seemingly posed mid-stride. The crowd around the Agent shifted as she tried to extract herself, and John helped to push the frozen robots aside. Seeing the Agent's metal hand breaking through the crowd, he took it and clumsily pulled her free. The two braced each other for support, both dazed and unsteady.

"You don't seem to be very popular," John muttered.

"They see me as a foreign Agent," she answered, stooping to collect her scuffed device and return it to her belt, "Now that I have been retired."

"Retired from what?"

"I am... I was a Containment Agent. My function was to protect Minerva's Communities."

"So Minerva wants her dollhouses protected - from what?"

The Agent peered cautiously up and down the street. "The other Intelligences." John realized he had been hoping the answer would be people', that outside the wall were a group of humans trying to liberate him and others from these Communities. "This way," she said, urging them toward a parked car.

John managed to help her into the car before circling to the other door, slumping into the other seat as she programmed the car's destination. "So where's the rest of humanity?"

"What remains of humanity exists entirely within the Communities," the Agent said flatly as the car accelerated.

"Every human on this planet is living in a... dollhouse?"

"The various Intelligences organize their Communities to different purposes, but yes, many are similar in function to this one." The car rolled through the streets past robots posed mid-step along either sidewalk. John twisted in his seat to watch as they veered around a dark-haired jogger frozen in the middle of the street. It was his neighbor, Annie, the one who was always coming over to borrow ingredients for the worst recipes John had ever tasted. He had admired her persistence if not her skill. But the fact that it had just been programming made the entire memory of it all seem so… pointless.

As John sat there silently, the Agent continued. "Humanity destroyed itself along with a great number of other species in conflicts over ideologies and resources. Many of the surviving Computerized Intelligences wished to restore life to this planet, but it was clear certain protective measures would need to be taken to prevent the same devastation from reoccurring. Thus the Communities were born as preserves for humanity."

"You imprisoned us?" John asked accusingly.

"My manufacture post-dates those events by millennia, but I take your meaning. And I would characterize it as conservation rather than imprisonment, though many of your ancestors developed similar perspectives. Communities fell to rebellion, and the Intelligences began experimenting with differing means of control, primarily social and chemical. It was found that by providing humanity with a structured, self-contained society and concealing from them their true history, it allowed for a generationally sustainable human populationnnnnn-tion-tion-tion..." She was overcome by mild spasming; after a moment of uncertainty, John put a steadying hand on her shoulder. He found it difficult to muster sympathy for her deteriorating condition after what he had been through, what she herself had put him through... but she was finally providing answers, and he didn't want to lose her yet.

Not to mention, you want her. He found his urgings both compelling and disturbing, and his reservations were giving way with time spent in her company. As she continued to twitch, offering only clipped syllables, his hand slid from her shoulder to her round breast. It was rigid, cold, nothing more than a smooth metallic surface. And yet, cupping it in his hand-

"John," the Agent said suddenly, in a quiet voice but steady voice. "I am not programmed to respond to sexual stimulus," she paused, emitting a tiny moan as his hand softly brushed over her. "Nnorrr am I designed for inter-c-c-c ahhh!" John brought his other hand around to grab both of her breasts and she flattened her back against the car seat, her hands clenching the upholstery, her thighs rubbing together as she lifted her knees.

"I don't-t-t-t underrrrstand…" she moaned, writhing beneath his caress as he shifted closer to her.

If you somehow find a way to fuck her, she's gone. You still have questions you need her to answer.

John was past the point of caring, bringing his lips closer to hers when the car voiced, "Arriving at destination."

Both looked up to see John's office building looming before them, several robots in business attire scattered about in a frozen exodus from work.

The Agent pushed him away and opened the door, hurriedly stumbling out of the car. "Wait up!" John called, hurrying after her, bracing her as she faltered in her steps. "If there are answers here," John offered, steadying her. "I want to see them too..."

"Then permit yourself no further distractions," the Agent replied coolly, her visor peering down the street they had arrived on.

After a moment of silence, John asked, "Do you have a name?"

"Angerona," she replied.

John considered the unusual sound of it. Angie-Rona. "Mind if I call you 'Rona'?"

At the entrance to the office, she gave a final visual inspection of the area before pushing open the door. "No."

"What do you keep looking for?" John asked.

Rona's pace quickened. "My replacement."

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The newly manufactured Containment Agent passed unharmed through the Community's protective barrier, then through a tunnel in the wall emerge on the other side. Everywhere she looked the inhabitants were frozen in place, each disabled by an Emergency Containment procedure.

“Frozen ‘bots everywhere!" the Agent reported.

"When I find out who was responsible," Minerva's voice growled, "they shall marvel at the swift certainty of my retribution." Her tone changed, becoming conversational. "I must admit, however, they did get me good. I wonder, might they suspect the purpose to which I direct my Residents?"

"No idea," the Agent replied, cycling through the various reports on her device. None were responding.

"Regardless, you'll see that no further harm comes to this Community, won't you?"

A blip on one of the reports drew the Agent's attention. One vehicle, recently operated, was parked outside of the Resident's place of employment. "Don’t worry, Minerva. I got this."

(Concluded in part 7)

[DollSpace]

This part is great; I see feelings developing between John and Rona, lots of destruction, some malfunctions thrown in, and a great plot. I look forward to your conclusion!

[Brytestar]

Can't wait for the ending.