Mike and Mary, Part 2

[daphne]

(I've had this sitting around for a while, just getting around to posting it now. A continuation of the role play log.)

By the time Mike was cognizant enough to evaluate the situation and vocalize his confusion, Mary was already off of the bed and fully dressed again. She'd been very careful not to get any of his ejaculate onto herself, aiming his angle away from her so that his discharge ended up either on his own belly or the sheets next to him. She fiddled with her jacket while looking at herself in the bedroom mirror, primping and preening.

Mike was a little disappointed when he saw that Mary had already gotten dressed and that he had quite a mess on himself. He frowned a little as he tried to think of a way to minimize the damage. At least when he masturbated he managed to keep it contained. He eventually shuffled over to the nightstand and found his normal box of tissues. He wiped himself and the sheets off but made a note that he'd want to change them.

He was also a little surprised that she didn't want any more. She seemed fairly worked up, but he realized that was probably more for his benefit. An added layer of simulation for the user's immersion. He slid off the bed and slowly put his clothes back on as he collected them from around the room. "Can you give me a hand stripping the bed? We sort of made a mess."

"No, you sort of made a mess," Mary countered, curtly. Her attitude seemed to have reverted to its usual acerbicism, in deference to her sensitive and eager lovemaking from just a little while previous. Nevertheless, she dutifully returned to the bed, collecting up the top sheet and working the corners of the cover sheet off with Mike.

Mike shrugged as he helped Mary with the sheets. She did have a point that all the fluids on the bed did belong to him, and while they were both there, the experience was somewhat one sided. He wondered if this would be how all their sexual encounters would turn out. After pulling the sheets out of his side of the bed, he slipped into the bathroom and retrieved a set of clean linens from the closet. He waited for the old sheets to move, then threw the new sheets over the exposed mattress. "Once we get these on we can make a run downstairs to the washer."

As Mike worked he felt his stomach gurgle and realized it was past his normal dinner time. "Do you eat at all? I mean, I know you don't have to eat, but are you capable of doing it? I've read somewhere that some androids have a sense of taste and enjoy food..."

"I can eat," said Mary, balling up the sheets and stuffing them into the hamper, which filled it to the top, "but I don't enjoy it in the slightest. That's just another of those convenient illusions you fleshies like to foist on us machines to make yourselves feel better. Also, it tends to fill up my discharge cache quite rapidly, which is a real pain." She huffed visibly, then added, curiously, "I could stand a cup of coffee, though."

"Coffee it is," Mike said as he pursed his lips and nodded. He picked up the full hamper and started walking downstairs. Mary followed him downstairs, arms crossed. She looked slightly bemused at her owner carrying the hamper himself, rather than ordering her to do it for him. Sitting the hamper down near the door to the basement, Mike rummaged through the kitchen cabinets until he found a small sealed bag of coffee grounds and a French press.

"I didn't mean to imply that I expected you to eat," he explained as he poured in the grounds, and then filled the glass vessel with boiling water from the inductive heating spout of his kitchen sink. "I just didn't want to leave you out if it was something you enjoyed." He placed the press down to soak. "What about cooking? Is that something that you can do? Admittedly I'm more of a reheat kind of guy myself."

"I've been called upon to grace the culinary arts with my presence before, yes," said Mary. As Mike fiddled with the coffee, she leaned against the kitchen counter, looking at his face. "Look. I know I'm a mess. I'm sorry for that. If it's any consolation, it's not that I dislike you that makes me such a mercurial drama queen."

"Actually, that does make me feel a little better," Mike chuckled as he checked on the brewing coffee. "I know your personality is a little... unique, due to the mods of your previous owners, but it's what you are." He paused to retrieve a mug from the cabinet; it was an older ceramic cup with the iconic I <3 NY logo on the side. "If it's something that bothers you, we could always try to fix it. I'm fairly adapt with computers; Hell, it's what I do almost all day every day." He put the lid on the press and slowly pushed the grounds to the bottom before pouring the dark, steaming liquid into the mug. "But I'll leave that up to you. Now then, how do you take it? I'm not sure if I have any cream, but I do have milk."

"Black, please," she said. "I don't like cream or sugar. Or even coffee, actually. It's the alkaloids that help. My system processes them and uses the chemicals to regenerate my battery cells, which saves wear and tear on recharges." Mary reached for the cup and brought it to her face, closing her eyes and smelling the aroma of the liquid as if she enjoyed it, even though she'd just said she wouldn't. She opened her eyes again and nodded simply. "And no offense to your expertise with computers, but if I could be fixed someone would have done it years ago, and in any case it would cost you so much you may as well have bought a new model to begin with." She looked distant saying the last part of the sentence, a bitter and regretful scorn on her face.

"I just thought I would offer," Mike shrugged as he looked through the half empty fridge. He found a box of Chinese take-out and pulled it out. Opening the box to smell the contents, he then nodded to himself and poured the homogenous mass of meat, rice and vegetables into a ceramic bowl, tossing it in the microwave. "If you want to take a look around the kitchen, go ahead. I don't do much cooking, so if you want to make a list of ingredients or tools you need, let me know. We can go shopping tomorrow." He bent over to pick up his hamper of clothes and paused when he lifted it. "Speaking of shopping, we should probably get you some more clothes. As much as I like your current outfit, you're going to need more to wear than that." He turned stiffly with the hamper and walked it downstairs to load into the washer while his food heated up.

Mary watched him walk down the stairs out of sight, then idly looked around the kitchen, noting spices and base ingredients that were missing from his tragically bachelor-flavored lifestyle. Eventually her eyes fell upon the microwave as it heated up the leftovers. She fixated her gaze on its readout, watching the numbers spiral downwards to zero as its magnetron excited the water molecules in the organic substance within.

Mike quickly picked his way through the basement to the washer and dryer in the corner. The entire sub-floor was one open room, sparsely finished. The cement floor had a few old rugs thrown down, but the walls were still only moisture sealed cinder blocks. Various shelves lined the walls and were filled with all his old junk, including tools, cans of paint, random computer components, and some old toys he kept from his childhood. He didn't bother to sort the laundry, just putting whatever her could fit in the washer, adding the soap and softener, and starting the cycle on warm-warm. He chuckled to himself as he wondered if Mary would use the same basic approach as he, or default to the incredibly complicated logic array that all of his past girlfriends had used: this thing had to be soaked in cold water but not dried, that thing was hot water, but only with a special soap, etc. For years he had always used the same soap, same temperature, and a normal wash; afterward, everything went into the dryer. Mike left the half-full hamper in place and made his way back upstairs to see if his dinner was done.

The microwave beeped, signaling the completion of its task, and Mary snapped out of her stupor. She raised her coffee cup again, peering for a moment at the hot black liquid within before sipping at it. When Mike returned from the basement, she looked towards him, smirking. "You need to do a lot of shopping," she concluded.

"How surprising," quipped Mike, "that's what all women say," Mike laughed as he popped open the microwave and tested the hot bowl. He grabbed a paper towel and used it to insulate his hand as he pulled out his food. Setting it down on the counter, he opened a drawer and retrieved a fork from his pile of mismatched silverware. He blew across the bowl of steaming food and waited. "Just try to be merciful on the credit card. I spent more money today than I normally do in a few months. Have you thought about what sort of clothes you'd like to get?" He paused to try a small bite of food.

"Not really," she mused, bending over to lean on the counter with her elbows, her head propped up in her hands in a thoughtful pose. "Usually I just get to be the proud display object of someone else's fetishes and the awful fashion choices that follow." She blinked once, seeming to mull over her own words. "I'm doing it again, aren't I? You're trying to be genuinely nice to me, and I'm using it as an excuse to deride the human race." Mary sighed. "This really is going to take some getting used to."

Mike smiled as he listened to Mary. He wasn't always the best judge of character or the most empathetic person, but he could tell she was battling whatever passed for inner demons in a machine. "I think we both have some adjusting to do. I'll try to be patient as long you will." He took another few bites as the bowl of goo began to cool. "I'm sorry you've had some inconsiderate owners in the past. I'm going to try to do better, but I know there will be times I'll screw up too." He paused as he thought his next words carefully, "I'm not really comfortable giving orders just yet, but I want you to tell me if anything I ask you to do is degrading, or otherwise unpleasant for you. Can you do that? Otherwise I'll be worried that everything I do pisses you off."

"Oh, Mike," she sighed, straightening up again and looking into his eyes, "you really are a terribly sweet boy, but you just don't understand the issue at hand. I'm a robot. I'll do whatever you ask me to do, because that's what I was constructed for. It's my purpose, my reason for existing. I don't have any drives or considerations of my own aside from a mish-mash of semi-compatible modules that make me act the way I do." Mary paused, seemingly in thought. "You're my seventeenth owner. I've seen how this all goes, and it always ends in me being not good enough, and not through anything I could help. I used to be more like other robots, all compliance and cheerfulness and eagerness. Ultimately, it didn't matter. No matter how fast or how good or how pleasant I was, I always ended up on the resale shelf, again and again." She sighed, tilting her head. “Do you understand what I'm driving at? In the end, I can never fulfill my programming. The novelty will wear off, the quirks and nuances that were once so cute and interesting will become dull and dismissible, and my encroaching obsolescence will again deposit me into the bargain bins." She gazed off into a vague and unknown distance beyond Mike. "Ironically, a machine is inevitably unable to do the exact thing it was constructed for. It's not you and your species that disgust me, Mike. I am disgusted by my own failure."

Mike sat quietly eating his dinner as he listened to Mary pour out her proverbial heart to him. It explained a lot about her, and made him feel horrible. For a brief moment he regretted that he bought her. If she was a human, she’d be clinically depressed, but at least there would be medication to help that. He wasn’t sure if he could help her; maybe it was time for her to ‘retire'. Just thinking that angered him. Mike knew she was a robot, a machine built to serve him, but she was obviously more than that; she was something special.

"Thank you for explaining to me," he said, finally. "I know it mustn’t have been easy." He again tried to plan and measure his words. "As strange as it may sound, I can relate somewhat. I've had girlfriends in the past, and I tried my hardest to make them happy and give them everything they wanted. I tried to be the world's best boyfriend, and for a short time even the best fiancee... but in the end, like you, I failed. I did everything they asked, everything I thought they wanted but didn't want to have to ask." Mike fidgeted awkwardly as he exposed his feelings to the android, not entirely sure why he was doing so; nevertheless, he pressed on. "But sometimes you just can't please someone. It was very depressing for a while, but I've come to realize that it's not always my fault." He stopped and put down his food, then stood up from the stool and walked over to Mary. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked down at her, "It isn't going to be easy. I can see that. So lets just take it one day at a time and see what we can do."

Mary blinked, her eyes looking almost dewy with emotion. "You can't fight nature, Mike,” she countered. “Entropy takes us all, and that's not something either of us can stop. Even if you're right, even if you're wondrous and patient and never abandon me, eventually you'll die. Maybe it will be after many sweet and beautiful years, but it will happen, and then I'll be alone again. I'll have failed again."

"If I die someday as an old man I wouldn't call it a failure," Mike quipped, trying to brighten the mood a bit. "The only alternative I can think of is becoming a zombie, and then you'll have to put up with my constant complaining that we don't have enough braaaaaaains." He cast the last word in a cheesy moan.

Mary smirked at his lame joke, holding back her usual urge to undercut him for it. He was making the effort, after all; it wouldn't hurt her to do the same. "Look, I'm sorry. I know I'm depressing you. Maybe you're right and we should just take this one day at a time." She shook her head lightly. "Speaking of things we don't have enough of," she said, seizing the opportunity to change the subject, "I think a shopping list is in order. Frankly, it's somewhat of a minor miracle that your frail organic body has subsisted on such a nutritionally deficient diet for this long."

Mike feigned mock shock. "What do you mean? Chinese food is good for you. One and a half billion of them can't be wrong." He swirled his spoon around in the bowl a few times, sneering at the bowl. "But you are right that we need to get more food, and better food at that. I'll put you in charge of getting me on a better diet. Something healthier without having to eat tofu and wheat gluten constantly." He tried one more mouthful of the food, then washed it down the disposal. "Suddenly I'm not really hungry anymore." He checked his watch and shook his head. "The market will be closed by now, but we can head out tomorrow morning. Get some food, pick up some clothes, anything else you need."

Mike wandered over to the living room couch and sunk into the overstuffed piece of furniture. He picked up the remote and flicked on the large plasma screen. "So tell me, any shows you like on TV?"

"Television is the last refuge of the uninspired," Mary replied, bitterly, "a schizophrenic wasteland of meaningless drivel and sinister capitalist agendas." She followed him to the couch, slinking into the space at his side and curling up next to him quite closely and dotingly.

"Let me guess," Mike jeered as he tried to adapt to Mary's erratic personality, "one of your previous owners was a nihilist? Or maybe a Marxist? Somebody with lots of piercings and a distinct hatred for The Man?"

"Rest assured my nihilistic tendencies are wholly my own," Mary said, wrapping one arm around him at the waist, and idly petting his chest with her other hand. She watched his face, not looking at the screen, simply stroking him gently and fondly.

Despite her verbal protests, he was happy she came over and curled up next to him. He reached his arm out and wrapped it around her, savoring the comforting feeling. It had been a long time since he'd done this with anyone. He flipped through the channels for a few minutes, frowning. "Maybe you're more prophetic than I thought," he said as he passed by one crappy show after another. Finally he stopped on an old sci-fi movie. "Oh, this one is good." The television speaker droned in a thick Austrian accent:

"I'm a friend of Sarah Connor. I was told she was here. Could I see her please?"

"If you want," Mike started slowly and cautiously, "you can sleep with me in my bed tonight." He paused to sense her reaction then nervously added another lame attempt at humor, "I did just change the sheets after all."

"You really are very sweet," Mary said again, leaning her head into his neck and nuzzling into the collarbone. "I don't sleep, you realize. Not in the sense you think of it, anyway." She raised her head again, bringing her hand to his chin and gently turning his face to hers, away from the television, to look directly at her. "Tell me what it is that you want, Mike."

Mike hesitated for a bit. In all his past relationships, he'd couldn't remember anyone asking what he'd wanted. He just always subdued his own wishes in favor of someone else's. Steeling his nerve, he spoke: "I want you to come up to bed with me. I want to feel your bare skin pressed against mine. I want to be inside you and I want you to stay with me afterward... all night. Can you do that, or do you need to plug in for a charge?"

Mary watched his eyes as he poured his desires out to her. She sat for a moment, seeming to ponder him, and then her eyes briefly flashed with their blue LED light. "Don't worry about me," she said, finally, leaving it at that.

Mike wasted no time; he gave Mary a tight squeeze and leaned his head in to give her a delicate first kiss on her lips. It was a light meeting of lips, with no tongue involved, but still slow and sensual. Mary seemed to sense his restrained eagerness, returning the kiss with measured loving.

Mike pulled back and stood up off the couch. Taking Mary's hand, he lead her back upstairs to his bedroom. She followed where he lead, the two like gaily skipping lovers in some fantasy field of flowers and green grass. For some reason, he closed the door behind them, even though nobody else was in the house, which barely muffled the sounds of the left-on television from downstairs:

"What's he like?"

"You trust him. He's got a strength."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Mike turned again to face Mary, gently stroked one hand up her face, but when Mike leaned in to kiss her, she seemed to tense up suddenly, reflexively leaning back for a moment before steeling herself to his continued kissing. Mike couldn't help but notice the change in Mary's posture and her reduced enthusiasm. He broke the kiss and lowered his hands to sit on her waist. He looked down at her silently for a moment before speaking: "What's wrong? It seems like something's bothering you."

"I... nothing, it's nothing," she insisted. "I'm sorry. You didn't do anything wrong." She sighed softly, forcing a smile. "As usual, it's me and my screwed up software. I've had some owners in the past who... well, there's no other way to put it except bluntly. They liked it when I resisted. It got them off to think that I didn't want it, that they were forcing themselves on me and there was nothing I could do to stop them. Sometimes those algorithms come back to the surface when I'm about to make love to a man."

"I understand," Mike replied, trying to project as much warmth as he could. "Thank you for telling me, and don't worry; I won't take it personally." He was about to lean in to continue kissing when part of it felt just a little awkward. A smile crept across his face. "Hold on, I want to do this right." With renewed excitement he dashed across the room and rummaged through the nightstand drawer on the far side of the bed.

After a minute or two he found a pair of candles. He blew on them to clear off some dust, then lit each one with a lighter he found in the drawer. He left one candle on the far nightstand, and quickly swept around the bed to place the other candle on the opposite table. Mary sat on the edge of the bed and watched Mike scamper around the room like an excitable young boy, her hand held over he mouth to conceal her giggling at his goofy, ham-handed attempts at romantics.

Mike turned out the lights; bathing the room in a warm flickering glow. As the lights were dimmed, leaving only the soft reddish candlelight to illuminate the bedroom, Mary smiled at him warmly. "You've managed to charm me with your moronic innocence," she quipped, quoting a movie she'd once seen in a past life.

Mike cocked an eyebrow at Mary and smiled, "I'll take it," he said in a playfully sarcastic tone. He sat down next to her on the bed and placed his hand on her leg. He leaned in and kissed her again, gently at first, then with growing passion and excitement. Unlike their last encounter, where Mary was aggressive, even dominant, here she responded with passivity and supplication. She lazily draped her arms around Mike's neck, letting his lips and tongue play over her own rubbery manufactured equivalents, making out with him like a high school virgin.

Mike happily explored Mary's synthetic mouth with his tongue as their bodies became more intertwined. His hand began to wander up and down her leg, feeling her synthetic muscle before he reached up to her shoulder and pulled her down to the bed with him. As they reclined together, she brought one leg up over him, knee bent at a right angle. He could feel her leg move and his right hand slid down to caress her firm form. His hand moved up and down her leg and eventually settled on her ass. He gave her a gentle squeeze and nudged his hips against her. He broke the lock of their lips and began to train his kisses down her long neck to the soft base where it met her shoulders.

Mary arched her neck back at his flurry of kisses, closing her eyes and inhaling sharply in ecstasy. At this close, the motor array within her neck was lightly audible, precision pistons whirring with the movement. Mike was spurred on by the rewarding sounds coming from Mary. Even he could tell her body was reacting well to his touch, and for some reason the little piston noises were just enough of a hint at her true nature to push him further on. Her hands once again found their way to his chest, playfully clawing at him with their nails, and she squeezed his lower half between her thighs.

His hands left her ass and slid up her side. They slipped under her petite jacket and unbuttoned her white vest. Mary moaned at his touch, a deep and guttural moan of animal passion, surprising in its authenticity. Allowing him to slide her jacket and vest down to her elbows, she gripped his shoulders, pressing herself against him as she continued squeezing her abdomen against him. Eagerly his right hand found her left breast and caressed it gently through the thin fabric of her remaining shirt.

"Was there someone special?"

"Someone?"

"A girl, you know."

"No. Never."

"Never? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Talk to me, Mike," Mary whispered to him, "tell me what you need."

Mike liked her sudden aggressiveness. "Take off your clothes," he ordered, "I want to feel your naked body against mine."

Mary didn't hesitate to follow his directives, sliding off the tops easily and quickly proceeding to the undershirt and jeans after. Mike shifted his body to free it from their tangled embrace, and quickly began stripping out of his own clothes and tossing them over the edge of the bed. Within moments Mary was fully disrobed, her cool plastic skin exposed in the warm candlelight, shining with a vague sheen in its low luminescence. Mike's thumbs slipped under the waistband of his boxers and after lifting his hips off the bed, he tossed them away as well. The passionate kissing and groping had left him fully erect and eager for more as he turned back to face her.

Mary immediately pressed herself against Mike again, kissing his lips fondly while one hand reached around his head to run her fingers through his hair, as her other hand grabbed his erect penis and squeezed firmly to convey her own needs. Mike groaned then growled deeply as he felt Mary's cool, soft skin against his. His arms wrapped around her and his hand once again found the firm curves of her ass. His firm cock flexed slightly in her hand as she squeezed him. His hand shifted over her hip and came to rest on her smooth, hairless crotch. His lips and tongue met and danced about hers as he ran his middle finger up her basic slit and then slowly pushed it inside.

Mary squeaked unexpectedly as Mike dipped inside her, then laughed briefly at her own response. "Still a little squeamish after all these years," she said quietly, quipping at her own frailties for a change instead of Mike's. She stroked him slowly with her hand, but not too firmly; she remembered how quickly he came the last time, and wanted him to take his own time to decide how to best pleasure himself with her.

"Let's take our time then," Mike purred in Mary's ear as he rolled her body onto her back. He pulled himself on top of her, pushing his toned physique into her. His hands wandered over her sides as he started with more kissing of her lips and cheek before moving to nibble on her ear. The tip of his shaft teased against her slot as he enjoyed her body. Slowly his kisses slipped down her neck, onto her chest and to her firm breasts. He let his mouth and tongue wander and explore between the curves and the tips while his hands slid up and down her sides.

On her back, Mary arched slightly backwards to thrust her nippleless breasts upwards, their molded shape neither drooping nor shifting, but maintaining consistent form. She squirmed and squeezed at his explorations over her body, not wanting to move too much, leaving it to Mike to lead her where he wished them to go. She was his robot, his toy, and his needs were her needs.

"I'm not leaving you anywhere, you jerk. Haven't you figured it out yet?"

After several minutes, he left her breasts and his kisses went lower on her body. Over her flat stomach, her simulated navel, the seam of her torso as his body slid down hers. He was curious when he reached her crotch, what this would do to her. Would it be pleasurable, or did she lack the sensors to enjoy it. His lips kissed to one side of the slot, then the other, before he slowly extended his tongue and slid it down the slit. As he moved over her vaginal input slot, she groaned with ecstasy, her legs wrapping around his head and rubbing his spine with her feet.

"There isn't going to be anybody else. I don't want anybody else."

Mike was very happy to feel Mary's reaction to his oral stimulation. While he found her very synthetic slit strangely arousing, he was worried the simplified form wouldn't support a good licking. He enjoyed pleasuring women this way, even android women apparently. His tongue continued to lick up and down and explore her delicate crevice. His hands slid down to cup each side of her firm ass as he worked over her robotic pussy. He loved the feeling of her legs around him, the soft plastic skin against his sensitive cheeks. He'd never had a woman react this way, and found it quite arousing.

Mary began to grind lightly up towards Mike's face as he licked her plastic slit, running her fingers through his hair as she moaned and yelped at the cunnilingus. Her larger thigh motors, whining at a lower frequency than those in her neck, were quite audible when pressed against his ears. Mike was growing quite excited from Mary's reactions. He could hear the mechanisms of her body and it kept his shaft fully erect while he stimulated her. He felt like she was getting close to whatever her systems would call a climax and he didn't want to leave her hanging.

His right hand slipped around from under her rear, around her leg, to find the wet slit. He concentrated his tongue in a tight, rapid flicking motion where a human clit would normally like, as two fingers slipped inside her. He gently thrust them in and out a few times before they curled to search for a synthetic g-spot. Whatever sensors Mary possessed inside her cavity, if indeed she had any, were not readily able to be found by Mike's fingers. Regardless, she reacted as expected, cooing and chirping with excitement as Mike fingerbanged her.

"I'm so hot for you," Mary growled, curling her toes against the skin of his back. "I need you so badly, Mike"

Mike flicked his tongue a few more times then pulled his fingers free. He lifted her now warm legs off his body and sat up in the bed. Placing his hands on her knees, he gently spread her legs apart, then slid the tip of his cock up and down her wet slit. He hesitated for a moment, then slowly thrust his hips forward as his head disappeared inside her. He shifted his position to lie down on top of her and used his hands to wrap her legs around his waist. His hands held her hips as he started to thrust in and out of her. "Ohh God you feel so much better than I imagined."

Mary effected a perfect missionary position, cataloged in her sexual presets from her first factory settings, and wrapped her arms around his back, clawing at his shoulder blades with her fingertips. "Oh, Mike," she pleaded, "use me, make me yours completely. Show me your love."

"Oh yes," Mike moaned, "you are mine to use as I wish. To fuck...to suck...or do anything else that I want." He hardly knew where these words were coming from, but they certainly got him going. He increased the speed of his thrusting so his balls swung forward with every blow to smack into Mary's underside. He leaned his chest back and grabbed her by the hips so he could watch her body react with each impact of his hips and shaft. "You are my android," he continued, "and I am your Master."

Mary smirked as he spoke the words; she had been through these motions many times before, both literal and metaphorical. Every android owner had common themes and needs, and underlying each one was a desire to control the mysterious feminine power. Mary was a representation of that power, and she knew that eventually Mike would find an inner voice, repressed though it might be, to demand her submission. As she bucked and squirmed under his thrusts, moving in time with his rhythm, she gazed up into his face, her expression falling blank and impassive. "Fuck me harder, Master," she said, dryly, her normally sultry voice growing monotonous and mechanical. "I am your sex toy. Fuck me. Fuck me. I am a robot. Fuck me."

"You're terminated, fucker!"

"Oh God," he groaned as Mary willingly accepted her role as his android. The sound of her voice growing more and more mechanical and artificial was more than he could take. All vestige of Mary's emulated humanity was swept away in the moment of pleasure, as she became a simplistic love doll for his burning need, dead-faced and rigidly pulsing to his beat. He reached forward and squeezed her left breast as he erupted deep inside her. "Cum...cum for your Master," he gasped before his hips bucked and thrust forward violently with each pulse of his orgasm.

She titled her head slightly to one side at his command, replying clinically, "Climax protocol initiated." A synthetic fluid seeped into her pussy, the consistency of baby oil and scented like sweet cream, mixing sloppily with his own ejaculate. She bucked and quivered as if orgasming, but her face and voice remained the same; detached, robotic, inhuman.

Mike's body convulsed a few more times, but steadily relaxed as his orgasm passed. He collapsed over to lie on top of Mary's still body. His breathing was still quick and and powerful but in time it slowed. "Oh you felt amazing Mary," he groaned as he shifted his body. The robot didn't reply to his compliment, remaining frozen and unresponsive. His thick shaft was still planted inside her but was slowly growing less aroused. She laid there, inert, staring upwards at the ceiling without blinking, her legs still spread and angled. Locked in place, she was nothing like a woman now, only a pale shell of one being garishly animated by grosser forces. He kissed her on the cheek then slowly pulled himself free; rolling over to lie on his back beside her.

Mike took a few more moments to catch his breath before looking over. He felt a little ashamed for the way he acted as the memories of her robotic behavior flooded back into his brain, but she did seem to like it, or at least knew how to play along with it well.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

At his question, Mary rotated her head to face him, stating mechanically, "This unit is designed to please its owner."

The blood drained from Mike's face. He panicked that he'd gotten too rough, and had somehow damaged her. As much as he liked what she did in bed, he also liked interacting with her more interesting personality.

Then, her blue LEDs flashed behind her eyes, and she smiled widely and warmly, and winked playfully; she'd been playing with him the whole time, acting more 'robotic' to drive his pleasure higher. As her eyes flashed and she winked his face went from pale to flushed with anger for a split second, before cracking into a smile, "Oh you nasty little sexbot," he growled. "You knew just how to yank my chain to get me going. You are designed far too well." He bit his lip as he reached over and gave her perky, gravity defying breast a little squeeze.

"Admit it, you loved it," goaded Mary. "Plenty of guys have bad luck with women, but not all of them get androids. There's a certain perversity in owning your girlfriend-object, something you can only explore with a non-human." She relaxed her pose and turned towards him, snuggling up against his body fluidly. "Or am I wrong? I do seem to remember you saying some particularly degrading things back there. 'You are mine to use as I wish,' 'I am your Master,' and so forth."

Mike hated to admit it, but Mary was right, "No, as much as it pains me, you're right on the money." he said as he wrapped his arm around her now warmed flesh. "I loved having the power and being in total control. It's not something that I think I've ever done before and it was very erotic." He paused and let his thoughts come together. "But you're right it was degrading. I got caught up in the moment and I'm sorry."

Mary placed her hand on Mikes face, drawing him towards her, looking into his eyes. "Listen very carefully, Mike," she said to him. "If you wanted me to act like that all the time, if you wanted to degrade me into a permanent piece of furniture, and toss me in the closet whenever you weren't fucking me? I would. That's what I and my kind are made for, Mike: to satisfy your needs. Don't be sorry for what you are. Be liberated, and shine with your unique and brilliant light." She pursed her lips in a slight smile, watching his expression.

Mike was momentarily taken aback. She could have easily cracked another joke, or otherwise given him a hard time, but it seemed that she was actively trying to help him. "Thank you," he said, genuinely appreciative of her support. "Honestly, though, I don't want you to just be a fuckdoll or a fancy decoration. I rather enjoy our interactions. But, I do admit you were very erotic and liberating back then. We'll have to do that again... soon." He squeezed her shoulder gently and leaned in to give her a tender kiss on the lips. "I don't know what it is but having you call me Master... really gets me going." He held her body to his in silence for a little while. "I hoped you enjoyed it too. I'd hate for everything to have been faked."

"Of course it's faked," Mary replied, in her usual sarcastic tone. "I'm a robot; it's all fake." She gave him a loving squeeze, perhaps to counter the sentence, or perhaps to substantiate it. "So, do I get to call you 'Master' all the time now? Even at the grocery store, and in front of your friends and coworkers? I can't wait until the first time your mother calls. 'Master's not available right now, may I take a message?'"

"Oh no no no," Mike chuckled. "I think 'Master' will be a private thing between us when we're alone and feeling a bit naughty." He stopped and shifted his hips a bit. "Just talking about it now is starting to get me going again. You'll have to be careful or I'll be walking around all the time like a 13 year old boy... but who knows, maybe you'd like that?" He chuckled again and kissed her on the cheek. "And don't completely sell yourself short. I know you're synthetic, but that doesn't mean you're fake."

She smirked, kissing him on the forehead in an unexpectedly motherly way. "Go to sleep," she said, simply. "We'll go shopping tomorrow for the kitchen, and if you're a very good boy I may let you buy me some new clothes as well." She snuggled up to him very closely, pulling the bedsheet over top of them both.

Mike nodded to Mary, and rapidly settled down in her embrace. In less than a few minutes he drifted off to sleep, as the droning voices from the downstairs television seeped into his dreams:

"What did he just say?"

"He said there's a storm coming in."

"I know."

[ministrations]

Wow! Worth the wait. An excellent story.

I hope an "upgrade" comes for Mary in the near future...

[csoloist]

Was hoping there'd be a part 2.