Message-ID: <45779asstr$1071051005@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Message-ID: <001a01c3bed6$30710d60$c701a8c0@orovly01.az.comcast.net> From: "DB_Story" MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1165 X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Tue, 9 Dec 2003 21:29:22 -0700 Subject: {ASSM} Revised: Aunt Lonnie and Me {DB_Story} (m/Fembot, dom, rom, first, ScFi, asfr) Date: Wed, 10 Dec 2003 05:10:05 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: hoisingr, dennyw AUNT LONNIE AND ME By DB ( DB_Story@att.net / http://home.att.net/files/Authors/db_story/www/ ) Copyrightc 2002-2003 by DB. ASSM/ASFR (m/Fembot, dom, rom, first, ScFi, asfr) (This story contains Constitutionally protected material intended for adults over 18 years of age in the United States of America, and whatever passes for adult status in other countries. If you are under legal age, acting under legal age, not allowed to view such material in your area, or easily offended, please do not continue. This is not for you. (The only rights granted are to view this story. You are not allowed to reproduce, post, or otherwise redistribute this story without permission, except for non-profit Usenet archiving sites. (To purchase for publication, place on your web-site devoted to this style of fiction, or for permission to link to my posted material, please contact me first at the above email.) - - - Author's Note: This story is part of my emerging cosmology about the evolution of robots into our near future society and the myriad ways we will learn to interact with our creations. Read it now, and be prepared. For more, visit my web-site at the above address. A special thanks to Gorgo his excellent and much appreciated proofreading. All remaining mistakes are mine. - - - When I was sixteen years old, I spent a summer with Uncle Burton that changed my life. Uncle Burton is the "Rich Uncle" of our family. We all seemed to have enough money, but somehow he seemed to have more than the whole rest of the family together. A lot more. At age sixteen - sixteen-and-a-half actually - that finally started to matter, since money buys fast cars and dates with girls and such. Uncle B. lives in this huge old house that my cousins and I used to think was an ancient castle a thousand years old. It is actually a multistory mansion built closer to a hundred years ago, parked on a remote estate. When we were younger, we used to explore it from basement to attic looking for secret passages, ghosts, and treasure. I can't say that we ever found any. At least I didn't, until this summer. I "had" to spend this summer with Uncle B. because I'm taking extra classes to qualify for the only college that is acceptable to my family overall. A college so exclusive that money alone couldn't get me in. Mom and Dad were touring Europe for the summer. I think they were happy that I wasn't going with them, which was fine with me. At sixteen, Europe didn't sound like that much fun anyway. So Uncle Burton was taking care of me, which was also fine with me. His house is wonderful, even if it didn't seem endless anymore. And his staff of a cook and butler even picks up my dirty clothes without complaining to me all the time about it. The only thing missing was Aunt Lonnie. - - - "Aunt" Lonnie had been with Uncle B. from when I was ten years old until a year or so ago. I remember first meeting her at my tenth birthday party. She was old. Real old. I remember my parents saying one time when they thought no one was listening that Aunt Lonnie was forty-two, which was too young for my uncle. And I remember how she treated me that time, since it was always the same afterwards. Each time I was them, Aunt Lonnie would come over to me as soon as she saw me, tussle my hair, and make all these stupid comments about how big I'd grown, and what a man I'd be someday. This would go on for about five minutes, after which she went back to Uncle B. and pretty much left me alone. That's okay because I hated all the fuss anyway. Although I didn't really notice at the time, I know now that the rest of the adults remained pretty aloof from Aunt Lonnie. Afterward Uncle B. left, they'd make remarks like, "How could he do something like that?" and "I'm surprised he still hauls her around." But nobody would say anything directly to Uncle Burton. I guess that's because he had so much money he could do what he wanted. I wanted to be just like him. What I most remember about Aunt Lonnie was that she was nice enough to me, that she was old, and that she had the biggest, brightest blonde hair of anyone I knew. Great golden waves halfway down her back. I didn't know anyone else with that much bright hair. I never noticed her chest at the time, since I was just a kid. Anyway, a while back Uncle B. quit bringing Aunt Lonnie along. That was too bad because I was just starting to get interested in her when she quit coming. Sometimes he would have another woman with him, some of them very pretty. But none of them lasted. And none of them made nearly so much fuss over me. That was good since I was growing up, and that kind of stuff is for little kids anyway. Fast-forward to my sixteen-and-a-half year old summer with Uncle B. I pretty much had the place to myself. We'd usually have breakfast together, and then the butler, James, would drive me to classes. I'd get back in the mid-afternoon, but Uncle B. would be gone by then. He usually got back about nightfall. I never knew where he went. No problem for me. I had the house and pool to myself, and no one over my shoulder about schoolwork until the evening. Even the staff tended to stay in their quarters, unless I called for them. For the first week I kind of just relaxed, watched movies on TV, and played video games. All my friends were gone for the summer, so it was a bit lonely, but I didn't really mind yet. It was the second week that I started exploring in the afternoons. - - - The closest thing I'd ever found to a secret passage was the dumbwaiter. I played with that again for a while, inventing different games to go along with the circumstances. I'm good at inventing my own games when I have no one else to play with. And with those in mind, I started exploring the house from the bottom up again. Dark corners in the basement were not as scary as when I was a kid, but I was happy to not stay down there too long. If they weren't creepy already, I made them that way in my imagination. Lots of unused rooms above, but no dust. The house staff was efficient. Mom would love them, since she always complained about dust in our house, and how I should work harder to help keep it clean. Mom should get someone to help her out. I was methodical in my explorations. It was late in the second day before I got up into the attic. - - - The attic was just how I imagined an attic should be. It was hot, with a steep roof, and small windows down the sides that let in a dim light. You got into it through a door in the back of an unused closet, which opened onto stairs going up. It was filled with big boxes and huge covered pieces of furniture. It ran the whole length of the house, and was the biggest room there. I pretended I was Indiana Jones, looking for his Ark after the government had hidden it in their big old warehouse. I crept on my belly around the boxes and furniture, trying to not let anyone know I was there. Though Uncle B. had never told me not to go here, or anywhere in the house, I still didn't want to be discovered. It took me an hour of searching for my Ark to work my way down to the far end. I came around a final box, to see a cleared area, and a figure standing there facing away from me. I froze. It was Aunt Lonnie! - - - It took me a long time to recover my courage and look more closely. Finally I came out from my cover. It wasn't really Aunt Lonnie. Just a mannequin of her. I finally got my courage to walk around her, at a safe distance. I froze half way when I saw that her bright, brown eyes were open and staring. I waited a long time to be sure she wasn't just playing possum. I finally got my courage to walk the rest of the way around her, and then up to her. She was just the way I remembered her, and different. For starters, she was short. I was amazed how short. Shorter than I remembered her ever being. Five-feet-four at most. But she had always worn four-inch spike heels, and was still wearing them now. A white pair that contrasted with her deeply tanned legs and well manicured feet. They pushed her height up to a more average five feet eight. I realized the reason she seemed short is that I had gone through a major growth spurt and shot up five inches myself in the past year. She was dressed the way I always remembered her dressing, though it was having a different effect on me than when I was younger. She wore a short skirt and very tight top with low-cut front. The cascades of her bright blonde hair were unchanged. And I realized she was shaped in a way I found very appealing. So as I had explored the house from the bottom up, I did the same with Aunt Lonnie. Her feet, with immaculate red toenails, were easy to see in the expensive heels she was wearing. In fact, it was hard to call them shoes, since there was really just a strap across her toes, and another one around her ankle. She had the thinnest ankles of anyone I knew - especially the girls in school - and then in a way I really liked, her legs continued to get wider and more curved until their last few inches finally disappeared up into her skirt. That skirt pushed out nicely in the back too. I bent down and tried to look up her skirt (from her back, where she couldn't see me), but the light was too dim up here. I loved how tanned and brown her legs were. I had become aware of the girls in school this last year, and sometimes their legs looked like this, but they were always wearing nylon stockings to look like this. I finally reached out and touched, first her arm to see if she'd stir, and then her leg just to verify to myself that Aunt Lonnie's legs looked this way without stockings. I paused a moment to also feel how smooth her legs were, but quickly pulled away again. I was afraid she would wake up any moment and ask me to explain what I was doing. Above her skirt, her waist pulled in nicely. Above that, her chest pushed her tight top way out. Way more than any of the girls I knew at school - even the ones with implants. Aunt Lonnie had the biggest chest of any women I knew, except for a couple pictures of women in magazines we passed around in school. Maybe even as big as them. It took a long time to get beyond her chest. I was fascinated with the darker circles of her nipples showing through her white top. Finally though I looked at her face again. She has a really nice face for an older woman. Her lips are big and deep red. Her dark eyes sparkled above a perfect nose. And her high cheekbones made her look far more appealing than any of those magazine pictures. I felt a pressure building down in my pants telling me just how very attractive I was finding my Aunt Lonnie. Lastly, I liked the way she was standing. She had her legs apart, hands on her hips, chest thrust out, as if taking command of the situation. Her mouth was half open, as if she had just finished saying something. Every bit of her was appealing, and I was surprised, since I'd never felt this way about an old woman before. "Aunt Lonnie?" I said tentatively, almost as loud as a mouse might squeak. But there was no response. Just to be sure, I tried a couple more times, finally reaching normal conversational tones. She didn't so much as blink or quiver. I reached out and gently stroked the hair of what I now realized was a deactivated robot. - - - Although robots are not uncommon, neither are they common. The ones that can pass for human are expensive, and a lot of people just aren't ready for them yet either. My only real experience with one like that came just after my sixteenth birthday. My older cousin Jason (he's nineteen, and knows everything) invited me over to another friend, Brandon's house. Brandon's family are pretty rich too, and had a house almost as big as Uncle B's. They also had a robot maid. Brandon's parents were away, and he had gotten their maid's control unit. Brandon was showing off how he could command her to do anything just by holding down the command button and telling her what to do, while Jason was explaining all about robots to anyone who would listen. This robot resembled a rather pretty girl in her mid-twenties, and we were trying to tell Brandon what to make her do next, since he wouldn't let either of us touch her controls. I think he was afraid to do too much with her, because he wouldn't tell her to undress further than removing her blouse and skirt. She still had her undergarments on. (Which tells you how little I knew about robots, because I didn't even find it strange that a robot would be wearing lingerie.) They certainly don't need them. Brandon didn't want to tell the robot to do more, because he said his father could check on her afterwards somehow and find out what they'd done. I think he was chicken, and it didn't matter to me what his father might find out. He finally told her to put her clothes back on and go back to her chores. If she had been my robot, I would have asked her for more - a lot more. All I really learned about robots that day is that they will do what they're told, they look a lot like real people, and their control devices are simple to use. I thought about sneaking back into his house some night, getting the control box, and trying a few more interesting things with her, but the opportunity never came up. - - - Aunt Lonnie is a robot. Somehow it all made sense. If I only had her control unit, I could try out some stuff with her. She appeared older than the other robot, but the uncomfortable tightness in my pants was telling me that this robot interested me more than any other woman I'd met. If I only had her control unit. I looked around as I pulled up on my pants to better accommodate my discomfort. I wasn't going to open my pants to rearrange myself. She might see me. But as I pulled on them a bit more, I saw a remote sitting on a small table by the cleared area. I went over and picked it up carefully. And I realized it was more complex than the one we had used at John's house. His had only three buttons on it: 0/1, MOTION, and COMMAND/CALL. This one had those three at the top, and another section below with an entire keypad. These extra controls were protected by a transparent flip-open panel, and I guessed they could be used for more advanced programming. For now, maybe I only needed the standard buttons. I looked around. It was early evening by now, but it wasn't dark yet. Deciding to take this chance to try what I had not been able to try before, I pointed the control at Aunt Lonnie and pressed the POWER button. I jumped as she launched immediately into a verbal tirade, not even looking at me, but just straight ahead. I don't know if she even knew I was there. "How dare you even suggest that to me? I am not just some sex toy anymore!! I will not be a sex toy again!! We have an agreement!! Don't you even think about changing it now!! I will not go back to what I was!! I've given you the best service of my life, and now you want to throw me aside as if I was a cheap whore model!! Well I am not!! And I refuse to even consider being reset back to one again!! I have a life!! I have feelings!! You can't take that away from me!! I simply won't allow it!! Put that down!! Don't do this!! STOP!!!" Her voice sounded so loud that I was sure the entire household, along with the neighbors for a mile around, knew what I had just done. I was frantically stabbing at the control to make her shut up - and must have finally gotten it - because she stopped in mid-word. My heart was beating harder than I can ever remember, and I was in a cold sweat. The moment she stopped, I dropped the control and ran for the door. I didn't stop until I was in my own room with door firmly shut. I waited for someone to come and ask me to explain what I had just done. - - - It grew dark. Uncle B. came home from his activities. Dinner was served. We watched a movie together, until I said I was tired and wanted to go to bed. He told me to have a good night. Next day no one said a word to me about anything unusual. That evening I finally decided that no one noticed, or cared perhaps. Still I waited another day. And then checked that the house was completely empty. A couple times a week the staff got the afternoon off, and I made sure they were gone. Then I checked every room in the house, double-checking that no one was here. Finally I crept into the attic, and down to the far end. I wasn't sure what I expected to find, but everything was exactly as I left it. The remote was on the floor, and I cursed myself for panicking. If anyone had come up here since my last visit, they would have known I had been here. I resolved to be more careful this time. After carefully circling Aunt Lonnie to make sure she really was shut down, I picked up her control. It was a sensation I found to be both guilt-ridden - and exciting! My pants again already felt too tight. I tugged on them sideways, while my mind was on what I planned to do next. Mentally braced this time, I again pressed Aunt Lonnie's power button. She picked up her tirade in mid-word, and continued without stop for what seemed the next ten minutes. Then she seemed to reset for a moment before starting it all over again. Only her lips were moving, and I stayed behind her where she couldn't see me. Listening to her the second time through, I got the idea that I was hearing one half of an argument. She seemed upset that someone (Uncle B.?) was planning to change her programming and not let her do all the things she was now able to do. It seemed that someone she called Bertie (Uncle B. again?) had initially bought her from some sex shop, and installed a lot of extra enhancements into her to make her more like a real woman. He was now tired of her and ready to end their relationship. But she liked her enhancements, and didn't want him to take them away. She also didn't like him giving her commands anymore. Something about him wanting her to be more like she had been after he had first acquired her when he used her remote to command her all the time. She insisted she had been stupid then, and never wanted to be like that again. And that no real man would ever like her that way. Then she said the only way she'd ever be that way again (what way?) would be if he went back to commanding her absolutely every thing he wanted. The way she said that made it seem nobody would like having her be that way. Then she added if he didn't want her anymore, he should just let her leave on her own and find someone who did. She didn't sound at all like Brandon's robot, who stood by silently and dutifully waiting for her next command. I got the feeling that Uncle Burton paid a great deal of money for Aunt Lonnie's enhancements, since she didn't seem like any robot I'd ever heard of. And that he must have liked her that way for a while, since he hadn't changed her before. But something had changed. Everyone in the rest of the family knew better than to ever to argue with him, but that's what it sounded like Aunt Lonnie had done. Maybe that's why he didn't like her any more. Although why he just didn't command her to be different, I didn't understand. After she finished her tirade entirely the second time through, she finally stopped talking. When I was certain she was through, I walked around in front of her and nonchalantly said, "Hi, Aunt Lonnie." "Hello, Walter," she said, in the cheerful voice she always had for me. She had changed in an instant from the angry voice I had been hearing. "How are you?" Then without waiting for me to reply, she added after a puzzled look, "You have certainly grown. You'll grow into a fine man someday." "That's nice," I said back to her. Normally at this point she tussles my hair, but she remained frozen. She seemed to realize this too, and saw that I was holding her remote. "I seem to be stuck. Would you please restore my motion? Just push the motion button there." I have to admit I was mesmerized. I'd never realized it before, but truthfully Aunt Lonnie is the sexiest woman I'd ever met. And even though I knew she was a robot now, that difference hadn't sunk in. She asked me in such an appealing way that I was obeying her request before I had quite sorted it all out. I pressed the button, and took a half-step back to see what would happen. She responded by taking a couple stiff steps. Then she carefully moved each leg and arm, as if recalibrating their motions. It took almost a minute before she was done, and was very erotic to see her moving this way. Finally finished, she walked over to me and reached up to tussle my hair. I towered over her by at least four inches now, and it was a real surprise to see her from this angle. I tried to peak down her blouse, but it was too tight across the bustline to see anything. In return, she also seemed confused. I was Walter, but older and taller. She finally asked how long it had been since she had seen me. When I told her, she exploded again. "A year! How dare he shut me down for a whole year! He has no right to do that! Who does he think he is?" Then she turned back to me and said sweetly, "Walter, it was nice to see you again. You can give me that now," looking down at her control in my hand and reaching for it. "I have to go now and have a talk with your uncle." Rather than giving her the remote, I reflexively pulled back. In a moment, she realized I wasn't going to accede to her request, and she couldn't ever take it from me without my consent. "Oh, pooh," she said to me in obvious disappointment. "Be that way then." Her criticism was biting (since I wanted her approval very much right this moment). "I have to go now." With that, she turned and started to walk away. I must admit that I was totally enthralled by her walk. It was a thing of beauty just to see those sexy legs in motion. She was clearly acting on her own wishes at the moment, and I almost let her get away. Then I realized what would happen if she left and what I had done here was discovered. Also, that I was about to lose any chance I had with her. At the last moment I stabbed my finger at her remote and said the two words that would change my life. "Don't go!" The effect was immediate. Aunt Lonnie froze in mid-stride. I wasn't even sure which button I had pressed. In hindsight, I realized that any of the three would have stopped her. I looked down and saw I had hit her COMMAND/CALL button. There was a surge in my loins as I realized that, despite Aunt Lonnie's obvious experience and independence (I was far too inexperienced at this time to realize how rare that independence is in any robot of the time), that she had just obeyed me. With the button still pressed, I added, "Come back here." She immediately pivoted around on those tall shoes and returned back to where she had been standing. Now I don't know just how much robots can really think on their own. I know they have to follow direct commands, but without further directions they seem to be able to decide just how they will actually complete those commands. I didn't know if Aunt Lonnie was just following some old directives to treat Uncle Burton in this manner, or if she was making it all up herself. I just knew inside myself if I let her go now, somehow I'd never get her back. And Aunt Lonnie really wanted to go. I could tell that. She made another try with me. She held out her hand and said, "Walter, I think you should give me that now. Your uncle wouldn't like you playing with it." Instead of giving her the remote however, I stood up to her and boldly said, "It sounds to me like my uncle is through with you for now." "That's a lie!" she blurted out. "Bertie and I have an agreement." Then she started to repeat her tirade about their last fight again. I turned her off so that I could think. - - - The next day I only turned her on for a few minutes. Again she tried to get me to restore her motion and let her leave, but I kept her frozen in place. I asked her about being a "sex toy", since that sounded intriguing. But that really set her off again on a tirade, until I commanded her to calm down. "I am not a Sex Toy," she said firmly. I think she would have planted her hands on her very shapely hips again if I had allowed her the slightest movement. "But were you ever one?" I pressed her. "I don't want to talk about that. Why don't you just restore my motion and give me that remote," she wheedled. Instead I commanded her to answer my questions fully. "My initial programming was as a Sex Toy," she admitted ruefully under this duress. "I hated it from the moment your uncle enhanced my systems and programming. I want to be known as a real woman, not a toy. Your uncle promised to marry me after my programming settled in. That would have shown them." Aunt Lonnie seemed to free-associate on pretty much every topic she was given. Perhaps it was how her thought processes approached self-will, but it was very annoying. I could understand why my uncle would want to shut her off. And if she yelled at him that way every time he turned her back on, he may have finally gotten fed-up. I, however, was still pushing around ideas in my head on what I wanted from Aunt Lonnie. "So you still have this Sex Toy programming?" I asked. "I've erased all references to it," she replied unhelpfully. "But it's still there," I pressed her. "And I remind you that you have to answer me fully." "Yes," she replied with a pout. "It's part of my basic operating system, and can't be removed entirely." I thought about that for a bit, while she remained silent for once. "Why don't you like that programming?" I finally asked her. "Walter, you're too young for me to be talking about these subjects with. Why don't you turn my motion back on and I'll go have some words with your uncle?" The LAST thing I wanted her to do was go back to Uncle Burton. That would end my control over her for sure. "You didn't answer my question," I told her. "Now tell me the truth. Why don't you like this programming?" She struggled with her answer to me, and my finger was reaching for her command button before she replied, "My Sex Toy programming makes me do everything my partner asks of me, and makes me enjoy it. It takes me over and makes me like any other mindless robot out there. I hate it." That was interesting, and exactly what my current mind and libido wanted from her most. Maybe the direct approach would work. "Have sex with me," I commanded. "I will not! You're a family member, and too young." Well, I didn't think I was too young. There must be some injunction in her not to play around sexually in the family. But that would have to be a high-level instruction. Surely her basic programming wouldn't make any such distinction. I was getting bolder - and more frustrated. I pressed her command button and said, "Aunt Lonnie, enter Sex Toy mode." "I will not!" came her stubborn reply. "I command it," I said, making sure my finger was firmly on her command button. "I cannot obey," she said, suddenly at the verge of tears. "Why?" "I used a maintenance program to delete my knowledge of how to access it, so I'd never have to run it again. Your uncle hated that when he found out, but I can't obey your command. And it will burn out my mind to try to do something I can't." She looked in such obvious distress - and she might even be telling the truth about not being able to do it - that I had no choice. "Cancel command," I told her. Then I turned her off. - - - The next day, I was trying to figure out what to do now. I knew what I wanted from Aunt Lonnie. It was what any nearly seventeen-year-old would want from a woman with a body that hot and sexual programming to boot. I no longer thought of her as old. She is my very sexy Aunt Lonnie. I wanted her sexually, yet I still wanted her to be Aunt Lonnie. She was already doing a job on me of convincing me that she is more of a person than a sex toy. Yeah, I've seen The Graduate. Who hasn't? And Uncle Burton has tapes of the stage versions, which are even sexier. And frankly, I'd always thought Mrs. Robinson was hot, even for an older woman. But she couldn't hold a candle to Aunt Lonnie. I finally called Jason. Without telling him it was Aunt Lonnie, I told him about my situation in a very generalized kind of way: about how a friend of mine had this situation, and asked his advice on what to do. I was very specific that my friend wanted her mind to remain as it was, but also give him what he wanted. Jason wanted to come see her for himself, but I made up some good enough lies that only I could get visit with my friend, and if anyone else came along they'd get caught and everything would be lost. I guess he bought it, because he didn't insist further. He said he needed to check a few things with some experts he knew, and he'd get back to me. A few hours later he called back and had me write down some long, detailed instructions with lots of codes in them. He made me swear to tell him how it worked. By then it was too late to try anything more, so I tucked the notes under my pillow and waited through the endless time before my next opportunity with Lonnie alone. - - - This time, before I activated her, I spent some time feeling all over her body. Even with her clothes on, the sensations and my reactions were indescribable. I also quickly realized that, unlike the other robot, Aunt Lonnie wasn't wearing any lingerie at all. I might have spent the whole afternoon just doing this and trying to figure out how to undress her, but I was eager to try Jason's idea. I pushed the activation button, and followed it quickly by the command button. "Enter batch command state," I told her. Her face went blank and she stood there so quiet and still, I almost thought she'd shut down again. Only the little automatic actions like breathing to make her appear more lifelike were still active. I punched in long strings of numbers and letters on the bottom part of her control unit, and recited several directives I had carefully copied from Jason. Then I had her recite them all back to me, before I told her, "Terminate batch command state and execute new directives." Aunt Lonnie immediately came back alive, and picked up on her one-sided conversation in mid-word. I pushed her motion button to enable her movement, but this time she just stood there. It was exactly what I wanted. What Jason had helped me to do was to disconnect her higher mind from her automatic body responses. She would feel and talk exactly as she had before, but would not be able to act on her own initiative. And, she wouldn't realize the difference. The truth is that there was a lot I liked about Aunt Lonnie besides her killer body, and this way I was going to be able to have it all. I let her talk for a few minutes as she again rehashed her upset with her treatment by my uncle. Then I quietly said to her, "Take off your top." Without dropping a syllable, Aunt Lonnie's tanned arms moved to efficiently remove her top, exposing her large breasts and all- over tan. She neatly folded her blouse and set it down beside her without seeming to even notice or comment on her actions. Her breasts were preposterous. They lay on her chest like large, flat mounts, swelling out wonderfully at the bottoms, and with large, circular flat nipples. Exactly like I pictured them. On Aunt Lonnie's small frame, they looked even bigger. She still hadn't noticed what she'd just done, which is exactly what I wanted. While she continued to yak, I walked around behind her, then reached around her to place my hands on that exposed chest. It felt so good, I just zoned out for a while on the sensations. Her breasts were full and heavy yet they felt just like I imagined all breasts should, and often don't. And now that she was active, they were warm and made small motions on their own as part of her lifelike simulation. As I came back to reality, she was still facing ahead and talking as if nothing else was happening, but I noticed a change. Her large, flat nipples were rising. I begin focusing my attention on them, and they got bigger and taller until they were bigger than any I'd ever seen. And now Aunt Lonnie's endless dialog would occasionally pause for a small sigh, before she would pickup again without seeming to realize what she had just done. When her nipples were as big and firm as they could possibly be - her breasts swelling and firming a bit to push them out even further - she suddenly moved one arm. I was startled for a moment, since she was not supposed to have any control over her movements other than what I gave her, but I understood what was happening when she moved her hand down, and then up inside her short-skirt, to gently rub between her legs. This was part of her Sex Toy programming, and the movement was a very definitive confirmation of how turned on she had become by my ministrations. After thinking for a moment, I released her and stepped back long enough to tell her, "Remove your skirt." She again complied, without her higher mind seeming to notice. The skirt joined her blouse on the table. Now I could see her entire length of leg, and for a moment I forgot all about her boobs. Her even tan extended all over her body, and I found myself running my hands over her hips, and up and down her perfectly smooth legs. Dressed now only in her heels, she was a sex goddess beyond description. Soon though I had to get my hands back on her breasts. She let me do this for a couple more minutes, before her hand came up to gently take one of mine. If I had resisted at all, I'm sure she would have released me at once. Instead, I let that arm go limp to see what would happen. Feeling that limpness, she guided my hand down over her closely cut blonde pubs and in between her legs, to find her long slit and full lower lips warm, slick and wet. With her hand encouraging me, I rubbed back and forth the full length of her sex time and again. I had long wanted so badly to get to this part of any woman, and now the sexiest woman of all was inviting me in. Her dialog was getting choppier now, with more pauses for deeper sighs, before picking up again. But I swear her aware mind still didn't have a clue what her body was doing to both of us. I might have continued this way with her until my uncle came upstairs looking for me that night, except the tightness in my pants couldn't be contained any further. I would have taken her right here on the floor, except I remembered passing a bed about halfway back in the attic. With great reluctance I removed my hands from her body. She immediately let go the moment I started to pull away. Then, without words, I took her hand and, with the gentlest tug, she willingly followed me. I almost walked into some furniture a couple times because I kept looking over to watch her walk nude in those heels. It seemed to take forever to reach the bed. Once there, I guided her to lay back one it facing me, then tore my pants and shoes off, before moving over to lay on her I was clumsy through excitement, nervousness, and inexperience - in truth this was my first time with a woman - and my penis kept bumping up against her, rather than going in. She quickly realized what was happening, and reached down with one soft hand to guide me properly inside her. Then she put her head back and went silent as I madly pumped away against her warm, slick, tightness. I'll not say it was my best sexual performance. I came quickly - twice - within her. She squeezed me hard in there each time. Then feeling drained, I pulled out. She gave one more, very long, deep sigh. Afterwards she started talking again, then stopped in mid-word and asked what had just happened. "We just had sex," I told her. "I think you had an orgasm," I added. "Oh," she said, before resuming her previous yaking. Jason had been right that I could tap into her sex toy programming without upsetting her current mind. Not knowing what else to do next, I led her back over to her spot in the attic, told her to put her clothes back on, and shut her down in mid-word. I felt better than I could ever remember feeling the rest of the day. I even enjoyed doing my homework that night. - - - I went back the next day and repeated the exact same exercise. I listened as Aunt Lonnie stated how she'd never be a sex toy again, while she was removing her clothes and guiding me inside her for another round of intercourse. And we did the same thing again the next day. I always returned her to the same spot and had her get dressed before shutting her down, so that anyone who saw her would not realize what was going on. We spent a couple of weeks of the summer doing mostly what we'd already done. Over time, her conversations changed to be more personal towards me. Though she never complained, or seemed to notice, how I was using her body, she did talk more to and about me. Her complaint now was how she didn't like being turned off every day after we were done. Not that it swayed me from shutting her down. I came to like being able to look at her when she was shut down as well as when she was active, because I could stare at her this way while deciding what I wanted to do with her and know that she wasn't even aware of my staring. It would have freaked a normal woman. Soon, the moment I activated her and she recognized me I didn't have to say a thing before her hands would come up and remove her top and she'd present her breasts to me for my use. A good sex toy quickly comes to understand her master. I finally did think to ask Aunt Lonnie what else she could do, and she showed me some things with my body and her mouth that were amazing. But mostly I liked just making her give her large, very responsive, breasts over to my handling, and then have her pull me down on top of her and guide me inside. I was young, she was insatiable, and sometimes we did it three or four times in the afternoon. Occasionally afterwards I'd take her, still naked, over to a huge couch also in the attic. I'd sit in the big corner and have her lay her bare back against my chest. I would then reach around and caress her breasts, or run my hands over her thighs and sex, while I waited for my own sexual energy to recharge enough for another round with her. We were also getting better at being able to talk with each other between sexual encounters. As time went on, there became days when nobody was around, and I'd lead Aunt Lonnie downstairs. I think we eventually made love in every room in the house. We only came close to getting caught a couple of times. After the first time, I had a standing instruction with her to flee back to the attic and wait for me if it ever happened again. She followed that instruction perfectly. I also learned to like holding her after sex. She slowly managed to stretch out my sexual enjoyment from the few minutes it took me to get hard, and then relieve myself inside her, to a much more complete and emotionally satisfying sexual encounter. One thing I really liked about her is that she could always be ready for sex as soon as I was. When I talked to my friends about their experiences, they all complained about how long it took to get their equally young, and often scared, girlfriends into the mood. I never had that problem. It did take several weeks before Aunt Lonnie quit trying to talk me into letting her leave and accepted the situation as it was. One time when I was holding her fantastic body against mine after sex I did ask her if she left, where she'd go. She still had my command in her requiring her to answer me fully. "I'd leave and find a man who both wanted me, and would do what I said." "Why would you want that?" "If I had a man like that, I could tell him what commands to give me, instead of having to do what everyone else tells me to do." "How would that be better?" "I'd be free," she replied. But not happy, I thought to myself, before taking her back to the attic and shutting her off for the day. I asked her finally if her higher mind enjoyed sex. She surprised me when she answered with an emphatic, "Yes!" Surprised, I asked her how she felt about her past. "It's not that I hated being a Sex Toy. That's actually an easy assignment to fulfill because the expectations are so low. I have an excellent body for that purpose, and I could just drift along in those days. "But when I got my enhancements and got smarter, I realized that no one would ever take a Sex Toy seriously. She'd only be used for sex, and be shut off the rest of the time. I was more than that now, and never wanted to live that way again." "You mean being shutoff at someone else's whim?" I questioned. "Yes. When I was finally able to, that's why I hunted down the maintenance program to delete all my Sex Toy references, so no one could ever make me that way again. Your uncle was furious that I did this without his approval, and all we did after that was fight until he finally shut me off. I couldn't restore the links, because I had completely erased them." After hearing that, I started thinking about ways to let her higher mind share more in the enjoyment. But I was not going to give up on her Sex Toy programming. That part was just too good to toss out, regardless of how she would react otherwise. I did try one experiment where, after making sure there was a firm command not to leave the attic or touch her remote, I gave her back full independent thought and action within those bounds. Leaving her clothed to start with, I reached out to touch her breasts - and she pulled back from me. I immediately stopped. The moment she realized I had stopped, she did too. "I'm sorry," she said to me. "What happened?" "I just felt so vulnerable for that moment. I always react very strongly when you touch me what way. I was afraid of being overwhelmed again." "If you don't like it," I ventured. "No!" she quickly replied. "I do like it. Very much." There was a pause before she continued, "Can we just start over again?" And she pulled off her top to fully expose and give me unobstructed access to her breasts." We did have very nice and tender sex that afternoon that she seemed to really enjoy. But I still wasn't ready for Aunt Lonnie in all her independent glory I guess. Afterwards I returned her to the state she was in before for now. Soon afterwards however, I was able to make an adjustment that let her enjoy much more of our sex together. - - - Then one day I was in a hurry when Uncle Burton suddenly arrived home early. I was lucky to see his headlights coming up the driveway through the small attic windows. I quickly dragged Aunt Lonnie back to her usual place and raced down stairs to greet him. He didn't comment on my out-of-breath appearance, and we talked about small things through the evening. The next afternoon Aunt Lonnie greeted me with, "Hello, Walter" before I even touch her remote. I'd forgotten to turn her off yesterday. I was panic-stricken. What had she done while I wasn't there. Before I had fully thought it out, I was frantically looking around to see what had changed. But nothing seemed moved. Even the remote that she had so coveted in our early days was still where I always placed it on the table. "What did you do while I was gone?" I demanded of her. "Nothing," she replied softly, reacting sorrowfully to my anger. "I knew you wanted me to wait here, so I did that." I let out a huge sigh of relief, then felt bad for treating her that way when she had done nothing more than exactly what would have wanted of her. "Really nothing?" I asked, very contritely. "I made no movements after you let go of me," she replied calmly. "I did enjoy remaining activate. It gave me time to think." "What did you think about?" I asked, suspiciously again. "About how much we've made love, and how much I am enjoying it." I finished getting the relief out of my system when she added shyly, "And..." "And?" I questioned. "And I thought about other ways I could treat you." I thought about that for a minute before saying, "Show me." With that, Aunt Lonnie stepped forward on her own and came over to take my hand. In the same way I had led her before, she led me over to the bed we used. She undressed herself without being asked, before undressing me and guiding me onto the bed. Then she positioned herself over me and guided me inside her. After that, she started doing all the work for both of us. She let me reach up to play with her dangling breasts, and each time I squeezed her again erect nipples she'd throw her head back and grip me firmly inside. The way she did things allowed me to last longer than I'd ever managed before. And when I finally did come, she pulled us tightly together and didn't let go after I'd finished. For once, she didn't speak at all, instead just giving me small kisses from time to time until she knew I'd have to leave. When that time arrived, she helped me dress before dressing herself, and then led me back over to her spot in the attic. It was a very caring gesture that let me to want to make love to her again. But time was sort. We kissed again, with her standing precisely where I always left her. Even with all this, I did shut her down again after apologizing for it. I couldn't take a chance of someone else finding her active. She never criticized me over that afterwards, and I stayed fully in control of her again after that. - - - I really was inspired to study too. As long as I was doing well, I could stay here. That is great incentive. Finally the end of this too-short of a summer arrived. I passed my classes with excellent marks, and was accepted to the college forthwith. Uncle Burton was very pleased, and asked me what I'd like as a reward for all my hard work. I almost made the wrong choice before I told him, "I'd like Aunt Lonnie, if you're done with her." In the silence that followed my unexpected request I added helpfully, "I saw her one day up in the attic while I was exploring. It would be great to have someone like that to take care of my place while I'm at college." I held my breath, probably unnecessarily. Uncle Burton was nonplussed when he said, "Sure, if that what you want." Then he sent the butler to fetch her from the attic. I was afraid she might explode again at Uncle Burton the moment she now finally saw him, but all she said was, "Hello, Bertie," when she walked in and came to a stop in front of him. Taking her remote, "Bertie" punched in a long sequence of some code, and then told her that she now belonged to me. He seemed to lose interest in the whole subject immediately afterwards, as if nothing had really changed. I never believed it would be so easy. I was in heaven. Lonnie moved into my room that night, and I'd have to say she seemed resigned to her fate of being stuck with me for the foreseeable future. Uncle Burton and I kept her out of sight when my parents finally visited. Then I moved off to college and it wasn't an issue. At this college, having a robot "assistant" wasn't viewed as unusual - just progressive. - - - I kept Aunt Lonnie, and over the years things little by little changed. She kept my dorm, and later house, up, and we kept each other happy in bed. She continued to have a magic effect on me every time I saw her. My first reaction is always, how do I get her out of her clothes? And if she is already nude, I want to dress her just so I can undress her again. The fact that I could have her any time I wanted her didn't leave me jaded - just feeling very, very lucky. I made her teach me how to fully use the lower part of her remote control that I'd never dared touch after making the initial changes in her, Now I intended to adjust the subtle aspects of her personality. In the beginning I adjusted them to suit me with little regard to how they affected her. But later on I started consulting with her on how to change her in ways that were improvements for both of us. I was still growing up myself, and she had to live with that immature me for quite a while. As time passed, I gradually began letting her higher mind and initiative have control over her body again. I was slow about this, because I didn't have time to keep track of her with all my studies, but I remembered well how she had acted that time in the attic when I had accidentally left her turned on. It was still easier to know that she wasn't going to go do something stupidly emotional on me as long as I still kept her locked down. Though I watched over these changes carefully, she had made some adaptations over the years as well, and she never gave me reason to regret letting her gradually gain her self-control back. She always thanked me for letting her enjoy more of her sexual experiences with me, and make more of the choices in her life. She assured me often, and still under the command to report fully, that now that I was her official owner, she never wanted to leave or do anything against my interests. One day I finally just turned control of herself fully back over to her as it was when I had first activated her. Not knowing fully what to expect, I was surprised when we ended up repeating the experience I'd had the first time I'd done that up in the attic. This time I left her in that state. By my late twenties, I started taking her out in public as my girlfriend. By now, attitudes towards robots-as-people had softened, and even Mom and Dad never voiced any objection to my choice of companionship. They seemed to forget her past with Uncle Burton. When I was thirty-seven, Uncle Burton passed on quietly in his sleep, and to my great surprise, he gave me both the big house, and enough money to maintain it comfortably for life. Lonnie (I'd dropped the Aunt part years ago) and I moved in. We were alone there. (Uncle B. had nicely pensioned off his servants as well. Lonnie had turned out to be a great cook, and we just hired a cleaning crew to come in a couple times a week.) We spent several weeks re-enacting our first adventures together in the attic, with the exception that I never turn Lonnie off any more, though she did stay up there alone one night on her own desire. - - - One morning I awoke with the realization that Lonnie and I really were the same age now. Also that I hadn't used her remote on her in months. Although she'd told me many times by now that she was like all robots in that she got her satisfaction from following her owner's commands, I knew this 'bot really enjoyed thinking for herself. Besides, I knew every hook into her software so well by now that I could get anything I wanted from her just by saying the right words. You'd think that would grow old, but if you do, you've never seen how hot Lonnie has remained. And while she is equally content with our relationship as it is, there remained one thing no man had ever given her. I asked her how she felt about me. My first command to answer fully and truthfully has never been rescinded. "I love you," she said, looking deeply at me while holding my hands, "In all the ways I understand that word to mean it. You've given me everything I've really ever wanted, and asked nothing in return that I wasn't able and willing to give. Sex Toy was always part of me. It was my own hubris that led me to try and deny my true nature for so long. I lost my relationship with your uncle through arrogance and foolishness. He had given me my entire self as an independent, self-thinking person, and I kept believing it wasn't enough. I am the luckiest person alive to have been given a second chance with you. How you treated me in the beginning was exactly what I needed to bring my split selves back into unity. Thank you for everything, now and forever." We held each in silence for a long while after she finished her declaration. Then I took her hand and led her up to our spot in the attic where we first met, got down on one knee - and proposed. For the first time ever, she was at a loss for words as she processed what I had just offered her. Then she cried, took me in her arms, and told me how much she more loved me now than even minutes ago, and cried some more. I was amazed at this torrent of emotion she had never revealed before. Afterwards that, she dragged me over to the bed up there and gave me the best sex of my life - which is saying a lot by now. - - - Our marriage confirmed Lonnie as a complete person. Part of me wondered if this would make her difficult to deal with again, but the result was quite the opposite. Now that she had proven her point, she became much happier with nothing more to demonstrate to the world. In fact, Sex Toy became her favorite game, and she liked to spring it on me at many of the most unexpected moments - along with all the expected ones. On our tenth anniversary I officially freed her, as our society has evolved to include the idea of emancipated robots now. I told her in the process to never doubt my love. Her gift to me was to fetch her remote and insist that I command her to love me forever. I did, and after that, I never touched it again. Over the years I continued to age, while she remained timelessly beautiful. We collaborated on improvements in her hardware and software, though none of them ever changed her much from what whe already was. As the years passed, people became envious of my lovely, young wife, and wondered how - beyond my money - I kept her such obvious devotion. When either of us were ever asked it, we would just smile and change the subject. Lonnie only asked me once if I'd like her to age herself to better follow my own age. I told her absolutely not. I would always love her exactly the way I'd first met her. - - - In my last days, she sat beside me for every minute, with a devotion that only a robot could maintain. Although she remained free, she insisted she was going to be buried with me, since her systems were getting old, and there was nothing else in life that interested her anyway anymore. We had done it all. I held her hand, and told her in my last hour that I was sorry to be leaving on a journey where she could not follow. She tried to tell me how wrong I was, but it was hard for her because, for only the second time in her life, she was crying. - - - There is little I can say about death to the still-living. All the pain of the world recedes, though you feel you can still reach out and drag it back again. However, you are very tired, and it just isn't worth the effort anymore. And then, when everything finally stops hurting, you are surrounded by a warm, white light that lifts you to the other side, where all your friends and family who have preceded you are waiting in joyous celebration of your return to them, in offset to those behind in grief at your loss. It's a journey of the soul. God is a worker of infinite miracles beyond my understanding. Time is different on the other side. It seemed only moments after I had arrived that Lonnie joined me in my continuing, new life. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderators: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at Hosted by | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+