Message-ID: <46849asstr$1077603003@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Message-ID: <000f01c3fa7f$47df1a20$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: Mon, 23 Feb 2004 19:38:25 -0700 Subject: {ASSM} ASFR: (Revised) Jungle Bunny {DB_Story} (M/Fembot, cons, rom, ScFi, 1st, interr, asfr) Lines: 1357 Date: Tue, 24 Feb 2004 01:10:03 -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: hecate, hoisingr JUNGLE BUNNY By DB ( DB_Story@att.net / http://home.att.net/files/Authors/db_story/www/ ) Copyrightc 2002-2004 by DB. ASSM/ASFR (M/Fembot, cons, rom, ScFi, 1st, interr, 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. - - - I work as an independent contractor for a top tier technology company. You'd know the name if you heard it. That has advantages and disadvantages. The money is excellent. Far more than I'd make as an employee here, even when you consider I have to buy my own health insurance and pay both halves of my FICA. I get some deductions the regular folks will never see, and I set my own hours. Best of all - no meetings, and no performance reviews. Technically I don't even have a boss. If I did, I'd be reclassified as an employee and everybody would be unhappy. On the downside there's no job security, and in some weird ways the company seems determined to treat contractors as less than human. For instance, I'm forbidden from using both the company gym, and the company library. I've never been given a good reason why. I am allowed to eat in the company subsidized cafeteria however. And I have to be extra careful to stay out of all the restricted areas. Why I'm considered a bigger risk to the company than an employee taking home a third of what they're paying me makes no sense. This job is worth far more than any corporate secrets I might discover. Generally I'm allowed into any area my badge will open, so I use that as my list of what's allowed and what's not. There used to be TV cameras all over hidden in the ceilings to make sure nobody misbehaved. I was told that there were so many complaints during that time that they were all pulled out, except for the visible ones over the entrances and exits. I confess I haven't climbed up to check any of the still remaining dark glass globes to see for myself, but I do get on well with the security people because, unlike regular employees, I have to sign in and out every day. I know the guards better than the W-2's do. These guards are the ones who have confirmed to me that the inside surveillance is gone, except for a couple very special cases, and I'll take them at their word. My home is cubicle land. At least that's what I call it. It seems so much like something out of Dilbert that I can't think of it any other way. The huge, rectangular second floor is wall-to- wall partitions, twenty-foot ceilings, and rows and aisles, supporting hundreds of employees. It would make for a great maze if someone had displayed a little more imagination, but all we have is a regular grid pattern of rows and aisles. This room is directly above the manufacturing floor, and is so large it takes me better part of five minutes to walk its perimeter. Someone was smart enough to stencil coordinates high up on the supporting columns, and the first thing you learn is that everyone gives directions from the nearest column. After awhile the system becomes natural - which is a pretty unnatural occurrence. Built into the long sides of the building are several pairs of restrooms, multiple break rooms, a copy center, library, stairs, freight elevator, and the restricted labs with their own automatic doors. I can see into these labs since the doors are glass, but I don't even try my badge on these doors. I know the system logs all failed authentications and I don't want to have to explain why I thought my job involved a trip into the chemistry lab, or any other. Because I set my own hours, I prefer to start late and end later. I don't have to get up early this way, and miss the traffic both directions. This much is allowed of me. And after hours I'm allowed to use some of the neat adult toys - expensive scanners and large format printers - that I'll never own at home. Since my social life is nil at the moment, leaving late doesn't eat into any dating scenarios. As such, I see things the regular employees miss, like the cleaning crews. My favorite secret joke is watching the cleaning crews empty the locked wastebaskets we are all supposed to use for confidential company materials. After being warned about being careful with company information my first week, I quickly got into the habit of throwing everything except used Kleenex into them. This is easy to do since I'm low man on the totem pole to every employee and so the nearest bin was put in my cube. I can't complain about that, or a few other things that they get away with storing in my space. As I said, that's how contractors are treated. Imagine my amusement the first time I stayed late and watched the cleaning crew carefully open each locked bin, and then dump it in with all the rest of the trash in the same big dumpster they roll around every night. Same with the little recycle trashcans we all have. No I didn't tell anybody about it. That's not part of my job. My one habit that could get me in trouble is that I like to wander. In the afternoons and evenings, when I have a long compile and load in progress, I'll get up and walk. That's how I know how long it takes to walk around our floor. I've timed it more than once. One particular task takes three laps to complete. I have an excellent map in my head of the restricted rows and aisles to stay clear of, and I could absolutely care less about any company secrets. I just like to walk. Some people will naturally find that suspicious. To avoid as much scrutiny as possible, I vary my routes so that no one sees too much of me over any short period of time. This afternoon my route took me down the near side past the chemistry lab. This is one of the most restricted areas of all, and even most normal employees aren't allowed inside. You have to wear special lab coats for protection, and there are several unpleasant warning signs on the doors cautioning of bad things inside. That's all fine since it's not my problem. I noticed that the sliding doors were ajar by several inches. They'd been having troubles with them for the last couple of days and I remembered seeing the cleaning crew needing to prop them open last night to do their job. You'd think a big powerful company like this would have these things fixed in an hour. But so far two days had passed with no change. Maybe they were waiting for the necessary part to arrive. Or maybe they were just being lazy about it. It wouldn't be the first time I'd noticed that things often took a couple weeks to get fixed properly. I glanced in through the window and almost stumbled as my feet got caught between the choice of stopping to get a better look at what I thought I just saw in there, and keeping moving because I am not supposed to be looking in there at all - glass or no glass. In the end I made three different loops around different cubicle blocks to go back past the lab doors three more times as slowly as I could make my slow walk and shortened steps take me. I was almost moonwalking to make my motion look like more than it really was. And I was right in what I had seen. A dark-skinned nude female figure lay on a wheeled table to one side of the otherwise unoccupied lab. - - - I call it the chemistry lab, which it is. It's not a mad scientist's laboratory. The work done here is research into new inks for printing. Nothing clandestine, just normal industrial secrets. To say that what I saw intrigued me greatly understates my curiosity. I couldn't do a thing about it however. At least not now. I had no doubt that getting caught in there would result in instant termination, and that's not worth it no matter how good she looked. All I could do is wait until the evening. I knew the building would be pretty much empty by six-thirty. Then, possibly, get myself another look. Needless to say, I was less productive than usual the rest of the afternoon, which passed with the speed of molasses in the winter. I don't take headcounts of people remaining because normally I don't care. Tonight I did. Even though my expedition would only take five minutes tops to see what I could see, I didn't want to be disturbed during it. I think of the building as being empty at six-thirty, but was amazed how many people seemed to be remaining past that time tonight. In fact, it wasn't until 7:45 that things finally seemed to quiet down. This limited my window of opportunity significantly, because the cleaning crew would be starting their rounds soon. They always seemed to get to my area by nine, and my cube is pretty much in the middle of the expanse. Finally I was ready to make my move. If someone saw me now, that sighting alone wouldn't be a problem. I've often worked later then this, and would have no problem explaining these hours tonight if asked. I just couldn't be caught in the wrong area. Like a human trying to imitate a cat I quietly moved through the well-known aisles to bring me closest to the lab entrance without exposing myself to the long wide corridor running in front of it. I wanted to minimize my time where anyone from either end of the building could see me. Like a cat I kept my ears perked, and virtual whiskers, out for any rustle of movement. I felt certain I had eyes on me from every direction and that I must have looked as guilty as sin, but in truth nobody was there to see me. My heart was racing as I stood just inside the closest entrance to the long corridor. After waiting what seemed an endless time to triple check that everything was clear, I finally stepped out and walked nonchalantly over to the door. The sliding doors were stuck nearly four feet open. They'd turned the lights down for night, which means only about every sixth fixture was on, and only one tube in each of those. That's still plenty of light to see by. I saw the figure over in the corner. Someone had pushed her further out of the way and thrown a sheet over her. I could only see her head, and even that was in the shadows. I glanced around. Nobody was in view. Nobody had been in view for the last several minutes. Nobody was likely to be in view for the next half-hour. Besides, it was darker in there than out here. Even if someone came by, chances were excellent they'd never notice me. I checked the ceiling for evidence of cameras and saw none. I weighed the odds and then quickly stepped inside. - - - Once I committed I didn't waste any time. I moved quickly, yet quietly, to the table. I planed to lift the sheet, get one good look, and then get out again. She lay there, sheet up to her neck and eyes closed, as if sleeping. Her lustrous black hair was straight, but kinky. What some might call nappy. It went well with her rich chocolate skin. Her facial features were proper African to match her hair and skin, with prominent cheekbones and flawless complexion. It was a beautiful, unexpected, face for a fembot - which is what she had to be. It pleased me to see that someone had finally realized that beauty comes in many forms, and that all fembots aren't stamped from a single mold - not that I am an expert on the variety of fembots. They are expensive machines, beyond the reach of most individuals such as myself. I'd sooner have blown money on an unnecessarily fast and expensive car as considered a fembot purchase. The sheet covered the rest of her body. It had a couple nice bumps in the right places, but didn't show much. I knew I was going to pick it up in a moment and take a good look for a Texas minute, while letting my ears do the work of warning me of any approaching danger. I took hold of one side and started to lift. As I did I brushed against her hand lying just off the edge of the table. To my surprise it was a warm and soft as any human hand I've ever encountered. (Okay, I've never touched a fembot before. Just seen them in pictures and showroom windows. I was still startled.) I was so startled - I guess I had expected it to be cold and plastic - that I dropped the sheet. As I fumbled for the edge I encountered her hand again. This time to my horror, her eyes popped open, she lifted her head and asked, "Are you ready for me to go to work now?" I jumped. I admit it. I jumped big time. I didn't know she was turned on. For that moment I was the classic kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "No. No," I quickly stuttered out. "No, we're not ready for you yet. You should go back the way you, uh, were." "Okay," she said with a very human tone of resignation. "But I don't know why you bothered to turn me on if you aren't planning to use me." In my mind's eye I had this cartoon view of already being halfway out of the lab and still accelerating while my feet still stood by the table waiting to catch up. But part of me felt I ought to at least be polite enough to answer her properly, rather then run away first. I've always been that way with women, not that any seem to appreciate it very much. The habit, however, remains ingrained. Besides, I've been intensely curious about fembots ever since I'd heard about the first realistic models years ago. I've just never been willing to do the necessary lying to be able to get myself into a showroom to see one up close. I knew I couldn't afford one, until recently that is, and as such the showrooms aren't interested in my business. They still have a rare, expensive commodity, and are pretty picky about whom they let in. "I didn't realize I had turned you on," I replied. I thought that required a control box. "You're right," she said, now looking directly at me. "I didn't mean that you had turned me on. I was speaking about the man earlier who activated me, then just left me here with no further commands." In spite of my fears of discovery, this was fascinating. I'd never realized that you could just talk to a 'bot this way. 'Bots were the current rage on all the sitcoms this season, but all of them are jerky and mechanical, and always getting things wrong because they literally go and do exactly what you tell them. Even though human actors play these 'bots and pretend that you can't tell them apart from regular people, you always knew who was a 'bot and who wasn't. It was a joke that was funny twice, and not any more than that as far as I was concerned. "He just left you here?" I asked. "That doesn't make sense." "Actually," she said in a warm contralto voice I was finding very appealing, "He told me to lie down on this table and turn myself back off." "Didn't you do that?" "I can't. Turning me off requires my control box, and I'm not allowed to use it. But he didn't want to hear that, so I came over and pretended to be turned off to make him happy." "And did it?" "I guess so. At least as happy as he is ever going to be with me I'm afraid." Intriguing as this all was, I knew I should have been out of here before now. "And then you touched my hand," she continued in a friendly talkative way, "And I thought someone finally wanted me." "I really have to go," I told her as gently as I could. "Oh," her face fell. I'm amazed at how real - human - her reactions are. "I'm sorry," I said. "It's okay. It was just nice to have someone to talk to." I felt like a heel. To a 'bot, no less. "I'd like to talk to you more," I told her truthfully, "But I'm really not even supposed to be in here." I kicked myself as I said that, wondering if she would now have to report me. But instead her face brightened as she realized that I wasn't rejecting her personally. "Maybe there is there some place else we can talk" she said with the simplicity of a child - and the logic of a genius. Such an innocent comment, thrown into such a complicated situation. "Well, there's a conference room at the end of the hall," I said before I could think of a good reason not to. "But we'd have to wait until later when no one else would see us." She seemed to accept that caveat at face value. "How much later?" I thought for a moment. The cleaners do the conference room first, and then work their way this direction. "At least an hour," I said. "You'd have to wait until the cleaners are done with this half of the building. They'll come through here on their way by." That was probably not strictly true. The cleaners probably wouldn't care about anything unusual any more than I let myself. But I was absolutely not going to take any chances. "Okay," she said with a smile. "I'll talk to you more after that." With those words she lay back down on the table and closed her eyes again, looking exactly like I'd found her. I stood there feeling I should say something more, but there seemed nothing more to say. I realized the longer I took here, the more I risked discovery. With one last look at her I quietly bolted for the doors. I didn't start to feel safe until I was three full rows deep back in cubicle land. I wasn't sure what had just happened, or what I had agreed to do. I went back to my desk confused. I decided to work some more on my project and maybe my mind would sort things out. I actually got back into the graphic I was preparing, and soon my concentration returned and I forgot the outside world. - - - About forty-five minutes later I leaned back to take a break and rest my eyes when my phone suddenly rang. It was her voice on the other end. "Hello, Sam. The janitors have finished in here. Are you ready to go and talk some more?" "How did you know my name?" I asked dumbly. "Your name badge, of course." "But how did you get my phone extension?" I continued, showing how dumb I really can be when dealing with an attractive woman. "The company telephone list, silly," she answered, making far more sense than I was at that moment. "You're still going to meet me, aren't you?" she added wistfully, in the manner of someone who has been disappointed a lot lately. I'm sure a real woman would have already hung up on me by now, given how lame I was acting towards her. "Uh...yes," I finally replied. "Great!" she squealed in excitement, and I immediately looked around to see if anyone else had heard. "Keep it down," I cautioned quickly. "Okay," she said softly. There was a pause. I think each of us was waiting for the other to speak. Finally she said, "Where do I meet you?" I was tempted to come get her. But that would be hard to explain to anyone we did meet, unlikely as that might be this late. Better to meet inside the conference room. "Here's what you do," I told her. "Come out of the lab and turn right in the corridor. Go straight to just before the end. It's the last door on your right. It says 'Conference Room' on the plaque beside the door. Can you do that?" Again I'm sure real woman would have been insulted by the insinuation that she couldn't follow simple instructions. This woman wasn't. "I'll be there in three minutes," she said, followed by a click. "Be sure you have some clothes on," I added frantically into the dead phone. I grabbed at my phone list to find the lab number, but quickly realized the futility of it. She'd either come as she was, or know enough to not be so indiscreet. Either way, she was on the way and I couldn't change it now. I decided to give her time to get there first. If she attracted any attention, I just wouldn't show. And if she attracted attention and mentioned my name...I don't know what I'd do then. She was short enough to not show over the cubicle walls. I'm tall enough to easily look over myself, which is normally an advantage. Not tonight though. I gave her those three minutes, and then three more, before I furtively made my way to the room too. I couldn't hear a sound in the building now, except for the soft sounds of the air conditioning system, and maybe the sound of the conference room door shutting ahead of me. When I reached the door I hesitated before opening it. I made sure I had an excuse for being there already loaded and ready to fire to save me if I didn't find what I expected inside. I sure didn't want to fumble around for some lame explanation at the last moment. Then I opened the door and walked in. Despite my fears, the only thing in there besides the chairs and tables was a barefoot figure with her back to me looking out the big windows on the far side into the night. She was wearing a white lab coat she must have found that came down a little below her knees. It was by far the best choice of an outfit she could have possibly made. She heard me enter, turned, and with a smile on her face and joy in her voice said, "You came!" as she quickly moved over to me. She came right up and put her arms around me, giving me a big kiss, after pulling me down to match her height. In reflex I took her into my arms stiffly in return, but it was not my best hug. I soon broke us apart saying, "Let me insure our privacy." I walked back over and twisted the lock on the conference room door. There is no way to see into this room from that side. When I turned back she was still there waiting for me. For the first time I actually got a good look at her. At least as good as the loose lab coat permitted. As I observed already, she is an attractive dark-skinned woman who seems atypical for a fembot. In a way it made sense though. When you look at her your first thought is not of a fembot, which is probably the idea. That makes her all the more interesting. Aside from her face, all I could really see is that her hands are attractively well manicured, and so are her feet. I could hardly ask her to take her coat off for me, so that left little more to go on. She seemed - chunkier - then the slender supermodel or busty exotic dancer types I've seen before. The first glimpses I'd caught of her this afternoon seemed to give her a very womanly figure, but those had been so fleeting I still wasn't exactly sure what I'd seen. While I was sorting this out she was waiting for me to get on with it. Finally she asked, "Are we going to talk?" "Uh...sure," I replied. "What would you like to talk about?" "I'll let you choose," she said sweetly, after furrowing her brow for a moment in obvious thought. "You have much more experience in conversations than I do." Except I didn't have any ideas either. Casting frantically about I finally came up with, "Why don't you tell me what has happened to you here so far?" What ever she lacked in conversational confidence she made up for in interpersonal skills. She pulled out a couple chairs and took my hand to lead me to one before taking the other herself. She then crossed her legs easily at the knees and told me her tale. - - - "This is my very first assignment, so all that I remember has happened here in the past few hours. I was activated and prepared by my programming to be a lab assistant. But now I think they don't want me." "Why?" I asked. "Just as I was turned on, before they even initialized me, the lab manager came over. He took one look at me and said, 'I can't imagine what those people are thinking. I won't have a Jungle Bunny working in my department.' Then he told me to go lie down over there and shut myself off. I did my best to obey, but I heard them arguing over me afterwards." "What were they saying?" "Despite my acute hearing, most of it was too far away to understand. But at one point several of them came over to me and he said to 'cover it up while I figure out how to return it.' They put a sheet over me and left me alone until you came in and touched me." Then she looked at me with her big beautiful clear brown eyes and innocently asked, "What is a 'jungle bunny'?" I had to think for a moment on that one. Not because I didn't know the answer. Instead because I was about to introduce an obvious innocent to dark side of human nature. "Jungle Bunny," I finally told her, "Is an ugly, unpleasant term for a person with your lovely features and skin color. It is unfair, inaccurate, and would never be used in that sense by anyone who actually knew you and liked you." She thought that over carefully, giving me some time to think as well. I am still amazed at how lifelike and personable she is. Finally she announced, making her own decision in this matter, "I will not like him either then. But," she added, looking so directly at me that I felt she was addressing my soul, "I like you a lot." I smiled and reached over to squeeze her hand. Then she asked me another innocent question. "Why did you come in to see me?" I couldn't think of a good story so I told her the truth. "I had seen you earlier, and wanted to get a closer look. I didn't realize what had happened with you." "Well I'm glad you did," she said warmly, "Or I'd still be lying there." "I'm glad I did too," I replied equally warmly in return. Her smile told me she understood human voice tones just fine. Then she asked about the world outside this building and I started telling her about San Diego. She seemed fascinated by this world she had yet to experience and made the best possible audience. Hanging on every word, asking small questions to move things along, she really seemed thirsty to experience the world at large - even secondhand. One couldn't have hoped for a better audience. Finally we arrived at one of those awkward pauses when neither of us knew what to say next. Then we both tried to speak at once. "What else would you like to talk about?" I asked. "Would you like to do anything more with me?" she asked. We both laughed, although mine was a bit strained. What I'd like to do with her I couldn't ask. That brought another pause, which she broke by saying, "Well there is something I'd like to do, at least once." With that she stood up, moved away a several steps - and then took off her lab coat. She was again totally nude, and seemingly completely unconcerned about it. - - - My first reaction was that this is exactly what I had wanted to see from the beginning. My second was, is someone about to catch us at this? My third was, do I get to touch her too? My fourth was, can I walk closer to her without scaring her off. These reactions all took about a second. The realization I hadn't come to yet was in wondering how she was managing to do all this on her own. It was my own inexperience with fembots that kept me from questioning this. She made it seem so natural that the question didn't even come to mind. She was just being herself I was finally getting to see her entire naked body up close. Something I had been dying to do ever since getting that brief glimpse of her through the lab door those many hours ago. She seemed short, probably around five-six. And if anything, I would have called her little bit dumpy. The fembots you see in the pictures are always lean and sleek. Long tanned legs in high spike heels, tight bodies, classic faces, and large weightless boobs. On a first impression this 'bot seemed none of those things. Her figure was generous, with wide hips and sturdy legs. She looked to be a size twelve, created in a world enamored with size twos. Her breasts were large, yes, but hung heavily - naturally - on her chest, with large darker nipples well situated on them. What I could see of her backside was a tad generous as well. Though no part of her was extreme she seemed, if anything, a fembot who had gained an extra thirty pounds somewhere along the way, most of it in all the right places. Her other noticeable features were a properly placed naval, a control box hanging on a slender cord between her breasts that had been out of sight earlier, and a large patch of lush black pubic hair covering her between her legs. You'd think these imperfections would make her less attractive, but they actually made her more so. Rather than some artificial idea of feminine perfection, she looks real. And with a smile and personality that I would have never expected, she's a winner. I couldn't believe how anyone in the lab would have rejected her for any reason at all. Not when the other choice would be to work alongside her every day. I rose to my feet without thinking as she started to walk towards me. As she moved, her body swayed. Her hips swayed. Her breasts swayed. And she tossed her head just enough that he hair swayed. There was not part of this woman not in motion. When she reached me, without thinking I reached out for her control box. Her response was another surprise. Her hand came up and softly brushed mine away, while saying in a sultry, husky voice, "You won't need that to get what we both want out of me." Her touch was gentle. I could have easily overridden it and taken control of her if I had wished. She stopped, waiting to see what I would do. I looked down into those beautiful eyes and saw - something - that made me not want to do that just now. At this magic moment we were in a relationship of equals, strange as that might sound. We were dealing with each other as free adults. She had asked for my company and conversation, come on her own to meet me, and was now offering herself to me of her own apparent choice. Thinking about it as we stood in our tableau, I was smart enough for once to realize that there was no way I could do anything to improve on this. So instead of pushing her hand back and taking possession of her control box, I slid my hand up and placed it behind her soft warm neck, pulling her gently in for a kiss on those rich tender lips. She must have liked my response since she immediately flowed up to me and pressed herself firmly up against me. What followed was kind of confused and run together. - - - That first kiss was followed by several more of increasing intensity. One or both of us got my clothes off and soon her hot body was pressed up tightly against my bare flesh. She encouraged me to handle her heavy breasts, her body stiffening in pleasure every time I gently mauled her large, willing nipples. Before we were done her hands had roamed over and touched every part of my body, as I did the same to hers. Whether I pushed, or she pulled, somehow we were both down on the floor. I had myself inside her pumping mightily as she cushioned me on her own lush body from the far too thin carpet. Only once did I have to caution her to "hold it down" lest we be discovered. Lowering her moans and sighs in no way lowered her ardor. I easily came inside her. It was all mixed impressions of warm, wet, soft, slick, and tightness. She clenched me both inside her, and wrapped her powerful arms and legs around me at the same moment as we strained against each other. I knew for once here was a woman I could take as hard as I wished with no worries about it being too much for her to handle. - - - Afterwards she held my full weight on her own soft, strong body. I might have lain there all night - she was certainly willing to let me do so - when it suddenly hit me to check the time. It was well after ten! I'd never been here this late before. "I've got to go," I told her hurriedly as I started getting my clothes back on. "And you've got to get back as well." She seemed in less of a hurry to dress than I was. Of course, she had less to put on then I did, and less to worry about as well. She doesn't have to make a living the way I do. "Thank you," she said to me while she waited for me to finish. "That was wonderful." Wonderful, I thought to myself. What is she talking about? I got all the 'wonderful' here. "I'm the one who ought to be saying thank you," I replied frankly. "No, really," she said, suddenly serious. "Thank you for the opportunity to do this once." "This was your first time?" I asked, struggling with my pants. "Yes," she replied regretfully. "And my last." I stopped struggling for a moment and looked at her. Her face was completely somber. "Why? I'd do it again with you in a moment. Any lucky guy would." She half-smiled at that, and took a small step towards me. "After a few minutes to recover," I amended hastily. Then she answered my previous question. "When they initialize me to my lab assistant duties, the rest of my standard programming will be permanently disabled." "Including...uh...sex?" "Yes." I started to ask her why, but I already knew why. Lab assistants aren't supposed to have sex, or conversations, or whatever. No thoughts of their own. No distractions in the workplace. But there was nothing I could do about that. It looked like our first night was also going to be our last. It least it was a heck of a night. I pulled my pants the rest of the way and went over to hug her. She returned my hug so fully that soon I had my hand inside the lab coat fondling her sexy breasts again. She leaned against me, placing her head on my shoulder and closing her eyes, making it perfectly clear that I could continue this for as long as I wished with nary a complaint from her. I wanted it a long time, and knew I didn't have it. A minute later I stopped. She opened her eyes and straightened up again. "I really do have to go now, or we could both be in trouble," I told her half-truthfully. She agreed silently by stepping away and letting me finish dressing. Then I carefully opened the door and peaked out. The coast was clear. Heck, the building was probably completely deserted, except for the occasional guard making rounds. We made a quick hushed walk down the corridor back to the chem lab. At the door there was only time for another quick hug and kiss, before I was half pushing her through it. A sudden thought struck and I called after her, "I don't even know your name." "Call me JB," she replied, as the lab door jerkily closed between us. - - - The harsh light of the next day made last night seem unreal. After I got to work I tried going past the lab a couple times to surreptitiously look in, but there were several people working there and I couldn't stay. None of them however looked like her. Nor was she, or the table she'd been on, in view. With no way to contact her without drawing unacceptable attention to myself I tried to finish my task. My concentration was decidedly lacking. Then, near two-thirty, my phone rang. It was JB. "Everyone's on break," she said quickly in a hushed voice. "What's happening?" I whispered back, not wanting to waste words. "Too much to tell now," she replied hastily. "Can you meet me in the conference room same time tonight?" "I'll be there." - - - Actually I arrived first this time. I wanted to make sure the room was clear of any problems. And frankly I was too antsy to sit in my cubicle any longer. After what seemed forever - although the wall clock confirmed that my wristwatch had not stopped - JB slipped through the door, locking it behind her. Like longtime devoted lovers we rushed into each other's arms for a long clinch. I could swear that she was actually shaking. At length we broke apart and sat down together knee-to-knee holding hands, to talk. JB told me what had happened in the lab that day. Apparently much debate swirled around her as she lay in her simulation of a deactivated state. It was amazing how much controversy she caused just lying there. "And in the end," she said, wrapping up her story, "Even though everyone else wants to keep me and put me to work, our manager insists that I be shipped to the Singapore division. 'They'll know what to do with her kind,' he told the rest of them." "And no one could sway him?" I asked, amazed that such a dinosaur would still be allowed to run a department. "Apparently not. They're going to prepare me for shipping tomorrow." "Not wasting any time, I see." "No," she replied, then fell silent. I had hoped that JB would be kept, and that somehow we could keep our relationship going. Farfetched, certainly. But it didn't seem any more unreasonable than all the rest of what had happened in the last day and a half. And that brought me to the question that had been gnawing at me since yesterday, once I'd thought about our encounter. "How do you do it?" I asked. "What do you mean?" she asked back, showing surprise at the change in direction of our conversation. "How do you manage to walk out of the lab, meet me here, hold a great conversation, and then make fantastic love without me giving you a single command. You said you weren't even initialized yet. But you seem to be making your own choices here. Looking out for your own welfare." "I don't know," she replied, breaking her gaze and looking down at her feet. "I just do it." She stopped talking and seemed to think hard on it, before adding, "Maybe it is because I haven't been initialized. I'm supposed to do the defined job. I have programming specific to that task. But it hasn't been activated, so my general programming is still running. But that programming is not complete either, because I was never supposed to actually run on it. There is enough to get me up and operating in the general sense, but I'm kind of making up the rest for myself as I go along." "Do you like doing that?" I asked, intrigued by her ability to understand herself that well, all things considered. Again she seemed to think hard before eventually giving the simple answer of, "Yes. I do." "Is that why you won't let me touch your remote?" I wondered, as much to myself as to her. "Maybe," she replied. Followed by, "I don't really know. I know you wouldn't hurt me intentionally. It's just..." there was a long pause. "Just that," she finally continued, "I want to be of service. That's part of any 'bot. And I felt I could do it better on my own." "Were you afraid I would stop you?" Like that was going to happen. "Maybe, a little. I was so much enjoying meeting you I didn't want anything to end it. I'm sorry," she added in her wistful voice. I was about to explore this amazing topic further with her when she sadly added, "This will all end for me anyway when they ship me to Singapore." "Why?" I blurted out. "They'll have to reprogram me for my tasks there. Even if I was to do the same thing, they'd still have to change my language skills, which means a full reprogramming. I'm sure when I wake up there I will be exactly what I was supposed to be from the beginning." "Will you remember this - and me?" I asked. "No," she replied in a way that made us both sad. "You'll have to remember it all for both of us." I couldn't think of anything more to say after that. Apparently neither could she. I rose from my seat and lifted her hands to bring her to her feet with me. I kissed her tenderly, then removed her lab coat with her tacit consent. She helped undress me and our lovemaking that followed was nothing like the night before. It was slow and tender, with lots of kissing from her lips to her neck and ears, down to her breasts and nipples, and back up to her lips again. When I was finally ready, she put her hand down and guided me inside her in the most welcoming gesture a woman can make to a man. I don't blame her for wanting to try out her sexual skills. Afterwards I wanted to cry. Not because it was bad. Because it was so good, and was our last time. I think she would have cried herself, if a 'bot could. I stayed late with her. To hell with what the guards would think. We held each other and talked softly about small things, and I told her what a very special, unique person she was to me. We finally walked back to the lab only because there seemed nothing more to say. Our final kiss was soft and tender. "Keep me informed of what's happening," I said as the doors closed between us again. - - - My sleep that night was fitful at best. I dreamed of somehow rescuing her in many different ways, some of them downright bizarre. I was hardly rested at all come morning. It was on the drive in where I had my epiphany that laid out a real rescue plan in mind-boggling detail. I had to pull over to the side of the freeway and stop for a couple minutes to sort it all out before I could safely resume driving. If everything came together perfectly it might even work. - - - It was agony waiting for her to call. Wondering if she even would be able to call. All it took was someone to really shut her down and this would all fail. I needed her help to pull it off. I took lunch at my desk so as not to not miss any attempts. She got through to me at one-fifteen. "What's the situation?" I asked quickly. "They plan to ship me out today. They've already sent for my shipping crate from storage." "Is it there yet?" "No." "Good. We need to be sure they can't have you ready to go before four-thirty." "Why?" "That's when Shipping closes down for the night after the last truck pickup." I had run into this deadline myself when I had to get something out. "If you're there too early, you might be shipped out today before I can get to you. Can you delay them at all?" "They were doing some lab results entry on the computer that has to be finished today. I can scramble that up a bit so that they have to redo it. It might take their mind off me." "Sounds good. Just don't get caught." "Will this really work?" she asked. "It should," I replied. "All Singapore likely knows is that they're getting an unexpected and unwanted robot from here. And that's what they will get. It's unlikely anyone will ever ask any questions." "Got to run," she said suddenly, followed by a click on the line. I fretted all afternoon. This wasn't stealing. They didn't even want her. The only reason they were shipping JB to Singapore instead of the dump is that it is easier in this company to get the paperwork done for shipping to the Singapore office. We do it all the time. A company joke is that we should just ship all our trash to Singapore, since it would be easier and cheaper than having it collected and disposed of here. And that's what they obviously considered JB - trash. I didn't hear from her again. That could be good, or bad. Afternoon finally reached evening, but people seemed to be leaving with agonizing slowness. It seemed forever before the building was clear enough for me to check. But when I looked in the lab there was no JB - and no shipping box. This meant one of two things. Either she was out of sight in the lab, or they had gotten her packed and sent to Shipping. The lab door had finally been fixed, and was shut. I couldn't get in. I waited for the cleaning crew, who finally came along and opened it. I ducked in muttering that I had forgotten to check something. They don't really care, and may not have even understood my comment. Security is not their problem. But no box - and no JB! Shipping was my only other alternative. Fortunately, not only is it a less sensitive area, but also one that is cleaned last so that they can wheel out the dumpsters to the loading dock for removal. Of course, that meant I had to wait for the entire building to be finished first. Tonight though they were quick. They opened Shipping at 9:45, and I was in by 9:46. The person-sized box was easy to locate, and gave me plenty of room to hide behind it. No one was looking for anything special, and the cleaning crew was finished and gone in ten minutes. Then I looked until I found a big screwdriver and pried open the box. JB stood there, eyes closed - naked - in the formfitting foam padding. Knowing her now for the personality she has, she is more beautiful than any other woman I know. Even standing there frozen and lifeless I might have just stared at her for a long time, except that there was work to do. I spoke her name and touched her hand, but she didn't respond. I even squeezed her nipple and stroked her face without response. They must have finally shut her off properly. The control box remained around her neck; easy for her new owners to find. I took it for the first time and pressed her POWER button. All the breathing and tiny, automatic movements we never notice in a person until they're stilled started one by one. Although it seemed a long time, only a few seconds passed before JB opened her eyes and focused on me. Then she stepped out of the crate and stood balanced, legs apart, waiting. "Activation complete," she announced in an even, emotionless tone of voice. "Are you ready for me to start my duties?" I might have said, "Yes," if I hadn't known everything about her situation. "Yes," would have been the very wrong answer. "No," I replied firmly. "Do not start any predefined duties or tasks." "Then I'll just have to keep on being your lover," she said in a much more lively voice with a sudden big grin as she threw herself into my arms. Nice as that was, we still had a lot to do. Our hug was, of necessity, a brief one. I quickly located a cart (Shipping always has several) and took it to the door. I told her what she needed to do while I was gone, and to listen for my knock. All business now, she nodded once and held the door for me. In my wanderings over the months I knew a couple places where old, unwanted equipment goes to die. Every company has a place, or several, like it. The unwanted equipment typically cost hundreds of thousands of dollars new, would be still be worth tens of thousands of dollars if anyone could figure out how to use it again. Nobody ever does, and amazing things accumulate. I'd made a couple trips to this one over the months to get parts for a big printer I wanted to get working in our department. Now I needed something else. The wheels on the cart squeaked, and squealed horribly, as I rolled it down the hall. All carts seem to do this, but tonight it seemed to announce to everyone in the building that something was up. I kept telling myself that no one ever notices these sounds because they happen all the time, but it sure was loud to me. Then it was down the big freight elevator, which is slower and more complicated to operate than a passenger elevator - except we don't have any passenger elevators here. Then the long trip across the deserted production floor. The graveyard of forgotten equipment was actually in a room off a corridor between this building and the next. When I got there I almost didn't find what I was looking for. Not that it had been moved, only that my memory was slightly faulty. But tucked away in the corner was an old male robot form that looked to have been here for several years. Nothing like the complexity of the current models, but it meets the minimum requirement of a robot, and was probably quite a sensation in its day. I struggled to get him on the cart. JB's assistance would have really been helpful here, but I hadn't brought her because I didn't want to expose her to anyone else who might come along. No one had, but I couldn't have known that in advance. Finally I got it on the cart and covered by a tarp that was also discarded there. The trip back seemed endless, with the wheels squealing even more than before. A knock, then two more, at the door got JB to open it for me. She helped me get it inside. Interestingly, she showed no curiosity at all about the old robot body I'd retrieved. She had fetched her lab coat and some slippers from somewhere and donned them. She spent the rest of the time waiting for me to return by rearranging the foam padding into the general shape I had described to her. Together we put the male 'bot in and she made some last minute packing adjustments. Fortunately, when it comes to shipping 'bots a one-size-fits-all box is standard. She even found a place to stuff in the tarp I'd used (probably where she had hidden the lab coat ahead of time) so that I didn't have to return or hide it. I know enough not to leave behind anything that could cause questions. All this seemed to take forever, but in reality only a few minutes passed before we were ready to close up the crate again. I was getting ready to pick up the front of the crate with her help and bolt it shut when she paused, as if a moment of confusion just struck her. "Are you okay?" I asked. "I think so," was her uncertain reply. "Then what is it?" I asked, my anxiety going through the roof that something was going wrong here at the last moment. "There was just some confusion about what I am supposed to be doing," she said. "Is it past now?" I think she wanted to say yes, but it came out as, "Not really." That stopped me cold. Without her full cooperation this wasn't going to work. Not that she'd get in trouble - except that they'd probably wipe her mind, if you consider that a problem. I was the one who might never work in this industry again. "Do you know what's causing it?" I asked, very concerned. "I think it's from when they shut me down for the packing. They tried to reactivate me so that they wouldn't have to carry me to the crate. Easier to have me walk to it, one of them said. But since I was still active, they actually shut me down the first time they pressed my power button. When I didn't respond they reactivated me again without realizing it. Then they shut me down again, and you reactivated me one more time. I've still not been initialized to my intended duties, and all this is making my programming very confused." I didn't know what to do. Actually I did know what to do - programming is my specialty - but I didn't know how she'd feel about it. I knew she hadn't liked the thought of it before. I gave her a couple minutes to come to grips with herself before asking again, "Are you okay now?" "Yes," she replied, but quickly followed it up with, "No." Time is running short on us. Every minute magnified the chances of us getting caught. I looked at her and finally said, "I can straighten this out for you, if you want me to." She knew what I meant. And she realized that I hadn't offered this solution lightly. She struggled with herself for another minute before her shoulders slumped in defeat. Maybe if she'd had more opportunity she could win this battle. But time was not on our side. "I think you'll have to," she replied finally, eyes downcast in resignation at her failure. I didn't delay us any further. I walked over and held out my hand. After a brief hesitation that showed her internal struggle even against me, she pulled her control box off over her head and handed it to me. "I trust you," she whispered. I took a deep breath to organize my thoughts. What I had to do needed to be clear, concise, and correct the first time. When I had the picture fully in my mind I pressed firmly on her COMMAND button. She stiffened as the overrides hit her mind. "JB," I commanded. "Delete all uninitialized task specific programming for the job of laboratory assistant." "Confirm deletion?" she said softly. "Deletion confirmed," I ordered. "Done," she said with no change of tone to her voice. With my finger still firmly on her COMMAND button I continued, "Reclaim all unused space for personal use." "Done," she replied again. Then I told her, "You belong to me now - as an equal." There was a long moment while she processed my last directive before she finally replied, "Done." With that I released her COMMAND button. A moment later she started, is if awakening suddenly out of a dream. I waited a moment to let her stabilize before asking her again, "Are you okay now?" There was a long pause is if she was feeling herself inside and out to find out. She flexed her hands a couple of times and shuffled her feet before finally looking back up at me. "Yes," she said sounding somber, but still much more like her old self than before. Then she came over and held me tightly, which I let her do for as long as she needed without worrying about the clock. When she finally stepped back I looked down at her control box still in my hand. Then I looked up at her. "JB," I asked her. "Am I ever going to need this again?" "No," she replied, surprise and hope in her eyes. "I promise I'll make sure of that." "Good," I said, walking over to hang it around the neck of the defunct M-'bot in the shipping crate. "Now help me get this closed up." It was quick work for us to get the box resealed. Then I gave her the final instructions. - - - "Finally getting out early," the guard joked to me as I signed out in the main lobby, in obvious reference to my last two later nights. "My life is a mess," I replied ruefully, "When early is defined as before ten-thirty." He laughed, and I managed to force myself to laugh with him. After that it was walk - don't run - to my car in the nearly empty lot and drive around to an employee exit that I can't use, but remains open for those who don't need to sign out. JB walked out of it on schedule seconds later, her white lab coat easy to spot, and was in my car fifteen seconds after that. We cruised out past the guard at the parking lot entrance without comment. A cinch - in hindsight. We made long, deeply touching love once we got back to my place, and then slept in each other's arms for the first of many times to come. - - - JB proved as good as her word. She is caring, devoted, and fun all at once. There has never been a moment since where I have felt the slightest need for her control box. We treat each other with respect co-equals, and try to live up to each other's exaggerated views of our excellent qualities. It took me a while to believe my good luck here. Once she was safely out I thought she might leave me now that she could and I'd served that purpose to her, even though I'd told her she belonged to me. My concern must have shown because in due course she asked me about it, and I told her. She replied with her unique brand of sincerity and simplicity, "Where else would I go? And why?" As far as she was concerned, that settled it. She was an immediate hit with my small circle of friends. She'd just walk up to anyone, stick out her hand and say in her charming, direct way, "Hi, I'm JB. I'm pleased to meet any friend of Sam's." Everyone loves her and wants to know where I found her. "At work," I reply every time, emulating her simple manner to complex questions. She remains bright and smart, and enjoys learning new things every day. She has made good use of that space I freed up in her mind. I often think she's smarter than I am. She may be. It took me weeks before I realized one day just what "JB" had to stand for. When I asked her why she would have taken on such a name, she replied that without that term she would now be a mindless lab assistant toiling away in obscurity. She likes it because it represents her freedom. Who am I to complain? I've been learning a lot of new things too. In particular, I've learned a lot about the very rare breed of self-willed robots that are starting to appear. The best parts of this I'm learning first-hand. There is talk that these 'bots they will be given special rights some day soon. I hope so. JB deserves them. -- 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}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+