Whatever Happened to Martin? (Work Release)

 This will be my last Flashback Friday for a few weeks until i am caught on my commission backlog. It is for Work Release

Good Morning, you're through to UltraReal Bodysuits Customer Care, my name is Felicity. How can I help you today?

Oh, God. I don't believe it. I'm through. I actually did it... All these years of playing the good little employee have actually paid off. It will all be worth it.

Slow down, Speedie, how can I help you today?

Yes, well, my name is Martin, and you probably don't remember me but I am calling from Bedfellows Escorts and I would like to report a gross misuse of your bodysuits.

I am sorry sir, but I can only speak with the named person on that corporate account and that is...

Sam Sparrows! I know! That evil bitch has been keeping us as her whores for years!

Excuse me?

She hired a bunch of your suits to put the guys at our company through supposed sensitivity training, but it was all a ruse!

A ruse?

Yes, there was no training. Not in sensitivity anyway. She turned us into the company's newest escorts. And the bodysuits...oh God...they made us want it!

Ah, yes, the Ladies of the Night range! They are some of our finest...

Don't you think I know? The extra libido alone has made me do things that will never wash off. But no more. Over the past couple of years I have been sucking up to Sam Sparrows and as of yesterday I am her new personal assistant...with full access to the company accounts and records.

I really am sorry sir, but I can only speak with Ms. Sparrows herself.

Would it help if I had the account number? I'm at the bitch's desk right now.

Well, yes...but...

It's 67983538X

Okay...I am pulling it up now...oh wow!

Yes, 'oh wow'. I am sure now you can see the scale of what that perverted bitch has been doing. There are hundreds of us. All humiliating ourselves for her profit. Even now that I am behind a desk again, she still treats me like a slut. You have to release us from the suits and call the police right now!

No, I mean 'oh wow' as in this account is worth 26 million a year. That's one of our biggest. My stock options... This would decimate them...

What?!

Sir, I think this connection is breaking up.

But, I can hear you just fine.

No, it's....def....break...up...bad...tion

Ms? Ms? Felicity, wasn't it? Are you still there? Please help us!!

I, Maidbot Part 4

 

Immobilisation gives one a lot of time to think, and boy, did Robbie think. In the dark of the back of the truck surrounded by the other defective AutoMaids, as he was wheeled into the warehouse and inventoried by some dweeb with a mullet, and as he was plugged into a laptop via the same port he loaded in all his fantasy scripts two days earlier in his garage. In his infinite stillness, he worried about what would happen to his consciousness if his new maid body was sent for scrap, he pondered whether Bot-Robbie would make a better husband than he had, or if he too would reach his tolerance of Marie and come up with some hair brained scheme to replace her. Was there any of the real-Robbie person still in the real-Robbie body? He considered what he would do if he was placed with another customer and expected to clean house. Could they load software that would make him do that? But most of all, he thought about sex. His body was still but his robotic loins were restless. He needed relief from the inhuman cravings that were consuming his paralysed form. He didn't care if he stayed an AutoMaid forever – he just needed a release.

“This one is totally fucked!!” The technician at the laptop shook his head to no-one in particular. “Operating system is completely gone and there is so much rogue code in there I don't even know where to start unpicking it.”

“Hmmm...” A colleague joined him and pondered what was on the screen. “Looks like a lot of sex scripts and kink programming. My guess is there was a mix up at the factory. We got a sex-doll and some poor sap with a hard-on for droid-women got a bot more interested in turning up his bedsheets than taking a tumble in them. Let's ship this one back to the factory. They'll know where it needs to go...”

And that's how, two weeks later, Robbie found himself being sold for a cut price as a refurbished sex-doll. It didn't matter how much he tried to explain the mix-up, his new owner didn't even speak English. Robbie didn't even know what country he was in – he just knew that he had spent a long time immobilised inside a crate. His new owner, a grubby fat man, was not phased by his new toy's protests. For the deal he got, he was more than happy to use the immobiliser to good effect whenever it got annoying. Having been resold as an “AutoCompanion”, Robbie has introduced to a wardrobe that extended far beyond the French Maid outfit he had barely got used to. He was dressed in a selection of fetish and fantasy outfits including as a cheerleader and a female gimp and positioned as a risqué piece of furniture during the day, but at night the man preferred to strip him down to a pair of crotchless panties and heels and position him on the bed ready to be fucked. It was only then would Robbie be unfrozen. Primed and ready to be screwed silly with his ass propped up on a pillow, he knew now was his chance – to run, to escape, to somehow get home and expose Bot-Robbie as the imposter he was. But, oh...fuck!! He needed that release...

I, Maidbot Part 3

Being terrified and hornier that he had ever been in his life was a bizarre experience. The AutoMaid company sent a truck to collect him immediately after Marie screamed down the phone for ten minutes at a helpless customer service agent while Bot-Robbie soothingly rubbed her shoulders and shook his head in exaggerated dismay. Robbie knew he should run – there was no way being carted back to the AutoMaid factory could lead to anything good – but before he could, he saw Bot-Robbie handing Marie the immobilizer that had been with the kit in the garage and suddenly he was frozen in place.

His consciousness remained, hence the terror/sex-cravings cocktail, yet he could not movea single piston to run, protest his predicament or simply relieve the warm itch that had spread across his entire body. He just stood there frozen as Bot-Robbie brushed Marie's hair gently. The AutoMaid truck arrived along with the indignity of having one of their correctly functioning maid droids help package up his prone form for shipping while Bot-Robbie diligently supplied the driver with all the paperwork and accessories from the garage. The delivery maid tied his arms behind his back firmly as the driver explained it was to stop them flailing around during shipping, and this only drove Robbie more wild. The French maid before him was acting out one of the fantasies he had purchased the AutoMaid for and this one hadn't even been reprogrammed. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and when they returned to staring straight ahead, the AutoMaid was glaring at him – her arms folded. Did she know? Could she somehow sense her colleague in front of her had been infiltrated.

Robbie thought he saw the hint of a smile. But, that was impossible wasn't it? And then the driver and maid were working together strapping him to a trolley and wheeling him from the house while Bot-Robbie held open doors for them.

“What will happen to it?” Marie asked thoughtfully, tentatively stroking Robbie's synthetic skin. Her simple touch sent lightning bolts through his body and he screamed silently. It seems a shame to just scrap it!”

“It depends...” The driver sighed. “The eggheads at the factory will run diagnostics on it and figure out what is wrong with it. Then it will either be dismantled for spare parts or resold as a refurbished unit. This one looks physically fine, so most likely they will refresh its compliance software and find it a new home. I am sorry it didn't work out for you.” He tipped his hat and started to push the tied Robbie towards the ramp into the back of the truck.

“Wait!” It was Bot-Robbie, one arm raised uttering the first words since they had switched consciousnesses. Robbie's heart soared as it strode purposefully towards the truck. “Don't forget this!” It produced a feather duster that had been left on the living room floor and tucked it into Robbie's apron. Then it stepped back and gave a quick salute. “Bon voyage!”     

 

I, Maidbot Part 2

 

Robbie had to think quickly on his feet – feet that were now perched on a pair of six-inch heels. Whilst wearing his own skin, he had promised Marie he would return the AutoMaid to the store, so now that his consciousness had somehow been transferred into the sexy robot, he needed to give her reason not to make good on that promise on his behalf – at least until he found some way of getting his mind in his own body. That meant that he had to fulfil the intended usefulness of the product he had purchased. Robbie had never cooked and cleaned before but now he was doing so like his life depended on it – because it probably did.

So, while Marie barked instructions at him like he was an imbecile, he plundered through his tasks. With every awkward movement, the satin of his uniform and the soft silk of his stocking swished against the artificial sensors that acted like nerve endings beneath his ultra-realistic but synthetic skin and an odd sensation began to grow inside him. He had already cursed himself for deleting the maid's abilities to perform chores as he fumbled awkwardly with the mop, but now he was being reminded of what he replaced them with? Was he becoming aroused? Was that even possible? His mind was flooded with a million different ideas for achieving climax – for helping others climax – hell, he was staring at his wife while she shouted at him for using the wrong fabric cleaner on the sofa and all he could think of was the perfect way to make her cum her brains out. Why couldn't he have had that knowledge five years ago? If he had, it would never have come to this... As much as he wanted to try anyway, he knew there was no way Marie would go for kinky lesbian sex with a robotic French maid who had just permanently stained her couch.

To make things worse, Robbie's body was back up and running too and had left the garage, presumably with the AutoMaid's version of a consciousness pulling the levers. Bot-Robbie didn't talk yet he operated himself with graceful precision, performing tasks such as making Marie a drink at exactly the right moment or placing a hand on her shoulder as she was becoming overwhelmed with rage at their pathetic new maid. Hours later, Robbie heard the unmistakeable squeak of mattress springs followed by cries of ecstasy from upstairs as Bot-Robbie ripped sounds out of his wife real-Robbie had never managed in years of marriage. He followed the exaltations to the bedroom to find Marie on her back with one of her shoes still on as Bot-Robbie jackhammered away at her like a man possessed – as in a way he was.

Robbie's arousal peaked despite the betrayal of seeing his wife cuckold him with his own sexbot cosplaying with his own body. He slipped a delicate feminine hand up under his apron as he continued to watch, seeking out the robotic pussy he had promised himself – albeit not like this. Finding it, he closed his eyes.

“Good fucking gracious!!” He heard Marie scream in fright. “How did that thing get in here?! Okay, that's enough. I am calling the company myself. It's going back right now!”

I, Maidbot Part 1

 

Robbie was used to disappointing his wife, though he seldom did it on purpose – such was the case when he brought home the AutoMaid 3000. It's true that the ultra-realistic female robot was a state-of-the-art piece of kit whose designers promised would revolutionise household chores once and for all, and a fully functional AutoMaid would have done just that for Robbie and Marie's home. At least it would have had Robbie not taken it round to one of his tech friends on the way home from the store to have its operating system wiped out.

Robbie had disappointed Marie one too many times and the marital bed had become dormant. He had considered cheating, but he just didn't have that much game. So, upon seeing a commercial for the super hot AutoMaid 3000 for the first time, he instantly turned to the internet to do some research. Being that it was originally created as a generic multi-purpose robot, it had capabilities far beyond housekeeping and even had fully functioning and realistic breasts and sex-organs. Apparently, the creators had at one point seen the droid as a potential way to sanitise the sex industry, or at least provide companionship to a generation of lonely men.

That's where Robbie's friend came in. By removing the housemaid operating system, he freed up the robot's mind to be loaded with any program he desired. There were entire online communities devoted to sharing apps that taught the AutoMaid to learn all sorts of perverted skills. There was even a plug-in what could sync with the owner and learn all their desires and preferences in a matter of minutes to become the perfect lover. All it needed was an extra bit of black market tech – something that Robbie spared no expense on.

Marie's appraisal of the AutoMaid 3000 was swift and derisive. It couldn't cook. It couldn't clean. It couldn't even load the dishwasher. Robbie was more than happy to take it to the garage and organise a return in the morning. Once out of sight of his wife, he got to work loading all the seedy scripts via a bluetooth connection with his phone. As program after program went into corrupting the maid's brain, he grew excited. He gazed over his new purchase. It really was indistinguishable from a real, and very beautiful, woman. Finally, satisfied he had loaded all the abilities and features he wanted into his new sex-bot, Robbie prepared the plug-in to sync the maid with his preferences. He attached the headset to himself and plugged the other end into the maid before realising with frustration that there wasn't an outlet in the garage. With another stroke of genius, he wired the power source to the garage-door battery and prepared for the sync to start. There was a flash as long white sparks -shot from the battery and then everything went black.

Sometime later, a groggy Robbie was stumbling back to the house. His entire body felt stiff and weird like he had never used it before. He entered through the back door to find his wife standing there. “So you do know where the kitchen is then?” She spoke as if addressed a child. Robbie raised his hands to his head. Why did she sound so loud? He cringed at the intensity in her voice and turned away defensively to where a mirror hung above the dining table. The AutoMaid 3000 stared back – an expression of fear and confusion etched across her face.

Hot House Part 2

 21/25

They came at night, storming the boys' dormitory of Hot House like commandos in the dark, and by the time the five male contestants knew what had happened, it was already too late. Any of the show's millions of viewers who tuned in to watch the early morning programming were treated to confusion slowly and groggily morphing into sheer terror as groans of WTF were quickly replaced by shrieks cascading from bed to bed. Each boy awoke to find themselves completely naked under their covers and upon pealing back their duvets, they stared on in horror at the tiny metal devices that had been attached to their genitals. Padlocked cages squeezed their throbbing cocks, preventing their morning wood while long flat wires wrapped around the rest of their genitalia – tightly secured with a padlock at the backs of their scrotums. One by one, the boys screamed and tugged at the mini-prisons – and one by one they realised the true helplessness of their predicament as small but painful electric shocks shots from the devices into their groins.

Hot House changed dramatically from that morning on – both as a house and as a show. The four remaining girls quickly revealed themselves as the culprits and as the new dominant presence in the house. The boys' pleas fell on deaf ears and the girls moved rapidly to assert their new order. All male clothing had been removed from the house in the same night and each boy was thrown a pair of frilled satin panties as pathetic modesty. It only got worse as the girls bathed and groomed them, removing all their body hair and applying treatments and lotions. Shocks were dealt out liberally to maintain strict compliance and by the end of the second day, each boy was a broken simpering shadow of their former selves – willing to do anything to avoid another jolt in the testicles.

The challenges would change too and it was on day 5 of the new way of things that Robbie and Jay found themselves engaged unwillingly in a staring contest – each of the boys clad in humiliating latex lingerie with a chain attached to a choker around each of their throats holding them in place. Neither could bring themselves to meet the other's eye for it would bear a stark reminder of their own degradation.

“You know this is all Emi, right?” Robbie hissed. “None of those other girls would say boo to a ghost before she got a taste for blood when Jared lost that challenge. I bet she's some kind of freak on OnlyFemmes or something.”

“I think...” Jay stammered, “I think at least this will be over soon. Our followers must be leaving in droves... No-one would want to follow someone who does...this...” He finally raised his gaze to meet Robbie's painted face. “Right!?”

Whatever Happened to Ron? (In Your Dreams)

 The original caption for this Flashback Friday is In Your Dreams

Ron browsed the news website in silence. As for most people these days, there was little in the headlines to make him smile. It was the entertainment stories that interested him. He sighed. His ex was on the front page again – as she had been consistently since leaving him eleven years ago when all her dreams seemed to come true at once and Ron no longer fit into her plans for the future. Her ascent into the public eye had been astronomical – an overnight household name with a modelling contract, sponsorship deals and television cameos, even her dating life post-Ron was splattered across the tabloids – a never-ending string of musicians and sports stars.

Ron clicked into the newest story about her – the latest of a string of recent scandals that had damaged the reputation of the star who seemingly could do know wrong. This time x-rated photos of her had apparently leaked online. Both her and her agent had alleged they were deep-fakes of AI generated slop but the news story included quotes from an apparent digital expert who claimed that the photographs were genuine, or at least they hadn't been doctored in any way. The story ended with threats of a coming lawsuit.

“Some people don't change...” Ron grinned wryly and closed the browser. He spun on his office chair to face the dreamcatcher hanging above his bed. “And some people do...!”

It had taken Ron three weeks to get his body back after the first time he transformed into his ex. So heartbroken was he by her that every time he closed his eyes, she was there, and so every time he opened his eyes again, he was her, right down to her double-Ds and the birthmark just above her pussy. When he had eventually been able to dream of being himself again, he had awoken to his old body and relief had flooded his chest...at least until the rage and betrayal came rushing back.

An online lucid dreaming course had helped him learn to control the transformations, and while he had used the dreamcatcher to achieve a few personal goals, his ex never left his bitter heart...not really anyway. How could she? Every day she was on his television, in the news, on the tip of the public tongue. That's when he realised he could redirect the conversation...

Ron turned on the white noise loop and climbed onto the bed below the dreamcatcher. Closing his eyes, he pictured his ex wrapped in fishnets...a body-stocking, her pert nipples swelling with arousal from between the string. She was wearing heeled ankle boots and tiny panties that left nothing to the imagination. No...that was wrong, Ron thought as his mind drifted into slumber. They hid her birthmark. He smiled as the dreamcatcher started to work his magic. He would have to remove them for the video he was going to make. He couldn't have the public doubting its authenticity...