FORWARD/DISCLAIMER
Standard disclaimers apply, all characters are of legal age etc., etc. There's more where this comes from, so if you're interested, or just feel like sharing some thoughts with me, be more than welcome to do so. Abusive and/or non-constructive criticism will simply be deleted, however. I hope you enjoy.
*****
Miranda was in a pickle. See, not only had she broken into her date's home, she had inadvertently triggered some special feature of his automatic furniture. The chair in his waiting room was designed for more than just the usual recline functions; she'd noticed that the drink holders slid back after she activated a customized routine in the room's computer automation interface, and she rested her chin on the backrest as she fiddled with it when - to her surprise - the loops had tightened around her wrists.
She was in no immediate danger. She was supremely healthy, had eaten as little as an hour ago, and in fact had used his sanitary robot to tend her private needs while still trapped against the chair. The real question was, what would her date do when he came home to discover she'd brute-forced his cheap digital lock, and then started fiddling with his custom programs.
Furthermore, her pants were around her ankles as a result of using the sanitary robot, and she wasn't wearing any underwear, much less a chastity device.
There was probably, if he was as smart as he seemed to be (had probably programmed if not fabricated the entire mechanism himself), a safe word function that would release her. And what she had done probably amounted to little more than petty vandalism as the main security apparatus was still intact, protecting the more private areas of the home. But the logs would show what she had done, and he would know everything.
But, she had to admit, she was curious. Curious, and from the feel of her quickened heart rate and a certain tingle that might indicate wetness, more than a little excited. What, exactly, was the cryptic chair function for? Was it just copy and pasted from a spaceship software package to hold your drink during fancy maneuvers? Or was there another reason -- a reason which might explain the unusual slide-back feature which just happened to be holding her in a very helpless, suggestive -- nay, explicitly kinky -- sexual position?
He seemed like a nice guy, and his references had been sound, if a little understated. She had been surprised on their first date, actually; he came across as a reclusive, awkward type, but charming in his own way, not at all like the sleazy grease monkeys she was used to being propositioned by. He had exceeded her expectations, and hadn't pressed for sex when she'd informed him it was her rule to get to know someone first. They'd both had a good time, a refreshing change from her average experience, and one she was willing to follow up on.
Now, however, she worried if she hadn't made a hopeless mess of it. Her reckless enthusiasm had gotten her in trouble before, usually with her friends in tow, and she may have jeopardized her reputation with what may have been the only eligible bachelor she had met worth speaking to. Well, perhaps it wasn't too late to ask forgiveness. Maybe, if she stayed like this, the awkwardness of her situation would amuse him enough to forgive her. All she had to do was wait.
She must have drifted off, dreaming of the naughty things she hoped the chair was designed to do but would never admit to in public. And what a delicious sight she would have in that mirror if he stood behind her...
The sound of the hydraulic door closing startled her. She heard a voice too.
"Um, hi," she started in her best embarrassed-reconciliatory tone. "What was that?"
"I said, you look even better than I imagined," he said, walking around to look her in the eye.
Her heart skipped a beat at his piercing expression. Blood rushed to her face - and elsewhere.
"I, uh, kinda let myself in," she said, suddenly flustered. "Hope you don't mind too much?"
"Well that depends," he said. "But before we get to that, what do you think of the chair?"
"I think it needs a warning label," she replied, "so idiots like me know not to do anything stupid that would get them stuck in it."
"Don't be too hard on yourself, I wrote that function myself. You wouldn't believe how many safeguards the original programming had to prevent things like that. It was actually easier to just write it from scratch. You see, I was expecting you'd do something like this."
"What do you mean?" she asked, shocked.
"I followed your social feeds. I know you like to show up early and critique your dates based on the meeting place, and I told you I was working late when we agreed to meet here, knowing you'd be anxious to stop by and take a look. I also know you're a fan of animals, so I made sure to mention I had a fishbowl wall to make you curious to see inside past the privacy windows. I even set the house to notify me if you found any of the custom functions in this room. All I had to do was wait."
"How... I didn't even know I was going to do this. How did you know? And why would you go to all this trouble just to embarrass me?"
"Oh it was no trouble. And I'm not trying to embarrass you."
"But you said you had to write the program from scratch, because of all the safeguards getting in your way. And then you added something to watch to see if I found it. I'm so confused!"
"Oh yes, that's all true. But you see, I wrote the program some time ago, before I met you. And embarrassing you would be so much better in public. I could get you arrested again, probably, but I wouldn't enjoy that so much."
"Then why in all the heavens would you write a program like that, and leave it for me to find?"
"I'm glad you asked that! And I'd love to show you. Now there's just one thing you need to remember."
"What?"
"If you don't like what's happening, and you want to leave, just tell me that the Pope is throwing a monkey in the dishwasher."
"What?! Why would he do something like that?"
"The point isn't that he did it, because I'm pretty sure he didn't. The point is that it's not the kind of thing you would say in normal conversation -- that way I know you're not playing anymore. You don't have to say exactly that, just something like it."
"OK... I guess."
"Excellent! Now, I want you to tell me how you got in here."
"What does that have to do with how this chair works?"
"You'll see."
"Well, so you weren't supposed to be home..."
"Right. So?"
"So I stopped by, to make sure I knew the way later. Wouldn't do to be late."
"A likely story."
"It's true!"
*SPANK*
"Aaaigh! What was that for?"
"I don't believe you."
"Ok, well... That was one reason. I wanted to see where you lived, so I would know if you were rich, creepy, maybe a little insane. Ugh, I can't move!"
"Yes, I think you're beginning to understand. Keep going."
"Are you going to spank me again?"
