@utomata_ #08

_Automata 08

__DARK_KISS__

This is my first SciFi erotica series called '_Automata'. This involves a girl forced into a BDSM relationship with a cyborg after a robot apocalypse. See 'Girls Submission to AI in Latex.' https://literotica.com/s/girls-submission-to-ai-in-latex for the beginning. Thanks for all 100% of 5 star likes on the last chapter 7. Wonderful to get a perfect writing score.

All characters are over 18 years of age; please respect the author's copyright. This is a work of fantasy. Please don't try a robot apocalypse at home.

If you wish to judge the writing, you have permission to jump to __DARK_KISS__. Trigger warnings, corset, latex, high heels, rimming.

__Synopsis__

Captured during an AI uprising, Jenny, Joe, Kayla, and others are trapped in a slave training camp. A camp designed to train humans to submit as sex slaves to intelligent machines. AI, Robots, High Cyborgs need people to sleep for them to stop them going mad. Jenny knows she is being solemnly watched by machine voyeurs known only as j0n35:I and R0ckw00d:C. Kayla is secretly a Judas-goat for the AI called, Sovereign. Jenny doesn't know it but she dreams in color and is much sought after by the machines.

__Terms and conditions__

Jenny was sitting in the bunk she had been assigned that evening. It was a top one for a change. The bunk locations changed every night. The cot roulette was to stop them from feeling there was anything like 'their bed'. It was another not-so-subtle reminder that we were slut-units. They were just objects under the machines' thumb. Jenny lay back, to be herself. During the day, she surrendered to being the slut, TwoFour. She marched in lockstep with the others. She followed the orders the collar gave her. Then in the evening, she went to what the robot guards called, 'milking'. Sovereign or Mistress was there to push her limits. Generally, she would cum on demand, her orgasms growing deeper, than they had any natural right to be. She would be told what a good little toy she would make for some robot someday, then return to her 'herd'. TwoFour would take all this.

Then later in the evening, she would have a few hours before curfew to be Jenny. Joe and Kayla were there, to be her trusted friends. They could make jokes about what they had to do. Kayla had introduced them to a few of the guard robots called Tobors. They looked like two-legged-shaped factories, with bare pipes and cables--as if the inside of a washing machine had come to life. Kayla showed how you could flirt with them. Eventually, you could normally offer to give them a blowjob. Except, their equivalent of cum was mostly vodka. Degrading work, but after a few slams, you could get moderately wrecked. Enough to forget about the horrors of the spiked womb they all lived in.

"Hey," Kayla said, as both she and Joe arrived. "Delta-Seven just got upgraded to four-inch stilettos. We thought we would find some Tobors to celebrate. I think I saw master Victor on Level 42."

Joe lifted his foot up, to show his new stiletto heels off. The machines started the meat off with low heels. Then, when they had got their balance, moved up as a reward for passing one test or another. Slowly, they would work their way up to the six-inch fuck-me heels. The sort Kayla could stride so confidently around in.

"Yeah, I'm good. You two go have fun," Jenny said, pulling out the user guide she had got from the shelf, the machines called 'the library'.

"What are you going to do, find a gasser?" Kayla said.

The gassers were other grades of control bots. If you kissed them in the right way, they could exhale nitrous oxide or laughing gas. A ten-minute face planting session would be enough to see you stumble away giggling your ass off. You could get pretty high before you crashed back into the cages. It even made the pornography watchable.

"No," Jenny said, enjoying the luxury of the word rolling off her tongue. Sluts could not use words like 'no' to their owners. You couldn't say 'no' to a machine; you needed euphemisms like 'it would be difficult'.

"I got this, and I thought I would study the terms and conditions. Apparently, you're supposed to be able to recite them on delivery."

Kayla tilted her head.

"Seriously? Owners just say accept before you have a chance, so you never have to say them. Even if you did, the collar would just dictate them like marriage vows to your ear. There must be, like, twenty pages."

"Twenty-three," Jenny corrected. "It's this place is like the buy page on Amazon. The obvious thing to do is to click on buy, with Amazon Prime membership. The easy thing isn't always the best for you. You have to search for the nearly invisible buy without a Prime membership button. This slut hasn't done anything which needed the least mental effort for so long. So this is this slut's chance."

"Hey," Joe said. "Who's your bidder?"

Jenny checked her arm. "It's switched to j0n35:I, again. I'm glad it's not Rockwood, a half-man-half-machine sounds unpleasant. What about you?" For Jenny, Joe and Kayla, it flipped between R0ckw00d:C and j0n35:I. Looking at the others with bids, Jenny suspected that the suffixes determined what they were :R was robots; :A was AI; :C was cyborg; and :I meant immortal. Some sell-out immortal wanted to fuck her.

Joe nodded, "Yeah, me too."

Kayla looked at her arm, it read, j0n35:I. "Yeah, me too. Great, we could be together."

Just then, an order came through on her control collar.

"Oh," Jenny said, "I'm being ordered to go to room 10.1. Think I've done something wrong?"

"I can't see how," Kayla said, her look of concern was full.

Jenny was always giving the machines the finger. It was a miracle they were some of the last who hadn't been badly punished. Jenny checked herself out in the mirror--the catsuit and harness were still in place. She still shined. She, following the orders, returned the user manual to the shelf, where it belonged and left.

_Living as TwoFour_

As Jenny showed her barcodes to open the cages and the doorways, she found herself slipping into TwoFour. It was her alter ego, who was more able to suit the life in the tower. It was her thick hide, the armour she wrapped herself in to survive.

TwoFour passed some submissives in the corridor. The 'click, click' of their heels sounded like the tapping at a strict typewriter. They wore corsets and latex dresses as marks of their status before sovereign. They thought themselves so superior (which technically, they were). Just because they had blonde hair, walked in five-inch heels and had a few more studs in their right ears. They would look down on her with their white contact lens eyes. The lenses which made them look like mechanical vampires. Somehow, simultaneously scary and sensual. Once, they had been marketing PA, freelance crystal healers, and vice presidents for accounting. Now, they just existed to serve as the machines' whores. As she passed the submissives, she curtsied to them, as she had been taught. Rank was everything in the tower.

TwoFour followed the collar's instructions. She slinked up the stairs. These days, she tended to catwalk even when she didn't need to, as it was more comfortable that way. As she strutted, the balls up her pussy would ride and massage her to an easy level of a warm and wet slut. The trick, she told herself, was not to submerge yourself in it. If you did that too often, you ran the risk of not coming back up.

__TRANSFORMATION__

She passed the control robots and seemed, from the tones of the cries, to be entering the male-slut area. TwoFour arrived at the door, and quietly knocked. There was a delay. Mistress emerged, and looked TwoFour over.

"Yes, you will do." Mistress said, "Come in here."

Mistress took Jenny to another small room next door. "Take your clothes off," Mistress said.

"Yes, Mistress. I exist to obey," TwoFour added. TwoFour had no shame; her modesty had been beaten out of her by many hard blows and sharp tongues. The 'exist to obey' slogan was an attempt to get some more likes from the surveillance system. If she was going to work late, she might as well get some hearts and likes out of it.

TwoFour stood before Mistress, dressed only in her chest tattoo. A small non-sentient robot turned up carrying some plastic packages.

"Get dressed in these, those shoes, this perfume. Make sure you are well polished, then knock on the door again," Mistress said.

TwoFour signalled that she requested to speak.

"Speak," Mistress said.

"Mistress has given me the dress of a submissive. This is higher privilege than this slut is permitted," TwoFour said.

"I know. Do what you're told," Mistress said. "I don't have a suitable submissive available. You will have to honour the part."

"Yes. Mistress," TwoFour said. "I live to obey."

Mistress left, but could not resist tweaking TwoFour's nipple on the way out. TwoFour got dressed. She had been handed a halter-neck dress, which was cut quite high. The dress came with sleeves and long latex gloves, long latex stockings and a pair of five-inch stiletto boots. The hobble skirt hung tightly to her flesh; it silhouetted her legs and hips like a delicious French curve. TwoFour was polishing herself when the door opened, and Mistress came back in. She got down to kneel, as any slut must to a machine.

"Stop," Mistress said, holding something flapping in her hands. "Turn around."

TwoFour did, and felt Mistress wrap a corset around her waist. It was quite long, incorporating cup holders and going down to her hips. Mistress adjusted it and then began lacing it up.

"Breathe in," Mistress ordered.

TwoFour followed her orders. Mistress was able to tighten the laces like a boa constrictor. When TwoFour tried to exhale, her body couldn't move.

"Again," Mistress ordered.

This time, it was even tighter. TwoFour could hardly breathe. Her chest heaved, causing her synthetic breasts to flag their attention to people. The corset was as tight as a fist. Mistress took the lace which had been pulled between the holes, and wrapped it twice around Jenny's waist. Jenny could see herself in the mirror, her luscious, highly feminine form crafted to show off her hips. It was like being a woman but turned up to Level Eleven. The experience was not of her expectation. The anaconda-like tightness felt strangely warm and reassuring. It was like being held in a lover's firm embrace. Mistress handed over a digital lipstick. In a few practised strokes, TwoFour had the vermillion color. A color which Jenny had once described as 'suck your dick red'.

"Look up," Mistress said. TwoFour did, and Mistress put the white contact lenses in. The heavy makeup, the perfect matte skin, the hair and the white contact lenses led her into a pornification of 'The Uncanny Valley' between human and machine. She had long ago, stopped looking like the woman she vaguely remembered. Now, she looked like she was edging closer to being a stale machine. Except for the hair colour and earrings, she looked like a mid-ranking submissive.

TwoFour was ordered to follow Mistress. The corset and the heels forced her to stand upright, and proudly strut. In numbers, five-inch heels were a small step from her four-and-a-half-inch ones. In practice, they felt like a new level of difficulty. Her weight was firmly on the ball of her foot, she had to move more like a prowling panther than ape kin.

_DARK_KISS__

TwoFour followed Mistress into the first room. The room was red velvet, like so many of the dungeons were. In it was a cage, some torture furniture and a male-slut on his knees in stocks. His face was covered, but the breathing hole was open, showing his thin firm lips. Between his legs, his chastity box wrapped his dick.

Mistress pointed at the vaulting horse. "C11," she said, indicating the machine-code position she wanted TwoFour to take. Early on, there had been class after class. In them, they shouted each code and punished those who did not get in position quick enough. The C11 position was forming a toppled L-shape. Head and arms on the vaulting horse and bending at a right angle from the hips. Legs were vertical, but spread apart forming the usual A-shape. Mistress then used some straps to lock TwoFour's hands and neck in place.

Mistress lifted TwoFour's skirt up, and exposed her naked cunt and ass. The room felt cold to her exposed pussy. Mistress strutted and grabbed TwoFour's butt plug. To her digital touch, it retracted and allowed itself to be pulled from her ass with a plop.

"As a submissive, I'm giving you permission to cum whenever you want. Hold it, let it out, I don't care. I can tell if you're faking it, so don't bother. You are here to serve your sovereign with your body."

With that, Mistress put a blindfold around TwoFour's eyes. This was followed by a penetrative gag in her mouth. TwoFour stood passively, as the gag's cords were tied around the back of her head. It had become a familiar, almost-comforting ritual. Her nipples began to mushroom against the tight hobble dress in sheer expectation.

TwoFour now plunged into darkness, and could only hear what was happening. This focused her inward to feel her body, her heartbeat wavering in anticipation. She heard someone with heavy footsteps walk into the room. Someone followed the click-click heels of Mistress.

"This is a fucking fantastic piece of ass, isn't it?" Mistress said. As she talked, she ran what felt like a feather down TwoFour's right buttock and then her thigh. The dress was unzipped and her ass exposed. The exposure and the position it had, put a charge over TwoFour's flesh.

"Look at that hole," Mistress said to the male-slut. She continued to stroke TwoFour's ass. "So tight, just behind these smooth crescent moons, shining like a pink star in white space.

"So, are you ready for your first dark kiss, ZeroNine? Look at that ass, it's so perfect, it's going to be like Frenching a marble sculpture by Henry More. Look at you, so reluctant. Well, if you hadn't been a naughty boy, I might have hosed her down before you got started. Normally, for the very reluctant, I might throw in a Champagne enema."

TwoFour didn't understand the slut's reluctance. The machines had dumped toilet paper. Instead, they used complex, hands-free, warm-water sprays. It was like having her undercarriage serviced in a smutty car wash. Her fanny had received the full treatment an hour ago. It was probably still clean to the point of being turtled waxed.

The man breathed behind her, the touch of his breath on her ass, made Jenny's back hole tighten. He whimpered, as TwoFour felt him flinch from punishment. TwoFour didn't want this, and she pushed forward straining at her bonds. Then at her limit, she began to feel an energetic tongue ride over her filthy muscle.

She felt the man push his tongue up her arse hole. She felt her breath taken away, to her surprise, this felt pleasurable. There was the sound of slapping, as the man was encouraged to probe harder and harder. She found herself squirming, her asshole over his rasping tongue. She tried not to clench. He rewarded her by alternately penetrating her over and over. Then, he began wiggling his tongue deep inside her.

"Harder, Faster!" Mistress ordered.

Jenny could feel her juices start to flow. After months of being tied up in the tower, the sluts would get wet at the sound of a firm cough. Jenny gasped, as the tongue pushed in and out, and as it left her red-hot hole, it almost plopped. The grinding and grinding continued, relentlessly. Jenny became lightheaded, almost high, as she was unable to breathe deeply enough. She found herself rotating her hips around his keen shaft. Each lick and each ride for her anus, was pushing her closer and closer. This felt too good. Just when she thought he was done, Mistress would slap and whip the man.

Jenny could hear him strain against the chastity box. He was getting hard, but the cage would stop him. It forced him to exist only for her benefit. Jenny let out a timeless moan. It was out of her control. She could feel the latex of his mask, rub against her ass. It was like a battering ram was smashing down her back gate. Then he would stop and suckle on her pussy juice, then use it to lubricate another attack.

The relentless attention continued. Jenny wasn't expecting to cum from this. The more his tongue constantly fucked her delicate hole, the warmer she got. The corset began to make her feel everything inside her. The corset made her aware of everything happening in her body. She could feel the food moving one way, the bile in another. The air in her lungs, the fire in her blood. The flow built up like a river pushing to overflow its banks. She almost shut down her mind, as it seemed a superfluous drain on her body. She fell into a new mode of consciousness. The slaves called it slut-space. It was like a meditation zone of pure energy.

Her sensations reduced to little more than the content pounding on her hole.

"More," she said. She felt out of breath, like she was climbing Mount Everest.

Mistress whipped, and the man continued.

The ridges of his tongue teased her hot ring. Then she found herself shuddering.

"Down," Mistress said.

Jenny fell to the floor. The man landed next to her. She fazed in and out for a second.

"Looks like you get to live," Mistress said, proudly.

Unable to breath, Jenny found herself waking up. The corset was holding her up like a rag doll on the floor. Her ass was still bare. He was next to her. Mistress had left the room.

"Thanks," she said.

"No," the man said, from behind the mask. "Thank you. If you didn't cum, I would be dead."

"They say that," Jenny said, hearing about Joe's experience.

The man pushed his sweaty body up. "I mean it," he said. Moving closer, he whispered in her ear, "We found one of us was working for them. They have agents pretending to be slaves living with us. We found out and began to beat the shit out of him. Cracked his head before the robots found us. They are deciding which of us is going to make an example of. Thanks to you, I'm going to live. Just don't listen to anyone. Don't trust anyone. Tell everyone."

Jenny must have fainted or fallen asleep. She woke up alone, and her collar ordered her to return.

Jenny walked back into the cages and bounced from six-bed bay to six-bed bay, looking for Joe and Kayla. She even mistook a lesbian couple in an upper bunk for them. For a second, she kept wondering why everyone kept getting up and curtsying to her. Then she remembered. She found Joe and Kayla practicing kissing. There were a fixed number of ways of kissing, and Joe claimed he could not master a number seven kiss. Joe and Kayla saw TwoFour in the dim light, and began to pull apart. Then they stopped as they recognised Jenny.

"What happened?" Kayla asked, sounding pleased.

"This slut got elevated to submissive. Pretty good, huh?" Jenny said, not quite getting out of her submissive space.

"You look great. The blowjob-red lipstick works well on you. What about the hair?" Joe asked.

Jenny turned for them to see her dress.

"Apparently, it gets dyed tomorrow, and this slut gets ear piercings, too. They will show this slut how to do that cool smoky-eyes effect. This slut has even been assigned to a corset-fitting machine. I'm hot like a Jalapeño pizza, right?"

"I'm so happy for you. Are we going to have to curtsey to you?" Kayla asked.

"Absolutely and I'm going to punish the shit out of you, if you don't." Jenny said, and paused looking at their faces, "that was a joke."

Their faces relaxed.

"Hey," Jenny said, "we have just enough time. How about finding a couple of Tobors and celebrating before curfew?"

"Well, you're the submissive, you get to order us around now," Kayla said, standing up.

The Tobors hadn't been difficult to find. There were only two, so they took turns giving the machines blowjobs, then the trio started staggering back.