Cloned Ch 01

"Stop it! STOP IT!!!!!

I think I must be going mad. This is me Zak, I know what I am saying is true."

Zak raised his eyebrows and shook his head slowly.

"Look I am sorry. I could never imagine this could be how things would turn out. My wife is downstairs watching tv and you are a model T-49 robot cloned from her."

He reached out to touch the robot's arm, but she pulled away.

"It is not true. I AM YOUR WIFE!!"

He stepped back, taken aback at the way the robot was shouting and protesting, convinced it was right.

"I can remember our life together before the robot came."

"Of course you do. You have been programmed to be a clone, you know everything she knows. We downloaded it into your memory banks."

"I don't have memory banks. I am a human being!"

Ellie clenched her fists, her arms straight by her sides. She could feel the blood pulsing in the veins of her neck. A robot doesn't have veins in its neck, she is not a robot.

Zak was nonplussed. What could he say? He felt truly sorry for the upset he had caused the model T-49, even though his brain told him it was just circuitry emulating emotion. He felt guilty. He never imagined it would actually feel anything let alone have such conviction. It was to be a complete replica of the person it was cloned as, to stand in for his wife at functions she was too busy to attend and to keep house.

Ellie stared at Zak and could not fathom how he could be so supremely confident of himself. She had had many times when she doubted whether she was in fact human. She certainly wasn't like she used to be. As a distinguished academic she had never ever had any interest in keeping the house clean and the larder stocked, and yet even now she noticed the small stain on the floor behind Zak from a wet and muddy shoe that should not be worn indoors. It nagged away at the back of her skull, and she had to fight the urge to go and mop the floor right this minute. The robot was supposed to take care of these things. That was why she had agreed to having a domesticated robot.

Maybe he was right after all. The real Ellie would never care how the house looked and would be much too busy working on a paper or talking on the internet with some collaborator. Could she understand the things Ellie was working on? She was not sure. Somehow they did make some kind of sense to her, but they also felt alien and distant. She had to shake herself out of this way of thinking.

"Why did the robot have to be a clone of me?" she asked suddenly.

"Huh?"

"I said, why did the robot have to be a clone of me?"

"Well you are a clone of my wife Ellie because that is the nature of the research I do. I combine the latest artificial intelligence systems with cloning technology. You are an experimental design to test the implanting of memories."

"So what does your wife think about having a robot steal her memories?" she was angry, this was a ridiculous notion.

"She doesn't lose her memories. It's just you have an imprint of them too. Many people who lose a loved one would give anything to have a perfect clone of them that could also share their memories."

"I mean, am I supposed to really understand her work then?"

"Not fully. I am not sure we have the technology yet for that, and besides it would have required a lot of hard training. Her work is very advanced. We opted for just a level of knowledge to get by in social occasions. You could not give a lecture in place of her or anything like that. There was no need."

Ellie had not noticed how she had slipped away again from the belief she was human and the thing downstairs watching the tv was the robot. It always seemed confusing for her and her mind drifted between these beliefs without any conscious awareness of the shift. Besides, that muddy stain on the floor was eating away at her. It was like she couldn't concentrate with part of her mind consumed by the mess she had to mop up.

"Excuse me a moment, I just need to clean that up."

She went into the kitchen and took out a mop and bucket. She felt better already, she had a sense of purpose. It bothered her when she acted without instructions. Why was she arguing? What did she hope to gain? She got an uncomfortable feeling that she was out of control, working outside her parameters. She yearned for the security of being told what to do, to still the voices of doubt in her head. She was tired of it, and having a simple task to perform meant that she knew she was doing something worthwhile. The empty rebellion made her feel so bad.

She came back out and mopped the floor, taking pride in how clean it looked. She was about to return to the kitchen to throw the dirty water, when she caught sight of Zak. He was smiling at her.

"Does that not make you feel better now?"

She knew he was right, and she hated him for seeing right through her. Why did she feel better now? The old Ellie couldn't give a toss about the cleanliness of the house. She suddenly saw how this must look to him. Yet she couldn't do a damn thing about it. The idea of any dirtiness or untidiness in the house now would just gnaw at her insides, taking her over until she could ignore it no longer. She looked down at the heavy rubber maid's costume she wore. It was inescapable. She was the robot maid after all. Her shoulders slumped.

"Look I am going to put you in the cupboard now and charge your batteries up. The downtime may help you to adjust. I really never meant to cause you any distress."

"No, no don't! I don't want to go into the cupboard. It is horrid place. I want to sleep with you."

"Things will seem better in the morning. They usually do." With that Zak picked up the remote and pointed it at her. She reached out shaking her head, desperately trying to stop him pressing the OFF button. His finger depressed the switch and her head slumped arms hanging limply by her sides.

Zak shook his head sadly. Just for a minute there... it had all sounded so convincing. He had even started to doubt himself. There were clearly dangers involved in memory downloads to a clone. Thank God he had the remote so he could distinguish them. He would have to think about that.

He put his arms under hers and pulled her across to the cupboard. She offered no resistance or any sign of comprehension of what was happening. He closed the cupboard door and went to discuss what had happened with his wife.

--o0o--

She finished dusting the sitting room and had cleaned the windows and now she needed to tidy away the study. She wandered into the room and found mistress sitting in the armchair staring out the window. She seemed to be miles away. Ellie stared at her slumped in the armchair. She knew the robot had to have some downtime in order to recharge, but she didn't know when. It must be when she was switched off she thought. She stepped gingerly into the room. She wanted to see if the robot was indeed in downtime.

It was hard moving silently as the heavy rubber maid's uniform creaked as she moved. She could feel the apron pulled tight and clipped just nestling on top of the long decline from her waist to the curve of her ass cheeks. She felt utterly humiliated, a woman of her importance, with a reputation in academic circles that stretched right across the world, standing here in a maid's uniform, tiptoeing around an inert robot. The idea popped into her head, imagine that instead of the robot, she was tiptoeing around her academic colleagues dressed in this ridiculous fashion. The thought that she might at any moment wake them and they see her for what she has become frightens and intensifies her efforts. She felt a solid hard knot forming in her throat, her temples throbbed and her chest beat frantically. Slowly the knot was slowly sinking down her gullet, entering into her stomach before descending further and finally puddling down in the narrow confines between her legs.

She told herself to pull herself together. It was utterly ridiculous for her to wet herself over the humiliation of what had happened to her. She had to stay positive, remain focused upon doing something about it. Yet it was hard, there was a part of her that had never felt this excited before. She struggled with this annoying ambivalence that hijacked her efforts to recover her former position, and the fact she had to struggle with herself both shocked and horrified her.

As she stepped tentatively into the room and stretched her neck to peer round at the robot's face to see if it would stir at all, she felt her heart stop. Suddenly out of the corner of her eye she saw the remote on a table to her left. Memories of being chased around the house by the maid, the capitulation, the dropping of the remote and watching it tumble out of her grasp flooded back to her. She knew that somehow the remote controlled one or other of them, and whoever held the remote had the upper hand. This was the moment she had been waiting for, this was her opportunity to seize control and regain her life.

She dared not move a muscle. She was weighing up whether to go on and make sure the robot was indeed inactive first or make a dive for the remote. She needed to get that remote at all costs if she was to stand a chance, and maybe just maybe this was to be her chance.

Memories flooded her: the chase, that desperate hunger to get hold of the remote, the delicious satisfaction as she had felt the weight of it drop into her palm and the overriding relief that she was in control all flooded back to her. That's right, she had been doing the chasing not the other way round. Wasn't that it? When mistress had asked her she must have handed it right back. Yet she had wanted it? Yet she was dutiful? She felt confused and conflicted. It was as if she were both being chased and doing the chasing, as if simultaneously relinquishing the remote and demanding it. Her head swam; she had to focus for if she didn't focus she would remain trapped forever.

In that moment she decided. She shifted her weight back on to her left foot and there was a creak and groan from her uniform at the sudden shift in movement. She couldn't be sure, but she thought the robot had stirred in that moment. It was now or never. She lunged for the remote swinging all her weight behind her, her legs shot in the air as she made her dive. She landed heavily on the floor and the table toppled with a crash. Her hand had closed but there was nothing within it. She looked up as she fell perplexed at why she had not the remote in her hand. She saw mistress towering above her, smiling. The remote was pointed ominously towards her.

"You never give it a rest, do you?" she said.

Suddenly, just as her heart sank, everything went black.

--o0o—

Standing motionless in the middle of the room Ellie stared straight in front of her. The bright shiny pvc skirt splayed out wide from her waist that was tightly wrapped in the same material. At her shoulders were thin straps of black shiny plastic that met the dress at bright metal rings that caught the overhead light. The big round open and suggestive loops contrasted brightly against the deep black of the pvc. The skirt of the dress ended way above her knees exposing pale legs and thighs. The material had a stiffness to it, so instead of wrapping around her from her hips it spread out wide in stiff folds that accentuated her pelvis and the cheeks of her ass. The material tickled her thighs as the seam grated against them. Her face was resolute, full of concentration maintaining her still posture.

The man moved walked around her and drank her in with his eyes. She could see the lust in them and she felt entirely on display despite the clothes she was wearing. She was confused as to why mistress had left her here. Who was this man? Why was she working for him now? Shouldn't she be at home cleaning?

Mistress had been smiling and laughing at her as she told her she was being sent away to complete her training. She had been worried that master and mistress were not happy with her work. She remembered begging mistress for another opportunity to serve them better. In her mind she could not contemplate anything other than serving them. What was her purpose? She suddenly felt very vulnerable at the whim of other people she had thought would always want her. She had never imagined she could end up being sent away. Her mind was in turmoil as she tried to think what she could have done wrong. It had been a game hadn't it: handing her the remote to play a trick on Zak. No that was days ago wasn't it? Why hadn't they traded places back again?

She recalled how her mistress' fingers had slid under her skirt while she cooed and reassured her. Those fingers were so deft, she read her mind and knew exactly what she needed: how to stroke, when to pull and where to pinch. She had been inflamed in the midst of her distress until her worries had melted away. The words of her mistress restored her calm, evened out her breathing and settled the rhythm in the rise and fall of her chest. This would make her more deeply servile than she could possibly achieve staying with them. She wanted to win the game didn't she? Show that she could do this. She wasn't going to admit she was defeated now was she? Well no, of course not. She would see it through, whatever it took to win.

The plastic material stuck straight out and offered no covering. Only the thin scratchy red thong panty offered any protection. The man circled about her like a predator ready to pounce. His hands pressed against her body and she felt a thrill at his touch. She didn't want to feel this response, part of her mind was rebelling and trying to get her legs to work, but she was transfixed waiting for the call that would allow her movement. He lifted her skirt from behind and stared at her ass cheeks. The thin strip of red material disappearing in the dark crevice between them only seemed to frame their bareness. He slapped her hard on her cheek and watched as the red imprint grew on the pale flesh. Amazing! Just like real skin, he thought. Ellie's mind worked furiously. Why was he slapping her? She hadn't done anything, she was still awaiting instructions. What on earth could she have done wrong?

She stood there motionlessly still awaiting the call which would allow her to move, as his hand slammed again and again into her fleshy cheeks. Her body roc ked with each blow, but although she felt the pain, she felt the humiliation, none of that showed on her face. Her training had locked her features so she was unable to betray the raging shame she felt inside. Finally after many blows he stopped, but what came next was worse. His hand reached out and squeezed viciously her red raw flesh. She felt her throat constrict tight so that it hurt as she forced the yelp back down.

He didn't seem to show any consideration and Ellie felt torn. Why should he? Why did it even cross her mind that he should? Yet she felt some anger at him for treating her this way. Then of course her training kicked in and she realised she was here to serve and if this is what she could do by way of service to him, then she should be happy for him to hurt her like this.

"You'll make a good obedient little whore for me, won't you? You respond quickly. Look at how wet you are down here already." She felt his fingers probing her entrance, this stranger's fingers dancing over her clit. She had been thinking of the maid fingering her and although she had not been aware, she had been secreting her love juices over the thin crotch of her thong. She felt disgusted and ashamed now to be so turned on in front of this man she barely knew. "You are programmed to be obedient, and to obey me so you will become a good slut for me. You will spend your time being fucked in any way I choose and this will now become your purpose."

It was all horribly true she was aroused and felt her heart thudding in her chest as he played with her and gave her fresh purpose. She felt reassured by having a purpose once more. The horrible doubt of a few moments before evaporated. She battled with herself though, as she still seemed to have some remnant of dignity she clung to. The idea of being a whore upset her and she felt sad, disgusted, demeaned and useless that she could not protest. Was she able to win this game? At what cost? Then again the training kicked in and she understood this was a test and one she had to overcome.

Of course I'd do it, I'd have to. I obey orders from my master. Strangely this seemed to calm her. It never mattered what she thought about, only what she was told to do. It was enough to obey promptly and efficiently. Follow your training she thought and you can't go wrong. The struggle in her head subsided. More and more she realised that the more she thought about things, the more confused and insecure she felt. She would confine herself to doing as she was told from now on.

He told her to kneel on the floor with her back to him. She sank down before him exactly as he desired. He told her to reach forward with arms spread and place first one hand and then the other on the floor before her, spreading her arms wide. She did exactly as she was told and he came round inspecting her. Her face was just inches from the floor in this position and he adjusted her arms pulling them wider and sinking her face closer to the floor. She was placed in a position bowing down before him now. He came round behind her once he was finally satisfied and told her to spread her legs and lift her ass up pleadingly for him.

He moved behind her and kicked at her ankles to push them further apart. Her face moved closer to the floor and her behind was completely in view as the short skirt of her uniform lifted away and rested on the small of her back. Finally he told her to rest her forehead on the floor with her nose against its hard surface. She was now completely at his mercy and could not even see where he was.

"This is your whore position. When I tell you whore position you will adopt this pose exactly as you have it now. Understand?"

"Yes master." She felt her arms taking weight and strain but her knees took the brunt of his attack as he launched himself upon her. He wrapped his body over her behind and his cock sank deep, deep into her and almost straight away flooded her with his cum. He was so aroused at the sight of her offering her body to him that he lost control. She felt his cum push back out around his cock and heard it dribble on the floor. She was happy. She had satisfied her master.

--o0o--

Standing in front of the sink, she washed the dishes. The sunlight streamed in through the window. She found it relaxing doing the dishes, she didn't have to worry about anything and she knew she was being useful. Today, though, her mind drifted. She thought about the days shortly after the robot had arrived. She dimly recalled being an independent minded woman who pursued her career with vigour. Now she was so insecure, she couldn't even be sure who she was or even whether she was human. She only felt reassured when given something to get on with. Her world revolved around the cleaning and the tidying and she felt a thrill of satisfaction at jobs well done and the bonus was when her mistress praised her work.

At that moment her mistress walked in and she sniggered at the sight of her. She turned towards her mistress, "Is there anything I can do for you?" she sounded demure.

She laughed. "No," and pointed the barrel of the remote at her face. All went black.