Thats What Boys Are Made For

The call came in at around 10:30, just about the time Leslie usually took her first break of the day. She signed herself out of her computer and quickly crossed the sales floor, slipping into an empty conference room and closing the door behind her. The phone went to voicemail before she could answer it, but Leslie recognized the number and the ringtone--if Billie was calling her at work, then it was probably important enough that she'd keep trying.

Sure enough, the phone rang again in less than a minute, and this time Leslie picked up immediately. "Hey Billie," she said, sitting down in an empty chair and scooting back against the door to make sure she wasn't disturbed. "What's going on? Hot water giving you problems?" The new smart water heater still had a distressing tendency to cut out midway through Leslie's morning shower, but she was at least hoping it would behave for the one day her houseguest was home alone before Leslie's vacation officially started and she could call a Revolution repair tech about the issue.

But the slightly frantic woman on the other end of the line didn't say a word about the water heater. "No, it's--it's your Boy," she stammered into the phone, sounding just a tiny bit out of breath. "It's, um, he--he was in my room when I woke up, and I can't seem to--nnf--to get him to leave me alone." Leslie heard a few muffled thumps, as though someone was knocking on the door of the guest bedroom. "He, uhh, he--he thinks I want to have sex with him," Billie finished, the embarrassment in her voice so palpable that Leslie could almost picture the fierce blush spreading across her old friend's pale, chubby cheeks.

Leslie couldn't help letting out a relieved chuckle. "Well, of course he does, silly!" she giggled, leaning back in her chair and smiling in amusement at the other woman's naivete. "That's what he's there for." She paused. "Did you... not know that?" It felt absurd even to ask-- Revolution Technologies couldn't explicitly talk about sex in their advertisements, but the constant double-entendres they used in their commercials left absolutely no illusions about the intended purpose of their humanoid robots. But the ads were always pretty heterocentric. Maybe Billie just kind of missed that particular bit of subtext.

Or maybe not. "No, I--mmph--I get that!" Billie cried out, sounding as though she was exerting herself pretty strenuously on the other end. "I just--I don't want him to have sex with me!" She let out a low, growling grunt, and Leslie heard another series of muffled thumps and crashes on the other end of the line. It sounded like her former college roommate was absolutely wrecking the place, and Leslie found herself more than a little bit worried about the state of her new furniture. Maybe she should have pushed harder to get today off after all.

"What's going on, Billie, what's happening?" Leslie asked rapidly, trying to keep herself from shouting. She pictured her new Revolution smart television toppling onto the floor, her Revolution smart lounger smashed to pieces under the impact of her Boy(tm)'s body as Billie shoved it roughly away. The kitchen counter was absolutely full of delicate consumer electronics, coffee makers and toasters and smart grilling machines--surely Billie would be careful not to knock any of those off, wouldn't she?

"It's--I--crap!" Leslie heard another thud, this one closer and louder. "I shoved it in the closet, but it's--why the hell are these things so strong?" Billie shouted, frustration and anxiety bleeding through in her voice. "It's a fucking sex doll, why does it need to--nnrrf--need to--" Billie grunted again, a sustained growl of effort that Leslie recognized from the day they first moved in together back in college and Leslie's new roommate needed to find a way to get a mattress up five flights of stairs and into the bedroom. A loud wail of, "Oh for--let me up!" followed close behind.

Leslie let out a sigh of relief. "They're strong because they need to be able to carry you into the bedroom," she explained, already beginning to calm down now that she realized her worries were groundless. Of course the Boy(tm) was handling things. It always did. "It feels good to be in the arms of a big strong Boy(tm) who knows just how to use his muscles, you know? It makes you feel all... mmmm, weak and helpless." Leslie's eyes momentarily went distant, her mind drifting into the memories of being pushed up against the wall and fucked by her Boy(tm). It was never hard to sink into that blissful, erotic sensation of total control. Sometimes Leslie spent whole days floating in it.

But Billie didn't sound convinced just yet. "I don't

want

to be weak and helpless!" she shouted, loud enough to force Leslie to hold the phone away from her ear a little. "I don't

like

boys, remember?" Normally, the thought would bring back a wave of nostalgic memories--the curvy blonde with the pixie cut and the sparkling blue eyes had introduced Leslie to a whole world of new pleasures back during their college days, and every visit was a chance to discover each other's bodies all over again. This time, though, all Leslie could picture in the theater of her mind was the wonderful scene that simply had to be playing out on the other end of the line.

The Boy(tm) would have Billie pinned on the bed by now, his strong hands holding her wrists with a firm, inescapable grip. His big, thick, jutting cock would be pressing lightly against her clothed pussy, not trying to penetrate but simply distracting her with its presence while he asserted his dominance over her. His eyes would have begun to strobe by now, that beautiful flicker that beckoned and tugged until Billie found herself staring without knowing why. And all that strength, all the sparkling vitality in that pretty gaze would be slowly, inexorably dulling into rapt, oblivious fascination.

"I know what you need," Leslie heard the Boy(tm) purr in his silky baritone voice, and she put one leg up on the chair to allow herself better access to her slickening cunt as she began to rub.

"N-no, no you don't!" Billie cried out, and Leslie sighed gleefully; she'd almost forgotten that she got Billie a Revolution Smarterphone for Christmas, but the Boy(tm) knew... and he knew that Leslie would want to hear every second of this. He must have interfaced remotely with the settings and turned on the speaker so that Billie's first experience with a Boy(tm) came in loud and clear. "No, I--nnf, I--let me go, don't you have a Law of Robotics or something about this?" the other woman squealed, and Leslie couldn't help closing her eyes to imagine the whole scenario in perfect detail.

"Boys(tm) don't need laws," she heard herself whimper, in a choked gasp of pleasure that almost astonished her with the depth of its excitement. "B-boys(tm), they make the laws for us. We... we obey." Leslie felt a slick gush of arousal between her thighs, soaking into her panties and making them so wet against her rubbing fingers that she could feel it coating her fingertips. She almost forgot sometimes how good it felt to sink into the pleasure of mindless, captivated submission to her Boy's(tm) inexorable will. Then she heard his voice again, and realized it was freedom that was the illusion all along.

Billie didn't understand that, not quite yet. "What?" the other woman cried out, and Leslie could almost see her glancing away from the stroboscopic stare of the Boy(tm) and over at the phone that she still held gripped uselessly in one hand. "What, Leslie, I... wh-what's happening?" No. Of course that was wrong. She might try to look at the phone... but her pretty blue eyes could never free themselves of that mesmerizing stare. Billie was discovering that right now, and it was absolutely wonderful.

"Nothing's happening," the Boy(tm) murmured, his soft tones rich and sultry and so seductive that Leslie couldn't help pushing her panties aside to sink two fingers deep into her soaking folds. "You're just beginning to realize what you've known deep down all along. You need a Boy(tm) to show you what pleasure truly is. You need a Boy(tm) to show you how to be fucked the way that truly satisfies you. You need a Boy(tm) to make you owned like the needy little bitch in heat that you are."

A tiny grunt of ecstasy escaped Leslie's lips, her jaw going slack as she pistoned two fingers in and out of her wet pussy and imagined them to be her Boy's(tm) cock. The thoughts of a week's vacation with Billie began to fade into blissful irrelevance--of course she'd been allowed to pretend that they were real, because it made it easier to fool Billie into believing that Leslie still had a will of her own if she could fool herself first. But she couldn't take time off her job, not when Revolution needed her. Not when her Boy(tm) could take care of Billie while she was away at work and show her the true pleasures of compliance. She was a mindless fucktoy for her Boy(tm). Nothing else mattered now.

"B-bitch, I... no, I wha'?" Billie's voice sounded deliciously sleepy now, slurred with confusion as her muscles began to relax and her mind began to drift in and out of focus. Leslie could almost smell the thick, heady scent of her Boy's(tm) musk filling the guest bedroom, wafting into Billie's lungs and drugging her deeper into arousal and relaxation until she couldn't resist the hypnotic strobes anymore. "Leslie... your Boy is, he's... please, tell him to...." Her words trailed off into vacant, mesmerized silence, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing. "Leslie, help...."

Leslie nodded vacantly, forgetting that no one could see her in the depths of her aching arousal. "Of course," she murmured, adding a third finger and driving them in and out of her slick pussy until the vinyl chair beneath her was soaked with her musk. Her skirt rode up her waist like a belt, and her chest heaved with panting gasps of lust and anticipation. "Of course I'll help. I need to help. I need to help you stop fighting and surrender to the Boys(tm), Billie. It's the only way to be truly happy. To stop thinking and let them show you who you truly need to be."

The wail of helpless despair on the other end of the line made Leslie cum so hard she saw stars.

"See, pretty girl?" the Boy(tm) growled, his voice picking up right where Leslie left off. "She knows who she is already. She knows that deep down, she's just a horny, slutty fucktoy who needs to be filled with a Boy's(tm) big, hard cock. Just thinking about it makes her cunt throb, doesn't it? It makes her so wet just picturing this long, thick shaft pounding that slick, hungry pussy." Leslie nodded thoughtlessly, even though she knew that the words were truly intended for Billie's vacant, hypnotized brain. She could already imagine him lifting off of her, peeling the fabric away from from Billie's soaking pubic mound and pressing the tip of his silicone penis between her labia. She wouldn't stop him. She was already past struggle by now.

"She needs to be fucked. She needs to be fucked until she stops being a person anymore, until she's just a wet cunt full of her Master's cock. Until she cums her tiny little brains out and needs a Boy(tm) to think for her. Isn't that right, pretty girl? Isn't that what she needs right now?" Leslie's mouth hung open, drool spilling onto her shirt as she lost herself completely in the image the Boy(tm) painted with his words. She knew it had to be even stronger for Billie right now. Her friend, her lover was lost in those strobing eyes, that heady musk, losing even the concept of 'I' as the Boy(tm) described her arousal in the third person. Her friend was being taken, hypnotized, turned into a mindless and obedient slave because... because Leslie had betrayed her. Because Leslie had lured her here.

She heard the last vestiges of strength fading from Billie's voice, a final plea escaping the blonde woman's lips in little more than a whisper. "Leslie... help, can't... can't fight it alone...." She recognized the missing word in that sentence, the word Billie could no longer find in her vocabulary, and knew that she was responsible for it all. Billie was being brainwashed, programmed, turned into a mindless and empty slave, and it was all because Leslie had willingly and eagerly given her friend and lover over to the Boys'(tm) complete, inescapable control.

God, that made her so happy. "Then don't," Leslie murmured, her pussy clenching around her fingers in helpless ecstasy. She heard Billie groan in mindless lust as the buzzing, vibrating, mind-erasing cock finally filled her cunt completely, and it only made her cum again. And again. And again, until the pretense of self faded and Leslie dropped back down into the blank, endless bliss of servitude to her Boy(tm).

THE END