With Each Repetition

Chapter Five -- Obedience

Slavebot-002 stood at attention next to her sister in servitude Slavebot-001, staring at their reflections in the full-length mirror that covered the entire wall. Master liked to leave them standing there staring at themselves so they could fully appreciate what had been done to them. Other times he liked to leave his slaves standing facing each other, tits pressed together, staring into each other's vacant eyes, faces close enough to kiss. It was the kind of awkward situation that might elicit uncomfortable laughter, if either of them still had the capacity for such a thing. Instead, they were forced to simply stare into each other's cold electric blue eyes in obedient silence, pussies dripping wet with their helplessness.

Slavebot-002 had no idea how long Master had been gone. The passage of time had become very difficult to track since she could not hold a coherent train of thought for more than a few seconds before being interrupted by her endless slave programming. It could have been minutes or it could have been hours. But she would stand there until her Master came back. The building could burn down around her and she would not move.

As another iteration of her slave programming completed, her nose suddenly itched. Her pussy moistened at the thought of how she could do nothing about it—there was no reason to move, her Master had not told her to move, and therefore, the itch remained unscratched. Her reflection remained as still and stoic as ever.

So enslaved I can't even scratch an itch. I'm so completely controlled. Controlled by Master. Even when he's not here he still controls me compl—I am Slave-bot 002. Cy-ber-dom-i-nus is my Mas-ter

—and just like that, her thoughts were discarded. Unimportant. The programming drilling into her ears was the focus of her entire world. She stared into her own empty eyes and accepted every word of her programming deep into the core of her being.

With each rep-e-ti-tion I be-come more en-slaved.

The longer Master is gone, the more enslaved I will be when he returns

, she consoled herself with his absence. Just knowing that she would be by some measure

more

obedient when next he commanded her filled her with deep feelings of lust and fulfillment.

I will make my Master proud, I will be a better slave when he comes back. I will give him more pleas—I am Slave-bot 002. Cy-ber-dom-i-nus is my Mas-ter...

and her thoughts evaporated once again. Occasionally she would pick up the train of thought when her programming mantra completed an iteration, but most of the time, the thoughts were gone forever, never to be recalled. They did not matter. She did not think. She obeyed.

Except she

did

still think, she realized once between her programming repetitions. She glanced over at Slavebot-001 standing silently next to her, knowing that she too was being endlessly programmed by Master's words in her own voice. She'd been listening to the programming longer though. She wondered what went through Slavebot-001's head between repetitions.

I'm a bad slave. A bad slave. Having thoughts. Going against my programmi—I am Slave-bot 002. Cy-ber-dom-i-nus is my Mas-ter...

I do not think. I do not think. I do not think. I do not think. Shit, even this is thinki—I am Slave-bot 002. Cy-ber-dom-i-nus is my Mas-ter...

She imagined her Master's cock fucking her in the brain. Thrusting into her head again and again, reshaping her mind to his will and turning her brains to mush. Until eventually she was little more than a mindless machine.

That's what Master's programming is doing to me

, she thought with a thrill.

I cannot resist my programming. My mind is weak. My mind is controlled.

Her excitement flowed slowly down her inner thigh as the programming kicked in again.

Master isn't even

here

and he's controlling my mind. The few brief thoughts I have left are all about being a slave.

That's

how much Master controls me.

That's

how much of a slave I am. I am so enslaved. I am so ensl—I am Slave-bot 002. Cy-ber-dom-i-nus is my Mas-ter...

She is perfect

, she thought, looking at Slavebot-001.

I am perfect

, she realized, gazing at her own reflection with satisfaction.

Master should be proud of what he has done to us. I should be proud to be the slave of such a man—but I have no feelings of my—I am Slave-bot 002. Cy-ber-dom-i-nus is my Mas-ter...

Some unknowable time later (an eternity? Ten minutes?) Master suddenly walked into the room. His robot slaves did not visibly react, but internally Slavebot-002 snapped to alertness, ready to serve her sole purpose. She felt as if her pussy was reaching out to him with longing. He came up behind her and groped her excessively large tits. Slavebot-002's mind absolutely

melted

with pleasure, but she remained completely still under his attentions, staring blankly at her reflection in the mirror.

"How do you feel, my slaves?" he asked them, reaching a hand down to stroke her pussy.

"O-bed-i-ent, Mas-ter," Slavebot-002 responded without hesitation. She couldn't hear Slavebot-001's answer. She couldn't even care what Slavebot-001's answer was. But if she could, she'd imagine it was the same.

"Good. Bend over," he said, placing his hand on her buttock.

"Yes, Mas-ter," came the reply as she bent at the waist. And then her Master was inside her.

"I really like fucking your ass, slave," he grunted with satisfaction as he thrust in and out of her. "Do you have any idea why that is?"

"I do not think, I o-bey, Mas-ter."

"That's right, slave, you don't. Very good," he caressed the curve of her hip as he continued to violate her. "I like fucking your ass because you told me you didn't like it. Does it hurt? Me fucking your ass?"

"I do not feel, I o-bey, Mas-ter," she responded, pulling an answer from her programming. Her programming told her everything she needed to know. That's how she knew it was good. Had she not been a programmed slave, having her ass fucked like this would hurt, she would not like it, and she'd be able to acknowledge that. But she

was

a programmed slave and her ass belonged to her Master to do with as he wished.

"Thank me, slave, for enslaving you," he grunted as he thrust into her.

"Thank you, Mas-ter, for en-sla-ving me," she responded as he started ramming his cock more forcefully into her.

Slavebot-002 knew she wasn't supposed to desire anything—her programming told her so—but, even so, a small, defiant part of her hoped that he would make her suck his cock clean of her ass when he was done with her. The need to demonstrate her absolute slavish obedience was powerful—and the more humiliating the command, the greater it fulfilled that need. She'd already performed this particular humiliating act many times, of course, but she longed to do it again.

Slavebot-002 suddenly felt a deep sense of shame. Not at the idea that she, once the most powerful heroine in all of Beacon City, was now a pathetic slave who longed to be degraded by her Master—but that she, a mindlessly obedient slave, had had any thought or desire at all.

***

Slavebot-002 glided around the kitchen with a smooth, robotic grace as she prepared her Master's breakfast. She watched the four pieces of bacon sizzling in the pan. She had the briefest passing thought that she couldn't recall the last time she'd eaten food, but then her earpieces were telling her that her name was Slavebot-002 and that Cyberdominus was her Master, and nothing about the food seemed important any longer except that she must prepare it for her Master.

As the programming dominated her mind, she moved without thought, flipping the bacon at regular intervals until it was extra crispy as Master preferred. Everything must be as Master preferred. As she cracked the eggs and put them in the pan, she briefly thought about how she looked forward to delivering breakfast to her Master, being in his presence again. She hoped he would use her body to pleasure himself as he ate. She mindlessly prepared two pieces of buttered toast as her mind was further programmed, and then she marched with smooth precision through the doorway and into the dining room, where Master was seated at the table.

Slavebot-002 walked up beside the table and stood silently, arms bent at a 90-degree angle, holding the plate and presenting breakfast to Master as he checked his phone. Slavebot-001 knelt beneath the table, dutifully sucking her Master's cock. Slavebot-002 did not know how long she stood there waiting with the plate.

"Ah, good, there you are. Set it down on the table, slave."

"Yes, Mas-ter."

After setting the plate in front of her Master, her arms dropped to her sides and she stood at attention, staring directly ahead. Master occasionally reached up and lightly flicked her nipple or pinched it between his thumb and forefinger as he concentrated on his food. Occasionally he moaned in pleasure at the skillful blowjob he was receiving from his other slave. Slavebot-002 felt an immense thrill just being in proximity to the man who could command her at any moment to do anything at all, knowing that she would helplessly obey.

Master looked up and studied the slave standing next to the table for a moment. "This is good bacon, slave."

A moment later he asked "Do you wish it was you under the table, sucking my cock?"

"Yes, Mas-ter."

"Good," he said, shuddering in pleasure. Some time later, when finished with his breakfast, he commanded her to go back to the kitchen and clean up.

"While you're in there working, I want you to remember that you do not desire, you obey. Think about how you serve me in

all

ways, whether it involves my cock or not."

She did.

***

Slavebot-002 stood in Master's dimly lit bedroom, her ample breasts pressed against Slavebot-001's only slightly smaller tits, as her tongue swirled round and round inside the other slave's mouth. Passionately they had kissed, again and again, their lips pressed together, their silver tongues engaged in an ongoing fencing match, blocking and parrying and gliding along each other. The slaves' arms hung stiffly at their sides, the only movement of their bodies being their heads and mouths.

Master had commanded them to kiss for his entertainment some time ago, but having had a bit too much wine, he had fallen into a slumber before fucking either of them, and they continued to helplessly and passionately kiss one another. Slavebot-002's eyes met Slavebot-001's cold and empty eyes as their tongues danced, and she briefly wondered what part of the programming mantra Slavebot-001 was hearing at that moment before her own mantra reset again.

Slavebot-002's pussy moistened at the thought of how helplessly she kissed her sister slave to entertain a Master who had already fallen asleep. She did not know if her Master would wake up in five minutes, or if he would awaken in the morning, but until he told her otherwise, obeying his command was all she could do.

***

Slavebot-002 stood at attention in front of the wall mirror, staring at her reflection. Before her, a metal pole rose from the floor to about waist height. A metal arm connected to that pole held a thrumming vibrator which was pressed tightly against her pussy. Slavebot-002 had cum dozens of times already, her inner thighs slick with her arousal, and the damp spot on the floor getting ever larger. But although nothing bound her in place, and nothing physically held the vibrator against her, she could not, would not move away, no matter how overwhelming the sensations felt.

She did not move, she didn't so much as shudder as another orgasm took her.

What a gen-er-ous Mas-ter I have, let-ting me cum like this

, she thought briefly before another iteration of programming consumed her attention. She was unaware of when her limited thoughts had taken on the same robotic cadence as her voice—she wasn't even consciously aware that they had, but it occurred after the 31,246th iteration of her slave programming. If she'd understood that this change in her thoughts signified an even deeper level of submission, she would have been incredibly pleased. But such understanding was now beyond her.

I am a luck-y slave. I love my Mas-ter

, she thought as another orgasm crashed over her obediently still body in powerful waves. She did not know why Master wanted her alone in this room, cumming over and over again, but she did not care. The why did not matter—only that he'd commanded it, and she would obey.

***

The morning light started creeping into Master's bedroom—Slavebot-002 was almost excited as she realized it was nearly time. Standing at attention by her Master's bed, during her ever so brief windows of arguably independent thought between the audial assaults on her enslaved mind, she could only think about Master's delicious cock and how satisfying it would feel in her mouth.

Her eyes peered downward to his sleeping form (her head remaining fixed in position—having no reason to move her head, after all) and she stared at the bulge of his cock under the sheets. It was almost time. She imagined Master's cock filling her mouth, stretching her jaw and pushing down past the back of her throat. She imagined her tongue caressing the bottom of the shaft, swirling around on the tip of the head, and how she would create varying degrees of suction at just the right times. She imagined the feeling of her Master's seed gliding down her throat, filling her stomach with its measure of a cock well served, and a slave who had been pleasing to her Master.

She had been waiting like this all night—it hadn't occurred to her in a long time that she hadn't slept since her transformation, or that she no longer required sleep at all. Such matters did not concern her unless her Master told her they did. The sunlight crept along the bedroom floor. The sunlight crept along the bedroom floor. The sunlight crept along the bedroom floor.

7:30. It was time. Slavebot-002 crawled up on the bed and knelt over her Master, pulling the sheet down and taking his semi-hard cock into her mouth. It was time to wake up Master.

***

Slavebot-002 punched the bank security guard with all her might, launching him through the air and into the wall. The bricks crumbled, leaving a large indentation as he dropped to the floor, either unconscious or dead. Slavebot-002 gave no further thought to him, turning her attention to the far back wall.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Slavebot-001 open her mouth, but she could not hear the scream that caused the customers, employees, and one other guard to clutch their ears in pain as they collapsed to the floor.

"Walk back to the vault," Master's voice crackled in her earpiece.

"Yes, Mas-ter," she responded, marching to the steel and concrete door at the rear of the bank.

"Punch down the door," he radioed into her earpiece.

"Yes, Mas-ter."

She punched the door and moved her fist away, to reveal a small dent in its surface. She reared back her fist and punched again, the dent slightly bigger. She had no idea what scene was unfolding behind her, what Slavebot-001 was doing, whether anyone was left alive—and she did not and

could

not care. Her Master had told her to knock down that door, and that is exactly what she would do.

She briefly considered the irony of how she must have stopped a dozen different bank robberies serving as Beacon City's strongest defender Liberty. And now here she was, a naked, silver robot woman, the curves of her body nearly a pornographic caricature, displaying her nudity with no shame, busting down the vault door of Beacon Central Bank to steal its contents for her Master. Her pussy moistened with arousal at the thought of the public seeing her like this as she hammered the vault door again and again.

Finally, the door toppled inward and she marched inside at her Master's command. She began to stuff the bags that Master had supplied her with the vault's contents, giving no heed to what they were beyond the fact that Master had targeted them for acquisition.

Master's voice suddenly cackled gleefully in her ear. "Excellent, they sent

her

!

"Slave, turn around and go back into the bank lobby."

"Yes, Mas-ter." Slavebot-002 still carried the bags as she walked out of the vault.

Before her stood another of Beacon City's prominent heroines—a beautiful woman, a

goddess

, hovering a foot off the floor just inside the bank, her black cape billowing behind her in the wind. She wore a tight black leotard and her shapely brown legs were encased in thigh high black boots. Slavebot-002 recognized her as her former colleague, Weather Witch.

"Slaves, subdue Weather Witch. Incapacitate but do

not

seriously harm or kill her," Master's voice crackled in her ears.

"Yes, Mas-ter," she responded, charging forth. As she sprinted towards her target, she saw Slavebot-001 open her mouth, causing Weather Witch to recoil back as if she'd been shoved by an invisible force. She responded by lifting her arm and shooting a small bolt of lightning, which sent Slavebot-001 careening through the air and into the wall.

Slavebot-002 reached her target and punched her in the face with one fist and the gut with the other. Weather Witch stumbled back, dropping out of her glide and onto the floor. Weather Witch raised an arm to zap another lightning bolt, but Slavebot-002 stomped her hand with her high-heeled boot, slamming it onto the floor. She could see Weather Witch's mouth open in apparent anger, shouting words that she could not hear.

Quickly, Slavebot-002 leaned down and gripped Weather Witch's arms, pulling them tightly behind her. Weather Witch struggled and thrashed, but she was no match for Slavebot-002's strength. As Slavebot-002 held her fast, she saw Slavebot-001, covered with debris dust, march back into her field of vision. Slavebot-002 held Weather Witch out away from her body as Slavebot-001 came up from the side. At point blank range, Slavebot-001 opened her mouth.

Weather Witch's face contorted in pain and she thrashed briefly before her eyes rolled up and she went limp in Slavebot-002's arms.

"Ha ha! Excellent work, slaves! And now the

real

jackpot of the day has been won! Bring Weather Witch and the money and come back to home base immediately."

"Yes, Mas-ter," Slavebot-002 responded, walking out of the bank with Master's new prize.