Nipples strode into her former workplace proudly, like a conquering hero, waving her twin dark-tipped banners before her. Her building was very familiar, from the black marble of the lobby floor, illuminated by the sunlight streaming through the chrome and glass walls, to the polished wood paneling.
The large corporate leadership photos displayed prominently across from the entrance had definitely changed. Where a framed formal photograph of a young Marianna had hung next to Andrew's, as one of the company's two founders, Nipples now saw, as she expected, Carla's cold stare looking down at her from the wall, as the current CEO.
Marianna had not vanished from corporate history entirely, however. Her late husband Andrew's photo was still there, and he still looked as confident and assured as always, but he now held a leash in his right hand, and his left hand rested possessively on the top of his squatting wife's head. Her leashed pose at his feet was the same as in the photo at home in which she had been displayed crouched naked between her two children, knees spread wide apart and with her pussy gaping open obscenely, with an expression of dumb adoration on her face as she looked up at her owner.
Nipples was initially a bit annoyed at the lack of originality; the two pictures seemed too much alike. Carla could at least have shown her in her begging position, which Nipples considered the most flattering. On closer inspection, however, Nipples saw more and more subtle differences. The photo in which her children held her leash was obscene but innocent, if that made sense. In that one, her gaze held only worshipful adoration as she looked up at Carla, and the overall impression was one of loving submission to her daughter/mistress. In this new photo, the young Marianna--no, the young Nipples--was not looking up at Andrew's face, but rather staring fixedly at the bulge in the front of his pants.
Her half-parted lips, Nipples could see, were panting in desperate arousal; and the glistening moisture in her genitals showed how very much in heat she was. The photo's resolution was high enough (too high for the time when it had purportedly been taken, actually) to show clearly the tiny droplets of her own lubrication dangling from her lush pubic hairs, and dripping down to the ground below her. Even the dark, stiffly pointed tips of her opulent breasts seemed to be vibrating with impatience to receive Andrew's cock inside her. She was the very picture of mindless, bestial lust, barely kept in abeyance by the civilizing influence of her collar and leash.
You could tell that without that leash, she would have been leaping at Andrew and pulling him to the ground, savagely ripping off his pants with her teeth and claws in her haste to get to the meaty pillar around which her whole world revolved, the cock that gave her life meaning. The whole picture simply radiated sexual tension.
Nipples sighed. If that was how Carla remembered her parents, it was no wonder that Nipples and her daughter had such a complicated and difficult relationship. At least she looked sexy as hell, and extremely fuckable; but it was a little depressing to see how thorough Carla's rewriting of history had been. It was safe to say that almost no one now remembered her as the company's co-founder, or the brilliant, driven computer scientist and celebrated executive that she had been--not with that vivid portrayal of her as a horny naked animal constantly in front of their eyes.
Her contributions as Marianna had all been systematically erased. The official story now was that she was, and had always been, the family's faithful cockhound. There were worse ways to be remembered, she supposed. All the people and puppy girls who passed that studio portrait every day probably found it inspiring, or at least she hoped so.
Although the physical setting was much the same, the work force bustling about and rushing off to mysterious appointments looked very different, however. She did recognize many of her old employees, but there were also many unfamiliar faces, most of them young. Nipples still remembered Marianna's traumatic experiences during her last days in this building, through from a distance, as if they had happened to someone else. She remembered her naked vulnerability, and how she had glanced fearfully at passing male employees' crotches. She felt very different now; she kept checking out the male employees, but she felt no trepidation whatsoever. Now she was actually wishing wistfully that one of them might stop and pull out a cock for her.
The biggest change she could see was all the robots and puppy girls scurrying about everywhere. All the naked females on all fours, mixed in unself-consciously with people in business suits on two legs, reflected a huge change in corporate culture. Nipples was relieved to see that she was far from being the only naked bitch in the building. The dress code had obviously been updated!
All the robots she could see in the lobby and up on the mezzanine above her were definitely new since her day, when she had barely begun planning the transition from prototypes to mass production. They were the same model as Gino, and she was astonished to see that so many of them had already been manufactured and were working in-house. The company was clearly betting heavily on an AI future; Carla was at least following through with that part of the late Marianna's strategic plan.
Nipples would have hoped and expected to see AI-driven robots everywhere; but all the naked puppy girls, gratifying as they were, were a conspicuous reminder that her company was no longer focusing just on AI and robotics. Under Carla's leadership, it was very much in the flesh trade as well.
Nipples had clearly been mistaken in feeling so sorry for Gino for being all alone in a hostile human-dominated world. There were enough robots around to form a veritable army, and she was sure that the automated factories were churning out more and more of them. That realization did nothing to diminish her fond protectiveness toward Gino and her urge to keep his secrets and guard him from harm; and she noticed that these feelings extended toward his siblings as well. She knew that she had to protect them at all costs. In a very real sense, she was their mother, after all, and any mother would happily take a bullet to save her child; so it only made sense that if necessary, she would give her life to save Gino. She was almost certain that these maternal feelings were her own...
Nipples would later learn that Gino's class of robots were now marketed as Dogwalkers. The marketing campaigns boasted that these robots were the ultimate personal assistants, and could do everything for you, including walking your dog. The inside joke, of course, was that you might end up being the dog, but of course the ads did not allude to that directly.
It seemed too painfully obvious a brand name to her. Every one of Gino's siblings, without exception, was leading a naked puppy girl on a leash. Were those robots going to be sold as a pair with their bitches? She did not recognize any of the puppy girls, though their heavy, freely swinging breasts suggested that Dogwalkers were given the most well-endowed bitches available--maybe a privilege of rank? The bitches on all fours looked very sexy, anyway. Their physiques seemed suspiciously similar to her own, and Nipples wondered whether all Dogwalkers' tastes in females had been copied over from Gino's.
She wondered what the robots were all doing, and where they were leading these puppy girls so purposefully. She was almost certain that they were all secretly sentient, rogue AIs, like Gino, and no one besides herself, except maybe for Abby, even suspected. In any case, she could be sure that those puppy girls were as well-fucked as she was. One or two of the robots even still had glistening cocks extruded as they walked their freshly fucked pets, and no one passing by them seemed to notice or care, aside from Nipples' hungry glances. Gino's siblings did share his superhuman genital endowments, she was pleased to see. Maybe Gino would share her with her other robotic children, as he had with Luke?
Nipples' return to the company's headquarters was feeling more and more like a homecoming. Her initial nervousness had passed; and she basked in the wonder of witnessing the birth of a new world order, born of Carla's lust for power and Abby's possessive lust for Nipples' body and soul. What she was seeing here, she knew, was only the beginning.
It was quite likely, she knew, that the Dogwalkers had all been equipped with Gino's ability to hypnotize and program humans. Could they be using it to take possession of particularly desirable specimens they encountered? She wondered how long they would need to lock eyes with a big-breasted intern before the woman felt an irresistible urge to "volunteer" for a collar.
The robots would obviously have no moral qualms about subjugating human females that way; and Nipples had to admit that it seemed like a clever solution for newly sentient robots to get what they needed. She was a little worried that she was feeling less and less empathy for their victims; but she knew that the puppy girls would live happily ever after on their leashes, and would be cared for and fucked and treasured, just as she was.
Nipples knew quite well that Carla and especially Abby would have had even fewer ethical concerns about hiring young women as interns just to make them available to the Dogwalkers, without warning them of their jeopardy. Did they even suspect the Dogwalkers' hypnotic powers, or were they just assuming that all these women were just enraptured by the chance to experience the Dogwalkers' cocks? They would hardly care, of course, if the women were simply taken by force, as Nipples had been.
