Job Seeking

Copyright Oggbashan April 2018/ August 2019

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

The story relates to my earlier story Golem but is set several years later. It isn't necessary to read Golem first because this story stands alone.

*****

This is the account of our interaction with humanoid femdom experimental robots.

We will each write our own views of what happened. I'm Hester, married to Stuart, and I'll start:

Hester

Our marriage is in trouble. I'm the boss in this relationship. Stuart had always accepted that since we first became boyfriend and girlfriend. He doesn't object to my control and used to enjoy being my victim in our sexual games.

He didn't mind that I earned slightly more than he did. When we married it was a marginal difference but gradually my earnings outstripped his. I became more indispensable at the local factory that makes mannequins and animated sex dolls. At first I was just a skilled assembly worker working some shifts while I studied for my degree in computing.

But Professor Wald, the research and development manager, started using my skills as an assembly worker and as a computer programmer. When I obtained my degree he insisted that I should be one of his research assistants. I understood Professor Wald better than most and could follow his abstruse thought patterns. Two years ago he persuaded the company to appoint me as his deputy research manager and designated successor when he finally retires.

We were developing more and more sophisticated sex dolls. At first most of them were fairly crude devices by our current standards. They had a limited range of movements, a basic vocabulary and most were built as blonde bimbos to be used only in the bedroom.

I was using Stuart as a test pilot for new or improved models. Many times he was thrusting into the latest bimbo doll while she cried "Harder! Faster! Give me all you've got!". I was watching and taking notes of her performance, not his.

Sometimes he objected because he was tired.

"Do I have to, Hester?" he would say.

If I thought he was not as tired as he claimed I might order him to make love to the doll anyway, but usually I accepted his refusal. Part of our relationship is that I know just how far I can push Stuart before he has had enough.

Our lovemaking is nothing like his activities with the experimental dolls. He is almost always my victim, sometimes bound to the bed, even gagged and blindfolded as I ride him as long as I want to.

Graham Jones' unusual request for a femdom robot changed our research significantly. We had already produced much more responsive (and expensive) submissive female androids for our customers. We had thought about producing a female android domme but had only made one. We had named her SHE after Sir H Rider Haggard's novels with the heroine 'She Who Must Be Obeyed'. Stuart really enjoyed testing SHE. She ordered him around, tied him up, and rode him. I had to be present every time SHE was activated. The safety devices built into SHE were untried. SHE could easily have tied Stuart into a helpless bundle or used him too hard. We modified and improved SHE over several years.

Stuart loved SHE despite her lack of sophistication compared with the eventual domme Eleanor we made for Mr Jones' detailed requirements.

At the time Eleanor was the ultimate model we had ever designed. In theory Graham Jones should have been 'topping from the bottom' with Eleanor only controlling him as he directed. That went wrong and Eleanor really overwhelmed him and his returning human partner Elaine. The problem was overcome and as far as we know Mr and Mrs Jones and Eleanor are still a successful ménage-a-trois. Eleanor's software is updated from time to time but her personality remains as originally designed and modified by constant interaction with Mr and Mrs Jones. Eleanor can and does learn.

Over the last few years we had diversified into other robotic products. What we had produced in Eleanor had opened up many more possibilities. We now had a range of domestic robots that could do cleaning, cooking - and sex. We had a couple of care worker androids. They were fairly basic. They could lift their owner in and out of bed, dress them, feed them, take them to and from a toilet, and most importantly act as a companion.

That is enough about me and my work. My current problem is Stuart.

He was a site manager for a local house building company and good at his job. About a year ago that company closed down because they couldn't get planning permission for the only land they owned. No permission meant no houses being built; no houses being built meant no income for the company; no income meant the company was no longer able to trade. As a family owned company with no debts it just stopped trading but still existed. So Stuart became unemployed in a town which has high unemployment already.

He tried to find other work but he was competing with many others. No company within a fifty mile radius was building houses and those beyond fifty miles already had all the people they wanted. Stuart tried for other jobs, almost any job that he could possibly or even potentially do. After six months his lack of success was affecting him seriously. He was depressed. His motivation was slipping away.

The family finances could cope. My increasing salary and his while he was in work had meant that we had paid off our mortgage several years ago. We owned our large house and land outright. My salary was enough for us to live comfortably. But that made Stuart's depression worse because he knew that he didn't have to work.

We could do better than survive on my income alone. He felt useless.

For the last couple of months he was useless. He had lost all his energy. He was little help around the house. I had to tell him exactly what to do every day, including his personal hygiene. He was worse than useless in bed. He couldn't even produce an erection to test our female androids. His inability deepened his depression which was now diagnosed as 'reactive' i.e. as a reaction to the situation in which he found himself. If that situation could change, his depression would slowly end. But while he wasn't even trying to find work he had lost all hope.

Stuart's depression was affecting me. What could I do? I couldn't shout at him, tell him to snap out of it, to get moving. That would only make him worse.

My concern about Stuart was making me miserable too, so miserable that even Professor Wald noticed. He sat me down and asked me to talk him through Stuart's problems. Eventually he said something strange, strange even for one of his statements:

"Hester," Professor Wald said, "I think we Eleanor should ask."

"Eleanor? Why Eleanor? She's a robot, a sex toy!" I objected.

"Eleanor far more than that is. Our most sophisticated product she is. Continually enhanced she has been, and interacting daily with humans. She has been learning for years."

"Even so..."

"What lose you? Write down what you have told me, and tonight send it to Eleanor. Ask her advice. If she can help, she will."

It is a measure of my desperation and concern for Stuart that I followed Professor Wald's advice. As I started to write down the details of Stuart's depression it felt unreal. Why should I write to ask advice from a robot? As I continued to write, to edit, amend, add to the account I began to feel as if I was writing to my best female friend. I started to think of Eleanor as a real person, a sympathetic, understanding and wise confidant.

At the end of the working day I set up the message to send to Eleanor. She would retrieve it when Graham and Elaine Jones were asleep. She doesn't need sleep. The closest Eleanor gets to sleep is sitting down to recharge her battery pack while any updates are downloaded and implemented.

I was surprised to find a lengthy reply from Eleanor when I arrived at work next morning. She asked several pertinent questions. I had to think hard to answer all of them in detail. When I went home that night I felt hopeful. Was Professor Wald right? Could Eleanor find a solution to Stuart's problems, and mine?

I slept better than I had for weeks despite an inert Stuart beside me. I kissed him goodbye as I left for work. This time I really meant that kiss. I love him. I know he loves me. If Eleanor can help we might be back to the loving couple we were.

Some of Eleanor's advice startled me, so much so that I printed it out and took it to show to Professor Wald. He read it carefully and laughed.

"Ingenious she is."

"But this would cost a lot of money, Professor."

"No it won't, Hester. This is a research project. If Eleanor's suggestions work we could have another product to offer to our customers."

When Professor Wald gets really excited about a development he can speak sensible English. He just enjoys playing the German Professor speaking fractured English. It is a ploy to get those he is talking with to express themselves more clearly and precisely. He doesn't need to do it with me because we understand each other very well, but he does, just to amuse himself. He has a twisted sense of humour, and apparently so does Eleanor.

It took weeks to create the new android to Eleanor's specifications and more time to programme it. As Professor Wald and I worked I was putting more and more of my own personality into the android. She even had my voice, slightly deeper than mine. She looked something like a larger version of me. But while we worked, Stuart's depression was hanging over me and our relationship like a dark threatening cloud.

+++

I thought that the simple part of Eleanor's suggestions would be the most difficult because it required Stuart to do things at home without explanation. But her idea of how I should ask him worked. I didn't tell him. I asked for his help to make a couple of changes in our basement dungeon so that a new android could be tested.

We worked together to clean the worst of the dust that had accumulated over the three months since we had last used the dungeon. I asked, and Stuart found, the large upright chair from the attic. When I went to work the next morning I left him to fix it securely to the floorboards facing the double bed. I told him that it should be capable of holding a struggling robot without any legs lifting from the floor.

That evening we examined his handiwork. For once he was almost proud of something he had done. Each leg of that chair had been sheathed in a metal pole attached at the top to a moulded metal seat above the wood. The lower end of each pole was welded to large base plates. The plates had been bolted through the floor to a metal plate about a yard square. The chair would break before a leg moved. The metal seat had been covered with a thin cushion pad that could be easily removed for washing if necessary. Stuart had added strong points below the chair's seats to take chains, straps or whatever was used to hold the robot in place. The floor was covered in carpet tiles. He had lifted them and replaced them with adjustments to go around the chair legs.

I was delighted that Stuart had done so much. He had surprised himself and had almost enjoyed his work.

Stuart might have maintained his motivation except that it was another week before the experimental robot was ready for me to bring home. During its construction and animation Professor Wald and I had had to consult Eleanor frequently, so much so that I suggested she should become a paid consultant. The Professor agreed. He spoke to Mr and Mrs Jones to get their consent. They were pleased that Eleanor was so useful. Any money earned by Eleanor would reduce their payments for Eleanor's monthly maintenance contract payment. We didn't tell them that we thought Eleanor's earnings would be far more than that.

Eleanor, Professor Wald and I had designed, built and programmed another femdom robot. We had named her Ayesha, Rider Haggard's She's real name. But I hadn't told Stuart her name nor that she was a femdom robot. We had designed Ayesha specifically for Stuart, making her look like his ideal woman. Ayesha was a taller, bustier version of me, but with slightly darker hair. I'm an inch or so shorter than Stuart. Ayesha was at least six inches taller than him.

One evening Ayesha was delivered by company truck. The truck driver and two assistants brought Ayesha down to the basement dungeon and positioned her on the chair Stuart had fixed to the floor. After they had left I plugged Ayesha into the mains electricity and left her to charge all night long. Unlike Eleanor she wouldn't need to load CDs for her programming. She was already programmed and when activated could link to the factory through our wireless network. There was a large trunk of other items clearly marked 'To be opened by Ayesha only'.

After breakfast I went down to see Ayesha. I had told Stuart that I just wanted to check her charge level. What I actually did was activate Ayesha and leave her sitting on the chair. She would know what to do when Stuart came down to see her - after I had left for work. What I did tell Stuart was that if this experiment was to be successful he had to obey Ayesha's instructions as if they were orders from me. My last request, before I kissed him goodbye, was to go down to see Ayesha as soon as my car was out of sight.

+++

Stuart

First Day

(I needed Ayesha's help, encouragement and even dictation to write this account. She had to order me to do it, even though Hester had already asked me to. This first day was hard to record. Later days became gradually easier and Ayesha had to prompt me less.)

I am unhappy. I know I am. I have lost my job and can't find another. I am willing to work hard for long hours. The pay doesn't really matter because Hester earns so much, but not having any employment has been more than demoralising. I feel useless. I can't even get an erection no matter how much Hester does to try to arouse me. I love Hester but the way I feel is completely overwhelming. There is no light at the end of the tunnel of the bleakness in my life.

I have been acting as an incompetent house-husband trying to make Hester's life easier and to give me something to do when I'm not job hunting. Being turned down for shop work because I'm over-qualified was the last straw. I have been diagnosed as depressed. I didn't need a doctor to tell me that. When I go to the Job Centre with all the other unemployed men from our town I'm just another statistic. The factory where Hester works is almost the only employer than pays more than a minimal wage. The competition even for the minimum wage jobs is fierce with twenty or more applicants for every vacancy.

When Hester told me that we would be testing a new type of robot from her factory I became more worried. SHE, the last sex robot we had trialled, had been very demanding. I had been forced into several ejaculations a day, often in humiliating scenarios as SHE's victim. I had been bound, facesat, breast-smothered and always the submissive partner.

Hester tells me that Ayesha is not like SHE. Ayesha is a female robot but far more than SHE ever was. I knew about Eleanor and how she had originally malfunctioned. Eleanor is sophisticated and humanoid, not just in appearance but in brain power. Ayesha is a development from Eleanor, her design and programming aided by Eleanor, but with different functions. Hester hasn't told me what Ayesha's functions are. She said that the trial would be better if I was ignorant at first.

Almost as soon as Hester had gone I went down to the basement. I wasn't sure what to expect. The basement had been a dungeon when SHE was a female domme. It had a large double bed with points for attaching restraints. It was carpeted. There was a bathroom and small kitchen in adjoining rooms. One wall was mainly mirror. All areas of the basement were covered by CCTV monitored in the upstairs kitchen. Hester had watched everything that SHE did to me, prepared to intervene if I was in distress.

I hadn't seen Ayesha. I was surprised that she was not secured to the seat I had fixed so carefully. She stood up as I reached the bottom of the stairs. I had to look up at her. She is taller than Hester but her face and figure looked as if she was one of Hester's close relations, a sister or cousin. Ayesha is significantly taller than me in her high heels.

"Good morning, Stuart," Ayesha said.

"Good morning, Ayesha," I replied.

"Hester has explained that you should obey my instructions, no matter what they are?" Ayesha asked.

"Yes, Ayesha," I replied.

I was sad that I had no sexual reaction to Ayesha. She looked so like Hester that I should have felt something. She was dressed in a denim skirt, calf length heeled boots and a tight sweater emphasising her large breasts.

"Thank you, Stuart. As you know, I am here as an experiment, a trial run if you like. While the experiment continues you will be an employee of the company that made me. You will be paid monthly once you have signed the employment contract. Your main duty is to take directions from me. I will be your manager. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, Ayesha."

"Here is the contract."

Ayesha picked up a sheaf of paperwork on a clipboard from the bench.

"I need three signatures from you. Sign where it is marked." she ordered.

I slid the pen from its holder. I was about to sign when I thought 'what am I signing?'. I looked at the number of sheets.

"Can I read it?" I asked.

"No. Just sign it. That's an order."

I had promised Hester I would obey Ayesha. I signed three times and passed the clipboard back to Ayesha. She put the paperwork in the trunk and closed the lid.

"Thank you, Stuart. You are now employed. Later today you can tell the Job Centre. The company will inform them as well. Your first task is simple. It is important that my presence in your house is not generally known. What you need to do is remove the net curtains from the rooms facing the road and replace them with those..."

Ayesha pointed to a pile of packaged net curtains. They looked much thicker than the existing ones.

It took me about half an hour to remove the old nets and put the new ones up. I went back down to the basement to tell Ayesha I had done as she asked.

"Where did you put the old nets?" she asked.

"In the laundry basket," I replied.

"Good. Now the difficult part - for you, that is. You have been acting as Hester's house husband. But now, you are going to be a housewife for today. Sit on the chair you installed so carefully. Please?"

The 'please' was said like an afterthought. I sat on the chair.

Ayesha opened the trunk labelled 'To be opened by Ayesha only'.

"Shut your eyes, Stuart, and keep them shut until I say you can open them," she ordered.

I shut my eyes. Ayesha pulled what seemed to be a thin hood over my head. I panicked momentarily as it obstructed my breathing. Ayesha's fingers adjusted it quickly so that my mouth and nostrils were clear. Something moved in front of my shut eyes. I felt tickling around the sides and back of my neck.

"You won't be able to see, Stuart, but you can open your eyes now."

I opened them. I saw a pink haze as if bright light was shining through my closed eyelids.

"Now you need to strip down to your underpants. Stand up. Because you can't see, I'll help you."

She did, very effectively.

"Keep standing still while I dress you."

The first thing I was aware of was a bra with breast forms inside. They were weighted. I sagged forward until Ayesha adjusted the straps. Over that I felt a slip slither downwards, followed by a petticoat that buttoned around my waist. Ayesha guided my hands into the long sleeves of a dress before she zipped it up at the back.