The Mad Scientist

Ooh how I hate the university's funding committee. It's filled with morons, absolute morons; they wouldn't recognize a good idea if it beat them over the head with a mallet. I had an amazing design for a lens for high energy lasers. It was brilliant, it could take so much more power than any existing lens today; no one had done anything like it before and had so many applications for both industry and military applications. So you'd think they'd pick mine, right? Of course not; those fools gave it to Dr. Hansworth instead. What did he have? High tensile strength glass. Really. I could hardly stay awake during his pitch; I've seen it all a million times before. His project isn't good for anything but making coffee tables that can hold twice as many magazines. How does the university find such stupid people? I don't know, but when they do they invariably put them on funding committees. It only gets worse. My graduate students are all buffoons. I could find chimps who could write better funding proposals than they do. I always get stuck with ones like that. They screw around all the time and I end up doing all their work as well as my own. Dr. Hansworth's research assistance couldn't possibly be as lazy or incompetent as mine.

Then traffic was terrible, and it took me an hour to get back home to my loft. I didn't care, I was still fuming about the funding committee and I threw the door open. Allen was there; he greeted with a kiss and asked, "How was your day, dear?" That was a little better. Allen is my man; he's tall, muscular, and he has a brilliant smile; but best of all he's a robot. I made him because all men are intimidated by my genius and are scared of a relationship with me. Allen can fulfill all the functions of a man and he's programmed to never leave me. He's perfect; but I was still in a foul mood.

"Terrible," I replied, "The committee rejected my proposal." I try not to pout around Allen, but when everyone is against you it's hard not to be bitter.

"I thought they might, dear, so I picked up some flowers for you and made your favorite."

"You thought they would?" I asked, pointedly.

"I know that you deserve the grant, honey; but, as you've said before, the committee is made up of old men stuck in the past and your graduate students write poor grant proposals because they don't understand your genius."

Like I said, he's perfect. He listens to me and he understands my feelings. That doesn't stop me from complaining. "I was going to say those things," I muttered.

"I know, dear, but I left off the last part for you."

I sighed. Even with all of Allen's efforts I still felt grumpy.

"Come on dear, say it, it will make you feel better."

"Fools, I'll destroy them all," I mumbled.

"Now that doesn't sound like the super villainess that I fell in love it; like you mean it."

"Fools, I'll destroy them all," I said.

"Bigger," he said.

"Fools I'll destroy them all," I shouted and then I cackled. I always seem to do that. It's for the best; maniacal laughter isn't very feminine, but cackling is perfect for a lady.

"Now then come see what I made for you," he said as he kissed me again and gave my bottom a quick squeeze. I couldn't help but smile a little in spite of myself.

We don't have much of an apartment; the university doesn't pay me anywhere near what I'm worth. Allen always makes it look spectacular. Tonight he had set the tiny dining table with candles and a tablecloth. There was a bouquet of my favorite flowers, snap dragons, in the middle of the table. They looked gorgeous. In a moment he brought out a steak, exactly the way I like it, nice and bloody. Allen is a really good cook and he can make wonderful dishes out of the tiny kitchenette. I had the better part of a bottle of wine and felt much better. We discussed probability theory throughout dinner. He's always interesting and he never talks about guy things like sports, dopey television shows or himself. I programmed him to not be interested in stupid stuff like that. Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, he brought out a chocolate lava cake with whipped cream. It just melted in my mouth, it was amazing.

I was super relaxed and really in the mood at that point. I didn't say anything. I didn't have to; Allen knew what I wanted just from my smile. He picked me up and carried me up the step to the balcony where our bed is. He laid me down upon the bed and proceeded to strip for me. I love watching; I built him so that he has a muscular physique and a nice tight ass. He came back next to me and we started to kiss. It felt so nice; his hands were roaming all over my body, and deftly removing my clothes. He had me down to my bra and panties before I knew what had happened. Then he turned me over and unfastened my bra. He rubbed my back until I felt as though I had collapsed into a puddle. I was warm and content when he turned me back over and started kissing my breasts and sucking on my nipples. They grew hard as pebbles under his efforts. It was too much for me to take. "Now Allen, now" I moaned. He tore my panties off, he knew that I couldn't wait, and he entered me with that large cock of his. I built it to my dimensions so it fills me up. It can vibrate too, when I want it that way; tonight I just wanted it hard. I wrapped my legs around his ass to draw him deeper into me. I was screaming out my joy as I reached my first orgasm. I had several more before Allen came; I made him so that he ejaculates a viscous fluid and then his cock deflates. He lay down next to me and we cuddled together.

As we lay together he suggested, "Why don't we spend the day in bed tomorrow, dear. You've had a rough week."

I readily agreed; though it didn't seem so rough any longer as I lay there in his arms. I no longer cared that I didn't get the grant or that my grad students were incompetent buffoons. Allen makes me feel so good that I can't stay angry at the world. Allen stroked my hair and told me how beautiful I was as I drifted off to sleep. He does that every night.

The next morning Allen woke me with a kiss. He always does that, but this morning it seemed more special. I just smiled, he was just so cute lying there next to me. We kissed a bit and then he breathed a trail of kissed down my body down to my wet and willing sex. His tongue worked up and down my groove until I was moaning uncontrollably. Then his fingers entered my womanhood. I soon reached a screaming climax then I lay back in bed sprawled out as he went downstairs, still nude, to make some omelets for us.

I lay in bed half making plans of all the things Allen was going to do to me today. In the midst of my reverie I heard an explosion and the door of my apartment burst open. That was the third time this month; I really need to get a blast door installed. As the smoke was still swirling about I heard a woman shout, "You bitch; come down here." I recognized the voice; it was Dr. Peters. She thinks she's my arch-rival and that she's a genius, but is sadly mistaken on both counts. She's always talking like her research is on par with mine; but she couldn't begin to understand the simplest of my papers. I sighed again and draped my sheet around me and walked down the stairs. Allen was already had already stepped in front of her.

"What do you want?" he asked her with a cleaver in his hand.

"I'm here to talk to Dr. Wister. After all the trouble I went to have Dr. Hansworth suffer an accident the committee chose her..." she stopped and did a double take. "Is that real?" she said breathlessly.

"Yes it's a real clever," Allen replied; puzzled at the question.

"No I meant, your, uh, penis," she said and blushed. I could see she was staring at it. Women are always checking out Allen when we're in public; they think they're being subtle but they're not. I know he's super-hot, but those whores need to build a man of their own and not make plans for mine. I saw I was going to have to put Dr. Peters in her place.

"Yes, of course it's real," I said and happily put my hand around his ass, "And it's all mine." He smiled and kissed me.

"Please," said Veronica. "A freckle faced, flat chested little twit like you didn't get a built lover with an enormous cock."

That "Flat chested" steamed me. Anyone would be stacked if they were as overweight as she was. "Oh, like a fat slob like you is Miss Popular," I retorted.

"Really, I know my limits and I know you didn't catch this one. What is he, a robot?"

"Of course," I said proudly, "I made him myself."

I thought that would burn Dr. Peters. She's far too stupid to even know how to make an artificial intelligence; let alone a robot that possessed one. She should have been awed by my genius, but for some reason she started laughing.

"Do you want me to throw her out, honey?" asked Allen.

"Not yet," I turned to her. "What is so funny?"

"You built him. You couldn't get a man, so you had to build one."

"I could so get my own man. It's just that robots make better lovers."

"Keep telling yourself that," she said still laughing. "You should rent your machine out, think of all the money you could make."

"He's not for rent; he's mine."

"I don't blame you, really. I wouldn't rent out my dildo either."

"He's not a dildo," I was furious now. "He can talk, he can feel and he loves me."

"He's a machine, Jane, he only loves you because you programmed him to," she replied.

"Never call me by my first name again," I stormed; imagine me being on first name basis with an idiot like her, "And get out or I'll show you what else I programmed him to do." Allen can punch through a steel girder; he'd have no problem rearranging Dr. Peter's ugly face.

"I'm already on my way, honey," she said and walked out still laughing.

I was hopping mad, but, once she left, I burst into tears. Allen held me tight and said, "There, there" as he stroked my hair. I calmed down after a while and he said. "You shouldn't let that woman bother you. She's miserable and has to make other people feel miserable."

"I can't help it," I sobbed. "She's right, I couldn't get a man and I had to make one."

"You could get a man. You told me about your old boyfriends."

They had all been arrogant, egotistical jerks. They only thought about themselves or their own stupid research and never wanted to listen to me talk about mine. "I couldn't get a man I liked," I said, still sobbing.

"Don't you like me?" he asked.

"Oh Allen, you know I love you very much."

"I love you too, dear; you shouldn't worry about her. You have what you want and you see how unhappy that woman is."

"But the whole department will be laughing at me."

"Then you can destroy them all."

I looked at him for a second and then we both burst out laughing. "We have each other. It doesn't matter what other people say," he said.

"Oh Allen," I said and held him tightly. "Did I program you to be so sweet?"

"Come on dear," he took my hand. "The omelets are done. After breakfast why don't you set up the camera and you can give me a blowjob."

"Sometimes I think I made you a little too male," I said with a smirk.

"Would you rather we talk about shoe shopping.

"A blow job it is," I said. I dropped my sheet and sat down for nude omelets. We had a dozen recordings of us together. I watch them sometimes when I trapped in boring meetings. The one where I blow Allen are some of my favorites. I look fantastic in those and Allen always tells me I'm the best. I made his ejaculate taste like cinnamon and vanilla and it's easy to get out of my hair. Like I said he's the perfect man.