"I am not interested" - Chapter TWO - gay SF story - by Simon Harper - sharper@inorbit.com - Please tell me what you think, especially if you like it ;-)
Christopher re-did the packaging, placing travel strips on my eyelids, reinserting plugs in my nose, ears and anus, putting travel mitts to hold my fingers in place and a chest band on my arms so that they didn't flap about. My legs were locked together over a reinforced armature that extended up my back and clamped around my neck with a broad padded collar. The head packaging was formed to fit round precisely and as he clipped it shut he said, "Open your mouth", and inserted a gag connected to the face mask. "Close your mouth tight."
It was dark. I could feel the gag filling my mouth, pressing down on my tongue. A pale light filtered through to my eyes. Christopher adjusted and tightened the straps around my arms, chest, waist and legs. He poured a fast setting packaging foam over my genitals and finally, whispering "Off, raised my whole body up prior to lowering me into the reinforced travel package tub - a rigid thin skinned tube.
A pale light shone through, even through my eyelids. I could picture myself floating in a surreal pink space, spinning, bouncing and turning through a bright and airless pink space. As I was moved my body pressurised itself against different parts of the packaging. I pictured myself in a crowd at a dance club, lots of people dancing up to me, dancing with me.
Then the movement stopped, I was removed from the tube and part of the packaging was released.
"Still switched on," said a voice.
I heard several voices, and then I heard Christopher. I couldn't speak because most of the packaging was still wrapped round me and into me. I could feel fingers touching the bare skin of my chest and legs.
I heard Christopher say that he must have forgotten to switch me off. I was still detectable. Why was he trying to transport me? asked a voice. Did he know it's illegal to take a Sex Apparatus out of its registered abode? Did he understand why that was? Did he have any idea the danger society would be in? Did he? Sex Apparatus were potentially . . . rapists, killers, anything.
Christopher said, "Oh, he wouldn't do anything."
"Sex Apparatus are what you'd expect," said a voice, "sex obsessed, programmed to achieve orgasm for the user and they have no other function."
"He's my companion," protested Christopher.
"Companion? Fuck! He's your fuck. Sex Apparatus wandering the street would react to any situation - any situation - as a sexual situation. You know all this. It might mean fucking a little girl who happened to ask for, say, a sweetie or something."
Christopher laughed. "I know the law," he said, "but you are being absurd."
"Why isn't it switched off?"
"I'm sorry, I honestly forgot. I can't believe it because I knew I'd be caught if he was detectable."
"We knew the moment you loaded it into the transport."
"I know, I know. I thought . . . I'm sure I switched it, him, off."
"This is why all movement of Sex Apparatus from the registered abode it absolutely banned unless by some authorised loader. They look like us, they think like us, they talk like us, and they act like us, BUT THEY AREN'T US!! Do you hear?! They are irresponsible - too highly suggestible; they always obey even when no explicit command is given. They are always in sex mode, always looking for potential sexual behaviour, always willing to fuck anything, touch anything up. They respond to the slightest inflection even when it is unconscious.
"That's why we love'em, I guess," said Christopher with a smile in his voice.
"Don't get clever. You've broken the terms of your registration. That's a serious matter."
"Yes Sir."
There was a silence.
"What happens next?" asked Christopher.
"I need to do a check."
"A check?"
"Do a reverse pack of it. You'll be recorded."
"Of course . . . What do you mean?"
"I mean you'll be recorded for playback if necessary."
"I know what a record is," said Christopher. "I'm not stupid. But what do you mean by 'reverse-pack him'?"
"The other voice sighed audibly and said, "It means unpack it precisely in the order that you packed it. We need to see what you did."
Christopher's gentle hands glanced over my skin. I felt his heightened tremor level and other anxiety indicators. He released the packing foam from around my genital triggering an automatic arousal.
"Not now," Christopher whispered to me.
"What's that?" barked the other voice. "Do not talk to it. We need a clean assessment. That erection is precisely what I mean. Precisely. That's just from unpacking its penis. Christ. It's a fucking accident waiting to happen."
"Yes Sir," said Christopher. "I think it's just that he senses my familiarity . . . and kind of assumes I want sex."
"'Cos that's all you ever used it for."
"No, I love him."
"Sex Apparatus, is well known fact, interpret ALL affection as an overture to indecency."
Christopher carried on. His hands tried to push my erection back into place but he soon gave up. His hands brushed down my legs releasing catches and smoothing away the straps from my arms and chest. I could sense the kindness and the heat of his worry in his touch. He pulled open my out and the gag slipped out. "Christopher," I said. "I am sorry."
"Do not reply," barked the other voice and then more gently he said, "Sex Apparatus," and he quoted my registration protocol , "Robert, you will remain still and silent until instructed. Prepare all data for retrieval."
My mouth closed slowly.
"Can I carry on?" asked Christopher.
He broke away the head packaging and his hot nervous breath hit my face and moved the hairs on that part of my body.
Next he unhitched the collar and, at the other end of the armature, my legs. He opened the broad strap holding my arms to my chest and they fell away slightly. He pulled off the finger mitts. He rolled me over - out of all the broken and disordered packaging, which he pushed off the broad table I found myself on.
"What are you doing?" asked the voice.
"There is an anal plug."
"Let me." Different hands - one laid on my buttock gently and the other taking the end of the anal plug, twiting it a couple of times before ripping it suddenly out of my anal hole.
I rolled back. My ears were unplugged - by Christopher again, I could tell - and at last the tapes on my eyes were peeled gently off by his fingers. He did not wish to injure me. Again the feeling of his breath on my face and his body pressed into my side where he was leaning over me.
"Good boy," he said.
"Open," said the voice.
I opened my eyes and saw Christopher's face staring at me, his eyes full of frightened, caring tears.
"I have some questions," said the voice. I swivelled my head to the sound of his voice and saw a burly broad chested officer in some kind of uniform watching me. "Sit up," he said.
I sat up and turned on the table so that my legs fell and bent at the knee.
"Why are you SO erect?" he said
"I respond to Christopher's touch."
"You respond to any touch."
"I respond differently."
He walked towards me. "Pity," he said, and he put a hand under my chin, turning my head from side to side, inspecting me. He ran his palm over my head at which point he took a finger and flicked my erect penis. "Pity you can't control that."
"I can control that," I said.
"Why don't you then?"
"My processing indicates I should not."
He looked briefly embarrassed. "I'm going to recommend that this Sex Apparatus is de-programmed and redeployed," he said."
"No!" screamed Christopher. "Why?"
"Well, it's normal in this situation, for a start, but also, in this case, you clearly failed to take the basic protection of switching it off before transportation. That really is basic, really basic. You're forgetful. And now that it's mapped - mapped on to you - de-programming is just the most effective remedy."
"I don't understand it," said Christopher. "I clearly recall, I mean I'm practically 100% certain I switched him off."
"100%?"
"I did it just as I was closing the head."
"Is that correct?" asked the officer, addressing his question to me. He stood with his thighs pressing against my knees, breathing heavily and watching me carefully, very carefully, one hand on my chin.
"Yes," I said."
"Yes?" asked Christopher.
"Yes," I said.
The officer gave my face a slap and asked, "What the fuck do you mean?"
"I mean he did switch me off. At . . ." and I read him the time stamp.
"I did?" said Christopher. "So how come you were detected?"
"It was switched on," said the officer. "Who switched you on?" he asked, his thighs pressing into me, his hand holding my chin in his fierce grip, holding my head so that his eyes were glaring straight into my eyes.
"I did," I said.
The officer sighed a long slow sad sigh. He put his large hands on my shoulders and looked long and hard into my eyes. "Oh dear," he said. "You really are in a whole lot of trouble now, you really are."
"I am?" said Christopher.
"NOT YOU . . . you'll probably get a reprimand for attempted unauthorised relocation of a Sex Apparatus. It's this, erm," - he read my name from his notes - "Robert, here, I'm most concerned about."
"Robert is my name," I said.
"Yes, that's right," sighed the officer and he pulled me off the table, forward, and into his arms and he wrapped his arms around me and crushed my head against his chest. I heard his heart beat and, as his body responded to holding my body against his, my erection hardened.
Christopher didn't want to leave me but the officer insisted. He read him his indictment and advised him to wait at home for a call from the authorities.
"What about Robert?" Christopher asked.
"It must be left here now. There is no legal way to transport at this stage. There's no telling what it might get up to. We'll keep it here, secure."
Christopher gave me a hug and said goodbye. There were tears in his eyes. "I'll never see you again I'm afraid," he said.
"You have broken the law," I said.
At that Christopher went almost purple and broke down in tears. "He doesn't understand any of this," he said. Then he said to me "Sorry. Goodbye." And he left.
"He has broken the law," I said to the officer.
The officer compiled some incident data, ignoring me. When he had finished he told me to sit in a special room. As he was closing the door he switched off the light. "Off," he said.
We are not allowed to go out. When we go out we can be detected and tracked and detained. (Not if we are switched off. If we are switched off we cannot be detected. ) This is how society is protected from the potentially damaging sex assaults we could perform. Our addresses are registered. We can be switched on at our registered addresses by our registered users. At our registered addresses it is the registered user's responsibility to maintain safety. My registered user is Christopher. He has the responsibility.
I switched myself on.
The little room was 2.9% illuminated. I listened to the sounds of the building. I could hear people walking about. I could hear muffled conversations and meaningless thumps and bangs.
A line of light suddenly appeared around the door of my room. Something was happening.
I recognised the voice of the officer, saying, "It's got autonomy."
Then a younger voice said, "No way . . . ? How's that happen?"
"Beats me," said the officer. "Sad, 'cs the little blighter'll have to be trashed."
I think they were talking about me.
"Can't it be wiped and re-programmed?" asked the younger voice.
"Not with any certainty. You see, it just might happen again. These things don't have the responsibility developed so that they can be trusted. It's about dependability . . . discipline. Self discipline. Dependability. Responsibility."
The officer opened the door and showed me to the guy with the younger voice - he wasn't an officer. I don't think he was an official, judging by his clothes.
As soon and the officer saw me he said, "See!"
The younger guy's face appeared beside him. "What?" he said.
"Well, it's switched itself on. I switched it off before I locked up. That's what's meant by 'autonomy'."
"Blimey, that's dangerous."
"Telling me."
"I am not dangerous," I said.
"I know that's how you feel," said the officer. He came into the room and put his arms around me. "But quite frankly you don't know any more than we do about what you might do if you had the chance."
I put my arms around the officer and held on to him as tightly as I could.
"There, there," he said.
"I am not dangerous," I said.
"There, there."
"Can we have him out here?" asked the younger guy. "I'd really like to take a good look at him."
"C'mon," said the officer, and he led me out into the bright room. I stood there, looking down, naked.
"He's got a really beautiful figure," said the Younger man.
"Not much point making an ugly one, is there?"
"No, guess not."
He walked up to me and felt my body, rubbing my muscles up and down. He lifted my eyelids to see behind them and he lifted my penis to examine it. He put his hand round my testicles.
"Bend forward," he said, and I showed him my anal hole. "Ok," he said, giving me my buttocks a whack. "Stand!"
"He's so perfect," he laughed. "I had no idea they were so perfect. Oh shit!" I had started an erection. "He's getting turned on!"
"Senses your libido," said the officer.
"No . . . that's . . . wow. That's so fucking clever. So he knows . . . how people feel . . . "
"Measures body temperature, magnetic flux, tons of stuff, and works it out. It is amazing I admit."
"And he's what, gonna be, what? Just ripped apart? What, incinerated? What?"
"Ripped apart, smashed, compressed, chopped up, incinerated . . . you name it. There won't be two atoms still touching of his by the time his ashes have been ground up and reprocessed."
I watched the officer say this.
"It's a crying shame," said the younger guy. He's so amazing.
"I guess."
"Don't you think so?"
"I guess."
"You don't think he's amazing?"
"Yes! Of course I think he's amazing. I think he's beautiful and charming and lovely." He had stopped calling me "it" for some reason. "He's totally gorgeous and I think he knows it. He doesn't want this to happen - see how sad he looks. That isn't normal. He understands what's going on."
"He's human!"
"Not human . . . but very, very sensitive and lovely."
"I am not dangerous," I said.
"No, you are not," said the officer.
The Younger man kissed me on the cheek and held my hand. "You are wonderful," he said.
"I am not dangerous," I said.
"Oh, and another thing," said the officer with a grin, "he's an incredible fuck!"
"What do you mean? What's incredible about it?"
"I mean like an incredible fuck. He has this special anus that can, well, give you the fuck of your life. Million times better than any real fuck."
"No? . . . Can we . . . try it?"
"Don't see why not!"
My erection was full size now and the head of my penis moved gently up and down.
The younger man started to open his clothes. His penis was large and had also been hardening for some time. A glistening bead of precum gathered on the tip.
"Well, bend over, I guess," he said to me. I obeyed him. He put his penis inside my hole.
"Wowhh hhh oh yes," he said, "that is . . . Christ. Je-sus. What a beautifulbeautiful. Fuck. Oh Christ."
He pumped it harder.
"Would you like it to Max?" I asked.
"What? Oh, yeah, whatever, I guess."
I switched it to Max.
The younger man let out a howl, a blood curdling expression of ecstasy. "FUkn, FUkn, FUkn, FUkn, FUck!" he screamed, and I imagine he wasn't very used to this feeling in his penis because he pulled out immediately and held his dick in a mixture of agony and jubilation.
"Now I know what they mean!" he screeched. "He really is dangerous!" He stamped his foot, holding his hands over his bolting prick. "If I hadn't pulled out he'd've fucked me into . . . oblivion! Fuck! Man!"
"They take some getting used to. You shouldn't progress too quickly; it takes lots of practise to get it. Once you are used to the initial feel of the thing, then, and only then should you go up, a notch at a time, slowly, to Max. If not then there's a real danger, sure is, that you'll lose either," he started to laugh, "your mind, or your knob . . . or both!" and he broke down in tears of laughter.
After some moments of recovery they both stood for a while just looking at me in total wonder. Like I was a brand new.
Then the officer said, "Off."
"I am not interested" - Chapter TWO - gay SF story - by Simon Harper - sharper@inorbit.com - Please tell me what you think, especially if you like it ;-)