Inspired by "The Offer" by Android675@aol.com
If you have not read "The Offer" by Android675@aol.com, to which this story is a sequel, stop right here and read it first. (It's available here, among other places.) If you don't, you're missing out on a GREAT story and you may not understand everything that occurs in this one!
Note: The following story contains explicit sexual material. If stories about sex, and particularly robots and sex, do not appeal to you, please don't read any further. This story should not be read by anyone under eighteen years of age. (You know who you are.)
Sam was only half-awake when she realized Ben wasn't lying next to her any more. The bedroom, filled with the early morning twilight, was silent. Without moving a muscle, Sam opened one eye to peer at the clock. 5:03. Way too early for Ben to be up on a normal day—but, as Sam suddenly remembered, Ben had a plane to catch this morning. Today was the first day of a two-day business trip that Ben hoped would finally wrap up his latest work project. Sam knew that he had been simultaneously looking forward to and dreading this trip all week.
As Sam watched the clock's display change to 5:04, it occurred to her that Ben's flight was at 6:15. Could he have left already? Ben hated sad goodbyes, and Sam knew it would be just like him to kiss her as she slept and walk out the door. It was Ben's way of being considerate, and it was endearing in a way. But as she lifted her head to listen for him, Sam hoped desperately that he was still home. She wanted to see him one more time.
Several seconds passed as Sam strained to hear anything. Then, as the happy sound of a running faucet reached her ears, she leapt out of bed. A moment later, Ben emerged from the bathroom, already dressed for his trip. The light from the bathroom fell on a flawlessly packed garment bag which lacked only the toothbrush and hairbrush that Ben now slipped inside it. Sam couldn't believe how neatly Ben had folded his clothes, how well he'd used all the little compartments to hold his things. He was always so efficient. Sam really admired that about him, perhaps because she was usually just the opposite. As Ben knelt down to zip the bag closed, Sam came up behind him. She greeted him with a bright, beautiful smile as he looked up at her.
"Don't worry," Ben said before Sam could say anything, "I wasn't going to leave without saying goodbye. Just wanted to let you sleep as long as possible, that's all." He stood up and placed his hands on Sam's shoulders. "I'm going to miss you," he said, his eyes never leaving hers.
"It's getting cold," Sam said, shifting her weight back and forth to fight off the mid-October chill which filled the room. "How am I going to keep warm while you're gone?"
"Well, I guess you'll have to keep thinking about last night," Ben replied with a smile. "I know that's what I'll be doing." As Ben put his arms around her, Sam's thoughts drifted back to the previous evening. It had definitely been a night to remember. Why did the best sex always come right before, or right after, being apart? Sam held Ben tightly, then let her hands fall so that she could give his butt a little squeeze. Ben laughed, then gently pulled away. "All right, enough of that. Gotta go, hon."
Sam walked Ben to the door, and kissed him for as long as he would allow. "I'll call you," Ben said as he reached down for his garment bag. One more kiss upon Sam's forehead, and a moment later he was gone.
Sam knew she was going to miss Ben terribly, but as she closed the door she found herself looking forward to being alone for a while. If nothing else, having the place to herself meant she wouldn't have to worry about Ben being around when her order from Precision Passion arrived. She was still nervous about what he might say if he found out about it. The thought of putting on the shiny silver lycra gave her butterflies. It had been four days since he'd received her confirmation number—she wondered if today might be the day her order finally came.
Even though it wasn't even 5:30 in the morning yet, Sam decided to turn on her computer. Sitting down, she waited patiently for it to finish booting; as soon as it was done, Sam connected to her ISP. But this time, as the familiar tones rang out from her modem, Sam didn't make a sound. Instead she took a long, deep breath, and settled back comfortably in her chair. Soon she was connected—and her ISP's welcome screen informed her that she had email. Probably just the same waiting mail messages she'd been ignoring all weekend—more get-rich-quick scams, chain letters, and worn-out jokes. She was much more interested in checking her order status on the Precision Passion site.
Having decided from the beginning that setting a bookmark for the page brought too high a risk of discovery, Sam typed in the web address for the order status page. An instant later, the familiar dark blue screen materialized, its gently flickering pipes beckoning for her attention. Sam smiled faintly, a faraway look in her eyes as she watched the ever-changing display. Only after a few seconds did she actually read the order status message.
Sam couldn't believe it. Today was the day! Sam wanted to just stay home and wait for the package to arrive, but she had back-to-back aerobics classes at 10:00 and 11:00, plus another one at 6. Sam was too excited to go back to sleep, so she decided to check her email after all. Just as she thought, there were two pieces of junk mail waiting for her. But there was a third message, from her friend Kim. The message was dated Friday, three days ago—she'd been ignoring it all this time! Sam double-clicked the message to read it.
I'm so sorry I've been so out of touch! I've been away on the greatest trip of my life—can't wait to tell you all about it. Until today, it's been impossible for me to make solid plans to come to Boston. But now, I finally know exactly how the coming week is going to play out.
I'll be in Boston on Tuesday. Don't worry about picking me up at the airport or anything—I'll just show up at your door around 3:00. Can't wait to see you!
Kim was going to be in town Tuesday—tomorrow! That was unexpected. Still, Kim's timing was good in that it lined up with Ben's being away. Sam looked forward to spending some quality time with her best friend. Sam shut down her email program, and the Precision Passion web site was once again the topmost window on her screen. Sam always felt relaxed whenever she looked at the site. It was still really early, and Sam was in no rush. She might as well sit back and watch the pretty colors for a while.
Resting her arms comfortably on the arms of her chair with her fingers together, Sam stared contentedly at the screen. As the display pulsated and gleamed, she smiled sleepily, her heavy eyelids fluttering but never closing. After a while, Sam's mouth began to move, slowly forming a series of soundless words. Sam was completely oblivious to what she was doing at first. But then, as she became aware of the phrase she was mouthing, Sam's eyes opened wider, and she took a deep breath. A restful smile lit up her face. She felt fully refreshed, focused. "I am ready for the ultimate personal transformation," she said aloud, giving voice to her mantra at last. For some reason it felt really good to say that.
After a nice, long shower, Sam filled the rest of her morning with breakfast and a few household chores. By 9:00, it was time to get dressed for work. She picked out another thigh-length unitard—shiny black with a bright green racing stripe along each side—then threw a T-shirt and sweatpants over it to keep warm and make herself a little more presentable. She was out the door by 9:15, and at the front of her aerobics class, minus the sweatpants, at five before the hour.
Sam's two morning classes went very well. She was full of energy, leading her students through a challenging series of stretches, step moves, floor exercises, and other routines. Not that the program was challenging for her—the morning was for her beginning and intermediate students. Moves that left some of her less fit students gasping for breath barely caused Sam to break a sweat. Of course, things would be different in her advanced class at 6:00. But for now, Sam was effortlessly, though enthusiastically, going through the motions.
In the locker room, as Sam stuffed her things into her gym bag, she couldn't help but notice that she was the only one wearing a tight, shiny outfit. Especially in a co-ed gym, she found it strange to see so many women hiding their bodies in baggy clothing, much of it obviously stolen from old boyfriends. Even the ones who wore tighter tops, shorts, or leggings always seemed to choose that dull cotton stuff—grey, olive green, or brown. It was more in style these days, there was no question of that, but it was too boring for Sam's taste. And over the past couple of years, Sam had found herself gradually conforming to the changing gym culture, to the point that she too usually wore something modest over her real workout clothes.
Sam decided it was time to change all that. Cramming her T-shirt and sweats into her bag, she stepped out of the locker room in her black and green spandex unitard. As she walked across the gym floor, several guys stopped to look at her. As she climbed the stairs to street level, she could feel their eyes on her, watching every move of her body. It felt great! Even out on the street, where the fall weather made her stand out more than usual among the trenchcoats and heavy jackets, Sam felt a surge of confidence as she walked the two miles to her apartment.
Once at home, Sam took another quick shower, then fixed herself a light lunchtime snack. She had just tidied up the kitchen, and was going through her regular mail, when the doorbell rang. Sam looked out the window, and saw a brown delivery truck double-parked outside. It was here!
Sam's heart thumped loudly as she ran to the door and opened it. A uniformed delivery man handed Sam a large package, then asked her to sign for it. Quickly scribbling her name on the delivery form, Sam thanked the man and took her package inside.
Within seconds, Sam had opened the box. Inside, wrapped neatly in cellophane, were several smaller packages. She could see that one held a pair of silver boots, and another held a black duffel bag. But the one that caught Sam's eye was the one that contained the catsuit. Tearing open the plastic, Sam pulled the catsuit out. The fabric felt like liquid in her hands, sliding so smoothly against itself that she almost dropped it to the floor. And the silver shine was more brilliant than that of any lycra she had ever seen. It was gorgeous!
Curious as she was to look at the other items in the box, Sam couldn't wait any longer to put the suit on. She sprinted into her bedroom—and, tossing her clothes to the floor, she stood in front of her full-length mirror. Clutching her silver catsuit in her hand, Sam took a moment to look at her naked body in the mirror. Beautiful, Sam decided—but not as beautiful as it would be if it were pure silver.
Holding the catsuit in front of her, Sam pressed its shoulders against her own and extended her left leg a little so that the leg of the suit was draped along it. As the cool metallic lycra brushed against her breasts, Sam felt an electric tingle unlike anything she had felt before. The feeling was so intense that she almost lost her balance.
Sam's breaths were suddenly coming much quicker now, and her heart was pounding with excitement as she held the silver lycra against her bare skin. She gasped as she realized that she was getting aroused. Her body was already responding to the incredible feeling of the suit—and she hadn't even put it on yet!
Sam wasted no time in rectifying that situation. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she brought the catsuit to her left foot. Sam was glad to see that the suit had no zipper, but she was surprised at the size of the neck opening. It didn't look like it was going to be big enough—but then, there was only one way to find out.
As soon as Sam put her foot into the suit, she felt it—a faint electrical charge which danced along her calf at she pulled the spandex tight over it. With the suit still bunched around her thigh, Sam paused a moment to admire her leg. From the knee down, all the way to her toes, it looked as though she were made of polished chrome. Ben had always told her that her calves were among the sexiest parts of her body, especially when she wore pantyhose. Now, as she stared at her shining silver leg, Sam finally understood what he meant.
Sam put her right foot into the suit, and the tingling charge filled both of her legs, becoming stronger as she stood up and pulled the catsuit to her hips. She carefully guided the silver spandex over her buttocks—incredibly, the neck opening stretched to accommodate her generous hips—then pulled the front up to her waist, making sure the spandex was tight against her crotch. As she did this, there was a sudden surge in the tingling sensation. "Oh!" she cried out, taking a step backward to keep herself from falling over.
The tingling was impossible to ignore now, permeating the lower half of Sam's body like a gentle electric current. As Sam bent over to tug at each leg of the catsuit, meticulously smoothing any imperfections in its silver surface, she felt the current intensify ever so slightly. Sam pulled the silver spandex up over her abdomen to her chest, tucking it under her breasts. She then stood before the mirror, feet together, shifting her weight back and forth to let the light dance along her thighs and hips. The soft flesh of her bare arms, shoulders, and breasts contrasted sharply with the silver sheen of the rest of her body, making Sam look like some sort of futuristic mermaid.
At last Sam pulled the suit over her breasts, then inserted her arms into the sleeves, each of which ended in shiny silver gloves. After pausing a moment to make sure there were no wrinkles anywhere, Sam turned toward the mirror again.
From the neck down, Sam was now completely metallic.
As she admired her silver form in the mirror, Sam felt the electric current intensify again. The constant mild tingling had become an insistent pulse—and as she looked at herself from every angle, Sam was sure the suit was getting tighter. The spandex still stretched straight across Sam's behind, and her cleavage, but it was now tight enough to accentuate the shape of her erect nipples perfectly.
As the pulsating current deepened, Sam found that she couldn't resist running her silver hands along her body. She pressed her palms against her breasts, spreading her chrome fingers wide as she moved her hands in two perfectly mirrored circles. Then, her fingers still apart, Sam ran the heel of each hand along her sides, until her palms came to rest on her well-rounded hips. Everywhere she moved her hands, the contact of silver upon silver sent tiny electric shocks through Sam's body. She rubbed her tummy with delight, then turned her back on the mirror. "Nice ass!" she said aloud, laughing at her own words as she patted herself on the rump.
Sam couldn't take her eyes off herself—and she felt wonderful from head to toe. It was obvious that this was no ordinary lycra catsuit, but Sam had no explanation for why it was making her whole body crackle with energy. Then she remembered the Precision Passion web site. Wasn't she supposed to log on for more information?
Sam walked over to her computer, and within minutes she was logged onto her ISP and bringing up the Precision Passion home page. She noticed that the Order Status menu item had been replaced with a new one, Interactive Demo. Sam immediately clicked on it. The screen took a bit longer than usual to refresh. As she waited, Sam noticed a faint staccato buzzing from the lycra at the base of her neck, like a brief flash of Morse code. Finally, the demo introduction came up.
Taking the mouse in her silver hand, Sam clicked on a small button labeled Begin—and the first page of the demonstration came up. The tour began with a description of the catsuit itself. Sam already had firsthand knowledge of most of its features, such as its extremely tight fit and the electricity which seemed to course through it. But there was one thing Sam hadn't yet discovered. Apparently, the fabric of the catsuit had the ability to open and separate anywhere along its surface. Following the instructions on the screen, Sam tested this feature by pulling at the fabric which clung to her left wrist. Before her eyes, a seam opened, and she was able to pull the spandex glove she'd created off her hand with ease. When she put the glove back on, it rejoined itself to the rest of the suit, leaving no evidence of a separation. Cool!
The next step in the demo was an overview of the accessories that came with the suit. As she read the description of each item, Sam decided that she liked the boots enough to try them on, but for now she wasn't very interested in the sunglasses or belt. As for the makeup, that seemed like too much effort right now. Better to wait until Ben got back to experiment with that—and besides, she wasn't sure how easily it would wash off and was acutely aware that she still had an evening class to teach.
As soon as Sam lifted her boots from the box, however, she noticed that there was a second pair directly beneath them. Certain that there must be some mistake, Sam continued to empty the box. Sure enough, there was a second catsuit—as well as another pair of sunglasses, another belt, and another duffel bag. It made no sense! The only items that weren't duplicated were the ponytail holder, the makeup kit, and the little black box she'd mistaken for a sunglasses case. Now that she held the box in her hands, it was obvious that it was some kind of remote control. Its shiny black surface contained several unmarked black buttons, and there was an unlit red light at one end.
Sam turned back to the screen, remote control in hand, hoping that by moving on to the next screen she would get some answers about the second suit and the remote. She wasn't disappointed.
As Sam read these words, the Morse code at the back of her neck acted up for a moment.
Damn, Sam thought. How did the web site know all that?
Without thinking, Sam did as she'd been told, pressing her thumb to the topmost button on the remote. The effect was instantaneous. Sam froze like a statue, a look of shock upon her face, as the remote fell from her outstretched hand to the floor. She couldn't move!
Then, suddenly, she did move—but not of her own volition. Completely on their own, Sam's hips pivoted neatly to the left. Her upper torso followed a split-second later, her arms still held in the air before her like those of a department-store mannequin. Then, guided by some unseen force, Sam found herself walking stiffly in the direction of the open box, next to which the other catsuit lay on the floor.
Sam stopped. Her head jerked down toward the floor, then up again. What was going on? As if answering her question, a voice rang out in her head. COMPANION UNIT OFF-LINE.
Sam barely had time to register that this probably meant nobody was wearing the other suit before the voice spoke again. BEGIN PROGRAMMING.
PROGRAM LOADING COMPLETE.
Sam's head tilted sharply to one side. Thoughts not her own began to form in her mind. "I . . . I . . . I am . . ."
The thoughts continued to overwhelm her. She had no idea what she was doing, or what she was saying, until after the fact. "I am . . . programmed for . . ."
Programmed? What the hell did that mean?
Sam had no time to think before the suit began to pulse even more strongly than before. This time the sensation drove all questions from her mind. This time, Sam knew what she was about to say an instant before the words came from her lips. "I am pro.grammed for"—and now, her eyes suddenly went wide as her head cocked again—"plea.sure."
Sam felt the electricity of the suit rush all the way to the top of her head as the words sank in. She was programmed. Programmed for pleasure. Ideally, programmed to pleasure another—a male companion unit—and to be pleasured by him in turn. But for now, with no suitable candidate available, Sam was programmed to pleasure herself. She knew that now.
Sam's mouth opened again. A series of status reports, each of which she vaguely realized should be part of a dialogue with her companion unit, emanated in a hollow monotone from her lips.
ACTIVATE VOCAL. "Loa.ding . . . pro.gram . . . . Trans.form one."
ACTIVATE VOCAL. "Pro.gram loa.ding com.plete."
ACTIVATE VOCAL. "Ini.ti.a.ting pro.gram."
As soon as she spoke those words, Sam's legs spread apart, and her right arm jerked into motion—first across until her outstretched hand came even with her navel, then down until it was in front of her crotch. Without moving her slightly-cocked head, without even blinking an eye, Sam stiffly turned her hand until her silver fingers came in contact with her body. The electric current in her catsuit suddenly surged, but Sam's blank, wide-eyed expression revealed none of the incredible pleasure she was experiencing.
INITIATE TRANSFORM INTERFACE. Sam's palm pressed against the soft mound above her vagina.
FUNCTION TRANSFORM TWO. BEGIN INTERFACE NOW.
ACTIVATE VOCAL. "In.ter.fac.ing now."
As Sam's fingers pressed down upon her sex, the silver catsuit gave way to allow her to push them gently inside her. Slowly, with total precision, Sam worked her fingers deeper and deeper with each gentle thrust. And with each motion, a wave of electrical current surged outward from her fingertips and into her vagina. The waves grew stronger, more insistent—and, soon, perfectly synchronized with the pulsing current that coursed through her entire spandex-covered body.
Except for the fingers of her hand, Sam was completely immobile. All movement, all thought not focused completely on increasing her pleasure level was unnecessary and irrelevant. Sam lost herself to the hypnotic, all-consuming rhythm of the electric current as it steadily overtook her. She allowed her . . . programming . . . to take over completely now. Her mechanical movements repeated over and over, until finally the voice in her head spoke once more.
CIRCUITS APPROACHING CRITICAL LEVELS. PREPARE FOR RELEASE. CODE TRANSFORM ONE A. Sam was now aware that she required an orgasm immediately. Otherwise, her circuits would overload. This fact did not seem the slightest bit strange to her as she pumped her wet, silver hand in and out of her body. It was time to have an orgasm to prevent systems overload.
INITIATE RELEASE SEQUENCE.
Sam's entire body jolted as her circuits released. Her silver legs shook violently, and her left arm—the one that had until now been idle—began to jerk up and down, side to side. Her head did the same, sending her ponytail bouncing back and forth against her shoulders. Sam's body shuddered erratically and uncontrollably for more than a full minute before her motion suddenly ceased.
RELEASE COMPLETE. CIRCUITS NORMAL. PROGRAM TRANSFORM ONE COMPLETE.
Sam was now standing perfectly still, two fingers of her right hand still inside her as her blank face stared back at her from the mirror. Once again, her head tilted sharply to the side. ACTIVATE VOCAL. "This.u.nit.has.a.chieved.sat.is.fac.to.ry.re.lease."
Another second or two passed before the voice commanded her again. BEGIN SHUTDOWN SEQUENCE. ACTIVATE VOCAL. "This.u.nit.will.now.be.gin.shut.down.se.quence." Sam removed her hand from her vagina and stepped backward, away from the mirror. Her staring eyes fixed themselves on the computer monitor, with its gleaming display.
Her arms still held in front of her, bent at the elbows in an unnatural pose, Sam felt her silver body freeze once again. Her head jerked to the side one last time.
SHUTDOWN UNIT COMMAND ALPHA 2. ALL CIRCUITS SHUTTING DOWN.
SEQUENCING 10 . . . 9 . . . 8 . . . 7 . . . 6 . . . 5 . . . .
"This.unit.shut.ting.down," Sam heard herself say, her voice still flat and mechanical. Her upper body suddenly bent forward at the waist, slowly tracing a thirty-degree arc before coming to a halt. Her arms and legs remained perfectly stiff. Finally, Sam's head tilted forward until her chin touched her chest.
4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . . Sam could feel the room going dark around her as her mind shut itself off. Her wide open eyes saw nothing.