Picture by Enrique Meseguer via Pixabay
Picture by Enrique Meseguer via Pixabay

Artificial intelligence and made of steel, but could she be spanked?


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“Please unlock me,” the droid girl in cell one asked with a pleading voice that didn’t match her static facial features.

During my time working here, I’ve learned not to get into their requests. All bots on this floor of the facility have at least one fault. Some had even physically attacked others. Instead of simply shutting them down and discarding them, we attempt to analyze where the problem occurred in hopes of developing better models in the future.

In my project, we decided to take another angle. Some humans in our age still participate in BDSM activities. We have subjected several of them to research, and while we know a lot about the brain, we’re still not entirely sure how it works. We uploaded an experimental behavioural script to a group of droids on this floor.

My goal was to subject these bots to known BDSM activities and see how they responded. The tests on a clean bot were promising, but they had to be put to use for other purposes. That’s why they’ve given me free rein to do what I wanted with the bots on this floor. Today, my goal was to run the test, gather the results, and make it out alive and intact.

I entered the cell, and the girl scanned me. ‘Please unlock me, kind sir,” she tried again.

I shook my head and began unpacking my briefcase.

One by one, she scanned and labelled the products I packed. “Flogger. Used in BDSM activities for spanking purposes. Multiple strands for both light and hard impact. Cane. Used in BDSM activities for spanking purposes. Rigid implement for intense impact on one spot. Paddle. Used in BDSM activities for spanking purposes. Rigid implement for intense impact on a broad stroke of skin. Master, why did you bring these here?”

Her BDSM script had been uploaded and implemented successfully. “We have tests to run, 937.”

She nodded. “Tests are essential for further development,” she stated.

“Indeed they are. Show me position one.”

Without hesitation, she sunk to her knees with her hands open upon her thighs. There was a slight tingling in my crotch. I’ve worked with droids for twelve years, but this was the first time I could combine my expertise with my personal interest. I knew this was a computer responding to an input I had placed there, but my dick was lagging behind. “Position two, 937.”

Instantly she switched to her hands and knees, faster and more fluently than any human ever could have done. Seeing her in this position, I realized my mistake. “Undress, 937. You will be punished for not doing this before assuming the first position.”

Curious to how she would respond to this command, I studied her reactions. The whirring inside of her told me she was processing the request. After a longer pause than I would have liked, she replied.
“Punishment accepted, Master.”

She quickly took off her clothes. I was still amazed at how lifelike the bots had become these past twenty years. Taking lessons from the sex doll industry, their TPX skin was realistic and flexible like human skin.

“Assume position ten, 937.” She faced the wall, arms and legs spread, ass slightly protruding backwards. Perfect position for spanking.

“Starting spanking protocol.” Tests by my colleagues had learned it was paramount to add this line of text, else the self-defence sequence might be induced. And pretty as she was, you did not want her turned against you.

“Affirmative, Master. Spanking accepted.”

I took up the flogger and swung out to her firm ass.

“One, Master.”

Her response brought a smile to my face. Of course, she was a bot, she could count, but this was something my flesh and blood girls often struggled with. The further into the spanking, they often lost count. This bot didn’t.

Even as I hit her in quick succession with the flogger, she never failed to answer me or lose count.
Next, I picked up the cane. Her body twitched into the wall at the first hit.

“Forty-one, Master.”

“937, answer me. Do you register pain right now?”

Again the whirring. “The impact does hit my pain sensors, Master. It also stimulates my pleasure sensors, Master.”

That was interesting. We had programmed it right.

“Do you enjoy the spanking sequence?” This was a problematic query. How much of a personality did she have, or was all of it a result of our programming?

“Yes, Master.”

With her entirely in the BDSM mode, she physically couldn’t give another answer. Never mind.
I continued the spanking.

Something was lacking in this experiment. Her moans became increasingly intense, but her skin didn’t colour, neither did she become more sensitive in the affected areas as her blood and flesh equivalents did tend to become. As a dominant, it did little for me. Yes, my body responded like it did with any girl, but there was no development. I laid down the cane and stroked her ass. She didn’t flinch.
“Did you enjoy that, 937?”

“Yes, it was pleasant to serve you, Master.”

Oh, why did I even try? “End spanking protocol.”

I put the spanking implements back into my briefcase.

When I looked up again, I noticed how 937 was standing close to me. Her eyes were facing upwards, and her eyelids blinking quickly, the sign she was processing information. When the whirring had finished, she opened her eyes and, with a grim expression on her face, took hold of my wrist. I always forgot, but I shouldn’t, how strong these bots were.

“Starting spanking protocol.”

What? This couldn’t be right.
“937, stop! Permission denied,” I uttered frantically while she pushed me against the wall and yanked down my pants to bare my ass.

“Subject protests. Engage higher protocol.”

No, no, this wasn’t right. I had only written the higher protocol for fun to see if it could work. She had to be stopped.
“937, stop. All rights revoked. Quit program. Control alt delete!”

She took both my wrists and placed them against the wall. “Subject in position.”

Before I could turn away, she had taken up the cane and hit me with it. Damn, that thing bit.

“Start counting, subject,” she commanded.

“What? No, I won’t. Let me go!”

She took up the cane and held it underneath my chin. “I suggest you start counting now, subject.” Her voice and tone of voice frightened me.

“One.”

“One what?”

“One, Master?” I had no idea how she would want to be addressed in this situation. It was the protocol I had written for myself.

She pulled the cane tighter to my neck. “Close, subject. I wish to be addressed as Mistress.”

“Yes, Mistress, of course, Mistress,” I squeaked.

“Very well. Let’s go on.” Every hit with the cane, I counted and thanked her. Meanwhile, my brain was working in a frenzy. How could I stop this? How could I override her program? I had never imagined a spanking would hurt so much. 937 was methodological and hit with the exact same force every time.

“Do you enjoy the spanking sequence?” she asked. Was she mocking me? No, that would be too human an emotion. It had to be a glitch.

“Yes, Mistress.”

She took up the paddle and continued hitting me. I didn’t know what was worse, the cane or the paddle. This pain was so broad and deep.

“Please, no more, Mistress. This hurts.”

“Do you wish to engage safe word?” she rightly retrieved from the high-BDSM protocol.

“Yes, yes! Safeword — red. Please, red, red.” I nearly shouted the words.

“Red. Affirmative. Spanking sequence seized.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “End BDSM protocol.”

“BDSM protocol ended,” she replied.

“937 shut down.”

She took place in the corner of the cell. “Shutting down.” Her head fell forward, her arms relaxed, and she transitioned into sleep mode.

I rubbed my forehead and then my afflicted ass. I was not a masochist; that much was certain. Well, I certainly had one hell of a report to write, but I didn’t think I would share this with my department. Fuck, this was embarrassing.

I pulled up my pants, collected the tools, left the cell and locked the door.

On the way back to my office, I nodded to Leonard, my colleague.

“Oh, Tim, I have something I need to ask,” he waylaid me.

I held up my hand. “Later, Leonard, not now.”

He gave me a strange look. “Did you sprain your ankle?”

“Something like that. Come by my office after three, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” He continued on his path.

A sprained ankle, yeah, I wish. I doubted I could sit the next couple of days. I think we can conclude robots aren’t affected by spankings, but robot engineers, on the other hand…



Interesting blogpost with the same premise as this story: https://mainstreamspanking.wordpress.com/2019/06/05/robo-spanking/


mmmMondays

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