Human Android Ch. 01a

Her misgivings were well founded. The initial relief that he was using her as a maid, evaporated.

"Take the box out to the truck," Larry ordered.

Anne quietly whimpered as she walked toward the garage side door. It creaked on hinges needing oil, then opened onto the outside world. The sunlight made her eyes rapidly flicker behind the mask lenses, before they reacted to the bright sunshine.

Anne stepped out into the street concentrating on not fainting from fright. The street was a university housing area for senior staff. Large houses in an open planned landscape, without hedges or fences, was surrounded by manicured lawns. From a distance it would look as though she were naked out there, for anyone to see!

That young guy had recognised her silhouette, and anyone on campus would. Afraid to move her head, she scanned her eyes back and forth, not seeing anyone. Her fellow faculty members must be away, or preparing for the next semester. It didn't matter where they were, as long as they weren't here.

After pushing the boxed handbags into the back of the truck, she walked unhurriedly back to the garage. With every step she tried to push her body into a run, without success. Back inside she moved methodically around the shelving to collect a box full of discarded ornaments.

Once again she took the walk of shame out to the truck. It was good luck not to be seen. At last the shelving had been cleared for the last awful trip outside. Feeling a little more confident she walked out into the dazzling sunshine.

"Hi Anne!" someone called from a passing car.

If not so much under control, she would have dropped the box to run like a frightened rabbit. Instead she looked up and replied. "Hi, Master."

Out of the corner of her eye she was relieved to see the car drive up to a distant house and turn into a driveway. The hire car wasn't recognisable, though it was obviously the Faculty Dean, pulling into the big old mansion. He probably hadn't heard her reply, and it may have looked as though she were wearing a bikini, for the box covered her top half.

That was no consolation. He would have something to say about such an unseemly display in the street, in broad daylight. Inwardly she cringed at the thought of what the unworldly dean would say at the next faculty meeting.

She pushed the box onto the truck wanting to cry from shame. Damn! She had her back to him, so he would now see she wore nothing but a pair of red panties. Why her husband wanted her to wear them she still hadn't figured out, and this was no time to stop to think about it.

She desperately needed to get back before he got out of the car. The box stuck on something and she had to shove the damn thing hard. It caught on another box and she had to manoeuvre that one out of the way. She heard the car door slam, and just knew he would be staring down the street at her.

When she walked back to the garage he would have a clear profile view of a large pair of breasts, pushed out in all their glory before her. She looked down at them, knowing from experience how well the suit kept them separated, pointing straight out, like two shelves.

At last the damn box was in. She turned and walked back, painfully aware of how the breasts bounced with every step. Her eyes swivelled sideways, straining for a glimpse of him.

A sigh of relief tickled her throat. He was rummaging around in the back of the vehicle. Calming down, she remembered he was badly short sighted, so probably didn't even notice what she had, or hadn't been wearing, when he cruised by.

Larry was sitting in the garage, reading through a pile of old comics. She walked up to him to await the next order. He lifted his eyes from the cartoon and blinked rapidly.

Anne saw the open page, and would have shuddered if she could. It was soft porn. The cartoon woman with huge breasts was cavorting, in what she thought to be an impossible position. She compared the improbable cartoon breasts with her own, and realised they weren't so different.

Was that how men saw her? It certainly explained the attention she got at parties. She hid them the best she could under business suits, and sensible clothing. For years she had worn modest outfits. Hiding her large breasts was a difficult task, and a failure if the students were asked.

Larry looked up at her, then down at the comic, obviously comparing the two large pairs of tits.

"You're finished then," he eventually stated the obvious.

"Yes, Master," Anne replied.

She hoped this was the end of a humiliating experience, and could return to the bedroom to change. As soon as he left she could un-set the program, for release and freedom. While her husband was away, she might even use this naughty experience in a bath-time fantasy.

She noticed the look in his eyes, and the mood of relief was replaced by anxiety. Professor Draper was never anxious, or unsure of herself. She was the most formidable professional on campus. She brooked no excuses, demanded decorum, responsibility, and dedication, from both students and her department lecturers.

He looked at the cartoon woman again, then back up at her breasts. They seemed to loom over him. He liked what he saw. He reached up and tweaked a nipple. It reacted, and the other too; flowering like buds in spring.

Even if she had been able, this was not the time to admonish a student for toying with a professor's breasts. Just the audacity of it was enough to keep her silent, and the anger kept the chance of arousal at bay.

As she thought, it didn't take him long to become bored with the swelling of nipples, on an unresponsive object. He had been testing them with pinches and pulls, to see how far they would distend. He probably thought it was an inbuilt mechanism. On an android it was impressive, but that was all that happened.

One of the sex programs hadn't been activated, so there would be no sexual reaction, with sighs of excitement. In the bedroom groans of pleasure would have been irresistible. She was thankful the student hadn't triggered a sexy role from the implant's repertoire.

"Carry these to the truck," he ordered.

They were her husband's treasured comics. This was no time to point that out.

At the small door she saw the campus bus pull into the street on its usual route, for students and faculty members to use. There wasn't even the chance of hesitating. Anne stepped out into the spotlight of a bright afternoon.

Her legs were weak from feeling faint at the sight of the vehicle. Everyone she knew, and didn't know, would hear of this. The skin tight, flesh coloured suit, wouldn't be indistinguishable from nakedness. As it slowly passed by, everyone aboard would be gawping at her, thinking she was in the garden, nude. The tale of Professor Draper cavorting around in the street, naked, would grow in the telling to unforgivable proportions.

The implant and suit kept her on track, obeying the last command, to deliver the box of comics. Again she couldn't keep from looking up, as much as she tried to avoid the embarrassment of seeing them. This time it was easy to stare right ahead, as the vehicle slowly moved past.

Her breathing slowed right down, then speeded up. There was no one in the auto-bus! No driver of course, and no one else! No fellow professors, lecturers, or even a single student was aboard.

"Get into the back of the truck, with the rest of the junk," Larry clearly stated.

The sound of his voice was definitely an order. She hadn't noticed the huskiness of arousal, though clearly heard an order that couldn't be refused.

Delivered from abject shame, she happily clambered into the back of the truck. Out of the way from anyone seeing her, she settled in among the boxes. When the back door began to slide down into place, her mood swung back to the other extreme. She looked at Larry with dire dread. The eyes behind the lenses opened wide in fright, as she tried to scream.