tagHumor & SatireTouched by a Cyber-Angel Pt. 03

Touched by a Cyber-Angel Pt. 03

byJackson Blacke©

Episode One: When Howie Met Cinda

Part 3

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NOTE TO THE READER - This is Part 3 of a four-part story. You can start with Part 1, or this part can be read independently. If you like it, go back and read Parts 1 and 2 later, and be sure to watch for Part 4.

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Nothing on Ganymede, of course, has anything to do with 24 hours. In fact, the period of its rotation and its revolution around Jupiter are the same: about 17 Earth days. So one side, the one where DuPimp's mining colony is located, is always facing the planet, and the tiny but brilliant sun is in the sky for about eight and a half Earth days at a time. But the colony still maintains Earth's 24-hour day.

So, even though the sun wasn't rising on Ganymede, and it therefore wasn't technically "morning", Howie Ricardo woke up at about 07:00 that Tuesday, still on the couch and still wearing his work clothes from the day before, the day he had finally met Lucinda, his new Beta model MicroHard Sweetheart 459 andro-companion.

Like every other morning of his adolescent and adult life, he woke with a rock-hard erection, which was remarkable considering what he had put his reproductive system through only a few hours earlier. What wasn't remarkable was that, unlike most other mornings, his head was making fierce and credible threats to blow itself up if he didn't immediately give in to its non-negotiable demands, which were: 300 milligrams of caffeine in three unmarked eight-ounce cups, delivered promptly, quietly and in the dark.

After weakly capitulating to that shameless terrorist threat, Howie quickly showered, changed and went straight to the office, from where he called MicroHard on the vid-phone at 08:00 sharp. Dexter Spielmann, the store manager had decided that Lucinda needed a few last minute adjustments before Howie could take her home, and had solemnly promised that Hal O'Brien, the store technician, would have them done by the end of the day. Howie was calling to find out from Hal what time he could pick her up.

Unfortunately for all involved, however, Tuesday turned out to be Hal O'Brien's day off. As Spielmann tried to apologize and Howie cussed him out in colorfully graphic language, he could see Lucinda making faces at the store manager behind his back.

Spielmann earnestly pledged that she would be ready by noon the following day. But when Howie called Hal on day two, he laughed quietly. "Not by noon," he said, shaking his head, "Maaaaybe by the end of the day."

But she wasn't ready by the end of that day, or the next day either, or even the day after that. All told, it took four days, twenty-three hours and fourteen minutes before Hal called Howie to tell him that the reprogramming was finished.

Howie used the waiting time, when he wasn't completely lost in sexual fantasy, to think about what he wanted to name her.

He considered Jeanie, but decided it was too similar to his mother's name, which was Eugenia. He thought about Samantha, but didn't like the idea that everyone would probably call her Sam, which was also the nickname for Earth's most popular beer, Samuel Adams Lager. If I wanted to name her after a beer, I'd just call her Heineken or Red Spot and have it over with, he thought.

He was tempted by Rebecca and Daphne, but nothing seemed exactly right. Eventually, he realized that she already had a name. And what right do I have to make her change her name? he asked himself. Maybe she likes Lucinda. Maybe she wouldn't be comfortable with a new name. At some rational level, he understood that she was just a machine and wasn't supposed to care at all what she was called, but that's not what his emotions told him.

Besides, Lucinda is a perfectly good name, he reminded himself. I can call her Cinda like Spielmann, or I can make up my own nickname, like Cindy or Lulu or Lucy.

When Hal finally called Howie, it was Saturday. "If you can get over here before we close, you can pick her up today," Hal said.

"When do you close?" Howie asked.

"Well, I'm going home now, but Mr. Spielmann will be here for about a half an hour," Hal answered.

Howie left his apartment immediately and was at MicroHard in eight and a half minutes. When he burst in through the door, out of breath and flushed, Spielmann stepped out from behind the counter, a big smile on his face, and extended his hand.

"Cinda will just be a moment," he said. "In the meantime, Earth law requires me to give this information to all new andro-companion owners." And he handed Howie two wrinkled sheets of paper. "Just so you know what to expect from the product you're buying."

The first sheet said:

The Three Laws of Robotics

1. A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.

2. A robot must obey orders given to it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.

3. A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law. (Thanks to Isaac Asimov)

And the second sheet read as follows:

Three Ancillary Laws of Andro-Companionship

1. An andro-companion may not have sexual relations with a human being other than its owner except where it has the permission of its owner or where failure to do so would conflict the First Law of Robotics.

2. An andro-companion must make all reasonable efforts to stimulate its owner's affection and sexual interest as long as such efforts do not conflict with human custom or one or more of the Three Laws of Robotics

3. An andro-companion may not unreasonably stimulate a human being's sexual interest except where the andro-companion may have sexual relations with that human consistent with the Three Laws of Robotics and the first two Ancillary Laws of Andro-Companionship, or where failure to so stimulate would conflict with one or more of those Laws.

Howie had a hard time concentrating on the text. He kept looking up to see if Lucinda was coming yet. He had just finished reading the Ancillary Laws when she appeared in the storage room doorway, straightening her clothing.

It didn't seem possible, but Lucinda was even sexier than the first time they met. Her hair was pale lavender, streaked with pink, purple and blue and sprinkled with tiny, sparkling sequins. Her large eyes were lined heavily with mascara.

She wore a tiny, bright pink, pleated skirt and a matching long-sleeved top, which was a little too short to completely cover the lower halves of her firm breasts and so tight that those lovely tits bulged out from under it as if they might escape to freedom at any moment.

Lucinda's erect little nipples showed that she was very happy indeed to see Howie. She carried a small suitcase, which Howie later learned contained a few articles of clothing and some items for basic andro-companion maintenance.

Spielmann took her by the arm and, loudly humming the Wedding March, escorted her around the counter to where Howie stood waiting. "Congratulations," he beamed to Howie. Then, turning to Lucinda, "And felicitations to you, My Dear!" And then, as Lucinda dove straight into Howie's arms, he proclaimed, "You may kiss the bride!"

It was an unnecessary announcement as the happy couple had already fallen into a deep, tongue-lashing kiss. In fact, Howie had pushed up her top and begun to knead her breasts, as she massaged his sudden erection through his pants.

I'd like to see that on top of a wedding cake, Spielmann thought, then croaked, "Ahem… Mr. Ricardo? There are still a few formalities that need to be taken care of. You need to sign off on the final paperwork. And, I've got your credit card number already so, if it's okay with you, I'll just charge the balance to your account."

It seemed as if Howie and Lucinda couldn't hear him.

He cleared his throat again. "Hey guys," he said a little more assertively. "I can appreciate your enthusiasm, Mr. Ricardo. Cinda certainly seems to be in good operating order. But we do need to get through just a little bit of business and then you can go home to your nice, private apartment and get a little privacy and enjoy your purchase… privately." He looked slightly distressed and fidgeted with the front of his pants as if there were something uncomfortable going on.

Howie continued to ignore Spielmann and pushed Lucinda up against the wall. She spread her legs widely and ground her panties against his crotch, breathing hard and moaning loudly.

"Come on, now, Howie" said Spielmann, "The sooner you sign, the sooner you can stick it in."

Howie suddenly remembered Heidi Hellerman. He reluctantly interrupted his smooching with Lucinda and backed up, just a little, and probably just in time. There was a small wet spot near his zipper, but it was from her panties, not from him. She skewered him with a glare of smoldering disappointment.

With some difficulty, Howie broke eye contact, then turned and took a pen in his right hand. But he kept his left arm tightly around Lucinda's waist.

She tugged her top back down into place, but began nuzzling his neck and nibbling on his earlobe. She wasn't going to let his erection go anywhere until she got to take care of it for him.

"This is the standard sales contract. Sign here," Spielmann turned quickly to a sheet of paper about half way through the inch-thick document. "And here. That's to authorize any additional charges which might apply," he said, flipping pages. "And here, for the acknowledgement of receipt of warrantee information." And flipping more pages, "Here, for the standard Beta-test waiver of warrantee rights. And sign here, on the waiver of liability. And here, for waiver of rights under Nader vs. MicroHard. And you also need to sign this, which is a notice of your illegal alien reporting obligation under the Terran Patriot Act of 2065. And this says we have the right to monitor the andro-companion and evaluate its performance. And this..."

"Wait," said Howie, stopping halfway through a signature. "What does that mean? You're going to 'monitor' her? Does that mean that you'll know everything she and I do? Everything?"

"Yes, of course. That's exactly what it means," scowled Spielmann. "We obviously need to know how well the android works, whether there's anything wrong with it and how to make it better. That's what Beta testing is for. How did you think we were going to going to get that data?"

"I don't know, Howie scowled right back. "I figured I'd fill out a questionnaire or something. What about my privacy rights?"

"Privacy rights?" Spielmann scoffed. "Beta-test owners don't have any. And we need technical information, not the kind of stuff you get from having someone fill out a form. But it's not like we'll be peeking in your window. Once a week, you'll bring it in here, and we'll download the detailed data and have you on your way in a matter of minutes. Or it can walk itself in. But if we're going to provide consumers with the best possible product, we need..."

Unconsciously, Howie bristled at Spielmann's use of the word "product" and his repeated use of the pronoun "it".

"Hold on just a damn minute," he interrupted angrily.

But Lucinda whispered quietly in his ear, "Don't worry, Sweetie. I'll take care of it. They won't know about anything we want to keep private, just between you and me."

He looked at her. She nodded reassuringly and Howie signed.

"And lastly," Spielmann said, "you need to sign the secrecy pledge."

"So, exactly why all the secrecy?" asked Howie as he penned his name where Spielmann indicated. "I mean, I know companies like to keep the details of their plans and new products secret so competitors can't steal them, but…"

"Ask yourself this," answered Spielmann. "Our Eager Ethel model andro-companion came out 20 years ago. Why has there never been a single upgrade, not one solitary improvement, in all that time?"

"Because you squashed any competition and had the only sex slave android on the market, and you were making trillions of dollars a year off it, and you don't really give jackshit about the customer. So why waste money improving your product when you already have a very profitable monopoly?" Howie suggested. "Just a wild guess, of course."

"Granted, that does sound like typical MicroHard business strategy," Spielmann allowed. "But we didn't have to squash any competition and we did develop several upgrades we wanted to implement. It was the Morality Movement. They came into their own right after Ethel came out, and every time someone announced their intent to develop a competing product, every time we announced we were going to begin selling a better Ethel, they lobbied quietly in the Terran Legislature. They couldn't make it illegal of course. How could they pass a law against fucking a machine? It would be unconstitutional, like a law against beating off. [The comparison drew a snort and a scowl from Lucinda.] But there was enough they could do. There were threats that tax advantages would disappear, government contracts would go to other companies, the private lives of executives would be investigated. That kind of shit.

"But this time we've developed the cyber-angel in complete secrecy. It incorporates all the improvements we wanted to make to Ethel, and much, much more. When we know the new model is really perfect, and before we make it public, the first 100 off the assembly line will go to key legislators at bargain prices. Let the Morality Movement try to stop us then. But we can't let them hear about it until we're ready to move."

"You mean I'm going to be political booty?" Lucinda asked, almost hopefully.

"Not you, Sweetheart, your little sisters," Spielmann answered. "If you work okay, you'll probably just stay here on Ganymede, with Mr. Ricardo."

"And if you decide I don't work okay, what …," Lucinda began.

Howie, who was plainly impatient to get Lucinda home, hadn't meant to launch Spielmann on a long monologue about Earthside politics and really didn't want an answer to the question Lucinda was about to ask, interrupted. "Anything else? Or can we go now?" he asked.

"Nope, I think you're good to go," Spielmann announced.

Howie shook hands with the two men. Lucinda pecked Spielmann on the cheek and favored Hal with a kiss on the lips that lasted long enough that jealousy had Howie on the verge of breaking it up. A few seconds later, he was carrying Lucinda's suitcase (which was heavier than it looked) and Hal was tossing rice as they hurried out the door.

"Over here," she said anxiously as soon as the door closed behind them. "I don't know about you, but I can't wait until we get home. There's an alley with a back door into MicroHard. It leads into a storage annex they don't use much right now."

She put her hand on the entrant identi-plate and the door swung open. She pulled Howie inside, shoved him against a crate so that he stumbled into a sitting position on it, then quickly opened his fly to free his large, long-imprisoned boner.

She put one knee on the crate and came at him from the side, eagerly licking his stiff cock and vigorously caressing it with her lips. He gasped in pleasure and slid one hand under her into the front of her panties, finding her hard clit and rolling it between his fingers. Now it was her turn to gasp. Her hot juices drooled down his fingers and made a small pool in the palm of his hand.

Then he reached over her with his other hand and, slipping it into the back of her panties, discovered and gently circled her exquisitely sensitive sphincter with his finger. She gasped again, then began a series of low, fast rhythmic grunts, as if she were about to cum.

He forced two fingers into her tight cunt and probed her asshole with the middle finger of his other hand. She groaned loudly, then quickly and enthusiastically swallowed his beefy prick to the balls.

Within seconds, he felt her body stiffen and begin its orgasmic convulsions. But she continued to massage his cock with her throat and studded tongue. Howie closed his eyes and soon felt his aching cock swell and twitch and spray big gobs of sticky sperm into her throat. She gulped it down greedily. The pleasure was so intense, his head was swimming.

But suddenly, things went horribly wrong. Lucinda began to gag, jerked her head up off Howie's cock, wide-eyed, and started projectile-vomiting his semen, spraying it all over his pants and shirt. Her orgasm shut down immediately, but Howie was still cumming forcefully. His next three wads splattered heavily across her face as he growled in frustration.

He sputtered for several seconds, then, when he could finally speak, he wailed, "What the fuck was that all about?"

"Oh, God, I'm sorry. I don't know yet," Lucinda whined apologetically. She paused a second to collect the available data, then explained, "My oral storage compartment has a sensor which is designed to identify and immediately eliminate any harmful substance I might swallow. Although semen is usually only mildly alkaline, the sensor registered a pH of over 13, which is like lye or something, and activated the automatic regurgitation response because it concluded it might damage my internal structures."

"So this has never happened before? Have you ever... you know...swallowed or taken a load of... you know... in your mouth..... before?" Howie asked.

"No, I've swallowed hundreds of loads" she said quickly. "In the lab on Earth and in…you know,… subsequent test procedures, but nothing like this ever happened."

Howie was beginning to calm down. He looked intently at Lucinda for a second. Her hair was speckled with cum, and the globs which had hit her face were now drooling down her cheeks and dangling in long, sticky webs from her chin.

"I have to say, that's a good look for you," he said with a tight little smile.

She looked down bashfully. "Thank you," she muttered, and they both exploded into hearty laughter.

Just then, they heard Spielmann's voice from the doorway to the main part of the store, which was out of sight around a corner. "Who's there, and what are you doing?" he said loudly. "Speak up before I call Security."

"Just us," sang out Lucinda as he came around the corner.

As soon as he caught sight of Lucinda's position and the spray pattern across Howie's shirt and pants, he knew instantly what had happened and clapped his hands over his mouth to stifle a loud guffaw. "Ooops," he declared with a smile. "I knew I forgot to tell you something. The Beta-testing back on Earth has already turned up one glitch. The...."

"Let me guess," interrupted Lucinda. "The oral storage area hazardous substance detectors are defective and, over time, can become over-sensitive to alkaline fluids."

"Oh, she's smarrrrrt," marveled Spielmann. "A few units do have that problem. Five now, including, apparently, Cinda. Everything goes along fine for awhile, then suddenly, … whoops, time for a sperm shower.

"The issue didn't show up until just after we left Earth. They've recalled all the other units to have the sensors replaced, but it obviously didn't make sense to recall Cinda all the way back to Earth. They've already shipped the replacement part so Hal can do the installation. It'll arrive in a few weeks. You know how slow the freight is out here.

"I was supposed to tell you about it, but..."

"You forgot?" interrupted Howie. "Oooopsie. Exhibit A," he added, spreading his arms to display the decorative wet spots showered across his shirt. "Next time, tie a fucking string around your dick. Maybe that will help you remember."

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byJackson Blacke© 0 comments/ 6811 views/ 0 favorites

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