tagMind ControlCloned Ch. 05

Cloned Ch. 05


It had to be here somewhere. Zak hunted high and low for his favourite scarf, rooting around in the back of cupboards and drawers. Suddenly as his hand fumbled through a pile of clothes at the back of one draw he found something hard and long. He gripped his hand around it, it was quite wide. He drew it out. In his hand he saw a remote for the maid. He stared at it for some moments. Funny, he thought, I hadn't thought about the maid at all in all this time. Yes this was his spare remote. He had made two as a fall back if the first one stopped working for any reason. Why was it here? He certainly couldn't recall putting it in this drawer and certainly couldn't understand why he would hide it among his clothes. It was a strange out of the way place to find it, as if it were hidden.

Slowly the uncertainties crept back into his mind, like an advancing shadow silently consuming the landscape. All the doubt about whether he had sold his wife and not the robot re-emerged. He wondered again whether the woman he could hear right now moving about downstairs was indeed Ellie or in fact the robot. He thought he had rid himself of these uncertainties, yet here they were flooding back at the slightest provocation. He suddenly realised that lying here in the palm of his hand was the means to be sure. If that was his wife downstairs, she would certainly not respond to this remote. He knew he had tested this before, but that had been the main remote. He felt sure this was not making a lot of sense, but now there was only one of them.

Zak's palms were sticky and he felt a chill run along his spine. He could see the remote was shaking in his palm at the possibility of being confronted by a monumental mistake. What would he do? He looked back at the drawer and thought of burying the remote at the back once more. Yet he knew that his peace of mind had already been irrevocably shattered. It would play upon his thoughts the remote sitting snugly at the back of this drawer, always calling to him. He could not go back to ignorance. No. He had to put an end to these doubts. He had to use the remote and make sure his wife would continue whatever she was up to regardless of the buttons he would press. She needn't know. She shouldn't know. It had to be a blind test.

The stairs creaked as he walked down them, and Zak felt anguish as he expected her to appear in the hallway and his resolve to evaporate. Yet she didn't. She was bustling about in the kitchen and humming to herself. She seemed absorbed in the work she was doing. Zak reached the hallway and saw the kitchen door ajar. He could see his wife moving about preparing them something to eat. In a moment of clarity, Zak saw how much he preferred his new wife who was not always chasing after her own career but made the house homely. He loved the smell of cooking as she prepared the meals for them and her attentiveness. Sex was amazingly hot too, much improved on the old Ellie. Oh God, I hope this doesn't work. Standing at the far end of the hall, so as not to attract her attention, he raised the remote and pointed it at the open doorway. His finger hovered over the button. He shook and had no control over it. He hated himself for having to perform this test, for doubting her. He wanted more than anything to just go back to accepting the status quo. He pressed the button.

The humming stopped.


Zak collapsed on the floor. He sobbed, his heart lurching and the remote clattered over the wood flooring. His worst nightmare had just been realised. He felt hopeless, he felt powerless, he felt duped a fool, the condemnation not only of Ellie but of everyone who knew them descended upon him. He curled up on the floor longing, desperately longing for Ellie to come through the kitchen door and see what was the matter. The sobbing echoed around the still and empty house.

He must have lain there prostrate for some time. He cursed himself for shattering his own illusion that had held his peace of mind together. He had to find her, he had to explain, to apologise to rescue her. He had to go to that man they had sold her to and ask him to give her back. How was he to explain he had sold his own wife instead of a robot by mistake?

The man had lived by himself and he had wanted a woman to look after him. He had not had much success with women. He was rather shy and set in his ways, so while he resented them as a gender for not being able to form a relationship with a woman, he also longed for the company of one. A robot maid was ideal. He would not have any of the difficulties he felt around women, and he could order it to do just exactly what he wanted. The first thing he had done when he got it home was check whether it was complete. He had lifted the skirt and pulled the panties down. His heart had leaped with the excitement when he saw the robotic cunt looking so realistic.

Zak pulled up outside the house. It looked ordinary enough from the street. It had been some time since he had last driven up and delivered Ellie to him. He felt the lump in his throat at the prospect of having to explain he needed the robot back. He took a deep breath and opened the car door.

"Want it back?"

"There is a fault we have discovered and I need it back to do some more work upon it."

"But it has been functioning perfectly. What sort of fault?"

"Well... It's ehm a software fault we think. The robot can suddenly behave strangely and we cannot predict what it might do. You could be at risk."

"Oh! At risk you say... I have not had any trouble."

"We need to recall the robot and do strenuous tests to understand what goes wrong in the software. Here is the money you paid for it and I have added another 20% compensation for your loss."

The man looked worried. He thought about what the robot could have done to him after all the training he had forced upon it. Even a robot seemed fraught with personal danger to him.

"I've sold it. You can come in and check if you don't believe me." He stood back to allow Zak to pass. He saw Zak's look of horror at the news.

"Is it that dangerous? I never had any complaints from it."

"Who did you sell it to?"

"Come in and I'll get you the address. I'm afraid it was a rather seedy place and they didn't want it for a maid." Zak turned pale. His wife had been sold into some kind of sex trade. This nightmare had just taken an unexpected turn for the worse. He was pretty sure his chances of rescuing her had just diminished considerably.

As they walked through to the back room Zak tried to understand how this man could do such a thing. "Didn't it perform its duties well?"

"Oh yes... and more," he added after a pause. He turned to look at Zak, but his face was bright red. Zak understood exactly what the 'and more' had been. He felt sick. "At first it was a lot of fun, and I thought I was happy but you know, when at last you get what you have really craved for, for so long, it somehow loses its value to you. There were other things too, and I was not at all sure I could live with. All that tidying away was obsessive and I could never find anything. I never thought I would, but I started to miss being on my own and having everything just the way I wanted it. Funny really."

Zak felt his resolve weaken. The more he found out, the more responsible he felt for what had been inflicted upon Ellie. There were some things better not to know. They went into his study and he looked through his receipts. He seemed to keep stacks of them, and some looked yellowed with age.

"Still," he continued as he searched through the paperwork, "it was only a robot so no harm was done. No messy divorce or anything. Ah! Here it is." He held up a paper and handed it to Zak. He noted down the address and fled as quickly as seemed seemly.


Her fingers slid under the thin little strips of material stretched across her hips. She leant forward and pushed her ass out as she had been instructed. She sensed the intimidating proximity of the man behind her staring appreciatively at her body but all the while judging of her performance. She slid her hands down the sides of her hips and dragged the thin strings reluctantly over the ridge. The material dragged over her ass cheeks and as she pushed the strings down the sides of her legs she bent over more.

"Easy...Easy! I told you, this is supposed to be a seduction not a fucking street whore who can't wait to drop her clothes and show the goods!"

He slapped her across the ass. It stung, maybe more for getting it wrong, for being so stupid she couldn't seem to get what it was exactly he wanted from her. She was a robot, it was important to her that she served and she served well. Satisfaction from her masters was all important to her. She pulled her panties back up over her ass and straightened up to try again.

As she bent over and tugged at the strings once more she felt him smile. It was such a curious thing. She couldn't see he was smiling, but somehow she sensed it.

"That's it, nice and slow. Now turn your head over your right shoulder and look at me." There was just so much to learn.

"Not like that," he barked. "You look like you've just woken up in some kind of stupor. You have to look innocent. That's better. Open your mouth...not too much! That's it, just leave your lower lip hanging invitingly; your eyes full of innocence as you look round, as if you have no idea what all this means to the punter. You're doing good babe."

The thin strip of material that stretched up between her buttocks tickled and opened her ass hole. It was such a stupid thing to wear. There was no purpose to it other than for taking it off. It felt to her such a relief when she pulled it out of her crack. Yet each time she had had to remove it in front of this man, while he rated how seductively she had performed, the more she felt his eyes upon her rosebud and the more she bent and opened her crack for him. She could feel his eyes upon it, like a caress, and she was excited by it.

It was the repetition and the repeated cycle of perfecting the performance that had the drip, drip effect upon her, focusing her upon how well he thought of her, this man, this stranger who would punish her ass liberally whenever he was not satisfied. At the start she had this sense that as well as being a robot, she was also somehow an academic. She looked on people with disdain who allowed themselves to be considered as sex objects. She had been proud of her intellect and this is what gave her self-worth.

Yet that had all been worn down, first through the challenge to get it right, but then slowly into a need to get it right. Each time her confidence was whittled away by the repeated reminders of how stupid she was when she got things wrong, these thoughts started to imprint themselves upon her. She started to believe it too. She was after all a robot: she was built to serve, and a robot unable to function in ways that pleased their master was useless. It was an unshakable belief. So how could intellect be enough, in fact how could she be so clever when actually she was stupid? She concentrated harder and harder on what he told her, desperate to get it right. The process had been subtle, but now all she craved was to hear his grunt of satisfaction.

"Tomorrow we will start on your fetish programme. You will learn to flaunt your body, slip into tight latex that hugs every curve, reveals every crevice and you will offer yourself to the touch of others."

He pressed the remote to switch her from training mode to off. The robot stood motionless, not a thought passed in its head. Tomorrow it would again desperately try and satisfy its master all over again. The freedoms it had once enjoyed working as a maid were gone, the imperative to become whatever it was trained to do overrode any other desire.


The man roared with laughter. He was built like a mountain, his height and build towered over Zak and intimidated him. Somehow Zak had to find a way to appeal to this man if he were to stand any chance of rescuing Ellie. He knew instinctively he had no chance to pressurise him with tales of software faults. He had come in the hope that he might be able to rescue Ellie, but in front of this wall of a man he just felt ridiculous.

"I need to buy that robot back," he had said upon finding the place from the address he had been given. The man's pale blue eyes bore into him as he contemplated the little dishevelled man in front of him. He stared for a long time without saying a thing and then retorted,

"What is this, some kind of jerk off?" his voice aggressive from the off.

"I can offer you twice the money you paid for it."

"What you think this is, some kind of refunds department? You think you can just change your mind and walk in and claim your machine back? We got clients here, and the shit they do they don't want no one to know about. There's no way we gonna let her back to you, we gotta protect our clients. What sort of fucking business you think we'd have left if we didn't respect their privacy?"

An idea occurred to the man suddenly and he changed tack. "You could be fuzz man. That machine thing could have been recording, collecting evidence. You think I'm stupid or summing?" He was becoming belligerent now and Zak's hopes of retrieving Ellie seemed to be fading. Zak had to throw his trump card. It was his only chance.

"You don't understand," he said. "It was all a mistake. I sold you my wife." Even as the words tumbled out of his mouth, Zak realised he had put it all wrong. He could hear how absurd he sounded, and yet he was desperate. Even worse, that was exactly what he had done. That was the point at which this oak of a man had started roaring with laughter at him.

"Fuck man, you mean to tell me you sold off your wife for a fucking whore!" He tilted his head back as the laughter bellowed around the room. Zak's humiliation was complete.

"You ain't... definitely you ain't having her back now." At that point another giant of a man bulging with muscle and tattoos entered the room.

"Hey Jake. This guy here..." he pointed at Zak who stood helplessly in the middle, "just sold us his wife as a whore by mistake!!" Zak turned, hoping for even a little compassion from this other guy.

"You fucking kidding me?? What kinda asshole sells his wife by mistake?"

"Look forget her," the other one said. "She ain't never goin to be the same person after what she's been through. You'd best just forget her. She's nothing more than a whore now. These whores become dependent on the treatment they receive, they need it. They don't trust themselves no more, they only become sure of themselves when they are mistreated. I've seen 'em change, and it runs deep... too deep, they can never reverse it. Believe me, she ain't worth shit now. Just forget her."

"You know you could join her," the other man added. "We have plenty of clients who would take you on as their bitch. Prise open that cute little ass of yours. I see you hanging around here and I may start to think you harbour desires to join her too."

Zak fled, his buttocks clenched tight.


"Well cunt, you want my cock in you?"

Ellie hung suspended by ropes from the ceiling. They snaked and dug into her tightly all over like a myriad of arms pinching and pulling, prising her open like a piece of meat. The black latex she wore was so thin as it stretched taut over her body. She felt it pulling across her mound and dipping between her outstretched legs. She could feel it pressed up against her cunt. She had checked it in the mirror before the client had arrived, to make sure her engorged lips were clearly visible through it, and her clit made a little bulge in the smooth, shiny layer which caught the light. She was relieved that he had enjoyed twisting and pulling on it. All that was important to her now was the pleasure of her clients.

"It is ready for you. Fuck it with your big hard cock."

"You need this, don't you? I can see it in your eyes, and hear it in the quaver of your voice. You are hooked on this."

"I do need it. I will not feel at ease until you have taken your pleasur4e from me."

He ripped through the thin latex seal with the head of his cock, deflowering her like a virgin.


Zak had been drinking again. He had hit the bottle hard and Ellie wondered what had made him turn to drink. He seemed inconsolable. She wished she could do something to help, but she understood he needed this space and her being around him wasn't helping any. She fretted silently to herself.

After the fury and the destruction that he wanted to wreak upon the robot, for somehow hoodwinking him, for getting rid of his wife for tricking him into selling her, came the depression. He wanted to abandon all his research. He wished he had never ever thought of the idea of a robotic clone. It had made sense. There were people who never got over a loved one that had either passed away or had left them. A clone of that person would fill the deep void in their longing. He had had good reasons behind his research. Now he was paying a heavy price for his naivety.

What stayed Zak's hand when he held the hammer, feeling the weight heavy pulling on his arm as he stood before the inert incapacitated robot, was the very same thought. Here he was, having lost his wife and not being able to find her, not being able to rescue her, in need of the very thing he had designed the robot for. Not only that, but this robot was indeed her clone. He was attached to the robot and could not bring himself to destroy it. Perhaps too it was the fact that it looked and acted like his wife that made it as impossible to mangle this robot as it would be to hit his own wife with a hammer.

Zak's emotions roller-coasted: he hated the thing and loved it to. It was the last contact with Ellie and he had lived happily with it up to the time he had discovered the truth. While he felt rage at it, he also needed it and he could not resolve this. He drank to quell the turmoil. He had to confront it that was the only way out of this situation. He had to show the remote and let it know he knew. He stormed off up to the drawer where it was hidden away and took it down. Ellie, or whatever he should call it now, was hoovering the floor. He tapped her on the shoulder and signalled her to switch off the machinery. She blinked at him and complied. He landed the remote heavily on the table. He had not intended to be so dramatic, but he seemed to have little control over his emotions these days. Ellie stared at the remote and then at him. She turned pale.

"I know," he said.

She stared into his eyes and there was fear there. She slowly shook her head from side to side. "It is not what you think."

"My wife is working now in some whore house." He gasped for breath and couldn't say more. He recoiled from the words.

"I know. I can feel everything she is going through, but she is not your wife. I am."

"Don't give me that shit!" he screamed.

"Open it up. It is not like the other one."

"How do you know there was another one? I had forgotten myself!"

"Listen Zak, I know this all sounds so confusing, but open it and you will see."

Zak hesitated. He didn't trust this machine. He knew there must be some trick, some twisting in his head that it was doing. He should resist. He should just break it up into little tiny pieces so that it couldn't get at him anymore. But as always, he was torn. He looked down at the remote on the table, undecided.

"How do you mean you know everything she is going through?"

Ellie stared at him a long while without speaking.

"I don't know. I know she has been trained to be a whore. She is not the same as she was. She has changed, she has become the whore. She needs it now. She can't live without the sex, without the need for reassurance that the client will want to use her."

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