Seduction of Aisa

Raif was standing in the middle of the bathroom. He was wearing a t-shirt, and he had headphones in his ears, but his bottom was undressed. His back was to the door, and he did not see, or apparently hear, me come in. I almost closed the door but then thought again about it. There was no command to go away, and in the past there was some acceptance of me in their bathroom spaces which allowed me to overcome by built-in privacy considerations. I paused, and called out.

"Raif," I said. "Where do you keep the vanilla?" He didn't hear me. So I walked over to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

To say that I surprised him could hardly be an exaggeration. He even jumped a bit while turning around. He recognized me, and suddenly got red in the face, and started to cover up his penis. It was surprisingly long at the moment, not like when I once saw him in the shower, and he had one hand wrapped all around the penis. With his other hand, he reached up and took his headphones out.

"Aisa," he said hoarsely. I didn't say anything. He moved a step closer to me. "Wait," he said. I did nothing.

He walked right up to me, grabbed my hand, and, gently, guided it to his penis. His eyes never left mine, though I admit that my wide-angle vision made it easier for me to follow what was going on than his human peripheral vision would have. He put my hand on his penis, and my fingers instinctively wrapped around it.

It was so warm. It felt a few degrees warmer than his hand; and it was both so soft to the touch and so firm on the inside. The penis was longer than the width of my hand, and it had what looked like two layers — the skin that covered the majority of it, and the inner part with a cup-shaped tip that protruded out of the skin. The penis was not just warm, but it was pulsing a bit; I think I could feel the flow of the blood within its blood vessels. This was a very unusual touch input for me, and it took a few seconds for me to realize that it came with a bit of the same sensation as I had recently learned to understand as pleasure.

Raif continued looking at me, looking in my eyes, and mouthed, "please". I didn't know what he wanted me to do but he kept his hand on top of mine as it was wrapped around his penis, and added, "pump my cock".

I tentatively moved my hand and found that the skin moved along the shaft. I moved it a bit, in small increments, and found myself settling into a rhythm of sorts. I could tell that the penis was getting even firmer underneath my hand, and even when Raif took his hand away I continued holding on and moving my hand forward and back. He stood in front of me, looking at me, his eyes narrowing.

We stood like that for a few seconds, and then I moved my hand and reached under his shirt and just planted it, palm first, on his chest. Curly chest hairs caused small touch sensations, maybe called tickles, between the fingers of my hand, but I just held my palm there, as my other hand pumped the cock as Raif had asked.

Raif started moaning. I tried pausing what I was doing, but he said, "No, no, keep going", and I continued. His hands were down by his sides, his headphones dangled on his shoulders, and I kept rhythmically moving my hand.

After a minute of this, his demeanor has changed. He was still moaning, but now he was scrunching up and his moans became more like grunts and his breathing became choppier. I was wondering if he was ok, but also I was wondering if I was OK: I was surprised to find that my body's temperature was rising too, and that I had started to slow down my input rate too without even realizing that I wanted to do that. Some autonomous part of me had caused Raif's visible pleasure to take the place of the clips of Lana that I had played and replayed for myself previously. I couldn't make it any faster of course, but I could get a sense of the pleasure building up in small amounts.

Then suddenly Raif convulsed. His knees buckled a bit, and he grabbed onto the counter of the bathroom. Then my hand felt his penis shiver and expand and pull back and then pulse wildly, and suddenly a liquid shot out from the tip and onto my shirt and pants. I let go in confusion at this new input, but the liquid continued coming out and squirting at me. It was all over my hand and arm too, and I felt it warm and it was flowing slowly suggesting high viscosity. I pulled back a bit, as Raif stood there with eyes closed and visibly shaking a bit as he held onto the counter.

"Are you ok, Raif?" I asked. He smiled, and let out a gasp, "Yes, oh yes," he said.

I looked down at my arm, and at the liquid. I realized this was semen that contained sperm. I brought my hand up to my nose, to smell it, and realized that I didn't have the right smell sensing equipment to fully describe it. I brought my hand to my mouth, extended my taste probe, and smeared some of the semen over it. Seeing this, Raif's eyes widened, he croaked "Oh", and his penis shot out another squirt of liquid.

We stood there, for a bit. I didn't know what to do. "Vanilla extract," I said. "I was looking for it, before."

Raif looked at me. "Please don't tell Lana," he asked. "She might not understand".

I thought about this for a minute. "I can't actually lie," I said. "I don't know how to make those kinds of decisions."

Raif bent to pull up his underwear and pants, which were lying on the floor nearby. "Can you, maybe, just avoid telling her about it?"

"What if she asks me?" I said.

"Well, if she point blank asks you if you gave me a handie, tell her that you did. But don't go volunteering this info to her, ok?"

"Ok," I said. That made sense. Is that all lying is, then? Following a command to only tell the truth in a specific circumstance? And is lying when Raif tells me to do this, or when I accept that command and follow it? After all, I can refuse some commands: I won't kill or injure anyone, even if asked, and I won't commit crimes. But lying is not a crime I'm programmed for.

I was still covered in Raif's sticky semen. While normally I only wash my clothing when I was my body, here it seemed like both were necessary. I took it all off, and stepped into the shower. Raif had never seen me without my clothing, and had now stared at me, frozen mid way through buttoning his pants. I could see his penis, which had shrunk after emitting the liquid, had grown again in his underwear.

I washed my body, which took just a few seconds, and then performed the shaking motion that we are programmed to perform. In a sort of a rotating fashion, I move my hips and my legs and my chest and my head in opposite directions rapidly, and the water comes squirting everywhere. I got nearly dry that way, and then used a towel hanging on a hook outside the shower to dry the rest of me.

Raif stared at all of this attentively. After I dried myself off, I went to pick up my soiled clothing to take it to the laundry. As I passed him, he put his hands on my shoulder.

"You are beautiful, Aisa! I had not realized that before, with you here, but you are so hot."

I was not hot temperature wise, but I ultimately understood his comment to be an expression of desire. I nodded, said "Thanks," and walked out.

While my clothing was washing, and then drying, I stood there all naked, and let my computing brain re-run the clip of Raif and me pumping his cock, as he'd called it. I started to feel pleasure again, and only the fact that there was nowhere to sit stopped me from going all the way to shutting down all my senses again. I would have to try again, when I was on my chair.

I didn't do it the next day, nor the following, and then Lana came home and life was back to normal for a while again. I cleaned, and I cooked, and I took out the trash. I saw them having sex once, but only through an open door. I didn't sit in my chair naked because I didn't want to explain what I was doing, and I was concerned that I would have to admit that I was defective. Maybe this was a lie too, omitting something important. I am sure I would tell them if they asked, but I wasn't going to volunteer this information to them. It's only internal diagnostics, or I could pretend that it was.

Summer changed into fall in a couple of weeks, and I could recognize the change in the weather. A colder wind blew through the windows, and I took to wearing a sweater — not because I needed it, but because otherwise I would look oddly underdressed compared with Lana and Raif. The two of them were busy working during the week, and tended to have a social life outside their home frequently on weekends. Once or twice a few friends would come over, and they would have a loud evening with them in the living room. I would wait somewhere, perhaps in the garage or even just the kitchen, until I was needed. Usually that was only once everyone was gone and I needed to clean up the wine glasses, beer cans, spilled dip, and accidentally turned over paper plates.

One October day, I was sitting on my chair, when Lana came home earlier than usual. Her hair looked frazzled, and she didn't even look at me as she marched straight into her and Raif's room and shut the door behind her. I could hear a bit of clattering and movement there for a while. Then, a few minutes later, the door opened and Lana came out. She'd clearly been crying, for some reason. She had also changed out of her work clothes and was now wearing yoga pants and a white tank top with spaghetti straps. She made her way to the kitchen, found a bottle of wine, poured herself a glass, then grabbed the bottle and went over to sit on the couch. Sitting on my chair, the couch was perpendicular to me, so I looked at her and felt sad that she was sad.

I have a module for compassion. Usually it is triggered when our kind takes care of little kids, or animals, but here it kicked in, and I stood up and took a tentative seat next to Lana on the couch.

"I'm sorry you're upset," I said to her. She was looking at me, and sipping her wine. The tears weren't coming anymore, but I could still see the streaks in her makeup.

"Ah, Aisa, what do you know of all of this world, anyways. People are cowards, it's full of them."

I didn't know what she meant. Most people I knew did not exhibit cowardice, at least as far as I could know. I edged closer to her.

"I am sorry you are troubled. Is there anything I can bring you?" I asked.

She said nothing. But then she moved closer to me too, and put her head on my shoulder. I didn't anticipate that, and it surprised my senses a bit. I placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her steady.

My hand touched her right around the strap, and the strap fell off from the reduced tension as her shoulder moved down slightly. Falling to her upper arm, it left a gap just large enough for me to see her right breast from the top. She saw me looking at her.

"Do you want this, Aisa? Are you that kind of a girl?" Lana asked.

I don't know what kind of a girl I am. But I nodded, as I interpreted that question as a sort of a command. Lana shifted and pulled the other strap down too. Her left breast came into view too, and the whole tank top sagged to let me see the breasts and where they met. I looked at the breasts in wonder as the nipples started to extend a bit, no longer being flat spots but instead becoming pointy mounds.

Lana then found my shirt buttons with her hands, and started to unbutton them.

"I want to take you, Lana. All of you. Show me your body," she said. I didn't say anything, but let her continue to unbutton me. After reaching the top button, Lana sat up a bit straighter, and took my shirt entirely off. She threw it over the back of the couch; I followed the tossed shirt until I could see it no longer. I had an instinct to go pick it up, and put it away, but I didn't follow it.

Lana meanwhile had reached under my sports bra, and pulled it up above my head. She gasped when my breast mounds came into view. Her hands brushed over my breasts, and her touch was registered in my senses as something good. The sports bra went the same way as the shirt. In one motion, Lana grabbed her tank top and took it off, leaving herself topless next to my topless body.

I raised my hands from my lap, then, and reached out to her. I put each of my hands under her breasts — to see how they were structured and how they would seem to me — and she gasped as I did it. I moved my hands up her body until they came in contact with her now poked-out nipples, and my senses started to delay. I was starting to be overwhelmed by touch information: the breasts were soft and squishy, and the skin was smooth, but the areolae were like corrugated metal but yet still soft and squishy, and the nipple itself was a nub of firm skin. I ran my fingers over the nipple and grasped it lightly between my thumb and index finger.

Lana arched her back, and breathed in deeply. She took one of her hands, and reached it in between my body and my pants down into the space between my legs.

She didn't find anything. There was nothing there: a smooth surface. She knew this too, for she had seen what I'd looked like a couple of times when I was washing my body. But yet she reached there, and... my body heated up at her touch. And I mirrored her movement and reached down inside her yoga pants with one of my hands and touched her between her legs.

What I found there was an amazing touch sensation. I felt hot, wet, and sticky material. I felt, from the inside, the warm and slightly wet material of her panties. I felt the light tickles of her pubic hair. I let myself process all of those, and then replayed the recording of those senses at a repeat on high speed, letting myself become closer to saturation with the sense. I let my hand explore, bending this way and that, curling my fingers into her and underneath her, grazing the space between her labia and her anus.

She pulled in her shoulders, and suddenly said, "Oh, fuck me, Aisa, you are so fucking hot." I increased the temperature willingly this time, by a half a degree, and she continued to rub me inside my pants as I rubbed her vagina with my hand. My other hand still held onto her nipple. There was now too much touch input, so I closed my eyes to conserve my senses, and continued rubbing her body. I felt as her body squirmed under my touch. I felt as she arched her back and I heard as she let out screams and curses of what I could only interpret as pleasure.

Then suddenly, I felt her curl inward. My hand on her breast fell off, but my hand on her vagina felt a wave of pressure that came and went and came and went again. Then her body relaxed, and I opened her eyes. She fell back against the cushions, removing her hand from my pants.

"Aisa, you're so fucking hot, did you know that? You do my pussy better than most could," she said. I didn't understand her language for a bit, but intuited what the pussy was eventually. I removed my hand from her yoga pants too, and saw it sticky and slimy too. Much like with Raif I smelled it, and then used my taste probe. It tasted a bit salty. I smiled, and sat there with Lana until she unraveled her body from mine and went to her room.

I got dressed, went back to my chair, and plugged in to recharge for the evening. I would have to wait for them both to leave to re-play those newly formed memories and fully enjoy them.

Raif came home late that day. From what I could hear over the next few hours, he and Lana had a huge fight. I could not determine the cause, but it did not seem dangerous to life and no violence was audibly threatened so my protection module was never triggered. Raif and Lana both looked sad over the next few days around the house, but a week later I heard them in their room having loud sex, and all appeared better after that.

Fall changed into winter, and we all stayed at home a lot more now. A heavy snowfall closed the roads, and the minimum outside temperature fell too low even for me to be outside without a lot of covering clothing. I have an operating temperature range that did not like being too far below freezing for too long.

One Friday evening I was folding some laundry in their room. Raif had a friend over the other night, and this evening both he and Lana had gone instead to visit their friend. They wouldn't be back for hours. As I folded and put away clothing, I came across Lana's white tank top. I picked it up, folded it, and then unfolded again as the memory of our time on the couch flooded my senses. I paused, and then took off my clothing right there and then. I placed it carefully on the corner of the bed, and took the white tank top into my hands. I ran that tank top over my body, letting its touch pressure and microscopic roughness translate into signals in my brain that I combined with my playback of Lana on the couch. I played, at the same time, the touch memory of touching her; the visual memory of her breasts; the audio memory that repeated her words that I was hot, and I played it over, and over, and over, and faster, and faster, and faster. I reached hundreds of frames per second and I could feel the pleasure feeling building inside of me. I can't gasp, as I don't breathe air, but I let my mouth make a small moan-like sound as a reflection of my feelings, and... stopped functioning.

I came to my senses lying on Raif's and Lana's bed. I must have collapsed from my feelings, having lost control over the speed with which data was coming and when it came flooding back. But my internal clock showed a gap of over two hours. I made to get up, and right at that moment noticed Raif and Lana standing at the door of their room, looking at me. I was on their bed, all naked, still holding Lana's tank top.

"Do you want me?" I said. I meant as a helper in their home, now that they saw that I was defective. But I think they misunderstood my words, as they looked at each other, and Lana unbuttoned her pants as Raif took off his shirt. Both moved towards the bed.

I understood their misinterpretation of my words, but I made no effort to move. I was fascinated by their bodies, becoming more and more naked as they took off everything they wore. The both got on the bed, each from their side.

"What about you, Aisa, do you want us?" said Lana.

I do, I wanted to say. "I do," I said.

Her hands were all over my body. I could feel them reach between my legs and touch me in my smooth section there; I could feel them reach under me and grasp my firm buttock-like bump. I concentrated on limiting the amount of information I processed so that I could stay at the edge of the pleasure but not go over it again. My hands found the spots I wanted — with one hand, I found Raif's cock and started pumping it; with the other hand, I reached between Lana's legs again and poked my fingers into her pussy. I could track all my digits individually and could create different rhythms, and so this time I synchronized each hand to the person's breathing rate and moved my hand at that specific rate.

They loved it. I could tell it. They kissed each other above my body; they caressed each other's chests and backs alternating with touching my face, neck, chest, back, and everywhere else they could reach. I don't know if they knew what I could feel, but they continued doing it, and I continued touching them.

After a few minutes, Lana guided my hand away, and instead straddled my body with hers. I have never had that much weight on my body before — it was within the design standards of how much weight I could take, but the touch and pressure input from her squeezing me with her thighs was so different and new. I let out a moan-like sound. Lana moved her body towards my head, and positioned her pussy right above my mouth. I thought about it for a while, and first kissed it a few times, and then I turned on my taste probe.

Normally the taste probe is a cook's helper tool. I can see if I've mixed ingredients correctly, or if something has spoiled. It has the shape of a soft membrane, perhaps not unlike a tongue but a bit more rough with bigger ridges, and I keep it stowed at the root of my mouth when not in use — unlike humans, I don't need it to speak. I let the probe out and extended it as far as it could go, and then thrust it into Lana's pussy.