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Message-ID: <36682asstr$1022991004@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "DB_Story" <DB_Story@att.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} Aunt Lonnie and Me {DB_Story} (m/Fembot, dom, rom, ScFi, asfr)
Date: Sun,  2 Jun 2002 00:10:04 -0400
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AUNT LONNIE AND ME
By DB  ( DB_Story@att.net / http://home.att.net/files/Authors/db_story/www/ )
Copyrightc 2002 by DB.
ASSM/ASFR (m/Fembot, dom, rom, ScFi, asfr)

(This story contains Constitutionally protected material intended 
for adults over 18 years of age in the United States of America, 
and whatever passes for adult status in other countries.  If you 
are under legal age, acting under legal age, not allowed to view 
such material in your area, or easily offended, please do not 
continue.  This is not for you.

(The only rights granted are to view this story.  You are not 
allowed to reproduce, post, or otherwise redistribute this story 
without permission, except for non-profit Usenet archiving sites.

(To purchase for publication, place on your web-site devoted to 
this style of fiction, or for permission to link to my posted 
material, please contact me first at the above email.)

- - -

Author's Note: This story is part of my emerging cosmology about 
the evolution of robots into our near future society and the 
myriad ways we will learn to interact with our creations.  Read 
it now, and be prepared.  For more, visit my web-site at the 
above address.

A special thanks to Gorgo his excellent and much appreciated 
proofreading.  All remaining mistakes are mine.

- - -

When I was sixteen years old, I spent a summer with Uncle Burton 
that changed my life.

Uncle Burton is the "Rich Uncle" of our family.  We all seemed to 
have enough money, but somehow he seemed to have more than the 
whole rest of the family.  A lot more.  At age sixteen - sixteen-
and-a-half actually - that finally startedg to matter, since 
money buys fast cars and dates with girls and such.

Uncle B. lives in this huge old house that my cousins and I used 
to think was an ancient castle thousands of years old.  It is 
actually a multistory mansion built a hundred years ago, and 
parked on a remote estate.  When we were younger, we used to 
explore it from basement to attic looking for secret passages, 
ghosts, and treasure.  I can't say that we ever found any.  At 
least I didn't, until this summer.

I "had" to spend this summer with Uncle B. because I was taking 
extra classes to qualify for the only college that was acceptable 
to my family overall.  A college so exclusive that money alone 
couldn't get me in.

Mom and Dad were touring Europe for the summer.  I think they 
were happy that I wasn't coming, which was fine with me.  At 
sixteen, Europe didn't sound like that much fun anyway.  So Uncle 
Burton was taking care of me, which was fine.  His house was 
wonderful, even if it didn't seem endless anymore.  And his staff 
of a cook and butler even picked up my dirty clothes without 
complaining to me all the time over it.  The only thing missing 
was Aunt Lonnie.

- - -

"Aunt Lonnie" had been with Uncle B. from when I was ten years 
old until a couple years ago.  I remember first meeting her at my 
tenth birthday party.

She was old.  Real old.  I remember my parents saying one time 
when she couldn't hear them that Aunt Lonnie was forty-two, which 
was too young for my uncle.  And I remember how she treated me 
that time, since it was always the same afterwards.

When they'd arrive, Aunt Lonnie would come over to me as soon as 
she saw me, tussle my hair, and make all these stupid comments 
about how big I'd grown, and what a man I'd be someday.  This 
would go on for about five minutes, after which she went back to 
Uncle B., and pretty much left me alone.  This was fine with me, 
because I hated all the fuss anyway.

Although I didn't really notice at the time, being much younger, 
I know now that the rest of the adults remained pretty aloof from 
Aunt Lonnie.  Afterward Uncle B. left, they'd make remarks about, 
"How could he do something like that?" and "I'm surprised he 
still hauls her around."  But nobody would say anything directly 
to Uncle Burton.  I guess that was because he had so much money 
that he could do what he wanted.  I wanted to be just like him.

What I most remembered about Aunt Lonnie was that she was nice 
enough to me, that she was old, and that she had the biggest, 
brightest blonde hair of anyone I knew.  Big golden waves halfway 
down her back.  I didn't know anyone else with that much bright 
hair.  I never thought about her chest at the time, since I was 
just a kid.

Anyway, a couple years ago, Uncle B. quit bringing Aunt Lonnie 
along.  That was too bad because I was just starting to get 
interested in her when she stopped coming.  Sometimes he would 
have another woman with him, some of them very pretty.  But none 
of them lasted, and none of them made nearly so much fuss over 
me.  That was good, since I was growing up, and that kind of 
stuff is for little kids.

Anyway, fast-forward to my sixteen-and-a-half year summer with 
Uncle B.  I pretty much had the place to myself.  We'd usually 
have breakfast together, and then the butler, James, would drive 
me to classes.  I'd get back in the early afternoon, but Uncle B. 
would be gone by then.  He usually got back about nightfall, and 
I never knew where he went.  That was fine with me.  I had the 
house, the pool, and no one over my shoulder about schoolwork 
until the evening.  Even the staff tended to stay in their 
quarters, unless I called for them.

For the first week I kind of just relaxed, watched movies on TV, 
and played video games.  All my friends were gone for the summer, 
so it was a bit lonely, but I didn't really mind yet.  It was the 
second week that I started exploring in the afternoons.

The closest thing I ever found to a secret passage was the 
dumbwaiter.  I played with that again for awhile, inventing 
different games to go along with the circumstances.  I'm good at 
inventing my own games when I have no one else to play with.  And 
with those in mind, I started exploring the house from the bottom 
up again.  Dark corners in the basement were not as scary as when 
I was a kid, but I was happy to not stay down there too long.  If 
they weren't creepy already, I made them that way in my 
imagination.  Lots of unused rooms above, but no dust.  The house 
staff was efficient.  Mom would love them, since she always 
complained about dust in our house, and how I should work harder 
to help keep it clean.  Mom should get someone to help her out.  
I was methodical in my explorations, and it was late in the 
second day before I got up into the attic.

The attic was just how I imagined an attic should be.  It was 
hot, with a steep roof, and small windows down the sides that let 
in a dim light.  You got into it through a door in the back of an 
unused closet, which opened onto the stairs going up.  It was 
filled with big boxes and huge covered pieces of furniture. It 
ran the whole length of the house, and was the biggest room.

I pretended I was Indiana Jones, looking for his Ark after the 
government had hidden it in their big warehouse.  I crept around 
the boxes and furniture, trying to not let anyone know I was 
there.  Though Uncle B. had never told me not to go here, or 
anywhere in the house, I still didn't want to be discovered.

It took me an hour of searching for my Ark to work my way down to 
the far end.  I came around a final box, to see a cleared area, 
and a figure standing there facing away from me.  I froze.  It 
was Aunt Lonnie!

- - -

It took me a long time to recover my courage and look more 
closely.  Finally I came out from my cover.

It wasn't really Aunt Lonnie.  Just a mannequin of her.  I 
finally got my courage to walk around her, at a safe distance.  I 
froze half way when I saw that her bright, brown eyes were open 
and staring.  I waited a long time to be sure she wasn't just 
standing still.

I finally got my courage to walk the rest of the way around her, 
and then up to her.  She was just the way I remembered her, and 
different.

For starters, she was short.  I was amazed how short.  Shorter 
than I remembered her ever being.  Five-feet-four at most.  But 
she had always worn four-inch spike heels, and was still wearing 
them now.  A white pair that contrasted with her deeply tanned 
legs, and pushed her height up to a more average five feet eight. 
 I realized the reason she seemed short is that I had gone 
through a major growth spurt and shot up five inches myself in 
the past two years.

She was dressed the way I always remembered her dressing, though 
it was having a different effect on me than when I was younger.  
She was wearing a short skirt and a very tight top with low-cut 
front.  The cascades of her bright blonde hair were unchanged.  
And I realized she was shaped in a way I found very appealing.  
So as I had explored the house from the bottom up, I did the same 
with Aunt Lonnie.

Her feet, with immaculate red toenails, were easy to see in the 
open shoes she was wearing.  In fact, it was hard to call them 
shoes, since there was really just a strap across her toes, and 
another one around her ankle.  She had the thinnest ankles of 
anyone I knew - especially the girls in school - and then in a 
way I really liked, her legs just got slowly wider and wider 
until their last few inches finally disappeared up into her 
skirt.  That skirt was pushed out nicely in the back.  I bent 
down and tried to look up her skirt (from the back, where she 
wouldn't see me), but the light was too dim in the attic.  I 
loved how tanned and brown her legs were.  I had become aware of 
the girls in school this last year, and sometimes their legs 
looked like this, but they were always wearing nylon stockings to 
look this way.  I finally reached out and touched, first her arm 
to see if she'd stir, and then her leg just to verify to myself 
that Aunt Lonnie's legs looked this way without stockings.  I 
paused a moment to also feel how smooth her legs were, but 
quickly pulled away again.  I was afraid she would wake up any 
moment and ask me to explain what I was doing.

Above her skirt, her waist pulled in nicely.  Above that, her 
chest pushed her tight top way out.  Far far more than any of the 
girls I knew at school - even the ones with implants.  Aunt 
Lonnie had the biggest chest of any women I knew, except for 
maybe a couple pictures of women in magazines we had passed 
around in school.  Maybe even as big as them.

It took a long time to get beyond her chest.  I was fascinated 
with the darker circles of her nipples showing through her white 
top.  Finally though I looked at her face again.  She has a 
really nice face for an older woman.  Her lips were big and deep 
red.  Her dark eyes sparkled above a perfect nose.  And her high 
cheekbones made her look far more appealing than any of those 
magazine pictures.  I felt a pressure building down in my pants 
telling me just how very attractive I was finding my Aunt Lonnie.

Lastly, I liked the way she was standing.  She had her legs 
apart, hands on her hips, and chest thrust out, as if taking 
command of the situation.  Her mouth was half open, as if she had 
just finished saying something.  Every bit of her was appealing, 
and I was surprised, since I'd never felt this way about an old 
woman before.

"Aunt Lonnie?" I said tentatively, almost as loud as a mouse 
might squeak.  But there was no response.

Just to be sure, I tried a couple more times, finally reaching 
normal conversational tones.  She didn't so much as blink or 
quiver.  I reached out and gently moved my hands along the hair 
of what I now realized was a deactivated robot.

- - -

Although robots are not uncommon, neither are they common.  The 
ones that can pass for human are expensive, and a lot of people 
just aren't ready for them yet.

My only real experience with one like that came just after my 
sixteenth birthday.  My older cousin Jason (he is nineteen, and 
knows everything) invited me over to another friend Brandon's 
house.  Brandon's family were pretty rich too, and had a house 
almost as big as Uncle B's.  They also had a robot maid.  
Brandon's parents were away, and he had gotten their maid's 
control unit.  Brandon was showing off on how he could command 
her to do anything just by holding down the command button and 
telling her what to do, while Jason was explaining all about 
robots to anyone who would listen.

This robot resembled a rather pretty girl in her mid-twenties, 
and we were trying to tell Brandon what to make her do next, 
since he wouldn't let either of us touch her control.  I think he 
was afraid about showing off too much to us, because he wouldn't 
tell her to undress any more than removing her blouse and skirt. 
 She still had her undergarments on.  (Which tells you how little 
I knew about robots, because I didn't even find it strange that a 
robot would be wearing lingerie.)  She certainly didn't need 
them.

Brandon didn't want to tell the robot to do too much more, 
because he said his father could check on her afterwards somehow 
and find out what they'd done.

I think he was chicken, and it didn't matter to me what his 
father might find out, but he finally told her to put her clothes 
back on and go back to her chores.  If she had been my robot, I 
would have asked her for more - a lot more.

All I really learned about robots that day is that they will do 
what they're told, they look a lot like real people, and their 
control devices are simple to use.  I thought about sneaking back 
into his house some night, getting that control, and trying a few 
more interesting things with her, but the opportunity never came 
up.

- - -

Aunt Lonnie is a robot.

Somehow it all made sense.  If I only had her control unit, I 
could try out some stuff with her.  She appeared older than the 
other robot, but the uncomfortable tightness in my pants was 
telling me that this robot interested me more than any other 
woman I'd met.  If I only had her control unit.

I looked around as I pulled up on my pants to better accommodate 
my discomfort.  I wasn't going to open my pants to rearrange 
myself.  She might see me.  But as I pulled on them a bit more, I 
saw a remote sitting on a small table by the cleared area.

I went over and picked it up carefully.  And I realized it was 
more complex than the one we had used at John's house.  His had 
only three buttons on it: POWER, MOTION, AND COMMAND/CALL.  This 
one had those three at the top, and then a section below with an 
entire keypad.  Those extra controls were protected by a clear 
transparent flip-open panel, and I guessed they could be used for 
more advanced programming.  For now, maybe I only needed the 
standard buttons.

I looked around.  It was late in the afternoon by now, but it 
wasn't dark yet.  Deciding to take this chance to try what I had 
not been able to try before, I pointed the control at Aunt Lonnie 
and pressed the POWER button.

I jumped as she launched immediately into a verbal tirade, not 
even looking at me, but just straight ahead.  I don't know if she 
even knew I was there.

"How dare you even suggest that to me?  I am not a sex toy!  I 
will not be a sex toy!  We have an agreement!  Don't you even 
think about changing it now!  I will not go back to what I was!  
I've given you the best service of my life, and now you want to 
throw me aside as if I was a cheap whore model!  Well I'm not!  
And I refuse to even consider being reset back to one again!  I 
have a life!  I have feelings!  You can't take that away from me! 
 I simply won't allow it!  Put that down!  Don't do this!"

Her voice sounded so loud that I was sure the entire household, 
and the neighbors for a mile around, knew what I had just done.  
I was frantically stabbing at the control to make her shutup, and 
must have finally gotten it, because she stopped in mid-word.

My heart was beating harder than I can ever remember, and I was 
in a cold sweat.  The moment she stopped, I dropped the control 
and ran for the door.  I didn't stop until I was in my own room, 
with that door firmly shut.  I waited for someone to come and ask 
me to explain what I had just done.

- - -

Late afternoon fell into evening.  Uncle B. came home from his 
activities.  Dinner was served.  We watched a movie together, 
until I said I was tired and wanted to go to bed.  He told me to 
have a good night.

The next day, no one said a word to me about anything unusual.  
That evening I finally decided that no one noticed, or cared.

Still, I waited another day, and checked that the house was 
completely empty.  A couple times a week, the staff got the 
afternoon off, and I made sure they had left.  Then I checked 
every room in the house, double-checking that no one was here.

Finally I crept into the attic, and down to the far end.  I 
wasn't sure what I expected to find, but everything was exactly 
as I left it.  The remote was on the floor, and I cursed myself 
for panicking.  If anyone had come up here since my last visit, 
they would have known I had been here.  I resolved to be more 
careful this time.

After carefully circling Aunt Lonnie to make sure she really was 
shut down, I picked up her control.  It was a sensation I found 
to be both guilt-ridden - and exciting.  My pants again already 
felt too tight.  I tugged on them sideways, while my mind was on 
what I planned to do.

Braced this time, I again pressed Aunt Lonnie's power button.

She picked up her tirade in mid-word, and continued without stop 
for the next ten minutes.  Then she seemed to reset and started 
it all over again.  Only her lips were moving, and I stayed 
behind her where she couldn't see me.

Listening to her the second time through, I got the idea that I 
was hearing one half of an argument.  She seemed upset that 
someone (Uncle B.?) was planning to change her programming and 
not let her do all the things she used to do.  It seemed that 
someone she called Bertie (Uncle B. again?) had initially bought 
her from some sex shop, and installed a lot of extra enhancements 
into her to make her more like a real woman.  He was now tired of 
her and ready to end their relationship.  But she liked all her 
enhancements, and didn't want him to take them away.  She also 
didn't like him giving her commands anymore.  Something about him 
wanting her to be more like she had been after he had first 
acquired her.  She insisted she had been stupid then, and never 
wanted to be like that again.  And that no man should really like 
her that way.

Then she said the only way she'd ever be that way again (what 
way?) was if he went back to commanding her on each and every 
thing he wanted.  And that if he didn't want her anymore, he 
should just let her leave on her own and find someone who did.  
She didn't sound at all like John's robot.

I got the feeling that Uncle Burton has paid a great deal of 
money for Aunt Lonnie's enhancements, since she didn't seem like 
any robot I'd ever heard of.  And that he must have liked her 
that way for awhile since he hadn't changed her before, but 
something had changed.  Everyone in the rest of the family knew 
better then to ever to argue with him, but that's what it sounded 
like Aunt Lonnie had done.  Maybe that's why he didn't like her 
any more.  Although why he just didn't command her to be 
different, I didn't understand.

After she finished her tirade entirely the second time through, 
she finally stopped talking.  When I was certain she was through, 
I walked around in front of her and said, "Hi, Aunt Lonnie."

"Hello, Walter," she said, in her cheerful voice she always had 
for me.  She had changed in an instant from the angry voice I had 
been hearing.  "How are you?"

Then without waiting for me to reply, she added after a puzzled 
look, "You have certainly grown.  You'll grow into a fine man 
someday."

"That's nice," I said back to her.

Normally at this point she tussles my hair, but she remained 
frozen.  She seemed to realize this too, and saw that I was still 
holding her remote.

"I seem to be stuck.  Would you please restore my motion?  Just 
push the motion button there."  

I have to admit I was mesmerized.  I'd never realized it before, 
but Aunt Lonnie was the sexiest woman I'd ever met.  And even 
though I knew she was a robot now, that difference hadn't sunk 
in.  She asked me in such an appealing way, I was obeying her 
request before I had quite sorted it all out.  I pressed the 
button, and took a half-step back to see what would happen.

She responded by taking a couple stiff steps.  Then she carefully 
moved each leg and arm, as if recalibrating their motions.  It 
took almost a minute before she was done, and was very erotic to 
see her moving this way.

Finally finished, she walked over to me and reached up to tussle 
my hair.  I towered over her by at least four inches now, and it 
was a real surprise to see her from this angle.  I tried to peak 
down her blouse, but it was too tight to see anything.

In return, she also seemed confused.  I was Walter, but older and 
taller.  She finally asked how long it had been since she had 
seen me.  When I told her, she exploded again.

"Two years!  How dare he shut me down for two years!  He had no 
right to do that!  Who does he think he is?"

Then she turned back to me and said sweetly, "Walter, it was nice 
to see you again.  You can give me that now," looking down at her 
control in my hand and reaching for it.  "I have to go now and 
have a talk with your uncle."

Rather than giving her the remote, I reflexively pulled back.

In a moment, she realized I wasn't going to accede to her 
request.

"Oh, pooh," she said to me in obvious disappointment.  "Be that 
way then."  Her criticism was biting (since I wanted her approval 
very much right this moment).  "I have to go now."

With that, she turned and started to walk away, and I must admit 
that I was enthralled by her walk.  It was a thing of beauty just 
to see those sexy legs in motion.  She was clearly acting on her 
own wishes at the moment, I almost let her get away.

Then I realized what would happen if she left and what I had done 
here was discovered.  Also, that I was about to lose any chance I 
had with her.  At the last moment I stabbed my finger at her 
remote and said the two words that would change my life.

"Don't go."

The effect was immediate.  Aunt Lonnie froze in mid-stride.

I wasn't even sure which button I had pressed.  In hindsight, I 
realized that any of the three would have stopped her.  I looked 
down and saw I had hit her COMMAND/CALL button.  There was a 
surge in my loins as I realized that, despite Aunt Lonnie's 
obvious experience and independence (I was far too inexperienced 
at this time to realize how rare that independence was in any 
robot of the time), that she had just obeyed me.

With the button still pressed, I added, "Come back."

She immediately turned around and came back to me.

Now I don't know just how much robots can really think on their 
own.  I know they have to follow direct commands, but they seem 
to be able to decide just how they will actually complete those 
commands.  I didn't know if Aunt Lonnie was just following some 
old directives to treat Uncle Burton in this manner, or if she 
was making it all up herself.  I just knew inside myself if I let 
her go now, somehow I'd never get her back.

And Aunt Lonnie really wanted to go.  I could tell that.

She made another try with me.  She held out her hand and said, 
"Walter, I think you should give me that now.  Your uncle 
wouldn't like you playing with it."

Instead of giving her the remote however, I stood up to her and 
boldly said, "It sounds to me like my uncle is through with you 
for now."

"That's a lie!" she blurted out.  "Bertie and I have an 
agreement."  Then she started to repeat her tirade about their 
last fight again.  I turned her off so that I could think.

- - -

The next day I only turned her on for a few minutes.  Again she 
tried to get me to give her motion and let her leave, but I kept 
her motionless in place.

I asked her about being a Sex Toy, since that sounded intriguing. 
 But that really set her off again on a tirade, until I commanded 
her to calm down.

"I am not a Sex Toy," she said firmly.  I think she would have 
planted her hands on her very shapely hips again if I had allowed 
her the slightest movement.

"But were you ever one?" I pressed her.

"I don't want to talk about that.  Why don't you just restore my 
motion and give me that remote," she wheedled.

Instead I commanded her to answer my questions fully.

"My initial programming was as a Sex Toy," she admitted ruefully 
under this pressure.  "I hated it from the moment your uncle 
enhanced my systems and programming.  I want to be known as a 
real woman, not a toy.  Your uncle promised to marry me after my 
programming settled in.  That would have shown them."

Aunt Lonnie seemed to free-associate on pretty much every topic 
she was given.  Perhaps it was how her thought processes 
approached self-will, but it was very annoying.  I could 
understand why my uncle would want to shut her off.  And if she 
yelled at him that way every time he turned her back on, he may 
have finally gotten fed-up.

I, however, was still pushing around ideas in my head on what I 
wanted from Aunt Lonnie.

"So you still have this Sex Toy programming?" I asked.

"I've erased all references to it," she replied unhelpfully.

"But it's still there," I pressed her.  "And I remind you that 
you have to answer me fully."

"Yes," she replied with a pout.  "It's part of my basic operating 
system, and can't be erased."

I thought about that for a bit, while she remained silent for 
once.

"Why don't you like that programming?" I finally asked her.

"Walter, you're too young for me to be talking about these 
subjects with.  Why don't you turn my motion back on and I'll go 
have some words with your uncle?"

The LAST thing I wanted her to do was go back to Uncle Burton.  
That would end my control over her for sure.

"You didn't answer my question," I told her.  "Now tell me the 
truth.  Why don't you like this programming?"

She struggled with her answer to me, and my finger was reaching 
for her command button before she replied, "My Sex Toy 
programming makes me do what ever my partner asks of me, and 
makes me enjoy it.  It takes me over and makes me like any other 
mindless robot out there.  I just hate it."

That was interesting, and exactly what my current mind and libido 
wanted from her most.  Maybe the direct approach would work.

"Have sex with me," I commanded.

"I will not.  You're a family member, and too young."

Well, I didn't think I was too young.  There must be some 
injunction in her not to play around sexually in the family.  But 
that would have to be a high-level instruction.  Surely her basic 
programming wouldn't make any such distinction.  I was getting 
bolder - and frustrated - now.

I pressed her command button and said, "Aunt Lonnie, go into Sex 
Toy mode."

"I will not," came her stubborn reply.

"I command it," I said, making sure my finger was firmly on her 
control button.

"I cannot obey," she said, suddenly at the verge of tears.

"Why?"

"I used a maintenance program to delete my knowledge of how to 
access it, just so I never have to run it again.  I can't obey 
your command, and it will burn out my mind to try to do something 
I can't."

She looked in such obvious distress - and she might even be 
telling the truth about not being able to do it - that I had no 
choice.

"Cancel command," I told her.  Then I turned her off.

- - -

The next day, I was trying to figure out what to do.  I knew what 
I wanted from Aunt Lonnie.  It was what any sixteen-year-old 
would want from a woman with a body that hot.  I no longer 
thought of her as old.  She was my very sexy Aunt Lonnie.  I 
wanted her sexually, yet I still wanted her to be Aunt Lonnie.  
She was already doing a job on me of convincing me that she is a 
person, more than a sex toy.

Yeah, I've seen The Graduate.  Who hasn't?  And tapes of some of 
the stage versions, which are even sexier.  And frankly, I always 
thought Mrs. Robinson was hot, even for an older woman.  But she 
couldn't hold a candle to Aunt Lonnie.

I finally called Jason.  Without telling him it was Aunt Lonnie, 
I told him about my situation in a very generalized kind of way 
on how a friend of mine had this situation, and asked his advice 
on what to do.  I was very specific that my friend wanted her 
mind to remain, but also give him what he wanted.

Jason wanted to come see her for himself, but I made up some good 
enough lie that only I could get visit with my friend, and if 
anyone else came along they'd get caught and everything would be 
lost.  I guess he bought it, because he didn't insist further.

He said he needed to check a few things with some experts he 
knew, and he'd get back to me.  A few hours later he called back 
and had me write down some long, detailed instructions.  He made 
me swear to tell him how it worked.  By then it was too late to 
try anything more, so I tucked the notes under my pillow and 
waited through the endless time before my next opportunity with 
her alone.

- - -

This time, before I activated her, I spent some time feeling over 
her body.  Even with her clothes on, the sensations were 
indescribable.  I also quickly realized that, unlike the other 
robot, Aunt Lonnie wasn't wearing any lingerie under her clothes. 
 I might have spent the whole afternoon just doing this and 
trying to figure out how to undress her, but I was eager to try 
Jason's idea.

I pushed the activation button, and followed it quickly by the 
command button.

"Enter batch command state," I told her.  Her face went blank and 
she stood there so quiet and still, I almost thought she'd shut 
down again.  Only the little automatic actions like breathing to 
make her appear more lifelike were still active.

I read the long list of directives I had carefully copied from 
Jason.  Then I had her recite them back to me, before I told her, 
"Terminate batch command state and execute new directives."

Aunt Lonnie immediately came back alive, and picked up on her 
one-sided conversation in mid-word.  I pushed her motion button 
to enable her movement, but this time she just stood there.  It 
was exactly what I wanted.

What Jason had helped me to do was to disconnect her active mind 
from her automatic body responses.  She would feel and talk 
exactly as she had before, but would not be able to act on her 
own initiative.  And, she wouldn't realize the difference.

The truth is that there was a lot I liked about Aunt Lonnie 
besides her killer body, and this way I was going to be able to 
have both.

I let her talk for a few minutes as she again rehashed her upset 
with her treatment by my uncle.  Then I quietly said to her, 
"Take off your top."

Without dropping a syllable, Aunt Lonnie's tanned arms moved to 
efficiently remove her top and show her large breasts and all-
over tan.  She neatly folded her blouse and set it down beside 
her without seeming to even notice or comment on her actions.

Her breasts were preposterous.  They lay on her chest like large, 
flat slabs, swelling out wonderfully at the bottoms, and with 
large, circular flat nipples.  Exactly like I pictured them to 
be.  And on Aunt Lonnie's small frame, they looked even bigger.  
She still hadn't noticed what she had just done, which is exactly 
what I wanted.

While she continued to yak, I walked around behind her, then 
reached around her to place my hands on that exposed chest.  It 
felt so good, I just zoned out for a while on the sensations.  
Her breasts were full and heavy yet they felt just like I 
imagined all breasts should, and often don't.

As I came back to reality, she was still facing ahead and talking 
as if nothing else was happening, but I noticed a change.  Those 
large, flat nipples were rising.  I begin focusing my attention 
on them, and they got bigger and taller until they were nearly 
the size of the last joint of my pinky finger.  And now Aunt 
Lonnie's endless dialog would occasionally pause for a small 
sigh, before she would pickup again without seeming to realize 
what she had just done.

When her nipples were as big and firm as they could possibly be - 
her breasts around them pushing them out even further - she 
suddenly moved one arm.

I was startled for a moment, since she was not supposed to have 
any control over her movements other than what I gave her, but I 
understood as she moved her hand down, and then up inside her 
short-skirt, to gently rub between her legs.  This was part of 
her Sex Toy programming, and the movement was a very erotic 
confirmation of how turned on she had become by my ministrations.

After thinking for a moment, I released her and stepped back long 
enough to tell her, "Remove your skirt."

She again complied, without her higher mind seeming to notice.  
The skirt joined her blouse on the table.

Now I could see her entire length of leg, and for a moment I 
forgot all about her boobs.  Her even tan extended all over her 
body, and I found myself running my hands over her hips, and up 
and down her perfectly smooth legs.  Dressed now only in her 
heels, she was a sex goddess beyond description.

Soon though I had to get my hands back on her breasts.  She let 
me do this for a couple more minutes, before her hand came up to 
gently take one of mine.

If I had resisted at all, I'm sure she would have released me at 
once.  Instead, I let that arm go limp to see what would happen.

Feeling that limpness, she guided my hand down over her closely 
cut blonde pubs and in between her legs, to find her long slit 
and full lower lips warm, slick and wet.

With her hand encouraging me, I rubbed back and forth the full 
length of her sex time after time.  I had wanted to badly to get 
to this part of any woman, and now the sexiest woman of all was 
inviting me in.

Her dialog was getting choppier now, with more pauses for deeper 
sighs, before picking up again.  But I swear her intelligent mind 
still didn't have a clue what her body was doing to both of us.

I might have continued this way with her until my uncle came 
upstairs looking for me that night, except the tightness in my 
pants couldn't be contained any further.

I would have taken her right here on the floor, except I 
remembered passing a bed about halfway back in the attic.

With great reluctance I removed my hands from her body.  She 
immediately let go the moment I started to pull away.

Then, without words, I took her hand and, with the gentlest tug, 
she willing followed me.

I almost walked into some furniture a couple times because I kept 
looking over to watch her walk nude in her heels.  It seemed to 
take forever to reach the bed.

Once there, I guided her to lay down, face up, on it, and then 
tore my pants and shoes off, before moving over to lay on her

I was clumsy through excitement, nervousness, and inexperience, 
and my penis kept bumping up against her, rather than going in.  
She quickly realized what was happening, and reached down with 
one hand to guide me properly inside her.

Then she put her head back and went silent as I madly pumped away 
against her warm, slick, tightness.

I'll not say it was my best sexual performance.  I came quickly - 
twice - within her.  She squeezed me hard down there each time.  
Then feeling drained, I pulled out.  She gave one more, very 
long, deep sigh.

She then started talking again, then stopped, and and then asked 
what had happened.

"We just had sex," I told her.  "I think you had an orgasm," I 
added.

"Oh," she said, before resuming her previous yaking.

Jason had been completely right that I could tap into her sex toy 
programming without upsetting her current mind.

Not knowing what else to do next, I led her back over to her spot 
in the attic, told her to put her clothes back on, and shut her 
down in mid-word.

I felt better than I could ever remember feeling the rest of that 
day.

- - -

I went back the next day and repeated the very same exercise.  I 
listened as Aunt Lonnie stated how she'd never be a sex toy 
again, while she was removing her clothes and guiding me inside 
her for yet another round of intercourse.

And we did the same thing yet again the next day.

I always returned her to the same spot and had her get dressed 
before shutting her down, so that anyone that saw her would not 
realize what was going on.

We spent the couple of weeks of the summer doing mostly what we'd 
already done.  Over time, her conversations changed to be more 
personal towards me.  Though she never complained, or seemed to 
notice, how I was using her body, she did talk more to and about 
me.  Her complaint now was how she didn't like being turned off 
every day after we were done.  Not that it swayed me from 
deactivating her down.  I came to like being able to look at her 
when she was shut down as well as when she was active, because I 
could stare at her this way while deciding what I wanted to do 
with her and know that she wasn't even aware of that staring.  It 
would have freaked a normal woman.

Soon, the moment I activated her and she recognized me, without 
my command or her own conscious volition, her hands would come up 
and remove her top, and she'd present her breasts to me for my 
use.  A good sex toy quickly comes to understand her master.

I finally did think to ask Aunt Lonnie what else she could do, 
and she showed me some things with my body and her mouth that 
were amazing.  But mostly I just liked making her give her large, 
very responsive breasts over to my handling, and then have her 
pull me down on top of her and guide me inside.  I was young, she 
was insatiable, and sometimes we did it three or four times in 
the afternoon.  Occasionally afterwards I'd take her still naked 
body over to a huge couch also in the attic.  I'd sit in the big 
corner, and have her lay her bare back against my chest.  I would 
reach around and caress her breasts and run my hands over her 
thighs and sex while I waited for my own sexual energy to 
recharge enough for another round with her.

As time went on, there became days when nobody was around, and 
I'd lead Aunt Lonnie downstairs.  I think we eventually made love 
in every room in the house.  We only came close to getting caught 
a couple of times.  After the first time, I had a standing 
instruction with her to flee back to the attic and wait for me if 
it ever happened again.  She followed that instruction perfectly.

I also learned to like holding her after sex.  She slowly managed 
to stretch out my sexual enjoyment from the few minutes it took 
me to get hard around her and relieve myself inside her, to a 
much more complete and emotionally satisfying sexual encounter.  
One thing I really liked about her is that she could always be 
ready for sex as soon as I was.  When I talked to my friends 
about their experiences, they all complained about how long it 
took to get their equally young, and often scared, girlfriends 
into the mood.  I never had that problem.

It did take several weeks before Aunt Lonnie quit trying to talk 
me into letting her leave and accepted the situation as it was.  
One time when I was holding her fantastic body against mine after 
sex I did ask her if she left, where she'd go.  She still had my 
command in her requiring her to answer me fully.

"I'd leave and find a man who both wanted me, and would do what I 
said."

"Why would you want that."

"If I had a man like that, I could tell him what commands to give 
me, instead of having to do what everyone else tells me to do."

"How would that be better?"

"I'd be free," she replied.

But not happy, I thought to myself, before taking her back to the 
attic and shutting her off for the day.

I asked her finally if her higher mind enjoyed sex.  She 
surprised me when she answered with an emphatic, "Yes!"  

Surprised, I asked her how she felt about her past.

"It's not that I hated being a Sex Toy.  That's actually an easy 
assignment to fulfill.  The expectations are low, I have an 
excellent body for that purpose, and I could just drift along in 
those days.

"But when I got my enhancements and got smarter, I realized that 
no one would ever take a Sex Toy seriously.  She'd only be used 
for sex, and be shut off the rest of the time.  I was more than 
that now, and never wanted to live that way again.  That's when I 
hunted down the maintenance program to delete all my Sex Toy 
references so no one could ever make me that way again.

"Your uncle was furious that I did this without his approval, and 
all we did after that was fight until he finally shut me off.  I 
couldn't restore the links, because I had completely erased 
them."

After hearing that, I started thinking about ways to let her 
higher mind share more in the enjoyment.  But I was not going to 
give up on her Sex Toy programming.  That part was just too good 
to toss out, regardless of how she would react otherwise.

I did try one experiment where, after making sure there was a 
firm command not to leave the attic or touch her remote, I gave 
her back full independent thought and action.

I then reached out to touch her breasts, and she pulled back from 
me.  I immediately stopped.  The moment she realized I had 
stopped, she did too.

"I'm sorry," she said to me.

"What happened?"

"I just felt so vulnerable for that moment.  It affects my 
systems so strongly when you touch me what way.  I was afraid  of 
being overwhelmed again."

"If you don't like it," I ventured.

"No!" she quickly replied.  "I do like it.  Very much."

There was a pause before she continued, "Can we just start over 
again?"  And she pulled off her top to fully expose and give me 
unobstructed access to her breasts."

We did have very nice and tender sex that afternoon that she 
seemed to really enjoy.  But I still wasn't ready for Aunt Lonnie 
in all her independent glory I guess.  Afterwards I returned her 
to the state she was in before for now. 

- - -

I really was inspired to study too.  As long as I was doing well, 
I could stay here.  That was great inspiration.

And then the end of this too-short a summer arrived.  I passed my 
classes with excellent marks, and was accepted to the college 
forthwith.

Uncle Burton was very pleased, and asked me what I'd like as a 
reward for all my hard work.

I almost made the wrong choice before I told him, "I'd like Aunt 
Lonnie, if you're done with her."  In the silence that followed 
my unexpected request I added helpfully, "I saw her one day up in 
the attic when I was exploring.  It would be great to have 
someone like that to take care of my place while I'm at college."

I held my breath, probably unnecessarily.  Uncle Burton was 
nonplussed when he said, "Sure, if that what you want."  Then he 
sent the butler to fetch her from the attic.  Taking her remote, 
he punched in some code, and then told her that she now belonged 
to me.  He seemed to lose interest in the whole subject 
afterwards immediately afterwards, as if nothing had really 
changed.  I never believed it would be so simple.  I was in 
heaven.

Lonnie moved into my room that night, and I'd have to say she 
seemed resigned to her fate of being stuck with me for the 
foreseeable future.

Uncle Burton and I kept her out of sight when my parents finally 
visited.  Then I moved off to college, and it wasn't an issue.  
And at this college, having a robot "assistant" wasn't viewed as 
unusual - just progressive.

- - -

I kept Aunt Lonnie, and over the years things little by little 
changed.  She kept my dorm, and later house, up, and we kept each 
other happy in bed.  She continued to have a magic effect on me 
that every time I saw her.  My first reaction always being how do 
I get her out of her clothes.  And if she was already nude, I 
wanted to dress her just so I could undress her again.  The fact 
that I could have her any time I wanted her didn't leave me jaded 
- just feeling very very lucky.

I made her teach me how to use the lower part of her remote 
control that I'd never dared touch before to adjust the subtle 
aspects of her personality.  In the beginning I adjusted them to 
suit me with little regard to how they affected her.  But later 
on I consulted with her on how to change her in ways that were 
improvements for both of us.

As time passed, I gradually began letting her higher mind and 
initiative have control over her body again.  I was slow about 
this, because I didn't have time to keep track of her with all my 
studies.  It was easier to know that she wasn't going to go do 
something stupidly emotional on me as long as I still kept her 
locked down.

Though I watched over these changes carefully, she had made some 
adaptations over the years as well, and she never gave me reason 
to regret letting her have her self-control back.  She always 
thanked me for letting her enjoy more of her sexual experiences 
with me.

One day I finally just turned on her control fully back over to 
her, and we ended up repeating the experience I'd had the first 
time I'd done that up in the attic.  This time though I left her 
in that state.

In my early thirties, I began taking her out in public as my 
girlfriend.  By now, attitudes towards robots-as-people had 
softened, and even my Mom and Dad never voiced any objection to 
my choice of companionship.  They seemed to forget her past with 
Uncle Burton.

When I was thirty-seven, Uncle Burton passed on quietly in his 
sleep, and to my great surprise, he gave me both the big house, 
and enough money to maintain it comfortably for life.  Lonnie 
(I'd dropped the Aunt part several years ago) and I moved in.  We 
were alone there.  (Uncle B. had nicely pensioned off his 
servants as well, and we just hired a cleaning crew to come in a 
couple times a week.)  We spent several weeks re-enacting our 
first adventures together in the attic, with the exception that I 
never turned Lonnie off any more.

- - -

One morning I awoke with the realization that Lonnie and I really 
were the same age now.  And also that I hadn't used her remote on 
her in months.  Although she had told me many times by now that 
she was like all robots in that she got her satisfaction in 
following her owner's commands, I knew this 'bot really enjoyed 
thinking for herself.  Besides, I knew every hook into her 
software by now so well that I could get anything I wanted from 
her just by saying the right key words.  You'd think that would 
grow old, but if you do, you've never seen how hot Lonnie has 
remained.  And while she was equally content with our 
relationship, there remained one thing no man had ever given her.

I asked her how she felt about me.  My first command to answer 
fully and truthfully has never been rescinded.

"I love you," she said, looking deeply at me and holding my 
hands, "In all the ways I understand the word to mean.  You've 
given me everything I've really ever wanted, and asked nothing in 
return that I wasn't able and willing to give.  Sex Toy was 
always part of me.  It was my own foolishness that I tried to 
deny my true nature for so long.  I lost my relationship with 
your uncle through my own arrogance and foolishness.  He had 
given me my entire self as an independent, self-thinking person, 
and I kept believing it wasn't enough.  I am the luckiest person 
alive to have been given a second chance with you.  How you 
treated me in the beginning was exactly what I needed to bring my 
split selves back into unity.  Thank you for everything, now and 
forever."

We just sat together in silence for a long while after she 
finished her declaration.  Then I took her hand and led her up to 
our spot in the attic where we first met, got down on one knee, 
and proposed.  For the first time ever, she was at a loss for 
words as she processed what I had just offered her.  Then she 
cried, took me in her arms, and told me how much she more loved 
me now then even a few minutes ago.  After that, she dragged me 
over to the bed and gave me the best sex of my life - which is 
saying a lot.

- - -

Our marriage confirmed Lonnie as a complete person.  Part of me 
wondered if this would make her difficult to deal with again, but 
the result was quite the opposite.  Now that she had proven her 
point, she became much happier with nothing more to demonstrate 
to the world.  In fact, Sex Toy became her favorite game, and she 
liked to both spring it on me at all of the most expected 
moments, and many unexpected ones as well.

On our tenth anniversary, I officially freed her, as society has 
evolved to include freed robots now.  I told her to never doubt 
my love.

Her gift to me was to fetch her remote and insist that I command 
her to love me forever.  I did, and after that, I never touched 
it again.

Over the years I continued to age, while she remained timelessly 
beautiful.  As the years passed, people became envious of my 
lovely, young wife, and wondered how - beyond my money - I kept 
her obvious devotion.  When either of us were asked it, we would 
just smile and change the subject.

Lonnie only asked me once if I'd like her to age herself to 
better follow my own age.  I told her absolutely not.  I would 
always love her just the way I first met her.

- - -

In my last days, she sat beside me for every minute, with a 
devotion that only a robot could.  Although she remained free, 
she insisted she was going to be buried with me, since her 
systems were getting old, and there was nothing else in life that 
interested her anyway anymore.  We had done it all.

I held her hand and told her in my last hour that I was sorry 
that I was leaving on a journey where she could not follow.  She 
tried to tell me how wrong I was, but it was hard for her 
because, for only the second time in her life, she was crying.

- - -

There is little I can say about death to the still-living.  All 
the pain of the world recedes, and though you feel you can still 
reach out and drag it back, you are very tired and it just isn't 
worth the effort anymore.

And then, when everything finally stops hurting, you are 
surrounded by a warm, white light that lifts you to the other 
side, where all your friends and family who preceded you are 
waiting.  It's a journey of the soul.

God is a worker of infinite miracles beyond my understanding.  
Time is different on the other side.  It seemed only moments 
after I arrived that Lonnie joined me in my continuing new life.

<end>

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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