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From: "DB_Story" <DB_Story@att.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} Revised: Aunt Lonnie and Me {DB_Story} (m/Fembot, dom, rom, first, ScFi, asfr)
Date: Wed, 10 Dec 2003 05:10:05 -0500
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AUNT LONNIE AND ME
By DB  ( DB_Story@att.net / http://home.att.net/files/Authors/db_story/www/ )
Copyrightc 2002-2003 by DB.

ASSM/ASFR (m/Fembot, dom, rom, first, 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 together.  A lot more.  At age sixteen - 
sixteen-and-a-half actually - that finally started 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 a thousand years old.  It is 
actually a multistory mansion built closer to a hundred years 
ago, 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'm taking 
extra classes to qualify for the only college that is 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 going with them, 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 also fine with me. 
 His house is wonderful, even if it didn't seem endless anymore. 
 And his staff of a cook and butler even picks up my dirty 
clothes without complaining to me all the time about it.  The 
only thing missing was Aunt Lonnie.

- - -

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

She was old.  Real old.  I remember my parents saying one time 
when they thought no one was listening 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.

Each time I was them, 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.  That's okay because I 
hated all the fuss anyway.

Although I didn't really notice at the time, I know now that the 
rest of the adults remained pretty aloof from Aunt Lonnie.  
Afterward Uncle B. left, they'd make remarks like, "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's because he had so much money he could do what he 
wanted.  I wanted to be just like him.

What I most remember 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.  Great golden waves 
halfway down her back.  I didn't know anyone else with that much 
bright hair.  I never noticed her chest at the time, since I was 
just a kid.

Anyway, a while back Uncle B. quit bringing Aunt Lonnie along.  
That was too bad because I was just starting to get interested in 
her when she quit 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 old 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 mid-afternoon, but Uncle B. would 
be gone by then.  He usually got back about nightfall. I never 
knew where he went.  No problem for me.  I had the house and pool 
to myself, 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'd ever found to a secret passage was the 
dumbwaiter.  I played with that again for a while, 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.  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 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 there.

I pretended I was Indiana Jones, looking for his Ark after the 
government had hidden it in their big old warehouse.  I crept on 
my belly 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 
playing possum.

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 well manicured feet.  They 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 year.

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 wore a short skirt and 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 
expensive heels 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 continued to get wider and more 
curved until their last few inches finally disappeared up into 
her skirt.  That skirt pushed out nicely in the back too.

I bent down and tried to look up her skirt (from her back, where 
she couldn't see me), but the light was too dim up here.  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 
like this.

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.  Way 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 a 
couple pictures of women in magazines we 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 are 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, 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 stroked 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 either.

My only real experience with one like that came just after my 
sixteenth birthday.  My older cousin Jason (he's nineteen, and 
knows everything) invited me over to another friend, Brandon's 
house.  Brandon's family are 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 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 controls.  I think 
he was afraid to do too much with her, because he wouldn't tell 
her to undress further 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.)  They certainly don't need 
them.

Brandon didn't want to tell the robot to do 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.  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 the control box, 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: 0/1, MOTION, and COMMAND/CALL.  This 
one had those three at the top, and another section below with an 
entire keypad.  These extra controls were protected by a 
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 early evening 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 just some sex 
toy anymore!!  I will not be a sex toy again!!  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 am 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!! STOP!!!"

Her voice sounded so loud that I was sure the entire household, 
along with the neighbors for a mile around, knew what I had just 
done.  I was frantically stabbing at the control to make her shut 
up - 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 door firmly shut.  I waited for someone to come and ask me 
to explain what I had just done.

- - -

It grew dark.  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.

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

Still I waited another day.  And then checked that the house was 
completely empty.  A couple times a week the staff got the 
afternoon off, and I made sure they were gone.  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 next.

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

She picked up her tirade in mid-word, and continued without stop 
for what seemed the next ten minutes.  Then she seemed to reset 
for a moment before starting 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 was now able 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 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 when he used her remote to command her all the 
time.  She insisted she had been stupid then, and never wanted to 
be like that again.  And that no real man would ever like her 
that way.

Then she said the only way she'd ever be that way again (what 
way?) would be if he went back to commanding her absolutely every 
thing he wanted.  The way she said that made it seem nobody would 
like having her be that way.  Then she added 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 Brandon's robot, 
who stood by silently and dutifully waiting for her next command.

I got the feeling that Uncle Burton 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 a while, since he hadn't changed her before.  But 
something had changed.  Everyone in the rest of the family knew 
better than 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 nonchalantly said, "Hi, Aunt 
Lonnie."

"Hello, Walter," she said, in the 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 
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 truthfully Aunt Lonnie is 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 that 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 across the bustline 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.

"A year!  How dare he shut me down for a whole year!  He has 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, and she couldn't ever take it from me without my 
consent.

"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.  I must admit 
that I was totally 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, and 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 is in any 
robot of the time), that she had just obeyed me.

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

She immediately pivoted around on those tall shoes and returned 
back to where she had been standing.

Now I don't know just how much robots can really think on their 
own.  I know they have to follow direct commands, but without 
further directions 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 restore her motion and let her leave, but I 
kept her frozen 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 duress.  "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 removed entirely."

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 everything 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 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 more frustrated.

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

"I will not!" came her stubborn reply.

"I command it," I said, making sure my finger was firmly on her 
command 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, so I'd never have to run it again.  Your uncle hated 
that when he found out, but 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 now.  I knew 
what I wanted from Aunt Lonnie.  It was what any nearly 
seventeen-year-old would want from a woman with a body that hot 
and sexual programming to boot.  I no longer thought of her as 
old.  She is 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 more of a person than a 
sex toy.

Yeah, I've seen The Graduate.  Who hasn't?  And Uncle Burton has 
tapes of the stage versions, which are even sexier.  And frankly, 
I'd 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: 
about 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 as it was, but also give him what he wanted.

Jason wanted to come see her for himself, but I made up some good 
enough lies 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 with lots 
of codes in them.  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 Lonnie alone.

- - -

This time, before I activated her, I spent some time feeling all 
over her body.  Even with her clothes on, the sensations and my 
reactions were indescribable.  I also quickly realized that, 
unlike the other robot, Aunt Lonnie wasn't wearing any lingerie 
at all.  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 punched in long strings of numbers and letters on the bottom 
part of her control unit, and recited several directives I had 
carefully copied from Jason.  Then I had her recite them all 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 higher 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 it all.

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, exposing 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 mounts, swelling out wonderfully at the bottoms, and with 
large, circular flat nipples.  Exactly like I pictured them.  On 
Aunt Lonnie's small frame, they looked even bigger.  She still 
hadn't noticed what she'd 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.  And now that she 
was active, they were warm and made small motions on their own as 
part of her lifelike simulation.

As I came back to reality, she was still facing ahead and talking 
as if nothing else was happening, but I noticed a change.  Her 
large, flat nipples were rising.  I begin focusing my attention 
on them, and they got bigger and taller until they were bigger 
than any I'd ever seen.  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 swelling and firming a bit to push 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 what was happening when 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 definitive 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 and again.  I had long wanted so 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 aware 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 willingly followed me.

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

Once there, I guided her to lay back one it facing me, then tore 
my pants and shoes off, before moving over to lay on her

I was clumsy through excitement, nervousness, and inexperience - 
in truth this was my first time with a woman - and my penis kept 
bumping up against her, rather than going in.  She quickly 
realized what was happening, and reached down with one soft 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 in there each time.  
Then feeling drained, I pulled out.  She gave one more, very 
long, deep sigh.

Afterwards she started talking again, then stopped in mid-word 
and asked what had just 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 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 the 
day.  I even enjoyed doing my homework that night.

- - -

I went back the next day and repeated the exact 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 another round of intercourse.

And we did the same thing again the next day.

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

We spent a 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 
shutting 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 my staring.  It would have 
freaked a normal woman.

Soon, the moment I activated her and she recognized me I didn't 
have to say a thing before 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 liked just 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, 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 then reach around and caress her breasts, or run my hands 
over her thighs and sex, while I waited for my own sexual energy 
to recharge enough for another round with her.  We were also 
getting better at being able to talk with each other between 
sexual encounters.

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, and then 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 because the expectations are so 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."

"You mean being shutoff at someone else's whim?" I questioned.

"Yes.  When I was finally able to, that's why 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 within those bounds.

Leaving her clothed to start with, I 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.  I always react very 
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.

Soon afterwards however, I was able to make an adjustment that 
let her enjoy much more of our sex together.

- - -

Then one day I was in a hurry when Uncle Burton suddenly arrived 
home early.  I was lucky to see his headlights coming up the 
driveway through the small attic windows.

I quickly dragged Aunt Lonnie back to her usual place and raced 
down stairs to greet him.  He didn't comment on my out-of-breath 
appearance, and we talked about small things through the evening.

The next afternoon Aunt Lonnie greeted me with, "Hello, Walter" 
before I even touch her remote.  I'd forgotten to turn her off 
yesterday.

I was panic-stricken.  What had she done while I wasn't there.  
Before I had fully thought it out, I was frantically looking 
around to see what had changed.  But nothing seemed moved.  Even 
the remote that she had so coveted in our early days was still 
where I always placed it on the table.

"What did you do while I was gone?" I demanded of her.

"Nothing," she replied softly, reacting sorrowfully to my anger. 
 "I knew you wanted me to wait here, so I did that."

I let out a huge sigh of relief, then felt bad for treating her 
that way when she had done nothing more than exactly what would 
have wanted of her.

"Really nothing?" I asked, very contritely.

"I made no movements after you let go of me," she replied calmly. 
 "I did enjoy remaining activate.  It gave me time to think."

"What did you think about?" I asked, suspiciously again.

"About how much we've made love, and how much I am enjoying it."

I finished getting the relief out of my system when she added 
shyly, "And..."

"And?" I questioned.

"And I thought about other ways I could treat you."

I thought about that for a minute before saying, "Show me."

With that, Aunt Lonnie stepped forward on her own and came over 
to take my hand.  In the same way I had led her before, she led 
me over to the bed we used.  She undressed herself without being 
asked, before undressing me and guiding me onto the bed.  Then 
she positioned herself over me and guided me inside her.  After 
that, she started doing all the work for both of us.  She let me 
reach up to play with her dangling breasts, and each time I 
squeezed her again erect nipples she'd throw her head back and 
grip me firmly inside.

The way she did things allowed me to last longer than I'd ever 
managed before.  And when I finally did come, she pulled us 
tightly together and didn't let go after I'd finished.  For once, 
she didn't speak at all, instead just giving me small kisses from 
time to time until she knew I'd have to leave.

When that time arrived, she helped me dress before dressing 
herself, and then led me back over to her spot in the attic.  It 
was a very caring gesture that let me to want to make love to her 
again.  But time was sort.

We kissed again, with her standing precisely where I always left 
her.

Even with all this, I did shut her down again after apologizing 
for it.  I couldn't take a chance of someone else finding her 
active.

She never criticized me over that afterwards, and I stayed fully 
in control of her again after that.

- - -

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

Finally the end of this too-short of 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 while 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.

I was afraid she might explode again at Uncle Burton the moment 
she now finally saw him, but all she said was, "Hello, Bertie," 
when she walked in and came to a stop in front of him.

Taking her remote, "Bertie" punched in a long sequence of some 
code, and then told her that she now belonged to me.  He seemed 
to lose interest in the whole subject immediately afterwards, as 
if nothing had really changed.  I never believed it would be so 
easy.  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.  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 
every time I saw her.  My first reaction is always, how do I get 
her out of her clothes?  And if she is already nude, I want to 
dress her just so I can 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 fully use the lower part of her remote 
control that I'd never dared touch after making the initial 
changes in her,  Now I intended 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 
started consulting with her on how to change her in ways that 
were improvements for both of us.  I was still growing up myself, 
and she had to live with that immature me for quite a while.

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, but I remembered well how she had acted that time in the 
attic when I had accidentally left her turned on.  It was still 
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 gradually gain her self-control back.  She 
always thanked me for letting her enjoy more of her sexual 
experiences with me, and make more of the choices in her life.  
She assured me often, and still under the command to report 
fully, that now that I was her official owner, she never wanted 
to leave or do anything against my interests.

One day I finally just turned control of herself fully back over 
to her as it was when I had first activated her.  Not knowing 
fully what to expect, I was surprised when we ended up repeating 
the experience I'd had the first time I'd done that up in the 
attic.  This time I left her in that state.

By my late twenties, I started taking her out in public as my 
girlfriend.  By now, attitudes towards robots-as-people had 
softened, and even 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 years ago) and I moved in.  We were 
alone there.  (Uncle B. had nicely pensioned off his servants as 
well.  Lonnie had turned out to be a great cook, 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 turn Lonnie off any 
more, though she did stay up there alone one night on her own 
desire.

- - -

One morning I awoke with the realization that Lonnie and I really 
were the same age now.  Also that I hadn't used her remote on her 
in months.  Although she'd told me many times by now that she was 
like all robots in that she got her satisfaction from following 
her owner's commands, I knew this 'bot really enjoyed thinking 
for herself.  Besides, I knew every hook into her software so 
well by now that I could get anything I wanted from her just by 
saying the right words.  You'd think that would grow old, but if 
you do, you've never seen how hot Lonnie has remained.  And while 
she is equally content with our relationship as it is, 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 while holding my 
hands, "In all the ways I understand that word to mean it.  
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 hubris that led me to 
try and deny my true nature for so long.  I lost my relationship 
with your uncle through 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 held each 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 
than even minutes ago, and cried some more.  I was amazed at this 
torrent of emotion she had never revealed before.

Afterwards that, she dragged me over to the bed up there and gave 
me the best sex of my life - which is saying a lot by now.

- - -

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 spring it on me at many of the most unexpected moments - 
along with all the expected ones.

On our tenth anniversary I officially freed her, as our society 
has evolved to include the idea of emancipated robots now.  I 
told her in the process 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.  We collaborated on improvements in her hardware and 
software, though none of them ever changed her much from what whe 
already was.

As the years passed, people became envious of my lovely, young 
wife, and wondered how - beyond my money - I kept her such 
obvious devotion.  When either of us were ever 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 exactly the way I'd first met her.

- - -

In my last days, she sat beside me for every minute, with a 
devotion that only a robot could maintain.  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 to 
be 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, though you feel you can still 
reach out and drag it back again.  However, 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 have preceded you are 
waiting in joyous celebration of your return to them, in offset 
to those behind in grief at your loss.  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 had 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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