HOUSEBOT



Jennie was taking the clothes out of the drier when he got home. Man,
what an ass! Bent over like she was, Mark was tempted to just flip up
her skirt and . . . But no, the security circuits would zap him if he
tried anything like that. Her bedmate module hadn't been installed.

Damn! It cost an extra fifteen thou to add sexual functionality to a
housebot. Where in hell could he get his hands on that kind of luchre?
Wait a minute! What about that ad on ShoppersNet about bootleg bot mods?

Yep, there it was. Piratronics was selling "unauthorized" expansion mods
for $1800 cash. For another $200, they'd throw in a 5 Tb flash memory
upgrade. Hey, that much he could swing, maybe with a little help from
the loansharks.


Step one was powering her down and popping open the access hatch
just below her navel (WARNING: NO USER SERVICEABLE PARTS. AUTHORIZED
TECHNICIANS ONLY!). The module and the memory card plugged right in. No
problemo. Yeah, and he was supposed to take her back to the dealership
so a licensed bot-tech could charge $500 an hour to do this? Ha!

Now for the reprogramming. There was a small keypad below the mini-display
screen in the expansion bay inside the hatch. Mark carefully punched
in the codes from page 26 of the crudely photocopied manual that had
accompanied the new mod. The screen flashed _Upgrade Successful_ and
there were three short beeps. All done!

"All right, babe. Take off that damn skirt and drop your panties. Wow,
we're lookin' good. Now, just get on your hands and knees and . . . "

Jennie's pussy was every bit as hot and juicy as Mark's last girlfriend's.
He groaned as it gripped and squeezed and milked him of every last drop
of his essence.

"Good girl. Now, take me in your mouth. Ah, yes, that's right. I'm getting
hard again, and wait . . . looks like you've got another hole I haven't
explored yet."

Oops! As he reached out toward her bare behind, a warning buzzer went
off and he got a mild electric shock.

Shit! The bedmate mod hadn't enabled backdoor play.

Oh, well, there was still that sweet cunt of hers . . .

"Harder! Do me harder, guy!"

"Okay, okay. Gosh, I'm worn out now. Isn't three times in a night enough
for you?"

"I'm a housebot, remember? That means I can go all day and all night. That
mod you installed made a new woman out of me. Whee! No more housework
for me! All I want to do now is _fuck_."

Sheeit! What had he gotten himself into?



"Wha-? What is it? Jenny? It's four in the morning!"

"I'm horny. Stick it in me, stud."

"I -- I don't think I can. That last one took a lot out of me and -- "

"Trust me. My programming includes a complete repertory of arousal
techniques. Now, turn over."

"What?"

Mark found himself involuntarily flipped onto his stomach. Jenny was
stronger than he was. _Much_ stronger.

"This never fails. It's a guaranteed method of getting a limp noodle to
stand up."

"Hey! What're you doing to me???"

"Stimulating your prostate, guy. Here, this will relax your sphincter
so I can get a finger all the way up inside you."

She had pressed at the base of his spine, and all the tension drained
out of him. He felt himself being entered . . . and sure enough, his
noodle was no longer limp.

He managed another two orgasms that night. That prostate trick of hers
got him hard even when he was utterly physically exhausted, and when
she rode him and her magic pussy rhythmically pulsed and squeezed and
sucked the juice out of him -- oh, man!



Mark was too drained to go to work the following morning. His supervisor
accepted his excuse of feeling ill, but reminded him that his performance
review was coming up.

Damn! He had been counting on getting a raise, too. The extra pay would
be helpful in paying off the bills, not to mention the money owed to
the sharks for Jenny's upgrade, and, of course, the monthly rent and
maintenance to the Housebot Corp. Oh, well, as long as he was still in
bed, he might as well enjoy it.

"Jenny!"

She had some unsuspected capabilities. It turned out that just above
her pubic bone she had a hot-connect socket for a prosthetic penile
device. Mark wasn't about to rush out and shell out  $500 for one of
those thingamajigs, but he'd keep it in mind. What it would feel like
to get ass-fucked was something he'd been curious about from time to time.

Fucking her was a joyous experience, and the afterglow was nice, too.
Lying cuddled side-by-side and falling asleep to her soothing humming,
and, sometimes, listening to the small talk she'd make. But, naturally
it had to end.

"Mark, once I was a person, too."

_What?_

"And don't think I wouldn't have feelings about being used as a sex toy
. . . if my personality module allowed me to have feelings."

_What?_

"Look, you're probably wondering . . . what a nice girl like me is doing
in a place like this.

"Jenny! Tell me you're joking!"

"I'm incapable of joking. Listen."

He was holding her by the shoulders and staring into her steely eyes.

"I had to do it. _Had to._ He had betrayed me with my best friend. So,
I really didn't have any choice."

"Just _what_ did you have to do, Jenny?"

"I poisoned him."

_Poisoned?_

"And then, of course, I was judged and sentenced. Condemned to twenty
years of involuntary servitude. As a bot. A household servant. A drudge.
An industrial servitor. A sex slave. Or whatever the Housebot Corporation
assigns me as."

The Housebot Corporation? _Slave traders!_

"What they didn't count on, though, was that I could fall for one of my
masters. Fall in love. Or as much in love as I'm capable of in my present
state. Mark, I love . . . I love . . ."

"Jenny, you don't have to say it. I think I'm beginning to love you too."

He shook his head, then continued.

"Look at me. You're a slave of your programming. But, maybe we can do
something about that. There are ways of jiggering the electronic control
circuitry of housebots. Why, just a few days ago -- "

"It's dangerous, Mark. For both of us. You know that. If we're caught
. . ."

"We won't be."

"Well, maybe I can help."



He had Jenny's access hatch open again. Only this time she wasn't powered
down. She was fully conscious and telling him what to do.

"That's right, Mark, hit the RESET toggle at the side of the keypad. Now,
I'm going to give you the codes to enter. And listen carefully! A slip
of the fingers could burn out parts of my nervous system. Ready?"

"But -- "

"Hush! Just do what I say. Back when they were programming me, I managed
to steal a few cheat codes from one of the techs. Press 98-1483-INDIGO-48.
Got that? That cancels out your monthly rent and maintenance charges for
the next twenty years. Just think, from now on you'll get my services for
free. Next, 86-5531-CHOICEX#-19. That should restore most of my free
will and decision making capabilities. Now, 14-443-ANSEX-28FF. That'll
be a special treat for you. It'll unlock my rear orifice. Got that?"



Her anal sphincter dimpled inward, then yielded to his thrust. Jennie
reached back to pull apart her ass cheeks to assist the entry. Tight and
smooth inside! And even hotter in there than in her pussy. Contractions
and ripples! She was pulsing the walls of her gut to massage his cock!
And he spilled his seed deep inside her in the ultimate act of possession.

She was his woman now. All of her. And she loved him.

Jenny kept house, cooked meals, washed dishes, and took care of his
physical needs. She was the perfect wife-substitute. Best of all, she
came without strings attached.

Life was good.



_"Who the bloody hell is that banging on the front door? Damn it, it's
two in the morning!"_

"OPEN UP! POLICE!"

Bleary eyed, Mark staggered out of the bedroom in his underwear. He stared
at the perimeter security monitor screen. There were several uniformed
men on the porch. One of them was holding up an official-looking badge
to the camera lens. It looked genuine. And, parked at the curb were a
couple of squad cars with revolving red flashers. _Holy, shit!_

"You are advised that anything you say may be used in evidence against
you. You are further advised to request the services of an attorney,
since the charges against you are extremely serious."

It's hard to maintain your dignity in handcuffs. Mark broke down and
cried.



"Under the circumstances, I'm afraid that's the best we can do, Mark."

The lawyer's words had a grim finality to them. Damn! If only he had
been able to afford a top-echelon criminal attorney, instead of having
to settle for Legal Aid. But, after the government had frozen his assets
and the loansharks had cleaned him out of what little cash and salable
possessions he had left, he had been flat broke.

"So, you're saying I should accept the deal the DA is offering me. Plead
guilty to theft of services and tampering with Housebot corporate
property. And then just throw myself on the mercy of the court?"

"Consider the alternative, Mark. If you were convicted of the more serious
charges against you -- second degree felony bot-modification and sabotage,
you'd face mandatory commitment to a Transplant Organ Center. They'd
butcher you up for spare parts, then flash-freeze your brain and put it
into storage. Sure, you wouldn't be dead, technically, but . . . "


"Does the defendant have anything to say before sentencing?"

"Your Honor, I'm basically an innocent victim. I didn't know I was
doing anything wrong, and I didn't realize it was that big a deal
anyhow. Furthermore, I found out that Jenny, the housebot I allegedly
tampered with, received a five-year reduction in her term of servitude in
return for her testimony against me. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if
she were the one who turned me in. This whole thing smells like a setup!"

"That may well be the case, but it does not qualify as mitigating
circumstances. You broke the law, and you must therefore accept the
consequences. The court sentences you, Mark Ivan Mangold, to servitude
under the auspices of the Housebot Corporation, a quasi-governmental
agency, for a period of not less than 20 years."

Twenty years! It might as well be a death sentence. He'd be converted into
a bot and have control circuitry surgically implanted in him. After that,
there was no telling where he could end up. . . . As a household servant
maybe. An assembly line slave in a semiconductor fabrication plant. Even
a bumboy in a HomoBrothel. Well, all right, he could probably survive
even _that_. Just as long as they didn't put him digging ore in the
uranium mines . . .