Happy Holidays [story submitted 24-Dec-1999 Ed.]
PrologueThe form looked like a typical secure Internet information screen. Yet, it was quite different for a couple of reasons, the first being it was 14 pages long and secondly it contained fields that exhaustively detailed a sexual fantasy of one's choosing. Upon completing the form, I was requested to upload 12 of my favorite fetish pictures and any favorite stories, preferably ones that I had written, to the "site".
I had received email a day later, stating that my fantasy was achievable, but the woman suitable for this was booked solid for 6 months. As an alternative, would I consider experiencing the fantasy with a specialized android with an unprecedented settle at the end "only if satisfied"? The "site" had been very upfront telling me that the robot had heavy lab testing, but that I would be her very first client, yet they would stake their reputation on her skills. Being more than curious about a session with an android, I consented.
There was a mandatory initial consultation, where I spoke to the "site's" staff psychiatrist who also conducted my physical. During our session, he confirmed my fantasy requirements as well as quietly checked out my psychological stability. He reiterated that my fantasy was not too unusual, being dominated by a baby-sitter / governess (who would appear actually younger than myself). Without divulging details, he warned me several times that her control over me would be total as I requested and would have no lasting psychological and physical effects, yet would be quite overwhelming..... and did I think that I could deal with it? I excitedly replied yes and we scheduled a "session"...
Part I. THE INTRODUCTION
February 5th, 6pm finally came. I had thought about my "session" often, but had been too busy at work to dwell on it. There was a knock at the door just before 6 and I answered it.
At the door was what looked like a very attractive woman of about 20 or 21 years. She was about 5'6", had brown hair to her shoulders and large blue eyes. Her face was quite striking, in a pixy sort of way, with delicate curled eyelashes, a round face and perfect straight nose with cupid lips. She wore a nylon winter jacket with red sneakers. I liked her white woolen winter gloves, which made her look quite youthful. In her white glove she was holding a suitcase by the handle. She gave me a toothy wholesome grin and introduced herself as P1, she quickly corrected herself and told me that her name was Prescilla and that addressing her as Miss Priss was fine. Her voice was as sweet and soothing as ice cream and I realized that she sounded like Victoria Principal on Dallas reruns.
Miss Priss said "Hi Howie; now be a good boy and put on the jammies that I brought for you while I go freshen up." Miss Priss produced a pair of feety doctor dentons for me. When I hesitated for a moment, she fixed me with a stern gaze and walked upstairs to the bathroom.
I was curious why she initially introduced herself as P1. I was also having strong second thoughts and guilt about this whole thing. What was wrong with me, being nearly middle aged and having these fantasies, wanting to be dominated and teased mercilessly like a h---- adolescent? Was I about to be ripped off? With what capabilities could a robot be programmed with to dominate me? How good could it really be? Then, ...
Miss Priss then yelled down from the bathroom upstairs, "I hope you've changed into your dentons, Howie! Boys with good manners don't keep their governesses waiting!"
Hearing this, (feeling even annoyed) I stripped down quickly and changed quickly into my pajamas.
THE SECOND INTRODUCTION
I heard different hollow sounding footsteps descending my tiled stairs, which could never be mistaken for sneakers, as my head jerked in the direction of the sound. My eyes widened as I caught my next sight of Miss Priss ...
She wore a tight blue, yellow and red tweed knee length skirt complimented by a matching blue blazer and a high neck white silk blouse. What held my attention were the black leather platform boots that disappeared under the hem of her skirt. In addition the skirt had a slit going up, that would not immediately reveal the tops of her leather boots. Miss Priss also donned a pair of black fashion rubber gloves which continued up under her blazer sleeves. Her outfit was a combination of equestrian, schoolgirl, and fetish, yet no school girl I ever saw wore such tall zipped boots with 6" gothic (stacked, tapering) heels and 2" platforms.
The robot strutted down the steps very purposely and confidently. She paused in front of a bank of lighting dimmer switches while both skin tight rubber gloves daintily adjusted the controls, raising the intensity. This caused me to wish that some sensitive part of my body was administered to with such tender care. I had mentioned in my "site" profile the strong feelings of transference to my body, when watching a boot or glove touch inanimate objects, especially electromechanical devices. In addition, having such a lovely robot (a device) autonomously controlling another device was almost too much for me ... my second thoughts/doubt on the whole matter were quickly disappearing .
The lines of Miss Priss's blazer and silk shirt revealed an ample bust line, which was thrust up and out by her high heeled boots as she walked. Watching her lithe movements, in the now well lit room, as her breasts undulated under her shimmering silk blouse was an unforgettable sight.
The android slowly scanned the living room and then walked directly up to me. She stood nearly 6'0''' in her boots, causing me to look up to make eye contact. The robot's proximity had caused me to become erect. The next thing that I realized was my pajama's pee pee hole was probably purposely stretched, causing me to begin to poke out. The additional effect of being clothed like a child in the presence of a well dressed, taller android wearing fetish clothing, brought out my inferiority complex. When you factor in her "apparent" junior age and our reversed roles of authority, any feelings of submissiveness on my part were deepened, which stoked the flames of my libido. She cocked her head slightly giving me an interesting look of sadness or sympathy.
Miss Priss' Command Processor (MPCP): Assume initial position of transformation sequence. Engage client, stimulation level 2.
Miss Priss reached out and gently brushed her gloved palms around my fingers, her algorithms apparently having been tuned and sensitized to the effect that her first gloved touch would have on me. Her knowledge of my fetishes was just another advantage that she would have in the chess game of our session that I was hoping to concede to the agony of "de-feet" (actually her feet in boots- pardon the pun) .Taking her time to indulge me ,this continued for some seconds while she stepped forward, her boots being only inches from my bare feet. After, Miss Priss's gloved hands sensually glided down to my wrists. My attention meandered down to the glossiness of the rounded tips of her recently buffed boots, continued up to her crisp hemline and skirt slit, then on to the gloves touching me.
[MPCP- (MISS PRISS COMMAND PROCESSOR)
An auxiliary processor that provides mission directives, based on feedback directives are modified. Miss Priss sends it status of her actions]
Miss Priss' Command Processor (MPCP): Have the human assume submissive position 1066. Cause the client a minimum of pain. Look away from client to disorient him.
My reverie was abruptly extinguished when I began to feel her grip slowly tighten while simultaneously both my wrists were methodically twisted. Miss Priss's strength was enormous, I could not shake her grip or straighten my posture as I was coerced into a crouching position. What made it even seem stranger was that my mechanical governess' eyes were glassy and unfocused. She seemed out of touch with what she was doing.
Status: Client is completely restrained. No resistance is possible.
Command: Distract his anguish.
In a teasing gesture one shiny boot was thrust forward, nearly touching my groin.
Status: Human is fixated on right boot heel.
Command: Prepare for transformation, hypnosis level 3, set eye intensity at 1200 lumens
I looked up into Miss Priss's eyes as her far off gaze turned very intense and focused on me. I had no idea what was happening as Miss Priss's eyes were becoming more luminous. I felt physical energy enter into my eyes from hers as her irises began to dilate and flash what appeared to be abstract patterns of beautiful colors. I still had enough presence of mind to know that I was being hypnotised by the robot, but my resistance to look away was rapidly disintegrating. They were smiling eyes, so non threatening and whimsical, yet I felt like I was being removed from my body. Her eyes made her look like a strangely defective doll (though she was totally human like), yet everything that Miss Priss seemed to do was for a purpose . I didn't remember hypnosis being discussed with the site's psychologist? Consciousness quickly faded.
Status: Client is docile, my control is total
Command: Check brain waves, permission is granted to release client from grip.
Miss Priss removed her grip and began to sweetly stroke Howie's hair. She stopped at several points and just rested her fingers at different points on his scalp. In actuality her gloves had tiny sensors along the fingers and palms to measure brain waves.
Status: Brain waves are in active beta state. Patient is now vulnerable to re-configuration (posthypnotic suggestion.)
Command: Continue Transformation
[Note: All memories of the trance were forgotten by Howard, when he awoke]
Miss Priss preened through Howard's hair once more, confirming beta state activity with continued to execute her secret agenda, as she gently guided him to a face down position on the carpet.
She produced a small capsule from the pocket of her skirt and repositioned her a booted foot inches from her victim's nose. Prescilla then crouched down and cupped one hand around Howard's mouth, forcing him to breathe through his nostrils. Next her other rubber gloved hand carefully inserted the capsule under the ball of her foot, as Miss Priss' high heeled platform boot repeatedly crushed down on the capsule, causing it to disintegrate, exposing her target's nasal passages directly to it's vaporous.
Miss Priss commanded him, "Howie, you are now to listen to Miss Priss carefully. Please breathe deeply and tell me what you smell. You may sit up now."
Howie [in a trance] replied, "I smell Tea Rose perfume."
Miss Priss continued with, "What do you associate this with? Please tell me in detail."
Howie [in a trance] said, "It reminds me of Noreen, I had a crush on her in 7th grade. She was a beautiful blue eyed blond and was the tallest girl in the class. I didn't hit my growth spurt yet, she seemed very tall to me..."
Miss Priss pursued the imagery, "What else did you tell the doctor about Noreen when discussing your profile?"
Howie [in a trance] continued, "Toward the end the year, Noreen started to wear high heeled black knee boots with skirts. She used to catch me staring at them al ot. She even called me 'How-weird'. One day, in class, she was sitting behind me and I dropped my pen on purpose to get near Noreen's boots. I crouched down to get the pen with my fingers only inches away from her feet. Then, I couldn't help it, I stroked her boot making it look like an accident. She didn't seem to notice, but when I tried to stand up, her boot lurched forward and kicked me square in the balls. I excused myself from class, went to the bathroom and ... you know..."
Miss Priss nodded after Howard told the story. She seemed quiet for a second, then unexpectedly stepped forward and kicked him in the groin lightly. He doubled over and coughed, holding his privates.
Miss Priss explained, "Howie, being that you are now fully under my hypnosis, I will now give you an explanation about what I'm doing. You will not remember this conversation when you become fully conscious, due to your trance. The explanation will bond us better on a subconscious level. I'm not doing this because I'm kind or charitable, only so I can be more effective in your 'transformation'."
Howard was still in a sitting position. He felt the robot's presence, yet she seemed very far away, and her words were incoherent. Miss Priss did another brain wave check using the sensors on her gloves. Her next move was to flex her foot, positioning her boot tip just touching the crown of his penis, occasionally applying light teasing pressure to it. At this depth of trance, Howie slowly grew a hard on, yet subconsciously the experience was intense as intended. She continued to check his brain waves and occasionally stroked his chin with her rubber gloves attentively.
Miss Priss said, "My 'creators' are studying ways to use post hypnotic suggestion to influence potential targets. My ocular hypnotic circuitry was actually flashing you different types of subliminal patterns. On the visible level you saw pretty colors and patterns, on a subtler level you saw interleaving frames of me dressed in different fetish outfits, performing certain fantasy acts pertaining to your sexual fantasy profile, that you provided. The eroticism was interspersed with what we call subconscious latch key images. In analogy it is 'your medicine', the other frames were buffering. The latch key images, when viewed, make one's subconscious vulnerable to post-hypnotic suggestion, in most cases.
Miss Priss stood and paraded in front of him. "You have now associated me closely with the event that you experienced with Noreen. One factor that catalyzes the subconscious latch key effect is when the something of great importance to the 'target' is imposed by on him by the aggressor - causing a stronger bonding effect. By using my tall platform boots and gloves to stimulate and control you, I will have assisted the latch key process by taking advantage of your fetishes and desire to be administered to. Also crushing the Tea Rose gas capsule in your face also reminded you of another favorite figure in your past. (Cat Woman)
Hardly pausing her explanation, Miss Priss deftly unbuttoned her "target's" pajama tops and pulled them off, while she resumed her gentle platform boot masturbation of Howard. Next the robot removed a vial from her blazer pocket marked "Skin aphrodisiac" and applied it liberally to her rubber gloves. Her dark rubber sheathed fingers then traced tight circles around Howie's nipples and occasionally wandered down to lightly tickle his belly or finger his belly button. When the gloves became drier, they were re-coated with the skin balm.
Miss Priss' voice took on a commanding tone. "You will now listen extremely carefully... I 'will' you to block out everything that has happened to you in your life before high school. You will believe that your parents have gone away for several weeks and have left me in charge of you. You have had an enormous growth spurt and became dizzy and took a bad fall on your head accounting for your confusion. You have no desire to look at yourself in the mirror. This should simulate your behavior as a 13 year old.
Prescilla then pulled something out of her pocket that looked like a old fashioned miniature switch box. It had several rows of toggle switches, each row having a small white push button under it. Her latex finger tips deftly manipulated one of the banks of toggles. Following this, her thumb continued to press the small white button under it, while she whispered something to Howie as her boot tip continued it's teasing rhythm of his cock.
The android forced Howard's eyes open exposing him to her sparkling irises once again, this time to bring Howie out of his trance.
Miss Priss said kindly, " Howie, I don't enjoy what I'm about to do, but I must test you."
Miss Priss abruptly reached down into Howie's pajama bottoms and wrapped her gloved hand around Howie's testicles. She squeezed.
Miss Priss asked, "Howie, who is the president of the US in 1999? I'm sorry, but I can't let go of you until you tell me..."
As the android's glove continued to tighten, Howie screamed that he had no idea as to the answer, as he slumped to the floor.
Status: The memory blocking test was successful.
Command: Continue Transformation