Date: Sat, 24 Sep 2005 11:22:33 -0500
From: ^sHarp Simon-Harper <sharper@inorbit.com>
Subject: "I am not interested" - Chapter TWO

"I am not interested" - Chapter TWO - gay SF story - by Simon Harper -
sharper@inorbit.com - Please tell me what you think, especially if you
like it ;-)

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Christopher re-did the packaging, placing travel strips on my eyelids,
reinserting plugs in my nose, ears and anus, putting travel mitts to hold
my fingers in place and a chest band on my arms so that they didn't flap
about. My legs were locked together over a reinforced armature that
extended up my back and clamped around my neck with a broad padded
collar. The head packaging was formed to fit round precisely and as he
clipped it shut he said, "Open your mouth", and inserted a gag connected
to the face mask. "Close your mouth tight."

It was dark. I could feel the gag filling my mouth, pressing down on my
tongue. A pale light filtered through to my eyes. Christopher adjusted
and tightened the straps around my arms, chest, waist and legs. He poured
a fast setting packaging foam over my genitals and finally, whispering
"Off, raised my whole body up prior to lowering me into the reinforced
travel package tub - a rigid thin skinned tube.

A pale light shone through, even through my eyelids. I could picture
myself floating in a surreal pink space, spinning, bouncing and turning
through a bright and airless pink space. As I was moved my body
pressurised itself against different parts of the packaging. I pictured
myself in a crowd at a dance club, lots of people dancing up to me,
dancing with me.

Then the movement stopped, I was removed from the tube and part of the
packaging was released.

"Still switched on," said a voice.

I heard several voices, and then I heard Christopher. I couldn't speak
because most of the packaging was still wrapped round me and into me. I
could feel fingers touching the bare skin of my chest and legs.

I heard Christopher say that he must have forgotten to switch me off. I
was still detectable. Why was he trying to transport me? asked a voice.
Did he know it's illegal to take a Sex Apparatus out of its registered
abode? Did he understand why that was? Did he have any idea the danger
society would be in? Did he? Sex Apparatus were potentially . . .
rapists, killers, anything.

Christopher said, "Oh, he wouldn't do anything."

"Sex Apparatus are what you'd expect," said a voice, "sex obsessed,
programmed to achieve orgasm for the user and they have no other
function."

"He's my companion," protested Christopher.

"Companion? Fuck! He's your fuck. Sex Apparatus wandering the street
would react to any situation - any situation - as a sexual situation. You
know all this. It might mean fucking a little girl who happened to ask
for, say, a sweetie or something."

Christopher laughed. "I know the law," he said, "but you are being
absurd."

"Why isn't it switched off?"

"I'm sorry, I honestly forgot. I can't believe it because I knew I'd be
caught if he was detectable."

"We knew the moment you loaded it into the transport."

"I know, I know. I thought . . . I'm sure I switched it, him, off."

"This is why all movement of Sex Apparatus from the registered abode it
absolutely banned unless by some authorised loader. They look like us,
they think like us, they talk like us, and they act like us, BUT THEY
AREN'T US!! Do you hear?! They are irresponsible - too highly
suggestible; they always obey even when no explicit command is given.
They are always in sex mode, always looking for potential sexual
behaviour, always willing to fuck anything, touch anything up. They
respond to the slightest inflection even when it is unconscious.

"That's why we love'em, I guess," said Christopher with a smile in his
voice.

"Don't get clever. You've broken the terms of your registration. That's a
serious matter."

"Yes Sir."

There was a silence.

"What happens next?" asked Christopher.

"I need to do a check."

"A check?"

"Do a reverse pack of it. You'll be recorded."

"Of course . . . What do you mean?"

"I mean you'll be recorded for playback if necessary."

"I know what a record is," said Christopher. "I'm not stupid. But what do
you mean by 'reverse-pack him'?"

"The other voice sighed audibly and said, "It means unpack it precisely
in the order that you packed it. We need to see what you did."

Christopher's gentle hands glanced over my skin. I felt his heightened
tremor level and other anxiety indicators. He released the packing foam
from around my genital triggering an automatic arousal.

"Not now," Christopher whispered to me.

"What's that?" barked the other voice. "Do not talk to it. We need a
clean assessment. That erection is precisely what I mean. Precisely.
That's just from unpacking its penis. Christ. It's a fucking accident
waiting to happen."

"Yes Sir," said Christopher. "I think it's just that he senses my
familiarity . . . and kind of assumes I want sex."

"'Cos that's all you ever used it for."

"No, I love him."

"Sex Apparatus, is well known fact, interpret ALL affection as an
overture to indecency."

Christopher carried on. His hands tried to push my erection back into
place but he soon gave up. His hands brushed down my legs releasing
catches and smoothing away the straps from my arms and chest. I could
sense the kindness and the heat of his worry in his touch. He pulled open
my out and the gag slipped out. "Christopher," I said. "I am sorry."

"Do not reply," barked the other voice and then more gently he said, "Sex
Apparatus," and he quoted my registration protocol , "Robert, you will
remain still and silent until instructed. Prepare all data for
retrieval."

My mouth closed slowly.

"Can I carry on?" asked Christopher.

He broke away the head packaging and his hot nervous breath hit my face
and moved the hairs on that part of my body.

Next he unhitched the collar and, at the other end of the armature, my
legs. He opened the broad strap holding my arms to my chest and they fell
away slightly. He pulled off the finger mitts. He rolled me over - out of
all the broken and disordered packaging, which he pushed off the broad
table I found myself on.

"What are you doing?" asked the voice.

"There is an anal plug."

"Let me." Different hands - one laid on my buttock gently and the
other taking the end of the anal plug, twiting it a couple of times
before ripping it suddenly out of my anal hole.

I rolled back. My ears were unplugged - by Christopher again, I could
tell - and at last the tapes on my eyes were peeled gently off by his
fingers. He did not wish to injure me. Again the feeling of his breath on
my face and his body pressed into my side where he was leaning over me.

"Good boy," he said.

"Open," said the voice.

I opened my eyes and saw Christopher's face staring at me, his eyes full
of frightened, caring tears.

"I have some questions," said the voice. I swivelled my head to the sound
of his voice and saw a burly broad chested officer in some kind of
uniform watching me. "Sit up," he said.

I sat up and turned on the table so that my legs fell and bent at the
knee.

"Why are you SO erect?" he said

"I respond to Christopher's touch."

"You respond to any touch."

"I respond differently."

He walked towards me. "Pity," he said, and he put a hand under my chin,
turning my head from side to side, inspecting me. He ran his palm over my
head at which point he took a finger and flicked my erect penis. "Pity
you can't control that."

"I can control that," I said.

"Why don't you then?"

"My processing indicates I should not."

He looked briefly embarrassed. "I'm going to recommend that this Sex
Apparatus is de-programmed and redeployed," he said."

"No!" screamed Christopher. "Why?"

"Well, it's normal in this situation, for a start, but also, in this
case, you clearly failed to take the basic protection of switching it off
before transportation. That really is basic, really basic. You're
forgetful. And now that it's mapped - mapped on to you - de-programming
is just the most effective remedy."

"I don't understand it," said Christopher. "I clearly recall, I mean I'm
practically 100% certain I switched him off."

"100%?"

"I did it just as I was closing the head."

"Is that correct?" asked the officer, addressing his question to me. He
stood with his thighs pressing against my knees, breathing heavily and
watching me carefully, very carefully, one hand on my chin.

"Yes," I said."

"Yes?" asked Christopher.

"Yes," I said.

The officer gave my face a slap and asked, "What the fuck do you mean?"

"I mean he did switch me off. At  . . ." and I read him the time stamp.

"I did?" said Christopher. "So how come you were detected?"

"It was switched on," said the officer. "Who switched you on?" he asked,
his thighs pressing into me, his hand holding my chin in his fierce grip,
holding my head so that his eyes were glaring straight into my eyes.

"I did," I said.

The officer sighed a long slow sad sigh. He put his large hands on my
shoulders and looked long and hard into my eyes. "Oh dear," he said. "You
really are in a whole lot of trouble now, you really are."

"I am?" said Christopher.

"NOT YOU  . . . you'll probably get a reprimand for attempted
unauthorised relocation of a Sex Apparatus. It's this, erm," - he read my
name from his notes - "Robert, here, I'm most concerned about."

"Robert is my name," I said.

"Yes, that's right," sighed the officer and he pulled me off the table,
forward, and into his arms and he wrapped his arms around me and crushed
my head against his chest. I heard his heart beat and, as his body
responded to holding my body against his, my erection hardened.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Christopher didn't want to leave me but the officer insisted. He read him
his indictment and advised him to wait at home for a call from the
authorities.

"What about Robert?" Christopher asked.

"It must be left here now. There is no legal way to transport at this
stage. There's no telling what it might get up to. We'll keep it here,
secure."

Christopher gave me a hug and said goodbye. There were tears in his eyes.
"I'll never see you again I'm afraid," he said.

"You have broken the law," I said.

At that Christopher went almost purple and broke down in tears. "He
doesn't understand any of this," he said. Then he said to me "Sorry.
Goodbye." And he left.

"He has broken the law," I said to the officer.

The officer compiled some incident data, ignoring me. When he had
finished he told me to sit in a special room. As he was closing the door
he switched off the light. "Off," he said.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

We are not allowed to go out. When we go out we can be detected and
tracked and detained. (Not if we are switched off. If we are switched off
we cannot be detected. ) This is how society is protected from the
potentially damaging sex assaults we could perform. Our addresses are
registered. We can be switched on at our registered addresses by our
registered users. At our registered addresses it is the registered user's
responsibility to maintain safety. My registered user is Christopher. He
has the responsibility.

I switched myself on.

The little room was 2.9% illuminated. I listened to the sounds of the
building. I could hear people walking about. I could hear muffled
conversations and meaningless thumps and bangs.

A line of light suddenly appeared around the door of my room. Something
was happening.

I recognised the voice of the officer, saying, "It's got autonomy."

Then a younger voice said, "No way . . . ? How's that happen?"

"Beats me," said the officer. "Sad, 'cs the little blighter'll have to be
trashed."

I think they were talking about me.

"Can't it be wiped and re-programmed?" asked the younger voice.

"Not with any certainty. You see, it just might happen again. These
things don't have the responsibility developed so that they can be
trusted. It's about dependability . . . discipline. Self discipline.
Dependability. Responsibility."

The officer opened the door and showed me to the guy with the younger
voice - he wasn't an officer. I don't think he was an official, judging
by his clothes.

As soon and the officer saw me he said, "See!"

The younger guy's face appeared beside him. "What?" he said.

"Well, it's switched itself on. I switched it off before I locked up.
That's what's meant by 'autonomy'."

"Blimey, that's dangerous."

"Telling me."

"I am not dangerous," I said.

"I know that's how you feel," said the officer. He came into the room and
put his arms around me. "But quite frankly you don't know any more than
we do about what you might do if you had the chance."

I put my arms around the officer and held on to him as tightly as I
could.

"There, there," he said.

"I am not dangerous," I said.

"There, there."

"Can we have him out here?" asked the younger guy. "I'd really like to
take a good look at him."

"C'mon," said the officer, and he led me out into the bright room. I
stood there, looking down, naked.

"He's got a really beautiful figure," said the Younger man.

"Not much point making an ugly one, is there?"

"No, guess not."

He walked up to me and felt my body, rubbing my muscles up and down. He
lifted my eyelids to see behind them and he lifted my penis to examine
it. He put his hand round my testicles.

"Bend forward," he said, and I showed him my anal hole. "Ok," he said,
giving me my buttocks a whack. "Stand!"

"He's so perfect," he laughed. "I had no idea they were so perfect. Oh
shit!" I had started an erection. "He's getting turned on!"

"Senses your libido," said the officer.

"No . . . that's . . . wow. That's so fucking clever. So he knows . . .
how people feel . . . "

"Measures body temperature, magnetic flux, tons of stuff, and works it
out. It is amazing I admit."

"And he's what, gonna be, what? Just ripped apart? What, incinerated?
What?"

"Ripped apart, smashed, compressed, chopped up, incinerated . . . you
name it. There won't be two atoms still touching of his by the time his
ashes have been ground up and reprocessed."

I watched the officer say this.

"It's a crying shame," said the younger guy. He's so amazing.

"I guess."

"Don't you think so?"

"I guess."

"You don't think he's amazing?"

"Yes! Of course I think he's amazing. I think he's beautiful and charming
and lovely." He had stopped calling me "it" for some reason. "He's
totally gorgeous and I think he knows it. He doesn't want this to happen
- see how sad he looks. That isn't normal. He understands what's going
on."

"He's human!"

"Not human . . . but very, very sensitive and lovely."

"I am not dangerous," I said.

"No, you are not," said the officer.

The Younger man kissed me on the cheek and held my hand. "You are
wonderful," he said.

"I am not dangerous," I said.

"Oh, and another thing," said the officer with a grin, "he's an
incredible fuck!"

"What do you mean? What's incredible about it?"

"I mean like an incredible fuck. He has this special anus that can, well,
give you the fuck of your life. Million times better than any real fuck."

"No? . . .  Can we  . . . try it?"

"Don't see why not!"

My erection was full size now and the head of my penis moved gently up
and down.

The younger man started to open his clothes. His penis was large and had
also been hardening for some time. A glistening bead of precum gathered
on the tip.

"Well, bend over, I guess," he said to me. I obeyed him. He put his penis
inside my hole.

"Wowhh hhh oh yes," he said, "that is . . . Christ. Je-sus. What a
beautifulbeautiful. Fuck. Oh Christ."
 
He pumped it harder.

"Would you like it to Max?" I asked.

"What? Oh, yeah, whatever, I guess."

I switched it to Max.

The younger man let out a howl, a blood curdling expression of ecstasy.
"FUkn, FUkn, FUkn, FUkn, FUck!" he screamed, and I imagine he wasn't very
used to this feeling in his penis because he pulled out immediately and
held his dick in a mixture of agony and jubilation.

"Now I know what they mean!" he screeched. "He really is dangerous!" He
stamped his foot, holding his hands over his bolting prick. "If I hadn't
pulled out he'd've fucked me into . . . oblivion! Fuck! Man!"

"They take some getting used to. You shouldn't progress too quickly; it
takes lots of practise to get it. Once you are used to the initial feel
of the thing, then, and only then should you go up, a notch at a time,
slowly, to Max. If not then there's a real danger, sure is, that you'll
lose either," he started to laugh, "your mind, or your knob . . . or
both!" and he broke down in tears of laughter.

After some moments of recovery they both stood for a while just looking
at me in total wonder. Like I was a brand new.

Then the officer said, "Off."

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

"I am not interested" - Chapter TWO - gay SF story - by Simon Harper -
sharper@inorbit.com - Please tell me what you think, especially if you
like it ;-)