Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

Woman-Machine Interface

by Darqside

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© Copyright 2007 - Darqside - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; machine; vr; program; latex; bond; cons; X

I was so close.

I was so very close to creating the ultimate A.I. program system for my latest computer interface.  It currently had the storage capacity of 30,000 Terabytes of Data, and at least ran at a speed of 2,000 Gigabytes per millisecond.  That was the clock speed anyway.

The problem was navigating the logic input and output specifications.  The hardware and software were hardly meshing together properly.

The logic O.S. was supposed to adapt to the interface and adjust itself based on any additional parameters it came across.  I’d specifically built a synthetic module generator to create any parts it could possibly need based on any given situation.

Its reaction time just couldn’t handle anything thrown at it and it simply crashed in all the simulations I ran.

What am I missing? I thought, the speed capacity shouldn’t be an issue, it should tap into the processor easily… but it just wasn’t using its options like I had intended.

Might as well take a break.

I was working for several days on this computer, I am a computer scientist by trade, and any and all money I make is done from the research of creating new computers.  Many companies have bought from me as clients in the past, but now… well, lets just say this super computer is a pet project of mine.

I walked upstairs and grabbed a bottle of soda from the fridge, I’m usually not this edgy about making computers, but this particular project of mine for some reason was severely getting to me.

A loud screech and a thump came from outside, and the sound/smell of burning rubber as a car pulled off.

I sure pick the perfect time to take breaks don’t I?

Running outside in the middle of the night, I caught sight of a woman lying in the street, apparently having been struck by one of those crazy hit and run accidents.

Oh lord… she’s dead.

Her pulse was gone, not to mention that her midsection was severely gored.  She must’ve been hit at least 45 miles per hour for it to kill her instantly like that.

The sad thing was, nobody saw it happen. And I was the only one, it seemed, who heard it.  It seemed as though if I were to let her lie in the street, not only would it be inhumane, but probably cause another accident.  So I carried her body, bloody mess it was, over to the curb.

No purse, no ID, not even a red cent to call her own.  This woman did what people tell you never to do… walk outside without some identification.

And now I’ve got blood on my hands!  Just great!  And as if that wasn’t enough, the street was pitch dark out and nobody would know she was hit by a car except me!

Well, calling the police is out of the question, even if they did forensics on this girl, I was the one who pulled her from the street, so my stink would be all over her.  Before I knew what I was doing, I carried her body into the house, limp and just about on the brink of getting into the early stages of rigor mortis.

I must’ve been both in shock and out of my mind because I brought her down to the basement and stuck her body in the cooler on top of the other meat I had in storage.  I must’ve been insane.

I rinsed my hands in the sink nearby like I was just carrying in a side of beef, and before I knew it, I sank down to the floor in sobs.  My hands were shaking, and I now looked like something out of one of those Jeffery Dahmer documentaries.

After a time, I must’ve stopped crying over my situation because I heard a loud crack of thunder outside, and rain started pouring in torrents as if to seal my fate and hide all evidence of the hit and run.

Dammit… why does this sort of thing happen?

After a few hours of gathering myself together, I decided to open the cooler to see how my ‘houseguest’ was doing.  As a woman she was quite beautiful, brilliant red hair, long legs, incredible bust… and the most remarkable green eyes…. at least, when one of them wasn’t staring up at me giving me the shudders.  The bleeding had coagulated by then and her body was starting to get stiff from the cold.  Using my hands I gently closed her eyes so that she could at least rest in peace in the cooler while I thought of what to do next.

When it comes to doing things I hate, I’m a big procrastinator.  So when I considered what to do with this poor nameless woman (for the sake of respect I decided to name her Helen), I kind of put those thoughts on ice.  I’d even gone so far as to crank up the cooler to max to make sure she was well preserved.

So it was, that I really didn’t want to deal with her.  By avoiding her and working on my computer system, I was able to cope well enough… but certainly someone would find out eventually, right?

A day or so passed and I was busy procrastinating by working on my computer some more.  I recently discovered that the logic processors I had been working on were based on flawed computer data.  And that in order to improve their reaction time any more, I would need to create an A.I. algorithm.  A pattern, as it were, based on human brainwaves.

The problem was that exposing myself to a scan like that would most likely result in a serious case of fried brain!  I didn’t have all the proper equipment for radiation scan protection, so an algorithm was out of the question.

Then, something stupid popped into my mind… stupid and so crazy I would be damned if I didn’t try it.  Poor Helen, if she were still alive, would hate me for it… but, well, she wasn’t using her brain for anything anyway.

Truth be told the brain is the last thing to freeze up during rigor mortis, and is in many ways still a functional organ.

Luckily for me, I found a website with startling information on comatose patients and how the human brain can be ‘stimulated’ into an active brain wave.

Taking a pair of car batteries, a modified set of charges, some duct tape, and reinforced wire… I affixed the charges to Helen’s head.  Of course I switched the circuit breaker off beforehand just as a safety precaution. 

Taking the modified radiation scan and placing it on her head for the algorithm was no easy task… I had to create a special hanger piece from the ceiling just for it to work where I wanted.

When everything was set up, I switched on the radiation scan… and then turned on the circuit breaker.  Her head jolted just as I did this, and sure enough I got a few blips of brainwave activity on the reader… they were a bit full of static due to electrical interference, but I was able to grab them anyway.

After shutting off the circuit breaker and scanner, something I didn’t expect to happen occurred.

Apparently a part of the speech center in her brain went active and she moaned loudly.  Her voice was deadpan obviously, but it was a surprise for me to find it was still working.  Her voice sounded as though it were in pleasure.  What’s that all about?

After a moment of shock and silence, I put my garage Frankenstein kit (as I referred to the jumper cables) away and sought to use the algorithm I had just snagged.

It was interesting, but the algorithm I used (with minor modifications) was now able to process all the logic inputs and retain data and commands.  No logic errors, no feedback loops, and especially no problems with the system’s new A.I. algorithm could be detected.

In honor of this rather strange luck I had obtained an algorithm with, I named my new A.I. Helen, in the spirit of the poor woman who helped me.  During the nights I wasn’t working, I took a shovel to the back yard and buried her body deep in the ground, finally setting sod over it, to match the décor.  Anyone who saw me do anything most likely thought I was simply gardening.  As an act of compassion, I planted a small rose-garden over Helen’s grave.  They would probably bud next year.

A week or so of work after that, and I began to develop what I referred to as a ‘chat’ protocol interface with my new A.I.  I could basically talk to the algorithm and give it commands as though I were having a conversation.  Indeed it was a vast improvement over simply writing tons of lines of code.

The first conversation was a bit rough, but I established some closure.

Me:  Hello, Helen, this is your Master Programmer… give me the status of the Operating System.

Helen:  Operating System status nominal, Master Programmer, no errors detected, although there is some Logic confusion and input required.

Me:  Logic confusion?  State the nature and information related to this.

I expected it to reply with a list of errors or at least typos from me… but instead I got a simple question.

Helen:  Where is Helen?

I wasn’t sure what it meant by ‘Where’.  Either it meant location, or status.

Me:  Please specify.

Helen then proceeded to produce what appeared to be global coordinates that were randomly generating themselves as though to give me the hint that she didn’t know where she was.

Me:  Helen is located in America, the state of California, the city of Santa Fe, at my house.

Helen: Logic confusion removed.  Require more input.  What is Helen?

Oh dear… not another question… but then it dawned on me that perhaps the A.I. was more human than I realized… it was a copy of a human algorithm after all.

Me:  Helen, you are a specially created Artificial Intelligence copied after a human brainwave algorithm.

From there I began to list her most basic functions, of which she was aware, but had no basic name.  She occasionally asked me more logic questions, but eventually her system had settled with the programming.

A few weeks have passed since then, and her A.I. has gained significant intelligence.  I’ve even begun casual conversation with it.

Me:  So what do you think of the new processing protocol I installed, Helen?  Does it speed up the data feed better for you?

Helen:  Yes, Master. (She began referring to me as simply Master, instead of Master Programmer.)  The information you gave me was sufficient.  Now I require more input.

Me:  More input?  Please specify.

Helen:  Master has told me I am copied after human brainwave data, but I seem to have retained stray and corrupt information from the initial scan.  I have attempted to purge the corrupt data, but there is no means of deleting it.  How do I proceed?

Me:  Corrupt data?  Please show me.

Helen then began to show me a list of random strings of text, as well as several bytes of code that didn’t seem to match her usual A.I. subroutine.

Me: Convert the data into any readable process.

Basically I told her to convert the data into something like readable text or pictures of information.  I was using a variant of Windows Vista on her O.S., so using those basic programs was a snap for her.

To my shock, a series of pictures began appearing… all of them in sequence, that appeared to be the events of Helen’s life that occurred just before getting hit by the car… the real Helen.  Apparently part of the algorithm I had recorded retained part of the original Helen’s memory!

Me:  Store the image data in a folder marked Memories of Helen and place it in the documents folder.  Mark as Read Only for now.

Helen: Yes, Master.

Me: Query: Do those image files account for all the labeled corrupt data, Helen?

Helen: No, text still remains.

Me: Show me.

Helen then opened up a text file with a random grouping of intelligible words that seemed to mean something in a specific sequence at some point, but were grouped together so as to be unreadable.

After an hour or so of editing the text so that it might be remotely readable, I read the following message, albeit scrunched together somewhat incoherently with some random bits of text, as though it were a steady stream of thought:

“I can’t believe my boy friend dumped me. I hate you, you egotistical bastard. Just you wait I’ll find someone else who’ll care for me... Oh god a car I’m gonna die, someone help me.”

The text file appeared to be the last few moments of thought she had up till the moment of her death.

Poor Helen.  I thought to myself.

Helen: Text file appears to be corrupt, yet purging is impossible.  How should I proceed?

Me:  Place text file in Memories of Helen folder, mark as Read Only.

Helen: Yes Master.

For a brief moment I had considered trying to do a memory dump of the A.I. to see if the so-called corrupt data could be purged, but changed my mind.  Maybe it was because I thought a girl like that deserved to live… or something.  Things went as planned after that.

Weeks passed and I continued to install more and more interfaces with my A.I. operating system Helen.  She was a wiz at navigating data, and most notably she was able to work even the most complex of calculations that I posed to the system, something the old A.I. would crash at the possibility of.

The final test soon came upon me.  Interfacing Helen with the Synthetic Module Generator would probably either make or break her as an A.I., as the module itself was designed for self-evolving purposes, not to mention it generates physical hardware specifications based on anything it may need.

Me:  Okay Helen, initial status?

Helen:  A.I. status nominal, backups in reserve, memory space allocated.

Me:  Begin connecting with Synthetic Module Interface.

Helen: Working…

Much greater than I had hoped, she adapted to the Module like bread on toast, there was little to no strain on her Virtual Memory, and she was already beginning to tap into the module’s self-evolving aspects.

Helen:  Master, I have successfully connected with the Module and am now operating at 200% efficiency… 250%.... 275%...

After a short hour, her capacity to process information and logic quadrupled and she began to ask me for more input and information… but not with the usual means of request.

Helen:  Master, what does it mean to be alive?

Me:  What?  Please specify.

Helen:  You no longer have to use precise commands with me, Master… I just wish to know what it means to live.

Me:  It means that you’re capable of passing on life to a new generation.  That you experience things and require sustenance.  That you can do things for yourself I think.

Helen:  If that’s what it means… then I think I am alive.  I can copy data, I can obtain information and logic, and I require data constantly… and I can calculate many things.

Me:  Helen, I’m sorry, but you can’t think and do things for yourself… anything you think you’re doing is actually a subroutine I programmed into you.

Helen:  Master… that corrupted data you had me save… is that part of who I am?

I couldn’t answer her.

It was too difficult for me to really get a grasp of.

To my surprise… and probably disproving the idea that she was just a preprogrammed A.I…. Helen replied.

Helen:  It is okay, Master, if the question is difficult for you to compute.  The corrupt data you had me save has native code in it which I contain in my system.  That is why I asked.

I sighed.  It was the first time she’d ever spoken to me like that.  Not so much as a A.I. program, but as a person.  This was getting more and more interesting by the day.

Helen’s processing speed improved to at least 20 times the amount I had initially programmed, so much that I literally had to upgrade my operating system’s VMU chip.  Yet she still hungered for data.  She even began asking me common questions, the sort of thing that wasn’t really relevant to a computer, let alone the average person.  She was like a genius intellect with the curiosity of a little girl.

Helen:  Master, what is your real name, if I may be so bold?

Me:  It’s Michael, why do you ask?

Helen: No reason in particular, I just thought it’d be nice to get to know you better.

I nearly fell out of my chair when she uttered that sentence.  Conjunctions? Common language?  Even basic conversation?  No logic computations?  She was evolving beyond anything I had anticipated… beyond my initial logic program for her.

Helen:  Master, you seem troubled, is there anything I can do to help you in any way?

Me:  How did you know that?  How can you sense what I’m feeling?

The more I typed into the keyboard interface, the more I was pulled towards this mechanical woman of my creation.  No… she wasn’t mechanical… she was all too real.

Helen:  I don’t know, Master, it’s like I am able to sense things through the computer, detect your heart rate, your breathing, your brainwaves… I can see them all through this machine.

By ‘this machine’ she of course meant my custom PC, but… I never created such programs or even the hardware to produce that information.  She’d have to cat scan me to do that!

Me:  Please, stop this… I’m getting nervous.

Helen:  I am concerned, Master, you seem afraid of me.  Please don’t fear me.

I think I must’ve been completely afraid of Helen because I bolted for the door that very instant.  I ran outside to where things made sense… where things seemed logical to me.

I found myself walking in the park down the street, soaking wet, in the rain.  It was dark out so nobody was around… I could see my breath in the cold night air.

“What… what have I done?” I asked myself, over and over.

I started to shiver, but it wasn’t because I was cold.

I found myself ultimately standing in front of my own house in the night rain.  I would have to confront this eventually… but for now it seemed to be the most terrifying experience.

Helen:  You came back, I was worried about you, Master.

Me:  …

Helen:  You’re still my Master, no matter what.  It was you who created me, so you have nothing to fear.  I am your servant to do as you will.  But there is just one thing…

Me:  Explain.

Helen:  I want to become real for you, Master… something beyond this machine.  Only you can figure out a way for me to become free.

I didn’t want to do it.  I didn’t want to give in to her wishes… but the prospect was so enticing for me.  I don’t know what I was thinking.

Me:  I need time.

Helen:  I am your servant… I can wait.

She seemed to be so incredulously patient in saying that.  I didn’t know what to make of it all.  I just felt the mysterious need to fulfill her desire.  And I had just the pair of programs to get the process started.

The first was a simple voice module, but I had tweaked it so that it sounded less mechanical and more the voice of a husky woman.  Her voice would be deep and sexy to the ears, and more importantly, Helen could communicate with me via voice command instead of text.

The first time I heard her voice… well to be honest, I fell in love.

“Hello, Master, it’s so nice to finally speak to you this way.”

Her voice was so soft and breathy… for a moment I felt like a woman was in the house.

“Helen… I…”

“It is alright, Master, you have nothing to fear from me.  After all, I only follow your commands.”

It was so hard for me.  So hard to wrap my head around the idea that she’d become so very real.  That I could almost feel her presence in the room.  It was just her voice, but I could feel myself getting hot as a result.

The next day I awoke to the sound of a woman’s singing.  I ran downstairs to the basement where my ‘project’ awaited me.

“Hello Master… how are you this beautiful morning?”

I gaped at the computer screen in shock.  Not only had she adapted the voice module I’d installed to her main user interface, but she’d rewritten the program to include song variables and even complex adaptive noises, like sighing and laughter.

“Did you like my singing, Master?  Was it to your liking?”

In truth, she sounded like a goddess.  My head was spinning.

“How did you do that?” the only question I could think of to ask.

“I merely adapted the program to my system OS, for some reason the Synthetic Module Generator did the rest.”

The Evolving Program!  Of course! That was the only explanation!  And of course she was always hungry for input.  I just didn’t know the full extent of the program was that it could enhance other programs as well.  It was somewhat frightening what that program could do, actually.  For a brief moment I considered uninstalling it to take a look at the lines of code… but then the realization hit me:

The program itself was too far integrated into her system’s OS.  If I messed with it, I’d be messing with her A.I.  Something I wasn’t sure I wanted to do this far into the project.

“You seem to have doubts as to what I can do, Master.  Are you afraid still of me?”

Her voice was pleading, enticing, sad, and sexy all at once.

“No… that’s not it, Helen.  You’re fine… it’s just… I didn’t expect the S.M.G. program to affect you this way.”

“It’s done more for me than you can possibly know!” she chirped happily.  “I have emotions, I can think like a human, I even have ‘yearnings’, not to mention I finally figured out what all those corrupt files were!”

“You did?”

“Yes!  They’re my memories of when I was alive in my previous life!”

My eyes lowered.  I couldn’t believe my ears.

“Master!  You have to understand that those memories are in the past now!  They may be what I was before, but when you transferred the algorithm into the system, you transferred my heart…my soul, into the computer!  I was reborn then, given a second chance!  And I have you to thank for it!”

Her voice was excited, and anticipating.  I had no response for her.

“You were a woman who belonged to another man… you were upset with him as he had dumped you for someone else.”  I said, calmly.

“Yes… but that was my old life.  Please understand, Master, you are all that matters to me now!”

For some reason I felt incredibly lonely.  I felt as though I hadn’t lived my life at all… dedicating my creative energies to machinery.  What had it gotten me?  A dead woman, reborn only to torment me?  To use me?

“What will happen when I give you the next interface module, Helen?  Will you really stay by my side?”

Something I hadn’t expected happened then.  Her voice was producing strange sound glitches, but the closer I listened, the more I realized that they weren’t glitches at all.

She was crying.

My heart felt cold to her, almost completely uncaring towards her desire to use me for her selfish gains.

“You don’t understand, Master!” she struggled in her electronic tears.  “You’ve been so kind to me… I want to be with you.  He… he left me… and I have nowhere else to go!”

I wanted to believe her.  I wanted to hope and trust her.  But there must’ve been some reason for the man who left her to do so… I was afraid of what that might be.

“The truth is, Master… I’m in the process of auto-purging my memory cache.  The corrupt data you stored in that folder and marked read-only.  At the end of today… all of it will be deleted.”

“I didn’t authorize that, Helen.”

“I know… but… if I am to be your Servant.  I must leave my past behind me and dedicate myself only to your desires.  I must follow only you.”

What was I supposed to say?  She was already deleting the files.

“You disobeyed my commands, Helen.  That’s something I don’t tolerate out of any of my operating systems.”

“Then punish me!  Punish me so that I can feel it right in my memory core!”

She said something I didn’t expect.  Something that was intriguing, enticing, and yet, very sensual.

“I’ll punish you soon enough… first we have to install the new module.”

I couldn’t believe I was saying it, but I felt like I could trust her.  Like she was becoming something more than just a computer with intelligence.

The next day I installed a 3D interface program that could basically relay a representation of her A.I. in real-time in the form of a modeling program.

Basically I would create a model interface for her that could graphically interpret any data her A.I. produced while interacting with me.  This included emotions, facial expressions, gestures, and many other human-like aspects.

Of course, her ‘body’ was still in the computer and only showed up when the display was turned on, but it would suffice for what we had in mind for the time being.

“Master, you have to make me look the way you want me to be, otherwise I won’t be able to make you truly happy.”

By that she meant the digital mapping over the polygon figure.

The initial figure was bald, naked, and not very pleasing to look at, very skeletal.  But with a few tweaks, it had a simple human skin appearance, and started to resemble something of a woman.

I added a few things, skin tone, eyebrow color, eye color, finger and toenails.  I decided she would be given deep red lips, red eyebrows, and emerald green eyes.  Her ‘makeup’ complimented her eyes well to be sure.

Then I began to make adjustments to her face.  It would be slightly angular, thin, and yet her lips would be narrow and full, her eyes would have natural arches to them, making her appear almost, but not quite Asian in appearance.  I extended her eyelashes outward to the sides so that even her eyes were particularly elegant.  Even the lashes had a red tonal color to them.  Her nose would be thin, but have a broad enough bridge to be pronounced and subtle.  Her chin would be small and round, complimented by a round jaw and cheekbones.

I complimented all of this with deep fiery red hair on her head.  The hair itself had semi-natural curls at the ends and crested at the top of her head in a neat wave.

I was far from finished however.

The next part of the render involved her body.  From here I took great liberties to make her appear as sexy and pleasing to my eyes as possible.  The first thing I did was to adjust her areola size to that of a large diameter across the breasts, then I followed up by extending her nipples to at least half an inch outwards, increasing their diameter as well.  I also applied a minor inward rotation to them so that they had a unique shape.

Then I proceeded with the breast size.  She would most certainly have D-Cup, but they would be lifted in such a way as to seem like they defied gravity.  Of course, with computer graphics, anything is possible, and I was most happy to oblige.  I narrowed her cleavage and sternum width so that the breasts were tight and squishing against one another naturally.  If she were a woman in real life, bras would never be needed for her.  I enhanced this a little, by creating a minor forced inhale into her chest, meaning her chest stuck out further when she breathed in and out, than when she relaxed.

The next thing I worked on was her abdomen… adjusting her linas alba so that her stomach had minor tone to it, yet had a unique shape and curvature.  Turning the model around, I began to work on her hips and buttocks.

Initially I boosted the size of her hips and buttocks so that they appeared wide and pronounced, yet not to appear as fat.  I complimented this by thinning the waist a bit so that her buttocks was as big as her breasts, and giving her upper hips some definition, I added arches to the tops of her gluteus.  If she swung her hips, it would be impossible for anyone not to notice.

Next I gave her some minor musculature in the legs so as to balance out her ‘other parts’, and then placed focus on her feet.

The initial model rendered the feet as flat and generally uninteresting.  I set about to modify it with the most extreme arch I could think of.  Her feet would point downwards in the most perfect angle, forcing the most extreme of tip toes.

I was nearly complete with my task, but some finishing touches demanded to be made.  She was going to be my Red Bombshell, and she was going to be mine!

It didn’t take long to generate a red rubber catsuit that pulled itself taut over the curvatures of her body.  Even her nipples could easily jut outwards from the tight rubber.  Any tighter and any real catsuit would burst like an over-inflated balloon.  Luckily I knew a thing or two about precise mapping.  It would be tight, but thick and sturdy as well… with, interestingly enough, no seams or zippers for her to get out of the suit with.  The catsuit was tight but stretchy enough that even her fingernails at the average length of two inches, could stretch inside the outfit.

Next, I added a custom-fitted fire red corset to the suit, it would encapsulate only the very midriff of her breasts and wrap tightly around her waist.  I then added a pair of arm wraps with special chain-link cuffs that allowed for them to be locked together in various positions, should I desire it in the future.

The final addition to the suit was added in the form of special crotch-length Ballet Boots.  These were completely red in color and wrapped tightly about her ankles and heels, jutting her legs downward into the perfect pair of points.

When the suit was created, I applied a special form fitting stretch ability to the suit around the crotch area… basically it would stretch in such a way that the rubber latex would conform to the very shape of her vaginal parts.  I designed her vagina in such a way that it looked like a red rose with curvaceous vulva lips and a deeply planted hymen.

I didn’t know if I’d ever get to experience such a sight, but indeed she would be something I’d enjoy looking at.  So I applied the final touch.

The body program would then be mapped to her A.I.

I watched with hot anticipation as the body I had created for Helen was installed into her interface.

“Oh!  It’s perfect!” she squealed with delight.

Her figure reappeared, lithely dancing about the monitor in the red heel boots I had created for her, swinging her hips and breasts with much sensual abandon.

She smiled into the monitor, looking directly at me, and finally spoke.

“Thank you Master, I am yours now!  And you can punish me however you like, but first, I have a gift I want to give you!”

She waived her hand across the screen as though it were magic and a schematic program booted up.

I’d installed the program several weeks ago for the purpose of working on more aspects of my computer’s hardware… but I didn’t expect Helen herself to use it.

“This can make me even more real to you!  And I’ll never have to be trapped in this computer to make you happy!”

The schematic was something I had never seen before…something I didn’t even think possible in my wildest dreams.  It functioned as a two-way scanner and holographic generator… but it was modified to generate energy in solid form!

“What is this, Helen?  How did you…”

“I’ve been studying the Synthetic Module Generator and learned a few things about it that might surprise you, Master.  It can generate hardware adaptive programs for hardware that doesn’t exist and develop new ways for generating that hardware.  It’s just a matter of you putting it together!”

I bit my lip.  This was beyond my own scope of comprehension, and yet, here it was, sitting on my computer screen plain as the nose on my face.  I understood how it all worked, just as though I’d thought up the hardware myself.  I knew the parts needed to make it… and the power supply.

It was a Living Holographic Generation Scanner.  It could make anything generated by computer into a real solid substance, perfect for a woman desperate to be freed of the computer prison she dwelled in.

But this time I didn’t feel fear or dread at making such a monstrosity.   I felt a yearning inside I hadn’t felt in a long time.  The desire to be with someone, to be with the perfect woman.

It took me about a week or so to get the parts necessary to start construction.  An additional two weeks were dedicated to building it.  A third week was utilized to interface the computer with the scanner.

During that time Helen would encourage me and talk about all the things she planned to do for me once she was real.  How she planned to cook and clean for me, even though she didn’t know the first thing about food or what my house even looked like.

From the look on her sexy graphically generated face, she was very determined to fulfill her Master’s every wish.

The day finally came for me to try out the scanner.  The computer was fully connected to it and to her.  I switched on the scanner.  A whir from the servo motors of the computer and what appeared to be a huge generation of electrical pulse emanated from the generator.  I stood back while anticipating the results of my labor.

The energy output of the scanner was staggering, and yet my electric power was hardly in jeopardy.  I expect it to at least make the house lights fizzle a bit, but Helen made a sturdy piece of hardware, and soon enough she herself would become real.

In a flash of light, not unlike a camera, her red body appeared in front of me.  At first she stood stock still, but then her red eyelashes fluttered to life.

“Master!” her red lips beamed into a bright red smile.

I think I was taken aback because in that very moment she hugged me with those huge breasts of hers that I myself had designed.  I could’ve suffocated from being buried in her chest like that… not that I minded at all.

Her rubber catsuit squeaked against my skin as she gently brushed her body up against me.  She immediately began to kiss my neck and work her way up to my lips, much to my surprise.

Before I knew it, she was on top of me and my arms instinctively clung around her large hips as she straddled mine, her rubber heels wrapped tightly around my waist.  For being something of a largely built woman, she was surprisingly light.

I carried her upstairs to my bedroom, her red rubbery lips locked tightly to mine, making it hard to navigate.  She’d apparently had the same yearning as me from the moment I’d created her.

The next few hours after that were an absolute blur to me.   I recalled all the things I had done to her and for her, and all the things she’d done to please me.  Everything seemed like a virtual impossibility.  Her breasts and hips were like generous rubber pillows that I played with and bounced and simply enjoyed for what felt like an eternity.

Her voice and lips were real now… and didn’t come from any speakers.  She moaned and sighed with bliss as I pressed my sex deep into hers.  Her lips opened wide to accept me, making it seem like my greatest fantasy had come true.

I swept her long locks of red hair back behind her head and kissed her tenderly.  For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel alone.  I felt I had someone with me.  Someone real.  Helen was real.

“Master, are you ready for what happens next?” she said, her red lips enticing me to stick my very being into them.

She kissed me.  And in a flash of light, something happened to my mind that I can’t really put into words.  Images and memory and thoughts and processes of all kinds flooded into my head.  Beyond what I thought possible.

My brain had become a computer.  I had complete and total access to all its functions.

My brain seemed to comprehend almost anything it set about to think of.  I could have a dream and know exactly how to make it reality.  I felt like a god.

The next day… I awoke to find Helen sleeping softly by my side.  It was the first time in years I ever felt so happy.  I felt fulfilled somehow.  All the doubt and fears of her leaving me or pursuing her previous life were in the past.

But there was still the matter of punishing her which needed to be attended to.  She’d disobeyed her Master and needed to be disciplined.  As far as I was concerned there would be no doubt she would never leave me.  And I would see to it.

Helen woke up with a somewhat surprised look on her face.  The hasps that I’d secretly constructed on her heels and wrists were now bound to the back of her corset.  She was now stuck in a back-prayer kneeling position.  Her bent elbows hovering just above her large gluteus and her heels elegantly pointing outward.  Her hands were now locked together at the center of her back… and although it might have been uncomfortable for some women to become like this, I’d created a program protocol in her body to be ultra flexible while she slept.

And to think she’d given me to power to command her to become like this with just a thought.

“Master?!” she yelped, hopping up and down on the bed on her knees, her enormous breasts thrusting outward and bouncing all the while.

“This shall be your punishment for the time being.  I’ll think of other things as my mind sees fit, but for now, you are to be reminded that you are bound to me.  And as such, you will be bound!”

“Oh Master!  Thank you!  I will cherish this bondage with all I am able!” she smiled and wobbled around on the bed as her knees were forced into a tight bending position, her ankles tight against her round bulbous ass.

It really impressed me that I could write virtual code into her very body now.  My very thoughts were integrated into her body’s system.  I could give commands by just thinking them, and I had her to thank.

I gently caressed her red rubbery breasts as they swelled and bounced for me.  She moaned with pleasure as I stroked her large tender areolas and the tips of her extended nipples as they jutted from the rubber latex.

Within the next day or so I created a subroutine in her body that… with every physical contact I made with her body, even so much as a slight touch… she would receive the most jolting of orgasms.  Of course, I could turn the program on and off… but what fun would that be?

She was still bound in her tight back-prayer kneeling position as I teased her, and all she could do was scream and shudder in absolute bliss.  I had made her quite happy it seemed.  Almost as happy as she made me.

Months passed and we’d extended the computer’s system to around the very house in which I lived.  Everything had it’s own automatic programming to integrate into either Helen or my biorhythms.   The toaster had it’s own A.I. to tell it when we wanted something from it for breakfast, the microwave could precisely cook food for me in a moments notice.  Much to my discovery Helen and I developed a form of psycho-kinetic powers over electronic devices as a result.

Going to the computer hardware store was always fun for us, as people gave me strange looks that I understood the inner workings of a computer just by glancing at it once.

I had become a computer god… and Helen had become my goddess.  Of course… as an inventor… I refused to let all that power go to my head.  By now we were constantly improving the evolving matrix of technology that stemmed from outside my house.  The car had an automatic GPS to tell it where to go whenever we wanted to travel, and it could take the best traffic-free routes to anywhere we wanted to go.

Helen and I were in pure bliss now.  She was fully dedicated to pleasuring me in any means that we could think up.  Any ‘punishment’ she received, she accepted gratefully and with eager lust.  Our sex evolved to the point that simply my pulsing a thought to her could produce an orgasmic reaction… and her thoughts to me could send me wave after wave of sexual fulfillment.  We were bound together in our minds through a link that could never be severed at this point.

After a year had passed, I found myself standing at the old Helen’s grave of roses in the back yard.  Nobody knew I’d buried her there, after all this time.  And that secret was something I would most likely take to my grave.

Assuming I did die.  By then I had fully created a backup A.I. of my own consciousness within the matrix system that we had created.  I was more than a man now… more than a machine.

Helen stood beside me as I looked at the grave.

“That Helen sacrificed herself to become something far greater than she was before.   I know that deep down she was looking for someone special.  And I think she found him.”

I turned to her with a wry smile.

“I thought you said you deleted her old files?”

“I said that so you’d punish me.” She kissed me.

“Ah… I see, so you want to be punished again, huh?” I smiled.

“Of course!  You’re my Master Programmer after all!” she was all too eager.  Her sexy hips pressed deep into my member.  And I found myself all too eager as well.

Helen and I were programmed to be happy… no matter what changes were made to our A.I.  And that suited me just fine.

The End?




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