In Robot Bondage
Aliya stopped the car a few yards from the front gate of the bot factory. For a few seconds, she stared at her reflection in the rear-view mirror, reminding herself that although her plan was dangerous, it ought to count for something. It should.
She stepped out of the car quietly, bent her head, and began to tiptoe towards the back of the factory. She obviously can’t get into the compound through the front gate. Although it was late in the night and hardly would anyone be walking around in the factory, but she wasn’t going to take any chances. She had made up her mind to do this nearly an hour ago, and now that she was here, taking chances wasn’t going to be the reason she would be caught.
The truth was that she hated the bot factory. She detest bots, and she resented the rich people who continue to invest huge capital in mass production of bots over the past years instead of spending on beautiful women like her. The first bot, she had to admit, was a very harmless human-like robot that had been created ten years ago to assist people with house chores. Virtually everyone on the planet wanted one. But bot factories, especially the one she was trying to get into, didn’t stop with producing just house-chore-helping bots. Over the years, they had created more enhanced bots to serve as employees in companies, take the roles of nurses and doctors and finally, serve as dedicated lovers to people who desired love and companionship.
Creating love bots had stormed the world. A lot of people were initially skeptical about loving something which is not human, but the bot factories had proved them wrong in less than two months people who tested them were smitten. The bots were almost too perfect. They cared for the volunteers exactly the way they were instructed. The bots showed compassion the way a human would and so much more. It was their unconditional love that really set them a part. They would never cheat, get jealous, or nag about choirs. They accept their lover's flaws with no shallow judgement of their hobbies, friends, or appearances. They don't get old and often embrace their partner's fantasy with contagious enthusiasm. Many of the volunteers after the experiment abandon their spouses to run off with their new robotic partners.
Then, everything had changed afterward. The media called the love bots the cocaine or bane of human relationships. Aliya witness many protests and attempts for people to ban the love bots, which ironically led to more people to become more curious. Production and purchases went through the roof world-wide with more tantalizing models to meet the demand.
Someone had to do something and put stop to this!
Aliya gave a scornful glare at the local robot factory. With everybody distracted by their love bots. The self automated factories had gotten complacent over the past years, so they rarely placed cameras or security around their buildings. Who would steal from or attack the people who gave them machines that genuinely loved and cared for them – that was their poor mentality.
It made it easy for her to hop over the fence without getting caught anyway. On the ground within the compound, Aliya tiptoed towards the biggest building she could see past the open shipping docks. She came across the largest assembly line of bots imaginable.
“The artificial monstrosity!” she muttered under her breath.
The bots looked like humans in a queue. The only difference was that these bots were inactive or dressed up in exotic clothing to suit custom orders. Soon they will be shipped to millions of crazy people who wanted bots to care for them, where there were still normal humans like her who craved for human intimacy…who still dreamt of men lining up on dating apps to take her out to dinner, spend money on her shopping or even tell her how much her pictures drove them nuts. She simply wanted life to be back to normal, where she could have her occasional sugar daddy and derive as much wealth and pleasure as she wanted.
Without wasting more time, Aliya stared around her, looking for a weapon. If she would gladly blow up the factory if she could. But for now a stray wrench on the factory floor will do.
She didn’t think twice about destroying the bots with the wrench. She crushed their bodies one after the other and kicked their parts out of the way as soon as they dropped to the floor. Elated, she picked up the detached head of a bot and used it to crush three more heads out of their bodies.
“Assembly line out-of-order. Proceeding to rearrange. Rearranging.”
Repair drones swarm the assembly lines before Aliya could realise it. She turn around in awe as the drones flew around her, picking up pieces of the bots she had crushed and attempting to put them back together.
“Rearrangement failed,” metallic voiced hummed from the drones. “Proceeding to recycle.”
Aliya didn’t know what to do. But stubbornly refuse to relinquish the bot's head in her hand so it couldn't receive any repairs. She glanced anxiously around her and froze as soon as three drones suddenly turned to face her. “Proceeding to recycle!” they buzzed again.
“No, get away from me! Get away from me!” she yelled, trying to hit the drones with the mangled bot part like a cub as they encircled her.
The drones easily dodged her blows and cornered her into a moving conveyor belt. It quickly sweep her towards a grinder to be recycled.
“No, no!” Aliya struggled to free herself and crawl away from the moving blades. She could hear the bot parts getting obliterated and spinning blades getting closer and closer. “I am not a fucking bot!” she yelled. “Let me go! Fucking let me…oh, my God!”
Do something, Aliya. Save yourself!
Aliya stripped everything on her and desperately toss them into the grinder. She yanked her designer dress, panties, bra, shoes, and jewelry into the despicable machine. Then, she closed her eyes and hoped for the best as the machine began to smoke and screech to a halt.
“Error. Error. Recycling jammed. Recycling jammed. Proceeding to cybernetics reprocessing.”
Aliya opened her eyes to the relief at the sight of the decommissioned grinder tangled in her clothing. But couldn't help but whine a little at lost of her expensive garments. Someone owns me new outfit!
“Hey, Let me go!” she screamed.
Her eyes went wide in fear as a large drone quickly dumped her into a cybernetic chamber and began to probe her body with their sticky arms. She tried to kick free only for her ankles to become locked into place and fitted into a heavy pair of metallic high heels. Aliya had barely any time to wiggle her toes in her cute shackles as sheets of plating were laser cut and fitted around her slender curved legs tightly.
“Reprocessing,” the drones around her buzzed. “Reassembling body parts of subject.” To Aliya's horror all the bots she broke were now being used as fodder to be perfectly mold her limbs. Every inch of her body felt it was being modified from the inside out and enhanced to match some sort of ideal beauty just like all the robot ads she seen and despised. Her eyes became dizzy trying to keep up with the flurry of mechanical arms tending to each seam on her body with welding. Aliya moaned in protest at the machine's efficiency as her posture straighten into a stiff voluptuous hourglass figure.
Move, Aliya. Move! Aliya screamed at the top of her voice in her head, but the assembling mechanical arms didn’t stop. At first, there was discomfort coursing through her flesh and muscles as the drones squeezed her breasts, shoulders, and arms and then proceeded down to probe her knees, thighs, and clit. With each part assembled on her, she felt less pain and less control over her mind. Her cold mechanical body started to have the urgency to serve and relish the warmth and intimacy of a human being.
The simple protocol and anticipation caused her lubrication reservoir to fill and servo in between her legs to widen and twitch. Soon there would be nothing original of her left. It dawns on her she’s becoming what she despised. A disposable object like all she dated and used. An obedient love bot doomed to please others. Aliya's mechanical heart pounded in her chest as her last thoughts were bombarded with volumes of courtship, cheesy romance novels, and kinky kamasutra. For the first time the new love bot's eyes glowed with delight and smiled for what was to cum.
The drones did their job dutifully, rebuilding Aliya from the ground up, piece by piece. By the time the last part was put into place, Aliya had become an obedient love bot. Her mind had been reprogrammed to give pleasure to those who wanted her. Her body was endowed in a short latex red dress with gold trimming, black blazer jacket, and restrictive high heels for those long steamy nights.
She was perfect, and will help put an end to obsolete ways of human courtship. The next morning, the bot factory announced a new limited edition love bot which sold out instantly. The previous night's break in was cleaned up as if nothing happened and doors left unlocked for next expected guest to arrive. A drone is seen polishing it's welcoming sign. “All is fair in love and war.”