by Frank Martinet
I was fourteen days out of Base IX on a two-month return to Earth when I found him. I'd become incredibly restless. I had made four consecutive runs without a real break and the boredom was catching up with me.
I wandered the ship looking for entertainment. The trivid recordings no longer interested me, and I did not feel like reading. I wanted human companionship, particularly the male kind. I wanted to feel sexy and desired and to desire.
There were reports to file and lectures to study, but I felt exhausted and everything seemed old and the ship felt cramped and minuscule. I would take as much time as I could with my chores, but even then I would have 95% of the day left.
But on this day I decided to check the cargo. There was nothing wrong and I knew it, but I decided a personal inspection was necessary, just because it would give me something to do.
The first two crates contained standard supplies and research data discs. But the third container was different. I immediately saw the coffin-shaped box with the red warning sticker attached. Ignoring it, I peered inside the box.
At first I was horrified - someone was shipping a dead body! But then I realized it was only an android. There was a packing slip in the box and I pulled it out and read it.
'Sexual Deviant Model IV' read the paper. 'Serial number RT-89. Reason for return: Malfunctioning deviant programs 'SM01' and 'BNDG' in motivation in excess of established parameters.'
I didn't know what any of that meant, but I decided to try out the robot. Even malfunctioning, a sex deviant robot might be amusing.
I opened the carton and rolled the robot out. Its access panel was standard, and in a moment it was awake. I watched it open its eyes.
"This is not earth," he said in a deep male voice that thrilled me. "I sense rocket engines and minimal gravity. Why have I been awakened?"
"I awoke you," I said calmly. "We're still six weeks from earth. Are you functioning well enough to, uh, perform your duties?" I blushed as I said this. I had never used a sex robot before, though of course I had heard stories. I was amazed at how life-like he looked.
"I am functioning adequately," he said smiling at me seductively. "My name is Art Eighty-Nine. What is your name?"
"Kari," I said shyly. "What exactly do you do?"
He smiled at me without saying anything for a moment. "Can I take a tour of the ship?" he asked quietly. I agreed and quickly led him through all the rooms. It wasn't much of a tour. A T-class ship, the Candlelady isn't very large.
Art Eighty-Nine was very nice, but he seemed particularly interested in the kitchen implements and my spare parts and tools bin. He was also extremely sexy, I thought as we headed into my cabin area.
Suddenly, without warning, he grabbed my wrists and lifted me. With amazing speed he produced some nylon cord he had discovered somewhere and making me grasp the bulkhead, tied my wrists together, my feet dangling above the ground.
"What are you doing?" I cried. But he slipped a piece of cloth against my mouth and bound it tightly around my head. I was now bound and gagged and completely helpless. I was frightened, but Art was smiling.
I watched him approach me, my eyes wide with apprehension. He placed one hand on my right breast and with the other grabbed my ass. I was wearing the flight standard unisex one-piece, a flimsy disposable outfit that offered little protection. Before I could protest or struggle he had ripped it off me with such force my body felt like it had been slapped.
I was completely naked, dangling off the floor, my arms fastened above my head. I began to cry in fear but Art reached out and lifted my chin so I could see his face. He smiled and was friendly.
"Do not cry, little Kari," he said, his voice kind and soothing. "You have a very beautiful body. Very sensual. Look at these gorgeous breasts! They are magnificent," he whispered in my ear as he bent close to me, his hands grasping my breasts and squeezing them intensely.
I felt myself weaken and my sex was wet with desire. I could smell him, and he smelled like a man. I suddenly didn't care if he was a robot or not: I wanted him, l craved him, I lusted after him.
In shame I found myself thrusting my sex against him, wrapping my legs around his waist to hold him against me. I kissed his lips with passionate abandon, discovering his teeth and tongue were indistinguishable from a real man's.
"Oh, you are so very pretty," he said. "Your eyes are so large and wide. I love your legs." He ran his hands up and down my legs and around to my buttocks. "Hold it!" He pulled away from me so suddenly I was left kissing air.
He stepped behind me as I hung there and I could feel him looking at my butt. "Your buttocks are amazing!" he said with awe in voice. "I've never seen such round, firm specimens." He reached out and I could feel his palms caressing my ass. He pinched the flesh and massaged it, and I moaned and pressed my legs together feeling spurts of liquid dripping down my legs.
"Please," I begged. "Take me, please. I can't stand this. I need you. Don't tease me like this."
"Oh, but you aren't ready," he said with warmth in his voice. "Look at your bottom, here. It's so fresh and tender I'd almost swear you're a virgin. When was your last spanking?"
Suddenly a chill passed through me and I knew what kind of a robot he was. "Uh, quite a while. Look, I'm not into that scene. I don't get into kinky stuff, OK? Can't we just have sex?"
But Art was still playing with my buttocks, pulling the cheeks apart and touching my anus. I felt tears pouring down my face. "Please, don't do that," I begged, but he did not listen.
Then I felt his wet tongue touch my anus. He licked at it and I felt intense spasms of electricity go through me. My sex was dripping wet like I'd never felt it before. It was so hungry it hurt with a physical pain. I was sobbing as I felt steel fingers prying my legs open and poking my sex from behind.
"Excellent," he said standing. "You are in excellent physical health, Kari. Your body is primed and ready for sexual activity. I've never seen such pent-up passion. Please wait. I'll just be a moment."
He was gone and I dangled and felt sorry for myself. My nipples hurt, my buttocks felt heavy, and my dripping sex was ticklish and driving me crazy. I wondered what he was going to do.
He was back. I saw him out of the corner of my eye place several items on my bed but I couldn't see what they were. He approached and he was carrying something.
I saw it was a small strip of synth-leather, flat but thick. He smacked it against his palm as he watched me. I was terrified and shrank from him but he only smiled. "Let me see your incredible buttocks," he said and I began to cry.
I felt him touch my bottom and squeeze it a few times. He patted me a few times gently and then I felt the first slap of the synth-leather strap. It was very loud. The sound frightened me so much I cried out.
But it didn't really hurt, at least not as much as I had imagined. In fact, it felt rather good. It was a light sting on my bottom and it made me very aware of the flesh of my buttocks. I felt sexy.
The second slap hurt more, but it excited me. I was frightened but turned on. Art spanked me with that strap again and again, not especially hard, but soundly, spreading the blows so that my whole bottom felt covered with tiny stings. My eyes were filled with tears but it wasn't because I was suffering pain, but because I was flooded with foreign emotions and remarkable sensations.
From somewhere Art obtained a small hand mirror which he positioned so I could see my bottom in the reflection of the full-length mirror on the back of the cabin door. I was amazed. I was hanging from the ceiling, completely naked, my body exposed. My breasts felt large and hung heavily against my chest. I could see my open sex in the mirror and it made me clench my legs together to try to obtain satisfaction.
But most astonishing were my buttocks. They were very red, especially the middle area. They felt like they were swollen to double size, but I could see that wasn't the case. What surprised me was how beautiful they looked. I had thought the spanking would have made them less attractive, but the redness seemed to enhance them. The punished flesh looked flushed and alive, pulsing like a sexual organ.
I wept beautiful tears, tears of joy and sadness. I was filled with emotions I didn't understand and my ignored sex was throbbing. My buttocks felt hot and swollen but I found myself strangely pleased when Art began to spank me again, this time with fiercer blows that brought tears to my eyes and made me groan and wiggle on my tether.
The pain was intense, now, but I thrived on it. I abandoned myself to it. I felt every cruel spank, every sting, with every part of my body. The flesh of my buttocks felt heavy and thick under the blows, but the pain seemed to radiate from there and go through my entire body, warming my legs and face and causing my nipples to itch and tremble.
The second spanking was much longer and harder, and I was sobbing when it was finished. I had never felt so many sensations of such intensity. The pain had changed to become a simple feeling now. I would dwell on it, savor it like a sweet taste on the tongue, try to decipher its meaning, its purpose, its destiny. I tried to discover the source of its amazing power, power that rendered me helpless before it, a quivering mass of flesh and feeling.
When Art paused to feel my bottom I could tell my buttocks were covered with tiny welts, little kernels of intense feeling which he would pinch mercilessly. I wriggled under his fingers and pumped my sex vainly in the air, cursing that there was no satisfaction for it.
He touched it now, pushing his fingers deep into me, and I thrust myself on him. As I did so I felt terrible slap across my buttocks and I realized he was spanking me fiercely with his hand. His blows were loud and astonishingly hard, taking away my breath with each spank.
But I was lost to the spanking. All I could think about was satisfying my sex, thrusting myself mindlessly against his hand, his fingers not quite satisfying me and driving me to a wild panic.
The spanking was brutal now, but I only dimly realized the intense pain flooding through my body. I was frantic with desire as I came against Art's hand, my arms aching, my breasts pounding against my chest.
When I was finished Art left the room and I hung there, exhausted. I'd never had sex like that before. Never anything even close. As I thought back I realized that I had come for an incredibly long time. My buttocks still throbbed from the beating, but they felt warm and good to me, a reminder of my intense pleasure.
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