Chapter 3
"Frank," Cyndi
said several days later. It took me a little while to train Cyndi
when it was proper to use my first name, and when it was proper
to use my full name. She took her cues from the setting and how
other people addressed me. At least she wouldn't be using my full
name like my mom does to this day - in anger only. Cyndi was incapable
of anger.
"Frank," she
said over breakfast, "I need something more exotic to wear
to bed so I can excite you more."
I caught the subtlety
here. "I need." Cyndi actually needs nothing more than
food (to synthesize repair materials and to power various actuators)
and shelter (although she is rated operational over a wide range
of temperatures, she can still be burned or have joints freeze).
So when she said "need" she meant "I have a request
that will increase my functionality to you." Which is pretty
much the way she phrased things during the first week of ownership.
"Sure doll,"
I said in return. Cyndi also became accustomed to a couple of pet
names, but had to be informed initially that they applied to her.
The first time I called her "doll' she asked, "Who is
doll? A doll is a child's toy?" With a vocabulary that's 10
times larger than mine, you think they would have programmed in
some more alternative meanings. However, she was getting better
at interpreting things from their use in context. I guess I have
to cut her some slack; after all, she is only 8 months old.
"Sure doll, what
is it you need?"
"I would like to
get some nice silky stuff for you. I've been browsing some catalogues
and I think I came across some things you would like to see me in."
"I bet," I
laughed. "Oh what the heck. I have the money. This should be
an interesting experiment. I tell you what. I'll set you up an account,
and you can shop to your heart's content."
Cyndi ran up to me, threw
her arms around my neck, and pressed her body against mine. We exchanged
a kiss. "Thank you honey," she whispered back, "I
won't disappoint you."
"One more thing,"
she cooed, "I'll need some place to store my outfits."
"I guess that's
fair. I can't expect you to live off the few hangers in my closet
for the rest of your life. Clean out the other closet and it's yours.
In the meantime, I think I will wear the gray suit with the light
blue shirt." At least I taught her what clothing combinations
I like to wear. No fashion module here. I decided I'd like to train
her to my unique tastes.
I got out of the shower
and found the suit and the rest of my clothing waiting for me neatly
on the bed.
I gave Cyndi a peck on
the cheek as I went out the door. It just seemed like the thing
to do. Technically speaking, I could have kissed the door jam just
as well.
Cyndi kept track of my
whereabouts using the transponder function on my communicator. She
knew that when I reached a certain intersection, I would be so many
minutes from home and would start preparations for my arrival. She
would meet me at the door with a drink in hand, take my coat and
usher me to the entertainment room. Dinner would be ready several
minutes later.
Tonight's dinner was
very nice, though predictable. Now that the sex module is in the
cooking module is most definitely the next module!
She asked me about my
day, and listened intently to what I had to say. At least she did
a very good job looking like she was listening intently. Of course
she could play back the conversation word for word if she wanted.
Her memory was also about 10 times better than mine. Forgetting
90% of what one hears is typically human, but not for Cyndi. I was
certainly glad that we don't fight when I came to this realization.
"So how was your
day?" I finally asked. It's nice to listen and not do all the
talking. "Did you get the stuff you ordered?"
"Yes, I did,"
she smiled back.
"What did you get?"
"I'd rather surprise
you. You like surprises, don't you?" she giggled.
She was right. All that
paperwork I filled out at the Stockroom, really revealed my most
inner workings to her. That made me vulnerable, but it also meant
that she "instinctively" knew what pleased me.
Bedtime was very pleasing
as she came out in a sheer teddy to give me my nightly massage.
She was getting very good at massaging. She knew how to relax every
muscle but one. That one was hard and rigid. Tonight however, I
was falling fast asleep.
When I awoke things were
entirely different. Cyndi was now dressed in a black leather corset,
had black lace crotchless panties, and leg length leather boots.
"What's this?"
I said trying to get up and failing because of the bonds. I was
tied spread-eagled on the bed.
"What are you doing
Cyndi?"
"You told me to
clean out your closet, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"Well, I found these
in there," she said, holding up my BDSM magazine collection.
"I read them all," (Yes, she also reads 10 times faster
than me too.) "paying particular attention to the most read
articles, and those - how do I say this - soiled pages. I've made
a self consistent relationship of the whole, and it seems to fit
your personality."
"What are you talking
about?" I asked.
"Just this, you've
been a bad little boy, and you need to be punished."
The husky tone of her
voice excited me. There I was, bound and naked, and my penis already
reaching for the sky in a sign of surrender.
Her heels clicked on
the hardwood floor as she made her way across the room and retrieved
an antique chair from the corner. She easily lifted it and placed
it on the carpet at the foot of the bed. The sight of this demure
figure moving that heavy object was incongruous. I know that it
would be a fair fight between me and the chair with the chair possibly
coming out on top.
"Frankie,"
I was startled. I never told her to call me "Frankie"
yet she was able to conjure up a diminutive form for my name.
"Frankie,"
she said, "you are getting too lazy. I see the way you lay
around the house all day. Since I've been here it's been nothing
but increasing sloth. You are too young for such habits. You need
to get out and work out more and I am here to see that you do."
I looked back at her.
How did she put that logic together?
She laughed and tossed
her head back, "You know I'm right, Frankie, so don't try to
deny it."
I stared back.
"Answer me, BOY"
she said, raising her voice to me for the first time.
I gulped a meek, "yes."
"My hearing is very
good, but I don't think I heard that. Say it again."
"Yes."
"Again, louder!"
"YES!"
"That's better.
I considered making you call me mistress like the women in the magazines
do with their charges, but I decided against it. Do you want to
know why?"
I nodded.
"It's because you
already know that I am superior to you. I am smarter, stronger,
faster, and I never, never make a mistake."
She continued, "You
need to grow up. You are immature, and you need to be motivated
properly. The best punishment for little boys like you is a good
old fashioned spanking. Don't you agree?"
I was afraid not to agree.
"Yes," is what I said.
"Good, then let's
get on with it." She gave some sort of silent signals and my
bonds unlocked. "Come here and get over my lap," she said,
emphasizing the command by pointing to her lap.
She guided me over her
left leg, and then raised her right leg over mine pinning me into
position. Although her grip was gentle it was unyielding.
"Now Frankie, tell
Cyndi why you are a bad boy."
I was startled again.
She could actually refer to herself in the third person.
"I am a bad because
I am lazy." I said.
"And what do you
promise to do?" she asked.
I was stumped, "I
promise not to be lazy," I said uncertainly.
"Not good enough,
Frankie. You'll have to do better than that."
"I, err, promise
to get out of the house and work out more?"
"Better, but let's
say you promise to get out of the house at 6 AM three times a week
to work out for at least an hour."
I looked back over my
shoulder at her and she glared back at me. She made me repeat the
promise specifically.
"And now for your
spanking."
She expertly paddled
each of my cheeks causing them to sting and me to sing in temporary
pain. Every now and then she'd stop and place her hand first on
one cheek and then on the other. In a distant corner of my mind,
I wondered if she was taking some kind of a measurement.
At last it was over and
I felt like a thousand ants were swarming over my butt.
She lifted her leg off
of me and said, "Get up and stand in the corner with your hands
on your head and think about what you promised to do. I will not
be as lenient if you fail to live up to your promise."
I really had no idea
how long I in the corner, but I soon heard a cheerful sound at the
door, "Honey, dinner will be ready in about 15 minutes. Why
don't you take a shower and get ready."
I sat down on a prickly
behind, and it actually felt quite stimulating. The warmth of the
spanking was having an erotic effect both back and front. I felt
a little like an admonished schoolboy, and was embarrassed to bring
up the question, but my curiosity overcame my shame.
"Cyndi, where did
you learn how to spank like that?"
She giggled, "Silly,
it was programmed into me."
"You mean?"
I left the question unfinished.
Nonetheless she got my
drift. "Yes, the questionnaire and the sexual response readings
were quite clear. You are a boy in need of discipline, and appreciate
female rule. There is some overlap in my programming with a 'mommy'
module. I will see to it that you will be well taken care of, but
I will not allow you to slide into bad habits."
"But how is it that
you can hurt me?"
"Were you really
hurt? Physically, you are sound and the pain should already be going
away. Do you want me to check?"
I laughed, "No,
I'll take your word for it."
"The most pain was
to your ego. It, too, will recover."
"Why did you do
it for so long?" I asked.
"Because you didn't
tell me to stop. You liked what I was doing to you. You didn't want
me to stop."
She was right.
"But don't get complacent,"
she warned, "There's a lot more female domination in my modules
that you haven't even begun to see," she said softly as she
served me my after dinner coffee.
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