Human Android Ch. 08

Chapter 08

The professor becomes a giggly bimbo

Anne was well and truly in trouble. She was a successful career woman, a professor in a prodigious university and head of a department, yet she had found herself in a stupid situation. A young man, Richard, was determined to take revenge on her, after she had expelled his sister from the university.

It all started when playing games in the bedroom, with her husband, using a brain implant to enhance the naughty roles he liked. When it was switched on she could just give into the rules it set up in her mind, playing at being his maid, a slut, a sex-droid, and many other sexy roles.

It was partly her fault, together with accidental circumstances, that led to the implant being activated for too long. She had been warned by the surgeon not to use the implant for more than an hour at a time, yet inadvertently it had been switched on for many hours, during the last few days. Even with it switched off, she was now compulsively playing the games, compelled to perform the naughty roles, however hard she tried to avoid them.

Richard found out she was controlled by an implant and told her to obey him. She had responded by telling him she was his sexy maid, and worst of all, she would be pleased to fulfill his every wish. Anne cringed in an agony of humiliation, from having to recite such demeaning words to this young man. He was a complete stranger, yet it seemed she was duty-bound to obey him, while playing out the demeaning role of a sexy maid.

He had already told her he was going to make her pay, for the hurt she caused to his sister, and this helplessness was playing right into his hands. When he was finished degrading her, she would be returned to Uncle John, and he had already used her in a far more demeaning way, than this young man could ever imagine.

"A maid? That sounds good. The important professor reduced to being a humble maid. You can start the punishment for what you did to Jean by cleaning up her room. Let's see how clever you are now, professor maid," Richard sneered.

"Yes, sir," she replied. This wasn't what she expected, so maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all. After the dire humiliations of the last few days, this would be easy to cope with. He was only just eighteen, a year younger than his sister, so maybe he was sexually inexperienced.

"Don't get those clothes dirty or John will find out what you've been doing here. Change out of those slutty clothes and I'll get you something more appropriate to your lowly role, maid," he said, relishing the idea of ordering around an older woman, as his maid.

Richard came back to Jean's room, with an old shapeless overall his mother used, and just stood in the doorway, gaping at her. So overtaken with the role of a sexy maid, Anne had stripped off, ready for a new outfit. She stood completely naked, waiting for him, with her clothes neatly folded on a chair.

"Damn! Those tits are big!" he gasped. "You've shaved down there too," he added. He had meant for her to wait while he fetched the overall. This was a pleasant surprise and showed how much she was under the influence of the role as a sexy maid.

Anne felt belittled from this honest expression of amazement. The imbedded game play had her responding to it before she had a chance to resist. She looked toward him with lowered eyes, unable to look him in the eye, not just acting but feeling like his humble, sexy little maid.

"Maybe you don't need this after all. You can always take a shower afterwards, if you get dirty. Though it looks as though it'll take more than a shower to wash off the look of a dirty bitch on heat," he scolded her.

He had started out being mean to her, as a way of punishing her, but the tone of voice was changing. He sounded husky, and looking down, she could see he was responding to her naked body. At least in this role she was passive. As a slut, she would be actively seeking his cock.

"Get on with it then," Richard ordered.

"Yes, sir, thank you sir," Anne responded. It was awful, to be replying so pathetically to this young man. The order to clean up the room, and his domineering attitude, all worked toward pushing her deeper into the humble role. She couldn't avoid bending over the bed to straighten it, and picking up dirty dishes from the floor.

If she could have bent in a more subtle way, it would have helped preserve her dignity. The game rules had her bending over before him, in a straight leg bend, with them parted. The rules were well and truly planted in her head, forcing her to be his sexy maid, showing off her sex to him.

It wouldn't have been so bad wearing a sexy costume, for at least her sex would have been covered. While naked, it was terribly humiliating, and that was turning her on. He was casually leaning against the door frame, unsubtly staring at her every move. She could feel his eyes roving between her legs. Even he would be able to understand the effect this was having upon her.

Bent over a low coffee table, she scrubbed at the marks left by abandoned slices of pizza. Her breasts jiggled under her, and she couldn't help wiggling her bottom at him. She knew he would be able to see her glistening sex, opening up, ready for him to make use of.

That was a terrible thought! It was humbling to even think like that, but she had to acknowledge the fact, her body was ready and awaiting his use. The sexual tension was growing by the minute. She was almost regretting not being his slut. At least then she could tease and cajole him into taking her. Just waiting for him to make the inevitable move was agonizing.

All she could think of was taking this young strangers cock, with all her inhibitions liberated, abolished by the deeply imbedded rules of the game. Her mind was flooded with arousal, as much as her pussy was sopping with sex juices. She couldn't help moving her body around the room, exposing her sex, in the most indelicate provocation, taunting him, wanting him.

"No wonder you were dressed like a slut, you are a slut," Richard commented, with a derisory smile. "It's difficult to imagine you as an important professor at that university," he told her.

For a short moment Anne cringed from the implications of those dreadful words; he had called her a slut. She was a university professor, yet he had just invoked a damnable game role that was impossible to defy. She was so worked up already, there was no way to resist or even beg for release. There was only one form of release she wanted now.

She turned her head toward him looking over her shoulder, giving him a sultry look, with hooded eyes and pouting lips. "Yes! I'm a slut, your slut," Anne replied in a whispery voice, soaked in sexual desire.

She felt his presence, close behind her, and automatically bent over the bed, raising her ass to him. "Please, no, you mustn't," she whispered. "I'm not a, not a, I'm a slut," she whimpered.

She felt his cock tap her bottom, and Anne moaned a long painful sound. "I'm just a slut on heat, take me," she said, trying to suppress the words, yet releasing them through gritted teeth.

She felt his cock maneuvering between her cheeks, inexpertly trying to find her sex. The red hot cock seemed to burn over her lips as it stroked them. The hardness she wanted just skimmed over the wet lips, sawing back and forth, as though teasing her.

She wriggled her bottom, trying to maneuver him into place, but their timing was wrong. He was too inexperienced to just force is way in, and the tentative stabs at her wet hole, were frustratingly missing the target.

"Please, sir, please fuck me. Your slut needs a cock. You're slut needs filling, please fuck me, now!" Anne demanded. She heard the words, as though they were from someone else, someone so very depraved. How could she say such dreadful things?

At last he grabbed a hold of her hips, held her still, and thrust in. Animal lust engulfed her. She lifted her head and cried out. "Yes! Oh! Yes, thank you, sir," she cried out. She pushed back, strongly engulfing his hard cock, gripping it with strong muscles.

"I'm a good slut, a well taught slut. Fill your slut with cum, please, sir," Anne begged. A small part of her mind remembered who she was, adding to the humiliation. The rules of the game thoroughly gripped her mind, letting her play out the role of a slut, to a well practiced perfection.

He gripped her hips tight and thrust in, working on her with solid, strong, thumps of his hips against her soft cheeks. His youthful energy kept him working on her vagina, with vigorous strokes. He held her still, making her accept his rhythm, as though he were just using her hole for his sexual pleasure.

"Use your slut, fuck your slut!" she yelled, with a wild abandon, shaking her head from side to side.

She became silent as an orgasm crept upon her. Her head rocked up and down with his now steady thrusts. She felt every movement inside, moving deep into her body. In one last plunge he lifted her feet off the floor, holding her there, with his strong stiff cock, buried deep inside her vagina.

She felt it spasm, imagining it spurting fluid deep inside, filling her up with young vigorous sperm. "Fill your slut up, make your slut all yours," she yelled.

As he shrunk inside her, they collapsed onto the bed. She rolled him off her, onto his back. She moved down his sweaty body, with kisses and licks, all the way down to his flaccid cock. With a strong suction she had him in her mouth, all of it, right down to his balls. Pulling at his cock, and running her tongue around it, she cleaned it. She sucked every last drop from his sack.

Soon he was clean and the task was over. Anne felt the game ending too, releasing her from its overpowering control. Her head flopped onto his hard, flat stomach. She felt sated and guilty. A few days ago she would have been frightened, with this dire condition threatening her life. After such abuse she had become used to it and so, felt a great relief that it was over, for the moment.

"Please, just let me go," she mumbled. "You've humiliated me, isn't that punishment enough?" she raised her head, looking him in the eye.

"You wanted it! I don't call that humiliation. You begged me to fuck you," he told her.

"That's what I mean," she quickly returned, with an earnest expression.

"I might take you back to John," he began.

"No! Please, let me just go home, please," she begged.

"Why? What's wrong with John, what will he do to you?" he asked.

"Bad things, I can't tell you," she shuddered.

"What did you do before then? You seem to have had a lot of practice," he teased. He took her chin in one hand to look her in the eye. "Perhaps I should make you my sex slave, you'll tell me then," he said.

Anne gasped. "No! Please don't. I'll tell you whatever you want," she said, recoiling from him.

The maid game finished when dismissed or the task was completed. The slut game finished when they both completed an orgasm. The slave game wouldn't end until he pretended to sell her, or set her free. He could keep her playing along, as his obedient sex slave, until she was completely subsumed into the role.

Would he ever set free, an obedient slave girl, pandering to his every whim? If she dared ask him to sell her, to end the dreadful game, would he actually do it rather than pretend.

"Tell me then," he demanded. He grabbed her face in his hands forcing her to look at him, so as to judge the truth of her sordid tale.

"It happened by accident. I wore an android suit and became a student's sex-droid. At a party a student took me to a bedroom, where he and his friends, used me. Then they made me lick a girl, down there, until she had an orgasm," Anne spoke in an agony of guilt. The recounting of it reminded her how deeply immoral her life had become, and would continue, if she didn't win him round and escape.

"What game are you playing now?" he asked.

"I'm not. The game is over," she stated, hoping he wouldn't invoke another.

"Perhaps I might try another," Richard said.

"Please, just let me go. I need a rest from the last few terrible days. I need to get back to normal," she pleaded.

"Perhaps the great and mighty important professor needs to be brought down a little more. You've been such a naughty girl," he taunted her.

Anne hung her head in shame, knowing it was an understatement, that she had been a very bad girl. She had been completely debauched.

Richard slapped her bare ass. "Look at me," he demanded. "I was thinking of making you into a bimbo, an airhead. You could dye your hair blond and paint your toe nails bright red. What a way to look, and behave, for a professor. A perfect revenge, don't you think?" he laughed.

Anne was about to shout at him, for her mind had recovered from the game, releasing her from his control. A sudden memory brought forth a gasp of anguish. She had pushed it into the back of her mind, though not so much from what happened. It was from what might have happened. Her husband had instigated the bimbo game one weekend, for the first and last time.

***

Anne was in the kitchen fetching a drink for her husband, when there was a knock at back door. A young delivery guy stood staring at her.

"I have a package for Professor, err," he said. Joe needed to look at the name on the package, but he couldn't take his eyes from the girl standing before him. She was wearing a micro mini skirt, and a blouse, tied under a massive pair of tits. They were straining at the fabric, threatening to burst free.

Standing on the bottom step, his eyes were level with the enormous tits, and as much as he tried, he couldn't look down at the label for the professor's name.

"She's not here right now, can you leave it with me," Anne asked him.

The silly squeaky voice was annoying, but it was a part of the game, therefore, beyond her control. The statement was partly true, for the implant was active, and she was no longer an intelligent professor. She was acting the part of a dumb blond bimbo. Her hair was a temporary blond, teased into a halo of gold around her head. She looked down at him with a cute smile on her face.

"I could take the package for the proff," Anne giggled. She hated behaving this way before a stranger, but it didn't really matter, for he would soon be on his way.

Joe quickly recovered, for he was used to lonely women at home, inviting him in for a cool drink. From the sight of this vision of sex on legs, he knew only one thing would cool him down. "I need to get a signature," he lied.

"Do you have a pen? I haven't got one on me," she said, patting down her body, as though a small pen could be hidden, in such a slight outfit.

"No," he lied. "I'll wait while you get one," he suggested.

"OK." she said, with a little girly giggle, and turned to find one.

Joe stepped in behind her. He could feel his cock gagging for it, and reminded himself to stay calm. He was used to letting the woman of the house seduce him, with a little friendly help.

Anne cursed on seeing him enter the kitchen. He was in her home, making him a part of the game. While he was outside the stupid little girly could keep him at arms length and she could at least protect her from trouble. The control Anne had over the game-play was drastically reduced, as it configured this ruffian into it.

Anne went through draws, in a panic, trying to find a pen. They had played games for a few months, though never before had someone caught them at it. She was trapped in the role of a dumb blond and was finding it difficult to think straight. She needed someone to think for her, to tell her what to do.

That was exactly what the rules of the game demanded and why her husband would enjoy it, though right now, it was embarrassing. As a blonde bimbo she had to be sexy too, which was dangerous, in the presence of this stranger. She needed to find a damn pen and quickly get rid of him.

"What about the cupboards down there, could be a pen in one of them," Joe suggested.

"OK." She giggled. Damn it! The silly bitch that controlled her behavior was too stupid to realize what he was doing to her. The program in her mind had configured the game to include him.

He stood watching her bend over, pushing her head into one cupboard after another. The little skirt hid nothing of her transparent panties, as she wiggled her heart shaped ass around. She was bent over moving things around, as though there might be a pen among the cleaning products.

Anne could feel the little skirt ride up, but couldn't do anything about it. It was all a part of the game. She meant to stand up and banged her head on the cupboard. She put a finger to her pouting lips and struck a cute, girly pose.

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm such a silly head. I don't know where the professor keeps anything," she cooed. It was getting worse by the second. She was calling him sir, which meant he had become the object of the stupid bitch's attention.

"That's OK. You can get me a coke, while I wait," he told her, with a big grin.

She just stood there looking confused and embarrassed. "In the fridge," he told her and pointed.

"Oh! Yes of course, sir," she spluttered. Anne felt so embarrassed, leaving her even more confused and feeling more stupid than ever, pushing her further into game. It left her with even less control over the pathetic girl that was controlling her.

She cradled two cans in her arms nearly dropping them, so pressed them firmly against her breasts.

"Which one would you like, sir," she asked.

He was much younger than her, about twenty-one, yet she couldn't stop calling him sir. It made her feel all the more embarrassed and useless. It was galling knowing the longer this carried on, the deeper the implant gained control, pushing her further into the role of a dumb blonde.

"Which one is colder?" he asked. She looked at him with a blank expression.

He put his hands around the two cans, while she still clutched them to her breasts. Joe felt her hard nipples, either from the cold or excitement. Though it was difficult to tell, he thought she looked hot. When she gazed up at him through long eyelashes, without complaining about him touching her nipples, he knew it was from arousal.

He took the two cans from her and only just refrained from gasping out loud. The blouse was wet and see-through. She wasn't wearing a bra. The hard nipples were pointing at him as though he had been chosen, and he knew what for.

Anne tried to remind herself she was a professor at the university, a responsible and respectable woman, not a silly little airhead of a girl. She looked down at her breasts, seeing them on show to this common delivery guy. She wanted to shout at him, instead she giggled. The pathetic sound was too much to bear and she withdrew into the role a little further.

"Oh! I'm sorry, sir," she giggled, and put a garishly painted finger nail, between a pair of luscious lips. She looked up at him through long eyelashes. "I'm so naughty, I can't help myself. I'm always doing silly things," she said, in a little girly voice.

Joe looked at her mistakenly assessing she was around his age. She was dressed like a slut and she acted like one. Undoubtedly she was a dumb blonde and looked so very hot. She swung her hips from side to side giving him such a sultry look it was obvious, she was aroused. She wanted it and he was prepared to give her what she wanted.

He had seduced many a lonely housewife so knew to take it slow, not to just dive in, or they would shy off at the last moment. It would leave him frustrated, though there were some that wanted just that. This was no housewife though, and she was giving him all the right signs.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Err. I'm just looking after the house, for the professor, while she's out," Anne said, on a spur of the moment, while the dumb bitch was wondering what to say. The last thing she wanted was to reveal she was Professor Draper, while showing off her body so lewdly.