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Subject: {ASSM} <2ndS> The Server by Conjugate (FF MFF MFFR mast oral sci-fi accidental bsdm other)
Date: Sun, 25 Feb 2001 04:10:04 -0500
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<1st attachment, "The Server by Conjugate.txt" begin>

The Server, by Conjugate <*> <FF MFF MFFR mast oral sci-fi accidental bsdm other >

Warning:  This is an adult story, not for those who are too young to
read sexually explicit tales.  If you are too young, or if you are
offended by sexually explicit content, stop reading right here.

This story is copyright 2001 by Conjugate.  All rights reserved.  This
story may be stored or archived at any site as long as no money is
charged for the privilege of reading it, as long as this header and
author information remains intact.

And any apparent resemblance between the characters of this story and
any of the ASSD readers is purely a figment of your overactive 
imaginations.  Really.  Would I lie about a thing like that?  :-)
-----------------------------------------------------------------------

"You've ordered a _what_?"  Kiv looked at her friend and lover, Sab, 
with open astonishment.

"It's a tennis robot.  It's to keep you-know-who out of our way for a
while so we can get back to, well, you know...."

Kiv did indeed know.  For the last two weeks, she and her lover had 
tried to share a man.  It had worked for a time, and had even enhanced
their love life, but what they wanted was variety.  And Ace was getting
too predictable.  It wouldn't have been so bad if Ace would leave them 
alone for a time, or just give them a little space, but he was simply
overjoyed at the prospect of two beautiful, young bisexual women to 
play with, and seemed to be hurt or miffed at the prospect of being
left out.  Still, the new robots were extremely expensive.

"Sab, how are we going to pay for this?  I mean, I haven't seen one
of these personal robots, even one of the low-end specialized ones,
for sale for much less than an expensive car costs, for Christ's
sake, and you know that keeping the three of us in contraceptives 
alone is getting to be really expensive...."

"Relax!  It's not going to cost us a thing.  That's the beauty of it.
I went to that website with all the contests, and I won a robot!"

"You mean, oh, what's the name, umm...."

"_Watchabunchofadsinexchangeforatinychanceofwinningcrap.com_!  That's
the one.  And I won!  It's the coolest thing.  Look at the picture.  See,
they got it when the manufacturer went out of business, so it didn't cost 
them much either, and they put it up as a prize, and it's the best prize
they've had so far, and I _won!_  I can't believe it!"

Kiv could see her friend was truly excited.  And Ace didn't get his nick
from playing cards; the boy loved tennis, so the robot would get some
real use, that was for sure.  As she looked at the ad, she could see that
it wasn't a bad model, for a robot; the serial number seemed to indicate
that it was one of the models that could be trained for a variety of tasks
peripherally related to its design purpose, and that was not found in the
cheapo models.  And the picture...

The picture made it look as though effort had been made to make it look 
like a real human, in this case a cute short brunette with moderate breasts
wearing a perky short tennis skirt and white blouse.  "Terrific Trixie,"
the ad copy said, "is our best serving specialist yet!  If you're tired of
playing with no partner or finding yourself at the short end of a love
match, she'll show you what you're doing wrong and you'll have a great time
learning to do it right!"  The ad copy went on at some length like that, 
but Kiv didn't worry about it.  She was more and more coming to feel that 
she and Sab were luckier than they ever deserved.  She didn't know how 
right she was.

Free goods are rarely shipped Overnight.  As the weeks wore on, Kiv and Sab
kept hinting to Ace about how they really didn't feel like sex tonight, and
would he mind sleeping somewhere else?  But somehow, he never took the hint,
or perhaps he knew perfectly well what they were suggesting and didn't want
to miss any action.  So, night after night, they went to sleep, the three of
them in the great big bed, and nothing happened.  Well, once or twice, but 
it wasn't worth discussing.

All right, fine.  If you insist.  They woke late one night to the unmistakable
sound of Ace filling another tissue or two.  "You know," Kiv said very 
hopefully, as Ace's gasping and thrusting died down, "you really might be 
thoughtful enough to do that somewhere else."  

"Yeah, but I keep hoping that you gals will help me out.  I mean, what's the
matter with you two?  Just not horny, for what is it, three weeks now?"

"That's right," Sab lied, knowing that she was horny for a little private
one-on-one with Kiv and without an audience.  "I guess we just don't stay as
excited as you guys do.  But if it bothers you to go without in a bed with
two gorgeous young women, there's another bed, very comfortable, that you 
can get from unfolding the couch...."

He knew, of course, about how the couch unfolded into a bed.  Both women had
made a point of making sure he knew all about it.  Tragically, he insisted 
on treating the knowledge as a purely theoretical exercise, like dividing a
neutron into quarks, or 11-dimensional space-time.  "Yeah, but it's cold on
the couch, and I really like you two, so I wouldn't want to leave you out.
I mean, let's face it, at least this way you know I'm not cheating on the
three of us, right?"

And he was, of course, right.  One of the terms early on was that none of 
the three would cheat with someone outside the relationship.  With the rise
of the new, antibiotic-resistant STDs, condom-piercing syphilis, and 
flesh-eating crab lice, the costs of promiscuity to all three partners were
simply too high to consider.  Kiv and Sab exchanged a slightly guilty glance.

"Here," Kiv suggested, "at least let me clean you off."  She reached over, 
yanked a tissue out of the box, and finished wiping the goo off Ace's soft
dick.  Or it had been soft; slowly, as she stretched the tip to clean behind
the glans and the base of the shaft, it began to thicken.  _Wow,_ she 
thought, seeing how speedily he could recover, _I guess he hasn't had a cum
in a long time._  Well, she could take care of that.

She slid over his body, positioning him between her and Sab.  As Sab reached
over to stroke his chest lightly, she put her head down near his cock, and
smelled the familiar odor.  _I used to really like giving blow jobs,_ she
thought.  _I wonder why I haven't in so long?_  She blew air over the head
and shaft of his cock, and began stroking it gently with one hand.  Sliding
the other arm under his leg, she reached around and began stroking his 
testicles lightly.  He moaned.

"Oh, yeah, Kiv, suck it like a Hoover!  Oh, honey, slurp my love-stick!"

_Oh, yeah,_ Kiv thought, remembering why she hadn't blown him in so long.
_He has all the romantic nature of a ball-peen hammer._  Without looking,
she knew that Sab would be lightly stroking his chest still, and either
teasing him by kissing his ears lightly or nibbling gently at his neck.
Because he'd come once not much earlier, he took his time about it, and it
was almost half an hour before he came again.  She reveled in the sense of
control she had, knowing that what she and Sab were doing to this guy was
the most important thing in the world to him at that moment, and that he
was utterly under their control.  She and Sab really hadn't shared that 
sense of power in far too long, but they really wanted to share something
else more.  And it looked like Ace was never going to leave them alone
long enough to do that.

Fortunately, it wasn't that much longer before the tennis-robot came.  
Even more fortunately, it arrived on a Friday afternoon, so they would
have a chance to get it unpacked and ready, and then ship Ace off to the
public tennis courts the next day for a long full day of uninterrupted
play--his and theirs.  The robot was quickly unpacked, and posed there 
sexily in its short little tennis skirt.

"Hi!" it chirped.  "My name is Trixie!  I am programmed to serve, and
I just love it!  You can try out all my functions!  I can..."

"Hi, Trixie," Sab interrupted, with an urgency borne of sapphic lust.
"I'm sure you're just terrific, but right now we want you to go with
Ace and do whatever he says, all right?  You and he go play tennis
together, and spend a nice long time backhanding his volley or whatever
it is you do, all right?"

Trixie turned -- Kiv was impressed by the way the robot tracked Sab's
gesture, and identified Ace -- and approached Ace.  "Hi, Ace!" it
chirped.  "My name is Trixie!  I am programmed to serve, and I just
love it!  You want to go play now?"  That cheerful chirp would have
gotten on her nerves by now, she thought, but the idea that she and
Sab would be alone for a while made it seem musical and cute.  And it
really was a nicely-made robot; she almost couldn't see the seams in 
the skin.  She wondered why anybody would spend that much money on a
robot whose only purpose was to give a tennis player practice in
returning different styles of serves, but hey, the company that made
it had gone out of business, after all.  And it was free.  She watched
as Ace headed for the closet where his tennis stuff was stowed, and
then to the door, Trixie bouncily following him.

They were out the door only a few moments when the two girls fell into 
one another's arms.  They didn't say a word until they were in the 
bedroom, which they thoughtfully locked behind them, in case Ace came
back for another sports drink or something.  Then they fell into the
great bed together.  "So," said Kiv, breaking the silence.  "Do you 
want to do me first, or would you like me to do you first?"

Sab smirked.  "Well, it's been so long..." she said.  "Why don't we
do each other?"  The two women curled up into the traditional 69 and 
were soon licking gently at one another's labia.

                           ********

Meanwhile, Ace had gotten Trixie out to the tennis courts in the 
neighborhood park.  Amazingly, the park was deserted, a nearly
unheard-of occurrence on a Saturday morning.  _Maybe it's just
early_, Ace thought.  _Anyway, it's my good luck to have the place
to myself._  He didn't realize how right he was, but not for the
reason he thought.

"Okay, get over there and let me have a few," he called to the robot.

"Beg pardon?"  Trixie responded.  She tipped her head to one side,
like a puzzled puppy and blinked a few times.  

"Get over there and let me have a few!  You're supposed to serve,
right?"

"I am programmed to serve, and I just love it!"

"That's nice, Trixie.  Now, go over to that side of the net, and let
me see what you've got."

"Beg pardon?"  She tipped her head again.

"Go over there and serve!"

"I am programmed to serve, and I just love it!"

"God damn it, what's the matter with you?  I want you to hit me a 
few balls!"  That, he noticed, seemed not quite to be the phrase
she was looking for either.  She tipped her head as her parsing
routines tried to make sense of the remark, and then skipped merrily
towards him.

"Oh, boy!  I _like_ playing that game!  Here I come!"

"No, wait, you stupid machine.  I meant from _that_ side of the -- Aargh!"
He dropped to the ground in a fetal position, in no shape to appreciate 
that the blow had been delivered with a strength carefully gauged to cause
a great deal of pain with little real damage.  By the time the sparks had
faded from his vision, he could see the robot standing eagerly in front of
him, and could focus on her words.  

"What shall we do next?  Would you like me to call you a pathetic worm?  I
can kick you in the ribs!  I like this game!  Tell me what to do next!"

"Well," said Ace, trying to uncurl himself and keep his genitals protected,
"I want... Aargh!"  He'd found it's not as easy to uncurl yourself under
those circumstances as he'd have liked.

"What do you want me to do next?  I want to know!"  

"Go fuck yourself, bitch!"

"Okay!  I like that game too!"

What happened next was amazing to Ace.  You see, Ace had never been the kind
of person whose high-school class would vote him most likely to do, well, 
anything requiring brains.  So he hadn't quite picked up on the pattern of 
behavior that this robot was demonstrating, and as a result, he was completely 
flabbergasted when the robot dropped her shorts, wiggled an amazingly lifelike 
pantiless crotch in his direction, and sat down, legs spread, to use the tennis 
racket in a way that its manufacturer had probably never intended.  _My God_,
he thought.  _She even lubricates realistically._  Then the thought worked its
way through the recesses of his brain, and he realized something that he should
have realized quite a bit earlier.  _Hey!  This isn't a tennis robot!_

He pondered his dilemma as he lay on the tennis court watching a robot simulate
masturbation with a tennis racket.  It was, perhaps, not the position most
philosophers would recommend as conducive to serious thought, but somehow it 
worked.  On the one hand, his day of tennis was shot, since he wasn't sure he 
could even stand up without help.  On the other hand, he had an opportunity to 
do something else with the day, assuming that he wasn't too badly hurt to spurt, 
so to speak.  Now, would it constitute cheating with the girls?  Well, they were 
the ones who had gotten the tennis robot for him, so they obviously intended for 
him to use it.  And if they didn't know what it was used for, was that his fault?  
And it wasn't like he was going to catch anything from a robot, for Christ's 
sake... he began to think about where to go from here.  "Hey, Trixie!" he said.  
"Hold up a minute and get your pants back on!"

Trixie looked up, just as delighted as if he'd suggested a party.  "Okay!"  she
said and slid her shorts back on and wiped off the tennis racket handle.  She
beamed expectantly at him, her head tipped to one side, and blinked a few times.

"Okay, Trixie, we're going to play a new game now."

"Cool!  I like that game!"

"Okay, Trixie, you have to come here and help me stand up now."  The tennis robot
bounced perkily over to him, and waited.  Apparently "help me stand up" wasn't as
specific as it needed to be.  "Okay, now, give me your hand...I mean, put your hand
in mine and help me stand up," he said, worried for a moment that the robot might
just detach her hand and deliver the whole thing to him.  Gradually, he managed to
reach his feet.  _Now_, he thought.  _Where can I go?  It's got to be in the 
apartment because I can't get a motel room without my credit cards, and I didn't
bring them with me.  But I don't want the girls to see me.  Where in the apartment
would they not be going at this point?  I know!  The kitchen!_

                           ********

Kiv separated herself stickily from Sab, and caught her breath.  "That," she said,
"was amazing.  Really amazing.  I've wanted that for so long.  You just don't know."
The two women had finished their 69 in a surprisingly short time, and paused for
breath.  Then Sab had taken to stimulating Kiv with tongue and fingers combined, 
and now Kiv was recuperating.

"So," said Sab, perhaps a little hopefully, "what do you want to do now?"

Kiv grinned at her lover.  "You know," she said, "there's something I've always
wanted to do to you, but you keep interfering."

"What do you mean?"

"Come here, and I'll show you!"  Kiv laughingly took her friend back to the
bed, and rooted around for the web belts they used for the commando game.  "Now,
put your hand up here where I can get it good and tight..."

In short order Sab was tied down, legs spread-eagled, and Kiv was stroking her
stomach and running her tongue around the rim of her ear.  "You know," Kiv
whispered, "whenever I get to going on you, you always stop me just when I'm 
getting you really hot and bothered, and never let me take my time.  Well, 
this time you're going to have to wait, sweety."  And with that, she began a
long slow teasing process that, for a good quarter of an hour did not even
tickle Sab's pubic hair.  And for an hour after that, she worked her tongue
slowly around the labia, carefully avoiding bringing any real satisfaction to
the clitoris that peeked out from under its hood, eager for the direct pressure
that it wasn't going to get for a long time.  Then for another hour, the clit
was teased, caressed, kissed, and slowly stimulated towards what was going to
have to be one of the biggest and most massive orgasms Sab had felt in years.
It was so intense and so gradual, and they were both so focused on their 
work, that neither knew exactly when the apartment door opened, or noticed the
faint sounds coming from the kitchen.

                            ********

Quite a long time later, when Sab had nearly wrenched the bed apart in an attempt
to speed up an experience that wouldn't be hurried, when the sparks had cleared
from her vision, and when she was untied and unbound, the two naked young women
sat up to collect themselves.  "You know," Kiv said, "it's funny.  I think I want
sex more after I've had a lot of good sex than I do when I haven't had any for a
while."  She looked at Sab for confirmation; the other women could only gasp and
nod.  "So, anyway, I'm thinking I could just keep going.  Have I worn you out
completely?"  Again, she looked at Sab, who could only nod apologetically.  "Well,
you rest up.  I figure Ace should be back soon, and maybe I'll wear him out for a
while, until you recover.  For some reason, I'm finding I can deal with him a lot
better now."  Sab, still unable to speak, just nodded.

A gasp from outside the bedroom made both of them look up.  "Whoa!" exclaimed Kiv.
You don't suppose Ace is back already?  I thought that tennis robot would keep him
out on the courts for a while.  Let's go look."

She helped a still-wobbly Sab to her feet.  "Oh gosh, that was good.  You think
that noise was Ace?"  she gasped.  Kiv noticed with approval that her eyes were
almost able to focus reliably again.

"I don't know who else it could be," she said, "because we locked the front door and
he's the only other guy with a key, right?"  Any reply from Sab was cut off by a 
sharp cry from the direction of the kitchen.

"Let's go see," Sab said.  "I don't know but it sounds like he might be hurt."

When they got to the kitchen, they could see that Ace was, in fact, not hurt.  In
fact, Ace was just about as far from hurting as it is possible for a man who's been
smacked in the balls earlier in the day to be.  The fact that he was lying, naked 
from the waist down, in a puddle on the kitchen floor, was not lost on them, nor was
the fact that the robot, similarly nude, was much more anatomically correct than
politically correct, as it carefully cleaned out its orifices.

"Ace!"  yelled Sab.  "What the hell are you doing with our tennis robot?"

"It's not a tennis robot," Ace replied.  "It's a sex robot."

"Sex robot!  Sex robot, my ass!"

Now, those of you who don't know what happened next clearly haven't been hearing the
right kinds of dirty jokes.  For instance, there's this joke about the guy whose wife
buys a guard dog named Buttercup.  The salesman demonstrates the dog to her by showing
her a mannikin, and pointing to it.  "Buttercup, the arm!"  the salesman says.  The 
dog obligingly savages the mannikin's arm.  "Buttercup, the leg!"  the salesman says,
The dog attacks the mannikin's leg so ferociously that it comes off.  So the woman,
suitably impressed, brings the dog home and shows it to her husband.  "His name is
Buttercup," she tells her husband.

"Buttercup, my ass!"  her husband replies. 

So Kiv and Ace watched in appreciation as the sex robot went to its work.  Sab 
stiffened with astonishment as the robot knelt behind her, and then stiffened
with surprise.  "My God, Kiv, it's got a tongue!"  She waited a moment, her eyes
wide, and then stiffened again, standing on her tiptoes.  "Oh, my GOD, Kiv, you
aren't going to believe this...it's got a long... a long... Oooh!" and she 
stiffened again, "a _really_ long tongue!  Oh, Kiv, you have got to try this."

Kiv left the room -- nobody noticed her go -- and went into the computer room, where
the ad for the robot was still lying.  She picked it up.  When she got back to the
kitchen, Sab was lying on the floor, her breathing ragged, and Trixie was, well,
washing her tongue.  "I think I've figured it out," she said.  "Look here -- well,
look here as soon as you can get your eyes to focus again, Sab."  She held the ad
out and began to read.

"Terrific Trixie," the ad copy said, "is our best serving specialist yet!  If you're 
tired of playing with no partner or finding yourself at the short end of a love match, 
she'll show you what you're doing wrong and you'll have a great time learning to do it 
right!  She'll teach you all you want to know about your strokes, and she'll show you
strokes you haven't even heard of yet!  If you've always wanted a partner to play with
your balls and make your racket a whole new racket, Terrific Trixie is just the thing
you've been looking for.  Whether your shots are in or out, or if you like the old
in and out, you'll find Trixie has the moves!"

"So, if she's that good," asked Ace, "how come the company that made her went out of
business?"

"Maybe because some idiot marketed her as a tennis accessory?" suggested Sab.

Kiv began to laugh.  "Yeah, I can see that.  The people who want a sex robot wouldn't
be looking under sporting goods, and the real tennis buffs who bought her would find out
she couldn't do tennis, and cost way too much!  

"Hi!" said Trixie.  "My name is Trixie!  I am programmed to serve, and
I just love it!  You can try out all my functions!"

"My turn!" said Kiv, and grabbed the unresisting Trixie and dashed off to the bedroom.

"Well," said Sab, "I'm going to get something to eat before I collapse.  I suppose you
want to go to the bedroom and watch them?"

"Well," said Ace, and then stopped.  "Well, I guess... nah, I guess they deserve a little
privacy.  Besides, if I got it up one more time I'm afraid it'd kill me.  How does that
couch thing work again?"

Sab, fixing herself a sandwich, hid her astonishment successfully.  Who the hell knew,
she thought, that the robot could accomplish that?

                                         #

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