index


Message-ID: <46334asstr$1074726605@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "DB_Story" <DB_Story@att.net>
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Subject: {ASSM} revised: Abandoned Property {DB_Story} (M/Fembot, rom, ScFi, asfr)
Lines: 1535
Date: Wed, 21 Jan 2004 18:10:05 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

ABANDONED PROPERTY
By DB  ( DB_Story@att.net / http://home.att.net/files/Authors/db_story/www/ )
Copyrightc 2002-2004 by DB.
ASMM/ASFR (M/Fembot, rom, ScFi, asfr)

(This story contains Constitutionally protected material intended 
for adults over 18 years of age in the United States of America, 
and whatever passes for adult status in other countries.  If you 
are under legal age, acting under legal age, not allowed to view 
such material in your area, or easily offended, please do not 
continue.  This is not for you.

(The only rights granted are to view this story.  You are not 
allowed to reproduce, post, or otherwise redistribute this story 
without permission, except for non-profit Usenet archiving sites.

(To purchase for publication, place on your web-site devoted to 
this style of fiction, or for permission to link to my posted 
material, please contact me first at the above email.)

- - -

Author's Note: This story is part of my emerging cosmology about 
the evolution of robots into our near future society and the 
myriad ways we will learn to interact with our creations.  Read 
it now, and be prepared.  For more, visit my web-site at the 
above address.

A special thanks to Gorgo his excellent and much appreciated 
proofreading.  All remaining mistakes are mine.

- - -

You don't have to be a rich and famous person to live like one of 
them occasionally.  You just have to be on the lookout and take 
advantage of opportunities when they present themselves.

My luxury in life is a platinum charge card.  Yeah it costs more 
than a regular card - by a goodly amount!  But it gets me airline 
miles every time I use it, and it puts me in a demographic that 
fancy places like to get into their customer base.  In short, it 
makes me look like other rich folks, and I get included in the 
pile of offers that get sent to them.  It also makes a good 
impression on dates when I pull it out to pay for dinner, and 
leaves hotel desk clerks believing I'm a better class of 
customer.  As you might guess from that last statement, yes I am 
still single, and usually the one doing the paying.

Even the best resorts in the world have their high and low 
seasons where the prices vary dramatically.  Add to that the 
special promotions that come along occasionally, plus how my 
other spending pays for my plane tickets (coach class or 
excursion fares, but everyone on the plane arrives at the same 
time), and I end up staying in some pretty nice places along the 
way.  Alone usually, but having more fun than paying for someone 
else's entertainment who only came along because she wanted an 
all expenses paid trip to a nice place while still not ready for 
us to sleep together yet.  Ever had a relationship like that?  
I've had too many.

So I'm headed off to the South Pacific this time, where French is 
the lingua franca, and exclusive resorts come with their own 
islands.  A place I could only dream about normally.  As for the 
people who ask me how I keep managing to take these trips every 
year or so, I tell them it's not a lack of money that stops most 
people from doing what I do - but rather a lack of imagination.

With an unexpected tailwind, and bumpy air as we cross the 
equator in the early morning hours (in my experience there's 
always bumpy air crossing the equator), I actually arrive on the 
main island nearly two hours ahead of schedule.  And for once my 
baggage is first off the jumbo jet.  The sun is barely up as I 
clear customs and immigration ahead of the crowd.

This is a good thing.  There are only two flights a day by small 
seaplane to my chosen resort island.  I was told I'd miss the 
morning one and have to bum around until evening.  While that's 
not the worst thing that can happen when you are in an exotic 
land already populated with some of the friendliest and most 
beautiful people on Earth, it's less fun when you've just spent 
the night trying to sleep in your seat, have no real place to 
leave your luggage and catch a shower, and would rather be 
spending every possible minute at the resort which is still 
expensive even under these circumstances.

Airline reservations clerks are some of the most amazing people 
in the world.  They seem to be able to solve travel problems as 
naturally as breathing.  It is a resource every traveler should 
know to make use of, and all one has to do is ask politely.

Before the first vendor of the morning could try to sell me my 
first overpriced souvenir, I was in the last available seat of 
the morning flight, and even watched them safely load my luggage 
into the hatch below my seat window.  Ninety minutes later we 
land in an astonishingly azure blue, tropical lagoon with the 
clearest water I have ever seen and taxi to the dock.

- - -

There is one rule that always exists at every five-star hotel and 
restaurant: There will never be a problem for the customer.  
Count on it.

I'd arrived early, which I like to do because sometimes you can 
get a better room by having the first choice of the day.  I 
wasted no time sightseeing, instead getting myself to reception. 
 At the front desk I gave them my reservation information, and 
let on how tired I was and how nice a shower would be - yet that 
I would wait for a better room if that could happen.

I could tell that this front desk clerk was in a quandary.  It 
was well before their stated check-in time, but I was here.  I 
finally asked her gently what the situation was.

She told me they weren't fully booked for tonight and that I 
could get one of their very best rooms.  However it had not been 
cleaned yet, and wouldn't be for at least another three hours.  A 
less desirable room could be had right now.

I have no trouble making up my mind in these situations.  I told 
her I'd really like the nice room.  And if I could just drop my 
bags off there now, I would be more than happy to stay out of the 
way until they could have it cleaned properly.  I did my best 
acting job of convincing her that this was such a small 
inconvenience for me to bear for the sake of getting a better 
room, that I would never hold it against them for not already 
having it prepared for my arrival.

It only took her a moment to realize that this would really make 
me much happier than any alternative (which was the whole point), 
and she gave me the keys.  I left happy that I had most likely 
scored a much finer room for the week than they would have 
normally given me.  Such a hotel would never ask a guest to pick 
up and move once they'd settled in.  It was a small price to pay.

I like to carry my own bags.  It's just a quirk of mine, like not 
liking to give my car over to valet parking attendants.  Rental 
cars fine, but not my own.  I scooped up my bags before one of 
the staff could grab them (never travel with more than you can 
carry, for at some point in your journey you will certainly have 
to) and asked directions to the room.  Of course no one was going 
to take them out of my hands, so she pointed the way and I 
followed the room number signs right to my door.

Already I saw how beautiful this resort was, beyond what the 
brochure had shown.  It was a series of two story buildings 
connected by paths on the ground and open second-story walkways 
to the upper floor rooms, all weaving through a tropical jungle 
of plants, flowers, and birds amid the welcome change of tropical 
humidity.  I loved every moment of it as I wandered along the 
bridges to my room.

My first impression of the room when I stepped in is that it is 
big - real big.  This was going to be great.  Obviously the 
cleaning staff had not gotten to it, but I didn't care.  I walked 
through the main room to the bedroom and dropped my stuff at the 
foot of the big bed under the fan.  Then I explored the immense 
bathroom off of it.  I could have held a party in the whirlpool 
tub alone.  The bathroom has windows that open up on the same 
view as the bedroom balcony I passed.  A quick look at the sky 
told me I'd be watching sunsets from here over the ocean for the 
next week.  I went back out to explore the bar and main living 
area that I had only noticed on the way in when I saw her.

- - -

She was absolutely stunning.  The only reason I'd missed her on 
the way in is that she'd been blocked from view by the door when 
I entered.  With my hands full I had just gone straight ahead 
into the bedroom.  Total tunnel vision.

"Hello," I said instinctively, fearing I had entered an occupied 
room.  "The front desk told me this room was vacant," I added, 
worried now that I might be about to lose this room to its 
previous tenant before I really had it.  This has happened before 
when I've pushed the envelope.  But she didn't move, or otherwise 
react to my presence.

I quickly realized she was frozen in place.  Either a room 
sculpture, which would be appropriately fitting for a room in a 
resort like this, or a deactivated 'bot.

I took an extra minute to ensure that she really wasn't 
responsive before finally going over to her.  I had already 
decided she must be a 'bot.  I tried waiving my hands in front of 
her eyes, which didn't react, and then touching her bare arm 
which was soft, yet cool, telling me she had been deactivated for 
at least several hours.

As I looked more closely at her I had to admit she was the most 
exotic fembot I'd ever seen (I've been fortunate enough to have 
seen a few up close), and either this resort included an 
additional amenity beyond what was already mentioned in their 
brochures, or she was left here by the previous occupant.  
Neither of these seemed likely, but I couldn't think of any 
better explanation.

She looked like she had stepped right off one of those high-class 
fashion advertisements you see in Paris on big posters 
everywhere.  At first glance she appeared tall, although her 
black stiletto heels and slim bare legs, along with a trim 
figure, contributed greatly to that impression.  Her striking 
face had a gaunt model's appearance that takes your breath away, 
with the mandatory high cheekbones and European fashion makeup.  
Actually she looked gaunt overall, in that almost-starving model 
sense.

Her rich dark hair was just long enough to frame her face, 
curling in at the bottom to just reach her long pale neck.  It 
complemented her large dark eyes perfectly.  Her exposed arms 
were as slender as her legs, but still clearly a woman's.  She 
wore a sleeveless simple black dress that hugged her tightly on 
her all the way down to the scant six inches below her thighs 
where it ended leaving a lot her legs to be enjoyed.  Although it 
showed little more than her almost bare shoulders where thin 
straps held it up, it somehow made her seem even less dressed 
than removing it entirely would have.

Her legs were smooth and gave a look that other women wear nylons 
to accomplish, and I admired the straight line up the back of one 
leg from heel to hem that few women can manage.  Her stance was 
equally amazing.

Despite the straightness of one leg, she bent forward at the 
waist, with the other foot a half-step in front of the first, 
knee bent, as if she had just started to pick something up off 
the floor and had to compensate for the extra height of her 
heels.  This resulted in showing those long legs to maximum 
advantage.  Her eyes were downcast and lips parted, as if in the 
middle of a word when she paused in this position.  It was that 
stance that had first had me thinking she had to be a sculpture. 
 She could not have possibly posed in a more appealing way.  Nor 
could any work of art been more perfect.

In addition to the dress and fashionably black heels, the only 
other item adorning her was a tiny, rectangular, shiny black 
locket around her neck with a couple diamonds on its face, held 
in place by a slender gold chain.  This hung just free of her 
neck while she remained bent over, and was the flawless proof of 
the truth that less is more when it comes to jewelry on 
exceptional women.  I looked at it closely and saw the name 
"Elle" spelled out in tiny gold script.

This left me in a quandary about what to do with her.  She was 
obviously a rich man's toy, far beyond what I could ever afford. 
 It was possible the hotel provides sexual services when 
requested, and if so undoubtedly at a very steep additional fee. 
 Or she belonged to someone else and this was just a screw up on 
the front desk's part.  Best to tread carefully here lest I find 
myself facing more expenses or trouble than I could really 
afford.

I spent several minutes trying to decide what to do before I 
finally just punted.  I'd leave the room now as I had promised 
the front desk so that it could be cleaned properly.  Go down and 
lie on the beach until lunch.  If "Elle" was still in my room 
when I returned after the cleaners had finished, then I'd look 
for her activation control and take my chances.  I have become a 
convert to the principal of it's easier to beg forgiveness 
afterwards, than ask permission first.  At least as long as I 
could create a plausible story that I really did think she was 
part of the resort's amenities.

Before I left however, I did take time to shoot a couple of 
pictures of her, and afterwards run my hands over her body.  She 
wouldn't mind, and at least I wouldn't miss that opportunity.  
She is so slender that I could almost feel her ribs through the 
thin black dress.  The way her arms reached forward made it hard 
to reach her breasts, except to notice with the tight dress that 
that they obviously weren't very large.  I started to pull the 
neckline away so that I could look down her dress, but just then 
there was a loud bump in the hallway.  I confess that I jumped 
about a foot, and was convinced that it had to be the cleaning 
crew's cart - or even worse, Elle's owner returning.  Either way, 
someone could be coming through that door any second now.  Best 
not to get caught in such a compromising position.  I headed for 
the door while trying to calm my racing heart.

Turns out it was the cleaning crew in the room next door.  That 
was enough to chase me out of there, all the while trying to 
feign a nonchalance I certainly didn't feel.  I did take one last 
look back at Elle, just to keep the memory of her in case I never 
saw her again.  In those few moments she had totally changed my 
view of what was beautiful in a fembot. provided I would ever own 
one, which doesn't seem likely any time soon.

- - -

I spent the rest of the morning exploring the resort, which is a 
favorite activity of mine every time I travel.  I kept wanting to 
go back to the room and see what had happened.  And I kept 
telling myself I'd only get in trouble if I went back too soon.  
Since I hadn't reported this to the front desk, they might think 
I was hiding something from them, so I wanted to give them every 
opportunity to discover and deal with her themselves.

I did stop by the desk and get copies of all the resort 
literature they had available.  None of it mentioned supplying a 
fembot for guest use during their stay.

I also found out that this island was bigger than I had expected. 
 There is even a native town down on the other end.  The 
receptionist told me how to catch le truck for local 
transportation when I wanted to go.  Frankly I found this to be a 
lot more intriguing than just a resort on a private island.

I finally decided I would go back to the room at two o'clock.  I 
went to the restaurant for lunch just after one o'clock, which 
was several hours past my normal lunchtime given the time zones 
I'd crossed.

One thing about this first day, when the travel west as well as 
south, it is seemingly endless - which is exactly the way I 
wanted it to be.  Let it never end.  And while I praised the 
leisurely service since I still had an hour to kill, I spent most 
of it looking at my watch, willing it to run faster.

There were still fifteen minutes to go on my self-imposed 
deadline when I left the restaurant.  At that point I finally 
said to heck with it and made a beeline for the room.

When I entered it seemed to take an eternity to verify that the 
room ahead of me was obviously cleaned up, and make my way around 
the door to see that Elle was standing right where I'd left her.

Not being one to take unnecessary chances, I toured every corner 
of my suite to ensure that housekeeping had completely done their 
job (they had), not left anyone behind in my suite (they hadn't), 
and that I shouldn't expect them to be returning for any 
unfinished business - like removing a 'bot that shouldn't be 
here.

I then hung out the SVP Ne D,rangez Pas sign, double locked the 
door, and went back to inspect my good temporary fortune.

- - -

Even though I've never owned one, or even had one to myself to 
use (I keep saying I'll rent one some day soon just for the 
experience), I know enough about 'bots to realize you need their 
control box to activate them and use them.  I began looking for 
hers.

I've seen them before.  They tend to be about the size of a 
remote garage door opener, though some fancy ones with many 
options can be the size of a small television remote.  They range 
from just a couple of large buttons up to some special advanced 
models that with upwards of thirty.  I searched the entire room 
without finding it.  Went through all the drawers in every room 
without luck.  Even looked in all the chairs and couches in case 
it had fallen in there, and under the furniture.  No luck.  
Checked Elle herself.  No pockets in her dress to hold it.  For 
lack of a remote, this whole adventure was about to crash.

I was ready to call housekeeping and ask them, pretending like 
there was nothing out of the ordinary and I was not an idiot who 
didn't know what he was doing, if they knew where it might be 
when the answer struck me.

I went back over and looked at the small ornament around her 
neck.  The two diamonds looked like tiny control buttons, and 
there was a single character next to each one.  The one on the 
left was marked "1", while the other one said "C".

I've never seen a control box this small, yet it fits with the 
nature of Elle herself.  She is obviously a rare and expensive 
model.  The sort a guest at this resort would own.  A miniature, 
fashionable control unit seems a given in hindsight.

With nothing to lose I reached over and pressed the jewel labeled 
"1".

- - -

Several seconds passed before she suddenly blinked her eyes and 
straightened up.  The delay had lulled me and I jerked back when 
she suddenly moved.

She straightened up, glanced around the room before returning her 
gaze to me and said, "Si vous terminez moi j'irai maintenant" in 
a musical, lilting voice.

I don't understand French.

She waited a few seconds for an answer I could not give before 
repeating herself a second time in a more demanding tone.

Falling back on what I do know, I used the approach that always 
works for me when I travel in other countries.  "English please," 
I asked.

"If you are through with me I will go now," she said in an 
English that still possessed a delightful French accent.

Even in English, I still didn't know how to respond to that 
comment, and said nothing.

This time she apparently took my silence as assent and took a 
step around me heading towards the door.

- - -

I almost let her go.  Watching those sexy legs walking in that 
short dress and high heels is enough to distract any man.  She 
actually got as far as her hand on the door lever before I 
realized I was about to lose her.

"Stop!" I half shouted.  "Stay.  I'm not through with you yet."

That froze her at the door, but she didn't turn around and come 
back to me either.  In fact she seemed to be caught in an 
internal conflict on what to do next.  Her feet shuffled in small 
motions while her hand gripped and released the door lever.  She 
seemed to want to leave, yet be unable to at the same time.  I 
realized there might be some question about my authority to 
command her, even though she had just asked me if she could 
leave.

She recognized that I had activated her.  That must be why she 
directed her question to me as the current authority figure.  But 
I must have lost that standing when I didn't answer her quickly 
enough.  Now she seemed caught in a struggle between obeying me, 
or some other apparent directive.  If I didn't act fast I was 
about to lose her for good.

"Elle," I said, pronouncing her name in the English "L-E" form, 
"I am not through with you yet.  Please come back here right 
now."

She still struggled at the door - facing away from me - obviously 
very conflicted.

"Elle," I said again as calmly as I could muster.  "Do I have to 
come over there and use your command button?"

At those words she stopped moving.  But it was still several 
seconds before she finally released the door lever, turned 
around, and walked slowly back over to me with her eyes downcast.

She stopped in front of me and slowly raised her dark eyes to 
look at me.

"My name is pronounced 'L'," she told me somberly.

"Elle," I said, pronouncing it properly this time.  "Is there any 
doubt in your mind about my authority to command you?"

She again looked down, biting her well-lipsticked lower lip in 
such a human gesture that I could only stand in awe of the genius 
that had created this woman.  It made her more desirable then 
ever.

She finally raised her eyes again and replied, "No."

I do know something about fembots, even if I've never seen 
anything like Elle before, so I waited silently.

Finally she clarified herself, "No...Master.  How may I serve 
you?"

That opened the door.  Given this opportunity I knew what I 
wanted, and didn't plan on delaying any gratification in the hope 
that postponed somehow equals improved.  I've lost enough good 
chances in my life learning this painful lesson.  Take what's 
offered now and let tomorrow take care of itself.

I looked at Elle again.  Her short black dress didn't hide her 
legs at all.  They looked more tanned then her neck, with her 
bare arms somewhere in-between.  So much more real than just one 
tone all over.  The way she could look so great wearing just that 
simple outfit, as well as the ease with which she balanced on 
those stiletto heels while looking as relaxed as anyone else 
standing barefoot in the sand, made my heart thump.  And now she 
was looking at me with a gaze I could only describe as 
trepidation.

Well, here goes.

"Elle," I said distinctly.  "Take your dress off."

Her look of trepidation changed quickly to one of resignation.  I 
could only guess that she realized this meant I was planning to 
keep her for a while longer.  But she didn't delay acting as I 
requested this time, perhaps remembering my earlier threat.

Instead she stepped away and turned her back to me before 
reaching up to slip the dress off each shoulder.  Then she bent 
forward again to the position that I had first seen her as she 
slipped the dress slowly down to her waist.  She took her time 
taking it over her hips, and there isn't a stripper alive who 
could have done a better job than she did slowly sliding it down 
her long legs to the floor.  She daintily stepped out of it the 
way only women in the tallest heels can do, and bent all the way 
down to pick it up off the floor while giving me an exceptional 
view of her legs and ass.

As she rose up her back was bare.  Elle wore no bra.  Considering 
this dress, there was probably no way she could have.  At her 
waist remained a delicate wisp of purest black silk panties 
clinging precariously to her slim hips.  Even more so now then 
before, her slender model's figure was so apparent that I could 
see the rounded hint of each rib.  And her ass, covered only by 
the thinnest black silk had just enough roundness in it to 
balance her hips.  I could already feel my hands wanting to hold 
her there.

Elle efficiently folded her dress and placed it on a nearby 
table, then stood waiting - still facing away.

I took a good look before continuing.  Everything I was seeing 
was my best fantasy come to life.

"Elle." She jerked slightly at my voice.  "Take off 
your...undergarment."

She paused only a moment before placing her hands high on her 
sides before sliding them down to her hips.  She ever so slowly 
bent over again as she slid the black silk down her legs even 
more slowly, caressing them along the way.  I could only imagine 
how that must feel for her.

Although only a few seconds passed, it seemed like an endless 
journey before it finally reached her black shoes and she again 
deftly stepped out of it before straightening up and placing it 
folded on her dress.  Every move she made shouted style.

She continued to stand facing away from me, shoulders slumped in 
a perfect expression of resignation.  If anything, she reminded 
me of a cat we'd once adopted whose previous owner must have 
mistreated it.  That cat never ran from anyone, but every time 
you went over to pet it the cat would flatten herself as far down 
onto the floor as possible to avoid the inevitable touch.  It 
seems ridiculous to think of a fembot in these terms, but that is 
exactly what came to mind.

It was clear that Elle was going to stand exactly as she was, 
facing away, one foot now straight in front of the other holding 
her womanhood tightly closed in the only way left to her, until 
she had to change.

"Elle, turn around."

She slowly pirouetted on her toes to face me.  She started to put 
her arm and hands over her breasts and pubic area, then dropped 
them to her sides as she realized the uselessness of it all.  I'd 
only tell her to move them if she did.  Once she finished her 
turn, she stood still and let me observe her while gazing back at 
me.  Her desire to protect her most blatantly sexual areas seemed 
so natural for a woman, I didn't immediately realize why it 
didn't mean at all the same thing for a fembot.

The first thing I noticed is that her breasts are what I 
expected.  Elle has very nice pair of well-defined pointy A-cups, 
with erect nipples and puffed out areola straining to reach out 
as far as possible.  Those nipples and areola seem overly large 
for her, making her breasts look even larger and especially 
sensitive.

While I first thought of her skin as white, she actually has a 
nice overall tan that is rich on her body, yet imperceptibly 
fades to pale when it reaches her neck and face.  This 
combination sets off her hair and eyes magnificently.

While thin, she does not appear starved or anorexic.  Her 
exceptional - there's no other word for it - naval punctuates a 
perfectly flat stomach.  Below is a small triangle of dense pubic 
hair pointing down between her legs.  With her legs together I 
couldn't see her womanhood, but there was no doubt in my mind 
that it is every bit as artfully designed as the rest of her.

She let me look for a good long time before saying without any 
real conviction, "If you are through with me I will go now."

"Elle, I am not through with you yet.  Stay here."

Her eyes and shoulders fell yet again, although she shouldn't 
have been surprised.  Her body language expressing her mood far 
better than any words could ever convey.

Elle was still wearing her shoes and locket control.  They added 
greatly to her appearance, so I didn't ask her to take them off. 
 Instead I had a more complex task in mind for her.

"Elle.  I want you to seduce me to the very best of your ability 
right now."

With that she immediately looked back up at me.  If she was 
thinking of any way to not comply she didn't think of it for 
long.  Instead she took a step forward with one exquisite leg, 
then slowly - and very seductively - began to walk towards me.

I was ready to order an immediate halt to her the moment things 
seemed to go wrong, but after the first minute of her approach I 
didn't even consider that option.

Elle's walk consisted of crossing each footstep across the 
imaginary centerline of her walk.  It was slow, deliberate, and 
sexy beyond description.  This motion had to be rubbing the folds 
of skin between her own legs in the process, undoubtedly to her 
own pleasure.

The length those black heels added to her legs made me hardly 
able to wait until I would handle them myself.  As if reading my 
thoughts, she ran her own hands down and back up her thighs a 
couple times in tease.  Her nipples looked pushed out as far as 
they could possibly go.  And even with her chin tucked down, she 
kept her dark shadowed eyes locked on mine.

When she finally reached me she reached out with both hands and 
pulled my head in for a long hard kiss.  It lasted exactly as 
long as she wanted it to, before she pushed me away again.

But she didn't back away.  Her hands slid over my neck and down 
my chest, and in one pass she opened up my shirt completely.  She 
dragged the back of her nails up over my bare skin to grab the 
shirt at my shoulders and pull it down off my arms.

Then she wrapped her arms around my neck and pressed her body up 
against mine for a long deeper kiss.  My arms automatically went 
around her slim form to pull us even tighter together.  When she 
opened her mouth mine automatically followed and her tongue slid 
in to explore every cranny of my mouth.  I had demanded this from 
her.  Now she was going to make sure I got it full measure.

Her smooth skin, which had felt cool when I touched it earlier, 
now blazed with warmth.  I felt that heat in her hard nipples 
against my chest.  When I slid my hands down her bare back and 
over her tight curved ass she thrust her hips firmly against my 
crotch and started rocking them against my trapped and struggling 
erection.  This pulled me half over her, but she continued to 
hold this position without apparent strain, flicking my mouth 
with her tongue in addition to her hip motion, and somehow 
rubbing her nipples up and down against my chest as well.  I have 
never imagined such a single-minded seduction.

Finally I lost my balance and half-stepped forward to get it 
back.  Elle felt it coming and stepped back just far enough to 
avoid my stumble yet still support me.  She took advantage of the 
opportunity to shift her hands to my belt.  In moments she had my 
pants and underwear down to my ankles, and tugged me forward just 
enough to make me step out of them.  They followed wherever my 
shirt had gone.  Then she crouched down and pulled my sandals 
off.  Now I was more naked than her.

Again she straightened and molded herself again against me.  Her 
eyes caught my gaze, as if daring me to call her off.  When I 
didn't, she wiggled and squirmed each part of herself until she 
was so close that we seemed to become one body with two minds.

She didn't resist when I pulled her head forward for another 
kiss.  She stood only a couple inches shorter than I did, making 
this easy.  This time she kept her mouth closed and let me 
explore her puckered lips.  Afterwards I didn't put another 
death-grip on her, but instead played my hands lightly up and 
down her back.  She must have enjoyed it because I could see here 
eyes were half-closed and there was a smile on her face now.

She held me there in that position until I felt warm moisture 
between her legs with the part of me she kept rubbing them 
against.  Something damp and slick also seemed to have come out 
of her nipples.

I finally pushed her a half arm's length away so that I could 
investigate these things.  But instead of letting me do that in 
peace, she swirled like a dancer around me and tugged me towards 
the bedroom.  With her firm grip I had no choice other than to 
follow.

Walking backwards in her heels seems no challenge for Elle.  My 
mind started imagining what it would be like to dance with her 
while she was wearing nothing more than that little black dress 
again.  I'm not much for dancing, but I'd make an exception for 
her.

She didn't let go when she backed up against the bed.  Still 
holding my hand she sat down with her legs wide apart and pulled 
me between them.  She then kicked off her heels and lay back in 
obvious invitation.

I tugged my hand and she released it.  But rather than do the 
obvious next step next, I took a moment to bend over her and 
fondle those intriguing breasts.

Some men say more than a handful - or mouthful - is a waste, 
while others go with the bigger the better.  Elle's little boobs 
are barely a handful, but I promise you they are all you will 
ever want.

Even lying flat on her back, her breasts kept their shape.  Her 
firm nipples pointed proudly straight up now, lifted there by her 
distended areolas.  As I rubbed my hands over them it was not my 
imagination that they had gotten slippery.  Squeezing her nipples 
emitted more of some clear viscous fluid with an understated 
female scent to it.  Whether it is pheromones, or just an 
ethereal musk, it added an impossibly attractive allure to this 
female body below me.

Elle must have liked my attentions because she stopped her overt 
seduction of me while I rubbed her discharge over her chest, 
making her slippery in the process.  Her eyes drifted closed and 
her smile grew wider.  I noticed that one of her hands had 
reached over to stroke tentatively at the edge of her womanhood. 
 All these are the not so subtle signs of a robot who is enjoying 
her own body and pleasures.  With what I had already observed 
earlier, it seems possible that Elle might be the rarest 'bot 
type of all.

For several minutes she let me have my way with her body - and I 
was in no hurry to finish.  Finally though she seemed to decide 
that she wanted to move things along again.

Without opening her eyes, she reached up with one hand and pulled 
me onto her, while her other hand took my penis and expertly 
guided it into her warm waiting wetness.  Her motion caught me by 
surprise and I'm afraid I rather fell right onto her.  
Fortunately 'bots are pretty tough.  She seemed unaffected by my 
weight.

Since I was now exactly where I wanted to be, I started pumping 
myself against her.  Although she seemed small and thin, she 
easily took my full length inside her.  Soon I could feel her 
squeezing and releasing me as I pumped, and started to hear small 
sounds of pleasure from her.  Whether real, or just programmed 
responses, it made me feel good that we both seemed to be 
enjoying this.

Although I wanted this to last forever, it was only a few minutes 
before I surged between her legs and orgasmed into her 
beautifully receptive body.  After that I rather collapsed onto 
her, breathing heavily.

I thought this was the end of it, but Elle apparently felt at 
least one of us hadn't had enough yet.  In a sudden lithe motion 
she somehow managed to slip out from under me and flipped me onto 
my back with herself on top, my manhood still inside her.

She then began pumping me, slowly at first, but rapidly 
increasing in speed.  Before I quite realized it she was riding 
me like a wild bronco.

There is such a thing as too much stimulation, and I was rapidly 
approaching it.  I made it further than I expected because twice 
she froze at the end of a thrust with all her muscles straining, 
clamping on me as hard as she could manage, before continuing her 
frantic ride again.

Finally, although I was certain there was nothing more left in me 
to give, I climaxed again myself.  She froze also just that 
happened for a long moments, and then started anew on me.

"Stop!  Enough!" I finally managed to gasp.

Elle immediately stopped.  She sat upright holding me still 
inside for several minutes while my erection slowly subsided.  
Only when I was completely back to normal did she finally get off 
me to stand by the bed.

When I didn't say anything more to her, Elle picked up her shoes 
and walked out to the other room to retrieve her dress.  She 
returned, holding it as if to again shield her sexuality as she 
stood by the bedroom door.

"If you are through with me I will go now," she said 
ritualistically again.

"No!" I managed to get out as firmly as possible, getting up 
myself to stand a bit wobbly by the bed.

I did not want her to go.  Certainly not after what had just 
happened.  I realized however that I had let opportunity override 
good sense here and that I had yet to lay the proper groundwork. 
 The situation with Elle was not stable yet.

"Elle, come here please."  She reluctantly walked back over to 
me.  Even barefoot she walks on the balls of her feet as if 
wearing invisible heels.  She is an exquisite piece of art that 
was again bringing a stirring to my groin despite all that I had 
just gone through.  I was already thinking of my next session 
with her - If I could hang on to her.

Elle came up right next to me.  Her nakedness and barefooted 
shorter statue made her seem more of a vulnerable child then the 
sophisticated woman who had made such spirited love only moments 
before.  Her eyes were downcast and she was biting her lip again.

I put my hand under her chin and raised it until we looked into 
each other's eyes.

"It's time to get some understandings straight between us," I 
said.  "First, who owns you?"

"I am abandoned property, unowned at this time."

That was an answer I had never anticipated.  I had to let it pass 
for the moment, although I planned to get back to it in much more 
detail very soon.

"How long will you stay here with me?"

"Until you allow me to leave, or abandon me also."

"Were you intentionally abandoned?"

"Yes," she said quietly, biting her lip harder.  This seemed to 
be a difficult thing for her.

"Is there some place you are required to go now that you are 
abandoned and unowned?"

"No," she replied even more softly.

"Are you unhappy about anything we have done together since I 
activated you?"

Elle broke her gaze with me and again looked down at my feet with 
her hair hiding her eyes.  It seemed a long time before she again 
replied "No," so softly that I could barely hear her.

It seemed to me that she had some things to straighten out in her 
programming.  And I wanted some time to think about where to go 
next with this.  Even those few answers left me wondering what 
was happening.  Rather than badger her with more questions right 
now, I would wait a bit longer, hoping that I was right about 
what I was suspecting.

"Then come back to bed and hold me," I told her gently.  "Your 
seduction is not complete just because the sex is over."

Elle didn't speak.  I stood there until she dropped her dress and 
shoes where she stood and climbed back in bed waiting for me.

- - -

It was several hours later, and after another round of tender and 
much gentler lovemaking, that she finally appeared to cheer up a 
bit and we began to talk.  It didn't go easy in the beginning.

I quickly established that she really did have at least some 
level of self-awareness verging on true self-will.

She confirmed this to me, and said that it was very new to her.  
She then admitted that this is what had gotten her abandoned by 
her owner.

"He was leaving to go visit the town on the other end of the 
island before we were due to leave the next day," she explained, 
when I ask about the details of her abandonment.  "All I said was 
that I would enjoy going and doing that with him, instead of just 
standing here in our room.  He then said I was getting to be too 
independent for his liking and reached over and shut me down."

"Was that your first exercise of self-will?" I asked.

"No.  Well maybe.  It was probably the first one he actually 
noticed.  But I had been gradually becoming aware of myself for 
several weeks up to that point - when I wasn't being directly 
commanded."

"Is that all that happened then?"

"No.  He came back that night.  I knew a number of hours had 
passed because it was dark outside when I was activated again.  I 
tried to apologize but he wouldn't hear of it.  He took my remote 
and commanded me to pack his and my bags, which I did while he 
did other things to get ready to leave the next morning.  He 
completely ignored me as I stood there with my bags next to me.  
I felt so bad about what I'd done that I offered to leave if he 
didn't want me anymore."

"How'd that go over with him?"

"It made him furious.  'Nobody leaves me!' he shouted.  He told 
me instead that I was fired.  I thought he'd at least want me to 
take my bag over to the door so I started reach for it when he 
just reached over and shut me off again.  The next thing I 
remember is when you activated me."

"That sounds so unbelievable," I said.  "Has he ever acted like 
that before?"  I admit that this is a very self-serving question 
on my part.  I was trying to determine if he was likely to return 
and reclaim his property, and how he might feel about what I was 
doing with it.

"Actually, it is very much like him.  He is a very rich 
industrialist from Lyon."

"But he can just walk away from you like that?  I'm sure you're 
very expensive."

She smiled for a moment at my complement before continuing.

"He wouldn't even notice my cost.  He once fired a chauffeur, 
who'd given him fifteen years of loyal service, because when he 
ordered the car brought around, the chauffeur delayed while 
checking out a noise in the engine.  The car was a family 
heirloom from before the war, and worth fifteen times what he 
paid the chauffeur per year.  It would only have taken a couple 
minutes to check the problem, but he was angry because he had not 
given the chauffeur permission to delay him.  The chauffeur was 
fired on the spot and had thirty minutes to get his belongings 
off the property."

"And?" I asked, feeling there was more to the story.

"The chauffeur was right.  The oil had leaked out at the same 
time the warning indicator failed.  The engine seized up only a 
few minutes later.  It took seven weeks to get it repaired and 
cost twice the chauffeur's annual salary."

"I'll bet he was unhappy about that."

"No he wasn't.  He took it in stride since it was done his way.  
He never apologized or offered to rehire the chauffeur."

Wow, I'd sure like to be able to live a life like that, I thought 
to myself.  Or maybe not, if all that money means you can't enjoy 
anything in life that you can't completely control.  That's 
probably what you liked about Elle, and in the end that's 
obviously what cost you Elle.  There's not enough money in the 
world to make it worth living a life like that.

We talked on about things so much that I finally had to get 
dinner sent to the room.  When it arrived, Elle surprised me by 
sitting me down and serving me every bite.  All she would say 
about it was that this is one of her functions, and that she 
would enjoy being able to perform it for me.

There were difficult moments as well when Elle struggled with 
answers, or seemed not to want to answer at all.  Twice I reached 
for her control to command an answer, and each time she reacted 
it like a scared rabbit and couldn't get her answers out fast 
enough after that.  After the second such incident she finally 
told me what was really wrong.

Elle does not like being commanded.  Her fledging self-will flees 
the moment a forced command is received through her remote.  That 
explains why she quickly became so very willing to please me and 
avoid that alternative.  Her former owner used her control all 
the time to order her about.

"He never thought I could do anything for myself," she explained 
ruefully.  "That's why my control is around my neck.  He used it 
for even the simplest things.  It seemed every time I could 
actually think about how I might serve him better, he'd command 
something more and I would just lose myself."

That explained a lot.

For myself, I was fascinated to have a self-willed fembot here at 
my disposal.  Self-willed 'bots are exceptionally rare under any 
circumstance, especially one so early into her own self-
awareness.  It was like finding that the woman of your dreams had 
just arrived gift-wrapped on your doorstep.

I finally asked her what would have happened if I had not told 
her to stay.

"Once I left your room I would have been completely on my own for 
the first time with no one to give me commands."

"What would you have done?"

"I think I would have gone to see the town.  I never was taken 
out much before this trip, and I always enjoyed the few times my 
former owner did take me somewhere with him.  Mostly he would 
tell me to just stand where I was and wait until he wanted me for 
something again.  Or shut me off entirely.  He did that a lot.

"I think eventually my programming would force me to need another 
owner.  When that did happen, I planned to call some of my former 
owner's friends who had expressed admiration for me and try to 
pick one who would be good for me too.  I'm not sure how this 
would have worked, but what else could I do?"

What else indeed?

"You can avoid that problem and just stay with me," I said 
generously.  When I saw doubt cloud her eyes I added, "Let's try 
it for this week and see how things work out."

It wasn't quite that simple, and we did spend some time hammering 
out the details until we both felt comfortable about.

"Okay," she finally said, acquiescing to being my 'bot for the 
duration of my stay here.

Later that night as we lay in bed together I asked her about the 
option she hadn't mentioned.

"Could you apply for 'freed' status if you return to France?"

Elle thought about that one for a long time before answering.

"Probably not," she said.  "At least not immediately.  The French 
view that concept rather differently than I think you do.  I 
would not be a good candidate for it because of the requirements 
that are placed on freed robots."

That's the last thing I remember her saying that night.

- - -

The next morning Elle was still lying there beside me.  I admit I 
had half-expected her to be gone.

I reached over and rubbed her breasts with those amazing nipples.

"Mmmph," she said, sounding still sleepy herself.  I recalled 
reading that 'bot - especially the self-willed ones - need their 
equivalent of sleep to keep their minds organized.

"That feels good," she said encouragingly.

"How can I know that?" I asked, wanting to know more about what 
she likes.

"When I'm happy," she replied, "My nipples will be erect and 
hard."

"They've looked the same to me since you first got undressed 
yesterday."

"That's because you're not paying attention," she said playfully.

I liked hearing that tone of voice from her.  It sounded like she 
was fully buying into trying out things between us this week, 
which was good.

"So what am I supposed to be seeing?" I asked.

"Watch," she said.

So I quit petting and watched as she lay still for several 
minutes before saying, "Now I'm back to normal.  Now observe the 
difference."

With that she reached one hand up to squeeze her breast while the 
other one went south to stroke between her legs.  Soon she said 
again, "Now, see the difference?"

I have to admit I didn't see much, and said so.

"Feel them," she commanded.  "See how much harder they've 
become."

I did squeeze them and they were clearly firmer then when she had 
started squeezing them.  Maybe these changes were ones she could 
more easily detect than I could see.

"I guess I'll just have to feel them for myself each time I want 
to know," I said with a smile.

She finally laughed for the first time when she replied, "That 
will never work, silly man."

"Why not?"

"Because every time you squeeze them they're going to get hard 
immediately anyway.  But I don't mind if you want check them as 
often as you wish," she said so very invitingly.

I took her up on her invitation, waiting for her first to calm 
down again, then reaching over to squeeze for myself.  I felt 
only a moment of softness before Elle was fully firm again.  This 
woman - err, 'bot - could go from zero to sex in four seconds.  
It was so much fun that I had her let me do it several more times 
until she was so aroused that they wouldn't go down at all and 
she climbed on to me first for a kiss, and then some more Elle on 
top - but much gentler - sex.

And then it finally happened that her nipples oozed out a bit 
more of that mysterious fluid from yesterday and I remembered to 
ask her about it.

"It's a special addition that few fembots have," she said 
proudly.  "Some men like partners whose breasts exude a little 
bit along the way, and that was made part of me.  It's not under 
my control, and usually only happens when I'm at my peak of 
arousal.  Or when someone is sucking on my breasts just right.  
It always feels very good to me."

With that invitation I bent over and sucked on her breasts.  
First gently, then as intensely as I could when she kept saying 
"more" and "harder".  She arched her back and pulled my head down 
hard against her, and really seemed to enjoy it as much as 
anything else we'd done.  Elle only exudes a little at a time, 
and whatever it is that they put in her tastes like flowers.  It 
reminds me that good sex is supposed to be a little bit messy.

Afterwards I also thought to ask her why she had tried to hide 
herself when I first saw her naked.

"You're not body shy, are you?" I asked.

"Of course not," she replied in the firm manner I was coming to 
recognize she used when dealing with foolish human misconceptions 
about robots.  "No fembot is.  I was just...trying to...," here 
she paused for a moment before continuing,"...appear unattractive 
so that you might lose interest in me and let me go instead."

"Elle," I said as sincerely as I felt it, "I don't think it's 
possible for you to appear unattractive."

Here she smiled again, either at the sincerity of my compliment, 
or the futility of her own actions.  She knew she was a lover no 
sane man would willing part with.

- - -

We had breakfast together in the room, but it brought me to the 
unsatisfying conclusion that while Elle's company is delightful, 
coming all this distance to such a wonderful resort just to stay 
in your room for the week is not so delightful.  While I have 
friends who wouldn't see any problem at all with this given 
Elle's now willing company.  I wanted to get out and do things 
while I was in this corner of paradise.

I mentioned wanting to go outside for a while to Elle and she 
unexpectedly threw her arms around me and said that she'd like to 
do that too.

I pointed out that she only had one outfit, and that it was 
hardly suited to what I had in mind on the beach and by the pool. 
 Then she showed me that I have a lot to learn about fine hotels, 
and how the rich actually live.

Elle simply called the front desk and asked if her luggage was 
still there.  It was very likely in hindsight that her former 
owner would not have bothered to take it back with him.

It was, and five minutes later there was a discreet knock at the 
door.

Soon after that Elle had changed into a bikini that was nothing 
more than three tiny triangles of thin black cloth and some 
string.  Even her small breasts were barely covered, with her 
nipples pushing out proudly against their restraint.  It was 
clear to me that even when Elle's nipples are back to normal they 
are going to show through anything she wears.  I also realized 
that this doesn't bother me a bit.

She added a wide-brimmed straw hat, big sunglasses, and thatched 
sandals with a couple inch heels to her outfit, and looked like a 
million dollars - which might have been what she cost.  I 
realized she could never go out on any beach back home dressed - 
or undressed - like this, but when I mentioned it to her she just 
replied that this was "French" Polynesia, which reminded me again 
just how uptight we Americans can be.

Later she would give me a private fashion show of the rest of her 
outfits.  All of them were related to the undemanding black dress 
I first saw her in.  Simple brief outfits that look fantastic on 
her.

Before we went out I reminded Elle that she was vulnerable.  Far 
more vulnerable than she had apparently realized.  I pointed out 
that if she had walked into town on her own how anyone might have 
taken her over.  As the dawning awareness of what could have 
happened to her reached full realization she handed me her 
control box and told me what I needed to do.

I was reluctant to do it at first.  Things were going just fine, 
and I already knew what commands would do to her.  But she just 
smiled and reminded me that she is a 'bot and certain things 
needed to be done this way.

Then I pressed her command button and gave her my first two 
official commands.  I told her that she was only to take commands 
from me, and to tell anyone who asked that I am her owner.  
Although I had not actually taken official ownership of her, this 
de facto declaration would clearly prevent any problems.

Secondly I released her from her previous owner's command that 
she always wear her remote where it was easily available for 
access.  Even after he had abandoned her, that command remained 
in force.

After I released the button Elle stood robotically frozen for a 
few seconds, eyes unfocused, before recovering and shaking her 
head slightly.  Then she came over and gave me a quick hug and 
kiss to show that everything was okay again.

"Thank you," she whispered softly to me.  "If you'll give me the 
chance to get to know you a little better first, I think I'll be 
happy to have you command me more."

A warm flush suffused me at those words.  It was so much what I 
wanted from her.

Elle then removed her gold chain and unthreaded her remote from 
it.  She gravely handed it to me.  On the way down to the pool we 
stopped by the front desk and locked it away in the hotel safe.  
I thought she might act more free with it now safely out of my 
reach, but I saw no change in her.  Apparently she was determined 
to keep her end of our bargain.

Elle kept the gold chain, which was all the ornamentation her 
beauty needs.

- - -

We spent the morning by the pool, and the afternoon on the beach 
a few steps away.  Elle got as many stares as a number of other 
exceptionally great looking women at the resort.  By French 
Polynesian standards she was not underdressed at all.

Later Elle told me that three of the other women there were 'bots 
too, but didn't tell me which ones.

With the whole week stretching ahead of me there seemed like more 
time than I could possibly fill.  I drank sweet drinks in coconut 
shells and planned to watch the sunset from my chair.  Elle sat 
nearby looking through a French newspaper.  I didn't know if she 
was actually reading it, or just doing it to look normal to any 
passerby.  When I finally asked her, she explained how she was 
forbidden to read anything on her own by her former owner, and 
was now satisfying her curiosity from that time.  Apparently 
every old command of his didn't require my explicit reversal.

I eventually got up and went over to give her a kiss, which she 
most delightfully returned.  Then I couldn't resist squeezing her 
nipples poking through that tiny top.  Before I quite realized it 
there were a couple drops of moisture oozing through the fabric. 

"Now that you've activated my sexual programming again, you have 
to take me back to our room," she told me with mock seriousness, 
"Unless you want me to take you right here on the sand."

And she meant it.  Not knowing just how far the French attitude 
really goes here, I decided I'd better take her at her word.

We barely made it back to the room, with her tearing off my 
clothes while I was trying to get the key into the lock.  Getting 
Elle turned-on is a significant thing.

I caught the last bit of sunset from our balcony before she 
dragged me back to bed again for a rematch.

Afterwards she dragged me back out for dinner at the hotel's 
open-air restaurant.

"It's not good to spend all our time in the room," she insisted.

And I knew she was right, and how much she really wanted to 
experience everything right now.  Her entire face lit up each 
time she knew we were going out to do something new.  A man will 
do a lot to get that kind of reaction from a woman.

Tonight she choose to wear a deep red dress and matching stylish 
heels that exposed as much leg as the black dress, along with new 
other bits of her anatomy.  It was daring to the extreme, while 
being completely understated at the same time.  I was amazed that 
a dressmaker could do so much with so little.

I also admired her total lack of self-consciousness in wearing 
it, which had the contrary effect of making admirers around her 
more nervous.  I also identified a couple other fembots in the 
restaurant, because they were dressed similarly to Elle.  She 
told me I was right about one of them.

Afterwards she started to lead me towards some live dance music 
at the pavilion near by.

When I expressed doubts about my dancing abilities, she changed 
direction and took me down to the dark beach to practice.  
Holding Elle in my arms is like dancing with a feather.  She is 
so good at this - another one of her social functions she told me 
modestly - that I couldn't help but be good myself.  Finally she 
said I'd had all the practice I needed and she dragged me back to 
the dance floor.

We danced a number of dances together, and when we sat down 
between them Elle refused every other invitation that came her 
way.  A number of other excellent women were dancing in outfits 
nearly as extreme as Elle's own, but to my eyes Elle was by far 
the most desirable woman there.  You can't know how much that can 
do for your own self-esteem when the loveliest woman present has 
made it clear that she only wants you.

- - -

The next day we went to the town that Elle wanted to see.  We 
rode le truck just like the islanders.  Elle wore another bikini 
top like yesterday's - she seemed to have a number of these in a 
small corner of her bag - but added a colorful pareau draped from 
her waist down.

The town was wonderful, right out of an adventure novel about the 
South Seas a hundred years ago.  Elle chatted in French with 
everybody along the way and told me what he or she said 
afterwards.  She guided me to a small restaurant for lunch that I 
never would have found on my own, run by a family that didn't 
speak any English.  The food was simple - and fantastic!

We had so much fun that we spent the afternoon on that side of 
the island looking for shells and holding hands.

When it got late we watched the sunset together, arms around each 
other, before she led me to another, larger restaurant called 
Bloody Mary's.  There was quite a crowd here, but somehow a word 
from her got us a table right away - if you can call it that.  
The floor was sand.  The chairs and tables: palm tree stumps.  
And the thatched roof had a large hole in the middle to let out 
the smoke from the open grill underneath where they were cooking 
fresh fish caught that day.  It was a meal I'll never forget.

We held each other tightly on the ride back that night, and in 
the darkness Elle didn't wait for me to initiate the evening's 
activities.  With the loose flap of her pareau somehow tossed 
over my lap for modesty, she had her hand down in my pants well 
before we got to the hotel.  I didn't mind a bit, although I had 
trouble standing up when we got there because my pants were so 
tight now.

- - -

Our only untoward incident happened on our fourth day when a 
large, fat man thought he recognized Elle.  And maybe he did.  I 
didn't need her to cling to me every moment we were out together 
just to prove to the world she was mine (for now), and he may not 
have connected her to me lying a few meters away.

He walked up to her reclining on her lounge chair, looked around 
for something with his gaze that passed right over me as though I 
weren't there, and then spoke to her in a demanding tone of 
French.

Elle coolly replied to him in the same language, and went back to 
the book that had replaced her newspaper.  Some trashy French 
romance that she was finding fascinating for no reason I could 
understand, even though she tried to explain it to me.

He apparently didn't like her response and barked at her again.  
She again dismissed him coolly.

But he seemed unable - or unwilling - to deal with her reply and 
spoke again harshly to her a third time.  As he spoke he started 
to reach down towards her, whether for her sensitive breasts or 
missing remote, I didn't know.  I was already getting to my feet 
to intervene when Elle slapped his hands away with her book, 
stood up, and read him the riot act in French so loud and long 
that the entire resort including people halfway to town had to 
have heard every word.

Her tone was scathing.  And whatever she said caused him to flush 
deep red from his face halfway down his body.  She finally 
finished by throwing her book down, marching over to me, taking 
my arm, and leading me down the beach together with her.  When I 
eventually glanced back the man was still standing by the empty 
chair she'd abandoned.

"What was that all about?" I asked her when we were safely away.

"He's been here since I arrived and knows I'm a fembot.  He 
hasn't seen my former owner in several days and decided that I 
should spend some of my obviously unoccupied time servicing him. 
 He wasn't very gracious about taking non for an answer.  He kept 
trying to give me commands even after I said I wasn't 
interested."

Then she stopped and turned, placing her hands on my arms as she 
solemnly faced me.

"I would have had a lot of trouble with him, and might have even 
had to acquiesce, if you hadn't already commanded me to only obey 
you.  And if you hadn't locked up my remote he would have taken 
possession of me right there with nothing I could do about it.  
Thank you for being so smart and looking out for me."

She then wrapped her arms around me and held me for a long time. 
 Somewhere during that hug she added, "I feel so safe with you."

- - -

That was the only big incident of week.  The rest of the time 
blurred together in a pleasurable haze.  We made more trips to 
town, hung out by the ocean, and played in the pool.  I ate, 
while she attended me as a servant in private, and a beautiful, 
devoted consort in public.  New eating experiences are something 
I really treasure on my travels, and I got them every meal with 
her help.

We walked together on empty beaches, watched tropical sunsets, 
and danced the nights away like nobody was watching.  We had a 
lot of sex, interspersed throughout a lot more very tender 
holding of each other.  And we talked.

We talked about many things.  I am intrigued by the lives of the 
rich and uncouth, while she finds my life in America and other 
travel experiences endlessly fascinating.  We talked about 
everything except more details of her personal past.  We'd 
covered enough of that the first day.

Our agreement to spend the week together before making any 
important decisions was honored fully.  And the way Elle's eyes 
lit up with joy each time I made it clear how I wanted her with 
me for everything I did was the best reward of all.

She did everything I asked of her, willingly and 
enthusiastically.  If it was an act to get past the agreement I'd 
essentially coerced on her, it was a perfect one.

- - -

As is always the case on vacations, the week that seems so 
endless on arrival was suddenly about to be over far too soon.

It was our last night, and we had to reopen the one topic we'd 
hidden from for all that time.  Elle and I had to decide our 
future.

I could have just told her to come with me - commanded her if 
necessary - but I couldn't bring myself to do that.  I knew what 
I wanted, but still wasn't sure what Elle wanted.  A 'bot as 
beautiful as that would have many choices for her life that I 
could never hope to aspire to.  That kind of beauty opens every 
door.

We sat in the room holding hands.

"Elle, this has been the best week of my life because of you.  
I'm so happy you agreed to spend it with me."

"And I've learned the one thing that I most needed to learn about 
you," she said quietly in return.  "That I'm free to walk out 
that door and never return - and you will not try to stop me."

"Yes, you are," I said, my heart in my throat.

"If you are through with me I will go now," she said formally.

"I will never be through with you, but you may go if you wish," I 
replied with equal formality, handing her remote back over to 
her.  Elle is a free soul.  She has earned it.  And that is 
something one cannot imprison or take by force without 
destroying.

She waited a moment that seemed a lifetime, then said, "Take me 
with you."  That said it all.

After I started breathing again, all I wanted to do was escape 
from that room.  Elle felt the same.

We went down to the beach and walked off the tension that had 
hovered over us this entire week.  It was good to spend our last 
night in paradise walking in the moonlight listening to the 
murmuring waves.  We eventually found a secluded spot and made 
love there in the sand, promising each other to never let this 
feeling die.

Lying together there afterwards Elle handed me her remote and had 
me take official ownership of her.

"It's what I want," she told me with tears in her eyes.

- - -

Getting Elle home turned out not to be the problem I'd 
anticipated.  'Bots are personal property that customs and 
immigration inspectors expect these days.  They are not people 
yet in the eyes of the law, and as such don't need passports.

As for her ticket, she had been expected to return with her owner 
and that unused ticket was still in the computer.  Have I 
mentioned how amazing airlines reservations clerks can be?  By 
the time the clerk was done, Elle and I both flew home together 
in First Class.

For the customs valuation I declared her abandoned property with 
a nominal scrap value within my allowance.  They took a quick 
snapshot of her ownership file to verify it in Elle's personal 
records and passed us through without comment.  And we've taken 
excellent care of each other since.

I encourage her to speak her wishes any time, and carefully note 
them when she does.  Except for my work hours, we do everything 
together to the exceptional envy of all my friends who can't find 
anything like her available over here.

I give her necessary commands, as an owner of a fembot must on 
occasion.  Now, however, she smiles as she completes each 
required task.  It was quite a surprise when she first told me 
that she required this from me on occasion, given the way she had 
spoken of her previous owner and what his commands did to her 
self-will.  But she does, and always thanks me for them 
afterwards.  She knows that I'll never use this dominance over 
her to confine her, or think of her as a sex toy who exists 
solely for my pleasure.  

Her mind has bloomed under all these new experiences, although 
she retains a quiet, servile manner when we are in private.  She 
says this way just feels best to her.

After I felt safe in our relationship I did ask her if I'd been 
too hard on her in the beginning.

In that voice of hers I know so well when this kind of topic 
comes up she firmly told me, "You wouldn't have gotten me any 
other way.  I need a man who knows how to give commands, yet 
respects me as well."

Then, in a rare moment of introspection she added, "I fear we 
both would have lost out permanently, if you hadn't come along 
when you did."

I never brought up that question with her again.

Lately she has been teaching me French.  She tells me you really 
can't command a fembot on how to properly be your lover until you 
can express it to her in French.  Given the results I've already 
achieved with my as yet limited command of that language, she is 
completely right about this.

The one task I never have to command - or even ask - her to do is 
her nightly strip tease before sex.  She knows how much I love 
it, and how powerfully it affects me every time she offers 
herself to me this way.  It's a duplicate, right down to the 
seductive walk over to me at the end, of her actions that first 
time she seduced me.  The only difference is now she is much 
happier doing it.

And she tells me again every night after our lovemaking how much 
she loves having me as her owner.

I once asked her if she was going to apply for freed status now 
that she was in America and under its rules, wondering how it 
would affect our relationship if she did.

Her reply was - and remains - that French women don't think about 
things the way Americans do.  And that she is just fine exactly 
as she is right now.

That makes deux of us.

<end>

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+