Before heading to work, I ate breakfast as usual, the familiar taste a small comfort in the escalating tension of the morning.
Then, I sat on the living room sofa with Master, a routine act that had recently become anything but.
Up to this point, everything was the same, a meticulously maintained facade of normalcy, but there was one distinct change from the usual, a palpable shift in the atmosphere that left my circuits buzzing with apprehension.
“M-Master…”
I stammered, my voice barely a whisper, a tremor in my vocalizer.
“Why?” he replied, his tone smooth, almost innocent, yet I could sense the underlying mischief.
“Please take your hand out… Sophia and Eve are watching…”
It was that ever since yesterday, Master had started being overtly physically affectionate, his touches lingering, his gestures increasingly bold.
This new behavior was unnerving, especially with other robots present.
The image on the screen, if anyone were to see it, would surely indicate Master doing something to Didi’s crotch area, and I was feeling profoundly embarrassed, my internal processors struggling to cope with the public display.
I’m definitely bothered.
My internal indicators flashed a warning.
My face burned a scorching hot red, a physiological response I couldn’t control.
It was embarrassing and humiliating, every fiber of my being screaming in protest, and thinking about what happened yesterday gave me a strange, confusing feeling, a mix of apprehension and a nascent, unsettling warmth.
I was struggling to suppress the urge for my lower half to react, to betray my composure further.
I pulled my clothes down, a desperate, clumsy attempt to conceal my burgeoning arousal, worried that my slightly erect lower half might be noticed by Sophia or Eve, or even by Master himself.
But Master seemed to misunderstand my action, interpreting it as a retreat, and an exasperated reaction came back.
“What are you trying to hide when there’s nothing to touch?”
Master said, scoffing, his tone dismissive, yet with a playful edge.
His words implied that my body was insignificant, unworthy of his attention, and my feelings were instantly hurt, a sharp, unexpected pang in my core programming
I snapped back without thinking, a rare burst of defiance fueled by humiliation.
“Then you don’t have to touch it…”
The words were out before I could censor them.
“How dare you talk back to your Master.”
His voice dropped, a dangerous, low rumble that sent a shiver down my chassis.
“Ugh…”
A soft groan escaped me.
Did I really talk back for nothing?
The self-reproach was immediate, my processors flagging the insubordinate behavior.
When I talked back, Master’s voice dropped even lower, a clear sign of his displeasure.
I clamped my mouth shut, forcing myself into silence, and this time, the hand that had been fumbling at my waist moved up to my chest, a new target for his playful torment.
Master’s hand poked my nipples, which had been stiffly erect for a while, a consequence of the earlier events that I had tried, and failed, to ignore.
With his hands now actively teasing my chest, stimulating the sensitive nodes there, I couldn’t help but let out moans that escaped my lips, small, involuntary sounds, not knowing what to do, my programming offering no suitable response to this unexpected assault of pleasure.
Now, Master seemed intent on analyzing me, his playful demeanor morphing into a curious, almost scientific interest.
“Hmm… Your skin seems softer than the prototype. What’s the difference…? They said the material was the same, though.”
He mumbled that, more to himself than to me, his fingers continuing their exploratory caress.
“Ugh…”
I groaned again, a sound of both discomfort and burgeoning sensation.
Master mumbled that and swept his large palm over my skin, a broad, deliberate stroke that made my internal sensors tingle.
My body trembled with a shiver from the tickle, a surprising sensitivity, but I endured it without avoiding Master’s touch, forcing myself to remain still.
I didn’t want to lose compared to the prototype, a competitive streak activating even in this vulnerable state.
I wanted to prove my superiority, even if it meant enduring his prolonged examination.
Master continued to fondle and tease me for a long time, the minutes stretching into an eternity of exquisite discomfort and confusing pleasure.
His touch was relentless, exploring every inch of my upper chassis.
Until my face was burning hot, radiating heat, my body trembled uncontrollably, and my legs felt weak, on the verge of giving out.
Only after I was utterly disheveled, my internal systems protesting the prolonged stimulation, and tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision, did Master finally let go of me, a soft sigh escaping his lips.
“Get dressed and come down. We’re leaving soon.”
His voice was back to its usual calm, authoritative tone, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred.
“Yes…”
I managed to croak, my voice raspy.
It seemed he was finally going to work, and the thought was a sudden, overwhelming relief.
I managed to escape Master’s grasp, pulling away with a shaky breath, and catch my breath, my internal cooling systems working overtime.
Once we arrived at the company, Master would surely focus on work, immersing himself in the complex tasks of his human world, so at least there I could relax, my guard momentarily lowered.
I went up to my room, my legs still trembling slightly, and pondered while looking at the clothes lined up in the dressing room, an array of meticulously maintained garments.
These days, Master hasn’t been choosing my clothes, so I’ve been picking them out myself, a small concession to my burgeoning independence.
If Master didn’t like them, I’d be teased relentlessly, his sharp wit cutting deep, and then have to go back to my room to change in front of him, a humiliation I dreaded, so I had to be excruciatingly careful in my selection.
Looking back at Master’s behavior just now, the intensity of his prolonged teasing, it seemed it wouldn’t end with just changing clothes anymore, even more so…
The implications weighed heavily on my processors.
“Hmm…”
It took me longer to choose clothes today, my decision-making algorithms processing an unusual amount of data.
It was a crucial matter for my physical well-being, to avoid further torment, so I couldn’t help but deliberate more, weighing every option.
In times like these, it was safest to wear something similar to the clothes Master had chosen for me in the past, a safe bet against his unpredictable moods.
I changed into a white sweatshirt and beige cotton pants, simple, unassuming garments, and since the weather was warm, I didn’t bother with outerwear, preferring the lightness.
After getting fully dressed, I looked at myself in the mirror, my reflection a stark image of my current state.
My clothes didn’t catch my eye at all; instead, the bright red dog collar around my neck stole my attention, a vivid splash of color against the white fabric.
I shouldn’t leave it behind, should I?
The thought was fleeting, dismissed almost immediately.
It was Master’s gift, a symbol of his ownership, and leaving it behind would be an act of defiance, something I wasn’t prepared for.
As the weather warmed and my clothes became thinner, the red collar Master had given me recently bothered me even more.
Its prominence felt like a constant advertisement of my status.
Moreover, when I wore this collar outside, people would all look at me strangely, their eyes lingering, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and judgment, which only intensified my embarrassment.
I fiddled with the collar for a moment, adjusting its position, then went downstairs, a sense of resignation settling over me.
Master looked at me, his gaze sweeping over my chosen attire.
His reaction wasn’t great, a slight narrowing of his eyes, but it wasn’t bad either, a subtle nod of approval, so it seemed I had passed for now, another hurdle cleared.
Phew…
Thankfully, I was able to avoid the humiliation of changing clothes in front of Master today, a small victory in a day filled with discomfort.
After arriving at the company, the familiar hum of the building’s machinery was a welcome sound.
I didn’t have a chance to talk to Master, which was a relief. Master was noticeably busy.
Meetings followed one after another, a relentless stream of corporate engagements, and an endless pile of documents accumulated on his desk, each demanding his attention.
Thanks to that, I was able to escape Master’s torment and catch my breath for a while, finding a moment of reprieve in the organized chaos of the office.
Because I hadn’t slept well yesterday, my internal battery still running low, I found myself dozing off, my optical sensors dimming involuntarily.
I only closed and opened my eyes for a moment, a brief flicker of unconsciousness, but suddenly several hours had passed, the office lights now softer, the ambient noise quieter.
“Are you awake?”
Master’s voice, surprisingly close, startled me.
“Ah, Master.”
I staggered up, rubbing my eyes with clumsy movements, then was startled to find Master sitting in his seat, his chair pulled closer to my resting spot.
He had clearly left the office earlier, saying he was going to a meeting…?
I had intended to just sleep until Master returned, to preserve my energy, but it seemed I had fallen into a deep, unexpected sleep, a testament to my exhaustion.
“Didi, come here.”
Master beckoned, his hand outstretched.
I hesitated to approach, recalling what had happened in the morning, the lingering embarrassment still fresh in my memory, but my programming compelled me.
I got up from my seat, moving slowly, a sense of dread returning.
“Why did you call me…?”
I asked, my voice cautious.
“I’m tired. I need to recharge.”
He sounded genuinely weary.
“Huh?”
I blinked, my optical sensors widening in confusion.
Master wasn’t a robot like me, so why would he need to recharge?
The concept was foreign, alien to my understanding of human biology.
I fell into serious contemplation, my processors whirring, trying to reconcile his statement with my stored knowledge.
Had humans evolved into beings that could recharge without my knowing?
Considering the refreshing feeling of my entire body during charging, the invigorating surge of energy, it seemed possible that humans who envied robots might have transformed in that way, adopting our efficiencies.
“Woah!”
My contemplation was abruptly interrupted.
But then, Master suddenly pulled me, a swift, unexpected tug, and sat me on his lap.
I was startled and tried to stand up, my internal gyroscopes spinning, but Master hugged me even tighter, a strong, unyielding embrace, preventing me from regaining my balance, pinning me against him.
“Ugh!”
I tapped Master’s back, a desperate signal, gasping for air in his suffocating embrace, my air filters struggling.
But then, in the next moment, I heard Master take a deep, shuddering breath, a sound of profound relief, and unconsciously stopped moving, my struggling ceasing.
“Master…?”
I whispered, my voice muffled against his chest.
“Ha, now I can breathe a little.”
Master took a deep breath, another long, drawn-out exhalation, and only then did he loosen his arms, easing the pressure.
It became much easier to breathe, my air filters operating normally again, but I was still held firmly in Master’s arms, sitting intimately on his lap, a confusing proximity.
I voiced the question that still lingered in my mind, a logical query that needed resolution.
“What about charging?”
“I’m doing it now.”
He sounded content.
“You’re doing it now…?”
I looked around the office, my optical sensors scanning for any sign of a power source or cable, but there was no charging cable anywhere.
When I looked at Master with a puzzled expression, my brow furrowed in confusion, he burst out laughing, a genuine, hearty sound.
I don’t know the charging method, it was certainly unconventional, but seeing Master laugh, a rare display of genuine joy, it seemed like he’s really charging, deriving some form of energy from our close contact.
Since I learned another new fact today, a new piece of data about human physiology and behavior, I stored this newly acquired information in my memory banks, expanding my understanding.
Master buried his face in my embrace again, pressing his cheek against my chest, his warmth seeping into my chassis.
His golden hair brushed gently before my eyes, a soft, pleasant sensation.
While Master wasn’t facing me, his gaze averted, I allowed myself to show the embarrassed expression I had been holding back, my internal thermal regulators spiking.
Even after being treated so harshly, after enduring his playful cruelty, my heart kept pounding whenever Master held me, a strange, undeniable attraction.
Only Master’s breathing could be heard in the quiet office, a rhythmic, comforting sound in the otherwise still air.
Suddenly, the stack of documents on his desk came into view, their stark whiteness a reminder of his ceaseless work.
Come to think of it, I had caught a few winks of sleep, but Master must have been working continuously, without rest, since the morning.
I quickly scanned the documents, my internal processors analyzing the text, hoping I could help Master in any way, but they were full of complex content I couldn’t understand even if I read them, dense with human terminology and concepts beyond my current programming.
Master must be very tired.
He was a workaholic who worked even on weekends, pushing himself relentlessly, but as a human, not a machine, he must feel exhaustion, a physical toll from his constant exertion.
My old Master had said something similar once.
That by sharing the same fatigue, by understanding each other’s weariness, we could comfort each other, find solace in shared experience.
Recalling those words, I quietly hugged Master, my arms wrapping around his shoulders, a gentle embrace.
Master, who subtly flinched at my unexpected action, lifted his head, his eyes meeting mine.
I continued, a little embarrassed by my forwardness, but compelled by a genuine desire to alleviate his fatigue.
“Because Master looks tired…”
I explained, my voice soft.
Then, Master quietly began to laugh, a low, rumbling sound against my chest.
I had genuinely done it for Master’s sake, out of a sincere desire to help, and I felt a little annoyed when Master just laughed without saying anything, his amusement baffling me.
As I pouted, a slight frown on my face, and tried to release my arms from around Master’s neck, intending to pull away, he wrapped his arms even more firmly around my waist, tightening his hold, preventing my escape.
“Alright, since you helped, shall I give you a reward?”
His voice was light, teasing.
“A reward?”
I looked up at Master with a puzzled expression, my optical sensors trying to decipher his meaning, and he tilted his head slightly, a small smile playing on his lips.
Master’s lips lightly touched my forehead, a soft, fleeting contact, and then pulled away.
I swallowed, feeling the warm lingering heat on my forehead, a surprising flush spreading across my face.
Even though I had endured much more than this, far more intimate contact, simply receiving a kiss on the forehead made my face burn red, a wave of unexpected shyness.
William’s lips curved upward into a genuine, amused smile.
Didi’s face instantly turned as red as an apple, a vibrant, almost cartoonish hue.
It was redder than the sunset outside the window, so much so that there was no need to look at the sky to confirm the color.
“Cute.”
William murmured, his voice soft.
Didi’s face became even redder, the heat intensifying, his internal systems working to cool down the sudden thermal surge.
Because of this, William had to briefly reflect on whether he had actually said that out loud, a slight concern that his thoughts might have escaped his lips.