But the robot said, “If you wish to access my synaptic panel, I will require you to provide me with Authorization Code C-4.”
Uh-oh. Well, he had a electromagnetic pulse device (a “pulser”) that should burn out the robot’s brain upon application, he just had to get it out and trigger it.
But the robot noticed his hesitation and his movement toward his utility belt, a metallic hand came out and grasped his wrist, strongly enough that Steele wondered if it had been broken. His other hand came up to try to free him, the other robotic hand caught that one as easily, he was left with both hands high above his head as the robot stood up. God damn, the thing was about nine feet tall! And mean-looking!
“Without the Authorization Code C-4, I must now insist upon Security Code A-1.”
Steele gulped and remained silent. Caught! “All right, you got me.” he said. If the robot would let either hand go, he could still get to the pulser, he could try triggering it where it was and maybe that would mess up the robot enough to let him press it to the brain case.
But the robot was ahead of him all the way, a rod extended from the robot’s waist to grasp and remove his utility belt, it had a rudimentary sort of three-fingered waldo on it. The belt was pulled off his slim waist and tossed a fair distance away over the tables.
“You are an intruder.” the robot informed him. “Intruders are to be dealt with expeditiously.”
“Look, just summon the guards and they can call the police.” Steele said helplessly. “I’ll go quietly.” He struggled in the unforgiving grip the robot had on him.
“The police cannot be involved at this point of the operation.” the robot informed him. “That would involve a breach in security that could not be contained. All intruders are to be dealt with within the organization.”
A private jail? “All right, all right, lock me up then.” A jail was a jail, and he’d practiced breaking out of such for a long time. “I’ll go quietly, just let go, I think you’ve broken my left wrist!”
“Initiating security protocols.” The robot told him. “First, a strip search.”
Steele found that, while the robot released his wrists (neither were broken, thank God!), he was still restrained by a metal band about his waist that was linked back to that waist-rod that had held the waldo before. The hands now quite simply ripped the clothing away from his body, his cap and pullover and t-shirt first, then the band lifted him up bodily and his shoes, socks and pants were stripped ingloriously from his kicking body. The robot didn’t react to his struggles in any wise, ignored it with an ease that spoke of superhuman reflexes, when it grabbed his trouser legs to pull off his pants, he was flailing the legs rapidly, but they caught only the cloth at first try and slid the pants off his body with ease. The briefs’ elastic waistband was caught with equal ease and came away easily, though the material tore in the metal claws that the robot used for hands.
Now buck-naked, Steele stopped his struggles. “Okay, I’m nude.” he told the robot. “Can you call in your security guards and put me in that cell now?” This would make breaking out harder, but he had a small wire secreted among his head hairs, he could fashion it into a lockpick and...
As if reading his mind, the robot’s fingers went through his hair, caught the wire, and pulled it from his head, removing several head hairs along with it (not the robot’s fault, the wire was wrapped around those hairs to hold it in place).
“Yeowp!” Steele’s cry was both of pain and despair, he was truly helpless now, unless the cell they would put him in would fall to bare-hands burglary, he would be trapped until they chose to let him out. “All right, you got it all now, you.... Yeowp!” That was a call of sheer surprise.
The robot’s hand had clasped around his cock. Again, the massive metal paws moved with a delicacy that belied their speed, he had been free-swinging, the robot moved, and he was held firmly in the grip, no pain, no muss, no fuss.
“Security protocol override.” the robot told him, or nobody, or everybody.
What was this? “Override?” Steele gasped out.
“Initiating private subroutine Beta Zee Twelve.”
“What subroutine?” Steele realized what was going on, some sort of employee skullduggery, something had triggered a personal program installed in this robot. This could work out for him after all, maybe and....
“Uh-guh!” Steele’s cock was being manipulated by the robot’s fingers, in a way that rivaled his own personal attentions to that proud pillar of his manhood in his private moments of release and relief. He went from a flaccid, wilted-flower lump of flesh to a stout column of masculine majesty in two seconds flat, and everything after that was simple ecstasy! “Oh, God, what a hell of a subroutine!” he marveled. Had the venerable Dr. Sloane installed this routine in his robot, or had it been some frustrated, overworked assistant out to both show the great doctor his talent and get some joy out of a difficult job at the same time.
The band at his waist was able to both raise and pivot him without hassle, Steele found himself being lifted, turned around so that his back was to the robot, turned from vertical to horizontal, and the hand at his prick never missed a stroke. Then he was lowered so that he could rest on the floor on his hands and knees, and that took the rather uncomfortable pressure off his waist, the band slackened slightly and he was down, still trapped but no longer pinched. “All right, then!” he gasped as the hand continued its relentless manipulation of his prong. “You’ve got me where you want me, so what’s your next plan?”
He felt a probe at his anus and then the unmistakable injection of oily fluid of some sort. Suddenly, he knew exactly what the next plan of this metallic monstrosity was going to be. “Oh, hell, no!” He gasped out. “Robot, end subroutine, now, damn it, now!”
The robot ignored him, the next thing at his anus was a thicker metal prod that was similarly slicked up. What kind of robotic assistant turns their pet project into a fucking machine? Aw, hell, that robotic prick knocking at his ass was huge! He felt his sphincter being pressed apart, widening, and all he could do about it was howl! “Owoooooo!” he yowled like a wolf at the moon, but the wolf howls in triumph and mastery, he was howling in pain and humiliation! That rod was slicker than any human cock would ever be, it made progress that would have ripped him asunder if it had been an ordinary dong, as it was, it was gliding inside him, stretching his rectum smoothly in all directions at once, minimizing the pain, but not ending it all, no, not by a long shot!
Deeper it slid into him, Steele shrieking all the while. He was getting rap ed by a metallic behemoth, fucked by a robot dong! What sick creator made this monster’s tool, anyhow?
The steel prick finally stopped penetrating him at a depth that felt like a yard, but couldn’t have been more than ten or twelve inches, if that. Steele threw his head back and moaned. “Oh, God, take it out, take it out!”
“Initiating subroutine Beta Zee Fourteen.”
“What the hell is....oh, God!” Steele found out what this subroutine was, when the robot began to hump at his ass. That metal giant could have pounded him into hamburger with those thrusts, but they were handled with easy efficiency, he was fucked but not slammed into, though every thrust of those metal hips pulled that probe out of his ass to the last inch and then rammed it back in to the base again. And the speed, oh, God! The motions were those of the angels, they made him feel...so GOO-OO-OO-OOD! His cock which had faltered under the pain of the insertion resumed its rigidity and the hand at his crotch were manipulating him as adroitly as ever.