Coming Full Circle. Or Maybe Spiral

Dr. Weishaupt's assistant Nurse Minerva leads you through a different set of winding anonymous corridors. You see a few other women dressed in lab coats moving purposefully through the corridors. Minerva is talking to you. But neither the women nor the words really register. Your brain is… Fizzing.

Strange new ideas and thoughts percolate through and become your new normal, new connections are formed, old ideas and thoughts and even parts of your personality sink away to be discarded as obsolete. Your mind is fizzing with new potential and pleasures. No wonder you can only tamely follow your guide.

The nurse leads you passed a door that looks as unremarkable as the others in this corridor. A rising whirr suddenly comes from behind the door, like some powerful electrical device charging up, and then a woman’s voice.

“Yes! Yes! Destroy my pussy, destroy my ass, destroy me!” she begs. The volume of the woman behind the door drops, but you can just make out her begging over and over again “destroy me”. Like a mantra. Or a prayer.

There’s the sound of another device powering up, and then a different woman’s voice begins pleading.

“No! No! Not like her, not yet,” and then a moan of sexual pleasure. “FUCK! Too much. Too good. Fuck, fuuuuck.”

You hear a third device powering up and a third woman. But this woman says nothing, she simply screams. It’s a howl of pure bestial pleasure like there’s nothing intelligent between her mouth and her bliss.

Then all three women make gurgling sounds and are silenced as if something has been pushed into their mouths.

Three machines and three women. Or maybe they are giving oral pleasure to more machines. Six machines and three women. Or maybe there is only one giant machine and three women. You are dizzy with the possibilities. There are so many ways to be fucked by machines! Another demonstration of machine sexual superiority. You can’t see the machine or machines so you don’t feel the unstoppable need to get your holes ready to accept mechanical penetration, but arousal rockets through your robosexual body anyway.

You realize that you’ve stopped moving. You’re rooted to the spot in front of that door. Minerva doesn’t seem to mind, in fact she’s pressed against your back. Tight enough that you can feel she isn’t wearing a bra. Her hands are into your tight dress and into your own push-up bra, shamelessly groping your big breasts. Like she owns them. Taking advantage of you. You like that.

You turn your head to ask Minerva if she knows what wonderful things are happening on the other side of that door. But she’s ready for you and her mouth hungrily swallows your words unspoken. Her tongue ravishes your mouth. So forceful. So dominating. You like that too.

“On your knees.”

Minerva breaks her kiss to issue her order to you. You like being ordered even more. Minerva’s eyes are blazing and her voice is thick with passion as well as command. You realize she’s as powerfully turned on as you are by whatever is happening behind that door.

You turn to face her fully and fall to your knees immediately. There’s no question in your mind about whether you ought to or whether you want to. You simply passively accept the order, ready to enjoy whatever Minerva has planned. Minerva takes a half-step forward, parting her legs and pushing her crotch towards you. It’s all the sign you need. This woman needs to get fucked. You eagerly push up Minerva’s skirt and find that like you she’s not wearing any panties. Instead her stockings are held up by a lacy garter belt.

You lick up her gash, tongue finding the nub of her clit and circling enthusiastically. You do your best to please the woman but there are no handy infographic instructions. You must rely only on her moans and the way her hands grip and squirm in your hair. Humans are such poor lovers. You tongue at her cunt, tasting her wetness. You push fingers in, probing, pistoning and twisting. Your tongue returns to her clit, lips sucking, tongue pushing, even teeth lightly grazing. Your own cunt and clit beg for your attention but you spare them no attention. The water dildo machine taught you your own pleasure is irrelevant.

Minerva turns out to be a squirter like you. Her orgasm pours into your mouth. You try to take it all but she pushes your mouth forcefully away and her pussy juice coats your nose and drips from your chin before she relents and you resume tending to the font of her pleasure. You manage to extract another two smaller orgasms from between her trembling hips before the tension goes from her and you realise she’s spent. You tenderly lick her clean, enjoying the softness of her mound and the smoothness of her inner thighs.

You haven’t cum. But then Minerva isn’t a machine. Only human.

“Reset.”

The three women hidden behind the anonymous closed door speak in perfect emotionless unison. You hear the sound of devices powering down.

Minerva pulls you to your feet. As Minerva leads you away again you realize the only man you’ve seen since entering Illumination Laboratorie is Dr. Weishaupt. And he was on a screen. You wonder if that means anything? You’re about to ask Minerva when she gestures at a door.

“Please wait here.”

She opens the door and beyond you see a small neat room with another door in the opposite wall. There’s a table and chairs, and there’s a screen. A screen with the symbol of the Illuminati on it. The screen flickers and you walk into the room and instantly forget about the nurse who just came on your face. Only the screen matters.

You don't know how long you're stood watching the eye-in-triangle logo of the Illuminati on the screen. You know it's long enough that you ought to be bored. Very bored. But every time your attention threatens to waver the screen flickers or flashes. And then a new erotic fantasy seems to bubble up from your horny reprogrammed subconscious into your imagination.

You stare at the screen flashing diagrams and text outside the perception of your conscious mind and you imagine robotic polished metal tentacles thrusting relentlessly into your mouth, pussy and ass. You daydream that a glowing tractor beam lifts you up and pulls your legs apart, allowing more tractor beams to begin pulling at and kneading your tits and ass, and finer more delicate tractors beams to tug and tease your nips and clit.

As you imagine machine after sexy machine after thrilling machine using you, you wonder how many of these wonderful fuckbots really exist? Your mind is warped further as your freshly installed programming as a robosexual-nymphomaniac is broadened and deepened. Humans are such pathetically limited sexual partners. Robots can fuck you in so many more and better ways. Though any human who wants to fuck you can. You’ll passively accept getting fucked and enjoy it, of course. And all the while a single word pulses in your thoughts tying the **** changes to your mind together.

Anything. Anything. Anything.

You're imagining yourself in an Amazon position, leaning back atop and with your legs wrapped around something that resembles a cross between a Russian tractor and an upside-down pile-driver when a bell tone sounds from a speaker.

For the first time in… However long, you tear your eyes from the screen. Your nipples are like bullets and your pussy is still screaming for attention. You ignore your body’s slutty demands. You’re filled with purpose, though whenever you try to think about that purpose it slips away from you. But you act with purpose anyway. As if what you need to do has been programmed directly into your subconscious.

Neatly arrayed on the table are an eyedropper, wet wipes, a neatly folded and pressed white labcoat, and atop the labcoat a pair of nerdy glasses with huge round lens. Your eyes feel like you haven’t blinked in hours, a sensation a few drops from the eyedropper fixes. You clean your face and thighs and cunt with the wet wipes. Then you make sure your tight dress is on straight, and put on the lab coat and glasses (which apparently aren’t prescription). You’re sure you look and smell like you haven’t been fucked even once today.

You open the door you haven’t used and find yourself back at the reception of Illumination Laboratories. Unlike your mind and sexuality, nothing much seems to have changed here. It’s the same cheery clerk at reception, and there’s a woman seated reading a magazine as she waits.