MLEA Pt. 02

"Unit M.L.E.A., unlock," I commanded. Amelia's previously relaxed legs tensed and froze as she temporarily dehumanized to process the voice command. Had my ears not been so close to her groin, I probably would not have heard the barely audible click as I observed the barrier withdraw upwards, revealing the slick darkness of her copulatory canal beyond.

"Good, Amelia," I commended. "Now resume." At the pronouncement of her human name, her legs once again rested easily upon the armrests. I inserted one index finger slowly into Amelia's vagina as she continued to hold her vulva apart. I partially withdrew and re-inserted the finger a few times to wet it with her secretions.

I glanced up at Amelia's face to gauge her reaction. Catching my gaze, she smiled pleasantly while I stuck a second finger into her damp twat. "Mmmmm," she purred while I casually finger-fucked her. Even with just two fingers wedged inside of her privates, it was a snug fit.

"Ready to take my whole hand?" I inquired.

Amelia exhaled through her slack mouth in a drawn-out sigh, ruffling her pouting lips as the breath passed between them. Her pretty young face looked worried. "I sure hope so," she squeaked meekly. "Please, be gentle."

I held the four fingers of one hand close together and wormed the fingertips into Amelia's pussy. Her slippery internal walls resisted my intrusion more and more as I pushed further and further inside of her. She groaned as the first, and then the second joints of my digits gradually invaded her pelvis. There, they were halted, hindered by her limited circumference. I tried pushing slightly harder, and Amelia gasped. I could go no further. She was too tight.

"Try to relax your vaginal rings, dear," I counseled.

Amelia was grimacing, clenching her teeth. Her chest rose and fell rapidly in anxious waves. I waited, hand embedded halfway in her cunt, as the hidden mechanical constrictors which surrounded the length of her vagina—constrictors designed to massage an erect penis—gradually expanded to allow my hand deeper access to her pelvic cavity.

With Amelia's lovemaking tunnel now loosened like the disjointed jaw of a snake attempting to swallow its prey whole, I slid the remainder of my hand into her distended cunt. When my knuckles finished squeezing through the narrower opening into the more flexible tube beyond, the rest of my fist burst into her vagina in a quick thrust. She grunted as her vaginal orifice enclosed my wrist like a slurping mouth. Her eyes were shut tightly, her head thrown back and her spine arched. Her fingers grasped tensely at the skin surrounding her labia as she attempted to pull her labia open as far as she could.

Then my fingertips were touching her cervical opening. "This might feel unpleasant, Amelia," I warned. "Brace yourself."

"Go on. Please hurry," Amelia winced through grinding teeth.

Amelia's vagina was sopping wet now, slicker than oil. Resolving not to prolong the agony, I quickly shoved my hand up through her synthetic cervix, feeling it dilate around my fingers as they passed through. My forearm slid up into Amelia's vagina with surprising ease, given the previous ordeal. "Aaaaah!" I heard Amelia exclaim in a tone that strangely expressed something other than pain.

Her straining genitals engulfed my arm nearly up to my elbow. Her labia were stretched taut like a rubber band pulled nearly to the limits of snapping, firmly gripping the girth of the limb that was penetrating her sex. With my hand buried so deeply inside of Amelia, her vulva's features were perturbed so far beyond normal proportions that they were hardly recognizable anymore.

"We're almost done now," I apologized as I felt hard, dry surfaces beyond the soft and flexible wetness of her cervical passage. My fingers found three rubbery bumps. I rotated my wrist into a more advantageous position. Amelia's blouse had crept upward as she had squirmed. While I groped around her insides, I could see the skin of her belly bulge out over the places where my hand was positioned.

With an expression more of awe than of agony, Amelia watched, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, as the lump of abdominal flesh moved around her tummy. "I can't believe that your whole hand fits inside me!" she half-laughed with breathless exasperation. Her machine learning probably had not prepared her for any encounter similar to this one (as the training data had, as far as I recalled, lacked any fisting episodes), so her emotions now were understandably improvised with what might be less authenticity than usual.

Having access to Amelia's internal controls presented some rare opportunities that I decided that I ought to take. I pressed one of the buttons inside of her, holding it down for a few seconds. Moments later, two thin jets of liquid sprayed out of Amelia's nipples through the fabric of her blouse, drenching it. I released the button and the twin fountains died away. "Diagnostics," I grinned mischievously. "You passed."

Amelia looked shocked. She had never consciously "lactated" before, if the forceful emission could be called that. Unlike a mother's milk, the fluid that her breasts secreted was bereft of any nutritional value.

Then I held down two of the buttons at the same time. Shortly, Amelia's mouth began to work, oddly twisting into different shapes and calling out a stream of various phonemes—essentially all of those that she was capable of producing vocally—in a meaningless sequence. Her eyes expressed confusion as she apparently struggled to comprehend her loss of control over her speech, even as her babbling continued. I reminded myself that she wouldn't remember any of this following the reset.

I released the buttons, and the vocal demonstration ended. With my whole forearm embedded within Amelia's cunt, and with my hand controlling her actions from within her body cavity, she had become very much a sock puppet, though one that possessed awareness that she was being controlled.

Satisfied then that Amelia's systems were in good maintenance, I rapidly entered a memorized combination by deftly and repetitively tapping the three internal buttons in a specific order. Amelia suddenly shuddered and convulsed violently, her ass lifting up off the cushion, her pubic interface bucking against my elbow. Her toes curled. Her hands flew out to grasp blindly at the armrests. Her ruddy mane whipped about. Her eyes opened wide, eyelids fluttering wildly, and her mouth gaped with surprise.

"Oh! Oh! Ohhhhhhhh..." Amelia cried out. As she did so, her voice degenerated from that of a woman into harsh, digital, synthesized machine tones, falling in pitch and volume.

Then she went still. Her mouth drooped open. Her eyes stared straight ahead at nothing. Her hair was a mess. I felt her vagina relax completely around my arm.

I pulled my hand out of her limp body. As I began to withdraw, my fingertips brushed against another interface, deep inside of Amelia, that I had almost forgotten existed. It was an experimental interface, a minor concavity in the rigid surfaces beyond Amelia's cervix, which I had never used.

As my hand slipped from inside of her, her vulva shrank back into form, like the petals of a flower closing. From my fingertips to my elbow, my skin glistened with Amelia's pussy juice. I watched as her orifice contracted back to its normal size.

A minute passed while Amelia remained a lifeless doll, sprawled half-naked in the chair. I brushed her hair back from the pristine, porcelain-colored skin of her forehead. Her flesh was still warm. She was serene, beautiful. I knew that the reboot would take some time to complete; many basic systems needed to initialize before higher function could be restored.

Her eyes gradually closed. Beneath her damp blouse, her breasts began to rise and fall in a lazy rhythm as her emulated breathing resumed. I gathered her up from her peaceful repose and placed her face up on the sheet of her bed. I finished undressing her, tossing the wet clothing aside. I pulled a blanket up over her sleeping body.

"Rest now, Amelia," I whispered as I closed the bedroom door behind me. "Everything will be better when you wake up."

* * *

I was in the kitchen, cooking scrambled eggs the next morning, when Amelia's bedroom door opened. She emerged wearing a white nightie that extended down far enough to conceal her pert ass, but left her long, lithe legs uncovered. She smiled brightly and skipped over to me, planting a kiss on my cheek as I maneuvered a spatula about a skillet.

"You seem cheerful this morning, Amelia. Sleep well?"

"Like a baby," she replied, hugging me from the side and nuzzling her face affectionately against my chest.

"Glad to hear it." I wondered whether she recalled anything from the previous evening. I turned off the stove and removed the skillet from the heat. "Amelia," I asked, looking into her eyes, "how do you feel?"

Amelia shrugged. "Just fine, I guess. But I am a little bit sore... down there... and I don't know why."

I nodded with more understanding than she knew. "I'm sure the soreness will pass on its own," I assured her, deliberately avoiding a more total explanation. I sat at the table and began to eat breakfast. Amelia seated herself in a chair across from me. She propped one elbow on the tabletop and rested her chin in her hand, head tilted slightly, and quietly watched me eat. Though she could consume food, she didn't do so now. I had not equipped her with a sense of hunger that would be comparable to any ordinary person's.

"I have something I want to show you this morning," I said, finishing my plate. "Something that I've been working on for a while. Come upstairs with me." I pushed back from the table, arose, and walked to the stairs. Amelia followed as I climbed.

In an upstairs room, a rectangular glass box sat on a long chest of drawers against a wall. The box was open at the top, and the bottom thereof was lined with small wood shavings. A water dispenser hung from one side. A hamster scampered around within the box as I approached it.

"Amelia, meet my pet hamster, Noogie," I said. Amelia had actually already met Noogie, but she wouldn't remember that now.

"Hi, Noogie!" Amelia chirped brightly, squatting down so that her face was level with the tiny critter. Her bare white bum protruded from beneath her nightie when she crouched.

After placing some food pellets in Noogie's enclosure, I opened one of the drawers and removed two objects. One was a small battery-powered audio speaker, to which a wire was attached. The other object, to which the other end of the wire was attached, looked something like a child's sock with four tiny holes cut into it. Miniscule metallic studs dotted its surface like sequins. These were interconnected by a lattice of fine wires woven into the fabric.

I lifted Noogie out from his glass pen and stretched the larger opening of the sock over his rump. I pulled the fabric up over the remainder of his body as he squirmed about, attempting in vain to escape the temporary restraint. I tugged the little holes cut in the sock about his tiny little paws. Having dressed Noogie in this manner, I placed him back within his enclosure. He resumed rummaging about within the wood shavings. The wire protruding from the sock now ran up and over one wall of the glass box, to the speaker that sat nearby.

I turned the speaker and adjusted the volume by twisting a small knob. The speaker began to emit random soft bleeps and bloops.

Amelia was standing next to me. "What's that noise?" she asked.

"The metallic studs on the sleeve that Noogie is wearing are tiny integrated circuits that function as sensors and microprocessors," I replied. "They are able to gather all kinds of data from various places on the surface of Noogie's body. For example, they can detect temperature, moisture, and the minutest electrical impulses carried through his nervous system."

I reached into my pocket and took out a small peeled carrot that I had taken from the refrigerator while I had been cooking breakfast earlier. I broke off a tiny piece and placed it in Noogie's food dish atop some pellets. Very quickly, Noogie lifted his little snout into the air, detecting a new aroma. As he did so, the blips emitted from the speaker grew higher-pitched and more frequent. Noogie rushed over to his dish to begin devouring the treat. The speaker emitted a more distinct series of sounds and Noogie munched on the bit of carrot in satisfaction.

"The sensors are interconnected electronically through a mesh," I continued. "It creates a sort of network. The microprocessors associated with each sensor communicate with each other to interpret the data that they have obtained from different parts of Noogie's anatomy, and from different nerve clusters. In cooperation, the microprocessors are able to assemble a pattern that they then attempt to match to a database of stored patterns. Each pattern in the database is linked to a different sound, having a specific pitch, duration, and volume. At regular time intervals, the sound linked to the closest matching pattern is output, assuming that there is some stored pattern that matches closely enough."

"All so that you can listen to a bunch of jumbled sounds?" Amelia inquired. "That doesn't seem very useful."

"Well, these sounds aren't, especially," I admitted. As Noogie finished eating the carrot, the speaker resumed its previous emission of more random, quieter tones. "But notice how the sounds changed when Noogie smelled the carrot, and while he was eating it. Different sounds could be indicative of different feelings, perhaps even different thoughts, that Noogie is experiencing. With enough study, I might be able to determine what certain distinctive sounds mean, based on what Noogie is doing while the speaker emits those sounds. If I could guess the meanings behind those sounds, then I could program the system to emit sounds that more meaningfully conveyed Noogie's feelings or thoughts at any given time."

"Like what?" Amelia asked, looking up at my face.

"Like, instead of a series of high-pitched, frequent noises, I might program the system to say the word 'yum' while Noogie is enjoying a carrot." I poked Noogie lightly on his butt and a short, low-pitched noise burped from the speaker in response as Noogie scooted away. "Or I might program the system to say the words 'stop it' when Noogie gets annoyed. Using these techniques, I might be able to give Noogie some semblance of human language."

"Well, why don't you, then?"

"Hamsters have only the most rudimentary thoughts and emotions, as far as anyone can tell," I replied. "They aren't really capable of complex language. It wouldn't be the most productive exercise. But the system could be adapted to interpret the nervous impulses of a more intelligent animal, like a human being. By sensing a person's distinctive reactions to various stimuli, and linking them up to the linguistic thoughts that the person reported that she was thinking at the time that she produced those reactions, a very complex database of thought-pattern associations could be generated—training the system, really. Thus trained, such a system could be used almost to read a person's mind and report what she was thinking, based on the responses that her body produced."

"Yeah, but who is going to volunteer to wear a full body stocking for days on end while people ask her what she's thinking?" Amelia teased, cocking an eyebrow.

"Well, there could be a vast number of different self-reporting volunteers involved in training the system concurrently," I explained. "The results from different subjects all could be accumulated through the Internet over time to generate a central database. And the sleeve wouldn't necessarily need to cover the whole body. It could be placed around a particular body part—preferably one that was rich in nerve endings. It could be worn beneath a person's clothing as he went about his daily activities."

"Like what body part?" Amelia smirked.

I turned to face Amelia and grinned broadly, staring down at her with exaggerated lust. "Like my dick!" I roared with feigned ferocity. I grabbed Amelia around her slight waist with both hands and pulled her close.

"You're a huge perv!" Amelia laughingly retorted with a smile and wide eyes, breaking free from my grasp and jumping away. She giggled as she pranced down the staircase, her tight little butt bouncing beneath her nightie.

* * *

I worked at the lab later than usual that day. When I arrived back home in the evening, the sky was already dark. Amelia was sitting on a couch in the living room, wearing blue jeans and a white sleeveless top. She was snickering to herself as she tapped away with amazing alacrity on the screen of her mobile phone. The grin on her face suggested that she was in a happy mood.

"What's so funny, Amelia?" I asked, setting my car keys on a countertop.

"Oh, it's this guy who just texted me out of the blue," she replied, briefly looking over her shoulder at me before returning to her phone. "He insists that he knows me, but I can't remember him at all. He's really funny and handsome, though. I'm going to go out and meet him. I'm taking the car. I'll be back soon." And with that, she leapt off the couch, snatched my car keys off of the countertop, and bounded out the door.

"Wait, you left your phone," I called out after the front door shut behind her.

She did not return. I picked her phone up off the couch. A text messaging conversation still occupied the screen. The messages were sexual in nature, and highly explicit. The man with whom she had been conversing had sent her a nude photo, apparently of himself. The muscular man in the photo reclined on a bed, wearing no pants. He gripped his unusually large, erect penis in one hand. In the background, beyond the phallus that dominated the image, the man's overly serious face made a kissing expression toward the viewer.

I knew that face.

"Don," I muttered to myself.

Just then, I realized that I hadn't re-activated Amelia's vaginal barrier following her reset.

* * *

It was early in the morning when Amelia came home. I hadn't been able to sleep. The fact that she had been driving without a license—as there was no way to produce the required documentation for the D.M.V.—was the least of my concerns.

"Where have you been?" I asked as she attempted to creep stealthily through the front door.

Amelia appeared surprised to see me standing there. "I just went out to see a musical with my new friend, Don," she said nonchalantly, avoiding my gaze. Her eyes scanned the living room. "Have you seen my phone around here?"

"Did you have sex with him?"

Amelia squinted at me with disgusted incredulity, drawing her chin in toward her neck and crinkling her noise. "On the first date? No! Not that it's any of your business!"

I hadn't expected this defiance. I wondered whether her interactions with Don that night had modified her behavior.

"I don't want you to see Don anymore," I stated firmly, stopping short of directly commanding her. Although my gynoid was configured to obey my simple commands without question, a command to avoid someone's proximity likely would not be effective, due both to its complexity and the subjectivity that would be involved in its execution. Amelia could not be aware of Don's whereabouts at all times. If she were to flee from him in response to an unplanned encounter, the attention that the ensuing commotion might attract from bystanders—and maybe even law enforcement—might make our situation even more complicated than it currently was. Such a command also could have unforeseen effects on my relationship with her. If I wanted my experiments to continue, then Amelia would need to retain some sense of freedom.