MLEA Pt. 02

For now, at least, a command was an option that I didn't want to try. Hopefully, persuasion would suffice. Besides, I already had another way of ensuring that Don wouldn't be able to fuck her.

Amelia pouted, her brow furrowing. "Why don't you want me to see him?"

"I know Don, Amelia. He's not a good person. He won't treat you well. He will hurt you. He will break your heart."

She scrutinized me dubiously, tilting her head at an angle, folding her arms beneath her breasts, and shifting her weight to her back foot. "How do you know Don?"

"It doesn't matter," I answered, shaking my head. "Just believe me when I say that I know a good woman whose heart he shattered. I don't want you to see him again."

Amelia stared at me in silence for a moment, frowning. "I don't think you know Don at all!" she suddenly blurted out, clearly upset. "You're just a controlling tyrant! You're just jealous because you want to have me all for yourself!"

She rushed past me through the living room and down the hallway. I heard her bedroom door slam shut behind her. As I followed, I faintly heard the click of the lock on the door's knob, and was reminded.

"Unit M.L.E.A.," I called through the door to the gynoid beyond. "Lock."

I took Amelia's phone out of my pocket and began composing a text. "Hi, Don," I typed. "I really enjoyed our time together. Can I meet you at your place later?"

I tapped the "send" icon.

* * *

My car passed down a tree-lined lane as I drove into Don's ritzy neighborhood several hours later. Large homes sat on both sides of the street, spaced distantly from each other on spacious lots. High-end automobiles sat parked in the long driveways: BMW, Mercedes, Porsche, Jaguar, Bentley, Rolls Royce. Even small yachts occupied some of the driveways fronting the multi-car garages that I went by. From outside my window, I heard the buzzing of a hedge trimmer being wielded by a member of a landscaping crew.

When I had inspected Amelia's bedroom door earlier that morning after a couple hours of sleep, I had discovered that it remained locked. I had decided that it might be best to give her some time, and had departed, alone, to travel to Don's residence. I recalled the address from the motion video projections that I had viewed previously.

Recognizing the home that I had seen in the projections, I pulled up to the curb and parked. It was still hours earlier than the time at which Don believed he had agreed to meet Amelia, but I spotted his vehicle parked in his driveway. I exited my car and walked up a paved lane, between a pair of columns, to an ornately carved door into which long decorative fogged glass windows were set. I rapped with a heavy brass knocker and waited.

The door finally opened to reveal a broad-shouldered, sandy-haired man garbed in a red bathrobe, tied closed at his narrow waist. His tanned chest and legs were bare, suggesting that this was all that he was wearing. He peered down at me with a sour expression. So tall was he that he only would have cleared the doorframe by a couple of inches.

"Who is it, lover?" I heard a woman's voice—not Amelia's—call down from somewhere upstairs.

Don looked back over his shoulder. "Just a salesman, babe," he shouted back to the mystery woman. He turned his head to face me, glowering. "As you can see, I'm busy right now. Whatever it is you're peddling, I'm not interested." He began to close the door.

"I'm Amelia's friend, Don," I uttered before the door shut. The door stopped closing, then reopened. Don stepped out onto the porch and quietly sealed the door behind him. He frowned down at me.

"What brings you here?" he asked in a low voice.

"I'll get straight to the point. Amelia is my friend. I care about her. I don't like the way you've been treating her."

"My relationship with Amelia is none of your business."

"Amelia is a sensitive lady," I informed him. "She's really hurt when you see other women behind her back." I pointed upward toward the direction from which his current houseguest's voice had originated.

"I think that if Amelia had a problem with me, she would tell me so herself," Don smirked.

"It would be best for everyone if you just left her alone."

Don was silent for an uncomfortably long time. He put his hands on his hips and looked me up and down, eyes narrowing. Finally, he spoke.

"Look, dude. I know that you're really here because you want to get into her panties before I do, but a hottie like Amelia would never fuck a loser like you."

"But you think she would fuck you?" I asked.

Don snorted. "Get real, pal. Look at me, and then look at yourself. I tower over you. I'm ripped, and you're flabby. You're balding. Look at the cars in my driveway, and then—is that your piece of shit sitting out there on the street like a smelly turd?" He pointed past me to where I had parked. "Look at where I live. Do you ever own a house? I'm neck-deep in poon. You've probably never been laid. Amelia's probably your friend only because she takes pity on you."

His hands balled into fists then, and he continued, with unmistakable hostility but with control sufficient to prevent his upstairs companion from overhearing. "You have some nerve coming to my place. How did you even know where I live? You're a fucking stalker. You realize that I could pound the shit out of you, right here, right now," he hissed, leaning forward. "I'd be within my rights. You're no match for me, you little fucking nerd. Not in any way. I'm what the girls call an Alpha Male. You're just a weak fucking Omega."

I remained rooted on the porch. "You'll never have sex with Amelia," I stated calmly, not breaking eye contact.

"Who's gonna stop me?" he sneered into my face in a violent whisper. "Amelia and I have already made plans to go out again, and this time, she's gonna give up that sweet pussy. Now get the fuck out of here before I call the cops." He stepped backward through the doorway, back into his house, and shut the door with considerable force.

* * *

The sun was already setting by the time I woke up. Since I hadn't slept much the night before, I had decided to nap as soon as I got back to my apartment. I got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. Light shone from out of the open bathroom door.

Within the bathroom, Amelia stood looking into a mirror over a sink. She was wearing a skin-tight black-and-white striped sheath dress that accentuated her breasts and butt. She was applying mascara to her eyelashes. Pink color already embellished her full lips.

As I entered, she glanced at my reflection in the mirror for just an instant without turning her head towards me. She did not pause in applying her makeup, and shortly looked back to her own reflection. She didn't say anything to me.

I stood in silence, watching her for several minutes. She did not acknowledge my presence. I might as well have been invisible.

I finally spoke. "Did you talk to Don today, Amelia?"

"I talked to him about an hour ago, in fact," Amelia replied curtly in a higher pitch than usual, raising her chin and picking up a hairbrush. She still didn't look at me.

"How did that conversation go?" I asked.

"Fine," she intoned flatly after an inordinate delay. I waited for her to elaborate, but she said nothing further. She watched herself in the mirror, brushing her coppery locks.

This continued for about a minute before I lost my patience. "Unit M.L.E.A.," I commanded, and the familiar lights flashed in her pupils as she froze into a statue. Her arm locked, upraised. Her hand still gripped the hairbrush, her hair still entangled within. "Rehearse your most recent conversation with Don."

Amelia began to repeat her discussion with Don, in both her own voice and in his. Nothing but her mouth and jaw moved. Her eyes continued to gaze dully into the mirror, as though not seeing anything at all. Though the speech was laden with various emotions, none of those emotions registered on Amelia's passive face while she talked. After my unpleasant interaction with Don that morning, it was not only strange, but also repugnant to me, to hear her speak with his voice.

I learned from the repeated dialog that Don had told Amelia to meet him at a bar in two hours. He had told her that he had a gift for her: some sexy lingerie that he had picked up at Fredericks earlier. He had told her that he wanted her to model the lingerie for him.

Having heard the last of Amelia's previous conversation with Don, I commanded my gynoid further. "You are to meet Don at the bar. There, you are to invite him to come back to your place. Do not accept any invitation to go anywhere else. Once you and Don have arrived at this apartment, you are to bring him to your bedroom. You will not tell him that anyone else lives in this apartment. You may kiss him, but you are not to make any contact with his genitals. Do you understand my instructions?"

"Yes," Amelia replied robotically. "I will obey."

"Good girl. And one more thing, Unit M.L.E.A. Set a delayed execution order with event trigger. Triggering event is my entrance into your bedroom. Order is unlock."

* * *

I was working on my computer upstairs, reviewing data that mapped various linguistic concepts to stimulus reactions, when I heard the front door open downstairs. Male and female laughter heralded the entrants. I remained silent as I listened to the party make their way to Amelia's bedroom. The bedroom door audibly closed, muting the sounds originating beyond. I looked at the time displayed in the corner of the computer screen.

After spending about 20 more minutes verifying that the data were in order before the next phase of testing, I figured that enough time had passed for the amorous couple below to have engaged each other significantly. The noises from downstairs had quieted. I clicked on an icon that started a process running, and then crept down the stairs stealthily.

Slowly, I turned the knob on Amelia's bedroom door. At first, Amelia and Don did not notice the door gradually opening. They were both reclined on the bed, groping and kissing passionately, eyes closed, ignorant to their surroundings. Don's shirt was unbuttoned. Other than her shoes, Amelia was dressed only in a sheer black bra and panties.

I silently entered and lowered myself into the same loveseat upon which I had previously performed Amelia's reset, and waited. Finally, the kissing broke off, and Don sat up abruptly, startled to see me watching him.

"The fuck is this?!" Don demanded of nobody in particular. He turned to Amelia. "What is he doing here?"

I interrupted before Amelia could respond. "I live here with Amelia."

Don glanced at me, then back at his lover. "Is this true?"

Amelia just shrugged.

"Amelia," I said calmly, "it's time for you to come and fuck your master now."

Amelia looked apologetically at Don, pouting and placing her hand affectionately on his face. "Sorry, baby, I've got to go do this," she told him, in the same tone in which an adult comforts a child. She kissed him one more time, deeply, and then pulled away, sucking on his lower lip before finally releasing it to arise from the bed.

Amelia strode over to where I sat, her back arched seductively due to the high heels she still wore. Standing in front of me, facing me, she bent fully at the waist, keeping her legs straight, and pulled the sheer black thong down to her ankles. Don stared from the bed, mouth open, as he got a nice view, between Amelia's legs, of her bare pussy.

Amelia stepped out of her panties one high-heel-clad foot at a time, leaving them on the floor. She turned to face Don, then, with her back towards me. Don's eyes were wide open, and a large bulge protruded from the crotch of his slacks. Moving purposefully, Amelia shifted one foot and then the other, planting them apart so that she stood in a wide stance. She backed up a few steps so that her pert ass was right in front of my face.

Unable to resist, I reached up and cupped one ass cheek with my hand, squeezing her resilient buttock. With my other hand, I unzipped my pants and pulled out my hard cock. Don, apparently too shocked to speak, had a look of confusion on his face.

Still facing away from me, Amelia leaned forward and downward, spying my erection pointing up toward her cunt. Swiftly, using one hand, she parted her smooth pussy lips with her fingers while she grasped my shaft with her other hand. In one fluid motion, her hips descended as she impaled her pussy onto my dick. I heard her moan softly as she took my cock completely inside of her.

Grasping my knees, she bounced up and down on my stiff penis. Her pussy juices flowed out of her cunt and dripped down my balls.

"Mmm. Yeah. Ohhh. Oh yeah," she moaned. Don's face was turning crimson.

"Do you like my cock, Amelia?" I asked.

"I love your cock!" she gasped breathlessly, and slammed her cunt down on my cock harder and faster.

The wet squishing sounds of my cock thrusting in and out of her pussy served as background noise for Amelia's moaning and gasping. "Now go deeper, Amelia," I demanded. "Deeper than you've ever taken me before. As deep as you can go!"

Responsively, obediently, Amelia leaned all the way forward and arched her back severely so that her ass and tits stuck out. She clenched my calves in her hands and spread her thighs as far as she could. I grabbed her hips and pulled them down hard. Amelia whimpered as I felt my glans strain against, and then penetrate, her cervical opening.

Shifting just slightly in the chair, I maneuvered the tip of my cock into the concavity of the experimental interface that I had located during Amelia's previous reset.

"Like what body part?" Amelia had asked then.

"Like my dick!" I had replied.

Amelia stopped bouncing up and down, and kept herself firmly impaled on my throbbing boner. Her constrictors moved up and down the length of her vagina, squeezing and releasing in rhythm. Her pussy sucked my cock.

The sensors inside of Amelia monitored the minutest nervous impulse traveling through my hard member's nerves; the slightest change in temperature and blood flow; and the tiniest alteration in moisture. Every split second, her gynoid mind matched each combination of data thus received against a vast collection of patterns, some of which were associated with verbal concepts.

Shortly after I thought a sentence, Amelia spoke it, in her own voice. I talked through Amelia's mouth.

"You like being cucked, don't you Don? You like to watch, don't you? How does it make you feel, knowing that my master can get into this pussy any time he wants, but you never ever will. If you knew how good this felt for me, you'd understand why I could never let you fuck me. I only want his cock in my pussy. My pussy belongs to him."

Don was incredulous. "Why are you doing this?" he asked in exasperation.

"Because you're a douchebag, Don. You think you're hot, but you're just... not," I told him through Amelia's mouth.

I withdrew my cock from the interface and fucked Amelia harder. She panted as I pounded her fuck hole. "Fuck yeah! That feels great! Fuck me hard!" she cried.

Her pussy felt so good, wrapped tightly around my cock, that I knew that I wouldn't last much longer. "I'm going to cum now, Amelia! Lean back and spread you legs so that your boyfriend can see!"

Breathlessly, exhausted and drenched in sweat, Amelia leaned back and put the palms of her hands on my chest. She sat on my lap with my cock buried in her cunt. Then she lifted both feet high into the air, spreading her straightened legs to show Don my hard shaft embedded within her swollen pussy.

I ejaculated deep into her vagina, grunting as wave after wave of my jizz burst forth and flooded her insides. She shuddered and orgasmed at the same time, twitching and ecstatically crying out in synchrony with my pulsating dick, clasping my shoulders tightly with her fingers. Her vagina contracted rhythmically, the rings frantically attempting to milk every last drop of semen out of my gyrating schlong.

Finally, our spasms ceased. Amelia collapsed backwards on top of me, her breathing ragged and hard. My cock softened and slipped out of her. I felt my spooge leaking out of her twat and onto my scrotum. Don was glaring at Amelia angrily, fuming, silent.

"Amelia, go show your boyfriend the cream pie that I just gave you," I commanded.

Amelia dismounted and walked casually over toward the bed. Facing Don, she put one foot on the mattress and spread her pussy lips with both hands. From behind, I could see the cloudy white fluid seeping from her crotch and running down her legs.

"I bet she's just about ready for the next round. How about some sloppy seconds, Don?" I mocked.

"Fuck both of you! Psychopaths!" Don yelled, grabbing his coat and jumping to his feet.

"Wait, baby, don't go yet!" Amelia called, reaching out and brushing his shoulder as he strode past her out of the bedroom.

A moment later, the apartment door opened and slammed shut. Amelia turned and faced me. Standing defiantly, she placed her hands on her naked hips and pouted. My jizz was still leaking out of her damp slit, a long thin thread of it dripping into a puddle on the floor between her feet.

"Now what did you make me do that for? I really liked him!" she asked.

I just sat there with my flaccid dick exposed and wet with Amelia's sexual fluids. "Don't work about Don, Amelia. In time, I'm sure you'll find that he was entirely forgettable."