Chapter 6: Slaves of the Fembots

In spite of her air of determined confidence, Amanda was feeling very uncertain. She didn’t really have much of an idea about what to do next and while she thought herself a fairly self determined woman who liked to get her own way, she had never taken a dominant role sexually. Even so, she knew that was exactly what was going to be needed here.

Perhaps, she thought, I can convince the fembots that I should take Gerry and Mike for “further training” or something similar or perhaps I can get them to demonstrate that they are fully trained and so can be released. The difficulty was that she was making it up as she went along. She didn’t have much faith in her ability to find the right answers and even less in the ability of the two men to catch on with what was needed.

Two of the fembots returned to the room pulling the collared captives Gerry and Mike along behind them on leashes. “Take off their gags and blindfolds,” Amanda said.

Gerry started at the sound of Amanda’s voice. He was confused. Why was she here? Was she part of Chris’s plan to help them escape? Was she somehow in league with the fembots? He grunted with relief as the gag was pulled from his mouth.

“Keep silence before your betters, “ one of the fembots snapped, “and get to your knees.“

Amanda took her cue, stepped forward and grabbed Gerry by the hair. He squealed. She leant forward, her lips close to his ear, and hissed, “Go along with this if you want to get out of here.”

“Mmm,” he whimpered, letting himself be forced down under Amanda’s grasp.

The assembled fembots gave a unified “Ah!” of approval. Oh well, thought Amanda, at least I am doing something right.

Gerry was frightened out of his wits. His wrists were sore from having been tied so tightly. His jaw ached from the gag. He had long since lost any idea of how to get out of his current situation. He was happy to let Amanda take the lead.

Mike wasn’t feeling any better. He’d had to cope with being violently snatched from the corridor by what had turned out to be one of these deviant fembots. He’d never been involved in anything kinky before and, when they had forced him to undress, he’d been horrified by what they planned next. He had been pushed into a room and told to put on the stupid maid’s costume. With three grim-faced fembots bullying him, he’d had not choice but to obey.

The whole business of getting into the outfit was overseen by the fembots. They had made sure he put on the knickers, corset, bra and stockings and then had watched him pulling on the maid’s dress, apron and cap. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so humiliated and the fact that it was mechanised dominatrixes forcing him to do it made it even worse.

Then they had set him to work, carrying trays of toys and equipment to help them while they worked on Gerry. Again, he didn’t like doing it but at the first sign of resistance one of them had struck out at the back of his legs with a riding crop, giving him such a stinging blow that he didn’t want to repeat it. He had quickly fallen in to obeying orders.

The really embarrassing thing was that Mike had to admit that Gerry had done a terrific job on the fembots’ body forms. The curves were in all the right places and it didn’t take much to forget that they were plasti-formed and not real flesh and blood. The zip-fronted spandex outfit that he had put the fembots in worked too as far as Mike was concerned. Actually it worked a little too well and, as he was kneeling beside one, staring up at her statuesque form and arrogant pose he felt his cock stiffening in enthusiastic response. No amount of trying to divert his attention with thoughts of other things succeeded and the problem kept getting worse. One of the fembots noticed the effect this was having on the front of his dress and told him to get himself under control. That didn’t help either and pretty soon all the fembots had convinced themselves that, while Mike be protesting vocally, his cock was busy saying what a nice time he was having.

“They are both weak willed males, you are right,” said Amanda. “They will require a great deal of training.”

“Yes, even the sissy shows how much he enjoys his treatment,” said one of the fembots. “They need to be shown that submission is the important thing, not their pleasure.”

“I’m not a siss ... OW!” Mike’s protest of masculinity was cut off by a riding crop blow to the back of his stockinged legs.

“And they must confess their deviance.”

“I agree,” said Amanda. “I must work on that with them. Perhaps you could let me have some time with them. When I have prepared them I should be able to give you a better demonstration.”

“That makes sense,” Alexa said. “Gerry always needs preparation for anything he does.”

The fembots nodded in unison. “We will leave you to work on them. We have our own tasks. To continue our production. Perhaps they can help with manufacturing too.”

“Yes,” said Alexa. “A suitable humiliation for them. To manufacture more of those that will be their mistresses.”

“Suitable indeed,” the fembots responded and filed out of the room.

“Heaven help us!” Gerry said as soon as the three of them were alone. “They’re mad.”

“No, just following a twisted logic.”

“Get me out of this stupid dress,” Mike pleaded.

“Oh no, you’ve got to stay like that until we work out what we are doing. Look the situation is this; Chris has tried to interfere with their software but he obviously hasn’t been able to yet.”