Chapter 5: DARPA Model 1 Prototype Combat Android

Being an android does have some privileges. Some men yearn for the ability to add length and girth to those organs which define their manhood.

Were it as simple for all of us to change one program parameter, you and I may choose to elect to become androids, as well.

Being an android does have its limitations, however, and the fact that as an android our personality can possibly be controlled by a mere switch is more than enough to probably make us shun the idea.

"Who are you?" he heard himself say. But it wasn't him!

"Stop joking, Michael," she said laughing.

He got up off the bed and stood to the side of it at attention. He could see in the mirror that his cock was still at attention, too.

"Michael, what are you doing?" she said, her voice sounding a little more concerned.

He didn't move, and stayed facing straight ahead.

"Who is Michael, ma'am?" he asked her.

Julie got up and stood in front of me, a look of disgust forming on her face.

"You!" she exclaimed.

"I am the DARPA Model 1 Prototype Combat Android," he said. "Do you have instructions for me?"

"Combat android?" she asked.

Michael had to admit, he was wondering the same thing.

"I am programmed for multiple combat scenarios," he continued. "Do you have instructions for me?"

Julie paused for a second and stared him in the eyes. Michael just faced forward.

A few moments later, Julie approached him. Michael stuck out his arm to hold her at bay.

"I need to make some adjustments," she told him.

"Very well," he told her, moving his arm back to his side.

Julie reached into his chest and moved the same switch she had flipped earlier back to its previous position. Immediately, he fell to the ground. She tried to grab him, but he weighed too much for her.

"Thank you," he told her.

"Michael?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed, getting off of the ground.

"What was that?" she asked.

"I don't know." he said, embracing her. "I guess I was built by the military. DARPA is the Advanced Research Project Administration."

"I like you better like this," she said.

"Me, too." he replied. "Do you have instructions for me?" he asked her with a wink.

After he said this, he could tell she was scared for a brief moment, but when she realized he was joking, by the wink, she shoved him back onto the bed.

"I do have instructions for you, Mr. Combat Android," she said wryly. "Fuck my brains out!" she said laughing, while climbing on top of him.

"At your service, ma'am," he replied.

Their marathon lovemaking sessions began. Julie spent most of her time sitting on top of him; watching the LEDs flash inside his chest. He made a conscious effort of looking at her: her tits, and down at her pussy riding his cock. He wanted to savor these moments; he had something special planned for these memories.

Julie brought him to orgasm, but as he came, he noticed something different this time.

"SEMINAL RESERVOIR: 8%" appeared in red text after he finished expelling inside of her.

"I have a fucking gauge for my cum," he thought to himself, somewhat disgusted by the distraction.

Of course, this got him thinking – how much cum did he have? What was it made of? Where did it come from?

When their lovemaking session ended, Michael walked downstairs and brought back up his two chest plates, the screws, and the screwdriver Julie had used earlier to remove them.

He carried them with him into the bathroom, closed the drain to the sink, and set everything down.

Julie walked in a few moments later.

"What are you doing?" she asked him.

"Putting myself back together," he told her, trying to position one of the plates in his hand while trying to hold the screw and screwdriver in the other.

He was having a little bit of difficulty.

"Here, let me help you!" she said turning him around.

With sincere gentility, she carefully positioned his left chest plate aligned with the hinges. Michael held the plate in position with his hands as she, for a change, screwed him.

Slowly, and carefully, she turned the screwdriver clock-wise driving the 8 small screws which held his left chest in place.

She repeated the procedure again for his right chest. Julie had forgotten to reattach the sensor cables, but he didn't mind. He stayed in the bathroom after she left, reopened his chest, and snapped them back into place.

When he walked out, Julie was laying down in bed reading a book.

"Whacha reading?" he asked, laying down beside her.

"Asimov's 'I, Robot'." she said.

"Good book," he replied, reaching over to kiss her.

Michael put his head down on the pillow, and laid down as if to watch TV. Instead of watching the television, he brought up his replay window and started rewinding his memories again.

He rewound his memories to frame zero. The time index read January 15th, 1997, 20:24 GMT. The picture was black.

"We've got audio," a voice could be heard saying.

"Great work Dr. Carson! What about video?" another said.

"Gimme a sec." said the first.

A few moments later, the picture became pure white, followed by a rainbow blur.

"Needs focusing," the first man said again.

Another moment passed. He could hear the sound of an electric screwdriver removing something very close to his head.

"There!" the voice said, as his face became clear. The man stooped down to stand in front of him.

Michael could hear gears and motors turning, beeps, clicks, and other strange noises.

"Welcome to your existence, Michael," the man said smiling, while looking into his eyes.

"Doctor," the other man said. "It is the Model 1 Combat Android. Not Michael."

"He'll always be Michael to me," the first man said; stepping outside the field of view.

"I expect a full report in the morning," the first man said. Seconds later, a door could be heard opening and closing.