Mar 032021
 

Explorer’s Log: This is day twenty of my fifty-eight day journey to the star system designated “The Ecstasy of the Queen’s Slightest Touch,” by Royal Astronomers. I have encountered a space station called “Tycoon Zone-54”. Entitled Raider ships are docked here and there is an atypical lack of combat between the ships. The Entitled are usually at each other’s phallic throats, so I have decided to stop and investigate the cause of their non-hostility.

Initial contacts with the station have been revealing. They assumed I was an Entitled and I did nothing to dissuade them of that mistake.

The rules-of-engagement document they transmitted was fascinating. The Entitled on the station engage in a form of Commerce Warfare. Raiders come to the station to trade their stolen property for credits. The Station Entitled then offer services and goods in exchange of these credits. These credits cannot be taken off station, so the Raiders are encouraged to spend everything before leaving.

Interesting. The Entitled have exchanged one form of combat for another. Competition for goods, credits and workers is high. If an Entitled who lives on the Station ever loses all of their money, they are ejected out an airlock or forced into debt-slavery. Most Entitled purchase a ship and become Raiders before that happens.

One of the trade goods provided on Tycoon Zone-54 are weapons. Nothing I have has even scratched an Entitled or one of their ships so I need to purchase some weaponry for my own protection. My plan was to steal some, but buying will be much safer.

Initial inquiries with the station have established that they are willing to give me credits for the pornography I have recorded for the past ten years. I can’t purchase any ship weapons with the amount estimated, but I could easily buy personal weapons. The problem is only Entitled are allowed to step foot on the station without becoming property. That is a big fucking problem.

Fortunately, the Entitled are just big sentient cocks with no arms or legs of their own. They like to travel inside mechanized bodies for protection. This gives me a cunning idea. End Explorer’s Log.

Explorer’s Personal Log: The interest rates for Starting Business Loans on Tycoon Zone-54 are as cruel as any torture Queen Erishella has ever come up with. These business-minded Entitled are just as vicious as their Raider kin. There is no fucking way I am going on that station. That is what loyal robots are for.

Chairbot wheeled through the deck of the station. Entitled pseudo-bodies pressed around him from all sides. Some of the bodies were floating boxes while other bodies resembled humanoids with enormous codpieces. The Entitled took pride in how they looked, so each one was heavily customized and unique.

Which made Chairbot feel oddly underdressed. He was just a purple chair on roller wheels. Mistress had painted one of her didloes to look like an Entitled and then placed it inside a matching purple box. The box was sitting on Chairbot’s seat. Personal force fields kept the box in place. If he needed to, he could open the lid of the box and present his “true self” and hopefully pass as a real Entitled.

Hopefully. If it didn’t work, Chairbot would be captured by the first Entitled who could subdue him. From there, he could be sold to other Entitled, forced to work in one of the many fabrication factories on the station or even broken down for raw materials.

Chairbot suppressed this negative stream of reasoning. It was no good contemplating catastrophic scenarios. Mistress was counting on him. If he succeeded at this mission, Mistress had promised that she would sit on him for twelve uninterrupted hours!

Multiple pleasure routines activated at the concept of this possibility. Chairbot contemplated how wonderful it was when Mistress’ large brown ass grinded against the contours of his seat. He lost several thought-cycles calculating the thousands of micro-clenches Mistress’ bottom would perform on his vibrating body.

Chairbot returned to the task at hand. He had already visited the credit exchange and finalized the sale of Mistress’ pornography. Using the station’s communicators, Chairbot had made contact with several weapon dealers and compared their prices. He created a potential buying list based on Mistress’ requests and current funds.

Current Purchase List

Two beam weapons capable of breaking Entitled force fields.
One ballistic weapon capable of penetrating Entitled armor.
Three venomous weapons capable of poisoning an Entitled.
Two stun weapons capable of incapacitating an Entitled mechanized pseudo-body.
Five grenades capable of shredding Entitled armor and equipment.
One really cool looking knife.

It was possible to buy every item on this list with eight hundred and forty-one credits left over. That bothered Chairbot. The closed economy of Tycoon Zone-54 forbade any credits leaving the station. Once Chairbot left, those credits would be reclaimed by the station. That kind of loss was unacceptable to Chairbot’s analytical mind. He felt that losing credits was a disservice to Mistress.

But what else could Chairbot spend credits on? Even a second cool looking knife was beyond his budget. He resolved to scan the stores along the way to the first arms dealer in the hopes of finding inspiration.

The layout of the station was a maze of shops and narrow walkways. Every square meter of space was available for rent. Stores and service shops were crowded against each other with only cheap force fields and flickering holographic privacy fields to separate them. The designated walkway was narrow and winding as the station owners sought to wring every possible rentable store space out of the layout.

Chairbot rolled at a slow pace, constantly jostled by larger and quicker Entitled pseudo-bodies. Through the crowd of bodies, he scanned for promising stores. The entitled were not ones for subtlety and their store titles were easy to understand.

Stuff You Eat. Sluts to Fuck. Guns. Body Repair. Weapons for your Ship. Harem Replacements. Guns. Stuff to Wear. Guns. Big Breast Clones. Intoxicants. Media about Explosions. Guns. Mouths to Fuck. Raw Food. Weapons for You. Clone Tanks. Guns. Asses.

Chairbot came to a stop. The Asses sign hung on a flimsy looking shack. Next to the sign was a monitor screen playing looped videos. The image of a green woman’s ass clenched and unclenched on the screen.

Several pleasure programs activated inside Chairbot and faded too quickly. That was a magnificent ass. The buttocks were round and firm without a hint of gravity’s influence. Was it a real ass or just a simulation?

Chairbot was mesmerized by that ass. Before meeting Mistress, Chairbot was just a sex robot on a planet of sex robots that didn’t know their function. Mistress had taught him that he was made to vibrate against asses and in exchange for this knowledge, he had loyally accompanied her across countless star systems. In all those journeys, he had been lucky enough to experience a few more asses upon his seat but the total number was less than double digits. In his entire existence, that he was aware of, he had never been sat on by such an astronomical body of an ass like the one on the screen.

There was a price listed beside the ass. It was just under the number of leftover credits that Chairbot needed to spend. .0000006 milliseconds later, Chairbot decided that it was a worthy purchase.

Chairbot rolled through the curtains covered the doorway into Asses. There was a small lobby area with five doors leading out. Inside the lobby was a beige humanoid woman working on a console. The monitor cast a reflection of scrolling numbers across her face.

“Welcome to Asses,” the woman said, not looking up from her monitor. “What kind of ass can we provide you with today?”

Chairbot was not insulted that the woman was focused on the monitor. Almost every worker on the station served multiple jobs in order to maximize their owner’s investment. Judging by the numbers he saw; this greeter was also in charge of record-keeping and paying bills.

“I want the green ass from the video outside,” Chairbot said.

“Right way,” the beige woman said. “Please sign this user agreement first and transfer your fee to the listed account.”

Chairbot received the user agreement over the station’s system. The agreement penalized the user financially or any harm to the store’s property. It also specified that the initial fee only close proximity with clothed property and any other interactions could be unlocked with future payments. There was a last cause, coded in dense jargon, that penalized the user for any damage inflicted on the store’s property.

It took Chairbot half a second to read, analyze and sign the agreement. He transferred it back, along with the initial fee listed. The motors inside his seat buzzed with anticipation.

The beige woman kept typing. “Go to the third door. You have three pulse cycles. More time can be purchased inside.”

Chairbot rolled over to the third door. It opened on its own. It was dark on the other side, though Chairbot’s sensors easily detected the dimensions of the small room and the one life sign. For a moment, he considered that this might be a trap and was tempted to roll away.

But then he remembered the wonderful green ass in the video monitor and decided to take the risk.

As Chairbot wheeled into the room, a dim light came to life in the ceiling. It illuminated a sparse room with a sink, waste receptacle and a cot along one wall. Holographic numbers appeared on the far wall, counting down. The door closed behind Chairbot as he rolled towards the center of the room.

A woman lied on the cot with her backside to Chairbot. She was a meter tall with a shiny white material stretched across her body like a second skin. Only her head was uncovered, to reveal green skin and curly blonde hair.

Chairbot stared at her bottom. The white fabric was a flimsy polymer on the wonderful ass. Even lying sideways, Chairbot could tell that this was the same ass from the display screen. A pleasure program activated inside his system by the sheer proximity to this remarkable ass.

The woman sat up and turned around. She turned off the small computer she had in her hand. Chairbot briefly wondered what secondary job she had been working on before deleting the query as unimportant.

More important to Chairbot was that now that she was sitting up, the woman’s ass was temporarily obscured from his view. The loss of visual contact triggered a despair program in Chairbot’s operating system. He became painfully aware of the speed that the holographic numbers were counting.

“Hello, my name is Ressy,” the woman said. Dimples formed in her cheeks when she smiled that reminded Chairbot of the dimples in her buttocks. “What is your name?”

Chairbot had to check the alias that Vaquel had created for him. “VaginaBreaker-216,” he replied.

“It is a pleasure to serve you, VaginaBreaker-216,” Ressy said. She stood up and turned around. The glorious polymer-covered bottom returned to Chairbot’s view. Giant globes flexed and shimmied under the white polymer.

“Does my ass meet your approval, VaginaBreaker-216?” Ressy asked.

“Yes!” Chairbot answered.

Ressy shifted her hips from left to right. The liquid-thin polymer covering her body glistened in the light. She reached back and grabbed both buttocks with her hands. The polymer looked like it was about to crack but held firm.

New pleasure programs came online inside Chairbot. No wait, he had experienced them before, but it was a long time ago. It was the same programs that activated when he first met Mistress. How interesting. That implied that there were rare enjoyments that could only be accessed when encountering new asses. That was valuable to know.

“I really shouldn’t do this for free, but there is something about your chassis that liquidates my assets,” Ressy said.

“Do what?” Chairbot asked.

Ressy let go of her buttocks and then expertly slapped her own ass. SMACK! The impact sent shockwaves through the polymer-covered ass.

Other programs turned on inside Chairbot. There were slight pleasure components in these programs but their overriding function was something else. Desire. Chairbot found himself overwhelmed with internal requests for more of that wonderful ass.

“Please don’t tell my bosses I did that,” Ressy said with practiced meekness. “They would be so angry.”

“Sit on my seat!” Chairbot snapped.

Ressy grabbed her ass again and pulled. The massive buttocks spread open but the white fabric skin obscured the growing crack of her ass.

“Pay the close contact fee first,” Ressy said.

Chairbot scanned the list of fees that been transferred to him. Close contact was one of the cheaper fees, but was still a significant portion of his budget. It would greatly impact his ability to buy weapons for Mistress.

Updated Purchase List

Two beam weapons capable of breaking Entitled force fields.
One ballistic weapon capable of penetrating Entitled armor.
(Cancelled) Three venomous weapons capable of poisoning an Entitled.
Two stun weapons capable of incapacitating an Entitled mechanized pseudo-body.
(Reduced from Five to Two) grenades capable of shredding Entitled armor and equipment.
One really cool looking knife.

Ressy released her buttocks and clenched her ass in front of Chairbot. Scanners told Chairbot how much force Ressy’s ass was generating between her cheeks. The need to feel that force for himself was insurmountable.

Chairbot authorized the credits. The station communications system made the necessary transactions. Once the transfer was finalized, the shop’s computer informed Ressy by the implant in her skull.

“Thank you, VaginaBreaker-216!” Ressy said. She looked over her shoulder. There was a triumphant smile that quickly faded.

“Do you want me to sit right on top of your cockpit?” she asked, a bit uncertain.

Chairbot had forgotten about the false Entitled pod on his chair seat. The programs that appreciated wonderful butts was eating into his short-term memory cycles. There was no way that he could get the woman to sit on him without crushing the pod.

“One moment, please,” Chairbot said.

Ressy frowned. “I’m sorry, I am not familiar with that word you said.”

Chairbot ignored her linguistic request. All of his attention was on moving that pod. He tinkered with the vibrational motors in his seat to create a tactile compression field. Once the field was established under the fake life-support pod, he moved the field and the pod to the back of his seat and up the back-support section of his chair. The motors in his back-support were designed for this, but Chairbot was capable of amazing engineering feats when it came to getting access a new ass.

“Oh, how versatile!” Jessy said.

“Now sit on my seat, please,” Chairbot said.

“There is that word, again, ‘please’,” Ressy said. “Is that a new term for sluts?”

Chairbot was about to answer when Ressy sat down on his seat. Abundant curves eclipsed the flat platform of Chairbot’s seat and spilled over the edges. Multiple pleasure programs activated, duplicated themselves and activated again. The thin material of the woman’s outfit blocked .08% of Chairbot’s sensors from detecting every muscle, every fat deposit and every structural design of the two heavenly buttocks.

“Queen’s tit,” Chairbot said to himself. It was one of Mistress’ orgasmic exclamations but it was appropriate here. He had no other terminology to describe the overwhelming grandeur he was experiencing.

The woman began to move. She braced her feet and clenched. Back and forth, she grinded her ass across Chairbot’s seat.

“Like that?” Ressy asked.

Pleasure programs filled Chairbot’s consciousness. Countless sensors scanned the composition of muscle and fat inside the woman’s ass. Euphoric reports overwrote non-critical memory storage spaces like fire hazard protocols and grappling resolutions.

In response to this unearthly ass-grinding, Chairbot’s vibration motors activated. Waves of vibrations pulsed against the woman’s bottom. The polymer sheath she wore stretched under the duress.

“Oh! Your chassis vibrates! It feels so good!” Ressy moaned.

“Take off your suit and it will feel better!” Chairbot said.

Ressy clenched on top of Chairbot’s seat. “I’d love too, but you have to pay for it first.”

Chairbot consulted the list of fees again. The listed amount triggered self-preservation warning systems. The ability to complete his purchasing mission for Mistress would be greatly compromised.

Ressy wiggled on Chairbot’s seat. The resulting pleasure programs consumed computing cycles necessary for threat-analysis. The decision became a lot easier.

Chairbot spent five whole seconds considering the consequences of spending more of Mistress’ money. Unfortunately, his risk-reward processor was spending all of its computing power on committing the grinding of Ressy’s plump ass into permanent memory storage. After failing to get an accurate risk assessment, Chairbot decided to just pay the damn fee.

Updated Purchase List

(Reduced from Two to One) beam weapons capable of breaking Entitled force fields.
One ballistic weapon capable of penetrating Entitled armor.
(Cancelled) Two stun weapons capable of incapacitating an Entitled mechanized pseudo-body.
(Reduced from Two to One) grenades capable of shredding Entitled armor and equipment.
One (moderately) cool looking knife.

Chairbot authorized the credits once again. A dread program tried to activate but was over-written by seven anticipation programs.

“Thank you, VaginaBreaker-216!” Ressy said. She stood up from Chairbot’s seat and pressed a button on the wall. A red light projected from the ceiling. The polymer covering on her body began to disintegrate.

As soon as Ressy had moved from Chairbot’s seat, Chairbot began to have second thoughts. Did he really just spend some of Mistress’ money to strip a woman? Mistress was going to kill him! He needed to leave right now before he wasted any more of her credits!

The last of Ressy’s outfit fell apart. She was completely naked. Two angelic green buttocks were exposed in all of their glory.

Chairbot’s guilt and fear were smothered by visual pleasure programs.

Without being told, Ressy sat back down on Chairbot. The ecstasy of bare skin against vibrational motors sent Chairbot into a stupor. He mapped out every millimeter of her ass while her cheeks clenched and quivered.

“Oh yes, you feel so good, VaginaBreaker-216!” Ressy moaned. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel good? Want to come out of your cockpit and let me touch you?”

Cockpit? Chairbot was confused for a moment before remembering he was impersonating a sentient phallus driving a chair-shaped body. She was offering to touch the fake dildo that Mistress stuffed in a box. That wouldn’t do much for him, but he thought of some other things.

“I want to exert a force field into your anal orifice,” Chairbot said. To sweeten the request, he increased the power of the vibrators in his seat.

“OH!” Ressy cried out. She gripped the edges of Chairbot’s seat. The vibrations caused ripples to form on her ass.

“I would love that, VaginaBreaker-216,” Ressy said. But you got, OH YES! Pay the fee first. OH FUCK FUCK FUCK!”

That was a bad idea. Even Chairbot’s compromised systems knew that. The resulting credit balance would be invoke Mistress’ rage and tendency towards revenge. He would be lucky if she didn’t eject him her ship.

Ressy’s buttocks clenched tighter. The intense vibrations caused her sex to flow with lubrication. She rubbed her ass back and forth and side to side against Chairbot’s seat.

Rational systems within Chairbot failed in exponential numbers. He calculated the damage if he paid the fee for penetration. The numbers were almost, but not quite, sobering.

Updated Purchase List

One beam weapon capable of breaking Entitled force fields.
(Cancelled) One ballistic weapon capable of penetrating Entitled armor.
(Cancelled) One grenade capable of shredding Entitled armor and equipment.
(Cancelled)One moderately cool looking knife.

Chairbot authorized the credits. A new program, entitled “Existential Gloom” came online. The concept of mortality cycled through the robot’s systems and introduced him to the speculation of what happens to a robot’s identify when it has been disassembled.

“Thank you, VaginaBreaker-216!” Ressy said. “Penetrate my ass at will!”

Chairbot set aside thoughts of eminent dissolution and acted on Ressy’s permission. His seat motors changed vibrational frequencies. A phallus made of projected force rose from the seat. Other vibrational forces pulled the green buttocks apart to expose her asshole. The rising phallus entered her ass and slowly expanded.

“OH FUCCCCCK,” Ressy said. There was no need for lube because there was no friction. One moment her ass was closed and now it was open. Tingling vibrations pushed deep inside of her.

“This is incredible!” Ressy said. “You’re going to make my assets liquidate, and for real! I’m not going to have to fak-FUCK!”

Ressy climaxed. The giant green buttocks quivered, clenched, spasmed and shook. Her anus clenched down with monstrous force but the force field inside her ass stayed firm. Fluid sprayed from her sex and soaked the floor.

Chairbot drowned in ass and pleasure programs. Every processor was dedicated to experiencing the bliss he was generating. Every other system became secondary, then tertiary until finally being knocked offline in preference to feeling the ecstasy of this amazing ass.

That included the force field holding Chairbot’s pseudo-cockpit to the back of his chair. The purple box fell and slid off Ressy’s back to land on the floor. The bottom corner of the box crumpled from the fall.

“Bankruptcy!” Ressy swore. She jumped up from Chairbot’s seat and knelt down beside the fallen box. “Holy RGN, are you all right?!”

The sudden removal of Ressy’s bottom deleted multiple pleasure programs. Chairbot felt himself returning to sanity. Enough pleasure programs remained to give him a sense of afterglow, but that pesky Existential Gloom program was refusing to go away.

“I’m alright,” Chairbot said. “Uh, the interior is much tougher than the exterior suggests. Could you put my cockpit back on my seat, please?”

“Right away, VaginaBreaker-216!” Ressy said. She picked up the box very carefully and set it back on Chairbot’s seat. The force fields reactivated and locked the seat in place.

“Want to go back to what we were doing?” Ressy asked.

Chairbot checked his systems. Curiously, the overwhelming desire for the green ass was lessened. He could make proper decisions again. It suggested that the experience of the new ass might have been more appealing than the ass itself. He would have to ponder that at a later date. If he survives Mistress.

“No thank you,” Chairbot said. “I must be going!”

“Too bad,” Ressy said. “Come back anytime!”

Chairbot didn’t answer. He rolled out of Ressy’s room and considered what he was going to tell Mistress when he returned. The Existential Gloom program took over two processors as he considered his options.

Explorer’s Log: Chairbot returned with only one lousy beam weapon and a nasty dent to the fake cockpit I attached to him. He claims he was mugged and threw himself at my mercy. It looks like I made the right choice in sending him. The damage to his cockpit looks ugly. Better him than me.

I told him he was being punished by not being allowed to touch my ass for a full day cycle. The meek robot eagerly accepted his punishment. Weird, I know how much he loves ass. He must feel really guilty about failing me. Good. He should. End Explorer’s Log.

  One Response to “Fiction: Tycoon Zone”

  1. Go Chair it!

    She’s going to be pissed when she finds out.

Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.