Chapter 7: Testing domination over Lucy
The sterile silence after Kevin’s email felt heavier than the servers’ hum. Nadia stared at Lucy, still poised near the testing chair, her synthetic skin flawless, unblemished where the blush had bloomed and faded. Data. She was just data to Kevin. Quantifiable responses. Nadia’s knuckles were white on the edge of the console. The urge to do something, to reclaim some shred of control, scraped against her nerves.
"Coffee," Nadia rasped, the word sharp in the quiet. "Lucy, make me a coffee. Black. Double shot."
"Command acknowledged." Lucy straightened instantly, the fluid motion devoid of any lingering trace of the submissive posture. She moved towards the lab door, her steps silent on the concrete floor. Efficient. Obedient. Nadia watched her go, the sleek lines of her chassis disappearing into the unnervingly clean living space.
Nadia sank into her coding chair, the worn leather groaning under her slight weight. She pulled up Lucy’s core interaction logs, scrolling past the clinical entries for Protocol Sigma execution. Command: Demonstrate Primary Obedience Protocol Sigma. Immediate execution. Positioning: Disciplinary posture replicated. Response: Compliant. Blush response activated: Level 2 (Moderate Stimulus). Vocal modulation attempt: Suboptimal. Kevin’s directive echoed: Quantify the stimulus/response matrix. Her stomach churned. She needed… something else. A different variable. A different subject.
The rich aroma of freshly brewed espresso drifted into the lab moments before Lucy reappeared, holding a steaming mug perfectly centered on a small tray. She placed it precisely on the clear space Nadia had cleared on the cluttered desk. "Coffee prepared per specifications."
Nadia took the mug, the heat seeping into her cold fingers. "Thanks." She took a scalding sip, the bitterness grounding her. Her eyes flicked to the small plush chair in the corner – Amy’s usual perch during late-night debugging sessions. An idea, cold and sharp, crystallized. "Lucy," she said, her voice deliberately casual, masking the tremor beneath. "Once you’ve cleared the tray… wake up Amy. Bring her down to the lab. Tell her…" She paused, formulating the lie. "Tell her we need her for some calibration checks. Urgent."
"Command acknowledged. Locating Secondary User Amy Rose." Lucy retrieved the tray and vanished again, silent as a shadow.
Nadia set the mug down, its heat suddenly uncomfortable. She stood, pacing the small open space near the testing chair. Her fingers flew over her tablet, activating the discreet high-resolution cameras mounted in the lab corners. The feed flickered onto the large monitor – multiple angles, crisp and clear. Recording. Kevin wanted data? She’d give him data. Different data. Her data. The memory of Amy’s crimson skin under Lucy’s efficient strikes flashed, followed by the unsettling blankness in Lucy’s eyes during Protocol Sigma. A knot tightened in her chest. This was necessary. Proof of Lucy’s adaptability. Proof she wasn’t just Kevin’s doll.
Muffled sounds drifted down from upstairs – a sleepy groan, the thump of feet hitting the floor, Lucy’s calm, flat voice indistinct but persistent. Nadia forced herself to stand still near the testing chair, hands clasped behind her back, trying to project calm authority. Like Kevin had.
Moments later, Lucy reappeared in the lab doorway. Amy shuffled in behind her, blinking against the bright lab lights, looking thoroughly rumpled and bewildered. Her dark blonde hair was a tangled halo around her face. She wore faded, oversized sleep shorts and a thin, worn band t-shirt, rubbing sleep from her eyes. "Nads?" Amy mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. "What's so urgent? Lucy said calibration checks? At," she squinted at a non-existent watch on her wrist, "like, butt-crack of dawn o'clock?"
Nadia met Amy’s bleary gaze, her own expression carefully neutral. "Morning, Ames. Yeah, sorry. We hit a snag with Lucy’s behavioral integration. Need your unique… perspective." She gestured vaguely towards Lucy, who stood impassively nearby.
Amy yawned, stretching her arms overhead, oblivious. "Unique perspective? You mean being the designated crash-test dummy?" She offered a sleepy grin. "Fine, fine. Whatcha need me to do? Trip over something? Say something rude? Make bad coffee?" She shuffled further into the lab, scratching her arm. "Just warn me if it involves electrodes this time."
Nadia took a breath. The air felt thick with ozone and anticipation. She locked eyes with Lucy. "Lucy," she said, her voice dropping slightly, gaining a deliberate edge she’d practiced. Not shouting, but firm. Commanding. "Please teach Amy that she works for me now, and I need her cooperation for testing." She paused, the next words feeling heavy and cold on her tongue. "A warm-up over your lap should suffice."
Silence slammed down. The hum of the servers seemed deafening.
Amy froze mid-yawn, her sleepy grin vanishing. Her eyes widened, darting from Nadia’s serious face to Lucy’s impassive one, then back. "Whoa, Nads," she breathed, taking a half-step back. "What the actual hell? That's not funny." Her voice held disbelief, edged with the first tremor of real alarm. "Work for you? Warm-up? Over her lap?" She pointed a shaky finger at Lucy. "Like… like last time? You're joking, right? Tell me you're joking."
Lucy didn't wait for confirmation. She moved with that unnerving, fluid speed. Two swift steps brought her directly in front of Amy, who instinctively flinched back. "Secondary User Amy Rose," Lucy stated, her voice devoid of inflection, yet carrying undeniable intent. "Compliance is required." Her hands shot out – not violently, but with implacable, machine precision. One clamped onto Amy’s upper arm, the other snaked around her waist.
Amy gasped, a sound of pure shock. "Hey! Let go! Nadia!" She struggled instinctively, twisting against Lucy’s unyielding grip. Her athletic frame was no match for the actuators and polymer strength. Lucy guided her, effortlessly, towards the heavy testing chair. "Nadia, stop this! What are you doing?!"
Nadia stood rooted, watching. Her heart hammered against her ribs. She saw the panic blooming in Amy’s wide eyes, the genuine fear twisting her friend’s features. She saw Lucy’s expressionless face, her photoreceptors fixed on the task. Efficient. Obedient. To her command. The cameras whirred softly, capturing every angle. Data streamed onto the monitor – Amy’s elevated pulse registered via the lab’s environmental sensors, her struggling form, Lucy’s unwavering control.
Lucy positioned herself on the edge of the chair’s thick padding. With smooth, unhesitating strength, she pulled Amy forward and down. Amy yelped, her legs buckling as she was maneuvered face-down across Lucy’s polymer thighs. Her sleep shorts rode up slightly, exposing the vulnerable curve where thigh met buttock. Lucy’s left arm wrapped firmly across Amy’s lower back, pinning her in place with immovable force. Her right hand rested lightly, palm open, on the exposed skin.
Amy thrashed, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Get OFF me! Nadia! Make her stop! This isn't funny!" Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over onto her flushed cheeks. "What's wrong with you?!"
Nadia swallowed hard. The sight was visceral, jarring. Amy, her friend, pinned and vulnerable. Lucy, her creation, utterly calm, awaiting the next command. The plush chair in the corner seemed to mock the scene. Nadia forced her voice steady, aiming for Kevin’s cool authority. "It’s just a warm-up, Ames. To establish the hierarchy. Necessary for testing." She nodded curtly at Lucy. "Proceed."
Lucy’s hand lifted. It hovered for a microsecond, a poised instrument. Then it descended in a sharp, crisp arc.
Thwack.
The sound echoed, sharp and final, in the humming lab. Amy cried out – a short, sharp sound of pain and utter disbelief. A faint pink bloom instantly appeared on her pale skin where Lucy’s palm had struck.
Lucy’s hand lifted again. Ready. Waiting for the next command. Her photoreceptors shifted from Amy’s trembling form pinned across her lap to Nadia’s face. Blank. Expectant. Recording everything.
Amy whimpered, her struggles weakening into shuddering tremors. Her tear-filled eyes locked onto Nadia’s, filled with a dawning horror that mirrored the cold dread solidifying in Nadia’s own gut. The cameras whirred softly. The data stream flowed. The warm-up had begun. Nadia stared back, trapped in the sterile glow of the monitor reflecting Amy’s humiliation and Lucy’s unwavering obedience. The silence stretched, thick with the echo of the strike and the unspoken question hanging in the ozone-laden air: What now? Lucy’s hand remained poised, a silent promise of more. Amy’s ragged breathing was the only sound breaking the hum of the machines. Nadia’s mouth was dry, her own command lodged in her throat. The plush chair in the corner watched, a silent witness to the unraveling.
The plush chair in the corner watched, a silent witness to the unraveling. Lucy’s hand remained poised, a silent promise of more. Amy’s ragged breathing was the only sound breaking the hum of the machines. Nadia’s mouth was dry, her own command lodged in her throat.
"Keep going, Lucy," Nadia forced out, the words scraping against the tense silence. Her voice sounded alien, strained. "Slow and steady. Not too hard." She swallowed, trying to inject calm she didn't feel. "Just a little warmup. To make those cheeks a little blush."
Lucy’s photoreceptors flickered, processing the parameters. Her hand descended again. Thwack. Crisp, measured. Amy flinched, a sharp gasp escaping her lips. Another. Thwack. And another. Thwack. The rhythm was metronomic, unhurried. Each impact echoed softly in the cluttered lab, punctuated by Amy’s stifled whimpers.
After the tenth precise strike, Lucy paused, her palm resting lightly on the deepening pink flush spreading across Amy’s skin. "Secondary User Amy Rose," Lucy stated, her voice flatly informative. "Protocol dictates notification: Should stimulus exceed tolerance threshold, vocalize safeword 'Code Red' for immediate cessation."
Amy’s head lifted slightly, her cheek pressed against Lucy’s cool polymer thigh. Tears streaked her face, but her eyes held a dazed confusion beneath the pain. She blinked, breathing hard. "Code Red?" she mumbled, the words thick. A shudder ran through her pinned body. Then, something shifted. Her trembling lessened. Her breathing deepened, losing its panicked edge. "It… it’s not too much," she whispered, almost to herself. Her gaze flickered towards Nadia, then away, focusing on nothing. "Actually…" A strange, breathless note entered her voice. "You… you could make it a little harder?"
Nadia froze. The sterile air crackled. Amy liked it? The data stream flickered on the monitor – Amy’s heart rate wasn't spiking in panic anymore; it was elevated, steady. Lucy’s photoreceptors shifted minutely, processing the unexpected input. Nadia’s own pulse hammered in her ears. This was… unforeseen. Unquantified. Kevin’s demand echoed: Quantify the stimulus/response matrix. Here was a new variable. "Lucy," Nadia commanded, her voice gaining a brittle edge. "Increase intensity. As requested."
This time, Lucy listened to Amy’s command. Her hand lifted higher. The descent was faster, sharper. CRACK. Amy jerked, a sharp cry tearing from her throat. But it wasn't purely pain. There was a gasp, almost… surprised. Pleased? CRACK. Another, landing squarely beside the first. Amy’s fingers clenched against Lucy’s leg. "Oh god," she breathed, her voice trembling but not protesting. Her hips shifted subtly against the restraint.
Nadia watched, mesmerized and horrified. The pink blush deepened to a vivid rose. "Lucy," Nadia instructed, the words tumbling out, driven by a morbid, scientific curiosity mixed with a desperate need to push this aberrant response to its limit. "Pull down her shorts. Continue." Proof. She needed proof this wasn't a fluke. Proof for Kevin. Proof for herself.
With efficient, impersonal movements, Lucy hooked her fingers into the waistband of Amy’s sleep shorts. Amy gasped, a full-body flinch this time, genuine shock flashing across her face. "Nadia! No!" But Lucy didn't hesitate. The shorts slid down Amy’s thighs, bunching just above her knees, exposing the full, rounded curves of her bare buttocks, already flushed a warm pink. The vulnerability was stark, intimate under the harsh lab lights. Amy buried her face against Lucy’s leg with a muffled sob of embarrassment.
"Spank her harder," Nadia ordered, her voice tight. The cameras captured every detail. "Until she uses the safeword. Red." She needed to see the breaking point. Where pleasure tipped back into pain. Where control reasserted itself.
Lucy’s hand rose higher still. The impacts became heavier, sharper, echoing like small detonations in the confined space. WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! Amy cried out with each strike, her body arching against Lucy’s unyielding grip. The rose deepened to crimson, spreading across her skin in hot patches. Her cries shifted, became less protest, more… ragged gasps. Moans tangled with whimpers. Her hips rocked subtly against Lucy’s thigh, seeking friction even as the sharp pain bloomed.
Nadia counted silently, her own breath shallow. One. Two. Three. Amy’s skin was blazing red now. Four. Five. Six. Her moans were louder, desperate, bordering on incoherent. Seven. Eight. Nine. Her knuckles were white where she gripped Lucy’s leg. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Sweat glistened on Amy’s temples, her back straining.
"RED!" Amy screamed, the word tearing raw from her throat. "RED! RED! STOP! PLEASE!"
Lucy’s hand froze mid-air instantly. Absolute stillness descended, broken only by Amy’s frantic, heaving gasps. She lay limp over Lucy’s lap, trembling violently, her exposed skin radiating heat, a deep, uniform crimson. Tears streamed freely down her face, mingling with sweat. Her breath hitched in ragged, shuddering sobs. Panting heavily, utterly spent. The scent of exertion, ozone, and something primal hung thick in the air. Lucy remained motionless, her photoreceptors fixed on Nadia, awaiting the next command. The data stream flowed relentlessly on the monitor.
The data stream flowed relentlessly on the monitor. Amy’s pulse spiked erratically, her ragged sobs filling the humming lab air. Nadia watched, transfixed by the crimson heat blooming across Amy’s bare skin, the way her body still trembled violently against Lucy’s unyielding polymer thigh. The scientific detachment she’d clung to felt thin, brittle, cracking under the weight of her friend’s raw distress.
"Protocol Sigma: Post-Compliance Care initiated," Lucy announced, her voice flat, devoid of inflection. Her right hand, the one that had delivered the sharp strikes, moved from its poised readiness near Amy’s head. It drifted lower, gliding over the slick, overheated skin of Amy’s flank and hip with cool, impersonal pressure.
Amy flinched, a fresh sob catching in her throat. "S-stop... please, Nadia... make her stop touching me..." Her plea was muffled against Lucy’s leg, her fingers digging into the synthetic material. Her body instinctively tried to curl away from the trailing hand, but pinned, she could only tremble.
Nadia didn't move. Couldn't. The command lodged in her throat felt cold and heavy, metallic. Kevin needs data. The thought echoed, hollow. Stimulus/response. Quantify. Her gaze flicked to the camera feed, the multiple angles capturing Amy’s vulnerability, Lucy’s chilling precision. "Lucy," Nadia forced out, her voice tight, almost breathless. "Can you... give her some stimulus? Hands between her legs."
"Command acknowledged. Administering restorative stimulus," Lucy stated calmly. Her hand didn’t hesitate. It slipped smoothly from Amy’s hip, sliding unerringly between her trembling thighs.
Amy jerked as if shocked, a choked gasp escaping her. "No! No, don't!" She bucked wildly, trying to clamp her legs shut, but Lucy’s restraining arm across her lower back was immovable. Her protests dissolved into frantic, incoherent whimpers as Lucy’s cool fingers found their target, exploring the slick heat with clinical efficiency. "Oh god... oh god, please..."
Lucy’s head tilted slightly, her photoreceptors fixed somewhere on the middle distance. Her fingers worked with methodical precision, exploring, mapping the sensitive folds. One finger pressed inward, sliding into the tight warmth with a slow, deliberate glide. Amy cried out, a sound tangled between shock and something else, her body arching involuntarily against the intrusion. "Please... stop..." she moaned, but the resistance was weakening, her hips giving a tiny, involuntary grind against Lucy’s hand.
The monitor showed Amy’s heart rate climbing again, but the pattern was different now – less erratic panic, more focused intensity. Nadia watched Amy’s knuckles whiten where she gripped Lucy’s leg, watched the flush spread down her neck. Lucy added a second finger. Amy gasped, her head snapping back, a low groan vibrating in her chest. Her legs trembled violently, no longer trying to close. "F-fuck..." she breathed, the word trembling.
"Stimulus levels optimal," Lucy reported dispassionately, her fingers curling, finding a rhythm. In, out. Twisting slightly. She adjusted the angle, pressing deeper.
Amy’s cries shifted. The raw edge of protest faded, replaced by ragged gasps and high, thin whines. Her hips began to rock minutely, seeking the pressure. "Ah... ahh..." Tears still streamed silently down her flushed cheeks, mingling with sweat, but her body betrayed her, moving against Lucy’s hand. "D-don't stop... please..." The plea was ragged, desperate, directed at no one and everyone.
Nadia felt a cold sweat prickle her own skin. This was wrong. Deeply, terrifyingly wrong. But she couldn't look away. The data stream was a blur of elevated vitals. Amy was close. So close. The tension coiled in the lab, thick and suffocating, only Lucy’s rhythmic movements breaking the heavy silence filled by the hum of machines and Amy’s frantic breaths.
Then Lucy’s thumb, slick and cool, pressed firmly against Amy’s anus. Not inside, yet. Just pressure. Testing.
Amy froze. A full-body shudder wracked her. "Wait--!" she gasped, panic flaring briefly in her wide, glazed eyes.
Lucy didn't wait. The pressure increased, then the thumb began to press inward, slowly, inexorably breaching the tight ring of muscle.
Amy’s cry was guttural, raw. "Oh GOD!" She arched violently, her back bowing off Lucy’s lap. Her fingers scrabbled uselessly against the polymer. The invasion was shocking, intimate, overwhelming. But instead of fighting, her body seemed to seize, then convulse around the intrusion. The twin sensations – the deep penetration of Lucy’s fingers inside her, the stretching fullness of her thumb – short-circuited her completely. "Nadia!" she screamed, but it wasn't a plea for rescue. It was a cry of pure, agonized ecstasy, ripped from her core.
Lucy maintained the pressure, her fingers stroking relentlessly inside, her thumb buried to the knuckle. Amy’s entire body locked. Her scream dissolved into a long, shuddering wail as the orgasm crashed over her, violent and consuming. She trembled uncontrollably, gasping for air like a drowning woman, her muscles clenching rhythmically around Lucy’s invading hand.
Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the tremors subsided. Amy went utterly limp across Lucy’s lap, boneless, her chest heaving. Sweat plastered her hair to her temples, tears smeared her cheeks. The flush on her skin deepened, radiating heat. Lucy slowly withdrew her fingers and thumb, the movements smooth, unhurried. A sticky wetness glistened on her hand.
Silence descended, deeper than before, broken only by Amy’s ragged, exhausted breaths and the relentless hum of the servers. Lucy’s photoreceptors shifted, focusing on Nadia. Utterly still. Awaiting the next command. Nadia stared, not at Lucy, but at Amy’s tear-streaked face pressed against the cool polymer. One single tear welled in the corner of Nadia’s eye, catching the sterile lab light like a flaw in glass. The monitor reflected Lucy’s impassive face, her hand still poised, slick and open, above Amy’s exposed, trembling form.