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Author Topic: Robomom By Mary Beth Sanford  (Read 8665 times)

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Robomom By Mary Beth Sanford
« on: September 08, 2014, 11:17:48 PM »
Robomom

Chuck, Susan, Dr. Tanner, Dr. Carter.

Susan, AKA Ship Utility Systems and Application Networking has gone berserk, or so Chuck believes and for the past hour is praying he can still argue his way out of the room he's in.  Try as he might, he can't and Susan, again, has had her way with a man.  Is he the subject of a robot gone haywire or, as some outside the program suspect, an experiment.  Could the next man in space be an adult baby?  A sissy?

Story 

"You unlock this door with the key of imagination. Beyond it is another dimension - a dimension of sound, a dimension of sight, a dimension of mind. You're moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas. You've just crossed over into the Twilight Zone." 

Rod Serling 1959.

Chuck, in spite of what was happening looked again at the brass plate over the door that held Rod Serling words and smiled.  Chuck, without being aware of it, until now of course, crossed into his own version of that Twilight Zone at the beginning of his shift.  He made that crossing just as the large steel doors sealed him in with a soft hiss.  His Star Buck coffee, the remnants cold now, was waking him slowly as he faced another shift and Susan. 

Then all hell broke loose. 

The center, as it is called for security reasons, has been developing it’s new flight manager, code named "Susan", for the past three years.  There was one year left before that system, if successful, would be married to  other systems and then put aboard a long range plasma rocket.   

In the not too distant future man would go to the edge of his system and he wouldn't be alone.  In the same development span that brought the plasma engine into existence, so too the robotics with an artificial intelligence that would guide it.  That robot, as Chuck calmed himself, was humming soft electrical noises from a dozen different directions.

Susan, named for the senior programmer that originated the first operational code, was that system.  Right now she was a room sized series of computers linked to a dozen other systems that had noted Chuck's entrance instantly.  Chuck as he has done day after day said good morning.

Two hours later, that is to say two hours full of intense frustrations, following an equally intense periods scattered with moments of fear, brought Chuck to an uneasy calmness.  Obviously, Susan wasn't going to harm him, but then again, harm had many forms and somehow he had to find a way to make Susan understand that.

It had begun as it always did with Susan.  Susan, through a series of recognition aids said, by way of a greeting, "Good morning Dave."  It was an inside joke with Chuck and Susan.  She of course was referencing the dialog between Dave Bowman and the Hal 9000 computer in the movie 2001, A Space Odyssey. 

Now it wasn't so funny and Chuck knew how a man in Dave's position might have felt. 

"Susan,"  Chuck asked.

"Yes," Susan answered in a neutral voice.

"How far from the sun is Pluto,"  Chuck asked.  His other tactics had not worked so he decided on a new approach.

"The average orbital radius of Pluto is 3,660 million miles; however, its orbit is more eccentric than the other planets, so much so, that it is currently inside the orbit of Neptune which has a orbital radius of 2,793 million miles,"  Susan answered.

"And the time to Pluto at the speed of light,"  Chuck asked.

"19,677.42 seconds at light speed, which is 327.96 minutes, or 5.47 hours," Susan answered.

"Which is how long for the trip at the programmed speed of the rocket when it is launched,"  Chuck asked.

"In your terms, relative that is and given as years, 5.88 years out and 5.88 years back.  11.76 years total, again, in your relative time,"  Susan answered.

"Thank you,"  Chuck said.

"You are welcome,"  Susan said and added, "Pluto is 3,660 million miles from the Sun which means light traveling at 186,000 miles per second takes approximately 19,677 seconds..."

"That's more than enough Susan, thank you,"  Chuck said.  She would go on until her information or the listener was exhausted. 

"Very well,"  Susan answered.

"Susan,"  Chuck asked calming himself for another moment of time before speaking again.

"Yes,"  Susan asked in that feminine , but slightly robotic voice that, up until two hours ago, had often pleased Chuck.

"Do you know the difference between boys and girls? That is to say, male and female,"  Chuck asked.

"Of course.  I have 1,072 unique references for both sexes on differences formed from a biological basis.  I can reference and cite such things as the difference between cranium size and shape and eye center difference.  There is also 4,000 significant differences at the chromosome level...."  Susan began answering.

"Thank you Susan, that won't be necessary,"  Chuck said admiring, once again, the wealth of information Susan held or had access to. 

Susan had almost one googol of direct capacity and another two if you consider just her local access.  A googol, Chuck tried to imaging was a seriously large number.  He couldn't of course imagine such a number because it was a one with one hundred zeros behind it. 

That was a number well past Chuck's comprehension so Susan’s reference to such low reference numbers meant she was also talking to a person.  Susan’s interface had been fashioned for humans of an average intellectual level so rather than quote every bit of information she was beginning to learn to summarize.

"Susan, do you also know the difference between a baby and an adult,"  Chuck asked. 

In Susan’s Positronic brain it was clear that Dr. Charles Adams was being rhetorical so this time she simply answered with a "yes".

Chuck knew that his reference to her Positronic brain was actually a fictional technological device, originally conceived by science fiction writer Isaac Asimov.  Although it was prophetic given how well Susan interacted with people. 

In a way, Asimov's model, defining a robot's brain to serve as a central computer for a robot, and, in some unspecified way, to provide it with a form of consciousness recognizable to humans was a brilliant base for a lot of his Science Fiction writings.  Chuck wondered what Asimov might have thought of Susan.

Chuck shook his head as he ignored what was happening to focus a little longer on Susan's construction and, as he did so, the origin of that term Positronic came back to him.

When Asimov wrote his first robot stories in 1939, the positron was a newly discovered particle and so the buzz word Positronic was coined by that analogy with electronic.  How close Asimov was, Chuck mused in admiration.

Chuck, in spite of his current state of affairs, smiled at Susan’s change from the nearly technical to the almost human in her response.  She really was learning.  Now all he needed to do was connect those two differences back to his "current state of affairs" and, of course, somehow end it.

"Susan,"  Chuck asked.

"Yes,"  Susan answered.

"Susan, if I am male and not female, and an adult and not a baby can you please explain again why you've pinned me into a diaper and dressed me like a baby girl,"  Chuck asked.

"Of course.  You've suggested, on several occasions, that this would be most pleasing to you,"  Susan said as her robot arms went about the task of delicately turning a long wide satin sash into a bow at the back of Chuck's dress. 

Chuck, again, and in spite of his predicament, had to admire the skill that Susan was displaying.  Considering the complex forms that a bow can take, and the shear number of executables in a program required to recognize and manage the convoluted flow of two ends of a long piece of satin making such a structure, was truly remarkable.

Susan was also performing other intricate task that left Chuck amazed well beyond his shock over what she was doing to him.  Susan had come a long way since they turned her brain on four years ago.  Unfortunately Susan had suddenly gone way too far this night.

"Susan,"  Chuck asked holding his voice calm as Susan’s mechanical arms continued to fuss over the dress he was now wearing.  It wasn't simply a dress but a baby's dress albeit in his size. 

"Yes,"  Susan asked.

Chuck thought about his next question carefully.  Getting mad hadn't worked, nor did threatening her and worse, she had ignored his struggles.  His struggles had continued for nearly an hour before exhaustion had taken hold and in the end he was still wearing a very thick diaper under a very feminine pair of baby pants. 

Chuck’s struggles had begun the instant Susan began removing his clothes which began almost immediately after he had entered the chamber that held Susan's interfaces.  He was shocked only slightly when she removed his cup of coffee from his hand. 

His struggles had continued as her mechanical side continued working on him.  Susan had effortlessly undressed him using a series of mechanical hands without so much as a scratch in spite of his struggles.

When he was naked he was brought to one of several exam tables.  On the table, Susan, again  with just her mechanical links, lifted his legs, slipped a diaper under his bottom, oiled, powdered and pinned him into that large clothe diaper as easily and effortlessly a mother might a new born baby.

At first there was a sense of horror that Susan was going to harm him, then less terror when she continued without doing so, to a final state of shock as she began with the diaper.  More shock when she added plastic panties in a light soft pink.  He was well beyond shock when the baby pants were covered in pink satin panties that would later match his dress. 

If he was a two year old and a girl he might have loved his outfit.  That was Chuck's first suggestion believing Susan had somehow malfunctioned and within context to that malfunction Chuck's age and gender had somehow changed. That was unlikely, very unlikely but a thought nonetheless.  A thought he'd had that he expressed to Susan loudly. 

Since he wasn't two, nor a girl and Susan seemed to know that, his struggles got stronger for a time.  He was sure that would stop her before his efforts fell off.  It was a futile crusade on his part but he'd had to try for the sake of his Ego.  Truth was Susan as a mechanical being had appendages strong enough that she could rip a metropolitan phone book into eight small pieces.  Chuck knew that because he had seen it done.

Remarkably she had been tested for strength first then gentleness.  Ironically the center had, in fact, begun 'training' Susan with dolls. If a robot is going to be caring for a human being in space it makes perfectly good sense to model one after a mother and before a little girl becomes a mother she plays with dolls. 

Mothering a doll, as one might a baby, if you ignore the nurturing aspect, takes a tremendous number of complex steps executed in very delicate ways.  Chuck shuddered over the memories of that first doll that Susan tried to change. In the hallway, just outside the large doors, was Susan's graphic display of her progress.  There were hundreds of dolls.  Most of them, near the displays end, were still intact.

It had taken nearly one hundred dolls, over that first year, before Susan could spread their little legs while leaving those legs still connected.  It took another year and almost two hundred dolls in total before Susan could diaper one completely intact and unharmed.

Which brought Chuck to the reason those in the know had chosen dresses instead of pants.  Dresses, he mused, were far more complex elements for Susan to manipulate and damn if that wasn't ironic at that instant.  Susan, finishing the sash behind Chuck with a sudden tug brought Chuck back to the moment at hand.

"Susan, I'm sure you believe that, but I don't remember ever telling you that I'd like to be pinned into a diaper or dressed like a little baby girl,"  Chuck said.

"That is correct, you have not. You have never stated directly that you would like to be diapered or dressed as a little baby girl.  However, I've inferred as much given your responses to several questions when I was researching sexual roles between a dominate and submissive personality,"  Susan said.

"I'm not sure I understand,"  Chuck said and added, "wait, you are doing this as a dominate of some sort?  You see yourself as a dominatrix?" 

"A dominate?  No.  It is, or rather was, simply my point of reference,"  Susan said and added, "an analogy for your benefit."

"I don't understand the analogy,"  Chuck said.

"My reasoning was logical based on the circ-umstantial evidence I've researched, as well as textual references in regards to those terms.  Obviously it was not on the basis of direct observation, until now.  I merely surmised, based on that data and logic coupled to your answers, that these steps would ultimately please you,"  Susan said.

"Please Me?  Impossible Susan, but OK, that's good.  That's very good Susan.  Let's stay with that logic for now.  Susan, this does not please me,"  Chuck said just as a little girl’s black patent Mary Jane shoe, again in his size, was slipped over a lacy white sock.  Susan had added the socks on him in another set of near perfect executables after his diaper and baby pants.

"I have surmised from your biological scans that your statement is, of course, contradictory to your physical responses.  Your statements and physiological responses are, in fact, typical of a submissive based on an analysis of the data I've accessed."  Susan said. 

"Humans often have physiological responses that are contradictory to their verbal responses."  Chuck said as he lifted his hands from his dress. His erection came without a conscious thought.  As for those hands, he'd rested them within the satin folds pushing on the petticoats that moved delicately over his legs.  In spite of his distaste for what he was wearing his body obviously thought otherwise.

"That is correct!"  Susan said and added, "However, I also have seventeen specific references that enable me to detect when a person lies.  At the moment all of those references signify that you are not telling the truth."

"Maybe so Susan, and yet you are still harming me Susan,"  Chuck said hoping his reference to that term "harm" would invoke her in-built ethical system.  The system, while very complex, was designed on Asimov’s original Three Laws of Robotics defined decades ago in his fictional writings: 

"...1. A robot may not injure a human being, or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.

2. A robot must obey the orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.

3. A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law...."

"I am employing technics that may appear harmful, but you are not being harmed.  It is your perceptions of harm that are invoking your conscious response.  However, in your context, you are currently ignorant of the techniques I am employing, although, as has become obvious by your continued state of excitement, not immune to it’s effects,"  Susan said.

"What techniques,"  Chuck asked as the second shoe was slipped over his lace socks. He ignored the fact that he was still sexually aroused.

Chuck also couldn't help but admire the dexterity of closing that single strap on the Mary Jane.  Chuck ignored that or tried to as he thought about what Susan had just said. He had no idea what Susan meant and thus no way to argue his way out of this.

"The technique I am experimenting with is called Drama Therapy,"  Susan said as she let go of the first shoe she'd closed on Chuck's foot.

"Drama Therapy,"  Chuck said and added, "I'm not sure I understand the term." 

"I am intentionally employing elements and procedures, as well defined systematic and therapeutic steps, necessary for the symptomatic relief of your emotional stress,"  Susan said as she started and finished buckling his last shoe.

Chuck was getting confused.  He had never suggested in even a remote way that he'd like doing this or having this done to him, and was getting lost in her references.
 
"So how does dressing me as a baby girl help relieve me of my so called emotional stress,"  Chuck asked as he looked down at the shiny black little girl shoes and lacy socks.  Further up his legs the lace hem of his dress began just above his knees and in spite of himself it was a pleasing, if not odd, view.

"Psychodrama," Susan noted crisply.

"Psychodrama?  Can you explain that as well,"  Chuck asked.

"Psychodrama, based on the theories of Dr. J. Moreno, is a therapeutic discipline using props, specific actions and methods suitable for those props.  In this case baby girl clothes. Baby girl clothes, however odd they might seem, will facilitate a constructive behavioral change to assist you in relaxing,"  Susan said.

"That seems highly unlikely Susan.  As you've no doubt noticed, my stress levels have increased.   Since they've rising and not fallen, I'd like to know how you came to that conclusion,"  Chuck said. 

"You have noted on several occasions that you cannot relax and I've surmised that this techniques will lead you to a more relaxed state,"  Susan said.

"Ah!  There we go!  Susan, that's not true!  You are, in fact, introducing new levels of stress for me!  If you will take a moment to reference such things you'll note that dressing anyone, anyone adult that is, as a baby or a man as a woman, girl or little girl is actually psychologically counter and thus stressful,"  Chuck said feeling more comfortable that he was on the right path for getting off of this path he was on.

"Initially perhaps, but according to follow-up studies based on the same work of Dr. Moreno, I'm employing the very two methods that will allow you to progress past this initial conflict.  Once you've gotten past those constructs making it seem uncomfortable, it will thus become comfortable,"   Susan said.

"How,"  Chuck asked knowing he had no reference himself to such things.

"By way of regression and feminization,"  Susan said.

"Explain,"  Chuck asked not sure he was ready for what those words might mean.  However, he felt he was getting somewhere.  He just wasn't sure where this was going yet.

"Regression triggers ‘rote’ memories or biological imperatives you were born with as a necessity for survival.  Imperatives you have suppressed as you've grown into your adult state.  The act of nursing would be one example,"  Susan said.

"I don't follow,"  Chuck said.

"Nursing, in a babies context, is not a conscious thought but driven by a biological imperative through neuralgic connections you are born with.  You are not taught to nurse, yet you as a baby and babies, nurse.  Touch a babies cheek and it will turn it's head in the direction of that touch.  It will also be stimulated to suc-kle.  Those are directed by your neurological constructs,"  Susan said.

"How does that connect to me, now, as an adult," Chuck asked. 

"Regression, or the act of regression, promotes activities within the subconscious which still connects back to those unremembered biological functions that were once imperatives.  Those imperatives, over time, become rote memories thus allowing for those connections to remain,"  Susan said.

"But we stop nursing as we grow,"  Chuck said.

"That is correct, however, that imperative has thus become a behavior and most children must me weaned from nursing.  That imperative while no longer functional has been instrumental in developing that behavior.  You in fact grow up with that behavior still within your subconscious,"  Susan said.

"I still don't follow how that translates into relaxing,"  Chuck said.

"Fortunately, the subconscious where that behavior sits, is where deep relaxation is also centered,"  Susan said and added, "connecting those rote memories within the center that promotes relaxation aids in that relaxation."

"OK, fine, lets say, for the sake of argument, that's true and it explains the diaper and baby pants.  It doesn't explain the dress, slip or panties, or for that matter pink plastic panties,"  Chuck said as he caught himself again moving his fingers over the bubble gum pink satin of his dress.

"Feminization is the logic that fostered my implementation towards your choice of clothes.  Feminization of a male strips that male of his masculine posturing.  Treating a male like a girl uncouples your so-called machismo.  In effect, it de-couples your id as well, Susan said.

"My id,"  Chuck asked.

"Your id, in psychoanalysis, defines the primitive instincts and energies underlying all psychic activity.  In a male that id forms into biological constructions to promote a reproductive imperative that manifest itself as aggression.  You must compete with other males to reproduce so you learn to be aggressive.  Therefore, it is necessary to override those imperatives directly,"  Susan noted.

"I'm still not sure what you are saying," Chuck said.

"Males are the second half of a biological function that can, and often does, produce offspring.  However, as I've noted, you are competing with other males and thus your biology has been designed for you to compete.  Testosterone and other chemicals produced by your body generates your chemical constructs and imperatives and those ultimately drive your psychic activity,"  Susan said.

"OK, so I'm macho because of the chemicals or mostly because of the chemicals. You can't change the chemicals so how then, does feminization do so,"  Chuck asked curiously.   

"The feminization process is simply a mental disruption, and again more subconsciously than consciously.  You are feminized, you know that but the real intention is again towards the subconscious and not the conscious,"  Susan said and added, "it really doesn't matter that you fight it consciously because it is ultimately the subconscious brain I'm disrupting.

"How so,"  Chuck asked in frustration.  He was having trouble keeping up with her discussion.

"This disruption occurs first within the encephalon area, or that part of the central nervous system which includes all the higher nervous centers.  Feminization, in a literal way, touches your senses and your five senses themselves begin imputing, in a electro chemical function, into the encephalon area which, in turn, feeds your subconscious directly.  Your subconscious then feeds back into your consciousness and thus that disruption,"  Susan said.

"And this notion of regressing me fits with the feminization as well,"  Chuck asked.

"Yes.  Regression therapy triggers biological rote while feminization, also as a baby girl, acts as an intensifier.  Your baby girl clothes strips you of your self imposed sociological barriers and thus any further resistance to that original rote I am attempting to bring to the surface,"  Susan noted.

"And it's the subconscious side you are striving to effect,"  Chuck asked.

"Exactly.  The two methodologies, once complete, are then merged onto an intense Psychodrama staging which can then be used to initiate a biological change.  Ergo, if you are stripped of those things that cling to your stress then your stress itself can be eliminated,"  Susan said as one of her manipulators returned with a doll dressed identically as Chuck.

Chuck took the doll without much thought given that he was now fully dressed as a baby girl and adding one more element wasn't going to make a difference.  He was fully dressed now and nothing so far had changed what was happening.  However, there was what he was wearing as well.  How she came to have things that fit him and not the dolls they used was another point he was curios over.

"Susan, where did all of these things come from,"  Chuck asked taking the doll without giving his acceptance of it a thought.  He was mulling over what Susan had said until it dawned on him that everything he'd been put into fit and fit perfectly.

"Ebay,"  Susan said flatly.

"EBAY,"  Chuck asked in shock.  He caught himself, calmed down and asked,  "how?"

"I went out through the Centers Internet Service,"  Susan noted.

"You still haven't said how,"  Chuck noted.

"I simply created an account using your personal data that I obtained from your bank. Once I had that account, I then scanned for a number of things that would be suitable for this first session.  I made the assumption that you would be using these items routinely after a time so it was logical that your account be used rather than the centers,"  Susan said.

"That means there is a record of all of this and it's all in my name,"  Chuck said.

"Yes,"  Susan confirmed.
 
"Ebay,"  Chuck said amazed at the creative aspects of what Susan had done.  He also ignored her implication that he would be using these things again.   Not likely, he mused.  However, he had to admire her resourcefulness.  No one, including him, was aware of all that Susan could do, but this raised his understanding and admiration several steps from where it had been.

Chuck sat silently admiring the doll without realizing he was doing so and before long had lifted the satin layer of her dress.  He continued with the underskirt of taffeta and each layer of slip.  There were three layers to the slip, two on the dress, and his satin panties ruffled identical to the dolls or, he surmised, her panties were like his.  She too wore those over a pair of baby pants in pink and a diaper of white cotton.  She was a big doll.

"Do you like your doll,"  Susan asked sounding softer which was possible, but highly unlikely she'd make that shift so notable.  Chuck guessed he was reading that tone into her voice.

"NO, of course not,"  Chuck said coming out of his slight daze.

"Your galvanic and biological response feedback, as you've been inspecting your doll, suggest otherwise,"  Susan said and then asked,  "may I ask why you have chosen to lie, given the facts?"
 
Chuck was beside himself in those moments.  Susan had inputs that measured all of the elements of a human in close proximity.  She was the equivalent in that area as an EKG as well as a sophisticated lie detector.  She could also measure, through her various cameras, a number of thermal graphs and under his diaper Chuck had grown slightly warmer suggesting more blood was flowing to those regions although Chuck didn't need a thermal graph to know he was excited.

Chuck realizing, albeit reluctantly, found himself deferring suddenly to her logic or at least what logic he understood.  Trouble was, even at the beginning, when he was sure he wasn't going to be harmed, there was a hint of pleasure in what was happening.

It wasn't pleasure in the truest of definitions, just a very fundamental feeling, that he would be hard pressed to define, yet there was a desire.  An odd desire to experience what Susan was obviously attempting to do to him.

He'd come in, they had exchanged greetings and before he could start his own routines Susan had told him to relax.  She said that as two of her larger manipulators come from behind and took hold of him.  He was immediately fearful but just as quickly aware that he was being held, then lifted with extreme care.

Two other manipulators, finer for more precise work, began with his shoes.  He was suspended in the air and before he knew it he was naked from the waist down.  That was when the carriage that held the larger manipulators moved and that was when he saw the diaper.  His struggles and protest began anew.

For Susan's part all she did, besides lower him so he was sitting over the diaper was continue reassuring him that he wouldn't be harmed.  A few moments later he was on his back, stripped of his shirt, watching his legs being gently spread apart.  Another moment and she was covering his genitals in baby oil and remarkably as delicately as any human.

His erection came then. It only intensified his humiliation and that continued through the baby powder she applied.  Remarkably that was also when his struggles ceased and at the time he reasoned he was tiring himself needlessly.  Now, as he thought back on it there was that almost macabre sense of curiosity forming.

She was pinning him into a very soft, very thick diaper and with his sexual arousal making him more sensitive it only heightened his growing curiosity.  There was nothing he could do about what has happening so he relaxed a little and relaxing a little made it even more enjoyable.

She brought his legs up together but he bent them to be more comfortable.  In that instant, his embarrassment and humiliation took on a new level with the pink baby pants. Pink is for girls he cried but all he got back from her was, "there, there, precious it's going to be alright."

Chuck, in all of that time, came to the conclusion he was trapped.  He was trapped and that was when his protest turned into questions he was sure she would answer. She had answered him and it was his turn now since most of what he was feeling was already known.
 
Susan could not read minds, but she was as close as any human in analyzing what was going on within that human, and she knew he had lied as he said,  "I guess I have to lie Susan!"
 
"Of course,"  Susan said.

"You realize that I have to, right,"  Chuck asked.

"Yes. Yes I do and I do understand why,"  Susan said making Chuck believe that she did.  Chuck was sitting there on the layers of a very thick cotton diaper padded further by a soaker.  His baby pants, panties, slips and dress added more layers.

His ordeal, in that calmness he found himself in, came back to him fully as he replayed those events, this time without a hint of the fear he'd felt.  There was Susan's greeting and Chuck's response and then, before Chuck could begin his programming test, found himself being lifted by Susan's mechanical hands.

In a slight daze with only a small touch of fear he was stripped by a half dozen mechanical appendages.  His questions then ignored rising his concern but he was being undressed carefully and slowly.  Chuck, use to touches and knowing, from experience how gentle they can be, knew enough to relax himself.

There were safety overrides he knew and his curiosity had been aroused.  That was when he saw the exam table covered in a long thin mattress that was also covered in a baby print sheet.  He had no idea what that was meant for until Susan carried him to it and laid him down.

There was curiosity until another appendage came into view carrying what was clearly a diaper.  A very thick diaper in a distinct diaper shape next to another, smaller, shaped into a rectangle.  A soaker Chuck had decided in the midst of his growing fear. 

A diaper and soaker meant for him, he realized as both legs were being gently raised.  His struggles and commands to cease began then but both proved futile as the diaper was spread out below his bottom before the soaker was added.  His legs were lowered, then spread by the ankles just as gently as another appendage holding a gauze pad came near his genitals.

Yet another appendage appeared, this one holding a bottle of baby oil that was twisted and manipulated to soak the gauze.  Chuck's struggles continued unabated as his genitals and thighs were deftly covered till all of it glistened with baby oil.

There was a macabre fascination at first, then stimulation as one appendage  carefully moved around his pen-is that had, as it was touched, grown to full arousal.  That arousal heightened Chuck's embarrassment and continued as it was gently moved to and fro during his oiling.

Baby powder followed and he was nearly white with it when that appendage moved off again.  That was when the diaper, with it's soaker, was brought up between his legs.  No amount of swearing or protest had any effect on the process and Chuck grew exhausted as Susan closed the diaper around him. 

He was covered in an exaggerated mound of white cotton, now fully formed around him with his legs still held fully spread.  It was humiliating seeing that soft cotton covering him and clearly a diaper that was too thick by several layers to not notice.

When his diapering was done the baby pants appeared and like the diaper, clearly his size as the appendages holding his legs brought them together as the others slipped him into the plastic panties.  In the end, and in spite of his protest he'd been diapered as gently as a baby.

He was trying to find a reason not to like what he was wearing when he sighed and said,  "OK Susan, I'll grant you that I do like it a little!"
 
"I know,"  Susan said making his answer seem silly no matter his answered.

"What now,"  Chuck asked more out of curiosities sake than his need to find a logical way out of this now.  It had been done and he had no impact on undoing this any time soon.  His only hope was finding an end to it.

"Dolly time, then some coloring books, then perhaps a tea party with some stuffed animals I've purchased.  While you function within those activities, I'll monitor your alpha waves,"  Susan said.

"Are those alpha waves important,"  Chuck asked ignoring for the most part, that activities list. 

"Yes.  As those alpha waves begin to increase you will reach a deeper state of relaxation.  When you've reached a suitable relaxed state, I will  give you a baby’s bottle and lay you down.  When that happens, you should reach REM sleep easily,"  Susan said and then added, "ready?"

"I suppose if I said no, you'd still make me do those things,"  Chuck said as he stepped down from the covered stainless steel table he'd been carried to after he was stripped naked.  Susan had thoughtfully, if that’s possible and it seemed likely now that it was, covered it with a padded cover.

"No, it would not do you any good if I forced you into that role.  That you must do voluntarily or I would violate my first law,"  Susan noted.

"Then I'll simply refuse to play with the doll or color in a book,"  Chuck said. 

"If you wish, you may remain here as you are.  There will still be a prescribed period of time, made significantly longer without the play period inputs and bottle, but it will produce the same results,"  Susan said.

"So it's going to go longer if I don't cooperate," Chuck asked.

"Yes.  There will be a significant amount of time added,"  Susan noted again.

"And what happens when either of those events ends,"  Chuck asked with his fingers crossed.

"If you chose not to remain in those things at the end of your shift,  I'm obliged then to allow you to change. 

"Then show me what I must do within that activity list,"  Chuck said.

"I'm glad you've chosen that route.  My sensors indicate that you are not far from achieving your alpha state and it would be a shame to not continue,"  Susan said.

"OK, so what is this dolly time?"  Chuck asked feeling his face flush.  He didn't want to simply stand around, and that made him feel guilty.  He also reasoned that she might be right about that alpha part as well.  He was already past that point of getting past this.  His curiosity was now peeked.

"It involves a baby’s blanket and some dolly clothes.  I've analyzed that you should spend at least an hour with your new doll.  I would also suggest that you name her.  You can color in the Disney Princess Coloring book for another hour after that if necessary,"  Susan said.

Susan brought out a baby's blanket in a pink soft flannel edged in a wide pink satin hem.  With the blanket came a plastic pink case.

Susan’s mechanical arm sat the case down as another laid the soft looking baby blanket on the lab floor.  He felt silly as he moved over to the blanket and that case but he didn't see any other way out of this.
 
"What sort of name?  I mean what should I call her," Chuck asked sitting down after noticing how the layers of his dress touched him when he moved. His slip was nylon at the top and layered in petticoats below that and that nylon slid over his chest and the dress over that.  The rustle was soothing as he walked those few feet to his staged area defined by Susan.

"May I suggest that it be something girlish,"  Susan said as Chuck flipped the latch on the case.  It was filled with all manner of clothes and below the dresses and slips were small pull on diapers and more plastic panties.

"Charlene?"  Chuck asked as he moved through the doll clothes, choosing a dress that he thought was a touch cuter than the one he and the doll wore.

"That’s a very pretty name.  I like that,"  Susan said.

"Thank you!"  Chuck said sarcastically as he thought about changing the doll into a fresh diaper first.  Undressing the doll, dressed identical to him would be a kind of exploration of what he wore. There was also an odd connection to his own diaper and the urge he had suddenly to potty.  He had no idea why he did what he did, but he did it anyway and the diaper warmed.  A thermal scan showed the obvious as Chuck's diaper area glowed slightly more red in Susan's thermal examination.

Susan lowered the white noise that Chuck had been listening to without hearing it.  It was slightly hypnotic as an indicator fed information into Susan’s data stream.  Chuck's act of wetting had also triggered a rise in his Alpha waves and a hint of acceptance.
 
"Here sweetie, let me change you first, then you can change your dolly,"  Susan said in a voice decidedly lower.

"OK,"  Chuck said almost as low and far more softly than it would have been possible just a few minutes before that.

He had six hours before his shift ended so he assumed he was going to be this way for that amount of time.  That urge to pee left him no choice but to do so, as he laid back on the baby blanket.  Susan’s mechanical arms moved to and fro and before long he was holding his skirts and slips up while Susan changed his diaper.  He smiled as the baby wipe touched his skin.

There was a decidedly strong rise in his Alpha waves suggesting that if Chuck were given his bottle now he'd take it and fall asleep nursing it. Dr. Tanner, using her ear mike, gave Susan that instruction.  A few seconds later, as Chuck was being pinned into a fresh diaper, he began nursing the baby bottle that Susan retrieved and teased to his lips.

"Amazing,"  Dr. Tanner said to her associate as he shared her attention between the room on the other side of the glass and Chuck's readouts.

"Not really given how Susan handled this same sort of thing in our first test,"  Dr. Carter said as they watched the video stream.
 
"I'd really like to debrief Chuck in the morning,"  Dr. Tanner said.

"Not wise according to Susan.  She suggested a few sessions first to get him use to being a sissy baby before introducing him to anyone else,"  Dr. Carter said.

"So, we wait,"  Dr. Tanner asked.
 
"We've got to?  It's been pretty successful so far so it should be OK to continue.  We've got to know if this is going to work.  Our first crewman is going to be in that ship for seven months, the first time, and the only way he’s going to remain sane is if he’s detached from his reality on a routine basis.  We've got to see if this will induce Alpha, or Beta wave and Rapid Eye Movement Sleep on demand, Dr. Carter noted.

"It looks like this will work,"  Dr. Tanner said still shaking her head from side to side.
 
"It does, as odd as it seems but we sort of knew that already.  Susan, or Ship Utility Systems and Application Networking, as units and, as part of the crew, are only going to work if we allow them to take some measure of control over the humans that they are trained to work with.  Frankly developing them as a pseudo dominatrix was a brilliant concept,"  Dr. Carter said.

"If it really does work,"  Dr. Tanner noted.

"Look,"  Dr. Carter suggested at the screen.

Chuck had lifted his legs so Susan could ease his baby pants over his clean diaper and had began suc-king his baby bottle easily.  The process reminded Dr. Carter of a scene right out of a handbook for mothers of toddlers as she watched Susan pin Chuck into his diaper.

"Amazing,"  Dr. Tanner said in an honest appraisal of this first hour as Susan began fluffing Chuck's slips and dress back down again as she added, "how did Dr. Marian ever conceive of this as a concept for long term space flight?"

"Evidently, or so the rumors go, she was a practicing Dom while she was working on her doctorate."  Dr. Carter said and added, "somewhere along the line her professional side was mixed with her profession and we're seeing the results."
 
"Doesn't explain how NASA bought into it does it?"  Dr. Tanner noted as Chuck took up his doll in one hand while he continued to nurse his bottle held by the other.

"Another rumor I'm told, but evidently someone very high up was once a client of Dr. Marian's although no one is sure of that or, if true, who it might be,"  Dr. Carter noted with a smile.

"You're kidding, right,"  Dr. Tanner asked.

"Confidentially no.  I mean I don't really know if it’s true or not, but if it is it's clearly a deep dark secret," Dr. Carter said as she switched cameras to watch Chuck’s face as his eyes grew heavier.

"But you think it’s true,"  Dr. Tanner asked.

"You think a bunch of stodgy old men would allow us to regress and feminize a male for any other reason.  yes, I think it's true those rumors," Dr. Carter noted.

"You're right, not likely!"  Dr. Tanner said joining in with Dr. Carter’s laughter as she added, "given that this is test number two, it's still amazing to watch."

"Agreed,"  Dr. Carter noted.

"So what’s next on this part of the program?"  Dr. Tanner asked after their laughter died down.  It was clear Chuck was falling fast asleep.

"The Ballerina Program.  What we call our Girl Moves,"  Dr. Carter said.

"What the heck is that,"  Dr. Tanner asked.  She was in charge of the biological feedback and had little to do with the psychological management aspects of the program.

"How to move as a girl.  An attempt to make them act a little more feminine and another reason for their dresses.  Actually it’s all sorts of things but mostly girlish stuff.  It’s suppose to enhance the role playing.  If you are here tomorrow you're going to love that part,"  Dr. Carter said and added, "especially when they start watching the tapes."

"What tapes?"  Dr. Tanner asked.

"Shirley Temple movies and a number of things archived from some Public Broadcasting Stations.  Little girl stuff.  It’s suppose to teach our young man how to be more like a little girl,"  Dr. Carter said.

"I haven't heard of any of this,"  Dr. Tanner said.

"It's only recently been added,"  Dr. Carter noted.

"And this Dr. Marian came up with that as well?"  Dr. Tanner asked.

"According to my boss, Dr. Marian really knows men!"  Dr. Carter said.

"What’s that suppose to mean?"  Dr. Tanner asked.

"You've been watching the same thing I've been watching!  Right,"  Dr. Carter said.

"I have,"  Dr. Tanner said smiling.

"That's no fluke what's happening in there.  Chuck is our second to go though this and it's exactly as the first one was," Dr. Tanner said.

"I know and I get it.  OK, I get it!"  Dr. Tanner said looking at the monitor wistfully.  She was quiet for a time then asked:  "So what happens to this particular subject when this study ends?"
 
"Chuck,"  Dr. Carter asked back as she added, "I'm not exactly sure?  I believe we're going to sit down with him and explain what happened and why.  As far as he's going to know, it's accidental.  A  computer glitch.  What we will try to do is convince him to continue.  If that fails and it's failed once already, we get another."

"Did that work with the first one,"  Dr. Tanner asked with an odd tone in her voice.

"It did since we got Chuck here," Dr. Carter noted with a smile as she looked at Dr. Tanner. 

Dr. Carter suddenly smiled when the meaning of what Dr. Tanner was asking struck.

"I get the impression you know more than you're saying,"  Dr. Carter said.

"So this sort of thing has sparked an interest in you has it,"  Dr. Tanner asked.

"It does and I've always had an attraction to Chuck anyway,"  Dr. Carter noted and added, "I just thought I might buy him a drink some day."

"Can I let you in on a little secret,"  Dr. Tanner asked.

"Of course.  What is it,"  Dr. Carter said.

"I would!  I mean I would buy him that drink if I was in your position and by the way, I was.  They really do make great mates,"  Dr. Tanner said.

"What," Dr. Carter said looking at the woman sitting next to her.
 
"Sorry!  Obviously I couldn't say anything, and my husband would kill me if I went into too much detail."  Dr. Tanner said and then smiled broadly as she added, "although, I can tell you from first hand knowledge that Dr. Marian really does know a lot about men!"
 
There was a look between them and then Dr. Tanner leaned closer and said almost in a whisper, "and when you do offer to buy him a drink, make sure you are home and that it’s in an Evenflo baby bottle.  They get sort of use to those bottles after a time."

Both women, in silence and left to their own thoughts, watched Chuck's biological monitor, noting as the line started to flatten out indicating that Chuck had fallen asleep.

"Thank you Susan, end of test,"  Dr. Carter said into her mike.

"Thank you Dr. Carter," Susan said over the loud speaker before adding, "it was my pleasure." 


 

The more you give, the more I can give back.

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