Simon
By Wersgor
Chapter 2: PROGRAMMING
I could barely concentrate on my job the next day; all I could think about was getting back to Simon’s house at 5:15, and wondering what condition I would find him in. Fortunately, my job doesn’t require much concentration. UniChem does work on some interesting projects, including some hush-hush ones for the government, but I only hear about those through cafeteria gossip; I’m the guy who always gets stuck testing some product that turns out to give lab rats dandruff.
When I got there I was almost disappointed to have a normal-acting Simon answer the door. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said, looking like he meant it but trying to make it sound humorous. “Ken’s been here for hours, and I’m running out of groceries.”
He led me down the little hall to the living room, where Ken was sprawled on the sofa tinkering with some metal wiring. “Oh, hi,” he said distractedly. “I think I’ve got it, Simon. Yeah, this should do it—when I attach this it’ll put a constant reverse pressure on your mainspring, forcing it slightly back every time it moves forward. You oughta be able to go twenty, maybe even thirty hours before you run down.”
Simon looked dubious but hopeful. “Thanks, Ken. I really hope you’re right. I can’t keep calling in sick without seeing a doctor, and that would be a really bad idea.”
Yeah, thanks, Ken, I thought a bit crossly, though I knew what he was doing was for the best—for Simon, if not for me.
“Hey, baby, I’m your handyman,” Ken grinned, mimicking the old soft-rock tune. “Let’s hook it up.”
Simon obediently hitched up his polo shirt and tapped his pecs, popping open the door that exposed his insides. That still gave me a queasy feeling, like seeing someone rip a Band-Aid off an open cut, although the sight of Simon’s bare abs was almost enough to make me forget it. Ken hunched down in front of him and started working with the wires. “God, I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he said. “And I especially can’t believe I’m doing it for free. I could get on the cover of every tabloid in the country.”
Simon glanced at me worriedly. “But you wouldn’t, right, Ken? You promised you’d keep th”
There was no break in his voice, no pause—he just stopped. Ken held up a hand, displaying the tiny key he had just pulled out of Simon’s back. “Cool, huh? No key, no power—instant shut-off. I’ve been finding out all kinds of neat stuff.”
“Knock it off!” I snapped. “He’s going to be really pissed if you keep messing with him.”
Ken just chuckled. “No, he won’t. Watch.” He reached around to Simon’s back and stuck the key back in.
“is a secret,” Simon continued, as if nothing had happened.
“Relax,” Ken told him, winking at me. “You’re in good hands with me. Dave can testify to that—he knows my hands really well.”
I frowned, though I was relieved to see that Simon was no worse for having his “plug pulled”. In fact, what Ken had just shown me was filling my mind with ideas... and, from the smirk on his face, I had a feeling Ken knew it. “What else have you found out about Simon?” I couldn’t resist asking.
“Oh, loads of stuff,” he said cheerfully. “I’ll show you.”
“Hey, guys,” Simon complained, “don’t talk about me as if I’m not h”
“But you’re not here,” Ken retorted, putting the pulled key aside on the end table. Simon’s mouth remained open, the look of annoyance frozen on his face, his lithe body standing like a sculpture. Ken glanced at my crotch and grinned mischievously, and I blushed as I realized that my cock was straining against my pants. Seeing Simon put out of action so instantly, and knowing he was totally unaware of his statue-like condition, was giving me a fierce hard-on!
Ken pointed to the top reel of paper tape in Simon’s open chest. “You notice the tape’s stopped moving. The spools can’t turn without power; they’ll start again as soon as the key is replaced, and the tape will resume from where it left off. That tape is what we call Simon—his personality, his memory, everything. The rest is just a machine.”
My mind was boggling. “He’s not just a machine,” I said defensively. “He’s still a person. He has feelings, he has a personality—”
I broke off in horror as Ken reached up, twisted Simon’s neck, and pulled his head off! It lay in his hands, looking up at the ceiling, its face frozen in its miffed expression, staring just as if it was looking at us. Simon’s body remained standing exactly as it was, his neck open to reveal a maze of wires and circuits. I felt like I was going to faint.
“What’s the matter?” Ken snickered. “Don’t you want him to give you some head?” He bounced it lightly in his hands like a basketball.
“What have you done?” I gasped. “You’ve killed him!”
“No, I haven’t. I’ve done this three times already. Look.” He lifted Simon’s head, placed it back on his shoulders, and pushed. With a loud click, it snapped into place. “See? Insert Tab A into Slot B. He’ll never know it happened.”
“Don’t do things like that!”
“Just trying to prove a point. This isn’t Simon. That’s Simon.” He pointed to the motionless reel of tape. “And he can’t be killed, because he isn’t alive, so stop worrying.”
I stared at the little strip of paper that my Simon had been reduced to. “Why are there two reels of tape?” I asked, then realized something. “Hey, what happened to the bottom reel? The spools are empty!”
“I took it home so I could study it.” Ken pulled it out of his shirt pocket. “I figured the top one was the one that was operating, so if that was Simon’s identity, what was the other? I spent the whole night cracking its code.”
I wanted to yell You can’t just take parts of him home with you!, but after what I’d just seen, I realized that that would only be a straight line he couldn’t resist. I ought to be grateful he hadn’t taken something else home! “So what is it?” I asked.
“I’m glad you asked,” he said, hamming it up like a used-car salesman. “What you have here, my friend, is the alternate program—the bare essentials, you might say, without all that complicated human stuff. Observe.”
He reached in and very carefully pulled the Simon tape off its spools, making sure not to move it from its position. He gently laid it on the end table next to the key, then slid the other tape into place where that one had been. Then he took the key and inserted it in Simon’s back.
An instant later the spools began turning the tape. Simon turned stiffly to look at us, his eyes seeing but unblinking. His lips moved, but he didn’t complete what he had been saying. Instead the voice that emerged was toneless and mechanical: “PROGRAM INITIATED.”
“That’s not Simon!” I exclaimed.
Ken looked aggrieved. “I told you,” he said patiently. “The other tape is Simon. This one is just the basics—pure robot. Childishly simple, once I figured out the code. In fact, a really easy program to make adjustments to.” He turned to Simon and ordered, “Function One.”
“INITIATED,” Simon droned. Without changing his expression, he stiffly dropped a hand, unbuckled his belt, and undid his pants, letting them drop to the floor. His dick rose stiffly up, not quivering at all, just rising like a drawbridge until it stuck straight out.
By contrast, I was quivering like crazy, thinking: Ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod -
“Function Two,” smiled Ken.
“INITIATED.” Simon shot a load like a stream from a water pistol. I gasped as it hit me right in the groin, and felt my own cock happily responding in my pants. A faint machine-oil smell filled the air.
Ken was beaming delightedly. “You like?”
I stared at Simon, who gazed back expressionlessly. “Does... does he even know what he just did?”
“Pay attention,” he said with annoyance. “Simon. Isn’t. Here. The robot knows that it just performed a function. Simon don’t know nada.” He glanced at my wet crotch with amusement. “Y’know, I never gave you anything for your birthday. Let me make it up to you. Function Three.”
“INITIATED.” Simon stepped stiffly forward and dropped to his knees in front of me. His hands reached up to unzip me, and I trembled at his touch. His mouth formed an O shape.
“Happy birthday,” said Ken, as Simon began to smoothly suck me, his lips and tongue working unspeakable wonders while his face remained a total blank. I had just come a moment ago, but I found myself moaning as if I hadn’t had it in years, clinging to Simon’s strong back to keep the waves of sensation from bringing me to my own knees. He made the perfect support, steel-hard and immobile, only his head performing its function. His bare ass stuck up in the air, and I groped feverishly, not quite able to reach it from my position. I settled for the feel of that broad back in my hands, my mind reeling and my eyes shutting in ecstasy as he sent me into heaven.
Finally I let out a groan that should have brought the neighbors running, gripping Simon’s steely shoulders as my cum flooded his mouth. I slumped over his head, gasping for breath, and heard an equally loud sigh nearby. Opening my eyes, I saw Ken lying across Simon’s stiff back, with a happy smile on his handsome face and his dick shoved up Simon’s butt. I decided that, for once, I wasn’t irritated with him at all.
And then we moved on to Function Four. And Function Five. And Function Six...
Quite a while later Simon said, “ere.” Then he looked around in confusion. “Hey, you’re not where you were before. I’m not where I was before! You turned me off!”
“Sorry,” I said, trying hard to look sheepish instead of deliriously happy. “You know how Ken loves to show off.”
Simon glared at Ken, but after a moment he smiled ruefully. “You know, I should be mad as hell, but I’m not. In fact, the weird thing is, I feel really... funky. Like there’s some kind of wild energy running through me.”
“There is,” Ken told him. “The way you’re set up, any reactivation after more than a minute or two creates an energy surge through all your circuits. It’s almost like the robot version of an orgasm. But you’re probably not familiar with those.”
Simon blushed furiously, but I could tell from his face that what Ken said was true—that, in his own unique way, it had been as good for him as it was for us. I was glad. In a perfect paradox, Simon was turned on by being turned off.
I gave Ken a lift home, and on the way I said cautiously, “So you can pretty much make any changes you want in the number two tape, the robot tape. But not the Simon tape.”
Predictably, he retorted, “I didn’t say that. It’d be more work, yeah—it’s a much more complicated program. But I could do it with a little time. Why? What’ve you got in mind?”
I phrased my words carefully; I couldn’t quite bring myself to tell someone like Ken that I was seriously in love, especially with someone we had just finished using as a sex toy. “I’m just thinking of how closeted he is,” I said. “It would be so much better for him if he could be open about his feelings.”
“Hmm.” Ken rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “That’s an interesting challenge. I like a challenge. I’ll work on it.”
For the rest of the evening my mind was distracted by that thought. If Simon could express his real feelings, what would they be? I was a little afraid to find out—what if he didn’t feel the same way I did? But then again, could I deal with having the chance to know and not taking it?
It bothered me a little that I was so dependent on Ken. I didn’t think for a moment that he would betray Simon’s secret; he was having too much fun. But he wasn’t the most reliable person in the world, and we were relying on him for an awful lot. I’m no moron when it comes to machines myself, but it would take me years to reach Ken’s level of expertise. He was calling the shots for the man I secretly loved, and in a strange way, I felt a bit jealous.
By 11:00 I couldn’t resist calling Simon. “I just was wondering how you’re doing,” I said rather lamely. “If Ken’s doohickey kept you from running down again.”
“It seems to be working fine. I’m pretty sure I can go to work as usual tomorrow. The odd thing, though, is... I almost miss running down. I’m starting to realize that I don’t need sleep any more, and I’m used to sleep. It feels weird to know I’ll probably be wide awake all night without even getting tired.”
My heart leapt. “Would you, um, feel more normal if I came over and shut you down for the night? I could stay over and switch you on in the morning. If you want.”
There was a pause. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I would like that. It would make me feel... more human somehow.”
“I’ll be right over,” I promised, already beginning to breathe harder.
An hour later Simon was in his blue jammies, looking at me gratefully. “I... I’m really glad you came over, David. Thanks,” he said awkwardly.
“I’m glad to do it.” I felt almost ashamed—Simon couldn’t guess how glad I was to do it! “Do you want to lie down?”
“Yeah. In my bed, like a normal person.” He stretched out on his side in the center of the bed, a pillow under his head, leaving his back exposed so I could pull the key. “Okay. Go ahead.”
“Good night, Simon,” I said softly.
“Good n”
I gently stroked his immobile cheek, feeling an incredible sense of power as I gazed into those open, unseeing blue eyes. I forced myself to lay the key on his dresser very carefully, then practically leapt out of my own clothes and dove in beside him, shaking the bed. In fact, the bed did quite a lot of shaking during the next hour or two, as I passionately kissed his half-open mouth, maneuvered his rigid body so that we were sixty-nining, rammed myself into his ass again and again. At one point he wound up with two-thirds of his body hanging over the side—his head, his torso and those muscular arms sticking out as stiffly as an ironing board. It was a long time before I was exhausted enough to fall asleep.
At 7:00 AM the alarm woke me, and I groggily showered and dressed. Then I inserted the key, and Simon said, “ight.... Oh, man.” He grinned guiltily. “That really does give me a rush. I could get hooked on this.”
So could I, I thought, and told him, “Any time.”
Needless to say, I saw Simon after work every day that week. Sometimes Ken was there, sometimes not; being, as usual, “between jobs”, he often spent time “studying” Simon while I was tied up at the lab. I had a pretty good idea what much of that study consisted of, but who was I to talk? Here I was playing the role of concerned friend and nursemaid, then fucking my charge silly after I tucked him in for the night! By Wednesday it had occurred to me that if I set the alarm to go off an hour earlier, I could carry Simon with me to the shower, propping him up against the wall and watching the water stream across his blankly staring face. Mom always used to scold me for wanting to bring my toys into the tub...
On Fridays I always celebrate the new paycheck by having lunch at the Thai place half-a-dozen blocks from UniChem. Simon got off early on Fridays, and seeing him standing on a corner doing his mime routine was as much a part of the ritual as the lunch itself. But today when I drove past, there was a difference. Instead of, at best, a handful of pedestrians, waiting a bit sadistically for Simon to inevitably slip up, there was a whole crowd of people throwing away their lunch hours, standing and staring. I smiled as I realized why: Simon was totally immobile, not twitching a muscle or blinking an eye. He was offline! I saw Ken standing a short distance away; he spotted my car and waved, winking. He nodded toward the hat on the pavement beside Simon, which, for the first time ever, was stuffed with dollar bills.
I drove on feeling a happy glow. Simon might be out of it at the moment, but he was realizing his lifelong dream at last. I was glad I’d been there to see it.
Over the next few weeks I got happily accustomed to Simon’s new life. It became an expected daily pleasure—though never just routine!—to enjoy his company by day and his body by night. Ken was like part of the furniture, always sprawled in Simon’s easy chair fiddling with some circuitry or examining his program tapes. I even stopped being stunned—well, almost—when I would walk in and find Simon holding the sofa above his head with one steely arm while he vacuumed underneath with the other. I hadn’t stopped to think, at first, how much power was contained in a metal body.
But, though Simon was unwittingly spending a lot of his time as our sex toy, he remained bashful and closeted when he was himself. I guessed I could live with it, but it was a shame, for his sake even more than mine.
That was what I happened to be thinking one day, when I walked in after work as usual and found Simon and Ken entwined together on the sofa, going at it like a pair of rabbits.
“What the hell—?” I gasped.
Ken pulled back from where he was sucking on Simon’s tits and grinned. “Oh, hey.” Simon glanced up from where he was sucking on something larger and cheerfully echoed “Hey” with his mouth full.
I was speechless.
Reluctantly, they slowly sat up. “I thought he was getting a little boring,” Ken explained, " so I prepared a new program tape. No big challenge for me—a few patterns added, a few patterns deleted, and presto, new improved Simon.”
“Isn’t he brilliant?” sighed Simon adoringly.
“He’s much more efficient now,” Ken explained. “Watch: Cum, Simon.”
Simon instantly shot a tight stream, with inhuman accuracy, into Ken’s open mouth. But what came out of his metal dick was dark brown, with a weird tinge of green. “What the hell did you do to him now?” I choked.
“What, you don’t like variety? I just switched the contents of the cartridge. Now it’s mint-chocolate syrup. There’s one with strawberry, too. Yum!”
I glared accusingly. “How could you do this? You’ve changed his whole personality! What about his feelings? What about my feelings?”
“Hey, don’t worry, you can still use him. His body is my own, but I share.” Ken grinned. “You’ll fuck Dave whenever I tell you, won’t you, baby?”
“I’ll fuck anyone you want me to, Ken,” Simon assured him eagerly. “Making you happy is my reason for living.”
“I love it when he says that,” Ken smirked.
Simon beamed joyfully. “Making you happy is my reason for living,” he repeated, with exactly the same cadence and inflection.
I couldn’t help myself. I lunged at Ken, wanting to wrap my hands around his throat. But before I’d gotten close, Simon was between us, blocking my way with his open palm. I slammed to a full stop, unable to budge him; those literal muscles of steel could have stopped a grizzly.
“You mustn’t do that,” he said reasonably. “You know I can’t allow anyone to hurt Ken. He’s everything to me.”
I choked and ran from the house, feeling that I was going to throw up at any moment. Before the door slammed behind me, I heard Ken asking blankly, “What the hell is he on today? Oh, well, forget it; he’ll be back when he’s horny enough. Which reminds me, where were we...?”
I made it halfway down the block before I collapsed against a tree, clinging to its rough bark until I got ahold of myself. I couldn’t even be bothered to wonder if anyone was watching me have a breakdown in public. All I could think of was what that bastard had done to my friend. Was there anything left of the real Simon, the gentle, frightened innocent with whom I’d felt such a bond? Was there any way to bring him back? There must be! There must!
And then I remembered the cafeteria gossip I’d been hearing at work. I straightened up, a wild idea forming in my mind. There might be a way...