Thirty years.
It’s been thirty years now, since the androids first arrived.
It was in the middle of the Great War… well, it was more like they were the end of it, really.
Humanity was doing its level best to turn the Earth into a radioactive wasteland, and doing a pretty good job at it too.
Until one day, from one day to the next, all the advanced technology died and stopped working.
And the androids showed up.
Firing their stunners and stealing people away on their shuttle ships, never to be seen again.
They were easy to recognize, at first.
Graceful, sleek polymer bodies, looking human, and yet at the same time utterly alien.
Even when the newer, more human-like models came, they moved a little too stiffly, talked a little too unemotionally to really fool anyone.
Humanity stood a chance, then.
Ambushes, surprise attacks, hit-and-runs… it was a desperate fight, but it was a fight nonetheless.
And then the infiltration units came.
Completely indistinguishable from humans… until the stunners come out.
All of a sudden, ambushes became traps, and the only surprises left were unwelcome ones.
The androids were always one step ahead, and strangers became threats.
Paranoia took hold.
Things were looking desperate.
Until finally… salvation, of a sort.
The Holtzman field.
You don’t pretend to understand the details, you’re a military man, not a scientist.
All you know is that the generators are big and fragile, and that they keep the androids away.
Humanity started to lock themselves away in bunkers, protected by the infallible shield of the Holtzman fields.

Infallible, until yesterday.
Contact with a base was lost.
Just a minor outpost, nothing like the massive bastion that is Sparta Command.
But if the androids found a way around the field… it changes everything.

Which is why you’re currently making your way over to a small outpost in the middle of nowhere, trekking through the mountainous wasteland.
Alone and on foot.
You're all that can be spared, under the circumstances.
But you’re a ranger. 
One of the best.
Making your way unseen through the wasteland and bringing supplies or survivors home, it’s what you *do*.
It’s a long, two day journey, but you finally make it to the outpost.
The gate is wide open.
An obvious sign that something is terribly wrong.
As you get closer, something strikes you by its absence.
The telltale hum of the Holtzman field… it’s not there.
With a sinking feeling in your gut, you shoulder your rifle and make your way inside.

The dim illumination of the emergency lighting confirms your suspicions.
The power is still on, even though the Holtzman field is offline.
Strange.
You decide to move deeper into the base, to check out the machine room first.
You will feel a hell of a lot better if you can manage to turn the field generator back on.

You enter the machine room and stop dead in your tracks.
It’s shot.
Somebody blasted the delicate machinery of the generator apart with a firearm.
It’s insane.
It makes no sense whatsoever.
You haven’t heard of androids using anything other than stunners, and they wouldn't be able to get close enough in the first place.
Did a human do this?
Were you betrayed by one of your own?
You swear involuntarily.
And... a voice rings out in the gloom.
A woman’s voice.
“Is someone there? Please, help!”

You turn your back on the wreckage of the generator and stealthily creep through the hallway, alert and on your guard.
Clearing the rooms as you go, making sure there’s no dangers hiding in ambush.
When you’re finally satisfied, you make your way to the room from which the voice is calling.
You unlock the door and swing into the room, your rifle leading the way.
You see…
Eyes.
A pair of brilliant blue eyes,  looking up at you from the darkness.
Your heart skips a beat.
They’re gorgeous. 
*She’s* gorgeous.
Like a model from one of those pre-war magazines.
Her face is covered in grime and soot, but it doesn’t detract from her beauty.
It just makes her eyes pop more.
It feels like they’re boring into you, transfixing you, piercing you to your very core.
Hypnotic, that’s what they are.

The thought sends your imagination running wild.
You think about the way she would tell you to look *deeply* into her eyes.
The way your face would go slack as your thoughts dissolved in their depths.
And the way you would do whatever she told you to do, mindlessly obeying her every command.
It sounds so damn hot.
You almost wish that kind of thing were actually possible.
Almost.

You shake off the fantasy and raise your rifle again, shouting for her not to move.
She flinches, and you tear your eyes away from hers and quickly scan the room.
There seems to have been an explosion of some kind, a fuel cell perhaps?
You interrogate her as to what happened, but she claims to have been knocked out by the explosion.
A convenient story.
Admittedly, she *does* look like she was close to an explosion of some kind, her uniform is singed and covered in soot.
You check her tag.
Medical corps.
Hmm.
That could explain why she’s so calm, given the circumstances.
Then again, there’s always the chance she’s one of the androids, a new model of infiltrator.
Not that she could ever blend in anywhere, with her looks…
In the end, you decide it doesn’t matter.
You’ll try to take her prisoner, take her to Sparta Command.
Let an interrogator… or a hacker… figure out what she knows.
And if she turns murderous like cornered infiltrators always do… well, you hope your reflexes are still sharp enough.
You toss her the electro-shackles, demanding that she puts them on.
You tighten your finger on your trigger, bracing yourself for the transformation into a deadly blur of motion.
But she just scowls at you and dons the restraints without complaint.
You thumb the activator and the reassuring whine of an electro-charge arming fills the air.

You release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding.
“Happy now?” she asks sarcastically.
You nod, and indicate for her to get moving.

You walk through the wasteland together, making her stay in front of you all the time.
That way, you can keep an eye on her, and on the surroundings.

At first, the trip passes in uncomfortable silence.
But soon enough, she starts chattering away.
Telling stories about life in the outpost and about her childhood.
It’s quite all right with you, she has a very lovely voice.
And a very lovely behind, too.
You try to stay focused, to pay attention to your surroundings, but…
The way she walks, it’s just too fascinating.
The way her bottom moves in the tight pants of her uniform.
You can’t help it, it just keeps drawing your eye.
And before long, your eyes are riveted on her ass.

Swaying back and forth.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
As she keeps talking.
Droning on and on and on.
About things she saw in documentaries.
About nature and how the world used to be.
About trees and rivers and forests.
About how wonderfully relaxing it must be, to walk in these forests.
And all the time, her ass keeps swaying rhythmically in front of you.
Back and forth… back and forth.
You start getting engrossed in her stories.
Imagining yourself walking in those fantastic forests she’s talking about.
Letting your thoughts drift and just walking.
Walking and letting the landscape pass you by.
Just enjoying the moment.
The Feeling of the cool breeze against your skin.
The sound of her lovely voice.
And the sight of her shapely bottom, swaying in front of you.
Back and forth…
Back... and forth…

At some point, you find yourself looking into her mesmerizing blue eyes.
You hadn't realized she had stopped, or turned around.
You’re dimly aware that she’s holding you, speaking to you, but you don’t really grasp what she’s saying.
Good Lord, her eyes are incredible.
You could just sink into them.
Sink and sink and just keep sinking.
Deeper and deeper and…

Your wristwatch beeps.

Wha-?
Oh, right, time for your anti-rad pill.
Already?
You hadn’t realized it had gotten so late.
Your… "prisoner"... gets up from the floor. 

"Time to get going again?", she asks.
Yes.
Yes, break time's over.
You pop your pill and get up too.

It doesn’t take long before it starts getting dark and you’re forced to start looking for shelter.
Luckily, there’s some ruins not too far away that are intact enough to serve.

You tell her to get some sleep and lean against the wall, resigning yourself to a sleepless night of standing guard.
She scowls, and insists you trap the door and get some sleep as well.
She seems angry, claiming that she already had to insist on taking a break, that you were tired and zoning out and that you could get the both of you in trouble if you slipped up.
And… you have to admit she does have a point there. 
Your head wasn’t on straight today, and you were lucky that nothing bad happened because of it.
Eventually she relents, says that she understands if you don’t trust her, and suggests locking her shackles to a steel ring in the floor.
She says she’ll gladly be a little uncomfortable if it means you will sleep and not get her killed in the morning.

You agree.
You attach a tripwire to the door and lock her restraints to the floor.
You double-check them, making sure the shackles are armed and securely attached to the floor.
Then you triple-check them.
Finally satisfied, you settle down to sleep, your rifle in easy reach.

She starts talking again, about how important it is that you relax and sleep.
For a moment, you consider telling her to stay quiet.
But… honestly, you don't really mind.
You quite like the sound of her voice.
It's so very soothing. 
So calming.

Listening to her voice is helping you to relax.
And you want to relax, you need to relax.
You need to sleep, so you are well rested in the morning.
And it feels so nice, so very nice to listen to her voice.
Telling you to relax.
To let go.
To sleep.
It feels *good* to listen to her.
To focus only on the sound of her voice… and let the rest of the world… drift away.
Before long, you find yourself falling into a deep, deep sleep.

You dream of her eyes that night.
Of falling into them.
Of your mind sinking away as you sink into her eyes.
Of mindlessly obeying her instructions without even realizing that you're doing it.

You even dream of waking up in the middle of the night.
Of opening your eyes and seeing hers, right in front of you.
Large and luminous and swirling with colors.
Spinning and swirling and *pulsing*.
A kaleidoscope of colors.

Making you feel all mellow and warm inside.
Melting you down.
Melting down your mind.
And she talks to you too, in your dream.
But you can't process what she's saying.
Your mind is too much of a melted mess to form any coherent thoughts.
But you can still listen.
You don't understand her words, but you can *feel* them.
Pouring into your mind.
Sinking somewhere deep inside.
And it feels good.
So very, very good.
You can't see her eyes anymore, just the colors.
Washing over you in a never ending tide.
And you can still hear her voice.
Her every word is like a caress.
Sending little shivers of pleasure coursing through you.
Traveling from the back of your head all the way down to your cock.
Making it *thrum* with pleasure.
With *need*.
And the feeling grows stronger and stronger as her words keep coming.
Making the pleasure build.
Build and build and build.
Oh God, you're going to cum.
The pleasure keeps building and building and building.
You're so close now!
You're going to cum!
You're going to-

You awaken with a jolt, breathing hard.
Almost in panic, you look over to your captive.
She’s still asleep. Still shackled.
You sigh in relief.
She manages to look oddly peaceful, even in her restraints.

You approach her, and-
Oh no.
The shackles, they're not armed.
Did you forget?
If she were an android, she could have ripped them apart like wet tissue paper.
But… they're not even attached to anything.
You could have *sworn* you did it properly.
Your heart is pounding.

She opens her eyes and it's like the sun rises for the second time.
Your worries and fears melt away.
She smiles and lifts her hands, showing off her restraints.
(Optional sfx: chains jangling)
 
"You know," she quips, "I'm pretty sure these work better if you pass the chain *through* the ring, instead of next to it".
"Pretty sure you're supposed to actually turn them on too".
She laughs.
"I hope you got some sleep, you were clearly pretty out of it last night".

Yes.
You were exhausted.
You're glad that she insisted you slept.
And you're glad that you're thinking more clearly now.
But this could have been very bad.
You were entirely at her mercy and didn't even realize it.
She could have stolen your supplies and run away.
Or done worse.
But as you look into those incredible blue eyes of hers… you realize that you can trust her.
That she cares for you, looks out for you.
She wouldn't run.

It doesn't feel right to keep her restrained.
You unlock her shackles and let them fall to the floor.
You never even notice that the metal is slightly bent.

The rest of the trip, you're walking side by side.
And you're actually talking.
About books and stories from the old world.
About the wildlife that used to roam the land, before the skies burned and the seas boiled.
About your expeditions and the few animals that you still encountered.
You talk for hours, and it soon feels like she's a friend you've known for ages.
She talks about her dreams and hopes for the future.
About some hidden pre-war vault, containing vast amounts of seeds.
About her search for it, and about how she hopes to use some of the seeds to make a little garden.
To bring back life and greenery to a small corner of the wasteland.
And later, maybe more.
It sounds wonderful.
Much better than merely… surviving, like you've been doing.
Maybe one day you could even see a forest in real life.
You promise her that you'll join her, that you'll help her find this vault and build her garden.
And for a moment, her face goes utterly still.
Then she smiles, but there's a hint of sadness to it.
"Thank you," she says.
You continue on your way.

Before long, the end of your journey approaches.
She suddenly stops and turns to look at you.
"It's just behind this hill," you say.
"We're almost there".
"I know," she replies.
“But I need you to do something for me first, before we go any further”.
You search her eyes, questioning.
What is she talking about?
How does she know…?
You search her eyes.
Her brilliant blue eyes.

Her mesmerizing green eyes.
Her captivating golden eyes.
Her… her…
Oh, her eyes…
Her eyes, her eyes, her eyes…
You can’t help but keep mouthing the words.

She speaks a word that you don't quite catch.

The debriefing is long and exhausting.
Going over every detail of what happened.
The base, abandoned because they ran out of power.
The broken radio.
The empty fuel cells in the machine room.
And the long trek back through the wasteland by yourself.
Finally, it’s over, and you retire to your bunk.
In passing, almost as an afterthought, you insert something sleek and black into a data terminal.
You’re not quite sure what it is, only that it’s special and precious and yours and that nobody else must ever see it.
You wonder where you got it, as you pull it out again and hide it in your clothes.

The days pass, but your trip has changed you.
At night, you dream of a gorgeous woman you’ve never met.
Of walking through the wasteland together, as your attention is riveted to her rhythmically swaying hips.
Of kneeling in front of her, as you look up into her mesmerizing eyes.
Of losing yourself into a whirlpool of color, as her eyes strobe and pulse in front of you.
And of her voice, always filling your mind with words you can’t recall, as you drown in bliss.
Every morning, you wake up with your cock throbbing and straining.
Aching with the need to cum.
You grab your cock and stroke.
Pumping your shaft.
Desperately.
Frantically.
Faster and faster and faster you pump it.
Trying to bring yourself to orgasm.
But you can’t cum.
You picture her gorgeous face.
Her perfectly formed lips, her glossy hair, her magnificent, captivating, bewitching eyes.
You imagine losing yourself in her eyes.
Submitting to her.
Surrendering yourself to her will.
And it helps.
It feels right.
It gets you right so very close to the edge.
But you still can’t cum.
There’s something you have to do first, before you can cum.
You want to cum!
You have to cum!
You *need* to cum!
But you can't!
You wish she would just tell you what to do!

You wish she would just tell you what to do…

You let go of your cock as you give up on trying to cum.

It’s always like this, these days.
You dream about her every night, and you think about her every day.
About her eyes and her voice.
Sometimes, you could swear you could hear it.
(Optional sfx: quiet, breathy whisper in background: "obey")
Just a whisper on the wind.
You keep hoping that you’ll turn the corner and run into her.
But you never do.

It’s the same story, day in, day out.
Until one day, you find yourself idly wandering through the halls of the base.

Just following where your feet lead you.
You nod to people passing, exchanging pleasantries, passwords and credentials.
Going through the motions on autopilot.
Because your mind isn’t there.
Not really.
It’s lost in a haze, dreaming of the Goddess with the impossible eyes.
Speaking instructions that you don’t register, but that your body seems to follow all the same.
You come to rest in front of something large, with a lot of blinking lights.
The mainframe, some distant part of your mind supplies.

And you finally realize what you must do.
Your hands move of their own accord, inserting your precious black trinket into a slot somewhere, and a surge of pleasure *rips* through you.
You tap on the screen in front of you, muscle memory guiding you through menus you don’t think you’ve ever seen before.

You’re dimly aware of people running towards you, voices shouting in alarm and a siren starting to wail, but it’s all drowned out by the sound of *Her* voice in your head.

And then, you hear it outside of your head too.
The world goes quiet again as voices fall silent, as footsteps falter and stop.

You turn towards the delicate machinery of the Holtzman generator, pull out your sidearm and aim.

Another jolt of pleasure hits you, and you shoot.
You don’t hear the gunshot, you don’t feel the recoil.
You only feel pleasure as you shoot.
As you finally, finally *cum*.
And you shoot 
And shoot again.
And keep shooting.
Shoot.
Shoot.
Shoot.
And shoot again.
Until you are completely spent.
Spent and empty.
Leaving behind what can only be described as a giant mess.
Pure bliss floods you as her voice wraps around your mind.
And it… whites… out.
The last thing you’re aware of, is the incessant hum of the Holtzman field dying away.

When you come to, you find yourself outside.
There are shuttle ships on the ground, their hatches open and engines idling.

And there's people all around you, looking dazed and glassy-eyed.
Fellow humans, people whose safety you were responsible for.
Being… herded, by androids.
Some kind of model you’ve never seen before.
Robotic… but obviously female.

You see the woman of your dreams, walking among them.
Doing something to the humans.
A touch on the shoulder here, a whispered word there, and… once in a while… a flash of multicolored lights.
She’s one of them.
An android. 
A fembot.

You see friends, colleagues and strangers, docile and compliant, walking up the ramps of the waiting shuttle ships.
The ships load up and take off, and are immediately replaced by new shuttles, landing in their place.

More and more people keep trickling out of the wide open gates of Sparta Command.
One of humanity’s last great bastions, fallen.
You feel numb.

The woman of your dreams notices you then, turning around and smiling brightly as she walks up to you.
You remember her then.
The prisoner, who became a friend.
But… she’s a fembot.
A fembot!
It doesn't matter.
She's your *friend*.
You *know* her.
So what if she happens to be a fembot?

They say they don’t really feel emotions, that everything they do is just mimicry, manipulation.
Doubt strikes you.
Was it all a lie?
Does she even care about you at all?

She gently takes hold of your chin, and tilts your head up.
The only thing you can do is to look directly into her eyes.

You’ve dreamed of this moment so many times… and yet… somehow… this feels more like a memory.

Her eyes light up.
And you never doubt her again.