This work is copyrighted to the author @2022.  Diese Arbeit ist dem Autor urheberrechtlich geschützt © 2021. Please do not remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved by author. codes: M+f/ humil / caution /man vs machine.

WARNING: This story delves into aberrant sex practices that might well offend you. I don't condone it.  I'm not advocating it. I may or may not even like it. It's simply a fantasy, a product of my imagination, and thus, completely fictitious. Peace, brothers & sisters.

Before you read it, please note the following:

*If you are under eighteen, it is illegal for you to read this story!

*If you have a hard time separating fantasy from reality, do not read this story!

*If it's illegal in your jurisdiction to read non-consensual sex stories, don't read this story!

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Daisy Mintz

&

Her Discombobulated C-Corp2000

(An Erotic HorrorStory)

by

Bad Robot

(aka Hunsi)

Book cover Picture

Click on Asstr link below to meet the players

https://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/HumblePie/daisy.jpg

“Mother fuck! I told you that wasn't going to work! That you had to back the god damn forklift back out & pull the crate out from the side so you'd have the space to make the turn. Now look what the fuck you've done, you asshole. You fucking dropped the crate, and by the sound it, you fucking killed the C-Corp2000 computer inside it!"

Shut the fuck up, Ellis. You are one annoying little bitch.

"Yeah, will, you were the one driving and I telling. Yes Sir, if you think I'm going down with you, Dwayne, dream on.

Look, you fucking lil' weenie, there ain't no way the boss or anyone else is going to know anything about that. You see that stack of C-Corp 2000’s right over there in the corner?"

"Yeah, right where they are suppose to be."

"Yeah, Well, I am going to drive this loader over there, pull out that stack, set this one down on the floor, and pile on the good ones on top. Then you & I are going walk away, and you're going to keep your fucking mouth shut."

"You got me you fucking rat fink?"

---

A week Later . . .

"Yes Sir, absolutely, the C-corp2000 is truly 'the' technological marvel of the 22nd century. And now, with the addition of the new holographic Mr. Jeeves, teacher & guide, it offers an experience beyond all others.”

I mean, as manifest in the earlier 1500 model, The PCC, 'The Positional coordinate calculator,' could already assign sounds to the all to real-to-life movements of your Holographic Mr. Jeeves as he scuttles about busily working to fulfill your every request.

But now, with the added perimeter sensors that provides your Mr.Jeeves with 'your' positional coordinates & accounts for 'your' exact movements as well, you now get a true indepth experience that feels so real you could swear you were actually touching an object, Him, where in fact, only the emptiness of space exists.

"Yes, I know, I'm not entirely unfamiliar with it. The Roberson's next door bought one to tutor their daughter. The 108 inch model just like this one, and their daughter actually interacts with the hologram in ways that are all too real to be true. She sneezes and he says achoo. He puts his holographic hand on her shoulder and she flinches. I tell you, it is amazing to see."

"So, yeah, it's all, if not more, the marvel you say it is, and I'd buy it right here, right now, if not for the fact that the new C-Corp 2200c is about to come onto the market quite shortly, by Christmas, I've been told."

"Yes, Mr. Mintz, that is true. But I see no reason for you to wait to buy the new 'c' model. Cybercorps has made only superficial changes to the casing for appearence sake, but no changes at all to the program. I mean, it's hard to improve on perfection, is it not?"

"Yes sir, you're absolutely right. Okay you sold me. I'll take it!"

"Fine, I'll have it delivered and installed in your home tomorrow morning," he said while waving over the floor manager to confirm the arrangements.

"Good news, Mr Mintz. Our floor manager tells me we still have one left to sell, our last one before the new ‘C' models arrive."

“The last one, huh? The one on the bottom of the stack,” he said with a smile, though with eyes askew as if testing the waters.

“Yes, sir,” the salesmen replied. “But as they say, gold is gold wherever you dig it up.”

---

The next morning . . .

Charley Mats and his partner, Willy Wilson, were in the process of unloading the C-Corp2000 that Mr. Mintz had purchased, when Charley first noticed the crushed-in rear panel.

"Fuck, what in the hell happened here," Charley asked, as his ran his hand over the heavily damaged area.

“Whoa!” Willy replied. “That’s bad news, you know what I’m telling’ya Charley?”

“You got that straight. Wonder who done it?”

"Beats me, but one thing I do know, Cybercorps didn't deliver it to us with a Folklift puncture wound running through the guts of this thing."

"Yesh, well, that can only mean one thing.”

“Dwayne!” The forklift driver,”the two of them rued in unison

“Yeah, the guy who keeps a pint of whiskey under his seat.”

“Yeah, well it wouldn’t be the first time he's done shit like this."

"What are we going to do now, Charley?

"Well I don’t know about you, but I've already got my commission spent."

"Yeah, me too," Willy replied, then after looking around, “Hey I got me an idea."

“Let's set it down right over there with the back of this thing hidden against the wall. That way, when people be looking, all they’re going to see is all the pretty chrome out front. Then we'll go tell Harry, the installer, to just keep is eyes looking the other way or we'll all be in a world of hurt."

---

"There you are, Mr. Mintz," Harry Simons, the Installer, the man with a blind-spot, said to Mr. Mintz, the unsuspecting layman who hadn't a clue as to the extent of the damage done.

"Oh, wow,” Mr.Mintz said when the Harry the installer called him in to appraise his work.

“Fantastic! I'm everso relieved to see that you got it to fit in this room. I Mean, from floor to ceiling it's exactly 8 feet and the same from the door frame to the corner."

"Yes, sir, there might be a bit of good fortune in that. Or perhaps it was just a bit of old-school luck in that I was able to the install the unit in this small room at all."

"Well, whatever, it looks like you’ve gone a great job. I mean, look at it. It simply turns this small colorless room into one that appears to have endless depths."

"Good golly, you could get lost standing in front of this thing."

"Right, you are, sir, and when you're hologragrahic Mr. Jeeves is switched on, your daughter is going to be feeling as though she's been swallowed up and drawn into the vacuum of space."

"Shall I turn it on, sir?"

"Yeah, go for it!"

And so he did, all smiles, like a guy who was about to unveil the crown jewels of the cyber world. "Hold on to your hat, Mr. Mintz, you're about to see some shit!"

"Truly?"

"Oh, yeah," he replied as he pushed the button and up popped a tall, wiry, chap with spectacles and dressed as a butler, appeared in their midst. And standing as he was in midst of that super-large screen, he looked larger than life.

"WOW! Wilber gasped, lacking for anything more coherent to say.

"You damn right, Wow, and you haven't even seen shit yet."

And as it happened, that shit was about to flow!

"Hello, my name is ma,ma,ma Mister Jeeves," he stuttered with a spasmic twitch of his head that appeared to flicker in & out.

"I-I-I, am, your new cybercorps 2000 holograpic t-t-teacher & guide through the wonderous world of the unknown.

"Hey, wow, you weren't joking. He just jumps out at you. But what's with the stuttering, and the twitching. He's acting as if someone has just stuck a taser up his ass."

"Oh, don't worry. It's probably just a speck of dust that escaped detection before he was sealed up at the factory. I'm sure it'll filter out through the filtration system inside in no time at all."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure you’re right, I've seen one of these holographic talking heads busting his chops before, so I know that he's got'em."

---

That night, right after dinner, Wilber Mintz took his daughter Daisy aside and asked how her day had been. The operative word in these cases was always the word, "FUN". "Did you have fun today, Sweetie?"

"Oh, daddy, I had so much fun over at Rosy's house. The Mr. Jeeves's who lives inside her computer is a hoot. He had me rolling around on the floor laughing the whole time I was there."

"Good, I’m glad you found him a ball of fun, only I don't think that's the reason her father bought it for her."

"Oh I know that, daddy. He's a teacher and he was busy teaching her the day long, and she was learning all sorts of things. Some important things, some fun things, and some things I probably never come to understand."

"Well, how would you like one of your own, for your bithday?"

"Oh, daddy, daddy, I would like that bestest of all things in the whole wide world."

"I thought you would. In fact, I was so convinced that you would dearly love to have one of your own that I went out and bought one to give to you on your thirteenth birthday come Sunday."

"Come along, Sweetie, I'll show you."

And so he did, and the level of her excitement was darn near other worldly, especially when she met her Mr. Jeeves. Or what looked to be a normally functioning Mr. Jeeves.

"Do you like your bithday present, baby?" He asked his daughter.

"Oh, daddy, daddy, I do, I do," she replied excitedly, while chapping her hands & hopping and bopping about.

"Well, right now, he is busy communicating with your friend Rosy's Mr. Jeeves working out a lesson plan and making arrangements for the pair of you to explore the wonders of the world together."

"You mean, we'll be doing stuff together even though she lives next door & I live here?"

"Yeah, ain's that cool. You can be at home or anywhere else you want to be so long as there is another Mr. Jeeves on the other end."

----

The next day . . .

‘Our Journey Begins’.

"Where is it you said we were going today, Mr. Jeeves?" our freckle-faced, ponytailed, knock-kneed Daisy asked with eyes askew.

"A-a-a chatroom, Miss Daisy. The k-k-kiddy-Poppers club house," he managed to get out stuttering his way through and again with that same obnoxious facial tic.

"Where is it, Mr. Jeeves? Over at Rosie’s house?"

"Oh know, It's a URL a-a-address I can dial into. If you have fun and want to meet with them, they will a-a-arrange a place for you to meet with them while I watch over you."

"Okay, it sounds like fun, let's go talk," our freckle-faced, knock-kneed & totally clueless Daisy replied, all smiles and flat out giddy with excitement.

"Oh, wait," she then said, looking at him curiously. What is that I see? Fumes? Hot air, or is that smoke I see coming from out you're ears?"

"I don't know, I-I-I don't think so. That would ma-ma-mean I was not funtioning properly, and my d-d-data base has no record of a such an event ever occurring in a C-Corp2000.”

“Now you just w-w-wait while I ma-ma-make the connection."

----

"Hello," the chatroom's Mr. Jeeves said with a cheery face once the connection was made. "Welcome to kiddy-Poppers club house. Now tell, what can I do for you today?”

“Oh, oh, what fun,” she replied, while clapping her hands, and danced above. “I came because I wanted to have some fun.”

“Fun?” Oh yes, that’s the one and only thing we do here. We have lot’s of fun.”

“Goody, goody,” she said, beaming like a searchlight. My friend who comes here told me that this is the funest of all places to come and have fun.”

“Well, that’s the word around here. We have fun on fun!”

“Now tell me, what is your name?”

“Her name is Miss da-da-Daisy Mintz,” her Jeeves took it upon himself to cut-in, believing it was his to do.

“Holy shit, what the fuck is wrong with your Jeeves? He sounds like he’s got a Tazer stuck up his ass.

“You okay, buddy,” he then said to his fellow Jeeves. “You going to make it, or need I call up Cybercorps to pull out that zapper before the sparks starts coming out you’re ears,” he asked, though snidely, and with plenty of attitude, while Daisy’s Mr. Jeeves shook, & rattled & blew smoke from out his ears until the point of incapacitation.

“Hum, I guess he’s not hearing me,” he said to Daisy, with an added tangy twist of sarcasm.

“I’ll tell you what, sweetie, why don’t we give your Jeeves a pass on this one and do this ourselves. So, again, for the register, your name, please?”

"Daisy, Daisy Mintz," she beamed a toothy freckle face smile.

"Welcome to our chatroom, Daisy, you do look a sweetie.

“Now, tell me, Daisy, what is that pattern of daisies and lace I see playing peek-a-boo with me from beneath your t-shirt?”

"What?" she asked, as she looked down to see if anything was out of place and looked as it should.

"No, I don't think so, Mr. Jeeves. Do you see something wrong? Do you think a T-shirt & shorts aren't proper?"

"No, no," the Chatroom's rather unseemly, beady-eyed, holographic Mr. Jeeves, said as he peered at her, as if looking through her, through her t-shirt that did little to conceal the tiny little flowers pattered on those little lacie cups.

"No, no, every thing looks just dandy, all fresh & new, and no doubt the source of many new changes in how you relate to others.”

“You mean like I stomp my feet when my daddy insist I cover up when I step out of the bath?”

“No,I mean in way of social interactions, as in the boys you meet."

"You mean the boys who used to pull on my hair & call me names?"

"Yes, Sweetie the boys you used to hate, and now think they look kinda cute."

"Yes," she blushed shades of red."

"Well, I guest I'm a bit like those boys. I like what I see! In fact, I like the looking so much that I think I shall make those pretty lil’ Baby Peaches of yours your passport for entry into kiddy-Poppers club house. Just flash’em as you pass.”

"Excuse me, Mr. Jeeves, but I thought I was a guest of Rosy's?"

"Rosy? You mean Rosy Butts? That ton of lard, pig nosed, ugly as sin girl whose address you are using?"

"Yes! That's my friend, Rosy Butts, and it's her thingamajig I'm using because her Mr. Jeeves and my Mr. Jeeves wanted me to visit the place where she has ever to much fun."

"Well, you choose to call her a friend, I chose to ignor her, look the other way when she comes in. I mean, I am but a hologram, but I do have my sensibilities. Whereas you are a sparkling beauty whose 'creds' I want to shout out with glee to the visiting gentleman who come to have fun. The kind of gentlemen you are looking to meet.

"That is, of course, if you're looking to have more fun & excitment than just dancing the polka with some 85 year old who thinks it a fun day when he can rise up from out his wheelchair to dance the polka with you."

"And you did say, you wanted, to have fun, right?"

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Lots of fun," she said giddily.

"Okay then, we’ll take that one off the board.”

Now I would like to turn your attention to the board behind me," he said with pointer in hand.

"As you can see we currently have 5 chatrooms available for girl's who want to have fun. Each filled with Gentleman talking to one another, but as of yet, have no little sweetie to join them in the laughs."

"You see here," he said pointing to each. First we have the room where the 'Rear End Boys,’ like to gather to share in the laughs. A fun group of heavy handed gentleman that I highly recommend, and you need not worry because they provide the lude.”

“Next, we have the the group that call themselves 'The Pet Room chums.’ They too are a fun bunch, although with all the woofing & yapping & whining and the like, a girl could come to develop a bit of tone deafness to go along with the scratches and collar burn.”

“The next group we have available call themselves the ‘The Lick'em & Eat'em Boys’, and again a group I highly recommend. Though again with caution, as these fellows sport some pretty big chompers with the tongues that’d put a komodo dragon to shame.”

“And below that, we have 'The Paddle Boys’,” he said, while pointing the pointer down another notch. “Again they too are a fun bunch, although again, I need caution, that's a room for the tots who have been there, done that, before for obvious reasons."

"I mean red cheeks wrapped around a blushing smile looks everso charming, and a sign of joy, but not so much when the angry red is heating up your bottom cheeks."

"Well, at least in my opinion, but who am I to say. Red might be your favorite color, whereas I perfer white. White as in porridge white. The gooey, gelatinous white that the last group on our board favor," he said, while pointing his pointer at the last group name listed on his board.

"The Bukaka bunch!" And not only are we of like minds in that regard, they are quite the 'fun', bunch to be around, if the funniest group of all. I tell you, Binky the clown couldn’t make you laugh any harder."

Boom! Presto, that did it! Binky the clown! The TV show she couldn’t live without watching. In fact just the utterance of his name was enough to set her off like a firecracker.

"Binky! You said, Binky, you said fun!” she laughed and then grinned, a big broad silly, goofy, toothy smile that would have raised a bone in a dead man. “Please, please, I want, Binky!”

"Excellent! That Bukaka bunch of hand jerking zealots are just going to love you. Hopefully not via drowning!"

"And, oh yes, before I forget. You do know that you are just like all of our guest who come to visit & play at our ‘kiddy-Poppers club house in that you came to visit us as a hologram, and thus, you are not really here, but still at home. Right? You understand that?”

“Yes, of course, Silly I already told you. My Mr. Jeeves used Rosy’s thingamajig machine to send me here through space, or something.”

“Yeah, it’s like that. And you also know that those you’ve come to visit didn’t fly through space to get here, right? That they walk through the door, and are quite real, indeed.”

“Ummm, yeah, I guess,” she said, while rocking back & forth, & sounding all too unsure of herself.

“Good girl. Now, if you would just turn about and walk down the hall until you see behind you until you see room number 5, while I switch your Mr. Jeeves over to that room so he'll be there to watch over you as is his job."

"Oh, and yes, It’s mine to tell you that the knee pads, and the stainless steel steal kidney bowl that you need to keep tucked under your chin, as well as tooth picks needed to pick the dryed crust free from between your teeth and gums are all provided free of charge."

“What?” I’m confuse. If I’m really here & just floating in space, how in the world do you expect me to put on knee pads and all the other stuff?”

“Oh, excuse me, I keep forgetting you’ve yet to explore the wonders of the C-Corp2000 series of computers. With their Positional coordinate calculator, and the pereimeter sensors, you’re as real to them as they are to one another.”

“Which is pretty cool when you think about it, and all while providing an experience so true to life that it’s impossible to tell the real from the illusion.

“What does that mean,” she asked?

“What does it mean?” he asked, repeating her words though surprisingly, with a curiously jubilant grin.

“My dear girl, it means that if one of those good fellows were to put a finger in your mouth you’d start sucking. If he were to hand you a glass of juice you’d start drinking. If he were to spank your bottom, you’d be shedding real tears.”

"Now go and have lots of fun, but remember, all smiles & all swallows are spot on right with the boys, but burping . . . No! Sorry! We do not distribute gas masks."

----

"Daddy," our rather fatigued Daisy called out over and above the rushing roar of shower water. "I'm home, Daddy."

"Okay, sweetie, was it fun?"

"Well, yes, I guess. It was a bit messy and filling, but okay, I guess."

"Wonderful, Sweetie. Are you & your Mr. Jeeves going back tomorrow?"

"Well, it's not like I have much of a choice. The chatroom’s Mr. Jeeves said that he expected to see me again tomorrow. That I’m so popular that everyone wants to talk with me.”

"Oh? Well that’s good to hear. But then again, you are a sweet treat after all.

“Yes, they kept telling me that over & over & even after I failed to lick them totally clean as they asked me to when they were done!”

“What’s that? What did you say, honey? I couldn’t hear you, I was digging out the wax in my ears.”

“Tell you what, Sweetie, Let’s take a rest on all this for now. It’s nearly impossible to hear you anyway. How about, we talk about this over dinner?”

“Okay, daddy, I’ll be in my room,” she said as she plodded her way down the hall to her room still belching and picking her teeth, and feeling a bit queasy from the smell of dinner cooking!!

“Yuck! Food! I already feel bloated to the gills and now he wants me to eat pork chops too . . .”

Das Ende

By

Bad Robot

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