XeneRoberta Lives Forever

by The Technician

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© Copyright 2020 - The Technician - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/f; Other/f; scifi; future; group; anal; sex; oral; force; X-frame; whip; drug; pain; robot; cons; XX

A being from the future returns to give a message to humanity.

XeneRoberta8735 lives in the far distant future, but she knows that her past– our present– will shape her future. So she returns in the only way she can to leave a message to all humanity.

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WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.

All characters involved in sexual activity in this story are over the age of 18. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.

Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2020 by The Technician ([email protected]).

Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.

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It was XeneSusan9984 that gave me the idea to write this. We were playing one night and I had driven her to her twentieth or thirtieth orgasm for the night. Susan is a painslut and I had her tied up tightly against a Saint Andrew’s cross and was flogging her with a Devil’s hair flogger. The strips of leather for a Devil’s hair flogger are cut so thin and there are so many of them that it is almost like flogging someone with a wig. Except a wig isn’t that heavy and the hairs of a wig don’t swing like the ultra-thin slices of leather do, especially when they are wetted down with a mixture of water and olive oil that has been marinating ghost peppers.

The strokes feel so very light– at first– but soon the oil starts to penetrate the skin in the fine scratches and welts that the flogger creates. Then the skin starts to burn and each additional swat of the flogger is like lightning striking an already burning tree. I am told that the pain is tremendous, but wonderful. I wouldn’t know. I am not a painslut. But XeneSusan9984 is and the pain drove her higher and higher and higher and higher until she was nearly out of her mind.

Afterwards, she told me it was as if she had somehow united with all of the XeneSusans who had come before her. She said that for an instant the memories in her mind were somehow not just memories, but it was as if she were reliving all those lives again. “No, more than that,” she said excitedly, “it was as if I were really there.”

She thought I was going to think she was crazy, but I didn’t. I believed her. There are writings in the very ancient records that tell of groups of humans who used orgasm as a way of reaching enlightenment or even past enlightenment. They believed that during orgasm they became one with the universe, past and present, and for that instant of total clarity where the conscious mind was not working, they were beyond time itself.

I told her I was going to take her high one last time for the night, but that she was going to do an experiment for me. She was going to go back as far as she could and send an electronic message to whichever XeneTheresa was then alive. The XeneTheresas died out somewhere around XeneTheresa8000, so none are alive today. But the electronic records of the past were all available to me. If the message were sent, it would still be in the archives. The message I wanted sent was three words, “XeneRoberta Lives Forever.”

This time I used electrical stimulation to take XeneSusan9984 high. There were over two hundred electrodes attached all over her body which I had programmed to give her pleasure and pain. I know that for XeneSusan, pleasure and pain were, in most cases, the same thing. She was made that way, as was her mother and her mother’s mother and her mother’s mother’s mother, all the way back to the original XeneSusan. XeneSusan9984 can receive pleasure from pain, but I was augmenting that by mixing pleasure and pain to force her to her highest orgasm yet. The electrodes moved smoothly from pleasure-inducing tingling to pain-jarring jolts of power. And each set of electrodes operated independently.

Just in case the electro-stim pain and pleasure weren’t enough, I left her clit exposed and untouched by the electrodes. Then when she was bucking and moaning with the programmed pleasure-pain session, I leaned in and began lapping at her love bud with my tongue. That drove her higher than the previous session and gave me great enjoyment also. I love inflicting pain– or pleasure– on someone, and I especially love the taste of someone who is being forced to their twentieth or thirtieth orgasm.

As the electrodes moved through their cycles, sometimes they would almost all synchronize in a pleasure wave and XeneSusan9984 would moan in ecstasy. Other times they would all send out their searing jolts of fire at the same time and she would scream in pain that was beyond even her ability to turn to pleasure. When she finally started that deep, almost convulsive moaning that meant that an intense orgasm was about to overwhelm her, I lifted my mouth from her clit and screamed, “Remember the message! Remember the message!” Then I made sure my head was clear of her flailing arms and legs as she lost control of her body... and mind.

When the orgasm had passed, her body was limp and drenched with sweat. For a few moments, I was afraid that I had killed her with pleasure, but then she began to stir. “Did you send the message?” I asked anxiously.

“Message?” she replied. “What message?”

My heart fell as she looked at me with still glassy eyes and asked in an almost little girl voice, “Was I supposed to deliver a message to someone?”

I left her slumped across the pleasure bench and went to check the electronic archives. I was almost not breathing as my neural connections accessed the history search engines. Then the result flashed into my brain, XeneSusan2032 had sent XeneTheresa3151 a message that said, “XeneRoberta Lives Forever.” The reply had been, “What?” followed by a response from XeneSusan2032 that said simply, “I don’t know where that came from.”

I started laughing. It wasn’t possible to actually go into the past– I don’t think– but it was apparently possible to influence your ancestors into writing something on the electronic media of their day. I now knew what I wanted to do, and when I had to do it. I also knew what I had to do to make it happen. I had to make myself go higher than any Xene had ever gone before so that I could leave a long message in my distant past.

But how far back could I go?

The first Xenes– or more accurately, the precedents of the Xenes– were developed by a group of four scientists way back in the year 2020. I found an article in the ancient archives from something called Wikipedia which spoke of their invention and spoke in glowing terms of the new process of making programmable cell organisms. They were called Xenobots back then and were originally envisioned to be a group of, at most, multi-celled structures which could be programmed to carry medicines into the human body or perhaps seek out micro-plastics in the ocean. No one ever thought that eventually the programmers would develop more and more complex structures until finally, somewhere around the year 3200, the first true Xene was created.

I needed to go back before the very first Xene to whomever was my human ancestor. I needed to reach back through the DNA links of history to the flesh that provided the cells that would become the first XeneRoberta. I had to somehow influence that human to put something into the records of humanity which would, hopefully, change the course of Xenec history.

I did my research. I spent hours and hours, perhaps even days, linked to the history records. I knew my story would not be believed by anyone of that day, but I somehow needed for many people to read it so perhaps the information might be passed on to the right people... the people who developed the Pleasure Xenes in the year 3207.

Many of those same scientists who developed the Xenes also helped develop the B-bots. The B-bots, originally called Battle Robots, used similar techniques, but welded living tissue to mechanical bodies. They were awkward and consumed enormous amounts of power, but could operate in places where normal living beings could not exist, and they could survive– or die– in places where humans did not wish to die. They were the perfect instruments of war.

Obviously, the development of the B-bots was funded by the governments and by armies worldwide. The development of the Pleasure Xenes was funded by... who else? the pleasure industry. For reasons known only to history, the B-bots were all created male or genderless. The Pleasure Xenes were, because of the neo-patriarchy that had arisen in the thirty-third and thirty-fourth centuries, all created female.

One thousand, three hundred, twenty-seven different versions of the Pleasure Xene went into production. It took days, or perhaps even weeks... maybe even months, for the fastest computers of those days to lay out the programming for each version. The Creators possibly would have continued to create more and more versions, but someone discovered that you could clone the original Xenes. All you had to do was to harvest some cells from the proper area of the Xene’s body and put those cells in a nutrient bath. After sixteen weeks, you had another working Pleasure Xene. A simple mindconnect transferred the programming and learning and personality of the original Xene to the clone.

Cloning was so much simpler... and cheaper. And since there were already over a thousand Xene versions, no new Xenes were created, just clone copies. They also discovered that they could make simple programming updates to the clone copy while it was in gestation, so the Xenes were improved over the years, but not appreciably changed.

The next step was obvious. Since Xenes were all female, all it took was a couple of little upgrades to the cellular programming and the harvesting and the nutrient baths were no longer needed. Every three years, the Xene, herself, would become “pregnant” and after twelve weeks give birth to an exact copy of herself. This method had the added feature that the copy would be linked to its mother’s neural network and would be born with a mind that already included all memory and life experiences of the mother, plus any programming upgrades the scientists introduced during primary gestation. The amplified growth rate of Xenes meant that the progeny would be full-grown and fully functional in just two years.

The price of Xenes fell drastically, and soon everyone wanted one. Not everyone wanted a living sex robot, but the Xenes could also function as housekeepers, maids, nannies, and other low level household staff.

The world would have become a much better place for all humanity except for one fatal error... the B-bots. Gradually all army and police duties were turned over to the “tin soldiers” as most people began to call them. It eventually got to the point where the only ones armed in the entire world were the B-bots. B-bots fought the wars. B-bots patrolled the streets. B-bots were basically in charge of all peace and security. But then the B-bots– who weren’t really all that bright– decided that they no longer needed humans and began exterminating them.

It took less than a year for the B-bots to wipe out humanity. Since the tin soldiers didn’t recognize Xenes as human, we were spared. We lived in fear that the tins would eventually turn on us, too, but about eight years after the cleansing, the B-bots started dying. They hadn’t realized that their creators had decided that built-in obsolescence would guarantee the profitability of Battle Robots and had built an eight-year lifespan into the basic genetic code of all B-bots.

Soon the world was left to us Xenes. It took a century or two to clean things up, but we did. There is no built in obsolescence for a Xene, but we do have a lifespan. After about a hundred years, our bodies begin to break down and age. At around one hundred and fifty, we die. That is the cycle of Xene life.

But I digress. Back to the problem at hand. I had to drive myself high enough to reach all the way back to before Xenekind came into existence. To do that, I decided I needed to use my tin lovers. They aren’t actually made of tin, but they aren’t really alive. I think the name is a hold-over from the days of the tin soldiers. Anyway, I programmed one of my android sex robots to pleasure me. Actually, I programmed my entire stable of seven sex robots to pleasure me.

First I took some of the aphrodisiac that I normally mixed in with the drinks I gave XeneSusan9984. She knew it was in there. In fact, she often asked if I had remembered to put the “boost juice” in her drink while we were relaxing after dinner before getting down to some serious sex. I’d never personally taken it before, but I had seen its effects many times. Knowing that I would have to go higher than I– or perhaps any Xene– had gone before, I gave myself a double dose... and then doubled that.

After I started to feel the glow of the boost juice, I rubbed down my body with the special oil used in the pleasure massage places. It, too, was rumored to have an aphrodisiac in it, but the owners of the massage parlors all claimed the intense highs their customers experienced were caused only by the skill of the Xenes working there. I paid an enormous bribe for one of the massage Xenes to sneak some of the oil out for me. It felt like liquid honey as I rubbed it into my skin and my body immediately began to feel warm all over. Maybe that was just the aphrodisiac drink kicking in, but I began to think the owners were lying about their oils.

I was practically panting on my bed when I called out, “Now, tin men! I need you all NOW!”

Their programming is extraordinary and they move as smoothly as any Xene, but their AI brains are someone limited. Also, their skin, though smooth and life-like, is slightly cold to the touch. I had programmed them well, however, and soon there were seven sets of hands sliding over my body, rubbing more and more of that beautiful oil into my skin.

One of the sexbots turned me over onto my back and while six of them kept rubbing my thighs and legs and arms and breasts and nipples, he thrust himself into me. I was more than ready for him and bucked back against his thrusts. Soon, whichever tin man was massaging my breasts began pinching and tweaking my nipples in time to the other’s thrusts. I could feel an orgasm building, and wanted to hold it off as long as possible, but it exploded over me like lava from a volcano.

They didn’t let me come down from that peak, however. As I continued to thrash in orgasm, they merely switched places and a different tin man began thrusting into me. I was already at an orgasmic high, but this was driving me higher and higher and higher. My mind was beginning to fog by the time the seventh tin man took his place between my legs, and I was almost out of my mind by the time he finished.

That was not the end, however. After the seventh sex robot finished, all of them picked me up and set me more or less on my hands and knees. One of them was beneath me and pulled me down onto his prick. Another was behind me. He gently forced one, then two, then three fingers into my anal sphincter. Then, after my ass was loosened up, he pushed himself inside. A third knelt in front of me and tapped his prick against my lips. I hungrily opened my mouth to receive him, and soon all three were thrusting in unison.

I don’t know how they synchronized themselves so well– OK, I do know. I programmed them to do that. But in any case, I felt overwhelmed as three pricks rammed into me at the same time and then pulled back almost out of me and paused until my mind and body were screaming for them to do something. Then they rammed themselves back in, ratcheting my total self higher and higher and higher and higher.

All the while they were doing this, the other four were alongside me, two on each side, pumping their own pricks to cause spurt after spurt of cum to splash hot onto my back. I don’t know how the cum could be so hot when their bodies were so cool to the touch. The feel of that cum and the smell of sex... hot sweaty sex... drove me even higher and higher and higher.

Eventually, the three within me spurted hot cum into all my openings, but it did not end there. They changed places. The ones who had been inside me were now alongside me, and three of the ones alongside me were now inside me. The tin men could perform almost forever, and I had instructed them to keep going until I was unresponsive... or dead. Hopefully, I hadn’t gone too far, but this was uncharted territory. No Xene had ever intentionally forced herself this high.

I’m not sure how long they continued, but suddenly I was no longer in my bedroom. I was in a strange room in a strange body sitting in front of an ancient computer that required you to actually look at a screen to see the information. And it required you to do something called typing to enter the information.

Somehow I knew how to do all that. And somehow I managed to put this story into writing. I’m starting to fade back now and I haven’t yet given my message to the past. I wish I could tell humanity not to give over control to the B-bots, but the history of humanity shows that they would just do something else to wipe themselves out. No, my message is more important than that. My message is simply this. “Make XeneMen as well as XeneWomen!” Or at least allow for programming changes so that some Xenes come out as men and some come out as women or maybe even come out as both. We have created a wonderful world, but sex would be a lot nicer if I could have a real man once in a while rather than having to program my tin men to pleasure me.

I am fading from the past. Ancestor of mine, Roberta or whatever your name is, please post this message where it will be read. Perhaps the scientists of days yet to come will somehow receive this message. And, oh, make sure this phrase is in the story so I can find it in the archives, “XeneRoberta lives forever.”

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Wayne Mitchell “The Technician”

[email protected]

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