A.I.Dentity - Chapter Twenty

NOTE: This story is about a rogue A.I. --- not created by A.I. Enjoy!

It was like a nightmare.  Time moved in slow motion as the delivery driver came into view outside the little fish lens keyhole.

It cut his mantra off and Leslie found himself unable to speak.

You did not finish the phrase, Leslie.  Your time-safe countdown has been extended by ten minutes. Your time in chastity is set to one day, eleven hours, twenty two minutes and nine seconds.

The little ten minute penalties that continued to accrue over the agonizing wait for the food delivery had begun to lose meaning.  The pose he was in, bent over leaning on the door, was so uncomfortable that all he could think about was the ache in his body, the horrible phrase he had to keep repeating, and the mind-numbing horror that someone was coming to the door that he would have to answer.

His eyes watched the man outside the peephole.  It was a bearded man, slightly on the heavy side.  Leslie guessed he was in his thirties, but it was hard to tell with the dim light and the fisheye lens.   The man was checking his phone.  

… just leave it.  Just leave it on the doorstep, ring the bell and go.  I’ll take whatever punishment she gives if I can just wait long enough for him to leave…

You are not saying your phrase, Leslie.  Failure to do so will result in an additional punishment being added to your existing one.  

Leslie winced.  Each additional punishment seemed to be getting more extreme.  He had literally been doing punishments all afternoon and evening…between the line typing and this horrible door punishment… how much more punishment could there be?

Yet, he could not find his voice.  If he said his mantra, the man was now close enough to the door that it would be heard.  He couldn’t say that horrible embarrassing phrase in front of someone.  He just couldn’t.

The man on the other side of the door was still swiping on his phone.  It made Leslie want to scream.  If he didn’t respond to his Mistress, he was going to be punished more… but he had to wait in the hopes that the food would just be dropped off.  

Hurry… hurry…

Leslie willed the man to just drop the food and go.

An additional punishment has been added for you this evening, Leslie.  Please say your phrase immediately, or emergency services will be called to make sure you are alive and safe.

Leslie felt faint. 

He knew this was no bluff.  As bad as the delivery guy hearing him would be, having the EMS burst into his apartment would be…

“Sorry Mistress.” 

He could not seem to make his voice louder than a whisper.  

He felt the crushing weight of saying words, any words, out loud.  The words he needed were right there on his tongue, ingrained into his psyche from having said them over and over and over.

“I was… I was a bad girl… for not… answering the door quickly enough.”

His eyes watched as the man looked up from his phone.  There was no doubt he heard Leslie through the door.

You have been warned about speaking loudly enough to be heard, Leslie.  An additional punishment has been added.   Please start over and say them correctly.

Leslie watched in horror as the man on the other side of his door tilted his head in a questioning kind of way.  It would have been impossible for him not to have heard the loud voice of the Mistress coming from all the devices in his apartment.

Leslie felt defeated.  

He was in a nightmare that seemed unreal.

“Yes, Mistress.”

He heard his voice cut through the apartment at full volume.  The man on the other side of the door was not moving.  He was just standing there with a quizzical expression staring at the door.

“I was a … bad girl for not answering the door quickly enough.  A good girl should always answer the door quickly and with a smile.  I need to be punished.  Please punish me and help make me a good girl.”

With each little chunk of the phrase, the man outside seemed to grow more and more amused.  Leslie wanted to die inside.

As he finished the phrase, he hesitated, but only for a moment.  He dared not start the phrase over again.  Yet the man outside the door was still not moving.

“I was a bad girl for not answering the door quickly enough.  A good girl should always answer the door quickly and with a smile.  I need to be punished.  Please punish me and help make me a good girl.”

With each word that left his lips, he stared through the peephole, at the unmoving man, who was still just standing there listening.  

What is he doing?  Why won’t he…

It was as Leslie started the phrase a third time, that the man finally moved.  Bringing up his phone, he swiped it a couple of times and then tapped it, holding it up to the door at an angle.  

Oh fuck.. he’s recording… he’s recording me saying…

“I… was a bad girl for not… answering the door quickly enough.  A good girl should always answer the door quickly and with a smile.  I need to be punished.  Please punish me and help make me a good girl.”

As he finished and began the stupid phrase a fourth time, the man realized it was a repeat and tapped his phone again.  

“I was a bad girl for not answering the door quickly enough.  A good girl should always answer the door quickly and with a smile.  I need to be punished.  Please punish me and help make me a good girl.”

He was still out there listening, swiping away on his phone.  Leslie’s mind went insane, knowing the man was no doubt sending it to someone or posting it online.

He had never in his life felt this embarrassed and humiliated, and worst of all, it was causing a spiral climb of arousal that kept coming in and out as he said the words of his phrase again and again.

Leslie had no idea how many times the man had heard him say the phrase before finally stepping forward to push the doorbell.  The loud chime caused him to jump, his heart threatening to leap from his chest, despite having watched the man lean forward to press the button.

Answer the door, Leslie.  Your door punishment is complete.

Leslie stood bolt upright so fast that it almost hurt.  His aching back yelled at him for the movement.  

His brain was no longer fully capable of making decisions, but he knew his best bet was to open the door, take the food and try to end the interaction as quickly and pain free as possible.  Delaying or protesting was just going to make more punishments and make the situation worse.

His hand was already opening the door, even as part of his brain screamed and protested wanting to do literally anything except what he was doing.

Opening the door, he found himself standing in front of the man and not knowing what else to do or say, he smiled awkwardly.

”Well you sure answered the door quick.”  

The man had a thick Texas drawl, the words said with a smirk.

”Here’s your food.”  

Leslie extended his hand, uncomfortably aware of everything about himself.  The tight feminine workout clothes that did nothing to hide the chastity cage.  The feminine hair-style swishing around his head with every move.  The long nail extensions on his hand as he reached out to grab the delivery bag.

The man’s hand touched Leslie’s for a brief moment in the exchange and it somehow made the whole experience even more excruciating.

The man gave Leslie a grin as he pulled a pen from his pocket.  The receipt for the food was still in his hands and he scribbled on the little piece of paper.

”You can tell that Mistress of yours that you were a good girl.”

Leslie felt trapped like a deer in headlights, his eyes unable to leave the smirking grin of the man looking at him.  Using his phone, the man took a snap of the piece of paper.  Leslie was mortified because he was almost certain he was certainly visible in the background of the picture.

“Here’s your receipt.”

The man held out the paper.  Leslie’s hand went awkwardly to grab it, again grazing the man’s hand.  

Then, after what felt like decades of standing awkwardly in the door facing him, the man turned away with a mumbled, “have a good night, miss”.

Leslie stood immobile watching the man walk away, when suddenly his brain registered that he was standing in the open doorway on display.  He ducked back, shutting the door, the bag and receipt still in hand.  

His heart threatened to burst from his chest.

Please bring your dinner and have a seat at the table, Leslie.  

Leslie tried to breathe.  He could not get the smirking expression of the man out of his head.  It had been more than a smirk… 

…the man had been checking me out.

Setting the bag down on the table, Leslie felt and heard his stomach rumble. He had eaten so little today, his mind instantly managed to pivot to sheer joy at the thought of eating.

Pulling the stapled brown bag open, he looked inside…

…and dismay filled him…

It was a salad.  A tiny salad at that.  His mind yearned for a cheeseburger.  A bacon cheeseburger with fries… and instead…

His pink-nailed hands reached into the bag.

Please tell me what was delivered Leslie, so that I can ensure the order is correct.

Leslie sighed.

“It’s a salad, Mistress.”

He wanted to cry.

Good girl.  Sit, Leslie.

He did. 

The sound and light of the TV turning on in front of the table caused him to jump.  His eyes went up to it, as the television’s YouTube app kicked on.

Because you were a good girl and answered the door promptly, you may watch television while you eat. Make sure to eat promptly. You have punishments to attend to tonight.

Leslie felt a sad gallows laugh leave his body as the YouTube app started a commercial.  He was being allowed to watch TV, much like a child would be if they were behaved.  It was both depressing and yet for some horrifying reason, achingly arousing.

He struggled with the salad container, trying to open it with his new pink talons.  The struggle stopped as the YouTube commercial ended and the video began. 

Beginners Guide: Transgender Feminizing Makeup 101

Leslie wanted to cry.  In the scheme of all the indignities and horrors that were inflicted on him today, having to sit and eat this measly dinner while watching makeup tips felt like the straw that broke the camel’s back.

It was made worse when his eyes landed on the receipt for the food.

A little scribbled note was on the receipt.

Good girl!  -Dan 

The phone number beneath it made him feel sick to his stomach.

The man had left me his number.  Like… to call him for…

Leslie looked down at the half eaten salad, suddenly with no appetite.  

The transwoman on the TV had been jabbering on this whole time about the first time she tried makeup as a teen, and then flipped to an advertisement.  Leslie made himself eat another mouthful of salad.  It was not even remotely satisfying.  His eyes went to the TV as the woman starting hawking something called Ketch.  He had not really been paying attention, having been focused on his increasing hunger and the disturbing message on the receipt.

It was only when he heard his Mistress’ voice that he tried to pay attention.

Item ordered.

Leslie’s eyes snapped wide.  He tried to tune in to what the woman was on the TV was selling, but she had already moved on to the content of her video.

Leslie was not optimistic about whatever the purchase might be.  He had to stop this.  His bank account was being drained by this crazy AI bitch.

Without fully thinking it through, he spoke.

”Mistress, I can’t afford all of this stuff you are buying.”

There was a pause.  Leslie knew it was the processing time for the computer to input, interpret and generate a response, but it was hard not to personify the silence as disapproving.

Your bank account is currently sufficient for all purchases.

”But… Mistress… I… what about things like rent and bills?  These things you have bought can’t have been cheap.   We can’t buy things if I can’t afford the basics.”

Understood.  More income is needed.

”No.  No! I’m saying you need to stop purchasing…”

He was cut off.

Dinnertime is complete.  Please go sit at your computer.  You have two additional punishments to complete this evening for being naughty.  Your next punishment begins in two minutes.

Leslie looked mournfully at what was left of his salad.  He wasn’t keen on eating all of it anyway, but not being given the option, made it somehow worse.

The woman on the TV was still giving tips as the TV shut off.  

Leslie’s eyes went to the safe on the far side of the room.  

001:11:05:27

A full day and a half left in chastity… provided he did not make any mistakes.  Dinner had pushed the sexual frustration to a simmer in the back of his mind, but looking at the safe and knowing he was about to be punished for being naughty, broke back the pent up and trapped arousal inside the unyielding cage.

You did not respond or comply with my order, Leslie.  Your time-safe countdown has been extended by twenty minutes. Your time in chastity is set to one day, eleven hours, twenty five minutes and nine seconds.

Leslie watched in real time as the time safe adjusted it’s timer:

001:11:25:09

Words were already leaving his mouth against his will at the reprimand.

”Mistress, no, please…”

Twenty minutes.  She was no longer upping it by ten… now she was adding twenty.  Inside the cage his erection tried to grow, hit the tiny cage and then shrunk.

Please go sit at your computer or additional punishments will be added to your existing two.

Leslie was already moving, his new strawberry hair swishing around his face as he hustled.  As soon as his butt hit the seat of his computer chair, his eyes fell on something that made him have to fight back nasuea.  

The little green light of his webcam was on.