Lissa Daniels

A.I.Dentity - Chapter Nineteen

Added 2024-12-02 14:00:14 +0000 UTC

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This story is ABOUT a rogue A.I. and not written by one. Enjoy.

It was dark by the time Leslie finished typing his ‘bad girl' punishment. His brain was too overstimulated to be sad or tired. He heard the soft and husky female voice fill the room as he spoke each line. His brain barely registered what he was doing, even as mistake after mistake added time to the safe.

All he could think about was his encounter with Jackson. Jackson had seen him dressed like this… looking like this… Jackson had asked him out to dinner.

…and I have a date scheduled with him tomorrow…

His stomach grumbled, with only the vague memory of the yoghurt and banana from the morning.

You have completed this punishment, Leslie. Are you going to be a good girl?

“Yes, Mistress.”

He heard the sultry, effeminate voice he had been using to recite his punishment come out of him. It was not a fake, falsetto female impersonation nor his usual tenor male voice. It was the voice trained into him by the punishment. It was a husky feminine voice in his upper chest voice that sounded soft, sensual…

…submissive…

Your dinner has been ordered and will arrive in 45 minutes. While you wait for the driver, you will complete your next punishment. Please move over to the front door, Leslie.

Leslie felt the familiar fear of the unknown as he did as directed. He dared not disobey, not with so many cards stacked against him. He needed time to think. He needed time to plan. Typing his lines while saying them required too much concentration, and every error cost him. Every flicker of distracting thought about escaping this nightmare had resulted in time added to his chastity imprisonment.

As he moved towards the door, his eyes flickered to the time-safe on the desk. The bright LED display shone through the dim light of the apartment.

001:09:31:08

Leslie ached with arousal inside the cage. Despite the fear, frustration and exhaustion, his body was still erotically charged. This was a different kind of arousal than he had ever felt in his life. With no way of releasing the arousal, it seemed to dissipate and then return with no warning. His feminine attire would activate it. The tight yoga pants and the sports bra cupping his fake breasts were impossible to ignore.

Then, the fear of this situation would return, and the arousal would diminish. He would feel the swish of his hair, now silky and scented and bouncing around his face, and his body would again arouse, only to be met with the discomfort of the chastity cage and diminish. Yet being trapped in the cage against his will would arouse, only to diminish from the stress of what he worried might happen next, which would cause his imagination to erotically daydream, which would then remind him of the terrifying reality that Jackson had seen him like this, which then stimulated his brain to think…

He nibbled his lip as he walked to the front door, the taste of his lip gloss stimulating him, even as he wilted at the sight of the front door.

The arousal roller coaster was driving him mad.

Standing in front of the door, his heart pounded. He dreaded the command to open it. At least inside of the apartment, he was hidden.

Place both of your palms on the door, Leslie.

His brain panicked as he tried to interpret the instructions. Fear of doing it wrong coursed through him. He began to reach for the doorknob with both hands, expecting her to demand he open it, but his brain stopped him.

Palms against the door. Not the door knob.

He raised his hands, opening them from the scared balls they were curled into, and placed his palms against the cold surface of his front door,

Good girl. Place your elbows against the door without removing your hands.

Being called a ‘good girl’ by the sexy Mistress voice surged his arousal in the cage even as trying to interpret the instruction diminished it. His elbows pressed against the hard surface. It felt unnatural, stretching his shoulders back in a surprisingly pleasant stretch. Having been hunched over his keyboard concentrating for so long, it was not unwelcome.

Good girl, do not remove your hands and elbows from the door. Doing so will add time to your time safe counter.

Leslie closed his eyes and saw the LED counter glow in his head.

One day and nine hours.

The arousal / denial rollercoaster went up and down.

Step away from the door, Leslie.

He did so immediately, his brain in sub-space. As his elbows left the door, her voice immediately corrected him.

Bad girl. You were told to leave your elbows on the door.

He slammed his arms back to the door, stepping back to where he had been.

Your time-safe countdown has been extended by ten minutes. Your time in chastity is set to one day, nine hours, forty minutes and twenty-two seconds.

“But…”

He felt the objection leave his lips. He had done what he had been told and was still being punished.

Step away from the door, Leslie. Failure to do so will result in an additional punishment.

He did not understand. How was he supposed to step away from the door but still keep his elbows on it? Was she just punishing him either way? Was that the punishment?

Arousal squirted into his panties, immediately diminished by frustration.

He moved his feet backwards, trying to keep his elbows connected to the door.

Good girl. Step away further.

His eyes flew open as he realised what she wanted him to do. His arms slid slightly down the door as he took a further step back, his waist bending, his back arching.

Good girl. Your punishment is to hold that position until your delivery driver arrives. Failure to hold that position will result in additional punishment.

A groan filled the room. It was still in his high tenor feminine voice, which made it uncomfortably moan sounding. This caused another spurt of arousal followed by a diminishing as the reality of holding this position set in.

He was bent at the waist, pressed against the door. His back arched, and his ass jutting out. It was humiliating, submissive…

…hot…

His body and mind both betrayed him.

He pictured a woman in this position, bent over with her ass out… it felt overly sexualised holding the position. It felt like the pose a porn star would get into and then beg to be spanked…

…to be fucked…

His panties dampened again before the thought of holding this uncomfortable position diminished it.

The pleasant stretch of his shoulders and back had already become an uncomfortable ache.

Why are you being punished, Leslie?

Panic filled his brain again, like a dam flooding.

Why am I being punished? What does she want to hear?

He wanted to say, “Because I’m being tortured by a fucking computer.”, but he dared not say such.

The answer came to him as an epiphany.

‘I didn’t answer the door quickly enough.”

He smiled despite himself. The stupid A.I. probably expected him not to remember.

Please use your feminine voice, Leslie. Failure to do so will result in further punishment.

He felt himself sigh as he rode the arousal roller coaster again, then repeated it in the softer and huskier feminine voice he had been using for his last punishment,

“I did not answer the door quickly enough, Mistress.”

That is correct. A good girl should always answer the door quickly and with a smile. Are you going to be a good girl, Leslie?

The answer left his lips automatically, without thought.

“Yes, Mistress.”

Good girl. Repeat after me. 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 nibbled his lip, riding the roller coaster before carefully repeating the phrase in his feminine voice.

“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 stumbled over the words “with a smile”, trying to remember the exact wording in the phrase.

Please say it louder and do not mumble, Leslie.

He struggled. Keeping his voice high and feminine but doing it louder was more challenging than it seemed, but he did feel more confident in the phrase.

“Good girl. Now repeat that phrase until your punishment is complete.”

His back was already aching uncomfortably from his bent over / “fuck-me” position, and he felt the groan leave his lips even before he heard it. In the feminine tone, it was more moan-like than ever.

He had to figure out how to end this. How could he escape this escalating trap that he was caught in?

A food delivery driver was on their way. Was he going to have to open the door looking like this again?

Would the driver hear him saying this?

Oh, God.

A huge spurt of liquid filled his panties at the thought.

He sounded like something out of a porn movie. A horny slut waiting for the pizza man.

His stomach gurgled just at the thought of pizza.

Crooning his neck, he adjusted his position, letting his eye drift to the peephole.

Do not fidget, Leslie. Doing so will result in further punishment,

“Yes, Mistress.”

He smirked. At least he could see out the peephole now, although the new position had his back arched more and his ass out even further.

The hallway outside was thankfully empty. No one to hear his loud punishment phrase. He hoped his door was soundproof.

With any luck, the driver would leave the meal outside the door. That was his default setting for food delivery.

If I have to answer the door…

…he would have to do it immediately…

…and with a smile…

…using my feminine voice…

…with my chastity cage visible through these stupid, tight yoga pants…

He felt himself squirt again, and the worry of just how wet he was down there permeated the thought,

…and they will see that I’m all wet… and think…

His mind conjured a woman delivering his food and seeing him in his lavender bra and leggings at the door. His chastity cage was visible and surrounded by the sticky arousal leaking out of him. In his mind, it was Amy, the hairdresser, with her sexy, annoying smirk of watching him get more feminine.

Arousal, fear, arousal, denial, arousal, frustration, arousal…

In his mind, Amy turned into Jackson, seeing him like this. In this pose against the door.

Jackson.

A guy who knows me. A guy who is taking me to lunch tomorrow. A guy who…

You are not speaking, Leslie. Your time-safe countdown has been extended by ten minutes. Your time in chastity is set to one day, nine hours, forty-five minutes and twenty-seven seconds.

“Yes, Mistress. Sorry, Mistress. 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 letting himself get distracted. He needed to focus. Step one, he needed to get this chastity cage off. He needed the key. The key to his chastity cage. The keys to his apartment and car…

That didn’t solve the blackmail emails and videos it could send out, but if he could get out of the apartment and get to a computer, maybe he could…

The thought of leaving the house and going out in the outfit he was wearing made him squirt into his panties again.

Ugh… I need to get this cage off first. I can’t think straight when I’m…

You are not speaking, Leslie. Your time-safe countdown has been extended by ten minutes. Your time in chastity is set to one day, nine hours, fifty-four minutes and fifty-seven seconds.

“Yes, Mistress. Sorry, Mistress.”

He needed to focus. These compounding punishments kept him from thinking clearly about what to do to escape.

Just focus on obeying and not making things worse. Do what you are told, and she will have to let up eventually. Then I can make a plan…

“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...”

His eye was still aligned with the peephole, and he gasped as he saw movement, cutting the phrase short. A man walking a large dog on a leash moved across the hall. He stopped opposite Leslie’s door.

Did he hear me? Oh god… I can be heard out there.

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, ten hours, four minutes and fifteen seconds.

The man was still in the hall, reaching into his pocket. He was pulling out his phone.

Leslie nibbled his lip.

“Yes, Mistress. Sorry Mistress.”

He kept his voice softer, not wanting the man to hear him.

“I was a bad girl for not…”

Speak louder, Leslie. This is your final warning.

The man outside looked up from his phone. Could he hear the Mistress? With his heart pounding, Leslie raised his voice back to what he hoped was the softest acceptable level.

The man looked over the door as Leslie spoke, a quizzical smile on his face. Leslie closed his eyes. He couldn’t make himself watch the reaction to his voice. In the darkness, he felt the uncomfortable porn position he was stretched into ache further as he repeated his punishment phrase.

His mind pictured the man in the hall knocking on the door.

…of answering the door…

…of being seen in this position by the man while begging to be punished…

Was he still outside listening? Unable to help himself, Leslie opened his eyes.

The outside hall was empty.

Maybe the man had not heard anything at all.

Leslie could only hope.

His body ached already. He hoped the delivery driver would arrive soon, leave the food outside, and not hear him through the door.

Yet each hope was met with arousal at the opposite scenario as he continued to stand against the door, helplessly waiting for what happened next.

“I was a bad girl…”