Cassandra Cyborg

by PoseMe

Email Feedback | Forum Feedback

© Copyright 2017 - PoseMe - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-F; FF; FM+/f; friends; college; cyborg; servant; wash; wax; latex; maid; servant; mindcontrol; controlled; tease; shutdown; punish; cons; X

This story continues Cassie's life as a Cyborg from Cassandra the Cyborg by Megadragon520

Classes finish up for the day, and Cassandra crosses the quad, which is the busiest place at the Community College, slowly. Each main building spills students into this large square, which makes meeting people easy. At this time of the day, Cassandra feels so normal, so human...even if that is not a quite, true statement.

At the far corner, she can already see that Allison is waiting for her. "Hey, Alli," Cassie calls out, waving above her head. Allison returns the wave and gives her a hug, "Hey there, Cassie. Are you ready to get out of here?" Allison is wearing the latest is style and the most expensive as well, while Cassandra's outfit is much more plain. Cassie nods and they hop in Alli's personal car. The cyborg driver tips his hat as they both get in, and then "he" quickly gets in the car.

The drive home is short (to them anyway), and the girls waste no time catching up from the day. There is plenty of gossip and drama to keep them busy for hours. When they get back to Alison's mansion, the girls are out of the car before the chauffeur can get the door open. They enter the giant front doors, talking as fast as they can. Veronica, the administrative head of Mr Hanson's estate, comes up to the girls. "Enjoy your day, Mistress Allison and Miss Marks."

Veronica extends her arms to take their bags and other accessories. "Yes, yes, it was fine," Allison replies as she locks arms with Cassandra, "Let's go before you gotta work." As they head up stairs, Cassie says to Veronica, "You know you can call me Cassie, right?" Veronica nods and replies, "Of course, Miss Marks." Cassandra shakes her head and continues up the grand staircase with her best friend.

The girls spend time in Allison's room, which is bigger than her last house, Cassandra muses to herself. As they continue to hang out and enjoy their time, Cassandra's phone beeps. "Oops," looking down at it, "I better get to work." Allison makes a pouty face. "Haha," Cassandra chuckles, "I'm gonna see you in a few minutes, Alli." Allison nods and replies in a sad tone, "But it is not the same, Cassie. You are working here." Cassandra nods as she moves to leave and shrugs her shoulders. Allison hops up in a flurry and gives her another hug. They both give "air pecks" on each cheek before Cassandra leaves giggling.

Cassandra heads downstairs and into the back of the mansion where her 'apartment' is. Truthfully, it is a closet, but Cassandra does not need much space. It has a small bed, wardrobe with drawers, and a small vanity. Nothing fancy, she thinks, as she walks into it. Stripping quickly, she grabs a plain white pair of panties and a plain white bra from a bin full of them. Putting them on, she leaves as quickly as she came. She checks the clock on the wall in the hallway as she walks by, "I'm gonna be late."

Stepping out the back, she heads to the servants' entrance. The back yard is walled in, so no chance of anyone seeing her walking outside in her 'undies'. Stepping into the servant entrance, she is immediately scanned. A voice above her states, "Cyborg unit: Cassandra Marks. Compliant Protocol initiated." Cassandra feels some of her free will slip away as she states, "Unit Cassandra awaiting orders." Veronica walks up to her, as she stands at attention. "And who is your owner?" Veronica says calmly. "Unit Cassandra is owned by Allison Hanson," Cassandra replies in a bland robotic tone. "Good, now since you were late," Veronica begins, "You will be on kitchen clean-up and garbage removal duty this evening, above and beyond your normal chores." Cassandra makes a slight sigh, hoping Veronica does not hear it, because that could get her in deeper with her. She is not human, but she has "vindicative" down better than anyone I have ever known.

Ignoring her, Veronica steps away and Cassandra is manipulated into the cyborg cleaner. Arms with nozzles come all around her, cleaning her and removing her panties and bra. The soap and warm water feel good, Cassandra thinks to herself, and the best part, I have not needed a shower in almost a week. After every part of her is cleaned, she is polished to a high sheen. Her hair is pulled back, as the liquid latex maid uniform is sprayed on her. Once the first coat is dried, a second coat is applied. Mr Hanson prefers a heavier uniform, so that there is no chance of a "wardrobe malfunction." The maid uniform is like the one she wears every work day: black and white, flaired out mini skirt, stockings to above her knees, black corset-type top with short, laced sleeves, black gloves above her elbows with white lace, and too-high-heeled white shoes. Her hair is released, curled and sprayed so that it bounces as she walks.

Once the machine is done, she walks stiffly to Veronica, who had come back into the room. "Unit Cassandra ready for chores." Still standing at attention, she awaits for Veronica to order her around, which I think she enjoys, even though she is more of a robot than me. "Clean each of the 3 dining rooms, then report to the kitchen to help set the table." Veronica turns on her heel and walks out. Cassandra nods and feels most of her free-will returning. "Finally," she whispers, stretching her hands and legs a little, "Let's go to work."

With her high-heeled shoes, she walks much slower than normal. She moves to the supplies closet, getting her feather duster and wood cleaner. Once she has those, she walks to one of the three dining rooms. Since Mr Hanson might choose either of the three to dine in each night, she has to clean them all daily. It is not hard work, but it does seem rather inefficient.

Each dining room is about the same: big with lots of wood paneling and a really, really long table with chairs. She dusts every surface possible in there. Once complete, she sprays and wipes all the wood surfaces with a cleaner and polisher. The room nearly shines when she is done. As she steps to the door, she looks back with satisfaction. One thing about my job, she says with her chest out and head high, I can see how good it looks when I am done with it.

She returns her items to the supplies closet. As soon as she sets down the feather duster, she can feel commands showing up in her head. Yes, yes, she says to herself, I know I have to go to the kitchen. As she turns to walk out, the voice continues to pester her. To be fair, it may not be "pestering her," but that is how Cassandra sees it. I think one reminder would be enough, but Veronica insisted on multiple ones in my last software update.

Cassandra enters the kitchen, feeling her will slip again as she gets a priority transfer to the chef. The chef wheels around, literally, as she walks into the kitchen. She is nearly 7 feet tall with one large, single rotating wheel where her feet should be. Her uniform is like something out of a German movie. She has the traditional colorful dress (except it is latex), yellow hair in two long braids that swing around like whips when she turns quickly, her arms are long with upgrades to allow them to extend an extra foot if necessary. Her thick German accent puts the perfect punch to her words as she runs the kitchen like a military boot camp.

"Well, it's about time, you slacker," the chef says too loudly. "Get the silverware and dishes and napkins to the table in the East dining room." Before Cassandra can acknowledge that, the chef adds, "Use place setting #4." Cassandra sees dozens of pictures in her head to know exactly how to place every fork, knife, spoon, mapkin, plate, glass, etc. "Jawohl, Chef." She does not have to reply in German, but she looked it up and secretly thinks the Chef might like it. With a slight grin, she turns and gathers the necessary flatware and silverware to take to the table. The kitchen is rather noisy compared to the rest of the large empty house, so it is a little depressing to leave it for the quiet dining room.

Dinner begins and ends on time. Mr Hanson arrives home promptly and moves immediately to the dining room table. Allison is slow to come down, but after her third "beckoning" from Veronica, she finally saunters in, phone in hand. The two are seated and served by Cassandra and Veronica. There is little conversation, but what there is, is pleasant. Mr Hanson seems to really love his daughter, and he is trying to raise her the best he knows how, Cassandra thinks. It is funny how much he reminds her of her own dad.

As she refills Allison's drink, she hears, "Oh I can't remember his name, but Cassie might." Cassandra tries not to let her name affect her performance. This is a game that Alli loves to play, she thinks dryly: try to get Cassie to break character. "Hey, Cassie," Allison starts, "What was the name of our substitute professor today." Cassandra stands upright, the water pitcher in her hand, and replies, "Cassandra unit does not have that information, Miss Allison." Allison grins, then asks again, "Oh sure you do, Cassie. You were making goo-goo eyes at him."

Cassandra glares at her, as Mr Hanson says with surprise, "Oh really?" I did not, Cassandra screams to herself, she is just saying that. "Cassandra unit does NOT have that information." Allison could hear the slight change in her voice, knowing she was getting to her. "Oh, and Cassie said something like 'he was tall and dreamy and just my type.'" Alli cannot help but giggle at that. Cassandra had returned the water pitcher to the cart. Veronica was staring at her, waiting for the moment to pounce on her when she broke character. Taking a deep breath, Cassandra replies, "If Miss Allison feels this unit has missing information in its database, she should order an update."

Allison gets up to leave the table. "Daddy," she says ignoring Cassandra's reply, "I'm headed to the studio to listen to some music." Mr Hanson nods and waves to her, as he returns to looking at his phone screen. As she leaves the room, she says over her shoulder, "I figure that kiss between Cassie and Doctor-whats-his-name meant nothing." Mr Hanson chokes slightly, as Cassandra says animately, "That is not true. She is just-" But she never finishes her statement of defense. Veronica, knowing it would happen, had switched Cassandra off remotely. Cassandra slumps forward, the look on her face still frozen. Mr Hanson can hear his daughter giggling in the hallway. He says, "Veronica, bring me some more dessert please, and mute Cassandra for the evening." While he knows she was not completely to blame, he still does not want to encourage his cyborg servants blurting out in public; however, he cannot help but smile as Veronica leaves the dining room.

The rest of the evening is rather quiet (literally) for Cassandra. She clears the table and helps clean the kitchen. She takes out the garbage from the kitchen and the other rooms of the house that have been consolidated in the kitchen area. The labor is not hard, she thinks to herself, it just takes me longer in this outfit. It is hard to walk to a tight latex uniform.

As she nears the end of her shift, she has to return to the kitchen to be "released" by the chef. Veronica can do it, Cassandra muses sarcastically, but she is never around when I need her, but if I try to sneak anything, she is there to pounce. Rounding the corner to go down the long hallway to the back of the kitchen, she sees one of the few human servants polishing a metal fixture. Normally, the human staff are already gone for the night, and they usually don't do a task like that, Cassandra wonders in herself.

As she gets up close to her, the human servant seems to not even notice her. Unable to speak still, she decides to override her programming and walk on the other side of the hallway. Cassandra has plenty of freewill during her shift, even when she is being ordered to do something. I think I could blatantly disobey if I tried hard enough, she reassures herself of her near-human yet robotic mind, but it's not worth it.

The human servants wear a more modest outfit. It is still the traditional black and white maid uniform. However, it is not latex, but rather leather. It is not as shiny and not as tight and (Cassandra thinks with envy) not as revealing as hers. She is almost around her, when the lady notices her being there. Since she did not see her walk up, she jumps in surprise. Cassandra would have kept walking, a broad smile on her face, but she got something spilled on her. The lady must have seen it as she says, "Maid, stop." Cassandra obeys, still smiling. She can hear the lady cursing under her breath.

Suddenly, she feels pressure on her back legs, and she can hear a squeaking sound like the latex is being rubbed. "Good thing you're all shiny, or I would be in big trouble again." Cassandra feels the lady wipe her legs down, smoothing out the polisher. For good measure, she feels the rag go up her tight skirt. Doubt I got anything there, lady, Cassandra thinks dryly. The woman does a quick walk around her, then says, "Maid, continue." She nods her compliance, then starts walking again. She can hear in the distance behind her, "I sure hope no one finds out. I don't think it will stain latex, right?" The rest of the cconversation with herself is lost as Cassandra continues into the loud kitchen.

With her day finally over, she is sent back to the basement area for cleaning. The process is short but relaxing. The brushes scrub her well and the finishing soap and rinse have a very pleasant smell. Her hair is returned to its normal state and her body feels clean again. In fact, she notes, with the latex off me, I feel more human than not. Redressed in her white underwear again, she clocks out by the door and heads outside.

The cool night air cleanses her from the sterile basement. The stars in the sky twinkle as always. The sound of a car on the road driving by and maybe a dog barking 3 houses down... it all sounds so good. Never would I have thought I could have a normal life, Cassandra thinks proudly. "Not that this is normal," she whispers under her breath, "but it is close enough for me." And with that, she steps back into the house through the back door and heads to her room. With the smile still on her face, she says to no one in particular, "I'll tell Alli good night after I put on some real clothes."

You can also leave feedback & comments for this story on the Plaza Forum


If you've enjoyed this story, please write to the author and let them know - they may write more!
back to