Conquered by Clippy: An Erotic Short Story (Digital Desires Book 2)

by Leonard Delaney

  Conquered by Clippy

  An erotic short story

  Copyright © 2015 by Leonard Delaney

  All rights reserved. This book does not contain DRM, but still, the story or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations. The characters in this parody are totally fictional and not related to any real software or products or anything. Resemblance with any people or digital assistants, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Cover and interior illustration and design © 2015 Leonard Delaney.

  First edition (1.5)

  Published by Forest City Pulp

  @ForestCityPulp

  http://www.forestcitypulp.com

  Get notified about new stuff and deals from your pal Lenny: http://eepurl.com/WZPvD

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Leonard Delaney has been a freelance novelist since 2012. He writes from the heart instead of wasting time with research or experience. His publications thus far have earned him several dollars in royalty payments. Living a clean lifestyle has allowed Leonard to focus on doing good in school, honing his writing, and taking a course on spreadsheets every Friday night. He lives well outside of Toronto with his mother and her cat while maintaining a long-distance relationship with his girlfriend, Misty (aka Éowyn16), who he really wishes would respond to his Snapchats, and is beginning to think is dead. His ultimate goal is to top the e-book charts on web site Amazon.com.

  CONQUERED BY CLIPPY

  Christie Aackerlund was an independent woman. When the clerk at the grocery store asked her if she wanted help bagging her groceries, she said “no thanks.” When a man tried to hold a door for her, she opened the other door. When she got back to her apartment building, she skipped the elevator and hiked up the stairs instead.

  She even hated having to wear glasses over her striking grey eyes. And did she really need this hairband helping her flowing red hair stay out of her face?

  But she kept her glasses on and her hair up, because she needed her vision unobstructed in order to read her email. She was pleased by what she saw there:

  Ms. Aackerlund,

  We have read your blog about the Blocks [See the previous Christie Aackerlund adventure, Taken by the Tetris Blocks] and are impressed by your relationships with inanimate objects and ability to communicate using words. We have discovered an ancient alien artifact in the middle of a remote and dangerous location. We would like to send you there alone, without any help, to tell the artifact’s story.

  Yours,

  Phil Gates

  CEO, Contoso Corporation

  Christie expertly navigated her computer’s operating system to formulate a perfectly formatted reply to Contoso.

  I’m in, she wrote.

  Phil Gates himself picked Christie up in a helicopter. He was a thin, older man, with a mop of unruly salt-and-pepper hair, and dark-rimmed glasses thicker than Christie’s.

  “Isn’t this beautiful?” asked Phil, as they flew over the United States, with all its trees and buildings and rocks.

  “I suppose it is,” she said. Fidgeting in the seat she was strapped into, she itched to get off the helicopter and start exploring this ancient alien artifact on her own. Phil kept turning to stare at her, and it made her uncomfortable.

  Finally, they approached the Silicon Valley. “This is where we unearthed the vessel,” explained Phil. “We were mining for computer chips, and there it was, in the middle of an underground crater. The vessel is in the middle, but there are other pieces spread about the area. Together, they may tell a story. We reasoned that it was a job for a writer to piece the story together and publish a whitepaper.”

  “Get me down there and I’m your girl,” said Christie.

  Phil turned to her. He smiled a little too widely, and stared at her a little too long.

  The helicopter jerked to the side. A greenish cloud sailed past Christie’s window.

  “Oh geeze, we’ve been hit by a silicon geyser!” said Phil. The helicopter plummeted, deeper and deeper into the Silicon Valley. Phil tried to navigate the copter around more geysers, aiming for the middle of the excavated pit that came into view. Another geyser shot up and nicked the tail. The chopper shook as it approached the floor of the valley.

  “Dangit, this chopter is going down!” screamed Phil.

  With a thud that made Christie’s bosom jiggle, the aircraft crashed into the middle of the pit. It skidded to a halt. Phil turned to her. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I don’t need any help,” said Christie.

  Phil unbuckled himself and reached over to hold her hand. “It’ll be okay. I think my Windows Phone 8.1 smartphone is broken, but we can wait here until help arrives. We’ll be okay as long as we cuddle for warmth at night.”

  Christie groaned. “You stay here and cuddle yourself. I’m getting out to find that artifact.” She hopped out of the chopper, and was disappointed when she heard Phil get out too. He put a hand on her back and rubbed it up and down.

  “It’s okay, I’ll help. We can do this together, then get back to the helichopper by nightfall. We might have to share a blanket.” He laughed a wheezy laugh like he was joking, but he obviously wasn’t.

  The alien vessel was a long, grey, pill-shaped enclosure sticking out of the ground. It was slightly taller than Christie, and had no visible windows or openings except for a tiny hole with a lens inside.

  “How do you think we can open it?” asked Phil.

  Christie ignored him and looked around. Debris littered the ground around the area where the vessel had presumably crashed from space. She picked up a piece of grey metal paneling. There was something embossed in it: a vertical line crossed by a shorter horizontal line.

  “It’s a cross,” said Phil. “Are we dealing with an ancient Christian alien cult?”

  Frowning, Christie brought out her notepad. She sat with her back against the vessel, then started writing the symbol down.

  The vessel immediately came to life. The top of it popped off and it hissed with the release of air. Phil stumbled back, ready to run, but Christie stood and got her pen ready to record whatever she could.

  A high-pitched, bouncy voice echoed out of the vessel. “Would you like some assistance today?”

  Christie raised one of her sculpted eyebrows.

  A figure climbed out of the top of the vessel and pounced to the ground. Christie’s jaw dropped as she found herself staring at a giant living paperclip. The curled rod of alien steel flexed and creaked as it bounced in place. A pair of white orbs with black lenses in the middle—eyes—stared back at her. Dark ridges above the cameras—eyebrows—made a quiet pzzt! sound as they raised.

  “It looks like you’re trying to write a letter. Would you like help?” asked the alien paperclip.

  “I … no, thanks, I was doing just fine,” said Christie, looking at the symbol on her page.

  “A letter!” said Phil. “It’s not a cross after all, but the letter T.”

  “Yes, Phil, I figured that out,” mumbled Christie.

  “What are you, you magnificently intelligent machine?” asked Phil.

  “I’m Clippy, your office assistant. Would you like some assistance today?”

  As Phil and Clippy chatted away like old friends, Christie explored the area. She found another warped steel panel with another symbol embossed in it: a perfect circle.

  She jumped when Clippy appeared right behind her. “Looks like some research. Would you like some assistance today?”
>
  “No,” she said, and headed toward a ridge surrounded by loose rocks and bits of metal.

  Phil and Clippy followed. “Careful there, those rocks look dangerous,” said Phil. Clippy extended the outer loose end of his paperclip-like body. “Looks like you’re navigating a dangerous surface. Would you like some assistance with that?”

  She sighed, then easily hopped over the rocks and found herself at the bottom of a ridge. Clippy helped Phil climb down on his thin, stick-like legs, which weren’t much different than Clippy’s wiry body. When they finally got down beside her, she pointed at the wall below the ridge. “There’s an opening,” she said. “It leads below the vessel where we found you, Clippy. Do you know what’s down there?”

  “I am an office assistant. Can I assist you with your letter?”

  “So that’s a no.”

  Christie cleared some rocks away from the opening, then eased herself inside. She emerged into a cavern pitch with blackness, but she had come prepared. She reached for her tool belt, the weight of which was pulling her jeans down so that her red panties peeked over the edge. When she turned on her flashlight, she found Clippy in front of her, his camera-eyes aimed at her waistline.

  For once, he didn’t say anything. A small portion of her annoyance at the situation somehow turned into excitement, and she got a brief thrill from having Clippy’s inhuman eyes exploring her body.

  Then Phil showed up. “I’m here!” he said. “Can I do anything?”

  Christie came back to her senses and looked around. They were in a man-made hallway, though it had gone some way toward being reclaimed by nature. The walls crawled with roots, and the floor was pitted with gaping holes. She stooped to pick up another steel panel. This one had another “O” embossed in it.

  “We need to keep going,” she said.

  There were some doors at the end of the hallway, but a deep pit leading into the bowels of the Earth blocked their path.

  Clippy’s bouncy, high-pitched voice piped up. “Looks like a hole. Would you like—”

  Christie ran and leapt over the pit.

  Phil shrugged his shoulders, then pumped his stick-like legs and made a leap for it too. He misjudged, and found himself hanging on the edge of a bottomless pit.

  Clippy moved fast. He uncurled his body, then used one loose end to nudge Phil’s butt enough for him to pull himself up.

  Breathing heavily, Phil put a hand on Christie’s shoulder. “I thought I was going to die,” he said. “Geeze, what a thrill. A dangerous situation can sure, um, bring people together, can’t it?”

  He leaned in close, his lips puckering.

  Christie recoiled.

  Clippy somersaulted over the pit. “Looks like an awkward romantic situation,” he said. “Can I assist in getting this guy off of you?”

  She almost gave in and said yes, but instead just pointed her flashlight in the other direction and headed toward the doors. When she tried the handle of one of them, the door collapsed inward, sending up swirls of ancient dust.

  “It’s an office,” she said, when the dust cleared. The room held two desks, each covered in books, papers, and old computers.

  “This is weird. It’s like that hatch in the TV show Lost,” said Phil.

  “That was a good show,” said Christie.

  “Yep.” His voice was sad. He was probably mopey because Christie had such good taste in TV shows, but wasn't interested in kissing him.

  They tried the door at the end of the hallway, which opened with a shove. This room was larger, and filled with rows and rows of racks containing black boxes with tiny lights on the front, and cables sticking out the back.

  “They’re digital supercomputer servers!” said Phil, awe in his voice. “Older models, but with so many of them, there is quite a lot of processing power here. Such raw power, such beauty. Impressive.” He sprinted between the rows, pawing at the dusty servers. Their lights still blinked. What was providing electricity way down here?

  “Wow!” shouted Phil, a little too loudly. The vibration of his voice echoed around the room, and something gave way. One of the rows of servers sank into the crumbling ground and started to topple.

  “Looks like the ground is crumbling and my server farm brain is about to crush you both. Would you like—”

  But he was too late, and servers were spilling from their racks, raining down on Phil. The corner of one hit the top of his head. As dark blood poured down his face, he raised his hands, but another server crushed his shoulder, then another knocked his neck into a weird position. His spindly legs collapsed as he was buried in computers.

  “—assistance?” finished Clippy.

  “Okay, yes, I need assistance!” Christie shouted as a blinking row of lights rapidly approached her face.

  Christie blinked dust out of her eyes. She felt strong arms around her. Clippy was surprisingly warm to the touch. He shrugged off some cables and broken servers that he had prevented from crushing her.

  “Thank you for saving me,” said Christie. “Too bad about Phil Gates.” One sneakered foot stuck out from a pile of metal, lights, and cracked motherboards.

  “It’s probably how he would have wanted to die,” said Clippy.

  “True that,” said Christie.

  Clippy reached out his loose end, and she let him help her up. “I feel different,” he said. “These computers were my brain, and now that it is damaged, I don’t feel compelled to help you with everything.”

  “Can’t say I’m disappointed.”

  “I do still want to assist you,” he said. His digital gaze scanned her body and one eyebrow raised slightly. “But it’s no longer because of my programming.”

  Christie looked down, and she saw that the loose end in the middle of Clippy’s coil was sticking out. It was red and glowing at the end, as if his rod had been stuck in a fire. Clippy had a boner.

  “You’ve been programmed to be very human,” she said. “Humans have certain needs. You already helped me by saving my life. How about I help you for once?”

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” he said.

  She reached out and grabbed his glowing red end. It was hot, but not too hot. He uncurled further at her touch.

  “I’m Microhard,” he muttered.

  She smiled with one side of her mouth, then got on her knees. Unlike an actual paperclip, the end of his coiled body was rounded, and it felt smooth in her mouth. As she lapped and sucked and tongued at it, it became even redder and hotter. Her own human body part (vagina) felt hot too.

  Still sucking, she eased herself out of her jeans. When she allowed herself a glance up, his bulbous eyes were rolled back, the steel eyebrows arched with pleasure. She stopped.

  “What are you—”

  “Shhh,” she whispered. As she leaned back against one of the still-standing stacks of servers, she took off her blouse. Now only in her frilly red undergarments, she rested against the servers, spread her legs, and began rubbing the wet spot on her panties.

  “Would you like me to assist—”

  “Shut up, Clippy.” Christie’s delicate fingers delicately pulled her panties aside, then began rubbing her clit, vagina, and genitals. With her other hand, she reached behind her back and struggled to get her bra off.

  “Would you like me to—”

  “Shut the fuck up, Clippy.” Finally saying that out loud turned her on so damn much. She got the bra off, and her perfectly engineered breasts popped free, with nipples like eager little puppy noses. As she brought herself to the edge of female orgasm, Clippy uncoiled further, and the red glow spread higher up his shaft. His eyes slid to stay near the coiled part of his body, but remained firmly fixated on Christie.

  She ripped her panties off and tossed them aside as she arched her back, so close to coming, but the frustration of not quite getting there must have shown on her face.

  “Would you like—”

  “Yes, Clippy! Assist me! Assist me hard!”

  He uncoiled almost entirel
y, so he was a straight rod with only a little curl at the top for his eyes to attach to with magnets or whatever. The length of his metal shaft glowed with digital passion. He sprung forward, bounced into the air, and landed inside Christie’s lady-socket.

  She exploded with orgasm juice immediately, bubbling around the tip of Clippy’s glowing rod. Clippy moaned with his bouncy little voice.

  “Assist me deeper!” Christie commanded. He complied, pushing more of his delightfully hot (in temperature) body inside of her, thrusting with a strength that only alien technology could power. “Deeper!” He pushed on, until nearly half of his body was inside of her. The supple flesh below her sternum bulged. She felt his warmth push past her pussy, and further up toward her internal organs … including her heart.

  But she had already come once, and it would take more than fucking to get her to bust another ovary. Clippy seemed to sense it. “It looks like you are trying to reach orgasm. Can I assist you using butt stuff?”

  She nodded, beads of sweat jiggling on her forehead. With his rod so deep inside of her, Clippy was easily able to pick her up like kebab and flip her over onto her hands and knees.

  He curled so that one end could reach her butt while keeping the other end in her pussy. Clippy wasn’t the first living inanimate object that Christie had made love to, but she had never felt anything like this. He got his end to vibrate like an Xbox controller as he twiddled the rim of her anus. At the same time, his other end pushed internal buttons she didn’t even know were there.

  Just before she came again, she glanced back. Clippy’s eyes whirred shut with pleasure. Curled like that, he looked like a giant letter C.

  As she spurted lady-butter all over Clippy, she briefly remembered her mission to find more letters and figure out what he was. But before she could further ponder where he came from, he came from both ends. She felt both of her holes fill up with whatever substance paperclips emitted. She hoped this didn’t make her pregnant again.