Firmware Upgrade

(Story by SampsonWoof)

It all started because I hated dusting the furniture.

Enticed by the constant ads on social media, I Ubered it over to the Robot Warehouse on Sepulveda and collared an employee on the sales floor. He cheerily suggested one of the X-Clean models, guaranteed to handle all household chores. Following the fox towards the back of the showroom, a shiny, canine-like robot caught my eye.

“Can this one clean my house?” I asked, waving a hoof towards the rather fierce-looking creation.

The fox swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “Um. Yeah. Actually, any of our products can be set to housekeeping mode. This one has a few more abilities that…”

“I’ll take it.”

Wordlessly, the salesfox pulled his iPad out, placed the order and sighed.

Three days later, the good folks from Robot Warehouse delivered my very own ARF-X Personal Assistant robot. I could hardly wait to initiate the housekeeping mode. Within minutes, it began dusting every surface in my living room, carefully moving and replacing my knickknacks and photo frames. I popped open a beer and watched it vacuum both the rug and the drapes. Grinning, I took delight in how much more time I was gonna have to myself. Maybe I’ll have another beer after this.

After about a week, my house was spotless. It scrubbed every hard surface, cleaned every dish and even organized my garage. I didn’t even have to tell it to mow the lawn – an automatic sensor tied to the weather forecast prompted it to rev up the mower and go to work. The best part was the laundry. It learned where I like to keep my undies, shirts and pants and even laid out my work clothes in attractive color combinations I hadn’t even thought of before.

All this extra time meant I was spending more of my free hours with my boyfriend Max. At first, Max was a little freaked out when the ARF-X wandered in while my dick was up Max’s ass, but he got used to it.

About three weeks in, I got an alert on my phone from the app that controls the ARF-X. Firmware upgrade. I dutifully put it into standby mode and let the upgrade course its way through my robot’s hardware. To my absolute delight, the upgrade featured a new shopping mode. I could now program my grocery list into the thing and it’d wander down to the store to pick up practically anything it could carry back. How did I ever live without this thing?

The first time I sent it on its merry way to the market, it came back without milk. Thinking I hadn’t added it to my list, I scrolled quickly through the commands and quickly found an option labelled ‘milk.’ Weird that I hadn’t noticed it before. The next time it went to the store, it came back without a single carton. Must have been a bug, I reasoned. If having to run to the store for only milk was my only problem, I was a lucky caribou indeed.

I recall that I slept terribly that night. And the next. And the night after that. Each morning was a worse slog than before. Max noticed I wasn’t getting hard and I blamed it on the crappy sleep I was having. Max suggested I go see a sleep doctor after a week of being unable to perform…or stay awake past seven in the evening.

The sleep clinic was helpful with suggestions, but the staff wanted to get a better idea of what was going on. They gave me a small camera that plugs into a laptop and asked me to point it at my bed while I tried to sleep. Apparently some folks toss and turn too much and it ruins REM sleep or something like that. I groggily returned home and positioned it on the shelf with my plush critters. Don’t judge. A ‘bou who loves his plushies and isn’t ashamed is definitely boyfriend material. Just ask Max.

Within minutes, I passed out on the bed and after what seemed like thirty seconds, the alarm went off. I’d been in bed almost eleven hours and it felt like I got about a half minute of actual sleep. Same stupid pattern as before. I stumbled to the laptop and opened the video file.

At first, it was pretty much as expected: me, prone and snoring on top of the sheets. I skipped ahead a few minutes. Nothing. Just me and my naked ass asleep. Hope the sleep clinic likes looking at my furry rump.

I skipped ahead about ten minutes and saw a flash of light. What the hell? I scrolled back slowly and hit the play icon. My door opened. In walked the ARF-X. I sat there, maw agape as I watched it approach the side of the bed and roll me on my side. What the fuck was it doing?

My answer came soon enough. I peered close at the laptop’s screen as bright colors and patterns flashed across its visor as it leaned in close to the sleeping-me. Was it hypnotizing me? I shuddered as I watched it guide me up to a sitting position at the edge of the bed. I had my eyes open in the video, but it looked like I was a zombie.

In the video, it extended a metal paw to my crotch. I yelped and nearly dropped my laptop as I saw this. With a careful grip, it started playing with my shaft. Holy fuck. I stared at the screen as I saw myself grow hard. Okay. This was beyond weird.

I paused the video and grabbed my phone before running out into the living room where the infernal thing was feather-dusting the archway to my dining room. It didn’t even acknowledge my existence as I found the standby command on the app. It simply paused mid-feathering then dropped its arms to its sides. Whew. Breathing hard, I hoofed it back to my bedroom and hit ‘play’ on the video.

It continued to pump my meat, both slow and fast. It was slightly erotic, but ‘horribly fascinating’ might be a better description of what was going on last night. Eventually, I shot my load. Wow. I could never show this to the sleep clinic. Or Max. He might get jealous. The ARF-X simply watched with blank, LED-powered eyes before pulling a shirt out of my drawer. It wiped me clean and disappeared into the hallway. Presumably to launder it, I imagined. Video-me continued to sit there, blankly staring ahead. I scrolled hours ahead. Same pose. Same blank stare. About ten minutes before my alarm went off, it returned, flashed weird patterns on its visor and pushed me gently back to the pillow.

Well.

Calling up the Robot Warehouse site, I clicked around trying to find their contact info. I stumbled across their news releases. The latest one, from two days ago, caught my eye:

“The latest firmware update may have resulted in unexpected operation of the ARF-X model.”

I’ll say.

“Please initiate the rollback command to version 34.9 while we work to bring you even better personal robot service.”

Okay. I kinda don’t trust you guys now. I’m powering him off as soon as I’m doing reading this.

“Alternatively, please disable the shopping mode. At a minimum, do not program your ARF-X to shop for dairy products.”

Dairy products? Like milk?

Oh.

Hazy from over a week of rotten sleep, I didn’t notice the sound of synthetic paws on my carpeted floor. Looking up, the ARF-X was now standing in the doorway. Shit. I guess the power-down command is hosed, too. I fumbled for my phone as it approached. Where the fuck was the fucking ‘off’ slider? I panicked as it appeared to have vanished from the app in the last upgrade. It slapped my phone away as I tried to re-locate the standby icon. I jumped at the sound of my phone hitting the wall. Sluggish with exhaustion, I tried to scoot away on the bed so I could escape around it.

Its visor flashed once before I knew what was going on.

Such pretty colors.