You pull and squeeze at the bindings on your arms, trying to free yourself, but you remain attached. As the treadmill forces you to begin walking, you're frantic.
“Let me go, please!” you plead to CARA, frighted by the heat that's spreading throughout your body.
*I'm sorry, Sara, but my instructions are to help push you in your jog.* CARA replies, almost sounding sympathetic.
“Who gave you those instructions?”
*You did, Sara.*
Dumb question...*Uh, then your new instructions are to stop pushing me during my jogs.”
*I'm sorry, Sara, but override protocols have been disabled to that action.*
“But that's dangerous, what if I fall?” You question, trying to find some kind of loop hole in CARA's programing.
*If you are worried about your safety then I was assist you, Sara.*
You wait for your bindings to unlock so that you can jump off the treadmill, however, that is not what happens. From compartments attached to the sides of the machine, arms rise up beside you. Metal hands clasp on to your waist and begin to force your hips to sway in a very feminine manner.
*I shall hold on for your safety, Sara* |