A Trust Machines Story

by grapehyacinth

The party was only days away, and Marlene was worried sick. What would her guests think of her poorly-manicured property? The bushes were overgrown from over a years' growth, and her husband Roger had promised to trim them.

But often his promises amounted to nothing, and Marlene usually ended up doing the brunt of the work. She was sick and tired of it, and normally she would have done the bushes herself (as she had every year), but she had injured her arm and was having trouble holding up the trimmer.

“Roger, please. You know you won't get to them. There's so much else I need you to do also. You have to pull out the vines, and trim by the pool stones, and clean the pool...”

Roger merely stared at the television. “I have a headache and I'm tired. I can't do anything today. Can't you do it yourself? I thought you liked doing that.”

She glared at him, wondering why she had ever married him. Yes, he wasn't so bad looking, but who cared? He was useless, and she was killing herself to keep up appearances. “I hurt my arm, Roger... Don't you remember?”

When he didn't answer, she prompted him, “You said you'd do it.”

“I will. Tomorrow.”

“You said that yesterday. You said it last week.” Her tone grew angrier and louder with every word. “You keep saying you'll do stuff. You never do a damned thing!”

He turned to her, his mouth falling open. “You bitch! I do lots of things! Can I help it if I feel awful?”

“You always feel awful! I don't think you're capable of feeling good! And what have you actually done lately?”

He paused, obviously searching his TV-addled brain. “I brought the car in for an oil change yesterday.”

“Yes, because you like cars, and if you don't do an oil change, it'll cost more money to fix.”

“You could have done it too! But I did!”

“You want a medal for having a guy do your oil change?” Marlene thundered, smashing her hand against the wall.

“Marlene, why the hell won't you leave me alone? I feel horrible, and the damned bushes will wait! Who the hell cares what the bushes look like, anyway?”

“I do!”

“Then do it yourself, or hire someone to do them!”

Marlene was surprised to hear these words. Roger did anything he could not to spend money. The suggestion to hire someone was quite new.

Her mind was spinning, brimming with possiblities. “Okay,” she said quietly. “I'll do both.”

And she went to the mall.

The entrance of the West Square Mall was teeming with crowds all aiming for the same destination. She followed on their trail, which led to the Venn or “Trust” transformation machine. She drew in a deep breath, marveling at the odd things that emerged from the device. A line of strange half-humans, furry monsters, and cute animals was interspersed with an assortment of randomly bizarre objects, and the waiting crowd cheered them on. She turned her attention to the area surrounding the machine. Here several tables and booths were set up touting the newest Venn-related businesses and adventures. “As Seen on TV: Be Your Own Cleanser!” touted one booth, and someone was testing out a liquid that had apparently was a housewife named Nan. Beside this booth was a lady knitting a brightly colored scarf. A placard beside her read, “Knots and Stitches: Let us knit YOU, Venned into a ball of yarn, into a handmade item for your loved one!”

Slightly to the left of the knitter, a woman sat at a table under a bright sign. “Empower Yourself!: National Women as Power Tools Day”, it read, followed by, “Come an join us for a buzz you'll never forget”. Under this was handwritten, “Inquire about our new dating service”.

Marlene and Roger were aware of these machines that were seemingly taking over the world, but they never had much interest in being transformed in one of them. Yet she knew of the Venn-related businesses shooting up everywhere, and this one, which she had heard of before, now held particular interest for her.

She sidled up to the table, noting the pile of glossy pamphlets on one side, and a some kind of survey on the other.

“Hi, I'm Amanda. Want to be a power tool, or want to use one?” the woman asked, pushing a pamphlet towards her.

Marlene glanced at the cover, which showed a burly lumberjack-like man brandishing a markedly pink chainsaw.

“I want to be a hedge trimmer, you know, to cut bushes,” she stated, her eyes ogling the man hungrily. “For him.”

The blonde woman tittered. “Well, this is some Swiss model. I can't get him for you. But we have plenty of other folks that will be happy to use you. You're interested in our dating service?” The woman looked markedly down at the wedding ring on Marlene's finger.

Marlene blushed, following her gaze. “Maybe.”

“Got it.” Amanda pulled out one of her surveys and handed it to Marlene. “Fill this out, and we'll go on from there.” She handed her a pink pen. “Use Matthia. She's our office manager. She's not quite a power tool, but she felt like being helpful today.”

Marlene accepted the pen, studying it with curiosity. This really was a woman, this object in her hand! She turned over the writing implement, clicking the ink in and out. Was the woman/pen enjoying this motion? She'd heard from so many people how pleasant it was to be objects, or animals, or...really anything.

And it was finally time for her to try it.

“Okay, Matthia, now it's my turn.” Clicking the pen once more, Marlene set to answering the questions.

2 Where do you want to be used?

At my house. I would like a man to come clip all my bushes using me, and I will pay him for it

3 If your user would in turn like to become something for you to use, is this arrangement acceptable to you?

Absolutely.

4. Do you want to meet your user after your power tool experience? Yes

5. Do you want him/her to make it particularly pleasurable for you, or do you wish to be treated as a mere object? Please make any notes/suggestions below:

I want it to feel amazing.

6. What do you want him/her to know about you, if anything, when you are in use?

My name is Marlene, and I'm grateful to him for using me.

7. Length of usage? 3 hours

After a few more questions and answers, Marlene was instructed to return tomorrow morning at 8 o'clock for her transformation. Her user would come to pick her up promptly after.

She shivered in anticipation.

“I'm going to the mall, Roger!”

“You woke me up, damn it! I was sleeping! Why in hell do you always do that?” he bellowed back down to her.

“Dumb ass,” she murmured under her breath, but she was too excited to waste time fighting with him. “A guy's going to come to do the bushes today.”

This, of course, woke her husband up completely. “You mean it? You found someone to do it? You're really going to pay someone to do that?” he yelled angrily.

“Sort of,” she giggled, and slammed the front door shut.

She was quivering before the Venn Machine, but it was not so much in fear as in sheer excitement. What would it be like to be a power tool? Was it really as amazing to be an inanimate object as everyone said it was?

“First time?” asked Amanda, placing Marlene's money into the slot.

“Yes! It's really that great?”

“You'll love it. I've been everything under the sun, and there wasn't a single form I didn't like. Now you already know how it works. Get in the machine. I'll go into the other side and program your form. Then you're off with Raphael.”

Raphael. Even the name was angelic. Raphael was going to sweep her away in her new form and cut swathes through the neverending wildnerness of her yard with...her.

“Tell him to use the hell out of me,” she requested, and she entered the booth.

Suddenly becoming inanimate was momentarily disorienting, but Marlene adjusted quite quickly to her new form, and a calm fell over her. This wasn't so bad. In fact, it felt nice. There was no ringing in her ears, no tickling in her throat from allergies, and no more throbbing in her injured arm! She felt absolutely perfect!

...Well, perfect for a non-living object, at least. She felt strong, rigid, and hard, like nothing could break or hurt her...

And she wished someone would turn her on.

Amanda lifted the fire-engine red bush clipper off the Venn Machine floor and handed it to the tall, muscular red-headed man behind her. “Here's Marlene. All transformed and good to go. She's ready to do hard work for you.”

Raphael ran his hands up and down the blade, marveling how the object's finish shone in the sun. “Wow. She's really beautiful.” The woman was a well-made, powerful, top-of-the line machine, and he would enjoy using her. And he'd make sure she would enjoy being used.

“She wants you to use the hell out of her,” Amanda smiled, as if hearing his thoughts.

He chuckled, cradling the machine in his palms. “I intend to.”

Amanda couldn't see or hear as a machine, but when the power cord was plugged into her, she felt a surge through her that would have made her scream if she could have. But all she could do was bear this new pleasure silently, hoping that he would never unplug her.

Then he turned her on.

The enormous influx of electricity coupled with the vibrations of her machinery made her nearly lose her mind, and as Raphael began to cut through branch after branch, she silently thanked him with every swipe. She was useful, powerful, and her bushes were getting clipped by her own hand...well, her own blade...that once had been...hands...

The activity was endless joy; she was more powerful than she had ever felt in her human form, and now she planned to use the Venn Machines over and over, Roger be damned! How could she have avoided this experience for so long? But the next “Women as Power Tools Day” was too far away! Maybe in the meantime, she'd turn into a tractor! Yes, she'd plow through fields, mow down crops... She craved such strength, the feel of a motor rumbling inside of her was too good not to experience again... Maybe she'd join the new Venn “Cars for Kids” program in which adults became cars for beginning drivers to help them learn to drive...

Oh, Raphael! Use me! Use me!

Her motor churned within her, and her blade buzzed through the brush like it was merely corn silk...

And then he turned her off, and she wished she had planted more bushes in her yard, but the power cord was still in her, so all pleasure was not lost...

And then there were hands caressing her every corner, and she wished she could see the man that was doing it. She was in love with him, for he had used her so gently yet so forcibly...

“You're really into power tools, aren't you?”

Raphael looked up from where he sat by the side bushes. His hands cradled the bush trimmer in his lap. He had reluctantly removed its power cord for safety reasons, but continued to massage it in order to give the woman the time of her life as a power tool. “Oh, are you the husband?” He stood up, wiping the dirt from his pants. The bush clipper remained tightly clasped in his other hand.

“Yes. I mean, I'm Marlene's husband. You're...?”

“Raphael,” the redhead offered his hand.

Roger shook it coldly. “Nice job you did here. Nice and neat. How much do I owe you?”

“Oh, nothing. It really was more your wife.”

“My wife? What do you mean?”

Raphael glanced at his watch. “Almost time... Wait, and she'll tell you herself.”

Staring at him curiously, Roger murmured, “Uh, okay. But she's at the mall, so I don't know when she'll be back. Let me pay you. Hold on, I'll get my wallet.”

Roger went inside at the perfect moment. As the front door closed behind him, the power tool fell to the ground, changing into a rather dirty woman. Dazed, she stared up at the man, who gazed back down at her admiringly.

“You're a beautiful woman too!” he exclaimed, smitten. “So powerful, so lovely!”

Without any hesitation, Marlene jumped up and embraced him. It did not seem awkward or odd at all. She felt like she knew this man better than her own husband. Well, she knew the feel of his strong, muscular hand, at least... And she wanted to feel it all around her again... “Thank you! Thank you! You're wonderful! How can I ever thank you?”

“Can I use you to do my own bushes?” he grinned, but his request seemed genuine. “You make an amazing machine, and you cut like a razor!”

Blushing and proud at his praise, she kissed him. “Of course!”

“On one condition.”

“What?”

“You use me next.”

At this moment, Roger came bounding out to find his wife in the stranger's arms. “What the hell is going on here?” he exploded, enraged. “Just who exactly is this guy, and what are you doing with him?”

“I'm cutting our bushes with him,” Marlene replied in a tone of perfect calm.

“What?” her husband cried, shaking and clenching his fists.

“He used me to cut our bushes.”

Raphael chuckled at the now-very confused man. “It's 'National Women as Power Tools Day', and your wife is hooked, I'm afraid.”

“Women as...what?”

“It's a Venn thing,” Raphael explained offhandedly.  

“I thought it was one of those feminist women's empowerment movements!”

Marlene giggled. “I've never felt more empowered, I'll say that!” She hugged Raphael even harder, not ashamed at her forward actions. He was for her, they belonged to each other, and she rued the day she had let Roger convince her to marry him. Instead, she could have been with wonderful Raphael, cutting his bushes season after season...

Roger's face was redder than Marlene had ever seen, and she didn't care. “You...used...my wife...to cut our bushes?”

A new idea hit Marlene, making her gasp in delight. “Raphael, maybe you'll turn me into a lawn mower to cut the lawn next?!”

“Great idea!” Raphael clapped his hands together. “Let's do it now!”

“Lawn mower? What?” Roger sputtered. “No... never! Over my dead body!”

Raphael put his arm around Marlene, who merely smiled at her husband's comment. He no longer mattered, and she knew had been a fool to remain with him all these years. Too bad it took a Venn Machine to figure it out.

Her new lover took her hand in his own, and they began to walk off.

“Where are you going, Marlene?” Roger demanded from behind them.

“I think I'm running away with my user,” she giggled, turning but not meeting her husband's eyes.

“And what are you going to do with him?” Roger screamed.

She paused, examining Raphael closely. “I think he'd make a lovely washing machine.”

Raphael smiled at her in excitement. “I sure would! My delicate cycle could wash the finest silks!”

“Mmm. I'd like to turn into silk.”

“I'd like to be a silk nightie for you to wear.”

In silent shock, Roger watched them stride away, discussing their increasingly disturbing plans. There was simply nothing left to say.

At least he had perfect bushes.