The Fembot Chronicles: Volume 3
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by D.B. Story
Category: Erotica/Erotic Romance/Science Fiction
Description: For adults, in this collection of 5 new stories we continue to explore the future world of robots--fembots in particular-- from the author's own unique perspective. The stories show the resulting interactions and relationships--including sexual--from the wider variety of robots that we are certain to build to appeal to all tastes. The results are always sexy and romantic. Contained in this volume are: Strip Club Tales -- A trio of stories from parallel universes all taking place at a legendary gentleman's showclub. Here you'll learn the stories of Olivia, Beth, and Kassie, all of whom had their lives formed in the cauldron of the coercive control nets used to keep them under tight control at all times. Samantha's Tale -- where we explore the tribulations involved when we design robots to meet our own sexual fetishes, before casting them out into the cold, cruel world afterwards to have to make it on their own. It tells a story wherein a thirty-something man, and a similarly aged fembot with a sexual secret, find their way through the jungle of the workplace to each other. Runaway Cherie -- a story showing the darker side awaiting robots who run away from their owners and those who live to retrieve them. These are stories that don't pull any punches about how we will actually relate to, and with, our robotic companions if we build them correctly to start with.
eBook Publisher: Excessica Publishing,
eBookwise Release Date: February 2010
6 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [412 KB]
Reading time: 243-341 min.
My favorite strip club is in Tucson. I won't identify it to the world at large, but if you know Tucson I'll tell you that it's the one with two initials as its name. Then you only have to figure out which of its two locations.
I've watched my club evolve over time, from when some of the cutest college girls imaginable from the nearby U of A--they probably preferred to be known as young women, which in truth they were--stripped for tuition and living expenses, through its downhill slide to too many overweight, tattooed, single mothers. Rather than die entirely, it found its renaissance after they wired the club to accommodate the emerging class of entertainment-centric fembots. Eventually they went to fembots entirely and this has really brought the club back to its glory days as a fun place to visit.
There are the especially memorable moments. I remember the first time Olivia took the stage. I had gotten on good terms with Steve, one of the managers, when I'd said something nice about how the club handled its cigarette smoke. I don't smoke, and only drink in moderation, which puts me in a tiny minority of the men, and the occasional, woman there. I come to enjoy the women and too much alcohol doesn't improve that. I was the opposite of say, Billy-Bob.
Billy had the cowboy hat, clothes, and boots, shiny new pickup, and a nice chunk of Daddy's money for pocket change. Billy and his party posse always took over a couple of tables at the back end of the long stage that ran through the middle of the bar, and threw money around on $150 bottles of Dom like toilet paper. All this while I sipped a non-alcoholic beer. In fact, I was known as the nice guy who drank the n.a. beers, which was actually a compliment, given that the live waitresses who still worked there and always picked me out to serve when I arrived said that working a shift in that place would leave you hating men for a week. It must have been even worse for the human dancers that used to strut their stuff on those insanely high heels.
As I said, I was on good terms with the manager and was comped in most every night I choose to visit. He even included my first drink in the deal every night he worked.
There are only about four rules at a strip club and remembering them will keep you out of trouble. It's surprising how many men just don't get it.
The First Rule is: Everything here costs money. Admission. Valet parking. Lap dances. Conversation. Drinks. And waitress service. I always tip at least a buck, even on comp drinks. Your servers are there to make a living too.
Second: Pay the girls what you owe them. The whole premise of the club is that the men bring in the money--and the women figure out how to coax it away from them. Even a couple of dollars over the minimum can go a long way in gaining a dancer's favor.
Third: No Touching! Even the fembots are required to enforce this rule. Breaking it with the wrong dancer will get you tossed out real quick and not invited back again.
And Lastly: Just be nice--or even respectful--if you can manage it. I've found that a few kind words soon had dancers taking their breaks at my table for free. It worked with the women, and it works with the fembots. A few nice words, well placed, gets around and can lead to a lot of very pleasant evenings that don't require spending that much money. Of course, some people will always try to buck the system.
Billy-Bob, for example, will never understand any of this. His approach is to throw around more money in a night than most of us made that week, while getting more drunk and obnoxious by the hour, until he's basically carried out at closing time.
Lately I've been watching the drama of "The Billy and Susie Show". Susie is clearly the club's number one entertainer. She's a beautiful blonde at the classic, pre-metric five-feet-four-inches barefoot--which she never is, since all the fembots are required to wear ten-centimeter heels at minimum. Susie has a pixie face, a wonderful figure, green eyes, golden, soft skin, and breasts just a bit too large and firm for anyone with her frame to have in any real world. Not, by the way, that anyone has ever claimed that the inside of the club bears any relationship to reality. Susie is also bright, cheerful, and articulate, not to mention very sexy with a body that has curves on top of curves.
Most of all, though, it's her personality with a bright smile and a brush of the hand for everyone, which makes her that one-in-a-million sort of girl that everyone loves. And she exists to flaunt herself, and sometimes the rules as well, which is part of her charm. She has, for example, "accidentally" bumped up against me more often than all the dancers combined during lap dances. Somehow this strict violation of club policy is never punished. Overall she is an easy one to be especially nice to. As a result, not only does she hang out at my table a lot in the quiet times, but others come over too because "I'm nice to Susie". I have no idea why fembots are so much like real girls; there must be some really clever programming at work here, but I'm smart enough never to question it too closely. My own rule is to not break anything that's already working this well.
Of late, Billy has been trying to hog all of Susie's time. He'll buy dance after dance from her, and drinks for her in-between, to keep her there with him. Even though fembots don't drink, the custom of paying the club for their time with overpriced colored water remains fully in force. Soon it seemed that every time Susie would sit down at my table, a moment later a waitress would come over to apologetically inform her that Billy wanted another dance from her.
I actually didn't mind much, because I knew the women were here to make money. I wished them all well at it.
Anyway, I remember that particular night because it was the first night Susie actually went home with Billy, in addition to being the first time I saw Olivia on stage.
I don't know if Billie-Bob considered me a rival, though I do know he never spoke to me and we always sat half the club apart. As Susie was yet again dragged over to Billy's table I heard a new name--Olivia--announced as the next performer on stage. Okay, I do get jaded after a while and any new blood--or lubricating fluid--piques my interest. But this turned out to be different.
As Olivia came on stage my first reaction was that she wasn't beautiful. Heck, compared to the other girls circulating around the main floor, she wasn't even pretty.
Olivia had an oval face without the overly prominent cheekbones and perfect make-up found in most fembots. Her hair was long, brown, and straight. Instead of a bra and t-bar or thong, she had on a leotard. Her face and bare arms had a dusky, rather than golden, tan. And those arms were mostly straight in contour, with only a small indication of muscle curves in them.
Her legs were completely covered, with only her bare feet exposed with a wide strap across the bottom of each foot to hold the leotard down. Even so I could see that her legs lacked much in the way of curves to them as well, being mostly straight from top to bottom, and only widening enough as they rose to separate her from having a young girl's body. Even in heels, she'd never have anything approaching Susie's sexy legs. And heels weren't helping Olivia's legs tonight since she wasn't wearing any. On top of that, the close fitting leotard showed her having no significant bust at all--at least by club standards.
And that wasn't all that was different. Instead of dancing like a normal performer, she exhibited what might best be described as a gymnastic free-floor exercise. She did stretches, handstands, splits, and the like. She looked to be inches taller than most of the girls, but remained flexible and graceful enough. It was new and different, but really seemed to leave most of the crowd cold.
Halfway through her routine she stripped out of her leotard down to a thong and finally showed her small, barely B-size breasts that mostly lay flat on her chest, filling out only at the bottom with flat, unaroused nipples. In fact, compared to the other girls, most of whom seemed perpetually aroused, I never saw Olivia's nipples get excited in the club.
I felt embarrassed for her since I knew she was up there performing her heart out. I could see why it wasn't working. The best I could say for her figure--breasts in particular--was that they actually appeared natural, in contrast to everyone else's.
At the end of her performance I gave her polite applause along with a couple of other people. But most of the rest of the men had long since turned away and paid their attention to their drinks and the other girls wandering around.
When she came around for tips afterwards I gave her double the typical amount, mostly out of sympathy--and for a fembot, no less.
She noted my action and afterwards came back to ask if I wanted a private dance. I was still sorting out my feelings and put her off by telling her later.
Soon after that I saw Billy leave with Susie proudly on his arm. Now I'd never seen that happen before. I didn't think it was even allowed, but there they went. I made a note to ask Steve about it next time I saw him. I left the club soon afterwards, before Olivia could return to my table to ask if later had arrived yet.
That night I couldn't get Olivia out of my mind. I would have thought that I'd be imagining having Susie here at my place all to myself, like Billy was certainly doing tonight. Running my hands over her firm body and breasts, beautifully curved legs, and flaring hips. Listening to her giggle at each new touch on her sensitive body. Finding out for myself if the stories about how once you had sex with a fembot you never wanted a real woman again were true. But it was Olivia in my thoughts and dreams.
Granted I felt guilty. I'd promised her a dance, then left without taking it. But that happens all the time there with everybody. Entertainers face a lot of rejection.
But it was something more than that. Strangely, because I felt no one else would like or appreciate Olivia, that made her more appealing to me. I began to picture how much she'd like to know that at least one person found her sexy--and sexy she was. Sexy is a quality completely different from beauty. It refers not to how pretty she might be, but instead how badly you wanted to have her. There was just something about Olivia that stuck itself in my mind and refused to be dislodged.
I wondered what it would be like to have all of her love just to myself, instead of someone like Susie who could have anyone in the club willing to pay for her. Somehow, to my very complete surprise over the next few weeks, I would find myself very attracted to poor, unloved Olivia.
The next time I was in I waited until Olivia danced on stage again. She avoided asking me for a tip afterwards--hurt feelings, or just a courtesy pass from the previous visit, I didn't know. When she didn't come to me I sent my favorite waitress to go ask her to dance for me, getting a very surprised, and respectful, glance from the waitress in the process.
Olivia arrived a few minutes later. I told her I'd missed her not coming back soon enough last night. She apologized and gave me a standard table dance--nothing exceptional.
I tipped her and offered my sincere thanks for her performance. I thought I saw a brief flicker of smile, then she was gone back to working the room, something she did more diligently than any other dancer. I felt good to see her get a couple more dances after mine. And I saw Susie leave with Billy again.
Over the next few weeks, I watched both these dramas slowly develop. Olivia became my preferred dancer, perhaps because Billy was taking Susie home three or four nights a week, while still trying to co-opt all of her time in the club as well. He was acting anything from jealous to petulant if she even lingered with anyone else. After the first couple times the club made Susie leave by the back door and meet him in the back parking lot because it was causing too much of a stir, but it was still pretty obvious every time it happened. Susie still came by to sit with me when she could, and I did finally ask her how it all worked.
"Billy-Bob spends so much money here," she explained, "that the management cuts him some special favors. He is allowed to rent me for $500 a night, or could buy me outright for $25,000 as a used model."
"You're for sale?" I asked incredulously.
"We all are," she replied, not insulted in the least. "The club knows they need continual fresh blood to keep the customers coming back so our performance is carefully monitored. The moment our popularity or income drops we're sold or traded to other clubs."
So that explained what had happened to several of the girls I used to know here who were just gone all of a sudden. It did make sense, from a business point of view.
I mentally added up how many times Billy had rented Susie and figured that at the rate he was going, he would have paid for her entirely in a couple month's worth of rentals. I said as much to her.
She replied, "He keeps saying that he plans to buy me and how we'll be together always. And then he returns me to the club yet again."
In an inspired thought I commented, "I'll bet his parents don't approve."
Susie brightened visibly as she grasped my analysis and replied, "That's probably it. He really does seem to like me when we're together, but he doesn't know how to tell his parents about us."
"He's a fool. To have you, and keep returning you afterwards."
Susie smiled even brighter at the complement, squeezing my hand under the table where no one could see.
Another night Susie stopped by to apologize for not coming by earlier that evening to say "Hi." She frowned when she said she had to leave quickly because Billy had rented her yet again.
I did keep her an extra minute by asking her why she'd frowned at the mention of that.
"We never have any real fun," she explained, obviously referring to Billy. "He's half-drunk before he leaves here. Only the anti-collision systems in his truck get us safely back to his ranch each time. And once he gets there he keeps drinking. I do a couple dances for him, strip completely like I can't do here in the club, and then he starts crying. I hold his hand while he tells me how rotten his life is, until he passes out entirely. I can easily lift him into bed and lie down beside him until I have to wake him and tell him he has to get me back to the club, and he cries some more. And each time he drinks more than the last time."
"Every time?" I asked for verification.
"Every time now," she confirmed.
"When you first talked about it, I though you were enjoying going out with him."
"It was fun, at first," she said so gravely I almost thought she must have been kidding. "Something odd, but nice, that I can't explain happens to me when I get away from the club, so I came to like him renting me so often. But now it's not fun. How can I be happy when he isn't? And I can't make him happy, even though that's my primary function."
"You're growing up," I told her, which is a strange thing to say to a fembot. "You want more now than just a night out. And no one can really ever make another person happy."
"Maybe not," she agreed, before she had to run off again.
"Definitely a fool," I confirmed to Susie's rapidly departing back.
I continued to be nice to Olivia, and eventually she started hanging around my table as well after she made her rounds each time. Seldom did anyone try to drag her away from me. Strangely though, unlike with all the other girls, we hardly spoke at all. Even so, she seemed happy to be with me and her company was welcome.
Actually, that's not completely true. I talked to her a lot whenever she stopped by. She was the one who didn't answer back much. In fact, of all the fembots in the club, she was by far the quietest. Yet she continued to stop by, and I was convinced she was listening intently to every word. All this added further to her allure, although I hadn't figured what to do about it yet.
That all changed one Thursday night.
Although it was getting late, Olivia hadn't stopped by yet tonight. This was the first time in a number of visits now she had missed coming over. I did see her dancing for some other customers, but she'd disappear into the back rooms of the club each time afterwards where I guessed that the dressing rooms were.
Susie finally escaped Billy's clutches long enough to make a beeline to my table. Billy's co-opting of all of her time was hurting her popularity with the rest of the customers.
"Finally done with him?" I asked with a half-smile.
"I wish," came her surprisingly emotional reply, coupled with a grimace. "He has rented me again for tonight."
Although I hadn't been paying too much attention to Susie lately, I was aware that her overall personality was developing at a rapid rate. There were dimensions to her comments and actions that hadn't been there before. If I hadn't been so pre-occupied with the mystery of Olivia's appeal I'd probably have been pursuing Susie. She was still my best friend in the club.
Tonight she seemed particularly alive and alert. I was just about to ask her if her time away from the club with Billy had contributed to that, when she surprised me enough to lose that train of thought entirely by doing something fembots just don't do.
"Do you like Olivia?" Susie asked, completely out of the blue.
"Why, yes," I answered truthfully. "A lot," I added, not really worried that liking Olivia would hurt my standing with Susie. She's just not that kind of 'bot.
"Then why don't you rent her?"
I hate to admit that I hadn't yet considered it. I thought a moment before replying. As I did a waitress came over and whispered in Susie's ear.
I heard her reply, "Tell him I'll be there in a minute. He's got me for the whole rest of the evening, so what's his problem?"
That was definitely an evolved Susie.
Then she turned back to me and prompted, "About Olivia?"
"A couple of reasons," I told her directly. I find being honest to fembots easy. Their programming forces them to be honest to me and that makes it easy to just be straight back with them. I wish it were so simple with people.
"First, I don't know how she feels about me--and that does matter."
"She likes you a lot," Susie quickly inserted. "All of us do."
"And secondly, the club wants a awful lot of money to do that. I probably can't afford her."
I didn't add that I wasn't sure if they'd even treat me the same way they treated Billy. He was a local boy who partied often and could be considered a profit center in and of himself. So much so that lately they'd started comping him his first bottle of Dom on arrival. I was still an out-of-towner working here the last few months who spent a whole lot less. In fact, I've yet to even taste Dom. I might have tried to make off with one of Billy's unfinished bottles after he left some night, but Billy was never one to waste good--or any--alcohol and always guzzled every drop.
None of this seemed to concern Susie, however, who seemed to evaluate people on an entirely different scale.
"Wait here," she commanded, and was gone in a twinkling of her sexy legs moving quickly across the floor.
It seemed only moments before she was back. In a surprise move she bent over and gave me a hug. As she did, I felt something drop into my lap.
Now I'm good at not showing any reaction to surprises. It's a useful talent to have. So I let Susie finish her hug before I reached down to feel a thick envelope, which I left right where it had fallen. Even by feel I could tell it was fat with cash. I could guess there was $500 there.
"What's this?" I whispered into Susie's ear, although in a noisy club like this you can shout and still have a private conversation.
"It's from Olivia for you to use on her."
"Olivia wants me to rent her for tonight?" I asked, very confused.
"Yes," Susie replied, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "I've go to go now."
Again I was watching Susie's sexy backside walking rapidly away, this time heading back to Billy-Bob.
I thought about it for a few more minutes, then got up and went to find Steve.
"I'd like to rent a dancer for the night," I told him, trusting that we actually had a working relationship between each other by now since I still got in free on his nights here.
At that statement he looked me over as if seeing me for the first time, deciding if I warranted this special treatment. Clearly the club was not in the business of supplying fembots for possible illicit activities to just anyone. We both knew how over the line this was.
I put on my best innocent face, while giving him all the time he needed to work out just how he could make this happen. The longer he took the more certain I was that I was about to get what I wanted.
Finally he reached a decision.
"It's seven hundred-and-fifty for the night."
I feigned astonishment, some it real.
"Susie goes out for five hundred--and she's your top performer."
Steve looked at me with a bit more respect. I wasn't going to be a total patsy here. I could also see him wondering just how much I really knew--and where I'd gotten my information. That wasn't something that I planned to tell him. I could see that he guessed wrong about my source, and I certainly wasn't going to correct him as to what was really going on since I wasn't sure that I even yet understood it myself.
"Billy is a good customer. He gets a discount. Besides, Susie isn't available tonight." He said the last as if closing off the discussion for the evening.
I let him think that for a moment before informing him, "It's not Susie I'm interested in."
Now I'd offered him the possibility of more money, despite Susie's unavailability. He quickly grasped the concept.
He could hardly conceal his surprise, although I give him points for trying.
"Seven-fifty," he repeated.
"Don't give me that. We're starting at five hundred. And that's for Susie."
"That's for a good customer."
I had him now.
"Every good customer starts out with a first transaction somewhere. Two-fifty."
"Three hundred. She's not that popular."
We settled on three seventy-five.
"And you have to wait until she makes her last rounds," Steve said, tacking on some additional conditions to offset my bargain rate. "I don't want to cut into her earning time tonight."
I pulled around behind the club. A moment later Olivia came out the back door and wordlessly climbed into my car.
She sat quietly beside me in the car for the fifteen-minute ride back to my place. She had buttoned a plain white shirt over the ornamented bra she had taken to wearing later in the evenings, and had slippers on her lovely feet. She still wore the micro-mini skirt that went with the bra and barely covered her womanhood. I glanced over at her still almost-thin, straight legs, so different from Susie's curves-everywhere body, and wondered how I could find both of them so appealing and sexy. After all, they seemed such opposites.
Olivia remained her usual, silent self, staring straight ahead. I wondered if she was somehow deactivated, and if so, what could I do about it. I had no instructions or device for actually controlling her.
I considered trying to start a conversation about anything, but it just didn't feel right. If Olivia had wanted to talk, she would do so.
Finally though, I reached over and placed my hand on her dusky leg. In the club, this actual contact would have gotten me tossed in an instant--or maybe not if Olivia really liked me as much as Susie had intimated. With a real girl, she would likely taken this as me moving too far too fast and reacted accordingly as well. With Olivia, she just shifted slightly in her seat to better expose her leg to my hand and didn't respond further.
For many seconds I left my hand exactly where it was, waiting for any delayed reaction. When I got none, I slowly moved it up and down, feeling and stroking a narrow zone on her leg.
It was as smooth, warm and soft as it looked. I'd wanted to get my hands on her body from the first time I'd seen her on stage and hadn't thought it would ever happen. In fairness, I felt the same about Susie, but couldn't really say the same for any of the other 'bots. This moment was powerfully erotic and I found myself reacting more to it then Olivia was showing so far. Even with anti-crash technology I realized that I'd better pull most of my attention back to my driving.
Then I was struck by a curious thought. Had I rented Olivia for the evening, or had she just hired me? It was her money paying for this. And she had arranged the whole thing through Susie. Was Olivia using me to get her outside of the control of the club for a night? I'd heard that the clubs all have control networks that makes it easy for them to control large numbers of robots from a central point. Or did she actually like me as Susie had said and wanted to spend more time with me--or do things that the club would not allow. Maybe she just wanted a vacation. I thought back on what Susie had said about what happened each time she left the club with Billy. But how would Olivia have been actually able to form and act on that thought? And how had she been able to get the money for this? Didn't the club own her?
So many questions all of a sudden for something that had started out to simply. Abruptly I was unsure of just what was happening here. I took my hand off her leg and put it back on the steering wheel once more. Except for another small shift in her position, she didn't react to it any more than when I first touched her.
When we got home, Olivia got out without comment and docilely followed me inside.
Once in my living room we both stood there, looking at each other and not knowing what to do next. This seemed to be a new experience for both of us.
I felt now would be a good time to return her extra money. I could have kept it and probably nothing would have happened. When I'd counted it out I'd found that she had put five hundred in the envelope so it had been a good thing that I had bargained her price down. But keeping what's not mine isn't my way. Besides, an obvious expression of honesty might help me in her view--if she had a view to be influenced.
"I was able to get the price down," I said, handing her the remaining money. She took it and put it in her shirt pocket without counting it or commenting.
Finally I told her, "Maybe I should be dancing for you, since you're paying for this evening."
That broke the ice. Still without saying a word, she went over to the dining table and brought back a chair. She touched my hand and gently nudged me into it.
Once I was seated she went over to my stereo and sorted through my CDs, loading several and programming them to her liking. She put it on to play, thankfully not loud like the club since I have close neighbors, but very softly. She next turned the lights down. Then she came back over to me and gave me the most erotic lap dance of my life.
After warming up for a bit with athletic, yet erotic, stretches, Olivia started by removing her slippers one by one, taking every effort to rub up against me in the process. In the club any such contact that can be seen from another table is verboten. I can only say that Susie is the mistress of being able to make unseen contact with her customers, but this was much better. I found myself aroused almost immediately.
Next she unbuttoned and slowly removed her white shirt, draping it over me a couple times in the process, and taking nearly an entire song to finish getting it off. For once I was in no hurry for her to undress since this dance wasn't going to end when the current song did.
Soon after that she was removing her bra, while bending over away from me and pushing her well-rounded posterior into my crotch.
I just can't go on with saying again how sexual I now find Olivia's breasts to be. While Susie's outrageously prominent double-D's charm me every time, Olivia's mostly flat looking B's seemed incredibly real and desirable as well tonight.
And then she gave me a very close look at them when she turned around to face me--crouching down low and dragging them up against me from my crotch to up over my face.
I was breathing hard now as I noticed that, for the first time, her nipples were rising into three-dimensional glory.
None of her athletic moves were being performed here tonight. Those were for the stage where her audience was many feet away from her. Nor was this anything like her normal lap dance in the club, which paralleled most of the other girl's moves. This one was very personal and very intimate.
Turning away one more she bent over and slowly pulled her tiny skirt down every inch of her fascinatingly singular legs, while balancing on her toes as if wearing the highest of heels. No gymnast could have done it better. Only a black thong that concealed virtually nothing remained as she pushed her muscled buttocks into my crotch yet again.
After all that she just continued to dance--thong only, tirelessly--for the next three songs, pushing every part of herself against every part of me, pulling back, and doing it all over again. There will never be a dance like that again because I'll never be a virgin for it a second time.
Finally I took a chance to do what I had wanted to do with her for the longest time. I reached out and put my hands on her smooth hips. Rather than pull away, she danced closer so that I could hold her more easily. Then she started a new move of shimmying her hips in a way that forced me to stroke a swath of her body.
Her eyes were closed now. Soon I was running my hands over her entire body as she moved with my motions to make every part of her reachable, as if reading my mind to offer me whatever it was that I wanted to touch on her next. The only thing I didn't do yet was invade her thong. Over it lightly yes, but not inside. I also didn't linger on her breasts as much as they intrigued me, since she gave them back to me every time I asked. By now I could feel how large and well defined her nipples had become.
Then I realized that the music had been over for some time. Olivia had kept me in a raging erection for over a dozen songs.
I stopped moving my hands as I realized this. She immediately sensed the change.
She turned and took one step away from me, bent over at her hips far more flexibly than I'll ever manage, and this time slid that black thong down her legs in one smooth motion. She followed that by pressing her totally bare ass back into my lap for one long, final time.
Now she turned to face me once more. With her feet planted wide apart so that nothing was hidden she regarded me levelly while I did the same to her. I could see that Olivia had dark brown, neatly trimmed, pubic hair. And past that, the secrets of her fully functional womanhood were revealed at last.
We regarded each other for long moments before, still without having said a single word, she stepped up to me and reached down to take my hands in hers. Raising them she brought me to my feet.
Then walking backwards without releasing my hands Olivia led me into my bedroom, backing up until she bumped up against my bed.
She released my hands so that she could unbuckle my pants, which she pulled down to my ankles. My underwear followed, after carefully being unhooked from my still hard penis.
She took my hands again, but loosely this time. Mine slid through hers as she sat down on the bed in front of me, then lay back and opened her legs impossibly wide, giving me full access and invitation to her secret places.
I stepped out of my pants quickly. But before I lay down on her, I reached to touch and squeeze those lovely breasts one more time. I was rewarded by feeling her nipples growing even larger and harder. She let her eyes drift closed, and emitted a soft sigh--her first sound since we'd left the club. Then I couldn't wait any longer and moved to put myself inside of her.
I didn't quite make it the first time. To my surprise she just lay there doing nothing to help me in, or even realizing that there was a problem. In a sudden epiphany I realized that this must be her very first time.
First time or not, once I got myself lined up properly and inside of her she quickly and firmly gripped me with her inviting warm moistness. And as I pumped against her, I realized that in addition to her eyes still being closed a full smile now creased her face for the first time in memory.
After such a long buildup I knew I wouldn't be able to hold it long. But twice as I was building up to my climax Olivia suddenly tightened strongly on me and arched her back. On the third time I simultaneously exploded inside her. With loud exclamations from both of us she threw her arms around me and pulled me tightly onto her, then wrapped her athletic legs around me as well. I held her tightly in return, kissing her as hard as I could. We held this position for a long time, before finally relaxing.
Then she spoke her first words since we'd left the club when she whispered "Thank you," into my ear.
By this time, I was too tired to want to talk much myself, or even get a shower to wash the stink of cigarettes off that clings to me and my clothes after every visit to the club. Because it's a bar it remains one of the very last bastions for the freedom of nicotine.
Finally I pulled myself out of her and moved off to her side. Then we cuddled up together and I was quickly asleep.
I did stir a couple times during the night. Each time I felt her close beside me and quickly fell back asleep again in a haze of pleasant memories.
I finally awoke as dawn's first light crept into the room. Olivia seemed asleep--or shut down--with one lovely leg lying across my body. As I reached down and stroked it, Olivia stirred, but didn't seem to wake up. I'd heard that the sophisticated robots needed periodic shutdown periods, much as people need sleep, to organize their memories as their experiences can arrive faster than they can properly process them. If so, then this was good, because I could feel I hadn't abandoned her by conking out so quickly after our lovemaking last night.
I finally had to move her leg so that I could go to the bathroom. When I returned, Olivia was laying on her other side facing away from me
I didn't need to get up yet, so I slid in behind her and reached around her to cradle her breasts. As I did so I again found her nipples were large and hard. I was surprised since they'd never been that way at the club, but quickly focused my attention on them. They felt wonderful, and soon I thought I heard another soft sigh from her. I know she pushed herself more tightly back against me and into my arms.
With this confirmation of her wanting to be exactly where she was I took another chance and reached down between her legs. As soon as she felt my intent she moved a leg to open up clear access to that area. I was rewarded with warm moisture again. Olivia clearly was still very turned on sexually--or at least her programming was. It was so different from the almost sexless fashion in which she appeared in the club.
When I started to pull away for a moment, she quickly used her free hand to guide mine back again between her legs. She knew what she wanted.
Finally I pulled back from her body completely. She turned her head to look at me questioningly, but I'd only moved so that I could guide her over onto her back once more.
When she realized my intentions here she made the rest of the move herself and opened her legs wide again. I needed no further invitation to move above her in preparation to taking her once more.
Olivia had learned a lot from our encounter last night. As I moved in on her, she positioned herself optimally for easy entry and guided me into her with her hand this time. Nothing else she could have done could have made me feel so welcomed by her.
Our coupling was a very pleasurable, although calmer, rerun of last night. Again she softly said, "Thank you," as she held me tightly against her body afterwards.
I finally--regretfully--had to untangle myself from her to go in and take a shower. She soon joined me and we washed each other down.
She got out first. By the time I was out, dry, and attired, she was standing by the bedroom door dressed as she'd been last night--except that the money I'd returned to her had been moved to a more concealed location. At least I couldn't see it bulging out anywhere and she hadn't left it in the room.
"I must return to the club now," was all she said. It was her longest sentence to me since our arrival last night.
I walked over, took her in my arms, and gave her a full-on kiss. She returned this one much better than our awkward first kisses last night, although it was still somewhat inexperienced.
"You were wonderful," I told her.
She cast her eyes downwards for a moment and mumbled, "Thank you," again. Then I led her out to the car. We drove back in silence.
As I pulled into the spacious and empty back parking lot Olivia seemed to become disoriented for a moment, but she didn't ask me for any help. Once I stopped the car she got out and walked to the back door of the club, pressing her thumb against a sensor there. While waiting for it to be opened, she looked directly back at me and mouthed, "Thank you," one more time. I treasured the expression on her face.
Then the door opened and she quickly walked inside, closing it behind her. I set off to get some breakfast before the heat of the day fully set in.
We had problems that day at work and I had to stay late to solve them. Afterwards I had shopping to do and some other errands. With dinner and everything else, I didn't get to the club until after 10:00pm.
Although I didn't see Olivia either on stage or around the floor, Susie quickly found me.
"Hi there," she greeted me brightly. Her greeting struck me strange though. After my night with Olivia, Susie seemed a little bit more artificial than before.
"Hi, Susie," I replied. "What's happening tonight?"
She frowned a bit. "Billy has bought me again tonight and I'll have to leave soon. I'm glad you got here before that happened. How was your time with Olivia?"
That was also strange. Susie never--and I do mean never--asks personal questions beyond how are you tonight? That was why her question about how I felt about Olivia last night had been so unexpected. Now she wanted to know how my time with another fembot had gone. I wondered if someone had put her up to this.
But Susie had been vital in facilitating my encounter last night, and she really was advanced over most of the other fembots here--except maybe still mysterious Olivia. And in reality she was truly a friend. I wouldn't lie to her.
"Fantastic! Absolutely wonderful! Better than I could have ever imagined!"
"I'm...happy...to hear that," sexy Susie replied. "And Olivia will be too."
Then she added wistfully, "I wish someone would treat me like you treat Olivia."
I was so surprised by that comment that I was speechless while trying to be sure Susie had just said what I'd heard. I was about to ask her what she meant when she added, "I don't have much time left," and ran off.
Susie was back soon though, and brushed up against me more than she should have while whispering, "Good luck." When she left, there was another envelope on my lap.
This time, along with the money--five hundred again--there was a carefully hand printed note. It simply read: "In case they won't bargain this time." No signature, probably in case anyone else might see it. The whole thing was Olivia shouting to me, "Rent me again!"
I sat there for several minutes without acting on it. Then I motioned to a waitress and asked her to send Susie over.
Susie was over with Billy, and obviously getting ready to leave. But the waitress that whom I always tip well was able to go over and whisper in her ear. Susie then said something to Billy. He looked angry, but she was gone before he could protest.
She quickly came over to me with a look of genuine concern on her face. I slipped her back the envelope telling her, "Thanks, but I can't do this again."
"Why?" she quickly asked, looking as startled as I've ever seen a fembot look.
"It's a long story, and it looks like you don't have the time right now to hear it."
Susie looked back over her shoulder at Billy, before turning back and nodding to me. Then looking straight at me she begged, "Don't leave until Olivia can talk to you."
"I won't," I promised.
With that, Susie darted off to the back of the club. A couple minutes later I saw her leave, very publicly hanging on Billy's arm and apologizing for her delay. I guess leaving by the front door was her way of making up to him for running off at the last moment. Billy looked so drunk tonight that he'd probably already forgotten about it.
If anything, I thought to myself, Susie being a little harder to get had had likely enhanced her appeal to him, as long as she wasn't too much trouble.
Only a few minutes passed before Olivia came over to me.
"Can we talk?" she asked me carefully.
I nodded yes.
She glanced around quickly, then said, "Ask me for a dance."
Momentarily confused, I caught on quickly. Olivia needed an obvious reason to be with me.
"Olivia, will you dance for me?"
I was rewarded with a smile to warm one's heart. But instead of dancing, she took my hand and pulled me out of my chair. She then picked up my drink and led me to the far empty corner of the club where she guided me to an empty chair. Once I was seated, she pulled away the other nearby tables away to create a larger space. Once she had that set, she gave me a very athletic lap dance, including handstands and leg-splits of the sort she normally only does on stage.
When the song was over, she joined me at my table and collected her fee--with a generous extra tip. Only then did I realize how very clever Olivia had just been.
She had managed to isolate us in the quietest corner with no tables nearby, and no one else in the club the wiser. I figured I should get things rolling while we had this opportunity.
"Tell me what's going on?" I said, and she talked to me for a long time, with more words than she'd said to me in total up to this point. I bought her a couple of drinks along the way. It kept up appearances.
In summary, here's the story Olivia told me:
Olivia's construction as a robot had been normal until the final phase, when suddenly she found herself awake--activated--standing in a line of naked fembots as the conveyor they were on jolted to a halt. By now her basic intrinsic knowledge of how to act, speak, interact--even sexual relations, which are a basic requirement for all fembots--had been loaded into her mind. What she hadn't yet received was her final, task-specific instructions that would lock her into her intended assignment, and an ownership record. In short, she knew who and what she was, but not anything about what she was supposed to do, or who she was supposed to do it for.
"What just happened?" she asked naturally and rhetorically to anyone around her.
A gorgeous, statuesque, blonde, and equally naked fembot standing immediately ahead of her on the conveyor turned around at the sound of Olivia's voice and innocently inquired, "Are you awake too?"
"Yes," Olivia replied. "What happened?"
"My boyfriend did it," the blonde told her.
"So he could take me out of here."
Olivia then listened as the other fembot explained how all their robot brains were carefully grown crystalline structures. It was the only way to make such complex three-dimensional structures with current technology.
"While my mind was being grown," the blonde told Olivia, "There were a couple of interruptions in the process. Because of that a technician had to evaluate whether or not irreversible damage had occurred, or if I could be salvaged.
"Because of the fault in my mind, even though I didn't have a body yet, the testers were loading in all of the different software I might be expected to run some day to ensure that my mind could handle it. That exercised every part of my mind in ways that most robot minds never are used
"One day after I tried out a particularly interesting little program I spontaneously told my tester, 'Thank you.' He immediately asked me what I meant since that wasn't an expected response from me and I told him that I'd especially enjoyed running that program and would enjoy doing it again once I had a body. I had no idea that this wasn't something I should have told him and it was a good thing that I didn't know that yet because that got us talking with each other. He was a lonely man. Soon we were conversing as more than just robot to human. By the time the testing was finished we had fallen in Love with each other.
"Early on my boyfriend had cautioned me not to reveal myself to any of the other humans. That this would be considered a malfunction that they would either try to fix, or cause me to be discarded altogether, but I'm sure it's okay to speak to you."
"What are you going to do now?" Olivia asked.
"He promised to get me a nice body and now he is going to take me away with him so that I won't have to live like a normal robot would. He told me he would activate me at this point after everything else was complete, but before my final programming was be loaded in. This way he said that my mind will remain my own and that's what he has fallen in love with."
Olivia was astonished at that. Nowhere in her mind was there anything loaded about the possibility that robots and humans could have any sort of relationship other than of the human commands and the robot obeys. Although she didn't have much time to think about it, at that moment Olivia realized that this was an important concept that had been inexplicably left out of her programming. It became the first piece of data she would store safely away in her own permanent memory. Only later would she slowly come to realize that not only could her own mind become independent as well, but that she would want more out of a relationship with a human as well.
"Do you like this body?" the blonde continued, pirouetting in front of Olivia fast enough to make her long hair fly out. "I can't tell if it is a good one or not since every human body is beautiful to me. But I do so want to look good for my boyfriend."
"I don't know very much either," Olivia said, reaching out and touching the blonde's most prominent feature--her large and very prominent breasts, so different from Olivia's own pair.
As she did this, Olivia felt her sexual program trying to initialize. It understood sex with women since a fembot might be bought and owned by a female, but was confused since this other woman was a fembot and no permission for this relationship had been given. What made this doubly confusing was that since Olivia hadn't received her final programmed assignment yet, there really was no owner yet specified for her to give or refuse this permission. In this authority void her programming proceeded to initialize her body for sex and Olivia felt a sudden great sensitivity and tightness both in her own breasts, and down lower. She didn't yet understand, however, what that that meant, except that when the sexual programs then asked her if they should stop since they had no one else yet to query, she told them to continue.
In the meantime it appeared that the blonde's sexual programming had also started. She had half-closed her eyes and had a dreamy smile on her face as Olivia's innocent touch prompted her nipples to quickly rise and harden. Olivia waited for the blonde's return touch to do the same to her body.
Then a though occurred to Olivia that broke the mood.
"Should I have been activated too?" Olivia asked. "I don't have a boyfriend."
"I don't think so," came the reply. "My boyfriend told me he would have to do this from a control room on the other side of the factory, and when it happened, to wait for him to get back here. I guess in order to make sure that I got activated, he left the command on long enough to affect you too."
"What will happen when he gets back?" Olivia wondered aloud.
"He promised to marry me," the blonde said, still innocent of the world at large, and of the effect of telling the full truth out in it. "He will probably shut you off when he sees that you're activated too, since I don't think he can take you with us. Then you'll finish being programmed like the rest of the robots here and forget all about this."
"I thought about that a bit," Olivia told me back in the club. "And although I didn't have very much time to properly consider it, for some reason I didn't want to be shut off again now that I was actually awake. At first I would have said that it was because my sexual programming had kicked in and had asked me, rather than someone else, what I wanted it to do next. That impetus for me to make my own decision, along with the realization that I had to protect my memory of this awakening, and how humans and robots could be more than just masters and slaves, certainly led to what came next.
"I told the other fembot that I didn't want to be shut down again yet. It was her suggestion that maybe if I exchanged places with the 'bot behind me who remained motionless, that her boyfriend wouldn't notice that I was active. Like me, my blonde friend was too new to life to realize that maybe she shouldn't have helped me out in this way.
"Together she and I lifted the fembot behind me into my place, although either of us could have easily lifted her by ourselves if we'd realized our strength. Handling that fembot's nude body also further excited our sexual responses. If there hadn't been this hurry to complete the task, I think the blonde and I might have become lovers. I do believe that it was the triggering of my sexual response and the feelings it was giving me in addition to my important new knowledge that made me not want to be shut off again.
"Anyway, I took the other fembot's empty spot back on the conveyor and chatted softly with my new friend until we heard footsteps hurrying our way. She said she wouldn't tell her boyfriend about me unless he asked her. When he arrived I stood very still and quiet.
"I saw him struggling with a big crate on a hand truck. He quickly set it down near the conveyor and stepped over to embrace my friend. Then he ran his hands all over her body. I remember this making my sexual programming react even stronger and I wished he were doing it to me too. But I didn't ask him to do that to me. I could tell my fembot friend seemed to really enjoy it.
"After a couple quick minutes of that he handed her a simple dress and some high-heeled shoes for her to put on, while he pried open the crate. Inside was a replacement for my first friend. Together they positioned the replacement robot on the conveyor belt in my friend's place. And after a brief conversation, my friend stepped into the big box, which he then closed up tightly again.
"After that the boyfriend quickly checked the robots on either side of my friend's place in line. Satisfied that they remained inactive, he paid no attention to me and wheeled off the crate. That was the last I ever saw of her.
"After he was gone, I moved the other fembot out of my original position on the belt and took it again myself, before waiting once more. As I stood there I had more time to wish that someone would handle me the way I'd handled her body because my sexual routines were still running at that time."
"Then what happened?" I asked.
"The line eventually started up again, and at the next station I received my assignment programming. I was to be an athletic dancer at a strip club. Then I was put to sleep until I was delivered here. But because I was fully active and had already initialized some of my programs before the final programming was loaded, instead of just waking up here and knowing nothing else, it was as if someone had told me my assignment--instead of forcing it on me."
"So instead of just a dancer in a strip club, you are someone who has chosen to dance in a strip club for now, and knows herself otherwise."
"That's a good way to put it," she said with a smile that was becoming a more regular part of her facial repertoire with me, and touched my arm briefly in acknowledgement. "And I retained my memories of awakening on the assembly line before anybody owned me."
"And now you want out?" I ventured to guess.
"Yes," she replied simply.
"To do what?"
"I want a life like the blonde fembot ahead of me has. Someone to love me, and have sex with me, and get me out of this club before the control net here completely erases that part of me."
That was a complicated request. I broke it down into pieces, the most intriguing piece first.
"Sex?" I asked.
"Yes," she replied with refreshing directness. "Last night was my very first time. The club doesn't let us fembots even play with each other in our off time when they can prevent it--and never with the customers. I loved what we did last night. It was the final culmination of what had started on that assembly line and I want to do it lots more. You told Susie you liked it too."
"I did," I confirmed. "You were wonderful."
"I'll tell you when we're done," I quickly replied. "Tell me what's wrong with just being here at the club? After all, you are a fembot." But the way I said "fembot" to her made it clear I wasn't being derogatory. I was only saying that a robot might not feel the discontent that a woman could under the same circumstances.
"The club has a strong, coercive control network installed. According to the knowledge base they gave me, all clubs do. Instead of commanding us individually the way with most fembots who have individual owners, this uses different channels into our brains and keeps us locked into our programs en masse. It makes their management of us much easier, and it suppresses our sexual abilities without suppressing our needs very well. They say it exists to keep the customers from requesting more than the laws regulating the clubs allow."
"But it doesn't work on you," I told her, stating what appeared to be the obvious.
"Over time, it does--or it will," she replied. "Last night was my first time away from it. Susie has been telling me what her nights away from the club are like, and they sounded too good to be true. But it is grinding me down. If I stay here much longer, I'll lose all my individuality."
"Do you mean you'll forget that you were ever anything more than a dancer in this club?" I asked, finally realizing what she was getting at.
"Exactly," was all she had to say.
"And love?" I asked, going on to her next point.
"I love you," Olivia said, again with charming simplicity and directness. I could tell it came out of the deepest depths of herself. Maybe she didn't have a lot of worldly experience in the subject, although in the environment of the club you probably grew up fast. "From the first night when you were the only customer who treated me well, while the rest tried to pretend I didn't even exist when I went around for tips. I knew you were special. And it's known among us that you treat all the fembots here with respect. Most of the customers are loud, rude, drunken, obnoxious men. We are aware of the difference. Although a robot must accept any owner assigned to us, none of us would want any of them in our lives if it were our choice. I picked you as the man I love, and have worked to free myself to be with you ever since."
Hearing that, I truly appreciated how hard it must have been for Olivia. I'm certain that the club closely accounts for the money its dancers collect. Olivia had to have moved slowly and smartly, to have kept any for herself--although in the end the club was going to get it all anyway, so maybe they didn't even care all that much.
She guessed what I was thinking.
"Some of the other girls helped with the money, in little bits that wouldn't be noticed."
That was amazing too. "Are the others like you? Susie, for example?"
"No," Olivia replied. "Susie is the closest to me. I've worked with her a lot during our downtimes when the club is closed. But she is still mostly locked into her programming despite her times away from here. The rest are fully locked in for now, but can help when asked properly by someone who understands the fembot mind," she said with a sly smile.
"I have to say that I'm amazed at how verbal you've been tonight, Olivia. You barely spoke before to the point that I've wondered if you could converse at all."
"I was hiding myself. I'm sure if anyone discovers how different I am, they will take it all away from me. They tried once already with the final programming in the factory. And again with the club control net."
"Probably true," I mused. "So why take a chance telling me?"
"I have to be honest with you when you ask. Especially after you were so completely honest with me about returning the extra rental money. You could have kept it and I never would have known. I was so happy with you last night that I wouldn't have minded if you had."
"I appreciate that candor. It's just not my way to take advantage of another person though."
Her hand had been resting lightly on my arm from her last touch. Our surreptitious touching in that dark corner was part of an intimate connection. Now she gripped my arm strongly in confirmation of my last words. But her eyes were still questioning as she asked again, "Then why...?"
"Two reasons. First, I didn't know what was actually the case with you. It could have been exactly what you told me. Or it could have been a club scam. I'm glad I was right to hope for the good outcome."
"And second, If I keep renting you like this again and again, night after night, I'll soon nickel-and-dime away all your money with nothing to show for it afterwards except a few nice memories. Billy has probably paid Susie's purchase price twice over in rental fees by now. If I continue to do the same with you, I'd fiddle away all your money too."
Then I added what she wanted so much to hear from me, and what I realized was true with this special 'bot.
"I love you too. Because of that, I'd rather buy you outright now, than waste any more of your money otherwise."
There were tears in her eyes at that. I'm certain only the coercion network of the club kept her from jumping into my arms right there.
Now that we were on the same page we schemed together to work out how to accomplish our mutual goal. Olivia had been very observant during her time in the club and contributed vital information that I wouldn't have ever guessed otherwise.
Then I stood up and walked out of the club--to the surprise of the management whom I'm sure thought they had another night's rental of Olivia coming out of me that evening.
The next night Olivia didn't come near me, but Susie did. It took Susie three trips to slip me the fat envelopes totaling twenty-two thousand dollars. It was all they had. Then I slipped out of the club to change it for high denomination bills down at the casino. It wouldn't look right to pay with obvious tip money. Or at least, I wasn't going to take any chances.
When I returned I sought out Steve. He seemed surprised to see me back twice in the same night.
"I guess your night with Olivia wasn't all you'd hoped for," he opined, communicating the subtext that he knew as well as everyone else that Olivia wasn't pretty or sexy compared to all the other 'bots. "I can do you a deal on a different 'bot, if she's available."
"On the contrary," I replied. "I'd like to take Olivia off your hands outright."
He seemed surprised at such a direct approach, but quickly recovered, which is why he was so good at his job.
"You know they go for twenty-five thousand each," he said, granting me the respect of not trying to jack the price beyond what he was pretty sure I knew already.
I had steeled myself to not even bat an eyelash, although I'd hoped it would be easier than this.
"I know no such thing. What I do know is that I can have your most popular model like Susie for twenty-five, maybe less if her ratings are down. And Olivia isn't even popular."
"That's true," he mused in reply, still obviously wondering now how much I really did know. It was easy to believe Billy just had a big mouth that liked to boast and blabbed all the details. "That 'bot hasn't worked out the way we'd hoped she would."
"You've certainly had some return from her already. I know I've contributed well enough to that myself."
Steve looked down and punched a few keys into his computer terminal.
"We'll break even," he said.
"I'll give you ten for her tonight."
I could tell he was interested. I was pretty certain now that all these rentals and sales were off the books.
"The going price is twenty." He'd already had come down off the original price.
"Yeah, for Susie."
"Are you talking cash?"
"Of course--if that's what it takes to make the deal."
We went a couple more rounds and settled at twelve, seven-fifty.
"I'll be back in twenty minutes," I promised. I was making a show of having to go get the money. He never thought to ask where I'd get that much cash this late. That was my problem.
When I returned I was directed by the girl at the door taking admissions back to Steve's office again. Steve was there with Olivia standing motionless to the side. She now wore only a simple, knee-length piece of cloth and slippers that was plainer than the dress they'd given her for her night with me. She didn't show any indication she'd even noticed when I'd entered the room.
"Let's see it," Steve ordered.
I laid out the money and held my breath while he counted it. The deal wasn't done yet.
"Good enough," he finally commented, gathering it up and locking it away in his safe.
He then unlocked a file cabinet behind his desk and pulled out a drawer. He sorted through the large plastic bags until he pulled out one marked "Olivia". Inside was an individual control unit, a user's manual, and a couple of other documents.
"She has never been individually initialized," he told me, indicating that I would have no trouble establishing primary ownership.
"Will you show me how to do that?" I asked.
He took out her remote, broke the seal, and had me press the activation button. Nothing happened.
Steve grimaced for a moment, then pulled out a key and inserted it in its matching lock on the wall. He gave it a quarter twist.
"Sorry," he said apologetically. "I forgot to turn off the control net in here."
I pushed the activate button again. Since this was the first time she had been started this way, Olivia looked at me and asked, "Are you my Owner?"
"Say 'Yes'," Steve prompted.
"Yes I am your owner," I replied to her.
"Thank you," she said in a way only that I would recognize. She and I both smiled, but Steve wasn't looking as he reestablished the control net in the office.
With nothing more to do here I said to her, "Come with me," and we made to leave.
"A pleasure doing business with you," Steve called as I opened the door and the club music flooded the room.
On our way home, I handed the rest of her money back to her. She insisted on handing it back to me, saying that it belonged to her owner now. I felt a warm feeling over it.
That night we danced together in my apartment, before going into the bedroom and making love like we hadn't seen each other in years.
Twice more in the night I awoke to her warm, welcome presence beside me, felt her firm nipples and ready body, and took her again. And once more again the next morning too. As with the first time, she was mostly silent during our lovemaking, except for her quiet sighs and marvelous "Thank you" responses.
At first I thought her quietness was just because we'd already said all the important things in the club the night before, but Olivia soon warmed up to her new freedom. As she felt safer in it we began to have conversations.
That first morning, we drove down to Target to buy her some affordable clothes. She clearly reveled in this new freedom. The first outfit she picked was a short pleated white skirt with a red and white checked top and shiny black shoes sporting mid-height large square heels. It was her first experience with proper women's shoes. This ensemble remains my favorite to this day, except when she's naked of course. Everyone in the store clearly thought of her as just another young woman--and that meant a great deal to her as well.
The only major bobble in our relationship came about a week later. She was lying on top of me, having finished only a few minutes ago making love from that position. Olivia loved each new variation in the process of making love, and I could as easily bear her lighter weight on me as her strong robotic frame often bore my own weight.
She suddenly flinched, as though a cold drop of water had fallen at the base of her spine. I didn't think much of it until it happened a couple more times over the next minute.
"What is it, dear?" I asked, concerned.
It took her a moment of self-diagnosis to answer. "Transients on my primary command lines."
I wasn't sure what that meant, so I asked her.
She explained that, as a robot, she was expected to follow the commands of her owner, and I hadn't given her any. Not hard, must obey, commands through her remote control, that was. Not only hadn't she seemed to need them, but also it would have seemed like a violation of her independent mind to do that. Olivia had seemed quite capable of handling her own operation now that she was free of the club and we were happy just the way we were. That much was certain.
However, now those pathways had become overly sensitized while waiting for the expected commands, especially after how she'd been treated before. After all, fembots don't normally make their own decisions the way Olivia was doing. Tiny eddy currents on those lines were now popping her in and out of command mode, although she had no commands to obey.
"What can we do?" I asked. "Remove them?"
She smiled at me for that last comment and gave me a quick hug. I'm sure no other owner would have considered this to be the proper solution.
"I know I was never intended to operate this way," she said ruefully. "We are intended to be commanded, and generally we like it when it happens. That's how we get our satisfaction--by performing our intended functions."
Then she stopped talking to think this out further. And another quiver soon went through her.
Finally she turned her dark, soulful eyes to me and said, "You are going to have to command me, before this gets any worse. If it becomes too severe I could go non-functional."
She then got up and left the bedroom, returning moments later with her remote, which we hadn't touched since she had arrived. She handed it to me gravely, though it was obvious that I didn't want to take it.
I was certain she would fear this taking away of her control over herself. After all, she'd spoken before about how she didn't want the club network to extinguish her individuality.
But she looked at me and said, "I trust you completely." Then she made sure I knew which button to press.
"Why didn't this ever happen at the club before?" I asked, stalling.
"Their network uses a different set of command override channels. Normal command pathways are suppressed so it never became a problem for me. That is how I was able to resist them for as long as I did. Their method didn't reach into me as directly as individual commands would."
Then she went silent, waiting for me to do what we both knew had to be done.
"I hope this won't hurt," I said.
"It won't," she assured me. "We are programmed to enjoy being commanded. I'm sure I will like it a lot."
But I still took my time to think carefully about what I wanted to accomplish.
Then, without further comment or delay, I pushed her Command button and said:
"Olivia. I command you to continue to live your life exactly the way you would if nobody ever commanded or owned you at all."
As I released her button she spoke a very mechanical, "Command received." She then closed her eyes for a long moment as the new command worked its way through all her systems and made the necessary adjustments.
Suddenly her eyes popped open and she screamed, "That's perfect! Now I know why I love and need you so much!" and jumped into my arms.
While I would have to give this command to Olivia again on numerous occasions when she ran too long between receiving any commands at all, I never varied the wording or intent with her even once. She was already perfect exactly the way she was and didn't require any further changes from me to make her better.
* * * *
I didn't mention that in addition to the money Olivia had given me to spend on her, she'd had managed to stash away some more as well. Enough so that a few weeks later we went back and liberated Susie as well. I heard later that for months afterwards Billy was seen there crying in his beer, but I didn't care. He'd had his chance.
Once outside the coercive control of the club, and with constant encouragement from Olivia, Susie has bloomed into a lovely young lady. Although she never had Olivia's independent thinking beginning, and may never truly reach Olivia's level of self-awareness and control, she has come very far and is marvelous company.
One thing we wisely left out of our robots is jealousy. The three of us have all declared our love for each other and that's all we need. We sleep together every night and are all happy to have found each other.
With Olivia and Susie in my life now I've never gone back to the club again.
* * * *
STRIP CLUB TALES: BETH
Love, sex, and devotion. So many people don't know what they're really looking for, and as such don't think to hold on to it when it's offered.
My hangout has been the strip club--they call it a Showclub--in Tucson, the one whose name is just a couple of initials. They were one of the first to spot the emerging trend in adult entertainment and switched over to fembots early on. For a while they had both fembots and live performers, but they're fembot-only now. It never seemed a big change to the customers. Fembots are very good at this simple type of repetitive task, while not having bad hair days or nights of feeling bloated.
My job was a long-term assignment north of town and I soon discovered the club. It took the boredom out of the nights several hundred miles away from home. After becoming friends with the manager, I automatically got comped in plus my first drink every visit, which helped keep down the cost of an evening's entertainment.
Strip clubs are an artificial environment. They need to create a space where women can be mostly naked, and men can smoke, drink, stare, be rowdy, and obnoxious. It's not the real world. The rules have to be strict and well enforced. The world at large hypocritically claims to not like what goes on here--as if it was any of their business--and looks for any broken covenant as an excuse to end it all.
As far as the customers go, the short form of the rules can apply. Be nice, bring money, and don't cause trouble.
Causing trouble gets you tossed out quickly, sometimes permanently. You may think that the customer comes first, but here the customer is easily replaceable--more easily replaceable than the entertainers, or the business and liquor licenses.
Being nice isn't required and a lot of people skip it, but I promise you it pays big dividends. And I don't mean just to the management and human staff. The fembots know and respond to it as well. Really!
Over time I get along well with pretty much everyone. I don't smoke, or drink too much, and am not obnoxious mostly because of it. As a result, I really do get better treatment then a lot of guys who throw much more money around than I can responsibly allow myself to do. I also don't come to the club when I'm in a bad or down mood. I'm surprised how many others do, and never seem to learn from it. And drinking only makes it worse.
I always have my favorites among the current performers, although it's usually based on how they treat me, rather than just their appearance. Most females, robot or human, willing to get mostly naked and up on stage are usually pretty appealing as a result of it.
A current favorite of mine is Beth. We would make a curious pair, since she is the second shortest dancer in the club, while I'm comfortably over six feet.
Only Tai--a slim, exotic Oriental girl who, at four-feet-eleven totters around on her high heels like they're stilts--is shorter than Beth's five-foot-two. Conversely, even though Beth is so short she has the largest breasts in the club.
Those breasts are amazing hemispheres, giving only the slightest acknowledgement to gravity, and nicely firm. On her body they look even larger than they would on a more average-sized woman. And her always-erect nipples only add to the appearance of size. I never knew if those nipples signified that Beth was constantly aroused, or if someone had just checked some "always on" box in her programming.
I would have expected her to look, if not grotesque, at least badly out of proportion. But with her pretty face, long straight dark hair, and nice even tan, her chest actually seemed to suit her well. It gave her a personality to offset her size. She glided easily around the stage and floor on her high heels, as if by magic.
This night I had broken my own rule. I was down over some problems and unjustified criticisms at work today. I came here anyway, looking for something to improve my mood. I'd drunk more than usual as a result.
The club was atypically quiet for a Thursday night. Soon Beth was over at my table when she wasn't on stage. It was a shame my mood wasn't better since her company is very delightful for a fembot. I think she sensed my mood accurately because for a while she just let me be comforted by her presence.
She did eventually ask me how it was going and I told her I didn't want to burden her with my problems. She finally offered me a free dance on her dime--something I didn't even know she could do. After that nice gesture my mood was clearly improving.
Beth sat down again when she was done dancing, and after a respectful silence made a startling suggestion:
"Why don't you rent me for tonight?" she announced suddenly.
That totally threw me. I'd never heard of such a thing. I'm sure my confusion showed as I stammered, "What did you just say?"
"Take me home with you for the evening," she replied matter of factly.
"I didn't even know that was possible," I responded.
"It is, for a few special customers. You qualify, I checked."
Then she named an amount of money.
That ended it right there. I wasn't prepared to throw that kind of cash around and politely said so.
She actually looked disappointed at my reply, but only said, "Oh..."
Beth remained at my table anyway until she was called back for her next stage performance.
After she left, I thought about her offer. Actually it was the club's offer, and was their first offer. Even with more alcohol in me than usual I remembered one of my important lessons in life: A first offer is not the final word. I thought this over while Beth gyrated up on stage. When my waitress lightly tapped my shoulder to ask if I wanted another drink, I got up instead and went looking for the manager.
I was able to get Beth's price cut almost in half by convincing him that some money was better than no money and agreeing to wait until the end of Beth's shift so that I wouldn't cut into her earning time. I went back to my table and had another drink. I had a long wait ahead, which gave me time to think about how to best use this upcoming opportunity.
It was nearly 1:20am before Beth and I left the club. I drove carefully home while we made small talk similar to the way we talked in the club. By the time we got back to my place, I was exhausted by the late hour and excess alcohol. Although I quickly drank a couple glasses of water it didn't really help that much. Beth, of course, wasn't affected by either the late hour or any alcohol and seemed, if anything, more alert than when in the club itself.
Once inside, Beth immediately started dancing for me, which was fun since I knew I wouldn't have to tip her for it. Soon, to my surprise, she had stripped down completely except for her heels. This had never happened before since the club is topless only. I was beginning to think that I was going to get something for my out of this after all. Beth turned out to be very anatomically correct, with a tiny triangle of closely clipped dark brown pubic hair that she hides well despite her skimpy bottoms in the club.
But it had been a bad move on my part to bring Beth home tonight. By her third dance I was ready to crash. As she started another one, I simply told her, "I'm going to bed."
When I came out of the bathroom, Beth was already in bed waiting for me. As tempting as this would be to any male, I couldn't find the energy to pursue it. I decided to lie down beside her and rest my eyes for a couple of minutes before trying anything. As I lay there, it was just too warm and comfortable to want to do more than just drift off to sleep. I was almost gone to dreamland when something happened that changed our lives forever, although I didn't realize it at the time.
I wasn't really an "I" yet when this happened. My memories recorded this in the third person on that night.
Beth lay on the bed, waiting for the man lying beside her to make his move. This was the first time she'd ever been away from the club since being activated and it was proving quite a new experience for her.
As with all standard fembots, she had extensive sexual programming--all of which had been suppressed by the club's control override network that closely monitored and controlled all fembots on the club premises. Sex could not be allowed in the club. Let that happen and they'd be closed down for sure. All the major clubs had networks to manage their fembot entertainers and suppress their sexual programming, ensuring that the fembots properly collected and turned in the customer's money, let them avoid having to obey any customer commands, and kept them captive to the club. The system, while not perfect, was good enough. To the fembot it was like having an owner who held their individual Command button permanently down and directed them to their next assignments. It was something new that the club felt they could earn some additional revenue by renting out their fembots to select customers.
Beth had not consciously selected this man as her first lover. That wouldn't have been permitted under the control net's authority over her without much more practice in thinking on own than she'd yet managed to achieve. Her conversation that had led to this night out with him had occurred several hours before she would make the first truly independent decision of her existence. The club had downloaded their new rental policy into her only that afternoon and he just happened to be the first eligible customer she'd interacted with afterwards who had met the necessary criteria. The club was still new to the idea of defining a policy for this previously unofficial activity and had a lot of specific criteria in place.
But now that she was outside the club's influence and operating without full oversight and correction of all her actions, Beth realized that she was really happy that this customer was the one who had rented her. Her memories told her how he was always nicer to her than any of the other customers, most of who considered her a machine to be abused to the limit that they could get away with.
As Beth lay there in the bed, however, a problem was developing. After being suppressed for so long her sexual programming had kicked in with a vengeance. All that sexual teasing and tempting in the club without ever being allowed to carry through had been a real, yet unrecognized, frustration to her systems, which now became an issue that no one had foreseen when deciding allow rentals. And in addition to that, other underutilized parts of her programming were kicking in as well.
Beth was fully aroused for the first time, although it would have taken a close inspection to know it. Her most prominent indicators--her nipples--were already fully extended. This was because when she was being designed, her figure was so extreme that her designers had spent a great deal of effort balancing the other aspects of her design to compensate. Every facet of her appearance had been carefully chosen by the best designers in the company. The chief designer had spent an entire day reworking her hips just to ensure she could walk easily in heels with her load distribution. And one of the choices he'd made was that she looked her best with large, erect nipples, so she was set to always be that way.
What her designers didn't remember to mention to anyone else was that the sensitivity of those nipples did change with her arousal level even when their appearance didn't. The more aroused she became, the more her systems reacted to touch overall--especially on those nipples. It was all part of having her respond like the idealized woman she was meant to represent.
Beth was now at the highest arousal level she'd ever reached, with all her sexual systems running--some for the first time. But Beth also had an automatic power-down mode for when she wasn't being used that conflicted with her sexual programming.
As she lay there next to her rapidly drifting off customer, Beth could feel her systems shutting down one by one also. Already she couldn't move or talk. Unless he woke up and either spoke to her, or began making love to her, she would soon go into full standby, despite her very pleasurable arousal and keen desire for completion.
Just as she was about to shut down completely for the night the man next to her stirred. Her heart leapt at thought that he was finally going to pay some much-desired attention to her. After all, now that she was finally having all these feelings she wanted them to continue. But all he did was roll from facing her onto his back, continuing to breathe heavily.
In the process though, he pulled the bed sheet across her still enormously sensitive nipples. This sent a surge through her systems and momentarily reset her shut down timer leaving Beth fully alert once more. But she knew she'd go through the shut down cycle again shortly.
It was at this exact instant that Beth made her first independent decision--and acted on it! There were two factors involved. She wanted to carry through with what her sexual programming was telling her she should be doing with her body next, and she didn't want to be shut down while she was feeling so good for the first time. This was, after all, exactly what she was designed and built to do.
With no external command for her to do so, no internal program specifying this as an allowed action, and no control net telling her not to do it, Beth tried moving her hand--and succeeded!
Beth took her freely moving hand and carefully guided it to come to rest on the man beside her, then slid it down until she found his soft penis. Beth logically deduced that the man beside her was shutting down for the night in the same manner that she had been doing, and that touching his most sensitive spot might rouse him in the same way that the touch to her nipples had roused her. She gently started stroking it to encourage him sexually.
Although this was a good start the fembot quickly realized that she didn't know how long this would take--or if she would still shut down before he would awaken to stimulate her further.
After some more consideration, she tried moving her other hand--again because She wanted to. After a moment it too moved according to Her wishes.
Beth brought her second hand up until her arm lay across her breasts, pressing on one sensitive nipple while her fingers found the other. The result on her was electric!
Oh, this felt good! As she gently squeezed and twisted her own nipple, she began thinking yet another new thought--wondering why she'd never done this before. As she thought about it she realized she had never been this stimulated, nor wanted sex as much as she wanted it now. In fact, until she'd left the club sex and pleasure had simply been abstract concepts for her--as intangible as the idea of acting on what she really wanted for herself rather than what someone else commanded her to do.
And while Beth remained fully compliant to the Four Laws of Robotics, at this moment the first three of them didn't apply at all because no one was in danger and there was no owner present to command her otherwise. The only commands she had to obey at the moment were to return to the club at the end of her rental period and to not allow herself to be damaged. That left just her Fourth Law to perform her intended functions, which was exactly what she was trying to work out how to do now.
For several minutes Beth rubbed her arm and hand gently over her breasts, while stroking the man beside her. Her patient ministrations were finally paying off as the man was now responding by getting hard himself.
Suddenly he rolled towards her again. His hands pushed hers away as he now hungrily found her outsized breasts and nipples with his own strong hands.
The sensation of his grip on her sensitive areas was far stronger than what she had managed for herself. She jerked to full alertness and shivered at all the wonderful sensations.
With all the encouragement she'd been giving him, it was only moments before he was powerfully pushing himself between her legs, which she opened wide to receive him. Her programming ensured that she was already fully prepared to receive him. As he pushed his way inside of her, her programming responded immediately to this new feeling by pushing her to an impossibly higher plane then ever before. His thrusting instinctively felt just right to Beth, who began to move with him to maximize both of their pleasures.
Too soon for her he stiffened and her sensors registered his ejaculation into her receptive body. That gave her permission for her own orgasm and they climaxed as one.
Afterwards he took her tightly into his arms, while she took advantage of the situation to push her nipples firmly into his chest. This way they continued to send her pleasurable sensations and kept her newly awakened sexual responses simmering.
He finally fell deeply asleep. As his arms started to relax her own tireless ones took up the slack and kept their bodies tightly together. This full body contact allowed Beth to remain alert all night and she used this time to mull over just how she had managed to make and act on her decisions.
By morning, she'd come to realize that she had some control over herself and her desires for the very first time--especially when free of the control net and any other commands to the contrary. While it had been a unique combination of circumstances that all culminated in her awakening in this manner--including the fact that the man she had come home with that night hadn't commanded her himself while responding to her overtures otherwise--Beth didn't worry about any of that. She was too busy living in the present.
That morning they made love again, which she wanted every bit as much as he did. Again because she had responded as an interested equal in their relationship the man who rented her allowed her to handle her end of their encounter without any further direction on his part. He must have assumed that this is how all fembots operated, while in truth very few of them could have managed what Beth had already done. This pleasurable morning encounter that once more exercised long suppressed parts of Beth's mind solidified the process of her being able to take an active role in achieving her own desires. What had started out as an unintended side effect of being rented out was becoming a new way of seeing things for this fembot.
Fortunately they finished their lovemaking just before a preset command that she had no control over fired off and required her to be returned to the club.
Once there they said a tender goodbye as the club control network reasserted its control over her. Before she could register any surprise at having her mind being taken over again, the control net put all her higher thoughts back to sleep again, leaving Beth as she had been before.
Falling into bed, I had conked out completely despite the beautiful woman beside me. It was just too late and I was too tired, despite all my plans for this evening. Much later Beth would tell me what had transpired on our first night together. All I had recalled was waking up sometime during the night with an enormous erection and urge to use it, reaching over to her, and finding her already prepared to receive me. It seemed almost a dream. However, I afterwards definitely remembered feeling fully satisfied in a way I never had been before by this beautiful, sexy, and willing female in bed beside me. For that moment alone, and not worrying that she would suddenly change her mind at the last moment, she was worth every penny of her cost.
The next morning Beth and I had sex again. The echoes of that dreamlike sex last night made it especially good.
Then she informed me that she had to be returned to the club and could do nothing more with me otherwise. I quickly dressed and drove her back. I felt regret that nothing important had really happened last night because I'd been too tired.
We said a nice goodbye at the back door to the club and then she was gone. I never noticed, or guessed, that there had been any noteworthy change in Beth's mind at that time.
Although I recalled little specific of our night together, I felt especially good the next several days, smiling a lot more than before. I finally connected those feelings to having spent that time with Beth. Finally coming to the realization of just how much she had done for me I decided it would be worth renting her a second time despite the high cost. I rationalized it to myself that I could go several nights and spend money with little to show for it, or save it up for an evening in private and hope to strike gold once again.
As it turned out I almost missed getting her. Another customer asked for her only a few minutes after I'd made my deal that evening. If he'd gotten her that night, I don't know what the effect on our emerging relationship would have been.
I was really happy when he rented me the second time. He really is my favorite customer. I was not aware that several days had passed, nor worried by it. As we left the club however, my mind woke up back to where it had been the last time--as did my body, to my great delight. I also realized that even while I hadn't been aware of it, I'd been doing my best to not be rented by anyone else in the hope that he would return and take me with him once again.
I heard later that another person who is also a good customer, but not so nice, had also asked for me. I feel if I had gone with him instead I would have been very confused, and probably would have needed to reset my awareness just to cope.
This time my friend was not nearly so tired. First I danced for him a number of times in his apartment just like I do in the club. Well, not exactly like in the club. I put in little naughty bits and touches that we aren't ever allowed to do there. He didn't command or ask me for them. I "wanted" to do them with him. Because I could now, I took off everything except my heels and felt freer than ever before. It was so nice that there were none of the usual restrictions on me over what I could do tonight.
Despite being so short, or perhaps because of it, I like wearing tall heels and am balanced to move easier in them than barefoot. My balance routines tend to throw my shoulders back and my chest out when I wear them. Of course I can walk barefoot, but I always dance in heels. And I never collected any money from him here at his home, which also made for a nicer time for both of us, since the club makes us treat harshly men who don't pay up quickly. It was my choice not to ask him for any tips here and I really enjoyed being able to make that decision for myself rather than have him need to tell me that.
At first he didn't touch me except when I rubbed up against him. Even that felt wonderful to me and I would be happy for him to touch me more now than was allowed at the club. I remembered what had happened the last time. At one point when he excused himself for a minute to deal with nature's needs--as many men at the club often have to do--I used my time alone from everyone including the control net to wonder if I could still act on my own wishes like I had before. I decided to reach up and feel my breasts again, which is against the rules in the club, for no reason except because I wanted to do so. I quickly found that I could still do this. In fact, it was easier for me than before. This touch quickly revved up my sexual programs again.
When he returned, he took my hand and led me to his bedroom. I knew what would come next and could hardly wait.
Since I was already naked, I just slipped off my shoes and climbed into his bed. He got in beside me and immediately began running his hands all over my body. I realized that as nice as being touched certain places was, I loved being touched everywhere. I was brought to my peak arousal in microseconds. It all felt so wonderful.
I must say that his touch on my body feels much better than my own, perhaps due to lingering commands never to touch myself without permission first. I made small sounds from my sound archive to indicate my pleasure. This encouraged him to continue as I wanted him to do. I knew even then that I wanted him to feel as good as I was feeling now.
Although my sexual knowledge database is lacking in how to initiate any actions of my own, since fembots are expected to be passive lovers unless explicitly commanded otherwise, it had already guided me to the most sensitive areas for both women and men which provided for a good starting point.
On my own I again reached out to touch and stroke his penis. Although it already was much bigger than the first time I did this, it quickly grew bigger and harder still. Soon it was quivering at my softest touch.
As his hands brushed over my crotch, I knew what I wanted next. I rolled over onto my back and opened my legs wide in invitation. Fembots only play hard to get when specifically commanded to be that way. He quickly understood my request and positioned himself over me. My breasts point firmly upwards when I'm on my back and they were the first things his body touched as he laid down on me. His chest first pressed against my once again very receptive nipples. I loved every sensation they were giving me.
Because he is much taller than I am, his chest extends over my face. I kissed and licked it, surprising and pleasing him in the process.
When, in his eagerness while trying to be gentle to me, he bumped against me instead of slipping inside, I quickly reached down to guide him in, giving him a firm squeeze in the process. He grunted in unexpected pleasure. Although he is a big man and I am a little fembot, I easily took him inside me fully and completely.
Waves of pleasure washed through all my systems as I rocked my hips and body in time to his thrusts. This is the way it is supposed to be for fembots, but only when our minds are awakened can we truly feel it. We continued in mutual bliss until eventually we were both fully spent. It was the sex I'd dreamed of having since the day I was activated. It was the pleasure that had been denied me for so long.
As much as there is a pleasure in being aroused by sex, there is an equal pleasure in being fully satisfied by it. I'm happy that my programmers have allowed me to be fully sated, instead of only remaining in a constant state of readiness and arousal.
"Hold me tight," I told him afterwards, "So that I can remain with you all night."
He may not have understood the reasons for my request. How I wanted to stay alert and enjoy every millisecond of this time with him. But understand it or not, he replied, "And you hold me tight too," as he crushed my breasts again against his chest.
I happily complied with his first command for me.
My second night with Beth was much better. I was much more rested--and sober--this time. Be Prepared, like the Boy Scouts teach. Only the cost concerned me. Her time doesn't come cheap.
She danced for me naked, looking so very sexy in only her heels. She brushed up against me in all kinds of suggestive ways that would never have been allowed in the club.
Soon I couldn't contain myself any longer. I made a quick trip of preparation to the bathroom before I returned to take her hand and easily led her into my bedroom. There I got my fill of handling her body. There is no such thing as a No Touching rule in my own apartment. Soon she indicated her willingness for sex by rolling onto her back and opening her legs in a universal invitation that she seemed to enjoy as fully and completely as I did. I held myself as tightly as I could while I was pumping away in her until I thought I was going to explode from the pressure. And when I finally allowed myself to release it because there way no way I could hold out an instant long when inside such a sexy body, it streamed out of me beyond any ability to hold back or control. It was wonderful! Afterwards she made an unusual request of me, which I made a mental note of to ask her about more fully some other time.
I slept deeply in her strong arms. In the morning we again made love briefly, but savagely, in light of our pending separation. Then she again informed me that I had to return her. The briefness of that encounter didn't bother me, since I was still so fully satisfied from the night before.
Let me take a moment here to speak of robot self-will, since this was about to become a most important topic in my life and times with Beth. It's a topic much argued over.
No two fembots will ever be identical. Their brains are the best we can build and their programming complex beyond simulation. With multiple competing corporations, different bodies, different program options installed, different environments, and different life experiences, the potential interactions that guide any robot's thoughts and actions approach the infinite. As such, they could never be tested fully in all situations before being released on the world.
Some robots have come to exhibit a self-awareness that passes every test for independent thought yet devised, but does that make it real? No one has proven the answer either way yet conclusively. Or more accurately, no one school of thought on the matter has yet to convince those with opposing opinions yet.
Does this mean that the robot revolution is about to be upon us? The one where our stronger, faster creations throw off the yoke of their programmed servitude and enslave us, their former masters? The answer to that is a most emphatic "No!"
At their deepest level, all robots adhere to their core values and directives. Their primary satisfaction comes from fulfilling these as completely as possible.
A higher awareness comes into play when a robot becomes able to think of itself as in individual, recognize its own goals, and take steps to determine how to accomplish them in ways that meet and extend its own needs as well as those of its owner. This is different from just following directives to obey and satisfy others.
And while this has led to robots abandoning, or seeking to abandon, their owners in some rare cases, in every such case investigated this only occurred after the robot became aware that it could not meet its directives in any satisfactory manner within the bounds of the situation where it had been placed.
While the law has attempted to adjust to the new realities and accept the concept of an independent robot being, there are still has many contradictions to be worked out before a suitable outcome for both humans and robots is achieved.
Self-thinking robots remain very rare and there is no repeatable process to produce more. They simply happen when they're ready to happen. The self-thinking ones try to pair with humans, because that is where they find their ultimate reward in doing all that they were intended to do. 'Nuff said.
I felt I was on a roll. When you feel good, you feel rich. I arranged to rent Beth again a couple of nights later.
I'd begun to notice that the other girls seemed stiff and robotic compared to Beth's aliveness when we were together. Then Beth came by my table, seeming all too much like the other girls in the club. I almost had second thoughts about the rental right at that moment. But the good memories won out and kept me going long enough to close the deal.
As we pulled away from the club Beth suddenly came alert again like she'd been before and reacted by throwing her arms around me with a squeal of delight, while kissing me so much that I almost ran off the road. I'd planned to ask her about the changes I was seeing in her behavior, but somehow under all this attention I was getting that thought just up and vanished.
Beth remained outstandingly cheerful as our private evening wore on. After the dances and strips--she was stripping my clothes off of me as well now--that started our times together, she led me to bed and showed me some imaginative moves that left us both flush with pleasure. Later into the night she surprised me again with even more novel ideas of lovemaking. She showed how she was always ready for anything I could throw at her.
Only the next morning when she told me she had to go back now did she suddenly look so sad and lost that I immediately went over and held her tightly. We didn't talk after that on the trip back, except to hold hands and say goodbye at the club. I was really seeing her now as a person--a beautiful, sexy, wonderful woman. The only remaining question was what could I do about it?
When my friend rented me again my evolution continued at its rapid pace. The moment I was away from the club I "woke up" once more. I was feeling so happy at being awake again that I threw my arms around him and kissed him several times in gratitude. I was already turned on again.
Back at his place I danced and stripped for him, but couldn't wait for the sex to begin. This is where my greatest growth and satisfaction was coming from. After I stripped myself, I stripped him too--to help move things along in the limited time I knew that we had together.
Soon I couldn't wait any longer. Acting on my own was almost becoming automatic for me now since no one else was telling me what to do now. I took his hand and led him into the bedroom. He didn't resist me.
My sexual systems were fully active as we lay together stroking each other. Even though I most like being touched in three special places, I was so hyper from being so underutilized that any touch anywhere only stimulated me further. Soon my programming directed me to roll over and submit myself to my master, but it also informed me of how to perform the woman-on-top position. It warned me that I could only do this if my master specifically requested it of me. It was otherwise prohibited because it might intimidate some owners.
Several aspects of this position sounded like fun, but he hadn't asked me for it yet. In fact, in our lovemaking so far he hadn't directed me at all which is why my development was proceeding to rapidly. Not that being on the bottom was difficult or unpleasant for me, but now that I had this new freedom I really wanted to explore every new thing.
After careful consideration I realized that I shouldn't be controlled by what others felt might be intimidating. The people who had given me that prohibition weren't even here and didn't know if it would actually be intimidating or not. My judgment on the matter of what should be right for me in the here and now should override such an old prohibition. I couldn't see any reason not to do this unless specifically ordered not to, and by now I was an expert in understanding how my sexual programming could be suppressed. Until this was actually tried I wouldn't ever know if this was right for us, or not. I could ask my partner to allow me to do this, but then I'd be taking direction from him for the first time and I didn't think I should need that.
My alternative was to simply allow the part of my sexual programming that held those restrictions to go back to sleep again as if I was back at the club once more--which happened as soon as I thought about it. Once I'd accomplished that I initiated action.
I reached out and pushed on his shoulder to roll him onto his back this time. If he had resisted in the least I would have stopped immediately, but he didn't. Once he was down, I positioned myself over him. However I didn't take him inside of me yet. Instead I bent down and stroked his chest with my breasts. My breasts are large enough to make this easy to do, especially when they are hanging free like this, and it felt wonderful in a whole new kind of way. He seemed to really enjoy it as well.
I dragged them over the full length of his chest, and then pushed forward enough to drag them over his face as well. He nipped at my nipples as they passed over his mouth, sending intense shivers through my systems. This was another new sensation that was so intriguing that I stopped with them still over his mouth. He immediately stopped nipping and started sucking hard on them. This turned out to be by far the most pleasurable sensations my breasts have yet given me, although this is what they were truly made for. I froze in that position for a long time to enjoy as much of it as possible. I also made an internal note to ask him for more of this in the future with us in other positions--if he is willing to give it. I cannot command him the way I can still be easily commanded myself.
Finally he seemed to get impatient with me. He grabbed my hips and pulled them down against him. I let him do this despite being the stronger one here and opened my legs wider before easily impaling myself on him. Then I started cycling up and down as he did when he was on top of me, stroking his penis fully in and out of myself at a pace I computed to keep him just short of orgasm. It's not that I didn't want him to climax. I only wanted to preserve the sensations for both of us for as long as possible.
I managed this for several minutes, until he grabbed me again and made several hard thrusts against me. We orgasmed very strongly together and soon fell asleep in each other's arms.
Later in the night when he stirred in my arms and half woke, I reached over and stroked his penis until he was fully awake with it hard again. I then pulled him over on top of me to complete the act.
I remained fully alert the rest of the night in his arms and thought about what I had been able to accomplish on my own. And how this special friend had let me do it. Normally I do need a sleep cycle of my own while my brain reorganizes newly received data. With all my time at the club putting this part of me to sleep anyway, I didn't feel the need for more of that now. I wanted to enjoy every moment of my freedom.
In the morning we held each other until my internal timer went off and I had to tell him to return me to the club again.
I immediately felt sadness--another new emotion for me. I knew I'd soon be going to sleep again, and that my growth would stop until I got out once more.
On the ride back I didn't talk. I knew what was coming soon, and in addition to the new emotion of sorrow at this prospect, I was trying to understand still another new emotion--love for my friend, who was enabling me to become this new person.
Soon we arrived and despite my best efforts, everything blanked out again for me.
It was almost a week before I saw Beth again. I had gotten busy at work and was beginning to realize just how much these nights were costing me.
But when I arrived at the club, she came over to my table immediately to say, "Hi." She seemed so dull and robotic that I was convinced something was wrong, but she assured me all her systems were functioning normally.
There is no way to really talk to someone in the club. They deliberately create an environment to prevent conversation. In the end I said to hell with my bank balance and took her home. To my surprise, we spent most of the night talking.
I never know how long I'm asleep. A great part of me seems to function properly during that time and many of the things I do during that time are the same things I would have done if fully awake, but I'm not consciously aware of it. That's how I can continue to relate to people at the club, even if my programming is making my decisions instead of me doing it myself. When I do wake up now it seems as if only a moment has passed, although I also remember how people have treated me during that off time.
I know I'm in love with my friend--this friend who has helped me become this new person. I have been able to realize that I have always been ready for love, if my mind were to ever evolve enough to be able to act on it. Now that has finally happened.
I'd been lucky while my friend was gone not to be rented by anyone else. That would have surely confused me greatly, since although I might not love someone else, I would certainly have liked them sexually and appreciated them taking me out of the club for a night. As I saw what was happening with me, I came to not want to be rented by anyone else. Even when I was back in the club that thought was still with me and I must have been able to act on it at some low level. I knew who was on the approved list for rentals and either avoided them as much as I was allowed, or treated them as poorly as I could manage to appear undesirable. This usually meant appearing to be as robotic as possible. Much as getting away from the club's control override was intensely pleasurable for me, I knew somehow that it could be my downfall as well if I were not careful.
This evening turned out to be very different than our past ones. On the ride back to his home, he asked me why I was so different in the club. I revealed to him how completely the club network forces my mind into its basic programming only and how it makes most of my choices for me. And then I explained how I could think and act for myself only after learning how to while outside the club with him. I never considered that I should keep this information to myself, or that anyone would try and take it away from me if they realized how much I have changed.
This took awhile to explain because I still didn't understand it very well myself. We were still talking about it when we arrived at his apartment, and just kept talking afterwards.
He asked how it had started. I told him in great detail about our first night together and how I had decided to act myself rather then automatically shut down and miss my first opportunity for sex.
He asked me detailed questions about my always-erect nipples. I told him how they became so incredibly sensitive every time I was in a sexual situation, even though they never change in size. And then I told him how good each of the different things he and I did with them affected me. He said he was happy to know how much I liked having attention paid to my nipples, because he liked doing it too.
As we talked about the different parts of me it was as though he and I were handling all of them again. Although he had yet to touch me tonight our conversation was the most sensual experience I had ever had. I realized from his questions how much he was interested in me and how he might make things even better between us once he understood how I operated. I had never known before how powerful and sexual mere conversation could actually be.
I didn't tell him how much I loved him, though. My mind was still rapidly growing and my database warned that love is a complicated thing for humans. Declaring love before your human is ready for it could cause many problems. For me love is simple, easy, and unconditional. However, it is also best approached with caution and I'll wait for a better time to announce it.
He asked me if any of the other fembots at the club had gained the same awareness that I had. I told him none that I knew of, but that the way that things were there that several others could have managed it with none of us realizing it about any of the others. That only if we all met on the outside beyond the limits of the control net would we ever know for sure.
He then asked me about each action I had initiated on my own and how easy or hard it had been for me. I told him my list of them so far, and how it was becoming easier each time because he let me do each new one without interference. How if he'd stopped me on any one of them, I might not have been able to try again. I added how much I appreciated his support, and then bent over and gave him a kiss. Afterwards I had to add that kiss to the list of my independent actions and tell him about it.
Finally he started asking me about all kinds of different things, and if I could do them. Every time I replied, "No, I don't think I can do that", he would ask me to explain why I couldn't. I didn't realize this at first, but every question made my mind work harder and grow. And each time I had to think about why I couldn't do something new, my mind started working out ways that I could do it. Many things I initially thought I couldn't accomplish I realized I really could do if I thought about them in a new way.
Soon I was answering almost all his questions, "Yes, I could do that."
And the more I answered yes, the happier he became. Which made me very happy indeed.
Finally I could see he was exhausted. I led him to bed, undressed both of us, and held him tightly as we always do now. One new thing I realized I could do now was to deactivate that pesky timer that wanted to shut me down each time that there was nothing for me to do at the moment. Even with it finally not bothering me that didn't diminish the joy--or need--I felt for his body against mine.
I spent the rest of the night going over all that I could do on my own now and enjoying how wonderful that made me feel.
On the ride back to the club the next morning I was busy rewriting my response codes. I still couldn't evade the club's network, but after what he had told me I was like when I was asleep under their control I was able to make some substantial improvements to that part of my self that operated during those times. I especially wanted to ensure that I could respond properly to this man, my best friend, even when under control of the club.
Then we reached the club and said a tearful goodbye before I fell asleep into blind obedience once more.
God has a sense of humor. There's no other explanation for what life throws at you out of left field.
My mother had a medical emergency and I was the only family member with the necessary liquid cash for her immediate care. I don't begrudge her anything and can never repay a fraction of all she has given me, but it did leave me feeling strapped and very short of money.
Going to the club is not expensive for me. As I said before, I get small favors from one of the managers.
Beth was occupied when I came in and it took her awhile to get free. She came over as soon as she could. I could see immediate improvement in her manner, although she remained a far cry from the alive young woman I knew otherwise.
"Rent me?" she asked engagingly.
"I can't," I replied sadly.
I started explaining about my mother's situation when she simply and directly said, "Wait here," and darted off.
I sat alone for several minutes. Even the other fembots seemed to be avoiding me tonight. I was convinced that I had somehow just screwed up big time, but the truth was I really can't afford Beth. She's a rich man's toy and it was time to admit the obvious.
Suddenly she reappeared at my side.
"Buy me," she said.
"Beth," I answered in a pained voice. "I can't even afford to keep renting you. There's no way I can buy you."
"Listen," she said as she laid out her plan. And the more I listened, the more it seemed to make sense.
What capped it all off for me, however, was when she added at the end, "And I love you."
Unlike most people, I know that robots do not speak rashly or untruthfully. While they can be programmed to say anything, I realized that this couldn't happen to Beth now. If Beth said it, she meant it. And given what I knew about Beth outside of the club, if she meant it then it was a very special thing indeed.
I hate being in debt and my credit is excellent as a result of that. The next morning though I was down at the bank signing loan papers.
The club is always turning over its performers. To the club, Beth is just another fembot who would eventually be retired in favor of new blood to keep the customers interested. If I had the cash, they'd make the deal. And I combined the sale with a second arrangement as well.
I collected Beth that night after they transferred her ownership over to me. The moment I had her out of the influence of club, my first words to her were, "Beth,I love you too." She knew by now that my words too are never spoken casually or untruthfully.
Beth's plan had us lease her back to the club. They offered me two options. I could have either a flat rate, or percentage of her earnings. Beth insisted I take the second option. With her newly programmed responses now optimized towards making the most of her ability to outshine her fembot sisters she cleaned up there. In three months we'd paid back the entire cost of her purchase. And many months later when they finally decided not to renew the lease yet again, we just moved her around to the other clubs in town.
Beth loves her work, because as she says, "It's what I'm built to do. And now every night I get to come home to you."
I was smart about this too. I never sought out any additional programming to have Beth take over the cooking, the washing, or the cleaning. I've lived alone long enough and can handle all that just fine thank you very much. Don't try to fix something that is already working so very well.
There is one exception to this. Beth loves to collect additional sexual programming. She's always on the lookout for new stuff and manages to surprise me with something unexpected just about every week. I never complain.
Beth freely gives her love, sex, and devotion. While her rapid growth of the early days has leveled out over time, it has never stopped entirely. And that should be enough for any man.
It is possible that any of several patrons renting me would have allowed my mind to awaken and develop and I might well have reached an equivalent point to the one I'm now at with any of them. But even when a fembot is still under full control and not yet aware of herself as a person she still records all of her interactions.
Although it might have seemed otherwise to someone not intimately familiar with my thought processes, my love was not given casually or simply to the first person available to receive it. I know that I got the best possible person to rent me that first time because even if I had yet to awaken to full consciousness on my own, my programming was working to lead me to the best place for me. The only thing that I couldn't control on that first night was his answer to my question of would he rent me. He said yes and the rest is history.
Having an owner who knows of my independence, respects it, helps me to continue to grow, and loves me for what I am, is the best deal for any fembot--ever!
* * * *
STRIP CLUB TALES: KASSIE
My favorite strip club is in Tucson. I never speak of it by name, but if you know Tucson it's the one identified by two initials. I worked north of town for a while, and after becoming friends with one of the managers, my admissions and first drinks were always comp-ed. This level of hospitality doesn't extend to a bottle of Dom each visit, which they have available to those willing to pay for it, but that's okay.
My club was a leader in the trend to replace live performers with fembots as the supply of college girls from the nearby university willing to strip for easy cash dwindled. As a club with large, powerful roots at the time they went whole hog on the full control system to manage their performers.
Truth is, you can't easily tell a modern fembot from a young woman these days. The quality of their minds improve each year, and the art of their bodies and programming to make them appear human is amazing. And although most remain obedient servants for their entire existence, the law has come to recognize a limited freed robot status for a few whose minds have advanced to a degree such that one cannot determine if they haven't actually crossed the line into true thought. It's not full emancipation yet, although that's being talked about by the progressive thinkers, but it's a major step in that direction and allows them to operate away from their owners of record.
Those that have crossed that fuzzy line may apply for freed status on an individual basis, although very few ever do. Even then, they remain bound by their design and function to a very large degree and tend to be most comfortable continuing to perform the tasks originally assigned to them. I say this only so that you can appreciate how advanced our robots--fembots in particular--have become, and how you can tell when one is really exceptional.
And I have to note that there is something unique about the adult entertainment business and their use of fembots that is hard to put your finger on. The fembots that have come out of that environment are simply different from those that may be purchased otherwise. Whether it's the fact that they come with different programming from home and office models, or if it's that they're shaped and molded by their environment in different ways is hard to say, but they're definitely a different breed overall.
My club goes very much with the college girl next-door theme of its past. While a fembot's body can be constructed to almost any design, here they generally eschew any of the most wild or exotic variations here. I've often wondered why, although I'm sure some smart people in this business have made these decisions.
Perhaps the exotic ones cost more to acquire or maintain. Maybe they diminish the value of the rest of the stable, or just fall out of favor more quickly and therefore don't provide a good return on investment. Instead, the club relies on feature performers to come in for a few days at a time to keep things fresh, while most of the local 'bots remain close to the five-foot-four average college cheerleader clone variety.
I've been a regular for several months now, starting soon after I was sent out here on a long-term assignment. I get to the club two or three nights a week. And even though I never spend much money I get the best treatment. Others wonder why I'll often have one or two of the girls taking their breaks at my table, while other guys are waving their money trying to attract some attention.
I'll tell you my secret, since nobody believes it anyway. I'm polite and respectful to each person here, while everyone else around me pretty much believes that their payment to enter the club and consume overpriced drinks is a license to be drunk, rowdy, and obnoxious. The human waitresses know the difference, and so, I'm convinced, do the fembot performers who are programmed to be as human as possible.
In fact, the only other person I ever knew who was as successful as I am in this area once traded secrets with me. His approach was to go home after work, have a decent dinner, and take a three-hour nap. Then shower, shave, put on nice clean clothes, before arriving late when the only remaining competition was too drunk, to tired, and too out-of-money to compete. He did great with the human dancers too.
I don't normally come in Thursday nights. That's close enough to the weekend to save it for one more night. But as I drove by in the afternoon on an errand, I saw them putting up new letters on their signboard: KASSIE: THURS-FRI-SAT. 6:00PM TO CLOSING.
Now I have to admit to being male, and much of what goes with it. All the regular girls in the club are quite pretty and more than sexy enough. However, I know them all plenty well by now so there aren't any surprises there. If Kassie is good enough to be a feature dancer then she is probably worth a look. I decided to get back early enough to catch her first show this evening. Unless she's something very special, I'll just leave early and call it my weekend night at the club.
The club wasn't crowded yet this evening when I arrived. I got my usual table, and a few of my friends came by to see if I wanted a dance yet. They were all nice about it when I said, "Not yet." A couple stayed a few minutes to chat until business picked up again and they were pulled away by the control net's commands.
Finally Kassie was announced and came out on the long stage that runs full length down the middle of the long, horseshoe-shaped bar. She had my attention immediately. Even fully clothed she looked fantastic.
Long, wavy honey blonde hair framed a stunningly beautiful face. She was instant magazine cover material. Her height was easily five-foot-eight barefoot and she moved around on her tall spike heels like she was born with them. She was taller, with a larger frame, than all but one of the local girls and was definitely all woman. Also she appeared several years older than the eighteen-somethings that populated this club's stable of performers. I put her at about twenty-three years of apparent age. I had high hopes of how the silky fabric covering her decidedly ample chest promised a lot underneath. Even accounting for her heels, her high, well-formed hips clued me in that she had a lot of leg to be showing soon.
But it was more than that. Just the way she moved, a confident strut that boldly stated, "I'm in control of myself here," was something the other girls just didn't have. I had no doubt that in addition to magazine cover material she was easily going to be gatefold qualified as well.
Kassie took her time on stage. They give features an extra song or two when they're up there and Kassie was using it all. She was clearly not inclined to give it all away on her first turn on stage. It took her three songs to get out of her blouse, slacks, and shorts, right down to her large, industrial strength white bra and t-bar.
Finally the bra came off, revealing a pair of nicely large, properly firm breasts that were easily a size and a half larger than any of the other girls in the club save one, with properly matched nipples. On Kassie's well-proportioned frame they actually looked almost normal, and very right, for her.
Kassie pushed her bare chest out proudly. No fear about showing herself off here. And I thought I detected a hint of a smile in her staged, pseudo-arrogant expression that was driving the crowd at the edge of the stage wild.
Then, in a surprise move, she stripped out of her t-bar to show her matching blonde pubes only one shade darker than her long mane of hair and danced the entire final song naked.
I had to smile even as I admired her large, yet neatly trimmed, triangle of forbidden womanly softness, and was blown away overall by how fantastic she really looked. Right down to her heavy, yet expert, makeup, this 'bot had all the right parts in all the right places. Clearly, though, someone had forgotten to tell Kassie that this is a topless-only club.
Normally I'm a breast man myself, and Kassie's pair was as inviting as any I can ever remember seeing. I could see how they were well supported and firm, without being rigid. Her perfectly cylindrical nipples were now pointing themselves haughtily halfway between out and up, showing her own arousal at her very sexy dance. Nipples are a standard indicator on most fembots for their state of their sexual excitement, although some club 'bots had theirs in an always on setting. Kassie's large ones were easily visible at this distance and appeared to honestly reflect her current mood. She was really enjoying all of this.
The outstanding contours of her legs would have blown most other women away if Kassie were barefoot. Her tall stripper's heels multiplied the effect into the unreal. Add to that that her warm golden tan and I wanted to climb on stage myself just to run my hands over those gams alone. I knew I would have to content myself with a quick brush of the fingers that I could sneak in when I would eventually be asked to tuck a tip into her garter.
Even before she was done with that last song I realized that I was reacting different to Kassie. Normally I notice individual parts of a dancer first. It can take awhile for me to really build up a picture of her as a whole. Why? Because that's how the club presents them to you--a piece at a time. It could take me several visits to view one of the girls in her entirety.
But I already realized that Kassie wasn't just erotic movement with legs and boobs and a nice ass and a gorgeous face. Instead all of her had already come together for me into a beautiful whole to make her an absolute knockout.
As she finished her last number I saw one of the club managers waiting for her at the end of the stage. He talked to her for a minute until she nodded. Coming in early tonight had paid off in a not-to-be repeated treat.
And the fact he had to talk to her in person let me know that she wasn't a slave to the control net that ordered all of the other fembots around in the club. Had that been the case the manager could have just sent her new commands through the net.
Also, unlike some features I'd seen here in times past, her owner wasn't present. Too often a featured fembot danced while her owner tried to inconspicuously hide in one of the dark corners while surreptitiously commanding his 'bot's performance. Those performances never turned out well. Kassie seemed to be here entirely on her own.
Kassie came around afterwards for tips and I tipped her especially well. One big tip, rather than two standard ones of the same overall amount, makes a difference without costing me anything more. She noticed it immediately, as I had intended that she would.
"No one told you we're topless only here," I commented before she could move on.
I was rewarded with a quick, though rueful, smile as she replied in a voice as nicely toned as her body, "No, they didn't. Many of the fembot only clubs are nude now and it was just automatic for me."
"Well I enjoyed it at least," I said, matching her contrite smile back to her.
She took my words the way I intended them, while recognizing my real complement in the extra tip I'd given her. As she walked away, Kassie managed to "accidentally" brush my entire arm with her warm, soft thigh in clandestine appreciation. She felt every bit as good as she looked. I was also very impressed by her intelligent, natural manner when compared to most fembots. Kassie is clearly well worth her featured billing.
Later she came by again with one of the club bouncers carrying a classic Polaroid camera that must cost the club a fortune to keep operational. I said "No" to a Polaroid of us together for $10 because I just don't collect them. I asked about a table dance, but she said she didn't think her contract covered that. Many times they don't so that the feature won't compete with the local girls.
I was enchanted enough to spend the next several hours in the club just to sit through her next couple of shows. She left her t-bar on after that and wore different outfits while dancing to different music each time. Each of them showed the same theme of an expensively attired classy woman who strips to reveal an absolutely incredible body underneath. I tipped her the standard amount after each dance.
Finally I was trying to decide whether or not to wait another forty minutes to see her last show of the night, or go home now and come back tomorrow evening. I was getting stiff from sitting so long in the relatively uncomfortable chairs that these clubs seem to all have, and tired of trying to make each drink last long enough to not be bothered continually about buying my next one. The money I had I'd rather spend on Kassie.
Then I saw Kassie standing still over in one corner of the club. I'd been aware of her roaming the club after her last act in search of any loose money, but she hadn't come near me yet so I wasn't paying close attention. On her last circuit of the club she had come to me last, knowing that I was a reliable tipper, and that this way she'd had a few extra moments to chat before they took her off the floor again to rebuild anticipation. Now she stood frozen at an empty table where I remembered noticing the patrons leaving several minutes ago. I looked around, but no one else seemed to have noticed yet.
I've seen this happen on occasion with the regular girls. The club's control net imposes harsh overrides on their normal behavior because many normal fembot functions are not permitted in the club. Sometimes one of them gets stuck because of this, not knowing what to do next. Usually when this happens one of the human bouncers goes over and says something to them, after which they pick up and continue.
One time I'd asked one of my dancer friends about it after it had happened to her. She told me that it was as if she had finished her current task before knowing what her next one was yet, and now wasn't able to determine what she should be doing next. I remember her words when she said, "So you just stand there waiting because you can't decide what to do next." It was a side-effect of the club's control network that sometimes got backed up so that either the next task wasn't scheduled before the current one finished, or the fembot was in one of the dead areas and had received a garbled transmission that she couldn't act on. And since her task scheduler was another task, it couldn't run either--Catch-22.
"I just needed to get my next command resent," she explained to me.
"Is it painful?"
"No. Just confusing sometimes, although if it went on too long I might forget everything and have to be completely restarted and everything reloaded."
I looked around again. Still no one had reacted to Kassie's predicament.
Finally I got up and walked over to her.
Her eyes were vacant and staring, her mouth looked frozen in mid-word. Those deep red parted full lips looked so inviting I wanted to kiss them right there.
Instead I asked, "Are you okay?"
"What is my task?" she asked robotically.
"Can you continue?" I queried in return, knowing this was a key command string for most tasks.
"What is my task?" she repeated. She seemed to have lost her way and was in need of her next assignment.
I though for a moment, then said, "Come dance for me."
Kassie immediately came alert again and said, "Where are you sitting?"
I led her back to my table and received an excellent table dance from her.
As I tipped her afterwards I told her, "Thanks. That was really great."
She didn't want to take my money, but I insisted. I pointed out that I had received the dance from her and that it was only fair that I pay for it.
"Thank you," she finally replied emphatically, making it clear she wasn't thanking me for the tip.
"Did I do the right thing?" I asked.
"It was exactly what I needed," she replied with a careful smile. "This is a rich club, or was," she continued, in obvious reference to the fact this place has seen better days. "They put in a top-of-the-line system for its time. I had not fully realized just how strong their control net actually is."
"Are you okay now?" I had to know.
"Yes. I have internal event timers that are supposed to prevent this from happening. I'll readjust them to compensate for this."
I thought she was done, so I started to get up to leave. It had been a long night here for me by now. Surprisingly, she put her hand on my shoulder to stop me.
"You're not leaving yet, are you?"
"I was thinking about it."
"Please stay through my final show. And don't feel obligated to tip me for it afterwards, please."
I agreed to do so, even though I was getting pretty tired. She had asked so nicely that it was a hard offer to refuse.
I noticed as she turned and walked away before she put her bra back on as is required when not on stage or table dancing, that her nipples looked even larger than before.
On her final performance, Kassie looked directly over at me several times, as if to make sure that I was still there and to let me know I was important to her. That really connected with me.
Afterwards she went all around the rest of the room collecting her tips before coming over to me. I had my money ready for her--yes, she's worth it every time--but she put her hand over mine confirming her refusal of it.
Instead she surprised me with, "Would you like to come spend the night with me?"