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by D.B. Story
Category: Erotica/Erotic Romance/Science Fiction
Description: Lindsey's Story tells the touching tale of a young fembot designed for a life as a throwaway toy in a society that expects nothing more for her. Can she possibly get lucky enough to find an owner who sees more in her than that? (Note to buyers: This story is also contained in the anthology: The Fembot Chronicles--Volume 1, available in e-book and print. In the same way that iTunes sells individual tracks off of an album, individual stories are available without the need to buy the entire anthology.)
eBook Publisher: Excessica Publishing,
eBookwise Release Date: August 2010
1 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [105 KB]
Reading time: 39-55 min.
"I really liked the fact that there is a buildup to Steve and Lindsey's relationship, that the author took the time to bring his characters to life and not thrown them straight into bed... I really, really enjoyed this story and do hope that others will like just as much." -Ren, Happily Ever After Reviews, 4/5 CUPS
We ended up in an upscale shopping district that was everything I had dreamt of the future being. But I didn't get much chance to look inside the fascinating stores selling things I couldn't begin to identify. Amy threaded her way around the shoppers and straight through the floating holographic signs until she walked up to what appeared to be a single display window sandwiched between two stores.
The narrow window had just space for one, attractive, lifelike mannequin about Amy's age. We'd walked past several similar windows with similar mannequins before stopping at this one. Now I got to take a closer look.
The figure was lit well by floods at both the top and bottom of the window giving a perfect view. There was no manufacturer identification obvious so I had no idea what was being sold, or by whom. Looking closer I saw a card standing up at the mannequin's petite feet that read "Lindsey--age 16". As I looked closer I realized that the mannequin wasn't just attractive--she was gorgeous. She symbolized a young woman right on the verge of adulthood.
If Lindsey was sixteen, she must have just turned it this morning. She stood about five-feet-three wearing what even I could see were economical strappy heels that added a couple more inches to her height. Long golden waves of honey blonde hair with touches of brown framed a face that could only be called ideal, although in this age an ideal face was little more than an afternoon visit to the local NewYou parlor.
But this Lindsey had an advantage over a parlor makeover. Her lightly shadowed eyes were mismatched hazel and brown. They gave her that single imperfection that makes true beauty happen. Her face had natural high cheekbones with an unaffected blush that simply could not be improved on. Her lips were flawlessly outlined and pursed slightly, as though waiting to speak her first words--or receive her first kiss.
She wore a two-piece outfit, also economical. A simple, beige top matching up well with the darker pleated, knee-length skirt. She didn't need fancy clothes to look so appealing. She made the clothes honored instead.
Her light tan with barely visible freckles said she enjoyed the outdoors. The loose clothing hid any details of her body, although you could see enough of her curves to know there was a complete woman inside them. Her smooth, exposed lower legs promised much more to come as they coyly ducked up into the hem of her skirt.
The last thing I noticed was her stance. She had her weight shifted slightly forward with one knee pushed out just enough to compensate for the heels she wore. Add this to the straight forward gaze of her clear unblinking eyes and she was ready to take her first breath and step into your arms the next second.
It seemed that mannequins had improved a great deal in this age. I felt a sudden empathy for her, frozen in time as I had so recently been. The only other thing I noticed was a small box hanging around her neck on a cheap, plastic strap.
Amy wasn't giving me much time to admire the young woman, however, as she dug through in her purse. As with any woman's purse, it took her a while to find what she wanted.
When she finally found it she stepped up to a dark panel next to the window and stuck in her payment card into a slot. In a moment an amount flashed and she touched her thumb to the accept sensor.
Next a "coin slot" started flashing adjacent to there she'd inserted her card. Amy muttered something in frustration and dug through her purse again. It took her long enough to find what must have been at the very bottom of it. But I heard triumph in her voice as she finally pulled out a shiny quarter-sized disk with a tiny hole in the middle and inserted it.
Once the coin was inserted the window went black. Not just that the lights went off, but the glass itself seemed to turn opaque. Amy must have expected this and just stood there waiting impatiently. I did the same without knowing what to expect. It was only a couple minutes before the window suddenly rotated open and out stepped Lindsey.
I admit I was too astonished for words. Fortunately I didn't need any.
As Lindsey stepped forward from her holding cell she looked around and immediately spotted Amy.
"Amy," she squealed like any young woman seeing a long lost friend and running over to give her a hug. "How wonderful to see you again."
Amy accepted this attention for a few seconds before breaking the embrace and stepping back. Lindsey immediately released her and stood where she was.
"Lindsey," Amy said in a far more curt voice than I thought was necessary as she reached out and fingered the small box around Lindsey's neck, "This is Steve," nodding at me. "He's your new owner."
Lindsey immediately turned to me. Quickly judging my age and situation as different from Amy whom she already seemed to know, Lindsey bowed her head slightly and formally stuck out her hand. Somehow managing to look both bashful and bold at the same time she said in a mock serious tone, "Hello, Steve. I'm Lindsey, and I'm very pleased to meet you."
I took the offered hand, which felt warm, soft, and strong at the same time, while replying, "Likewise, I'm sure."
Neither of us seemed to know what to say next. Amy broke awkwardness with an abrupt, "Let's go." I guess the magic of my arrival has completely worn off with her.
Embarrassingly, Lindsey looped her arm through mine as we threaded our way back through the light morning crowd. Fortunately no one else seemed to be taking notice.
I looked behind once as we were leaving. The window was brightly lit again, with a new nametag and a cute redhead standing where Lindsey had been.
Lindsey is a gynoid--or as they say in this age, a fembot. A robot built to emulate a woman--or in this case, a sixteen-year-old teenager who might, or might not, quite be a woman yet. In the criteria I'd specified for when I wanted to be awakened, gynoids were an optional item. I wasn't sure if they would be possible any time soon. And even if they were, would they actually be manufactured and sold in any affordable quantities. Not only are they common. In Lindsey's case, they're cheap!
I already knew about fembots--and the corresponding m-'bots--from my first day here. However I had yet to meet any myself. Correction, I had yet to meet any that I recognized as such. Sneaking glances at Lindsey as it--she--walked beside me I realized I could be surrounded by fembots and never have know it. I never expected them to be that convincing.
I tried asking Amy about how much she'd spent and what I owed her for this favor, but she just put me off with, "It's not enough to worry about." Perhaps the cost of buying back some of her freedom from her "duties" was worth whatever it cost.
So while I found it hard to believe that this hadn't been a major purchase along the lines of an automobile, I had to accept the evidence that Amy had paid for this herself--and wasn't worried about what it had cost her. She treated the purchase the way a young woman of my era--make that my former era--would have felt about buying a music CD.