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Abandoned Property
by D.B. Story

Category: Erotica/Erotic Romance/Science Fiction
Description: "Abandoned Property" is a story of opportunity meeting preparation, otherwise known as luck, as a young man visiting paradise finds a way to bring it all back with him in the form of an exotic fembot. (Note to buyers: This story is also contained in the anthology: The Fembot Chronicles--Volume 2, 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: September 2010

eBookeBook

Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [71 KB]
Words: 14597
Reading time: 41-58 min.


There is one unwritten rule that always exists at every five-star hotel and restaurant: There will never be a problem for the customer. Count on it.

I'd arrived early, which I like to do because sometimes you can get a better room by having the first choice of the day and asking to switch if the first one they give you isn't up to par. I wasted no time sightseeing; instead I got myself to the hotel's reception area. At the front desk I gave them my reservation information, and then with a pleasant smile let on how tired I was and how nice a shower would be--yet that I would wait for a better room if that could possibly be arranged. I also dropped how lucky I'd been to catch the early flight for once.

I could tell that this front desk clerk was in a quandary. It was well before their stated check-in time, meaning that some guests departing for this evening's flight wouldn't have left their rooms yet, but I was here now. I finally asked her gently what the situation was.

She told me they weren't fully booked for tonight and that I could have one of their very best rooms. However, it hadn't been cleaned yet and wouldn't be for at least another three hours. A less desirable room could be had right now.

I have no trouble making up my mind in these situations. I told her I'd really like the nice room--and if I could just drop my bags off there now, I would be more than happy to stay out of the way until they could have it cleaned properly. I did my best acting job of convincing her that this was such a small inconvenience for me to bear for the sake of getting a more desirable room that I would never hold it against them for not already having it prepared for my arrival.

It only took her a moment to realize that this would really make me much happier than any alternative, which was the whole point, and she gave me the keys. I left happy that I'd most likely scored a much finer room for the week than they would have normally given me. And that such a hotel as fine as this one would never ask a guest to pick up and move once they'd settled in. It was a small price to pay.

I like to carry my own bags. It's just a quirk of mine, like not liking to give my car over to valet parking attendants. Rental cars they can have, but not my own. I scooped up my bags before one of the staff could grab them--never travel with more than you can carry, for at some point in your journey you will certainly need to--and asked directions to the room. Of course no one was going to take the bags out of my hands so she pointed the way and I followed the room number signs right to my door.

Already I was appreciating how beautiful this resort was, beyond what the brochure had shown. It consisted of a series of two-story buildings connected by paths on the ground and open second-story walkways to the upper floor rooms, all weaving through a tropical jungle of plants, flowers, and birds amid the welcome change of tropical humidity. I loved every moment of it as I wandered along the bridges to my suite.

Stepping inside, my first impression of the room was that it was big--real big. This was going to be great! Obviously the cleaning staff hadn't gotten to it, but I didn't care. I walked through the main room to the bedroom and dropped my stuff at the foot of the big bed under the ceiling fan. Then I explored the immense bathroom off of it. I could have held a party in the whirlpool tub alone. The bathroom had windows that open up on the same view as the bedroom balcony I passed. A quick look at the sky told me I'd be watching sunsets from here over the ocean for the next week, and it doesn't get any better than that. I went back out to explore the bar and main living area that I'd only peripherally noticed on the way in, when I saw her.

She was absolutely stunning. The only reason I'd missed her on the way in was that she'd been blocked from view by the door when I entered. With my hands full I had just gone straight ahead to the bedroom--total tunnel vision that I have when I travel alone.

"Hello," I said instinctively, fearing I'd entered an occupied room. "The front desk assured me that this room was vacant," I added, worried now that I might be about to lose this room to its previous tenant before I really had it. This had happened before when I'd pushed the envelope a little too hard. But she didn't move or otherwise react to my presence.

I quickly realized she was frozen in place. Either a room sculpture, which would be fitting for a room like this in a resort like this, or a deactivated 'bot.

I took an extra minute to ensure that she really wasn't responsive before finally going over to her. I'd already decided she must be a 'bot. I tried waiving my hands in front of her eyes, which didn't react, and then touching her bare arm which was soft, yet cool, telling me she had been deactivated for at least several hours.

As I looked more closely at her I had to admit she was the most exotic fembot I'd ever seen, and I've been fortunate enough to have seen a few up close. Either this resort included an additional amenity beyond what was already mentioned in their brochures, or she'd been left here by the previous occupant. Neither of these seemed likely, but I couldn't think of any better explanation. Dressed as she was, I was certain that she wasn't some member of a robotic cleaning staff.

She looked like she had stepped right off one of those high-class fashion advertisements you see in Paris on big posters everywhere. At first glance she appeared tall, although her tiny black stiletto heels and slim bare legs, along with a trim figure, contributed greatly to that impression. Her striking face had a gaunt model's appearance that takes your breath away, with the mandatory high cheekbones and European fashion makeup. Actually she looked gaunt overall in that almost-starving model sense. The kind of look that isn't healthy for a woman but would fit a high-class--and very costly--fembot. Expensive because it takes much more skill to fit everything necessary into a smaller body overall. Small sleek gadgets are always the most expensive and desirable ones to have and show off with.

Her rich dark hair was just long enough to frame her face, curling in at the bottom to just reach her long pale neck. It complemented her large dark eyes perfectly. Her exposed arms were as slender as her legs, but still clearly a woman's. She wore a sleeveless simple black dress that hugged her tightly all the way down to ending a scant six inches below her thighs, leaving nearly all of her legs to be enjoyed. Although it showed little more than her almost bare shoulders where thin straps held it up, it somehow made her seem even less dressed than removing it entirely would have managed.

Her legs were smooth and gave a look that other women wear nylons to achieve. I admired her stance in those heels that resulted in a ruler straight line up the back of one leg from heel to hem that few women can manage. Her pose was equally amazing.

Despite the straightness of one leg, she bent forward at the waist, with the other foot a half-step in front of the first, knee bent, as if she was reaching down to pick something up off the floor and had to compensate for the extra height of her heels. This resulted in her showing off those long legs to maximum advantage. Her eyes were downcast and lips parted, as if in the middle of a word when she paused in this position. It was that stance that had first had me thinking she had to be a sculpture. She could not have possibly posed in a more appealing way--nor could any work of art been more perfect.

In addition to the dress and fashionably black heels, the only other item adorning her was a tiny, rectangular, shiny black locket around her neck with a couple of diamonds on its face, held in place by a slender gold chain. This hung just free of her neck while she remained bent over and was the flawless proof of the truth that less is more when it comes to jewelry on exceptional women. I looked at it closely and saw the name "Elle" spelled out in tiny gold script.

This left me in a quandary about what to do with her. She was obviously a rich man's toy--far beyond what I could ever afford. It was possible the hotel provides sexual services when requested, and if so undoubtedly at a very steep additional fee. Or she belonged to someone else and this was just a screw up on the front desk's part. Best to tread carefully here lest I find myself facing more expenses or trouble than I could really afford.

I spent several minutes trying to decide what to do before I finally just punted. I'd leave the room now as I had promised the front desk so that it could be cleaned properly. Go down and lie on the beach until lunch. If Elle were still in my room when I returned after the cleaners had finished, then I'd look for her activation control and take my chances. I had become a convert to the principal of it's easier to beg forgiveness afterwards than ask permission first--at least as long as I could create a plausible story that I really did think she was part of the resort's amenities.

Before I left, however, I did take time to shoot a couple of pictures of her and afterwards run my hands over her body. She wouldn't mind, and at least I wouldn't miss out entirely on that opportunity. She was so slender that I could almost feel her ribs through the thin black dress. The way her arms reached forward made it hard to reach her breasts, except to notice with the tight dress that that they obviously weren't very large. I started to pull the neckline away so that I could look down her dress, but just then there was a loud bump in the hallway. I confess that I jumped about a foot and was convinced that it had to be the cleaning crew's cart--or even worse, Elle's owner returning. Either way, someone could be coming through that door any second now. Best not to get caught in such a compromising position. I headed for the door while trying to calm my racing heart.

Turned out it was the cleaning crew in the room next door. That was enough to chase me out of there for now, all the while trying to feign a nonchalance I certainly didn't feel. I did take one last look back at Elle, just to keep the memory of her in case I never saw her again. In those few moments she had totally changed my view of what was beautiful in a fembot--provided that I would ever own one, which didn't seem likely any time soon.

I spent the rest of the morning exploring the resort, which is a favorite activity of mine every time I travel. I kept wanting to go back to the room and see what had happened, and I kept telling myself I'd only get in trouble if I went back too soon. Since I hadn't reported this to the front desk they might think I was hiding something from them, so I wanted to give them every opportunity to discover and deal with "their mistake" themselves.

I did stop by the concierge and get copies of all the resort literature they had available. None of it mentioned supplying a fembot for guest use during their stay. I almost asked them outright, but wisely didn't.

I also found out that this island was bigger than I had expected. There's even a native town down on the other end. The concierge told me how to catch le truck for local transportation when I wanted to go. Frankly I found this to be a lot more intriguing than just a resort on a private island. My playground had just been substantially enlarged as far as I was concerned.

I finally decided I would go back to the room at two o'clock. Setting such a firm deadline was my way to putting the issue to rest for the moment. I went into the restaurant for lunch just after one o'clock, which was several hours past my normal lunchtime given the time zones I'd crossed getting here.

One thing about this first day, when the travel is west as well as south in the winter, is that the day is seemingly endless--which is exactly the way I wanted it to be. Let it never end. And while I praised the leisurely service since I still had an hour to kill, I spent most of it looking at my watch while willing it to run faster.

There were still fifteen minutes to go on my self-imposed deadline when I left the restaurant. At that point I finally said to heck with it and made a beeline for the room.

When I entered it seemed to take an eternity to verify that the living area ahead of me was obviously cleaned up, and make my way around the door to see that Elle was still standing right where I'd left her.

Not being one to take unnecessary chances, I toured every corner of my suite to ensure that housekeeping had completely done their job--they had--not left anyone behind in my suite--they hadn't--and that I shouldn't expect them to be returning for any unfinished business--like removing a 'bot that shouldn't be here.

I then hung out the SVP Ne Derangez Pas sign on the outside door handle, double bolted the door from the inside, and went back to inspect my exceptional temporary fortune.


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