The Adventures of Robohooker (5 page)

“But that would mean you require a second gentleman for you to perform with.”

“It’s not fucking he likes to watch.”

“Not fucking? But that is the very basis of being a hooker. Please explain.”

“Better to show you, I think. As long as Bill doesn’t mind.”

As we walked down
stairs
to the reception hall I was extremely curious as to Mr Collins’ needs. “Does he like to watch you masturbate? Is that it? I have knowledge of this fetish. Or lesbian action? I am programmed for that and would be pleased to participate if required.”

“No, honey, none of those. Just wait and see.”

We joined Mr Collins at the small bar at one end of the lounge. He was a grey-haired, distinguished looking man, somewhat in the mould of the 20
th
Century
film actor, Cary Grant, though this gentleman was black.
  This was a desirable type my information banks told me and I wondered why he required to pay for sexual favours if women thought him so worthy. I decided to enquire of Fifi later as, at the moment, she was explaining my presence to our client.

“Andi’s my apprentice, Bill, and I want her to learn everything I do so, if you’ve no objection, I’d like her to sit in on this one.”

“Certainly, certainly,” the big man boomed, “the more the merrier.”

He asked me what I wished to drink and remembering Fifi’s admonition about her girls imbibing alcohol I looked to her for guidance.

“Booze doesn’t affect you, does it, Andi?”

“No.”

“But you can drink?”

“Oh yes, it is stored in a bladder and I void
the fluid
at an appropriate time.”

Bill Collins looked at me curiously as I said this but I did not explain
,
as I was unsure if Fifi wanted to reveal my Robohooker standing to him. Nevertheless I was fairly sure that he would wonder at my strange speech patterns so I said, “I am from
Turkmenistan
, Mr Collins, and my English, she is not good yet.”

“Oh, give her a Scotch with water,” Fifi said.

Bill ordered this from the barmaid, who was also the receptionist, Mrs Harris, but did not enquire of Fifi what she desired, but ordered her a large glass of beer.

I had been programmed to drink like a lady, with genteel sips, but Fifi sank the beer as if she was dying of thirst, upon which Bill immediately ordered her another. As we drank we conducted the social procedure of chatting.

“What part of
Turkmenistan
you from, kid?” Bill asked.

I had thought that my choice of
Turkmenistan
as a homeland would be sufficient
ly remote to deflect enquiry from
Bill
but it seemed
he had some oil holdings there. This was unfortunate as my geographical knowledge of the area was scant.

“The north,” I replied.

“Uh, my wells are all in the west. Lovely country, I hear, though I’ve never been there.”

Fifi sensed that I might need rescuing from this conversation, so she said, “Haven’t seen you for a while, Bill.”

“Been in
Africa
searching for my ancestors.
I’m descended from peasant farmers, thank God.
Have another beer.”

As her third glass was presented to her I cast a worried glance towards my tutor.

“It’s okay, it’s low alcohol, Andi,” Fifi explained. “If I drank the amount Bill expects me to of normal strength I’d be flat on my back.”

This resolved one idea which had occurred to me, that
Bill wished to get Fifi inebriated. But Fifi had said that he only liked to watch, so perhaps pleasure could be derived from watching another person get drunk. Human
s
seemed to be able to become aroused by just about anything, so it was a possibility.

After her fourth beer Fifi started squirming on her bar stool and looking uncomfortable. “I think I’m ready, Bill,” she said to her client.

“Hell no, have another beer.”

Another ale was produced and Fifi drank it but with noticeably less enthusiasm than earlier. When she finally finished this one she again announced that she was ready, though I still had no idea what for, but again Bill forced another beer on her.  By this time she was crossing her legs desperately and it was obvious that her bladder was bursting.

Half way through her sixth glass she slammed it down and muttered, “Enough, I gotta go.”

She jumped off the bar stool and sped towards the ladies toilet, waving to me to follow her.  I knew that it was common practice for human women to visit the lavatory together, so I did not demur in obeying her. What I did not expect was that Bill too would trail after me.

In the toilet Fifi entered one of the cubicles but left the door open. She pulled up her skirt, wriggled down her panties and sat on the pan as Bill elbowed me aside so that he would be directly in front of her.

“Wait for it,” he shouted, unzipping his pants and pulling out his penis which, though erect, was not of a noteworthy length. He stroked it a few times, his gaze never leaving Fifi’s crotch as she
stroked aside her pubic hair and
parted the lips of her pussy.

“Okay!” he shouted finally and Fifi allowed her floodgates to open, causing a fountain of urine to explode from her urethra.

“Thar she blows!” Bill shouted, stroking vigorously at his cock.

The first urgent spurt over, Fifi now began peeing in a more genteel fashion,
a languid stream of seemingly never-ending piss. Every time she dribbled to a halt, Bill’s flushed face would utter “More! More!” and Fifi would strain to manage another few drops. Finally Bill groaned and his emission shot from the head of his penis into the wad of toilet paper that Fifi handed him. He wiped his cock clean and returned his cock to his pants before thanking Fifi for her services and departing.

“Is that what he wished to watch, a woman performing a basic human requirement?”

“Gets him off and he pays fifteen hundred dollars for it
,” Fifi said as she readjusted her clothing. “Now, we got to rush, or we’ll be late getting you back to the plant for your tune up.”

Humans did indeed become aroused by the strangest things, but even I was surprised when, as she drove me back to International Robotics, Fifi informed me that Bill liked to treat himself on his birthd
ay by actually drinking her pee, though only once it was chilled and served with a slice of lemon.

Over the next few weeks I witnessed many more sexual encounters in the
Pleasure
Palace
and also spent ti
me sitting and chatting with my fellow
whores
though they were wary of me
, my electronic brain a sponge for information about what my future career would entail. The ways of humans were indeed strange. One would have imagined that it would be the unloved and lonely who sought out sex which they had to pay for, but it seemed that many of the clients were there because their partner refused to provide a specific sexual service, or even to include their partner in their sexual shenanigans. 
Thus Fluffy Furball had only
ever had sex with Sonny Kingsley
when his wife, Rhonda, had been present and participated. They indulged in a form of role-play where Sonny would begin making love to Fluffy, only to be ‘caught’ by Rhonda, who would be so aroused by the sight that she would insist on joining in. It was a minor fetish but allowed Fluffy to charge them double as there were two of them playing.

Eventually, came the day, when Fifi told me I was ready to offer my body for sale in the tradition of hookers throughout the centuries. She had taught me all that she could and I was ready to give my body to others (for a reasonable price). She had several strong arguments with Professor Jim Frankenstone about what I should charge, but refused outright to follow his company’s belief that I should be a mass market product.

“You can sell her pussy for ten cents for all I care,” she screeched at one point, “once there are thousands of her available, but right now there’s only one and it’s madness to give it away
.  You’re in this for the long haul, Jimmy boy, but I only get one crack at it, till I get her perfected for you, so I’m pricing her premium, cause guys will pay through the nose for something special. And right now boning a Robohooker is something special.”

As things worked out I was so special that the Board of Directors of the International Robotics Corporation, under advisement from their Advertising & Marketing Department, decided to maximise the publicity they would get from the launch of the world’s first Robohooker by offering my virginity as a lottery prize. Fifi, still determined to twist the knife into Jim Frankenstone, revealed that I was, technically, no longer a virgin as I had been boned by the Professor.  Frankenstone protested that he had not ejaculated inside me, basing his defence on the ‘Clinton-didn’t inhale’ precedent
, but the Board refused to accept this, saying that penetration was enough to disqualify me from promoting myself as still a maiden.  Frankenstone thought he could save his skin by fitting me with a brand new, unused, vagina but, though this cleared me to be a lottery prize, as advertised, it did not rescue the Professor from his fate. He ended his career in charge of the house-training division of the Robodog programme.

Fifi wasn’t happy with the lottery idea as it would mean that practically anybody could win me for only a dollar.  She had always prided herself that her girls were the elite among the hooker community and she thought a lottery cheapened and demeaned me.  But I was the property of the I.R.C. and they wanted the world to know that they would soon be supplying artificial pussy to anybody that could afford it.
To that end I was dressed up to the nines and made up by experts before being extensively photographed in a variety of provocative poses to publicise the lottery and the luscious prize, me.

Of course all this publicity brought the media to the doors of the I.R.C. all demanding to see this marvel and hopefully meet her and interview her
. This made the Directors very nervous as though they were convinced of my sexual abilities as I’d been trained by Fifi, they were still unsure as to my social skills. Before they would allow me to be interviewed by TV, radio and the like they insisted on me appearing before them for a casual ‘chat’ to ensure that I would not embarrass them or their company by some faux pas.

I was therefore ordered to appear before them in the Corporation’s Board Room for their inspection and approval.
Fifi was quite happy with this as she assumed company directors would be my natural clients once I fully entered the profession and it would do me no harm to see them outside of a sexual scenario.

There were seven of them, five men and two women, and they all stared at me silently as I entered the room.

“Jeeze,” one of them uttered eventually, “She is so lifelike.”

“And beautiful too.”

They all nodded in agreement and the Chairman said, “Take a seat, Ms Allure,” and waved me to the only spare chair at the table.

“Are you nervous, dear?” one of the ladies asked.

“The feelings I have may be regarded as nervousness. I am entering a situation I have not experienced before and that stimulates certain pathways in my neural banks.”

“Well, there’s no need to be,” the lady continued. “You cannot do anything wrong here.  If you malfunction in any way it will be the responsibility of those who built you and they will be held to account, but you will be innocent.”

“That is not strictly true, ma’am. It would be impossible to program for all eventualities and I am therefore programmed to adapt. That is solely my prerogative and I should be held liable.”

“Damn, she’s giv
ing an argument. And a good one,
”
one of the men gasped.

“Who are you?” the Chairman asked in a very businesslike fashion.

“Andi Allure, sir.”

“And what are you?”

“I am a Robohooker.”

“What will be your primary function?”

“To provide my clients with sexual pleasure.”

“Who do you belong to?”

“The International Robotics Corporation.”

“I wish to buy you. How much do you cost.”

“My services will be available at rates still to be set.”

“No, I want to buy you outright. How much?”

“I am not for sale. Only my sexual services can be bought for a limited period of time. I can thus be hired but at all times remain the property of the International Robotics Corporation.”

“She’s not falling for that one, Bob,” the other lady said and they all laughed.

“Do you follow Asimov’s Three laws of Robotics?” another man asked.

“They are fiction,” I replied.

“So, you are capable of harming a human being?”