Message-ID: <43510asstr$1058875806@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Message-ID: <007201c34fe7$1075c860$c701a8c0@orovly01.az.comcast.net> From: "DB_Story" MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1165 X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Mon, 21 Jul 2003 17:20:31 -0700 Subject: {ASSM} (Repost) "Three Stikes Against Her" {DB_Story} (M/Fembot, F/Fembot, M-bot/Fembot, rom, dom) Date: Tue, 22 Jul 2003 08:10:06 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: hecate, IceAltar THREE STRIKES AGAINST HER By DB ( DB_Story@att.net / http://home.att.net/files/Authors/db_story/www/ ) Copyrightc 2001-2003 by DB. ASSM/ASFR (M/Fembot, F/Fembot, M-bot/Fembot, rom, dom, ScFi, ASFR) (This story contains Constitutionally protected material intended for adults over 18 years of age in the United States of America, and whatever passes for adult status in other countries. If you are under legal age, acting under legal age, not allowed to view such material in your area, or easily offended, please do not continue. This is not for you. (The only rights granted are to view this story. You are not allowed to reproduce, post, or otherwise redistribute this story without permission, except for non-profit Usenet archiving sites. (To purchase for publication, place on your web-site devoted to this style of fiction, or for permission to link to my posted material, please contact me first at the above email. (A special thanks to Gorgo for his excellent and much appreciated proofreading.) - - - (Now) Sharon watched the man make his way into the showroom. Her position as receptionist made her the first point of contact for customers, of which there weren't enough right now for her needs. One would think with the current business downturn that selling reconditioned robots would be booming, but there was a stigma that remained regardless of economic conditions: Buying a used robot is buying someone else's problems. Even though this was a factory showroom run by the original manufacturer, most people wanted a new 'bot if they got one at all. Sharon studied the latest prospect as he looked around before spotting her at her desk. Not too young. Those didn't have money or stability. Not too old either. The older ones would be more fixed in their definitions of where a 'bot would fit into their life, and tended to be much more controlling of their purchases. Late twenties, she guessed. This might be the one she needed. She'd know for sure after she ran some checks on him. She shifted her position slightly to appear as attractive as possible and waited for him to come over. - - - Greg walked into the used robot showroom with a bit of apprehension in his stride. At age 28 he had finally made the decision to add a 'bot to his life. This was not as simple as it sounded. Robots were still quite expensive, even used ones. His credit was marginal enough as it was, but he had wanted a robot of his own ever since he was thirteen when a beautiful, kind, older lady (who actually looked about 23 years old) had helped him out of a jam and turned out to be a robot herself. Even then the robots had been so good that you could barely tell them from the people they were built to imitate. Since then they had gotten much better at acting like people. For all his adult life, Greg had found himself awkward and never very successful with women. It could be different with a 'bot. Greg knew a good robot could be many things, including companion and lover. He'd saved his money carefully for years without admitting that this is why he was saving it. But his most recent breakup had finally brought him to admit that robots probably made better people than people did. And that he'd rather have a robot programmed to love him than yet another girlfriend who loved herself and his wallet. The showroom was not what Greg had expected. He thought there would be robots standing on display in niches or pedestals waiting to be sold. Instead there were a few large pictures, an expanse of empty carpet, and a reception desk. Rather than just be able to look around on his own it seemed he'd have to deal with people first who probably would require him to prove he could buy a 'bot before he could even see one. That only made it harder. But Greg was determined. He marched up to the desk and presented himself to the receptionist. - - - Sharon waited patiently. Robots were always shown in private rooms, which meant every customer had to go through her. She liked it that way. Her job was to determine if the customer was serious. Then, using available profile information (not all of it public - RobTronics paid a lot of money to get access to some of the best private personal databases), try to match the customer with what he or she wanted before they got bored and left. Too often the customer him/herself didn't know what they really wanted. What RobTronics didn't realize is that Sharon had an agenda of her own. Sharon greeted Greg politely as he arrived at her desk. She engaged him in polite small talk with him until she could graciously ask him for a thumbprint. This was SOP. - - - Greg arrived at the desk to find that the woman behind it was actually quite beautiful, in an older sort of way. She appeared three or four years older than Greg himself, with long wavy brown hair and a very pretty face. He couldn't see much more about her since she was sitting behind a high desk, except that she seemed to have a very ample chest under her white blouse. For a moment he wished she was a robot and he could just buy her right here, take her home, and be done with the whole experience. Buying a robot should be a fun experience. But somehow the stress of the amount of money involved and the consequences of making a wrong choice seemed to wring any joy out of the ordeal. But even if she was a 'bot, this woman was not the ideal image of the robot girl that Greg had in mind. Greg had some very fixed ideas about what robots are. A couple of the men's clubs he frequented had a number of entertainer models, all of whom appeared to be in the age range of eighteen to twenty-one. They moved gracefully while on stage. Even sitting close-up at his table talking (and collecting tips for their time), they had such a natural lack of concern over their nudity that they were a joy just to be around. Every one was bright, interesting, interested in him, could carry on a great conversation, or perform a memorably erotic lap dance on a moment's notice. He figured all robots were like that, since those were the only ones he saw or interacted with. And while you could rent the ones at the clubs for private performances after-hours, Greg quickly had realized that was the fast track to the poorhouse. Better to buy your own someday and have her always there for you. But the lady at the desk was beautiful too. With her friendly smile (and apparently some artful makeup), she made Greg feel better about coming in here. - - - "May I help you?" she asked in a warm voice. "I'd like to buy a robot," he replied. "Did you have a particular model in mind?" "No. I mean, I don't know what models you actually have. I was hoping to look at what is available." "We can do that. I presume you are looking for a fembot." "Uh, yes. Of course." "And you want her for...?" "Uh, companionship. Someone to talk to. A friend." "Yes," Sharon replied, suppressing a smile. No man or woman ever said up front that they wanted a robot for sex simply because robots make such excellent lovers. If pushed, a customer could come up with a hundred reasons that they were buying a robot to help out with tasks in their life, but sex would never be any of them. Yet over 93% of all robots purchased were used for sex within their first week of delivery. Fortunately, standard robotic programming usually made sex a very pleasurable activity for both the person and the robot. "All our models excel in companionship and conversation, among many other abilities. Did you have any specifics in mind?" Sharon realized that Greg had not taken his eyes off her since he had started talking, so she shifted a bit more to show him what she had. Sharon felt she could compete with any entertainment 'bot on the market. "Specifics? Like what?" "Height. Age range. Additional special talents." "Oh, I see. I think I'd like one of the type I see at the clubs. They seem very nice." Sharon suppressed a frown at this. Too many first-time shoppers seemed to picture every robot as a skinny, nude eighteen-year- old girl with big boobs who gave the impression that she'd be in your pants in a trice if the club management would only turn their backs for a millisecond. And while those models remained popular in the clubs, they were actually rather simple units that just didn't work out well in the real world. Everyone knew them for what they were, and they made the wrong impression with just about everyone you showed them off to afterward. Most of their lives in the outside world consisted of being shut in the bedroom waiting for their owner to come back and want to be entertained. The lucky ones got work in the clubs. It least they got to meet and interact with a lot of people each night. But the customer is always right. Without customers, there is no business. So this one would just have to learn, like all the others, that at some point in your life you have to grow up. Maybe he'd get it right the first time. "We have several available entertainer models. If you can give me your thumbprint for identification purposes, I can direct you to a private viewing room where you can meet them." That sounded pretty good to Greg. He couldn't help but admire though how nice the receptionist was as she reached out and gently guided his hand to the touch pad on her desk. Then she looked at her screen for a moment before directing him to go down the hall to room "D". "Just get comfortable in there. The first unit will be along shortly." As Greg walked to the designated room he thought again about why robots are better than people. First, robots are always beautiful. Nobody builds an ugly robot. And they will stay beautiful for as long as they are properly maintained. Next, they exist to obey your every wish. That would be a nice change from the real world. Even their so-called self-will (the academics still argue if a robot has yet shown true self-will) extensions exist to help them better follow your directives. Robots never have headaches, bad days, or the wrong time of the month. Instead, they always show an even, willing temperament. You'd never catch a robot crying just because you'd said something to upset her. Add to it that as lovers, foreplay is totally optional. A Fembot can be ready for her lover faster than he can unzip his pants. And their computer memories allow them to be excellent secretaries and private assistants - making them useful between sexual encounters. They can even provide personal protection functions when equipped with the right, additional programming. In fact, except for the minor detail that you aren't going to start a family with your robot lover, it's pretty hard to beat having a robot in your life. And lastly, Greg thought to himself, your robot isn't going to leave you for someone else. They are very simple beings whose only interest is in making their owner happy. As was pointed out earlier, Greg had a lot to learn. But he didn't know any of this yet when he entered the viewing room. The door shut softly behind him with a definite click that stated in this room you have the privacy to really explore and get acquainted with your potential new purchase sans interruptions. Greg looked around the room. Soft, indirect lighting on neutral gray walls. Much thicker carpeting underfoot than in the lobby. Soft background music. A couch along one wall and a large, comfortable armchair in the middle of the room facing another door in the back wall. Refreshments on a table next to the big chair. It seemed obvious that the expected behavior was to sit in the chair and wait for something to happen, so Greg did exactly that. After five long minutes waiting however, Greg was wondering if he'd been forgotten. He was very excited about the prospect have actually having one of those lovely creatures alone with him in private for once, but the wait was getting to him. Then the door in front of him opened and in came - the receptionist from the front desk! Now he could see just about all of her, and he did mean all. She was wearing only a large white bra, thin black panties, and very elegant black heels with thin straps that barely obscured her feet. As she presented herself by walking back and forth in front of him a couple times, he could finally see her smooth, shapely legs. Her figure was more filled out more than those thin, young entertainers in the clubs, but only in all the right places. As she paraded some more in front of him without saying a word, he knew she stood nearly as tall as he was, which was also so different from the predominantly short ones in the clubs. He felt his body already responding to the idea that this fully grown woman before him was one very sexy creature. After a final pirouette, she stopped and stood right in front of him, legs aggressively apart. Then she reached behind her back, and with a single motion unhooked and whipped off her bra. Her breasts were very large, yet hung perfectly on her chest. Her nipples were prominent and fully erect. She saw his eyes fixed on them (as she had expected, or hoped for at least), so she gave her torso a small shake causing them to sway gently from side to side and making it clear that they would be fully warm and soft to the touch. Her waist and hips balanced out her figure as much as they could, but her designer must have really loved giving her that chest. Undressed, it was by far her most prominent feature. - - - Sharon let Greg admire her for several minutes. The long wait for her arrival (she had to get another 'bot to cover at the front desk) was totally forgotten. She then leaned forward just a bit, seeming to teeter on her heels, and reached one hand up to gently cup a breast - being careful not to actually squeeze it. "My name is Sharon. We met out at the front desk. I am a robot myself and I saw you admiring me out there. I felt you should see me before looking at any other models, since I am also for sale, and am a better deal than most of the other fembots we have here at the moment." Then she added with a most inviting smile, "We can make love in here with complete privacy, if that is what you wish." Greg realized that the urgency in his pants had not gone away. If anything it was stronger still, and embarrassingly apparent. It was a far more prominent indication of his male sexual temperature than Sharon's very sexy nipples were of hers. Not trusting himself to speak coherently to this lovely creature at this moment, he just nodded. Sharon's smile grew even wider as she saw the nod. She started kneading her breast while pinching and tugging at its nipple. Then she said to Greg, "Why don't you remove my panties for me?" Greg almost sprung from the chair. Sharon took a half step backward to avoid collision with him. Then, as she continued to rub her breast, Greg easily slid the thin black fabric down her warm, smooth legs. Sharon delicately stepped out of them and reached over to expertly remove Greg's pants and boxers for him, despite how his now raging hard-on that threatened to catch on them. She then took his hand in her own and led him over to the couch. Lying down on it first she guided him on top of her. As he moved close, she guided his member straight in to her already very wet sex. Her soft touch directing his penis caused Greg some small spasms before he suddenly slid easily and fully into her. Sharon immediately started slowly moving her hips and stroking his back while Greg quickly started pumping her. She adjusted the pressure inside her vagina to firmly grip him, while still allowing him to move within her. And although she could have continued on like this for a very long time, having many orgasms along the way, Greg's eagerness soon overcame him. In only a couple minutes he shot his load into her and collapsed on her, drained from his own intense orgasm. As he lay across her lovely chest afterwards, all he could gasp out was, "That was wonderful!" Sharon kissed him for that, and then held him tightly against her until he was finally ready to get up. When he did, she got up with him and stood again before him - still naked except for her heels - as if this was the most natural thing in the world for her. When he turned to her, she smiled again and asked, "Now, do you want to see any of the other models?" Greg had half-dressed himself while Sharon put her bra back when they both sat back down on the couch to discuss purchase terms. Sharon said, "If you buy me there are some things you need to know." "And these things are?" "The first thing is that I will always make love to you if you rub my breasts. I will make love to you for other reasons as well, but this is an imperative programmed into to me that I cannot change." That led Greg to reach out towards her now semi-protected chest again. She gently intercepted his hand and looked at him gravely. "We can have sex together again right now if you are ready. But once you do touch me there I must do it unless my owner immediately countermands that directive. And it can only be countermanded for that occasion. So I ask that you only touch me in this way when you desire sex yourself. I will suffer greatly otherwise." That caused Greg to pull his hand back again. Sex, it appeared, was serious business to this 'bot. What Sharon wasn't telling Greg yet was that it was this very problem that had gotten her into her current trouble, and why she had to get out of this showroom as soon as possible. The problem went back to when Sharon had initially been returned back to RobTronics by her first owner. - - - (Then) Sharon's first owner was Jack: 34 years old, dashing, and quite successful. And still single. He'd purchased Sharon new as a personal assistant. As such, he wanted a 'bot that fit in with his office and lifestyle. Sharon was designed directly for him as an attractive 32-year-old woman just slightly shorter than Jack when she wore her heels. Her tight B-size breasts and more lush figure set her apart from the standard entertainment 'bots. She also had the most complex mind available. Jack soon bought all the additional software available for her as well so that she could assist him in all areas of his life. Sharon ran his office, presided over his large, previously disorganized house, and became his occasional lover. Jack had no trouble attracting women, but he had yet to meet the right one. Sharon's superb organizational mind had an excellent self-will quotient for any 'bot and she used it to be everything Jack needed without jealousy. The spent a lot of very nice, intimate time together when Jack was between girlfriends. He took her everywhere with him in his travels, which improved her education well beyond that which could be purchased or preprogrammed. She also gained an unusual degree of financial freedom for any 'bot from her association with Jack. Sharon's programming included everything about market trading fundamentals. Much of Jack's current fortune came from his acute market sense. His personal assistant needed to be able to work with him in this area. But Sharon quickly realized that her knowledge was woefully inadequate in understanding just how Jack was so successful. When she mentioned this to him finally, he started to explain to her each time just why he made the market moves he did. It proved a marvelous education that Sharon eagerly soaked up. One day, juggling an impossible number of market factors in her computer mind, she made a suggestion to Jack about a company he hadn't yet considered. He was surprised, yet pleased, for her to take this initiative. He checked it out himself and liked what he saw. He bought a block. Four weeks later it made a major up-move. Jack split the profits with Sharon. He told her she could buy anything she wanted with it, perhaps expecting she'd spend it on more of the fine clothes she enjoyed so much. Or even on some upgrades to her systems. She surprised him again however when she said she'd rather set up an investment account of her own. Jack agreed, after pointing out that he'd have to keep it in his name since legally she had no rights. This was not a problem, and it became her money to win or lose. Jack was honorable, and so well off he didn't need her money anyway. After that, they swapped stock analysis and tips daily, and both did quite nicely. Their different strategies complemented each other very well. Then Jack met "The Woman". It was surprising that they hadn't met earlier, given that they were both so successful in the same field. She was 38, slim, beautiful, and every bit as hard driving and successful as he was. And she wanted children. Their whirlwind courtship ran three months to engagement. Suddenly there was no place left for Sharon in Jack's world. Robots can't own themselves, or be freed. And there would be nothing for them to do if they were. Jack couldn't keep Sharon. (Well he could, but only in a very limited role since his new fianc,e Linda took over running all the details of their lives together and a fembot of any sort just didn't fit anymore). So Sharon went back to her manufacturer. She understood the situation completely. Jack said he'd protect her account and she could access it when she was out in the world again. They kissed fondly (and chastely) one last time, and Sharon left Jack's life. - - - (Now) Sharon's conversation with Greg had reached a natural, but rapidly becoming awkward, pause. She knew she had made an excellent impression on him, and was happy that her judgement to display herself first with him appeared vindicated. She had considered sending in a couple badly matched 'bots for him to consider first, so that she would show much better by comparison. But she felt he was so naive in the experience of actually choosing and purchasing a robot that he might have just gone for the first thing available in his price range. Some people (foolishly) think all 'bots must be created equal. Like buying a home, when selecting a companion one should view as many possibilities as one can before making such a serious decision. First-time buyers seldom realized that however, and Sharon didn't feel it was her job to educate them otherwise. She had her own agenda here and she needed Greg - or someone very much like him - soon. Sharon knew that she was rapidly approaching the make-or-break point with Greg where she must disclose her history of previous owners. She considered trying to engage him in sex again first. However, after the way he had pulled back after she had told him of her sensitive breasts, it seemed he wasn't ready yet for another round. - - - (Then) After returning from Jack, Sharon was now officially "used merchandise". Though she remained in excellent mechanical condition (due to having an expensive Full Maintenance program in place all her time with Jack), and her mind, programming, and real world experience made her far more capable than anything new rolling off the line, she had acquired a stigma. People, when they could afford it, didn't want to deal with a castoff. There was always the never spoken feeling that somehow this 'bot was defective if her previous owner had returned her. The fact that she had one of the best minds, all available software upgrades, and thousands of dollars in clothing and accessories (Jack had let her keep everything he'd bought for her) couldn't overcome the other fact that she'd been owned, programmed - used - by another person. The disclosure laws are strict and unambiguous in this regard. Sharon must disclose to any potential purchaser her complete ownership history. She was used merchandise, and would remain that unless she was both taken apart into her component pieces with every part individually reconditioned, and her mind wiped clean back to her original birthday. Fortunately (for Sharon) that level of legal reconditioning and required documentation was just expensive enough that she was more valuable on the used market as is. And there were enough people who could only afford a used model that the market did exist. But Sharon wasn't home free yet. Her clothes had been put in storage and a complete diagnostic verified her full functionality. But she was a specialty product. Older in apparent age, more capable, aimed at exactly at the niche she had landed in of companion and assistant to a successful thirtysomething. And those successful thirtysomethings always bought their 'bots new. At five feet nine inches she was almost too tall for many men. Marketing knew that men liked shorter women in heels. Men liked younger trophy women too, but it would have been expensive to change either her height or apparent age. So some drone in marketing changed what he could cost effectively justify (in his limited opinion) to make Sharon more marketable. Her hair was changed to a long, straight, virtually bleached blonde, and her breasts were blown out to DD cups. She also received programming to limit her apparent intelligence. Too smart tended to intimidate too many potential customers. Someone was smart enough to have most of her outfits altered to fit this new figure and Sharon arrived back at the showroom just in time to meet Richard. Richard's problem was that he was shy with women. Not just a little bit shy, but painfully, cripplingly, stuttering, making a fool of himself shy. He'd been in therapy over this for nearly four years. He needed more than this, but it was only that long ago that he could even face up to the idea of getting help. Spending all that money on therapy was probably why he could only consider buying a used 'bot. The 'bot became the option of choice because he could still barely even talk to a woman, let alone ask her out. His therapist (a woman, and the only one with whom he could actually hold a lucid conversation longer than three sentences) had finally decided that he should get a robot to interact with to help him learn how to be comfortable around females. She may have felt only a fembot could put up with him, but she hadn't said that. He arrived at the showroom with a prescription written by his psychologist, and the new Sharon best fit the bill. He took her home, arranged for the bulk of her possessions to be delivered, and started learning how to relate to a female. It was pretty much a disaster for both of them. Richard couldn't bring himself to look at Sharon when he talked to her. Calling it "talking" might have been putting an unreasonably favorable spin on their communication. Mumbling was more like it. It wasn't that he couldn't just look at her face. On the few occasions they went out together Sharon realized that while most men were now looking at her boobs, Richard couldn't even do that well. When he looked at her feet while talking to her it was a major step forward. In the mean time Sharon was trying everything she could do to make this relationship work. Richard was her new owner and she wanted to make him happy. But she was firmly locked into not appearing too smart or threatening. This limited her ability to meaningfully interact with him in return. In addition, she spent her first days relearning how to walk in heels. Her much larger chest had thrown off her fine balance and nobody back at the showroom had thought to give her new balance algorithms. Just another oversight by some stupid male. But the hardest thing was pleasing Richard. It wasn't that he couldn't be pleased. He just couldn't bring himself to ask for it. Sharon (who already knew she loved sex) tried to convince Richard to be sexual with her. She wore her skimpiest outfits for him. She touched him reassuringly at every opportunity, and would drop her clothes at the drop of a hat. She was a guaranteed sure thing for any man, yet Richard kept fumbling the ball. Finally the psychologist (who said that Richard's problem was that he was a kinesthetic - touch oriented - thinker and communicator) had Sharon sent back for some modifications. When she returned Sharon talked even less and touched even more than before. The biggest change however was that if Richard - or anyone - rubbed her breasts Sharon's sexual arousal was kicked into overdrive. She had to have sex there and now. Although they allowed her owner to countermand it for that occasion, it was made a highest imperative. Sharon had to learn for herself how to put her breasts carefully in the new bras they provided her. Her old ones were already too tight and wearing any of them now often triggered her sexual response at awkward moments. Even with this however their sex life barely improved. Richard absolutely knew all he had to do was touch her chest and she was his. Sometimes he could be bold and make his move (and it felt so VERY GOOD every time he did), but then he'd be afraid to touch her at all afterwards, lest he trigger her response again. So they limped along with each other until one day Richard met a mousy young woman with thick glasses at the grocery store over the cantaloupe display and found he could easily talk with her. She was a very quiet person who adored the attention from a member of the opposite sex which had pretty much bypassed her entirely until now. When she was finally cleaned up and made over by her friends for her first date with Richard, she turned out surprisingly attractive in an elfin sort of way. Richard was cured, head over heels in love, and Sharon was sent back with her second strike against her. - - - (Now) Sharon pondered how to give Greg the necessary legal disclosure. Although she had very little leeway legally, she would make the best of what was available to her. It wasn't either of her first two owners that concerned her. Any reasonable person would not likely hold those circumstances against her. The third one however might be different, depending on how open-minded Greg was. And while Sharon had been able to get a quick, yet surprisingly comprehensive, bio on Greg from his thumbprint (including that he was never married, never owned a robot before, and the state of his current bank account and credit cards), it wasn't complete enough to include all his personal biases. She knew though that she had to tell him now. It was mandated in her program. To delay any longer would be deception. Although she did possess the ability to deceive another person in some narrowly defined areas, this wasn't any of them. Sharon broke the now-awkward silence by reaching over and taking Greg's hand again while saying, "Before we go any further, I need to fully disclose my legal ownership history to you." Sharon proceeded to tell Greg about that history. Despite all personally identifiable details being left out, she accurately described the dates, duration, owner's general characteristics, and duties she performed for each of them. She spent extra effort on being clear about the circumstances of her returns. Although she was saving the best news about herself for last - that being her large amount of accessories and expensive software add-ons that were included - she could tell it wasn't going well. Greg made it through the first owner well. He held her hand tightly in return because he'd already known she was returned merchandise. She wouldn't have been here at all otherwise. The story of the second owner, and why she now had this figure (although not the blonde hair anymore), didn't seem to upset him much either. But when she started on her third owner, his face just fell and his hand went slack. Ouch! He knows more about robots than I had hoped, she thought to herself. Sharon could tell that she was losing Greg the longer she went on, but had to see it through now. By the time she was done, she knew her chances of escaping her fate here had been reduced greatly. He barely seemed to notice what should have been the good news she had saved until the end. - - - (Then) Needless to say, the company had not been happy to see Sharon back a second time so soon from Richard. Her second strike was now added to the record, and only made her that much harder to re-market. Her clothes and accessories were also returned and put back into storage. Sharon realized that while she had modeled and worn all her skimpiest outfits, most of her elegant gowns had never even been unpacked. Marketing didn't want to admit that they'd made any mistakes and didn't want to spend any more money on her. She was put back on display virtually unchanged. Surprisingly she sold again in under two weeks - to a woman. Lori had seen value in this particular 'bot where other shoppers had missed it. The 'bot's hair and boobs made her look like nothing more than an over-aged pleasure model. But Lori carefully read Sharon's specifications in the fine print. Lori was a careful shopper. She ran a small design business by herself and knew what she wanted. And at age 33, she didn't want an entertainment 'bot, nor an overpriced new 'bot, nor particularly any male 'bots. As a sometimes struggling artist, designer, and business woman she found no need for men in any of those parts of her life. She knew Sharon was a bargain the moment she saw her and didn't waste any time wrapping up the deal before the company realized its mistake. Sharon felt that finally she had found a good home. Things started well. Lori brought over an old friend and expert who carefully went through Sharon's history and programming. Lori seemed very pleased with the results showing that Sharon was both highly capable and fully loaded. A new 'bot with similar capabilities would have easily cost her a hundred and fifty thousand more - and would have been without either the real world experience or the clothing and accessories. Strangely though, Lori seemed to show no interest in any knowledge or experience Sharon might have gained from her association with Jack. She wanted Sharon's office and PA skills, but one of her first instructions to Sharon was to never mention "That Man". Strangely, she never felt the same about Richard. Once Lori had the complete readout on Sharon, she sent her back to RobTronics to have the blocks on her intelligence removed and her hair returned to its lustrous deep brown color. She also made sure that Sharon was returned with all her accessories. (Lori been in such a hurry to get her bargain safely into her possession that she hadn't made arrangements to get everything else that came with Sharon at the time.) Although no changes were made to Sharon's new bust or its special programming, Sharon was more than pleased to find herself able to hold a mature conversation again with an owner who could look her in the face and hold her own back to her. She was also happy to be out of RobTronics hands. For the rest of that first week, Lori instructed Sharon on exactly how her office was to be run. Lori's studio was attached to her house and Lori had very rigorous standards of what she expected from her new assistant. Lori, who was actually rather pretty with short dark hair, fine face, and a slim figure that she hid behind dark rimmed glasses and baggy clothes, commented more than once that only a robot could be her assistant - and a fembot at that. No human could properly meet her exacting standards, and any male -'bot or otherwise - would only confuse the customers about just whose business this was. Sharon's computerized mind easily identified each customer after a single meeting or phone call and filed away just how Lori planned to treat them. She made the perfect call screener, knowing whom Lori wanted to talk to when, and how to best put off the unnecessary ones without them even realizing what had happened. And although Sharon made a few mistakes that first week as Lori's priorities often changed quickly - sometimes without notice - Lori was fair and never blamed Sharon for anything she hadn't been told about first. By Friday Sharon had running Lori's office down pat. At the end of the day Lori told her, "Now that you've got the office running correctly, it's time to have you organize my house as well." Sharon followed Lori in the house for the first time. When Lori said to wait here in the hall and she'd be back in a moment, Sharon took the opportunity to look around to assess what duties she might be expected to fulfill here. Sharon was surprised when Lori suddenly moved up behind her, reached around, and firmly grabbed onto her breasts. The unexpected shock Sharon felt was immediately replaced by a strong surge of sexual arousal and need. Richard had never approached her so directly and forcefully in this regard. The speed and intensity of her arousal astounded her. Sharon's nipples immediately became hard and very erect, pushing through the fabric of her bra and blouse. Lori quickly located them and concentrated her attention there. Sharon felt faint as her need overwhelmed her other programming, as the marketing people had intended. Like all fembots, Sharon had a complete set of sexual programming for all occasions. It seemed the most natural thing for her to turn around and give her new owner a long, sensual kiss. To her surprise, Lori had slipped into some high heels of her own (for the first time since Sharon had arrived) to bring her much closer to Sharon's height. Seeing this, Sharon quickly kicked off her own bringing them together in height. Sharon shivered as Lori's hands roamed over her body, all of which now responded to her owner's touch. When Lori tugged at the back strap of Sharon's bra, Sharon quickly removed both her blouse and bra. Then looking over at Lori and seeing her deep breathing and dilated pupils, gently removed Lori's blouse as well. Lori was not wearing any bra. Pressing her large breasts against Lori's firm, smaller pair felt absolutely wonderful. Sharon slowly rubbed herself back and forth against Lori until both of them were moaning. Suddenly Lori stepped back. Without a word she took Sharon's hand and led her deeper into the house and up the stairs. Lori's bedroom and bath took over the entire upper story. Once they arrived Lori tugged at Sharon's skirt, which was quickly removed along with her panties. Few fembots wore any undergarments, since they hardly needed them and most owners were more happy to have their 'bots less, rather than more, dressed. Sharon had always worn them however except when commanded otherwise. They helped her feel more like a real woman. She added bras fulltime to her wardrobe later when her new breasts needed protection against too much unintended stimulation. Lori looked on with approval, seeing how Sharon was fully dressed. Still without any word being spoken, Sharon was led over to the bed. Lori spent much of the rest of the night exploring the completeness of Sharon's sexual programming for women. There was kissing and licking and touching, and periods of just holding each other. Finally Lori drifted off in Sharon's arms, leaving Sharon feeling fully satisfied of her sexual needs. This started nearly a year of a relationship that only a fembot could properly manage. Lori's sexual appetite ran on its own cycle. For days on end there wouldn't even be a whiff of any sexual interest as business was conducted. With Sharon there to handle all the routine and logical functions, Lori was freed up to perform the crucial creative functions of the business. Overall productivity went up, and profits with it. And if all wasn't perfect for Sharon, it was still pretty good. Human creativity continued to fascinate Sharon. Whether it was Jack's ability to pick stocks in a manner so different from Sharon's analytical approach, or Lori's talent to decorate an entire house - different from any previous design - that always brought rave reviews from her customers. Especially the most difficult, demanding ones. And if Lori never offered to bring Sharon into the design process the way Jack had let her into the investment business, Lori was good in other ways. She often praised Sharon's contributions towards keeping the business running without problems, and still never got angry when problems did occur. She turned down several offers from customers who wanted Sharon for themselves after they'd seen how she helped with the business end - some of them offering well in excess of what Sharon had cost new. And as to their sex life, that was up to Lori. When Lori wanted sex, she'd either ambush Sharon's breasts from behind, or lead her over to the stairway where Lori could stand up a couple stairs to match Sharon's height as she kissed her and unbuttoned her blouse and bra for some quick foreplay. This always led to hours in bed together, sometimes with some rather exotic toys of Lori's. Since Sharon's sexual needs were fully controllable when not being stimulated through her breasts, and any fembot can become instantly aroused when her owner asks it of her, all Sharon's sexual needs continue to be fulfilled. But Lori's life didn't revolve around Sharon alone. A night, sometimes two each week, she'd go out on the town, always leaving alone. On those nights Sharon would be left in the office to deal with any unlikely late call that might come in. Sometimes Lori would return with another woman, who would inevitably be gone come first thing next morning. Although Jack had taken Sharon out socially on many occasions when he wasn't otherwise involved, this thought never seemed to occur to Lori. Sharon accepted this with her robotic patience. Then she noticed a change in Lori's daily pattern. Lori went out at night and didn't return until the next morning herself. This happened every night for a week. She seemed preoccupied and started to fall behind in her work. She showed no further sexual interest in Sharon, but didn't take Sharon into her confidence either. Suddenly Lori announced she was taking a two week vacation, and told Sharon to keep the office open, but not to accept any new work. She returned with a big diamond on her ring finger and worked quickly to close out her remaining jobs. Then the house was up for sale and Sharon tidied up the final office tasks - the last one of which was to arrange for her return to RobTronics. Lori thanked Sharon for all her help, and then disappeared from her life forever. - - - (Now) Greg looked at Sharon. She was just as beautiful and sexy as she had been when she entered the room. More so, now that he had sampled just how great she was sexually. But with three owners in her past...well he did know enough about his obsession to know that there were some significant warnings here. Greg was thankful that Sharon had stopped talking before - thank God - she might have revealed yet another owner in her life. Her soft brown eyes were perfectly matched to her lovely hair, and they somehow seemed on the verge of a rush of tears. This woman - fembot - who had seemed so confident when she had walked into the room, flashed her breasts at him, and shown him the best sex of his life only minutes ago now somehow seemed fragile and vulnerable. Or it could just be salesmanship. Greg mentally shook his head to separate emotion from logic. The 'bots here had one job: To sell themselves to paying customers. Greg's role in this endeavor was to ensure that he purchased one that he could afford, and one that was capable of doing the job he wanted of her. Emotion would only lead to an expensive mistake. He had learned this lesson well through his barely successful relationships with several women. His heart, and occasionally other parts of anatomy, had led him into relationships that any objective consideration would have told him to avoid as they had far more problems than he did. A kind friend had told him once that he was a Rescuer, and the more needy the woman, the more attractive she would appear to him. He had initially felt this was actually a pretty great thing. Many of these women were beautiful, and had never had a good relationship with any man. They seemed to have everything to give to that right man too. Then it was explained to him that, "Greg, these women love to be rescued, but they don't want to be cured. If you actually are able to hold on to such a woman, you'll have to keep rescuing her time after time because that's the only thing she wants." "But can't I just help them out until they don't need to be rescued any more?" he had shot back. "No," came back the flat reply. "When she doesn't need to be rescued anymore, then she doesn't need you anymore." "Then how will I ever find what I want?" "You'll find what you want when you change yourself and start looking for something different," came the wise reply. That person - a "friend-girl", as opposed to girlfriend - had moved on with her own life, leaving Greg with the best advice he'd ever received, and no idea how to implement it. It was the lessons that he'd learned afterwards that had finally led him here. For once, maybe he could do this right from the beginning. He blinked a couple times, because Sharon was still very lovely, then asked her bluntly, "What is your resource level?" Sharon sighed deep inside. Greg really knew robots after all. At least he knew what to look for in them. Though she didn't let her disappointment reach her face, she knew she had to tell him the worst news yet about her. "94% consumed. 6% available." Greg's face fell even further in disappointment, and Sharon's hopes ended with it. A 'bot's resources were the part of her robotic mind that could accept new or changed programming as it affected her personality. For security and safety, this was a write-once area of her programming. Once used, it cannot be reused. This is intentional. When programming is changed, the old areas are marked cancelled and new commands written into unused space. The legacy of all changes remains. Greg knew that he faced a difficult dilemma with this particular 'bot. First option was that, depending on her price, he could take her as is, knowing there would be little about her he could change afterwards. Too many attempted changes now would lock up her mind completely, rendering her an expensive pile of spare parts. Or he could (probably at some extra expense, though maybe they'd throw it in to make the sale) have her mind wiped completely. This would result in a restoration of her resource memory, but at the price of losing her personality, experience, and all additional software. Not only would that value be lost, but she wouldn't be the same 'bot he had just met. She might start with the same initial programming, however it would certainly evolve into a different person. A third option was to just go on and look at additional models. Greg considered his quandary, made more difficult because he was realizing he actually was coming to like Sharon exactly the way she was. That argued against options two and three. Yet if option one was taken and it didn't work out, then he'd really be stuck. None of the choices seemed clearly best. Then he looked up and saw tears. "Why are you crying?" Greg asked the lovely fembot. "I can tell you don't want me. But if I stay here they're going to kill me," she replied. - - - (Then) When Sharon returned from Lori she was aware things were not looking good for her. She knew the routine well by now. They ran a memory audit to check her last owner's reasons for return against her permanent record. Any return was taken seriously by the company, which survived on customer satisfaction. All Sharon's systems were completely and intimately probed for any possible malfunction. Three owners had rejected her now. The question was: Was there some hidden fault in her. Nothing was found. So she was cleaned up and about to be returned to inventory when the showroom's human receptionist just up and quit. This was a stroke of luck for Sharon. Because Lori had removed Sharon's mind blocks, she was able to take the initiative and offer that she had been performing exactly this office function for the last year and could stand in on the job until a replacement was found. A quick check of her software and experience bore this out and Sharon now had a job. Now as long as she was working the front desk, her time-in-inventory clock was suspended. That was a death sentence averted. The company tracked all aspects of its marketing and production. Used robots were tracked on how long they remained in inventory. A 'bot that didn't move off the showroom floor would eventually be sent to Evaluation to determine how to best recycle this unit. Anything from a change in hair color or eye shape right up to a full mind wipe and reprogramming were possible. And with her third strike already, Sharon felt her time-in-inventory fuse was shorter than most. She was certain that she wouldn't come back the same 'bot that went in. So Sharon went to the front desk instead and did the job exactly the way Lori had taught her to do it. Her goal was to do it so well that they wouldn't even think to consider her for Eval. She hoped they'd just forget about her all together as long as there weren't any problems. Think of her just like the previous human receptionist. And for the first couple weeks her plan seemed to be working. And then she overheard a couple of the technician's commenting as they walked past that, "I see we still have the same receptionist. Same outfit and all." Sharon realized, as she had done at Lori's direction, that she needed to look a bit different each day. Different outfit. Different hair. Do what a real woman would do. Fortunately Sharon had all her clothing and accessories back again in storage. That night after everything closed down, she went back to the storage area. Because of her position as a pseudo-employee, the security system recognized her and gave her access. After that, each day she picked a new business outfit from her collection and rearranged her hair. She also always kept her attitude cheerful - even to the low-level techs that spent most of their time making disparaging remarks about the robots they worked on. Soon, she seemed just another hardworking and underpaid employee, invisible to scrutiny. Then her problem happened one night back in the storeroom. Sharon opened a new crate of her belongings, looking for something she hadn't worn here yet. A filmy black, long-sleeve top with lots of buttons down the front for adjusting just how much womanhood she wished to show seemed great. It was one of her original outfits that still fit her improved bust. White slacks and black pumps would finish off the outfit quite nicely. But the white bra would have to go. Getting it off was easy. She knew there should be a proper black one down in the box. But things seemed to have shifted during shipping. Having never gotten fully used to her much larger-size chest, she brushed her breasts against the edge of the crate while rummaging through it. There was an immediate warning tingle. It had been weeks since this program in her had been activated, and it seemed to have become overly receptive. Though she quickly found the matching bra and immediately put it on, rather than insulating her from further sensations it now seemed to amplify them. Her nipples were fully erect, pushing against the tight, stretchy fabric. Every movement she made only stimulated them further. This could rapidly become a problem. Sharon quickly finished dressing and returned to her desk. But the pleasurable arousal sensations continued, and were quickly becoming a demand. She had no owner to countermand her programming. Though she tried to sit still, every little twist and turn to try and ease the sensations only amplified them further. Though technically she belonged to the company again, there was no company representative available who could give her the necessary countermand. Finally her sexual imperatives broke through some barrier within her. She had been programmed to require sex under these circumstances and sex it was going to be. RobTronics had programmed her this way (though certainly never anticipating these circumstances) and whatever happened was going to be their fault. Sharon's reception desk terminal had unusually high access privileges. A receptionist needed to be able to order robots to the various display rooms and set their interactions with customers. She also needed to be able to provide any requested information about any unit in stock. As such, a variety of permissions had been granted to this terminal over time - rather more than actually should have been given any scrict security audit. This oversight had not been discovered because most receptionists were frankly not bright enough to explore them. (Not to insult receptionists, but it wasn't the most technically demanding job in the company.) Sharon first pulled up her own record. It told her some details about her own programming that she hadn't realized. (Like the fact that her sexual programming response would be more intense the longer it went unused. And that she was allowed to trigger it herself if she felt her owner wanted sex but couldn't bring himself to approach her first.) None of this was helpful, since she was trying to get over it, not trigger it. There was a link to more information on another page that she didn't have time to explore this moment. She did discover that while she held this receptionist position she could alter more of the parameters of any 'bot in stock to make them present themselves best for sale then she had previously realized - except for herself! There is a block in every 'bot that if they ever found themselves with access to their programming, that they would never be able to take advantage of it. That route was stymied. Sharon needed a quick solution now, and her logical mind came up with an alternative. She did a quick search on available male 'bots and found one named Nick who had just been returned for the second time by a female owner for being too aggressive and controlling. She knew that chances were good it wasn't his fault. Weak woman wanted strong, controlling males to make the tough decisions in their lives and rule the sexual relationships that they were too timid to admit to wanting. Weak women wanted these males, until they actually got one and realized it wasn't at all what they really wanted. Though there were other males in inventory, none were available at the moment. Didn't matter if he was a bit of a bastard, he would have to do. Sharon ordered Nick to appear in exhibition room "D" for a sales presentation in five minutes. He was not active between showings or at night, and this gave him time to activate and travel to the room. She choose room "D" because she knew the surveillance cameras (yeah, the company lies to its customers when it says they are unobserved) in there had been out of order for the last week. Sharon quickly adjusted her clothing and went to the room herself to wait. Her plan was simple. She was going to tell Nick to pretend to be her master and order her not to have sex with anyone. This was well within his capabilities to be the dominant partner. Nick could, by a liberal interpretation, be considered part of RobTronics, and hence allowed to give her that instruction. That should solve everything and she would be much more careful in the future. Her plan went bad almost immediately. When Nick arrived he walked right up to her. Even standing in her heels, Nick was taller and bigger than she was. Normally this wouldn't have been a concern for Sharon, who was quite comfortable with her own physical presence. She gave Nick the required instructions, but if she had spent a bit more time studying his programming parameters she would have realized that Nick had been programmed to dominate weak women. Although he wouldn't actually hurt them, he was given latitude to give women what they wanted, rather than what they said they wanted. What Nick saw was a highly aroused woman in front of him telling him to order her not to want sex. He was used to not obeying completely in this area. So rather than giving the requested instructions he instead reached out and roughly grabbed Sharon's breasts. Sharon's programming couldn't hold out any longer to this direct assault and in a moment she was tearing Nick's clothes off while he roughly removed hers. She realized she was begging him for sex, and he was more than willing to comply. As indefatigable robots, their sex marathon - she wouldn't call it love - went on for hours. Each time Sharon would finally be satisfied Nick, who had quickly learned this was the route to her weakness, would maul her breasts some more and start the cycle over again. Finally all the sexual attention reset her system to its minimum level and she was able to push him off her and command him unequivocally, "No more." But he was still right next to her. And while he had been having sex with her he had also been exploring the limits of what he could get out of her (his control program in action). He had immediately realized that Sharon was a fembot, and that she had many more privileges here than he did. After all, she had been able to send for him. He also realized that her weakness was sex. That gave him some power over her. He was now trying to work out how to use it to his advantage. Sharon was pulling herself together, still disoriented a bit from more sex than she had ever experienced in such a short interval before. Her systems sought equilibrium. Her programmers had apparently not considered just how so much sex would interact with the rest of her programming. She was about to order Nick to return to storage - glad to be rid of him - when he reached out and put one hand on her ample, and still sensitive, breast again. "No more, I said," Sharon repeated as firmly as she could. If this went on any longer the early employees might come in and catch them at it. And that would be a certain mind wipe for both of them. "No more," Nick agreed with a nasty smile, not yet squeezing that vulnerable breast, "If you agree - promise - to come back here with me tomorrow night for some more of this." Sharon wanted to refuse outright. But she couldn't lie to any such direct approach. She realized that at this moment Nick held control over her through this one vulnerability. Trapped, Sharon nodded yes, then felt his hand start to tighten again and quickly said, "Yes! Tomorrow night! As soon as all the humans are gone!" "Very good," he replied gruffly, giving her breast just enough of a twitch to let her know he now knew exactly where her limit was. That ended their session and Nick's main programming now compelled him to return to his storage niche until called again. Sharon spent the whole next day trying to decide what to do. She was bound by her promise, but Nick's aggressiveness scared her. Normally she would have been immune to him, but he now had the ability to dominate her entirely -- and knew it. She hoped he'd just get sold, but traffic in the showroom was slow for any sales right now. During her odd, unbusy moments she brought up and read the rest of Nick's record. It was clear he was meant to dominate women, and there was no easy clue in it on how to make him stop. He didn't seem to have any complementary vulnerability himself. She also researched the rest of her own record and discovered to her horror that her time-in-inventory clock had been restarted. She had somehow been reclassified as for sale. It was probably a mistake, but because it related to her, she couldn't change it. She was only days away from automatic dispatch to Evaluation, where a full mind wipe was the likely outcome. Only this accidental discovery let her still have time to try and avert this fate. Too quickly the day was over and before she knew it she realized her fingers were typing in the codes to call Nick to her again. Nick didn't waste any time the second night. He grabbed her breasts immediately, and with his always-ready robotic cock started pumping her. He also had formed some kind of plan it seemed because he was asking her detailed questions about how much control she had of the 'bot inventory, and how she scheduled the various activities. She wanted to ask exactly what he had in mind, but every time she started to ask a question he just grabbed her breasts again and she succumbed further to her arousal. Only the arrival of morning and possibility of discovery stopped him. But once more he got her explicit promise to call him here again the next night and commented that, "I'm getting out of this place, and you're going to help me." That worried Sharon a lot. It was unlikely he could really escape, but any attempt would uncover her role as well. If he went down, he'd take her down as well. The third night arrived too soon, but rather than engage her in more sex, Nick grabbed her boobs and told her to take him around the rest of the showroom area. Sharon initially protested that they would get caught, but Nick just squeezed her sensitive bust and threatened, "We'd better not." Sharon showed Nick around the entire facility that she could access. Even the storage rooms. Nick kept his hands on her the entire time. Anytime she hesitated she felt his strong fingers compelling her. Though this aroused her, he was careful to not push her too far, and he refused to give her any satisfaction. He was most interested in her access to the company systems through her receptionist terminal. And frustrated when the terminal refused to take his commands as an unauthorized user. He stood behind Sharon and had her bring up his record for study. He made her change some of his sales parameters that were within her access privileges, to leave him activated between showings. He said he needed more time to plan. Only finally did he take the now almost limp Sharon back to their room and give her brief satisfaction, before giving her detailed instructions for the next evening. Sharon knew she was running out of time, and wondered what moronic human had ever thought it was a good idea to allow Nick to be such a bastard. It was late the next day when Sharon's logical mind finally hatched a plot to get her permanently out of her predicament. In a strange way, Nick had actually contributed to his own downfall. Sharon had been looking to return Nick's programming parameters back to their original settings lest they be discovered otherwise. She had realized as she changed them at his command before that he didn't seem to be aware when the changes actually took place. (This unawareness was another safety precaution in basic 'bot programming.) She didn't dare turn him off entirely. That he'd notice, and she still was commanded to meet him that night which meant she'd have to turn him back on anyway. He would certainly make her pay for any such impertinence. But she did see where she could limit his thought processes. And she found an obscure setting that mirrored one of her own settings. In the same way her arousal response could be mitigated after recent sex, Nick's interest in sex could be set to taper off to virtual nonchalance after he engaged in it. This was probably to keep him from wearing out a normal woman. Sharon activated that setting to its maximum value and waited for the evening to arrive. When Nick arrived in Room "D," he found a surprise. Sharon was lying naked on the couch, legs open, firmly massaging her own breasts. She was so fully aroused already that Nick could do nothing else with her until he satisfied her need. Rather than fight him, she welcomed him into her. For the first time she actually enjoyed sex with Nick. Not that he was a bad lover otherwise, but rather that this time she was not in direct conflict with him. She milked it for as much as she could. When he didn't have his hands on her breasts, she was back at them again herself and she allowed herself to enjoy every moment of it. Finally her arousal level reached its minimum, and by now Nick was beyond any further interest himself. For once, before he could say or do anything more, she put her hands on his chest and easily lifted him off of her, then said, "That's enough for tonight. You may return now." Nick was completely unprepared for this and his required programming took over. He stood up, turned around, returned to his niche, and automatically shutdown until called again. Sharon went back and got herself some new clothes. Nick had destroyed every outfit she had worn with him these last three days. She dressed herself without worry at the moment for the consequences. Her sex program had been fully satisfied. Maybe it would leave her alone for a while. The next morning she went into Nick's record and altered several values. His return count was bumped from two to three. Sharon felt justified in this, since she was returning him herself this time. His time-in-inventory was set to 99. And she highlighted the negative comments about his performance from his former owners. She then initiated a transfer request for him to Evaluation immediately, adding a strong recommendation for a complete mind wipe. Nick was gone that afternoon, and one of Sharon's two problems with it. And Sharon finally realized that to survive, she needed to look out for herself as much as her owner. She could no longer just rely on having an owner tell her what to do and coast along otherwise. She grew to her full potential with that realization. And she realized her clock was ticking and that she'd better take the first good opportunity to get herself out of here. The next day Greg walked in. - - - (Now) After what she had been through, dealing with Greg seemed simple. All she wanted was a safe home with an owner who would accept her and love her as she was. Even if any of her previous owners would have accepted her, she could never go back there again. She had grown too much for any of those previous relationships to succeed. Start with someone who would take her as she was, and use all her abilities to keep that relationship going. And do it soon. Greg appeared to be an excellent candidate. Crying had been a technique to gain sympathy, and it allowed her to tell him how her time was running out and she'd be mind wiped if she wasn't sold soon. And while Greg was sympathetic, now it came out that money seemed to be the final issue. Greg's credit had appeared good when she had checked it earlier, but he was worried about his elderly mother and expenses for her, and didn't want to go into debt. Sharon dried her eyes and played her final card. It was a risk for her, but one she needed to take. "If you'll take me, I'll willingly come with you for free." "How?" Greg responded, very surprised. "Well, it's a bit complicated," She started. "Humor me." "Normally I'd sell for $125,000 because of all the extras included in me. Greg took a sharp breath over that. That was way over his budget. "However, I can get myself marked down to $74,995, which is the normal minimum for any reconditioned unit." "Better, but that's still way above free." "I'm not done yet. Next I'll create a transposition error in the system and get the invoice price set at $47,995. Even if it's a mistake, RobTronics will honor it once it's presented to you on hard copy." Forty-eight thousand certainly was a bargain, except compared to free. "So how does forty-eight thousand become free?" Sharon bit her lip. A very human gesture that some anonymous programmer had given her for situations like this one. This was a big risk for her. "Once I'm out of here, I will repay you myself." "How?" Greg asked incredulously. "I have assets. From my past life." Sharon explained about the situation with Jack. Not only could she pay for herself, but she could also easily cover all her maintenance expenses for life. "Why would you do this with me?" he had to ask. "Because my only other likely future will be with someone who wants to mind wipe me. And that would be a waste of resources." "If you pay me back, does that mean I won't own you anymore? Will you feel free to leave me any time you wish? Or feel you are no longer bound to my instructions? In other words, am I just being used to facilitate your escape?" Now Sharon saw his real concern. And he was so wrong about her. She reached over and gave Greg a kiss. He had just shown that he was a thinking, intelligent man, which is exactly the kind she needed - and wanted. He clearly wanted a robot to keep and was looking ahead for potential problems. And he wasn't dumb. "No, silly. I'm still a fembot, and always will be. You will be my owner. And I promise I will do my very best to never give you any reason to want to return me - or change me. I've learned a lot, and I want to be with you." Greg looked at her. "'Bots always have to keep their promises. Right?" "Yes," she replied softly. "This is all wonderful, but what's the catch." Sharon was actually beginning to like Greg a lot. He was being clear about the terms of their relationship up front - which was a first for her. Sharon's previous owners had just decided they liked her model and knew they could order her to be what they wanted afterwards. "The catch," she said solemnly to him, "Is that you have to take me as I am. I'm loaded with optional programming and my resource level is low. You will not be able to remake me much different from what I already am. However what I already am is pretty special, and I promise you'll never find a new model as good as this." Greg studied her. Older than he had planned, but very, very sexy. Returned three times, but always for reasons that made sense. A willing attitude and a strong desire to actually be with him. Still a very advanced model even by today's standards. And her age was one he would be growing into in a few years anyway. If he'd gotten what he first wanted, anyone who saw him with the skinny teenage "girl" would always wonder - or not need to wonder - what he saw in her. Sharon looked like a companion. A very real, sexy, beautiful, intelligent, and caring companion. But most of all his gut feeling told him she was a 'bot that wanted to try, as opposed to one who would just do her best to follow his instructions. She wanted to be with him - needed him - and that was rare to find in any 'bot. No one had learned to program love yet. But sometimes it just happened. "Then let's do it!" Greg announced. - - - (Afterwards) When Sharon arrived at Greg's small apartment she made her first - and last - big mistake with him. In her eagerness to bond with Greg, and make him happy and dependent on her, she pulled off top and bra and started squeezing her breasts and nipples. Greg however, instead of responding to her very direct invitation, just stood there. Although Sharon was, and always would be, far more beautiful and sexy than any 32-year-old had a right to be, and at the moment was fully aroused and offering herself completely up to him, Greg had been manipulated by enough women by now to know it when he saw it. When she asked, "What's wrong?" he just stood there silently, letting her arousal take its course. Soon she was to the point of begging. "Please. Either fuck me, or release me." "Why? You did this to yourself. You're trying to manipulate me." "Yes I did," she moaned. "But you've going to help me out?" "Do I?" It hurt Greg to hold out on her this way. But this was the defining moment of just who was going to run their relationship. If he was weak now, he'd never hold on to her at the end. Finally she figured it out. "I'm sorry. I stepped over the bounds. I only wanted to make you like me so that our relationship would work. I did what my previous programming told me to do. I promise now I will always respect my proper role in all our future dealings." Greg nodded. "There can only be one head of this house." Then she looked at Greg in her own plaintive, suffering way and added, "Can you please help me now, kind owner?" "Cancel sexual arousal," he commanded. Sharon went limp with relief. She looked at Greg with a wan smile and some new respect. He took her hand and pulled her in to him for a hug. "It was the only way," he whispered to her, "Without me going in to change your program, that is. You had to make this change yourself." "I know," she whispered back. "Thank you." After that they sat down together, held hands, and talked about exactly what each of them really expected from the other. They found out that they were in surprising agreement on everything important. Afterwards Sharon hooked up with Jack. "He needs to see me in-person to ensure that I'm doing this of my own volition," she said. Greg drove her to Jack's office building and waited down below in the car. Forty long minutes later she returned with a smile on her face. "It's all done," she announced. "The initial amount has already been transferred to your account, and the rest is available any time. My investments have grown nicely in my absence. We'll never be broke." "That's your money," Greg said gallantly, not wishing to steal from her what she'd probably willingly give him now. "Anything else?" "Jack was pleased to see me and asked me how my life had gone. When I gave him the short version, he offered to buy me back off of you at whatever price it took and give me a permanent position with his company. Even though he's still married and loves his wife dearly, he said after seeing me now that letting me go was the dumbest thing he'd ever done." "And you told him?" "I told him, 'No thank you.' Then I thanked him for the thought, and said that hard as it had been leaving him, I couldn't have reached this point in my existence otherwise. He wished me well and asked me to bring you over for dinner sometime." "How about after we get married?" "Married?!" she said, looking at Greg in surprise. "Are you serious?" Human/'bot marriages weren't unheard of - just very rare. Most humans had nothing to gain by any such marriage. "Yes," Greg replied. "While I was sitting here I realized that this is what I've been looking for my whole life. We each have something unique to offer the other, and I realized I've found exactly what I want in you. I doubt either of us will ever find such a good deal anywhere else. If you're willing, that is?" "Of course I'm willing," Sharon replied around the enthusiastic kiss she was now giving Greg. The moment they got back to Greg's apartment (which they would soon vacate in favor of a much larger house that Sharon would decorate herself) Greg reached out for the first time and took Sharon's breasts into his hands. Sharon smiled and responded exactly as she would every time for the rest of their lives - willingly and completely. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at Hosted by | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+