Erotic Robotic Box Set: Box Set #1-3 (Erotic Robotic #1-3) Read online

  Almost.

  “Miss Rosie, before we begin I require hydration to stimulate lubrication.”

  “What?” I squeaked. Lubrication? What the hell did that mean?

  Adam’s head turned to face me and his eyes locked on my own, but the rest of his body stayed still. It was creepy beyond creepy.

  “I require regular intake of water to help stimulate my self-lubricating parts. Otherwise I cannot simulate saliva or sweat.”

  “Ew. No sweating.” I fetched him a tall glass of water and he drained it three seconds, then gently placed the glass on my dresser.

  “Miss Rosie, it would appear you are nervous.”

  “Yes.” There was no point in denying it. It might not be real sex, but it was still losing my virginity, doing something unknown for the first time. Would it hurt? Would it pinch? Would I like it? What if I didn’t like it?

  “Please relax, Miss Rosie. I am programmed to follow your voice prompts.”

  “Yeah, okay.” I licked my lips again. “Can we start with… um… kissing?”

  “Do you wish me to hold you?”

  I nodded, but he didn’t move. “Yes,” I said out loud, and he took a step forward and folded his fake-muscular arms around my waist. He bent his head in an expectant manner, and I realised that I was going to have to take charge on this whole thing. Adam wasn’t a real person, he was a robot following my commands. He couldn’t do anything without being invited.

  I put my arms around his neck and hesitated. His eyes were open, unblinking.

  “Adam?”

  “Yes, Miss Rosie?”

  “Can you program yourself to blink like a normal person?”

  He blinked. “Affirmative, Miss Rosie.”

  “Right. Now close your eyes.”

  He did so, and I leaned up and pressed my lips against his. They were surprisingly soft, but firm at the same time. I wondered if that was what kissing a real man felt like. His lips moved against mine and daringly, I darted my tongue out, wondering what it would feel like to delve into his robotic mouth. He said he’d stimulated his lubrication, his saliva. To my delight his lips opened to receive me and his warm tongue, that marvellous piece of intricate engineering, brushed my own. I couldn’t be certain if that was what kissing a real man felt like, but it was nice, and I liked it.

  I pulled back. “Adam, I want you to have sex with me. Get naked.”

  Chapter Two

  He nodded his head and blinked. I lay down on the bed, resting on my elbows, as he reached over his head and grabbed the back of his t-shirt, peeling it off in one smooth movement. He revealed perfectly chiselled abs and a chest my teeth ached to sink in to – exactly the kind of physique I found most attractive. He dropped the t-shirt on the floor and reached to pull down his pants. I felt my heart skip a beat in anticipation. Of course I’d seen a man’s penis before, in biology class, and again in sex education, but that was all dry and clinical and didn’t prepare me for-

  -for the sight of his dick, huge and heavy-looking and fully erect, swollen and ready to do its business.

  “Would you like me to undress you, Miss Rosie?” Adam said, standing naked in front of me like it was no big deal – because it wasn’t. He was simply a piece of hardware.

  “No,” I said, hiking up my skirt and hooking my thumbs under my panties, which to my surprise were already damp. I hadn’t expected that. I kicked them off, but then a wicked thought crossed my mind.

  “Adam, do you know how to give head?”

  “I am programmed for both cunnilingus and fellatio. Would you like me to perform cunnilingus on you?”

  “Yes. Only, don’t call it ‘cunnilingus.’ Call it ‘licking my pussy’.”

  Obliging, Adam dropped to his knees, placed his hands on my thighs and used his thumbs to part the folds of my sex. I watched in fascination as his head dipped and he buried his face in my pussy, licking long and sensuous. The sensation was so unexpected and glorious that I fell flat on my back and groaned a noise I didn’t know I was capable of making. Adam licked me over and over, his tongue darting over my wet slit and to a spot a little further north that delighted in his attentions as well. I didn’t know what he was doing but I liked it – a lot.

  All of a sudden I felt a pressure building in my lower belly. “Stop!” I shouted.

  Adam pulled back. “Is there a problem, Miss Rosie?’

  “I, um… no.” What was that? Was that the fabled orgasm?

  “Do you not wish me to touch your clitoris? Statistics show it is much easier for a woman to orgasm from clitoral stimulation than vaginal. I can try my best to give you a vaginal orgasm, but results are not guaranteed. You are much more likely to orgasm from clitoral stimulation.”

  “Why do you keep saying that, clit-thingy?”

  Adam sat back on his haunches and regarded me. I swear I saw intelligence lurk in those warm chocolate eyes. “Clitoris, Miss Rosie?”

  “What is that?” I repeated.

  “The clitoris is part of the female anatomy responsible for the clitoral orgasm, Miss Rosie.”

  I felt myself flush. The sex education in school had never mentioned such a thing. Orgasm was a word whispered in secret, a word reserved only for grown ups.

  “Show me,” I demanded, thrusting my hand at him. He gently took it in his own and guided my index finger until it ran over my clitoris. “It doesn’t feel so special,” I said, disappointed.

  “Pressure and friction will change that. Allow me to demonstrate.” Adam placed two of his own fingers there. I watched in amazement as he began stroking that little spot and the felt a rush of adrenalin and endorphins flood my body, pleasure shooting down my legs and curling into my belly, building in anticipation and pressure as he rubbed, circling over a tiny piece of flesh and worshipping it as if it was the most flawless pearl.

  My body tensed and my legs started to shake.

  “Would you like me to use my tongue, Miss Rosie?”

  “Yes!” I nearly shouted, my fingers clawing at the bed sheets. I caught a brief reprieve as he removed his fingers and replaced them with his clever naughty tongue. He lashed at my clitoris, his strokes firm and unyielding. My legs shook and my entire body pulsed just before the most amazing, exquisite, foreign feeling seemed to explode from my pussy and stretch its greedy fingers all across my body. I yelped in surprise and tried to pull away, but Adam clamped his strong mechanical arms around my legs and continued to lave at my clitoris even as I squirmed and squealed and moaned and cried out, thrashing against the bed and his strong arms.

  Finally, it was too much. “Stop,” I cried, exhausted. “Stop, please!”

  Adam pulled away, and I instantly felt empty.

  “That was an orgasm, Miss Rosie.”

  I wanted another one. Instead I flopped on the bed, exhausted, my legs locked, hormones swirling around my bloodstream. My pussy ached to be filled. I managed to say breathlessly, “Adam, fuck me with that monster cock of yours.”

  And of course, he obliged. He rose and settled his body over mine, his hips sinuously buried between my thighs. The sudden weight of him shocked me. I’d asked for a tall, athletic robot, but I hadn’t expected him to be so heavy. If I asked him to, he could hold me down. We could play a little game.

  I shook my head. First thing first: that dratted virginity.

  Adam shifted his weight and wrapped his long arms around me. I felt the head of his cock straining at my entrance.

  “Are you ready to accept my penis, Miss Rosie?”

  “Stop calling me ‘miss’,” I snapped. “And yes, put that bad boy inside of me. I want you to fuck me so hard I have another orgasm, and another after that.”

  Adam seemed to know better than to do exactly as I ordered: after all, if he’d started fucking crazily like a jacked-up rabbit it probably would have hurt. I guess he must have been programmed to be gentle and ease into me, because that’s what he did. The swollen head of his cock pushed against my eager pussy and I accepted him, welcoming him
in, that strange unknown feeling that seemed to fill something I never knew was empty until now.

  When I felt him fully sheathed inside me, his artificial testicles pressed right up against me, I relaxed a little and sighed in happiness.

  “Would you like me to fuck you hard now, Miss Rosie?” Adam said, completely oblivious to the awkwardness of the situation.

  “Fuck yes,” I blurted, lifting my knees around his hips as he bunched his artificial muscles and pulled out a little to thrust back in, some part of his anatomy rubbing against my aching swollen, lonely clit as he did so. I bit back a shout and let my head fall back. “Do it faster. Harder.”

  Adam obliged and soon I was squirming under him, desperate for my second ever orgasm.

  “Oh god,” I cried out. “Go deeper. Harder. Make me come!”

  Silently Adam did as I bid, even tightening his grip on me to keep me in prime position. His eternally erect nipples brushed against my shirt and I realised I hadn’t even taken my clothes off. In my rush to lose that dreaded virginity I hadn’t even taken off my skirt, and now it hitched up at my waist. Maybe after he made me come again, I’d take my clothes off and get him to kiss me all over like a real lover.

  I felt my own arms pulling him closer to me and before I knew what I was doing I’d planted my lips over his and was kissing him passionately, like he was a real man – and what was worse was that he responded without any voice cues, his own tongue dominating my own as his body dominated me and drove me towards orgasm.

  But something was off. He was completely silent in all this. I was the one groaning and panting. He was simply fucking.

  “Adam,” I said breathlessly. “I want you to make noises. I want you to make it sound like you’re enjoying this.”

  He continued fucking me hard and fast even as his calm monotone, baritone voice said, “I take no pleasure, Miss Rosie. I do not have emotions.”

  “I want you to pretend!” I gasped, feeling the curling edges of another orgasm creeping up on me. “Pretend like you’re enjoying it, like you’re a real person!”

  He let out a phenomenon, manly grunt and started moaning above me, doing a pretty good imitation of myself but in his own voice. It turned me on even more and spurred my orgasm forward to catch me off guard. I screamed in his arms and thrashed, my whole body pulsing in pleasure as his own body held me down to continue to ram into me, drawing the orgasm out and milking me dry until I stopped twitching.

  Without even telling him, he’d stopped ramming me hard and fast and gone back to the slow, gentle, barely-touching pace of the beginning. I could still feel his rod pulsing into me, but he was avoiding my clit.

  Then, to my surprise, he shifted his impressive weight onto one arm, ran his hand down my side and slipped it under my skirt to press against my clit.

  Shocked, I froze, staring into his calm, emotionless face. His unseeing eyes seemed to focus on my own. I hadn’t told him to do that, and here he was, his clever fingers manipulating me for my third orgasm. I wanted to tell him to stop, but by now I was addicted and needed the release, even though my last one was only a few moments ago. To my complete surprise, he lowered his head and kissed me, intimately, his tongue darting over my own. He continued to kiss me even as my breath shortened and my body tensed and I moaned into his mouth my third and final – for now – orgasm. It was shockingly intimate, even with a giant programmable sex toy lying above me.

  When I stopped twitching, he slowly drew out of me and pulled away, and waited further instructions.

  “Adam,” I said slowly. “Not that I’m complaining, but why did you use your fingers on that last time?”

  He blinked. “You told me you wanted three orgasms and it’s my job to demonstrate sexual variances with you.”

  “Is that why you kissed me without me telling you to?”

  I swear I saw a hint of a smile on his face – or maybe it was wishful thinking. “Miss Rosie, I am an intelligent robot. I have already learned that you enjoy kissing. I believed it would be pleasurable for you.”

  I nodded. “It was, thank you. I like it when you kiss me. It makes me feel… I don’t know. Different.”

  “What would you like me to do now, Miss Rosie?”

  “First of all, stop calling me ‘miss.’ Just Rosie. And now I’m going to take a nap and I want you to hold me while I do so.” I settled on the mattress so my back was to him and felt him settle behind me, one arm snaking around my waist to comfort me as I slept. It was almost like having a real man in my bed.

  Almost.

  Chapter Three

  When I was a kid I quickly lost interest in my mother’s companion. He didn’t respond to my voice commands. Domestic bots are house slaves and don’t come equipped like erotic companions do. Even if I’d wanted to experiment, I couldn’t take an opportunity. Some parents let their bots walk around the house naked – mine did, because he had nothing interesting to show, just smooth Synthaskin from belly to thigh.

  Now as I lazed in the arms of my own personal bot, scribbling down thoughts and tests in my red leather diary, I marvelled at the engineering feats that brought me the most advanced Synthaskin, synthetic lubrication, an artificial intelligence that could learn and respond. By now Adam knew how I liked to be kissed, that I liked to be held close during orgasm, that I liked him to sound like he was enjoying it all as well. I’d even experimented with giving him head once, and although his artificial penis was covered in Synthaskin, I imagined it would be vastly different with a real man who actually enjoyed what I was doing. He tasted vaguely like linoleum, and he couldn’t orgasm, so I wasn’t quite satisfied.

  I loved it when he spread my legs and licked me like I was the most perfect, delicious lollipop he’d ever sucked. He could do it with me standing or with me kneeling over his head. I’d ordered him to figure out how to fuck me over the back of the couch, with my legs wrapped around his strong, narrow hips and the blood rushing to my head. We’d done it on the kitchen counter and against the wall and with me straddling him as he sat cross-legged on the bed. He’d introduced me to the wonders of using pillows as leverage and closing my legs to increase friction, and he never ever tired. He only needed to recharge every few days plugged into my mains electricity and he never tired of making me orgasm. I was growing to need it like a drug, and that scared me.

  I didn’t write that last part in my diary.

  I trailed my fingers down his belly to the trail of artificial hair nearing his belly button. His chest rose and fell in the breathing I’d ordered him to imitate.

  “Adam, why do robots have belly buttons?”

  His hand lazily circled my back in the way he knew I loved. “To make the experience more real, Miss Rosie.”

  “It’s Rosie,” I told him for the millionth time. “And it’s not exactly real. I mean, I know you’re a robot. You don’t feel human. Your skin is different and you don’t breathe or blink unless ordered to.”

  “I’m programmed that way, Miss Rosie.”

  I sighed and flopped back to the pillows, trapping his hand underneath me. “I wonder if the next generation of Synthaskin will improve.”

  He leaned over me, brushed my lips with his. “Would you like me to make love to you, Miss Rosie?”

  I pulled a face. “It’s not making love, you giant toaster. It’s just sex. Fucking. There’s no love involved.”

  “You instructed me to call it that, Miss Rosie.”

  “When?”

  “Last time we fucked.”

  I frowned. “I don’t remember.”

  “Perhaps because you passed out after your sixth orgasm, Miss Rosie.”

  My lips curled into a smile. “Oh yes… that was delicious. Good job.”

  It always felt awkward complimenting my robot on doing the job he was made for. Just remembering that marathon of fucking and coming and screaming in lust made my pussy clench and hot juices start leaking. I reached for his free hand and moved it over my bare breasts, teasing my nipples, before movin
g it down over my belly, exciting myself with anticipation. Adam watched me passively through his chocolate eyes, his face completely blank.

  I closed my eyes and moved his hand further south, opening my legs as I did so. I positioned his fingers. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment as he still needed – and would always need – my voice cues to tell him what to do. Not for the first time I wondered what it might be like with someone who genuinely liked me – or even had the capacity to like me – who didn’t need to be told what to do the whole time, who wasn’t programmed to fulfil me but wanted to anyway.

  I sighed. “Make me come,” I said simply.

  Adam went to work. Robots were built to be ambidextrous so it didn’t matter which hand he used. He lowered his head and kissed my neck as he knew I liked, pulled me closer and clamped one leg over mine to hold me steady. I lay there with my eyes closed, chasing my orgasm, unable to figure out why it wasn’t working. I would feel the build, but then I lost it.

  “Stop,” I said, frustrated. He pulled away. I cracked an eye open to glare at him. “It isn’t real.”

  He said nothing.

  I opened both eyes and sat up a little. “This whole thing, this sex slave robot and keeping notes on how we interact and even you taking my virginity, it isn’t working! Because you’re not another person. You’re just a machine.”

  Still nothing from my silent slave.

  “Go and do something useful,” I snapped, pushing the covers off my body and sitting up over the side of the bed.

  “Miss Rosie, you seem tense. Would you like a massage?”

  “No, I would not – and stop calling me ‘miss’!”

  “Would you like me to make love to you?”

  “It’s not love!” I shrieked, turning around and slapping at his arm. I wasn’t stupid enough to punch – I’d only end up hurting myself. He wouldn’t feel anything, anyway. “It’s not love, it’s just sex. That’s all you are. You’re designed just for sex.” I was mad now, swinging around and crawling towards him on my knees. I straddled his hips and shoved my aching, wet pussy onto his eternally erect cock. “You’re a machine with no feelings or emotions, you’re here to make me come, so just do your fucking job.”