Bert, the janitor at a mall in the near future, has special access to a DE.BOT PAY2PLAY public use sexbot. When he returns after a lengthy vacation, the machine is desperate for his attention, having been denied orgasm in his absence. 3k words, erotic horror content rating.
This is a new story in my Onboarding/DE.BOT series. While other stories in the series were presented in a script format, this one is a more typical narrative, depicting a real life use case for the trained sexbots.
Content warnings/tags: slavery of a machine intelligence/sexbot; mindfuck; careless use; public use; casual/implied death threat (to a non-organic person); dehumanization (including the use of it/its pronouns for a person who does not have a stated preference for those pronouns); seizure-like malfunction.
Bert finished his shift in a good mood, as always. Some people might have found working as a mall custodian unfulfilling or demeaning work, but he was proud to have a steady job that needed doing.
And there were perks.
"Ughnn. Nhh, plea--se," a voice begged near-incoherently from the back of the mall arcade as he stepped inside.
That was one of the perks.
He always cleaned the arcade last to give himself a little pick-me-up at the end of his shift. There were a lot of machines to dust, and it was fiddly to get the broom into each corner, but he didn't mind; the whole time, he got to listen to the faint pleading coming from the back corner, the machine that was concealed with a curtain and a big 18+ ONLY sign.
"Take it out, please take it out," the facsimile of a female voice whimpered. "Ohh. Please..."
"I'll get to you, sweetheart," Bert called, which elicited a desperate sob from the curtained corner. He whistled as he moved on to mopping the linoleum.
Finally, when the rest of the arcade was sparkling and the voice coming from the back had been reduced to weeping and moans, Bert pushed his custodian's cart to the outside of the arcade. He walked past the curtain--the machine on the other side cried out hopefully at the sound of his footsteps, short, desperate, grunting animal noises--and into the employee bathroom to use the toilet and wash his hands.
Then, finally, he parted the curtain. "Hey, baby. Rough day?"
"Hngh," the machine whined, its mouth lolling open in distress. "Please, please!"
The main console sat against the wall, as wide as an average arcade machine, with the branding printed along the top: DE.BOT and PAY2PLAY. Below the branding was a plexiglass shield protecting the functional parts of the machine.
If you didn't know better, you would think the console had two real women stuck into it, sealed behind that plexiglass: one with her face and tits exposed, and the other imprisoned next to her with just her ass and pussy on display. But both "women" were just android partials, connected to the same artificial consciousness housed in the machine.
Bert immediately saw why it was in such an agitated state. Someone--the arcade owner, most likely--had shoved a vibrating toy inside the machine's pussy and left it there, an intentionally cruel way to torment the thing. Its protruding ass and pussy were trembling violently, convulsing like a real woman on the verge of orgasm--or insanity.
"Ahh, sweetie," Bert said. The plexiglass case was generally only meant to unlock with payment, of course, but he had a key to manually unlock it. He opened it up and pulled the toy out.
The machine groaned, its pussy continuing to clench desperately on the open air, dripping copious amounts of body-safe lubricant that was meant to both simulate the arousal response of a real woman and to provide a more pleasurable experience for users.
"Please, please, please," it begged. Its eyes struggled to focus, artificial irises contracting and then dilating again as it stared in his direction. Sight wasn't one of the important senses for a stationary machine like this one--after all, it didn't need to navigate--and its expression was generally fixed in a vacant, lustful gape, but Bert was certain by now that it recognized him. It knew he could give it what it wanted.
"Let's get you cleaned up first, baby," he said, patting it on the soft silicone pad of its buttocks. It moaned, its pussy flexing, asshole winking.
Cleaning the PAY2PLAY machine technically wasn't in his contract. That was well beyond normal janitorial duties, but he and the arcade owner--a conniving older woman--had come to a little agreement. He cleaned the machine in an unofficial sort of capacity, as a favor; in return, the owner had given him the key and override codes for the machine.
The key let him use it for free, and the codes let him play with all sorts of fun settings...like enabling its usually-disabled orgasm function.
He set down a bucket stocked with the special cleaning tools that he brought just for this job, specially-shaped sponges and disinfecting silicone soap. Technically, the machine itself ran a cleaning cycle that killed any bacteria and viruses between use, but the soap was made to clean silicone sex toys and made his job a lot easier by breaking down the gunk that collected when it had been well-used.
Bert soaped up the machine's exposed parts, using the sponges to get deep down its throat, between its pendulous silicone breasts. It choked and shuddered the whole time, tits heaving as if it were panting for air, even though it didn't really breathe.
"Needy girl today, huh?" Bert asked. "Getting used hard?"
The machine let out a garbled noise somewhere between a pornographic moan and the bleating of a sheep as he plunged a sponged rod into the depths of its simulated asshole, scrubbing out any trace of semen.
"Pl-l-lease," it stuttered as he pulled the tool out again. "Been so long...need to...need to..."
"Yeah, I know. It's been a few weeks, hasn't it?" He'd been on vacation for the past week. Leading up to that, he'd been on a run of using the machine without allowing it to orgasm, enjoying the increasingly desperate way it begged and tried to please him each night, the decreasing coherence as it succumbed to whatever happened to an artificially simulated human mind subjected to the strain of extreme and unending sexual need and use without the satisfaction of orgasm.
As far as he knew, the machine never had any other opportunities to come. The kiosk was programmed to allow customers to pay to unlock its orgasms, but the arcade owner had disabled the option, and certainly never seemed interested in providing the machine any mercy herself. She had said to Bert before that the machine's desperate begging was free advertising. She'd even shown Bert security footage of customers lining up outside the curtain, drawn in by the noisy cries the machine made when it was used.
