Chapter 11: Tuesday, Again (still) - The Bootique
Less than an hour before, I'd bolted awake to find myself seated on a metal chair with no personal memories to speak of, in a concrete room full of villains and stolen pleasure-droids. So that sucked. Also, my butt had felt like I'd just been reamed and, disturbingly enough, I'd been less concerned about the violation than the fact I'd missed out on it, having been out cold at the time.
Now, here I was at a service door to the back of a shop embarrassingly named 'Bootique'. With me was the only remaining thief (who was obliged to push along the above mentioned chair), along with even more droids - all of us overseen by a rogue robot that seemed to be on a rescue mission.
For all I knew, this could be just a regular day for me.
Beyond the door was not the storage space I'd expected, but rather a cozy little suite. The room was fitted out with a ginormous bed (where the three off-line droids we'd liberated were promptly dumped), and two comfy chairs. Plus, in a corner there was a big doggie bed occupied by an even bigger dog, or possibly tiger, curled up with its back to us. There was also a spotless and seemingly food-free kitchen, where the thief (Sid, now ex-thief, having turned hired mercenary) wheeled his mystery throne-like chair next to two others. One of these had a seriously retro look, in a space-cadet sort of way. And, disturbingly, I suddenly knew that this chair went with a robot clerk with pointy boobs, which had sold me the shoes I was wearing. Hmmm.
I sat on the edge of the bed, with the two luscious non-combatant droids sitting mutely on either side of me, while I reviewed what I'd figured out so far. First off, we were clearly in the secret headquarters of this Ninja-bot, oddly enough hidden at the back of a shoe store. While I remembered having been here before (out front at least) I unfortunately couldn't remember when or where 'here' actually was. As to who was here, 'we' consisted of six droids (counting the ninja but not the unseen clerk), Sid the sexy hired goon, and what may or may not have been a jaguar over in the corner. Plus myself ... whoever I was.
Beyond the provenance of my shoes, I remembered zilch. But - I looked a lot like the big-titted slut-bots beside me, and I had woken up on a similar chair to the ones here, with a suspicion of having been butt-fucked. That led me to both what I was, and why I was here.
The explanation was obvious. I'd been sent in, undercover, to masquerade as a sex-bot. I was meant to penetrate (just the word made me leak, a little) ... um, to infiltrate these two gangs of droid thieves! God only knew how deep inside my ass that fat cable had gone - I creamed a bit more at the thought - but no doubt I'd been surgically prepared for just such a possibility. And, of course, I'd been comically enhanced most everywhere else. Add to that the temporary memory rinse and nympho-maniacal conditioning I'd clearly also agreed to ... well, hell, I must be a fucking hero!
My boosted libido also explained why I would, even now as I evaluated my sit-rep, be most happy to fuck everyone in the room, regardless of gender or species.
"I'm Lexi Jean Wilkinson," said the hot ninja-bot, standing in front of me to interrupt my cunning assessment.
"You are a robot," I pointed out. "Um. Like me." My brothers-in-arms (another tiny squirt) had failed to foresee that a droid could be so thoroughly programmed as to pull off a heist like this. I must have fallen into some sort of gang war.
The thing smiled - I'd have sworn there was a glint in its eye - and said, "A PleasureDroid 1600, yes. I was built as a companion ... for Ms. Lexi Wilkinson. Before she died..." - and here its voice faltered a moment - "she set me up with her identity and estate. Still, it's hard for a droid to pass as human, even with the most cutting-edge modifications."
This was followed by yet another uncomfortable stare, but I just thought, yeah, like that ninja mod you got going.
"So, Lexi and I agreed that a large shopping complex was the best place for me to mingle unnoticed. I have the lease to this place, which even includes permission for this accommodation, deep in the fine print. And unlike my sister droids here, I don't draw a great deal of attention."
I looked around the room and had to agree about their failure-to-blend issue. Not like they were zebra striped (and how cute would that be?) but Blondie and Red, the big-boobed, bubble-butted sex-bots next to me certainly stood out. And several of the shut down bots on the other side of the bed were even worse - or better, depending on your point of view. The one in black likewise bordered on a caricature of lewdness; it was also extremely pale, and showed a hint of incisor. Factor in its honest-to-god cape, and my best guess was that the thing was a vampire-bot.
To be fair, the smallest of the off-line bots looked more or less normal. It was designed as a slightly built, pretty-faced girl. The gauzy summer dress it wore did nothing to hide its pert breasts and hard nipples. Of course, like the other shut down units its eyes were blankly open, but otherwise ... eminently fuckable.
But then there was the warrior-babe I'd admired earlier, its kilt now gone - the better to get the total effect of its luscious chocolate-colored skin, its heroic boobs, and its Amazonian proportions: it was big, broad-shouldered and well muscled. In case those features didn't turn your head in a crowded elevator, there was that spiky Mohawk hair ... and its blunt-headed horse cock that currently hung limply over its thigh. As in, right over its thigh and across the bed.
Eventually I eased off staring at this magnificent machine - the whole assemblage, I mean, although its horse yard was stupendous. Anyhow, then I managed to notice the leather lanyard around its neck, which led to a longish quirt lying on the bed above its meaty mallet. I suddenly pictured this creature whipping herself with her own riding crop as she ran across a field ... then shook my head, trying to clear away my lust, and randomly said, "The leather flap-doodle on the end of that thingie looks like the hand tracings I used to cut out when I was six."
The Lexi-bot coughed at this, and looked a little startled; but I had already moved on. My boobs and bum were now tingling as I imagined Sam using the quirt to slap them - the stinging progressing to burning as he gradually laid-on ever harder. This delightful reverie was abruptly interrupted by my robo-host's pet, which began to unfold itself from its pillow-basket.
The creature stretched and stood on its hind legs, to reveal itself as what could only be described as a leopard-girl droid (which brought the bot total to seven). It was short furred, long tailed, and cat-footed, but with a lovely moist girl-pussy and girl-titties that all called out for sucking, if you could decide where to start. Well, I knew I'd start with that sweet, dripping cunt; but the next choice was challenging on account of it had three sets of boobies. It also had a mostly human face - provided you disregarded the pointed ears, long whiskers, sharp teeth, and the snub nose mounted over its lightly split upper lip.
By this time I had a hand under my trampy skirt while I eyed the assembled riff-raff, trying to discretely tug my clit with thumb and forefinger while simultaneously dibbling my little finger into my leaking box below. This had been a strange day - what I little could remember of it. I couldn't believe I had ever known about the existence of such warped machines (let alone the degenerate fetishes they were built to serve). Yet here I was in a room full of them, with a randy tickle in my belly, thinking that this crowd had the makings of a superior orgy.
The Lexi-bot followed my glance back to the cute little slumped-over, nearly normal bot that my roving eyes were currently perving. "Sid - that little droid needs a recharge. Set up the new chair, please."
The last of the thieves plugged in the chair, and then carried the pretty thing over toward it ... which startled me by hoisting some sort of probe out of its seat. He propped the bot into a sitting position, with the probe standing between its thighs. Then he hoisted the bot's wispy dress clear, which to my much greater surprise exposed a sizable (though limp) cock ... the tip of which was sheathed in a snug foreskin. This unexpected apparatus was in the way (the wang, not so much its hood), so Sid lifted it up as well - revealing not balls but instead a pouting pussy. "Frisco," he said, with a shrug, as though the hometown of whoever had commissioned the droid was sufficient explanation. He wrestled the bot up to thread the stiff metallic mooring mast into its butt.
"Well, Probably-Tracie ... what do you think about our little sweetie's attributes?"
I nodded my approval. I knew I should be worried - after all, the cheeky Lexi-bot was clearly in charge of this whole motley crew. And while the other bots theoretically had to obey me (or the cute crook, being the only other human in the room) their leader had somehow broken free of its programming restraints. And here she was, telling me everything like she was a Bond villain. I knew my handlers would be tracking me electronically and that at any moment my constabulary colleagues would tumble in and rescue me. Any minute now ... But not, I hoped, until I'd been thoroughly and royally fucked.
There was more. "Okay. I've got my own quick-charging technology. Sid, put this data stick into 'Frisco's chair. Yes, just there. Now you can put the pony girl on the blue chair - that's mine. After that, put 'Drusilla' over there onto Maxine's chair." Who, presumably, was the robo-clerk. "We'll have to work out a rotation schedule soon, but for now some quick boosts will be good for twenty minutes, easy."
Once Sid had set to his task, Lexi made eye contact with the redhead beside me and said, "Bambi, process data recovery, previous primary. Save as secondary 'n-plus-one'."
At this incantation, Red-Bambi just said "Processing," and settled into a thousand yard stare, only slightly offset by a vapid smile. In a few moments, she announced, "Done. Ninety-two percent recovery, designated Secondary Three."
"So - you have a pre-existing secondary. We'll have to visit her by and by. Access Secondary Three. What is your name?"
"My name is Angeline," it said, after a slight hesitation.
