Marcus Bleak And The Sex Robots Ch 03

Bodegraven, Amsterdam,

Monday, 07 October, 2052

07:35

Marcus was confused. Should he try to get Agnes his robotic maid back from the fundamentalists or just let her die? After all she wasn't a real person, she was just a machine. Losing her shouldn't be more traumatic to him than losing a phone or calculator. But could he just let her be ripped apart just because she wasn't flesh and blood? After all she confessed to him that she was sentient. Didn't all sentient beings deserve to live?

As he sat seething in his car while it drove automatically through the streets of Amsterdam he remembered the good times they had shared. He was ashamed to admit she was the only one he trusted. A non-living thing. For her to be sentient did that mean there was life in her? The feelings he felt for her were they real? This wasn't the love one would feel for a cherished item like a diamond necklace or an antique car, this was a love you felt for a person. Only she wasn't a person. She was a machine, not created by God but by man to discredit women. An abomination.

He could hear moan lustfully into his ear with her deliciously throaty voice, feel her long, pale fingers reach between his thighs to gently stroke his balls. Her hot tongue would wriggle into his ear and he could feel the softness of her huge breasts as they mashed against his chest anytime they lay naked together between the sheets. Whenever he kissed her she would kiss back with equal vigour, her arms around his back, her hand stroking his luxurious black hair as he reached down to grab her splendidly contoured buttocks. Then the two of them would slobber and suck at each other for ages. She felt so real! She was a masterpiece.

Then without being asked, the six foot tall Amazon built to look like a Russian supermodel, would get on her knees in front of him and beg to suck his cock. She would say:

"Please, my master, let me worship this beautiful cock of yours."

And then she would look up at him with her huge slanted eyes and wait for him to give her permission to take his cock into her mouth and give it the attention it deserved. How could Marcus say no? It seemed unbelievable that a woman so outrageously sexy would kneel before him and plead for a chance to serve him like a little fuckslut slave.

Then he would let her grab his already erect tool with her cool, white hands and guide the bulbous head into her waiting mouth. Marcus would jump as he felt her tongue on his cock, feeling it wrap round him and slither all over him like a horny snake. She would push her head forward till she had shoved the entire nine inches down her throat and work it without gagging. As she sucked, she would bath his cock generously with spit and Marcus would wonder how her creators had come up with synthetic saliva that felt so good. Her head moved forwards and backwards with clockwork rhythm and he stroked her long, blond hair with a gentleness you reserved for a lover.

She could sense he was about to cum- maybe her sensors could pick up the tension in his muscles, and she immediately withdrew, his cock coming out of her mouth with a loud plop. She looked up at him and grinned playfully and Marcus knew at that moment that he had fallen in love with her.

"Master, could you please take me from behind?" she asked, going all puppy eyed. "I am so horny and you know how I love to feel your cock inside me whenever you bend me over your reading table."

Marcus immediately ordered her to assume position. She hurriedly did so and lifted her skirt to reveal her perfect bottom, clad in tiny, black, devastatingly sexy, panties. She glanced back at him and smiled mischievously. Wow, thought Marcus, she was programmed to be such a slut.

Marcus would come up behind her and grab her slim waist. She giggled and wiggled her bottom. She looked so appetizing, he thought, the plush pussy lips so inviting. He pushed his cock against her and slowly eased it in. She gave a low, deep groan. He knew he could be as rough as he liked because she felt no pain but at the same time he had an overwhelming desire to be gentle with her. When he was all the way in he left it there for a while, enjoying the heat and the wetness. How had the scientists come up with this? He then began to move his waist forwards and backwards and she grunted in pleasure.

"Take me, darling," she whispered, "I'm all yours. Do with me what you will."

Marcus kissed her roughly on the back of her long, white, slender neck and she moaned helplessly. He moved his hips faster and faster, the wet, squishy sounds of his cock pummelling her dripping pussy getting louder and louder. He reached round to grab one of her huge swinging breasts and roughly groped and squeezed them. He gripped her long, eraser like nipples that were as hard as coffin nails and pulled and twisted them. She whimpered and wailed on cue and begged him to stop because she knew that was what he wanted to hear. Her pleas drove him over the edge and he couldn't stop himself from cumming. He gave a deep, guttural groan and bucked uncontrollably against her. Agnes screamed as they came together and their bodies shook and shuddered for a long time. Eventually Marcus backed away and smacked her hard on her juicy, white bottom. She squealed in shock and turned around to hug him. He hugged her back.

"I love you, Marcus," she said.

"I love you too, Agnes."

Marcus looked down at his lap and noticed that he was holding his dick in his hand. He had cum everywhere. The car was still on autopilot but a traffic jam was coming up.

"Tint," he said to the dashboard computer and the cockpit glass frosted over. "Dial tech lab." A ringing tone came through the speakers and Scrooge's voice filled the cockpit.

"Tech lab," he said gruffly.

"Scrooge? It's me Marcus."

"Hey, what's up, man."

"I need your help."

"Wow, okay. Your tone seems serious."

"Is there a time my tone doesn't seem serious?"

"Yeah, you normally sound warm and fuzzy."

"Shut up, Scrooge. I'm coming over."

The Tech Lab, Kerkstraat, Amsterdam,

Monday, 07 October, 2052

08:35

Marcus fortunately found Scrooge working alone so he sat him down and explained the situation to him. He listened in growing amazement.

"You own a sex robot?" asked Scrooge in disbelief. "A robotic maid?"

"Yeah," Marcus said defensively, "I was feeling lonely, okay? I like her. I want her back."

"But why don't you just let the idiots destroy her? She's insured, right?"

Marcus nodded. Most sex robots were insured and there were insurance companies that catered strictly to sex robot damage and destruction coverage. After all sex robots were susceptible to the same perils as humans- they could get electrocuted (their C.P.Us got scrambled), they could drown (they weren't yet waterproof) and they could get hit by a bus.

Marcus said: "But there's something different about her... about them."

"What do you mean?"

"Sex robots are sentient."

"Whaaaat!?"

Marcus proceeded to explain his encounters with Zino and her shocking revelation plus his chat with Agnes before the skinheads stole her. Scrooge's opened his mouth and forgot to close it as Marcus told him everything.

"Robots are sentient?" asked Scrooge almost to himself, "This can't be good for us. If people get to know it could cause a panic."

"I know. Is there a way I can track down Agnes before they hurt her? I'm supposed to give them three million Euros in cash in three hours but they haven't called to give me the location."

"Man, that window is small. Are you going to pay?"

"Am I insane? I don't have that kind of money anyway and even if I did I'm not sure I'll even pay that amount to get back one of my kids."

"Always knew you were a great role model for dads all over the world! Anyway did you switch off her transponder?"

"Her what?"

"Transponder. Do you pervs actually make out time to read the frigging manual? All sex robots have transponders, so that you can track them. We should have no problem in tracking Agnes."

"Well, that sounds awesome! Let's do it."

Later...

Scrooge tracked down Agnes on a computer with a huge monitor on a wall after keying in her serial number which Marcus gave him. He then gave the coordinates to Marcus who keyed them into his car's dashboard computer and the car drove automatically to a warehouse outside town. Taking a stun gun from the trunk, Marcus as usual went in alone. He found three guys playing poker while Agnes was tied to a harsh, metal bed with no mattress, lying belly up on the springs. She was naked and covered with cum. Marcus made his presence known and impolitely didn't wait for the startled men to get up. He blasted them into oblivion before they could even raise their weapons.

Agnes was "unconscious". Her body had shut down to prevent any damage to her systems after all the abuse she endured. Marcus picked her up tenderly and carried her to the car. He ordered the dashboard computer to take them to the tech lab.

The Tech Lab, Kerkstraat, Amsterdam,

Monday, 07 October, 2052

12:15

"Is she gonna be okay?" asked Marcus as he and Scrooge stared down at her naked, voluptuous body lying on the metal table. Her eyes were closed, her lips slighted parted. Her magnificent breasts rose up like mountains and her stiff nipples pointed at the ceiling. She was totally covered with dried cum. The skinheads must have been really excited with her. He didn't blame them; he would have been excited too. After all it wasn't like they raped a real girl. She was just a sex robot.

"She'll be fine. She's rebooting as we speak. By the way our guys just picked up those skinheads. They said they had been zapped pretty good."

"Good," Marcus said with a snarl, "I need you to do something for me. I would like you to erase the memory of the kidnap and rape from her hard drive."

"Is that really necessary, Marcus? She's just a sex robot, the ordeal won't traumatize her."

"Yes, it will, Scrooge because she's sentient. She has feelings and I can't allow it to haunt her."

"My my, you really like this doll, don't you?"

"Shut up, Scrooge. I've been thinking about how those skinheads got to know that I have a sex robot. I don't even allow her to step outside my apartment. Can robots sense the presence of other robots? They have transponders but is there anything else they have?"

"Yeah, they have Bluetooth, in case you want to transfer files into their hard drive wirelessly. I guess with Bluetooth, they can see other robots just like phones see other phones if their Bluetooth is switched on."

"What of WiFi?" asked Marcus. "Can they download stuff from the internet?"

"Yeah, they can. They can access the web pretty well. That's why some owners use them to surf the net instead of their palmtops. If for instance, you're sitting on your favourite armchair, completely wasted and you needed to browse for some information on the web but you were too lazy to use your palmtop, all you needed to do was ask your sex robot to look it up for you. She would just stand there; her pupils would start moving from left to right like she's in deep R.E.M sleep then before long she would call out the results. Why do you ask?"

"I think Zino tipped off the skinheads about Agnes. She's coming after me."

Amaka's Residence,

Enugu, State of Biafra,

Friday, 02 September, 2050

23:42

The hologram lit up the darkened room with an eerie pale light. The image of Adanna stood in the middle of the sparsely furnished one room apartment glowing like a phantom. Chiamaka, her sister, thought she looked quite beautiful as Adanna spoke to her about her life in Amsterdam in a voice that was low, almost in mute. Sometimes the image flickered and the voice skipped. After all it was a pre-recorded message about five years old. A thin beam of light led from the image to Chiamaka's palmtop on top of the table. She had put the holographic message on loop. That way Adanna could watch over her while she lay in bed, her beautiful melodious voice soothing her to sleep. She would watch her till the battery in her palmtop died.

It had been ten years since Adanna left for Amsterdam, five years since her last hologram message. She used to send one at least every week then suddenly she just stopped. Chiamaka couldn't understand why. Adanna was always so responsible. She would never want her to worry. What the hell happened?

It hadn't been easy for the two girls growing up; orphaned at an early age they had been left to fend for themselves. In Africa even though black African countries had bandied together to form the new U.S.A (the United States of Africa) and remarkable advances had been made technologically and economically, the old, ancient ways still remained. Women still had very few rights and growing up poor in the State of Biafra made them fewer still.

The State of Biafra had broken away from Nigeria about fifty years ago after a second, more brutal, civil war broke out along ethnic and religious lines. It consisted of mostly the Igbo ethnic group. Adanna and Chiamaka were Igbo girls and their culture had little respect for unmarried, poor girls. Even the well off women got no respect until they got married and even then you were just another property of your husband.

A lot of African men are not comfortable with women working and gaining equal economic status. Most African men used money to woo women so if women were as successful as the men then what was the point? A man was the head of his household and western nonsense like equal rights for women was almost an abomination. A woman's role in life was to marry a man and bear him offspring, not much else. Any loftier ambitions you did at your own risk.

Adanna and Chiamaka lost their innocence the hard way. They were both raped at an early age by an uncle and when they eventually ran away they had to turn to prostitution to survive. Adanna was wiry and fair skinned while her junior sister Chiamaka was heavy set and very dark. Adanna was a fighter who had no fear and had entered into many a scrap with boys and girls alike to keep her kid sister safe. She hadn't succeeded all the time but she left many a mark on would be bullies.

As they grew older they became more professional in their chosen occupation. They graduated from roadside prostitution to a call girl service. They took on bigger clients and Adanna especially became a hot commodity as she filled out a little. She had never had much on top but her wide hips and long legs were a big draw for most men. Chiamaka was self conscious about her weight but luckily most African men liked their women with a little more meat in the right places despite the West's efforts to convince the world through their media that stick figures were sexier.

Eventually Adanna met a really wealthy politician and he had taken quite a shine to her. He gave her vast amounts of cash and gifts until his assassination by his enemies. She decided to use her money to travel to Amsterdam and upgrade her looks and set up shop there. She had heard fantastic stories of women who had undergone radical operations to change their bodies. She wanted bigger breasts, a bigger bottom, longer hair and a different eye colour. The advances in plastic surgery were so far out now that it was nearly impossible to tell the difference between real and fake breasts. Women could totally change their looks and the result wouldn't look artificial. Synthetic skin that was very realistic and perfectly safe had even been invented. It was rumoured that it was the same skin that was used for sex robots. Adanna wanted to look perfect and she even contemplated getting white synthetic skin if it would make her more commercial. So she explained her plan to Chiamaka who took it very hard but accepted eventually when Adanna promised she would send for her when she had made more money.

A month later Adanna left the country for Amsterdam after a tearful parting with her sister. That was ten years ago. She sent her an update on her progress every week via holographic message for five straight years until she suddenly stopped. In the meantime Chiamaka grew older and bolder as she adjusted to living on her own but she still missed her sister dearly. She couldn't understand why Adanna would suddenly stop communicating with her. Had something happened to her? But most immigrants were tagged when coming into Amsterdam and accounted for. She would have received news as the next of kin. She decided that maybe she was too busy or something. She continued to live her life but she could never forget her sister. At last, five years later, she decided she must go to Amsterdam and look for her.

She needed to see an agent who would get her into Amsterdam. It was going to be a complicated process acquiring a passport, visa and what not. Also she needed to raise money to pay for a teleportation ticket.

Planes were no longer the fastest means of travel to distant lands. Teleportation tubes in stations called teleports had all but replaced airports all over the world. Twenty years ago the first teleportation tubes now called teleports were commissioned. One was located in Stockholm, Sweden and the other in Oxford, England. That day, the two countries' leaders each teleported back and forth, skipping thousands of miles of open space in a flash. It was a huge success and the travel industry was forever changed.

It hadn't been an easy transition. Many negative stories circulated about the safety of these so called teleportation tubes. There were rumours that in order for one tube to teleport you to the other, you had to die. It was said that the bright flash that supposedly dematerialized you in one tube and sent details of your body's exact atomic configuration to the other tube for reconstruction, actually killed you. The person that appeared at the other tube with another flash wasn't you; it was just your clone. That argument did little to quench the popularity of these teleports. As long as you appeared at the other end with your body and senses intact, who really cared? It's not like your roasted corpse was left smoking in one of the tubes.

There was one other rumour that actually gave a lot of people, Chiamaka included, the creeps. There were a number of people who complained of a particular weird, 'empty' feeling after teleportation. They talked about having strange dreams of being in some sort of afterlife. Some had fantastically blissful dreams of a place too beautiful to comprehend while others had terrifying nightmares of being in a terrible, dark place. There didn't seem to be an explanation for why these travellers experienced such dreams until a catholic priest suggested that these tubes could only teleport people's bodies but not their souls. What came out at the other end was a soulless clone which was nothing more than a hollow shell. The dreams were visions of where their souls had gone, either Heaven or Hell. Naturally atheists laughed off the theory but a lot of religious people got so spooked that they stuck to air travel.

It had taken decades to perfect these teleports which were now in most major cities around the world. They first started testing them with primates and mammals and sometimes they ended up incomplete at the other end with limbs and other parts missing. When that problem had been resolved it was then discovered that after the teleportation, the test animals' minds were completely blank. Their bodies had travelled but their minds had not. All their memories and such had been completely wiped out. Eventually the scientists got it right. The first man to teleport from Stockholm to London arrived in one piece with all his mental faculties intact and the world was changed forever.

Chiamaka was not a big fan of teleportation but people who used planes were regarded as old fashioned. She was self conscious about her status in society and despite her profession she still cared a lot about what people said about her.