Marcus Bleak And The Sex Robots Ch 04

The Tech Lab, Kerkstraat, Amsterdam,

Monday, 07 October, 2052

23:36

Marcus Bleak and Scrooge stared down at the succulent, naked body of Zino the sex robot and wondered what to do next. They had to admit the she was a sight for sore eyes. Her tall, dark body glistened with synthetic beads of sweat as she lay stretched out on the cold, metal table with cables running from her head to a monitor on the wall. They admired the roundness of her heavy breasts sitting out on her chest like soccer balls, capped with saucer like areolas with thick, long nipples jutting up like spikes. Her boobs actually sagged at the sides with their weight like a real woman's natural breasts. Her long, muscular legs were spread far apart and her pubic hair was thick and bushy. Her plump pussy lips looked very inviting, seemingly wet and moist without even being touched. Both men became very hard.

"What now?" asked Scrooge, licking his lips. He eyed her puffy lips and thought dirty thoughts. Marcus sighed and shook his head.

"Well, we can't hold her indefinitely," he said gruffly as he wondered whether fucking Zino would make him unfaithful to Agnes, his sexy robotic maid. After all they were both sex robots and cheating shouldn't apply to them. But then again they were both sentient so that meant they had feelings, right? Could a sex robot's heart be broken?

"I say we fuck the bitch right now before rebooting her," said Scrooge with a dirty grin.

"Scrooge!" exclaimed Marcus, his nose wrinkling in disapproval. "That's rape!"

"No it isn't! She is a sex robot built for fucking. Rape doesn't apply to her. It's not like she feels pain or anything. Fucking her won't even be illegal since you picked her up from the club with Mister Jide's approval. Don't forget in the end she is still a hooker."

"Yeah, I know but..."

"But nothing! Remember this bitch set up Agnes to be kidnapped and raped repeatedly by those skinheads. She deserves no mercy. It's payback time!"

"Yeah, I know but fucking her will be like fucking a corpse. She's really inanimate right now."

Scrooge grinned evilly.

"After I restart her we can fuck her senseless and wipe her memory. She won't remember a thing."

"Jeeze, Scrooge, no! You can fuck her all you want but don't wipe her memory or anything."

"Okay okay! Wow, you are such a party pooper."

Marcus sighed and glanced at his watch.

"I need to go and talk to Mr. Abel's wife about her husband's conviction for Rose's roboticide. Since we know that robots are sentient, this means that Rose was murdered. She isn't just some piece of equipment, she was an intelligent being. The stakes have changed."

"You think the wife knows anything?"

"She might. I should have talked to her before. I glossed over the case right from the beginning. I only talked to Mr. Abel and once we found the baseball bat with his fingerprints on it, I was convinced it was him. But I never knew why he did it. Apparently he seemed to like Rose. His wife knew about her so it couldn't be that he was afraid she'll expose the affair. Sex robots don't get pregnant so it wasn't because he had knocked her up. What other reason could he have killed her for? Zino seemed to have a motive because she was jealous of her 'sister' but now we know she was lying. Was she protecting someone? Or did she just get a kick out of pretending to be her killer? What the hell is going on?"

"I dunno, man. The case is weird enough already."

"I suspect Rose was harbouring a secret. A secret so terrible it had gotten her killed."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because this smells of an elaborate conspiracy. Something evil is afoot and I don't think we will like the answers we find."

"That sounds scary, man. If these robots are really sentient then one day they'll get tired of being attacked and strike back. Can you imagine a sex robot terrorist group?"

"I don't even want to think about that," Marcus said with a yawn as he turned to leave. "I think I've had enough excitement for one night. I'll interview Mrs. Abel tomorrow."

"Hey, what about Zino?"

"She's all yours. Just make sure you take her back to Club Afrika in one piece."

Brunt Oil Industries, Lagos, New Nigeria,

Monday, 05 September, 2050

09:14

For her to afford a teleportation ticket to Amsterdam tomorrow, Chiamaka needed to raise money. Tickets cost up to $3000 and for her to raise that kind of money that quickly she needed to meet one of her very rich clients. That meant probably cornering him in his office and fucking him on the spot. She felt no guilty feelings about selling her body to the highest bidder. As far as she was concerned all women were whores whether for money, love or power. Every woman had a price for her pussy. You just had to find out what it was. Sometimes she was amazed by the hypocrisy of it all. She knew women who were top level bankers who whored themselves to filthy rich clients to get them to open accounts. The banks they worked for even provided guest houses where such clients could be 'entertained'. This was plain old prostitution at the highest level and what made these women better than her? Because they didn't stand at the roadside? A slut was a slut no matter her position in society.

Chief Rotimi Daniels was the C.E.O of Brunt Oil Industries. After Shell BP pulled out of the Niger Delta due to the incessant attacks of the locals on their installations, his company was one of the many indigenous enterprises that took over. Shell had been accused of destroying the environment and exploiting the former Nigeria for their oil. The new local companies didn't change the status quo. In fact they were worse. They continued the plundering and in the end only a few people profited from the misery of the rest of the locals. Long story short Chief Daniels was richer than God.

Chiamaka boldly strutted into the cool, air conditioned reception in a brief dress that barely contained her voluptuous body. The material was light and shimmery and anyone watching her could easily see that her swinging, pendulous breasts were unconstrained by any bra. Her huge bottom wobbled and shook as she strutted in her high heels. A hush fell over the other people waiting in the reception as she stalked over to the receptionist's desk.

The lady looked up and smiled pleasantly which she thought odd since most women treated her with undisguised hostility.

"How may I help you?" she asked in a beautiful, melodious voice which Chiamaka found disconcerting. It wasn't that her tone was insincere. It just seemed... detached.

The secretary was wearing an immaculate white blouse with lace frills at the collar and cuffs. Her skin was the colour of milk chocolate and her physique was perfect like that of a mannequin. Her hair was a luxurious black mane that had been pulled back into a tight bun. Her lips were full and red with a cute, upturned nose. Chiamaka could see through the glass desk that her black skirt was quite short, about half thigh, exposing an excellent pair of long, creamy legs. She had on a pair of smart and expensive looking shoes. Chiamaka was struck by a severe bout of jealousy. She looked into the lady's eyes and at first thought their hazel colour came from contact lenses. Suddenly she had a shock and a shiver ran up her spine.

She had unusually sharp vision and she had noticed something odd about the secretary's eyes. She had noticed numbers on the curved corners of the irises. This lady wasn't human. She was a sex robot.

Chiamaka couldn't believe that she had actually just met one in the flesh (flesh? Hah!). She had heard of them and how they had taken over the sex industry abroad especially in Amsterdam which had turned into a Mecca of sorts. She had heard stories of rich men in Africa who had ordered for sex robots but they mostly hid them away in their mansions for fear of the stigma that a highly religious society would place on them for buying such an abomination. Yet here was one right in front of her. Working as a secretary?!

It wasn't bad enough that these sex robots were taking over her trade, now they were going after the few other jobs real women had left. A surge of fury coursed through her veins and she resisted the impulse to reach over the desk and grab the non living bitch by her neck and snap her gorgeous head off. Would that even kill it?

"I want to see Chief," she said acidly, "Tell him I am here and don't waste my time."

"Please give me a minute to let him know you're here," the secretary replied with the same anonymous friendly tone. Without taking her eyes of Chiamaka she cocked her head to one side and the hooker was shocked to hear a ringing tone coming from a speaker on the desk.

"Yes, what is it, Janet?" asked a gruff voice from the speaker.

"There is a lady here to see you," she said, still smiling at Chiamaka, her two perfectly manicured fingers placed flat on the desk in front of her.

"Who is she?" he asked in mild disinterest.

"Hold on let me send a picture of her to your palmtop." Her eyes blinked twice and Chiamaka realised she had just taken her picture. "Did you get it, Sir?

"Yes, I did, let her in." There was the unmistakable sound of lust in his voice.

"Yes, sir."

Her head cocked back into position and she gestured towards the door behind her.

"He will see you now," she said sweetly. Chiamaka stared at her for quite a while and feeling totally spooked, walked unsteadily towards Chief Daniel's office. She could hear murmurs of disapproval from the other poor souls waiting in the reception.

Chief Rotimi Daniels was a fat fuck that filled his plush, expansive office chair with gluttonous glee and nearly dwarfed his huge, mahogany desk with his sheer mass. He was wearing a native

agbada

traditional dress which was quite possibly the only thing he could wear since he was so huge. He was smoking a fat cigar and he peered at her through the thick smoke with his tiny, bloodshot eyes.

"Hello, darling," he said cheerfully. "Why don't you take of all your clothes and come over here and sit on my lap. My penis is really happy to see you." He gave a short bark of a laugh.

Chiamaka cringed but did as she was told. Soon her clothes were in a heap on the plush, Persian rug and she cat walked round his desk to stand in front of him. He grabbed her arm and pulled her on to his lap. She wriggled around as she felt something extremely hard prod between her buttocks from under the native dress. She was quite baffled that for a guy this fat, he still had one hell of a hard on! He dropped his cigar in an ashtray and placed a large, clammy hand on one of her big, black boobs.

"So...," he drawled as he twisted a long, hard nipple. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Yes, sir," she said eagerly, "I ..."

He raised a finger. "Hold on a second," he said. He pressed the intercom on his desk. "Janet, get in here."

"Yes, sir."

Chiamaka froze as the door opened and Janet walked in.

"Sir?" Janet asked, completely ignoring her and the pile of clothes on the floor.

"Please tell anyone waiting for me to come back tomorrow. I'm going to be busy all night to see anyone."

"Yes, sir. Anything else?"

"Yes. When you have cleared the reception come back in here and get naked too. Are your batteries fully charged? You have a lot of fucking and sucking to do."

"I've been charging them all morning. I'm ready."

"Good girl. Now run along."

Janet silently left and Chiamaka suddenly felt sick. She wanted to throw up in disgust. She had never felt so debased before. She was about to participate in a threesome with a sex robot. How revolting! She wanted to leave but thought about her sister in Amsterdam and the money she had to raise to buy the teleportation ticket.

"Now," Chief Daniels said, taking firm hold of her nipple again. "Where were we?"

She told the chief of her financial problems while he fondled and squeezed each of her boobs. He barely responded, only mumbled as he nibbled and sucked on her stiff nipples. He stuck a finger into her pussy and wiggled it around causing her to lose coherent speech. She was so turned on that she failed to notice Janet return to the office.

A soft, sleek hand firmly grasped her chin and turned her head sideways. A juicy pair of lips pressed gently against her. Automatically she opened her mouth and an abnormally long, pink tongue slid inside and coiled round her own like a snake. Chiamaka moaned deeply as Janet slowly French kissed her. She felt the perfect hand of the sex robot leave her chin and start to caress her face. The other hand came up to stroke her hair. She was so overwhelmed by the sex robot's sweet seductiveness that she almost forgot about the chief's rough lips and teeth attacking her painfully hard nipples.

"Janet, bend this bitch over my desk and give me a show. You know what I like."

She released Chiamaka's mouth and smiled at her.

"Yes, sir," she said without taking her cold, lifeless eyes off her. She yanked Chiamaka of the chief's lap by her hair, causing her to yelp in shock and dragged her over to the side of the desk. With surprising strength, she bent her over the edge, causing her impressively contoured buttocks to jut out behind her.

She had barely glanced at the sex robot's body as she was being dragged about by her hair but she did confirm it was perfectly sculptured. Her body was slim and tall with pear shaped breasts and well rounded hips. Her legs went on forever. She had no synthetic pubic hair, she was meant to look shaved. There had been no sign of a strap on dildo on her so why was she being bent over the chief's desk by this sex robot?

Her eyes snapped wide open in shock when she felt a huge, smooth object nudge against her pussy lips. She began to struggle, desperately trying to look around and see the monster that was trying to penetrate her but Janet's grip on her hips rendered her efforts futile. The chief started to laugh maniacally.

"Oh, sorry, darling" he said nastily, "Did I mention that Janet can grow a twelve inch cock? I had her custom made so I added that option. And boy, does she know how to use it!"

"Wait, please tell her to stop, that thing's too big," she begged. Only the head had managed to enter and already her pussy was stretched to the limit.

"Sorry, dear but you're gonna have to work real hard all night to please me. You were asking for a lot of money and a whore has to give her best for that kind of amount. I'm too tired to fuck you after such a hard day at the office but Janet here will keep you busy till morning. You'll have to try really hard to keep up though because you know sex robots never get tired."

"No! Wait... ungh!" Three more inches of artificial cock were forced in. Chiamaka thought she was going to pass out.

"Ssh, darling," Janet crooned gently. "Just relax and let me handle this. It's going to hurt but I'll make it as tolerable as possible."

"Please... I can't!" Tears were streaming down her face.

"Ssh... trust me." She kissed her softly on the back of her neck and nibbled her ear. Somehow her soothing voice helped her to relax.

Another thrust of her hips and soon all twelve inches went in to the hilt. Chiamaka felt like she had been impaled on a spear. She was dripping wet but the monster cock in her cunt seemed to secrete some sort of lubricant as well. It made it easier.

Janet slowly moved her hips back and forth with clockwork precision and Chiamaka gasped and gripped the edges of the desk. The loud slaps of flesh against synthetic flesh filled the room. Chief Daniels resumed smoking his cigar and peered through the rising smoke at the proceedings with great interest.

"Fuck her good, Janet" he said with a leer. "And when you're done with her pussy, fuck her in the ass."

Chiamaka didn't have any breath left in her to protest. She was being fucked senseless for the chief's viewing pleasure and there was nothing she could do about it. For a terrible second she wondered whether her sister was worth the abuse. It wasn't long before she began to scream at the top of her voice. She just couldn't help it anymore.

"Scream as much as you want, dear" the chief said evilly, "It's like music to my ears."

Chiamaka squeezed her eyes shut and prayed she would still be sane in the morning. All night Janet fucked her in every position possible. She fucked her in the mouth, pussy and ass. She even held her upside down and fucked her face. By the time Chief Daniels told her to stop, Chiamaka was a just a used up peace of fuck meat. He ordered her to put on her clothes and wrote her a check for $5000.

"Janet," he said with a yawn.

"Yes, sir." She was already fully dressed and totally unruffled.

"Take out the trash," he said pointing at Chiamaka.

Mrs. Abel's residence , Nieuwendam, Amsterdam,

Tuesday, 08 October, 2052

23:36

Samantha Abel was a short, severe woman with a lean, hard face that had seen little contentment despite having a successful husband and coming from a wealthy family. Her handshake was quite firm and Marcus could feel the strength in her wrist. She probably played a lot of tennis, he thought. She kept a perpetually suspicious eye on him as he took in the opulence of her house and sat on an expensive looking armchair without being asked to.

"Mrs. Abel, are you aware that your husband was having an affair with a sex robot?" Marcus asked her, smiling broadly. If he was expecting a reaction from her he was severely disappointed.

"Yes, I am aware," she said. Her forehead didn't even crease. She just sat opposite him and eyed him with about as much fondness you would accord an exotic insect that just crawled out from under your fluffed pillow.

Marcus frowned and she gave a small smile. She had won. He sighed and stroked his white beard.

"Are you aware that the sex robot in question has been destroyed?" This time she did show some reaction. She smiled from ear to ear.

"Really?" she asked. "So that bitch Rose is dead? Well, that's great news."

Marcus was impressed. Somehow Mr. Richard Abel had kept the news of Rose's death and his subsequent arrest and conviction from his family. How did he manage that?

"You really hated her, didn't you?" he asked.

"Of course I did. She was going to destroy my marriage."

"But she was only a robot. She isn't real. Why should you hate a machine?"

"You think Rose was just a machine, huh?" she asked and this time her cold, flinty eyes darkened considerably. "My husband was going to leave me and my daughter and live alone with that abomination."

Marcus eyebrows shot up in feigned surprise.

"He was going to leave you for a robot?" he asked in mock disbelief. "That can't be possible."

"Oh, but he told me himself," she said, leaning forward, her eyes flashing. "Can you imagine how humiliating that is? He told me he didn't love me anymore and that he was fed up with raising our teenage daughter. He said he really loved Rose and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Now tell me, should I be happy she's dead or not?"

Marcus didn't reply. Although he was disgusted by Mr. Abel's actions he also noted that his wife's admission of her hatred of Rose now made her a suspect in the roboticide.

"Let me tell you something about these sex robots, officer," she said, hissing like a cobra. "They are just part of a grand scheme to rid the planet of womenfolk. This is a beginning of a genocide against women, something that men have always wanted for thousands of years."

Marcus grinned. "Really?" he asked. He was interested in hearing her rant. It would help him decide whether she was nuts.

"Men have always hated women and that's why you all look for the slightest opportunity to oppress us. You can't do without us, yet all you want to do is lock us up inside the house and take away our rights and liberties. Your whole world revolves around us yet you belittle us at every turn. Even your so called religions seek to destroy us or at least keep us in line. The Catholic Church treats us like second class citizens and Muslims have no reservations in stoning us just because we refuse to be forced into loveless marriages."