Marcus Bleak And The Sex Robots

Marcus Bleak's Residence, Lindengracht, Amsterdam,

Saturday, 05 October, 2052

05:33

Marcus thought the heavy tits of his maid Agnes looked awesome as they bounced up and down inches away from his nose. He was sitting up in bed, his hands on her tiny waist as she straddled him. He watched in fascination as her very wet vagina slid up and down his engorged penis. She was moaning loudly, making harsh guttural noises of someone in the throes of intense pleasure. Marcus wondered at this.

Agnes was a big girl. She was six foot plus, built like a brick outhouse, with immense breasts, wide hips and a big, round bottom. Her skin was alabaster white and cold to the touch. Her face had Slavic features with the high cheekbones and narrow, black eyes. Her hair was long and very blonde. She had this imperious air of a dominatrix which clashed with her entirely submissive nature. She wore the ridiculously short black and white maid's uniform with class and cooked and cleaned with elegance and poise. And she knew how to fuck. Marcus was impressed.

He had certainly got his money's worth. The package had come in last week and he had looked at it resentfully for a long time before he brought himself to open it. It wasn't really his style to get a maid but he had been very lonely and he had to admit very horny.

He despised Agnes for what she was. To him she was an abomination but yet he could not deny the guilty pleasure he felt when he made her do anything he wanted. This was the type of woman that men could only dream about: sweet, sexy, compliant and totally without drama. She would do whatever he wanted without complaining even once. But still he felt like he was doing something as reprehensible as doing drugs.

Agnes leaned forward and Marcus grabbed her breasts and squeezing them together, pushed her hard, pointed nipples into his mouth. He rolled them around in his tongue, savouring their sweet taste. She threw back her head and moaned in helpless ecstasy. Her hands grabbed his head and pushed it further into her chest. She arched her back to push her breasts further into his mouth. He slobbered greedily as her long, white fingers with blood red fingernails raked through his hair. She was muttering obscenities in some Eastern European language.

Marcus lay back on the bed and Agnes continued to hump him with increased vigour. He ran his hands over her splendid calves. She was as sleek as a race horse, he thought as he explored her firm thighs. She was certainly a work of art. Then why couldn't he get past his hatred of her?

He had brought her out of the package where she had been lying in the foetal position and stood her up. He had been amazed at how tall she was- she was even bigger than how she appeared in the catalogue. He sat back and contemplated her as she stared sightlessly back at him. So this was it, he thought. This was the hottest thing in town.

He was going to cum soon but he wanted to take her from behind. He grabbed her and roughly pushed her off. She fell off the bed and landed on the floor with a loud thud. She stood up immediately and stared at him expectantly, no trace of acrimony in her eyes.

"Bend over the bed" he ordered gruffly. "I want to fuck you from behind."

Agnes did as she was told. She assumed the position and looked at him and smiled lustfully. Marcus went behind her and held her slim waist. She wiggled her huge bottom at him. Marcus pressed his dick against her pussy and without any preamble, forced it all the way in. she screamed loudly as was expected of her. She clawed at the sheets as he pumped her mercilessly.

Marcus was surprised when he had seen the manual. He had guessed it was to be expected. After all she was very sophisticated with so many moving parts. KEEP OUT OF THE REACH OF CHILDREN was printed in red on a sticker on her ankle. He smiled. After just a few minor adjustments she was ready. Press the 'on' button and wait for her boot up.

"Welcome! Please enter your name and registration" she had said in perfect English. He had been appalled. This was wrong, so very wrong.

He couldn't stop himself from cumming anymore. He leaned forward and grabbed her breasts as he started bucking. He grunted in pleasure as she screamed at the same time. Her pussy squeezed his cock as it completely milked him of his spunk. Pushing her away he climbed back on the bed.

"Get lost" he said, exhausted.

"Yes, master" she said and curtseyed. She walked elegantly away while Marcus eyes fed on her glorious body.

An abomination, he thought. Indeed.

Magna Plaza, Amsterdam,

Saturday, 05 October, 2052

06:57

The Hundai Magma sports car came to a halt behind the huge building that clawed at the dark, grumbling sky. Icy rain drops streaked across the bubble windscreen, almost faster than the old fashioned wipers could remove them. Detective Marcus Bleak stared into the gathering autumn darkness, his eyes an unreadable pair of hooded slits. He could see the flickering blue and red lights of police vehicles and a small crowd of curious spectators being held back by officers in front of the yellow tape. He muttered an expletive and ordered the car doors to open. There was a mechanical hiss as the doors slid upwards and the detective climbed out.

Bleak shuffled towards the crowd while he lit a cigarette. The harsh smoke gave him comfort against the cold as he yanked up the high collar of his jet black leather overcoat. Bleak was a big man, very fit for a man who had lived for half a century. He had a dark complexion, a result of a cocktail of exotic ancestry that included African, Native American and Asian. His grey-white beard stood out in stark contrast to his skin even though his full head of hair was still black and luxurious. His face looked like a craggy rock with bags permanently packed under his sombre eyes and a huge Roman nose that usually wrinkled in disdain. His mouth had thick, full lips that were perpetually turned down at the corners. He wasn't a very handsome man but he looked very intriguing. That was usually the first impression before you started disliking him.

Detective Marcus Bleak was disliked by most of his colleagues in the European Police Commission, disliked by most criminals across the EU and Great Britain and even more disliked by his ex-wife and two teenage daughters. He liked being disliked. Most of the dislike was mixed with a healthy dose of fear. He liked being feared even by his superiors, it made them avoid him, giving him the opportunity to be alone and he was given the rare opportunity to work without a partner. He was a true lone wolf.

Detective Bleak was a good detective. In fact some would say he was great. A few even saw past their dislike of him to call him a legend. Bleak could have become commissioner a long time ago if he had been ready to kiss some ass. That was against his nature so he never rose through the ranks. He had the highest success rate with cases so he kept getting them. But even the most successful cop can get put in the doghouse.

He had botched a case, the most high profile case of his career. The teenage son of the Governor of East Central Province had been kidnapped by a sophisticated, international gang. He had tracked them to a warehouse in Brussels and had called for back up. Instead of waiting for them to arrive he had gone in alone. There were about six of them, ex-military with automatic weapons. They didn't stand a chance. The gunfight was brief, his aim flawless, his speed and evasiveness like the shadow of a panther. But the leader didn't wait for Bleak to get to him before putting a bullet between the frightened kid's eyes.

It was a scandal and the fallout was brutal. Bleak could have ended up in prison if the Governor had not hated his son more than he hated Bleak. His son had been embarrassing him, having been arrested several times for rape and assault, nothing but a spoilt rich boy out to prove how much of a rebel he was. It was because of his atrocious, flamboyant lifestyle that the gang noticed him in the first place. In the end Bleak got canned and his colleagues sniggered behind his back. He rarely got the juicy murder cases that made cops famous and was instead saddled with difficult, messy or just plain dull assignments. Marcus was furious but no one would sympathize with him. He still loved his job so he sucked it up.

He pushed his way through the crowd and the officers let him through the cordon. A couple of uniformed cops stood near a body on the ground. As he came closer he saw it looked like a black teenage girl lying in a heap on the cold, wet asphalt. As usual he felt ice cold fury surge through his veins then he remembered who the victim was and felt much better. Who it was.

'She' was a sex robot, one of the hundreds available in Amsterdam. Someone had bashed her head in, leaving a dark purple pool of viscose liquid under head. A pair of blank, hazel eyes stared sightlessly at the gathering clouds. The robot was designed to look like a very pretty and voluptuous African girl with an afro hairdo and wearing a short leopard skin outfit. One arm was curved above her head while the other was stretched out in a right angle to her body. One leg bent inwards at the knee while the other leg was stretched out. She wore gold coloured high heels. The colour of the synthetic skin was light brown; her face was very pretty with huge eyes, a small pert nose and full, dark lips. Even Bleak was impressed. Whoever designed her really took his time. Now someone had killed it. A crime known as roboticide. Yes. Detective Bleak was now investigating glorified cases of destruction of private property.

Sex robots were insanely popular in Amsterdam. They had all but phased out the human prostitutes. The earliest sex robots were built in the 1990s but were nothing more than glorified dolls with enhanced features. Now, 62 years later they could hardly be distinguished from the real thing. They talked, they walked, they could dance and they could sing. They listened, they could cook, they had moods and they could think. All these due to CPUs that were small, compact and extremely complex. Legend had it that they could even fall in love. Most importantly, they were clean, they didn't catch or spread diseases and they didn't get pregnant. The sex robots were so good that some men now kept them as permanent partners. Marriages had dropped drastically as these sex robots replaced wives. There was even talk that there were robots in development that could act as incubators for artificially inseminated embryos. They could even raise children!

It wasn't just sex robots that were being churned out in factories in China at an alarming rate. Other robots were being built to take over jobs that traditionally had a high work force. Large numbers of workers in factories were being replaced by fewer robots that could get the job done in less time. They didn't get tired, they didn't go on strike and they didn't ask for overtime. Production across the board was boosted and output was high. Robots were replacing soldiers in the military. Many countries were ordering for specialized, highly militarized robots that could do the job without worrying about casualties and compensation to families. A huge cultural revolution was happening and it was spreading worldwide.

Naturally a large portion of society hated them- the conservatives, blue-collar workers and women in general except lesbians. Male sex robots were also available but for some reason they weren't that popular. Anti sex robot groups had been started and a lot of them turned violent. A lot of them had chapters in Amsterdam and this poor sex robot could have fallen victim to one or several of their members. From the nature of her 'injuries' there was no doubt it was a hate crime. Roboticide was a serious crime and could get the perpetrator five years in Prison Maximus in Siberia.

As Detective Bleak stood over the battered body he couldn't help but feel a little sorry for the broken machine. Despite the advances in technology, sex robots still didn't have different expressions. They couldn't convey any emotion unless they spoke. This sex robot stared expressionlessly at him, lips slightly parted, pupils large and opaque. The uniformed officers watched him as he stooped to look closer at her right eye with a pair of glasses he produced from a pocket. Pressing the small button on the handle of the frame, the digital lens magnified his sight till he could see the registration number on the corner of the pupil. He quickly memorized it.

Reducing the range of the glasses he swept his eyes over the body. There was a deep dent on the forehead and another on the cheek. Apparently there was one behind her head that was deep enough to perforate her cybernetic skull. Motor oil had formed a pool around her head. Other smaller dents peppered the exposed part of her body and her synthetic skin had ripped apart in places. The left pupil was cracked. Bleak sighed. They really did a number on her.

Bleak told the officers to load up the body and send it to the tech lab. The tech lab had 'forensic' experts specifically meant for roboticide cases. Nowadays they were very busy. Bleak followed the van to their office in Kerkstraat near Diem Gallery. He reclined his seat and laid back, listening to the morning news as the car cruised on autopilot. The news was the usual depressing stuff- a factory full of robotic workers had been torched by a radical group; the loss was in billions of Euros. The talks between the Northern States of America and the Reformed Confederate States of America had broken down despite both sides expressing frustration at the five decade old second civil war that had erupted when America's first black president was assassinated by a rightwing nutcase after winning a second term in 2012. Twenty three euronauts on the colony in Mars suffocated when one of the oxygen generators failed and the back up refused to kick in. Robots were to replace them. Regular stuff.

The Tech Lab, Kerkstraat, Amsterdam,

Saturday, 05 October, 2052

07:14

The body was laid on an operating table after the clothes had been removed. Bleak thought the naked sex robot looked eerily like a real dead African girl. The Tech Lab looked like a grease monkey's shop with different mechanical parts and tools all over the place. The 'tekkies' were young, jovial chaps from M.I.T. Scrooge, the head technician, had a mop of blond hair, a thick, straggly beard and eyes permanently bloodshot from smoking weed. He seemed to be the only guy who actually liked Beak. He called him by his first name and acted like a complete fool around him which nobody born of woman would dare to do. Beak liked him back.

"This isn't your regular Roboticide, Marcus" Scrooge said excitedly, "This sex robot wasn't just smashed to pieces. The CPU was removed."

"Removed? But isn't that like... difficult?"

"Look at this." Scrooge turned the body over to show the back of the head which was an oily mess. "Someone stuck his hand into this chick's head and pulled out the CPU in its cybernetic brain. The thing is so small you can hardly spot it with a flashlight much less inside this muck."

Detective Bleak shook his head ruefully. "That means we can't playback her last moments. The memory, everything is gone. Those radical loons don't know their gobs from their buttholes. Whoever did this had technical knowhow."

"Yep. You've got an interesting criminal to catch, Marcus."

"Yes, I do, Scrooge" Bleak said thoughtfully. "Yes, I do. Who is the robot registered to?"

"A Nigerian micro-finance bank. They have dozens of them working all over Amsterdam. According to them these sex robots feed many families back in Nigeria who bought shares in the business. They are going to go ape shit over this roboticide."

"Great" said Bleak, "An international incident. That's all I need. What's her business name?"

"Her name is Rose. She works at Club Afrika at Vijzelstraat."

"Looks like that's where I'm headed to next."

Club Afrika, Vijelstraat,

Saturday, 05 October, 2052

08:04

The owner of the club was a huge African immigrant called Mr. Jide. He had a small head which looked out of place on such a massive upper body. He seemed to have no neck and his bulging chest threatened to burst the light purple silk shirt he was wearing. Bleak wondered how his shirt sleeves could contain such biceps that looked as big as rugby balls. He briefly wondered whether he could take on Mr. Jide. He decided he couldn't. Mr. Jide would probably beat his ass so thoroughly that he would probably resort to begging to avoid getting killed. Bleak smiled at the image.

The club hadn't changed much in the last fifty years. During the rise of robotic prostitution, Mr. Jide decided to hire a few of the best of the sex robots but still kept his human girls. After all there were customers who still insisted on true flesh and blood. These girls were strictly for the top clientele and were well looked after. The robot girls were left for regular customers and those perverts who liked a little rough play. Robot girls were very durable and were designed to take quite a bit of punishment so any sadist who wanted to sate his diabolical desires didn't have to worry about getting arrested for battery or murder. There were incidents when such bastards got a little too excited and ended up damaging some of the robots. Bleak remembered a time he was in uniform and he had to arrest a man who took a sex robot home and tried to hang her with a length of chain attached to the ceiling. It was a surreal scene with a female head on the bed, motor oil soiling the white sheets and the pale, white body dressed in lingerie on the floor. The man stood nearby looking sheepish. The sex robot's decapitated head looked at Bleak and said accusingly:

"Mister Dane is a bad, bad man."

Bleak thought she looked beautiful with her red hair in a halo around her head.

"I can't believe this happened to Rose" Mr Jide said sadly. "She was such a sweet girl."

Bleak grunted. Sweet girl indeed. She was a frigging machine for Pete's sake, he thought.

"Any idea who could have done this?" he asked.

"You mean apart from the fundamentalists? I have no idea. Rose was very popular here even among the human staff."

"Can I know the clients that patronized her?"

"I'm sorry but I don't think I can help you with that. We have a very high regard for privacy so only the robots know the people that see them. Why don't you check Rose's CPU? Her last memories should still be there."

"Her CPU was removed."

"Removed? That's weird."

"Yes, it is. Who was the last person to see her alive?"

"Rose went to see a client at Magna Plaza so I guess that was the last person to see her alive but anyway she was with Zino before she left the club so maybe you can talk to her."

"Who's Zino?"

"A sex robot, one of our oldest."

"You want me to talk to a sex robot?" Bleak asked annoyed.

"She's very intelligent so you might get something useful from her. She was the previous model before Rose. Then they used to make the sex robots quite witty and smart for patrons who liked to talk more than having actual sex. After a while the manufacturers discovered that customers were more interested in looks than all the talk. Rose was just the perfect girl: sweet, sexy and as dumb as rocks. Zino is kinda the old hag around her though you would never know from seeing her."

Bleak sighed and wondered how his career had derailed so badly that he was now going to be interrogating sex robots. "Let me talk to her."

08:30

Zino was a 'big girl' probably built with the stereotypical impression that African women should look very dark and have ample curves. She had a startling resemblance to Rose which Bleak found disconcerting. She was wearing only a short piece of native cloth that did little to cover up her ample curves.