Robot Lover Ch. 01 - Sex Stories

Robot Lover Ch. 01

... the time allotted by the dice.

The robot could not knowingly hurt the human except on request, and could refuse to do anything dangerous or permanently damaging to either party, like drawing blood. Other than that, though, for the time allotted, the robot took orders.

I thought for a while about whether I would want to be the robot. How many people wouldwant to be a sex slave? The robot had to be given the very real freedom to do whatever he or she was told to do, without fear of judgement afterward. Being the robot might involve doing tiring or painful or even ugly things.

Of course some people, on a deep level, enjoyed being degraded. And some, even dominant types, enjoyed giving up the power and being abused. But what if you didn't? A lot of people would refuse to play the game if being the robot might mean your first mouthful of cum, or a whipping.

Asimov's laws weren't much use. They didn't cover robot embarrassment or anger, because robots don't have emotions. The three laws didn't even cover purposeful damage to the robot. What to do?

The robot would have to be able to say "No" at any time. And not only that, maybe a rule could reverse the roles of human and robot for a short time as part of every game. Maybe at the whim of the robot.... No, the rules could prevent the same two people from playing the same roles more than... once? Let's say twice, in case you have two people who really like it the way it is.

No, no. Too complicated. I crossed out the ...

... whole paragraph.

The robot could say "no" at any time, and refuse tobe the robot for more than one game in a row, unless he or she liked it.... And even if you did come up with a happy combination, the roles of human and robot would be decided by another coin toss after three games. The whole point was learning a different point of view.

Really? That was the point?

I carried the notebook down to the living room and tossed it on the couch, then went into the kitchen and made myself a breakfast sandwich, which is exactly the same as a lunch sandwich.

When I carried my plate back into the living room, I found Claudia standing by the couch in an oversized white T-shirt. She had picked up the notebook and was reading.

I was embarrassed. I had thought I was alone, and there was a lot of specific language on those pages. I was also very conscious that I was wearing my bathrobe and nothing else.

"Good morning," I said. "Please feel free to read my notebook."

"Robot Lover?" she said. I couldn't read her expression. She had bed-head, but on her it looked cute. I decided to brazen it out.

"Yes," I said. "I was thinking of it as a role-playing thing, and then I thought maybe it could be turned into an actual game. You know, like in a store."

"Hmnn," she said, and looked down at my ragged scribbles again.

"Do you want a cup of coffee?" I asked. "It's made."

"Sure," she said.

"How do you--"

"Black."

Thinking once again that "Claud" wasn't much for ...