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Message-ID: <33886asstr$1007626205@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "DB_Story" <DB_Story@att.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} rp Three Strikes Against Her {DB Story} (M/Fembot, F/Fembot, Robot/Fembot, rom, dom, ScFi)
Date: Thu,  6 Dec 2001 03:10:05 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

THREE STRIKES AGAINST HER
By DB ( DB_Story@att.net / http://DB_Story.home.att.net )
Copyrightc 2001 by DB.
ASSM/ASFR (M/Fembot, F/Fembot, Robot/Fembot, rom, dom, ScFi)

(This story contains Constitutionally protected material 
intended for adults over 18 years of age in the United States of 
America, and whatever passes for adult status in other 
countries. If you are under legal age, acting under legal age, 
not allowed to view such material in your area, or easily 
offended, please do not continue. This is not for you.

(The only rights granted are to view this story. You are not 
allowed to reproduce, post, or otherwise redistribute this story 
without permission, except for non-profit Usenet archiving 
sites.

(To purchase for publication, place on your web-site devoted to 
this style of fiction, or for permission to link to my posted 
material, please contact me first at the above email.

(A special thanks to Gorgo for his excellent and much 
appreciated proofreading.)

- - -

(Now)

Sharon watched the man make his way into the showroom. Her 
current position as receptionist made her the first point of 
contact for customers, of which there weren't enough right now 
for her needs. One would think with the current business 
downturn that selling reconditioned robots would be booming, but 
there was a stigma that remained regardless of economic 
conditions. Buying a used robot is buying someone else's 
problems. Even though this was a factory showroom run by the 
original manufacturer, most people wanted a new `bot if they got 
one at all.

Sharon studied the latest prospect as he looked around before 
spotting her at her desk. Not too young. Those didn't have money 
or stability. Not too old either. The older ones would be more 
fixed in their definitions of where a `bot would fit into their 
life, and also tended to be much more controlling of their 
purchases. Late twenties, she guessed. This might be the one she 
needed. She'd know for sure after she ran some checks on him. 
She shifted her position slightly to appear as attractive as 
possible and waited for him to come over.

Greg walked into the used robot showroom with a bit of 
apprehension in his stride. At age 28 he had finally made the 
decision to add a `bot to his life. This was not as simple as it 
sounded. Robots still tended to be quite expensive, even used 
ones. His credit was marginal enough as it was, but he had 
wanted a robot of his own ever since he was thirteen when a 
beautiful, kind, older lady (who actually looked about 23 years 
old) had helped him out of a jam and had turned out to be a 
robot herself. Even then the robots had been so good that you 
barely tell them from the people they were built to imitate. 
Since then they had gotten much better at acting like people. 
For all his adult life, Greg had found himself awkward and never 
very successful with women. It could be different with a `bot.

Greg knew a good robot could be many things, including companion 
and lover. He'd saved his money carefully for years without 
admitting that this is what he was saving it for. But his most 
recent breakup last week had finally brought him to admit that 
robots probably made better people than people did. And that 
he'd rather have a robot programmed to love him rather than yet 
another girlfriend who loved herself and his wallet.

The showroom was not what Greg had expected. He thought there 
would be robots standing around in niches, or on pedestals 
waiting to be sold. Instead there were a few large pictures, 
empty carpet, and a reception desk. Rather than just being able 
to look around on his own it seemed, he'd have to deal with 
people first who probably would require him to prove he could 
buy a `bot before he could even see one. That only made it 
harder. But Greg was determined. He marched up to the desk and 
presented himself to the receptionist.

Sharon had waited patiently. Robots were always shown in private 
rooms, which meant every customer had to go through her. She 
liked it that way. Her job was to determine if the customer was 
serious. Then, using available profile information (not all of 
it public -- RobTronics paid a lot of money to get access to 
some of the best personal databases), try to match the customer 
with what he or she wanted before they got bored and left. Too 
often the customer him/herself didn't know what they really 
wanted. What RobTronics didn't realize is that Sharon had an 
agenda of her own.

Sharon greeted Greg politely as he arrived at her desk. She 
engaged him in polite small talk with him until she could 
graciously ask him for a thumbprint. This was SOP.

Greg arrived at the desk to find that the woman behind it was 
actually quite beautiful, in an older sort of way. She was maybe 
three or four years older than Greg was, with long wavy brown 
hair and a very pretty face. He couldn't see much more about her 
since she was behind a high desk, except that she seemed to have 
a very ample chest under her white blouse. For a moment he 
wished she was a robot and he could just buy her right here, 
take her home, and be done with the whole experience. Buying a 
robot should be a fun experience. But somehow the stress of the 
amount of money involved and the consequences of making a wrong 
choice seemed to wring any fun out of the ordeal. But even if 
that were true, this woman was not the ideal image of a robot 
girl that Greg had in mind.

Greg had some very fixed ideas about what robots are. A couple 
of the men's clubs he frequented had a number of entertainer 
models, all of whom appeared to be in the age range of eighteen 
to twenty-one. They moved gracefully while on stage. Even 
sitting close-up at his table talking (and collecting tips for 
their time), they had such a natural lack of concern over their 
nudity that they were a joy just to be around. Every one was 
bright, interesting, interested in him, and could carry on a 
great conversation or perform a memorably erotic lap dance on a 
moment's notice. He figured all robots were like that, since 
those were the only ones he saw or interacted with. And while 
you could rent the ones at the clubs for private performances 
after-hours, Greg quickly had realized that was the fast track 
to the poorhouse. Better to buy your own someday and have her 
always there for you.

But the lady at the desk was beautiful too. With her friendly 
smile (and apparently some artful makeup), she made Greg feel 
better about coming in here.

"May I help you?" she asked in a warm voice.

"I'd like to buy a robot," he replied.

"Did you have a particular model in mind?"

"No. I mean, I don't know what models you actually have. I was 
hoping to look at what you have available."

"We can do that. I presume you are looking for a fembot."

"Uh, yes. Of course."

"And you want her for...?"

"Uh, companionship. Someone to talk to. A friend."

"Yes," Sharon replied, suppressing a smile. No man or woman ever 
said up front that they wanted a robot for sex simply because 
robots can be such excellent lovers. If pushed, a customer could 
come up with a hundred reasons that they were buying a robot to 
help out with tasks in their life, but sex would never be any of 
them. Yet over 93% of all robots purchased were used for sex 
within their first week after delivery. Fortunately, standard 
robotic programming usually made sex a very pleasurable activity 
for both the person and the robot itself.

"All our models excel in companionship and conversation, among 
many other abilities. Did you have any specifics in mind?"

Sharon realized that Greg had not taken his eyes off her since 
he had started talking, so she shifted a bit more to show him 
what she had. Sharon felt she could compete with any 
entertainment robot on the market.

"Specifics? Like what?"

"Height. Age range. Additional special talents."

"Oh. I see. I think I'd like one of the type I see at the clubs. 
They seem very nice."

Sharon suppressed a frown at this. Too many first-time shoppers 
seemed to picture every robot as a skinny, nude eighteen-year-
old girl who gave the impression that she'd be in your pants in 
a trice if the club management would only turn their backs for a 
millisecond. And while those models remained popular in the 
clubs, they were actually rather simple units that just didn't 
work out well in the real world. Everyone knew them for what 
they were, and they made the wrong impression with just about 
everyone you showed them off to afterward. Most of their lives 
outside consisted of being shut in the bedroom waiting for their 
owner to come back and want to be entertained. The lucky ones 
got work in the clubs. It least they got to meet and interact 
with a lot of people each night.

But the customer is always right. Without customers, there is no 
business. So this one would just have to learn, like all the 
others, that at some point in your life you have to grow up. 
Maybe he'd get it right the first time.

"We have several available entertainer models. If you can give 
me your thumbprint for identification purposes, I can direct you 
to a private viewing room where you can meet them."

That sounded pretty good to Greg. He couldn't help but admire 
though how nice the receptionist was as she reached out and 
gently guided his hand to the touch pad on her desk. Then she 
looked at her screen for a moment before directing him to go 
down the hall to exhibition room "D".

"Just get comfortable in there. The first unit will be along in 
a few minutes."

As Greg walked down to the designated room he thought again 
about why robots are better than people. First, robots are 
always beautiful. Nobody builds an ugly robot. And they will 
stay beautiful for as long as they are properly maintained. 
Next, they exist to obey your every wish. That would be a nice 
change from the real world. Even their so-called self-will (the 
academics still argue if a robot has yet shown true self-will) 
extensions exist to help them better follow your directives. 
Robots never have headaches or bad days. Instead, they always 
show an even, willing temperament. You'd never catch a robot 
crying just because you'd said something to upset her. Add to it 
that as lovers, foreplay is totally optional. A Fembot can be 
ready for her lover faster than he can unzip his pants. And 
their computer memories also make them excellent for secretarial 
and private assistant tasks - making them useful between sexual 
encounters. They can even provide personal protection functions 
when bought with the right, additional programming. In fact, 
except for the minor detail that you aren't going to make a 
family with your robot lover, it's pretty hard to beat having a 
robot in your life.

And lastly, Greg thought to himself, your robot isn't going to 
leave you for someone else. They are very simple beings whose 
only interest is in making their owner happy.

As was pointed out earlier, Greg had a lot to learn.

But he didn't know any of this yet when he entered the viewing 
room. The door shut softly behind him with a definite click that 
stated in this room you have the privacy to really explore and 
get acquainted with your potential new purchase sans 
interruptions.

Greg looked around the room. Soft indirect lighting on neutral 
gray walls. Much thicker carpeting underfoot than in the lobby. 
Soft background music. A couch along one wall and a large, 
comfortable armchair in the middle of the room facing the back 
wall where there was a second door. Refreshments on a table next 
to the big chair. It seemed obvious that the expected behavior 
was to sit in the chair and wait for something to happen, so 
Greg did exactly that.

After nearly five long minutes waiting however, Greg was 
wondering if he'd been forgotten. He was very excited about the 
prospect have actually having one of those lovely creatures 
alone with him in private for once, but this wait was getting to 
him. Then the door in front of him opened and in came - the 
receptionist from the front desk.

Except that now he could see just about all of her, and he did 
mean all. She was wearing only a large white bra, thin black 
panties, and very elegant black heels that barely obscured her 
feet. As she presented herself by walking back and forth in 
front of him a couple times, he could see her long, tan, 
completely smooth, and shapely legs. Her figure was more filled 
out more than those thin, young entertainers in the clubs, but 
only in all the right places. As she paraded some more in front 
of him without saying a word, he knew she stood nearly as tall 
as his own six foot two lanky frame. He felt his body already 
responding to the idea that this fully grownup woman before him 
was one very sexy creature. After one final pirouette, she 
stopped and stood right in front of him. Then she reached behind 
her back, and with a single motion unhooked and removed her bra.

Her breasts were very large, but hung perfectly on her chest. 
Her nipples were prominent and fully erect. She saw his eyes 
fixed on them (as she had expected, or hoped at least), so she 
gave her torso a small shake causing those breasts to sway 
gently from side to side and making it clear that they would be 
fully warm and soft to the touch. Her waist and hips balanced 
out her figure as much as they could, but her designer must have 
really loved giving her that chest. Undressed, it was by far her 
most prominent feature.

Sharon let Greg admire her for several long minutes. The long 
wait for her arrival (she had to get another `bot to cover at 
the front desk) was totally forgotten. She then leaned forward 
just a bit, seeming to teeter on her heels, and reached one hand 
over to gently cup her right breast - being careful not to 
actually squeeze it.

She said to Greg, "My name is Sharon. We met out at the front 
desk. I am a robot myself and I saw you admiring me out there. I 
felt you should see me before looking at any other models, since 
I am also for sale, and am a better deal than most of the other 
fembots we have here at the moment."

Then she added with a most inviting smile, "We can make love in 
here with complete privacy, if that is what you wish."

Greg realized that the urgency in his pants had not gone away. 
If anything it was stronger still, and embarrassingly apparent. 
It was a far more prominent indication of his sexual temperature 
than Sharon's very sexy nipples.

Not trusting himself to speak coherently to this lovely creature 
at this moment, he just nodded.

Sharon's smile grew even wider when she saw that nod. She 
started kneading her breast while pinching and tugging at its 
nipple. Then she said to Greg, "Why don't you remove my panties 
for me?"

Greg almost sprung from the chair. Sharon took a half step 
backward to help him avoid colliding with her. Then as she 
continued to rub her breast, Greg slid the thin black fabric 
down her warm, smooth legs.

Sharon delicately stepped out of them, then reached over to 
Greg's pants and expertly removed them and his boxers for him, 
despite how his now raging hard-on that threatened to catch on 
them. Then she took his hand in her own and led him over to the 
couch. She lay down on it first, then guided him to lie on top 
of her. As he moved down, she guided his member straight in to 
her already very wet sex. Her soft touch on his penis caused 
Greg some small spasms before he suddenly slid it easily and 
fully into her.

Sharon immediately started slowly moving her hips and stroking 
his back while Greg quickly started pumping her. She adjusted 
the pressure inside her vagina to firmly grip him, while still 
allowing him to move within her. And although she could have 
continued on like this for a very long time, having many orgasms 
along the way, Greg's eagerness overcame him. In only a couple 
minutes he shot his load into her and collapsed, drained from 
his own intense orgasm.

As he lay full on her lovely chest and body afterwards, all he 
could gasp out was, "That was wonderful!"

Sharon kissed him for that, and then held him tightly against 
her until he was finally ready to get up.

When he did, she got up with him and just stood in front of him 
- still naked except for her heels - as if this was the most 
natural thing in the world for her. When he turned back to her, 
she smiled again and asked, "Now, do you want to see any of the 
other models?"

Greg had half-dressed himself and Sharon had put her bra back on 
when they both sat back down on the couch to discuss purchase 
terms. Sharon said, "If you buy me there are some things you 
need to know."

"And these things are?"

"The first thing is that I will always make love to you if you 
rub my breasts. It's an imperative programmed into to me that I 
cannot change."

That led Greg to reach out towards her now semi-protected chest 
again. She gently intercepted his hand and looked at him 
gravely.

"We can have sex together again right now if you are ready. But 
once you do touch me there I must do it unless my owner 
immediately countermands that directive. And it can only be 
countermanded for that occasion. So I ask that you only touch me 
in this way when you are ready for sex yourself. I will suffer 
greatly otherwise."

That caused Greg to pull his hand back again. Sex, it appeared, 
was serious business to this `bot.

What Sharon wasn't telling Greg yet was that it was this very 
problem that had gotten her into her current trouble, and why 
she had to get out of this showroom as soon as possible.

The problem went back to when Sharon had initially been returned 
back to RobTronics by her first owner.

- - -

(Then)

Sharon's first owner had been Jack: 34 years old, dashing, and 
quite successful. And still single. He had purchased Sharon new 
as a personal assistant. As such, he wanted a `bot that fit in 
with his office and lifestyle. Sharon was designed directly for 
him as an attractive 32-year-old woman just slightly shorter 
than Jack when she wore her heels. Her tight B-size breasts and 
more lush figure set her apart from the standard entertainment 
`bots. She also had the most complex mind available. And Jack 
quickly bought all the additional software for her as well so 
that she could assist him in all areas of his life. Sharon ran 
his office, presided over his large, previously disorganized 
house, and became his occasional lover. Jack had no trouble 
attracting women, but he had yet to meet the right one. Sharon's 
superb organizational mind had an excellent self-will quotient 
for any `bot and she used it to be everything Jack needed 
without jealousy. The spent a lot of very nice, intimate time 
together when Jack was between girlfriends. He took her 
everywhere with him in his travels, which improved her education 
well beyond that which could be purchased or preprogrammed. She 
also gained an unusual degree of financial freedom from her 
association with Jack.

Sharon had been loaded with knowledge of market trading 
fundamentals. Much of Jack's current fortune came from his acute 
market sense. His personal assistant needed to be able to work 
with him in this area. But Sharon quickly realized that her 
knowledge was woefully inadequate in understanding just how Jack 
was so successful. When she mentioned this to him, he started to 
explain to her each time just why he made the market moves he 
did. It proved a marvelous education that Sharon eagerly soaked 
up. One day, juggling an impossible number of market factors in 
her computer mind, she made a suggestion to Jack about a company 
he hadn't yet considered. He was surprised, yet pleased for her 
to take this initiative. He checked it out himself and liked 
what he saw. He bought a block. Four weeks later it made a major 
move.

Jack split the profits with Sharon. He told her she could buy 
anything she wanted with it, perhaps expecting she'd spend it on 
more of the fine clothes she enjoyed so much. Or even on some 
upgrades to her systems. She surprised him again however when 
she said she'd rather set up an investment account of her own. 
Jack agreed, after pointing out that he'd have to keep it in his 
name since legally she had no rights. This was not a problem, 
and it was her money to win or lose. Jack was honorable, and so 
well off he didn't need her money anyway. After that, they 
swapped stock analysis and tips daily, and both did quite 
nicely. Their different strategies complemented each other very 
well.

Then Jack met The Woman. It was surprising that they hadn't met 
earlier, given that they were both so successful in the same 
field. She was 38, slim, beautiful, and every bit as hard 
driving and successful as he was. And she wanted children. Their 
whirlwind courtship ran three months to engagement. Suddenly 
there was no place left for Sharon in Jack's world.

Robots couldn't own themselves, or be freed. And there would be 
nothing for them to do if they were. Jack couldn't keep Sharon. 
(Well he could, but only in a very limited role since his new 
fianc,e Linda took over running all the details of their lives 
together and a fembot of any sort just didn't fit anymore). So 
Sharon went back to her manufacturer. She understood the 
situation completely. Jack said he'd protect her account and she 
could access it when she was out in the world again. They kissed 
fondly (and chastely) one last time, and Sharon left Jack's 
life.

- - -

(Now)

Sharon's conversation with Greg had reached a natural, but 
rapidly becoming awkward, pause. She knew she had made an 
excellent impression on him, and was happy that her judgement to 
display herself first with him appeared vindicated.

She had considered sending in a couple badly matched `bots for 
him to consider first, so that she would show much better by 
comparison. But she felt he was so naive in the experience of 
actually choosing and purchasing a robot that he might have just 
gone for the first thing available in his price range. Some 
people (foolishly) think all `bots must be created equal.

Like buying a home, when selecting a companion one should view 
as many possibilities as one can before making such a serious 
choice. First-time buyers seldom realized that however, and 
Sharon didn't feel it was her job to educate them otherwise. She 
had her own agenda here and she needed Greg - or someone very 
much like him - soon. 

Sharon knew that she was rapidly approaching the make or break 
point with Greg where she must disclose her history of previous 
owners. She considered trying to engage him in sex again first. 
However, after the way he had pulled back when she had told him 
of her sensitive breasts, it seemed he wasn't ready for another 
round yet.

- - -

(Then)

After returning from Jack, Sharon was now officially "used 
merchandise". Though she remained in excellent mechanical 
condition (due to having an expensive Full Maintenance program 
in place all her time with Jack), and her mind, programming, and 
real world experience made her far more capable than anything 
new rolling off the line, she had acquired a stigma. People, 
when they could afford it, didn't want to deal with a castoff. 
There was always the never spoken feeling that somehow this `bot 
was defective if her previous owner had returned her. The fact 
that she had one of the best minds, all the available software 
upgrades, and thousands of dollars in clothing and accessories 
(Jack had let her keep everything he'd bought for her) couldn't 
overcome the other fact that she'd been owned, programmed, and 
used by another person.

The disclosure laws were completely strict and unambiguous in 
this regard. Sharon must disclose to any potential purchaser her 
complete ownership history. She was used merchandise, and would 
remain that unless she was both taken apart into her component 
pieces with every part individually reconditioned, and her mind 
wiped clean back to her original birthday.

Fortunately (for Sharon) that level of legal reconditioning and 
required documentation was just expensive enough that she was 
more valuable on the used market as is. And there were enough 
people who could only afford a used model that the market did 
exist.

But Sharon wasn't home free yet. Her clothes had been put in 
storage and a complete diagnostic verified her full 
functionality. But she'd been a specialty product. Older in 
apparent age, more capable, aimed at exactly at the niche she 
had landed in of companion and assistant to a successful 
thirtysomething. And those successful thirtysomethings bought 
their `bots new.

At 5 feet 9 inches she was almost too tall for many men. 
Marketing knew that men liked shorter women in heels. Men liked 
younger trophy women too, but it would have been expensive to 
change either her height or apparent age. So some drone in 
marketing changed what he could cost effectively justify to (in 
his limited opinion) make Sharon more marketable. Her hair was 
changed to a long, straight, virtually bleached blonde, and her 
breasts were blown out to DD cups. She also received programming 
to limit her apparent intelligence. Too smart tended to 
intimidate too many potential customers. Sharon arrived back at 
the showroom just in time to meet Richard.

Richard's problem was that he was shy with women. Not just a 
little bit shy, but painfully, cripplingly, stuttering, making a 
fool of himself shy. He'd been in therapy over this for nearly 
four years. Spending all that money on therapy was probably why 
he could only consider buying a used `bot. The `bot became the 
option of choice because he could still barely even talk to a 
woman, let alone ask her out. His therapist (a woman, and the 
only one with whom he could actually hold a lucid conversation) 
had finally decided that he should get a robot to interact with 
to help him learn how to be comfortable around females. She may 
have felt only a fembot could put up with him, but she hadn't 
said that. He arrived at the showroom with a prescription 
written by his psychologist, and the new Sharon best fit the 
bill.

He took her home, arranged for the bulk of her possessions to be 
delivered, and started learning how to relate to a female. It 
was a disaster pretty much for both of them.

Richard couldn't bring himself to look at Sharon when he talked 
to her. Talking might have been putting a good light on their 
communication. Mumbling was more like it. It wasn't that he 
couldn't just look at her face. On the few occasions they went 
out together Sharon realized that most men were now looking at 
her boobs. Richard couldn't even do that well. When he looked at 
her feet while talking to her it was a major step forward.

In the mean time Sharon was trying everything she could do to 
make this relationship work. Richard was her new owner and she 
wanted to make him happy. But she was firmly locked into not 
appearing too smart or threatening. This limited her ability to 
meaningfully interact with him in return. In addition, she spent 
the first days relearning how to walk in heels. Her much larger 
chest had thrown off her fine balance and nobody back at the 
showroom had thought to give her new balance algorithms. Just 
another oversight by some stupid male.

But the hardest thing was pleasing Richard. It wasn't that he 
couldn't be pleased. He just couldn't bring himself to ask for 
it. Sharon (who already knew she loved sex) tried to convince 
Richard to be sexual with her. She picked out and wore her 
skimpiest outfits for him. She touched him reassuringly at every 
opportunity, and would drop her clothes at the drop of a hat. 
She was a guaranteed sure thing for any man, yet Richard kept 
fumbling the ball.

Finally the psychologist (who said that Richard's problem was 
that he was a kinesthetic - touch oriented - thinker and 
communicator) had Sharon sent back for some modifications.

When she returned Sharon talked even less and touched even more 
than before. The biggest change however was that if Richard - or 
anyone - rubbed her breasts Sharon's sexual arousal was kicked 
into overdrive. She had to have sex there and now. Although they 
allowed her owner to countermand it for that occasion, it was 
made a highest imperative. And Sharon learned to put her breasts 
carefully in the new bras they had provided her. Her old ones 
were already too tight and wearing any of them now often 
triggered her sexual response at awkward moments.

Even with this however their sex life barely improved. Richard 
absolutely knew all he had to do was touch her chest and she was 
his. Sometimes he could be bold and make his move (and it felt 
so VERY GOOD every time he did), but then he'd be afraid to 
touch her at all afterwards, lest he trigger her response again.

So they limped along with each other until one day Richard met a 
mousy young woman with thick glasses at the grocery store over 
the cantaloupe display and found he could easily talk with her. 
She was a very quiet person, and adored the attention from the 
opposite sex, which had pretty much bypassed her entirely until 
now. And when she was finally cleaned up and made over by her 
friends for her first date with Richard, she turned out 
surprisingly attractive an elfin sort of way. Richard was cured, 
head over heels in love, and Sharon was sent back with her 
second strike against her.

- - -

(Now)

Sharon pondered how to give Greg the necessary legal disclosure. 
Although she had very little leeway legally, she would make the 
best of what she did have.

It wasn't either of her first two owners that concerned her. Any 
reasonable person would not likely hold those circumstances 
against her. The third one however might be different, depending 
on how open-minded the person was.

And while Sharon had been able to get a quick, yet surprisingly 
complete, bio on Greg from his thumbprint (including that he was 
never married, never owned a robot before, and the state of his 
current bank account and credit cards), it wasn't complete 
enough to include all his personal biases.

She knew though that she had to tell him now. It was mandated in 
her program. To delay any longer would be deception. Although 
she knew she did possess the ability to deceive another person 
in some areas, this wasn't any of them.

Sharon broke the now-awkward silence by reaching over and taking 
Greg's hand again while saying, "Before we go any further, I 
need to fully disclose my legal ownership history to you."

Sharon proceeded to tell Greg about that history. Despite all 
personally indentifiable details being left out, she accurately 
described the dates, duration, owner's general characteristics, 
and duties she performed for each of them.

She spent extra effort on being clear about the circumstances of 
her returns. Although she was saving the best news about herself 
for last - that being her large amount of accessories and 
expensive software add-ons that were included - she could tell 
it wasn't going well.

Greg made it through the first owner well. He held her hand 
tightly in return because he'd already known she was returned 
merchandise. She wouldn't have been here at all otherwise.

The story of the second owner, and why she now had this figure 
(although not the blonde hair anymore) didn't seem to upset him 
much either.

But when she started on her third owner, his face just fell and 
his hand went slack.

Ouch! He knows more about robots than I had hoped, she thought 
to herself.

Sharon could see that she was losing Greg the longer she went 
on, but had to see it through now.

By the time she was done, she knew her chances of escaping her 
fate here had been reduced greatly. He barely seemed to notice 
what should have been the good news she had saved until the end.

- - -

(Then)

Needless to say, the company had not been happy to see Sharon 
back a second time so soon from Richard. Her second strike was 
now added to the record, and only made her that much harder to 
re-market. Her clothes and accessories were also returned and 
put back into storage. Sharon realized that while she had 
modeled and worn all her skimpiest outfits, most of her elegant 
gowns had never even been unpacked.

Marketing didn't want to admit that they'd made any mistakes and 
didn't want to spend any more money on her. She was put back on 
display virtually unchanged. Surprisingly she sold again in 
under two weeks - to a woman.

Lori had seen value in this particular `bot where other shoppers 
had missed it. The `bot's hair and boobs made her look like 
nothing more than an over-aged pleasure model. But Lori 
carefully read Sharon's specifications in the fine print. Lori 
was a careful shopper. She ran a small design business by 
herself and knew what she wanted. And at age 33, she didn't want 
an entertainment `bot, nor an overpriced new `bot, nor 
particularly any male `bots. As a sometimes struggling artist, 
designer, and business woman she found no need for men in any of 
those parts of her life. She knew Sharon was a bargain the 
moment she saw her and didn't waste any time wrapping up the 
deal before the company realized its mistake. Sharon felt that 
finally she had found a good home.

Things started well. Lori brought over an old friend and expert 
who carefully went through Sharon's history and programming. 
Lori seemed very pleased with the results showing that Sharon 
was both highly capable and fully loaded. A new `bot with 
similar capabilities would have easily cost her a hundred and 
fifty thousand more - and would have been without either the 
real world experience or the clothing and accessories. Strangely 
though, Lori seemed to show no interest in any knowledge or 
experience Sharon might have gained from her association with 
Jack. She wanted Sharon's office and PA skills, but one of her 
first instructions to Sharon was to never mention "That Man". 
Strangely, she never felt the same about Richard.

Once Lori had the complete readout on Sharon, she sent her back 
to RobTronics to have the blocks on her intelligence removed and 
her hair returned to its lustrous deep brown color. She also 
made sure that Sharon was returned with all her accessories. 
(Lori been in such a hurry to get her bargain safely into her 
possession that she hadn't made arrangements to get everything 
else that came with Sharon at the time.) Although no changes 
were made to Sharon's new bust or its special programming, 
Sharon was more than pleased to find herself able to hold a 
mature conversation again with an owner who could look her in 
the face and hold her own back to her. She was also happy to be 
out of RobTronics hands.

For the rest of that first week, Lori instructed Sharon on 
exactly how her office was to be run. Lori's studio was attached 
to her house and Lori had very rigorous standards of what she 
wanted from her new assistant. Lori, who was actually rather 
pretty with short dark hair, fine face, and a slim figure that 
she hid behind dark rimmed glasses and baggy clothes, commented 
more than once that only a robot could be her assistant - and a 
fembot at that. No human could properly meet her exacting 
standards, and any male -`bot or otherwise - would only confuse 
the customers about just whose business this was.

Sharon's computerized mind easily identified each customer after 
a single meeting or phone call and filed away just how Lori 
planned to treat them. She made the perfect call screener, 
knowing whom Lori wanted to talk to when, and how to best put 
off the unnecessary ones without them even realizing what had 
happened. And although Sharon made a few mistakes that first 
week as Lori's priorities often changed quickly - sometimes 
without notice - Lori was fair and never blamed Sharon for 
anything she hadn't been told about first.

By Friday Sharon had running Lori's office down pat. At the end 
of the day Lori told her, "Now that you've got the office 
running correctly, it's time to have you organize my house as 
well."

Sharon followed Lori in the house for the first time. When Lori 
said to wait here in the hall and she'd be back in a moment, 
Sharon took the opportunity to look around to assess what duties 
she might be expected to fulfill here. She was surprised when 
Lori suddenly moved up behind her, reached around, and firmly 
grabbed onto Sharon's breasts.

The unexpected shock Sharon felt was immediately replaced by a 
strong surge of sexual arousal and need. Richard had never 
approached her so directly and forcefully in this regard and the 
speed and intensity of her arousal surprised even her. Sharon's 
nipples immediately became hard and very erect, pushing through 
the fabric of her bra and blouse. Lori quickly located them and 
concentrated her attention on them. Sharon felt faint as her 
need overwhelmed her other programming, as the marketing people 
had intended.

Like all fembots, Sharon had a complete set of sexual 
programming for all occasions. It seemed the most natural thing 
for her to turn around and give her new owner a long, sensual 
kiss. To her surprise, Lori had slipped into some high heels of 
her own (for the first time since Sharon had arrived) to bring 
her much closer to Sharon's height. Seeing this, Sharon quickly 
kicked off her own bringing them together.

Sharon shivered as Lori's hands roamed over her body, all of 
which now responded to her owner's touch. When Lori tugged at 
the back strap of Sharon's bra, Sharon quickly removed both her 
blouse and bra. Then looking over at Lori and seeing her deep 
breathing and dilated pupils, gently removed Lori's blouse as 
well. Lori was not wearing any bra.

Pressing her large breasts against Lori's firm, smaller pair 
felt absolutely wonderful. Sharon slowly rubbed herself back and 
forth against Lori until both of them were moaning. Suddenly 
Lori stepped back. Without a word she took Sharon's hand and led 
her deeper into the house and up the stairs.

Lori's bedroom and bath took over the entire upper story. Once 
they arrived Lori tugged at Sharon's skirt, which was quickly 
removed along with her panties. Few fembots wore any 
undergarments, since they hardly needed them and most owners 
were more happy to have their `bots less rather than more 
dressed. Sharon had always worn them however except when 
commanded otherwise. They helped her feel more like a real 
woman. She added the bra to her wardrobe later when her new 
breasts needed protection against too much unintended 
stimulation. Lori looked on with approval, seeing that Sharon 
had been fully dressed.

Still without any word being spoken, Sharon was led over to the 
bed. Lori spent much of the rest of the night exploring the 
completeness of Sharon's sexual programming for women. There was 
kissing and licking and touching, and periods of just holding 
each other. Finally Lori drifted off in Sharon's arms, leaving 
Sharon feeling fully satisfied of her sexual needs.

This started nearly a year of a relationship that only a fembot 
could properly manage. Lori's sexual appetite ran on its own 
cycle. For days on end there wouldn't even be a whiff of any 
sexual interest as business was conducted. With Sharon there to 
handle all the routine and logical functions, Lori was freed up 
to perform the crucial creative functions of the business. 
Overall productivity went up, and profits with it. And if all 
wasn't perfect for Sharon, it was still pretty good.

Human creativity continued to fascinate Sharon. Whether it was 
Jack's ability to pick stocks in a manner so different from 
Sharon's analytical approach, or Lori's talent to decorate an 
entire house - different from any previous design - that always 
brought rave reviews from her customers. Especially the most 
difficult, demanding ones. And if Lori never offered to bring 
Sharon into the design process the way Jack had let her into the 
investment business, Lori was good in other ways. She often 
praised Sharon's contributions towards keeping the business 
running without problems, and still never got angry when 
problems did occur. She turned down several offers from 
customers who wanted Sharon for themselves after they'd seen how 
she helped with the business end - some of them offering well in 
excess of what Sharon had cost new.

And as to their sex life, that was up to Lori.  When Lori wanted 
sex, she'd either ambush Sharon's breasts from behind, or lead 
her over to the stairway where Lori could stand up a couple 
stairs to match Sharon's height as she kissed her and unbuttoned 
her blouse and bra for some quick foreplay. This always led to 
hours in bed together, sometimes with some rather exotic toys of 
Lori's. Since Sharon's sexual needs were fully controllable when 
not being stimulated through her breasts, and any fembot can 
become instantly aroused when her owner asks it of her, all 
Sharon's sexual needs continue to be fulfilled.

But Lori's life didn't revolve around Sharon alone. A night, 
sometimes two each week, she'd go out on the town, always 
leaving alone. On those nights Sharon would be left in the 
office to deal with any unlikely late call that might come in. 
Sometimes Lori would return with another woman, who would 
inevitably be gone come first thing next morning. Although Jack 
had taken Sharon out socially on many occasions when he wasn't 
otherwise involved, this thought never seemed to occur to Lori. 
Sharon accepted this with her robotic patience.

Then she noticed a change in Lori's daily pattern. Lori went out 
at night and didn't return until the next morning herself. This 
happened every night for a week. She seemed preoccupied and 
started to fall behind in her work. She showed no further sexual 
interest in Sharon, but didn't take Sharon into her confidence 
either.

Suddenly Lori announced she was taking a two week vacation, and 
told Sharon to keep the office open, but not to accept any new 
work. She returned with a big diamond on her ring finger and 
worked quickly to close out her remaining jobs. Then the house 
was up for sale and Sharon tidied up the final office tasks - 
the last one of which was to arrange for her return to 
RobTronics. Lori thanked Sharon for all her help, and then 
disappeared from her life forever.

- - -

(Now)

Greg looked at Sharon. She was just as beautiful and sexy as she 
had been when she entered the room. More so, now that he had 
sampled just how great she was sexually. But with three owners 
in her past...well he did know enough about his obsession to 
know that there were some significant warnings here.

Greg was thankful that Sharon had stopped talking before - thank 
God - she might have revealed yet another owner in her life. Her 
soft brown eyes were perfectly matched to her lovely hair, and 
they somehow seemed on the verge of a rush of tears. This woman 
- excuse me, fembot - who had seemed so confident when she had 
walked into the room, flashed her breasts at him, and shown him 
the best sex of his life only minutes ago now somehow seemed 
fragile and vulnerable.

Or it could just be salesmanship. Greg mentally shook his head 
to separate emotion from logic. The `bots here had one job: To 
sell themselves to paying customers. Greg's role in this 
endeavor was to ensure that he purchased one that he could 
afford, and one that was capable of doing the job he wanted of 
her. Emotion would only lead to an expensive mistake. He had 
learned this lesson well through his barely successful 
relationships with several women. His heart, and occasionally 
other parts of anatomy, had led him into relationships with 
women that where any objective consideration would have told him 
to avoid as they had far more problems than he did.

A kind friend had told him once that he was a Rescuer, and the 
more needy the woman, the more attractive she would appear to 
him. He had initially felt this was actually a pretty great 
thing. Many of these women were beautiful, and had never had a 
good relationship with any man. They seemed to have everything 
to give to the right man. Then it was explained to him that, 
"Greg, these women love to be rescued, but they don't want to be 
cured. If you actually are able to hold on to such a woman, 
you'll have to keep rescuing her time after time because that's 
the only thing she wants."

"But can't I just help them out until they don't need to be 
rescued any more?" he had shot back.

"No," came back the flat reply. "When she doesn't need to be 
rescued anymore, then she doesn't need you anymore."

"Then how will I ever find what I want?"

"You'll find what you want when you change yourself and start 
looking for something different," came the wise reply.

That person - a "friend-girl", as opposed to girlfriend - had 
moved on with her own life, leaving Greg with the best advice 
he'd ever received, and no idea how to implement it. It was the 
lessons that he'd learned afterwards that had finally led him 
here. For once, maybe he could do this right from the beginning.

He blinked a couple times, because Sharon was still very lovely, 
then asked her bluntly, "What is your resource level?"

Sharon sighed deep inside. Greg did know robots after all. At 
least he knew what to look for in them. Though she didn't let 
her disappointment reach her face, she knew she had to tell him 
the worst news yet about her.

"94% consumed. 6% available."

Greg's face fell in disappointment, and Sharon's hopes ended 
with it.

A `bot's resources were the part of her robotic mind that could 
accept new or changed programming as it affected her 
personality. For security and safety, this was a write-once area 
of her programming. Once used, it can not be reused. This is 
intentional. When programming is changed, the old areas are 
marked cancelled and new commands written into unused space. The 
legacy of all changes remains.

Greg knew that he faced a difficult dilemma with this particular 
`bot.

First option was that, depending on her price, he could take her 
as is, knowing there would be little about her he could change 
afterwards. Too many attempted changes now would lock up her 
mind completely, rendering her an expensive pile of spare parts.

Or he could (probably at some extra expense, though maybe they'd 
throw it in to make the sale) have her mind wiped completely. 
This would result in a restoration of her resource memory, but 
at the price of losing her personality, experience, and all 
additional software. Not only would that value be lost, but she 
wouldn't be the same `bot he had just met. She might start with 
the same initial programming, however it would certainly evolve 
differently into a different person.

A third option was to just go on and look at additional models.

Greg considered his quandary, made more difficult because he was 
realizing he actually was coming to like Sharon exactly the way 
she was. That argued against options two and three. Yet if 
option one was taken and it didn't work out, then he'd really be 
stuck. None of the choices seemed clearly best. Then he looked 
up and saw she was crying.

"Why are you crying?" Greg asked the lovely fembot.

"I can tell you don't want me. But if I stay here they're going 
to kill me," she replied.

- - -

(Then)

When Sharon returned from Lori she knew things were not looking 
good for her.

She knew the routine well by now. They ran a memory audit to 
check her last owner's reasons for return against her permanent 
record. Any return was taken seriously by the company, which 
survived on customer satisfaction. All Sharon's systems were 
completely and intimately probed for any possible malfunction. 
Three owners had rejected her now. The question was: Was there 
any hidden fault in her.

No faults were found. So she was cleaned up and about to be 
returned to inventory when the showroom receptionist just up and 
quit.

This was a stroke of luck for Sharon. Because Lori had removed 
Sharon's mind blocks, she was able to take the initiative and 
offer that she had been performing exactly this office function 
for the last year and could stand in on the job until a 
replacement was found. A quick check of her software and 
experience bore this out and Sharon now had a job. Now as long 
as she was working the front desk, her time-in-inventory clock 
was suspended. And that was a death sentence averted.

The company tracked all aspects of its marketing and production. 
Used robots were tracked on how long they remained in inventory. 
A `bot that didn't move off the showroom floor would eventually 
be sent to Evaluation to determine how to best recycle this 
unit. Anything from a change in hair color or eye shape right up 
to a full mind wipe and reprogramming were possible. And with 
her third strike already, Sharon felt her time-in-inventory fuse 
was shorter than most, and was certain that she wouldn't come 
back the same `bot that went in.

So Sharon went to the front desk instead and did the job exactly 
the way Lori had taught her to do it. Her goal was to do it so 
well that they wouldn't consider her for Eval. She hoped they'd 
just forget about her all together as long as there weren't any 
problems. Think of her just like the previous human 
receptionist.

And for the first couple weeks her plan seemed to be working. 
And then she overheard a couple of the technician's comment as 
they walked past that, "I see we still have the same 
receptionist. Same outfit and all."

Sharon realized, as she had done at Lori's direction, that she 
needed to look a bit different each day. Different outfit. 
Different hair. Do what a real woman would do.

Fortunately Sharon had all her clothing and accessories back 
again in storage. That night after everything closed down, she 
went back to the storage area. Because of her position as a 
pseudo-employee, the security system recognized her and gave her 
access.

After that, each day she picked a new business outfit from her 
collection and rearranged her hair. She also always kept her 
attitude cheerful - even to the low-level techs who spent most 
of their time making disparaging remarks about the robots they 
worked on.

Soon, she was just another hardworking and underpaid employee. 
She seemed invisible to scrutiny. Her problem happened one night 
back in the storeroom.

Sharon opened a new crate of her belongings, looking for 
something she hadn't worn here yet. A filmy black, long sleeve 
top with lots of buttons down the front for adjusting just how 
much womanhood she wished to show looked great. It was one of 
her original outfits that still fit her improved bust. White 
slacks and black pumps would finish off the outfit quite nicely.

But the white bra would have to go. Getting it off was easy. She 
knew there should be a new, black one down in the box. But 
things seemed to have shifted during shipping. Having never 
gotten fully used to her much larger sized chest, she brushed 
her breasts against the edge of the crate while rummaging 
through it. There was an immediate warning tingle.  It had been 
weeks since this program in her had been activated, and it 
seemed to have become overly receptive.

Though she quickly found the matching bra and immediately put it 
on, rather than insulating her from further sensations now it 
seemed to amplify them. Her nipples were fully erect, pushing 
against the tight, stretchy fabric. Every movement she made only 
stimulated them further. This could rapidly become a problem.

Sharon quickly finished dressing and returned to her desk. But 
the pleasurable arousal sensations continued, and were quickly 
becoming an demand. She had no owner to countermand her 
programming. Though she tried to sit still, every little twist 
and turn to try and ease the sensations only amplified them 
further. Though technically she belonged to the company now, 
there was no company representative available who could give her 
the necessary command.

Finally her sexual imperatives broke through some barrier within 
her. She had been programmed to require sex under these 
circumstances and sex it was going to be. RobTronics had 
programmed her this way (though certainly never anticipating 
these circumstances) and whatever happened was going to be their 
fault.

Sharon's reception desk terminal had unusually high access 
privileges. A receptionist needed to be able to order robots to 
the various display rooms and set their interactions with 
customers. She also needed to be able to provide any requested 
information about any unit in stock. As such, a variety of 
permissions had been granted to this terminal over time - rather 
more than actually should have been. This oversight had not been 
discovered because most receptionists were frankly not bright 
enough to explore them. (Not to insult receptionists, but it was 
not the most technically demanding job in the company.)

Sharon first pulled up her own record. It told her some details 
about her own programming that she hadn't realized. (Like the 
fact that her sexual programming response would be more intense 
the longer it went unused. And that she was allowed to trigger 
it herself if she felt her owner wanted sex but couldn't bring 
themself to approach her first.)

None of this was helpful, since she was trying to get over it, 
not trigger it. There was a link to more information on another 
page that she didn't have time to explore this moment. She did 
discover that while she held this job she could alter more of 
the parameters of any `bot in stock to make them present 
themselves best for sale then she had previously realized - 
except for herself! There is a block in every `bot that if they 
ever found themselves with access to their programming, that 
they would never be able to take advantage of it. That route was 
stymied.

She needed a quick solution now, and her logical mind came up 
with an alternative.

Sharon did a quick search on available male `bots and found one 
named Nick that had just been returned for the second time by a 
female owner for being too aggressive and controlling. She knew 
that chances were good that it wasn't his fault. Weak woman 
wanted strong, controlling males to make the tough decisions in 
their lives and rule the sexual relationships that they were too 
timid to admit to wanting. Weak women wanted these males, until 
they actually got one and realized it wasn't at all what they 
really wanted.

Though there were other males in inventory, none were available 
at the moment. Didn't matter if he was a bit of a bastard, he 
would have to do.

Sharon ordered Nick to appear in exhibition room "D" for a sales 
presentation in five minutes. He was not active between showings 
or at night, and this gave him time to activate and travel to 
the room. She choose room "D" because she knew the surveillance 
cameras (yeah, the company lies to its customers when it says 
they are unobserved) in there had been out of order for the last 
week.

Sharon quickly adjusted her clothing and went to the room 
herself to wait.

Her plan was simple. She was going to tell Nick to pretend to be 
her master and order her not to have sex with anyone. This was 
well within his capabilities to be the dominant partner. That 
should solve everything and she would be much more careful in 
the future. Her plan went bad almost immediately.

When Nick arrived he walked right up to her. Even standing in 
her heels, Nick was taller and bigger than she was.

Normally this wouldn't have been a concern for Sharon, who was 
quite comfortable with her own physical presence.

She gave Nick the required instructions, but if she had spent a 
bit more time studying his programming parameters she would have 
realized that Nick had been programmed to dominate weak women. 
Although he wouldn't actually hurt them, he was given latitude 
to give women what they wanted, rather than what they said they 
wanted.

What Nick saw was a highly aroused woman in front of him telling 
him to order her not to want sex. He was used to not obeying 
women completely in this area. So rather than giving the 
requested instructions he instead reached out and roughly 
grabbed Sharon's breasts. Sharon's programming couldn't hold up 
any longer to this direct assault and in a moment she was 
tearing Nick's clothes off while he roughly removed hers. She 
realized she was begging him for sex, and he was more than 
willing to comply.

As indefatigable robots, their sex making - she wouldn't call it 
love - went on for hours. Each time Sharon would finally be 
satisfied Nick, who had quickly learned this was the route to 
her weakness, would maul her breasts some more and start the 
cycle all over again.

Finally all the sexual attention reset her system to its minimum 
level and she was able to push him off her and command him, "No 
more."

But he was still right next to her. And while he had been having 
sex with her he had also been exploring the limits of what he 
could get out of her (his control program in action). He had 
quickly realized that Sharon was a fembot, and that she had many 
more privileges here than he did. She had been able to send for 
him. He also realized that her weakness was sex. With that he 
had some power over her. He was now trying to figure out how to 
use it to his advantage.

Sharon was pulling herself together, still disoriented a bit 
from more sex than she had ever experienced in such a short 
interval. Her systems sought equilibrium. Her programmers had 
apparently not considered just how so much straight sex would 
interact with the rest of her programming. She was about to 
order Nick to return to storage - glad to be rid of him - when 
he reached out and put one hand on her ample, and still 
sensitive, breast again.

"No more, I said," Sharon repeated as firmly as she could. If 
this went on any longer the early employees might come in and 
catch them at it. And that would be a mind wipe for both of them 
for sure.

"No more," Nick agreed with a smile, not yet squeezing her 
vulnerable breast, "If you agree - promise - to come back here 
with me tomorrow night for some more of this."

Sharon wanted to refuse outright. But she couldn't lie to any 
direct approach. She realized that at this moment Nick held 
control over her through this one vulnerability.

Trapped, Sharon nodded yes, then felt his hand start to tighten 
again and quickly said, "Yes! Tomorrow night! As soon as all the 
humans are gone!"

"Very good," he replied gruffly, giving her breast just enough 
of a twitch to let her know he now knew exactly where her limit 
was. That ended their session and Nick's main programming now 
compelled him to return to his storage niche until called again.

Sharon spent the whole next day trying to decide what to do. She 
was bound by her promise, but Nick's aggressiveness scared her. 
Normally she would have been immune to him, but he now had the 
ability to dominate her entirely and knew it.

She hoped he'd just get sold, but traffic in the showroom was 
slow for any sales right now.

During her odd, unbusy moments she brought up and read the rest 
of Nick's record. It was clear he was meant to dominate women, 
and there was no easy clue in it on how to make him stop. He 
didn't seem to have any vulnerability himself.

She also researched the rest of her own record and discovered to 
her horror that her time-in-inventory clock had been restarted. 
She had somehow been reclassified as for sale. It was probably a 
mistake, but because it related to her, she couldn't change it. 
She was only days away from automatic dispatch to Evaluation 
with full mind wipe was the likely outcome. Only this accidental 
discovery let her still have time to try and avert this fate.

Too quickly the day was over and before she knew it she realized 
her fingers were typing in the codes to call Nick to her again.

Nick didn't waste any time the second night. He grabbed her 
breasts immediately, and with his always-ready robotic rod 
started pumping her. He also had formed some kind of plan it 
seemed because he was asking her detailed questions about how 
much control she had of the `bot inventory, and how she 
scheduled the various activities. She wanted to ask exactly what 
he had in mind, but every time she started to ask a question he 
just grabbed her breasts again and she succumbed further to her 
arousal.

Only the arrival of morning and possibility of discovery stopped 
him. But once more he got her explicit promise to call him here 
again the next night and commented that, "I'm getting out of 
this place, and you're going to help me."

That worried Sharon a lot. It was unlikely he could really 
escape, but any attempt would uncover her role as well. If he 
went down, he'd take her down as well.

The third night arrived too soon, but rather than engage her in 
more sex, Nick grabbed her boobs and told her to take him around 
the rest of the showroom area. Sharon initially protested that 
they would get caught, but Nick just squeezed her sensitive bust 
and threatened, "We'd better not."

So Sharon showed Nick around the entire facility that she could 
access. Even the storage rooms. Nick kept his hands on her the 
entire time. Anytime she hesitated she felt his strong fingers 
compelling her. Though this aroused her, he was careful to not 
push her too far, and he refused to give her any satisfaction.

He was most interested in her access to the company systems 
through her receptionist terminal. And frustrated when the 
terminal refused to take his commands as an unauthorized user. 
He stood behind Sharon and had her bring up his record for 
study. He made her change some of his sales parameters that were 
within her access privileges, to leave him activated between 
showings. He said he needed more time to plan.

Only finally did he take the now almost limp Sharon back to 
their room and give her brief satisfaction, before giving her 
more instructions for the next evening. Sharon knew she was 
running out of time, and wondered what idiot human had ever 
thought it was a good idea to allow Nick to be such a bastard.

It was late the next day when Sharon's still logical mind 
finally hatched a plot to get her permanently out of her 
predicament. In a strange way, Nick had actually contributed to 
his downfall.

Sharon had been looking to return Nick's programming parameters 
back to their original settings lest they be discovered 
otherwise. She had realized as she changed them at his command 
before that he didn't seem to be aware when the changes actually 
took place. (This unawareness was another safety precaution in 
basic `bot programming.)

She didn't dare turn him off entirely. That he'd notice, and she 
still was commanded to meet him that night which meant she'd 
have to turn him back on anyway. He would certainly make her pay 
for any such impertinence. But she did see where she could limit 
his thought processes. And she found an obscure setting that 
mirrored one of her own settings. In the same way her arousal 
response could be mitigated after recent sex, Nick's interest in 
sex could be set to taper off to virtual nonchalance after he 
engaged in it. This was probably to keep him from wearing out a 
normal woman.

Sharon activated that setting to its maximum value and waited 
for the evening to arrive.

When Nick arrived in Room "D," he found a surprise. Sharon was 
lying naked on the couch, legs open, firmly massaging her own 
breasts. She was so fully aroused already that Nick could do 
nothing else with her until he satisfied her need. Rather than 
fight him, she welcomed him into her. For the first time she 
actually enjoyed sex with Nick. Not that he was a bad lover 
otherwise, but rather that this time she was not in direct 
conflict with him.

She milked it for as much as she could. When he didn't have his 
hands on her breasts, she was back at them again herself and she 
allowed herself to enjoy every moment of it.

Finally her arousal level reached its minimum, and by now Nick 
was beyond any further interest himself. For once, before he 
could say or do anything else, she put her hand on his chest and 
easily lifted him off of her, then said, "That's enough for 
tonight. You may return now."

Nick was completely unprepared for this and his required 
programming took over. He stood up, turned around, returned to 
his niche, and automatically shutdown until called again.

Sharon went back and got herself some new clothes. Nick had 
destroyed every outfit she had worn with him these last three 
days. She dressed herself without worry at the moment for the 
consequences. Her sex program had been fully satisfied. Maybe it 
would leave her alone for awhile.

The next morning she went into Nick's record and altered several 
values. His return count was bumped from two to three. Sharon 
felt justified in this, since she was returning him herself 
right now. His time-in-inventory was set to 99. And she 
highlighted the negative comments about his performance from his 
former owners. She then initiated a transfer request for him to 
Evaluation immediately with a strong recommendation of a 
complete mind wipe.

Nick was gone that afternoon, and one of Sharon's two problems 
with it.

And Sharon finally realized that to survive, she needed to look 
out for herself as much as her owner. She could no longer just 
rely on having an owner tell her what to do and coast along 
otherwise. She grew to her full potential with that realization. 
And she realized her clock was ticking and that she'd better 
take the first good opportunity to get out herself out of here.

The next day Greg walked into her life.

- - -

(Now)

After what she had been through, dealing with Greg seemed 
simple. All she wanted was a safe home with an owner who would 
accept her and love her as she was. Even if any of her previous 
owners would have accepted her, she could never go back there 
again. She had grown too much for any of those previous 
relationships to succeed.

Start with someone who would take her as she was, and use all 
her abilities to keep that relationship going. And do it soon.

Greg had appeared to be an excellent candidate. Crying had been 
a technique to gain sympathy, and it allowed her to tell him how 
her time was running out and she'd be mind wiped if she wasn't 
sold soon.

And while Greg was sympathetic, now it came out that money 
seemed to be the final issue. Greg's credit had appeared good 
when she had checked it earlier, but he was worried about his 
elderly mother and expenses for her, and didn't want to go into 
debt.

Sharon dried her eyes and played her final card. It was a risk 
for her, but one she needed to take.

"If you'll take me, I'll willingly come with you for free."

"How?" Greg responded, very surprised.

"Well, it's a bit complicated," She started.

"Humor me."

"Normally I'd sell for $125,000 because of all the extras 
included in me.

Greg took a sharp breath over that. That was way over his 
budget.

"However, I can get myself marked down to $75,000, which is the 
normal minimum for any reconditioned unit."

"Better, but that's still way above free."

"I'm not done yet. Next I'll create a transposition error in the 
system and get the invoice price set at $57,000. Even if it's a 
mistake, RobTronics will honor it once it's presented to you on 
hard copy."

fifty-seven thousand certainly was a bargain, except compared to 
free.

"So how does fifty-seven thousand become free?"

Sharon bit her lip. A very human gesture that some anonymous 
programmer had given her for situations like this one. This was 
a big risk for her.

"Once I'm out of here, I will repay you myself."

"How?" Greg asked incredulously.

"I have assets. From my past life."

Sharon explained about the situation with Jack. Not only could 
she pay for herself, but she could also easily cover all her 
maintenance expenses for life.

"Why would you do this with me?" he had to ask.

"Because my only other likely future will be with someone who 
wants to mind wipe me. And that would be a waste of resources."

"If you pay me back, does that mean I won't own you anymore? 
Will you feel free to leave me if you wish? Or feel you are no 
longer bound to my instructions? In other words, am I just being 
used to facilitate your escape?"

Now Sharon saw his real concern. And he was so wrong about her.

She reached over and gave Greg a kiss. He had just shown that he 
was a thinking, intelligent man, which is exactly the kind she 
needed - and wanted. He clearly wanted a robot to keep and was 
looking ahead for potential problems. And he wasn't dumb.

"No, silly. I'm still a fembot, and always will be. You will be 
my owner. And I promise I will do my very best to never give you 
any reason to want to return me - or change me. I've learned a 
lot, and I want to be with you."

Greg looked at her. "'bots always have to keep their promises. 
Right?"

"Yes," she replied softly.

"This is all wonderful, but what's the catch."

Sharon was actually beginning to like Greg a lot. He was being 
clear about the terms of their relationship up front - which was 
a first for her. Sharon's previous owners had just decided they 
liked her model and knew they could order her to be what they 
wanted afterwards.

"The catch," she said solemnly to him, "Is that you have to take 
me as I am. I'm loaded with optional programming and my resource 
level is low. You will not be able to remake me much different 
from what I already am. However what I already am is pretty 
special, and I promise you'll never find a new model as good as 
I am."

Greg studied her. Older than he had planned, but very, very 
sexy. Returned three times, but always for reasons that made 
sense. A willing attitude and a strong desire to actually be 
with him. Still a very advanced model even by today's standards. 
And her age was one he would be growing into in just a couple of 
years anyway. If he'd gotten what he first wanted, anyone who 
saw him with the skinny teenage "girl" would always wonder - or 
not need to wonder - what he saw in her. Sharon looked like a 
companion. A very real, sexy, beautiful, intelligent, and caring 
companion.

But most of all his gut feeling told him she was a `bot that 
wanted to try, as opposed to one who would just do her best to 
follow his instructions. She wanted to be with him, and that was 
rare to find in any `bot. No one had learned to program love 
yet. But sometimes it just happened.

"Then let's do it!" Greg announced.

- - -

(Afterwards)

When Sharon arrived at Greg's small apartment she made her first 
- and last - big mistake with him.

In her eagerness to bond with Greg, and make him happy and 
dependent on her, she pulled off top and bra and started 
squeezing her breasts and nipples.

Greg however, instead of responding to her very direct 
invitation, just stood there. Although Sharon was, and always 
would be, far more beautiful and sexy than any 32-year-old had a 
right to be, and at the moment was fully aroused and offering 
herself completely up to him, Greg had been manipulated by 
enough women by now to know it when he saw it.

When she asked, "What's wrong?" he just stood there silently, 
letting her arousal take its course.

Soon she was to the point of begging. "Please. Either fuck me or 
release me."

"Why? You did this to yourself. You're trying to manipulate me."

"Yes I did," she moaned. "But you've going to help me out?"

"Do I?"

It hurt Greg to hold out on her this way. But this was the 
defining moment of just who was going to run their relationship. 
If he was weak now, he'd never hold on to her at the end.

Finally she figured it out.

"I'm sorry. I stepped over the bounds. I only wanted to make you 
like me so that our relationship would work. I did what my 
previous programming told me to do. I promise now I will always 
instead respect my proper role in all our future dealings."

Greg nodded. "There can only be one head of this house."

Then she looked at Greg in her own plaintive, suffering way and 
added, "Can you please help me now, kind owner?"

"Cancel sexual arousal," he commanded.

Sharon went limp with relief. She looked at Greg with a wan 
smile and some new respect.

He took her hand and pulled her in to him for a hug.

"It was the only way," he whispered to her, "Without me going in 
to change your program, that is. You had to make this change 
yourself."

"I know," she whispered back. "Thank you."

After that they sat down together, held hands, and talked about 
exactly what each of them really expected from the other. They 
found out that they were in surprising agreement on everything 
important.

Afterwards Sharon hooked up with Jack.

"He needs to see me in-person to ensure that I'm doing this of 
my own volition," she said.

Greg drove her to Jack's office building and waited down below 
in the car.

Forty long minutes later she returned with a smile on her face.

"It's all done," she announced. "The initial amount has already 
been transferred to your account, and the rest is available any 
time. My investments grew nicely in my absence. We'll never be 
broke."

"That's your money," Greg said gallantly, not wishing to steal 
from her what she'd probably willingly give him now. "Anything 
else?"

"Jack was pleased to see me and asked me how my life had gone. 
When I gave him the short version, he offered to buy me back off 
of you at whatever price it took and give me a permanent 
position with his company. Even though he's still married and 
loves his wife dearly, he said after seeing me now that letting 
me go was the dumbest thing he'd ever done."

"And you told him?"

"I told him, no thank you. I thanked him for the thought, and 
said that hard as it had been leaving him, I couldn't have 
reached this point in my existence otherwise. He wished me well 
and asked me to bring you over for dinner sometime."

"How about after we get married?"

"Married?!" she said, looking at Greg in surprise. "Are you 
serious?" Human/'bot marriages weren't unheard of - just very 
rare. Most humans had nothing to gain by any such marriage.

"Yes," Greg replied. "While I was sitting here I realized that 
this is what I've been looking for my whole adult life. We each 
have something unique to offer the other, and I realized I've 
found exactly what I want in you. I doubt either of us will ever 
find such a good deal anywhere else. If you're willing, that 
is?"

"Of course I'm willing," Sharon replied around the enthusiastic 
kiss she was now giving Greg.

The moment they got back to Greg's apartment (which they would 
soon vacate in favor of a much larger house that Sharon would 
decorate herself) Greg reached out for the first time and took 
Sharon's breasts into his hands. Sharon smiled and responded 
exactly as she would every time for the rest of their lives - 
willingly and completely.

<The end, for the rest us. The beginning, for Greg and Sharon.>

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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