Message-ID: <39252asstr$1036980605@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <DB_Story@att.net> X-Original-Message-ID: <001901c28910$a4f077e0$22c65444@orovly01.az.comcast.net> From: "DB_Story" <DB_Story@att.net> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sun, 10 Nov 2002 16:26:48 -0700 Subject: {ASSM} The Boxer {DB_Story} (M/Fembot, rom, ScFi, asfr) Date: Sun, 10 Nov 2002 21:10:05 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2002/39252> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, gill-bates THE BOXER By DB ( DB_Story@att.net / http://home.att.net/files/Authors/db_story/www/ ) Copyrightc 2002 by DB. ASSM/ASFR (M/Fembot, rom, ScFi, asfr) (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.) - - - Author's Note: This story is part of my emerging cosmology about the evolution of robots into our near future society and the myriad ways we will learn to interact with our creations. Read it now, and be prepared. For more, visit my web-site at the above address. A special thanks to Gorgo his excellent and much appreciated proofreading. All remaining mistakes are mine. - - - It was a shock when Uncle Ted died. Yes he was seventy-eight years old, but he was energetic and could certainly afford the best in medical care. But he was gone now. The second shock came when I was told he left his estate to me, along with enough money to hang on to it. I used to love visiting his estate when I was young. He has a huge house, garage full of cars, pool, tennis courts, plus barn, corrals, and horses. Just all kinds of places to play when you're a kid. But I hadn't seen him since graduating college and getting on with my life five years ago. He'd given me the car of my choice from his collection. That turned out to be its own kind of learning experience. Now the place was mine. I had managed to keep that classic sports car I'd chosen running over those five years. I even avoided serious accidents and too many tickets despite some foolish driving. However, maintenance expenses and everything else taught me more about selecting wisely in life than any dozen college courses I'd taken. Now I felt like I was bringing it home. The car itself seemed to run better after I turned into the long driveway up to the house. James met me at the door. He'd worked for Uncle Ted nearly as long as I could recall, and had agreed to stay on for a few weeks more to help me get grounded in my new life. Uncle Ted provided for him generously in his will, and I didn't expect him to stay long. Nor did I begrudge him his rest-of-his-life vacation. He'd earned it. "Hello, Master Dave," he said, opening the door moments after I knocked. The voice and manner was exactly the same as I remembered from my first visit - and all the ones that had followed. "Hello, James," I replied as he stood back to usher me inside. A second glance confirmed that James was exactly as I remembered him: a man in his late sixties who somehow just seemed to be the perfect butler. When I was young Uncle Ted's house had seemed enormous. In some ways it still did. James followed discretely as I wandered through the house - my house - following no particular plan. Much was as I remembered, although a number of details were new. The house was always dimly lit inside, and you felt you should walk as softly as possible on the thick carpets. My favorite room has always been the library. This room is a full two stories tall, and has the classic ladders running along tall bookcases, and a spiral iron staircase up to a mezzanine level of even more books. Not all this space is taken by books. There's a huge fireplace with an immense stone mantel. Flanking that are a number of paintings and pictures of past championship horses Uncle Ted has raised and raced, along with a couple overflowing trophy cases that were as I remembered them. Newer trophies were crammed onto the fireplace mantel, with several bright silver ones I'd not seen before. If I stayed in this room with its immensely comfortable deep leather furniture for the rest of my life I would only be able to read a small fraction of the books here. The second floor of the house is mostly bedrooms, descending in size and grandeur from the master bedroom at one end down to a small guest bedroom at the far end, even that one with an immense four-poster bed probably worth more than I make in several months of work. I spent some time in the bedroom I always stayed in on my visits, two down from Uncle Ted's, but knew I wouldn't be sleeping in it again. While I'd been exploring, James retrieved my suitcases from the car and placed them in the master bedroom. I spent a couple minutes there just looking at the rear grounds from the large windows. The next floor up is the huge attic, which will be an adventure for another day. Back downstairs, I wandered through every room except James's private quarters off the kitchen. It would take me time to get a grip on my ownership here. Finally I walked out the back terrace doors. When James started to follow I told him, "That's not necessary, James. I just want to wander through the grounds a bit." "As you wish, sir." The landscaping on the descending terraces was, as always, immaculately maintained. I walked down to the large swimming pool, surprised to find it drained since the other fountains are all running, including my favorite very large one, a tier of broad saucers at the back of the yard. It made sense however. The pool probably hadn't been used in years. It was just unexpected. I'd ask James about it when I returned to the house. Below the terraces the even green lawns spread expansively. Even under the stately oak trees there wasn't a leaf out of place. I explored the equally huge garage behind the house, and was disappointed to find it empty except for my sports car which James must have put away there, and one old luxury car that was more limousine then car. Either Uncle Ted had tired of his car collection, or it had been given to other relatives. Finally I wandered over to the large barn and corrals. For awhile I stood at the white rail fence around the largest corral, one foot on the lowest bar and my arms along the top, remembering coming here as a child. There had been horses here then, lots of them. They were wonderful for a small boy to play with, since all the stable hands went out of their way to make me welcome. Now the corral was empty and only the ghosts of memories remained. I'd heard that Uncle Ted had gotten tired of raising horses as he got older, but this was my first visit since then. After feeling the warm afternoon sun on my shoulders long enough I walked over to the big door in the front of the barn. Pulling the door open, I walked inside. Many impressions struck me at once. The barn was as empty of horses as the corrals had been, though the faint odor of hay and horses remained to haunt the place. Afternoon sunlight shown through high windows and a few cracks, highlighting sifting dust. As my eyes shifted to the dim light I made out what looked like a boxing ring down towards the far end, along with some training equipment. And I caught sight of a figure dancing around one of the heavy bags just as it - she - saw me. I had a quick impression of a nude young woman of moderate height, long black hair, and wonderfully tanned skin dancing around the heavy bag, when she saw me, let out a quick "Eek", and darted off into the far dark corner, her long tresses flying. A moment later I heard the slam of the tack room door. This was all so unexpected that I just stood there in confusion. Part of me wanted to march down there, open the door, and get an explanation. A second part however warned me that I might be intruding into someone's private space like James's quarters if I did that. After thinking about things for several minutes (and hoping she'd reappear on her own, which she didn't), I decided it would be better to go query James about this first. At least he didn't run from me at first sight. It only took me a couple minutes to walk back to the main house. James met me at the door. "James," I said. "I though I saw a young woman out in the barn. But she ran away before I could be sure." "That would be Emily," he replied. "I should have introduced you." With that he accompanied me back over to the barn. He went straight to the tack room door and rapped twice. "Emily," he said. "Come out and meet your new owner." The door opened slowly. The woman I had glimpsed carefully came out. "Emily," James said formally, "This is Master Dave. You are now part of his estate." To say I was flabbergasted by all of this would be an understatement. The girl came forward and shyly extended her hand for a quick shake before pulling back again. Finally I got a good look at her. Pretty much all of her. At five feet and six inches, she wasn't tall, but looked well muscled. Her skin is a dark honey brown that looked like it had been lightly oiled. She was wearing only a tight black t-bar thong and light boxing shoes, yet even though she kept her eyes downcast, I felt certain she was not embarrassed by her nudity. Her smaller athletic breasts were firm hemispheres on her chest with flush darker nipples. Her straight black hair fell unkempt below her shoulders. Hardest to see was her face. But I could make out full lips, a cute nose, and the most exotic dark eyes I could ever remember seeing. After shaking hands no one seemed to know what to do next and we stood there in tableau until James finally said, "If you'd like to come back to the house, Master Dave, I can explain this more fully to you." I let myself be guided back to the house, and was soon ensconced in the library with a rare brandy from Uncle Ted's cellar in an immense snifter in one hand. "Your uncle," James explained to me, "Was always interested in competitive sports. He lettered in three sports in college, and raced both horses and sports cars in his later years. In the last years of his life he became entranced with boxing, and sold his other assets when they ceased to excite him anymore. This is an interest shared by a number of the other gentleman in this neighborhood, and they are all partners in a rather exclusive boxing club." "How long has he been doing this?" I asked, knowing I was a fish out of water in this type of world. "Several years now," James replied. "And rather successfully of late," he added, nodding towards enough silver on the mantel for me to start minting my own coinage. I now noticed that the new trophies all related to boxing, leading up to a gigantic silver urn in the middle. Then James dropped a bombshell. "Emily is his third boxing 'bot." - - - Now I'm not totally na<ve about the world. I know about robots that emulate people, even if I could never afford one (at least until now, that is). They've been around for years, along with fancy cars I've never ridden in, and palaces I've never entered. But I never would have guessed that the young woman I'd met a few minutes ago was one of them. And it turns out that Emily is not just any 'bot either. Like racing yachts and other gentleman's sports, boxing 'bots are constructed to rigid formulas to keep matches competitive. Although they can and do vary greatly in appearance, any advantage in one area is offset by disadvantages in others. "Your uncle designed Emily himself down to the last detail, and she has been his most successful entry so far," James explained. I asked a few more questions as the light faded before James announced that dinner was ready any time I wanted it. That night I sat alone at one end of the long dining room table that would have been more at home to a dinner party of twenty or thirty of my closest friends - if I had that many close friends. Eating this way felt strange beyond description. But Uncle Ted must have done it often, and if he could, I could. Afterwards I hunted through the library until I found I book I recognized as one I'd long wanted to read, and sat in front of the fireplace late into the evening with my book and another brandy. Finally I went up to my room. James had unpacked my suitcase and turned down the bed. It was a wonderfully soft mattress and cover. Despite my usual problem of not sleeping well my first night in strange surroundings, tonight I fell asleep instantly and soundly. That night I dreamed of a young woman boxer who won her matches the moment she stepped into the ring. - - - The next morning after breakfast I made my way down to the barn. James had explained to me how Emily trained there every day between matches to improve her skills. I was curious how a robot could "improve", but he was able to give me an understandable answer about how modern robot minds work in ways similar to human minds in terms of learning and creating more efficient pathways through repetition of exercises. Emily became a better boxer every day she worked out. Again Emily seemed to run away when she first saw me. But this time she quickly returned and gravely handed me a small control box with several buttons on it. James had clued me to expect this, and told me what I needed to do. I took the proffered box and looked at it carefully to locate the COMMAND button. Pressing it firmly I said, "I accept the transfer of ownership of this robot in my name, David L. Sikes." Emily seemed to freeze for a moment as she processed my command, and then said, "Transfer confirmed." After that I handed the control box back to her as James had told me to do. She took it and put it back away somewhere. James had told me I wouldn't be needing it for most day-to-day commands, and this way it wouldn't get lost or damaged. That was all fine with me because I didn't have a clue as to what I wanted to do with Emily. "Carry on," I told her when she returned again, and she returned to her exercise routine with the various training equipment. Emily didn't say anything more to me that morning. I guess she just didn't come with much in the way of social skills. Perhaps those would get in the way of her boxing. I finally sat down on a stool and just watched her. Emily was dressed - undressed - the same as yesterday. While she has an exceptionally beautiful and completely human looking body, there seemed an innocence about her. If anything, she seemed unconscious about her own considerable sexuality. This made her into someone more to be admired from a distance then taken close up. I watched her for a couple of hours while she worked through each piece of equipment in this makeshift gym, until finally she went over to an industrial-looking shower. This was really just a big downward pointing showerhead with a lanyard next to it, which she pulled to turn on the shower. After a quick rinse and toweling dry, she walked back to her room. Because she didn't close the door this time I followed and peaked in, only to find her lying on the rough bed there staring at the ceiling through unseeing eyes. I guess she was organizing her thoughts and optimizing her pathways after the latest exercise session. When she didn't move for several minutes, I quietly left and went back up to the house for lunch. That afternoon I took a swim in the pool. It had taken an offhand comment to James to have it filled and heated to perfection before I realized it. Service in this mansion of mine seemed not to be a problem. Afterwards I peaked in the barn again. Nothing was happening there so I returned to the library and my book. It wasn't that I had suddenly gotten lazy in life. I was using this time to decompress from the sudden shift to my new circumstances. I'm not the sort to suddenly get lazy for the rest of my life just because things had gotten good beyond my wildest dreams, even though I could do that now if I wanted. Late in the afternoon it finally dawned on me that I hadn't gotten any phone calls since arriving. This seemed strange, since I really expected to be hit upon by at least a few people once word of my new circumstances got out. James appeared next to me just as I was about to call him. It was uncanny how he could come just when I wanted him, and not be seen otherwise. "James," I asked. "Is the telephone working?" "Yes, Master David," came the reply. "I've not heard any calls come through." "I've been saving them for you until you were ready to deal with them," he said, handing me a sheaf of notes, each one carefully printed as to who, when, and what they wanted. I went through them and realized I didn't want to talk to any of them yet. Frankly I was pleased at how well James had handled this for me. Three names however I didn't recognize. I asked James about them. "Mr. Howard Tinnes is the organizer of matches at the Boxing Club. He will certainly wish to talk to you about scheduling future matches." "Do I need to do that, James?" I asked. "Not today, sir," he replied. "However, Emily is the reigning champion, and custom dictates that she defend her crown in a timely manner. A match is currently scheduled." "Who is Mr. Sal Pearce?" "His robot, Rebecca, is Emily's likely opponent, although he may be wishing to buy Emily from you instead. You'll have to talk to him to find out what he really wants. Your uncle didn't get along with him too well." "And Mrs. Gladys Witherspoon?" "Hers is the next party on the social calendar. She'll be hoping that you'll attend in your uncle's stead, since new blood around here is always more interesting then the same old routine, as your uncle would have said," James added somewhat apologetically. I thought over the various messages before asking, "Do I have to answer these myself?" "No, sir. It is quite acceptable to have your staff replies in your name. Would you like me to handle this for you?" "Yes," I replied, relieved at the prospect. I didn't want to make any social faux pauxs on my first complete day here. I told James what I wanted. "Very good, sir," he replied and left to deal with it. Later he announced, "Dinner is ready." As I was eating alone again I thought to ask, "Does Emily eat?" "Yes," came the reply. "By the boxing rules, she must extract her energy from standard food items. She is surprisingly human- like in this regard." "Why does she have to live in the barn?" "Your uncle felt it best focused her mind to her task if she had no distractions from it. It was his choice that she live there." I chewed over that for a while before making my first real decision in this new life into which I've been thrust. "It is my decision that barns are for horses, not people or 'bots. Would you move her into one of the spare bedrooms here in the house please?" "As you wish, sir," was his reply. Sometime later that night James moved Emily into the smallest bedroom. The one furthermost down the hall from my own. - - - The next morning Emily was at the table for breakfast. She sat at the far end of the table and didn't speak unless spoken to. And then only to give a concise answer. This made for very little conversation. I was amazed actually that a robot ate at all. That tells you how much I don't know about them. Emily has a fuel cell that can convert an amazing number of items to energy to power her. And while it may not have been the most efficient system possible, it was the one that met the Boxing Club rules. I would have liked to have a conversation with her. Get to know a bit more about her. I just couldn't think of anything to ask that didn't sound silly or irrelevant. Picture the following conversation: "Hi." "Hi." "How's breakfast?" "Fine." "How are you feeling?" "I'm functioning within operational parameters" "What's it like to be a robot?" Not the kind of conversation I could see having over James's excellent breakfast. Instead I just watched her eat and marveled again at how perfectly she appeared to be the person she was built to imitate. If I hadn't been told otherwise, I would never have guessed. One thing I should mention. Emily was not now nearly nude as I had seen her before. She wore some sort of white nightgown-type thing that came down to her knees. That was a good thing since I don't believe I could have concentrated enough on my own breakfast to finish it otherwise. When she was done, she gave me one quick glance from her dark eyes before slipping away from the table. When I asked James where she'd gone afterwards he replied, "Back to the barn to practice as required. She has a match in five days." - - - Later I did drag out of James - not that he was hiding anything from me exactly, I just didn't know the right questions to ask yet - that Emily was the current reigning champion at the Boxing Club. That big silver trophy above the center of the fireplace in the library was the result of her winning a tough match just three days before Uncle Ted had died. "It made him very happy," James told me. "Best I'd seen him in years." "But why does Emily have another fight now that Uncle Ted is...gone?" I asked. "She's required to defend her title." - - - For now, with nothing else to do, I soon trailed down to the barn to watch Emily workout. She seemed startled when I entered and started to come over to me. "Just go on as you were," I quickly said to her. "Pretend that I'm not even here." That was my first lesson in the literalness of robots. Emily did such a good job of pretending I'm not even here that when she was punching a boxing sled around the barn it ran right into me on the overturned bucket where I was sitting. No harm done, and I quickly revised my instructions to her to allow her to acknowledge my existence. Watching Emily practice was mesmerizing. She had again stripped down to only her thong, which I wondered why she even bothered to wear at all. Nothing was hidden. But she remained so unselfconscious about her very female body that soon enough it was hard to even imagine her wearing clothes. She was quick and balanced like a cat, and her practice session was as elegant as any ballet I've seen. I could see the attraction in just watching her move. It didn't take any effort on my part to know what made the Boxing Club so appealing to those who could afford the sport at this rarified level. I watched Emily until James summoned us for lunch. - - - After lunch I stayed in the house to deal with the business - mostly phone calls - of my new life. I confirmed in person my intent to attend the Saturday night party, although I had no real idea what it would be like. And I again put off dealing with Sal Pearce. I didn't see Emily at all in the house (James had taken lunch down to her when he had summoned me) that day, although given its size a dozen Emily's could easily have hidden from me here. A forgotten though kept nagging at me until it finally broke through. Again, as if by magic, James appeared just as I was ready to ask him something. "James, you told me that Emily is Uncle Ted's third boxer." "That's correct, Master Dave." "What happened to the first two?" For the first time I saw James pause before answering. It seemed as though my question was painful to him. Finally he answered. "Karen and Sidney, the first two boxers Uncle Ted designed and commissioned, were destroyed in the ring." I was astonished at this. "What do you mean, destroyed?" "Boxing is a tough sport," James said, as if lecturing an underclassman. "Your opponent is as tough as you are, and the fights continue until one boxer is unable to continue, or the requisite twelve rounds are completed." "But can't you just repair them afterwards?" I interrupted. "Not everything is repairable," he said mysteriously. I might have questioned James further, but just then the phone rang. Because I was sitting next to it for once and still had the habits of a poor, post-college student, I reached for it at the same time James did - and beat him. "David Floyd," an oily voice at the other end of the line said in a manner I immediately identified as "used car salesman". "A pleasure to finally reach you. Sal Pearce here." "Hello, Mr. Pearce," I replied, feeling trapped now into taking his call. "How may I help you?" "As you may know, your Emily is scheduled to go up against my Rebecca in next Tuesday's match. However, you may not be into the sport as your Uncle was." Sal was clearly a real chatterbox. "I just called to say I'm looking forward to meeting you at Gladys's party on Saturday. And to let you know that if you are not interested in continuing your Uncle's club membership, I'd be happy to take Emily off your hands - at a handsome price, of course." "I'll have to think about it," was all I could reply. "May I get back to you later?" "Of course. Just don't consider any other offers until you hear mine. I promise you no one else will match it." "I can believe that," I replied carefully. "Will I see you Saturday then?" "I'll be there." "Bring Emily with you," Sal added grandly. "I hear she doesn't get out much." The phone went dead. James took it from my hand and hung it up. Then he asked me, "Sal Pearce?" "Yes. I think he wants to buy Emily." "That would not be unexpected," James commented quietly. "Why is that?" "Sal wants the Club Cup," James said, with a nod towards the mantle. "He has sponsored five fighters so far without success. His current girl, Rebecca, has already been beaten by Emily once, and beaten her once under questionable circumstances." "But if he owned both fighters in the next match," I said, catching on to what was happening, "He'd take the cup either way." "You are correct, Sir," James said, turning and leaving me to my thoughts. As much as I tried to concentrate on the other necessary tasks the rest of the afternoon, my eye kept returning to the gigantic silver cup that meant to much to Uncle Ted and Sal. But I couldn't figure out how buying the match outright would be any victory to be proud of. When I finally admitted that I wasn't getting anything useful done, I went out and swam in the pool until I was too tired to think. - - - That night Emily was again at the table for dinner. And I was still tongue-tied. We passed the meal without any conversational exchange. I was still trying to think of something appropriate to say when she finished, glanced at me again, and slipped away. I was left angry with myself over my own ineptness. I stormed into the library and poured myself a large slug of brandy before James had a chance to come in and do it for me. He sensed my mood accurately and quietly left me alone as I paced like a caged lion back and forth in front of the massive fireplace. I wrestled with my thoughts for a long time, and refilled my brandy snifter more then once in the process. It was quiet, except for the soft crackling of the fire and the deep ticking of a grandfather clock nearby. It took me a long time to come to grips with what my problem is. I finally admitted it was Emily. More specifically, my problem with Emily is that I didn't know what to do with her. And I couldn't even begin to attack that problem until I got to know something about her. I finally sat down and tried to read, just to relax. After three different books failed to capture my attention at all, and even the brandy couldn't cover up my sore muscles from my swimming, I finally threw in the towel, turned off the lights, and went up to bed. As I passed the closed door to Emily's room I saw the light shining out underneath it. I continued on by down to my own room and shut the door firmly behind me. That night I dreamed that somehow I was the one in the boxing ring, fighting to keep Uncle Ted's cup while James and Emily cheered me on. - - - Friday morning I needed to take some painkillers before getting out of bed. I vowed to become more regular in my own exercise. I came down to breakfast just in time to see Emily finish and leave. I took my time - more then my time actually - finishing my own breakfast. Then I "decided" I should finish my explorations of the house and checked out the attic. I spent nearly an hour pushing my way around dusty boxes and covered furniture before admitting the obvious and heading down to the barn again. Once again time passed without notice watching Emily workout. Uncle Ted had been a true artist in her design. I have to say that I believe Emily herself also enjoyed the attention of an appreciative audience. More then a couple times I caught her glancing my direction just to be sure I was still paying attention. And there was a half-smile on her face now as she really laid into some of the training equipment. At one point she had me laughing as she shoved the heavy training sled clear around me with her punches, carefully avoiding me entirely this time. I might have stayed there all day and never realized it. Fortunately James is the responsible one here at the estate. He took me in for lunch. Then, with a gentle touch, stopped me afterwards when I would have immediately returned to the barn. "Master Dave. Do you have a suitable outfit for tomorrow night's party?" Of course I didn't. I've never lived in this level of society, and nothing I have to wear would be remotely acceptable. That afternoon James chauffeured me down to "a proper men's store". We spent most of the afternoon designing a suitable wardrobe for me. I felt like a mannequin by the time we were done. But they did promise that the first outfit would be finished and delivered by tomorrow afternoon in plenty of time for the evening. On the way back James took me on the scenic route, which included a stop at the Boxing Club. I hadn't known what to expect, and I have to admit that I was very impressed by the club itself. - - - The Boxing Club exuded old money. Lots of it. While James later told me that it had been a different sort of private club until just a few years ago, that didn't take away from the feeling that it had been here so long that Adam had probably left Eden just so that he could come here and be a member. Dark wood paneled rooms. Thick carpets. Overstuffed furniture. A five-star intimate dining room, and a bar that looked so comfortable that one would never want to leave. A wine cellar that would stretch even my new budget. But what made the club live and breath were the characters hanging out there. Old codgers who seemed to come with the rest of the furnishings. I saw now why James found it desirable to "improve" my wardrobe. By my standards up until today I was nicely enough dressed. My first reaction to what I saw was to want to cover myself and get out until my new clothes arrived. James, of course, wouldn't let that happen. And then there was The Arena. Tucked away deep inside. Close up seating for only a couple hundred Members and their guests. But before I saw that, everyone wanted to come over, shake my hand, and slap the back of the "new guy". I don't even remember what all was said to me. Everyone seemed to be talking at once and it all blurred together. I'm sure I had a dopey smile on my face as I nodded and assented to everyone around me regardless of whatever it was that the had just said. All I was sure about was that they were pleased that I had chosen to come to the club so quickly, and that they were looking forward to my full participation. James eventually guided me to The Arena. For now it was empty, except for a butch-cut blonde sparring with a dark-haired opponent, and a couple men outside the ropes on the far side. "Watch," James said. The blonde stood a chunky five-nine or so, with bigger breasts then Emily. Her opponent was a couple inches shorter. Both were naked and glistening. The fighters circled each other, throwing occasional punches. Though the blonde looked to be the slower of the two, her punches made me teeth rattle this far away. Suddenly she stepped in and threw a quick one-two combination followed by a roundhouse that staggered her opponent. The opponent tried to duck back and recover, but the next blow dropped her cold. "Very good, Rebecca!" shouted the fat man in her corner. I recognized the voice, and then it clicked. "Sal?" I said to James. "Yes," he replied. Just as I got confirmation, Sal looked up and spotted me. He waved my direction and started around the ring towards us. "Let's go," I said quickly to James and we ducked out. - - - That night was another silent dinner. But Emily was watching me now instead of just her food. Still though she ducked out at the end of the meal. I retreated to the library soon afterwards. That room has become my comfort zone. A few minutes later James silently entered behind me. He knew I wanted to talk, and waited with infinite patience until I was ready. "James. What should I do with Emily?" "Whatever you wish, Master David." "Can we dispense with the 'Master' part right now?" "As you wish." I paced a bit while James just stood waiting for me. "I know a lot about robots," I told him, which was almost true. I've heard a lot about robots. "But I've never encountered one as...specialized as she is." "Most everything you know about robots will apply to Emily as well," James replied, willing to let me believe he believed my statement about knowing about robots. "You mean she's not just a boxer?" "She's that, and a whole lot more," came the calm reply. "She can do anything any regular robot can do." I thought about that while pacing some more. Somehow walking helped me think. I finally decided to go get a brandy, hoping I wasn't developing a drinking problem, and turned to find James handing me a filled glass. Damn he's good. The alcohol didn't help me this time to form the question I couldn't quite get a grasp on. I struggled with it until James finally and carefully put me out of my misery. "Why don't you just go get acquainted with Emily," he said simply. "Right," I answered, taking a final swig before putting down my glass and heading out of the room "Remember," he said after me. "Even with her full database of human interactions, she is still new to many experiences." - - - When I reached Emily's door I stopped. It was closed, and there was no light showing underneath it this time. I almost stopped right there. I half-turned towards my own bedroom planning to take this up again tomorrow. But that last gulp of brandy, combined with knowing that Emily is a robot - my robot - reminded me that she probably wasn't sleeping, or worried about her Master's intrusion on her time. Before I could change my mind again, I quickly rapped three times on the door. Did I imagine I heard a stirring inside the room. I was still trying to decide if I heard anything at all when the door opened enough for her to look out, and I was looking down into her face. "How may I serve you?" she asked somewhat shyly. Startled, I gave the most correct response possible. "Can we talk?" I said to her. Emily nodded, and backed away, opening the door and flipping on the light. I entered a much smaller bedroom then my own. Emily was wearing that nightshirt again. It was just a nightshirt, but somehow sexy when she wore it. She motioned me towards the only chair in the room, and then sat on the bed herself. Even after seeing her effectively nude only the day before, my eyes were attracted to her bare tanned legs and pretty feet. Emily looked at me, waiting for me to decide what we would discuss. Finally I asked, "Emily, are you happy?" "Oh yes," she quickly said, her face breaking into a bright smile. I sat there again trying to think of what to say next. "Is there anything you need?" I finally asked. Her face furrowed for a moment, a face by the way that will never need a touch of makeup, before she replied, "No, Master. All my needs are satisfied." I sat there for a while longer before I realized I couldn't think of a thing to say. Finally I stood up and Emily immediately rose to her feet as well. I reached out to take her hand for a moment and she appeared to misunderstand my gesture. Before I realized what happened, Emily had walked into my arms for a hug. Of course I put my arms around her and held her in return. But it was the most awkward hug of my life. Neither of us seemed to know what to do next. We kind of held each other waiting for a sign from that other person on where to go next. Finally I shifted my weight a bit and Emily let go and backed off a half step. We both seemed to be breathing a little harder, and I realized I was reacting sexually to her nearness. I wanted to reach out again and just stroke her neck, but was afraid if I touched her again I wouldn't be able to hide my arousal, which seems completely one-sided on my part. Unable to think of what else to do, I turned towards the door to leave. She didn't try to stop me. At the door I was struck by a thought and turned back to see her standing right where I'd left her. "Emily, I'm going to a dinner party tomorrow night. Will you come with me - as my date?" I found myself saying, thinking as I said it that I should have said "escort", rather then "date". Again her face lit up for a moment like someone who has just been offered the best Christmas gift imaginable. Quickly however she seemed to realize that this was not the - proper - response for one in her situation. Her face want calm, yet still very beautiful, and serenely replied, "Yes, Master. I will come." I decided to take my victory and run with it. "Good night, Emily." "Good night, Master." My sleep that night was very restless. I kept waking up and reaching out, thinking that Emily had come to my room afterwards in response to some unspoken wish and was now in bed beside me. But the space next to me was always empty. - - - Saturday morning I realized that I really wasn't prepared for this party. Fortunately James knew this as well. He spent the morning and early afternoon coaching me on every detail I would need to know, right down to each guest likely to attend and all their preferences. While I wouldn't remember everything, I am a quick study for names and people, and soon felt I knew enough to navigate these possibly treacherous shoals. Foolishly I hadn't thought to mention to James that Emily would be going with me. Since he seemed to know everything else, I had assumed he knew this as well. Wrong! When I mentioned in passing that Emily would need to be ready as well, he quickly summoned her to the house and proceeded to fill her in rapidly about what to expect. Emily was proving to be even a quicker study then I was (that should be no surprise) when my clothing was delivered. Duh! I didn't have anything for Emily to wear. Just as I was about to panic James quietly told me not to worry. Uncle Ted had once bought a completely suitable party dress for Emily with the intent of showing her off himself. He changed his mind afterwards and never took her out, but the dress remained. One less worry there. Then it was time to get ready. James was shuttling between my bedroom and Emily's as he supervised outfitting us both. Then he left to bring the car around. We'd meet him at the front. Of course I hadn't seem Emily at all during all this. I went to her bedroom to get her, and was stunned at the sight that greeted me. Actually the stunning part was Emily herself. The dress was turquoise, which perfect contrasted her honey brown skin. It gripped her tightly at the waist, and rose to a strapless top that somehow supported itself over her breasts, while leaving everything above bare. Across the front was a spray of silver sequins, while below her waist it fell to her ankles in a most conservative manner. Instead of her boxing shoes, she had clad her attractive feet in a pair of matching turquoise high-heeled pumps. I didn't realize until she pirouetted for me that the fold of the skirt concealed a daring slit all the way to her waist on the left side. Either she, or James, had done up her beautiful dark hair into a lovely confection on her head. Emily's boxer's grace carried over to her ability to carry herself well in this very feminine outfit, and there must have been a big, dopey smile on my face because she was clearly responding to something she was seeing. She turned on her own brightest smile and swished the dress back and forth in front of me a couple more times just to judge my reaction. And she couldn't hide her own enjoyment at my positive reaction to all that I was seeing. Then just when I don't think either of us could have been smiling any broader, she threw a couple of her best punches at an imaginary opponent there in front of her. I burst out laughing at the incongruently of it all. Briefly Emily froze. She clearly was still very new to this type of situation and was working it out for herself as she went along, and hadn't expected my reaction. But only a moment later she was laughing with me. I wanted to say something encouraging to her, and I just couldn't find the right words. Finally I went over and just gave her a hug. Even this worked out so very much better then our last attempt. This time Emily easily flowed into my arms, and after a proper squeeze that said we're good friends now, she turned her face naturally up to mine. Even in her heels I still had a number of inches on her. The natural thing to do was bend down and place a quick - but not too quick - kiss on her closed, perfect lips. And I did just that. And Emily knew just what to do. She closed her eyes, pushed back just a little with her own lips, and gave me another small squeeze. At this point I'm not sure what would have gotten us out of that room except that I heard James's discreet toot of the horn to announce that he had the car in front waiting. Emily released me and stepped back to pick up her wrap. Then I extended my arm, not knowing quite what would happen. Emily came up and took it like a pro. I realized that James must have given her some intensive social instructions to help her get through the night without embarrassing me. I'm really going to miss James when he finally does leave. - - - During the twenty-minute ride to the party Emily sat chastely next to me in the back of the big car. I ignored the well- stocked bar, knowing I needed to hit the ground running tonight. First impressions are everything. Even as we sat there not touching however I was aware of the heat emanating from her. Not that she was malfunctioning or anything like that. Instead there is an essence she projects, along with a subtle perfume I'd missed earlier, but was very aware of now. Also she had managed somehow to sit with her legs crossed in a manner that opened up that slit completely to her thigh. When I noticed it, I quickly realized I was staring. Fortunately Emily didn't seem to notice. Her eyes were focused straight ahead and she seemed to be processing the events of the last few minutes to get them out of the way before the party itself. I looked away so that I wouldn't take advantage of her, and then wondered why I was doing that. Emily was both beautiful, and mine. But each time I looked back at her, all I could do was look at that sexy length of leg only a few inches away. I wanted to reach out and touch it, and at the same time didn't know how to go about it. Soon I was trying to look everywhere except Emily. I was very happy when we arrived at our destination without Emily catching to my reaction to her. I didn't think James had noticed either. At least not until he took me aside so inconspicuously no one else noticed a thing while Emily was arranging her shawl after getting out of the car. "Keep an eye on her tonight," he murmured to me. "Some here may want to take advantage of her naivety to improve their own perceived social standing." And then as I nodded he added in the same voice, "Emily will not be able to be comfortable around you until you are able to be comfortable around her, Sir." By the time I realized what James had said, he had gotten back in the car to move it along. I was in shock at how accurately those words cut right to my core. Then Emily finished and looked around to see where I was. I was still digesting what I'd heard as I quickly moved forward to take her arm again and escort her up to the door. - - - Once inside the evening was a series of blurred impressions. Does anybody ever remember these things well? We were both handed drinks the moment we arrived, and our glasses were never allowed to be empty afterwards. Emily handled hers better then I did mine (alcohol is just another fuel for her), but since everyone else there was subjected to the same treatment I was never much out of line. Our hostess is Gladys, and I was her prize exhibit tonight. The moment she met and understood Emily's position with me tonight, she whisked us both off on a whirlwind tour of the house and its guests. She did this with the efficiency of Emily running through one of her workouts, and I was grateful for it. I knew no one, and Emily only knew the men and their ladies who showed up for the matches. So rather then wondering if we'd be noticed at all, I was more concerned with figuring out how I'd eventually get back to all the people I'd promised to talk to further. Of course the hostess only had a few minutes to give us before other party duties called, but we were left in a good place by all her attention. I found myself gravitating towards one group of men by a roaring fireplace, Emily dutifully following. I'd seen Sal and Rebecca in that group, and figured out (correctly) that they were members of the Boxing Club who would be most interested in Emily and I. But before we got there, a group of four women swooped down on Emily and started to drag her off with comments of, "Hello, dear. So nice that you have finally come to one of our soir,es," and "We've just got to get acquainted." Emily threw one glance at me, but I couldn't decide how to protest and stood there watching as they took her over to a "woman's corner" of the gathering. Emily looked okay for the moment, so I turned and continued on to the fireplace. There I was roundly greeted and re-introduced to everyone, including Rebecca. I was happy to see her there because I had wondered about the social niceties of bringing a 'bot to such a gathering. It hadn't concerned James, but I secretly worried. Up close Rebecca came off as tough. It was more then the hard features of her face, or almost masculine tone of her voice when she greeted me while squeezing my hand hard in the handshake. She just seemed tough, and more at home in the rough-and-tumble talk of the men then she'd ever be over in a women's corner. I wondered what kind of lover she'd make, and decided not one for me. I already knew what kind of fighter she was. And Sal treated her as roughly as any of the other men. I had to keep reminding myself that she was a 'bot, and apparently people's manners around 'bots are different then those around other people. But the topic everyone wanted to know was if Emily was going to defend her crown on schedule. I told them that it was still on schedule - for now - and found myself having to turn down two other offers to buy Emily. Apparently Emily had impressed a lot of these men. Sal was not shy about telling everyone that he still had first option on Emily himself. One of the other men said, "We'd hoped to meet her tonight. Your lately departed Uncle really kept her tightly under wraps." That prompted me to look around to see how Emily was doing. And I didn't like what I saw. It looked to me like several of the other women had Emily backed into a corner and were verbally sparring with her. And I won't let anyone I care about be mistreated in that manner. Even a 'bot. Quickly excusing myself, I moved over towards Emily. As I got closer I could see Emily gamely defending herself as questions seemed to be coming from all sides. Her eyes were bright and glistening, and I just had the feeling that she was running in overdrive to keep up with everything coming at her. Politely excusing myself but not taking "No" for an answer, I inserted myself into the circle and stepped up to Emily. "Are you having a nice time?" I asked sweetly. "Oh yes," she replied, quickly focusing on me, but still looking overwhelmed. Taking her hand I said, "There are some gentlemen dying to meet you." Then to the rest of the women, "I'm sure you ladies will excuse us." I had the distinct feeling that they once they had their claws into her they didn't want to let her escape, but they really didn't have much choice in the matter either. As I walked Emily across the floor she seemed dazed for a few moments until her processing finally caught back up to real-time. Then she looked at me, eyes still bright, but somehow more relaxed. This time she was at a loss for words. Thinking what James would have done in this situation I just I solved that by telling her, "You're welcome." She squeezed my hand in return, much more nicely then Rebecca had. We walked slowly to give her as much time as possible to recover before I finally asked her, "Can you face another group now?" "Yes," she said instantly in return, impressing me with her resilience. "Good," I replied. Then added, "You looked trapped, and I was afraid you might have to start fighting your way out at any moment." Emily stopped dead in her tracks and for a moment looked at me with shock on her face. I realized immediately she had taken me literally and questioned that she might harm another human being. "It was a joke," I said weakly to her. To her credit she immediately got it. "This is orders of magnitude more complex then the boxing ring," she answered back. "I agree." The men did treat her much more nicely, at least while I was there with her. After that, together we went on to meet other small groups of people. Emily was handling the small talk fine now that we kept the interactions down to a couple people at a time. Then our hostess came back by and asked if she could "borrow" Emily for a little bit. I looked at Emily carefully. "I'm fine now," she said to me gravely. "I feel my mind adjusting to this new form of combat." I started to laugh in return, and quickly stifled it when I realized that our hostess wasn't in on the joke. "Go ahead then," I said magnanimously, hiding my concerns. With that Gladys led Emily off and I didn't see her again until we were called to be seated at dinner. As I was pulling out my chair Emily suddenly returned, her face bright with excitement. I held her chair for her, wondering what had happened. Like a little girl who couldn't keep a secret Emily quickly whispered that she had been introduced to the "nice women" at the party and had gotten along with them very well. She was very excited about being able to interact with other people so well because, although she had all the basic programming and knowledge of any 'bot, she'd never had a chance to use it before. "Even though they know I'm a 'bot, they all told me how nice it is that I came and wanted to know more about both my boxing career - and you." I shuddered for a moment, wondering what she might tell them about me, but she quickly assuaged that fear. "I couldn't really tell them anything about you, and wouldn't anyway," she said in a low voice. "But they were all fascinated about the boxing. I think there are more women fans then the men realize." I could tell that Emily was on a real high at the moment and felt happy for her. She was as excited as I'd yet seen her, and only calmed down a little bit as the meal was served. And that's where things got interesting. Talk was much more restrained at the table, interrupted often by eating. Seating was pretty tight, even for a table this large, which was bigger then the one in my own dining room. Emily was to my right, and ended up brushing my hand several times as we worked our way through the first courses. I thought this was just accidental contact until I reached down to catch my slipping napkin and encountered her hand instead. I was aware of the energy she is still emitting. And even with all the alcohol already inside me, I was becoming very aware of the beautiful woman sitting beside me. I again, this time deliberately, reached down for my napkin, and under the edge of the tablecloth out of sight to everyone else she managed to brush my hand. Okay. I felt I was on to her game and reached over to catch her hand. Instead my hand encountered her bare warm leg through that damnable high slit. A woman, especially one I'd only known a few days and was out on our first date with, would have jumped away and probably squealed. After that I'd be making embarrassed apologies for the rest of the evening while looking for a place to hide until I could get out altogether. I would certainly be the butt of the jokes for the rest of the party season. Emily did none of that. Instead, without making it apparent to anyone else at the table, she quickly shifted to push her leg right into me. Fortunately everyone else was so busy with other conversations at the moment that no one noticed what had to be my dead-giveaway expression. Having had such a blatant invitation I did linger for a long moment feeling the taut, yet soft skin that I had been sneaking glimpses of earlier. And it felt every bit as nice as I could have ever imagined it to feel. Then I had to pull away as the staff came to clear my plate in preparation for the next course. But Emily wasn't through yet. As she finished her sorbet she managed to drop her napkin between our chairs. She bent over to retrieve it, giving me an absolutely perfect view down the front of her dress as the top pulled away as if by magic for that moment. What I saw, in addition to everything I'd already seen for several days now, were that her nipples were fully erect for the first time. They'd always laid flat on her breasts during training and other activities, but now they were up, and much larger then I had expected. In a woman I'd know exactly what that meant. Emily seemed to take an inordinate amount of time finding her napkin, though she could have taken the rest of the night as far as I was concerned. When she finally retrieved it, she brought it up and modestly dabbed it at her lips, while looking directly at me out of lowered eyes. I pretended not to be affected, but I certainly had been. I didn't think there was anything else that could happen, until I felt her bare foot secretly massaging my leg. By now even I knew I was being seduced in the most highbrow manner possible. It seemed absolutely fitting, given the overall cultured atmosphere of the party. I knew that I could ask her to stop and it would end immediately. And I knew I didn't want it to end at all. While Emily continued the ministrations with her foot, and somehow both of us were managing to keep straight faces, I finally found an excuse to reach back down under the table. I easily found her leg again, and this time deliberately started stroking it. Again she pushed it nearer to me, which also pushed it further out of her dress. Somehow we both managed to finish the meal, playing with each other, and even participating in the various conversations around us. No one seemed to suspect. Perhaps they were all doing it too. At one point I did find myself taking inventory of everyone else's hands and expressions, and finding a number of them I couldn't account for. Afterwards we ended up holding hands, and somehow we just kept holding hands. Emily still seemed to be running at warp speed, but she was handling it well now. I guess she was finding a use for a lot of things inside her that had never found expression before. Before we realized it the evening was coming to an end and we were all filing out to our cars. Everyone was saying how much they enjoyed meeting us and how they hoped to see both of us again very soon. James was waiting right on cue and ushered us inside before closing the door and shutting out the outside world. Instead of sitting primly by herself, Emily pushed herself up against me as James pulled smoothly out of the large circular driveway. "I had so much fun tonight," she said as we passed through the gates. Then to my surprise, James raised the partition between us and him giving us complete privacy. What had seemed bold to do under the table was a whole different matter here in the back of the limousine. There the rules were well defined and nothing was really going to happen. Here, suddenly, those protections were gone. Somehow that didn't seem to worry Emily at all. Again for a moment she seemed to be catching up on the processing overload of the party. At the same time she managed to lay across most of the seat such that her left leg was again almost completely exposed. This is the leg I had explored during the meal. Seeing it, along the memories of how warm and soft it felt, was a powerful aphrodisiac. I wondered how Emily would feel about some attention to it now. The rigid front of her dress had also pulled a bit away in her present position, although I couldn't see as much as I had seen all too briefly at dinner. Without really thinking about it further I put one arm around her and let the other fingers trail across the outside of that leg. With no negative reaction I got a little bolder and was soon tracing her skin right along the edge of the dress. There was a soft bump as the car went over something in the road and Emily shifted her position slightly against me. In doing so she managed to expose what little of her leg and still been concealed, as well as give me a much better look down her dress again. Her nipples were still as erect as before. I was soon running one hand boldly over her leg while the other one was now stroking her neck. All of this seemed quite fine with her. I gradually worked around to the front of throat, and then started with little circled down the front of her chest. For a long time I explored everything above the neckline of her dress, still with no protest. Finally I took the plunge and slid my hand down to cup one breast and squeeze it gently. Emily's only response was to sigh and close her eyes. Feeling this was full permission to proceed, I explored first one breast, then the other. Both were as firm as I had envisioned them. Her nipples were very hard, and quickly captured my attention. As I first rubbed them, then squeezed them, she started making soft cooing sounds. After several minutes of this she suddenly shifted, hooking her left leg over mine and unmistakably opening the way to her womanhood. I approached her slowly and carefully in this area. A bit too slowly and carefully it turns out. I was just to the point of brushing my hands over the tiny silk panty she was wearing when our car suddenly turned in and crunched up my driveway. Moments later it came to a halt, followed by hearing the driver's door open. By the time James opened the backdoor, I had Emily's clothing fully back in place and both of us sitting upright. - - - The next thing I remember was James helping me get undressed and into the silk pajamas he laid out for me. It had been a long and stressful day, and I found lying in the soft bed very inviting. I was drifting away when my mind politely told me that in about thirty seconds I'd be past the point of no return. I had that long to do something, if that was my intent tonight. I wasted over half those seconds before finally committing to action. The lights were still on dimly as my feet hit the floor and I walked over and put on a robe. I opened the door and stopped for a moment listening. Only the ticking of the big clock downstairs could be heard. I padded down the hallway to Emily's bedroom and paused only a moment before knocking softly. She opened the door almost immediately. I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. She looked to me to give her some command, but I didn't say anything. Instead I placed my hands on each side of her face and tilted her head up to me for a long kiss. It was a satisfying, but chaste kiss, on her firm lips. I repeated it a second time, and the third time I opened my mouth slowly. She followed my lead, showing what a fast learner she is. Then I stepped back and looked at her. She was barefoot, again wearing the white garment that covered her from head to ankle. I reached out and quickly found her still-hard nipples through it. I rubbed and squeezed them, causing her to again half close her eyes and relax in my hands. Soon that wasn't enough for me. I unbuttoned her outfit and pulled it off over her head. She had nothing on underneath. Despite seeing her nearly nude for many hours, this complete nakedness in the bedroom was different - powerful. Emily stood there as I ran my hands over her body. Her pubic hair was a dark, close cut rectangle that I saved for last. And though she accepted and seemed to enjoy my touch, she didn't react differently when I reached between her legs then she had to my other touch. I stopped for a moment in confusion, and her eyes popped back open. She looked confused on what to do next. An epiphany told me she had never been approached sexually before. She didn't really know what to do next. "You've never done this before, have you?" I said softly. "No," she said, lowering her eyes as though I had discovered some important deficiency in her. "Then let me lead," I told her. Using my hands I guided her back to lie down on her bed and parted her legs. It took only the gentlest touch for me to have her respond to each request. Her legs were still over the side with her feet on the floor. Her skin was flawless. As I quickly removed my robe and pajamas, I considered that I should take her to my room. But the walk down that hall seemed too far for my rapidly rising urgency. I walked up between her legs. Starting at her neck, I brought my fingers gently down her chest and over her nipples on the way to her waist and finally down between her legs. I gently rubbed her outer lips which are as soft and inviting as one could ever wish. Even though my own hard-on was raging by now, I was slow and gentle as I finally gently inserted a finger inside her. Though Emily was moaning softly now, she remained dry. I gently worked around the edges of her vagina entrance without success. So close, and yet so far. Somehow my impatience communicated itself to her and she stopped moaning and opened her eyes. Her mouth formed a silent question. "You should be wet in there," I said. "Oh," she replied, and moved her own fingers down there. Only moments later her finger came out wet and her eyes closed again. I tested the waters for myself, and finding them warm and inviting, quickly plunged in. I felt like I had been waiting forever for this moment. The wait was worth it. Emily felt warm and smooth and tight all at once. As I pumped in and out of her, I could feel her gripping and releasing me in perfect synchronization. I love women's breasts, and reached down to again take hers, this time much more firmly. Hers are easy to find even when she's laying down. In return, she reached around my thighs to pull me as fully into her as I could reach. Working against her strength and firm inviting body was a dream. The most fantastic dream of my life. How I managed to hold out as long as I did I don't know. I just didn't want it to be over, and for a long time managed to keep it that way. But in the end Emily's sexy body had its way with me as I exploded in one long glorious burst. Emily arched her back and pulled me tightly against her at the same moment as we both yelled in release. Afterwards I collapsed onto her and just let her hold me. She bore my weight easily. When I recovered a bit I kissed and nibbled on her soft neck until she finally pulled my head around for a kiss that got me hard inside her again. As I said, Emily learns fast. Now having gotten her into my life, I wasn't going to let her get away again easily. I took her hand and led her back down to my master bedroom and put her in bed with me. "This is where you sleep from now on," I commanded her firmly. Her smile was her confirmation of my command. Twice during the rest of the night I woke up to find her warm body pressed against mine. Each time we made love again, and then held each other before falling asleep. - - - Sunday we stayed in bed together all morning. James brought us breakfast on trays without being asked. We explored each other's bodies completely and I learned a great deal about the sexual response of robots, part of which consists of an ability to be aroused on a moment's notice, and a surprising amount of desire on her part. It was a completely new activity for Emily, and she truly enjoyed it. We also talked a great deal. Emily possesses a surprising amount of intrinsic knowledge in a wide variety of areas. Though there are some curious lacks - like an appreciation of art - the more time I spent with her the more amazing she became. But it was what she told me about boxing that was most enlightening - and scary. What I remember most of all is that, tough as their bodies are, no robot boxer survives past five defeats. Victory literally involves demolishing one's opponent beyond the point of being able to continue, and that opponent is as tough as you are. "And how times have you been defeated?" I found myself asking, and wishing I didn't have to. "Three times," Emily replied, hanging her head in apparent shame. "Twice when I was first learning the ropes. And once to Rebecca when she used some illegal moves." Emily had looked so happy at how things were now going between us that I couldn't bring myself to ask her the logical follow-up of how badly she has been damaged. That afternoon we finally got up and walked the grounds together, hand-in-hand. When we reached the swimming pool, one wordless glance to each other and we both stripped and dove in. Emily took to the water like a porpoise, and even let me win the water fight I soon found myself in. That night James set us dinner at an intimate, candlelit table in the library. Emily had put on her only good dress again, and I dressed for it as well. You could say we only had eyes for each other. - - - Monday Emily insisted on getting back to her training. She kept telling me not to worry about her. "I can beat Rebecca easily," she told me at least a dozen times. "I know her tricks now, and so do the judges. And her design tradeoffs for strength and size over speed give me the advantage." "But what if they've improved her since your last fight." "That wouldn't be legal. And I'll still beat her. She's just not fast enough to hurt me much." I, for one, didn't believe Sal would play by any rule he could break, and Emily's "hurt me much" wasn't comforting. But Emily seemed so happy to be representing me in the ring that I couldn't find myself wanting to change that for her. Again I easily found myself just enjoying watching her practice. The difference this time is that every few minutes she'd come over and give me a kiss. And when she was done she took my hand and led me to a back corner in the loft of the barn where a remnant of the days of horses remained. Her intent was obvious. We made love there in the hay. I was still worried. - - - Tuesday morning was consumed taking calls from well-wishers about the fight. The fight itself wasn't until seven that evening. James suggested that we have dinner at the club that afternoon. Without being asked (which is how truly great service happens) he had found something simple, yet striking for Emily to wear, topped off with a wide-brimmed hat and dark glasses. It made her look absolutely mysterious, and even more appealing. I just assumed the correct outfit would be laid out for me, and of course it was. James drove us over in plenty of time for a leisurely meal and waited outside this time. The simple outfit Emily was wearing, if anything, allowed her to look even more beautiful then in her party dress. I worried that Emily's meal might not be right to eat before a fight, but the club restaurant, like any fine one, was able to serve Emily just the right mix of foods she assured me. We had a constant stream of admirers come by the table with their best wishes. Then Emily excused herself to prepare. Without James or Emily I found myself feeling rather lost. Not sure what to do I decided to trust to the restaurant and settled back with coffee and some rare port to try and reconcile my conflicting emotions. Despite everything Emily had told me about this, I just wasn't emotionally into this sport. In fact, I wasn't even sure why I was here. I though about that for a while. It wasn't for myself. The club restaurant was wonderful. But I could live the rest of my life without ever entering the arena, or seeing another punch thrown. And it wasn't for Emily either. She was the one about to get beat up again. Even if she won, she'd take considerable damage in the process. This wasn't a championship fight for nothing. And she didn't even get the cup afterwards. That went to her owner. James wasn't even in this picture. And while I felt nicely treated by everyone I'd met in my new life here, I sure wasn't doing this for any of them either. It hit me that the only reason I was doing this was for Uncle Ted's memory. This accomplishment meant something to him. While I was evaluating just why this would even matter to Uncle Ted now, a club steward quietly appeared up at my table. "May I escort you to the fight, sir?" As I said, the restaurant would take care of me. - - - As owner, I sat in Emily's corner. To my surprise James was there too. "Your Uncle Ted always has me act as coach and second," he said somewhat apologetically. I was glad he was there. Then Rebecca entered from the far side. As reigning champion, Emily had the honor of entering second. Emily came in after her, wearing a robe and flashed me a smile as she climbed into the ring to meet Rebecca. Both took off their robes to reveal that they only wore the t- bars for fighting. And both of them had oiled their skin so that it gleamed under the bright lights. "Why?" I asked James, referring to the to shiny skin. "It helps any glancing blow to slide off without damage," he replied. That made sense. Emily and Rebecca then were introduced, touched gloves to each other, and came to their respective corners. James made a quick check to ensure that her gloves were tied tightly, and to my surprise Emily give me a quick kiss. I had thought this would be all business for her. Then the bell clanged and Emily moved into the ring. "Be careful!" I shouted over the crowd noise. The arena was fully packed, and everyone sounded enthusiastic. The noise was already deafening. - - - The fight went by like a blur for me. Emily, as she had assured me, was faster and lighter on her feet then her larger opponent. But occasionally when they would come together solid blows were exchanged on both sides. I realized that I kept holding my breath, but each time they really swung at each other Emily would dance away apparently unscathed. A couple times Emily would see some imperceptible opening and flow in to quickly land double and triple combinations that staggered her opponent. But at no time did the fight look to be over. As the fight continued, I noticed Sal intently talking to Rebecca between every round. I wondered if I was supposed to advise Emily as well. But how? She knew more about what she was doing then I ever would. Once Emily did knock Rebecca to the ring floor. But she rose as if it was nothing and continued. Then disaster struck. Some of the oil on Rebecca's skin must have come off while she was down because as Emily was forced to circle through the area where Rebecca had lain, she slipped. It wasn't a huge slip, but Rebecca darted in immediately and pummeled Emily to the mat. And then as the referee broke it up, Rebecca managed to get in a vicious, completely illegal, kick. Though sent to her corner and penalized that round, that wouldn't hurt Rebecca enough if she won by a knockout before the end. I was sure Emily was slower getting up then before. The round ended there and Emily insisted she was fine and fully ready to continue. I was wrestling with myself whether to call it off right there without a decision when the bell clanged to start the next round. I watched Emily with eagle eyes. She had taken damage and was slower, but so was Rebecca. Rebecca tried the same trick a second time. However this time Emily not only avoided it, but counterattacked, landing a pair of solid blows to Rebecca's chest that literally drove her back across the ring. Rebecca was clearly moving more slowly now. I'm hoping this means it is almost over. Emily circled cautiously, throwing testing blows without fully committing. Rebecca moved slower and slower, giving me an idea of just how much damage this sport causes its participants. Emily edged closer for the kill, when Rebecca suddenly exploded into action. Whether she'd been faking, or had some secret reserve of strength, I didn't know. She clearly went for broke. Rebecca started by literally running over Emily. Emily got in at least two outstanding punches that I saw before she was bowled over by the bigger 'bot. Then Rebecca spun around and landed several blows after Emily was down before she could be dragged off. I looked on in horror as Emily didn't rise at first. It may have been defensive to be sure it was clear before she made any move that could leave her vulnerable, but that time stretched on forever for me. Finally Emily rose up, but clearly her right leg was injured. Rebecca had suffered greatly in her go-for-broke attack as well, but I only had eyes for Emily. As Emily turned to face her opponent again I shouted, "EMILY!" She turned just enough to flash me a high sign, indicating her ability and spirit to continue. And she may still have had that spirit - but I didn't. This was absurd. I grabbed for the towel, and found James holding the other end of it. For a long moment we looked at each other before he said, "Are you certain, sir?" "Damn right I'm certain!" I actually snarled back. "Uncle Ted's pride is just a big hunk of silver. Nothing else. Emily is worth much more then that." James let me have the towel and I heaved it into the ring. - - - Emily was immediately taken to repair to ensure that any damage wouldn't propagate. We only had time for brief words before they carried her away and James told me I shouldn't follow. "I could have taken her," Emily said in a voice and manner that told me she felt she'd failed me. I touched her cheek gently and said, "Emily, you're worth more to me then every trophy in existence." Hearing that she closed her eyes, but there was a faint smile on her face. - - - Emily officially retired that night. Sal got the cup he wanted so badly, and I didn't care. I had James put a huge vase in its space on the mantle, and new flowers went in there every day. Emily was fully repaired, and I told her she would never be put in danger again as long as I lived. No one else in our social group ever even mentioned the method of her retirement, which was good for them. In addition to being my lover, Emily insisted that she was also my bodyguard. How good she was at that I never needed to find out. I continued my active membership at the club, and Emily and I often enjoyed the excellent meals and service there. I had thought we would be ostracized due to the way I had ended the match, but instead Emily remained very regarded as a former champion. It turns out that the crowd didn't feel the need to witness the complete destruction of either opponent. Emily made many friends there now that she was so much more approachable then before. We started attending matches as spectators only. Emily's outstanding knowledge and commentary on the sport ended up making it enjoyable for me as well. Soon we found ourselves giving a temporary home to other "retired" boxers who had outlived their usefulness. I would find all of them delightful to know. And it made the big house and grounds feel far less empty when there were two or three lovely fembots wandering around, exploring their long repressed feminine sides. Given how well Emily's and my relationship was working out, finding homes for these 'bot with people who appreciated them for other then their boxing skills proved surprisingly easy. Soon we had a permanent waiting list of people waiting to adopt them. My biggest surprise though came a week or so after Emily's retirement. James came up to me with Emily's remote control and handed it to me. "Why do I need this?" I asked, since Emily willingly followed even the smallest requests of mine without the need to resort to this form of control over her. "This one is for me, sir." I was, to put it politely, stunned. "You're a robot, James?" "Yes sir." "But how?" "Just like any other 'bot, sir. Your Uncle Ted designed more then just boxers." "But when they read me Uncle Ted's will, they told me you would be leaving soon." "That was an option your uncle allowed to me in return for my loyal service to him." "But now you want to stay, and be owned by me?" "If you'll have me." "Of course I'll have you. You're wonderful. Irreplaceable. I didn't know what I was going to do when you left. But what's in it for you?" "It is how you think of, and treat, Emily," he said, showing as much emotion as I would ever see out of him. "It's a rare man who accepts a 'bot as an equal partner and valued being." I didn't know what to say to that, so I just took his remote and accepted James into our family. <end> -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+