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From: "DB_Story" <DB_Story@att.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} The Boxer {DB_Story} (M/Fembot, rom, ScFi, asfr)
Date: Sun, 10 Nov 2002 21:10:05 -0500
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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.
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