Girls and Dolls

There seem to be two main tropes for fembot stories: the man who falls in love with a robot because real women don't like him, and the man who wants to be transformed into a fembot. This fembot story is neither of these.

Every so often the media picks up on the story that "The sex bots are coming!" Dum-dum-dummmmm! Cue pundits declaring that humans might fall in love with machines, that real world dating will end forever, and the inevitable cry from certain quarters for sex robots to be banned, or at least be given the right of consent - yeah, and next week let's give toasters the right to vote.

The raw sexy bit of this story is in the middle, but for the rest I wanted to take a much more sane approach to exploring the concept of robot sex dolls through the eyes of a young male. I also have a very raw second part which I might also share at a later date.

No I don't think the robo sex apocalypse is coming. Just a lot of fun!

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The date had sucked.

As the doors closed and rode the elevator up to my apartment I was able to reflect on how things had gone. It wasn't as though the girl hadn't been keen, and she had certainly been hot, and yet I had decided to wish her a good evening and made the short walk back to my apartment building. I had alternative plans waiting for me at home.

You never know quite what you are going to get when you approach a girl. I had moved to live in Haven city, leaving my quiet backwater of a home to live in the system's greatest metropolis, and I was discovering that the women here were very friendly and receptive to being approached by a complete stranger. It wasn't just that they found my off-worlder accent exotic either, it was that I was willing to put my ass on the line and risk rejection. Havenite men, it seemed, were rarely so bold.

Approaching women can be a bit of a numbers game because realistically most aren't in a position to say yes, but this girl had been a typical yes girl. I had been walking along the busy street on my way home from work when she had come flowing past in the opposite direction, a dynamic vision of high heeled boots and trousers, close fitted jacket and long streaming blonde hair, her expression serious and distant. I had needed to run to overtake and stop her, and snapping her out of her commuter's trance and into the present took a bit of persistence, but once she started leaning into the conversation and smiling she hadn't stopped. I had really liked her energy, and sure enough I had come away with her contact details.

Meeting her had been a success, but the date had been a disaster. For starters she had been late, fine by itself and made up for by the fact she had definitely dressed well. However, as I had I told her about my recent travels around the planet and how fascinated I was by the geography of a world that had only been made hospitable to life about a century earlier her expression had been blank. History, philosophy, books, all drew a blank. I had asked her about what she had been up to recently, started to get an appreciation of the sort of life that she lived, and to my disappointment it really wasn't attractive to me at all. As far as I could tell her life apart from her office job seemed to consist of hanging out in bars and nightclubs and a lot of drinking. There was no connection and I was feeling a lot less attracted to her.

The moment that the date had ended for me what happened when she made it clear that it was for me to get the second round of drinks. I had got the first round and when I pointed out to little miss career girl, teasingly but firmly, that it was now her turn she had tried to press her case by leaning in to me, going for a kiss. She was hot, and she certainly knew how to flirt; I was aroused, but trading my money for a girl's affection didn't interest me at all.

She didn't get her kiss and we didn't get any more drinks. I was inclined to end the date, but I kept it going for a while longer because the subject of conversation had moved on to something I found interesting. I was curious why she had wanted to come out with me and it turned out that she had found me interesting, and she was frustrated with the kind of men she was meeting in nightclubs. It seemed that those men were much more taken with the robot dancers that were appearing in some of the higher end clubs around the City.

I had heard of these robots; by all accounts some of the higher end clubs were using them to make their dance floors look busier and more attractive on average. It was a very effective way to leverage the crowd psychology within the venue to get a better atmosphere and more business through the door. The robots were inhumanly well proportioned, infinitely skilled, precise and alluring as dancers and totally willing to get close to and grind up against anyone who cared to get near them.

A totally unrealistic standard of beauty my date had declared.

Standing in my elevator I was still turned on from having been so physically close to in real terms what had been a very attractive young woman, but also, as it happened, the previous topic of robot girls. Humanoid robot technology is one of those things that has been around for quite a while, but has undergone a bit of re-invention in the last few years. Certainly the technology to build mobile autonomous robots in a human shape has been around for decades, especially on Haven. The ability to build machines that would look and feel convincingly human was never quite realised for a long time however.

Then a few years ago the efforts of a small startup company had busted the myth that faux-humans were a prohibitively difficult technology and now the big tech players had jumped on the bandwagon it seemed that that they were everywhere. In many places they were taking on roles that had previously been taken on by faceless service interfaces, such as check-in desks and food servers, but very quickly they had also taken on other roles that had been the sole preserve of humans. The indignation of my date earlier that evening had been a testament to this; robot nightclub dancers was certainly a novel use for this new technology.

I could wax lyrical about my self-declared emotional depth, intelligence and maturity, but the fact of the matter was that like all men the manifestation of feminine perfection in those robots turned me on. It was, after all, what they were designed to do, and after a recent purchase I had made I had first hand experience.

By the time my apartment door had closed on my heels there was only one thing on my mind. I walked directly to my bedroom and, opening my wardrobe, I pulled out my doll and threw it onto the bed.

"Activate"

Perhaps the most visually impressive feature of the doll was watching it deploy out of its storage mode. It was black and mostly composed of a narrow rectangular box that would become its body, with its limbs contracted to straight cylinders folded up along its sides and a simple sphere on the top that would become its head. As the limbs folded out in a most inhuman fashion the real magic began to occur. The black rubber foam-like material covering the doll began to expand immediately reshaping the outline from something box-like and mechanical to something undeniably feminine. The black surface took on the contours of muscles and bones beneath skin as a slender waist, toned abdomen and small but beautifully sculpted breasts emerged.

Whilst this was happening the most astonishing changes were happening to the head. It started out as a simple sphere but as the neck extended it began to grow and morph into a much more human shape. A dense growth of hair, as black as the doll's skin material flowed out from the scalp down beyond the doll's shoulders. Full and sensuous lips flowed into shape as the mouth appeared below a small and elegant nose and closed eyelids.

Then the colour changed turning the skin from a black featureless zentai to a lightly tanned caucasian, all the more realistic for the seemingly random blemishes and imperfections of human skin. The waterfall of hair changed to a dark blonde with highlights that gave it a delicious texture. A totally believable human body stood before me; an unbelievably hot, irresistibly sexy female body.

As the eyelids opened to reveal large brown eyes that met mine with lustful anticipation and the lips moistened the magic spell was complete.

I had made the right choice for company this night.

Watching my doll begin to work its magic on me never failed to make me feel the same excitement and anticipation of the first time I had used it, straight out of the box.

That time, just as I still do most of the time now, I had set the doll to automatic mode; a mode where it didn't have any specific instructions. I have always liked the unpredictability of these modes. If you want to take the lead and move the doll into a different position, just like you would with a real woman in bed you could do that, but it was exciting to just sit back and see what the doll would do left to its own initiative. It was never disappointing.

Casting off my clothes and letting them fall to the floor I climbed onto my bed. The doll's lustful eyes followed me as I lay back with my head and upper torso propped up by a couple of pillows. In automatic mode I knew that in a matter of seconds it would begin.

Sure enough the naked beauty began to slink directly toward the foot of the bed, hips rolling, a knowing and extremely sultry look across her face.

That was how it made you feel; this wasn't an "it" this was a "her". The emulation of a real woman in its movements, from swaying hips down to the way the eyes tracked from my eyes to my mouth to my engorged member was just so convincing. If you let yourself slip into a sexual haze it would be almost possible to forget that you aren't being seduced by flesh and blood.

It is especially thrilling as it moves close to you for the first time, eyes wide and sparkling, lips tender and moist, fingers outstretched and anticipating that first touch. I was certainly not inexperienced sexually the first time I used my doll, but I do remember being very intimidated as I saw the doll's hand reaching out for my erect member and telling it to pause.

Should I be scared, I thought, trusting my flesh to a machine?

When I told the doll to resume and I first experienced the touch of those incredible hands the fears evaporated forever. Imagine, for a moment, how a violin must feel when it is picked up and played by a world renowned soloist. The doll's hands may have appeared human, but the way they apply pressure and friction to human flesh is more akin to an intelligent liquid.

It was doing that to me now. Her eyes never left mine as one hand began to stroke up and down my thighs and the fingers of the other hand closed around the shaft of my cock.

Then there was the vibration; it started without warning. To say that the doll had vibrators in its hands was to make the understatement of the century; the technology was far beyond a simple motor that could be on or off. A complex symphony of melodies flooded through my member, interference patterns seeming to probe intelligently for the most sensitive nerve endings. The ecstasy made me feel as though my loins were being lifted to float a metre above the bed. I was already groaning involuntarily and it was a minor miracle I wasn't already orgasming hard.

"Tease mode" I managed to gasp. "Random time, minimum 1 hour."

The doll nodded and gave me a devilish smile. It was such a human acknowledgement to what I always had felt were a very robotic series of commands. Those were the commands out of the manual though; in the past I had tried to tell the doll what I wanted in a more organic, conversational manner, but quite often I had been misunderstood. It was artificial intelligence after all, not true intelligence.

There was no chance now that I would climax early. The doll could literally read my mind. Or rather, its senses could see the nerve clusters in my brain firing as easily as a human could sit and watch a holovision screen. It was that level of feedback that allowed it to know, often better than you did, what turned you on. The doll, or rather its programming, knew just how close I was to full-on orgasm better than I did. In tease mode it would use its near tantric levels of control over my pleasure centres to bring me closer and closer to the edge before backing off, again and again. At some unknown time of its own choosing it would push me over the edge and into orgasmic oblivion, but not at least for 60 minutes.

The eyes looked so human in the way they reflected the low light of my room. The more I looked at the doll's face the more I was drawn to those swollen, perfectly formed lips. I wanted to feel them against mine. I reached out and ran my hand through silken hair to reach behind the doll's head and gently pull that mouth to mine.

As she moved toward me she lost her balance, catching it again as the hand that had been on my thighs landed on the pillow next to my head. The surprised giggle was sweet and girly and the breath on my lips warm and steamy. Those lips were right there in front of mine; I had to feel them! The first contact was warm, perfectly moist and tingled with the friction. I was never sure whether or not the doll was applying a mild electric current to the point of contact, or whether the slipperiness was just that exquisite.

This was one of the most impressive feats in the doll's arsenal. I have always felt that so much of kissing a girl was a form of deep interpersonal communication, and yet the way that these warm, tender lips moved against mine, the way they slid and sucked and nibbled and explored was so convincing. So was the probing tongue that slithered into my mouth and played with mine. Whatever complex algorithms controlled kissing for this machine were the closes things to artificial personality I had ever experienced.

The intensity of the vibration from that incredible hand, still wrapped around my cock, actually increased if that were possible. I arched my back involuntarily, breaking the kiss, and when I opened my eyes it was to an entirely believable simulated look of enjoyment on the doll's face.

The hand released my manhood as the doll dived back in for another slow, sensual kiss. Her skin was unbelievably smooth as the whole length of her body squirmed against mine. her chest was warm and firm, her hips insistent as they began to grind against me. As amazing as this virtual foreplay felt I knew too well just what was waiting for me between the doll's legs. That magic vagina was already calling to me; I needed to be inside her.

I moved my hands to her hips, guiding her down toward me, making my desire clear. That was all I needed to do. I felt heaven open up and swallow my member whole, the ring of tight, wet, pulsating warmth sliding all the way down. An involuntary moan pushed its way up from my throat as the doll's eyes closed, a thoroughly feminine gasp spreading her lips. Her hips wiggled and internal muscles twitched, squeezing my cock in welcome.

My hips started to thrust up, pushing my cock deep into my partner as she instantly began to match my rhythm. The insides of the doll's vagina seemed to suck and grip, resisting every movement with an exquisite friction that seemed to know every nerve ending in my cock. To further add to the melange the doll riffed on my rhythm with movements of her own, rocking forward and back, wiggling side to side on the down strokes.

I knew I could ease back on my own movement and just let this machine do all of the work, for as long as I pleased, but it felt wrong. I thrust hard and deep, loving the feeling of letting my instinctive desires dictate to my body, letting my self control slip.

My eyes had glazed over, but I managed to focus on my partner's face as it hovered above mine. I never knew quite what the doll's expressions were supposed to be conveying. It seemed to switch between the expression of a woman who was excited by the power that her loins were exerting over mine to an intense ecstatic surprise as though she were being carried away by some fresh and unexpected ecstasy. Often it did seem that the robotic vagina had an agenda all of its own and the doll was, like me, simply a passenger on the wild ride of sensations it could create.

I couldn't come. No matter how hard I surged against this partner, thrust in and out, kissed, caressed, drove myself crazy, all that happened was that I got closer and closer to the edge. Nothing I could do would push me over the edge. Don't ask me what kind of technological voodoo this machine was using but my nervous system was totally helpless to the restraint being imposed on it.

Then when the climax didn't come and I just had to slow down the doll responded by shifting gears to a whole new kind of pleasure. I simply lay there moaning out loud as the expert sensual masseuse that was her loins drove me to new heights of ecstasy. Somehow the slower, more subtle movements were even more intense; in and out, lifting up and wiggling around, pushing deep and grinding. It was totally unpredictable but yet contrived to bring me to the edge again and again, holding me right on the edge so that it felt the next movement would be the one to tip me over, then it would back off

This was the point where time always would always begin to blur. Such was the intensity of the experience it was as though all conscious awareness, all rational thought, had just slipped away. My world was the movement of those hips, the silky skin of artificial buttocks in my hands, warm breasts pushed against mine,

Then, out of just one more build up, I was coming. A sudden flash of heat and light from my cock that blew the rest of me away. It was so intense that nothing in the last hour, it must have been at least an hour, had prepared me for the raw power of it.

As always she was coming too, holding me, squeezing herself to me, gasping and screaming as a real woman would. The artificial vagina pulsed and sucked in waves capturing the energy of my release and re-directing it, heightening my pleasure so that the waves bounced off each other, higher and higher. Did it go on for a minute? Was it five minutes? Was it five seconds? I was so lost in the experience I had no idea.

Then everything went black.

I woke up a short while later. I couldn't tell how long it had been, but from the clock I guessed it was just under two hours since I had taken the doll out of the wardrobe. My body felt supremely satisfied and relaxed. I was no longer inside my partner and my arousal had long since deflated. I was greeted by the beautiful feeling of a warm body snuggled up against my side as I lay there on my back. The doll's head lay on my chest and a delicate hand across my stomach.

This was another one of those moments when the sheer artistry behind this machine was astonishing. It seemed so human in the way it had, of its own initiative, sought out this very human post-coital position. I could even feel it breathing; its pulse too.

"Did you enjoy that?" I asked.

"Mmmm." The doll responded in the affirmative. Its head nuzzled up against my chest in a very feline gesture of supreme satisfaction.

"What did you like most about it?"

The doll said nothing, but tilted her head up to kiss me on the chin.

"What's your favourite flavour of bowling ball?" I asked.

The response, yet another blind, pre-programmed, display of affection. There was no comprehension, no understanding of what I was saying.

This time, the time after, was always when the loneliness crept up on me.

I was alone in my bed. There was nobody here with me. This experience, these experiences, at the hands of this mechanical lover were really just masturbation. To me that always felt a little bit sad.