His LED Smile

Huh. I was starting to think of Bruno as a 'he'. Already.

Been a while since there was a man in this flat... God. Andrew. That was a while ago. The last guy to get any further than a few messages over an online meet-up service, and even then it had been the loosest definition of a 'relationship' I'd ever had. We were effectively live-in fuck buddies who made the bad decision of getting a cat together - the basis of our commitment.

Hammy. He was grey, kinda fat, and I loved him. Andrey took him when he moved out - while I was visiting my parents, mind you - and I had missed him ever since.

I'd missed the sex, too. I mean, who wouldn't - it was about the one thing Andrew was actually good for. His cock was big enough to make me feel full, but not to be painful, and he had great stamina. Once, he had me pinned to the bed for a full hour, just slowly fucking me like it was relaxing, keeping me on the edge of cumming for the longest time. When he eventually got round to it, using his fingers on my clit to get me off, and hammering me home - oh, it was heaven.

God, why was I thinking about that now?! Was I really that repressed?

And, to think that Bruno being the 'new man' in the house was... wrong. Perverse. I mean, I knew that some people did... that with their B-Models. I wasn't a child, and I wasn't completely alien to the idea of sex machines and autonomous sex toys - but having an android do the dishes and then finger-blast you before bed was a world away from getting a glorified pisting with a dildo on the end.

Not that I had one of those either.

In all honesty, I was a bit of a prude when it came to sex toys. Andrew got me a vibrator as a joke-gift for my last birthday, and to this day it was the only thing I had. Most nights I just... didn't bother with 'getting myself off'. I wasn't very good at it, and the idea of using a toy Andrew got me was strange.

Besides, the furthest it would - theoretically - ever go would be fingering; Bruno was totally smooth where it counted, and his whole design seemed to be thought-out to make him sexless. Although, his butt was more than a little well-sculpted...

No, Jen. Stop. Perverse, remember.

Oh, but all of this thinking was getting me a little worked up. Maybe I could break my rule. Just for one night.

Bruno was still in my bedroom, cleaning out the storage space beneath my bed. 'Bruno, stop,' I said. He stood, placing a pile of books at his feet. For a moment, I was annoyed he was still moving, but then, I remembered the command we'd set. 'No - Bruno, freeze.'

He froze. The LED lights that pretended to be a face blinked dark, and all the lights that glowed under his white skin-plates dimmed, making him turn an odd sort of grey.

'Okay. Bruno? Can you hear me?'

He didn't move. He just stared, faceless - eyeless - into the room. In fact, he was kind of facing the bed.

For a minute, I thought about starting him up again and telling him to go in the living room, before shutting him down. But what would be the sense in that? I knew that there was no privacy risk - he wasn't active, which meant he wasn't watching or listening, or paying attention in any way to me. I could kill someone in front of him right now, and Bruno wouldn't move a non-muscle.

Plus, the train of thought of Andrew was making me feel a little adventurous.

Moving before I had time to think about it twice, I kicked the door shut and crossed the room to the side with a window, pulling the blind all the way down. I switched on the lamp, and opened the bottom drawer of my bedside dresser. Inside, there was the box - small and black, nice and discrete.

I popped it open for the first time in months, and revealed the shiny metal bullet inside, nestled in a little bed of felt. I gave it a quick twist, and it buzzed into life.

A shiver ran through me, and I could feel my growing wetness between my legs demanding attention. Who was I to ignore it any further?

I hopped onto the bed, and pulled off my shabby clothes - the same ones the receptionist had judged so clearly. The tank-top and sports bra whipped off in an instant, letting my bare chest feel the slight chill of the air - nipples atop my modest B-cups standing to attention.

Next, I pulled off the jogging bottoms, leaving me in socks and boxers - they were so much more comfortable than women's war - which I decided to leave on for now.

The bed was soft and clean when I lay down onto it, feeling a pang of guilt at the fact that Bruno had worked so hard to make it perfectly, and here I was leaking all over it and messing it up. Oh well - he's best get used to it.

Vibrating metal bullet in hand, I lay back on my clean sheets, enjoying the odd luxury of having a bed be made for me, and closed my eyes. My hands explored my body - one trailing between my breasts, teasing me in a way I had always liked, while the other held the vibrator against the skin of my lower tummy.

I twisted it back on, and straight away the mix of cold metal and soft buzzing made me shudder. Opting not to rush - whatever did I need to rush for - I pinched my nipples as I teased my waistband, dipping into my own underwear to tease the sensitive dips and creases of my hip bone.

'Nmf,' I groaned through a bit lip as I went a little lower, feeling the bullet trace my trimmed pubic hair - soft and a little unshaped, it cushioned the buzzing enough to make it a real shock when my hand slipped under the elastic of my boxers and the tip of the bullet grazed my clit.

'H-oh!' I moaned, as it slipped easily between my folds, trapped between my hot sex and the fabric of my boxers. It vibrated against my clit, and I groaned and bit my lip.

For a few minutes I just rode that buzz, grinding against the bullet and letting my clit enjoy a bit of well-needed attention. Soon, however, I felt that wonderful tension building, the looming crest of something powerful lurking - and I sped up. Only a little, only enough to bring myself that satisfaction a little quicker. Fingers and metal slipped between my wetness, the lips and inner folds of my pussy soaking my boxers through as I played myself in a game I could only win.

'Fuck,' I moaned, only softly at first. I was always quiet to start, but I cum loud - it was something Andrew had loved. Then, just as I started to crest, my eyes opened - shooting open as the orgasm burst from my core - and there I saw Bruno, 'looking' down at me, his face blank and unwatching. 'Oh jesus fucking - UHH!'

My breath caught, toes curled, thighs shook, and every muscle in my body clenched and shuddered as I came - hard. I actually started laughing, it felt that good. For so long, I'd been using my finger to get me where I wanted to go, and now I couldn't figure out why. Maybe I had been hiding from doing this without Andrew in the house; or maybe I had felt so disgusted with my house that I felt disgusted with myself.

And, now that Bruno had sorted the flat, I could sort myself out. Maybe. Just a theory.

Either way, I giggled as the last shudders ran through me, the vibrator dropped and buzzing into the sheets, and looked up at Bruno. He looked to stupid like that - completely vacant.

'Thanks, buddy,' I said, not really sure if his impact on the flat had been what had given me the mental room to deal with masturbating. It was a lot easier to cum when I wasn't thinking about the growing pile of rotting food by the sink, after all.

I pulled the tank-top back on, packed the bullet back in it's little box, and started Bruno back up. 'Bruno, wake up.'

He blinked at my command, and straightened. 'Hello, Jen,' he said, his voice as calm and neutral as ever. For some reason, I hated it less than I had twenty minutes ago.

'Sorry about the bed - you'll have to make it again,' I said.

'Alright,' he nodded, not a blip of animosity in his tone.

'Oh,' I said, pointing to the bottom drawer of my bedside table. 'Don't go in that drawer, please. It's private.'

Bruno nodded. 'Okay, Jen.'

I smiled, felt another shiver run through me, and left the room as Bruno smoothed out my pillows.

THREE - ASSIMILATION

Over the next few weeks, Bruno became so integral to my everyday life that I started wondering how in the hell I got by without him for so long. From keeping the flat clean - which was obviously his primary goal in the flat - to providing me with some much-needed casual conversation throughout the day, it wasn't long before that initial animosity I had felt fizzled away.

Equally, it helped that, for whatever reason, having him in the flat made me a little more... raunchy. Like it was suddenly naughty again, to sneak off and have a bit of fun while Bruno was 'paused' in the other room. Or, as he had been the first time, right next to me, but unable to see. I got into a bit of a rhythm with it - each night at around six, I would pause him, and have myself off on top of my bed. In full view, yet unseen. It was exciting!

I didn't know if I would call him a friend - that might be taking it a little far. But humans, by nature, were social; we could emote and empathise with a toaster if you gave it a name. I remembered my dad having a favourite pen when he was writing his novel - he had to hand-write everything first - and one day, when I was very small, I sat on it and cracked the body. Oh, he was furious - but he knew it was silly. It was only a pen. But he felt that anger, that... loss. It was only human.

Maybe that was why they encouraged us to give the B-Models names, so we could make a deeper connection with them. Intentional or not, it worked, and the times I forgot to charge Bruno properly, or if he got a stain on him or something, I would worry. Worry! I hadn't worried about anyone in a long, long time. It was nice.

It bothered me, though, that he was that plain, factory-setting white all over. It seemed so dull, so monotonous. I wasn't the type of person who enjoyed that minimalist aesthetic - I liked a bit of design. So, I hatched a plan. I found out - mainly from asking Bruno directly - that his skin-like plating was able to take on colouring, but it needed to be sprayed with a primer (sold by ShemmTech, of course), and then you had to use a specific type of paint to make sure it stayed on.

Well, I had a nice little paycheck coming in, and seeing as Bruno was making my meals and cleaning the flat, I had felt a certain amount of freedom in working a few extra hours the last couple of weeks, I easily had the money to get a set of primer and black adhesive paints in the post.

The day they arrived, I got a call from the reception desk again - that receptionist had a voice like velvet, I could have sworn. It was the weekend, meaning I didn't have much else to do, so I pulled on a shirt Bruno had ironed the night before and some comfortable trousers that did me a few more favours than the jogging bottoms and tank-top would have done the first time she saw me.

Why am I making such an effort? I thought. She probably hasn't thought of me twice since then.

Either way, I felt like I should put my best foot forwards, and hopefully show that I wasn't the scruff she'd seen a few weeks back.

'Back in a minute,' I told Bruno, who was making dinner - some salad with chopped tomatoes, local-farm ham and a cheese I couldn't easily read off the packet. He'd taken to ordering a lot of the food (based on a budget worked out from my usual spending habits), and frankly I'd never eaten better.

He nodded. 'I'll see you soon, Jen.'

I locked the door behind me on my way out, and made my way down to the reception. It wasn't until I saw her that the nerves I was feeling kicked in, but once her dark eyes clocked me, and I saw a slight smirk play at her lips, I knew something was up.

Just get on with it, Jen. I knew I looked better than last time, but all of a sudden it felt less like I was trying to shove it in her face, and more like I was trying to show off to her. Show myself off.

'Jen Mohan,' she said as I approached, shoes clicking against the polished floor, the lobby shiny in its every-perfect chromic silver. 'How's the B-Model?' She said it like there was some secrecy involved - her voice conspiratory, her eyes mischievous.

'Oh, he's a dream,' I said. Trying not to get flustered by her unwavering stare, I decided just to move forwards. 'Is my package here?'

She smiled, and gave me a light nod, before turning to the table behind her of waiting packages. 'Huh. Yes, it is... here.' It was small, almost like a shoebox, and the receptionist held it out to me.

'Thanks...' Oh, God, I don't know her name.

'Samantha,' she said, mercifully. 'Sam. And, you know, those B-Models are good for a lot of things. You been working him hard?' Then, as I took the package from her hand, 'Or her, of course.'

'I-'

Whatever sentence I had planned got caught in my throat, as she gave me another once-over sort of look.

'You clean up nice,' she said quietly, making sure the other people in the lobby didn't hear. It was about 5pm, so there weren't a lot of people around, but enough to make her cautious.

'Uh- I- thank you,' I said. Then, 'him, it's a he.'

She nodded, smiling in a way that was slightly... disappointed?

Hold on - was she hitting on me?

I'd assumed the judgment was, you know, malicious. Or, at least, competitive. Like she was weighing me up and found me lesser than her. But, hearing me say that - her eyes suddenly were breaking away from mine and her posture sort of straightened up.

Oh, Jen, you twat.

'You should know,' she said, just as I thought she was never going to speak to me again, 'they're releasing an update for the B-Models next week. It makes them more open to... customisation.'

'Customisation?' I asked, not wanting to be rude. Or, any more rude than I already had been. Idiot, Jen.

Sam nodded, then leaned in again. There was a spark in her eyes again, though it was much less intense. 'Add-ons. For... intimate purposes.'

I coughed.

Sam laughed, and I felt like a tit. Completely involuntary, but it had literally knocked all expectations from me - I didn't know what to say!

'People - people do that?' I asked, incredulous.

Sam nodded, that smirk back again. 'We certainly do.'

Oh.

And then, all of a sudden, I had the image of Sam on her back, on my bed, with Bruno over her, thrusting into her with a cock he didn't have - or maybe he would be eating her with a mouth he didn't have either. Wait - how was this supposed to work?!

Samantha seemed to guess my confusion, or maybe my face was showing it, as she quietly tapped two of her fingers against her lips and gave me a wink. My head then, was filled with images of Bruno finger-fucking Sam to orgasm infront of me, unrelenting and precise-

'Besides,' Sam said, yanking me from my intrusive fantasy. 'They have a vibrate option.'

I swear, I felt something inside me clench, or shift, or seep - letting just a little moisture squeeze between my thighs in a way I hadn't felt in a while. Not out in public, anyway. This was too much, and I could feel how red my face must have been in how hot my cheeks felt.

Then, as though nothing had been said, Sam turned away from me and started a conversation with a guy next to me. I was left, red-faced and wet-lipped, holding a package in a vice grip as I staggered back to the lift.

I barely remembered the short walk back, and it wasn't until I looked at Bruno, who was still fussing in the kitchen over something in the sink, that I realised what this meant, and how horny I was.

I dropped the box on the coffee table, and went and sat on my bed, trying to think straight.

I didn't mean anything - right? People did those things with their B-Models - that didn't mean I had to. Or even wanted to. In fact, from how she was looking at me, part of me suspected that Sam was just saying things to get me flustered, payback for shooting her down in a way that, while unintentionally so, was a bit harsh.

The image though, of her, on this bed, with Bruno - God, it was doing something to me. Plus, if Sam had been hitting on me, which, the more I thought about how she looked at me, the easier it was to think of her in that... position.

I had never been with a woman before. Never even really considered it. Or, more accurately, I'd never had a space in which to experiment. I'd gone to a male-dominated Uni course, and before that I was the dorky girl in school - it was an effort to get even guys to look at me; if there were any closeted baby gay girls in my shool, I doubted they would have risked getting caught on me.

Besides, the idea clearly wasn't upsetting me. If anything, the opposite.

I checked my phone, and saw that it was almost half five - earlier than my usual 'allotted time', but frankly I wasn't going to wait much longer. Whatever the image in my head when this happened, I knew Bruno and Sam would have something to do with it, and I couldn't tell if that was exciting or off-putting.

Actually, no. At that moment, I knew it was exciting. I just felt strange to admit it.

Which was weird, right? I was a single woman, living alone (arguably), and I had... urges. Sexual ones. That shouldn't be uncomfortable to admit, but it was an odd idea. Often, when I had those urges, it was with someone else helping stoke the fire, so to speak. Until recently, I had never been the type of person to indulge in self-love, but with Bruno around...

It wasn't like he was directly having an impact on my libido. Not at all. Even with what Sam had said, the appeal of Bruno was what he could do for me, not what he was inherently. But nonetheless, it was more like... like I had the room, now. In my head. I had room in my life to worry about pleasure, of all things. I wasn't constantly worrying about the building piles of shit I would have to clean up - those physical reminders of every chore I was ignoring. Monuments to my lack of self-care, so tall and ugly that I didn't even want to look at them. I didn't want to have to work so hard, on top of my already soul-sucking 'dream' job, to catch up on... myself.

And now, because of Bruno, I didn't have to. And, that sounds lazy, but honestly I didn't care. It was such a weight off my shoulders, knowing that I could breathe again, without feeling guilty. Without this crushing shame that every moment I could spend watching TV, or drawing, or, yes, masturbating, was a moment of work wasted.

Either way, I had that time now. I had shed the shame, and Bruno was helping me find myself again, and have time for myself again. And take the time I did.

'Bruno, freeze,' I called, and I heard the movement cease. Not bothering to shut the door, I pulled the bullet out of it's box, and lay back, eyes closed, and pulled my clothes off bit by bit. I wasn't in the mood to take my time, or to tease - after the picture Sam had put in my head, I was ready. All I wanted was to get this pressure out of myself, and give myself what I needed.

Today, for whatever reason, I went face-to-pillow, with my hands under me to find myself. My hips ground down into my knuckles, the metal cold between my lips as I twisted it on.

'Oh, fuck,' I whispered, moaning into the bedding as I pushed all of the right buttons. While holding the chilled device on my clit, grinding and sliding it against my sensitive nub, I used my other hand to delve into my aching hole, fingertips stroking my g-spot as my thighs started to shudder.

Thoughts of Sam slipped between my fantasies and memories of Andrew, her hooded eyes and dare-me cleavage confusing me in a way that made the knot in my stomach tighten.