Mechanical Bull

"Are you sure we couldn't program... 78 to weed the front space garden?"

The corners of Becky's lips ticked downwards and she stared a hole right through him. He hung his head.

"Sorry. I'll do it."

And he had. He spent hours doing it. And now he would spend a few more moping the interior. And as he mopped, he heard them from the bedroom.

"Fuuuuck! Yes, YES! Oh, 78, give it to me, give it to me!"

He heard it's strong, synthesized baritone voice reply, "You are the most beautiful human in the known galaxy. It is my pleasure to serve you, Ms. Rebecca." He then heard smacking sounds. It was spanking her. And she loved it. Gary inched closer to the door. He placed the side of his face against it. It was a cold door. Years ago he slapped her butt during intercourse. She told him it was disrespectful, told him never to do it again, and made him spend the rest of the week on the space-couch.

"Yes, yes, spank it! Spank it! You own it! You own that ass, 78! It's yours! It's yours!"

Gary sadly removed his small penis from out of his space-pants. He wrapped his right hand around the little thing, first palming and rubbing it, trying to make it large enough so that he might begin to stroke. When he finally got to that point, at a medium pace, he stroked to the sounds of his wife's pleasure.

"Mmm, yessssssss!"

Stroking, stroking.

"Oh God, yes! Better than any man, ever!"

Picking up speed.

"Fuck me, 78! Fuck my ass! Take it!"

Already on the verge of coming.

Slowly, the sounds of his wife's pleasure began to subside. Darn it. Just as he was about to explode. Oh well. This must be one of those lulls. He knew the sexbot slowed down every so often, and he knew that the sexbo... that 78 would eventually bring her back again to a place of unbridled energy, inducing loud sounds of pleasure from his wife that would help him finish. In the meantime, just tread water. Stroke the little thing softly and wait for her moans and screams to pick back up.

Suddenly, the door swooshed open. Gary scuttled back a few inches and his head shot up in fear and embarrassment, like a child being caught with his hand in the cookie jar right before dinner. In the doorway stood his completely nude wife. Naked from head to toe, he gazed at her beautiful exposed breasts, her thick yet curvy figure, her perfectly mussed hair, her well-defined legs. It had been quite a while since he had seen her naked. It was like an oasis appearing before a disheveled desert drifter. A moment of silence passed between them. His eyes wide. His mind empty.

"Well, hello there."

Gary didn't answer. He was still frozen from the shock of being caught. Mouth slightly agape.

"It's okay honey. You can finish. You're mopping up afterwards anyway."

Slowly, Gary once again took hold of his penis.

"Go ahead."

He began to stroke as his wife stood in the doorway, looking down on him. He stroked and stroked. 78 came over to the doorway and placed its arms around Becky's waist. They both watched as Gary squeezed out a load of sticky goo onto the floor and then looked down at it shamefully. Becky turned back around, showing off a quick glimpse of the round chubby butt that had just been pumped full of robo-cock. The bedroom door swooshed closed behind her. Gary was alone in the hallway once again. He overheard some giggling and then the sounds of fucking resumed. He began to weep for several minutes. He finished weeping. He stood up and mopped up the combination of his cum and tears.

----------------------------------------1 YEAR LATER----------------------------------------

Her flesh, warm and organic, pressed tightly against his, heated and synthetic. He held her completely still in his strong, unwavering arms... while his pelvis jackhammered his robo-cock in and out of her quivering wet pussy at literally a mile a minute. She couldn't make a noise. She was in pleasure overload mode. Whap-whap- whap-whap-whap-whap-whap-whap-whap-whap-whap-whap-whap... they had been like this for two hours straight. He held her, she clenched him, two still bodies save for the machine gun speed of his expertly designed dick's mechanical extension and retraction. She had cum seventeen times. Whap-whap-whap-whap-whap-whap-wha-whap-whap-whap-whapwhapwhapwhapwhapwhapwhap, it was about to be eighteen.

Gary could see most of it, but not all of it. The full scope of the scene was obstructed every 4 inches by the vertical steel bars of his cage. What he could see was enough though. He stared out as 78 mercilessly pounded the woman he once called wife. Finally, she screamed a scream he had come to know so well, but would never tire of hearing, even though it boldly signaled his own sexual inadequacy. A bittersweet sound indeed. Absolutely beautiful to the ear and yet also torturous. In a few moments though, he would soon find some semblance of satisfaction. His time was coming.

For months Gary had served as cleaning maid. Demoted from position of lover, then seemingly from position of husband, he began to doubt his own worth. His life consisted of just cleaning and being sad. When his depression reached its worst, he was seriously contemplating chugging a bottle of space-pills and shuffling off of this mortal coil.

But luckily for him, the months and months he spent as a maid was merely a byproduct of his wife being in the "honeymoon stage," with her new, robotic play toy. For Gary's role has changed yet again. A massive upgrade, one that saved his very life.

In the corner of the space-bedroom was a large, human-sized cage. It was in here that Gary lay patiently, watching his wife get plowed. Watching, watching, always watching. He would never avert his gaze, not even for a moment. This man in a box lowered his head and, without looking down at it, took several slurps and gulps of water from the bowl that was placed on the newspaper covered cage floor below him, his eyes still locked onto the vision of the fuckfest taking place before him.

And how is a man locked in a large crate an upgrade from a man forced to mop and clean? You will soon see.

Atop a mattress soaked with human sweat and sexual secretion, Becky screamed with an unholy joy as she reached her seventeenth climax of the night. It was the sound of a female wolf howling in heat mixed with the excited scream of a surprised space-lottery winner. After this vocal outburst, she reached up and weakly tapped 78's temple with her quivering pointer finger. He retracted his robo-cock from her vagina and took an unmoving position lying in bed beside her. Becky was officially tapped out. A long moment passed, her long, heavy, breathes filling the room as she slowly returned from the very edge of the galaxy and back to Yandor. Gary watched intently, the whole time. Finally, when she regained her bearings, she spoke.

"Thank you, darling," she said to her circuit-powered stallion.

"Always a pleasure, Ma'am," he responded, in a reasonable facsimile of a human voice (though one that was backed by the slight unnatural humming/reverberant bass from his internal vocal modulator).

"Be a doll now and go release my pet from his cage."

78 stood up from the bed. He made his way over to the large cage in the corner. He lifted the steel bar grating that covered the entrance of the cage. Gary scampered out enthusiastically, almost knocking over his water bowl.

It was only after the third month of non-stop orgasms provided by 78 that Becky realized she was missing the warmth of a human touch, the feel of a human body (accompanied by all its imperfections) holding her tightly. No matter how immaculately designed 78 was for her sexual pleasure, (and on that front, it was second to absolute none, with zero complaints), when it came to holding her afterwards (after her body had given out from pure exhaustion) something was always aloof.

78's touch and embrace were as warm as a human's... but only literally speaking (he could adjust his internal temperature to match that of a biological being). They were, however, lacking something intangible. Perhaps true, real feeling. Passion. Want. Need. Things 78 could attempt to duplicate mechanically (a tightening of the grip by 23 percent while holding her, the emittance of a breathy sound in her ear whilst pulling her close), but could never genuinely replicate.

So while 78's post-coital embrace was meticulously designed to provide her with all the aftercare she needed, it was on this one front that he seemed to still continuously fail. His affection was lacking one of the major, if not the most major ingredient that makes affection successful: love. Lack of love. The one chink in his armor.

"Good. Now, please release him from his other cage." Upon hearing this, Gary dropped to the floor and lay on his side, spreading his legs wide, revealing the hard, clear, plastic chastity device that securely contained and restrained his substandard penis.

A holding compartment built into 78's right forearm slid open with a swoosh, and, with his left hand, 78 removed from it a small key.

Gary began panting with anticipation.

78 bent down and inserted the key into the keyhole of the lock that was affixed to Gary's chastity device. He turned the key. Click. The lock was unlocked. 78 carefully removed the plastic device from Gary's genitals.

"Thank you, 78."

Gary scampered forward, now free from both cages, and jumped up onto the bed. It was warm and wet.

"Somebody's excited!" Becky exclaimed, playfully.

Gary smiled with his tongue hanging low from his mouth and nodded frantically while swaying his tushy back and forth. The little nub that was his penis stood erect, all 3-inches of it.

"Do you want to cum? Is that what you want, sweetie?"

Gary nodded even more frantically.

"Aww. Well, you've been such a good boy lately, I think you've earned it." She then turned her attention towards her lover. "78?"

78 walked to the bedroom closet, opened it, and removed from it a fluffy pink pillow. He brought it over to the bed and placed it down on the mattress.

"Thank you, 78. That will be all for now."

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied, and walked over to the corner across from Gary's cage. "Powering down," he said to himself. A loud, yet soothing hum overtook the room as the lights from his eyes dimmed slightly and his chin lowered, just as slightly.

Gary wiggled his tush some more as he stared down at the pillow.

"You don't get to fuck me, do you?"

He looked at her and shook his head no, obediently.

"But that's okay because you have your little pink pillow. And you love your little pink pillow, don't you?"

Gary panted.

"Go ahead, baby. Hump your pink pillow. Hump it while Mommy watches."

On command, Gary climbed atop and straddled the large pink pillow between his legs and began to thrust his little weenie into it. Slowly at first, he humped, and then he picked up some speed... mechanically pumping and thrusting in an unremitting fashion, he and his pillow situated in the dead center of a large wet spot where a robot had just been fucking his wife.

Becky smiled as she watched him hump with reckless abandon, as ferociously as he could. It seemed like a lifetime ago that it had been her in place of that pink pillow, having to pretend to enjoy the pathetic act perpetrated upon her. Now, watching from just the left, she was enjoying the act. It's funny what a difference a few feet makes.

"Good boy. Hump it faster. Hump it faster."

Gary humped and humped, panting harder and harder, faster and faster, beating up on that pink pillow with his junk the best he could.

"Fuck your little pink pillow because you can't fuck Mommy. You'll never fuck Mommy again."

Finally, with those words, he reached climax and came heavily into the center of plush cushion. His eyes turned over white. Four-weeks worth of pent-up sexual frustration released. He fell to the left of the pillow and lay still, panting yes, but no longer of a fervent, ravenous nature and more of a calm slow one. Returning from the very edge of the galaxy and hurtling back to Yandor.

She reached over with her hand and began to stroke his hair. She pet and pet him as he lay peacefully. What a beautiful moment.

When life returned to his body, Gary turned and scooched closer to her. He pressed himself close to her and held her. He cuddled her. She loved it. She cuddled him back. He loved it.

It is true that Gary was no longer a lover. Gary was no longer a husband. Gary was no longer a domestic servant. Gary was no longer Gary. Gary was, "pet." Indeed, he was no longer an equal partner allowed any sort of say or opinion of his own, but he had a very important job and a very important place in the household. As human pet, he provided the warmth and emotion that Becky's lover could not. He provided her with the love and affection she craved. And she returned it to him in kind. A mutually beneficial exchange of warmth, love and cuddles.

He had found his place and he had found his purpose. He could provide his owner with something that she could not get from her android. This gave his life the meaning he had struggled to find back when he was first but an ineffective husband, and then a but an ineffective maid.

Along with his feelings of inadequacy, the animosity that had previously existed between Gary and 78, had also begun to subside... a distant nightmare fading from both of their consciousnesses. It was the slow but eventual discovery that they should share the same goal that had now allied and aligned them. Both man and machine, unified by one common initiative: please Becky. And please her they do, though both in their own, very distinct and vastly different ways.

As 78 stood in the corner powering down and Gary lay beside her wrapped up in her arms, she looked back and forth between them. She smiled. Her two men. Though she had to admit that one was more robot than man, and one was more puppy. Still... she felt blessed.

This was not the sort of thing that could happen on Earth. Only on Yandor.