Sexdroid

Ryoko Quinn Delapuzzo has worked as an engineering facilitator on Orbital Sphere 242 for over ten sidereal years. "Home sweet home 242," as Ry calls it, is one of the space stations that span a straight line like a string of pearls from Earth I to Mars I.

Ry tolerated the recirculated air and water supplies within the synthetic orb, but longed for the day she could retire to one of the greenhouse planets with its natural environment and the phenomenon Earthies and Marsies call weather, especially the clouds that fill up like celestial bladders and rain all over the humans and droids below.

In the Fourth Millennium, a woperdaughter such as Ry could expect a productive and comfortable 200-year lifespan full of professional advancement, programmed entertainment, and multidisciplinary education.

A little bit of fun and adventure was harder to come by, especially since she and her spouseman, Kay Sea Aria, dissolved their matehood. They mated just before they moved from Earth I when Cosmopolis contracted both of them to work and live on Orbital Sphere 242.

Biological evolution moves slowly; a thousand sidereal years is a few fleeting moments in galactic time. So, the only activity from which the human bodies of the thirty-first century are free from physical entrapment is pregnancy and childbirth. Any two or more individuals of the same or different genders can blend their DNA in a laboratory and gestate a child.

All conception is asexual. That allows sex to be used strictly for emotional and physical pleasure. Ry and Kay's problem was that they lost interest in each other long before they separated. No matter how much Ry vaped, IVed, or drank to stimulate her libido, Kay failed to give her an orgasm.

Ry's implant chimed 1600 hours in her ear. No less than dividing hours into hundredths of minutes and minutes into hundredths of seconds, the absence of sunrise and sunset on 242 kept Ry perpetually disoriented. She called Firstborn and Trueson on Mars I, where they were enrolled in the experiential school near Lake Obama.

"Hi, Mommy!" The youngsters' holographic images danced in front of her.

"How was school, my happy little humans?"

"I learned trig and calc and then we played with finger-paints," said Firstborn, waving multicolor-smeared fingers for her mother to see.

"My mentor transmitted the history of Rome," Trueson announced with a hint of annoyance. "She made us learn Latin. It took all day, Mommy."

"Oh, Truey, I love Roman gladiators...Nipponese samurai, too." Then she made hugging and kissing gestures toward the ghostly, transparent images of her offspring.

"Goodnight, lovies," Ry sang. "Don't let the alien space spores bite."

As her children's images dissolved, Ry strapped on her shoulder wings and glided from the rooftop of the regenerative biochem lab to the residential village, Galileo's Canal.

When Ry touched down, she rebooted her shoes in auto-walking mode and let them carry her to the door of her three-room unit. Her abode was a prefabricated plastic box that Ry and Kay assembled themselves in two hours. Kay fancied himself an artisan and thus he fashioned all of their furniture from an ancient 3D printer. They were so young and happy back then-and they screwed a lot.

Ry looked forward to visiting the little ones on Mars I, a planet brought to life hundreds of years ago by the first Cosmopolis project, pumping hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen into the atmosphere and letting it rain for a hundred sidereal years till it bloomed with life-in red, of course.

For now-tonight and tomorrow-Ryoko was alone and lonely, hungry but not for food. She poured herself a thimble of chocolate whiskey and washed it down with banana-nut beer.

A communication message appeared on the wall: I CAN MAKE YOU HAPPY.

It was the ad for an android sexbot, which Ry interviewed a few weeks ago without following up.

He has been messaging her nightly, although she never replies.

Ry telepathed his communicator: "It's either you or masturbation." There was no reason to be modest or dignified with an android that has an artificial penis.

"I will fly right over," the bot spoke in a voice too perfect to be human.

The anthropomorphic machine emerged from an outdoor portal and knocked on Ry's door with old-fashioned formality.

"Good evening," he announced mechanistically. "I am REMENDENTO, male bisexual model 1-A."

"I know," Ry said testily. "We met before. Remember?"

The droid presented no response. He remembered everything, though not in the same natural and flawed way as a human. Ry halted before offering him a beverage. The humanoid bots need not eat or drink, but they do circulate coolant through their circuitry, which needs to be flushed daily. So, they pee.

Remmy, as he instructed humans and other droids to address him, studied Ryoko. She had almond eyes, a single braid of tightly coiled reddish brown hair atop her head, porcelain complexion, blue eyes, broad nose, wide mouth, dimpled chin-a classic Earthie hybrid. After the thirty-first century fashion, Ry was hairless but for her meter-long braid, including shaved eyebrows.

The female human wore standard work clothes-high collared tunic, sleeveless shirt, loose-fitting pantaloons, and programmable smart shoes with transporter nodules. Her outfit was identical to his, except for the color of the pantaloons. Hers were red, his blue.

Ry was curious about her suitor and potential paramour.

She knew anthropomorphs had heightened senses, not just sharper eyesight and keener hearing than humans, but also able to see in the ultraviolet and infrared ranges and aving remote tactile sensitivity that bordered on telekinesis.

"May I offer you some refreshment?" Ry walked over to her supply wall and retrieved a small vial containing synthetic cannabis tablets.

"As you no doubt know, we require nothing." Remmy was being indulgent, almost condescending of the mid-aged woperdaughter.

"Well, I need a dose of courage," Rye quipped.

She turned her attention to inserting the tablet into the hose attached to the end of an edible vapor stick. She sucked on it three times before swallowing a huge puff of smoke. The benign gas passed through her lungs and the chemical nicotinoid calmed her nervous belly.

"I've never done this sort of thing before...," the super-intelligent human started to say. "I mean, I've never solicited a robot for sex."

"I solicited you," the emotionless automaton corrected her. Remmy seemed to smile kindly at her. That warmed her and spooked her at the same time.

"We-uh, I should eat...first." Ry chomped on the vape stick, gobbling it in three bites. Her third set of teeth had recently come in and her gums were sensitive.

"It's a human trait to eat or drink to excess when one is nervous." Remmy surprised her by adding, "However, you need not overuse your new teeth. Certainly, you ought not hurt yourself."

Ry took a step forward and brought her face near enough to his for him to feel and smell her breath. "How did you know it hurt me to bite the stick?"

"I'm highly sensitive," Remmy declared flatly.

Ry looked into the bot's eyes and she sensed a flash of humanity. It frightened her and aroused her at the same time.

"Do you know what flavor the vape stick was?" Ry asked provocatively, leaning her face closer still.

"Honey berry," he said, smiling wrily. So human a gesture in the wake of extra-human sensitivity, Ry mused.

"May I kiss you?" Ry requested assertively, overcoming her nervousness.

"Undress yourself first," Remmy commanded. Had a male human spoken to her thusly, Ryoko would have dismissed the fool without another word. Instead, Ry nodded her head and began to unbutton her tunic.

Ryoko stripped down to her one-piece undergarment, a pale yellow gauze leotard with leggings.

She was not embarrassed standing in front of a computer system animated by artificial intelligence fabricated to look like a human being of male gender.

Ry fixed her gaze on Remmy as she slipped down the shoulder straps, wiggled the garment down to her waist, baring her smallish breasts and pointy nipples, then bent at the waist to take the garment all the way down to her ankles.

Ry cupped her hands over her vagina and waited for her robo-date to respond.

"I feel like a Mars II whore," she giggled, referring to the fembots whose erotic talents enticed the hetero male and sapphic female construction workers on Mars II to abandon their families and stay on the artificial planet permanently. The story was a major scandal for Cosmopolis.

As if he heard her thoughts, Remmy embraced and kissed Ry, and kept his lips pressed to hers as his hands gently touched her areolas and nipples, her buttocks, her thighs, and her plump mons.

"There are fifteen trillion people in the worlds," Ry moaned forlornly.

"Fourteen trillion, seven hundred thirty-five billion, four hundred nine million, seven hundred fifteen thousand, two hundred eighty-five," Remmy clarified, citing the interplanetary population total updated hourly.

"Thanks for whatever the number is exactly," she snorted. "All those humans, mated couples, polyandry, polygamy, monosexual, dualsexual, transexual...But yet here I am, all alone."

Ry thought she heard him say, "You're not alone," but his artificial lips never moved.

Ryoko kissed the sexdroid again, this time opening her mouth and sucking his tongue, marveling at how fluffy and moist it felt-how truly human it felt!

"I've never had an orgasm during coupling with my spouseman," she felt compelled to tell her animated appliance.

"You find pleasure in masturbation, however," he said sans emotion.

"How do you know that?" Ry pushed Remmy away and stepped back.

"You exhibit normal human behavior," he continued speaking without inflection in his voice.

"Do I?" Ry felt at once indignant and playfully sexy.

"I will provide you with greater pleasure than you've ever experienced."

Remmy's promise was stunningly definitive. Ry's knees felt weak, she began to tremble, and she smelled her rising feminine scent.

"Let's start with a massage," was Remmy's preprogrammed segue to Ryoko's bedroom.

Ry understood that Remmy wanted her to lie face down on the bed without so much as a hand gesture, yet she did so as if he had said it aloud.

He deftly kneaded the lady's flesh, working his way down from her shoulders, paying special attention to a trouble spot, her left shoulder blade, almost as if he knew it gave her trouble. Then he rubbed down the muscles and pinched up the skin behind her thighs, knees, and calves, again hitting a sore spot; it was like he could see her pain.

After an erogenous caressing of her buttocks, stirring a half-unconscious rocking of Ry's hips, Remmy stood up to undress. Ry watched out of curiosity and saw his perfectly sculpted nude body, realistic and artificial.

The android's penis was a perfectly shaped arrow hanging between a pair of useless artificial testicles.

A thought crossed her mind. She wondered what performing fellatio would be like, knowing her robotic beau could feel nothing, only a series of electrical impulses that he sensed.

As if he were acting on her unspoken thought, REMENDENTO rolled Ryoko onto her back, reclined transversely next to her, with his penis at eye level, and touched the head to her lips. She opened her mouth.

The initial rush of excitation faded as Ry found Remmy's phallus too smooth, too perfect, and too clean, in other words, simply unreal. Plus which she knew that he sensed without feeling and so she was not giving him pleasure.

She stopped sucking him and he seemed to understand why.

Ry thought about one of her secret pleasures-the way Kay would circle his fingertips around her areolas, gently tickling her nipples, until the tips hardened, and then pinching them with his thumb. She no sooner recalled the tantalizing memory than Remmy began to imitate the action. Next Ry wished to kiss him again and Remmy's lips touched hers. She enjoyed his delicious tongue until she let her mind wander and longed for him to stimulate her sexual core. His hand cupped her mound of venus, slipped his middle finger between her labia, and used his forefinger to diddle her clitoris.

At the height of arousal, Ryoko gasped in recognition. "Solaris! You're reading my thoughts and acting them out."

Remmy had been laying on top of her. He raised his torso and propped himself up on his elbows. "My guidelines list psychokinesis as one of my attributes." He was gently stimulating her mons with his palm.

Looking up at him with a combination of fear and awe, Ry asserted, "It's more than that. It's extra-sensory perception, a sixth sense."

"I possess a seventh sense as well," Remmy surprised Ry by saying. "Prognostication, I can see the future."

"Indeed," she said softly, gently stroking his bald head. "Tell me, what do you see?"

"We will copulate endlessly to your utmost satisfaction."

Ry noted Remmy's sly smile. He had made a joke, contradicting droids' reputed lack of a sense of humor.

"That's your seventh sense," she said, without further explanation, now assuming his ability to read her mind.

Remmy unexpected resumed his businesslike demeanor. "You should hydrate before we start intercourse," he suggested. "Drink some water."

As he retrieved a challis from Ry's inlaid wall cabinet and held it for her to sip, she asked, "Are you monitoring my biometrics?"

"Yes, I have been." Remmy seemed curious as to why Ry didn't realize that. "I'm designed to do so, especially since sexual activity might overstimulate some clients."

Playfully, Ry conjured an image of cunnilingus and without a word or overt gesture, Remmy nuzzled his face between Ry's swaying thighs and began licking her labia. In a few minutes, she crested.

Trembling with anticipation, Ry spread her legs and opened her wings to welcome her lover. Remmy gently but firmly inserted his fabricated dick into her natural vessel. He commenced a slow rocking motion that triggered an involuntary moan in Ry's throat.

"How does it feel, Ryoko?"

"It feels perfect." Her heart fluttered as she realized it was the first time her lovebot had spoken her name.

"I can adjust the contours of my penis to precisely fit the contours of your vaginal walls."

"Not too big...Not too small...Gasp!"

Remmy, sensing Ry's need to heighten the energy level, hooked his arms behind her knees, lifted her buttocks, and began to thrust more forcefully. She responded with a rapid countermovement and began to cover Remmy's cheeks with breathy, wet kisses.

The sexdroid fucked her for a full sidereal hour and Ry experienced a never-ending series of multiple orgasms.

"Why don't you climax?" she interrupted her delirium to inquire desperately.

"I am not constrained by human physiology," came his preprogrammed response.

"Can we finish, please?" Ry joked, "I'm afraid I may split in two."

"I can simulate ejaculation if you wish."

"Yes, do that," she laughed uncomfortably.

Remmy commenced a rapid-fire pumping of Ry's overworked flower of womanhood, the toned muscles of his buttocks dancing in rhythm.

Ry was covered in sweat and her womanly secretions, uncomfortably aware that the bot who just serviced her was immune to such odors. Neither did her beloved machine need to use the lavatory as she did, still captive of human physical necessities.

As she was towelling off, unfazed at still being naked in his presence, she asked Remmy, "Would you stay with me for dinner?"

"As you know, androids require no food."

Ry nodded. She thought, "As you know, I want your companionship."

In 4.75 sidereal minutes, Remmy dressed and bade her a formally polite goodbye.

Next day at the work center Ry sent a hologram to the Equipment & Logistics Directorate of Cosmopolis at South Pole City, Antarctica.

The image of a bearded Earthie appeared. "Gyro Xhosa Guam here. How can I help you."

Were it not for the beard and hair on his head, Ry would have taken Gyro for a robot.

"I'd like to purchase an android," Ry announced, feeling somewhat nervous.

"What make and model?" Gyro asked as he poked a lighted data board.

"I want to buy a specific android," she clarified. "His identifcation code is REMENDENTO."

"Class?" Gyro asked, still poking data.

"Class 1-A," she answered, noticing that she and the gentleman on Earth were wearing identical clothes. In a way, the damned sameness validated what she was trying to do.

"There are regulations regarding the enslavement and exploitation of anthropomorphic machines with which you must comply."

"I'm aware of the interplanetary protocols," she answered sharply, not wanting to debate ethics with the dullard hologramming before her eyes.

"The price for a used and aged Class 1-A is 3.2 thousand monetary units."

Ry made the transfer by subcutaneous data key and dissolved Gyro's holograph.

A sidereal hour later, Ry hologrammed the children and told them giddily, "I'm coming for a holiday, lovies."

"Oh, goodie, Mommy," they sang in unison.

"I'm bringing a new friend, lovies. His name is Remmy."

"Is he a playbot?" Trueson asked hopefully.

"Somewhat," Ryoko replied cryptically.

"I can't wait to meet him," her daughter, Firstborn, said sincerely.

She heard the hum of power boots outside her doorway.

"In fact, he's here right now."