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<Tehkek>
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Joined: 31 Jan 2010
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re: Paul & The Sexbots: The End Of The World, The Beginnings

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It was perfect, curvy and soft, with a built in heater and programmed to always be up for it; just as importantly it was indistinguishable from the real thing, except this one would never accidentally wake him up with elbow to the nipple.  Paul prepared for more research by smearing himself with globs of the jelly like lubrication they used around the labs, and for a moment he wished it wasn't tinged orange and that it wasn't so bloody icy cold at first.  At least he didn't have to rush things at the weekend.  Four hours later his research session was over, and as he gazed up at the sticky walls of the research room he had the feeling he was forgetting something, trying to remember what he counted the orange warning signs that plastered the small rooms walls, orange is the least sexy colour they could pick for this he though.  So many of signs and what was he forgetting, two, three, four.  He promptly fell asleep.

He woke gently, stretched out the kinks and strains in his muscles and feeling the warm space of the bed and, what was that?  His hand felt across the bed under the sheets, and he sat bolt upright.  Shit.  The two sexy bots immediately froze and turned to him, expectantly awaiting orders.  'There, there should only be one of of y-you...'  His gaze caught the lifelike but lifeless eyes of the hot redhead, and in a second it was doing what it was programmed to do, struggling was no use and sometimes between shifting positions he caught sight of the other bot.  Five minutes in to the ordeal the other brunette bot shuddered to life and he could only catch glimpse of it moving back and forth, back and forth.  Hours after, the red haired thing finally managed to complete it's erotic mission, and he was exhausted but could see that the other bot was crouched down over something on the floor, busily doing something.  

The red head bot was lifeless beside him and he figured he had the same amount of time as the brunette bot gave him, before it's programming looped again.  What to do?  Slowly he started to swing his legs out of the once crisp white sheets, if it didn't notice him maybe he could get to the door just a few feet away before...before it happened again.  He eased himself out the edge of the bed like oil through a tight crevice, one foot, an ankle, a leg...holding his breath he cheered inside as his naked foot felt the cool of the tiles.  Slowly he inched up to a sitting position, he never took his eyes from the brunette bot but he knew the redhead bots cool face would make no expression when he accidentally dug an elbow into it's pillowy breast on his achingly slow journey past.  He was standing now, and was so close, but wait-he had to physically stop himself from face palming and making any noise.  

Stupid, stupid, stupid.  He could turn off the red head just by flipping the switch behind it's ear coward, stupid coward, running away first, always- he silently told himself to SHUT THE FUCK UP and reached gently towards the perfect jawline, it's eyes remained staring forward, two dead jewels.  Did it have a screensaver programme running back there, he couldn't remember clearly, he was so tired but it was a high probability since the bots could be linked to a PC for replaying highlights of the sessions.  He inched closer, he had to be quiet in case the faint whisper of the other bots rapid movements would stop.  Carefully, careful, he brushed past the real copper hair and, just moments away...the blue eyes suddenly flicked towards his and he flicked it off with the slightest of gasps.  The relief hurt almost as much as the anxiety.  One down.  Turning and trying not to shake, or cry, or breathe with relief he screamed as the brunette bot shoved him back into the bed.

A day or two later, he was hoarse, and dry and bruised.  And cramped.  He didn't even think of trying to escape after the fifth attempt, he spent his remaining time trying not to think at all; thinking meant remembering and he couldn't bear to remember that again.  He sent hateful thoughts towards the man bot every time it rolled into view, and his asshole involuntarily clenched.  The room itself was filled with movement and all he could do was fake sleep.  They didn't touch you when you slept.  

Silent crying interspersed with silent prayer that he just die, that a bomb dropped on them, that an electrical fire from one of the bare wires in the now stripped room would light enough of a spark to roast them all, plastic, wires and flesh.  His gaze lazily tracking the redhead bot as it contorted with the blonde bot, the brunette must have turned her on again he thought giddily, lips twitching at his own personal joke.  He forgot which day it was, he forgot to pray that Juan or Dom or whatever the cleaners name was wouldn't come round on Monday morning, 5am like always to clean up after weekend testing.  The keys rattled and the door swung open, all the bots froze and waited as the mop and bucket clattered to the floor and the old woman screamed and pointed into the room.  

Idiot...

-Nihilith-
Danish

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Joined: 22 Dec 2010
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re: Paul & The Sexbots: The End Of The World, The Beginnings

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Too awesome. Will this be a regular occurence? I need more stories!



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