by Selena Kitt
It was only a few moments more before Imre thought he had had enough for that night, so he reached for his clothes, got dressed again and then moved away from the room taking his coat with him. The robot-woman remained still, in the same position on the bed. As he opened the front door and exited the room, in the silence that wrapped the whole place now, the fictitious space-music coming from the lights of the bed stopped.
As the man took the elevator to the ground floor and left the building, he considered a few things. All had gone well, as requested. The entire appearance of the young woman made her look like an electrically powered device that was toy-like in scope but that had specific uses that might serve to accomplish, and satisfy, some darker, and more obscure, desires, as a matter of fact. Being seemingly mindless and only able to cope with simple orders, she gave a man the true impression of being like one of those subjected servants that were completely at your full disposal, and that never rebelled under any circumstances, in every way.
In order to let you have a really satisfying time, you had to previously and precisely outline what you wanted the sex-worker to be able to do, in much the same way a person might create a sort of computer software or a modern device which truly came out of robotics. As a matter of fact, her behavior, and all of her gestures, had to replace the usual movements and posture a true person had – for all the time you spent with her. It was exactly as if that was a human-like robot that had to be constructed successfully to satisfy your will, and your sex fantasy, of course. In this instance, the woman had to appear to be a mechanical device created in all of its efficiency, that might also be upgraded and turned into a better, more appropriately working model in accordance with your wishes during sexual intercourse, with other applets and adds-on being in the room to be implemented insomuch as those might seemingly have additional effects onto the robot. Exactly as a machine that possessed the ability to be modified with only one of these, whilst other levels might be easily reached by means of such fictional updates, bringing the pleasure to a higher, unprecedented point, in the end...
That woman had to act and think precisely as if she were a semi-aware robot that always functioned under the command of her owner. She wasn’t to eat, even to breathe during some moments, or sleep of course, until the customer was finished with her – having done as he pleased. But it was all fiction, indeed, and nothing was real. The entire liaison’s goal was to give you the impression that it was all real, and that was all that mattered.
The whole aseptic setting of the room was meant to represent a robot’s private quarters on a space base they supposedly were in, and to give the impression that the outside environment that surrounded them was the empty space or a moon’s surface perhaps. Not that such a place really existed yet, as Mankind had only built an automated station on the Moon and on the Martian surface so far, and the present technology didn’t allow anyone to imagine that a truly and continuously manned outpost would be made on some planet nearby in a matter of years, given the high cost and the extreme difficulties involved in such huge projects. Humans already had too many problems to deal with on Earth, and the economy of that period wasn’t likely to be wealthy enough any time soon to allow easy space travel to happen in the near future.
Actually, TB-N8 wasn’t a true robot with the appearance of a young woman. She wasn’t too different from a common female individual, except her flashy metallic outfit, the several applets she wore on her shoulders and legs, those glitzy space boots, and the makeup that covered her arms and hands. There was no way yet to build such robots that might be identical to living girls, even though many tries had been made over the years, indeed. You could see, of course, some steward and maid built of metal that welcomed customers to the malls or guarded the main hall of an office building or hotel here and there in many modern towns all over the world nowadays, but that was all. When it came to sex, however, no true contraption of science or a recent device in the shape of a woman – or of a man - had ever developed past any serious test.
Inventors might endow a mechanical construct with the best clothes, the most wondrous features or the widest smile along with a perfectly suited talkative and very entertaining program - and a person might even fall in love with one of those, in the end, given their attractiveness and good manners - but when you touched one of them, you immediately felt their false skin. Eventually a person figured out that the consistency of their overall body wasn’t exactly what a person desired deep in his heart and was looking for. It was as simple as that.
Some products that were a result of recent robotics discoveries had also been ‘eroticized’, having no use beyond pleasing a man’s desires. Some examples were built to specifically include sensitivity in artificial breasts and genitals to facilitate sexual response, according to the great demand of some managers, rich men of power and also lesser traders – or even representatives of the common people. These individuals looked for custom-made passive women using sexualized imagery to satisfy all the most base of male desires. In the past science had suggested on several occasions that robot sex partners might become commonplace one day. Of course, such devices were frowned upon because they would be insulting to women – or to men, it depended upon which gender you were from and what kind of fictitious robot-lover you were looking for... But Imre didn’t care about all that noise, certainly. What truly worried him was that there weren’t plausible mechanical women yet which could accomplish the same performances and give you the same pleasure as real sex-workers could do right now - and there would not be any functional sex-bots in the foreseeable future on Earth for at least 20 or 30 years, given the current limitations of cybernetics and robotics. If they would ever exist one day, in blunt terms...
So, for the moment a person had to be content with this, and such a practice simply made you imagine, and enjoy, the time you spent in places like this one, which gave you all the fictional impressions, and deep sensations, you needed and you paid well for, of course. This wasn’t an encounter that common people could experience, because you had to be rich enough to buy such expensive services, and go through those sexual exercises which were especially conceived to please your sophisticated - or simply very strange and unusual... – tastes. Men like him searched such venues and entered premises like these from time to time, as those were specifically meant for people who had been waiting a long time for their dreams of a world full of woman-like robots to come true. They had been waiting for centuries for robots that looked like real beautiful girls in every way but had become automated, cold and almost mindless - though very attractive sexual slaves to their most base desires. These men had spent lifetimes hoping for lifelike sex-bots, though the passing of the time had simply made them understand in the end that their hopes were going to be completely neglected and unattainable. Men like him were growing old year after year and they had to face the reality that the present level of technology would never truly be as they wanted.
People like him who, given their job, knew very well about the limits of the field of bio-applets, high-speed computers, up-to-date devices, and so on. They also knew what limitations those machines had, and would still possess in the near future. They were dejected and were surely aware of the fact that they would never see during their lifetime an Earth filled with beautiful androids, unbeatable cyborgs and lovely robots as the many holo-movies and the web-series kept showing them all night and day, which might resemble real individuals - both men and women. They were simply dead tired of expecting something that would never happen, and of being forced to restrain their darkest and cruelest desires, and the implausible sex fancy they uninterruptedly had on their mind, in the end.
So, what was he to be waiting for?
Buildings like the ones he had previously visited, that were usually situated on the far outskirts of town, had both a male and female clientele, with prostitutes being women or men not older than 35, in most cases. There had always been places like these since the ancient times of Mankind – place
s that sold sex and pleasures to the local citizens who frequented them. Their clientele mainly consisted of single men, traders, travelers, soldiers, along with government officials or policemen, and so on. Many illegal brothels hadn’t ever cared about strict regulations and had offered all kinds of weird services since the beginning of civilization. There had always been venues in the past, and there were still many nowadays, where you might spend some time with attractive young women who dressed like and perfectly looked like famous sportswomen or showgirls - if you just could afford the price. It was all part of a wider entertainment business and was part of that world that moved around, trying to help people fulfill their wishes, making money for satisfying their customers. But this was the first time ever in history that men and women paid to be with robot-like individuals they might kiss, bed and love without restraint. Many people got so wrapped up in all of it that they simply couldn’t stay away from such practices for long, as that need grew like an addiction, becoming louder and louder inside their head. It was the ambition to live in a world full of the truly marvelous inventions they had been wishing for since they were children, and that regretfully were still unavailable to them.
Things had gone that way ever since robotics had failed to truly bring to life human-like robots that rich men like him desired. And they would predictably keep doing the same thing for who knew how long. So, for the present time, a person had to be satisfied with such replacements whenever you needed to turn to them, of course.
Once the man had left the room, the woman remained lying on the bed for some time. Parts of her body still hurt because of the length of time she had been asked to maintain that position by her fictional owner. She was simply tired, dead tired for that night. All she wanted now was remove the heavy costume she had on, and those applets that made her movements difficult and slow, starting with that small device she had previously positioned in her mouth which made her voice appear metallic and artificial. This had been a very demanding experience, much worse than the performance she had been ordered to do yesterday night, and so a hot relaxing shower was probably in order to calm her down. But she had to do it soon, as the room had to be vacated within half an hour, and so she had simply to hurry up.
Eventually, when she was once again wearing her own clothes and had gone back to her poor, unsatisfying everyday life, she would feel free, at least for a few hours before returning here and starting it all again, under the command of another wealthy paying customer. These were the rules for the girls like her who had once walked alone on the streets of that town. When she had first gotten here she was trying to escape the appalling conditions of her old small hometown, trying to find a good job. However, she had ended up being thrown to some dark alley without money at all. Eventually she had fallen prey to some unscrupulous individuals, going directly into the cruel hands of the local mob that didn’t miss a chance to have another attractive woman at its service. They could use her to increase their own incomes by selling her body, and her more unusual performances, to the rich customers who never stopped asking for newer, stranger experiences.
TB-N8 was her fictional identification number, but her true name was Terez. What offended her at times was that even the gangsters running the business had started calling her, or addressing her, by TB-N8, instead of using her birth name. Maybe it was just easier for them, as it began with the same consonant, but this didn’t make it less hurtful and embarrassing!
As the girl was removing the color of the static powder from her skin that she had previously used on her arms and legs in order to make them appear like robotic parts of her body, her thoughts went to her last sex acts. She thought about the face of that rich man she had been with, the man who was probably going home at present to some tall, super modern and accessorized skyscraper where his wife was waiting for him and maybe even his children. Men like him simply couldn’t feel close to any of the common women, they never felt – or didn’t want to be - connected to anyone. That was why they needed these circumstances and such strange experiences, or so she thought. Probably such men were incapable of a true relationship or they didn’t want to really talk to anyone, as they were forced to do communicate while on their jobs. When they wanted to relax, that was how they desired to deal with women like her, imagining they were robots and not some real, troublesome or complaining individuals who could act or reply in return. Those people didn’t try to give pleasure the other person in the room - they simply didn’t care about their occasional partners, as it was only their will, their interests that mattered to them at that moment, and nothing else. Nothing at all...
‘I may appear to be a robot-like being, or a mechanical servant that is at your service, ready to accomplish the duties you ask of me, or the actions you require me to do here. So, continue to treat me this way, as a machine, if this pleases you...’ she told herself, by staring at the walls of the room. ‘But my life, my true being and mind is more real, more authentic that yours will ever be. Ever! And I still consider myself to be more human, and more sensitive than you are, for sure. Even under these fictitious costumes - and this really laughable outfit I am required to put on in this place every night – I am still more of a human being than he is.’
In a way, the young woman almost felt very sad for him.
The End
ABOUT SERGIO PALUMBO
Sergio “ente per ente” PALUMBO is an Italian public servant who graduated from Law School working in the public real estate branch. He has published a Fantasy RolePlaying illustrated Manual, WarBlades, of more than 700 pages. Some of his works and short- stories have been published on American Aphelion Webzine, WeirdYear, Quantum Muse, Antipodean SF, Schlock!Webzine, SQ Mag, etc., and in print inside 17 American Horror/Sci-fi/Fantasy/Steampunk Anthologies, 30 British Horror/Sci-Fi Anthologies, 2 Urban Fantasy/Horror Canadian Anthology and 1 Sci-Fi Australian Anthology by various publishers, and 22 more to follow in 2016/2017.
He is also a scale modeler who likes mostly Science Fiction and Real Space models, some of his little Dioramas have been shown also on some Italian (scale model) magazines like Soldatini, Model Time, TuttoSoldatini and online on American site StarShipModeler, MechaModelComp, on British SFM: UK site and Italian SMF .
Some Sci-Fi/fantasy/Horror short- stories by him in Italian have been published on Alpha Aleph, Alpha Aleph Extra, Algenib, Oltre il Futuro, Nugae 2.0, SogniHorror, La Zona Morta, edizioni Lo Scudo, Antologia Robot ITA 0.1, Antologia Il Segreto dell’Universo, Antologia E-Heroes, etc.
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