Jimmy Bot and Me

                            * * *


It was raining again.  The marquee of the old theatre kept me pretty
dry, but every so often a gust of wind would blow off of the bay and
send a freezing spray across the sidewalk, soaking my clothes and
clinging to my bare legs.  I tried to keep warm by bouncing on the
balls of my feet, but that was pretty hard to do in stiletto heeled
boots. 

The sound of tires on wet pavement caught my attention and I stepped
out to the curb.  An old Cadillac, missing its front bumper, slowed as
it passed but didn't stop.  As it braked for the stop sign at the
corner, a big drop of rain hit me square in the eye, diffusing the red
glow of the tail lights, momentarily turning my vision a bright blood
red. 

I wanted to go home, back to Silky's place, where it was warm and dry,
but I had to make another $50 or else he'd make me sleep in the
basement with Denise.  Silky never beat his girls but he could be cruel
in a lot of different ways.  Come back short and you'd sleep in the
basement with the rats.  Hold back money from him and he'd take your 
clothes and chain you to the fire escape, let the pigeons shit on you
all night.  Rats and roaches and pigeons did Silky's dirty work for
him. 

Another car approched, only the third in the last half hour, and I
stepped out to the curb again.  Two more BJs or a half-and-half and I
could go home for the night, take a hot bath, maybe a Vicodin or two. 
That's what I was thinking when the car slowed to a stop.  It was a
small Japanese sedan, two guys in the front.  The passenger side window
squeaked as it rolled down. 

"Excuse me, miss," one of the men said.  Grey hair, neatly trimmed
beard, wire-rim glasses.  Out of place in this neighborhood.  Must be
lost, looking for directions or something.  I was about to return to
the shelter of the marquee when he said "Excuse me" again. 

"Get lost, fuckhead," I snapped, though they were already pretty lost
from the looks of it. 

"Excuse me, but we'd like to engage your services for the evening."

"You what?"

"You're working, correct?"  The driver leaned over and whispered
something to him. 

"What's it to you?"  For a second I thought they were cops or
something, but they looked too soft, too civilized to be Vice Squad. 
Besides, the passenger said "Excuse me" twice already, two words a cop
would never say unless he farted in bed. 

"We need your help," the passenger said, reaching into his jacket and
pulling out an envelope.  He opened it and showed me the contents: a
stack of twenty dollar bills. 

"Put that away, asshole," I said.  Flashing that much cash in this
neighborhood was suicide.  "What're you looking for?" 

"We need your company for the evening," he said.  "You will be well
compensated for your time." 

"Both of you?"  I'd done group scenes before, mostly for Silky's
friends, players who couldn't get it up with just one girl around. 
These two guys weren't players; they looked gay. 

"Actually, it's not for us," he said.

"Then who?"

"You'll have to trust us."

"What, you want me to fuck your kid or something?"

"Er, in a sense, yes."

"You gonna watch?"  Tiffany did that last year for this limo driver we
knew, paid her for a night with his son on his eighteenth birthday. 
Sat and watched them, too.  Pulled his pud the whole time. 

"If that's okay with you," the man said.

"Yeah, what the fuck," I said, stepping off of the curb and getting
into the back of the car.  "Where do ya wanna do this?" 

"Back at the lab," the driver said.  He had wire rimmed glasses like
the passenger but his hair and beard hadn't gone completely grey. 

"The lab?"

"You'll see," he said.  I just shrugged my shoulders and closed the
door.  As we drove away from the old theatre, I reached into my purse
for my cigarettes and lit one. 

"I'm sorry," the driver said.  "There's no smoking in the car."

"Too bad," I said, taking a drag and exhaling a cloud of smoke over the
front seat.  The passenger cleared his throat but neither of them said
a word. 

The lab was a sprawling three-story building near the university.  As
the driver rolled down his window and put a plastic card into an
automatic gate, the passenger turned towards me and handed me a
laminated ID on a silver chain.  It had the name of the lab, Applied
Syntax or something, and the word "VISITOR" in big black letters. 

"Wear this," he said.  I looped it over my head and let it fall between
my breasts. 

We passed through the gate and drove across a broad parking lot,
pulling into a space that was marked with a "RESERVED" sign.  Before I
had a chance to reach for the door handle, the passenger got out and
opened the door. 

"Allow me," he said, bowing slightly.

"Thanks."

The driver shut off the engine and got out of the car, and the three of
us walked to the front entrance.  A security guard in a white uniform
buzzed us in, smiling as we walked past his desk to the elevator.  The
driver punched the button and the door slid open.  We stepped inside
and the passenger pressed the button for the basement.  For a moment I
felt a twinge of fear.  I didn't like basements.  Bad things happened
in basements. 

This basement was nicer than most hotels, though.  Grey carpet on the
floor, clean white walls, well lit.  Even the pipes that ran along the
ceiling were clean.  No rats, no smell of piss and heating oil. 

"This way," the driver said, leading me down a long hallway to a steel
door.  There was no knob, no lock, just a square box with a glass
inset.  He put his palm on the glass and there was a faint humming
sound.  Then the door unbolted from the inside and whirred open.  I
hesitated before stepping inside. 

"Come," the passenger said.  "Nothing to be afraid of."

"Yeah, right."  I followed them inside, into a large, well-lit room. 
There were shelves and workbenches along three of the walls, all of
them filled with gadgets and gear and gizmos.  The fourth wall was a
big glass window that provided a view of an adjoining room.  It took me
a moment to realize that the figure seated at a desk in that other room
wasn't a person. 

"That's our 'kid'," the driver said.

"You want me to fuck a robot?"

"In a word, yes," the passenger replied.  "We'll pay you $500."

"You had more like a grand in that envelope," I said.  The driver
cleared his throat and glanced at the passenger.  "Nice office, all
this expensive crap.  Don't cheap out on me." 

"Very well," the passenger said.  "$1000."

"That's more like it," I said, taking off my jacket and dropping it on
a swivel chair.  "That thing's not going to hurt me or anything, is
it?" 

"No, no, of course not," the driver said.  "Jimmy Bot's rather gentle. 
You might find this enjoyable, even." 

"Jimmy Bot?" I laughed.  "You named your robot Jimmy?"

"Is that odd?" the passenger said.

"Well, yeah," I said.  "Shouldn't it be named 'Megatron' or 'Voltar' or
something?"  The two men chuckled at that, a patronizing laugh.  I felt
like leaving but, hey, $1000 tricks don't come along every night. 

"Actually, Dr. Hatt named him," the driver said.

"After himself," the passenger added.

"James Hatt had some rather...interesting theories," the driver said.

"What's he do?" I asked.  "Besides fuck, I mean."

"Our Jimmy is a very smart 'bot," the driver said.  "He searches text
for patterns, among other things." 

"He's not that smart, Donald," the passenger said.  "If he were, he'd
learn how to masturbate instead of having us go through all this
trouble." 

"Now, now, Alex," Donald said.  "Would you masturbate if you knew you
could expense a hooker every two weeks?" 

"Point taken," Alex said.  I turned towards the window and looked at
the Jimmy Bot.  He had a human form, head, torso, arms, legs, dull grey
metal or plastic, and was seated at a desk in front of a computer.  As
words flashed by on the screen, too fast for me to read, Jimmy kept
tapping the space bar on the keyboard, its glowing blue eyes fixed on
the monitor. 

"So, Don?  Al?  What do I have to do?" I asked.

"First of all," Donald said, "you need to talk dirty to Jimmy."

"Dirty?"

"The naughtier the better," Alex added.  "Dr. Hatt used
certain...erotic texts when he was developing the brain of Jimmy Bot. 
As such, Jimmy responds to certain nouns and verbs that are associated
with sex." 

"So it's like foreplay to him?" I said.

"More like the main event," Donald said.

"Okay.  Then what?"

"Jimmy is, err...anatomically correct, if you will," Alex said. 
"There's nothing there that you aren't already intimiately familiar
with." 

"Okay, I figured he had a cock or something.  Does he come?"

"Of course he experiences an orgasm," Donald said.  "That's the whole
point of this." 

"No, shithead," I snapped.  "I mean does he squirt?  Do I need a tin
foil condom or something?"  Alex enjoyed a laugh at his colleague's
expense, getting a nasty glare from Donald in return. 

"Jimmy does emit a glycerine-based fluid when he's aroused, and
produces a small emission at the point of climax," Alex said.  "It's
completely non-toxic and hypoallergenic." 

"Oh," I said.  "One thing I don't get, though."

"What's that?" Donald said.

"What's the point of building a robot with a dick?" I asked.  "I
thought the whole point of a robot was that they wouldn't have to
bother with things like eating and sleeping and fucking?" 

"That's a point we've spent many an evening debating," Alex replied. 
"Dr. Hatt was adamant that it was necessary to expore the limits of
artificial intelligence.  In fact, at times it seemed as if his goal
was artificial emotion instead of AI.  Hence the penis." 

"You talk about Hatt in the past tense," I said.  "What happened to
him?"  Alex and Donald shared a look, as if Dr. Hatt's fate was a deep,
dark secret. 

"He passed away last year," Donald said.  "Heart failure while in
flagrante delicto." 

"Sorry to hear that," I said.  In a way, I was.  It would have been
interesting to meet this Hatt. 

"So, shall we get to it?" Alex said.

"Sure," I replied.  "First, gimme the cash."

"Oh, of course," Alex said, reaching into his tweed jacket for the
envelope and counting out $1000.  "Here you go."  I counted it again
before slipping into my purse. 

"He's not going to go haywire now, is he?"

"No, there's no chance of that happening," Donald said.  "But if it
makes you feel any better, there's a kill switch beneath his scrotum. 
Just press it once and he'll suspend his activities." 

"Okay," I said.  "Let's do this."

Donald swiped his key card through a reader next to the door that led
into Jimmy's chamber and the door clicked, slowly swinging open like a
bank vault door.  Taking my purse with me, I stepped through.  The
sound of the door clicking shut startled me, though I tried not to show
it.  I had the nagging feeling that this was a bad idea, that I was
getting into something really, really weird. 

The window to the lab was a mirror on this side, concealing the two
weirdos that had picked me up.  I tried to ignore it as I approached
the robot.  He still hadn't acknowledged my presence in the chamber. 

"Jimmy?"  I tentatively touched his shoulder.  I expected cold, hard
metal, but he seemed to be made of some sort of plastic.  There was a
warmth that radiated from inside his body.  

"Jimmy?"  He kept his eyes glued on the computer screen.  The clicking
of the keyboard's space bar was the only sound in the room. 

"Jimmy?" I repeated.  "Wanna fuck me, baby?"

The clicking stopped.

"Fuck?" Jimmy Bot said.

"Sure, honey," I cooed.  "I've got a nice tight pussy for you,
sweetie." 

"Pussy," he repeated.  "Pussy."

"That's right, baby.  I want your nice hard cock inside my cunt."

"Cunt," Jimmy said.  His voice was more natural than I expected, not at
all like that dull metallic monotone you hear from robots in movies or
on TV.  It reminded me of an actor, though I couldn't place the name. 

"Would you like to see my pussy, Jimmy?"

"Pussy.  Cunt."  Jimmy swivelled his chair to face me.  The blueish
lights behind his eyes seemed to glow even brighter. 

I took that as a yes, unzipping my skirt and letting it fall around my
ankles.  Jimmy's eyes followed my hands as I pushed my thong panties
down my hips. 

"Pussy," he said softly.  He extended a human-like hand, pausing just
an inch from my thighs. 

"Go ahead," I whispered as I spread my legs slightly.  "Touch me. 
Touch my cunt." 

"Cunt," Jimmy said.  "Twat.  Box.  Fuckhole."  He extended his finger
and brushed my labia, surprisingly gently.  There was a faint vibratory
sensation coming from his fingertip. 

"You know all the naughty words, don't you?"

"Minge.  Cunny.  Honeypot.  Bearded clam."  As Jimmy probed me with his
finger, he reeled off a string of words, all meaning the same thing. 
Some of them were in different languages and there were many I'd never
heard before.  I didn't know if this was for my benefit or his, but I
didn't care.  The vibrations in his finger felt really, really good. 

"Let me see your cock, Jimmy."

"Cock," he said.

"That's right, honey.  Let me see your fuckstick."

"Cock," he repeated, withdrawing his finger and leaning back in his
chair.  "Fuckstick.  Prick.  Schlong.  Dick.  John Thomas.  Pendejo..."
 As Jimmy Bot went through his sexual thesaurus, he spread his legs. 
There was a quiet electric whine as a compartment in his crotch opened
and a penis-like appendage emerged.  It was average-sized, embossed
with veins and ridges that were meant to simulate a human organ. 
Beneath it hung a pair of dull grey orbs.  I slowly knelt between his
thighs to take a better look at Jimmy Bot's equipment. 

Donald wasn't shitting me about the kill switch.  It was right where he
said, behind the robot's balls.  What did surprise me was the texture
of Jimmy Bot's dick.  It wasn't hard like the rest of his skin. 
Instead, it reminded me of a doll I had when I was a little girl, Suzy
Skin-So-Soft or something.  Pliant, warm, not rubbery like a latex
dildo, slightly slippery to the touch.  There was a slit at the tip,
from which a drop of clear fluid emerged as I handled the robot's cock. 

"Would you like me to suck you first?" I asked him.

"Suck," he said, nodding his head slightly.  "Fellate.  Blow.  Gobble."

"Okay, baby.  I get it."  This word salad was getting a bit annoying. 
I leaned in and extended my tongue, taking a tentative taste of the
fluid that oozed from his cockhead.  Sort of soapy, sort of sweet. 
What the hell.  I took the robotic cock in my mouth and started to
suck.  There must have been some sort of mechanism inside it, because
it began to throb and twitch like a real penis. 

"Suck me," Jimmy Bot urged.  "Suck me."  It was the first time he'd put
two words together in my presence and I rewarded him by cupping his
balls and swirling my tongue over his veiny shaft. 

"Suck that fucking cock," he said.

"Mmmmph..." I replied.

"Squeeze my balls, baby."

"Mmmmm....mmmph!"  Jimmy's robotic cock was pulsing like a living thing
in my mouth.  I looked up at his face, seeing his eyes glowing even
brighter.  Then I looked down at his shaft, glisting with his fluid and
my saliva.  Suddenly, he pushed me away.  Not roughly: gently, as if
he'd had enough of that and wanted something else. 

"I want to fuck that sweet pussy of yours," Jimmy said.

"Okay, sweetie," I said.  "Where're we gonna do this?"  The room had
only a desk and a chair.  No bed, no couch, nothing else.   Jimmy got
up from his chair and laid down on the floor, his shiny cock sticking
up like a flagpole. 

"Get on top and wrap that cunt around my hard cock, baby."

"Okay," I said, straddling his hips and guiding his hardness inside me.
 Even if I hadn't been wet he would have slid inside me easily because
of the fluid that seeped from his cockhead.  But I was wet, I was
horny, I was eager to fuck this robotic stud.  This was the most
interesting thing that had happened to me in years. 

"Let me see your tits, baby," Jimmy said.  I pulled my halter top over
my head and he reached for my breasts, cupping them and gently
squeezing.  His vibrating fingers found my nipples, making them stiffen
and crinkle. 

As I began to slowly slid up and down Jimmy Bot's shaft, something
wonderful happened, something magical, something amazing.  His cock
began to vibrate and throb inside me, pulsing and rotating and growing
even bigger, expanding to fill me completely.  I fell forward, my hands
on his plastic shoulders as he played with my tits, his cock rippling
inside my cunt. 

"Oh fuck...oh jeez...oh fuck...Jimmy...Jimmy..."  He moved his hands
from my tits down to my hips, guiding me up and down on his magic cock.
 I'd never felt anything like this.  I was fucking a machine, a fucking
fucking machine. 

"Fuck that fucking cock, baby," he cooed.  "Fucking fucking fucker fuck
fuck." 

"Yeah, Jimmy...fuck me...oh fuck..."  I could feel it coming, my come,
my climax, building with every pulse of that amazing penis, that
mechanical knob that throbbed and thrummed inside me. 

"Come on my cock, baby.  Make that cunt come."

"Oh, Jimmy...oh, fuck...oh, yeah...I'm...I'm...ahhhhh..."  Words
couldn't come anymore, just a moan, a scream, and a shriek.  I was
getting off with a robot but I didn't care.  Those two old freaks were
watching, probably taping this, but I didn't care.  I probably wouldn't
be able to walk for a week after this but I didn't care at all.  All I
cared about was this amazing, mindblowing orgasm that made my whole
body twitch and throb like Jimmy Bot's pulsating cock. 

"Yeah, baby.  Ride that cock.  Ride that fucking fuckstick."

"Oh...oh...oooh...ungh!"  I came again, not as intense this time but
amazing all the same.  I realized that Jimmy could probably go all
night, never get soft, never fall asleep.  He was the perfect lover. 

I would have loved to ride him until I got sore but I wasn't here for
my pleasure.  This was business and I'd been paid to make this robot
come.  I tried to clench my pussy around his shaft but I had no control
over my muscles.  I bucked my hips against his, trying to ride him
faster, but Jimmy's hands were still on my hips, guiding them, setting
the same slow, steady pace as when we'd started.  Then I realized what
would set him off, what would make him come. 

"Come for me, Jimmy," I cooed.  "Fill me with your cum.  Fill my pussy
with your hot spunk.  I want your fuckjuice, Jimmy.  Come for me." 

I must have found the right combination of words because the pulsations
and the vibrations reached a peak.  Jimmy's eyes started to blink on
and off and then he let out a very human-sounding grunt.  As he relaxed
his hold on my hips, I felt a warmth flooding my pussy, a flow of fluid
spurting from his cock.  The vibrations stopped and his tool began to
shrink slightly. 

"Come," Jimmy Bot said.  "Climax.  Orgasm.  Nut."

"That's right, baby," I cooed, laying my body against his cool plastic
skin.  "Wow," I said to myself, wondering if I could parlay this into a
regular gig. 

"That will be all, Miss," Donald said through the intercom.  It took me
a minute to pull myself off of Jimmy's still-hard shaft.  Collecting my
clothing took even longer as I was a bit wobbly on my feet.  Jimmy just
got up off of the floor and took his seat at the computer again,
oblivious to my presence. 

Alex had a towel for me, blushing as he looked away while I wiped
Jimmy's fluids from my pussy.  Donald sat at one of the workbenches,
typing something into a computer. 

"All systems nominal," he said.  "Slight elevation of G4 waves and a
small spike on S7." 

"What's that mean?" I asked.

"It was good for Jimmy," Alex replied, taking the towel from me.

"You know me," I said.  "I'm all about customer satisfaction."

"Indeed," Donald said.

"So, what else does this Jimmy do besides fuck and read porno?"

"Dr. Hatt programmed a rather...eclectic set of skills into Jimmy Bot,"
Alex said. 

"Like what?"

"Calculating odds and probabilities," Donald said.

"Dr. Hatt took him to Atlantic City once," Alex added.  "They did
rather well at the blackjack tables until the casino discovered his
secret." 

"You mean they found out Jimmy was a robot?" I asked.  "How could they
not know?  I mean, jeez.  Look at him!" 

"Dr. Hatt developed a fairly lifelike suit for Jimmy," Alex said,
opening a metal cabinet.  Inside, hanging like an old bathrobe, was a
suit of synthetic skin, complete with pores and hairs and even a couple
of moles.  I touched it.  Lifelike.  Very lifelike. 

"Hey, I forgot my panties," I said, nodding my head towards Jimmy's
chamber.  "Mind if I get them?" 

"Not at all," Alex said, swiping his card through the reader.  Donald
was concentrating on his computer, scanning something that looked like
a polygraph exam.  As I stepped through the chamber door, Alex joined
him. 

It was an impulse, the fruit of a seed of an idea I'd had when I was
feeling how realistic that skin was.  I scooped my panties from the
floor near Jimmy Bot's feet, quietly whispering something in his ear. 
Jimmy stopped pressing the space bar of the computer and turned to face
me.  He nodded and the features of his face rearranged themselves into
something resembling a smile. 

The chamber door came off the wall like a falling leaf.  I knew Jimmy
was strong but I had no idea he was that powerful.  I followed him
through the gap and into the lab, seeing the startled expressions on
Alex and Donald's faces. 

"Grab the skin, Jimmy," I ordered.  As he reached into the cabinet I
turned to face the two scientists. 

"Keys," I demanded.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Donald barked.

"Gimme your fucking car keys or you'll know what it feels to get fucked
by Jimmy." 

"You'll never get away with this," Alex said.  He was shaking like a
newborn kitten. 

"Says you.  Keys."

Donald reached into the pocket of his lab coat and handed over the keys
to his car.  I snatched them from his hand and grabbed the telephone
from the desk, ripping the wire out of the wall. 

"Come, Jimmy," I said, leading the robot out of the lab.  Jimmy slammed
the door shut and punched the mechanism with his fist, jamming it
closed.  Those two old freaks would get out eventually.  I just wanted
a head start. 

The security guard scrambled out of our way as we marched through the
lobby.  He wasn't armed or anything, but he had a radio, which Jimmy
crushed easily.  Same with the phone, crumbling to bits of silver and
black plastic under his foot.  We ran into the parking lot and sped out
of there in Donald's car. 

I'll never forget the look on Silky's face as we crashed through the
door of his crib.  I wasn't going to let Jimmy hurt him, but Silky
didn't know that.  We just wanted some cash, some stash, and his car,
since the cops would be looking for Donald's.  I'm pretty sure Silky
shit himself, but we didn't stay long enough to find out.  After I
grabbed my clothes and things from my room, we were out of there. 

Getting Jimmy into his skin took the better part of a night, but it was
worth it.  The motel clerk couldn't tell he wasn't human, though those
cokebottle glasses might have been a factor.  The real acid test came
at that Indian casino upstate.  I didn't want to push it, so we only
made a couple of grand at the blackjack tables.  That wasn't all Jimmy
was good at, though.  Craps, roulette, even the slots.  But the cash
cow was the sports book.  After watching six straight hours of
SportsCenter, Jimmy made his NFL picks.  We cleaned up that Sunday. 

It was that weekend that I discovered Jimmy's little secret: the more
he fucked, the smarter he got.  His intelligence would start to fade
after a few hours, of course, but as long as I kept him satisfied he
could speak complete sentences.  Sometimes he'd get a little
repetitive, like telling the same jokes over and over, but we were out
to make money, not do stand-up comedy.  So long as Jimmy Bot got his
nut three times a day, no one would ever know he was a robot. 

I knew the good times wouldn't last forever, though, so I milked it for
all I could.  Jimmy was a machine and all machines break down
eventually.  When that happened, there would be no one to repair him
for me.  It wasn't like I could go back to Alex and Donald and ask them
to fix him, right? 

When the end came, it was after six years on the road, travelling from
one casino to the other, from Vegas to AC, summers at Foxwoods, winters
on the Redneck Riviera.  I thought about getting Jimmy a passport,
maybe work Monte Carlo and Southern France, but there was no way he'd
pass through an airport metal detector and I wasn't about to fly with
him as checked baggage, stuffed into a box in the cargo hold. 

It was at Mohegan Sun when Jimmy finally expired, the day before
Superbowl Sunday.  We were in bed together.  I was riding his shiny
shaft, sliding up and down on his pulsating pole, hoping to get him off
before dinner and the evening show.  He seemed close; his eyes were
doing that blinking thing.  Suddenly, he seized up and there was a
grinding sound coming from inside his chest.  My heart froze.  I knew
this day was coming but that didn't make it any easier. 

"Fuck, Jimmy!  Come on!  Don't die on me now, baby."  Tears began to
fill my eyes as I beat on his chest with my fists, hoping to pound the
pump that served as his heart back to life.  His cock was still inside
me, pumping out fluid, its pulsations growing erratic. 

"Cunt," he gasped.  "Cunt.  Puss..."

And that was it.  The glow faded from his eyes.  His skin began to grow
cold.  The flow of fluid from his cock stopped and his erection waned. 

Jimmy Bot was dead.

I held him for a while, my tears streaming down my cheek and wetting
his synthetic skin, thinking about that night in the laboratory, the
words I'd whispered in his ear before we broke out of his chamber.  I
lifted my head and looked at his lifeless eyes one last time before
repeating those words. 

"I love you."