My Sex Robot

It started with loneliness and rejection.

Women didn't want me, so I found things to despise about them, and gloated at the curdling of their beauty as the years passed.

Still, we men have needs. These days, why bother with an actual woman (nagging, bleeding, farting - gross!) who will go grey and flabby and cold?

A robot is clean and stays hot. It can be programmed to desire you, or to beg you to stop, or both if that's what you want.

So I treated myself. I went to the best company, with the slickest website.

Buttons and sliders on my computer screen allowed me to design her/it to my taste. Height and body type, hair colour and style, personality, even the colour and position of its nipples.

Titties: fully right, disproportionate gargantuan monstrosities; unrealistic, fetish territory. Fully left, and a warning flagged up that this would not be a safe model to take out in public. It would attract attention from the authorities. They'd still sell it to me though. For a price.

I customised every aspect of every part of her, but hit "Lucky Dip" for her eyes. I wouldn't be looking at them much.

When she/it came, I could hardly contain myself. Literally. I named it Ella, after my high school crush who laughed at me.

I took a week off work so we could get acquainted, and we did everything together. After a lifetime of hearing "no", it was a blessed relief to hear "yes" to anything and everything I wanted to try. Then I wanted to hear "no" again. The tablet that came with her allowed me to program the response I wanted, or I could use the "Feeling Lucky" option. It was recommended to men who wanted to practise and graduate on to real women, but why would I bother?

After a month, a memory stick was delivered in the post. It contained a highlight reel of our time together and a blackmail letter outlining tasks for me to complete.

Sickened, I shoved Ella in the attic, then watched helplessly as my monthly repayments increased and footage of me appeared on the websites I used to enjoy so much.

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Word count (excluding note): 366

Submitted on 4th February at 4:58AM

*Quick Author's Note*

Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment so I can reciprocate. Your thoughtful engagement is appreciated. If you enjoyed this, the best compliment you can give is to share it, or read another.

The story behind the story: This is my first submission this month in honour of Valentine's Day, which I despise. It's also in response to my own prompt, which is also a challenge: Write a story about a sex robot.

Here's the challenge, if you'd like to take part (I can't judge myself, so I'm out!):

A Prompt and a CHALLENGE - February

• Write me a story about a sex robot
• Make it rude, make it clever, make me squirm (you know I hate erotica). Explore themes of sexuality, consent and psychology, have a message and paint it in metallic red lipgloss that won't smudge.
• Submit to Filthy, Sci Fi, or fiction
• Word limit the same as the others - 300-366!
• Link to it in the comments
• Closing date is the 28th
• Judging on the 29th
• $10 to the winner and $5 to a runner up

I first posted about this here.

My "story every day" project: I'm writing a story every day this year. This one makes a 35 day streak. You can find all of them in my Index post. It's also pinned to the top of my profile.

If you're joining me on this "story every day" madne adventure, please leave a link to yours in the comments. Whether you're on a creative bent, like me, and writing mostly microfiction/stories, or whether you have your own, self-imposed criteria, I'd love to see what you come up with for today. I'll try to come back and edit this to link to your piece at the bottom.

If you'd like to buy the cow, (or get more free milk on Kindle Unlimited):