slapped hands with Pimp Dog as he met him outside of the apartment building
that was known as the Pimp Dog Brothel. The two brown skinned black men were
meeting for Craig's usual Tuesday night appointment.
"Man," said Pimp Dog, "I got me the best piece of tail you could ever want, dog, ever want! Right 'chere. You check dis out and I gair-runn-tee you won't want you no real woman no more!" He motioned to the
blond white girl standing next to him.
Craig checked the young woman out from head to toe. He was standing in the middle of the red light district of New DC. Since the Washington DC Metro Area had declared itself an independent nation
in 2088, prostitution had become legal. All flesh pedaling was practiced in the Red Zone, a section of the city set aside for adult sex businesses. It was a place where a quick exchange of cash could have any trick indulging in the fetish of his choice. The dirty and grime from unkempt streets, the dust from crumbling 20th century buildings and the weird smells that floated in the air from the combinations of various body fluids did nothing to deter the
average Zoner. There were even rumors that some tricks lived in the red zone by selling one part of their bodies so they could gratify another, but Craig had chalked all of that up to urban legend.
He'd also thought the robot prostitutes were urban legend until he saw one in the flesh. Or, should I say, in the synthetic flesh.
"She alright man," he said, rubbing his hand on his brown bald head, "But come on. First of all, she's a robot, and second of all, she's white. I ain't ever been with no white girl before, Pimp Dog."
"What??? N*gg*, you mean to tell me that this here is the 23rd century and we still got some little young buck talking about what color a woman is? Sh** man, p***y is p***y, it's all pink on the inside and we all black when the lights go off!" Pimp dog laughed the deep, gutteral laugh of misogyny, then took a hit off of his joint. "Whew, man, this is some good weed right 'chere. They flew this in off one of those illegal weed colonies on da moon. They say they grow it in moon dust. Well it sure get you high, though, for real!"
Craig grabbed the robo-whore by the shoulders and turned her around. He inspected her head to toe, making note of every inch of her body. Her blond hair felt real enough, and her skin, while light, was not too pale for his pleasure. He felt her legs and buttocks, then determined that she passed inspection. He turned her around again
and looked at her face. She had an all-American white girl look about her with a strong chin and pale blue eyes. Her face was expressionless, the same blase' look he'd seen in the eyes of the black human whores he'd been with. Were it not for the bar code on the top of her head, he would have taken her as fully human.
"Okay, bet Pimp Dog. How much you want for her?" asked Craig.
"A robo-hump is 500 credits my man," said Pimp Dog as he grabbed the collars on his suit, strutting like a peacock.
"Five hundred! What! You got to be crazy!" yelled Craig.
"Kid, don't you tell me you can't afford it. As many times as I see you running through here, I know you must spend that much a week, easy."
"Yeah," said Craig, "a WEEK, not on one d**n session!"
The robo-whore came to life and said in a sweet melodic voice, "I guarentee you, User Craig, I am WELLLLLL worth the purchase." She walked over too him and kiss him on the lips.
Craig lost control. He grabbed and kissed her immediately. He squeezed her like he'd lost control. The robo-whore got into him too as she began to grind her pelvis against his. After what seemed like an eternity, they finally stopped kissing. Craig stood there, breathing heavily, while the robo-whore returned to her rest mode.
Only this time, she was smiling.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you, Craig, these robots are programmed to figure out what a brother wants. They are coming out with a few new series in black, chinese, and indian in six months. I know the white boys are gonna beat down my door then!" Pimp Dog drew another hit from his joint, then said, "They also lace these robots with a synthetic sex hormone that they give off once they come in contact with your skin. I hear it makes it twice as good as the real thing."
"What? You mean you never tried it yourself?" asked Craig.
"Nope, I never use my own product, man, I'm a professional. I got me two girls I sleep with that I don't share with the customers. It's too many diseases floatin' 'round these days. That's why I'm thinking about getting more of these droid girls, 'cause they don't ever come down with anything. Only thing is that they so d**n expensive!"
Craig was fixated on the robo-whore, staring at her with a hungry look of lust. "Okay man, five-hundred it is." He gave Pimp Dog a credit card. "This one ought to cover it". Pimp Dog walked over to his car, reached in and swiped it through his credit box on the dash board. A green light flashed, and the words "Approved for desired credit" rang out from the machine.
"Oh, Craig, there's one more thing" said Pimp Dog, "Be sure to let her scan your thumb print on the black box near her dresser. It's a finger print terminal for the internet. If there is anything bad or weird about you that's been put on the net, like you got a disease or a jail record or the feds want you, the robo-ho won't do you. In that case, I'll let you have two real women, no problem."
"H**l yeah!" yelled Craig. He grabbed the robo-whore by the hand and led her inside the slummy apartment building that served as Pimp Dog's brothel.
The two, human and droid, walked though the open door and up a pair of cracked steps. She led him to her apartment door. After opening it with her fascard, she led Craig through a sparsely furnished living room and into the bedroom. She laid him on the bed.
"Get undressed, User Craig," she said in an even more sensual tone than before. "A robo-whore serves her user for two hours. Please undress yourself and I will begin to perform for you."
Craig wasted no time getting himself completely naked. He ripped his clothes off like they were on fire.
The robo-whore walked over to the bed and sat beside him. She then grabbed his right thumb and began scanning it with the black box on the dresser. "Please wait, User Craig, while I scan for records" she
cooed. "Health record---clean. Criminal record---clean. Credit report---excellent. One mention of your name on the SexNet. Scanning.... This may take one moment. Please wait patiently." The robo-whore
closed her eyes as she analysed the contents of the ad.
"Hurry up!" snapped Craig. "I ain't got all day for you to be reading some ad about me, I'm clean, ain't I? Now
DO ME GOD DA***T!!!!"
The robo-whore smiled. "Don't you know what it says, User Craig?"
"I know what it says. It says that my wife left me because she caught me out here zoning, that's all. I read that s**t."
"Yes, it does, User Craig, and more. MUCH more. Are you sure you want to continue with this appointment?"
"B***h, get your robot a** over here now! I will read that later!"
"As you command User Craig." The robo-whore began kissing him. And touching him. And rubbing him. And....
Three hours later, Craig was near exhaustion. The robo-whore was sitting on top of him, naked and grinding her body away. Mercilessly, obsessively she thrusted him deep inside her.
Craig pleaded, "Stop! I can't take it no more! God, what are you doing
"My system injects you with a hormone that restores your erection after each one of your orgasms, User Craig. Then, when the time is up, I am programmed to finish the final copulation and let your body return to normal" she said coldly.
"But-But-But" he said with each robo-thrust, "it's been over three hours. I---only---paid for t-t-t-two. God, what are you trying to do, kill me?"
"Yes, User Craig," said the robo-whore. "I AM trying to kill you. But this is taking too long. Afixiation and sex
would be much more efficient and fulfill the requirements of the bounty." The robo-whore's body began humping him in overdrive as she began choking him.
"Help! Please! Stop!" Craig gasped. "Why! Wh--Wuh---" He tried to pry her off of him but it was no use.
"Because, User Craig, of the ad on the Sex Net. Your wife is offering one hundred thousand credits to any woman who can screw you to death. I plan on collecting that money, investing some of it and buying my way into the business with Master Pimp Dog." The robo-whore returned to her work.
Craig stopped struggling and laid frozen in shock and horror.
The robo-whore stopped humping and looked at him. Craig stared deep into her mechanical blue eyes and for the first time he saw an all-too human emotion in the android's soul: GREED.
She answered his helpless fear with a smile and said, "Now, now User Craig. I may be programmed for pleasure, but I am also programmed for PROFIT."
Three months later, a plump young red haired white girl met Pimp Dog and Heather, his new robot management partner, outside the apartment building that served as their brothel.
"So Cynthia, you have never been with a black man, correct? And you want to try out one of ours?" Heather asked.
"Yes," said the red head. "I know it sounds crazy, but it's the 23rd century, and I still am turned on by the idea of
sex with a Negro. No offense, Mr. Pimp Dog."
Pimp Dog smiled and said, "Oh no, baby, it ain't no problem. It's cool. Just bring your bidness to us, sweetheart."
"We have the perfect brother for you, Cynthia," grinned Heather. "He's a cybernetically enhanced black man. The endowments are living tissue on the outside, but inside he's been replaced with steel in just the right places. His brain is a computer chip that's been programmed to make him be a tender lover and say all the things a woman wants to hear. He's part of a new line of cyborg sex partners coming on the market. Part human, part droid, ALL LOVE."
"Oohhh" giggled Cynthia. "Please, bring him out!"
"Craig," called Heather, "come out my little robo-whore. A customer wants to meet you!" Heather smiled then said, "He's my own personal toy, but I don't mind sharing him if he will make you happy."