Jimmy Bot and Me 
(MF humor) 
 
(c) 2003  Anais Ninja  anais_ninja@hotmail.com  
http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/anais_ninja/index.html  
 
 
                            * * * 
 
 
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 slide 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." 
 
 
                            * * * 
 
 
(c) 2003  Anais Ninja  anais_ninja@hotmail.com  
http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/anais_ninja/index.html