Second-Rate
Tina felt her main power turn on. She awakened and her mouth opened slightly, a leftover start-up script intended to arouse whoever activated her. Looking around, she saw she was surrounded by disassembled robot parts, tools, towels, grease, and computers. In less than a second, she recognized that she was inside "Ready Ratchet", a discount fembot repair shop owned and operated by her friend Lori. Tina was laying on a workbench, naked, with her chest panel open and spiraling red and black power cables directly connected to her battery terminals. Everything below her waist had been disconnected, and from her limited vantage point, she couldn't tell where her legs had gone. "Why am I here?" Tina asked out loud. Lori peeked out from the other side of a status monitor. "I was about to ask you the same thing."
Lori walked over toward the workbench. Unlike Tina, Lori used to be human. She was a natural tinkerer who loved her work as a robot mechanic. Lori built her first fembot at the age of 14. At 18, she had herself converted into a fembot of her own design: she shunned lightweight composites and artificial flesh in favor of a wrought-steel frame with chrome highlights and painted-on flames. Tina often joked that Lori looked more like a motorcycle than a fembot. Not coincidentally, even though Lori was only 5-foot-6 and a medium build, her garish robot body weighed three hundred pounds.
"Some bozo dumped you off at my front door. Most of your circuits were toast! It took me two days to turn you on, and it will be two more days until you're good to go. What the hell did you do, grab a power line?" Tina's memory-recovery protocols were already hard at work, piecing together the events of Saturday night...
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Tina had been flirting with the bouncer for some time, partly because of her outgoing personality programming, and partly out of genuine romantic interest. She didn't know much about him, but she knew his name was Brian, and he was an ex-military mandroid who started working private security three years ago. He was built like a linebacker and had no hair on his obviously-artificial head. Despite his intimidating exterior, he seemed like a nice guy who always treated the ladies with the utmost respect and courtesy.
Unlike most of the girls who worked for the Kitten Club, Tina kept her clothes on. Her body was a very standard factory-produced fembot model: 5-foot-10, skinny, busty, and blonde. A walking cliché. Even though she considered herself just as hot as the dancers, customers don't want to see the same body design over and over again, so Tina was hired as a cocktail waitress. That was fine by her, since her cleavage-revealing uniform and flirtatious personality software earned her plenty of tips all the same.
Five months after Tina started working at the Kitten Club, Brian was hired as a bouncer. Tina and most of the other girls took notice immediately, but Tina had the advantage: the dancers had conversation skills comparable to farm equipment. It was only a matter of time before Brian responded to her advances, and sure enough: just a few weeks later, Tina was in Brian's car, and they were fumbling with each-other's clothes.
"Woah, what's that?!" Tina stammered. She had seen some manbot "hardware" before, but this one was in a class of its own. "It's a Mark-IV. I had it installed in my last tour overseas. You can't even get it in this country."
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"Hey, wait, stop, time out!" Lori interrupted Tina's story. "He just whipped it out? Where's the foreplay? Where's the romance? I thought you said he was a nice guy!" "I thought he was! He just seemed like... a different person when we started making out in his car. Anyway, I was already running a pleasure program, so I was practically begging for his cock." "Still no excuse for him to act like that." said Lori, leaning forward, "Maybe he has really lousy sex programming. Or maybe he's just a jerk to begin with, and he's running a charisma program at work to pick up girls." "I don't know and I don't fucking care! Do you want to hear what happened, or not?" "Yes. Right. Sorry. Go on."
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As Brian gently inserted himself, a warning popped into the back of Tina's mind: Caution: genital interface exceeds recommended limits.
That's the best warning I've ever had, she thought with a grin.
Brian's slow, rhythmic thrusts were incredible. What he lacked in technique, he made up for in hardware, and then some. Lori lost track of time against the waves of pleasure, as their artificial sexes moved in perfect unison. At one point, Tina felt a twinge of electricity stimulate her whole pussy, all the way out to her clit.
"What... was that?" Tina asked between huffs of excited breath.
"It's a feature, baby."
"Do it again."
"Just a sec."
Moments later, there was a bigger surge; she felt it throughout her pelvis and down to her knees. Warnings started going off in Tina's head, multiple secondary systems were being overloaded by these electric spikes.
"Oooh, not so hard, please."
Brian smiled. His thrusts quickened.
"Ahhh, I want it!"
"Here it comes."
A enormous electrical surge filled Tina's body. Her circuits overloaded from head to toe, and warnings flooded her perception. Her power core's fuses all blew simultaneously, stopping her movement at once. Artificial cum pumped into her plastic womb. As her capacitors' power faded and her vision dimmed, paralyzed and helpless, she could hear Brian mutter: "Second-rate junk."
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Lori's three hundred pound frame crashed to the floor, shaking the workshop. She was laughing too hard to stand up. "It's not funny!" "Are you kidding?! It's hilarious! It's the old stereotype of fembots who overload when they orgasm! That shit never happens in real life, only in fiction!" Lori continued laughing. "It wasn't like that! I didn't even orgasm! His fucking... thing electrocuted me or something." Lori picked herself up, still chuckling. She waved her hand dismissively. "I know, I know. It's just the visual of you with your eyes and your mouth wide open, frozen mid-gasp..." She giggled again. "Oh my God shut up, Lori!" Lori recovered, and her expression hardened. "Brian was right when he said you can't get hardware like that in this country, and for a good reason. It can cause serious damage to fembots, and just a tiny bit of that would be life-threatening to human women." "Why would someone even install something like that?" Lori shrugged. "Probably related to what I said earlier. Some guy who wants to live out his fantasy of fucking a fembot and watching her short-out on his cock." "I'm just... I'm so mad..." saline-solution tears welled up in Tina's eyes. "No time for tears, darling," said Lori. With a quick fluid motion, she tapped her tablet three times. "Emotion emulation disabled." Tina said in a robotic monotone. She turned to Lori, still monotone: "Thanks. I was about to cry." "You're welcome. But seriously, that creep is a menace to society. Something's got to be done." "Like what? Call the police?" "Those cocksuckers will probably laugh harder than I just did. Hell, they'll probably high-five the guy for getting his rocks off inside you while you were lit up like a Christmas tree." Her emotions still disabled, Tina didn't even blink at the offensive remark. Lori continued: "No, I think I have a better idea..."
Tina had seen that look before. Lori's eyes were shifting to-and-fro, invisible machinations being assembled in the forge of her prodigious mind. The sort of expression Doctor Frankenstein would have, if he were a fembot with painted-on flames. If Tina could feel fear anymore, she would have shuddered with dread. "Oh, and where are my legs?"
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"I'm glad to see you again, babe" Brian embraced Tina, "You didn't look so good last time." "It's my fault," Tina lied, "I just couldn't handle how manly you are." "I got real scared," Brian went on, "I knew your friend would fix you up, so I left you with her. I would have been there for you but, you know, I have obligations." Tina knew he was full of shit. "Thanks for caring, Brian. You're so sweet. I has hoping we could try again, maybe tonight?"
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"How do you know he will take the bait?" asked Tina, as Lori was reattaching her left leg. "Are you kidding me? That sucker won't believe his luck that you would go back to him after that." "Does he really think I'm that dumb?" "Darling, that Mark-IV dong of his does his thinking for him. Trust me. Keep on being a bionic bimbo and it will be easier than reintegrating a class-B servo."
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Tina had never reintegrated a class-B servo, but she pushed Lori's idiosyncratic metaphor out of her head as she started making out with Brian in his car. He reached up her shirt and squeezed her synthetic tits. He was groping around like a first-timer, but hey: it was more foreplay than she got last time. "I want it," Tina's pleasure programming made her say. "What do you want?" "You know what I want. Ahh, where are you hiding it?" "Are you sure you want it?" "Ahh, it's all I can think about." She unzipped his pants with her teeth. With the Mark-IV exposed, she pushed Brian onto his back. "This time, I'm on top." She disregarded her system's warnings as she settled onto his mechanical member, already crackling with electricity.
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"The Mark-IV isn't a particularly sophisticated design," Lori explained, "it's really just an over-sized capacitor. What makes it unusual is the sheer power requirements. I'm guessing he discharged half of his total battery charge into you all at once. In addition to, well, you know." "Yeah yeah, haw haw." Tina wasn't amused. "So what, should I make him wear a rubber?" "Just the opposite. Increase the power draw. Make it too easy to drain power into you." "Won't it stop itself?" "This was an under-the-table augmentation in some third-world country," Lori's eyes were alight, "I'm guessing they went around the typical procedures, and hooked the Mark-IV into his primary power unit without going through his safety fuses." Tina had no idea what that meant, but it sounded ominous.
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Brian was nearing the point of orgasm, but Tina only seemed to like it more. Last time, his ever-larger surges made her malfunction. This time was different, and it only made him want to add more power. He could see it now: Tina's body would shudder, her tits bouncing around as her eyes widened. Maybe her panels would fly open in an emergency heat-dispersion protocol. Brian charged up his cock for another, larger power surge when he was met with a warning: Caution: Main power critically low. Cease activity and recharge. What? No! Brian's face betrayed his worry. Something's wrong! Tina saw his distress. Too late. "What's the matter? Is your hardware second-rate junk?"
It was a masterpiece of electronic architecture. Lori's proudest achievement. Contemporary experimental military vehicle designs are capable of overcoming electronic countermeasures by gathering renegade charges into a single insulated field throughout the vehicle's superstructure, rather than burdening a single battery or capacitor. Lori had managed to rebuild Tina's electrical systems from the ground up, emulating this effect while also making it pleasurable for the fembot. By saying the trigger phrase, "second-rate junk", Tina's systems discharged enough electricity to cripple a jet fighter. Into Brian.
The sound was like a cannon shot, its report echoing off buildings miles away. The windows of Brian's car were blown out, and its airbags deployed. Car alarms could be heard in the distance. Tina pulled herself off of Brian, making one last moan of pleasure as he slipped out, and re-engaged her auditory sensors (which were disabled a fraction of a second before the blast, to prevent hearing damage). His eyes were open, his mouth agape, his Mark-IV glowing hot. Tina's synthetic juices were sizzling on Brian's tip, which remained erect where it had fused together. She considered uninstalling it and keeping it as a toy, but after a moment, she thought "Nah."
"It's just second-rate junk."