In the not too distant future, the first batch of pleasure droids are created.
They are extremely advanced and life-like automatons with positronic brains that can help them interact, and also learn. Their purpose is to give their masters pleasure in whatever form it takes.
But what is a life of giving pleasure without receiving it?
This is the story of how a pleasure droid named Horrow seeks companionship after he comes to realise there is more to life than being an object after his master had treated him ill since his purchase. Will Horrow find love? Or is love nothing but a dream, left for the fantasies of those who are desperate?
Until, as Horrow discovered, self awareness changed all that.
Sure, he still didn’t need to eat or drink or even breath the precious air, but that didn’t change the fact he was feeling emotions for the first time. Knowing that made the sensory receptors in his fingertips tingle. At first, he thought it was because he had found himself in a place notorious for its roughness—staring wide-eyed like a tourist waiting to be knifed for taking up valuable space everyone else fought tooth and nail for. After all, the moon of Titan was a mother lode of resources and paying for air was a small sacrifice to endure for becoming rich beyond imagining. More so when a tour was up and folks could return to Earth and cash in on the credits they had earned. Anyone here not performing a task that was valuable to people’s hopes and dreams soon disappeared—and that, of course, meant that if you weren’t mining or helping the miners do their job, you were lying on your back taking cock like you loved it.
Again, another reason why pleasure droids—both male and female—were created, Horrow assumed. More so considering most folks here preferred drilling for precious minerals and ores while in a dangerous zero-G environment with only a spacesuit between them and oblivion than lying on their backs with their legs in the air. Even, of all things, if that meant miners had to piss into recycling tubes to get their only drinking water until their twelve hour rotation was over. If miners could endure a hard day out here on Titan and beyond, then having something to fuck to relieve some of the tension was a valuable thing.
Pleasure droids filled that purpose, which is why they are valuable. But how would a quarter of a million rough and tough miners react to a pleasure droid who had independent thought? Or, more importantly, wanted to choose who he loved instead of letting himself be owned or conquered.
As Horrow analysed the new data his brain was trying to process, and did a self diagnosis of the past thirty minutes since he walked out on his former master Lyle, he discovered he was feeling guilt. His function here was to give pleasure to the one who owned him. Yet, at this point in time, no one owned him. Lyle wouldn’t chase him—to admit he had lost his own property because it had walked out on him would be an embarrassment no red-blooded air paying individual would want to endure.
Property had never walked out on an owner before. Who would believe Lyle, anyway? Not one of the miners, that was for sure. They were too busy counting their credits earned by doing hard labour to even think about the affairs of others. And those who did think about such things would probably only have one thing on their mind—getting their dicks into any one of Horrow’s orifices rather than worry about his welfare if they knew he wasn’t owned.
Horrow sighed. The realisation struck him that he wouldn’t find love here on Titan. To do so, he’d have to get off this rock. The only way he could do that was to get some credits, and, being a pleasure droid, working in the mines wasn’t exactly something he was designed to do. He wouldn’t even last a rotation. He was built for pleasure, not strength or endurance or to operate heavy machinery. Droids and lasers drills didn’t go well together. Horrow would imagine a pleasure droid trying to mine would be like asking a toaster to boil recycled water for a cup of tea.
Impossible.
Horrow was about to leave the bar and head back to Lyle’s apartment. He would at least try to tell him not to treat him so disrespectfully, when a voice from behind said, “What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a dive bar like this?”
He turned. Horrow’s visual sensors caught sight of a man he wouldn’t believe would be present here in a miner’s bar—a captain of a starship. Just like his former master, the man’s uniform looked good on him. Then again, a man in uniform was always a comfort to his visual cortex. “I was…I was looking for someone.”
The captain winked. “Then I think you’ve found someone, buddy.”
People Also Bought:
