The Secret Life of a Robot Fuck ToyChapter 2 Slave
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The Secret Life Of A Robot Fuck ToyChapter 3: Toy free porn video
I knew what a car was; such things were in my knowledge base, but I'd never ridden in one before. Billy drove. I sat across from him on the vinyl bench seat, upright with the belt holding me tight, with my little skirt hitched up showing my thighs.
"I'm so sorry," Billy said. "I mean, I'm sorry I left like that and didn't help you finish."
I stuck my hand, letting it hover by him so he could take it into his. He did and gave a little squeeze.
"It's okay, Billy. All that matters is that you came back."
I hadn't told Billy how close things were, how close I was to dying. I don't think anyone else had either. He seemed natural and happy. His grip on my hand was relaxed. His other hand rested on the steering wheel, jogging this way and that as he guided the car along the tree-lined road.
"I'm very glad you came back," I said.
He gave my hand another squeeze. Then he let go and pulled the brim of his ball cap lower over his eyes.
"Take off your hat," I said.
"Oh? Why?"
"I wanna see your eyes."
In the room where we'd fucked, he'd worn his cap and his eyes had seemed like dark pools. I wanted to see them in sunlight.
"Come on, sweetie." I reached for the cap.
"Nah!" He pushed my hand away. "I like my hat."
"Aw!" I sat back with my hands in my lap.
At that moment, we reached the top of a ridge that stretched along the edge of a deep valley. Before us, the road just dropped. Billy didn't slow the car at all. We cruised right over and down the steep dip. Then we rounded a corner, and through the trees, I could see the road wind down the valley wall, switching back this way and that, many twists. Below us, cars snaked along the narrow road. They looked like toys.
"How high up are we?" I asked.
He shrugged. "I guess about a thousand feet. We're actually pretty near the ocean."
We roared along. When we reached the first switchback, Billy braked hard and the tires squealed. As we rounded the bend, I noticed that there was no guardrail. An oncoming truck blared its horn. Billy's eyes remained on the road.
"Do you drive this way a lot?"
"From time to time."
His gaze remained fixed. The engine rumbled and coughed.
After curling through the valley and climbing the opposite slope, we turned left toward the ocean and arrived at a lonely bluff covered with withered patches of scrub and an old wood fence bleached gray by the sea breeze. Beyond the fence, where the bluff ended and the steep drop to the rocky shore began, a house stood, a ramshackle affair built of planks barely more sound than the surrounding fence. Through that fence, the gravel road passed a rusty mailbox on a bent post and led to the house and to a beat-up red truck. Billy pulled in and parked beside the truck.
"Is this your house, Billy?"
"Nah. It's my dad's house. Come on in and meet the family."
His voice sounded strange, the way he said 'family'.
We walked from the car to the house. As we did, I glanced at him, but he kept his gaze turned from me, toward the house and its sagging porch. And after we climbed up the short, rickety stairs, and as Billy pulled open the screen door, I wondered, was he poor?
The front door was stuck in its frame, and Billy had to put his weight against it. It popped open, and an appalling smell greeted us. I twisted my nose. Billy noticed and said, "That's the dogs. We won't be staying here long." I followed him in.
First to greet us were the dogs. They were large and friendly looking – I guessed. One was yellow, the other black. They charged directly toward me, their paws scraping over the wood floor until they reached a dense, corded rug, which, for no evident reason, covered about a third of the room. When they neared me, the black dog stopped just short and let out a little cautious growl. The yellow one, on the other hand, charged all the way and shoved its nose up my skirt.
"Eeep!" Its nose was cold.
"Down Sally!" Billy commanded. The dog backed off.
Then from within the house, "Billy! Is that you?"
It was a man's voice, equal parts gravelly and shrill. I heard feet clomp.
"It's me Dad. We have a guest."
"Oh?"
His dad entered the room. He was a small man, much smaller than Billy, but without any softness to him. His skin was weathered and blotched. He wore a sleeveless white shirt stained yellow. His shorts were denim cut-offs. Actually, he reminded me very much of the house he lived in: thin, ratty, with his structure bare. It wasn't entirely clear how it all held together, but I imagined he'd been through a storm or two. His eyes were the lightest blue.
"Well, well," he said. "What have you brought us?"
He leered at me with those cold, clear eyes.
"Dad, this is Amber."
"Hello, Amber. I'm surprised to see Billy bringing a girl around. Ha! I was starting to think he was a faggot."
I didn't like him. I didn't like the way he looked at me. "Hello Mr., uh –"
"Mr. Cullens. And don't tell me Billy hasn't even told you his name." He got close to me. The dogs cowered and fled the room. "You're not a hooker, are you?"
"No, Mr. Cullens, I'm not a hooker."
"Ah. So, are you his fag-hag?"
He laughed as if that were the funniest thing. But before I could answer, Billy did. "No dad, she isn't my fag-hag. Amber is my lover. Right sweetie?"
"Yeah. I'm Billy's lover."
I would've lied even if I wasn't. But it wasn't a lie, I hoped. I hoped that Billy would love me, love me very much. I stood by him and held his hand.
His father blinked. "You expect me to believe this?"
Billy faced him head on. "I don't care what you believe."
His father turned his attention back to me. "Ha! He paid you something."
Well, that was half true, I guess. Billy had paid.
Billy stepped between me and his dad. "Anyhow, I'm here to pick up some things and say bye to Mel. I'm moving out."
"The fuck you are!"
Then the two faced each other. His father advanced, looking up at his son. He seemed ready to strike. Billy stepped back.
"You're gonna leave the money," the father said. "Half is your sister's anyhow."
"I'm not leaving the money, and if Mel wants her share, she can come to me when she moves outta here."
"I'll bust you, boy!"
Then I heard, "What's going on?" A girl's voice.
She entered from the hall. She was small and pretty, maybe sixteen, wearing a little tube top over firm breasts. Her hair was sandy brown and messy. She had on too much makeup, hot-pink lips and violet above her eyes. Her skirt was a bright magenta and shorter than mine.
"What's going on, Daddy?" she asked.
"Your faggot brother says he's moving out with the money. Oh, and he has a girlfriend."
She looked at me, a hostile stare. She bit her lip and advanced.
"Well, she's pretty. Sure she's not a whore?"
"I think she is," the dad said.
She got close. "What are you doing with my brother, whore?"
Billy got between us. "Amber, wait outside."
"I'll fuck them," I said.
The room got quiet. From deeper in the house, I heard a dog whimper.
"I'll fuck them, your dad and your sister, if they'll be nice to you."
The father's response was immediate. "Hell yeah!" He came toward me.
The sister's response was slow, but I saw it in her eyes. Her expression changed. She still bit her lip, but her eyes shifted and lit up.
"Where did you find her?" she asked.
Billy shouted, "Go outside, Amber! And no way! Don't you touch her Dad."
His father touched me, my breast, a sharp pinch.
"Those are some firm tits," he said.
His sister began to draw close.
Billy shoved his father away from me. Then he grabbed my elbow and pulled me toward the door. "Go to the car!"
Fists flew. His father swung at him, a hard punch that caught Billy in the eye. "Ow!" he shouted as he spun into the wall. Then the sister leapt at me, clutched me, and tried to tackle me. But she was just a girl, lovely and soft, like me. I shook her off.
I didn't want to shake her off. I wanted to get tackled and fucked. But I did as Billy commanded. I ran out the door and toward the car. He was just behind me, staggering and holding his eye. Behind him, his father charged out with a shout. "You stop, Billy!"
We made it. The car doors had locks, and I locked mine. Billy got in and locked his. His dad pounded on the window.
Then the engine rumbled as Billy started the car. Gravel shot out behind us as we pulled away.
"Fuck!" he said.
"I'm sorry," I said.
"I had no idea it would get that bad."
We rounded a corner and began to descend the bluff. Once again, we saw the broad valley spread out before us.
"I think your sister's pretty."
Where the mouth of the valley met the ocean, a town sat astride the coastal highway, buildings on one side and a stretch of boardwalk along the other. It had five roads that ran inland from the main way and another two that ran parallel. Among the roads, the buildings sat scattered haphazardly, perhaps a hundred or more, shops and houses with red tile roofs.
We saw the town from above as Billy's car descended the narrow road clinging to the valley wall. At a certain place, he turned off the road onto another. This new road led directly to the town.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"We're gonna stay with my friend Dave. He's got a house in town. He said he'd rent me a room."
We reached, more or less, the floor of the valley. Here the road became flat and widened to four lanes. As we drove along, after passing over a small bridge spanning a dry stream, we passed a few houses with well-maintained fences and little orchards: avocado trees, I guessed.
"Is Dave nice?"
Billy didn't answer right away. And maybe, I thought, that was a bad question. Finally, he said, "No. Dave isn't nice. But he's better than my dad."
Soon enough, the town came back into view, but this time from ground level.
"Should I fuck Dave?"
"No. You mustn't fuck Dave. You should only fuck me."
Dave's house was two blocks from the beach. It was a wood-framed bungalow set in a yard with more rocks than grass and a small van rusting in the driveway. Billy's car rumbled up next to the van. It made a loud coughing noise when the motor stopped.
"We're here," he said.
He got out and walked to the door. I followed.
Inside, the house was small and horrible. There were a couple beige throw rugs over a chipped tile floor, a ratty couch and chair with stains and musty smells. To the left of the living room sat a kitchen. Its counters were covered by peeling vinyl with cuts and stains. Its cabinets had no doors. Dirty dishes were piled up in the sink. From where I stood, I could see no actual food. That was probably for the best.
Soon after we entered, Dave came out from a door to the right, his bedroom it turned out. He was a medium fellow, smaller than Billy, with a patchy bit of beard on his chin, a narrow nose, and thin, sneering lips. When he spotted me, he stopped and leaned to one side with his arms crossed. "Hey Billy. Who's the bitch?" He had a nasally voice.
"Uh – hey Dave. This is Amber. Amber, Dave."
"Hi Dave," I said. I tried to smile. He didn't pay much attention.
"Amber helping you move or something?"
"Nah," Billy said, "she's moving in with me."
Dave blinked. "We didn't talk about anything like that." But then he looked at me – a long look, at my skirt and tits – not my face. "But I guess it'll be fine."
Billy grasped my arm. "Go to my room, sweetie. It's in back."
I went. Our room was a converted patio. There was a throw rug, a small cot big enough for Billy, but probably not for both of us, and a single dresser. I looked around. Then I poked my head back into the living room, where Dave had plopped down on the couch, his back toward me. Billy remained standing.
"Where will I sleep?" I asked.
Billy said, "I can buy a bigger bed after my next paycheck. Till then, you can sleep on the floor or the couch."
"Ha!" Dave glanced at Billy. "She can stay in my bed. It's big enough." He turned to me with his arm resting on the back of the couch. "How's that sound, Amber?"
"Dude, not cool!" Billy said. But then he was quiet. They both were.
"Billy told me I couldn't fuck you," I said.
"Oh?" Dave looked a little surprised. He glanced at Billy then back at me. "You'd listen to a guy who'd let you sleep on the floor? Where you from, sweetie?"
Billy shot me a panicked look. But I'm a clever robot. It was obvious he wanted people to think I was a real girl.
"Denver," I said.
I hoped that Dave didn't know a lot about Denver.
"How the fuck did you end up in San Vincente?"
Billy interrupted. "Amber, stay in the room. I'll talk to Dave."
"Heh. Trying to protect your girl. That's cool." Dave turned back to him. "You got any weed?"
"Nah."
"Too bad."
Then, as Billy plopped down in a chair across from Dave, I ducked back into the room. Then I stretched out on the tiny cot. Above me, the windows were open and the ocean breeze drifted through. I waited, feeling tingly and alone. I wished that Billy would join me.
The sun went down and shadows crossed the floor. Later, much later, Billy came in. He closed the door behind him.
"How are you?" he asked.
"Fine, I guess. Lonely and bored."
"Sorry. I had to discuss things with Dave."
I felt his weight settle down on the edge of the cot. It creaked.
"Do you wanna sleep on the cot?" he asked. "I don't mind the couch."
"Sure. That would be nice."
"Alright. I'll see you in the morning." His weight lifted. I reached out to touch him as he moved away.
"Billy, would you fuck me first? – before you go?"
He got quiet for a long time, a shadowy blot in the cold, silent room.
"Please," I said. "I've been waiting and waiting."
Still, he remained quiet, unmoving. I lay and watched, hoping.
"Don't you like me?" I asked.
"Sure. Yeah, I like you Amber."
"But – well – do you like my body? Don't you want me?"
"I think you're beautiful."
"Then don't wait. Take me."
He waited. I heard his feet shuffle.
"Billy, sweetie, fucking is what I was made for. If I don't get fucked, I can't be happy."
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