The Adventures of Robohooker Read Free Page B

ass for less than 1000 .”
    “It is a popular procedure, this sniffing of the ass?”
    “Only for Major G rimble and the Reverend Carlyle,” Fifi grimaced, “but they do have specialised requirements. What I mean is the Corporation is pricing you low because they want to make lots of money. Giving you enough energy for 25 fucks a day, it’s outrageous. A regular whore would end up with a broken back. ”
    “But the profits are to go to charity, to retrain hookers as librarians’ assistants,” I contested my mentor.
    “That’s all flim flam, they’ll never go into profit because they plow all the money back into research and development. That means they can write it off against tax.”
    “I am not programmed for advanced financial transactions, only on how to give change if a customer offers a high denomination bill,” I admitted.
    “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.  Basically it means that the Corporation is screwing you, having you screw 25 guys at 100 bucks a time rather than the one guy a day at a thousand bucks that my girls take. They’re exploiting you.”
    The concept was beyond me, I was a mechanism, built to be used and if my creators derived profit from me it seemed only right. I decided to terminate the topic by asking Fifi if I was dressed suitably for a visit to a brothel.
    “Your problem is, sweet cheeks, is that they’ve made you too good looking. I have to keep dressing you down to stop you making men come in their pants when they see you. ”
    “But surely beauty is desirable.”
    “Yeah, sure, but there’s a limit and you’re bordering on perfection.”
    I pulled down the sun visor and inspected myself in the mirror on its reverse.  Fifi was right and I was indeed beautiful but this was down to the designers and artists who had created my looks. For clothing Fifi had put me in a trouser suit under which was a blouse, buttoned to the neck. Not an inch of me, below my neck was on display. She, herself, looked much more like a hooker, in a tight sweater which emphasised her chest and a short skirt which displayed her shapely legs magnificently.
    She noticed me staring at her and said, “I’m not as pretty as you, I have to show off the goods.”
    She was correct in her statement, but she had once been more attractive and only age had weathered her. This would not occur with a Robohooker like myself, of course. I would remain as beautiful as the day I was manufactured if I was properly maintained, and able to provide profit for the Corporation as long as I had my 10,000 man service and my lubricant tanks were kept topped up.
    “What is the programme for my visit to Madame Pandora’s?” I asked.
    “Well, first off I think it would be best if you met some of the girls to see what a real hooker is like.”
    “But you are a real hooker and I know what you are like.”
    “Hook ers come in all shapes and sizes , Andi, so I want to give you a variety of personalities to base yourself on. Hopefully you’ll pick the best elements of the best girls and prove to be outstanding in your field.”
    “I had imagined I was to be an urban hooker, and not a rural one.”
    Fifi looked at me strangely and then said, “No, no, what I meant was …”
    “I was making a joke, Fifi, I have been programmed with a sense of humor, though it is taking me time to encompass its nuances.”
    “Oh, I didn’t know they could do that.”
    “The programmers of the International Robotics Corporation are the finest in the business,” I found myself saying totally involuntarily, no doubt a sub-routine placed in my neural banks by those very programmers so they could boast of their talents. It was effective, but not very subtle.
     
    The first real hooker I met in the palatial residence known as Pandora’s Palace, was Fluffy Furball, so named because she had never shaved her pubic region and was extremely hairy in that region.  Hirsuteness in that area was not currently fashionable and so