Page 92 of Smart Ass

Ben

Ben watched the sexbot make its way across the maintenance room. It was smiling in a friendly way and walking somewhat normally, but its eyes didn’t quite meet Ben’s. It was still naked, with miles of gleaming muscles on display, but Ben tuned them out.

Even its cock, which was unpredictably erect right now, throbbing with a purplish head and a darker variant of the bot’s golden skin, didn’t make him snicker anymore.

“How’s this?” The bot’s mouth moved in synchrony with the words.

“Facial expressions are good. I think you’re really getting the speech thing. Eye contact is off.”

“Ugh. This is infuriating.” The sound was still coming from the bot, but its face had shifted to an incongruously seductive smile and then frozen there.

“The new mods aren’t helping?” Ben went back to his own little project of trying to balance a dildo on his nose.

It was really difficult.

The thing wobbled just when he thought he had it, even though he’d chosen the stiffest one.

Maybe he should try his forehead? That had more surface area.

Ooh! And maybe if he licked the bottom, it would have some suction, too.

“I like the body language better.” Max sighed. They’d purchased a few mods to make the movements less sexualized. “I thought that decreasing the sensory input to fewer data points would help, but it’s still all noise.”

“Yeah,” Ben answered. He could totally balance a dildo on his forehead. “Hey, look at me! I’m a dildocorn!”

Max laughed, that deep, rumbling sound of delight that Ben hadn’t heard nearly enough recently.

Ben weaved back and forth, trying to keep the girthy purple thing balanced. He could just barely see it if he crossed his eyes.

He slammed into a shelf and everything shook.

More dildos rolled and fell. One hit him in the back as he bent to pick up the first one.

“It’s raining cocks!” he announced. Then he started singing. “Hallelujah! It’s raining co-ooo-ocks.”

“You’re a menace,” Max told him fondly.

“I’m a dildocorn.” He chucked the others back on the shelf and returned the purple one to his forehead. “We have magical powers.”

“Wanna magically get this bot to make sense?” Max asked.

Ben grabbed a floppy orange dildo off the shelf and waved it around, still holding the other one to his brow. “Double, double toil and trouble. Fire burn and caldron bubble. Listen to my glowing dick and… and, um, stop fucking up and making Max sick!” Hell yeah. That even rhymed.

“That was terrible.”

“Yeah, but did it work?” He poked the bot’s glistening pec a few times with his wobbly wand.

“No,” Max told him flatly.

“But you didn’t even try!”

Max huffed, but the bot came alive again, making eerily good eye contact with Ben from an uncomfortably close distance.

Ben stepped back.

“Is it working?” Max asked, sound once again synched with the mouth. Its eyes were looking right at Ben, though. Without blinking. Like they were in a staring contest.

“Maybe I need to try again,” Ben suggested, brandishing his girthy wand.