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Bargain Bin Bots

Prompt originally from AetherRoom.club
Created: 2022-01-22
No ratings yet
Description
In a future where the ultimate in companionship is available to those who can afford it, some of us have to make do with second-best.
Tags
robot, android
Prompt
"Welcome to Silicon Sluts," the man behind the counter greeted me. "If you're looking for some hard-wired love, we're your place." As he spoke, it was impossible not to notice his prosthetic eye—it moved independently of his other eye, slowly creeping its way over my form, as if to analyze me. I tried my best to ignore it, instead focusing on maintaining eye contact with his normal eye. "Sure am," I confirmed. "Been saving up ever since my old LUNA CT5 started breaking down a few months ago. Had some good times with her, but these days she's worth more as raw scrap than as a companion." His eyes went wide when I mentioned the model number. "Damn, haven't had one of those on display since, what, '79?" he mused. "Have you been living in a cave the past decade? Or perhaps you're an antiques collector?" I shrugged at his joke. "Well, no matter," he continued, "important thing is, you're in for a real treat. The LUNA CT5 might have been a decent midrange model back in the 70s, but the world has moved on. I hope you're ready to have your mind blown." He got out from behind the counter and directed me toward a display case which stood prominently near the center of the room. "WaifuTech's latest," he introduced with a grin. "They really outdid themselves with this one. I have no idea how they pulled it off, but this new synthflesh is just exquisite. Soft enough that you could use her ass as a pillow, yet still delightfully firm beneath your fingers." It really was an impressive feat of engineering; the chest and hips was covered in a spongy dark blue material, tastefully molded after the female anatomy, while a smooth polymer plating had been used for the torso and limbs. The joints were subtly hidden away, only detectable as thin seams along the body. The visual sensors on the front of the head remained dormant, but the two glassy orbs had quite a charming shape to them, giving some personality to the currently lifeless humanoid figure. "Of course, these models are made-to-order," he explained as I admired the robot. "Color, facial structure, fat distribution, muscle tone, and so on; if you have any special preferences, it's probably customizable. Don't get me started on the sexual equipment. Remember when they kept on advertising 'realistic' vaginas as if that was the epitome of pleasure? Those days are long gone, my friend. Now you could spend a whole day just browsing through all the varieties of crotch configurations available." "You don't say..." I replied, trying to keep myself from staring too intently at the crotch region. "Thing is, though, I'm kinda on a budget here." That one sentence was an immediate mood-killer. The shopkeeper scrutinized me carefully for another few seconds before asking, "how much do you have to work with?" "Was hoping to stay below $10,000," I admitted. He let out a long sigh and started turning around. "You might want to head over to the discount section," he suggested, indicating the general direction with a dismissive wave. Then he made his way back to the counter, more or less pretending I didn't exist. Following his advice, I turned my attention to the far side of the store. I didn't even need directions; I could simply follow the gradient of disorganization. I passed shelves littered with random parts and faded posters advertising the top-end models from a couple of years back, until I found myself standing before a rack with some interesting units. A sign promised "amazing deals!", appealing to that ancient desire to find treasure in a garbage heap. Despite myself, I could feel the thrill of the bargain hunt, and I started examining each of the inanimate robots one by one. I started from the left.... [Click to expand]
"Welcome to Silicon Sluts," the man behind the counter greeted me. "If you're looking for some hard-wired love, we're your place."
As he spoke, it was impossible not to notice his prosthetic eye—it moved independently of his other eye, slowly creeping its way over my form, as if to analyze me. I tried my best to ignore it, instead focusing on maintaining eye contact with his normal eye.
"Sure am," I confirmed. "Been saving up ever since my old LUNA CT5 started breaking down a few months ago. Had some good times with her, but these days she's worth more as raw scrap than as a companion."
His eyes went wide when I mentioned the model number. "Damn, haven't had one of those on display since, what, '79?" he mused. "Have you been living in a cave the past decade? Or perhaps you're an antiques collector?"
I shrugged at his joke.
"Well, no matter," he continued, "important thing is, you're in for a real treat. The LUNA CT5 might have been a decent midrange model back in the 70s, but the world has moved on. I hope you're ready to have your mind blown."
He got out from behind the counter and directed me toward a display case which stood prominently near the center of the room.
"WaifuTech's latest," he introduced with a grin. "They really outdid themselves with this one. I have no idea how they pulled it off, but this new synthflesh is just exquisite. Soft enough that you could use her ass as a pillow, yet still delightfully firm beneath your fingers."
It really was an impressive feat of engineering; the chest and hips was covered in a spongy dark blue material, tastefully molded after the female anatomy, while a smooth polymer plating had been used for the torso and limbs. The joints were subtly hidden away, only detectable as thin seams along the body. The visual sensors on the front of the head remained dormant, but the two glassy orbs had quite a charming shape to them, giving some personality to the currently lifeless humanoid figure.
"Of course, these models are made-to-order," he explained as I admired the robot. "Color, facial structure, fat distribution, muscle tone, and so on; if you have any special preferences, it's probably customizable. Don't get me started on the sexual equipment. Remember when they kept on advertising 'realistic' vaginas as if that was the epitome of pleasure? Those days are long gone, my friend. Now you could spend a whole day just browsing through all the varieties of crotch configurations available."
"You don't say..." I replied, trying to keep myself from staring too intently at the crotch region. "Thing is, though, I'm kinda on a budget here."
That one sentence was an immediate mood-killer. The shopkeeper scrutinized me carefully for another few seconds before asking, "how much do you have to work with?"
"Was hoping to stay below $10,000," I admitted.
He let out a long sigh and started turning around. "You might want to head over to the discount section," he suggested, indicating the general direction with a dismissive wave. Then he made his way back to the counter, more or less pretending I didn't exist.
Following his advice, I turned my attention to the far side of the store. I didn't even need directions; I could simply follow the gradient of disorganization. I passed shelves littered with random parts and faded posters advertising the top-end models from a couple of years back, until I found myself standing before a rack with some interesting units. A sign promised "amazing deals!", appealing to that ancient desire to find treasure in a garbage heap. Despite myself, I could feel the thrill of the bargain hunt, and I started examining each of the inanimate robots one by one.
I started from the left.
Memory
The year is 2086. Technology never stopped promising to fulfill all our dreams. Even as our landfills flow over with yesterday's hardware—shiny gadgets that failed to deliver us into the new tech-utopia—no one can resist the siren song of the latest revolutionary innovation. We're constantly bombarded by advertisements for the next big thing in consumer electronics, the newest generation of artificial intelligence, and, of course, the sexiest synthetic companions. You can be as jaded as you want, but deep down inside, we all want in on it.
***
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