Amsterdam, 2015 By Bill
He stepped off the mag-lev train at Amsterdam's Centraal Station, jostled by the crowd of Dutch commuters heading to their jobs in the center city. He, in contrast, had just arrived on an overnight flight from America. The sleep meds had worked exactly as advertised -- 5 hours of sound sleep on the plane, followed by a smooth boost of energy that kicked in just before he landed.
He took the micro-PC from his pocket and brought up the website of his destination. His thumb manipulated a few icons on the screen, and the gentle voice transmitted to his ear implant gave several suggestions for getting there on time... on foot, the tram, a taxi, bicycle rental, canal taxi-boat... with a few cogent details of each. He pressed a button to select the first option -- a leisurely stroll on this beautiful Spring day. It was 8:30 a.m. local time... a half hour until his appointment. He'd have plenty of time to get to the place. His only luggage was a small leather carry-on slung over his shoulder -- just enough for his 24-hour stay in the Netherlands -- as he set off through the bustling center of the historic city, with the calm natural-sounding voice inside his ear giving directions.
In 20 minutes, the man was strolling on a peaceful side street along the Herengracht canal. Centuries-old townhouses lined both sides of the placid waterway... once the homes of wealthy families with many servants; now mostly converted to apartments, boutique hotels, and small business offices.
When he got to the correct address, it was as discrete as he could have hoped for. The only indication of the business within was the small polished-brass plaque beside the door that said "RB, Ltd". Entering the door, he immediately stood before a receptionist at a small desk in the foyer.
"Goedemorgen!" said the middle-aged woman with a smile.
"Good morning," he replied, guessing at what her Dutch greeting had been.
She touched the computer screen on her desk. "Ah; you would be Mr. Watson?" She switched to English, with only a slight accent.
"Uh, yes," he said, blushing slightly. He had seriously thought of making the reservation under a pseudonym, but finally decided it was silly to worry. This was against the law in America, but he was in the Netherlands now, where it was perfectly legal. "I'm a bit early for my appointment. I hope that's not a problem."
"None whatsoever. You are our only client right now, so we are completely at your service. Shall we get the payment taken care of first?" she asked. "As you may know, the fee at is 1,500 euros for the first hour. You have reserved only one hour, but we are not at all busy this morning, so you may extend the session if you wish, at 750 euros for each additional hour."
Even though he already knew what the price would be, the muscles of his face still winced a bit at spending so much for something so self-indulgent. But the idea of the second hour definitely appealed to him. "Let's make it two hours," he said impulsively. "Do you accept implant?"
"Certainly," she said, and took a small scanner pad from her desk drawer.
He held hand a few inches above it, palm up, and in 3 seconds it gave a beep. He pressed the button to approve the displayed 2,250-euro charge, payable to "Real-Boy, Ltd." and keyed in his PIN.
"Thank you," she said, and put the pad away. Then she touched her computer screen a few times. "You did not pre-select one of our models, so I have asked Lukas to show you to a lounge and assist you in making your selection, Mr. Watson."
As she spoke, a handsome young teenager entered from an interior door. The sexy blond boy looked instantly-familiar to the man, but he couldn't remember from where. Then he realized it... the boy was identical to the model in a series of photographs, taken in the 1970s... 40 years ago. He even wore the same clothing as in some of the pictures the man had viewed on-line -- snug shorts made of black leather, and a red tee-shirt. It was as if the boy standing before him had stepped out of an old familiar photo.
"Welcome to Real-Boy, Mr. Watson. You will follow me, please?" he said in accented English. The expression on his face was cheerful, but showed a healthy dose of sensuous flirtation.
"Excuse me, uh, Lukas," the man asked as they walked down the hall, "but are you a...." His sentence trailed off uncompleted.
"Android?" he said, filling in the proper term. "Yes, I am." The mischievous gleam in his eye and his warm, sexy smile made the man's chest tighten. Lukas winked as he opened a door.
"Here we are. Please to make yourself comfortable."
The room could easily have been the small living room of an apartment... comfortable furniture, soft lighting, a 2-meter-wide monitor on the wall. Lucas handed the man a video tablet that displayed thumbnail pictures of boys on its screen. One of them was Lukas.
"All of the boys displayed on the screen are available now for your 2-hour session. You can run a short video of any of them by touching the picture. Double-touch, and the video will display on the wall monitor. The language option has been pre-set for you as English, but you may change it by pressing one of the options along the left side of the screen." The man quickly scanned the selection... 'Afrikaans', 'Deutsch', 'English', 'Espanol', 'Francais', 'Native Language', etc. Some were in non-Latin alphabets or characters, among which he identified Arabic, Chinese, Russian, Hindi, Japanese, Korean, and Thai.
"And the boys are all... androids?" asked the man.
"Yes; all of them are the authentic Fujitsu sexual androids," replied the boy. The product was a technological breakthrough, leaping far ahead of all the other sex robots that had been developed since that first rather primitive ones were introduced back in 2008. The man had been reading bloggers' write-ups of their experiences with Fujitsu sexual androids for almost a year, but it had taken this long to talk himself into trying it. Women bloggers were particularly effusive when they wrote about their multi-orgasmic sessions with incredibly realistic robots that looked and performed like the most virile and potent young men, with sophisticated artificial intelligence that enabled them to interact in a way that was most sexually-satisfying for their human partner. But the web-posts that truly drew the man's attention related to the robots that where authentic facsimiles of boys and girls, made for people who craved the taboo sexuality of inter-generational sex, but had no intention of involving an actual child.
The man gazed at the pictures on the tablet's screen, feeling the excitement starting to churn within him. Each small picture was labeled with a name, nationality, and age. (Lukas's picture specified that he was 14 and German.) They encompassed an assortment of ethnicities, and ranged in age from a delicate Japanese boy of 6 named Taiji to a sturdy 16-year-old Jamaican named Winston. The man touched the picture of 'Samnang', a 9-year-old Cambodian. The tablet filled with a video of the slender smiling boy, wearing only snug white briefs. Traditional Asian instrumental music flowed gently from tiny speakers built into the display. Samnang was moving in a graceful stationary dance, his hands wandering over his deeply-tanned body, his body swaying. The man touched the screen again, with two quick taps, and the same video began playing in nearly life size on the wall screen, with the music now coming from hidden high-fidelity speakers. He looked so real... so sexy!
Then the boy spoke. "If you give honor of allowing me to serve you," said the exotic-looking android in an accented, boyishly-high voice, "I provide you with most sublime...." The man touched the screen over the words 'Native Language', and the image hesitated for a split-second as the boy's voice was now speaking an Asian language totally unknown to the man, his lips completely in sych with the words.
Then he touched 'English'. "... like I pull down underpants?" asked the boy, as his the words became comprehensible again.
The video moved in on his face, projecting it larger than life, emphasizing his sensual mouth and seductive expression. The close-up then moved down his slender, dark-tan torso. Just as the image stopped on cloth-covered crotch, his thumbs hooked the waistband of his white briefs and slowly eased them down. The lad's 2-inch penis and his small loose scrotum were utterly lifelike. And with just a single stroke of his fingertip along the shaft of his penis, the organ began to stiffen, impelled by wondrously complex internal mechanics. In seconds, the slender boy-cock stood up about 3 inches, twitched slightly, its foreskin snuggling at the base of his acorn-shaped glans.
Then the boy's voice murmured softly, "You like fuck me, mister?" He turned around, leaned forward, and parted his butt cheeks with his hands, displaying a perfect little anus, ripe for fucking, flexing open slightly in erotic invitation.
"Wow!" the man mumbled to himself.
"All of our androids come in a default personality type," said Lukas. "For example, Samnang's default setting is shy and submissive, but he will become more self-assured and assertive if he analyzes that such is your wish. Our android-boys are completely adaptable to your desires and responsive to your mood. Our goal is to provide the most totally satisfying sexual encounter you have ever experienced."
The man sighed, and a slight shiver ran through his body. He looked down again at the various pictures on the tablet and was drawn to a boy with dark eyes and black wavy hair, wearing the traditional ankle-length cotton robe of North Africa and seated on a floor-cushion beside a large hookah (water-pipe). The description below his picture read: Hassan, 13, Morocco. The man double-tapped the picture, and the video clip began playing on the wall video. North African music played as the swarthy, handsome youngster looked off to the side to show his profile and then straight into the camera. His facial expression was totally natural; totally seductive. Then he took a puff on the stem of the hookah, held it for a few moments, and exhaled a perfect smoke-ring into the air. Standing up, he gracefully removed the garment, revealing himself completely naked beneath. His body was uniformly tanned, slender and sturdy, with the beginnings of a gorgeous adolescent musculature. The camera scanned down his body, showing off his rich, flawless butternut skin, and stopped for a close-up on his penis. Its barely-pubescent beauty was breathtaking -- a graceful 3-inch circumcised dick with an exquisite, slightly-flared glans. A few dozen sparse pubic hairs adorned the base. It hung almost straight down, framed by the soft brown scrotum behind it. The boy's hand slid down across his belly, rubbed against the soft penis, then slid back up out of the picture being displayed on the large screen. Within seconds the organ throbbed to stiffness, 4.5 inches long and irresistible. The man's mouth was watering as he imagined taking the 13-year-old's cock into his mouth.
"He is beautiful, do you think?" murmured Lukas, as Hassan thrust his hips forward and showed off his erection from several angles.
"Yes... absolutely," replied the man wistfully. He looked over at the android boy beside him. "I suppose I don't need to play your video, do I? Would you... uh... show me your cock?" the man enquired, blushing slightly.
"Certainly, but only for brief demonstration purposes. If you wish to select me as your companion this morning, we can go up to a room."
As he was talking, Lukas was unzipping the tight leather pants, lowering them down his thighs. The bulge in the light-blue briefs he wore underneath suggested a soft cock of pleasantly-large proportions.
The man held his breath as Lukas slowly, teasingly, pulled the front of his underpants down, finally displaying a penis that was a model of pubescent virility, though unadorned by pubic hair. It was 4 inches in length, with a generous girth and a long, loose foreskin.
"Make if erect," said the man, with a note of arousal in his voice.
"Certainly!" And without being touched, the penis rose in an arc, pulsing to stiffness, just like a horny 14-year-old's would if he had started watching a hard-core porn video in the middle of a wildly erotic scene. It was just under 6 inches, and it was as beautiful a cock as the man had ever seen in years of browsing pictures and vids on the Internet.
"I can alter its size if you wish," said Lukas. "Do you prefer smaller or larger?"
The man was momentarily tongue-tied. "Uh... smaller, I guess." In seconds, and without any sound or unnatural motion to suggest a mechanism, the erection smoothly shrank in length and girth to a bit less than 5 inches... still exquisite... if not more so!
"And now larger," said the man, breathlessly.
The boner grew to 7 inches of beautiful young-teenage meat. The man reached out to touch it, and he was amazed at the warmth and subtle throbbing. The smooth skin and the firmness of the erection were indistinguishable from the real thing. He leaned close, inhaling the mild adolescent musk of Lukas's crotch. The scent was utterly authentic, causing his mind to flash back to his boyhood sexual adventures with his friends. Then he took the cock-head into his mouth; his body shuddered with pleasure. How could synthetic material feel and taste and react like this?
"Would you like to taste my pre-cum?" asked Lukas.
"Mmm-mmm!" said the man in agreement, as he continued to suck. Immediately, he tasted nectar seeping from the cock's piss-slit. His tongue lapped at it greedily.
And then Lukas backed away gently, his cock pulling out of the man's mouth with an audible 'pop'. The robot fastened his trousers again. "I should mention, Mr. Watson, that there are several more options on the next page... specialty models, you might say. They have been designed for customers who wish to give or receive physical discipline. Touch the arrow at the bottom right corner of the screen if you wish to view them."
The company's website hadn't mentioned this. But his curiosity made it a certainty that he would look. He tapped the arrow with his finger, and four new pictures appeared... two clearly designed as dominant figures; two as submissive. He double- touched the picture of a meek-looking boy named Nigel, identified as British and 12 years old.
"Please, sir!" said the boy on the large monitor, with a tone of distress in his voice as he shifted his weigh nervously from one leg to the other and held his hands behind his back. "I know I've been naughty, and need to be punished. But I'm frightened." He wore the uniform of a young English schoolboy - grey flannel shorts, knee-socks, a maroon blazer over shirt and tie, and a small maroon cap. He turned his back and lowered his trousers and underpants, lifted his shirt, and bent over. "I'm ready for my whipping, sir."
"You should know, Mr. Watson," said Lukas, "that the construction of this model, and of the other submissive unit, is a bit different than the standard androids. The skin is of another material and considerably thicker, in order not to be damaged by rough treatment. It will redden and welt and bruise very authentically, but it will not have a natural softness to the touch. On the other hand, the boy will be just as talented in pleasuring you sexually as our standard models. The insides of his mouth and rectum are of the same material and construction."
The man looked at the tablet again and double-tapped on the picture labeled 'Tupac, 15, United States'. The light-skinned African-American was dressed in a sleeveless tee-shirt and loose low-hanging jeans. Tattoos adorned his arms, and his face was set in a fierce scowl.
"You ain't goin' nowhere, boy," he said with a haughty sneer. "I own your pathetic ass now, and I know just what faggot pussies like you need. I'll spank the livin' hell out of your sorry butt, and then push you down on your knees and make you suck my cock." He had been undoing his jeans, and at that moment whipped out 9 inches of hard, dark, thick, uncut cock. "And after I pump a load of my juice down your throat, I'll fuck your punk ass like it ain't never been fucked before. And if you don't whine too much, I may let you jack yourself off while I'm giving you shit about what a pathetic wimp you are."
"Jesus!" said the man. He looked over at Lukas, who had a bemused look on his face.
"While you are deciding on your selection," said the German boy; "allow me to perhaps interest you in a sexual enhancement drug. We have a full range available, including some local formulations that are not available in America. Our newest one is named 'Dutch Treat' and combines the best qualities of Sustainin and Multigasm -- a strong erection and the ability to have numerous orgasms -- along with a mild euphoriant similar to cannabis. It comes in several different timed-release dosages, one of which lasts 2 hours and would be perfect you this morning. Based on my experience with customers who have used it, you may expect to have as many as a dozen orgasms over the course of your session. The effects wear off right on schedule too."
"Yes; that would be great!" said the man. He continued to scan through the remaining video clips of android-boys, each one as desirable as any boy that had ever inhabited his fantasies. As he watched a clip of 8-year-old Klaas, he was torn whether to choose a little boy, or go with his first inclination for a boy just entering puberty, like Hassan and Lukas. And then he thought about the special "discipline" robots -- doing anything he wanted with the timid Nigel... or being humiliated and sexually dominated by Tupac. Each of the choices aroused him enormously.
Finally, he put aside the video tablet. "It's a tough choice," he said to Lukas; "but I've decided to go with...."
To be continued.
Write to me (with your ideas!) at bil47_new@yahoo.com