MANNEQUIN

Jack Sprat

New technology has changed wire manipulated stage and movie mannequins into sophisticated computer controlled robots.

Lifelike skin, inner synthetic padding, and automation builds a robot to closely resemble and behave like a human being.

My friend, Reginald Crowell, builds robots. Robot design is just right for his genius and eccentricities.

While he hides it well, Regi is gay, fearing his ruin if his sexual preferences were known. Since I'm gay too, Regi and I are close friends. When I'm in town, we sleep together and arrange our time to be together for long weekends and vacations.

My last visit was interrupted when Regi was called away for a film set robot repair. He would be gone two days.

Taking me into his confidence, he said he had built a male teen robot, using it for his bed partner. If I wanted, I could use him while he was away.

I believe Regi felt a bit guilty and a little embarrassed he used a dummy. I would not receive the key to the other bedroom that kept his robot until his departure. My curiosity and excitement mounted.

Regi said no more until he stood at the airlines boarding ramp. The boy will be waiting in bed. I have programmed him especially for you! He must rest during the day. Here's the key. Do not enter until after 9 PM"

Finishing, he walked up the ramp disappearing into the plane.

I had crazy thoughts as I waited until nine PM. Should I knock when entering? What should I say? How should I act?

When the clock struck nine. I unlocked the door, turning the knob slowly, cautiously peering beyond as I pushed the door open.

The room was softly lit. A large canopied four-poster bed was in its middle. A sleeping nude boy lay uncovered atop dark blue satin sheets, resting his head on a thick down pillow.

The lad was mid teen. A patch of trimmed blond hair showed above his limp, cut, penis resting on his ball sac. His bare legs showed strength and grace. Beginning stomach ripples crossed his abdomen.

His head rested on golden hair that pressed against the pillow. His expression was peace, happiness and serene tranquillity.

I removed my clothes and climbed next to him, snuggling, feeling his radiating human warmness.

His chest rose and fell. Warm air quietly escaped his nostrils.

I became panicky. What was this thing? It wasn't alive, or was it? Could I trust it? What if it malfunctioned? I had used blown up dolls before with lots of fantasy, but this was close to outer limits and the twilight zone. I didn't know if I should pursue or rapidly depart.?

In a quiet voice the robot said, "Welcome to my bed. My name is Brad.You are my virgin. Iill be gentle! Relax!"

His lids fluttered open His lips parted and his sparkling blue eyes met mine. I'd never been swept up with such strong passion.

I wrapped my arms about him, lifted him, and pulled his lips to mine. My tongue was sucked deep into his throat. I'd never been kissed in such a sensuous manner.

I reached to his penis. It was teen boy size, extra warm, and hard as a piece of steel. His ball sac was as soft as a stuffed animal, but the inner contents were heavy and well designed. I slid to a sixty nine. Brad slipped me through his lips.

A hundred ultra soft car wash brushes swirled and washed over my maleness. His inserted finger pressed a special spot. It was not my prostate. I just kept coming. Had he discovered a male G-Spot?

Now it was my turn.

I felt servantile joy as I licked and sucked on Brad's cock. Sucking his balls felt way different than a humans.

I worked a finger in him. He seemed human. I started a second finger.

Warm splashes slammed the back of my mouth. His sperm was sweet., I swallowed, enjoying its taste.

We both rested. I had questions.

"Brad! You are a robot?'

"Yes! I am a robot!"

"But how can you come?"

"Your rubbing my penis activates a chip that loads a reservoir of fluid. It passes through ducted stimuli sending a message to my master chip, making my whole body feel its passing sensation. My come is a chemical mixture to be swallowed. It rapidly re-stimulates you. You can come more often.

I changed the subject.

"You have to rest all day?"

"Yes! My whole system deactivates. In the early evening , if programmed, I restart, preparing for a night of love. It's best you don't enter as I rest."

There was quiet. We kissed again, hugged, snuggled, and resumed our lovemaking.

Brad rose to all fours, dropping his head, pulling his legs tightly to his chest. The creator, no doubt Regi, had competed with God designing Brad's gorgeous butt. I throbbed harder as I rubbed and kneaded each beautiful cheek, then watching my penis as it made contact and pushed until my balls touched his buns. I shuddered as I blasted my jism. I came again, and again, and again, close to blacking out each time. I never softened.

I had to stop, feeling the pain and frustration of priapasm. Brad settled back prone when I climbed off.

"Do you want a fuck?" he asked. What I'd been through, I'd forgotten all about getting fucked.

"I am not programmed except for you to sit."

The pores in his hard prick started to ooze lubricant, his penis now extra slippery.

He opened his legs and I climbed on, my buns moving down until they rested on his crotch. A sliding feeling continued and my asshole was stretching wider. I was helplessly impaled. "Brad! What are you doing?".

"As a finale, I have been programmed to give your butt a priority fuck. My prick has lengthened and is swelling to open your asshole to absolute max. You will be kept fully lubricated. You will not tear but remain impaled until I finish."

Brads hands grasped my torso, lifting me. His crotch sprang against my elevated cheeks, driving his longer swollen member at piston speed, then squeezing my butt tightly into his crotch, filling me with his large, warm ejaculation. This happened five times.

Nerves were activated. My asshole screamed for more. I know now how a nymphomaniac must feel. I didn't want to stop. Brad finally lifted me off and I cried in need and frustration while he rubbed my bottom, attempting to slowly cooling me down. Then I slept.

I was softly shaken awake by Brad the next morning. telling me I had overslept and I must leave immediately..

I was in a daze most of the day. Nothing added up. Brad had to be a live boy. He could not be a robot. He had tenderness and feelings and a beautiful young body. I bet Regi hired a boy to play the part.

In early afternoon, I could stand it no longer. I entered the bedroom, Brad was between the sheets, his head mostly hidden by a covering pillow. "Brad!" I softly called.

I removed the pillow exposing a blank molded plastic face then pulled back the sheet to see a cold, white plastic, mannequin body.

"NO!" I screamed!