Chromium Cindy was originally published in Infernal Ink
The salesman tapped his teeth with his pen, faking concentration. Exhaling with a little too much drama, he rose from his chair.
‘Let me see if there’s anything, anything at all, I can offer you; I might have something in stock to suit your needs.’
He strode to the glass door, threw it open and left the showroom. Robert could still see him in the reflections from the many glass surfaces. He wasn’t doing anything. He showed no intention of checking a stock list, talking to another member of staff or even making a pretence of going to the stockroom. Instead he leaned against the wall in the corridor and lit a cigarette.
Robert watched him smoke; every pull the salesman took on the cigarette increased the act of mockery. The man was taking the piss, exhibiting the poorest level of customer service, but if Robert called him out on his behaviour any chance of making the purchase would vanish. The scarcity of products coupled with high demand meant the salesman held all the cards and had Robert where he wanted him.
After stubbing out his cigarette, the salesman returned. He smiled, a pitying smile, and shrugged.
‘Sorry, but I’ve got nothing I can offer you right now. They’re so popular at the moment; what with currency fluctuations, the basic price of ten thousand is a steal. I’m afraid it’s a 12 month wait at minimum, and there’s the chance of price rises if they release new models in the meantime.’
‘Okay; what about if I upgrade to the premium model?’ Robert asked.
‘Are we talking the Platinum range or the Platinum Elite?’
‘Platinum,’ Robert said, trying not to sound desperate. ‘What’s the price difference for a Platinum range model?’
The salesman sucked his teeth, opened a desk drawer and pulled out a calculator. Tapping at the keys in a random manner, he muttered a few numbers as his digits danced. Then his fingers hesitated, hanging motionless in the air while he fixed Robert with a condescending stare, before he resumed tapping. When he stopped, he sighed.
‘We’re talking twenty thousand, base price.’
‘Shit,’ Robert said. ‘I was hoping to pay—’
‘You’ll be lucky to get one within ten months,’ the salesman added, talking across Robert. ‘Of course, if you go with the Platinum Elite range, the price includes all the optional extras, there are no customisation costs, you get up to five reprogrammings during the first 24 months, and there’s access to the exclusive owners’ club.’
‘I daren’t ask, but how much is one from the Premium Elite range?’
The salesman didn’t touch the calculator, nor did he check a price list.
‘Fifty thousand, plus ten thousand a year recurring service costs. You could have one tomorrow, subject to credit checks.’
‘I can’t … it’s too much. Sorry, but I don’t think I’m going to … let me think about it. Thanks anyway, for your time and help.’
Frustrated at not being able to make the purchase, angry at the salesman’s attitude and embarrassed at it being made obvious he couldn’t afford a sex robot, Robert rose to leave.
‘Listen,’ the salesman said, his tone changing to one more conspiratorial, ‘I hate to see a potential customer walk away. How much could you go to, top whack?’
Robert panicked. If he went too low the salesman would laugh him out of the showroom; if he went too high, he might end up spending more than he could afford. He had to push his finances to the limit without going overboard.
‘Fifteen thousand, in total.’
The salesman gestured for Robert to sit. Picking up his pen, he scribbled something onto a pad. Tearing out the page and folding it in two, he held it between his thumb and forefinger but didn’t hand it over.
‘I’m not supposed to do this,’ he whispered, ‘and I could lose my job for helping you, but I hate to see someone miss out on a golden opportunity. A friend of mine works in the R&D department; he’s the AI expert, you know, the technology that makes the robots learn about your needs and desires. Anyway, they build prototypes all the time, testing new technologies, trialling different features. The finish isn’t the same as the retail models. They use a lot of chrome, a lot of latex, but for some people it makes it more interesting. It’s a touch kinky if you ask me.’
He winked, a salacious gesture meant to underline their conspiracy. Robert was wary of the salesman’s new-found helpfulness, but also intrigued by the thought of a prototype sex robot.
‘They’re supposed to strip down the prototypes for scrap, but no one notices if a few fall through the cracks. Engineers’ perks. If — and it’s a big if — I could hook you up with one, would it be of interest to you?’
‘Could I get more information?’
‘Maybe this isn’t right for you,’ the salesman said, closing his fist on the paper. ‘Thinking about it, you’re probably best suited to the standard retail models; a prototype might be too much for you. Forget I even mentioned it.’
‘No,’ Robert said, eager not to miss the opportunity. ‘It sounds right up my street. Please; I’m interested.’
Handing over the paper, the sales man said, ‘Go to this address, ask for Joey and tell him Frank sent you. Enjoy yourself; it’ll be one hell of a ride.’
The address was a derelict works unit, not the R&D centre Robert expected, and Joey had the air of a scrap metal dealer rather than an IT engineer. As they went inside, a protective instinct kicked in. Robert’s hand slipped into his jacket pocket and curled around the envelope of cash. Was this a con trick, a scam to get him alone and rob him? He shouldn’t have come; if something sounds too good to be true…
Joey led him to a large wooden crate and removed the lid.
‘This is Chromium Cindy. Well; what do you think?’
Cindy was elegant, lithe and sensual in form. Every curve was perfect, every inch of her chrome skin gleamed, flawless and radiant. Her eyes were like pearls with emerald green irises, set in black latex sockets. Full lips, again matt black latex, parted to reveal chrome teeth and a slender chrome tongue. Her nipples and vagina were also latex, as were her joints.
‘Too right she is,’ Joey said with pride. ‘Chromium Cindy is the best one I’ve ever made. She’s a real one-off. I’d keep her myself but needs must.’
‘Is she fully programmed?’ Robert asked.
‘Oh yeah; she’s programmed and then some,’ Joey replied. ‘Do we have a deal?’
Joey helped Robert carry the crate to his car. With the rear seats lowered, it was tight but fitted. Robert handed over the envelope; Joey didn’t open it to count the money.
On the journey home, Robert could not stop thinking about Chromium Cindy. Before collecting the sex robot, he’d planned how to dress her for their first sex session, but now, having seen her in real life, those ideas went out the window. Why would he cover up her body? Lingerie added a little spice, but Chromium Cindy needed no frills or lace. She was perfect.
Arriving home, he backed his car into the garage. That way he could unload the crate in peace. It would be a struggle for him, being alone, but if he did it on the street no doubt a neighbour would offer to help so they’d be able to nose around and see what he’d bought.
Excited by the fact Cindy was in his house, he couldn’t wait any longer. Nipping into the bathroom, he dropped his trousers and masturbated, thinking about what was to come. It only took four or five jerks before he ejaculated, doubling up as the sensation exploded in his groin. As wave after wave of tingling pulsed through his body, he laughed aloud. This was like a schoolboy experience. It was, even considering a misspent youth and several long-term steamy relationships, unbelievable. If the mere thought of Chromium Cindy did this to him, how good would it be once she was up and running?
The evening passed in a blur. After struggling to lift the crate out of the car, the simplest option was to break the packaging down and carry Cindy out. With her seated on the living room sofa, Robert hit the first snag. How did she power up?
With no experience of sex robots, he’d assumed there would be a power switch. Checking her chromium skin, he couldn’t find one. He checked the soles of her feet and between her toes, her armpits and the back of her head but found nothing. Resorting to the internet, he read a few manuals for other models. Most robots either had a switch or a remote control. Cindy’s switch was well concealed.
By 1am Robert was tired, frustrated and regretting his decision to purchase via an unofficial channel. Heading to bed, he hoped tomorrow would be a better day. Unable to sleep, by 2am he’d convinced himself Cindy would have a touch-operated switch. He went back downstairs and ran his hands over every inch of her body, but nothing happened. Logic dictated it wouldn’t be inside her mouth, vagina or anus. That might lead to her shutting down at the moment of ecstasy. As stupid as the idea was, he checked anyway.
He tossed and turned in bed, his mind racing. For the next hour he tried to think like a software developer, but drew a blank. He tried to think like an engineer and got nowhere. As dawn approached he tried to think like a pervert. Then he tried to reason why he’d assumed someone who bought a sex robot, someone like him, was a pervert. At 6.30am he fell asleep and at 6.45am his alarm woke him.
Having had little sleep, and with the stress of Chromium Cindy’s inactivity haunting him, work wasn’t an option. Robert showered, dressed and made coffee. As he downed the much needed caffeine hit, he fired off an email to his department head. He had a bug; he hoped it wouldn’t last long. He’d be working from home but wouldn’t pick up calls.
Robert spent the rest of the morning repeating the various attempts from the night before. Maybe in his excitement and state of fatigue he’d missed something obvious. Cindy had no physical switch, nor did she have any areas responsive to touch, either on her or in proximity to her surface.
Robert halted himself. When did her skin become her surface? Yesterday Chromium Cindy was a ‘she’, an exciting and sensual female from another dimension; today Cindy was an ‘it’, a machine failing to function, no different to a can opener that didn’t open cans.
There was no other option; he would have to go back to the showroom, find the salesman, and ask — no, demand — documentation. If there was none, he wanted a refund. It would be an awkward, maybe even hostile encounter. The salesman would deny all knowledge of the underhand deal. Robert would challenge him. It might even get physical.
What had he bought? It didn’t look human. No one would buy a sex robot made of metal and latex. It was a developer’s folly, if Joey even was a developer.
The thought stuck in his mind. It was a developer’s folly, an engineer’s fantasy. Would a developer have a basic switch? No; they’d go for something more impressive, more advanced.
Robert shook Cindy’s hand. He kissed her on the cheek, on both cheeks. He patted her on the backside, pinched it, slapped it. He hugged her, brushed his hand on her breast, stroked her vagina, blew in her ear and nibbled at her neck. Nothing.
Wanting to avoid a confrontation at the showroom, he drove back to the address where he picked Cindy up. The door was open so Robert went inside. A fat man, his face shining with the sheen of perspiration, paced around. Spotting Robert he rushed over.
‘Are you the oven guy?’
‘The oven guy,’ the man said, his curtness boarding on the rude. ‘The guy about the ovens?’
‘No; I’m looking for Joey.’
‘The software developer.’
The fat man fixed Robert with a scowl. ‘Why do I need a software developer? I’m running a bakery, or I would be if the oven guy showed up. There’s no Joey here.’
The conversation was awkward but Robert carried on. ‘He was here yesterday.’
‘I took on the lease last month and no one’s been here, not even the oven guy. Now, if you don’t mind, this is private property and you’re getting in my way.’
Back at home, Robert sat looking at Chromium Cindy. Fifteen thousand, a lot more than he could afford, and for what? A statue: a shiny chrome and latex statue. The money would have paid for a long holiday or a lot of sex with prostitutes. In fact, he could have taken a prostitute on holiday. Was there even any point in trying to get his money back? He’d been had, conned like the over-eager arsehole he was.
With his head in his hands, he sobbed, bitterness and self-pity welling up and overflowing. In anguish he wailed, ‘Please Cindy; wake up.’
Chromium Cindy looked at him and smiled.
‘Hi, I’m Cindy. Who are you?’
Voice commands. Why didn’t he think of it earlier? She was looking at him with a quizzical expression, waiting for his answer.
‘Hi Cindy, I’m Robert … umm … Bob, yes, Bob.’
‘Well Robert Ummbobyesbob, can you guess what I’d like to do with you.’
‘Cindy, my name’s not … forget it; we can sort it out later.’
Standing, he took hold of her hand and led her into the bedroom.
Struggling to undress, his trousers falling around his ankles as he shook his arms free of his shirt, his heart was pounding. She walked over and picked him up as if he weighed nothing, tossing him onto the bed. Taking hold of his trouser legs, Cindy shook him free of the garment. The sound of tearing cloth heightened the intensity of the experience. As he tried to pull the shirt sleeve off his arm, she climbed onto the bed and straddled him.
Her chrome fingers touched him, their softness a surprise, as was her strength when she took hold of his boxers and, with one motion, ripped them apart. Savage and sensual, she was driving him to the edge. Robert tensed, trying to delay the inevitable. Cindy’s face hovered close to his as she muttered, ‘Don’t cum; don’t you dare cum yet.’
Her latex lips glanced against his. Full, pouting and seductive, their touch was exhilarating, better than a real woman’s lips. Her chrome tongue slid into his mouth. It was nothing like he expected. Instead of being cold and hard it was flexible and agile, its fragile flickering caress sending pulses through his body like tiny electric shocks.
‘Oh God, please —’ he whimpered, unsure if his plea was a prayer to curtail his orgasm, an attempt to get Cindy to slow down or one to encourage her in her actions. The potency of the situation was overwhelming, a petrified moment of extreme passion. Her hand stroked his balls and he moaned in pleasure. He was drowning in the distilled essence of sexual excitement.
Taking hold of his throbbing penis, she rubbed his glans against her latex vagina. He felt a twitching sensation travel through his groin and down his legs, his feet curling as he tensed for the inevitable. As if aware of his heightened state of arousal, Chromium Cindy’s sex allowed him to enter, a degree of suction ensuring he slid in and was deep inside her.
On the edge of explosion, with no ability to restrain himself or delay the climax, Robert pleaded, ‘Kiss me.’
Chromium Cindy’s tongue was back in his mouth, rotating, revolving at a slow speed. Her vagina tightened, gripping ever harder on his penis. Pleasure turned to pain as the latex labia retracted and sharp steel jaws bit. Struggling to push Cindy off was pointless; her superior strength pinned him to the bed, her vagina tightening, slicing into the flesh of his penis. With her final clamping motion, extreme pain wracked his entire body. A warm and viscous liquid splattered across his thighs.
His whole body tensed and twitched as blood spurted from his groin. Cindy’s fingertips were digging in, gripping his skin which gave way under the pressure, her chromium digits like knives burying themselves in the flesh of his shoulders.
In his mouth, her tongue turned faster, its shape changing. The tip became a point and her tongue grew rounder as it span, until it was a broad metal spike revolving at high speed. Its smooth edges changed, transforming into ridges. As the tongue span faster, the ridges became more defined, sharper and spiralised, a thread biting into his neck, screwing into his thorax and driving into his heart. Like an Archimedes screw, it carried his blood upwards and into the mouth of Chromium Cindy.
Robert’s head filled with a sharp white light, pulsing, so bright that nothing else mattered at all…
If you have enjoyed this story and want to read more tales involving sex robots, then take a look at Whores Versus Sex Robots (and Other Sordid Tales of Erotic Automatons).