In the future, robotics and advanced A.I. become a ubiquitous part of society, aiding mankind in all facets of everyday life. However, they still retained the cold impersonal look of a machine until a new development rocketed over the uncanny valley. Grown rather than built, this new kind of being was made possible by hacking the human genome and combining biology with nanomachines: cyborgs down to the cellular level, but outwardly perfectly human in appearance. Too perfect, in fact. Over concerns of the new artificial people posing as real humans, world governments quickly acted to require that they all be made to possess a clearly visible non-human trait, which was accomplished in a variety of ways by drawing upon both fanciful fiction and animal DNA. Now, they live and work among us, programmed to serve. You can even have sex with them. These are some of their stories. These are the
Cyborganic Bioroid Chronicles
The one constant in nearly everybody's life during their student years is a stint working in fast food. I'm no exception. You'd think in this day and age all those kids would have been obsoleted by bioroids, but it turns out restaurants staffed entirely by bioroids are rarer than you'd think. The burger place I work at, it's part of an old national chain, you've heard of it, only has one. I asked my boss, Mr. Walters, about it once. He told me, "Shit, kid, do you have any idea how expensive those things are? She's cost-effective because paying overtime to cover the overnight shift is a bitch. Beyond that I'd much rather dish out minimum wage."
So our bioroid co-worker, Alison is her name, has the appearance of also being student age, slim, large but not oversized tits, wavy blonde hair to just past her shoulders, and gray eyes with flecks of blue. Her bioroid "trait" is ear antennae. She has human ears, but the center part is covered by little white pod things with some colored lights on them. The pods extend forward a little bit out of her ears and connect to thin strips of the same white material that run from just above her chin, up the sides of her jaw and past the front of her ears, then straight up through her hair a little bit and pointing up on either side of her head, extending about an inch or so past what would be level with the top of her head. I asked Mr. Walters about that, too. He said, "People come in here for food, they don't want to be staring at goofy ears or a funny forehead. She's a robot girl, she should look like one."
Oh, and there's one more thing, she is the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. Most guys, when they stroke their cock in bed at night, or in the shower, or sitting on the toilet, they think about a girl from school, or maybe a hot young teacher, or some celebrity actress or singer. For me, ever since I started working here, it's always been Alison. I can't get her out of my mind. If she were a human girl, I'd probably be telling you about how I finally worked up the courage to ask her out on a date. Well, no such luck. She never even leaves the restaurant. She works 24 hours a day, seven days a week, no holidays, no vacations. She recharges during those dead hours in the middle of the night, but even then she's always ready to serve a customer should one appear. I would spend my shifts sneaking longing glances at her, and get tongue-tied while talking to her, all the usual stupidity when a guy crushes hard on a girl, all for nothing. Not a damn thing could ever happen between us, or so I thought.
My shift today started like any other day. I arrived in the early afternoon, after the lunch rush had died down. I put my uniform stuff on, and set out into the part-time grind. As soon as I saw her, I said, "Hi, Alison," with that same hopeful, puppy love tone I always did. Dumb, I know. Just a victim of my hormones overriding rational thought.
Programmed for politeness of course, Alison returned the greeting with a smile as she always does, "Hi, Steve." This time though, her smile seemed to linger just a little longer than usual, and her eyes met mine. She wasn't just glancing at me in passing, she was looking at me, really looking. Then the moment passed, and she moved on to finish collecting the food she needed to fill an order. I convinced myself that I had imagined it. I'd certainly daydreamed about that and more countless times.
Pretty soon I realized I hadn't imagined it after all. I found myself staring at her, like always. Undressing her with my eyes, imagining the curves of her body, the shape of her perfect breasts, and she looked back at me and smiled. Shit. Instinct made me look away, pretend I hadn't been ogling her. That must be what you do when a girl catches you staring. She'd never caught me before, or at least she'd never let on. Then it happened again. Seriously, I just can't help myself. I looked away again. There was something about her smile, it wasn't just the cheerful server or friendly co-worker smile. It looked almost ... sly. No, that's stupid. Surely this time I really was imagining things.
The next time she caught me staring, it was the sly smile and a wink. A wink! My heart started beating faster as the adrenaline released into my system. Fucking hell. Something strange was going on and it was making me nervous, scared even. I know that guys are supposed to be intimidated by the fairer sex sometimes, so this was ... normal? Normal for me, maybe, but for Alison, not at all.
I was almost afraid to look at her again, but then again the morbid curiosity was starting to form as well. In the end I just forgot either way and ogled her out of sheer habit. Her response this time was to lean her hips away from me while sliding her near leg towards me a little. Was she striking a sexy pose for me? It was subtle, and over quickly to keep anybody else from noticing. This, finally, moved me past nervous and started to enter horny territory. My cock began to stir in my pants. A couple sexy leg poses later and my hard-on was firmly established, no pun intended, although that is a good one, isn't it. Next she thrust her chest forward for me, and then the next one she pushed her ass back, with one hand moving tantalizingly up her leg.
By now the dinner rush was upon us, the number of employees on shift increasing steadily as the afternoon had progressed and now reaching its peak. Even Mr. Walters gets on food duty at this point. Things get just as crowded behind the counter and in the kitchen as they are waiting in line to order and collect your meal. We bump into each other back there now and then, of course. No big deal, obviously. Alison, however, took this as an opportunity to escalate things another notch. I felt her breasts pressing into my shoulder as she reached past me to grab some fries. Still slightly in denial about what was going on, I figured these things happen and I just got lucky standing in the way at the right time. They felt amazing, by the way, soft and pliable, compressing against my body. My cock felt like it was ready to burst out of my pants right there.
.... There is more of this story ...