One Night in Club SexBot by David Henson

The air inside the main barroom is thick with the smell of Jovian jelly. I look the place over real good. Dames, guys, and bots in every combination slip in and out of the pleasure cells. I see a few couples – probably there to spice up the home stew. But no sign of her.

A blond on the flash ramp snatches my attention. She’s hot enough to boil your drink at 50 paces. Her honey locks reach down between her boobs like a tongue lapping water in a lunar oasis. Her legs are long enough to wrap around your wildest fantasy. Twice. As I move toward her, she retracts her hair. Her breasts disappear, chest broadens, clothes transform. When I get to him, he’s tall, dark, and handsome as an old Hollywood movie.

He says his name is Randy…and Randi. He asks if I’m looking for some fun.

 “On the job,” I say. I tap my ring, and the holo of a tall, raven-haired beauty in a red dress appears. “A dangerous dame. Seen her here tonight?”

 The bot morphs back into a woman. “Is she human?” she says with a voice that makes you think of bare skin rubbing on Egyptian cotton. Thousand count.

 “From front to back and everywhere in between if you get my drift.”

 “Not really,” Randi says.

 All of a sudden an overweight guy with a beard cuts in front of me. “Hey, Randi. Told you I’d be back,” he says.

“Beat it, fella,” I tell him.

 “Who do you think you are, buddy?” Fat Beard says.

 I open my coat and let my badge do the talking.

 Fat Beard scrams. I have a really big badge.

 “Oh my,” Randi says. “I like your really big badge, but don’t be scaring the clientele.” She morphs back to Randy. “So what’d this doll do anyway?” he says.

 “Just somebody I need to find.”

 “Well, she hasn’t been in the slip tonight if you get my drift,” Randy says.

 “Not really.”

 Just then a funky lady cuts in front of me. “Hi, Randy,” she says.”Miss me? I’ve missed you. Randi too.”

 I open my coat.

 “Oh my,” Funky Lady says. “Would you like to join us in a cell?”

“Sorry, lady. On the job.”

 “Baby, go get yourself a Hot Venus,” Randy says. “Put it on my tab. I’ll be right with you.”

“Don’t keep me waiting,” Funky Lady says and slinks away.

 “We done here, officer?” Randy says, morphing.

“Detective,” I say, walking away. I melt into the crowd like a cheap Martian chocolate and watch the door. Before long Dangerous Dame enters looking hot as a sunspot. I’m all over her.

 “Hi, Honey,” she says to me. “Sorry I’m late. The levitation lanes on the way here were backed up. I let SitterBot know we’d be longer than planned.”

 I look her up and down. Like my eyes are hands. “I don’t know from what you’re talking about, Doll,” I say. “I’m Stone. Detective Stone.” I open my coat.

Her eyes widen. Wide as the elevator doors on the top floor of a building so tall you couldn’t fly that high if you wore the best levitation belt cold hard cash could buy.

“You know why I’m here, Doll.” I take out my cuffs and give them a jingle jangle.

She strikes a defiant pose. I brace for trouble. Then she shrugs and holds out her hands. When I let down my guard, she pulls a move and grabs the cuffs. Before I know it, she has jingle on my one wrist and jangle on the other.

As she leads me to a cell, Randall asks her if she needs any help and starts to morph.

 “I’m all over this,” Dangerous Dame says. “If you get my drift.”

 “Totally,” Randi answers.

David Henson

Banner Image – Angela at Studioanjou