AI Chronicles 03A: Dawn...Organoids

AI Chronicles 03A: Dawn of the Organoids

WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! This story contains elements of science fiction. If you find that too distracting to continue, please move on to the next story.

I know it has been some time since my last story. Those who follow me know that the last several months have been quite challenging for several reasons. Many thanks to those who have taken the time to reach out. I appreciate you all more than you know.

Artificial Intelligence, or AI, as it is commonly called, seems to be everywhere. And it's not just used in creating images, videos, and blog posts. I recently saw several articles about people who have gone so far as to establish relationships with AI characters out of loneliness. Several online videos discuss the phenomenon of AI romances.

So, I decided to use that as a prompt for creating a series dealing with the subject of AI relationships. Not all of them will be in this area of Literotica. But they will all have one thing in common - At least one character will be "AI."

This particular story turned out to be much longer than I had originally envisioned, so I split it into three (or more?) manageable chunks. Stay tuned...

I would like to thank all those who have read, voted, and commented on my stories. I especially appreciate those who have reached out to me with feedback and suggestions.

I also want to thank QuantumMechanic1957 for beta-reading this story. His suggestions have helped tremendously, and I want to thank those who have reached out by email and those who have offered comments and constructive criticism on my previous stories.

On a final note, no artificial intelligence was employed in the creation of this story.

And now, the disclaimers:

For those who want to say this or that would never happen, remember this is my universe, a place where nearly anything can, and often does, happen. At least on paper... In addition:

Characters in this story may participate in one or more of the following: Smoking, consumption of adult (meaning, alcoholic) beverages, utterance of profanities. All sexual activity is between consenting adults 18 years of age or older. Statements or views uttered by the fictional characters in this story do not necessarily reflect the views or opinions of the author.

Please refer to my profile for more on my personal policy regarding comments, feedback, follows, etc. (Yes, I DO moderate comments) And please remember, this is a work of fiction, not a docu-drama...

Copyright© 2025 by Saddletramp1956, All rights reserved. No permission to copy, republish, or post on any site in any way, shape, or form, including YouTube video, is permitted.

...

End of "AI Chronicles 02: Steve and Terri"

Sam Winston, the CEO of Acme Advanced Marital Aids, walked into what the company's employees jokingly called the "dungeon." It was the underground laboratory where most of their secret research and development, which shouldn't be widely known, was conducted.

He walked into the room where Dr. Warren Mengele did most of his work and looked at the jars containing blobs of gray organic matter suspended in a clear liquid. Wires ran to electrodes embedded in the miniature "brains."

Then he glanced at the life-sized humanoid robots in various stages of assembly. Some of them were partially covered with blotches of pink lab-grown "skin," made from actual human skin cells. Sam ignored a slight chill as he thought one of the bots winked at him.

Wearing his traditional white smock, Warren entered the room and saw his boss studying the organoids.

"They're amazing, aren't they?" Warren asked casually as he stepped beside Sam.

"If you say so," Sam replied evenly. "Are these the new arrivals?"

"Yes. They just arrived from Switzerland yesterday. We are preparing the conditioning for them now."

"How long will these last?" Sam asked.

"With the new conditioning, we hope to see them live at least 150 days," Warren said.

"That's an improvement over the last batch. But they'll need to live a lot longer than that if you ever hope to produce a viable - and profitable -- 'bot," Sam countered pointedly.

"I know. You must understand. This is beyond cutting-edge research. These aren't your run-of-the-mill sex toys, you know. With these, we will completely revolutionize the industry. Imagine it, a whole line of organically intelligent sex robots capable of forming and maintaining viable relationships with humans; more satisfying than any human partner could ever achieve.

"With these, people will no longer need to resort to computer-generated images or AI dildos. We will be able to program and customize each one to its partner." He paused and considered a new idea. "Maybe we could even use them to create 'robot porn' to help fund the program."

"Yes," Sam replied. "And we can make our stockholders rich beyond their wildest dreams. When do you think you can have a working prototype?"

"If all goes well, and the field test results are as promising as the DB results, maybe in six months," Warren speculated.

"Six months," Sam mused, hoping he could see a good return on his investment soon. "I hope so, Warren. The sooner, the better." Not only would the returns make them rich, he would be one step closer to changing the dynamics of human relationships - forever. The thought brought a wry smile to his face.

...

And now, "AI Chronicles 03: Dawn of the Organoids"

Four months later:

Sam sat at the head of the long mahogany table and looked at the others in the conference room. Dr. Warren Mengele had asked for a special meeting of the Board of Directors and senior managers, claiming he had a major announcement and wished to introduce someone to the company leadership.

"Can't you at least tell ME what this is all about?" Sam asked with a touch of exasperation when Warren first made his request.

"Ah, but that would ruin the surprise," Warren said with a wry smile.

Sam reluctantly agreed, although he hated gathering leadership like this without a damn good reason. Like him, they were busy people. They had already gone over the quarterly financials, so this gathering seemed like a waste of time to many of them.

"I hope you have a damn good reason for this meeting, Winston," Herman Willoughby, the Chairman of the Board, growled from his seat to the right of Sam. "I have places to go and things to do."

"I'm sure Peaches will still be available for your Friday afternoon lap dance, Herman," Sam told the gruff old goat, who harrumphed at the sarcastic reply.

Thanks to his private investigators, Sam knew that Herman had been visiting the young blonde at the strip club in Monte Verde for months, and the visits were always for more than just a "dance." Peaches, whose real name was Carrie North, was working through college, and Herman was just one of several regular "clients" helping fund her academic venture. Based on the report, she should sail through her post-doc in 'Woman's Studies' without a penny of debt.

At precisely 2:30 p. m., the double doors to the conference room opened, and Warren walked in. A tall, muscular man dressed in an expensive, tailored Italian suit followed him.

Sam thought the strange man looked slightly familiar but couldn't place him. He was what the women would call a "stud-muffin." Clean-shaven, the man was well over six feet tall with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. He looked to be in his mid-30s, and his short, dark hair was perfectly combed.

As the man walked past the table, Sam noticed the reactions from the women in the room, who apparently found him sexually appealing. Alice Cramer, the 42-year-old divorced head of HR, squirmed uncomfortably in her chair, causing Sam to grin. He could suddenly almost smell the arousal from the women filling the room.

"Who have we got here?" Sam asked when Warren and his guest reached him.

"Mr. Winston, ladies and gentlemen," Warren told the room. "Please allow me to introduce... Jake Six."

Jake extended a hand to Sam, which he accepted. Sam found the man's handshake firm and the smile on his face genuine. Still, something seemed... different.

"Mr. Six. It's a pleasure meeting you, sir," Sam said.

"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Winston," Jake replied in a voice totally devoid of accent.

Sam looked at Warren, his brows raised. "Is this..."

"Yes," Warren replied. "Jake is the first successful organoid-driven humanoid digital bull."

The statement caused a stir among the company leaders and board members. Sam smiled as he nodded.

"Organoid?" Herman asked, a scowl on his face.

"Yes. Generally speaking, Mr. Willoughby, an organoid is defined as a, and I quote, 'collection of organ-specific cell types that develops from stem cells or organ progenitors, and self-organizes through cell sorting and spatially restricted lineage commitment in a manner similar to in vivo.' There's more to it than that, of course."

"Of course," Herman stammered, even more confused than before.

"You have outdone yourself, Warren. Congratulations," Sam said. "I take it then that you have solved the longevity issue."

"We have made great strides in that area," Warren replied proudly. "We developed a technique that replenishes the organoid cells as they die off. It's still somewhat experimental, but early tests have proven quite effective. In theory, Jake could... possibly... live... forever."

That elicited more gasps and murmurs from the others in the room.

"Forever," Herman repeated quietly as his mind began to consider the possibilities.

"And how... functional... is Jake?" blurted Melissa Cartwright, the director of sales. She immediately looked down awkwardly, and her face practically glowed crimson.

"Completely," Warren responded urbanely as if he did not notice her embarrassment. "He has been programmed with multiple techniques. Perhaps you'd like to... inspect him up close?"

"Could I?" Melissa asked, looking up quickly, her eyes growing wide.

"Of course. With Mr. Winston's approval, naturally."

"By all means," Sam said, suppressing a leer and gesturing to the younger woman.

Melissa stood and walked to Jake, who eyed the attractive brunette with an appreciative smile.

"Remove your clothing," Warren told Jake.

"Very well," Jake said agreeably.

Everyone watched, shocked, as Jake nonchalantly removed his clothing, showing no indications of embarrassment. Soon, he stood naked in front of everyone in the room. His muscular frame was well-sculpted, and everyone was impressed by the details he presented. Like the other women, Melissa's eyes were irresistibly drawn to the large flaccid penis that hung between his legs.

"Would you like to touch it?" Jake asked Melissa.

"Yes. May I?" Melissa replied in a husky voice.

"Please do," Jake said.

Melissa tentatively reached out and grasped the dangling member. She was surprised that it felt just like the real thing - warm and soft - only much larger than anything she had ever been intimately familiar with.

"Stroke it if you wish," Jake instructed.

Stunned at Jake's command, Melissa unconsciously stroked the large appendage and felt it become hard in her hands. Her eyes widened as it grew to a rock-hard nine inches in length in less than two minutes. She licked her lips as she wrapped both of her small hands around the thick artificial penis and wondered at how hot it felt.

The erotic curiosity of what it would feel like... inside her... flooded through her body. She could feel herself getting wet and blushed even more intensely. If she had thought for even a moment about what she must look like, stroking an artificial penis in obvious lust... but there was no thought involved.

"It's so... hard. And so... beautiful," Melissa gasped. "It feels so... real."

"Suck it," Jake commanded, his voice deepening and his artificial eyes opening wide as he spoke.

Concerned, Melissa glanced at Sam, who nodded in approval. The others stood and gathered closer to watch.

Dropping to her knees, Melissa opened her mouth and gently, tentatively, licked the tip of the hard phallus. Finding that it felt and tasted much like a real penis, she opened wider and took as much as she could into her throat.

"That's it. Take it all the way," Jake ordered.

At Jake's command, Melissa gently worked the entire thing into her mouth and then sucked it down her throat with an effort. With her nose buried firmly in the nest of hair, she began massaging the underside by running her tongue vigorously back and forth under the giant member. As she did, Jake put his hands behind her head and began thrusting his hips firmly.

"Yes. That feels so good. You really know how to suck cock," Jake said somewhat mechanically, following the algorithms programmed into his central processing unit while accessing his voluminous database. The organoid brain tissue was learning rapidly and adapting.

Everyone gathered closer around a totally enthralled Melissa as she enthusiastically sucked Jake's manhood. This was far more than they could have hoped for, but the best was yet to come.

"You like Jake's cock, don't you?" Jake demanded in a tone that implied that 'No' was not an option.

Melissa moaned as she tried to answer but was unable to form a coherent statement with her mouth fully filled.

"I am getting ready to ejaculate. You will swallow," Jake commanded as he held Melissa's head to his groin. Everyone could see... something... being pumped in massive surges into Melissa's throat. They watched her struggle to swallow, but a few rivulets of thick white fluid escaped her lips.

After taking his load down her throat, Melissa looked up at Jake with glassy eyes, his cock still in her mouth and her body trembling with overwhelming desire. The narcotics in the synth-semen were very fast-acting.

"Get naked. I will fuck you now," Jake ordered in a monotone.

Melissa instantly obeyed, the cock popping out of her mouth as she tore at the buttons on her blouse, every fiber of her being driven wild by technologically-enhanced lust. She practically ripped her clothing off, tossing the garments on the floor like so much garbage until she was completely naked and heaving deep, ragged breaths.

"On the table," Jake commanded, pointing to the mahogany conference table.

Again, Melissa followed his directions, hopping up on the table. She spread her legs wide, and everyone could see her puffy lower lips open in anticipation. Melissa ran two fingers along her wet slit and looked at Jake with raging desire.

"Take me," she groaned. "I'm all yours."

Jake approached Melissa, his glistening, rock-hard nine-inch penis jutting out in front of him. Everyone except Sam and Warren gathered around to see the exhibition close up. The other women pushed their way up to the front.

Melissa gasped loudly as Jake abruptly thrust his cock inside her in a single motion and began fucking her like a piston in an engine. She cried out and grabbed the edge of the table, her eyes rolling back in ecstasy.

"I must say, Warren. You've quite outdone yourself this time," Sam said quietly as the sex show progressed at the table in a delirious rush. "Nicely done."

"Thank you, Sam. We've put in a lot of man-hours on this project. It's not easy accurately replicating human body functions, you know. The internal pheromone diffuser is only set to use a 30% concentration for demonstrations. I have had no problem getting volunteers from the female staff to be test subjects."

"What's your next step?" Sam asked, leaning forward to see the intimate action as Melissa let loose and went wild, thrashing so hard the huge, heavy table actually swayed slightly.

"We need to see how Jake can function outside the lab and in society," Warren explained. By now, Melissa had taken Herman's much smaller cock in her mouth and was sucking it as Jake pummeled her vagina. Her free hand was jerking off another man's cock, who was gurgling deep in his throat and squeezing the nearest breast.

One of the other women reached toward the unoccupied breast while another rubbed herself with grim determination. The others cheered the action on as they fumbled with their own clothes.

"How do you plan to do that?" Sam asked, turning back to Warren.

"One of the lab techs who helped build Jake has volunteered to let him stay with her."

"Interesting. And this lab tech is married?" Sam wondered aloud.

"As a matter of fact, she is," Warren replied with a small, bland smile. "To an accountant."

Sam chuckled at that. This was getting better and better.

"Jake is, after all, designed to be the ultimate digital bull," Warren reminded him.

"Perfect," Sam said. "Be sure to keep me in the loop."

"I will," Warren said.

Herman practically staggered to the two men, his fly still open and his flaccid member hanging, exhausted. He grinned almost drunkenly as he looked at Warren.

"Doc, I think you've got a winner here. We all agree the stockholders will love this. Do you have any female versions of Jake?" Herman asked hopefully.

"We are working on that now, Mr. Willoughby," Warren assured him. "That demonstration could possibly occur in two or three more months. Our early models had breasts with an overly artificial feel. Cultivating actual breast tissue has been challenging."

Herman had the expression of a starving man suddenly seeing a Thanksgiving feast.

"I think your demonstration has gone on long enough, don't you, Warren?" Sam asked after looking at the rapidly expanding debauchery taking place on his expensive conference table. The remaining women fumbled with their blouses, and the men groped for their zippers. All were more than a little glassy-eyed.

"I agree," Warren said. The three men returned to the table, and Sam loudly clapped his hands to get everyone's attention.

Jake stepped back and stood as still and straight as his member. Warren stepped toward him before speaking quietly.

"We're done now. You can deflate and get dressed."

"Yes, Doctor," Jake replied. His erect penis instantly deflated. Picking up his clothing, he retreated to a corner where he dressed.

The others refused to look at each other as they shook off the effects of the sexual environment and tried to reassemble their clothes into some semblance of propriety. Most had a disappointed, frustrated expression, which strongly hinted at what they were going to pursue the instant the meeting was over. All trembled as they resumed their seats.

Melissa remained on the table, her naked form twitching in orgasmic bliss. Streamers of white crisscrossed her jiggling breasts with their taut nipples, and a generous helping of synth-semen oozed out of her gaping vagina.

"Ms. Cartwright, would you mind putting your clothes back on, please?" Sam asked, handing over the tattered remains of her clothing. "You can use the washroom if you wish to clean up."

"Y... yes, sir," Melissa stammered, dazed. "Can I have one of these, please?" Her tone was hoarse and practically begging.

"Not just yet, Ms. Cartwright," Sam told her with a slight chuckle.

Her distracted gaze fell onto Warren's face. "Is it one size fits all, or will customers be able to specify... size?"

"We are not at that point in our development yet, Ms. Cartwright," Warren replied. "I trust you found the encounter... satisfying."

"More than satisfying, Doctor. I've never experienced anything like it," Melissa gushed before she looked down at her ravaged body, gasped, blushed yet again, and rushed to the executive washroom with her clothes in her hands.

"How long before you can go into production?" Herman asked, dollar signs on his mind.

"We are far from that, Mr. Willoughby," Warren replied. "Jake is a concept model. There are still many technological hurdles to cross before we can even begin to think about mass production."

"I see. Will these replace the digital bulls?" Warren wondered out loud.

"Maybe, in time. The costs of the initial models will be quite prohibitive for most of the public, so I don't see that happening for quite some time."

"Maybe we can market to a more upscale clientele," Warren mused. "At first, anyway. Many rich women would pay anything for a 'boy toy' with no strings attached, and rich men would fall all over themselves for a mistress who would never try to walk off with half their fortune. And, of course, there's always the government." He thought about it. "What about legalities?" he asked Sam.

"Good question," Sam replied before turning to Dewey Cheatham, the head of Legal. "I want you and your team to put together the tightest user agreement you possibly can. Quickly."

"Yes, sir," Dewey said, tearing his eyes away from the chief auditor's chest as she tucked her large breasts back into her bra with a look of lust in her eyes.

"And give me a copy," Herman interjected. "I'll reach out to my contacts on Capitol Hill. I'm sure they'll be able to do something. A development like this could have far-reaching possibilities." He had a vision of a 'closed' session of Congress where every one of the peoples' choices was being heartily serviced by an Acme personal assistant and chuckled.

After discussing the marketing potential and Jake's capabilities for another hour, Herman and Sam agreed to call the meeting to an end, reminding everyone to keep quiet about Jake. They all filed out quickly, and Sam suspected that most would be paired up in locked offices and not thinking much about work for the next hour or so.

...

Ryan Blake pulled into his garage, having completed another grueling day at the bank where he worked as a forensic accountant. He was pleased to see Vicky's car at home for a change. She had been working a lot of long hours at Acme lately.

He never could understand why a company that manufactured marital aids needed a trained and certified lab technician, but they paid well and, until lately, had ensured she was at home at a decent hour.

He stepped through the door that led to the kitchen and smelled something delicious. Vicky was opening a bottle of wine and looked up with a smile when she heard Ryan open the door.

"This is a surprise," Ryan said cheerfully as Vicky wrapped her arms around him. They kissed each other and Vicky went back to the wine. "Something smells good," he added.

"I stopped at Olive Garden on the way home and picked up some lasagna and salad. I hope you don't mind," she said.

"Not at all," Ryan replied enthusiastically, though he did regret that he got to sample her cooking at dinner all too infrequently these days. Then he saw a man in a suit sitting on the couch and did a double-take. "Uh, who is that man sitting on the couch?"

"Oh, him," Vicky said, her tone suddenly nervous, turning to face Jake but not meeting his eyes. "Uh, he's a new employee at the lab. C'mon, I'll introduce you."

Ryan let Vicky lead him into the living room. Vicky spoke after they reached the coffee table. Ryan noticed the man was looking straight ahead at something on the opposite wall as if in a trance.

"Excuse me, Jake. I want to introduce you to my husband, Ryan," Vicky said gently.

Jake jerked his head toward Vicky's voice as though hearing it for the first time. He looked at the two of them with a blank expression. After a few moments, he stood slowly and extended a hand, which Ryan accepted.

"Ryan, this is Jake. He works at the lab," Vicky said.

"Pleased to meet you, Jake," Ryan said cautiously. "Vicky tells me you're new at the lab. What do you do there?"

"He's part of a new project we're working on," Vicky inserted quickly, not giving Jake time to respond. "It's all kinda hush-hush," she added with a nervous giggle.

"Ah, I see," Ryan said, raising an eyebrow. Vicki never giggled. Although he accepted Vicky's explanation, something about this man didn't sit well with Ryan. He couldn't put his finger on it but made a mental note to bring it up with Vicky after dinner.

"So, Jake. Where are you staying?" Ryan asked casually.

"He's not staying anywhere, so I offered to let him stay in our guest bedroom if you don't mind," Vicky piped up quickly.

Ryan looked at his wife and wondered why she was doing all of Jake's talking. Was there more to this than she was letting on? He felt a deep uneasiness as he considered her request for a moment before continuing.

"I suppose. For a little while, maybe. How long do you plan to be here, Jake?" Ryan asked. Vicky started to speak, but Ryan stopped her. "I'd like to hear it from him if you don't mind, dear."

"Of course. I'm sorry," Vicky replied, suddenly looking even more nervous.

"I do not know," Jake said mechanically. "I guess it would depend..."

"On what?" Ryan pressed pointedly.

Jake searched his database for an appropriate answer as his algorithms analyzed the previous discussion. His chips generated several dozen random numbers and pulled candidate responses from storage, and his brain cell clusters acted like small quantum computers, carefully weighing the situation and the response scores. Finally, an answer made it through...

"On how things work out," Jake finally ventured. His tone was more than a little mechanical as if he were trying to hide uncertainty.

"I see," Ryan replied. He had a bad feeling about this but decided not to raise a stink in front of a guest. "Well, never let it be said that I was not a gracious host. I believe Vicky has dinner prepared. Why don't you join us at the table?"

Jake ran the question through his organoid brain and submitted the query to his database for an appropriate response. One hundred thirty-two passed the initial screening and were carefully vetted according to his general programming but were overridden by a prime rule.

"I would love to, but I am not hungry, and pasta does not sit well with my system," he finally said.

"Why don't you go upstairs and make yourself more comfortable?" Vicky chimed in quickly, seeing Ryan's sidelong glance.

"Yes, I will do that. Thank you," Jake replied. As Ryan and Vicky watched, Jake went up the stairs with a precise, measured tread and entered the guest bedroom before closing the door.

"Let's sit and eat," Vicky said, suddenly cheerfully in an obviously forced way. "Before the lasagna gets cold."

"Good idea. And then you can tell me about this... Jake," Ryan replied severely.

"Trust me, dear. There's no one quite like Jake," Vicky said after they got their food.

"So, what does he do, and why is he staying here, then? That suit and those shoes are very expensive. Surely he can afford to stay in a nice hotel downtown," Ryan observed before taking a bite of lasagna. "Unless, of course, this is another one of your attempts to get me to agree to a threesome," he added darkly.

"No, sweetheart," Vicky cooed. "It's nothing like that, I assure you. Honestly. You've made it quite clear that you have no interest in a threesome. Not even if I brought in a beautiful woman to join us."

"That's right, dear. Because in my mind, there's no one more beautiful than you. And you're the only person I want to make love to. And you know that I could never stand to see you with another man, even if I were involved." He made sure to put some extra emphasis on the word 'never.'

"That's one of the reasons I love you so much," Vicky purred as she batted her eyelids. "You know just the right things to say to make me feel special."

"That's because you ARE special," Ryan told her. But he knew her well enough to know when she was deflecting, and she had been doing that ever since he got home. And batting her eyes like an old-time movie actress? Something was decidedly not what she wanted to make it seem. "Can you please answer the rest of my questions? What does Jake do, and why is he in our house instead of a hotel?"

"You know I can't talk about my work," Vicky replied defensively.

"I wasn't asking about your work. I asked about Jake's," Ryan pressed, causing Vicky to smile appreciatively.

After a few moments of reflection, Vicky sighed and answered her husband. "He's part of a new project I am working on. You could say he's a crucial component of the project."

"I see," Ryan said, not fully understanding the word salad Vicky was handing out. "And why is he here?"

"Upper management thought it would be best if Jake stayed with a team member, so I volunteered since Jake and I are both involved in the same project, and we have a spare bedroom."

"And how long will he be staying here?" Ryan asked. The question was a little sharper this time, though not yet heated.

"I don't know," Vicky replied, shrugging her shoulders while quickly flicking her eyes away. "Maybe a few days at most."

"I suppose I can live with that," Ryan said hesitantly. He was slightly unnerved. Vicky had 'tells' when she wasn't being entirely truthful, and she had shown every single one in the last five minutes. He thought about Vicky's recent late work days. It might be better if Jake was close for a few days so he could keep an eye on the situation. It would be cheaper than a PI.

"Thank you," Vicky replied, emphasizing her gratitude with a hot kiss that promised a hot time in the bedroom that night. "I love you so much."

"And I love you," Ryan said, not wondering about the kiss but wondering seriously about the reason behind the kiss.

That night, Ryan and Vicky engaged in a rousing bout of lovemaking that intensely satisfied both of them. Ryan shoved his apprehensions aside and let himself enjoy it. The following morning, Ryan awoke to the smell of bacon. He did his morning business, dressed, and went downstairs to grab his morning cup of coffee and savor Vicky's cooking.

"What's that?" he asked when he saw Vicky stirring something in a large tumbler.

"It's a protein shake for Jake. He has specific nutritional requirements. Food allergies and stuff. Some are pretty severe. Would you like a taste?" she asked, teasing, taking a small amount of the whitish watery goo from the tumbler.

"No, thanks," Ryan said as he caught a whiff of the stuff. "I'll stick to bacon and eggs, thank you very much." Jake came down the stairs as Ryan finished stirring creamer into his coffee. Ryan noticed the man had worn tight blue jeans and a polo shirt. "Good morning, Jake. Did you sleep well last night?"

"Sleep?" Jake asked with a frown, as if hearing a strange word for the first time.

"Yes. You know, saw logs. Recharge your batteries," Ryan replied jokingly.

"Recharge... Yes, my battery packs are fully recharged now. Thank you for asking," Jake said.

"You're welcome," Ryan said, concerned about Jake's apparent confusion. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Uh, no. Coffee does not agree with my internal systems. Thank you anyway," Jake said.

"I... see," Ryan said. "I guess that just leaves more for the two of us, then," he added, looking at Vicky, who avoided meeting his eyes.

Vicky placed their breakfast on the table and handed Jake the tumbler with his shake. As Jake and Vicky watched, shocked, Jake gulped down the entire tumbler without taking a breath. He then placed the plastic container on the table.

"Uh, you have some around your mouth," Vicky said in a motherly tone, handing Jake a paper napkin. Jake took the napkin and looked at it as though examining a new discovery. After glancing at Vicky, who mimicked wiping her mouth, Jake followed suit. Then he began tearing the napkin into small pieces, placing them in his mouth.

"Please don't eat the napkin," Ryan said, staring. "Just toss it in the trash." Looking at Vicky, Ryan shook his head slightly, wondering if something was wrong with Jake. Vicky looked down at her plate in embarrassment. The programmers at the lab would hear about this, she thought.

"So, what's on your plate?" Vicky asked when Jake sat down, hoping to change the subject of conversation.

"I had planned to work on the riding lawn mower," Ryan said. "I need to change the oil canister, air filters, and blades. Then, I'll mow the yard and clean the garage if I have time. What about you?"

"I've got a list of things I need from the store. Do you want to come with me, Jake?" she asked.

"Yes. I will accompany you," Jake replied in a monotone. His processors were busy analyzing the previous exchange, saving the results in his database for more analysis and possible future use.

"Can you think of anything you need?" Vicky asked Ryan.

"Not off the top of my head," Ryan told her. Suddenly, he was more than a little uneasy at why a guy would want to go shopping with a woman rather than hang out or do more physical things. "Maybe some meat for the barbecue. I have everything else." He paused, then looked at Jake. "Unless, of course, you're vegan."

"Vegan?" Jake asked as his processor analyzed the input. "Ah, you mean, do I eat meat? No, I do not eat meat. I guess that would make me a... vegan."

"Not quite, but close enough, I guess," Vicky said.

"So, what do you eat?" Ryan asked.

Jake's processing unit analyzed the question before responding: "I do not consume anything you would call food. The protein shake would be sufficient."

"Uh-huh," Ryan commented, not knowing what to make of this.

"Please, do not let my... nutritional requirements... keep you from your meal preparations," Jake said.

"Okay," Ryan replied. "Well, I'd better get started then. I have a lot to do. Thank you for breakfast, sweetheart. It was delicious," he added, emphasizing his appreciation with a heartfelt kiss.

"You're very welcome," Vicky said. "I need to get changed so we can get going."

Ryan went to the garage while Vicky went to the master bedroom to change into jeans and a casual blouse, ensuring she was modest enough to pass the "husband" test. By the time she got to her car in the garage, Ryan was deep into his work on the riding lawn mower.

"I'd hug you, but my hands are a bit greasy," Ryan said as he leaned in to kiss his wife.

"I appreciate that," Vicky replied sweetly.

"You two be good now," Ryan called sharply as Vicky entered the car.

"I assure you I will be good," Jake said before getting into the car.

"You'd damn well better be," Ryan said quietly as Vicky backed out of the garage. He forced a smile and waved as his wife took off down the street. He returned to his chores, focusing on his work to keep thoughts of Jake's last comment out of his mind.

...

After spending over an hour shopping, Vicky and Jake returned to her car. The back seat and the trunk were full of her purchases. Jake's processors had gone into information overload as he processed everything he had seen and heard. He stared out the front window as his systems filed and processed the gigabytes of external stimuli.

"Are you okay?" Vicky asked as she watched him process everything. He didn't respond, so she raised her voice. "Jake? Are you okay?" she asked.

"Okay? I do not fully comprehend your question. As you know, I was designed as a mobile digital bull. My algorithms are intended to interact with human females sexually, not socially.

"I find it difficult to suppress my primary directive, my basic purpose. It is extremely frustrating not to act as my algorithms dictate," he added as his optical scanners evaluated Vicky's increasingly sympathetic expression and shifted modes.

There were 781 draft scripts in his memory banks, and his organoid brain understood on a rudimentary level that the 'bull' scripts would not work here. He chose one evaluated as a 92.4% match to this woman's current emotional state and modulated his vocal processors to produce a bewildered tone laced with pathos. "How do you humans process all of this input?"

Vicky understood his dilemma. As her husband might say in his saltier moments, Jake was designed to fuck, not shoot the shit.

After maintaining the mower, Ryan drove it outside and was pleased to see it operating at peak performance. Ryan started it and drove it onto the driveway. It roared as smoothly as that single malt scotch his father raved about.

He grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator, put on his hearing protection, and mowed the front and back yards. Satisfied with his work, Ryan looked at his watch and realized he had been going for nearly four hours.

"No wonder I'm feeling a little hungry," he muttered, wiping the sweat from his face.

He drove the mower back into the garage and was pleased to see that Vicky had returned. He had no idea how long she had been home as he hadn't heard her return, and she hadn't come out to let him know she was back, which seemed strange.

Usually, he would've stopped to help her carry the groceries into the house. Perhaps Jake helped her this time, he thought darkly. He went into the house and instantly heard the one sound he never thought he would ever hear - it was Vicky, and she was in the throes of orgasm, WITHOUT HIM.

"Shit," Ryan growled, rage flaring deep in his chest as he bounded up the stairs as fast as he could. His rage only grew when he looked into the guest bedroom and saw Vicky naked on the bed, her legs spread wide. Jake was between her legs, pounding her for all he was worth.

Without conscious thought, Ryan ran into the room, grabbed Jake by the shoulder, and swung him around. He drove his fist as hard as he could into the middle of Jake's face as Vicky began screaming.

"Please, Ryan, don't! It's not what you think," she shrieked, but it was too late.

Ryan's fist connected with Jake's head, and Ryan got the second shock of his day. Ryan heard a metallic "clang," and his fist felt like he had struck a tank. Looking back, he saw a flap of Jake's skin dangling from his face and light reflecting off the titanium skull underneath. A yellowish liquid dripped from the wound and fell on Jake's body and the rug.

"What... the... fuck?" Ryan managed to gasp through his pain, cradling his injured hand. What the HELL was this? Vicky didn't allow guns, but he had a baseball bat stashed under his side of the bed...

Jake's eyes flitted erratically back and forth as his system tried to reset itself from the shock of being struck.

"You... struck... me," Jake stammered. "Why... did... you... strike... me?" The tone was now obviously artificial.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Ryan yelled as Vicky got off the bed to examine Jake's wound. "What the fuck is he?"

"You damaged him," Vicky replied, calmly examining Jake's face. "I need to get him back to the lab. ASAP."

"What?" Ryan asked as he massaged his aching hand to regain some feeling. "What are you talking about?"

"I'll explain later. I told you it's not what you think," Vicky snapped angrily. She grabbed her phone and called the lab. Ryan heard her say something about a team that would pick her and Jake up. She finished her call and came back into the bedroom.

"A team will be here in a few minutes to take Jake and me back to the lab. I'm getting dressed and will be back as soon as possible. Then we'll talk. In the meantime, please do not damage Jake more than you already have. I'll do everything possible to keep my boss from suing you."

"Suing me?" Ryan exclaimed. "For what? For stopping some asshole from screwing you?"

"Dammit, Ryan! I don't have time or the clearance to explain it any further. Jake represents a significant investment to the lab. You have no idea what you've done. Now let me get dressed. When the team from the lab arrives, let them in. They'll have some paperwork for you to sign. Please don't argue with them. Can you manage to do that?" a red-faced Vicky shouted sarcastically.

"Yeah, I can do that," a visibly angry Ryan replied. "But you need to come clean with me."

"I will. Now, go."

Ryan angrily glared at his wife. How dare she order him around like a servant!

"Go? Who the FUCK do you think you are? I'll do whatever I damn well please in my own damn house," Ryan shot back. "And you better tell me what the HELL is going on."

Vicky withered under Ryan's angry outburst and realized she had gone too far. She was suddenly aware that she was completely naked, with sexual juices running down her thighs and her labia hanging down and obviously stretched by Jake's massive organ. She realized that standing there like this was like waving a red cape before a bull. She put an arm over her breasts and cupped her other hand over her crotch.

That didn't seem to have the desired effect, as Ryan's eyes kept darting looks of pure hate at Jake, who wove back and forth slightly as his systems attempted damage control. It didn't help that the osmotic pumps hadn't received the command to deflate, and his organ was still fully erect and glistening wetly.

Vicky feared that Ryan would attack Jake again. While he couldn't damage the titanium structure even with a hammer, he could wreak havoc with the soft tissues, and none of the systems had been designed for more shock than a slight jostling.

Desperately, she tried to placate Ryan. She gave up trying to preserve her now nonexistent modesty and held her hands out, fingers spread and palms toward her seething husband. "Look, Ryan, I'm sorry. This has all gone wrong. I can explain everything. Just don't damage him - it - anymore. I need to get dressed before the Lab team arrives, and they'll be here very soon."

Ryan flexed his hand, discovering that nothing was broken, and some bit of remaining rationality spit out through gritted teeth. The expression he flung at her nearly made her cringe. "You better have an unbelievably good explanation, or you can forget about coming back home again."

He snarled at an unresponsive Jake, then turned back to Vicky and held his thumb and forefinger close together. "I am THIS close to taking my baseball bat and turning this... thing... into scrap that would make Humpty-Dumpty look good!"

The potential consequences flashed through Vicky's mind, and she almost vomited. "I will. Please go downstairs and let the team in as soon as they arrive." After several deep, ragged breaths, Ryan turned, strode out of the room, slammed the door, and stomped down the stairs.

Vicky was shaken, and her heart rate was too fast to count. She could lose her job in a public and humiliating way that would leave her impoverished for the rest of her life, given the secrecy penalties in the employment contract she had signed. She could lose her marriage to a wonderful man, and all her plans would be out the window. If she lost BOTH, she was royally screwed.

She cleaned herself and dressed as fast as possible while Ryan waited downstairs. She could hear him banging around downstairs and winced at a few sharp thumps as he probably hit the walls. A few minutes later, she heard the doorbell ring and looked out her window to see a van from the lab.

Good, she thought as she finished brushing her hair. This could cause enough of a scandal with the neighbors; she could not afford to look disheveled if anyone saw her leaving. She had to be certain that any cover story the Lab created wouldn't make her situation worse.

A glowering Ryan jerked open the door and saw two technicians in white smocks, one male and one female, accompanied by another man in a polo shirt and crisply-pressed trousers. He was slightly shorter than Ryan, middle-aged, with a full head of iron-grey hair without a strand out of place. To Ryan, he reeked of an arrogant, self-righteous lawyer, which caused his resentment to crank up a few more notches to 'seething.'

"Mr. Blake?" the man asked blandly.

"Yes," Ryan hissed.

"Marcus Thompson, AAMA Labs. May we come inside, please?"

"Yeah. Your... thing... is upstairs. First door on the left," Ryan gritted, jerking his thumb at the stairs.

The man nodded to the two technicians, who hurried up the stairs. He then turned to Ryan and pulled a form from his briefcase.

"What the Hell is this?" Ryan snarled when Marcus handed him the form.

"A standard agreement. In short, it says you agree to pay for any damages inflicted on AAMA property, and you agree not to hold AAMA or any of its officers responsible for any damages done to your marriage. It also stipulates that you will not disclose any information regarding this incident," Marcus replied condescendingly.

"Screw you. I'm not signing a damn thing until my attorney reviews this," Ryan spit.

"I'm afraid you don't understand..."

"No, YOU don't understand. I walked into my house to find your... robot... raping my wife. I responded like any good husband would. I'm not paying for shit. Understand? You're lucky I'm not calling the police right now," Ryan hissed through gritted teeth. "Or the freaking newspapers!" He felt a badly needed twinge of satisfaction as this Marcus character winced slightly.

Just then, the two technicians came down the stairs, escorting a dressed Jake, who walked mechanically but shakily. Vicky followed them down the stairs.

"Very well, sir," Marcus sighed. "If you insist." He turned to the techs before continuing. "Get him into the van."

"I'll follow you to the lab," Vicky told Marcus before turning to her husband, who was still seething.

"We'll talk about this when I get back. I'm sorry," she told him. She tried to offer a reassuring, or at least apologetic, kiss, but he stepped back, warning her off. She cringed fleetingly inside. Her auspicious day had gone to pure shit so quickly.

"Just... go," Ryan snarled. "And don't bring that... thing... back to this house."

He watched as the van left his driveway, followed by Vicky's car, then slammed the door, grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, and contemplated the future of his marriage.

...

To be continued...