Cammie, the Unlikely Sexbot Ch. 01

(Part 1 of 6)

Carter Wise was skeptical. He trusted his experts. He trusted his project manager. But when they proposed such a major course change, he would trust... but he would verify. As the president of Wise Automation, his stakeholders depended on him to make the right decisions. His experts told him Camille Smith, this overstuffed thirty-three year old woman, was the future of the industry. He had to meet her to be convinced. So far he could not be certain.

He was certain, though, that he hated the woman's husband. Edwin Smith clearly did not find his wife attractive. He couldn't seem to understand why the company would want her for a femme-borg model. True, Carter himself was struggling with the idea. But he wouldn't dare say that in front of her. Edwin had no such restraint and Cammie's face registered her feelings about that. Carter's instinct was to encourage the man to talk, to separate the woman from her husband. But he found himself feeling her pain and desired to shield her from criticism. Was this her power working on him? Was he falling for her?

"It's true, Mr. Smith, that borgs are typically modeled on the most attractive people... models, porn stars, media personalities. And while these borgs are very successful we feel that ultimately it may be a limiting factor in our growth." Carter took a sip of his instant coffee and managed to act as if he liked it. "There is an idea that when something looks very much like a human, but isn't a human, a person has a negative reaction to it. My people think that the attractiveness of the human-like object worsens this reaction."

Edwin's mouth hung open incredulously. "Are you saying the femme-borgs are too hot?"

"Hard to believe, Mr. Smith, but our typical customer is not in the habit of bedding down with models and actors. Having relations with what seems to be a beautiful man or woman can be intimidating, no matter how receptive they might behave. May I smoke?" He tapped a Kirkhill out of his holder and lit it dramatically, taking a long drag and exhaling it toward the ceiling. "And it goes beyond sexual intercourse. Our customers frequently treat their borgs like friends and spouses."

"Losers." Edwin sneered into his can of beer.

"Oh, we can't all be married to a gorgeous creature like your wife, Mr. Smith." Carter flashed his teeth at Cammie and she rewarded him with a radiant smile. It felt good. He was definitely having feelings for her. "There are many reasons a person can't or shouldn't have a real partner. Sad reasons, shameful reasons, even perfectly respectable reasons. These people can still have sex. They can come home from work to be greeted by a friendly face."

Edwin belched loudly. He wasn't buying it, but that didn't matter. Carter wasn't talking to him. He was talking to her. Hers was the only opinion that mattered.

"But what if it isn't the right face? Culture tries to tell us what we should and shouldn't find attractive. There are some who say that a man's preferences are fixed early in life, at the onset of puberty perhaps. It's a turbulent time, mentally and physically, and a young man's heart is desperate to fix upon his first love. Girls his own age are no good. They have not yet blossomed into full womanhood. And besides, just the year before they were yucky and gross. Not even a massive dose of testosterone can overcome that bias without sufficient time."

Camille smiled knowingly. She was a junior high teacher and knew exactly what Carter was talking about.

"Older girls are standoffish and their boyfriends have cars. Not many opportunities for socialization there. So for many boys, their longings are directed toward remote objects of affection with whom their only interactions are observational: celebrities, cheerleaders, lifeguards. And they carry these ideals with them into adulthood. That's essentially the demographic we've been targeting up until now."

Camille leaned forward to slide the ashtray closer to Carter's Kirkhill. He caught himself before he blew a stream of smoke into her generous cleavage. "But you don't think that's the largest group of them?"

"Not by a long shot, Ms. Smith," he replied, His eyes glittered with his own cleverness, though of course none of this was the product of his own reasoning. "No, most boys hunger for the sight and sound and scent of real flesh and blood. They are constantly scanning their environment for a woman, any woman, for them to superimpose their fantasies of love and lust. For some, this woman is found within their own family unit."

"Are you suggesting...?" Edwin began, his fist tightening around his aluminum can.

"I'm not suggesting they act on their impulses, no. But I think we all know men who have married women very much like their mothers, for instance."

Edwin relaxed. "Yeah, I guess so. Weirdos."

"But that is also a small group and one that would be hard for us to cater to. No, the group we intend to service is one with a particularly benign object of affection. They once fell in love with a woman they interacted with for eight hours a day, five days a week, a woman who was wholesome and bursting with femininity. She was well dressed, well made up. She was kind to them and generous but she could also be authoritative and tough."

"I... think... I..." Camille had an apprehensive look in her eyes.

"You got it, Ms. Smith." Carter nodded and stabbed his cigarette out in the ashtray. "A significant number of American boys fall in love with their teachers, women so much more accessible and desirable than any other female in their orbit. They might see her getting married, having children of her own. Unintentionally, she is giving them a chaste lesson in love and letting them know what they should aspire to in their future relationships."

Carter could see Cammie's mind reviewing her interactions with her own students, searching for correlation with what he was saying. It was a risk to lay it all out for her like that. But he felt it was the right choice. Then Edwin's oafish voice broke the spell.

"That's total hogwash," he said.

"You think so, Mr. Smith?" Carter asked, his voice neutral. "Yet here you are, happily married to a wholesome thirty-something woman, and a public school teacher in the bargain."

Edwin leaned back in the sofa and waggled his beer can in Carter's direction. "She wasn't thirty when I married her and she wasn't a teacher. She was twenty-one and still in college. She was a fox too, I assure you. She hadn't let herself go like she has now."

Cammie's eyes fell and Carter was torn between comforting her and slapping the shit out of her husband, or having someone else do it, rather. He didn't react at all, though. Soon, soon, she would be away from this horrible man. Maybe she would decide she liked the separation. Maybe she would find a man she liked better. He felt life stir in his loins, imagining himself fulfilling the role.

"My mistake, Mr. Smith," he said and slid the contract across the table for them to review. "As you know, the offer is six figures for nine weeks, starting now, guaranteed. And a royalty situation that could prove very lucrative. I need to make a phone call. Why don't you put your heads together and let me know what you decide?"

Of course they took the deal. It was a lot of money. Carter guessed that Edwin would have sold his wife for much less than that. Cammie would do what her husband wanted. It was what she wanted too, for certain. A few weeks out from under his thumb and to spend them with people who thought she was special. When she was ready to go, he had his driver carry her bags out to the limousine. He forced himself to smile and shake Edwin's hand. Then, after what seemed like forever, Carter had her to himself.

As they drove to the airport, he hungrily took in her appearance. A white bra strap peeked out from under the shoulder of her blouse. He imagined her taking it off for him, reaching behind her back to undo the clasps, her pendulous breasts coming free. The skirt rode up on her smooth thighs and he wondered what it would feel like to run his hands over her legs. She sipped at a glass of mineral water and smiled shyly when she caught him staring. He watched her face as they pulled up to the private jet waiting for them. It was gratifying the way her eyes lit up.

"Have you ever flown in a private plane?" He asked her as the flight crew ushered them aboard.

"I never have, never thought I would." She looked around, incredulous at the luxury of the cabin.

"You should probably get used to it," he said, taking her arm and guiding her to a seat. "If my project manager is correct, you may never need to fly commercial again."

He helped her to get buckled in, taking the opportunity to inhale her fragrance and peer down into her cleavage. He hoped she wouldn't notice the erection in his slacks or, if she did, would take it as a compliment. They were in the air before long and Carter had just two and a half hours to make his move. He chatted with her a while about the business and what she could expect during her tenure at Wise Automation. He deliberately kept it vague, preferring to emphasize the world class facilities and top notch staff that would be looking after her.

"Have you ever joined the mile-high club, Cammie?" He asked during a lull in the conversation.

"The mile-high club?" She replied. "What's that?"

"It's when you are, ah, intimate in an airplane. You know, a mile above the earth."

Cammie flushed and looked down for a moment. "Well, my husband isn't here so I won't be able to join the club today."

"I was thinking that perhaps you and I..." He gave her his most winning smile.

She did not respond as he hoped, a blank expression descending on her features. "I thought it was clear that I wasn't signing on to be a... to be that sort of woman."

"I'm sorry, Cammie. It was only a suggestion. Please accept my apology, won't you."

She looked at him suspiciously. Then her features softened. "Certainly, Mr. Wise. Thank you."

"But you know," he continued, "You will have to expose yourself during this process, to be subjected to some quite intrusive procedures."

"I know. But how about if I wait until it is necessary before I set aside my modesty."

"Well said, Ms. Smith," Carter agreed while he ruminated on a different tactic.

"Still," he said, "I'd hate for you to miss out on a little bit of fun while we're in the air. Have you ever seen one of our borgs, up close?"

"Is there one on board?" Cammie became suddenly interested. W-A borgs were the most advanced in the industry. The lease on one cost as much as some automobiles and the owners tended to value their privacy. So of course she was unlikely to have ever seen one.

"Yes, we have a prototype of our latest homme-borg. He's in the private lounge at the back of the plane. Why don't you make his acquaintance? You wake him up by saying his name: Curtis."

"Oh, it's male?"

"Well, he's a robot. But yes, he's functionally male. If that doesn't interest you there is some adult entertainment on the touchscreen. I can tell you, Cammie, that the next nine weeks will go more smoothly if you can relax and try to enjoy yourself."

She gave an embarrassed grin. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to look at a little 'adult entertainment'. It's private, you say?"

"Completely private, soundproof. Just lock the door behind you and, ah, relax."

She stood up and smoothed the wrinkles on her skirt. He watched her round ass switch from side to side as she made her way to the back of the plane. The moment he heard the door lock he took a remote from his jacket pocket and clicked a button. Two screens rose from his table. One showed Cammie inside the lounge from four different angles. The other showed the default view.

She went over and sat on the end of the love seat nearest Curtis. Carter watched the borg wake up and engage Cammie in conversation. She reached out to touch his hand and he leaned toward her to let her run her fingers through his lifelike hair. He was an attractive model -- young, tan, roguishly handsome. He could tell by her body language that Cammie was responding to the robot's charm. He clicked the 'record' button just in case. But then she politely shook his hand and sent him back to sleep. Carter turned off the recording and trashed the footage.

She turned her attention to the touchscreen and Carter switched his screens to show her face and what she was looking at on the screen. He watched her disinterestedly cycle through the various video channels. Then she scrolled down the list of image galleries, occasionally wrinkling her nose at the thumbnails or their captions. Carter was starting to worry that a mistake had been made.

'She's a cold fish,' he said to himself. 'Charismatic, yes. But no lust in her heart.'

Then he saw her stop on the erotic fiction page and click through to the story categories. She scrolled down the list of categories and selected "Loving Wives".

Carter yawned. 'She must think those are stories about women who love their husbands.'

She selected a story and Carter read along with her for lack of anything better to do. It turned out to be a nasty little story about a woman who blows a coworker in his car in front of her house while her clueless husband sits inside waiting for her. He expected Cammie to react with disgust but she read to the messy end, her eyes wide and her mouth occasionally falling open. When she clicked on chapter two of the story he switched the camera view to a full body shot.

Chapter two was even raunchier. The woman's husband grows suspicious of her coworker and follows them to a motel. There he eavesdrops on them through the wall of the room next to theirs, impotently listening as his wife is sodomized for the first time. Cammie read this trash with rapt attention. Her crossed leg bouncing and bouncing with increasing vigor and Carter found himself getting excited at the thought of her arousal. Maybe he would get to see something after all. He hit 'record' on his remote as she clicked on chapter three. Just in time, too, as she pulled her skirt up to her waist and Carter feasted his eyes on her meaty thighs and virginal white panties.

The third story veered into the ridiculous as the husband again follows the lovers to a motel. When he confronts them, he discovers she is there with not one but two men and he backs down, humiliated. As she read this, Cammie's hand went into her panties and Carter zoomed in on her middle finger working furiously under the thin cotton fabric. He would have liked it better if she took her panties completely off. But he'd be seeing her golden curls soon enough, once the modeling process began.

After the husband in the story was sent away in defeat, the woman's two lovers take her in disgusting detail. This was evidently to Cammie's liking as she advanced the pages with her free hand while spreading her legs wide and going at it with what looked like her middle and ring fingers. Too bad Carter couldn't ask to taste those fingers, not without giving himself away. He promised himself he was going to eat that pussy of hers and then... it hit him. The experts were right. He was ready to throw it all away for this overstuffed thirty-three year old woman.

At the end of the story, the woman returns to her husband and he takes her back, sealing the deal by performing oral sex on her. Reading this, Cammie cried out in climax and thrashed about on the loveseat. The lounge was soundproofed but Carter's microphones recorded it for posterity as his cameras captured it from four directions. He congratulated himself on a job well done and sent the screens back where they came from. He waited patiently for Cammie to get herself washed up and return to her seat. He thought he detected the faint scent of vagina as she passed him.

"Did you enjoy yourself, my dear?" He asked her.

"I just relaxed and read a story," she replied, nonchalantly.

"Was it a good story?"

"It was okay."

Carter smiled to himself and pressed the service button. "Well, why don't we eat lunch now. I believe they have a coq a vin for us today."

Cammie grinned sheepishly. "I don't know what that is but it sounds delish."

The smile he gave her was as warm as it was genuine.

"I find you delightful, Ms. Smith," he said.

She blushed the most amazing shade of pink.