A Girl, A Robot, and Her Butt

Kelly Pak slumped across the campus, the heavy rain mirroring her gloomy mood. Gray, gray and soggy was how she felt inside, and the other students on campus gave her a wide berth, perhaps sensing her downer attitude on a night when most people were gearing up to brave the rain and crash a house party or two.

She sighed loudly, and a couple who made the mistake of walking too close to her took a sharp turn to the left.

Yes, leave me be, she thought. Her backpack seemed to weigh 15 tons, and the final slog up the hill to her apartment took her twice as long as it usually did. Turning the key, she entered a silent world, with a sticky note on the fridge.

"Kelly, girl, gone to Sam's party. Come if ur good. Love, Tammy," Kelly read, and her mood brightened up if only a little. At least she could mope in silence.

The apartment she shared with Tammy was small, just a fraction too small for two women, and they each relished whatever alone time they could get in the apartment. Kelly walked over to the couch, pushed off a pile of unfolded clothes, textbooks, and a single candy wrapper (hers, she remembered) and let herself flop face-first onto the cushions.

"I want a pizza, and an ice cream cone, and a cookie," she mumbled to herself.

"I don't think that'd be a good idea," a chipper voice said. Kelly looked up and saw him leaning in the recliner seat, his broad smile beaming at her.

Mr. Foxgloves was his name, an animatronic bipedal pseudo-intelligent companion. Not a true AI in any sense, but remarkably life-like, and capable of doing most tasks, albeit in a limited capacity. If you didn't know any better, you'd think a cartoon character had sprung to life and wandered out into the real world.

His bright orange fur, fluffy tail, and uncannily expressive face that nonetheless preserved his cute charm were always a hit with guests to her and Tammy's little abode.

He could pick up pencils, fold socks, and even coordinate the robot vacuum, and he at times he could even crack a decent joke. She'd had him since her freshman year in college when her parents had wanted her to have it as a final parting gift.

"Mom, I'm too old for this thing," she remembered saying, but he'd been a tremendous help, fetching her medicine when she was hung over, using his internal heat radiator to warm her when she was having period pains, and even... helping her out with other things.

Things that for sure broke his warranty.

She twirled her hair.

"What's wrong, Miss Kelly?" Mr. Foxgloves said, jumping down from the recliner and walking over to her, his tail swishing back and forth. "Did you have a bad day?"

"Shit, bad is putting it mildly, Foxy. Professor Dina gave me a C- on my paper. Can you believe that? After all the research I did? I even went into the library to look for the one source they haven't digitized yet and it still wasn't enough for her, that bitch."

"Yeah, she's a bitch alright," Mr. Foxgloves said. Kelly chuckled at the strange juxtaposition of his cartoon-y face and the casual way he uttered the word 'bitch', slightly throaty and growly. She'd installed so much custom firmware in his chassis that she sometimes forgot exactly how many capabilities he now possessed. Even now, Foxy reached out with a soft but dexterous hand and stroked her hair. He tut-tutted at her before pulling back in a huff.

"Kelly Pak, you get in the shower right this instant. You are going to catch a cold."

"I don't wanna," she mumbled. Mr. Foxgloves huffed even harder.

"Don't make me stand here and huff at you. I'll huff all night if I have to," he said, crossing his arms and looking every bit a stern little butler.

"Fine, fine, you win," she said, slowly rising up. She was far enough away from the window that she could strip without fear of some pervert watching her from the next building over. As she pulled off her clothes, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Like many others, she'd fallen prey to the freshman 15, and she'd yet to shed the extra pounds.

Though she appreciated the little extra weight in her butt and thighs, she was less enthused about the slight belly pooch she'd developed.

"Foxy, am I still hot? Tell me I'm hot," she said.

"Kelly, you're not just hot, you're boiling. You're sizzling," Mr. Foxgloves said, back to his usual cheery self. She remembered that she probably had to update his compliments. txt file, but couldn't restrain the smile spreading across her face.

"You dork," she said.

"But I'm your dork, don't forget that, Miss Kelly," Mr. Foxgloves said. "I'll help you moisturize when you get out."

Mr. Foxgloves had been right, as he usually was, and the shower was exactly what she needed. The hot water seemed to melt away her stress, and as she ran her hands over her body, she giggled at a sudden wicked thought about how she might be able to spend the rest of the Friday night.

When she emerged from the shower, her skin still glowing from the hot water, Mr. Foxgloves was there with the bottle of lotion.

"Miss Kelly, you look radiant," he said. "Let me get your back for you."

She sat in front of him on the couch, a towel covering her front as she let him squirt the cool lotion onto her back and begin to knead it into her skin. He was always so careful and gentle with her, a soft touch that she'd noticed before, and what had prompted her to install a very specific piece of voice-activated firmware inside of him. She blushed, and brought her finger up to her mouth to give it a chew.

C'mon, girl, she thought to herself, you deserve a little treat tonight.

"Hey, Foxy, can you run program D1K?"

"D1K? Of course, Miss Kelly. Just give me a moment while I do a partial reboot," he said. For a moment his body seized up, and his eyes flashed bright white, followed by a few lines of command code, before their normal, natural blue hue returned.

Only this time he had a sly smile on his face.

"Oh, Miss Kelly, you've had such an awful day," he whispered. His voice modulation had changed, being deeper, huskier, more dominant. His hands, still slick with lotion, also wandered as far as they physically could, wrapping more around her shoulders, down to the top curve of her breasts. "Is there anything I could do for you to make you feel better?"

"Hmm, I don't know, Foxy, what do you think I'd like?" Kelly said, and giggled as Mr. Foxgloves pushed her, prompting her to exaggeratedly fall forward on the couch. She could feel a draft of cool air on her butt, and a warm, wet snout just barely grazing her goosebump-covered flesh.

"That's Mr. Foxgloves to you when I'm the mood to make a girl feel good," he growled. His hand glided over her butt and he gave her a firm squeeze, which was still quite gentle given the limited power of his actuators and servos.

"Mmm, you like my ass, don't you, Foxy?" Kelly said. A moment later, Mr. Foxgloves' hand came down hard on her butt and she broke out into squealing giggles. His firmware was just the way she wanted him to be, and his slap on her bum, with his soft paw, had the perfectly calibrated amount of jolt to make the pleasure center in her brain light up.

"That's Mr. Foxgloves to you, Miss Kelly," he said. His voice was a low growl, and he dragged the smoothened claws on his paw down the curve of her rump. Kelly could feel her heart skipping beats as she twisted to further lift her ass up into the air. "In fact, I think you might need to be disciplined for forgetting my name."

"And what happens to bad girls who need discipline?" She asked, her voice quivering. She felt herself blushing at how damp she was, and she caught herself drooling when Mr. Foxgloves spread her cheeks apart. She could feel her starfish winking at him, her freshly cleaned rear prepped and ready.

"Bad girls get eaten by a fox," Mr. Foxgloves said, and he dragged his tongue across her asshole.

Kelly buried her face in a pillow to stop the low moan that rumbled out of her throat. Mr. Foxgloves' tongue wasn't real, it was a soft artificial muscle-polymer, similar in texture to silicone, but slivered with small heating coils, lubrication tubes, and enough micro-actuators to give him both vibration and a level of prehensile control unmatched by any natural tongue.

In other worlds, with another bit of warranty-voiding firmware installed, he became an Olympic-level ass-eater.

She'd also adjusted him to meet the specific way she liked to be eaten. Boys were great, but there was something more fun and depraved about fine-tuning how Mr. Foxgloves buried his tongue in her asshole. He was in phase one, the buildup, where he acclimated her to the sensation of his tongue tracing circles around her hole, keeping the vibration functionality to a minimum.

"Fuck, I forgot how good you were at rimming," she moaned, her voice giddy.

She bit her lip and continued to press her face down into the pillow in front of her. Mr. Foxgloves served as an anchor, keeping her cheeks spread and pushing back when she started to sway too much. She felt a droplet of her wetness trickle onto her thigh.

"Don't be impatient. You'll like it more if you let me build up the sensation," Mr. Foxgloves said. Every lick was warm and slick, his soft tongue coated in the artificial lubricant pumped up from a tank somewhere in his body. He was moving more forcefully now, his hands digging deeper to keep her ass steady as she began to shake from pleasure.

He was in phase two, now, where he began to circle her entrance. His motions were tighter, but the pressure from his tongue had only increased by a hair's breadth. The speed setting had been listed as "SNAIL", and Kelly quite liked that. Her asshole was usually too tight even for the extra small butt plug she kept in her drawer, but Mr. Foxgloves' tongue was small and pliable enough to slip through her tight entrance.

To help him, she adjusted her legs, bringing her knees closer together to give him easier access.

"Good girl," Mr. Foxgloves mumbled as he delivered a string of tender kisses to the rim of her hole before working his way back to the center. Kelly thought of the advanced learning algorithm she'd also installed that allowed him to adjust his own parameters based on her physiological responses. His machine sensors knew the subtle differences between every moan of pleasure and every groan of discomfort, and he was compelled to adjust to suit her desires.

Her eyes were fluttering from the delicate sensation, but she needed more.

"Mr. Foxgloves, sir, may I?" She asked coyly, slipping a hand between her legs to touch her needy pussy. Warmth immediately cascaded from her crotch to her stomach, chest, and cheeks, and she let out a long held sigh.

"Of course, my dear. Just as long as you don't come until I decide you're ready," Mr. Foxgloves mumbled from his position buried between her ass cheeks.

"It's not too much for you, is it, Foxy?" she said. Her question was met with another spank, this time even harder. She rubbed herself faster, the light sting mingling with the hot sensitivity of her engorged clit. The algorithm was too good sometimes, a little spank was exactly what she'd needed.

"Judging by the jiggle I just felt, I'd say it's just right for me," Mr. Foxgloves said. He paused for a moment, then said in a low whisper. "Get ready."

He pressed his snout against her entrance. He opened his mouth and his tongue slithered out. She was coated in enough lube and her own juices that he could start to truly enter her with minimal resistance.

"Fuck, yeah, do it Mr. Foxgloves. Tongue fuck that asshole," Kelly half-moaned. Mr. Foxgloves could extend his tongue almost six inches, more than enough to explore the deepest reaches she was comfortable with. The perfect stretch she wanted to feel wasn't quite there, it was off by mere millimeters, but she was working on it. A couple of upgrades were bound in the mail any day now.

Still, the heat and the vibrations from his tongue were more than enough to turn her into a pile of jelly. She could barely rub her clit fast enough, and her hips were standing to move on their own, swaying back and forth onto Mr. Foxgloves' extended tongue.

"That's right, bounce that fat ass on this tongue," she heard Mr. Foxgloves try to say through a mouthful of asshole.

"Fuck..." she gasped, she could finally feel it, the sensation of her climax was bubbling up from the darkness. Her other hand reached up to grab her breast and desperately pinch at her stiff nipple.

"Foxy, Foxy, fuck, Foxy, please, let me come! Your butt slut wants to come!" she screamed. Every mention of his name was met with a firm spank in quick sequence, each one making her squeal, but his tongue didn't stop.

When at last, perhaps sensing the imminent convulsion of her muscles, he pressed himself as deep into her as he could, the orgasm smashed into her. She pushed back, slamming Mr. Foxgloves into the edge of the couch and crying out as her muscles flexed in the rapturous feeling of release.

It wasn't a quick orgasm, it was an earthquake, full of aftershocks. The combined feeling of her ass and clit being stimulated so intensely and for so long had left her a gasping mess, drool running down the side of her mouth, the spot on the couch where she'd been bent over a damp and stinking mess. The pleasure also left her body slowly, and she massaged her pussy for another minute after the final orgasmic spasm had finished, her body utterly spent by the exertion.

The apartment was dead silent save for her heavy breathing. Then, she sneezed.

"Miss Kelly, I told you that you would catch a cold. Now, please, get off me this instant, I'll fetch you a lozenge and prepare you a cup of lemon tea," Mr. Foxgloves said, from under her ass. She jumped up, suddenly realizing that she'd crushed him in the wild throes of passion.

"Oh, shit! Foxy, are you okay?"

"Quite alright, miss," Mr. Foxgloves said, jumping to his feet and springing to action. He dashed into the kitchen and came back a moment later with pills in hand. The electric kettle was steaming in seconds, and before she could say anything else, he threw a blanket over her shoulders.

"There, miss. We really can't have you getting sick. You have a busy week coming up," he said, chipper and perky, with none of the hint of the dominant personality he'd embodied just a few minutes earlier.

It made Kelly smile a bittersweet smile. Even if he wasn't really alive, wasn't truly sentient, it was nice to have a sex toy who made sure you got some aftercare.

When the tea was ready, Mr. Foxgloves set it down in front of her and set next to her. He pressed his paw against her chest and nodded after a moment.

"Your internal temperature is slightly high, but nothing worrisome. A good night's sleep and a hearty breakfast and you should be able to recover by Monday. I'll place an order from a cafe tomorrow morning around your usual wake up time," he said.

"Thanks, Foxy," Kelly said, watching the steam rise from the tea. "Hey, Foxy?"

"Yes, Miss Kelly?"

"Would it be bad if I skipped the tea and asked you to cuddle me to sleep?"

"With my heating unit on?"

"That'd feel nice."

"Of course, Miss," Mr. Foxgloves said. He held out his arms and Kelly picked him up. He was surprisingly heavy, giving his relatively small size, but she could already feel warmth radiating from his inner core. She ambled over to her bedroom, flopped onto the bed, and wrapped her arms around Mr. Foxgloves. She pulled the covers tight over them, and listened to the sound of the rain.

"Thank you, for tonight," she whispered.

"It was nothing, Miss. You know I exist to serve you," he said. She nodded and scratched him behind his ears. Her eyes felt heavy, and the mild perfumed scent of Mr. Foxgloves' fur began to lull her to sleep.

"Good night, Foxy," she whispered.

"Good night, Miss Kelly," Mr. Foxgloves whispered back. Kelly's eyes slid shut, and when Mr. Foxgloves was sure she was sleeping by her gentle snore, he, too, put himself into sleep mode.