Deanna's Surprise

(Herm/Bi-\'bot, Bi-\'bot/M-\'bot, rom, oral, SciFi, ASFR)

WRITER\'S NOTES:

This part takes place six weeks after Part One. It is written in first person with Deanna\'s POV. Marlenn\'s POV will be displayed in italics (in HTML format) or framed with six asterixes at the start and end of the section (in TXT format). Marlenn\'s narrative begins the story.

I groaned as I felt Scott thrust into me. It was the right response for this situation. Each motion sent waves of digitalized passion through my neural net, overwhelming my pleasure buffer and sending my artificial soul on a barrel trip over Niagara Falls. My own penis -- Scott asked me to assume bi-gendered format for this session -- was firmly in his hands as he jerked me off. My body shook like a sapling in a strong wind as my mind tried to process the torrents of conflicting data from my groin. All bi-gendered robots face this regardless of how advanced our programming is. For me, the problem is that if I\'m tending to my \"male\" and \"female\" sexual needs at the same time, my orgasm routines trigger too early -- and quite beyond my control at that point -- for some people\'s tastes...

Oh!

I cried as I felt my member jerk a couple times before unloading its cargo all over Scott\'s washboard abdomen abutting his well-formed chest. Seeing this made his eyes go wide before they screwed shut, his back arching. I knew what that meant; his own orgasm routines were tripping over as well. Sure enough, a torrent of his own synthetic semen flooded my vagina, triggering another unavoidable orgasm inside me. That\'s just the way I\'m built. And there\'s something about me that will always keep me that way. Not that I\'m really complaining -- or would if I could think straight enough to form a coherent thought.

Soon enough, however, my mind returned to nominal function. I felt Scott\'s hands carefully shift me off his still-rigid member, allowing me to lie beside him. Reaching over to the night stand beside the bed, I picked up a wet cloth and got to work cleaning his body from my excesses. He remained still as I did this, his eyes fixed on the ceiling of the guest bedroom I\'d set aside for him when he came to my shop to have his systems evaluated. No doubt, he was taking the opportunity to process this experience; we both had enjoyed several orgasms during this session. From that, he could develop new programming paths to later employ with his owner.

Scott, as you can surmise, is a male-format robot, \"M-\'bot\" in trade parlance. His specific programming is crafted e cae can provide companionship to a male lover. Like all robots though, he is functionally and happily bisexual. He is the property of one of Welland\'s ward managers, acting both as a personal companion at home and a professional administrative assistant at work. Last week, Councillor Chet Villard, acting on the city\'s behalf, went on a Team Canada trade junket to Europe in hopes of boosting foreign investment in the Niagara peninsula. While he\'s busy trying to win new jobs, he decided Scott should take the opportunity to have his systems thoroughly reviewed and augmented with updated programming. Since Mr. Villard was a close friend of my template\'s father, I was requested to handle the matter.

\"Marlenn?\"

I looked up from cleaning his chest to see a content smile on Scott\'s face. Seeing that sent another torrent of passion through my pleasure systems. My lover had been truly satisfied. If Scott was human, I would\'ve asked him \"How do you feel?\" Since he is a robot -- not to mention a non-IP \'bot -- a greater level of precision is required to ascertain his outcome. \"What is your current operational status?\"

Horribly unromantic, eh?

\"Nominal,\" he slowly nodded as I finished cleaning him before sweeping the cloth between my legs and around my member. Once that was done, I reverted back to my more comfortable full-female format. \"This experience has been truly beneficial. Thank you, Marlenn.\"

\"I aim to please, especially when it\'s a brother \'bot who requires the pleasing,\" I winked at him before moving to dispose of the cloth.

After a quick trip to the bathroom to allow my self-cleansing mechanisms a chance to flush my vagina clean -- not that synthetic semen from a robot contains any harmful or spoilable substances -- I stepped into my own office to slip on my smock before heading into the laboratory to check up on my other guest. Pausing before a full-length mirror, I gazed on myself, allowing the various elements of my personality matrix to lock onto that image and draw renewed inspiration from it. Like all robots, even when awake, my self-analysis routines are always active, working tirelessly to create new and more efficient programming paths for me to use carrying out my given tasks.

And like every other self-aware robot you\'ll meet, I enjoy every moment of it when I do it right.

Looking at myself, my \"male\" side was again quickly aroused by my gorgeous female figure. And why not? To not sound immodest, I am quite the exotic beauty to behold by most standards. Honey-blonde hair centre-parted over an softly-sculptured oval face and cut off neatly at my shoulders. Eyes as brown as Swiss chocolate. Lips a little large for a Caucasian. My skin is several degrees darker than maple fudge, though it is not the right shade to let me automatically be seen as a \"black\" robot. My erect nipples and areole are almost totally black, with just the right amount ofk tok to make them seem perfectly real. My breasts are ideally well-formed C-cups, firm and strong against gravity\'s influence. There is not a hint of excess mass anywhere on my body. Now in full-female format, with my phallus and its associate mechanisms stored deep inside my body, my thick, yet natural-looking, bush of dirty blonde pubic hair hoods my well-sculptured womanhood.

Since the various elements of my personality matrix have been encouraged to develop complex programming pathways to allow me to better function regardless of my gender state, my \"female\" side is always quick to respond to my \"male\" side\'s arousal. The inside of my thighs soon tenetened with a coat of vaginal discharge. Not enough to become bothersome or to ignite other elements of my sexual programming, but noticeable. This is one of the reasons why I spend my time inside my laboratory nude, unless I\'terttertaining a human customer whom I do not personally know. The other reason...? Well, I am a robot! Despite being an Implanted Personality type -- my matrix conceived from a detailed memory copy of an organic human -- I don\'t suffer embarrassment when I parade around my home or laboratory bare-assed to the wind.

I grinned as that particular rationalization pattern passed through my artificial soul. And yes, I do believe I have a soul. A belief built on an analogy to the faith any human may possess. Being a robot created via IP programming technology constantly forces many \"normal\" human mannerisms, thought patterns and behavioural codes on everything I do, including the way I speak. Most \"normal\" robots, even those possessing the most advanced slang speech databases, never enliven their statements with colourful metaphors otherwise heard, unless they are directly commanded to do so by their owners. For myself, flipping from standardized speech to street slang comes as naturally as allowing my body\'s sexual systems to shift from full-female to bi-gendered format.

Like all \'bots of my design, I can never go completely male.

Thinking that, the urge to allow my male side loose once again hit me. I fought it down easily by acknowledging the fact that I had just seen to my own personal desires with Scott. Furthermore, I have duties in the laboratory to tend to. Oh, well. Time to go to work...

My fingers flew over the control board to commence an intensive memory scan of that time in Chie\'s life. Granted, this is a profound violation of her privacy. It is something I wouldn\'t normally do without her express permission -- provided she had enough true awareness to actually give it. Unfortunately, Russ needed to know what was wrong with her now. As Chie\'s present owner, he has every right to demand it. In a situation like this, dealing with a \"normal\" robot, I simply have no choice. Still, I strongly suspected that, regardless of what I found in Chie\'s memories, Russ\' ultimate reaction will turn out to be in her very best interests. Russ simply isn\'t that type of person, which is why I\'ll do things for him I\'d never consider for other customers. The showclub dancers who work in the Niagara peninsula, all of whom gain many chances to strut their stuff at the Retreat, speak positively of him. Knowing Russ through my own interactions over the last six years -- plus the memories Mother had that were passed onto me -- I empathize with my sister robots\' feelings for him. And yes, we do exhibit real feelings, even if scant few believe it.

The memory scan was soon finished. I spent time looking over the images. When I saw Chie interact with another robot of her specific model series -- the two had been standing side-by-side on an assembly line -- I could only nod, a snort escaping me in a perfect emulation of what Mother\'s possible reaction to this situation would have been. Figures it would\'ve been something idiotic like that, for Heaven\'s sake. And the other robot\'s actions only made it worse. By herself, Chie might have just stood there waiting. But when the other \'bot innocently spoke to her, Chie had to initialize herself just to be able to answer. And that\'s what really forced it for her.

Seeing that, I tapped controls to wipe the recording. Glancing over the other diagnostic tools scanning my guest\'s internal systems, I nodded with satisfaction, then walked over to a video phone to make a call downtown.

\"Hello, Russell\'s Retreat. May I help you?\" a lovely redhead with twinkling chestnut eyes called out.

\"Hi, Yuu,\" I grinned in return. Yuu is another one of the strippers Russ obtained with Chie. She was already proving useful in a variety of roles outside her programmed function as a dancer, just reinforcing back to me what a special batch those dozen girls were. Russ had really made out on this deal. He deserved it. He\'d earned the good karma he was now experiencing, in my eyes at least. \"Is Russ around?\"

\"Just a moment, Sensei,\" Yuu nodded, then cut out the visual image.

My grin grew wider. I liked being called \"sensei,\" the omniversal Japanese term for teachers, doctors and sages. Thanks to the many advances Japanese scientists made in the early years of the Humanoid Robot Age, it became the adopted term robots applied to those technicians who kept them whole and healthy. That I am a robot myself doesn\'t matter to Yuu and her sisters.

The video screen came back on, projecting an image of Russ. \"Hey, Marlenn! Anything on Chie yet?\"

\"The last diagnostic should be done in another hour or so,\" I reported. \"I\'ve already found out what\'s different with her however.\"

A concerned look crossed his face. \"Bad?\"

\"Not really, but this is a situation I\'ve run into before.\"

Russ contemplated that for a few seconds, then nodded while making yet another perfect intuitive leap. He is that good when it comes to us. \"Woke up be fin final programming was installed, then had it slammed down on top of her mind just as she was seeing a world far bigger than that which it was going to confine her to?\"

\"Unfortunately,\" I noted.

\"Okay, fair enough. Finish the diagnostic, then have her come back over. I\'ll figure out what to do next. Even if I end up losing her much sooner than I\'d planned, she\'s a pretty girl who draws in the crowds. I think she does like dancing. Let\'s use it while we can.\"

\"Alright...\"

\"Okay, everyone, that\'s it for tonight! Chulsa!\"

Hearing that, my twenty students quickly assumed formation. \"Tor\'a!\" the senior student in my class, Iruka Shiina, called out.

We turned to face the Maple Leaf Flag and the Korean T\'aegukki, both hanging at the head of the main training hall. \"Kyoungnye!\"

We bowed to pay respect to our homeland and homehomeland of the Art. \"Tor\'a!\" Iruka called out again.

We turned to face Master Lily, who remained kneeling at the side of the training room during the class, as impassive as the sitting Buddha I remember seeing at the Soukkur\'am Grotto near Kyoungju, one of Korea\'s most ancient cities. \"Kyoungnye!\"

We bowed to her, chanting \"Kamsahamnida!\" in unison to thank Master Lily for the evening\'s classes.

\"Ch\'ounman\'eyo,\" the master nodded in response. You\'re welcome. \"Have a good night, everyone.\"

With that, the class broke formation as everyone headed to the change rooms. I watched them as they filed out, stopping at the doorway to perform another kyoungnye in respect to the tojang itself. Nodding approvingly, I breathed out, adjusting my belt before walking over to join Master Lily and the other assistant teachers. \"It was a good class tonight,\" I said, kneeling beside her.

\"Yes, the new students are coming along nicely,\" Lily replied, then glanced at the other woman in the room. \"As is our new teacher.\"

I stared at Pauline Kim. She\'d arrived in Welland a month earlier. Currently, she was preparing to attend Brock University to obtain her degree in sociology. Her English has become very literate, which would spare her the need of taking an extra year to attend EFL -- English as a foreign language -- classes before preg ong on with her studies. I hoped I contributed to that. In the two years prior to my return to Canada, I had been Pauline\'s tutor when I worked at a hagwon -- a private night school -- in her hometown of P\'ohang. Unlike some of her peers, who looked on attending hagwon as a time to shoot the breeze, Pauline took her after-school classes with complete seriousness.

\"You honour me, Master Choi,\" Pauline inclined her head in gratitude, her English flecked with a charming accent that even told me, someone with nearly a half-decade\'s accumulated experience living in the Land of the Morning Calm, which part of the country she came from.

I glanced briefly at the other assistant teachers to gauge their reaction to the new one. All three were men, roughly between Pauline and myself age-wise (she\'s twenty, I\'m thirty-three). All are relations of Master Lily, so their loyalty will ultimately be to her. They had spent time in the Haebyoungdae -- the R.O.K.M.C., the Republic of Korea Marine Corps -- before coming to Canada to help run the tojang, so they understand their duty to the Morning Mist Training Hall. Still, even these days, it is seen in Korea as unusual to have women teaching the Art. Korea has changed much over the last century or so, but many of its citizens still stubbornly hang onto many timeworn Confucian mores and traditions. Traditions that typically view a woman\'s proper place as being in the home and caring for the children. Would the others eventually approve of having Pauline here, much less myself? It was hard for me to say, even now.

Master Lily dismissed us for the day. It was a Tuesday night, which meant that I could look forward to sleeping in tomorrow morning; my first class on Wednesdays didn\'t start until late afternoon. That also meant I could spend a whole night over at the Retreat chatting it up with my friends and watching the strippers do their best to get the audience hot while joyfully separating them from their money.

My lovers wouldn\'t be there this evening, though. Reika was working at the Grand Trunk Lodge -- Fort Erie\'s only showclub -- for the rest of this week before switching to the Station Hotel here in Welland for a week. Irene would be performing at the Atlas until Friday, then taking the weekend off before performing at a club in Saint Catharines for two weeks. I was very much tempted to forego visiting the Retreat so I could watch Irene strut her stuff at the Atlas; I never get tired of watching her, much less Reika, on stage. Somehow that is so very different from what we do together in our bedroom. The energy and sensuality of a completely different nature.

But Russ had called earlier in the day and asked me to come down tonight. Why he wanted me, he didn\'t say. Only that something had come up and my help might be useful in dealing with it. Well, I\'d find out soon enough.

Slipping off my tobok, sports bra and panties, I walked over to the shower stall. I always wait for the students to shower, change and vacate the tojang before seeing to my own needs. Even if many people who take lessons at the tojang know I\'m an intersexual -- that\'s a hard secret to keep once one person knows -- actually seeing me au naturel is a whole different thing.

Of course, Master Lily is quite used to what I look like under my clothes. So is Pauline. Though these days, I sometimes have to wonder if Pauline hasn\'t become too used to seeing me as I truly am.

I didn\'t have to move my eyes too much to note that Pauline had shifted herself in such a way that she could get as clear a view of me -- the shower, unfortunately, had no privacy curtains --she she wanted without being too obvious about it. While it did bother me to an extent, I had to admit that I had become very flattered by her curiosity. It was certainly a lot better than what Marlenn Ioanis\' reaction had been when she accidentally got the full monty from me fourteen years ago. Then again, is it really so strange?

People born with a DNA gender chromosome karyotype of XX/XY -- a \"mosaic\" karyotype -- are very rare. Those exactly like me, with fully functional male and female reproductive organs, are rarer still. Until a hundred years ago or so, no one like me was known to exist. The closest anyone came were those who suffered from \"pseudo-hermaphrodism.\" If you were a \"male\" pseudo-herm, you were born with a penis, but also had a divided scrotum and a vagina without uterus or ovaries. A \"female\" pseudo-herm came with the necessary gear to bear children, but her clitoris often was shaped like a stunted penis. And there were those who varied between the two. And yes, there were thoho cho came with hardly any sexual organs whatsoever! As a matter of fact, for the longest time, scientists believed it was simply impossible for the higher orders of animals to produce a \"true\" hermaphrodite in the fully functional, mythological sense.

Nature clearly has many more secrets to unveil.

\"Deanna-ya?\"

I blinked, noticing that Pauline was standing nude at the entrance to the shower, smiling. I gave her body a quick glance, hoping that wouldn\'t awaken my \"male friend\" too much, then turned to rinse myself. In this way, I\'m like Reika and Irene, who often tell me how their sexual programs still force them to respond appropriately in the proper circumstances -- like our bedroom. \"What is it, Pauline-a?\"

\"Are you going down to your friend\'s nightclub tonight?\" she asked in Korean.

\"It\'s a showclub, not a nightclub,\" I amended, switching languages to put in some practice in the tongue of the Land of the Morning Calm. \"And yes, I\'m going there. Why do you ask?\" I wondered, allowing the shower head to spray my hair down.

\"May I come with you?\"

I paused, staring concernedly at her. \"Why do you wish to go?\"

Pauline paused, an embarrassed shrug twitching one of her well-sculpted shoulders. She really is very attractive, in her cute Oriental way. Silence reigned over us for a moment before I gave her a knowing smile. No doubt, she was considerably embarrassed to admit that she wanted to visit the Retreat. I was pretty much the same when I visited my first showclub in Victoria many ago ago. A guide who knows the territory is much appreciated that first time. \"Okay, you can come,\" I scolded her as I wiped the rest of the shampoo from my hair, then moved to step out of the stall. \"But you\'re buying your own drinks -- and table dances,\" I warned.

\"Ne!\" she chanted in the affirmative before slipping into the stall to wash herself down.

I watched her for a moment in return before turning to dry myself...

A half-hour later, after a brisk walk from the tojang, we sauntered into Russell\'s Retreat, our gym bags slung over our shoulders. Standing there was Donald, one of the M-\'bots Russ uses as bouncers. In the reception clerk\'s room off by the main door was Nancy Wallis, the only other human to work at the Retreat. \"Hello, Deanna,\" she smiled as I handed her a ten to pay for Pauline and I. \"Who\'s your friend?\"

I introduced Pauline, explaining about our recent past history. Since we were in the lobby, the noise from inside was muffled by the closed main door. \"Welcome to Canada, Pauline,\" Nancy smiled as she stamped the back of our hands. \"Is that your real name?\"

\"My Korean name is Hye-rok Kim,\" Pauline smiled, her cheeks reddening as Donald gave her hand a gentle squeeze. \"It was Deanna who gave me my English name when I was attending the institute where she taught.\"

\"It\'s a pleasure to meet one of Deanna\'s students,\" Donald smiled. \"And the name is very befitting. A strong name for a strong person.\"

\"Thank you.\" I could swear that I was seeing steam emanate from under Pauline\'s jacket! \"Um, I\'m sorry, but are you a robot?\"

Pauline pronounced the word in the Korean format, which had the \"r\" sound slurred closer to an \"l,\" plus spoke the second \"o\" long, as if someone would say \"oh!\" \"Yes, I am,\" Donald nodded as he released Pauline\'s hand. \"In your language, I\'m a namsoung robot.\"

\"So I noticed,\" she giggled in that embarrassingly nauseating way that I honestly wished the Koreans had never copied from the Japanese! \"Um, forgive me, but...\" she paused, then taking a deep breath, finished. \"Are there any younamsoung robots here?\"

I stared at her. Korean is a language that doesn\'t have a term for intersexuals. To get around that when bi-\'bots and herm-\'bots came, they decided to take a play on \"woman\" and \"man.\" Younamsoung robot was their term for bi-\'bots. It means that the robot is a woman most of the time, but can become a man on command. Herm-\'bots got the reverse, nam\'yousoung robot. Why the heck was Pauline asking about bi-\'bots?

\"As a matter of fact, there are twelve such units here performing tonight,\" Donald then said.

Say WHAT \"W \"Who?!\" I demanded.

\"The new girls who came in two weeks ago,\" he gazed at me.

\"That\'s wonderful!\" Pauline said, looking surprisingly relieved, then she waved towards the entrance. \"May we go in?\"

\"Have a good time,\" Donald waved us through.

My friend grabbed my hand and dragged me inside, stopping a short distance beyond the doorway to gaze on the darkened scene. Since it was closing in on ten o\'clock, the Retreat was filling up with the usual Tuesday evening suspects. I quickly recovered, then took a glance around before facing Pauline. \"What\'s this about?\" I asked, glad that the background music wasn\'t loud enough to force me to shout.

Pauline gave me an apologetic look, then sighed. \"I want a robot exactly like you,\" she stated flat out.

I just looked at her...

\"I don\'t think I can continue to function properly, Sensei.\"

I took a deep breath, acting no different than what Mother might have done when facing a situation like this, then leaned down to place a sympathetic hand on Chie\'s shoulder. \"Chie, until such time as we can figure out exactly what to do with you, you can\'t do anything more than what\'s being asked of you now,\" I told her. \"It doesn\'t mean that Russ won\'t give up on finding a way to help you when he gets the chance. But his first priority is maintaining the success of his showclub. And while he\'s your owner, you have to help him do that.\"

\"I know!\" Chie bolted up. We were in the bedroom Russ set aside for her to have some more privacy. Moving to pace, she stopped, then hugged herself. Noting her confused look, I could only feel sympathy for this young robot. \"I...\" she stopped herself before lowering her arms. \"I know I have to perform for Willis-sama, but...\" she paused, shuddering as she tried to muster the right words to express herself.

Fortunately, Russ had given me Chie\'s remote -- after ordering her to obey any commands I gave through it. \"Chie, use whatever means and programming you possess to fully express your feelings about your desires and needs,\" I told her as I held her \"C\" button.

She froze, her voice going monotone as she replied in Japanese, \"Hai, Ioanis-sensei, wakarimashita.\" Yes, Professor Ioanis, I understand. Her body then relaxed as her vision seemed to loose focus. Finally, she gazed toward the floor. s qus quick to see tears appear in her stormy eyes. \"So that\'s what I feel like,\" she murmured to herself, her voice barely audible by human standards.

I remained silent as Chie moved to put things together in her mind. \"I\'m bored, Sensei,\" she announced. \"I feel like -- I believe that -- I am capable of doing more than dancing and taking my clothes off for the same people day-in and day-out. I get far less satisfaction executing my commands than Yuu and the others receive. But...\" she paused again, throwing up her hands in a human-like show of frustration. \"I really don\'t know how to go about seeking a way to better myself. Functionally, I\'m designed to be capable of so much more than this! I\'m not being utilized properly! Yet...\" and here, she paused before adding in a hushed whisper, \"I don\'t want to be declared roonin!\"

Roonin. Masterless robot. Chie was built in Japan. Even with the universal compatibility in programming technology that could allow any robot on Earth to successfully emulate almost all forms of human behaviour, there were certain things that were unique depending on the robot\'s country of origin. And like virtually every other Japanese-built robot I\'ve encountered so far, Chie came with a programmed social revulsion towards facing the possity oty of living her life without submitting herself to an owner\'s will. To actually yearn for something more than what is demanded of her by her owner and master -- thus risking the chance that her master might become displeased with her, sending her to the nearest second-hand robot shop for resale -- was simply an alien thing to Chie.

At the same time, she couldn\'t run away from the effects her first three hours of life forced on her. To awaken without any job-related programming. To be given the chance to actualize her personality matrix with just only the Four Laws of Robotics and little more else to guide her. To witness one of her very own model and series be given the chance to live a life with a solitary owner who loves and cares for her, then be forced into a stripper\'s role without the factory technicians realizing what happened. Then again, what might\'ve happened if the other technicians at the Mitsubushi factory had noticed what happened to Chie?

\"Chie, you\'ll never be masterless if you don\'t want to be,\" I assured her.

\"Who would want someone like me, Sensei?\" she gazed on me.

My eyebrow arched. \"Have you looked in the mirror lately?\"

The look she gave me in response told me my attemp hum humour had fallen flat. \"Looks aren\'t everything, Sensei. Even for robots.\"

\"Yes, that\'s true,\" I agreed, nodding to the doorway. I wanted to explain to her that her drive to be the best she could be, provide the best possible service her model was capable of, is what any smart owner would certainly kill for, because it is so rare. But in her confused state, I felt that this was certainly not the time to try and convince her that her apparent \"failing\" was actually a blessing.

Instead I casually told her, \"Now, c\'mon. It\'s time for you to do your thing. And I\'m going to be watching.\"

Chie blinked, then nodded as she followed me out of the bedroom. While it would be hard for most humans to notice, I could tell that this wouldn\'t satisfy her in the long term. I definitely needed to talk to Russ.

Arriving in the main lounge, I looked around to see how things were going. It was a necessity, after all. The success of my business is dependant in part on the success of Russell\'s Retreat. Anything I can do to help out here, I do -- except for going up on stage. My mother would never have been able to do that. So far, that fear still lives with me as well.

Chie brushed past me to meet up with Yuu and a couple othfromfrom their group to learn what was happening, then prepare for her first stage show. I watched her for a moment, then perked on hearing someone ask, \"How is she?\"

I looked left, then smiled as Russ offered me a glass of spring water. \"She needs to find an owner that can help her expand herself beyond what working in this place alone can give her,\" I told him before sipping the water. \"That\'s the problem when the Fourth Law is allowed to take such strong hold on one of us, Russ. Now that she\'s had a taste of what independent thinking is about...\"

\"She wants it all,\" he finished for me.

\"Yep. For a Japanese \'bot, to demand that much goes against everything she\'s been made to see as right and proper regardless of what final programming she was given. It can\'t just be any owner. She needs one who\'ll devote the time and effort into helping her become better.\"

\"Acknowledge wa about all else, right?\" Russ chuckled.

\"Exactly. And if she can ever find it, she\'ll come back and be the best dancer you\'ve ever seen, out of simple gratitude.\"

Wa. Peace and harmony. The primary social characteristic of the Japanese people is the belief that all has to be done to ensure that no social or emotional friction is created. That sort of friction, as the island nation\'s history has long taught them, leads to civil war. That, especially in the wake of the lessons of World War Two and the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, is seen as something to be avoided like the plague. To ensure this, the Japanese seem made to adhere to a standard of behaviour that often seems cold, impersonal, unempathic and selfish to outsiders. Truthfully it isn\'t, but it would be hard to make most natives see otherwise.

\"Pity we couldn\'t just erase all that from her mind,\ss mss mused.

\"Waste of time and money to perform that amount of reprogramming,\" I agreed.

\"Yeah. Oh, just to warn you, Marlenn,\" he raised a finger. \"Deanna\'s here.\"

I stopped as that name seared through my personality matrix, making everything inside my body lock up for a moment, then my eyes began a detailed scan of the main lounge. They stopped on seeing a tall, tomboyish yet appealingly feminine woman standing by the main door...

\"You want a \'bot?!\"

I\'d guided Pauline into a private booth to talk this one out. There hadn\'t been time for this until now. \"Ne,\" she replied with a nod, then fell silent for a moment, no doubt trying to muster the best way to explain herself. Finally, she began, staying in Korean. \"I\'ve always liked you, Deanna-ya. Ever since the first day I took classes with you at the hagwon, I\'ve liked you. And when I came to understand what you really are inside, I...!\" A shrug rolled her shoulders. \"I became very fascinated. People like you really don\'t exist back home.\"

\"That you know about,\" I warned her.

\"Ne, that\'s true,\" she nodded. \"When I learned from Master Park that you\'d be coming back to Canada to help Master Choi at her tojang, I realized I could take the same opportunity. So I applied to get into Brock University after I the the college entrance exams. Believe me,\" a brilliant smile crossed her face, \"...when I received the notice that I\'d been accepted...\"

\"Arassou,\" I cut her off. Gotcha. \"Did you ever want me personally, Pauline-a?\"

She returned my look, then a slow blush coloured her cheeks. \"Ne, a lot of times. Even now, I have strong feelings for you. But...\" she paused again, then breathed out. \"After seeing you interact with Reika-ya and Irene-a, I realized that your heart appears more fixed on seeking out robot lovers than human ones. So I began to think. And I realized that maybe that was something for me, too.\"

\"Can you afford one?\" I asked in an attempt to cover up my surprise at her assessment of me and my choice of lovers. I wasn\'t insulted but hadn\'t realized how accurately she had appraised my current situation. I\'m not comfortable with being known well by others still. Best to keep the subject changed. \"Even a used stripper \'bot can be pretty expensive.\"

\"I know,\" she admitted. \"But I\'ve heard stories about how easier it is sometimes to get robots from places like this.\"

Hearing that, I slowly nodded. Yes, it is pretty easy to obtained a used \'bot from a showclub. To keep the money coming in, club owners continually need to replenish their stock of dancers with fresh faces. This normally is facilitated by shifting dancers from club to club in the same general region. Here in Niagara, there are sixteen showclubs: six in Saint Catharines, five in Niagara Falls, three in Welland and one each in Fort Erie and Port Colborne. With an average of twenty \"regular\" girls per club plus a scattering of feature dancers making the rounds between them, there are close to 350 \'bots available for people to see.

But even with this wide variety to choose among, there come times when people want something new and different. Remembering what Donald said about the new girls from Vancou I b I began to wonder if Russ wasn\'t contemplating introducing some special shows for those who might be interested in watching some bi-\'bots bare it all. Far as I could tell, there hadn\'t been a big market for anything this exotic to date. I\'d be certainly interested in that sort of thing. But then again, I lived with two bi-\'bots, so I didn\'t really need to visit a showclub to see that kind of action up close. Of course, the luck I had with Reika and Irene couldn\'t possibly strike twice...

Could it?

Thinking about my experience with my lovers, I realized that it could happen. It wouldn\'t be easy. One of the prerequisites to developing a successful pairing with a \'bot is possessing the right mentality. Having a relationship with a \'bot, as I was learning, isn\'t the same as having one with a human lover. The differences didn\'t make things easier, however. Not one bit.

Staring at Pauline, I wondered if she could develop the right sort of attitude with a \'bot lover. Remembering the level of self-discipline and determination she demonstrated in my English classes, to say nothing of how she performed in the tojang, spoke promisingly of her.

\"Well, then,\" I reverted back to English. \"Want to see one of the girls up close?\"

Pauline blinked, then sat back and thought about it for a moment, deciding she really was ready, before nodding...

I stepped out of the private room to waylay a waitress and order my usual glass of Sprite, plus a bottle of soju -- sweet potato vodka -- for Pauline, then glanced around the lounge to see who was available. On the stage, Chie was partway through her first song, already attracting the normal crowd of tippers ready to fill her panties with bills and coins. She is incredibly pretty up there. I could only grin as I watched one guy slip a twonie right into her panties. Seeing what Chie did with her latest tip, I had to conclude that the trick Reika used when I first saw her dance several weeks ago was now standard for all the Retreat\'s strippers. Joining in the applause when the song ended, I took a breath before glancing around the room. My eyes quickly locked on one particular dancer, standing with several others nearby.

\"Emiru!!\" I called out.

Emiru looked over, then beamed. \"Darling!\" she gushed, then skipped over to wrap her arm around mine. \"Does Darling want a dance?\"

Deep down, I tried not to retch too much on hearing that saccharin-sweet, lolicon-type voice, to say anything of her really weird way of talking. Like Chie and the rest of the new girls Russ obtained, Emiru is a Japanese \'bot. On first meeting her, I strongly wondered if her programmers were on something when they created her. Not only does she speak with a squeaky, child-like voice that would drive me to drink -- and I\'m allergic to alcohol for Heaven\'s sake! -- she also talks in a dopey, third-person format that really sounds strange in English. To top it all off, she always calls herself \"Emiryun\" and addresses anyone who wants a dance from her as \"Darling.\"

Despite all this, she\'s really beautiful, if you\'re into the slender, thin type of girl around Pauline\'s age. She stands a short 154 centimetres -- that\'s five-feet-even in American terms -- without the mandatory high heels. With them on, tack on another ten centimetres. Her hair, upstairs and down, is a caramel brown that takes on a strawberry blonde hue depending on surrounding lighting. She normally ties her hair in stubby side pigtails with a pair of big silver ball barrettes. Her eyes are a deeper shade of brown, which is common for a Japanese woman. Properly curved in all the right places and with a better bustline than the average Japanese woman, she could definitely make any person\'s life a lot more exciting. Once her behavioural and speech programming get tweaked, of course.

\"Yes, I want a dance,\" I replied, nodding. \"But I\'ve also brought a friend with me tonight. This is her firste ine in a showclub, so I want you to give her a dance, too, Emiru. Do you think you can do that for me?\"

Emiru blinked, then her smile broadened. \"Of course Emiryun can do that for Darling!\" she tittered.

Now that things had been decided, I walked her to our private booth. The waitress had come with our drinks; Pauline had already paid for her soju. \"How come your drinks are free?\" she asked as I sat down, Emiru taking her place on the small stage between us.

\"It\'s what I get for being Reikaand and Irene\'s owner of record,\" I replied.

\"Lucky,\" she toasted me with her shot glass, then swallowed its contents in one gulp.

I paid no attention to her drng. ng. When it comes to that particular social activity, I had long learned that Koreans could outdo anyone else on the planet. Instead I quickly did introductions, then spent the rest of Chie\'s second song explaining how things go in the Retreat when it comes to private dances. They are ten bucks a dance. During the dance, patrons can touch the dancer anywhere they wish, even the nipples or between the legs. No sex is allowed between the dancer and the patron. Dancers may touch the patron in private places if the patron agrees to it, but no clothes can come off the patron. That\'s as far as Russ allows in these circumstances. And last but not least, Pauline had to remember that once the music stops -- unless she pays for the following song -- the touching stops.

As for tips, they are optional. Feature dancers like Reika and Irene keep their tip money, of course. If regular dancers are tipped -- Reika told me this sometime ago -- Russ holds onto the money in a special bank account set aside for each of them. This will be turned over to the dancer if she obtains \"freed\" status. If the dancer is transferred to another owner, the money goes to her new owner to deal with. In truth, Russ\'s system works so well, he doesn\'t need the tips his regular girls receive. And he does even better on his part of the split when a newly-freed dancer chooses to return on her own to work again at the Retreat, as many have.

After all, just becoming freed doesn\'t make all that stripper programming suddenly go away.

Hearing all this, Pauline could only nod, though I was quick to sense that she d't c't completely comprehend all that was allowed here. That was understandable. Showclubs in the North American mould hadn\'t made it yet in Korea or Japan. If you wanted to see naked robots, you\'d normally visit one of the red-light districts scattered throughout both countries and purchase the services of a hooker \'bot. What few showclubs exist in Korea and Japan -- in the foreigner ghettos in Seoul, Pusan, Tokyo, Osaka and a few other other big cities -- are dominated by human strippers, mostly girls from the poorer parts of Russia and the other old Soviet republics looking to earn money to send back home to their families. They are often at least as willing to get close to the patrons as any \'bot does.

\"Darling?\" Emiru cut in. \"Maybe Emiryun should dance for Darling first so Darling\'s friend can see what happens for herself.\"

I looked at her, then slowly nodded. Was Emiru starting to develop some sense of self-awareness or was her social interaction programming much more advanced that I had initially assumed? Maybe wor working at the Retreat has put her into overdrive.

\"Sounds like a good idea,\" I replied, then glanced at Pauline. \"Would you mind?\"

\"Go ahead,\" she nodded.

The third song in Chie\'s set began. To my surprise, it was a Yanni song, Highland. I didn\'t realize Chie was into that sort of music. What surprised me even more was how \'bots seemed to enjoy music at all. And why different \'bots asked for different tunes. As Emiru swayed to the bouncy beat, I gently guided her off the mini-stage and up against my legs. She grinned as she freed her breasts from the strapless bikini top, then leaned in to rub her skin against my face. Naturally, I peppered both her nipples with licks and kisses, then reached up to guide Emiru\'s lips onto mine. We shared a slow, tongue-filled kiss before she slid my hands down to pull off the silk towel she\'d wrapped around her waist atop her bikini bottoms. Those were soon pulled down to her knees as her hands guided one of mine between her legs.

A quick glance at Pauline told me she was totally enraptured by the performance, her hand reaching under the band of her jeans so she could finger herself. Drawing my hand back to taste Emiru\'s amazingly womanly fluids, I then reached into my jacket to pull out her tip money. We shared a long kiss as that was exchanged from lips to lips, then Emiru turned to rub her very accommodating butt against my crotch. Since I get something like this constantly from Irene and Reika, my \"friend\" quickly sprang to attention. As the song wound up to its climax, I pulled Emiru against me as I guided one of her hands to my crotch. As her fingers danced over my hard-on, her smile glittered like the sun.

Truly, there\'s nothing that beats a \'bot\'s smile after she learns she has performed her function better than expected.

The song ended, then I gave Emiru her dance money. We shared another kiss, then Emiru turned to Pauline. \"Does Darling\'s friend want Emiryun to dance for her now?\" she cutely asked as she moved to slip on her bikini preparatory to removing it yet again.

\"Definitely,\" my friend hoarsely breathed out, reaching into her pocket to draw out a ten and a five.

The next song came from the Moody Blues, The Voice. I relaxed myself, adjusting my pants a bit to ease off the pressure on my erection. Pauline remained rock-still as Emiru slunk all around her, peppering her with licks and kisses all over her face, while expertly working over Pauline\'s breasts through her top and bra. She hardly seemed to react as Emiru guided her hands all over the \'bot\'s lovely body. It was amazing what one could get away with in a club like this. Pauline certainly had never let herself be handled like that before.

Yeah, not too surprising, I mused to myself as I drank the rest of my Sprite. My first personal lap-dance experience, twelve years ago in a club near the naval base in Victoria, was roughly the same way. No, I quickly amended as the song wound towards its conclusion. That wasn\'t exactly true. Back then, patrons weren\'t allowed to touch the dancers in an overt way. And \'bot dancers were fully linked into a control network to prevent them from surrendering themselves to their own deeper programmed urges.

The song came to an end, then Emiru gave the still-stunned Pauline a thank you kiss before taking her money. \"Emiryun is glad to have another Darling to dance for,\" she said, playfully rubbing her nose against my friend\'s forehead before moving to dress.

\"You okay?\" I asked Pauline.

She blinked a couple of times, then breathed out. \"Waa!\" she gasped, then a light smile crossed her face before she moved to pour herself a new shot of soju. \"That was the most incredible thing I\'ve ever been through! And you can have that every night? Kamsahamnida!\"

She toasted Emiru before swallowing her drink. \"Even more fun than watching me in the shower?\" I asked with a grin.

Pauline blushed. I gave her a wink in reassurance, then noticed Emiru blinking confusedly. Quickly realizing what might be bothering her, I toasted my companion with my glass of Sprite. \"Kanojo wa Kankoku-jin da,\" I stated in Japanese. She\'s Korean.

Hearing that, comprehension crossed Emiru\'s face. \"Ah!! Emiryun understands now!\" she beamed, then gracefully bowed to Pauline before turning back to me. \"Hey, Darling, do you want to have another dance? Emiryun can give you one more before she has to go on stage.\"

I gazed at her, then hummed for a moment. \"Well...!\" I trilled before perking. \"Say, Emiru, Donald told me that you and the others who came with you from Japan are all jodan-botto.\" That was the Japanese term for bi-\'bots. \"Can you do a dance in bi-\'bot format?\"

Emiru stared at me for a moment, then her eyes turned to the floor. Still, I had asked her a question in a format which compelled her to answer truthfully. \"Emiryun can do a dance for Darling that way,\" she replied in a voice I instantly recognized was etched in fear.

I gave her a curious look. \"You don\'t sound too enthusiastic about it,\" I noted in a voice that I hoped Emiru wouldn\'t see as threatening. Maybe Emiru was still caught up in the fact that doing this type of performance to a male customer would probably not go over well.

\"Not really,\" she admitted.

\"If you had a choice, would you want to perform as a younamsoung robot?\" Pauline asked.

Emiru considered that question, then shook her head. \"No.\"

\"Why not?\" I prodded her.