Teaser - Restock Fee

[Cecilauthor]

Below is an excerpt from my new femmebot erotica e-novel, The Pygmalion Archives: vol. 1


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"Gentlemennnnnn!"Boomed the spokes-voice. "This month is Import month at your friendly neighborhood Pygmalion dealer! Fresh, new... from the most sophisticated laboratories to your bedroom! We present for your consideration: The Odalisque 0.7!" The voice nearly shouted.

The women had complexions like bronze polished with olive oil. They were clad in a fluttering array of gauzy, multicolored veils that undulated like the Northern Auroras between sleekly-muscled thighs. Middle-Eastern love-slave vibe down pat.

"The Odalisque of history was a concubine of Ottoman Sultans schooled from a young age in the physical arts of male pleasure. Add her to your harem today! Financing available!" As a student of history; Jackson was skeptical, but accuracy wasn't what mattered here.

There was another pedestal near the stage, this one with a pair of odd glasses. Curious, Jackson examined them. They were equipped with a double lens; one that let in normal light; but with a smaller, bluish lens attached to the lower half.

He was unprepared for what happened upon donning them; they functioned almost as X-ray lenses. The normal periphery was unremarkable, but when looking through the blue lenses, he could see... machinery?

Yes, the love-slave women on stage; when the blue lens passed over them, Jackson could see iridescent bundles of contracting cables moving their limbs, some form of translucent gel underlying their skin, and various cables and conduits for both fluid, and faint pulses of energy.

In the place were a normal person would have a liver was an arrangement of pistons like a hyper-miniaturized version of an internal combustion engine. Cables linked techno-organ bundles inside of which were flickering digits of mechanized artifice.

There was something much like a heart and lungs in the chest, apparently controlled by some arcane arrangement of rapidly shunting valves. The head of course, glittered in the distinctive pattern of photonic-pulse circuitry that was in a lot of devices nowadays but... while Jackson wasn't any kind of engineer - he noticed something that piqued his curiosity: Yes, the brain had lots of very dense circuits, of course but - so did the pelvis. Inside the robot-girls' hips. It was like a second A.I., a sexual intelligence? Talk about thinking with the wrong head. He swiveled; much the same arrangement inside the Chocolate Thunders as the Odalisque's, but the Mandroids had far more contractile structures. Well, back to the girls. He took off the glasses and replaced them on the stand. Not an engineer, no - but he appreciated, admired ingenious construction. Probably the closest man had come to making living works of art.

The four concubines slithered across the stage, veils coming alive. Each hip-thrust, pirouette, and leap was choreographed to cause their filmy garments to seemingly hug their bodies like the caress of a sparkled lover.

Jackson had heard that female units sold much better than males; perhaps that's why there were twice as many on stage as the Chocolate Thunders. The dance of the Odalisque's was not only across the stage, but also through the spectrum. As Jackson was drawn inexorably closer, he became convinced that the jet-black hair trailing behind the dancers was actually lightening. For two of them.

But, for the other pair - Jackson did a double take as one nimble unit slid between the legs of her sister, he was sure her skin was lightening! Color and movement blended into a dizzying arsenal of stimuli that left him mesmerized. There was some music playing; just as there had been for the Chocolate Thunders; but it didn't even register with Jackson's conscious mind, drawn inexorably closer to the spectacle.

Aware of their audience, they also oiled themselves. Smooth skin seemed to slicken slowly, but thoroughly. Until - as Jackson neared, all the dancers glistened with shimmering reflections of liquid light. Self-lubricating skin. Wow. Not skin - Dermanext, he reminded himself.

At the end of the astonishing journey, two of the girls sported creamy pale skin as pristine as Alpine snow, but with hair the color of Midnight. Yet their sisters became as black as African ebony glazed with dark chocolate, yet with sunny hair of gilded flax.

Jackson found himself gripping the edge of the stage, the Odalisque's having adapted their dance to center around their observers. On either side of Jackson were the interlaced legs of a black-blonde and white-brunette pair, entwined like lovers - yet their eyes communicated that a male intrusion would be most welcome. They even had the manners to pant with simulated exhaustion after their vigorous exertions.

"What the hell," purred a hairy man with an Australian accent. "I've been wantin' to get Missy a playmate. Travel a lot fer business. Can't always bring her. Give her some company."

"J-jealous?" Jackson squeaked, as the two Odalisque's began caressing his face with feather-light touches of seduction.

"Do you WANT me to be jealous?" The white-brunette challenged, as she licked her black-blonde partner on the cheek. The latter hooked her muscular leg around Jackson's shoulders to pull him in deeper. Oh God... the smell! It was as if they were sweating strawberries. Slowly, the Odalisque's began fading back to their Middle-eastern default complexions, but Jackson was boiling from within as they cooled down. Adding more fuel to the fire, the paler girl spread her legs, pushing her loin-cloth clad groin against Jackson's face. She... she wanted him to smell her sex! It was so primal; so pulse-pounding.

With a groan of yearning, Jackson buried his nose and face into the sculpted paradise of her inner thighs and willing sex. He was wrong before. Her cunt smelled of strawberries mingled with honeysuckle. Unable to stop himself, he began to inhale her floral musk in gulping gasps, her legs encircling his head as she made an animalistic purr that brought up the beast within him. Lightning bolts shot from his spine to his crotch, as his pants seemed to shrink several sizes.

Gentle fingers brushed his sandy hair as she humped her groin against his face. Her fruity musk made him breathe deeper. Deeper. Harder. He seized her well-oiled buttocks...



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Continued in "Fembot Erotica: The Pygmalion Archives, Vol.1 !

[wjbaines]

What a beautiful phrase...

"...two of the girls sported creamy pale skin as pristine as Alpine snow, but with hair the color of Midnight. Yet their sisters became as black as African ebony glazed with dark chocolate, yet with sunny hair of gilded flax."

Nice writing. Thank you.

[Cecilauthor]

Much more where that came from in the book.