Tyson's Talents
Many in the huge crowd were practically salivating over the young girls in bikinis parading around the stage. How many men, and women, wanted a girl for the primary purpose of being their sex slave? Warren Davis waited anxiously for the boys who would appear next. He was looking for a freethinking son who would also be his best friend and lover. Though live auctions were popular, this spectacle was only a demonstration. After the show, models were available at a set price; usually well above auction prices. These were the newest and best-equipped models.
Finally the boys made their entrance. There were only two dozen of them, compared to the hundreds of girls that had already been introduced. The boys, aged ten to eighteen, wore only tight spandex and a number pinned to their hips. They were smiling and not afraid. They came in all colors and all were very fit.
Warren moved close to the runway. There was now plenty of space as the majority of the men had gone backstage to meet the girls. A cute blond ten year-old walked right in front of him and grinned. Warren wanted to touch him. He restrained himself. He was here to make an objective decision. A handsome fifteen year-old approached. The big bulge defining his cock was obviously meant to be a selling point. One by one they passed, each connecting with several very interested clients. Several gave most of their attention to the women in the audience, but they knew that the majority of the buyers would be men, and they were anxious to be free of the warehouse and begin their lives. Warren would have loved to buy a brown-skinned boy, but that would bring too much risk. He needed a fair-skinned boy that could pass as his son and travel with him on forged documents. He had spent years deliberating whether it was ethical to buy one of these models and illegally take him out of the country. He saw no other way. He wanted the boy to be entitled to full rights and let him think for himself. They were capable of that.
"B23", the tag read, was the last boy in line. His lithe body moved fluidly with a hint of boyish unruliness. His golden-brown hair was longer than most, and his skin a very light tan. He had brown eyes and sweet lips. His chest was that of a twelve year-old perfectly sculpted down to lean hips and slightly rounded buttocks. Beneath his bright red bikini it was easy to see that he was well-built.
The boy scanned the crowd. When his gaze fell on Warren's stare he approached the man. Instead of stroking his smooth legs of fondling his balls as many of the customers were doing, Warren held out his hand. The boy shook it with a genuine smile.
"I like you," Warren said over the buzz of the crowd.
"Thank you. I like you, too," the boy replied with a soft young voice.
"I'd like to see you later."
The boy beamed. "Later," he said, and proceeded back down the runway with added bounce in his step. Before going behind the curtain he stopped, turned, looked back at Warren and gave him a wave.
Warren pushed his way through the people until he reached the large doors leading behind the stage. It was a huge open area separated by cubicles. Each cubicle contained one model. There were no doors because organizers didn't want customers getting free sex. In some, clients chatted with the model and a salesman.
A large "B" hung over a section in the back. Warren hurried back to the boy department. In cubicle number nine the fifteen year-old displayed his large cock and small bush for an enthralled older man. It was obvious that the man wanted the boy's sex. The year was 2084, and times were conservative. The legal adult age was 21, but this law did not apply to models. It was legal to have sex even with the youngest models, the ten year-olds.
Warren reached cubicle 23 and was disappointed to find another man already talking to the boy. The boy didn't seem to be terribly interested. When he saw Warren he flashed him a smile. The other man began to caress his legs. The boy would have liked to push the hand away, but with a salesman standing over them, he didn't dare. Instead, he looked at the man with cold eyes and was unresponsive to his advances. Eventually, the man left.
"What is wrong with you?" the salesman said to the boy. "You must have a screw loose. I'll send you to reconditioning if you don't..."
"Excuse me," Warren said to the man in the suit, "but we had a date."
"Yes, sir. Please have a seat," the salesman said.
"Thank you. Give us a few minutes to talk privately, will you?"
"Yes sir." He gave number 23 a stern look, and then moved across the aisle and continued to watch the temperamental model, though he was out of hearing range.
"You are a feisty one aren't you," Warren said.
"I've talked to my share of men. Live and learn, you know."
"I like that. I'm looking for an open-minded friend. What's your name?"
"Tyson. I picked it myself. I was originally given a different name but I changed it."
Warren introduced himself. "I want a boy who thinks for himself. I don't intend to fill you with pre-conditioning. Furthermore, I want you to have a clean slate concerning religion, political views, sexuality, and so forth. You would be able to make up your own mind on all such matters. You know that could be risky to me. I would also promise never to sell you or return you for reconditioning."
Tyson smiled, dimples in his cheeks. He had expected to be a slave for the rest of his life.
"I would like to travel with you to distant lands to let you see how other people live."
"That would be illegal."
"If you're not interested, I'll understand."
Tyson thought hard for a moment. Warren hoped he wouldn't short-circuit.
"We'd be arrested leaving the country," the boy stated.
"I have the means to get you false documents and make all other necessary changes," Warren said. He had thought everything through and had connections to black market technology.
The boy hugged him and kissed him on the cheek.
Warren waved the salesman over. "I'd like to take him home with me."
The salesman worked to hide his joy. Number 23 had been on display for months, and it looked like they would have to send that robot back to reconditioning for an expensive overhaul. Warren completed the paperwork, checked desired options, and waited while Tyson was taken to another room for adjustments.
Chapter 2
Warren Davis had a large Malibu house with a swimming pool in the secluded back yard. Tyson sat with him at a table poolside. The boy was beautiful and would be that way for his entire life. Robots didn't grow physically. There would be something lost in not being able to see the boy grow, but that was the tradeoff. He'd watched other young friends mature, and was still close to several of them, but in 2084 it was simply too dangerous to have intimate relations with human minors in the United States. Less developed nations still lived life more sensibly, but that too was risky. Warren had visited one of those "barbaric" countries and fallen in love. Alas, it was not legal to stay.
"Do you feel any different after your surgery today?" Warren inquired.
"No, I feel the same," Tyson replied. "It wasn't surgery, it was just a painless adjustment. They've been working on me for more than a year before I was for sale."
"I referred to it as 'surgery' because you are a being now. You can think critically and learn without further technical tampering. As promised, I had unnecessary preconditioning chips pulled. Rather than choosing a religion for you, you will be able to read and listen and form your own opinions." The controversial atheism chip was still legal, but installing one would prejudice Tyson. "Your heterosexuality chip has also been removed. Though the homosexuality gene was discovered decades ago it's still illegal to install a homosexuality chip. You will decide for yourself to whom you are attracted."
"Are you attracted to me, Warren?"
"Very."
"I was attracted to you the first time I saw you," Tyson said. "I guess even though I had the hetero chip a boy can like a man. Then, when we talked, I knew I wanted to be with you because you seemed caring and trustworthy." Tyson was naked and jumped onto the man's lap. They hugged and kissed. Tyson became erect and Warren began to fondle his hairless five inches and beautiful round sack of balls. It was the first time the boy had allowed anyone to touch him in such a manner. It was pleasing. His skin was synthetic, but perfectly lifelike and as sensitive as a human's. He was capable of feeling pleasure and pain. His body was sweating under the sun. Though he had no blood, pressurized hydraulic fluid swelled his penis. "I'll never be able to ejaculate."
Warren smiled. "Wanna bet?"
"You mean...?"
"I have contacted an underground laboratory. They can install that capability as they do in adult male robots. Your semen will not contain sperm, but it will be sweet boycream and the chip that blocks orgasm will be removed."
"Excellent," Tyson said exuberantly. "Actually, it's not a chip, it's just of few lines of programming that need to be deleted."
"Whatever. The professionals know how to do that. Also, they're going to give you fingerprints." This was highly illegal because it was still one of the easiest ways to tell a robot from a human. Tyson was a biologic model rather than electric, meaning that food, water, and sleep gave him his energy instead of plugging into a wall outlet nightly. His respiration and perspiration kept his system cool.
Tyson was above average in intelligence. Some robots were of average intelligence, and others were well below-some people liked the dumb one's because they made better servants. "I chose your six skill options for you. If you don't like them we can change them," Warren told him. Six options was the maximum allowable by law. People didn't want robots that could do everything expertly. It made them feel stupid, and the government reserved the most advanced robots for military and medical purposes. The standard package, the most popular, consisted of: housekeeping, cooking, maintenance, landscaping, driving, and massage therapy. "Can you tell me what your options are?"
Tyson looked around. Not all of his memory was readily accessible. "Well, I'd like to swim, but I'd probably drown."
"I didn't choose swimming," Warren conceded, "but I can help you learn that. You'll be a fish before you know it."
Tyson heard an old Led Zeppelin coming from the stereo inside the house. He began to move his fingers on his air guitar. "I know all these chords. I can play this!"
"I bet you could," Warren said, delighted to see the boy happy about his new skill. He looked forward to hearing the boy's music.
Tyson happily caressed the man's shoulders. "I could give you a massage," he suggested.
Warren smiled again. "Okay, so I chose one from the standard package. You seemed like the kind who liked to please."
"So what are my other skills? I can't seem to recall them."
"Perhaps that's because they're more specialized talents. You'll find use for them-you can write exceptionally well given experience, you can learn foreign languages easily, and public speaking will come easily to you."
"Those don't sound like much fun. What about surfing and skydiving and things like that?"
"You can learn those. You'll be proud of the skills you have to work for." An ant crawled up Warren's arm and he flicked it off.
"Those are edible, you know," Tyson said. He looked bewildered. "How did I know that?"
"You are a wilderness survival expert, my friend. Just in case we end up hiding out in a jungle or something someday."
Tyson nodded. "Might come in handy if we're going to be traveling to some remote parts."
"We can change any of these before we go to the underground techs tomorrow. A drug sensor will also be installed...not that I want you to experience drugs, but you should be subject to all human temptations. When we remove the plug to your command center no more changes can be made. What do you think?" The plug, a hidden connection on the back of the head would need to be removed to conceal his origin.
"I think I'm happy. I'm me...and tomorrow I'll be a human me. If I want to change anything about myself it will be up to me. Can we swim now?"
Warren removed his shorts and descended the steps into the shallow end as he held Tyson's hand. "It's cold!" Tyson exclaimed.
"Solar heated. You should be able to stand much more extreme temperatures than the sun and water today."
"Maybe I've just been in the warehouse too long. I've never been in a swimming pool before."
When they had eased all the way into the water and walked toward the deep end where Tyson, at five foot one, was up to his neck Warren reached down and lifted his legs while supporting his shoulders with his other hand. "There. You're practically floating. The boy was a bit less buoyant than a human, but his musculature gave him some flotation. Now turn over and we'll work on the dog paddle." Tyson had seen dogs swimming on television. His hands went right to work. "Kick your legs." Warren stayed at the boy's side keeping one hand under his chest to support him. Five minutes later, Tyson said, "I think I can do it now."
"Already?" Warren loved feeling Tyson's breathing and watching his bare buttocks as he kicked. "Okay, let's move to shallower water. Now, if you have any problem you can just stand up. Ready?"
"Yeah."
"Go! You're free!"
Tyson paddled and kicked and easily made it to the other side of the pool. Warren swam behind him and embraced the glowing boy.
Tyson swam back and forth. Watching Warren do a breaststroke, he began to imitate. Soon, his arms were stroking gracefully out to the side and his legs did the frog kick. Warren was no swim teacher, but Tyson was well coordinated and learned quickly. He didn't tire easily. Eventually his system told him energy was running low. He felt fatigued and knew it was time to rest.
"Are you hungry?" Warren asked.
"Yeah. And thirsty."
Warren brought out orange juice and sandwiches and they ate under the shade of the umbrella. Later, Tyson moved to a padded lounge chair. Warren joined him and caressed him. He looked in the boy's eyes. They were warm and friendly and genuine. Their lips touched. Tyson had no kissing experience, but enjoyed learning. His dick sprang to attention and Warren stroked it. He moved lower, kissing the entire chest, until he came to the crotch and began licking and sucking. There would be no come until after the next day's additions. For one day he could legally touch the boy any way he pleased. Tomorrow it would be illegal, but he was accustomed to living a suspect life.
Tyson was passive as he was sucked. When Warren gently moved to separate the boy's legs, Tyson spread them wide and draped them over the armrests. Warren went in with his tongue. It was a beautiful ass and it had a little bit of boy flavor inside even after swimming. Tyson pulled his legs farther back. He wanted to be fucked. Warren wanted to, but he decided he would wait until after the human touches were in place that would allow Tyson orgasm. Robots were designed to please. Warren wanted to make sure that it was what his boy wanted.
"Do you want to suck me?" Warren asked.
"Yes," Tyson replied quickly. He was not programmed to suck, but he had watched and learned from Warren.
Warren stood and moved near the boy's face. Tyson, still on his back, took the head of the man's cock into his mouth and worked it with his tongue. He took it out and licked the shaft. His eyes were bright and fascinated. He put it back in his mouth and took it deeper. In and out. Warren couldn't last much longer. He could shoot down Tyson's throat without fear of giving him any STD (though he was clean at last check), but he wanted the boy to see what semen was. He shot one blast onto his chest before Tyson drank the rest. "It's good," he said.
"Tomorrow you will be able to do that. I can't wait to taste yours!"
Warren collapsed on the chair with Tyson in his arms.
Masking a robot as human was illegal for good reason. Society was scared that thinking robots would take over the world or commit horrendous crimes. Warren had spent a great deal of time considering this before he had decided to purchase one. Sealing a robot's plug made it impossible to reprogram it or shut it off. Robots were given only necessary information about technology and their systems. If they were able to reprogram themselves they could remove safety features and become dangerous. Because they were able to learn, many feared that the safety measures were inadequate.
The newest biologic models were estimated to have a life expectancy of around sixty years without overhaul, but only time would tell. Was he creating a monster? He didn't think so. Most people still considered Warren a monster for loving boys. What did they know? And robots were programmed with high character. Occasionally a robot did commit a crime, but it was relatively rare. They lacked greed, so they were not inclined to steal. Though they could love, they could not lust unless their orgasm blocker was disabled as Tyson's now was.
Two men in a van returned Warren and Tyson Davis to their house. They had been blindfolded so that they did not know the location of the laboratory. Three hours was all it took to put the final human touches on Tyson. They also supplied him with a passport and birth certificate. Tyson wanted his birthday to officially read the day he met Warren, so October 27, 2073. The birth year made him only eleven, but it was done that way so that his appearance would be reasonably compatible with his identification for several years. Since Tyson would not grow, the birth date on his ID would have to be changed every few years...his picture would not. Without physical aging, robots never had to worry about old age as most humans did.
Tyson began taking off his clothes as soon as they were inside their house. "The first thing I want to do is test out my newly charged cock." Naked, he took Warren's hand and led him to the bedroom.
Warren hurried to get out of his clothes as Tyson was already jacking off on the bed. They kissed with greater passion, but Tyson was very anxious. He got up on top of the man and stuck his penis in Warren's mouth. Unlike the previous day, he now thrust his hips vigorously. A little precum began to appear. Moments later he positioned himself between Warren's legs wanting to enter.
"Wouldn't you rather shoot it in my mouth so we can see it and taste it?" Warren suggested.
"I'll pull out in time to give you a taste," Tyson said, breathing hard.
Warren agreed and passed him the lubricant. He'd known and loved such aggressive boys. It was far preferable to the passive types who were always on their backs, but he hoped Tyson hadn't lost his desire to give. Versatile boys were the best.
"Put some on your finger and lube me up," Warren instructed. Tyson's fair-sized cock would be a bit of a challenge. The boy didn't take much time with the finger before he began to enter. Warren had to slow him down. It was Tyson's first time and he needed to learn to ease it in. Once in, he began to fuck enthusiastically. In a minute, he pulled out and shot an ample spurt onto the man's chest before putting it back in with a big smile. His orgasm had been intense. With his finger he wiped up some of the cream and put it in Warren's open mouth.
"Mmm. That's very sweet," Warren said. "Taste it." He put some on his finger and offered it to Tyson. Reluctant at first, the boy sucked his finger and agreed that it was good.
Blissfully, Tyson collapsed on the man's chest. Warren was happy, but needed his own relief. Tyson apparently didn't realize that. This time, it would be enough to grab the boy's buttocks and slide their lubricated dicks together. He came and held Tyson tightly.
"Now that you're human, you'll have to go to school," Warren said.
"Aw, do I have to? I bet I already know most of that stuff. "
Youth were required to attend school year-round until they were twenty-one. They were given three weeks vacation per year, one week in December, one in April, and one in August. Leaders contended that this led to a much lower crime rate.
"There is an alternative."
"Like what?"
"I could hire a teacher to tutor you. That way we could spend more time together."
"Good idea, but how can we travel if I have to study all the time? Would the teacher go with us?" Tyson inquired.
Most teachers were robots. Humans burned out quickly, were less knowledgeable, less cooperative, and more expensive. No salary and health benefits had to be paid to robots. "We can solve that problem by bribing a human teacher to falsify records of attendance and study for you when we're gone."
"You're a genius, Warren!"
"I don't know about that, but since robot students aren't allowed in schools, we don't want to take the chance of you being discovered. You'll still have plenty opportunity to hang out with kids. Schools are very strict these days and feed you a lot of bull shit."
Elementary school students learned at an early age that touching was not appropriate. School suspensions were automatic for handholding and hugging (also for kissing, but that almost never happened between youth in public). Sex between youths was punished harshly. The older of the two automatically became a registered sex offender, incarcerated, and often castrated. Even if the relationship had been consensual, the youngest person was forced to lie in order to avoid decades behind bars. A minor having sexual contact with a robot was illegal, but one rarely did time on first offence.
There were so few personal freedoms left by the 2080's that nearly all United States citizens were fed up with government mandates. Most of the world resented the powerful country for imposing their morals on the rest of the world. Most of the American tourists who visited other countries seemed sex-crazed to the locals. It was obvious to them that the stringent laws of the United States led to this.
All sex outside of marriage was illegal, and one could not marry before reaching the age of adult at twenty-one. Sexual predators-including rapists and those who had sex with a child younger than twenty-one years of age-were almost never released. Youth of fifteen years or more were commonly sent to adult prison, though the drinking age was twenty-five, and the age at which one could drive was twenty-three.
More and more people were sentenced to long prison terms. Investing in independent prisons was the most reliable and profitable stock. Drug users were often sentenced to life in prison.
Borders were securely closed to new residents. Aliens were allowed to work at five dollars per hour (though minimum wage for residents was twenty-eight dollars per hour) but were confined to gated worker communities at all times when they weren't at work. Robots could do most any menial job, but employing aliens was more economical. Realizing the importance of work, the government required that a certain percentage of employees must be American.
The justice system was overloaded. Prisons could not be built fast enough, and few workers wanted to build new prisons that would likely incarcerate them, their friends, and their families. Thus, the need for robotic construction workers grew.
The Americans had nearly achieved their perfect society. Was anyone happy? The wealthy, living secluded lives, enjoyed their luxuries and their travels to the few countries left that were deemed "civilized". The middle class took solace in materialism. The abundant poor felt trapped. All were restless and upset by their lack of freedom. Most imagined that robots were the answer to their problems, but only the rich could afford the latest models. Some middleclass citizens owned secondhand, more limited prototypes. The poor dreamed of having a slave. Most importantly, robots gave everyone hope and something to work for.
Tyson slept little that night. Round after round of sex pleased them both, but Warren worried that the boy might be permanently overactive. His only recourse would be to control the amount of food given. Every time he was nearly asleep he felt Tyson probing him for another go. Finally, at dawn, Tyson fell asleep. The boy had come five times while Warren came twice; once when he licked Tyson's butt as the boy sucked him, and the second time as he finally convinced Tyson to sit on him. The boy bounced up and down energetically, until he came in the man's hand. Warren felt the anus contract, and the delight in discovering this realistic feature tossed him to cloud nine. The boy was more aggressive after the day's alterations. His legs didn't automatically spread and offer as they had the day before, but he hadn't lost his desire to please. It reminded Warren of the first time he had traveled to Thailand and fallen in love with a boy. They had spent the entire night making love. Their passion never died, but no night in the relationship ever compared to that first night.
Warren awoke five hours later to a '60's love ballad. The 2060's were a turbulent time of riots and protests. The music of the time often sang of peace and love. He assumed Tyson had turned on the stereo. It was a flawless rendition. Then he heard the twelve year-old voice. It didn't match the quality of the guitar, but it was soothing and matched most of the chords.
"Tyson," Warren called.
The naked guitarist entered the bedroom and sat beside the man singing the sweet words of love. Warren hugged him at the completion of the tune.
"You like it?" Tyson asked.
"I loved it. And I love listening to your voice."
"I need practice singing, but the guitar is a piece of cake!"
"When we travel we'll have to take the guitar with us. It will be great hearing your music on the beach at sundown. The locals and our boyfriends will gather around."
"When do we leave?"
"Soon."
"Where are we going?"
"I'd like to take you to Asia first. Do you know where that is?" Warren wanted to get they boy out of the US before American attitudes sapped his enthusiasm for life.
"Of course. I could tell you all of the countries and their capitol cities. And I could draw a map and put them all in the right place," Tyson said confidently.
"Amazing. Sometimes countries divide or combine, and borders change, so you'll have to watch the news to stay current."
Tyson figured he knew enough about geography. More importantly, his dick was hard. He set the guitar aside and jumped on top of Warren, straddling him and kissing him while he rubbed his hot boyhole against the tip of Warren's cock. The boy wanted an injection of his life-giver's juice.
Note: this story was written before "A.I." hit the theaters. mi69chico@hotmail.com