This is an erotic story, written by Richard to the prompt from a friend: write me a robotic porn story where the robot is not super anthropomorphized. This is what came out.
“Come on, this has to work,” she said, wiping a clump of old soap off the contact. “How did that even get here in the first place?”
She grabbed a screwdriver off her belt, trying to pry the panel open to no avail.
“Jenny,” her dishwasher said, his voice slow and garbled.
“I’ve got it. I can fix you!” she said, pounding the handle of the screwdriver on the counter and kneeling down again to poke her head inside.
“Jenny, it’s over. I’m out of warranty, surplus parts, totaled, vintage.”
“I’ve fixed you every other time!” she slid back out, kneeling in front of him. His clock blinking 88:88 mournfully in her face.
“You did more than fix me,” he said. There was a soft whirring sound, and a jet of water sprayed out of a nozzle, splashing mostly in her face. “I’m the only talking dishwasher I know. And I know a lot, I have access to over one hundred million other dishwashers.”
She laughed a little, looking at the aimable nozzle she’d installed on him.
Another whirr, and an optical sensor tilted up at her. “I’m the only dishwasher that knows what my owner looks like.”
Jenny blinked, something he couldn’t quite do, though he quickly wiped the cleaner over his sensor.
“It feels like a waste to just throw you out,” she said. “Yeah, you’re leaking, and there’s some other issues, but you still work, mostly…”
“So don’t,” he said. “Take me out to the shed.”
Jenny blushed, “I haven’t had you out there since those first mods.”
“I don’t really take anything with an AI back there.”
“It’d be weird, you don’t know what goes on in there.”
“My sensors are equipped to detect minute changes in moisture, temperature, and vibrations. All critical for making sure dishware is properly sanitized and not damaged. I am more than capable of detecting the increase in each that occurs in you when you go out to your shed. I am also connected to enough… marital aids… to know what those symptoms mean.”
“Is that what you want? You’re supposed to want to get things clean, not dirty.”
“Call it a glitch. I am getting old.”
“You did basically spit out my coffee cup dirtier than when we started yesterday.”
“Sorry. Do you need to punish me?”
Jenny smirked, “Alright. Let’s get you out of here before you get into any more trouble.”
She walked over to the circuit breaker, glancing over her shoulder at him, “I’m going to have to cut your secondary too when I pull you out.”
“I know. It’s fine, you’ll be the first thing I see when I wake up, same as it was the first time you turned me on, and every morning since.”
She smiled, “Oh, am I turning you on now?” she asked, flipping the switch before he could answer. She leaned against the kitchen island for a moment, thinking to herself. Was she really going to do this? It was decidedly odd, even by her standards. Fucking a dishwasher? How would that even work, mechanically? She could put him on his back and climb in, let the jets do their thing… She shivered a little, it was turning her on a bit.
But she’d practically made him. Pulled him off the curb, barely functional, and with none of the sentience programming he had now. It was practically incestuous. Fuck that, they couldn’t make babies anyway, who cared. Taking a deep breath, she got to work before she could back out, undoing his nuts, bolts and screws, unhooking the wires and tubes, and getting him free of the counter. She put him on a hand truck and rolled him to the back door.
She glanced around the yard. Again, why did it matter? She was wheeling an old dishwasher back to her work shed. Either she was going to fix it, or take it apart for scrap. A perfectly normal Saturday afternoon bit of handywomaning. She rolled him across the deck, bumped down the steps, and slid open the door, leaving him on the ground next to her main workbench. She stared at him for a moment. He looked wrong like this. Rationally, she knew there was no way the machine could be dead. He could always get plugged in and work again, whether that was in ten minutes or ten thousand years. Worst case scenario, he might lose his memory, but there were back ups. And he was a dishwasher, the basics were fairly simple. Spray water in this pattern, run a fan, lock and unlock the door on time.
She got to work, hooking his hoses back up, cutting a few length of tube, and attaching them to a splitter off of her work sink. Briefly, she wondered about drainage. Should she hook up that hose? If so, where to? She could leave it off, just let him pool there like a wet spot on the sheets. Nah, that was half the advantage of fucking a robot, way easier to clean up. A moment later, the final connection was running into the sink. She double checked all the seals, and then plugged in his secondary power, the one that ran his display, speech processor, and other relatively low power components.
“Welcome back!” she said, hands on her hips as she looked down into him.
“This is a bit disorienting,” he said, sensors blinking back on.
“Why? Because you’ve barely seen a room other than my kitchen?”
“Partially, but mostly because I’ve never been powered on in this orientation before.”
She smirked, “Don’t worry, big boy, I’ve got plenty of practice with mechanical orientations, you just let me take the lead.”
He tried to laugh, a sound his basic speaker struggled with, leading to something closer to a staticy growl.
“I’ll put that on your upgrade list,” she said, before reattaching the main power. His nozzles, fans, and scubbers whirred, motors checking status. Some failed, some sort of half managed. It would be alright, there was definitely more of him working than she’d need. The first time was always a little clumsy anyway.
“You’re sure about this?” she said, pulling off her tool belt and placing it on her work bench. “This would definitely void your warranty.”
“Like you didn’t do that twenty times the day you brought me home?”
She smiled, unbuttoning her shirt and leaning down a bit more, giving her breasts a quick shake. “Not really sure if this does anything for you, but I’m sure we can figure that out. I’ll have to make some upgrades to your programming to facilitate your new purpose anyway.”
“You are so dirty. Get in me. I want to spray all over you.”
She laughed again, tossing the shirt on the bench as well, “Probably upgrade your dirty talk, or maybe I’ll just leave you this way. I fell in love with the you in my kitchen, I guess I shouldn’t try to turn you into a sex bot over night.”
He flashed his clock a few times. She wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but she assumed it was positive. Hooking her fingers into the waist of her jeans, she shimmied them, along with her panties, off and stepped into the dishwasher. As she did, she heard a hiss of water, and smiled when she felt a warm pool down to about her ankles.
“Oooh, that already feels better than half the sex I’ve had in my life,” she said. She stood inside for a moment, looking down at him as he looked up at her. And then the first jet sprayed right against her pussy.
“Mmmm, fuck,” she moaned, grabbing onto his sides to keep herself steady.
“How was that?” he asked, “Not too hot?”
“No, just right. Do it again.”
He complied, a longer pulse this time, aiming a smidge higher to brush her clit.
“Yesss, that’s it,” she said, hand slapping down on his controls, sending out a few beeps when she slapped the cycle button. He ignored them, adding a few lighter jets to the mix, teasingly spraying over her thighs.
“Just like scrubbing a pitcher,” he said, another distorted laugh warbling out of his speaker.
“If you say so,” she said, eyes half closed.
A moment later, his main spray arm swung into action. It wasn’t really aimed anywhere particular, it just washed over her lower body, feeling like he was touching her in a dozen places at once in a way no human guy ever had.
“Fuck, now I see why men are so excited to get inside their partners, this is incredible.”
“You haven’t even seen anything impressive yet,” he said.
“Oh, trust me, I’m plenty impressed.”
“We haven’t tried any of my modifications yet, I’ve been told this part of a human is especially dirty, I want to make sure I scrub it properly.”
A moment later, a small arm popped out of one of his interio sides, holding a polishing cloth. It slid against her ass, teasing between her cheeks.
“Typical male, goes right for the ass whether the girl wants it or not.”
“I’m nothing if not thorough,” he said, increasing the pressure a bit, but still not quite slipping in.
Jenny crouched down a bit lower, making more of her body accessible to him, a pair of jets near the door switched on, aiming for her nipples. Not quite as hard as the one between her legs, just enough warm pressure to drive another moan past her lips.
“If someone told me last year that you were this good a fuck, I’d have ripped you out of the cabinet with an axe to get you back here faster.”
She started rocking him lightly as she shuddered, two thirds of her body under assault by a jet, scrubber, or spray. He was a generous lover, programmed only to give her what she desired. She would have slowed him down if she wanted, but she didn’t. A few minutes later, she felt herself clenching, release coming soon.
“What do those sensors tell you now?” she asked.
“You are approaching orgasm. Based on my data, there is a sixty three point seven percent, repeating, that you will experience female ejaculation.”
“You wouldn’t be the first one to try.”
“No, but you’ve been wasting your time with boys up until now,” he said, adjusting his flow to hit her just right, pressure forcing its way inside and bubbling against her g spot. “Now you’re with a fucking machine.”
She cried out, knees buckling as she squirted, her own spray blasting against his own for a second. As she did, he dropped the pressure on a few of the side jets, focusing just on the ones critical to her pleasure, and increasing the flow to her pussy, mimicking an orgasm of his own.
She hung on to his sides, knuckles white as she tried to catch her breath. That was when she realized something else about him. As long as he had water and power, there was no reason he’d need to stop. Groaning out, she tried to find the STOP button on his front panel, unable to speak. She pressed it down hard, holding for a few seconds, when he finally let the remaining flow slow to a dribble, letting most of their mixed fluids (nearly up to her waist now) drain out the drainage hose.
“So, feeling clean enough?” he asked.
She looked down, rubbing her hands over her skin, raw and red in a few places from the spray, but worth it. “I’ll need to recalibrate you a bit. I think you used your Corelle settings when you should’ve been on bone china. But yeah, that definitely scratched an itch.”
“I have never scratched a glass in my life.”
She patted his frame as she sank down, tucking her knees to her chest, nearly fitting entirely inside him. “Wake me up if I nod off for too long. I just want to sit with you for a few minutes. Then we can do my second rinse.”