Marcus Bleak and the Sex Robots Ch. 04

Marcus shifted uncomfortably in his seat as her voice rose steadily in volume. He thought she was slowly becoming unhinged.

"You men cheat on your women with impunity and expect us to just accept it as human nature yet you all go ballistic when we do exactly the same thing. A man will sleep with a hundred women and is called a stud yet if a woman looks at another man lustfully she is called a slut. A woman is raped by a man and the way she is treated by the police and media she ends up being the villain rather than the victim. She is told that if she had not worn her skirt too short then maybe the rapist would not have targeted her as if the bastard is not allowed to have a little something called self control. The truth is that we women have mystified you men for thousands of years and you fear what you do not understand."

"Now, here comes the final solution to women- sex robots. At last a chance to make women they way you want them to be. Why have women around when you can make sex robots do everything that we can and most importantly, not give you any lip about it? Here is a chance to create the perfect woman with the perfect figure and with the perfect psychology. At last you can create a woman who will be your slave, do anything you want without hesitation, without fuss. And when they have become part of every home, what happens to us? We become useless. Eventually it will be decided that we can no longer occupy the dwindling space left on this planet. One day you will all decide we women will have to GO."

She stopped talking and stared intensely at him. He tried to keep his face blank but he couldn't deny that everything just she said actually made some sense. He didn't think there would be a genocide against women but what would happen when they were no longer important to men? The thought was really disturbing.

However his comment on the subject never materialized as he heard the front door open and slam shut. Moments later a young girl, probably sixteen walked into the living room and stopped, startled, as she saw Marcus. They contemplated each other with interest.

She would have been a really pretty girl if she had decided to at least look like one. She had very short, blond hair that wasn't even remotely stylish and slashed eyebrows. Her cherubic, white face was totally devoid of any form of make up and her puffy pink lips moved constantly as she chewed on bubblegum. She was wearing a large, grey hooded pullover and a dirty, purposefully torn, baggy pair of jeans. Her white canvas shoes were dirty. She eyed Marcus with disdain. He could see a tattoo reaching out from under the collar of her pullover on to her long neck. It looked like a scorpion or spider. If the air was chilly between Marcus and Mrs. Abel a moment ago it had certainly just dropped to below freezing.

"Detective," Mrs. Abel said trying to break the tension, "This is my daughter Jinx."

"Hello, Jinx," said Marcus sneering at her. She glared back at him. "I was telling your mother about Rose the... ah... robot. Do you know her... it?"

"What about it?" she snapped. Her voice was high pitched and filled with acid. She was definitely no sweet sixteen.

"Someone bashed in her cybernetic brain and punched her ticket" he said in a mocking tone. "Any idea who this person is?"

Her slanted, slashed eyebrows rose a little then she smiled nastily.

"That's easy," she drawled, "It was me."

Murtala Mohammed Teleport, Lagos, New Nigeria,

Tuesday, 06 September, 2050

10:30

Chiamaka arrived at the teleport looking like a slut. She didn't intentionally do so, it was just she was used to wearing clothes that easily caught the notice of prospective clients. She wore a caramel coloured dress that was so short it could be called a top. The hem went higher than mid-thigh showing off her sleek, supple legs. The light colour of the dress contrasted nicely with her dark skin. The neckline plunged precariously downwards, displaying most of her huge rounded breasts with the deep, dark crevice of her cleavage running down the middle. A half blind eye could spot the bulge of her thick, eraser like nipples as they strained against the ridiculously transparent fabric. Anyone could see through the dress to spot her black lace bra with the matching thong. Her massive bottom wobbled and shook with every movement she made as her cream coloured high heels clopped across the floor.

She could feel eyes on her when she bought her ticket at the counter and walked into the crowded waiting room. She didn't look anyone in the eye and chose a seat facing the floor to ceiling windows. She sat down, crossed her legs and pulled her skirt down as much as she could. She stared at the people passing by and some stared right back with varying degrees of lust, shock or outright contempt. She wasn't bothered. She was already desensitized to such things.

It wasn't long before she had to get up to go through customs. There was the usual search of luggage through the scanners but she noticed the teleport security men watching her with interest. One of them came up to her and took her arm.

"Madam" he said, smiling nastily. "You have to come with me."

"Why?" she asked alarmed.

"Your bag is looking suspicious and we have to give it a thorough search," he said and his smile widened to an evil grin filled with sparse, yellow teeth.

"But..." The man yanked her out of the line and started dragging her unceremoniously towards the security office. She could her whoops and giggles from crowd around. She ceased to protest and wondered why she took everything so meekly all the time. Her sister Adanna would have torn the man's face off.

The security man pushed her through a door into a sparsely furnished office. There were three desks inside and a large, bald man sat behind one of them. His bloodshot eyes clawed over Chiamaka's body and she immediately felt that delicious thrill of terror that was so familiar to her. She always felt that thrill whenever she was in the presence of a true predator like whenever her uncle walked into her room at night when she was little.

"What's this?" the man said with a cruel smile.

"I found her acting suspiciously, sir, " the security man said. "I suggest we take her into one of the rooms and search her properly."

"That's a good idea," the man said, his red eyes lingering on her magnificent, sweaty bosom that heaved with apprehension. Let's use the backroom. It's soundproof."

Chiamaka opened her mouth to protest but when he glared at her she shut it closed again. The security man roughly dragged her across the office to a side door. He opened it and pushed her inside the room. It was empty except for a long table. She heard the door lock behind her and turned to find the two men facing her with lewd smiles on their faces. She knew her goose was cooked.

"Drop your bag on the table," ordered the man she assumed was the superior. "Tony, search it."

Chiamaka placed her gold coloured bag on the table as the man who had pulled her out of the line went towards it. He picked it up and upturned it, dumping the contents on the table. The men whistled when they saw bundles of cash among the usual crap.

"These are dollars," Tony hissed as he picked up a wad and leafed through it. "Why are you carrying so much cash?"

It is my personal money," Chiamaka said desperately. "Please, just put it back."

"It looks like money laundering to me," said Tony smiling nastily.

"No! It isn't."

"What do you think, sir?"

His superior leaned against the door and crossed his arms over his massive chest. He shrugged.

"It looks like money laundering," he drawled, "Only goodness knows what else she's carrying. Search her, Tony."

"Yes, sir."

Tony licked his lips and walked purposely towards her. She stepped back in alarm.

"Raise your arms above your head," he ordered sternly.

She obeyed. It's not like she had much of a choice anyway. He reached out and ran his hands down her outstretched arms. He touched her shaved armpits and she shivered. Then his hands wondered downwards still, turned inwards and cupped her breasts. She gasped as he slowly massaged the two massive globes through her dress, his outstretched palms barely able to purchase a grip on her boobs. Eventually he settled on tweaking her hard nipples between thumbs and fore fingers.

When he was satisfied he ran his hands over her belly then he stooped to grab her wide hips. After exploring those magnificent contours he then began to explore her exposed thighs. He ran his fingers slowly over the succulent flesh and pushed his hand under the dress. He cupped her pussy and she moaned as he fondled her through the weak fabric of her thong. He pulled away suddenly leaving her hot and bothered. He stood up and turned to his superior.

"Nothing, sir" he said briskly. "Except that she's really wet down there. I don't know what she's hiding but I will have to do a more thorough search."

His superior nodded in agreement.

"Madam," he said. "You will have to take off your clothes."

"Why?" she cried.

"Cavity search. We have to be thorough." His colleague Tony nodded in agreement.

Seething with fury she slowly started to slide down the straps of her dress from her shoulders. She wanted to waste as much time as possible until she realized that was exactly what the men wanted. Eventually she sighed in disgust and just pulled off her dress and tossed it on the table. The men gawked at her as her big, juicy bits jiggled in her skimpy underwear.

"Mmmmm," moaned the superior, "Looks like she's carrying a lot of baggage." Tony giggled in agreement. Chiamaka would have blushed if she wasn't so dark skinned and proceeded to remove the last remnants of her dignity. She tossed them on the table to join her discarded dress. She tried to cover her hairy pussy with her hands but a sharp bark of rebuke from the superior brought them hurriedly to her sides, leaving her privates exposed for all to see.

"Turn around, madam," grunted the superior. "Let's see those big, juicy buttocks of yours."

She obeyed.

"Bend over. Grab your ankles."

She did as he requested.

"Now grab those huge ass cheeks of yours and spread them apart. Let's see your asshole."

She didn't hesitate.

"Wow! Look how big her anus is," commented tony. "I wonder how many times she's been fucked in the ass?"

"She's an ashawo so she must have gotten a lot of cocks down there," the superior nodded in agreement. "I'm sure it's mostly white guys that come to this country looking for some bushmeat to sample. It's only white guys that like to fuck women in the ass. You know any African guys that like to fuck women in the ass?"

"Nah," said Tony. "That's disgusting. We hardly like to suck pussy even. Only white guys do such gross things."

The two men were discussing as if Chiamaka wasn't in the room. She dared not break position and struggled to keep her ass cheeks spread wide open, making sure her asshole lay agape for all to see.

"Tony, give her a cavity search."

"We've run out of latex gloves."

"Well, you should have requested for more, shouldn't you?"

"Sorry, sir."

"Take the whore into the bathroom and make sure she washes out all her holes. Then use your bare hands to thoroughly search them."

"Yes, sir!"

Tony ordered her to walk into the bathroom. When she hesitated he smacked her viciously on her huge, round bum making it jiggle. She yelped and scampered towards a door at the other end of the room. The men giggled.

The bathroom was a torrid affair with a cracked, stained porcelain bathtub at one corner. A dirty yellow plastic bucket sat in the middle of it. Tony ordered her to fill up the bucket with water from the tap. She had to bend over to do this so for the second time in as many minutes she was exposing her puckered black hole for his viewing pleasure.

When she was done, he told her to climb into the tub and scoop water from the bucket and wash her private parts. She was to face away from him when washing her asshole so he could verify she did a thorough job. With her face burning with humiliation she began to splash water on her pussy and butt hole and proceeded to vigorously wash them out. Tony kept up a running commentary about how stretched her asshole was, how bushy her pussy was and how she was a dirty ashawo and a fuck pet for white tourists.

Chiamaka didn't say a word. She was afraid of what would happen to her if she became stubborn. No matter the strides in women's rights in the western world, Africa was still a very traditional land. Women were second class citizens and had no say in issues that mattered. Yes, a lot more African women were educated, even more than the men and a lot of them had good jobs but it was still strictly a man's world. A woman like her had no chance. Society looked down on prostitutes and they were fair game. That's why no one had come to her defence when she had been dragged off the line. That's why no one would care if she was raped in this office.

Tony ordered her out of the tub and back into the outer room. She walked over to the table, her voluptuous, black body dripping wet. The superior was still leaning against the door and she noticed the tent on the crotch of his pants. He grinned at her and she shivered.

"Bend over the table, ashawo," he ordered. Chiamaka did as he asked and stretched over the dusty table, bending at the waist. Her buttocks ballooned out like two compressed basketballs. She pushed away her dress and bag on the table to give her more room. She pressed her face on the cold polished wood and listened to her captors discuss whether to fuck her in the pussy or ass. They agreed to plug her pussy first and she felt herself get wet in anticipation.

When she felt the large, bulbous head of the first cock press against her pussy lips, she gasped in shock. It was huge! She started to struggle frantically but the two hands gripping her waist held her steady like a vice. The cock leisurely stretched her to capacity as it slowly pushed its way in. The more it penetrated, the wider it became. Chiamaka heard someone screaming like a banshee and it took a while to realise it was her. It felt even bigger than Janet's android cock!

Mercifully she felt a huge set of balls slap against her and she knew the cock was all the way in her pussy. She decided it wasn't a very long prick but it was thicker than anything she had ever taken before. The cock began to pump her and she squealed like a stuck pig.

She could hear the two men discussing sports and politics as she was being raped doggy style. To them she was just a fuck toy to be used and abused for their pleasure. She would be lucky if they let her go. She could get chained to a toilet seat indefinitely and only led out on a dog leash whenever they were horny.

It wasn't long before the man behind her grunted noisily and emptied his big, hairy nuts deep inside her. He pulled out with a plop and a second later another cock replaced his. This one was thick and long but no way as wide as the last one. However it reached deep into her innermost parts and really hurt as he hammered into her. The room was filled with the sounds of her grunts and groans as her new lover fucked the shit out of her. These men weren't romantic guys, few African men were. They were just fuckists seeking their own sexual gratification.

Chiamaka couldn't stop herself from cumming and she screamed helplessly. He recognized Tony's voice as he roared in pleasure. His hips started to buck and she felt his hot cum pour deep inside her. She winced as she hadn't been on the pill in a while.

The men got bored with her after that. They didn't fuck her in the ass and they didn't want blowjobs despite her being more than ready to take more action since she was now fully turned on. They told her to dress up and gave her back the bag after taking some of her money. She hurriedly left to join the queue and she recognized a few people who had witnessed her being dragged away. They whispered amongst themselves and giggled. A few of them were clearly hookers. She ignored them.

Mrs. Abel's residence , Nieuwendam, Amsterdam,

Tuesday, 08 October, 2052

23:42

Mrs. Abel went as pale as printing paper and immediately screamed at her daughter:

"Jinx, shut up! You know that's not true." She then turned to Marcus who had not shown any reaction to Jinx's statement. "Detective, she's lying. She's just trying to get in trouble so she can embarrass my husband and I."

"When did this happen, Jinx?" asked Marcus, watching her with interest.

"Last night," said Jinx, "Me and some of my friends decided to teach the black bitch a lesson."

"Where did this happen?" He noticed Mrs. Abel flinch at the words 'black bitch'.

"Exactly where you found her, copper."

Marcus smiled.

"You didn't really kill Rose did you?" he asked in a heavily patronizing tone.

"Stop talking like she's human because she's not!" screamed Jinx. "Anyway the nigger robot got what it deserved."

"Jinx!" screeched Mrs. Abel in shock and looked fearfully at Marcus. The only change in his expression was his right eyebrow climbing a few notches.

"So you hate Rose because she was designed to look like a beautiful black woman?" asked Marcus.

"Beautiful? Maybe because you're black you would think she's hot. She looks no different from all the other monkeys out in the street who came in from Africa."

"Jinx, you will behave like a lady!" hissed her mother, her eyes flashing dangerously. Marcus glanced briefly at her and turned back to Jinx.

"My father loved nigger tail long before he met Rose," continued Jinx, completely ignoring her mother. "He had a taste for black bush meat even before sex robots started to take over. However for some reason he couldn't get enough of Rose. He used to at least try to be a little discreet before but now he brings her to the house whenever mom's not around. He bangs her right in their matrimonial bed, imagine that?"

Marcus thought Mrs. Abel was going to have a heart attack. Her fists were clenched and she gritted her teeth. Jinx still stood imperiously, enjoying the discomfort she was causing. Marcus crooked a finger at her.

"Come here, girl," he said softly.

"You don't tell me what to do, copper" she rasped, sneering at him. "Especially a nigger copper like you. You think because you got a badge you can barge in here and interrogate us like you're the Gestapo? Why don't you go look for some of your brothers and sisters to deport?"

Marcus grinned wolfishly and Jinx suddenly looked a little uneasy.

"Come here now," he whispered, his eyes glittering like diamonds.

Jinx edged closer and Marcus reached out and grabbed the skinny wrist of her left hand. She yelped and tried to wrench free but he held her in a vice like grip and pulled up the sleeve of her pullover. He saw the elaborate tattoo of a naked man with the arms and legs outstretched with labels and arrows pointing to different parts of the body.

"For how long have you been a member of the Human Race?" he asked. She glared back at him but didn't say anything. Mrs. Abel just sat there wringing her hands.

The Human Race was an anti-robot extremist group that had been linked to dozens of attacks on robots in the European Union. They had chapters everywhere and their headquarters was right here in Amsterdam and they usually focused their attacks on sex robots. Most times they were raped and beheaded so that their C.P.Us could not be used to view their last memories. However Rose was found in one piece even if she was a little worse for wear. Marcus doubted if Jinx was a real member. Quite possibly she had a boyfriend who was involved and he had pulled her in. The Human Race was not known to accept women although they had affiliations with female groups like the Daughters of Eve.