Peter Priper Ch. 12

The Queen glared. "What is in your hands?"

I froze. Retta elbowed me. "Show her. She's the Queen." So I opened them up. The Queen stared at my pearly goo. There was a shocked silence in the courtroom.

"Sorry," I said. "I, um, lost control."

The Queen sat back and looked at me. "You were jerking off while I was holding court."

"Not exactly, your Majesty."

"No one gets themselves off in my court. Absolutely no one."

I glanced around. The entire room, it seemed, was smirking at me. "It just sort of happened. Your gown was falling open, and I just came on my own."

"That's the sort of excuse a teenage boy would give. Aren't you a little old for that?"

"I swear, it hasn't happened in twenty years. Until I saw you."

"Until you saw me?" She sat back. "This sounds like an interesting story."

Flattery was clearly the only way I was going to get out of this one-alive, or without her playing some horrible practical joke on me. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Your body is perfect, and you move in this incredibly erotic way. And when I saw your breasts and your pussy, which I couldn't help fantasizing about, I just exploded. On my own, without even touching it. All I could do was catch the jizz. You drove me absolutely mad. You turned me into a horny teenager again."

The Queen smiled. "I am not displeased with your explanation. Not displeased at all. But still, I am absolute monarch of all orgasms here. So you will be punished. Take this man to the dungeon."

Retta suddenly went pale. "You can't."

"Hush," said the Queen.

"You can't take him. He's mine."

"What the hell, Retta?" The Queen slapped the arm of her chaise longue. "I can put anyone I want in the dungeon. You hoping to go there yourself?"

"But Peter's not anyone," said Retta. "He's a sex robot."

"What?" the Queen and I said simultaneously.

"I bought him on the Internet," said Retta.

"I am not a-" I stared at her. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't listen to him," said Retta. "His software is malfunctioning because I took him in the shower."

"But his firmware is fine," said Trudy, and prodded my penis with her finger.

"Have you two gone insane?" I said.

"We're not kidding," said Trudy. She stepped up on the dais and curtsied. "Trudy Mulheimer, royal accountant."

"Dammit, Trudy," the Queen muttered. "I know who you are."

Trudy reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope, the one from this morning with PAST DUE in big red letters on the front. She unfolded the letter inside and handed it to the Queen. "You'll see here an invoice for a sex robot, name of Peter."

The Queen examined the paper. "He cost nine hundred thousand yen? That sounds like a lot."

"I am not a sex robot," I said. "I have literally no idea what these two are talking about."

"I'm going to call tech support when we get home," said Trudy. "It's evidently having some kind of memory problem."

"Not. A. Sex. Robot. I have kids! You know I have kids. I skyped with them the other night."

"Was that what you thought you were doing?" asked Trudy. "I wondered why you were talking to a Youtube video."

"I have an ex-wife."

"You have a former owner," said Trudy.

"I have a job, and a house-"

The girls both cracked up. "You have a job?" said Trudy.

Retta laid her hand on my shoulder. "That is kind of silly, Peter."

"Well, I'm not working now. I'm on medical leave." I pointed to my crotch. "Can't exactly appraise real estate with a giant boner. Hi, guys, my boner is here to inspect your warehouse. Will you two stop laughing?"

"You sit around the house all day and fuck," said Trudy. "Just like, oh, I don't know, maybe a sex robot."

"Still, I have a house in Leslieville. I rent out the basement to a graduate student. The neighbours on one side are from China and on the other side from Switzerland. The Swiss guy is kind of a dick. I drive a Nissan. The tires are practically bald and I end up skidding through stop signs every time it snows. I went to UT Mississauga for university. My pot dealer when I was an undergrad is now a lawyer on Bay Street. My first kiss was with Katie MacMillan in grade eight."

"Blah blah blah," said Trudy. "You were programmed to say all that. Each robot comes with a unique backstory, the website said."

I drew in a breath slowly, trying to calm down. "If I'm your sex robot, why am I older than you?"

"Retta ordered the Donald Draper model."

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

The Queen lifted a hand. "That's enough. The rules say, no Heart may take someone else's toys without permission. Not even me." She crossed her legs, and I caught a brief glimpse of her pussy. "So it's yours, Retta."

"Another rule," I said. "No one's allowed to call me 'it'."

"But, um, Retta?" The Queen paused. "Maybe I could borrow your sex robot sometime? Just to try it out."

"I'm sorry, your Majesty," said Retta.

The Queen gave her a sour look. "You share it with your friends."

"It was so expensive, we all went in on it."

"Your Majesty," said Trudy, "the things you're into would probably void the warranty."

The Queen sat back in her throne. "All right, go on, then. Court dismissed. Just one more thing, Retta. You're not getting attached to that robot, are you?"

Retta smiled breezily. "Just the one time, your Majesty. We haven't had a problem since."

#

I didn't speak to the girls the whole way home. I did mow their lawn, but only to have an excuse to get away from them. I didn't speak to them at dinner either. And I absolutely refused to have sex with any of them, no matter how much Trudy sighed and pouted and fondled herself.

I was lying in bed reading a well-thumbed copy of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe when Retta came in. She stood in the doorway, in that tiny semi-sheer dress, backlit from the living room, so that the outline of her gorgeous body showed.

I exhibited some reasonable amount of restraint, which is to say that I was careful not to drool.

"Retta, why are you so jealous of the Queen?"

She deflated slightly. "I'm not."

"I have sex with your friends, and you're fine with that. Also the cashier at the bakery. You didn't mind that at all."

"She gave us a box of muffins for free," said Retta.

"And you-you come home two or three times a week stinking of other guys' sweat, and I don't complain. Or what about the day before yesterday? When those two guys showed up at the door and told you it was International Have Sex With Guys Named Joe Day?"

"I know those guys," said Retta. "I'm pretty sure their names are Bill and Mike."

"And yet you had sex with them anyway. But if I even look at the Queen, you get furious."

She slumped and sat down on the bed next to me. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. Let's just fuck and then go to bed."

"No," I said. "I'm not sleeping with you. You don't respect me as a person. You don't even acknowledge that I am a person."

She gave me an angry look. "You know I can't fall asleep if I don't have an orgasm first."

"Not my problem." And I stuck my nose in my book.

Retta stood up and started to dance.

I tried as hard as I could to get interested in whatever the fuck Aslan was up to that time. But she was hypnotic. Her limbs gyrating, and she slipped one strap of her dress off her shoulder, and then the other, and drew it down, and her beautiful round breasts popped into view. And then the dress was on the floor and she was padding towards me, naked, as my cock swelled until it was so hard I thought it might burst.

Thus ended my sex strike.

She was riding me, her breasts bobbing up and down, my hands on her soft ass. And she bent over so that her breasts were against my chest and her lips brushed my ear, and she moaned. "Oh, Peter. Ohhhh, Peter. You were worth every yen."