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Sex With Robots

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Warren was settled in front of the TV watching X-Files reruns and waiting for Katrina to show up when he heard a scream from Tucker's room. Warren started laughing.

"Warren! Aaaah! Fuck! Warren, you bastard! Help me!" screamed Tucker.

Warren slowly dragged himself off the couch and pushed open the door to Tucker's room. He leaned against the doorway and grinned. "So. Decided to try out fetish_03.gfd, did you?"

"You asshole! You changed it and you didn't tell me! Ow! Stop, April!"

"Well," said Warren, "I didn't think you'd actually use it. You seemed disgusted by the idea."

"Make. Her. Stop."

"I can't do that. She only answers to you, remember?" grinned Warren.

"I tried! April, banana! BANANA!"

"Oh, yeah. I changed the safeword, too. Hmm, now what did I change it too?"

"Fuck! If she destroys my balls, I'm taking yours!"

"You know, my memory gets really poor when I'm threatened," said Warren.

Tucker screamed in agony, and gasped, "Please, Warren! PLEASE!"

"What's wrong? I thought you liked pain."

"Fun pain! Sexy - ow! - pain! Not this! Please - tell me - the safeword! PLEASE!"

"Fine. Since you begged so nicely. 'Eleven benevolent elephants'."

Tucker groaned. "You bastard."

"Gosh, you're just never happy, are you?"

"Eleven belevenent - Fuck! Eneven - Ahh! Ow! Ow! OW!"

Warren winced. "Oh, now that looked nasty."

Tucker gritted his teeth. "Eleven. Be-ne-vo-lent. El-e-phants!"

April stopped what she was doing. "You are not pleased?"

"Let go of me!"

"Yes, Tucker."

He gasped in relief as she let go and climbed off of him. "April, go to sleep." She laid down on the bed and closed her eyes. Tucker groaned. "Ice. I need an ice pack."

"Uh-huh," said Warren, laughing.

"Warren, my balls are hanging by a thread, and it's your fault. Get me a damn ice pack."

"I'm not your fucking servant. Get it yourself."

"I can't," admitted Tucker. "I don't think I can walk."

"Then make April get it."

"No way. She's sleeping until I fix that damn program."

"Too bad." Warren shrugged, and turned to leave the room.

"Wait!" Tucker sighed. "Please, Warren? I really need your help here. C'mon, man! Please?"

Warren rolled his eyes and left the room. But he returned a few minutes later with a plastic bag full of ice, wrapped in a towel. He sat down on the bed and handed it to Tucker.

Tucker winced as he applied the ice to the affected area, but relaxed, and slouched against the headboard of the bed. "You suck, you know."

"You deserved it," replied Warren, leaning back next to Tucker. "Can't you at least put some boxers on?"

"No one deserves that. And I'm never wearing pants again."

"For that shit you pulled at the restaurant? If Katrina wasn't so fucking cool, I would have had to kill you. This is getting off easy," said Warren.

"I'd rather be dead," groaned Tucker. "But yeah, she's cool. Don't get what she sees in you, though."

"Me either," said Warren. He and Tucker grinned at each other. Then Tucker threw his arm around Warren's shoulder.

"Eh, you're not so bad," Tucker said.

"Thanks, man," Warren replied.

"So," said Tucker. "Does Katrina do Fetish Three?"

"Oh, hell no!" said Warren. He lowered his voice. "She does One and Two though."

"Seriously?" asked Tucker. Warren nodded. "Damn! You are one lucky bastard, Warren."

"Don't I know it. Katrina!" he said to his girlfriend, who had just appeared in the doorway.

She stared at them. Tucker was naked and holding an ice pack to his abused genitals with one hand. He had the other arm draped around her boyfriend's shoulder, who was fully clothed and grinning at Tucker. "You know what?" she said. "I don't even want to know." She turned around and left the room.

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