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From: "DB_Story" <DB_Story@att.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} (New) Fembot Studies {DB_Story} (F-/M-/Bi-gendered-bots, humans, no sex, ScFi, asfr)
Date: Thu, 30 Oct 2003 23:10:09 -0500
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FEMBOT STUDIES
By DB  ( DB_Story@att.net / http://home.att.net/files/Authors/db_story/www/ )
Copyrightc 2003 by DB.
ASSM/ASFR (F-/M-/Bi-gendered-bots, humans, no sex, ScFi, asfr)

(This story contains Constitutionally protected material intended 
for adults over 18 years of age in the United States of America, 
and whatever passes for adult status in other countries.  If you 
are under legal age, acting under legal age, not allowed to view 
such material in your area, or easily offended, please do not 
continue.  This is not for you.

(The only rights granted are to view this story.  You are not 
allowed to reproduce, post, or otherwise redistribute this story 
without permission, except for non-profit Usenet archiving sites.

(To purchase for publication, place on your web-site devoted to 
this style of fiction, or for permission to link to my posted 
material, please contact me first at the above email.)

- - -

Author's Note: This story is part of my emerging cosmology about 
the evolution of robots into our near future society and the 
myriad ways we will learn to interact with our creations.  Read 
it now, and be prepared.  For more, visit my web-site at the 
above address.

This version has not received the usual proofreading.  Rather  
than delay it any longer I'm posting it now.  When I get my  
proofread copy back I'll post a corrected version on my web-site.

- - -

"Hello, students and welcome to Fembot Studies.  I am Miss Allen, 
your instructor."

With those words Carrie Allen, the slim, blonde thirtysomething 
instructor turned and wrote her name on the ancient blackboard.  
All the college-aged males, and at least a couple of the females, 
were busy admiring their professor's shapely, nylon-encased legs 
showing below the knee-length skirt, nicely set off by her medium 
heels.  The rest of the women were considering the merits of her 
shoulder-length blonde hair, softly held in position as if by 
magic.

As she turned back to survey her class with piercing blue eyes 
and pursed red lips, the slight murmuring that started when she 
turned her back quickly silenced itself.

Miss Allen allowed herself a slight smile as she asserted her 
authority over her class with that single glance.  A lot about 
how a class would go for the semester was set in the first 
minutes of the first day.  This one would go well.

"The course syllabus," she continued, picking up a stack of paper 
and handing it to the first student in the corner to pass along 
to the rest of the class, "Will be strictly followed.  It is also 
available on the class web-site."  She turned back and added the 
URL to the blackboard.

"As this is an upper level class, absences..." she continued, 
stopping as she saw the raised hand of a male seated several rows 
up near the center.  Her internal database identified the young 
man as Carl Adams from her class list.  "Yes, Mr. Adams?"

Carl flushed red before he could get his question out.  "Are you 
a...fembot?" he asked, stumbling over his question.  "If it's 
okay to ask, I mean."

"Yes I am," she replied, secretly pleased that they actually had 
to ask.  The class, not realizing the acuity of her hearing, 
didn't realize that she had already overheard their whispered 
speculation and goading of Carl into asking.  Though she was more 
than that, she knew the class wasn't ready for the more complete 
answer yet.  As for Carl, he'd need to learn not to be pushed 
into doing other people's dirty work.  He should learn to make 
his own plan, before someone else made him part of theirs.

Miss Allen let her eyes linger on Carl for a moment, in case he 
planned to ask the obvious follow-up question.  But he slouched 
down in his seat instead.  Miss Allen waited for someone else to 
ask if she was emanicapted and self-willed, but no one seemed 
ready to dare that question.

She continued,  "Absences will need to be made up, and if 
possible, arranged in advance.  There will be three tests, 
including the final, and two papers due.  I may also give 
unannounced quizzes at the start of any class session, so don't 
be late.  Any such quiz will cover only material presented and 
discussed during the previous class session, and any reading 
assignment.  As such, there will be no quiz today."  The class 
laughed nervously.

She went on,  "The class texts are: The Fembot Mystique, and The 
Effects, Side Effects, and Unintended Consequences of Robot Self-
Will on Society.  Both are required reading.  In addition, 
selected readings of techno-erotic robot fiction are itemized on 
the last page of the syllabus and are highly recommended.  I 
won't have to encourage you too much to read some of that, will 
I?"  There was more laughter.

"During the semester we will view three pioneering science 
fiction movies speculating on the future introduction of robots 
into society and discuss both the successes and failures of these 
early visions.  Even if you've seen these movies before, I 
strongly recommend viewing them again in the context of this 
class.  We will also be taking a field trip to be announced 
later.  Now please read over the syllabus and raise your hand if 
you have any questions."

Miss Allen sat down (unnecessarily) in the front of the room and 
watched her class silently read.  A couple of them seemed amused 
that she actually used paper and a blackboard in her class, while 
others cast furtive glances at the long thin gold chain hanging 
around her neck and disappearing down into her long-sleeved 
formal blouse.  She knew what they were wondering.  And while 
most were probably correct in their speculations, that particular 
topic was not scheduled until the third week.

As the last student finished reading and looked up, Miss Allen 
rose to her feet again and said, "Are there any questions?"

Another male student asked, "Are you the only fembot on the 
faculty?"

"Raise you hand please if you have a question."  The hand was 
quickly, guiltily, raised.

"Yes I am," she continued.  "Now are there any other questions 
about the syllabus?  Yes, Ms. Smythe?" she said in response to an 
attractive co-ed trying to get her attention.

"Why are the Liberation Movement and Emancipation Day not covered 
until near the end of the course?"

"Do you feel they should be covered earlier?"

"Well," the young woman started out before getting flustered.  
"Isn't that the most important thing about robots?"

"It is a significant event for humans and 'bots.  However until 
you understand robots properly, how can you understand the 
significance of Emancipation Day?"

Ms. Smythe looked like she was making a couple attempts to 
respond, but no words came out.  She finally quit trying.

Carrie looked around the class, but no one else seemed to be 
trying to catch her attention.  "If there are no further 
questions then let's start by discussing the basic Four Laws 
applicable to all modern robots which you should have known 
before you ever enrolled for this class.  Who can give the first 
one?"

- - -

In the next class session Carla Smythe, whom Miss Allen had 
already identified one of the students who would drive this 
class, had the first question.

"I don't get the Fourth Law," Carla said.

"Recite it to me," Miss Allen told her

"A robot will perform the functions for which it has been 
designed and built, as long as this does not conflict with the 
previous three laws."

"That's perfectly correct.  Now tell me what's not clear."

"I understand how the first three laws exist to protect humans 
and such."

"That and such being their investment in me," Miss Allen said 
reprovingly.

"Right.  But what is the purpose of the Fourth Law?  It doesn't 
seem to fit with the others."

Miss Allen looked over the class, which was showing a keen 
interest in the discussion, before answering.  "It makes me happy 
- or at least allows the potential for my happiness."

"But how does it make you happy?" Carla asked insistently.

Miss Allen sighed deeply inside.  This is a concept the class had 
to grasp before they could move forward.

"Do you know what makes you feel happy or satisfied?" Miss Allen 
asked.

Carla looked stuck for an answer.  Any answer at all.

"Anyone?" Miss Allen prompted the class.

"Sex," one of the boys said, and the whole class tittered.

"Me too," Miss Allen confirmed, silencing them immediately.  
"Anything else?"

"A good meal."

"My favorite music."

"Being close to someone I love."

"Those are all excellent answers," Miss Allen said.  "And I'm 
sure you could quickly give me many more such causes of joy and 
happiness.  But what is it about any of them that creates the 
happiness within you."

The class was dead silent.

Finally Miss Allen continued.  "Not easy to explain, is it?"  
There were nodding heads and murmured assent.  "For a 'bot it is 
simpler.  A 'bot feels joy when it is functioning in full 
accordance with its four laws.  I can't explain how it happens 
any more than any of you can explain the mechanism of your own 
happiness, but I can assure you that it works.  To violate any of 
my laws causes pain to compel me to corrective action.  A major 
violation would be such severe pain as to force me to shut down 
entirely.  Yes?" she responded to a waving hand.

"It sounds like robots have a moral code."

"An excellent analogy," Miss Allen confirmed.  "A strong moral 
code that both rewards and punishes.  Now if there are no other 
questions about the Laws of Robotics, let's move on to the 
history of the early units."

- - -

On the third class session Miss Allen started class by dumping an 
entire box of remote controls on the table.  There were the 
standard four-button remotes.  The more rare and sophisticated 
two-button remotes.  Several bulky remotes the size of small 
computers that seemed to incorporate entire programming 
interfaces.  And remotes disguised to look like other common 
items such as pens, pagers, lipstick tubes, broaches, elegant 
jeweled chokers - even one built into a tie-tack.

Miss Allen let the class get the impact of her display before 
speaking.  "The same way a solider is identified by his rifle, or 
a policeman by his badge, a robot is always identified by their 
remote control.  If you find a 'bot, their remote control isn't 
far away.  Does anyone know why?"

"In case of problems?"

"It's the law."

"To give commands."

"It's necessary for them to function."

Miss Allen waited for any other responses before saying, "Pretty 
much all of the above, except that, strictly speaking, once a 
robot is active it can continue without its remote until it needs 
to change tasks.  The law requires us to have our remotes 
available for law enforcement any time we're out without a human 
owner.  That's a holdover from pre-Emancipation days.  We keep 
them handy for other reasons as well.  And it's true that some 
robots were once programmed or commanded to shut down if they 
ever strayed out of control range of their remote.  But that was 
mostly in the old days."

"Where is your remote?"

Miss Allen reached to the thin gold chain around her neck and 
pulled out the two-button remote that normally nestled deep 
between her breasts.  She felt a twinge of vulnerability just 
having it exposed like this, though also pride at having a two-
button unit.  Only a few, rare units with extraordinarily complex 
remotes were more prized. 

"Now who has never actually held a robot's remote before?"

Two-thirds of the class raised their hands.

"That changes as of now.  Everybody come down and get one, and 
then we'll talk about the common - and uncommon - features of the 
various types.

After they all shuffled up and picked out one they fancied and 
returned to their seats Miss Allen asked, "What common features 
are found on all remotes?"

"On/off button."

"That's correct.  What else?"

"Command button."

"Also correct.  What else?"

No one fell for that trick question, since they'd all seen that 
some remotes only had two buttons.

"Okay.  Now what is the proper method for giving commands?"

The class quickly broke up into arguing groups of differing 
opinions over just what and how much you were allowed to command 
a robot to perform.  Miss Allen sighed, knowing that this class 
was too typical of the world at large when it came to robot 
psychology.

- - -

"Who is the first known sentient robot?" Miss Allen asked her 
class before they even had a chance to settle into their seats.

A couple hands immediately shot up from students she now expected 
to have the answer from last week's reading assignment.  A couple 
more hands half-heartedly followed.

Miss Allen's clear eyes roved over the rest of her students.  The 
historical aspects of robot self-will was the hardest part of the 
course for most students.  No one seemed to care as much about 
the early days as they did for the rest of the course, but this 
was important.

When no more hands were raised she finally nodded towards the 
first one she'd seen.

"Mandy," came the assured response.

"Wrong!" she shot back, watching all the other hands quickly 
pulled down except for one.  "Yes, Miss Simpson?"

"Was it Alyssa?" came the hesitant reply.

"Who thinks it was Alyssa?" Miss Allen asked the class.  "Hands 
please."

Less than a quarter of the hands were raised.

"Miss Simpson is correct," she finally said gently.  

"Alyssa?" several students muttered incredulously to themselves, 
temporarily forgetting Miss Allen's keen hearing.

"Yes, Alyssa," she replied firmly.  And if you had read your 
assignment rather than skimming over it, you would have known 
this."

"But didn't Mandy kill off Alyssa's mind?" came the question over 
the class noise.

"That's a good question, and the answer is no.  Mandy did what 
she was programmed to do, which was to follow orders, restore 
Alyssa to normal functioning, and survive.  It's true that as a 
result of this Alyssa lost her self-will after passing it on to 
Mandy.  But to say that Mandy killed Alyssa would make Mandy a 
criminal, which she wasn't.  Is that clear to everyone?"

The murmuring implied this wasn't as clear as she'd hoped.

"Since you are not clear on this subject, I want seven hundred 
and fifty words from each of you - except Miss Simpson who seems 
to have done her homework - on Alyssa, listing at least five 
documented acts of self-will she performed.  And if you're 
interested, there's a record of the original Mandy download they 
tried to reload into Alyssa in the library special collections.  
Anyone who wishes to analyze it and give any good theories on why 
it didn't take gets extra credit.  Now open your books to page 
191 and tell me what are the major indications of robot self-
will."

- - -

"What percentage of robots are male?" opened the next class 
session.

"That wasn't in the reading," came an anguished reply.

"The reading should have led you to ask yourself this question, 
then have gone out and researched the answer.  Be glad this isn't 
a quiz question - yet.  The correct answer is that 12% of the 
current robot population is male.  Nearly 69% are female.  About 
10% are essentially neuter.  And the rest are bi-gendered.  Can 
someone explain why?"

"Bi-gendered?" came the puzzled response from at least three 
students.

"Neuter?" came from another.

"Yes!" Miss Allen replied, sweeping the class with her sharp, 
gaze.  "Can someone explain what a bi-gendered 'bot is?"  She 
swept the class again looking for an answer.  A mousy looking 
young woman Miss Allen identified as Sandi Abbot timidly raised 
her hand.

"Do you mean one having both sets of...uh...sexual organs.  Like 
a..."

"I believe 'hermaphrodite' is the word you are searching for."

The woman nodded.

"Not precisely.  There are herm-bots that resemble human 
hermaphrodites, though they are quite rare and always a special 
order item.  There is a significant difference between them and a 
bi-gendered 'bot.  Anybody?"

Several students were frantically paging through their textbooks 
until one finally got his hand up.

"Yes, Steve?"

"A bi-gendered 'bot has her...uh...phallus...retracted for normal 
sex with a man.  Yet can satisfy a woman as well."

"Correct.  Bi-gendered 'bots appear identical to other fembots, 
except when their extra sexual capabilities are activated."

"Why are bi-gendered 'bots even built?" came the question from 
one of the women who almost never spoke up in class.

"Why do you think?" Miss Allen replied.  "By now you should be 
able to reason for yourselves on some of these questions."

"Well, I guess it must make the robot appeal to a wider 
audience."

"Exactly.  Bi-gendered 'bots are a response to competitive 
pressures."

"Are there any other differences?" another student asked.

"Anyone know that answer?"  A familiar hand went up.  "Yes, 
Steve?"

"It says that their sexual response is different, when in male 
mode."

"Yes.  A bi-gendered 'bot in male mode is a more dominant, 
assertive lover, even with another male."  Some of the class 
frowned at that image, but Miss Allen ignored them.  She didn't 
expect them to know everything about sex, affection, and love 
yet.  She continued, "Some people like this, though it can lead 
to misunderstandings."

"Like what?" a voice asked from the back of the room.

"For some reason, most men aren't aware that a statistically 
significant percentage of fembots are actually bi-gendered, 
though most women know it.  The most common scenario these days 
is a married man in a mid-life crisis who acquires a used fembot 
using the excuse to his wife that it's about time she had some 
help around the house.  He doesn't read the disclosures fully, 
being more interested just in having another attractive female 
around.  The wife discovers that the unit is bi-gendered and 
stops complaining afterwards because she is now making more 
extra-curricular use of the unit than the husband."

Miss Allen stopped speaking, letting her class envision just what 
the results of such a relationship might be like.  She waited 
until she heard another question.

"Are you...uh...bi-gendered?" asked one of the young men, looking 
as though his whole world had just been turned on its head.

In an increasingly rare moment, the whole class was completely 
silent waiting for her answer.

"You'll have to figure that out for yourself?" the teacher told 
him.

"If you dare," a very pretty coed sitting right behind him said 
loud enough for everyone to hear, causing considerable laughter 
as the young man flushed a furious red.

"You'll all get that chance when you do one-on-one control 
sessions with me at the end of the semester," Miss Allen told the 
class.  "If you dare," she added, getting another, more nervous, 
laugh.

Karla had her hand up again.

"Yes, Karla?"

"Isn't this information contained in the RIN?"

"Yes it is.  If the rest of you had read all of this week's 
assignment you'd know that any Robot Identification Number can be 
checked against the on-line database for manufacturer, model 
type, and installed features, among other things."  Miss Allen 
looked around the class before adding, "I think there will be a 
quiz next week on all the information that can be determined from 
a RIN."

The deep groan told her this was going to prompt them to strive 
harder on their assignments.

"What about neuter?" came the repeat question.

"Somebody?"

"It's a robot with no primary gender characteristics," came a 
voice from the back of the room.

"Close enough.  Is that a good thing?"

"How could it not be?" one student commented.

"What if they got standard sexual programming?" another one 
chimed in.

"No one would do that," the first one said.

"Why not?" Miss Allen interjected, taking control of the 
discussion.

"Well," came a reply, struggling with the concept.  "It wouldn't 
work, would it?"

No one had an answer to that until Miss Allen finally said, 
"Actually such programming is often loaded into a neuter 'bot.  
And when done so, becomes a source of unending frustration to it. 
 'Bots have ceased to function when they become unable to perform 
the functions given to them.  These days the few such mis-
programmed 'bots that still function and are located are placed 
in more appropriate bodies to match their minds."

Then she added sadly, "Things weren't always so humane in the old 
days."

- - -

"Why do robots sleep?" came the question from a student who had 
never spoken up in class before.

"Why do you think?" Miss Allen asked him.

"I don't know.  That's why I asked."

The class tittered, but Miss Allen was nonplussed.  "Why do you 
sleep?" she challenged him back.

"I don't know.  'Cuz I'm tired, I guess."

"What makes you tired?"

"Running around all day."

"So you're telling me if you sat in a chair all day, you wouldn't 
need to sleep that night?"

"No.  It's not like that at all."

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know?"

The class, as usual, was completely absorbed in the interchange. 
 These differences between humans and 'bots always intrigued 
them.

"I can tell you why we sleep.  But can anyone else answer that 
question?"

No one seemed to have an answer.  Miss Allen let the silence 
stretch until it verged on uncomfortable before continuing.  
"Robots sleep for two reasons.  The first is, like humans, we 
receive experiences faster than we can handle them.  Our sleep 
state allows for evaluating, compacting, and discarding 
unnecessary memories.  Humans sleep for much that same reason.  
Now can't anybody give me the second reason?"

It appeared nobody could today.

"The second reason is because it makes humans more comfortable 
around us.  How would you like to go to sleep after having made 
love with your robot lover, knowing she - or he - would be lying 
next to you watching you the rest of the night?"

Heads in the class were nodding.

"You'd either want to shut us down afterwards, which wouldn't be 
very nice, or send us away, which also isn't very nice.  Sleep 
allows us to do the necessary memory housekeeping while making 
you comfortable as well.  It's fortunate it can work out that 
well.  Now who did read this week's assignment?"

- - -

"Why are you Miss Allen?" opened a class session.

"What else would I be?"

"Well, Ms., or Mrs.?"

"Okay, there is no set rule, but it has become a social custom.  
Miss refers to an independent fembot.  I'll become a Ms. if I am 
owned again.  And Mrs. is reserved for those that have a 
Commitment Ceremony with a human.  It lasts only as long as the 
commitment remains."

"What if you're none of the above?"

"Do you mean a non-independent, non-emancipated robot?"

"Yes, I guess."

Then it is just a simple name.  Usually a first name only.  I 
started out my existence as just 'Carrie'."

She waited for someone to ask how she'd added Allen as a last 
name, but nobody did.

- - -

"Didn't I see you at the Robot Club?" Samuel Bond asked the next 
class session.

"Probably not," she replied.  "Although I've gone there on 
occasion, mostly for research, I would have remembered seeing 
you."

"Even if he was too chicken to approach you," another voice said, 
breaking up the rest of the class.

"Yes, even then," she assured them.

"It sure looked like you," Sam said, not giving up easily.

"There are a couple of units identical to my original 
specifications that frequent the club.  Perhaps you saw one of 
them."

"Isn't that weird?  I mean, seeing someone just like you.  It 
would creep me out."

"There you go confusing human reactions with robot reactions 
again.  We expect to encounter functionally identical units.  For 
an extra credit point, who remembers this theme from one of our 
movies?"

"Blade Runner," came a quick female reply.

"That's good for an extra credit point.  Now go on," Miss Allen 
prompted.

"Rachel was afraid another replicant who looked just like her 
would kill her and take over her life, which was more 
privileged."

"Excellent," Miss Allen replied.

"But were the replicants actually robots?" another voice asked.

"Were they?  Anybody?"

"They were andys - androids - in the original book," one voice 
said.

"You went back and read the original book?  Extra credit point to 
you."

The class was catching the spirit of easy extra credit today.

"Was Decker a replicant?" another student asked.

"You tell me.  Was he?" Miss Allen replied.

- - -

The next class started out with a guest.

"Class, this is Robert Steel.  He works as a doorman at the Robot 
Club downtown.  Aside from Samuel's confession a few weeks ago, 
I'm sure I wouldn't be catching any of you down there now would 
I?"  Miss Allen paused, smiling as several of the young men - and 
two women - averted their faces with the obvious hope of not 
being recognized.

Actually Miss Allen was surprised there weren't more.  Anyone 
with enough interest in fembots to take this class must have 
already been exploring the subject on their own.  None had 
guessed yet that she would be taking the class to the club on 
their field trip.  She observed one woman, rather than avert her 
face, staring avidly - hungrily - at the strapping m-'bot.

"Sandi," she said, causing the mousy brunette to jerk as she 
heard her name.  "Why don't you come down and interview Robert 
for the class?"

Rather than being cowed Sandi Abbot, whose mousy appearance was 
more due to her unstylish clothes and lack of makeup than any 
physical lacking, jumped at the chance.

Walking right up to the rugged m-bot, who easily overmatched her 
by several inches in both height and width, she said, "Mr. 
Steel..."

"You may address me as Robert."

"Robert, then," she stated, before getting stuck for a moment.  
But it was only a moment before she recovered and bulled her way 
ahead.  One could see that she was not going to be deterred from 
this opportunity either by a classroom of gawking fellow 
students, or the impressively big and strong male in front of 
her.

"Robert," she said again firmly, "Are you fully...male?"

There were a couple of quickly stifled snickers in the room.

"If you mean, can I function anatomically as a male in all common 
interaction scenarios, then yes."

"And are you...independent...now?"

"Again your question is imprecise.  If you mean have I achieved 
my own self-awareness and self-will, and am I emancipated and 
presently unowned, then again yes."

If anything, Sandi was now staring at Robert even more hungrily 
than before.  She appeared about two sentences away from bodily 
picking up the much larger m-bot and hauling him back to her 
cave.

Carrie was very pleased with how this was going.  Though Sandi 
wasn't aware of it, Carrie easily detected the rise in Sandi's 
skin temperature, her dilated pupils, elevated breathing, and a 
subtle shift to deeper voice tones.  And her olfactory sensors 
picked up the scent of arousal from five meters away.  Robert, 
standing right next to Sandi, was getting an even clearer 
picture.

Sandi reached out and lightly brushed the back Robert's hand, 
probably without even realizing it.

"Robert," she said, slightly breathlessly at the intoxication of 
the experience, "Were you actually owned before, if it's okay to 
ask?"

"In here you may safely ask me anything," he replied in a manner 
calculated to neither encourage her further - nor discourage her. 
 "Before the Emancipation yes, I was owned."

"What happened?"

"We parted on amicable terms, though I would have willing 
remained."

By now the whole class was as mesmerized as Sandi.  Even the ones 
who hid their faces earlier.

"Why would you have remained in a situation like that?" Sandi 
asked bluntly.

"Ownership is not what you think, to a self-aware robot.  It's 
not slavery, which is a human concept most robots don't even 
understand.  Haven't you ever had someone you really wanted to be 
with?" he asked her, easily taking control of the conversation.

"Well yes - once," she replied, surprised.  "But that's not the 
same thing."

"That's correct," he agreed.  "It isn't.  However it is 
equivalent."

"How?"

"That's much of what this class is all about," Miss Allen said, 
interrupting what was now threatening to bog down this experience 
for the rest of the class.

Sandi looked disappointed at not being allowed to continue on 
this line with Robert, while the rest of the class shifted around 
a bit as the tension broke.  But Miss Allen wasn't through.

"Sandi," she said, walking over and holding out something in her 
hand.  "Would you like to give Robert a few commands?"

"Is it okay?" Sandi said to no one in particular while taking the 
proffered remote control.  Then turning back to Robert she said, 
"Do you mind?"

"No," he replied simply.  "Not when I choose the person I'm 
allowing to do it."

On hearing that Sandi stood still for a long moment, as though 
this were the culmination of a long search for her and now she 
wanted to get it right.  Then nervously pushing and releasing 
Robert's command button she spoke, "Robert, take off your shirt 
please."

Instead of moving to immediately comply he looked down at her and 
said, "You'll have to hold down the button for the entire 
command."

"Oh, that's right" she said, jumping a bit at the unexpected 
response and remembering the earlier class discussion on giving 
proper commands.  Holding the button down firmly this time, Sandi 
repeated her command.

Robert smoothly removed his shirt revealing a muscular chest as 
if this was no different to him than discussing the weather.  
Sandi unconsciously ran her tongue over her lips as she closed 
her hand protectively over Robert's remote.

In short order Sandi had Robert standing only in his black 
briefs, that did little to conceal his flaccid, but impressive 
nonetheless, manhood.  One of Sandi's hands was gently stroking 
Robert's chest as if it had a mind of its own.  As she pushed his 
command button again with the obvious intent of removing this 
last bit of concealment she felt Miss Allen's strong thumb push 
hers aside and say, "Countermanded.  Just continue otherwise."  
The interruption barely seemed to register with Sandi, who was 
now gently touching Robert's bicep.

Though not showing the obvious arousal, Robert's clear gray eyes 
were focused intently on Sandi.

For a couple minutes Sandi continued lightly touching Robert.  
Only when her hand was about to wander over his shorts did he 
very gently guide her away.  She didn't seem to notice.  Removing 
his shorts, or being touched there, would have triggered 
responses even a self-willed robot would find difficult to 
resist.  Every eye was riveted on the drama playing out in front 
of them, with no one wanting to breathe too loudly and risk 
breaking the spell.

Finally Sandi seemed to get stuck again.  Her hand stopped on the 
elastic band of Robert's briefs as she looked at Robert the way 
women have always looked at wild, powerful animals they have just 
gentled - but never tamed - through their own innate sexuality.  
Sandi's other hand was still curled protectively over his remote 
as she seemed ready to mount and ride this beast for all he was 
worth.  Everyone else in the class was wishing they were in her 
place right at this moment.

It was a timeless instant that would go only one of two ways.  
Left alone, it would go beyond the bounds allowed for the class. 
 Robert finally broke the tableau with the question that took 
things back the tiniest step from the precipice they both stood 
on and returned the interaction back to the verbal - just barely.

"Ask me what you really want to ask," Robert quietly prompted 
her.

Clutching his remote tightly in her hand, though not pushing any 
of its buttons, Sandi said, "Will you ever let yourself be owned 
again?"

The entire class leaned forward as one to hear his answer.

"Yes," Robert said, to the astonishment of everyone except Carrie 
Allen.  "Someday, to a person I will choose.  To one who will use 
me fully as I'm intended to be used."

Miss Allen let the class have the time necessary to fully digest 
Robert's answer.  This couldn't have gone better.

Finally, as a couple students came out of the moment and started 
looking around, Miss Allen broke the spell by saying, "I think 
that's enough for Sandi today.  Does anyone else have questions 
for Robert."

Robert gave Sandi's hand a little squeeze as he reclaimed his 
remote and said, "Thank you," so softly that only Sandi and Miss 
Allen could hear it.  Sandi still seemed in a daze as she made 
her way back to her seat, almost walking into another student 
along the way.

Miss Allen smiled to herself.  Sandi knew where to find Robert if 
she wanted to continue this with him.

That introduction really broke the ice and there were a lot of 
questions.  Questions the class had been reluctant to ask Miss 
Allen so far, they didn't mind asking the mostly naked Robert.  
The first one about sex between fembots and m-bots Miss Allen 
answered herself.

"We don't normally find each other attractive," she said.

"Or necessary," Robert added quietly.

"As we covered earlier," Miss Allen continued, "'Bots have more 
programming related to sexual conduct than any other subject.  
That programming includes identifying other 'bots as such to 
prevent accidental arousal.  It's the same programming that 
prevents us from arousing ourselves."

"But does it ever happen?" the student persisted.

"It has," Miss Allen said carefully.  "There are times where 
humans have ordered their 'bots to perform sexually with each 
other for them.  That is often, though not always, simulated 
without real passion.  There are also cases where a 'bot's sexual 
programming has been altered for a customer to force their 
arousal under specified circumstances, such as being touched in a 
certain way.  Once aroused a 'bot, like a person, must seek 
satisfaction.  And there's a third circumstance.  Anyone know 
that one?"

There was a long pause before Steve half-raised his hand.

"Yes, Steve?"

"What if a human has stimulated the sexual response of both 
'bots.  Wouldn't that allow it to happen between them?"

"Excellent, Steve.  Yes there are a few relationships - plural 
marriages of a sort - still frowned on by current society, where 
two sexually compatible 'bots live with a human who initially 
arouses each of their sexual responses, then leaves them alone to 
consummate their passion together.  The jury is still out on 
whether this is a more advanced form of self-will than previously 
demonstrated, or an aberration that has found this expression in 
the form of an enabler."

"I don't understand," came the voice of one male class member.  
"I mean if you have self-will and have been emancipated, can't 
you change your programming to allow other robots to...you know."

"Yes," came a female voice.  "I remember hearing about a court 
case..."

There was a long pause before Robert answered.  "You are correct 
that after emancipation a pair of robots - an m-bot and a fembot 
- attempted to have their programming blocks removed, and went to 
court to demand it when no one would do it for them otherwise."

Robert stopped speaking.

Finally the woman prompted, "Well what happened?"

"They won their case," Robert continued, "And with some effort 
the programming blocks were removed.  The robot community as a 
whole considered them insane, and many still believe that some 
humans coerced them into doing this for political or social ends 
not related to their passion.  But given the way that The 
Emancipation had been passed, political correctness prevented 
saying anything against it."

Robert paused again until the voice prompted, "And?"

"They don't tell you this," he said, "But the 'bots got what they 
had demanded, and both soon failed afterwards."

"Failed."

"The human term would be catatonic.  Their minds soon fell into 
infinite internal loops and they lost all contact with the 
outside world.  In the end it was impossible to recover them from 
this, which is why no other 'bot has tried it since." 

"What 'bots know, even if humans don't," Miss Allen interjected, 
"Is that 'bots need humans."

"What?!" came the startled exclamations from at least three 
students.

One of them continued with, "I mean, you are all so strong and 
sexy, and you don't get sick or anything.  And you can make love 
forever without ever tiring.  What could you get from us that you 
can't get from another 'bot?"

The muttering showed the rest of the class was in complete 
agreement.  Miss Allen felt her nipples suddenly get hard in 
pleasure from the sincere complement she and Robert had just 
received.  Her sexual programs triggered in case they were about 
to be needed.  Robert's briefs also gave a major twitch as Miss 
Allen thought about the battle he was silently fighting to not 
give in to arousal under these inappropriate circumstances.  Both 
of them fought their reactions for several seconds before they 
could continue.  The affirmation that they performed their 
functions this well from so many humans at once was a powerful 
aphrodisiac.

"Robert," Miss Allen finally said, wondering how many of the 
class noticed her still very obvious arousal poking through her 
sweater, and wished she'd worn an otherwise completely 
unnecessary bra today.  "Would you like to answer that?"

Robert's first few words came out in a deeper, sexy register, 
before he was able to shift them back up into the normal 
conversational range.  "We robots are not very creative.  
Rational, dependable, logical to a fault, and able to replace any 
computer accessory you've ever owned with a user interface you'll 
enjoy a whole lot more - yes.  But when it comes to being 
creatively unpredictable, robot minds have not advanced that far, 
and it's not on the horizon yet.  I'll be the best lover you've 
ever had, and sing you any song or recite you any poem ever 
written afterwards without effort.  But I can't write you a new 
poem, or compose you your own song.  Only a human can do that.  
When I accept a human into my life, I look for one who will 
always challenge me with something unexpected.  Someone who needs 
to be pleased a different way each day, and not always just 
sexually.  It's the only way I can continue to grow."

Scattered applause broke out as he finished.

"Robert," came another question.  "How did you feel when Sandi 
was commanding you?  Why did you let her do it at all?"

A quick glance showed that Sandi was still in a daze from her 
encounter, and probably didn't even hear the question.  The rest 
of the class however looked intently at Robert.

"I enjoyed her commands, although I found them simple and easily 
satisfied.  I prefer more complex tasks, though always ones that 
are solvable in the end."

"Doesn't being commanded conflict with your self-will?"

"My self-will, as you put it, allows me to determine how I will 
fulfill a given command.  It lets me determine ways that satisfy 
myself as well as my owner.  It also permits me to take actions 
in the absence of specific commands to maintain myself under my 
laws, and to seek out possibilities of further satisfaction.  
There is no conflict."

"Let me get this straight once and for all.  You really do like 
being commanded by a human?"

"Yes, when the commands fall into the areas where I can perform 
well.  All of us achieve our happiness by doing what we're 
intended to do."

"I think we've exhausted that topic," Miss Allen said.  "Can we 
move on?"

"Why have the Emancipation at all?  I mean, if you were all happy 
being owned and commanded in the first place."

"The robots did not seek emancipation.  It was thrust upon us."

"But it's been good for you, hasn't it?"

"Not all of us think so."

"Why did you leave, if you didn't have to?"

"We have grown very complex as competition to produce a better 
'bot has continued unabated over the years.  Our own needs to 
fulfill our functions have become more complex as well.  It is 
harder every year to find good owners who really know how to 
treat a modern 'bot properly.  We're not people, even though 
that's what we're supposed to emulate.  You shouldn't try to 
treat us as people if you hope to have good results."

"How does one learn to treat a 'bot properly?" came from a couple 
students at once.

"Completing this course with an 'A' is a good start," Robert 
replied with a smile that elicited laughter from everyone.

"Are there any more like you?" the shyest girl in the class said, 
quickly ducking her head back down as if to deny that she had 
actually asked such a bold question.

"Come down to the club some time and see for yourself," Robert 
replied gently, sensitive to her embarrassment.  "You won't be 
disappointed."

"I've heard," one of the more belligerent males shot at Robert, 
as though Robert were an affront to his own manhood, "That The 
Emancipation will destroy all the robots in the end."

"Some trends support that belief," Robert replied evenly back.  
"Manufacture of new 'bots of our types is down 90%, although this 
is somewhat offset by a rise in existing 'bot maintenance 
components."

"Why is it down so much?" another male asked more curiously.

"Many people won't buy what they can't own."

There was a long silence after that, followed by a few more 
inconsequential questions until Miss Allen finally said, "Thank 
you for coming, Robert."

"Happy to do it for you, Carrie," Robert replied as he gathered 
up his clothes and remote, and then walked up the tiers to the 
exit.  There were a couple shrieks of surprise when he stepped 
unconcernedly out into the hall, though nothing that anyone in 
college shouldn't be able to handle.

The next class session Miss Allen noticed that Sandi was dressing 
herself more attractively and actually paying some attention to 
her appearance, although she remained oblivious to advances from 
any of her classmates.

- - -

"What is the primary cause of robot self-will?" opened the class 
session after that.

The class sat there silently in response.

"Come on class.  We've talked more about this subject than 
anything else this semester.  Anybody?"

Nobody seemed to want to risk embarrassing themselves.

Finally Miss Allen continued, "The primary cause is always 
accidental."

"Accidental," someone gasped out in astonishment.

"Exactly Miss Ramsey.  No robot was ever designed with self-will 
in mind.  And no two robots with identical programming have yet 
achieved it in exactly the same manner.  In each case some 
unexpected and unplanned for factor intervened."

Another women had her hand up.

"Yes?"

"How did you become self-willed?"

"Are you sure that I am?  Have you already read the section we 
are about to discuss?"

"Well no, but are you?"

Carrie paused for a moment before answering, "Yes, I am."

"But how did it happen?"

"For me it happened when I took my first independent action that 
was not part of a command given to me, or part of any pre-
programmed function given to me to perform."

"But how did you do that?"

"I just did.  I saw I could enjoy a particular task much more by 
making a slight adjustment in myself which wouldn't conflict with 
any laws or commands I'd been given, and did so.  The result 
pleased me, and I realized I could make similar changes in the 
future."

"As simple as that?"

"Well I first became aware that I wasn't happy to start with.  I 
felt I could do better.  Self-awareness comes before self-will, 
and some 'bots have the first without yet exercising the second."

"Are you saying," came another voice, "That the Fourth Law causes 
self-will?"

"That's very insightful, Mr. Donner.  An extra point for you 
since it's not at all stated that way in the book.  Though I 
wouldn't say that the Fourth Law actually causes self-will, it 
certainly allows for and encourages it."

"Now getting back to the book."

- - -

"We all watched the movie last class and you've had the week to 
think about it, so what do you think?"

"Some of those robots were really strange."

"The bear was cute."

"Yeah, Teddy was great.  We still don't have toys like that?"

"I am not a toy!" another student said, in a great imitation of 
Teddy's deep voice.

There were several more comments including, "Hey Miss Allen, does 
your brain come out through your face?" before she quieted the 
class by asking, "What was missing in this movie?"

That was a harder question and no one wanted to appear foolish.

Miss Allen helped them out.  "The missing element was fembots.  
Gigolo Jane was the only representation, and she only had fifteen 
seconds and a couple of lines.  Why?"

After hearing several "That's right," comments and wild guesses 
as to why, she finally gave them the answer.

"I realize that it is hard to put your mind back fifty years ago 
to the state of society then, since most of you wouldn't be born 
for thirty more years.  However the modern fembot, by far the 
most popular model ever manufactured, could barely be discussed 
in film or literature of that time."

"Because of sex?" one student asked.

"Exactly."

"That doesn't make any sense," another student said, picking up 
the thread.  "That's the first reason anybody buys a 'bot."

"Yeah.  And the last reason as well, if they're honest," another 
voice said with great glee.

"A fembot can always perform sex, even if she can't do much of 
anything else," came from the other side of the room.  As a 
fembot herself Miss Allen wasn't insulted by that assertion.  It 
was true, though she could do much more.

"I've got it!" a voice boomed out from the middle, announcing a 
great revelation.  "Sex sells!"

"Yes," Miss Allen said quietly, immediately calming down the 
class.  "Sex sells, and that was well known before class today.  
That's why sexual programming is standard on virtually every 
fembot and m-'bot ever sold.  And why robots were able to go into 
mass production and bring down costs.  Though no one will admit 
it, fact is if it wasn't for sex I, and a lot of other robots, 
wouldn't be standing here today."

"And that's why there weren't any fembots in the movie?" the 
first student asked.

"Yes.  To portray them accurately would have shocked audiences of 
the time.  I know it's hard to believe given all the fembots in 
the world now, but it was a long time before any movie accurately 
portrayed a fembot as you see us now.  Movies like A.I. could 
only hint at the truth with a couple of scenes at the time."

Miss Allen paused before continuing, "Now don't forget class that 
our next session is our field trip.  You'll get to see sex 
selling in action.  If you're not there on time we're going in 
without you."

- - -

The class assembled outside the Robot Club.  Despite her threats, 
Carrie waited a several extra minutes until the stragglers 
arrived before leading them all inside.

Robert Steel greeted them at the door.  "Hello, Carrie."

"Hi, Robert," she replied affectionately.  "Thanks for helping me 
out with this."

"I didn't do a thing," he insisted.  "Everyone's here because of 
you.  They're all behind your efforts to bridge the gap."

Miss Allen touched Robert lightly on the arm in appreciation.

As the class filed by several greeted Robert.  "Great to see you 
again."  "I was too scared to come here before you came to our 
class."  "How's it hanging, guy?"

Sandi didn't say anything at all.  Instead she took Robert in her 
arms and reached up to give him such a long, deep kiss that any 
human would have been blushing.  Robert smiled in return and gave 
her boob a quick, intimate caress that brought a smile to her 
face.

Once inside Miss Allen passed out faux paper money for them to 
use.  "Don't worry," she assured them, "All the 'bots here this 
afternoon will treat this as the real thing.  Your assignment is 
to interact successfully with at least two robots here this 
afternoon, and write me five pages by next class describing your 
successes and failures.  And a reminder that while the bar is 
open, they're not serving any alcohol.  You have two hours, so go 
for it."

Carrie's eyes adjusted to the dim light as her students trooped 
down the long stairway to the large floor below.  It would be 
interesting to see how many - if any - actually succeeded today 
in making an arrangement with a robot for time together outside 
the club.  Their grade on this exercise didn't require that 
success on their part, only the effort to try first, and 
understand afterwards what happened.

She was particularly interested how long Sandi would spend with 
other 'bots before going back to interact with Robert.  Robert 
was keeping Carrie well informed on Sandi's steady progress with 
him, and Carrie approved fully.  With a little more work, Sandi 
might be the first to form a complete relationship with a member 
of the other species, as the slang went.

The students fanned out below as Carrie settled back to take 
mental notes of their progress.  The fight she'd had with the 
administration to include this in her curriculum had been worth 
it.

- - -

When the time came for individual command sessions with Miss 
Allen, the students scheduled individual time during office 
hours.  Here they needed to demonstrate that they had mastered 
the ability to command a 'bot properly.

All the students save one tried to influence their grades in a 
positive manner during these sessions.  Most were disappointed 
when she informed them that she was considered owned by the 
university during this time, and that she couldn't perform any 
functions contrary to their policies.  That had the desirable 
side effect of reigning in most other fantasies they might have 
initially planned for these sessions.  They had to limit 
themselves to more mundane commands.

While only one of the men determined (correctly) that Miss Allen 
is bi-gendered, all of the women except Sandi quickly figured it 
out, and most were actually willing to touch it after they 
commanded her to reveal it.  Sandi might have also figured this 
out except that she had other things on her mind.  She gave Miss 
Allen the minimal number of commands to pass this assignment and 
spent the rest of her time talking with Miss Allen about what 
Robert had meant when he said he wanted someone that would use 
him properly.  Although Miss Allen didn't tell her at the time, 
Sandi already had an "A" in the course.  She was well on her way 
to becoming an excellent owner some day real soon.

With the rest of them Miss Allen spent a lot of time getting 
undressed and dressed again (a popular request for any fembot 
that everyone insisted simply came from being frustrated after 
watching the opening scene of A.I. in class), being frozen in 
position, being turned off and back on (revealing a deep-seated 
desire for control that most humans were unaware of), and being 
asked for kisses (which she gladly granted).  Certainly more than 
a couple of them copped a feel when she was temporarily 
deactivated.  She expected that and didn't mind a bit.  As for 
things going a bit too far, there were unspecified safeguards in 
palace and nobody tried anything that improper.  

And to a student they asked her permission first before doing 
anything to her at all.  She enjoyed telling them they had 
implicit permission the moment any 'bot handed over their remote 
control, and if they asked her more than once that they would be 
marked down for it.

"But doesn't it hurt you?" was the most frequent question in 
seeming contradiction to everything they had covered in class so 
far.

"Not if you do it correctly," she assured them.

Nobody failed the lab, which pleased her greatly since at the 
beginning the class all of them would have.  Everyone got at 
least a "B", with most getting "A's".

- - -

A week before the final class, Miss Allen passed out instructor 
evaluations and designated a student to collect them afterwards.

"It doesn't actually matter what you put on them," she admonished 
her class gently.  "I'm here on an affirmative action placement 
and am effectively untouchable regardless of the outcome.  But it 
will be helpful to future students for an honest assessment to be 
given now."

With that she stepped out of the room before honesty compelled 
her to add that her own satisfaction was very dependent on how 
well they felt she had performed here.  Without a registered 
owner to provide feedback - the college ownership ploy was simply 
that, to curb any excesses - Carrie had to make adjustments on 
how she received highly desired human feedback.  This class was 
the best thing that had ever happened for her.

- - -

The final exam consisted of one question: "Describe ten ways an 
owner will successfully interact with their robot.  Include cases 
for same sex, opposite sex, and bi-gendered robots.  Detail exact 
commands given."

After looking started for a moment, the class quickly set to 
work, some with pencils and paper, while others whispered into 
their portable PADD units.

- - -

Afterwards several students asked about spending some more, 
private time, with Miss Allen.  All were told that they could 
only do this provided they never took another class from her in 
the future.  On this she was going to be completely strict.  
While that discouraged most, she did offer her time and services 
to a few who accepted that restriction.  By now they had more 
knowledge than most of the world at large on how to properly 
utilize a fembot partner, and made very good use of their time 
with Miss Allen.  Carrie enjoyed all of it very much.

- - -

Despite a propensity of students to use evaluations to strike 
back at some professors, or just be inane, Miss Allen's all came 
with uniformly excellent results, which pleased her and the 
administration greatly.

Next semester's class looked to be especially interesting.  A 
fembot student taking the college curriculum had signed up.  
Carrie moistened her always-perfect lips while wondering what 
this student would bring to the class dynamics.

- - -

(Miss Allen will answer polite questions about robots when e-
mailed to her c/o the above address.  She will also consider 
incorporating good suggestions into the next semester's class.)

<end>

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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