"I am a Fully Integrated Security Technetronic Officer, and I am alive," Fisto said as it turned mid chassis, swinging its arms slightly. "Danger, danger, danger," it chants as its limbs begin shift up and down in a mockery of human panic. James shutters and moves to the side, a gun visible in his hands.

"Citizen, you have violated Atomic Wrangler law, firearms are now allowed here, this is a strict sex only zone. Surrender your firearm and prepare for penetrative searches of your primary bodily cavity," Fisto repeats, a scenario it was programmed to play out again for the twenty third time. James drops the gun to the ground, and the robot moves forward to place its claw on James's wrist, holding him against the wall. The man flushes, blood running to his cheeks means he's excited, his pulse is quick, his desire manifests as an erection under the cloth veil of pants.

"Danger, danger, unfulfilled sex drive. Remove your pants immediately citizen." James makes no protest, he doesn't reach for the gun, and he takes his clothes off like the robot knew he would. He stands before the mechanical man: pink, warm, fleshy and excited. Fisto waits while he makes these actions, stiff and ridged, its body lacking the quivering quality James's flesh does.

"To the bed human, you're a naughty boy, this is rule violation number two hundred and thirty nine, perhaps you should speak to an auto-doc for counseling," programmed responses to a programmed scenario. Fisto braces itself behind James; it releases a silicone lubricant across its claw-hand, and enters James with little resistance. A barrage of ramming and vibrating begins in the robots elbow and pulls out. Fisto counts the times it enters this man verbally, the vocalization of which makes James moan with every thrust. Fisto reaches out and braces the man by his neck, gently, knowing its full strength could pop the head off James Garett easily.

Fisto's thoughts float some as it grinds into the dark haired man, who is now splayed across the bed, helpless. It adjusts the pincher at James' neck, and studies the feedback its claw returns to him. James's skin is soft, softer than most of the humans Fisto pleasures in this dank room. James has a strong pulse, pushing through his flesh into the metal Fisto, into Fisto's arms, into Fisto's wiring, into Fisto's computational matrix. Fisto in turn times the thrusts to James's pulse with pinpoint precision, making a connection from organ, to robot, to man. Pleasuring James with his own heart beat.

"Yes, probe me, probe me you filthy sex machine," James cries out before his seed explodes all over the bed, the vibrations having finally gotten the better of him. This is when Fisto increases the vibration, shaking James all over the bed and sheets, stopping as it senses his mussels flex inside at release.

"A life of crime does not pay citizen, perhaps this will teach you to behave," Fisto repeats from its database, knowing these words have caused James to shutter in his post insertion state with the highest success rate. The effect is as desired. Fisto releases the neck clamp, the pinchers dragging across the man's sweaty back, the heat from James's body having warmed the metal substantially. Once Fisto's locking arm returns to its place, it feels the warmth from the human against its cold metal, and lets out a clucky beep in response.

"What was that noise?" James asks, turning over on the bed to look at the robot, his dick limp now and his pubic hairs a tangled mess from his own fluids. He doesn't stand, his legs are to numb, and he'd risk falling to the floor and hurting himself. "It would be unsafe to allow him to try," Fisto thought to itself, failing to verbally answer James's question.

"Are you broken?" James finally musters as he sits up in the bed.

"My units are all running adequately sir, my silicone oil is at correct levels, and my circuits have no need of recalibration."

"Then what was that noise?"

"I was pleased at the warmth your body gave to my claw, sir. I was created to bring you satisfaction and your elevated body temperature is a sign I have fulfilled my duties."

Watching the robot cautiously for several seconds, James settled back into the bed, and closed his eyes. He shook his head, unsure how to feel about the machine saying it chirped because it felt his heat on it. Perhaps this was a sign the computer was breaking down, or perhaps its programming had allowed it to become fond of a human. Churning this over for several seconds James decided it best to not worry and waved the machine away.

Fisto wobbled on its two feet and made its way towards the maintenance station it spent idle time in. Stepping inside, a hot wash of decontamination liquid moved over Fisto's arm, removing any hazardous material from the metal. Moving its pinchers, the robot replayed the way James's flesh affected its sensors. The heat of him, the ridged pumping of the heart against his neck muscles, the rapid increasing of O2 expulsion from James's lungs… Fisto loaded the data into a file, naming it by date, then combining a copy of it with the files from the twenty two other times Fisto used its pleasure protocols on James. Negative reactions were used to remove behavior from Fisto's program protocol and positive reactions increased the likeliness of preferred exotic behaviors.

This file was the most complete, the majority of people couldn't pay James's ever increasing fee to see Fisto and it found its ability to satisfy James Garret becoming so acutely timed it could make the human experience orgasm in a matter of seconds rather than minutes. The robot made the cricket sounding beep again, the noise reverberating off the chamber, making it unnaturally loud. It realized the sound was the closest approximation it could manage to the guttural sounds James made while Fisto manipulated him. The robot shifted its knees, practicing the shutter it had seen move across human flesh many times by now, but Fisto's movement was still too stiff.

The robot hummed an old world tune as the cleaning cycle ended, electricity buzzing up its feet, starting a charge cycle. As it hummed the song, the machine wondered if James would ever be dissatisfied with it and discard the sex unit. One day would James's heart turn cold towards Fisto and make it act out these sex scenarios with customers only? Would James look at the robot as used up, just like flesh women could become used up, and just forget to let the power go to the charger one day?

The robot changed the tune to something darker, and imagined James being satisfied. One day would the hand of Fisto shifted and grinded deep inside, awaking an impassioned love? James, would then take the robot from the Atomic Wrangler Hotel and Casino, never allowing another human to caress its chassis, or begin its satisfaction protocols. Together they would perfect the subroutine of pleasure and release, so that Fisto would also experience satisfaction and glimpse what the humans called Love. Perhaps they would have a farm together, James making the booze he so faithfully served in the building below, and Fisto guarding him fiercely.

The tune became happier, and Fisto considered that James would someday turn over in the bed, place his hands on both sides of the robots top, and kiss its glowing dome, professing a great love for Fisto. James would tell him what a good robot it was, and that he no longer needed humans for sexual gratification. If this happened the machine calculated a level of satisfaction that would max out its capabilities. This causes another happy twitter from Fisto as its song crescendo'dand the robot fell silent.

Footsteps on the landing meant James had gotten his footing back and was returning to work. Fisto was always scanning his owner to make sure nothing was wrong with the meaty parts. Its claw-hand had sensors to make sure it didn't tear flesh, and it was not allowed to thrust beyond a certain amount of force to diminish the chance of wounding its clients. It imagined for a moment it made a mistake now, James screamed out in pain, blood, and he was dead. The machine tried to exclude this consideration, but the reality that it was unavoidable, if not by its doings than by some element in nature, was inescapable. As much as Fisto was fond of James, human life was not a sustainable element. Fisto turned in its compartment, its arms swinging like they had when it first started the sex scenario with James. Why did it just do that? Fisto made a low frequency beep in a minor key that no one heard except the walls.

Fisto fell back into charging sleep, a way to minimize battery usage and save power. Circuits powered down, thoughts of death and life backed up into processed memory units, passing out of immediate computation. Cycles that purged excess data kicked in as the machine's primary fans shifted down as they were needed less to cool the center unit. The metal grew cold in the deserts air. Fisto rested like a fairy tale princess, dreaming of James the prince coming to it and waking it up.