[F4A] Robo-girl hostess clubs need backstage workers too!
It was the edge of the evening. The sun was low in the sky, but it hadn't yet quite slipped below the horizon and ceded its amber glow to the garish neon blues and pinks of the city's bustling nightlife. Soon, people would be lining up the door to drink with the club's beautiful hostesses, to enjoy their company, and--for the highest spenders--their companionship through the night.
But before any of that, you had to get to work. You tossed a wave at the burly bouncers chatting to each other by the door and headed into the club. You took a turn before entering the maze of polished tables and stragetically located nooks offering the illusion of privacy for anyone who might want to get a little more hands-on with the ethereal beauties who made this establishment so popular. Of course... being on display was hardly in your job description.
You made your way through a set of nondescript double-doors into a room that looked more like a racing team's garage than a high-end nightclub. Rolling cabinents full of tools lined one wall, with a few areas partioned out for the bigger tools like the lathe and 5-axis mill. Dividers broke the other wall into bays, each sporting workbench, a smaller selection of specialized tools, and of course a hostess.
As always I was waiting for you, sitting on the edge of a small stool with my long, long legs trailing down to the dense rubber anti-slip floorboards. I was one of club's most popular hostesses, and for good reason. I was beautiful, a breathtaking geisha with exotic allure that all but demanded a second look. My personality was kind, but cool. Educated and eruidte, but never arrogant. I was dominant, but not domineering. I could converse like your equal or lull you to sleep in my lap like your mother. The one thing I wasn't was human.
I was a machine, a robot purpose-built for my task. No woman enslaved the whims of biology could hope to match the lofty standard of perfect beauty my proud, stern features and dark, gentle eyes effortlessly displayed. My features were sculpted to perfection, my figure the impossible made physical in silicone and titanium. My breasts were full and round, filling out the tight silks of my kimono-styled outfit without the need for any bra or support. My waist was tiny and trim, my hips a tasteful contrast to balance out my bosom. My thighs were equally fit to offer a soothing lap to rest upon or to crush a man to climax between my powerful actuators.
I was more than a woman, and my designers saw no shame in that. My design proudly declaired that I was a marraige of the best of man and machine. My legs from the thigh down and my arms were overtly mechanical. Hard plates of custom-machined metal were joined with the precision of aerospace parts and finished with a glossy glaze that made me look like a peice of precious china brought to life.
"Hello," I said with a smile as I noticed you walk in to my bay. All that beauty took effort, not just to maintain but to keep carefully on-trend. I had a full staff responsible for maintaing my systems, and you were in charge of them all. I might even say... you were my favorite.
Hiya! You can call me Cait! I hope you liked my post! I'm falling in love with the thought of playing a gorgeous robot lady. It's one thing to be sexy, but to have your entire job just be "be sexy" and to have an entire staff of people who keep you like that? I can have big balloon tits without worrying about my back aching, I can a snatched little waist without spending a day in the gym or turning down a single cookie. I can be perfectly on-trend for what's hot and sexy without having to put in the work myself!
And you... you get to see me in a more intimate setting than anyone. Sure, I might sleep with clients, but there's a world of difference between seeing me without my clothes on and seeing me naked.
If this sounds interesting to you, please hit me up