Futuristic Der Sandmann

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My name is Sigmund. I am writing this to record what happened to my best friend Alan. It was 2063. Alan and his fiancée Clara had both come over to my small apartment to watch the annual Robotics Expo. Alan always had a fascination with robotics and A.I. Clara didn’t like it when Alan would go on and on about the latest breakthroughs in technology, and practically drool over some of the more realistic looking humanoid robots. The Olympia model, who strangely bore a passing resemblance to Clara, looked directly into the camera and winked before turning back around on the catwalk.

“She kind of looks like you.”

“What? Her? No she doesn’t.”

“I don’t know . . .”

“Well I’m better than any robot.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?”

“I just meant she reminded me of you. That’s all.”

I sat awkwardly on the couch as Alan and Clara argued. Eventually Alan and Clara left, still arguing. I sighed and tried to watch the rest of the expo, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Alan and Clara’s argument. I had to agree with Alan; the Olympia fembot did look a bit like Clara, in the face at least. Of course Olympia was built to have next-to-none body fat, longer legs and fuller breasts, but both Clara and Olympia were attractive blue-eyed brunettes, and Alan was a really lucky guy. My attention was snapped back to the television as Lothar Spallanzani, the eccentric billionaire owner of Synthetatek, took the stage. He was accompanied by two Olympia models one on each side of him.

“Hello robot fans and skeptics, lovers and haters alike, today is a very special day. Today Synthetatek takes the next big step, and I’d like to introduce a very special guest, ladies and gentlemen, Coppelius Gates.”

I was shocked as I watched Coppelius Gates, the owner of Microsoft walk onto the stage and literally hug one of his biggest rivals. It was a company merger, and MicroSynth was the new company. I tried calling Alan to let him know the big news, as I was sure he would appreciate the weight of the announcement, but he didn’t answer. He was probably still arguing with Clara. “And as a celebration of all things Microsoft and Synthetatek, we here at MicroSynth will be giving away 100 Olympia models, absolutely free. To enter simply go online and register. Thank you and goodnight!”

I of course went online and registered immediately. I tried to ignore the eroticism of having sex with a hotter robotic version of my best friend’s fiancée. The Olympia model could be programmed for much more than just sex. It’s just a coincidence that she happens to resemble Clara, I tried telling myself. I told myself I probably wouldn’t win anyway. I was wrong. I did win. The Olympia fembot arrived encased in a large wooden crate. It was a Saturday and I happened to have the day off from work, so I let her charge for eight hours in the charging platform she came bundled with. She was dressed in a form-hugging black business suit and knee-length skirt with black pumps. It was 10 p.m. when Olympia was finally charged. I pressed the power button on her remote and her eyes slowly opened, glowed a faint turquoise for a few moments, then settled down into the alluring blue-gray that reminded me so much of Clara.

“Hello. Congratulations on winning one of 100 limited edition MicroSynth Olympia robots.”

“Limited edition?” I thought to myself.

“Please enter a pass-code to initiate set-up of voice command.”

I watched as Olympia slowly unbuttoned her white undershirt and a panel on her upper chest opened to reveal a keypad. I entered in my pass-code, 2001, and proceeded to record my voice for Olympia’s voice-recognition software.

“Thank you for setting up voice command. I am an Olympia model, but would like to re-name me?” For a brief moment I thought of re-naming Olympia, “Clara” but was soon ashamed of my idea.

“No, Olympia is fine.”

“Excellent. How may I be of service, master?”

“Just call me Sigmund.”

“Understood, Sigmund. How may I be of service?” I looked around at my small apartment.

“Well, the carpet needs vacuumed.”

“Of course.”

“You’ll find the vacuum in the closet over there.” I pointed.

I watched as Olympia walked calmly to the closet. As she opened the door I approached her from behind and pulled her skirt down to her ankles.

“Oh, do you require sexual stimulation, Sigmund?”

“No, no, I just wanted to do that, please continue.”

“Oh, okay.” Olympia said and smiled before stepping out of her skirt. I stared at Olympia’s long legs in her pumps as she vacuumed.

“Take your suit jacket, undershirt, and bra off.”

“Yes Sigmund.”

I had Olympia do the dishes and dust while she wore nothing but her pumps. I went to bed with her that night, and we embraced as I finally fell asleep after hours of sex. That night I had a nightmare. I was alone in my apartment when a knock at the door alerted me. Outside in the hallway stood Clara, naked and with her back towards me. When she turned around, she had no eyes, just two black circles. Clara screamed a horrible wail which then woke me up. I sat up in bed, my heart still pounding.

“What’s wrong, Sigmund?” Olympia had sat up in bed with me and had rested a hand on my shoulder.

“Nothing I guess. Just a nightmare.”

“Oh ok. Well I’ll go and make your breakfast.” I watched as Olympia slid out of the bed still naked. She smiled softly at me as she exited the room. I fumbled around and eventually found my phone. I had a missed call from Alan.

“Shit it’s already after noon.” I thought. Alan had left a voicemail.

“Sigmund, Clara was in a horrible car accident. I’m at the hospital now. I’ll have to cancel our plans for later.”

I entered the kitchen of my apartment to find Olympia, nude, scrambling some eggs. I sat down at the small table and stared at the toned fair-skinned brunette. She reminded me too much of Clara. When Olympia turned around with the plate of scrambled eggs I was suddenly reminded of my nightmare. I quickly looked to see if Olympia’s eyes were still there.

The next few weeks were spent in a mixture of a sexual fever, having fun with Olympia, while simultaneously being filled with disgust and guilt at the thought of how much she reminded me of Clara. I was shocked when Alan called and informed me Clara had opted to be partially robotized in order to save her life and recover from the accident better and quicker. Clara had a general disdain for robots, why would she want to become one? I received a knock on my door a few days after Alan’s phone call, I looked through the peep-hole and saw Alan and Clara standing out in the hallway. I had just finished fucking Olympia. Shit. I couldn’t let Alan and Clara see Olympia, so I told her to hide in the closet. I opened the door slowly.

“Sigmund! How’ve you been?”

“Good.” I replied awkwardly, for someone whose fiancée had nearly died in a car crash, Alan seemed unusually chipper. I glanced at Clara who smiled blankly and entered my apartment behind Alan. Alan sat down on my couch and relaxed while Clara sat up-straight and stiff with hands folded neatly on her lap.

“So you’re feeling okay, now Clara?” I asked.

“Yes. I am feeling fine. Thank you for asking.” Clara responded distantly and smiled faintly.

“You bastard.” I said towards Alan.


“You’ve turned her into a slave.”

“Look, their still working on restoring her personality, I managed to convince the guy at the hospital to let me take her for a test run.” Alan chuckled and winked at me. I don’t know why I felt so disgusted towards my friend, but I then told him to get out. Alan stood up and approached me, got right in my face. Angered, I grabbed him by the shirt collar and tried to slam him against the wall, but Alan pivoted, grabbed my own shirt collar and pushed me against the closet door, which then slowly drifted open.

“What the hell is that?”

“That’s Olympia. I won her in the contest. I was going to tell you but —“

“She looks like Clara.”

“I know that’s why I —“

“You son of a bitch. Come on Clara we’re done here.”

After Alan and Clara left and I dusted myself off, I stared into Olympia’s eyes. I just stood there and stared at her.

“Something wrong?”

“No. Olympia, from now on your name is Clara, understand?”

“Yes Sigmund, I am Clara.”

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