Immobilisation gives one a lot of time to think, and boy, did Robbie think. In the dark of the back of the truck surrounded by the other defective AutoMaids, as he was wheeled into the warehouse and inventoried by some dweeb with a mullet, and as he was plugged into a laptop via the same port he loaded in all his fantasy scripts two days earlier in his garage. In his infinite stillness, he worried about what would happen to his consciousness if his new maid body was sent for scrap, he pondered whether Bot-Robbie would make a better husband than he had, or if he too would reach his tolerance of Marie and come up with some hair brained scheme to replace her. Was there any of the real-Robbie person still in the real-Robbie body? He considered what he would do if he was placed with another customer and expected to clean house. Could they load software that would make him do that? But most of all, he thought about sex. His body was still but his robotic loins were restless. He needed relief from the inhuman cravings that were consuming his paralysed form. He didn't care if he stayed an AutoMaid forever – he just needed a release.
“This one is totally fucked!!” The technician at the laptop shook his head to no-one in particular. “Operating system is completely gone and there is so much rogue code in there I don't even know where to start unpicking it.”
“Hmmm...” A colleague joined him and pondered what was on the screen. “Looks like a lot of sex scripts and kink programming. My guess is there was a mix up at the factory. We got a sex-doll and some poor sap with a hard-on for droid-women got a bot more interested in turning up his bedsheets than taking a tumble in them. Let's ship this one back to the factory. They'll know where it needs to go...”
And that's how, two weeks later, Robbie found himself being sold for a cut price as a refurbished sex-doll. It didn't matter how much he tried to explain the mix-up, his new owner didn't even speak English. Robbie didn't even know what country he was in – he just knew that he had spent a long time immobilised inside a crate. His new owner, a grubby fat man, was not phased by his new toy's protests. For the deal he got, he was more than happy to use the immobiliser to good effect whenever it got annoying. Having been resold as an “AutoCompanion”, Robbie has introduced to a wardrobe that extended far beyond the French Maid outfit he had barely got used to. He was dressed in a selection of fetish and fantasy outfits including as a cheerleader and a female gimp and positioned as a risqué piece of furniture during the day, but at night the man preferred to strip him down to a pair of crotchless panties and heels and position him on the bed ready to be fucked. It was only then would Robbie be unfrozen. Primed and ready to be screwed silly with his ass propped up on a pillow, he knew now was his chance – to run, to escape, to somehow get home and expose Bot-Robbie as the imposter he was. But, oh...fuck!! He needed that release...
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