Unnatural Instinct: Android

25.

For the first time in a very long time you're not watching T.V. It's on but it's behind you, your couch facing the rest of the house as you watch Hiro clean.

'You missed a spot,' you say.

He looks at you questioningly as you point over down at the bottom of the fridge. He bends over to sweep up the mess. Dropping your chin on your fist you watch him. This 'no clothes' business is a very good idea.

He has so many muscles and not an ounce of fat on him. The big muscles in his thighs strain, then clench. You can see all the definition in his back and abdomen. His biceps bulge outward. Then he stands and you watch as all his muscles move smoothly beneath his perfect skin. It makes you shiver.

He turns towards you, holding the dustpan and brush, waiting for your next command. His hair has dried since the shower and though he hasn't even brushed it, it sits so perfectly upon his head it looks like he's styled it.

But his hair is hardly your main focus. You purse you lips at the sight of his erection. It's been hours since the shower and yet it's still there, like a permanent fixture on his miraculous body. Always ready. Always waiting. It causes mixed feelings. Both at once you feel excited and ashamed. Worse than that, beneath those feelings is an undercurrent of pity for Hiro that you can't shake.

Is this what it had been like for him with his previous owners? You like to think he hasn't had any previous owners. You try and convince yourself that he could be one of the last models, unused, still packed up, before his series was discontinued. 'Try to convince yourself' is the key phrase here—you know its's unlikely.

Doesn't that make you as bad as his previous owners?

According to him it doesn't.

'I am what I am,' he told you, soon after you finished your shower and you revealed your guilt. 'I cannot help that. You cannot help that. I will have urges. There is no stopping it now.'

He's right about that. There's no stopping it now. What is done is done. It's either this or shut him down and lose him forever.

And neither of you want that.

Despite sporting an erection for so long, he seems able to contain himself. He's not agitated or trembling or acting strangely, but you know that pretty soon you will have to relieve him. It's the price you'll have to pay to keep him.

You don't mind. It's something you can plenty afford.

'You are thinking,' he says.

You lift your chin from your fist. 'That's enough cleaning, Hiro.' Wincing, you shift in your seat. You've already taken pain relief this morning since your painful walk to the shower but it's worn off too quickly. 'Could you get me another tablet?'

He frowns. 'Inadvisable. It is outside of schedule.'

'I can't wait another two hours, Hiro.' You bite your lip at a sudden blast of pain up your spine. Your hands begin to shake. 'It's all this moving. It's all this ... sex. It's playing havoc with my condition.'

He stares at you for several moments. 'Inadvisable. Opioid administration scheduled every four hours.'

'It's just this once, Hiro. Please ...'

'Inadvisable. Possibility of addiction ...'

You close your eyes as you claw your fingers into the arm of your couch. 'Don't lecture me, Hiro. I know the risks. Just do what I say.'

'No.' And he turns to put the dustpan and brush away.

'Goddamnit, Hiro,' you say between clenched teeth. You feel like a worthless child. You used to have free access to them until about a month ago, after your mother discovered you were taking them when you shouldn't have been. Now they're locked in a cupboard high up in the kitchen. Since she bought Hiro, she's entrusted him with the keys. You hoped he might help you.

'Please, Hiro,' you say in a high weepy voice. 'Get them for me. I'm in agony.'

'Inadvisable.'

'Fine! Fuck you, Hiro!' And you throw yourself onto the floor. It hurts like hell as you land on your coccyx—you can feel the pain shooting up your back—but it will be worth it if it makes him reconsider. After all, it's always worked on your mother.

It seems you've underestimated him.

He studies you, still wearing that frown on his face, and you know exactly what he's thinking—addictive behaviour. You're hooked on opioids—and he knows it.

'Don't look at me like that,' you say.

He continues to gaze at you.

You sneer. 'I thought you were different, Hiro. But it seems you're just like the other nurses—judging me. Well, I'll tell you what I tell them—you have no idea. You have no idea what I go through every day. So don't judge me.'

Still frowning, he approaches, his bare feet slapping against the floor, his giant erection swinging between his muscular thighs.

'What are you doing?' you say, leaning away as he stands over you. You don't like the steadfast focus on his face; it means he's up to something. 'What are you doing?!' you cry again as he grabs you. 'Put me down, Hiro! I want my Goddamn pill!'

He carries you into your room and rests you on your bed. He climbs on the bed with you so he's straddling your hips, his penis resting against your abdomen.

'I don't feel like it,' you say. 'I'm in too much pain.'

But he doesn't move, his eyes bright with intent. All you can do is look back at him fearfully. Is he seriously going to do what he wants, despite your objections? The possibility that he could actually rape you fills you with such dread that it makes you forget your pain. There would be nothing you could do to stop him. There's no one to help you, and unlike an ordinary man he could do it all day.

He could go on forever. He could hurt you so badly that your current injuries would be nothing in comparison.

He's gripping his knees and you can see the veins bulging on them. He's tense. You can see it in his face too—he's straining his jaw and you can see the thick cording in his neck.

'Hiro,' you beg. 'Please.'