004: Claiming Possession.

Emerson's hands were shaking. 'What the hell was he doing?' One second, he was standing there, questioning his sanity, and the next, he was about to kiss a robot.

A machine. A damn machine.

“But this... this can't be wrong, can it?” he muttered, trying to convince himself. “I spent my hard-earned money on this, made an investment. I have to test it, right? To awaken it, I just have to kiss it. Easy-peasy.”

He tried to convince himself that kissing a bot, in this case, wasn’t 'Rape'.

“Lord, bless my soul,” he breathed.

Slowly, Emerson leaned in. Just close enough to see if it felt... strange. 'No one ever talks about kissing a bot, right?' How would he even know what to expect? It was supposed to be plastic, right? Cold, hard plastic.

But as soon as his lips brushed against the bot’s, it wasn’t cold. It wasn’t plastic.

It was... soft. Too soft. It felt like flesh.

A wave of confusion hit him, and he pulled back for a moment. But he couldn’t stop himself from leaning back in, feeling those lips again… the warmth, the realness. His hand reached instinctively for its waist. 'Why had he done that?'

He pulled away again, suddenly feeling like he was crossing an invisible line. But before he could move back, a hand caught his waist—a hand that felt warm, strong, and human. The grip pulled him closer, letting him taste those lips once more, sending a confusing thrill through him.

Emerson groaned involuntarily as the sensation spread through his body. He didn’t even know why he was responding this way. 'It's just a machine, Emerson.'

Abruptly, he pulled back, nearly knocking over a nearby lamp in his panic. His eyes snapped open, and he froze. There it was… those lifeless, blue eyes staring blankly back at him.

Wait. What?

The eyes opened.

He blinked, heart still racing, and looked down at the paper in his hand. His fingers trembled as he unfolded it again. His mind was still reeling from what had just happened.

He read the instructions once more, squinting at the devilishly small handwriting. It was so painful to the eyes. It didn’t make sense.

But then, it clicked.

'Breathe.' 'Warmth.' 'Close face, as if to kiss.' 'Transfer warmth to the bot.' 'Transfer breath.'

A sick feeling hit his stomach as he reread the words again... and again. All that—that kiss—had been wrong. What he was supposed to do was just breathe close to the bot, let his warmth pass to it. That’s how it was supposed to awaken. It was about breath, not lips.

“Fuck Me.”

Glancing back at the bot, he couldn’t shake the lingering sensation of its lips against his. Was that real? Or had he imagined it?

He felt a strange impulse tugging at him. Despite what he’d just read, he took a step closer. Exhaling slowly, his face was just inches from the bot's.

Nothing happened.

“No, this is wrong.” Emerson stepped back quickly, putting a safe distance between himself and that intoxicating machine.

And then it spoke.

Not in a human way, but in a practiced, calculated tone.

“Reason for physical proximity needed for awakening: breath transfer.” The voice was flat, like a recording. Cold and detached.

Emerson blinked.

It was speaking, but there was no emotion behind it. No real understanding. It sounded like it was just going through the motions. The words didn’t match the situation.

He just stood there, watching it, breathing out slowly, not sure what to say. The whole situation felt off.

And then, the bot’s voice piped up again. “Why did you pull away? The action was consistent with the purpose. Kissing is required for optimal transfer of warmth.”

It paused, then continued, “Mouth contact is required. Optimal breath exchange is necessary.”

Emerson stared, unsure whether to laugh or be scared out of his mind. The bot sounded... too clinical. 'What fuckery is this?'

“You’re telling me... this whole thing... this kiss, this warmth transfer,” he stammered, trying to wrap his head around it, “it’s meant to happen? Like, you’re saying we need to do this… often?”

At this point, he almost felt like it was begging him to kiss it. Did it think he was a good kisser? Well, he hoped it did.

But there was no intention in the bot’s voice. Nothing to suggest it wanted him to kiss it, nothing to show it was aware of the absurdity of the situation but still wanted it to happen. It just... was.

“Yes,” it said simply, as if it had read the instruction manual and was simply following orders. “My purpose is companionship immediately upon activation. Human contact is necessary. To kiss is human contact.”

Emerson let out a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head as he took a few steps closer. “So, you’re saying... I’m supposed to kiss you to make you... after you come alive and... forever?”

He couldn’t help feeling like they were almost sweet-talking each other, but the bot’s response was completely emotionless.

“Yes,” it replied, “Kiss is required.”

Emerson stepped back. A sense of rejection settled over him. He’d kissed it, felt it, and now it was saying he was supposed to keep doing it continuously, sounding like it had no other option. “Cruel.”

The bot’s eyes didn’t move. It didn’t shift. It just kept staring, those cold blue eyes fixed on his.

Emerson let out a sigh, glancing down at the paper again. “Yeah, well, maybe someone should’ve told me I just needed to breathe lofe into you, nothing else, before I went and kissed you like some kind of idiot.”

As if it was all just part of the process, the bot’s voice chimed again, utterly unaffected by his frustration. “Apologies if manuals and instructions were insufficient.”

Its response was cold, almost cruel, like it didn’t care how its words affected him. Emerson felt like a teenager pining after a crush who didn’t look his way. “Tch”.

He stood there for a moment, feeling the awkwardness settle. He needed to change the subject.

“So… technically... you’re just a fuck bot, huh?” he said, the words slipping out before he could stop himself. Ouch.

Well, it was the only topic that made sense to talk about at that moment.