FSE

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“A trip?" Veil clapped her hands. “Where are we going? Is it far? What're we gonna do there?"

“I'm going on a trip. Not you. Just me," Oliver replied. He set down his suitcase on his bed and began packing.

“Hold on, what about your kid? You're just gonna leave him here?" Veil asked, following Oliver closely around the room.

“If you hadn't noticed, I already took him to his mother's. He's kind of not here right now, remember?"

Veil paused and looked out the bedroom door. “Ohhhhh, yeaaaaaah." She nodded and stuck right to him again. “Still, you gotta take me! What am I gonna do the whole time you're gone? Sit in the closet?"

“I was hoping that'd be the plan." Oliver sighed. “Not sure you'll follow it, but I hope in vain all the time." He hefted more clothes in.

“You think I'm gonna party the whole time? Who am I gonna invite?"

“I don't know. You'll probably get a dumb idea while you're sitting in there. You seem to have a lot of those. Still cleaning out the batter in my oven, by the way."

“I just wanted to try some home cooking. What better way to come home from work than your ready rousing robot with cookies on a plate?"

“Having them neatly tucked away in the closet, for one." Oliver held up a garish tourist shirt and shook his head, tossing it back into the closet. “It's just for a few days. I'm sure you can just, I dunno, go to sleep for that long."

“I don't wanna turn off, that's so boooooooooooring!" Veil clung to his shirt. “It's booooooooring!" She tugged on it for emphasis. “Boooooor–"

“I get it." Oliver swatted her hands away. “Just watch TV or something. It's really not that hard. You don't even have to worry about food." He briefly wondered if he should sample something new on his trip.

“I'll be missing my main form of nourishment!" Veil fluttered her eyes and wrapped her tail around his leg. “What will I do without you?" The tip traveled up his leg until it prodded at his groin.

Oliver winced and shook her off. “Please stop making that joke. I'm begging you. You'll be fine."

Veil huffed and crossed her arms. She moved to the bed and plopped down. There was still something weird about having a naked robot running around the house. Oliver was definitely dangling on that thin thread of sex pervert, so he told himself.

“So where is it?" Veil asked. “Better not be super far."

“I already told you it's only going to be a few days, so it's not like it matters, right?" He tossed in a bundle of socks.

“I still wanna know. If it doesn't matter then you should be fine telling me, right?"

“I guess that makes sense. It's just to England for a little bit."

“Oh, the guys with the funny accents? I think they say stuff like cheerios and ride around in red buses? Kinda weird to live on an island, but whatever, that's their thing."

Oliver was going to correct her but knew how fruitless that task was. Hard to think a robot could be so clueless at times. Not like she was made to know these things, but… Oliver looked to Veil. She smiled back, uncrossing her arms. But it certainly soured the pristine view of robots that they usually gave off.

“Soooo, you're just going there for work, not pleasure?" Veil fell on the bed, one arm propping her head up. “You're not getting bored of me, right?"

“Are you kidding me? Have you seen airfare? No way I'm leaving home just for 'pleasure,' alright?"

“Oh, so you're saying that I'm the best there is?"

“Yeah, sure, that's what I'm saying. Look, just let me pack. The sooner I leave, the quicker I return, right?"

“The quicker you'll come?" Her ears perked up.

“You know that's not what I said."

“Sorry, my complex robot brain picks up on true intentions." Her free hand rested on her groin. “And I'm always right."

“Not right now. I have to make sure everything is in its place. Or at least shoved in here before I leave." Better take a toothbrush. Don't want to risk one at the hotel. Also maybe some extra socks.

“Look at you, filling that thing to the brim." Veil's body rolled onto its stomach, but her head remained propped. Her tail flicked and her rear raised. “When you could be filling me to the brim, with your, uh, case? Longcase? Is that a word?"

“That doesn't even make any sense." Not that it didn't catch his eye. Their back and forth debauchery had already imprinted on his mind a lot more than he would admit. Her pert rear never lost its appeal, no matter how ridiculous she acted.

“Well, come on, that just means I'm low on nourishment." Veil elbow crawled her way over to him and patted him on the leg. “Gimme a sip. A snack. A parting gift, like they might say in England."

“Maybe while I'm away you watch National Geographic or something."

“Hey, I said 'might' so it doesn't have to be 100% correct."

“Doesn't matter."

“So, you're not leaving tonight, right?"

“No, private flight is scheduled for tomorrow."

“Private, oooooh, fancy. Anyways, before you go." Veil patted him again, then hooked a finger into the band of his pants. “How about we party?"

“I really have to make sure everything is ready." And yet, his body already reacted. Maybe she was smarter than she acted. Just a tug of the finger was enough to rouse his thoughts. She had him trained, whether she knew it or not.

“Just one go. How about it?" Veil edged closer, enough for her teeth to pull on the zipper.

Oliver sighed. “Fine."

_

After three or four positions, Oliver found himself thrusting directly into Veil's throat. He held her small body still on the bed, while her head hung just off the edge, angling at the right position to effortlessly take his cock down her gullet. Her expression was hidden from view, and yet somehow Oliver knew it was a smug delight that only made thrusting into her more rewarding.

Veil moved her arms around his legs, tightly hugging them when his balls pressed up her nose. A futile effort to put her in her place. It always was. Oliver gripped her by the stomach and pulled her downward in tandem with his thrusts. Her throat expertly squeezed around his cock, not struggling once to contain his girth.

Oliver tumbled closer to the end of his pleasure. Veil, meanwhile, casually whipped her tail back and forth, an obvious aroused glistening around her entrance. This whole thing was a futile effort to get back at her. She was still enjoying it to no end. Screw it. Oliver reached forward with one hand and plunged a few fingers into her pussy.

Veil's swinging tail grew faster, her throat squeezing tighter. She could feel his end, he knew. That was what she was made to do. Her tongue moved back and forth across his erection, giving that push over the edge.

With a grunt and a final thrust, Oliver shot out a rope of semen down Veil's greedy throat. She moaned, ending in a muffled squeal of delight. Her walls squeezed around his fingers frantically, just as her legs closed around his hand.

Exhausted, Oliver steadied himself on the bed. Aside from his heaving breaths, all he could hear was Veil quietly swallowing his cum, causing twinges of overbearing pleasure to hit his tired mind. She slowly came to a stop, allowing him to pull his erection free.

Veil loudly coughed and sat up, narrowly missing him as she did.

“Should've left some air for me, lover!" Veil said. “Awfully rude!"

“You don't need to breathe." Oliver gave her a stern look, which probably didn't work at all considering his exhaustion.

“I'm roleplaying. Thought you'd like it. Makes me seem more alive. I mean, uh, not that I'm not better than a real girl. Or a real-er girl? What kinda girl would you call me?"

Oliver rolled his eyes and sat down on the bed, covering himself back up. There it was, that little pang of feeling weird. He tried to set that aside and remind himself it would be a nice few days away from her. Even if he had gotten used to her, it was good to take time away. Oliver looked back to her, just in time to see her wiping off her lips with a bundle of socks.

“Wow, I shoulda used these sooner," Veil said.

“Why would you do that?!" Oliver said, snatching it away from her.

“I thought all guys did that?" Veil shrugged. “No biggie, you've got more in here."

It would be a very, very nice few days away.

_

“You don't have to stay in the closet, just don't go outside. Don't answer the door. Don't even think about the outside," Oliver said.

“Man, you're looking good. What kinda suit is that?"

“You heard what I said, right?"

“I'm a robot, duh. I hear all, I see all." Veil tapped on her ears and eyes respectively. “How am I not gonna think about my big ol' master while he's away?"

Big ol'. Good blow to the ego. Oliver straightened out his tie.

“I'll be fine. Just focus on watching TV. Should be easy."

“You're not still mad about the sock thing yesterday, are you?"

“Yes– No– Just… You heard what I said."

“Suuuuuuuure did!" Veil clasped her hands together, stood up on her tippy toes, and puckered her lips. “How about a kiss goodbye?"

“Now's not the time for this." Oliver glanced at his watch. He was going to be early, which was on time, so he had to be even earlier. “I've got to go, bye. And remember what I said."

“This noodle is an iron cage," Veil replied.

Oliver nodded and rushed into his room to give everything a once-over. Clothing, work supplies, computer. All in the two cases he had. Good, good. He moved to his mirror, straightening out his clothes. Maybe big ol' wasn't off the mark. He shook his head and huffed. One more look at the mental checklist. Better grab a drink, he thought.

Back to the fridge. Water, juices, some sports drink you never tried. Oliver went over each drink, weighing pros and cons. Just take water, or no, maybe a sports drink. Did it really matter what you drank on the damn plane, he asked himself. Well, at least grab a snack too.

After much back and forths over his one snack, Oliver eventually settled and ran back into his room. He hefted his bags up. Jeez, that was heavier than he thought. He'd have to set aside some exercise time when he got back home. Hard to think he wasn't burning enough calories with all the– Not now. Oliver forced him out the front door. Locked it. Double checked. Triple checked. Veil will probably lock it if that wasn't good enough. Stumble down the driveway. Bags in the trunk. In the car.

“Phew," Oliver said. He stepped into the driver's seat and hit the ignition. “Off to work!"

_

Oliver stood in a particularly large airport. He took a moment to appreciate the new country air. If that was even a thing. Still, it was somewhere new. Fresh. His worries back home felt like a faint memory. Should do this more often, he told himself. Fortunately his private flight let him bypass most of the annoying little tidbits of the stop and go nature of traveling.

Now he just needed a snack before he headed off. OK, no, straight to the hotel. They would have actual food. Tempting, though. Oliver goaded himself on to the nearest automated transport before he lingered too long and truly became late. Plus, a snack was best enjoyed laying down.

The automated vehicle whisked him off to his hotel. It wasn't exactly a scenic route, but it certainly gave a bottled essence of the new environment. Brick and mortar was a lovely change of pace from the more artificial environment he came from. Not entirely unique to England itself, but good nonetheless.

Oliver's ride came to a stop in front of one of the newer buildings in the area, that frankly stuck out sorely with its newer materials. This was for business after all, had to remember that much. Though the thought of business was betrayed by the slightly lower-end quality of the place. Not expensive business, that was the caveat.

“Greetings, sir," the feminine robotic clerk said.

“Morning, uh, more afternoon I guess. Anyways, came to check in. Any room you've got, one bed." Should probably head back as soon as he could. “Make it two nights."

“Certainly. Please insert your card when ready."

“Good. I can finally make use of the business card."

Strange having a clinical machine serve him. He was used to the prodding jeers and jokes from a certain rat-like machine. “Insert your card" is entirely a joke she'd use too. Then she'd make a crude gesture. Never mind that, he told himself. This was time away from that constant silliness.

“Room 301." She extended her hand, producing the little key card. “Enjoy your stay."

“Thanks."

Just a little bit longer and he'd have to stop lugging these things around. For now. He stepped through another set of doors and quickly realized his room was on the third floor. Or second. They did it some strange way over here. Either way, stairs upon stairs.

And stairs upon stairs later, Oliver lugged his bags to his little slice of relaxation and opened the door, quickly tossing the bags on the bed and shutting the entrance with a foot. He huffed and undid his tie. The bed called to him. No, he had to make sure he had all his items first. He unzipped his first bag.

“Good morning!" Veil said, popping out.

Oliver flinched, nearly stumbling backward. His brain froze, annoyance and anger crashed in his head.

“I was expecting something bigger. Cooler. This looks like a normal room. Are you sure we're not in the same country?" Veil glanced about, one hand firmly on her chin as she scrutinized it.

“What?" Oliver shook his head. “What the hell are you doing here?"

“I'm traveling. I'm a robot of the world, now."

“You're not supposed to be here! You're supposed to be back home!" Oliver rubbed his forehead.

“And watch TV alllllllll day? That's it? Nope. Not happening. Nuh-uh." Veil crawled out of the bag and onto the bed.

Oliver quickly realized that if one bag was all her, then what about the other one? He yanked the bag over to him and hastily opened it. Crumpled clothes spilled out, with his computer falling snugly onto the pile. He let out a sigh of relief and put a hand on his chest. That relief washed away again.

“I can't watch you on a business trip," Oliver said, shoveling clothes back into the case. “I can barely watch you at home."

“I'm an adult," Veil replied. “You're acting like I'm some kinda idiot."

“Yeah, some kind of." No point in getting mad. He pinched the bridge of his nose. No point in getting mad, he repeated quietly. “Can you at least apologize?"

“What? For my gift? You were gonna be all alone here, weren't'cha? It's more fun this way."

Veil grabbed the TV remote and began flipping through channels.

“I thought you didn't want to watch TV at home?"

“Well, that's regular TV! This is new stuff. Never seen it before. Could be cool! I mean, unless…" Veil smiled. “You wanna insert your card?"

“Oh, shut up."

Oliver's annoyance immediately dislodged. He should've seen this coming. It was his fault, really. He settled down on the bed next to her, too tired to bother with arguing with her. For now, all he could do was hope he wasn't breaking any laws or hotel rules. Getting tossed out wouldn't look good to the boss. Getting tossed out because of something like Veil? Way worse.

“Welp, I'm bored. Wanna do it?" Veil asked.

“You need a hobby."

“Oh, like you do anything else."

“I'm busy with work. I can't have hobbies."

“I'm busy with work too! You bought me, remember? It's my job to do what I do. My duty."

“I have to respect your one-track mind."

“Robotic power!" She thrust her fist into the air. “So, uh, wanna do it?"

“No."

_

“Clothes are weird," Veil said.

“You wanted to come outside. I am not letting you walk around naked," Oliver replied.

Oliver and Veil stood outside the hotel, looking more than a little out of place. His choice was either let her muck about the room and rack up charges, or come outside and embarrass him. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, he was more willing to sacrifice his pride for cash at this point in his life. Some sunglasses at least discounted the embarrassment.

Veil was dolled up in a small dress to cover up her body, her tail poking out underneath the hem. Took some cutting to better fit her, but it was far better than having people stare at her bare body. For him, that is. People still stared when they could. Robots were commonplace. Robotic rats were not. Oliver was hoping that he could avoid the embarrassing tourist stereotypes of his countrymen, but much like having a peaceful time away, that was a wish he would not have granted.

“So, what do you do outside? Stare at people?" Veil asked. “I'm down with that."

“I was going to try out a place to eat. Walk around. Try not to seem weird."

“Of course you would." Veil poked him in the stomach.

“Alright, alright, knock it off. Follow me. Closely."

Oliver had the mental dilemma of wondering if he should hold her hand to keep her in line. Better not. It made it harder to focus on his surroundings, having one eye on a rambunctious robot, yet he took in his surroundings when he could. No doubt this was a more “tourist" part of the country, with things gussied up to seem a little more unique, clean, and presentable. Nonetheless, it was a lovely change of pace from his overdeveloped world.

Every building seemed to find its place along a row, like they grew there rather than had been meticulously planned out for the sake of maximizing capital. Though the illusion occasionally cracked when a franchise smashed through the middle of those older buildings, looking all too shiny and pristine. Similarly, a newer building bearing the facade of an older one would sneak through and attempt to situate itself as something genuine.

“You shoulda gotten me shoes too," Veil said. “This concrete stuff is way too hard on me!"

“I thought you would enjoy the outside," Oliver replied. He tried to appear as casual as possible talking to a rat.

“Yeah, you know, not as cool as it looked. I saw all this stuff on TV. Buildings, trees, people, all on the picture box. Also everyone here keeps lookin' at me. Not in a cool way. Like a weird way. What's up with that?"

“They don't have robot mice, as it turns out."

“I am not a mouse. I am a rat. R-A-T." Veil scampered up to Oliver's arm and grabbed on tightly. “Now everyone knows I'm the special robot belonging to yooooooou."

“Alright, just, keep it down."

Veil's grip tightened on his arm. Oliver was already wondering if people put the pieces together and figured out just what the hell was holding onto him. Not only was it the first time he had been outside with Veil, it was the first time he had been to another country, and he was making an awful show of himself. Sunglasses were his last line of defense, and by God he was keeping that poker face.

“So you just gonna walk around? Maybe show off to the other unlucky fellas? Or ladies. They might like me too."

“I just wanted to try out something to eat. Something local. Not too pricey. Then head back. That's it."

“Then why am I here?"

“Because you asked," Oliver said. He choked his voice before it grew too loud.

“Ohhhhhhhhh. Yeah, now I remember."

“Please, just keep quiet."

“Mm, nuh-uh, not happening."

“Why not?"

“You left me behind!" Veil said, drawing a few more eyes.

“You don't even want to be here, why does that matter?"

“Coulda asked."

“This was just a business trip anyways, you shouldn't be coming regardless. Just me and my bags. That's it."

“Oh, OK, like I'm not more super smarty-er than your computer."

Oliver didn't even bother continuing the conversation. Just the thought of giving Veil a task more complex than opening a door was beyond worrisome. Somewhere in his mind he had to admit that having her as a personal assistant was a cute idea. She'd look endearing in a proper office outfit and maybe glasses. And a little notepad too, hm.

After much meandering, Oliver stopped next to a quieter store. Still one clearly intent on drawing in gullible suckers like him, he knew, but the lower traffic made it more appealing than the rest.

“On your best behavior," Oliver said.

Veil smiled and gave a thumbs up. That would have to do for now. Oliver shook his head and opened up the entrance, being hit with the greasy smell of cooking food immediately. It was like he was back home already.

“The air here is all stuffy, don't you feel it? Ain't that weird?" Veil asked.

“I didn't know you could feel air," Oliver replied. “And no, it feels fine."

“Whatever. You'll feel it. I'm always right."

Oliver quietly ordered his meal, which was, as he described, “whatever they thought was best". The girl at the counter was polite enough to not comment on the metal clasp on his arm and quickly got his food together.

“Aren't you gonna pay with the funny Monopoly money?" Veil asked. “Hey! Is that where they got the idea?"

“Just excuse her, please." Oliver grabbed his food. “You know how it is." He put a finger to his head and spun it around.

The cashier furrowed her brow but eventually nodded. Oliver nodded back and scampered off to a relatively secluded seat away from the other patrons, which they probably enjoyed. Veil slipped into the seat in front of him with a smile.

Oliver opened his mouth to eat a fry.

“Can I have a piece?" Veil asked.

“You don't eat."

“I can taste! I mean, how else am I gonna know your spun–"

Oliver shoved the fry into her open mouth. Veil gave a smug smile and began rolling it around with her tongue, clearly lathering it up with whatever her synthetic spittle was. When she was done, she set it aside on a napkin, clearly trying to play up the trail of spit that connected her and the morsel of food.

“You sure it doesn't feel weird here?" she asked with raised eyebrows. Her sexual demeanor completely shattered.

“Yes, I'm sure."

Veil began kicking as she sat, which Oliver noticed because her feet lightly tapped against his knees. Then her tail swayed. Her head moved from side to side. A hum came from her.

“Do you mind?" Oliver asked.

“Yes! I'm bored!"

Veil crossed her arms and lowered onto the table. Her kicking came to a stop for a moment, and then a smile simmered up. She moved her chair closer with some awkward hops. Oliver munched away at his meal. He wasn't a fish kind of guy but it wasn't half bad. Fries weren't either. Chips. Right, he had to make sure to say chips, lest he offend somebody over it.

A small foot pressed up against Oliver's crotch. He frowned and nudged it aside with his leg. Veil hung on, however, and gently massaged him.

“Do we really have to do this now?" he asked. A glance every which way confirmed that nobody was aware of what was happening just yet.

“Yeah. You have your fun, I have mine," Veil replied. She pressed harder, causing Oliver's body to stir.

“This wasn't supposed to be a fun trip, alright?"

“OK, whatever, I'm making it fun." Veil curled a finger around in her hair. “So, you enjoying your fishy there?"

“Kind of hard to focus on with you."

“Aww, that's so sweet!"

“I don't mean it like that." Oliver nudged her leg again.

“Yeah, well, I'm taking it like that. I mean, you take me all the time." Her smile widened at that dumb joke. “It's a give and take relationship."

Oliver quietly thanked heaven that the place was awash with chatter, hiding away their illicit conversation. He considered being more overt about his distaste, a little more firm, but that risked having someone else notice. Being deported for public sex acts? Not on his bucket list. Especially not indulging in said acts with a robot of all things.

Veil was direct in her movements, managing to expertly trace along his growing erection effortlessly. She didn't even have to look to know where exactly to press. That either spoke of her precision as a machine, or how often they had gone at it. Oliver slightly hoped it was the former.

As Oliver reached full erection, Veil quickly moved her pressure to focus on the tip. He huffed and propped his head up on the table, trying to keep himself steady.

“Would you stop, please?" he said.

“Mmm." Veil lowered her eyelids. “Why would I wanna do that?"

“Because I'm asking. Nicely."

“Can I hear another please, big guy?" She pressed firmly against him. Her usual smile was replaced with something a little more sinister, striking.

“What has gotten into you?"

“Clearly not you. Otherwise we'd be back at the hotel."

Oliver rubbed his eyes. “Alright, fine, please, would you stop?"

“Well…" Veil nudged her foot upward, sending chills through Oliver. “Alright. For now. You've gotta make up for it, though. We can't just sit here all day." She pulled away.

Oliver relaxed back into his seat with a sigh. He took a few more glances around. No wayward stares. Looked like he could remain in the country a little longer.

“Why are you here, anyways?" Veil asked.

“Business. You know this."

“Yeah, but like, what kinda business?"

“Probably best you don't know."

“Wha– Hey, c'mon, I wanna know. We're like, a couple. You and me, right?" Veil pointed at herself, then at him. “Right? You and me? Boyfriend, girlfriend?"

“I don't know what we are, but it's not that."

“Mmm, friends with benefits, then?"

“That's probably closer to the truth. Not sure it's a truth I'd say out loud, though."

“Friends, at least! At least we're friends. C'mon, say we're friends."

“Friends usually aren't stowaways on important trips."

“You already got over fucking a robot, so how bad's a stowaway friend?"

Oliver flinched and looked around again. “Can you be careful with what you say? Just a little bit?"

“Psh, the people here don't care."

“I do."

“Not like you'll ever see 'em again."

“That's irrelevant. I already look insane talking to you."

“I'm sure everyone is jealous." Veil rolled her eyes and smiled. “So, c'mon, what are you gonna do here? I wanna know! I'll be sad if you don't tell me."

“It's just a presentation to overseas investors. Or I guess, not overseas anymore. They're old-fashioned, don't want to do anything over video or even VR. Real-blood stuff."

“I bet they're hipochrists."

“What?"

“You know, say one thing, do another."

“Hypocrites."

“Whateeeever. Flesh and blood is outdated. I think they're probably screwin' bots on the side."

“Point is, they want a presentation in-person."

“In-person." Veil giggled.

“Not like that, you know what I mean."

“Too late, I'm already thinkin' it." Veil giggled again and shook her head. “OK, it's not funny anymore."

“Thank God for that. I was thinking of finding the off button."

“I'm too cool for an off button."

After Veil said that, an employee walked by the table. Oliver gave them a nod and a smile, and they returned it. The little gesture helped to cool himself off a little more. As the employee did their walk back for whatever it was, Veil perked up.

“S'cuse me, miss?" Veil said.

Oliver sighed.

“Yes?" the server asked.

“You got a bathroom here?"

She furrowed her brow but nodded. “Ah, sure, right back there."

“Great! Ollie, how about a quickie?"

_

“What are you so mad about?" Veil asked.

“No, it's fine, you just implied we should have sex in a restaurant," Oliver replied. He was in the middle of arranging his clothing and shooing Veil off the hotel bed.

“Look, I was in the mood is all. I was being polite, yeah?"

“For once, can you get your mind off of sex?"

“No."

“Then be quiet and stay here."

Veil frowned and raised her chin. She looked as though she was going to say something before eventually giving up and resigning herself to a chair.

“Why are you leaving now anyways? I thought that stuff was tomorrow?" she asked.

“I thought the same thing, but woah, hey, they're moving stuff up because everyone got into town early and time is money." Oliver huffed and slipped on a tie. “I swear, it's crazy they have human employees at all. You'd think they'd dump everything off on a supercomputer and collect the paycheck."

“You said they were all flesh n' blood lovers." Veil shrugged.

“I guess they really are hypocrites. You were right about something. See how nice it is when you think about something else for once?"

“Nuh-uh. I don't wanna think about business. Especially not old, wrinkly person business." Veil frowned. “So you're leaving me again, huh?"

“It's for a few hours. That's it. A lot better than the few days you were supposed to sit at home. It's just down the street, too."

“Yeah, well, just go." Veil waved him off.

“No following me this time."

“How would I even do that? I'm just a poor ol' rat who sits in a room all day."

“I'm saying it now."

“Oh, who cares, just go already."

Oliver shook his head and gathered his things. His career wasn't necessarily riding on this, but it would be more than an embarrassment to screw it up. All he had to do was convince several old guys that shifting around lots of cash would be good for them. Should be easy. Should be simple! Oliver rubbed his forehead and took a deep breath.

“Is that a little bit of scaredyness I feel? Ooh, it seems like it is!" Veil said.

“I'll be fine. Just need to get my thoughts in order," Oliver replied.

“I can help."

Veil gave him a sly stare, but maintained her frown.

“I think that's the last thing I need right now." That was a lie.

“Oh, yeah? You're just gonna go up there with your heart pumping? I don't think so. But go on, Ollie, if you feel like you can handle it. Without a pair of…" Veil popped with her mouth. “Wet lips on you."

“I've done it before. I can do it again." Oliver was already under her spell. In such a poorly done way too. That was probably one of her lamest lines yet and he already ate it up.

“Let's just cut to the chase already!"

“Alright, fine!"

Veil giggled and hopped out of her chair. Before Oliver could sit himself on the bed, Veil already wrangled him around and shoved him onto it. Even his hands were too slow to undo his pants before she could.

“Careful with the–"

Veil shot him a stare and went to work on him. Hands were first, firmly gripping at his stirring cock. She pressed her face up to it and jerked him while her other hand rubbed at his balls. She knew enough about him to already bring him to a full erection.

“This is mine, you know that, right?" Veil said. Her lips teased to touch his cock.

“I–"

“Shh. I don't need you to say anything. Keep your words for business." Her grip tightened and she peppered kisses along his shaft. Oliver eased back, bracing himself on his elbows. “Not even sure you deserve this." Her words made his heart race, as embarrassing as that was. To think she wouldn't actually give what she had always provided so freely. Veil stuck out a tongue, holding it near the tip of his cock. “Well? Do you?"

Oliver didn't reply.

“No, you don't, do you?" Veil pulled her tongue back.

“I do." Oliver refrained from wincing.

“That's more like it. My poor big guy."

She opened her mouth wide, pressed her tongue against the underside of his cock, and took the length of it. Oliver groaned and sighed. The worries of his meeting instantly melted away. She had him around her finger way more than he would ever admit. Veil continued to massage at his balls while her other hand slithered up his shirt. She couldn't get very far, but the gentle kneading from her hand was enough to send more waves of chills across his body.

Oliver looked down at her, watching her effortlessly swallow his erection. Her eyes stared back at him, almost piercing through him. Occasionally they seemed to flicker in tandem with the pink of her ears. Just as he was going to ask, she took his entire length down to the base, running circles around it with her tongue. He melted a little more, uneasily keeping himself propped up.

Just when it became too unbearable, Veil quickly stopped and held him there. Oliver hissed. His hips wanted to buck forward, but they couldn't. A curl peeked up at her occupied lips. She was enjoying this. This was her payback. Her hand rubbed at his stomach a little more, a trickle of the pleasure he wanted.

Veil's throat slowly and gently undulated, starting at the tip of his erection. Oliver gripped the sheets.

“Fuck," Oliver groaned.

The movements grew more intense. Veil's robotic nature always had a way to rear its head at just the right time. She was able to expertly control how her throat moved around him. To add to her teasing, she produced all the little choking and gagging sounds one would expect. Her hand on his balls tightened. Oliver was allowed his release, shooting a stream of cum down Veil's throat. Not once did she break her gaze. He writhed and shot off another strand, and still, Veil remained stationary.

After Oliver was left a gasping mess, Veil finally popped off of his softening cock. She prodded at it with one hand as he lay there.

“You're welcome, big guy," she said.

“Crap, what time is it?" Oliver said, snapping upward.

Veil grabbed his sensitive bit. “Where's my thank you?"

“Sorry! Thank you. I've just gotta get going!"

“That's a little better." She released him and licked her hand. “Now get going before I make you do it again."

That wasn't a threat Oliver wanted to test her on. He hastily gathered himself, his things, and departed. Not before giving her a simple farewell and locking the door, of course. Maybe he should've taken a speedy shower, but maybe his cologne would hide the potential smell of any sex on him. Oliver practically stumbled out onto the busy street and headed off to his workplace as quickly as he could. A silent prayer that Veil would sit still kept playing over and over in his head.

_

Oliver sat still in a large board room, the kind he had only ever seen in movies. In a way it felt like he had “made it," whatever that meant. He was early, so the room was barren, save for an egg-shaped refreshment robot that sat near the door. Occasionally he would glance at it, and it would stare back.

Should he check his documents? No, no, if someone was observing, he'd seem unprepared. He had to stay cool. A little bit of the enjoyment from Veil's earlier pushiness rattled inside him, but it felt as though it was fading fast. Hold it together. You can do it. He folded his hands together and eyed the clock.

The older gentlemen in the meeting began filing in slowly. It wasn't too long before the table was nearly full. Oliver quickly became a small fish in a small pond, while all the more experienced businessmen settled around him. He gave his small talk, greetings, and nods as best as he could. This was it, the show was going to begin, and he'd be at the center of it.

Finally, the head honcho sat himself at the end of the table. Oliver couldn't place his name. Either that was nerves or nobody ever actually told him, it was hard to tell at this point. Oliver made himself as presentable as possible and sat up straight.

An older gentleman sat to his right whispered, “Ease up, don't want to look desperate."

Oliver returned a nod and tried to make himself more casual. As if he could do that. Nerves were getting the better of him. The boss at the end of the table set out his fancy papers, old-fashioned charts, and folded his hands together. He just needed the cat and he'd be even more intimidating.

“Gentlemen," the leader said.

Oliver perked up.

“Our think tank is assembled for the year," he continued. “Which includes some of our western employees, plucked from America." He subtly turned his head toward Oliver, causing him to nod. Keep it cool! Other people nodded as well. Competition? No, he didn't have to prove himself to anyone except his own higher ups. If things went well maybe he could expect a raise, or just keeping his job in general. Both were good!

Everyone around him began preparing their own papers, so Oliver followed. He briefly wondered if anyone else was going to show off any of the ideas he had prepared. Surely not, since his presentation was under the scrutiny of several people just to get here in the first place.

Oliver set aside the first folder from his case, and then the second, and then… He froze as his hand found no third folder. Or fourth. Or even his computer. Not even that tiny little storage device, his one failsafe. Oliver dryly swallowed and simply returned to his quiet sitting position. That was fine. He could do this on two layouts. Just have to remember what the fourth was, and the third. How they connected. Right.

He was screwed.

Probably left it behind in his blur of a departure. Should've never taken up Veil on her ridiculous offer. Oliver sat there, ramrod stiff, waiting for every presentation to go by, each one marking his death. Or at least unemployment. Basically death.

As Oliver fretted, he noticed a pinkish glow in the blurry windows that made up the room. A sheen of silver went by. No, not now. Oliver winced. He told her no. The door peeked open. A heel clad foot stepped in. Oliver furrowed his brow.

“Mr. Swanick?" the boss said. “Your presentation?"

“I will be speaking with Mr. Oliver as well," Veil said.

All heads swiveled toward the rat machine. She didn't flinch, instead quietly closing the door. Her ears flickered as she moved up to Oliver's side. In her hand was the missing folders, which she quietly placed in front of him. He wasn't sure whether to scream or to thank her.

“Is this… automaton part of your presentation?" the older gentleman to his left asked.

“I certainly am," Veil instantly replied. Rather than a quirky smirk, she was completely blank faced. She tugged on Oliver, breaking him out of some of his panic, and getting him to stand up. All eyes on him now.

“Yes, well, thank you, Veil," Oliver said. He looked to her briefly. Veil's outfit seemed to be office-like in nature, but on closer inspection seemed to be a cut up maid outfit. Alright, focus. “Now, I know we're a more old-fashioned, hard working company, and I don't seek to change that."

“Not one bit," Veil added.

“But data management can be tricky, even for the most professional of employees." He adjusted his tie to appear the part. “That's why I bring forward the idea of personalized AI partners to double check data based not only on context, but intent as well." He froze for a moment. “And this automaton here, is an extension of that idea."

“Is there a reason why it looks like a mouse?" one man asked.

“Rat," Veil said. “And yes, there is."

“Right." Oliver adjusted his tie again, giving his racing mind some time to think. “Right! Recently there was an offload of cheap–" Veil elbowed him “–inexpensive robotics to implement this AI personally into. Bringing this synthetic and human relationship to a higher degree by building trust with the very company you work for, via this machine directly."

A few men seemed impressed, others baffled, others amused. Oliver rattled on about his idea while occasionally checking his files to make certain he was on track. Veil continued to add her quips or steer Oliver on the right track with more nudges. If anything, the highest man in the rung here didn't seem to hate him, so that was better than what he expected.

“So, just think about it," Veil said. “Getting your own personal assistant for pennies on the dollar and one that'll always come through for you. Right?" She looked up at Oliver. It was a dead serious stare.

“Right," he replied.

A man spoke up, “And how much will this cost? You didn't give us the hard nu–"

“Far less than the queen's throne," Veil replied, mocking his English accent. She swung around to face him. “If you read the report, you'll find out all the hard numbers your little balding noggin wants." Her eyes narrowed.

“What she means is," Oliver started, “we can do everything in-house. No extra cost as we shift around workloads, and as we make more, the process gets cheaper. Heck, we could even sell or license out similar models."

“We're not in the field of robotics," another stuffy man replied. “What do you think shareholders will think when we pivot onto something like that?"

“They'll think you're expanding your business, Mr. Farrow," Veil replied. She slammed her hands down on the table.

“My name isn't–" The not-Mr. Farrow shook his head. “Where did you even cobble the funds to get this prototype, Mr. Swanick?"

“Consider a, uh, home project, sir. Proof of concept. Still working out the kinks."

“I'll work out your kinks," Veil mumbled. Her tail wrapped around Oliver's leg. She loudly cleared her throat and said, “Yes, and just think, I'm already fantastic!" Her head twitched. “Hard to think I could get any better," she said in a deep voice.

There was some chuckling among the group. Oliver's heart was still sinking, however. Something was wrong with her and here she was in front of the one group of people that could ruin his life. He thanked God nobody noticed her stolen makeshift dress just yet.

“Well, you understand the general idea," Oliver said. “A work assistant, programmed in-house, physically offloaded from elsewhere, encouraging work progress and keeping tabs on every employee. Or, no, not tabs, but progress reports."

“So, essentially, your idea is to reward employees with a… robot companion for the sake of improving productivity not only on a micro but a macro scale as well?" one asked.

“That's basically what I'm saying, yes." Oliver nodded.

“Certainly the most unique idea I've heard."

“Doesn't have to necessarily include the robotic element! We could focus on injecting these programs into our already running servers and still keep the one to one communication via any computer terminal."

The wizened boss at the end of the table squinted and said, “Would this robotic go-between necessarily have to be animal themed?" A few smirks wormed their way across everyone.

“No." Oliver swallowed. “Veil is simply one of the repurposed models I could get."

“I think I've seen one of those," one said.

“Yes! Well! A few had to be recalled for some faulty ah, voice chips, but it's not necessary to use this model specifically." Please, God, buy that excuse. Please.

“You'll wish you did, though," Veil said. “You'll be thinking to yourself 'Gosh, golly, gee, if only I had that fantastic and cute whirly gig Mr. Swanick showed off at the meeting.' " She slipped back into that mocking accent again.

“Ah, well, that concludes my presentation, and if you don't mind, I need to tend to the machinery," Oliver said. He looked to the man running the show. The boss gave a slow nod and waved him off. Oliver took a deep breath, gathered all his things, grabbed Veil by the hand, out the door, down the hall, and into a lobby area. Oliver let out all the built up air.

“What in the world are you doing here?" he asked.

Veil pulled her hand away. “Saving your ass, pal." She twitched. “Pal."

“That dress better not be what I think it is."

“Oh, OK, well I guess it isn't because you can barely think right now." She yanked a folder from his hand. “Who's the one who remembered this? Not you. Me. Veil. Me. Veil. Not you!"

“Look, alright, thank you. Are you feeling OK?" Oliver asked.

“I feel juuuuuuuust fine." Veil slowly closed her eyes. The lights on her body flashed again, then her eyes snapped open. “This air feel funny to you? It feels really funny…"

“Nothing is wrong with the–"

Veil grabbed his tie and yanked him downward. She pressed her mouth to his ear. “I think it's about time I got my reward. I made this lame suit, walked down so many blocks, and got your stuff together. Time for me to get off, Mr. Swanick." Her voice was deep and husky, lacking that joking air it usually did.

“We can't. Not here. We can go back to the hotel."

“We're not going to the fucking hotel." Veil nibbled on his ear. “We're going somewhere closer." In a flash she spun around and tugged him onward.

Oliver only stumbled along, too scared to make scene and attract any attention. He couldn't keep count of how many prayers he had uttered quietly this day, and another volley of them were let out into the world as he stumbled down the hall. They rounded a corner in front of two bathrooms. Veil looked between them briefly, then slammed through into the men's room.

“If anyone's in here, get the hell out now!" Veil said. No reply came. “Good." A click of the door and they were sealed in.

“No, no, no, we cannot do this here. I almost just died out there."

“And if we don't, you'll die in here."

Oliver couldn't tell if that was a joke. It was probably a joke, right? Veil yanked him into the first stall and locked them in.

“On the seat," Veil said.

There was no way out of this. Oliver set the seat down and sat. Veil was already wriggling out of her makeshift dress, letting the loose fabric fall to the floor. She was mostly bare, of course, but Oliver's body reacted all the same to her undressing. He hated it. Physically, he loved it.

“There's a good boy," Veil said. She pressed a hand up against his stiffening erection. “That's exactly what I want from you." Her other hand made quick work of his pants, letting his cock flop free. “Oh, look at you, always saying no, and yeah, like always, fat dick ready to go." She jittered, then firmly grasped it. “So, so ready."

“Let's just finish up, alright?" Oliver asked.

“You don't get to say a thing."

“Why not?"

“Again, I saved your ass." Veil knelt down and gave him a few prodding licks. Oliver sighed, already unwinding under her touch. “I get to have all the fun that I want." She was already stroking him fervently, face firmly pressed against his groin and licking at his balls. Fine, it would be done quickly, then. Oliver held back his groans. The vulnerability of someone bursting in remained, yet added a delectable fire to their illicit touch.

Just when Oliver felt the wave of relief coming, Veil stopped, her hand and tongue withdrew. Her head still nestled between his leg, eyes watching his erection twitch. Then she waited a few seconds and warmly sighed on his groin. Oliver grunted and grit his teeth. She smiled.

“That's what it's like," she said.

“What?"

“That's what it's like to be me. Just waiting to get off. Every time you say no, it feels just–" she heaved, sending another warm spark through him, “–like that."

“Look, I'm sorry."

“There's no need to be sorry, you're making up for it."

“Just let me finish." Oliver's legs shifted. “Please."

“No." Veil flicked his cock, causing him to wince. “I don't think I will, big guy."

Oliver sighed and looked to the stall door. No one had burst in yet, but how long would that last? Veil tugged his chin back down to look at her. The rat's eyes flickered more erratically now. She grabbed his dick again. There was an added twitch to her grasp, keeping his libido bubbling.

“You know what the weird thing is? I really like you," Veil said. “You should just be my owner guy, but, I really, really like you." She smiled and returned to jerking him off. “You're a nice guy, Oliver."

“Thank you." I guess.

“But don't let that go to your head." She stopped and tightened her grip. “I'm a girl with her own needs." Veil moved to suck him off, quickly slathering him in spit. Who knew how many times she had done this, ran her tongue around his penis, but it never lost its luster. For all her ditzy movements, it was clear she was skilled by the way her tongue and mouth moved in unison. She loudly slurped, no doubt to cause the sound to echo around. That was her thing, her enjoyment. To cause Oliver to squirm as much as she could.

In-between her bobbing, there was a gentle shake of the bathroom entrance. Oliver wanted to freeze, but couldn't. His whole body continued to squirm under Veil's tongue. She smiled.

“What would they think, huh?" she whispered.

“Don't say anything," Oliver replied.

“I wanna sooooo badly. Just yell soooooooo loud." Veil smiled. “But I'm not gonna do that. That's your job, my big guy." She gave him another round of sucking, then loudly popped off of his erection. The sound, coupled with the sensation caused his heart to leap. Veil raised a hand up to his chest.

“We have to finish. Now."

“We will."

Veil straddled him, pressing her folds up against his cock. Oliver braced himself on the wall of the stall. She did the same and placed her hand over his. Of course, she smiled. Her other hand guided his cock into her. Oliver sighed as her walls already squeezed tightly against him. The tension unwinded. He needed this and he hated it.

Taking her time, Veil slid slowly all the way down. Once she had taken his whole member, she slowly gyrated her hips. Oliver gently humped against her as she did. His hands balled into fists. He hissed. Veil mocked his hissing and giggled. Then she grabbed his shirt and wildly slammed up and down on him. The stall shook, the bathroom echoed with slaps. Oliver's own apprehension melted as his free hand landed on her hips, helping her along.

That small body did everything it could. Oliver wanted so desperately to thrust into her, to take her wildly. He was just about ready to release into her, and then…

Veil's tail wrapped tightly under his balls and over his cock, he twitched and groaned. Veil slid upward, the tip of his cock was all that remained in her. That release was so close. Oliver grit his teeth.

“Fuck," he said.

“I know! That's what you want, but…" Veil ran a finger down his dick. “First you gotta say something for me."

“Veil–" Another stroke. “Alright, fine! Fucking hell." His groin boiled, he wanted to slam into her. That edge of an orgasm was so close. He groaned and shook his head.

“You have to say you love having me around. You gotta say you're happy I'm here. Annnnnnnd you gotta say that I saved your job." That tail loosened so, so slightly. Oliver could feel himself ooze. Then it wrapped right back up. “That's all. Or we can sit here for a while."

“OK, yes!" Oliver nodded. “I love having your around, Veil." He let out another grunt. “And… and… I'm so happy you followed me, and you definitely saved my job."

“Saved your ass!"

“Yes! That's right. You saved my ass."

“Hm. Yeah, that's good."

Veil slid downward with a giggle and unwrapped her tail. Oliver grabbed her hips and yanked her as far downward as she would go. He let out a long gasp in tandem with her as his twitching hips bucked against her. Rope after rope of cum shot inside her. Veil drunkenly giggled and lay on his chest. Oliver ran a hand up her back, other firmly on her ass. His hips continued to buck, driven by that pent up lust. He thrust one last time.

“Fuck," he said.

_

Oliver sat in his hotel room on the bed. Veil sat right next to him, flicking through television channels. She still had that odd, dominant demeanor about her, so he quietly resigned himself to his current fate. Suddenly, there was a chirping from Veil.

“Oh! I'm low on power," she said.

“I thought you did that remotely?" he asked.

“I shooooooould, buuuuuuut…" She perked up. “Oh, I needed to push a switch somewhere." Her eyes went blank, along with the rest of her lights. “Mhmm, mhmm. No wonder this European air feels weird. Did you know they have some silly power differences going on?" She brightly lit up again. “Mmm, yummy!"

Oliver furrowed his brow. “Is everything alright?"

“Oh, yup, charging now! And the funny thing in my head tells me that my 'expression and vocal intent recognition' is back up! I don't know what that does, though." She shrugged and went back to channel surfing.

“Like… understanding intent behind words and facial expressions?" Oliver asked.

“I guess, I 'unno."

“So, back there at the office."

“Yeah? You loved that, huh? I didn't think you would be into fucking at the office, but boy, you are kinky!"

“But I said, you know, not to."

“But you didn't mean that, I totally knew you wanted it. Fun to be on top for once! Maybe a little too fun." She elbowed him lightly. “We should do that again sometime."

“Alright. OK. Fine." Oliver rubbed his forehead. At least it wasn't a permanent thing. “Well, thanks for showing up."

“I know, you told me."

“Yeah, but– Never mind."

“You think they'll actually do your thing?"

“Not a chance."