[Disclaimer: I am a Democrat and this fic is making fun of the right-wing meme.]
November 2021
Once again, Juniper had been starving Larry for sex. This was their longest dry spell yet - going on nearly a month. Larry was feeling absolutely famished, and worried that he'd die - again - and be scolded by his father - again - upon resurrection. So depleted was Larry that even helping his mother Jane shave her back and backside wasn't enough to kill his appetite, and the ride home in his Buick made him resentful that he couldn't get his needs met from his real car, the Bentley safely locked up in the garage.
After he came in from visiting his mother to assist with the noxious chore of back-and-ass-shaving, he found Juniper sitting on the couch, doing something or other on her laptop.
"Helloeth, dearesteth," Larry said in his best sugary voice. He'd stopped on the way home to pick up a bouquet of tigerlilies, hoping it would sweeten his chances of putting an end to the sex drought.
Juniper didn't even look up from her computer. "Hey, Lar," she mumbled.
If there was one thing Larry hated even worse than being called "Larry" - it was Laurentius, dammit, though now he had enough money to consider changing his name to Larentinius, which sounded even more elegant - it was being called "Lar". Larry grit his teeth into a very fake smile. "Sweetingest, wouldest thou careth to maketh love? I got all workedeth uppeth thinking of thee on the wayeth homest."
"I have a migraine," Juniper said, furiously typing something on her laptop.
Larry raised an eyebrow. He was no doctor, but he was sure that if it were an actual migraine, Juniper would not be online doing whatever it was she was doing - commenting on fanfic, probably - and would be laying in a dark room. Larry folded his arms. "I seeth."
Juniper said nothing - it was as if Larry wasn't even there - and she continued typing.
Larry put a hand on his hip. He was feeling downright insulted now, and nobody got away with insulting Laurentius Hortler, except his mother and father, and... OK, Juniper too, sometimes. "Thou art ableth to typest upon thy laptopeth, but thou have a migraine."
Juniper finally stopped typing, put her laptop down, and folded her hands in her lap, blinking slowly. "Lar, babe, do we have to have this conversation?"
That angered Larry even more than if she had continued to say nothing at all. Larry indignantly stamped his foot; he was very close to being done with this whole charade. "I canst findeth other partners to satisfyeth my needs, thou knoweth." That wasn't entirely true - there was nobody suitable in this hick town, and his father kept him busy enough he didn't have time to browse various online dating services - but it was still a threat Larry needed to make.
Before Juniper could respond, Larry threw the bouquet at her and flounced off to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. He flopped on his bed to sulk. Alone.
_
For the next several days, Larry and Juniper didn't see much of each other. When Larry came home from the carnival or the lab, Juniper was usually on the couch, reading fanfic or playing one of her games, but unusually for her she was nowhere to be found... and Larry was still angry, enough that he didn't dig too deeply into her whereabouts.
But at last, six days later, just as Larry was about to go to the garage to have some "quality time" with his car, Juniper came up from the basement and said, "Hey Lar, I have a present for you."
Larry followed Juniper down into the cellar, feeling wary. He hoped it wasn't going to be something like a playpen and a onesie, it was so denigrating. But to his surprise and delight it was the very opposite of that. There was a beautiful man waiting for him on the bench outside of the laundry room, a man straight out of his fantasies. A flood of wonderful cinnabar hair. Glorious bronze eyes. Skin like milk. Magnificent cheekbones and beautiful eyebrows. And the man was wearing an exquisite, expensive tuxedo, even a real platinum Rolex watch.
Larry gasped at the sight of him. His cock immediately went hard.
"This is Brandon," Juniper said, gesturing to the gorgeous man sitting quietly on the bench. "Say hello, Brandon."
"Hello, Brandon," the man said.
Juniper facepalmed. Larry frowned - he didn't think that was very funny. Then Juniper whacked Brandon on the back and said, "I still have to iron out a few kinks in his programming."
"Programming?" Larry was confused.
"Yeah." Juniper rocked back on her heels. "You remember how I was Nerdanel in my past life? The sculptor?"
"Yes..."
"Well, I tapped into those old talents, but given a new spin for the modern age. This is my creation, Brandon. He's a robot." Juniper cocked her head to one side. "He's your new best friend."
"Oheth?"
"When you told me you can find other partners to satisfy your needs... this is a pre-approved partner to do just that with. I don't want you running off with someone else, like Sören did."
As much as Larry hated Sören - that sullen brat, so unrefined - he also knew that Juniper had her events wrong; Sören had come home to find Juniper in bed with other people, Larry included, and then he'd left. But Larry wasn't going to correct her misremembered history. He was too enthralled by the beauty of Juniper's creation, Brandon. For once, Juniper hadn't been completely useless.
Then reality smacked Larry in the face. He was with Juniper not so much out of attraction, as needing someone to steal life force from - like his mother Jane did with her boytoy, Jeff. If his headaches and exhaustion and constant hunger were just from lack of sexual release, he could have gotten off with his luxury car several times over and been fine. But he needed a live person to drain.
Then again... Nerdanel had imbued her sculptures with a little of her own life force, back in the old world, and looking into Brandon's molten bronze eyes, Larry could tell Juniper had drawn on that same ancient magic. Brandon had a spark of life, from Juniper's life force. It wasn't quite the same as having a real human body to fuck, but Larry was sure he could get some nourishment, just a little to tide him over until Juniper was interested again.
"He art programmedest, thou say? Doth he followest commands?"
Juniper nodded. "I was about to get to that." Juniper turned to the Brandon robot and clapped her hands. "Get ready, Brandon!"
"As you wish." Brandon stood up, undid his belt, and dropped his trousers and briefs to reveal an erect cock.
Juniper squealed with delight. "Let's go, Brandon!"
Brandon threw Juniper down on the floor, mounted her, and began to rut. Juniper bucked her hips back at Brandon, panting and whimpering - the sound of her wetness implied she'd been horny for awhile, had possibly even already masturbated or had sex with Brandon - and Larry felt that indignant flare again, that instead of approaching him for sex, she was with a damned robot first.
But he was pent-up enough that he couldn't afford to walk away and refuse the gift. So he stayed and watched, until Juniper screamed, "Yes, Brandon, yes! Good boy!", her whole body shuddering.
When Brandon pulled out of Juniper, his cock was still hard, and wet with her juices. That would suffice for lube. "Lettest us goeth, Brandon," Larry commanded.
Brandon stood there, blinking.
"No," Juniper said. "It's 'let's go, Brandon' -"
Just before Brandon could throw Juniper down again, Juniper yelled, "Stop, Brandon!" and then she turned back to Larry, looking at him like she was talking to a very slow child. "Now you say it."
Larry sighed. He hated lowering himself like this, even worse than the baby costume. "Let's go, Brandon."
Brandon threw Larry down on the floor; Larry spread his legs and Brandon pushed inside. A few minutes later, Larry was in ecstasy, coming all over Brandon's beautiful tuxedo shirt and jacket as he siphoned from the spark of Nerdanel's fëa. "Yea, Brandon! Verily! Forsooth!"
_
A week and a half later, Larry was utterly besotted with Brandon. While he tried to tell himself to be logical - Brandon was just a sexbot, albeit one with just enough of Juniper's life force to sustain him - Larry couldn't help but be enchanted by the cinnabar hair, the bronze eyes, the perfectly milk-pale sculpted body like an ancient statue. Brandon looked good in a tux, just like the rentboy of his casino-setting fantasies.
Good enough to show off in public, and show the peons of Terre Haute what refined, elegant, expensive taste he had. Larry was just as much in love with the idea of taking Brandon out so others could notice his gorgeous arm-trophy. Yesseth, that art mine, Larry thought to himself smugly as he paraded Brandon around at the supermarket, the dry cleaner, and taking him for romantic walks in the park, all with Brandon dolled up in his tuxedo. I paideth for him. Looketh at how expensivest he arteth.
Larry, of course, had not paid a dime for Brandon, but Larry still considered Brandon paid for in the blood, sweat and tears of putting up with Juniper as long as he had.
Now Larry could do something even better than pump quarters into claw machines and buy off all the shelf-stable caviar at Meijer, to show everyone how rich he was. So it was that Larry made reservations for Terre Haute's finest, Lonestar Steakhouse, to take his new boytoy on a proper date.
When Larry and Brandon got there, Larry's face fell - he'd forgotten that the place had televisions. Howeth common, he sniffed as he and Brandon were seated. But then, he knew he couldn't expect much in a backwater dump such as this one. Peasants everywhere. They were all staring at him and Brandon, both ridiculously overdressed for the establishment in tuxedos, and Larry hoped they were eating their hearts out with envy, and felt humbled in the presence of a living god such as he.
The meal was passable - of course Brandon did not eat, but sat there with his chin propped up on his hand, gazing at Larry adoringly - and as Larry debated whether or not to get dessert, his cell phone rang. Larry reluctantly took it out, hoping it wasn't important... and it was his mother. If he ignored the call, he'd never hear the end of it.
He swiped to accept. "Helloeth." He got up and walked down to the restrooms to give himself privacy, in case it were something sensitive like his father needing help at the lab.
"Laurentius," Jane whined, "can you come over tonight? I need to shave my back."
"Againeth?" He had just been there a few days ago.
"Yes, again. Hair grows, you know."
Larry cringed; he knew what would happen if Jane's back - and backside - wasn't shaved regularly. He shuddered. "I art on a dateth, surely it canst waiteth untilest the morroweth?"
"No, because Jeff and I have special plans tomorrow. I need it shaved tonight."
Larry pinched the bridge of his nose. He was a grown man - whatever Juniper's baby fetish - and he resented that his mother thought her "special plans" with Jeff was more important than his own date with Brandon. "Mothereth."
"TONIGHT, LAURENTIUS."
"Okayeth. Giveth me one hour." Larry hit End before his mother could insist on "right now", and stormed back to the table.
He was just in time for Fox News, playing on the TV sets, to be showing footage of President Joe Biden. The patrons began to jeer, and then a couple of them started shouting, "Let's go, Brandon!"
Brandon got up from the table. What was happening clicked in Larry's mind just a little too late.
"LET'S GO, BRANDON!" Patrons clapped and pounded the tables. "LET'S GO, BRANDON!"
Brandon undid his belt and his trousers, freeing his hard cock. Overwhelmed by so many people yelling out his sex command, Brandon marched from one table to the other, rubbing his cock against the table. Patrons stopped yelling "let's go, Brandon" and started screaming slurs and insults, or "PUT YOUR PANTS BACK ON!" and "PUT THAT THING AWAY!" but Brandon could only do as he had been commanded.
Larry came over to try to drag Brandon away; Brandon's robotic strength came out as he shoved Larry off, knocking him to the ground, just before Brandon put his cock in a custard pie and began thrusting into it.
"Stoppeth, Brandon!"
Brandon kept humping away, making fake grunts of sexual pleasure.
Larry tried it again: "Stoppeth! Stoppeth!" But of course, Brandon had been programmed for exact commands only. Finally, Larry's mind allowed him to use the correct word. "Stop, Brandon!"
Brandon stopped fucking the pie and looked around, before turning back to Larry.
Larry grabbed Brandon by the arm and made a mad dash for the exit. He hadn't paid yet, and arguably the best part of any restaurant meal was producing his platinum credit card for everyone to see - but it didn't matter. It didn't even matter that Brandon hadn't put his pants back on yet, and his permanently-hard robot cock was hanging out, bobbing with each step. It was covered in custard, but still very obviously a hard cock.
They almost got to Larry's Buick before a police car pulled in. Before Larry could scramble into his car and tear off, the police car flashed its lights and sirens, speeding up to pull right in front of Larry and Brandon.
And that was how Larry found himself pushed down onto the hood of his car, hands cuffed behind his back. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law..."
_
The four hours Larry waited in jail before his father came to bail him out, were some of the longest in Larry's life.
Marion Allendale was wearing sunglasses indoors to disguise his inhuman lavender-grey eyes, which Larry had inherited and used glamour to conceal in public, at his father's insistence - Larry didn't like being normal, and looking like everyone else, but it was a small price to pay for eternal world domination in the end. Right now, Larry felt light years away from that goal. He had never been so humiliated, sitting there in a jail cell with drunks.
Marion had nothing to say at first. His body language spoke for him, folded arms and stern scowl. He grabbed Larry by the tails of his tuxedo, marching them out of the police station. Marion's fury was still nothing compared to how enraged Jane would be to miss her back-shaving appointment, however.
Brandon walked alongside them. Marion pointed to the back seat of his car - Larry was not allowed to ride in the front as he normally did, but was relegated to the back like a child. At least he would be sitting with his beloved Brandon.
This was all Juniper's fault, with her shoddy programming. Larry seethed, clenching his fists, longing for the day when he could replace her with a new source of more potent life force energy and drain her one last time, putting her lights out. But before he could lean in to give Brandon a kiss, Marion leaned in over Brandon and felt around until he found Brandon's off button. Larry gasped with horror as Brandon's head lowered and his eyes closed. "Nayeth..."
Marion slammed the front door once he got in. He waited until they were out of the parking lot and onto the road to speak. "I am having him deactivated and scrapped for parts -"
"Pleaseth -"
"And you." Marion took off his sunglasses and his eyes blazed in the rear-view mirror, almost white. "If you hadn't had such a need to show off, you wouldn't be in this mess." Marion sneered. "You should consider yourself lucky that I pay the police in this town, otherwise you'd be looking at jail time and having to register as a sex offender. But you're going to be careful from now on. Next time, I'll let you fall. The only reason why I even tolerate your sorry, pompous ass is because of the deal I made with your mother a long time ago, but you had better never forget who's the boss here. You are replaceable."
Larry swallowed hard. "Yesseth, sir."
"And another thing. Why do you talk like that? If you're going to pretend to be Shakespeare, at least do it right."
I will showeth thee. Thou won't getteth away with this. But Larry kept his ire to himself. For now, he needed to at least feign loyalty to his father. The fact was, he also saw his father as replaceable and once the world was conquered, he'd claim it for himself, as God-emperor of mankind.
It was a long way till then, and for now, Larry looked away, watching the streets of Terre Haute in the golden glow of the streetlights, letting himself shed a single tear for his lost love, Brandon. Oh, what could have been.
Larry stroked his chin. Maybe if he paid Juniper, she could craft him another robot. One with a less flawed command system. Larry knew Juniper's price would be steep - probably another Baby Larry session, at least - but it would be worth it to recapture the magic he had with Brandon.
Perhaps this one would have even more fëa. And that presented interesting possibilities...