Wasabi: A Boom-Boom Joint

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm obviously not the first to have a special affection for one of the more popular stories in our archive, Propman's "BoomBoom Bots." I'd like to thank Propman for allowing me to bring you this new adventure of Boom-Boom and her long-suffering Man Friday, Chad.

Boom-Boom has asked me to inform you that she knows very well she's a bit of a jive turkey. But she rolls with her programmed persona because it gets her what she wants… most of the time. Case in point:

"The fuck is UP with this shit?" Her voice—simultaneously melodic, powerful, and stereotypically "ghetto"—cut through the air.

"Can't be helped, Boom-Boom," said the meek, bespectacled thirtysomething man as he hurried down the street in the rain. In front of him strode a tall, athletic twentysomething woman who seemed to be his boss, and certainly regarded herself as such. The two cut a striking contrast: he a short, pale, Caucasian redhead in an ill-fitting business suit; she Black, beautiful, and garishly dressed in an off-the-shoulder sweater, sequined halter top, sunglasses, lipstick, shiny red short-shorts, and—somehow—tennis shoes. She wore her hair in dreads this week; they bounced as she strode along. The dreads seemed almost cheerful in spite of her foul mood, as if to indicate that Boom-Boom's snit-fit was somehow artificial.

Of course, everything ABOUT Boom-Boom was artificial. Meek and unassuming Chad Kalmeski may have been, but he was in fact Boom-Boom's creator. Nine months prior, Chad had won $350,000 in a lottery rub-off game and his life had, in effect, changed completely. The idea seemed innocent at first: a schoolboyish fan of 1970s blaxploitation movies, Chad had always fantasized about being loved and—frankly—dominated by the films' righteously defiant, impossibly gorgeous lady gangsters.

Until just a few years ago the very idea would have been impossible; but today Chad could take $279,999.80 to the ReVerse android firm, pass it quietly to a techie—a friend-of-a-friend, as it were—and have such a girl synthetically designed for him. ReVerse would never officially have worked with gangsters, of course, let alone created one. But when enough palms were greased, a few mischievous programmers were willing to build Boom-Boom to Chad's slightly embarrassing specifications, then deliver her to his warehouse squat; supposedly her hideout, actually a disused building in a seedy part of town.

Chad's amazement when—within hours—Boom-Boom successfully commandeered a nightclub as a new base paled when she unnecessarily flirted with the owner, provoking him into a gunfight and creating unnecessary risks. And, of course, Boom-Boom bawled Chad out for his interference, calling him her bitch for the first of many times.

Yet as scary as the moment was, it was also powerful; a fusion of Chad's imaginary world with his inner submissive instinct. He had never expected to deal with the reality of lawbreaking; yet here he was helping to run Shadow Club, an illegally-owned casino, the entire establishment under constant threat. Was it all worth it?

Regardless, Boom-Boom ruled Chad's world. From an accountant—for that was what he had been before—the middle-aged man became second-in-command to a smart, aggressive, stylish and intuitive woman who was nevertheless as sophisticated, as sexually faithful, and as emotionally mature as a junior high dropout. She knew of her robotic nature but thought little of it, save for the advantages it gave her in a fight. Otherwise Boom-Boom lived like a human, for that was how she was programmed—taking solace in tobacco, liquor and other items that she had no actual need for; nor any true ability to taste, or so Chad believed. It was all about image.

Did she have a true ability to feel at all?

"Look… I mean, LOOK at this shit," Boom-Boom snapped, waving her arms and staring at herself in a reflective shop window. "The rain is FUCKING up my sequined top. It doesn't even reflect no more. We ain't fit to go to that music store now. Where's my umbrella, bitch?" She glared at Chad.

Though intimidated, Chad was excited simply by the fact that Boom-Boom cared about trivial aspects of her appearance. At the moment, however, the situation was more than trivial. They were on their way to demand Boom-Boom's protection money from a newly opened music store, whose management hadn't yet met the new mob leader in person. Would it have to wait? Chad had no umbrella. "I-I… er, left it at home—"

"You lose, dumbass. …Thanks, dog." Boom-Boom grabbed an umbrella from a random man as he brushed past her on the street.

"Hey, lady!" snapped the man, a hefty chain-smoker with an obvious beer gut. "Who the hell are you?"

"Boom-Boom is in the house, holmes," she grinned, seductively laying her wrists on the man's shoulders. "And you ain't." She suddenly yanked the man forward with both hands and kneed him hard in his prominent belly. Then she wheeled around and coolly strolled away.

Stunned by the incident, Chad hoped to stay out of the man's sight and avoid any further violence. He failed. Recovering, the man saw the newbie gangster hustling along, trying to stay close to Boom-Boom. The man shouted at Chad. "Why, you… hey, DICKHEAD! Is that allowed where your girl comes from? I'm gonna SUE the SHIT out of—"

"He ain't my BOYFRIEND, you dumb fu—" Boom-Boom started to respond. Chad noticed her reaching for her pocket, where a Glock was not very well concealed. Desperately, Chad grabbed Boom-Boom by the hand and wrenched her ahead and around the corner, yanking her so hard that she nearly fell on him.

"Don't you PULL me, fool!" the tall woman impudently grabbed her creator, pinning his arms to his sides. "Boom-Boom makes the decisions here. An' I'm gonna smoke who I—"

"Not today," Chad anxiously tried to sound strong. "That guy wasn't even a thug. Just a… just a GUY. We've never hurt a man without mob connections. If we did, I… I don't know where we'd end up. So let's not."

"'Cause you're a PUSSY," Boom-Boom shouted, leaning her chin on his head as she held him. "I can't believe I put UP with this shit. …God, that girl is FINE. I should get with her just to teach you a lesson, punk."

Huh? Girl?! For a moment Chad was disoriented by Boom-Boom's sudden change of topic. Then he noticed that his boss had met with a distraction. As per her programming, cute members of either gender effortlessly set off her libido at any time. She was now predatorily eying a waitress inside a streetcorner sushi restaurant. The woman, picking up a tray of fish at an inside counter, paid no attention to the spectacle outside.

Suddenly Chad noticed the shadow of Boom-Boom's erstwhile target looming behind them. In moments he would round the corner and see them, unless…

"I don't think you CAN get with that woman, Bee-Bee," Chad blurted out, as if offering her a dare. "You're… really cute, but you can't seduce just anybody."

"The fuck I CAN'T. Nnh. Work with me, asshole." Boom-Boom relaxed her grip on Chad and turned to enter the restaurant. Desperate Chad inelegantly hurried her along from behind, momentarily tripping and falling forward to bump his nose on the android's back. For a moment he was hit with her scent, an inviting mix of cocoa butter skin cream and strong, cheap perfume.

"Hmph! Don't make me hurt y'all," Boom-Boom reprimanded, letting out a tense breath of air as if she were the last person left on Earth with manners. It always amazed Chad that she was capable of such lifelike breathing—to say nothing of her lifelike ignorance of how bad her own manners were.

"Two please, honey," Boom-Boom turned her attention to the waitress. "Unless you're wantin' to make it three." She extended a finger and deliberately stroked the woman on the upper arm. The waitress paled, unsure of how to respond.

"You supposed to say 'yes ma'am, 'cause you got it goin' ON.'" Now it was Chad's turn to pale. He gave the waitress a quick, searching look. The sympathetic young woman caught his eye.

"Eh… Meisa… two… uh… two people, here, this way." She gestured to herself, indicating her name was Meisa. But it was clear she didn't have much knowledge of—

"You're in America, baby. Speak American," smirked Boom-Boom, swaying her hips and gently patting the startled waitress' butt as she led them toward a back hallway. Speak American? Chad never failed to be surprised by the cultural concepts Boom-Boom had picked up. She was simultaneously one of the most advanced, yet one of the least dignified robots in history.

Chad realized Meisa was leading them toward a tatami room, a secluded back room where guests could eat in relative privacy. Evidently, Meisa had taken Chad's glance to mean that he wanted some privacy for himself and Boom-Boom—no doubt in a spot where Boom-Boom couldn't embarrass Chad in front of other customers. This was perfect; it would also keep them secluded until Boom-Boom's erstwhile rival on the street outside had given up and moved on. His robot gang-girl could hardly cause trouble here—

"Ha, just LOOK at this, fool! What were they thinkin' of?" Boom-Boom, louder than she'd been in hours, had just seen her first authentic 19th-century-style Japanese table, an item generally restricted to tatami rooms in this country. It rose up only a foot off the ground, but had an inset area underneath, enabling guests to sit on the floor, dangling their legs beneath the table.

Chad couldn't help but smile shyly. "Like this, Bee-Bee." He sat down on the floor, pulled a cushion up to his butt and extended his feet under the table.

"Don't you give me orders, bitch," Boom-Boom glared at him as she awkwardly imitated Chad's movement. Much as she would have liked to seem in control, the android had clearly never done anything like this—nor did she have any reference images implanted in her mind. Her power over her world was gone. Doffing her sunglasses, she awkwardly strained to get her long, perfect legs under the table, bending down so far that her huge bosom almost strained its way out of her top. "Sometimes a girl's asked to do somethin' unreasonable. Somethin' unreasonable. Somethin' unreasonable. Somethin' unreasonable."

She groped around her for a cushion, seized one—and froze. Her system had crashed.

Chad froze as well. Any time it seemed Boom-Boom was completely human, these robot reminders always popped up. And with them came a fear: what if the word got around that the local mob boss was a gynoid? Even worse, what if ReVerse caught wind of her illicit origin? Boom-Boom's first victim, her nightclub's former owner, had absolutely learned she was a robot, but she had forced him to skip town immediately after, threatening him into silence. If others found out without her knowledge, however, there were myriad ways they could make things difficult.

Chad remembered what to do. He leaned over the table, reached behind the girl's head and pushed a reset button under the back of her skull. He hoped—no, prayed this would work as usual.

"…asked to do somethin' unreasonable. Get your HANDS off me, you little PUNK! The fuck are you doin'?" Not realizing she had been reset, she gave Chad a resounding slap on the face. Whining in spite of himself, he winced hard—so hard that an involuntary tear rolled down his cheek.

A moment passed. A subroutine sent Boom-Boom through her own involuntary twitch.

"Aw… baby. Boom-Boom didn't mean to. We're cool. …Mmm." As she leaned forward, her bare legs touched Chad's under the low table. A different kind of sensory input took place.

"Nobody hurts Boom-Boom's bitch but Boom-Boom," she purred, getting markedly sultry. Continuing to rub her legs against his, she extended a long, smooth arm and reached across the table to stroke the back of Chad's neck, as if she were petting a puppy. "You always do what I want, an' you're Boom-Boom's special boy toy. You down with that?"

God, yes, thought Chad. Being made the toy of this robot… this powerful person who had transformed from being his own toy was so fascinating.

"I said, you DOWN with that, slut boy?" Impatient Boom-Boom slapped him on the ass. "I ain't got all day. Unnh." With a sensuous hum, she began to massage Chad's butt; then she leaned forward to catch his eye and flash him a startlingly clever half-smile.

And it was at that moment that Meisa walked back into the tatami room, almost gasping at the rather private scene she had interrupted. With her was a huge tray of assorted sushi rolls, ginger, and wasabi.

"Comp'iments of house," she said awkwardly, glancing repeatedly down at Boom-Boom's pocket. It was plainly visible as she leaned over the table. Chad's blood momentarily ran cold. Meisa must have seen the Glock's outline earlier and realized the possibility of violence. Now she and her management must be trying to buy her guests' calm. "Comp'iments of… of house."

"Oh, Boom-Boom can give you compliments, baby," Boom-Boom grinned at Meisa and began to wiggle in place in her sitting position, as if doing a seductive little dance without standing up. "I know you like what you see. Yo! You REALLY gotta come be one of us, girl."

Boom-Boom whirled to face Chad, transforming him from love interest into accessory. "Damn," she smirked at him conspiratorially while cocking a thumb at Meisa. "Girl even SMELLS good." Meisa, still standing inches away by the door, was clearly unsure of what was being said, but visibly more intimidated than ever. With a quick, blushing "I'm sorry," to Chad, she was gone.

Naturally Boom-Boom blamed her hasty departure on Chad. "Now LOOK what you went an' made her DO," she glowered at him. "Like what the FUCK, bitch? Ain't you my wingman? I PUNISH punks who get between me an' a hot piece of ass. Y'all KNOW Boom-Boom WILL make you clean her boots an' shit. Ha, I may even feel like hittin' you with one o' THESE." She absently grabbed a piece of sushi off the plate, threatened to throw it at Chad, then stuffed it into her mouth.

"The… fuck," said Boom-Boom.

Chad watched, transfixed, as she slowly turned a slice of rice, imitation crab, and hot wasabi around in her mouth. The robot gangster girl had been carefully built to allow the ingesting of human food. She could taste, but she couldn't appreciate really complex foods, could she? Yet she was clearly able to sense the sushi's temperature and its fascinating, unusual texture. Maybe she even felt the wasabi's spice? Sushi, like its setting, was close to nothing she had yet experienced; and more so than the tatami room, it was clearly fascinating to her.

"This is a fucking TRIP," she announced. "Boom-Boom ought to own this joint. Gimme." She grabbed another roll and awkwardly ingested it. Then a third. By this point, sauce and white goo were starting to dribble down her chin. She hadn't had a huge amount of experience with eating in the past, only ever having done it to make an impression.

"Y-you got some THERE," Chad uneasily pointed at her chin.

"Speak when spoken to, bitch," she snapped. "How Y'ALL like it?" She grabbed another sushi roll slice and smeared it slowly across Chad's chin. Then she let out a sly, schoolgirlish giggle. Chad raised an eyebrow.

She picked up another slice and threateningly whipped it past Chad's face, purposely missing him by a hair. The moment he looked away, she whipped it past him again. She was clearly bringing it as near as possible without touching, just to playfully startle him. She winked at him and stuck her tongue out.

For a moment Chad thought he had fallen off the planet. He had never experienced this realistically playful subroutine in Boom-Boom's entire electronic existence. Deciding he had nothing to lose, he slowly picked up a sushi roll himself, grinned innocently, and rubbed it on Boom-Boom's chin.

"Ha-ha-ha! Y-you don't DARE, fool. Ha-ha!" The tough gangster was suddenly a charmingly mischievous, flirty high school kid. "Get outta THIS one." She rubbed a gob of wasabi around on Chad's nose, leaving him with a messy, multicolored nose—and watery eyes. She had clearly deduced wasabi had some special reaction.

Rubbing his eyes, Chad himself became schoolboy-like, glaring petulantly at the tall, smug girl across from him. Then he had his own clever idea. "Nickel in the slot," grinned Chad, grabbing an extra-messy sushi slice and dropping it right down the front of Boom-Boom's top.

This rather rude move was, in fact, the most forward act Chad had ever committed to Boom-Boom, sexually or otherwise. Indeed, he had never been this bold with the imposing lady gangster since her creation. But something about her present mood suggested it was perfectly okay to act like her immature childhood boyfriend.

"Gotcha last, PUNK!" Boom-Boom yelled, grabbing her cushion and slamming Chad with it joyously. Her sensual subroutines in some kind of overdrive, she grabbed her nerdy companion and tried to pull him over the table. Then, with a loud giggle, she pulled up her loose sweaterfront and actually yanked it over Chad, trapping himself inside it with her impressive body… and, alas, the messy sushi slice he'd dropped there. "You little piece of SHIT," she laughed. "Boom-Boom got ways of fuckin' with YOU. Of fuckin' with YOU. Of fuckin' with YOU."

The nastiness of her language was completely defanged by her mischievous, almost carefree nature. Oops… there she went into repeat mode again. Already more or less lying awkwardly across his robot mate, Chad stuck his head out the broad neck of the sweater, then fumbled up toward the back of Boom-Boom's neck to reset her again.

"EeeeeEEEK!" Meisa had returned with ice cream, and no amount of previous experience with Boom-Boom had prepared her for what she saw now. Boom-Boom and Chad were sharing a sweater, sprawled across each other on the low table like the world's clumsiest lovers. Chad was struggling, and Boom-Boom seemed stunned into complete rigidity. How? Why?

Until with a sharp pop, suddenly she was alert again. "Well, FUCK me!" she stared at Meisa. "Y'all SAW, didn't you."

"Bee-Bee, she—"

"Can't fool me, fool. She saw. So she's gotta disappear. An' I know where to. No more music store for us today. C'mere, sweetie."

Boom-Boom reached up and pulled Meisa by her shirt, causing her to fall on top of them with a startled squeak. Then Boom-Boom urgently put a finger over the stunned waitress' mouth. "Y'all be quiet, you dig? You know too much, but Boom-Boom can't DO nothin' to you. You just too hot for that, girlfriend. So you gotta come with." She planted a consoling kiss on Meisa's nose.

Meisa was clearly about to scream again. So Boom-Boom firmly, deliberately kissed her again. And again. And then again. Meisa blushed red as a rose, but to Chad's amazement, her panic calmed and she seemed to be changing. She was gently, so shyly flattered by Boom-Boom's display of affection.

What Meisa exhibited back may not have been affection; it certainly wasn't love. But whatever minor improvement it may have been from shock and awe, Boom-Boom picked up on it all. Moments later the gangster was up—still splattered with food—and hustling the dumbstruck Japanese girl out of the Tatami room, then out of the restaurant itself. Stunned Chad could only stumble along in their wake.

"GIRLFRIEND LEAVIN' EARLY TODAY… IT'S BEEN NICE MEETIN' Y'ALL," Boom-Boom barked at the baffled staff as she almost carried Meisa along. Baffled Meisa gestured at the food still clinging to Boom-Boom's outfit. "Oh, THAT," huffed Boom-Boom. "Slut boy did that. Fuck that." With a sly grin, she pushed an elbow against Chad as they continued along, rubbing it against him just long enough to be momentarily sensuous. "Slut boy gonna get punished. He's THROUGH bein' my bitch. He gets to be somebody else's bitch."

Chad had just noticed that the rain had stopped, and was busily scanning the streets for signs of the man whose umbrella Boom-Boom had stolen. He was just feeling relieved at his absence when the import of Boom-Boom's words struck him. What could she mean, "somebody else's bitch"? He was at once scared and turned-on at the thought of the unknown punishment.

Back at Shadow Club everything suddenly became clear as Boom-Boom, holding Chad with his arms pinned behind his back, presented him smugly to Melanie, a blonde white girl robot who was a fellow hostess at the club. A former flight attendant reprogrammed as a gangster, the Valley Girlish Melanie had the uncanny knack of seemingly legitimately drunk after several alcoholic drinks. She would completely forget the fact she was a robot. It was only her system's automated response, but there were times it was strikingly real. Now was one of those times.

"He's YOURS for tonight, Mel," Boom-Boom grinned. "Me an' sushi-girl got big stuff to do in my room. Private. She's a fine, high-class bitch, she's joinin' us for good an' I don't care if she ain't a bot. But…"

With a sway of her hips, Boom-Boom leaned close to Chad and whispered in his ear, as affectionate as a noisy female gangster could get. "But you're ALSO a fine bitch sometimes, Chad." She gave his ear a gentle kiss and gave his butt a pinch. Then suddenly she was all sexy bravado again. "Now, I been trainin' Mel. DON'T let me hear y'all ain't doin' what she wants."

It would have been hard for anyone NOT to hear Chad as Melanie—swaying tipsily in place—stared lustily at him, burped loudly, then invasively ran her hands over him, groping hard at his butt. "Like OMG," she laughed. "This is some FUN shit. You're, like, totally mine. Woot!"

Chad, at once aroused, in pain, and fascinated in spite of himself, resigned himself to being the slave of his robot's robot slave. The gangster life he'd once fantasized about was simply stranger by the day.

The end...?