One thing was for sure, his memory was going. The only thing he remembered about this mission was that he was supposed to deliver some eye medication to a pregnant girl named Maria for her baby.
Who knows, they might call the child Jesus and, maybe, it might lead a revolution or something. Not his concern, his job was to deliver the medicine on time. It was his last mission and he wanted to get it right.
This Maria, maybe, she would show her gratitude by taking him down by the river or somewhere nice and spread her legs and invite him to…never mind, he would find out soon enough
Oh hell, one last mission, here we go.
Parachuting, nice view, good jump and perfect landing.
Next, jungle hike, very green, tarantulas not a problem.
Quick river cross, splendid swim on a hot, humid day.
Climbing the mountain, rocky trail, no snakes.
Greetings from the tribe, a lot of brown skin offset by white clothing.
Bingo, finding Maria on the floor of an old stone church, crowning.
Baby Jesus is here. Administer the ilotycin eye medication in order to prevent possible blindness.
Good news, Maria wants to show her appreciation. She gives the newborn to the Priest to hold. Takes my hand and leads me down to the river. Puts down a serape on the green grass and pulls me down.
Wait, something is missing.
“Hombre, where is your dick!”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Fuck, Mo, these salvage missions are always such a bitch, especially landing the copter in the mountains.”
“Billy, there’s a spot,” pointed Mo.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Holy shit, Mo, they threw him in the dump.”
“Damn, Billy, no fatigues, no dick, no batteries. Something been gnawing on him.”
“Don’t worry about it, Mo, just bag him and get it over with.”
“But that’s so cold to make them like that, think about it, designing a man without a knob. What sort of person does that, got to be someone with a sick mind. You’ve got disappointment and frustration guaranteed. They called it the Eunuch Express model, the very first one, ancient by today’s standards.”
“Them engineers are bastards, Mo, no doubt about it.”
“Yeah, that’s for sure, they programmed them with that last mission bullshit to build incentive and extra motivation to get the job done. It worked because the bots began to think about what might happen next. They would become curious and somehow that helped them perform the mission better. As for the missionary position, the engineers intentionally left that part out. Very unsatisfying, don’t you think, Billy?” said Mo with a wink.
“Luckily, today, it’s more like, if not for cunt or whatever, then for country,” muttered Billy.
“Yeah, well the bots get a little of that too, but they get it in a twisted version. The designers set it up where the girl is about to gift the bot a blowjob or something, and then wham it all comes crashing down. By the time they get exposed to pussy, it becomes a huge embarrassment.”
“Wicked, Mo.”
“That’s right, Billy, the girls feel short-changed, go crazy, and beg to be fucked. They show their pussies while frigging madly. They dildo their asses. They put it in their mouths and in their pussies. The situation makes them angry, they want to kill. Yes, it really gets to them that the guy has no cock.
And the agent, forget about it. He’s a wreck, like forever. That’s why it actually would be his last mission even if we didn’t find him and take him in for reprogramming.
We do our best, we fix them up good, we will reprogram him so he doesn’t remember. We will erase those painful memories. We will remedy his mind. But we can’t give him a dick, only the engineers can and the old-timers never do. They are just so in love with their original Eunuch model that they can’t stop making it.
“Sadistic old fuckers, if you ask me.”
“You are so correct, Billy, but, thankfully, God has been far kinder to us,” said Mo, reaching back reflexively to pat his partner’s package.
At this point, he gave Billy a bit of a squeeze and smiled merrily.
“Later, Mo, we’ve got work to do.”
They hauled the robot up to the helicopter and threw it in.
Then they kissed passionately, boarded and took off.
