The Touch of Love

***Editor's warning: This story is potentially disturbing. For mature readers only.***

"But I love you!" Joel said, resisting the urge to shake the robot, a Loveland Companion, model 6739. This one had the rather unusual appellation--Honey. Joel gently ran a hand over Honey's body. The stitches had only just begun to heal. And he would know. He was her doctor and mechanic. He'd taken care of her for the last three years of her marriage to Stan Brumfeld. But Joel wanted to be so much more.

"I love you," he repeated more softly. There was no need to whisper. The repair bay was empty, all the other staff long gone for the day, but Joel didn't want to break the intimacy.

"I understand, I love you too." Her response was placid, mechanical.

It made Joel want to shake her, slap her, do something to get a response from her, a real response. He was beginning to understand why Stan had felt so inclined to abuse Honey. After all, that is what she had been created for. It was designed and built into her software--her love, her need for this kind of treatment. It was in her programming.

But Joel loved her. She made his heart beat faster and his palms sweat. She made him feel things he'd never felt before. He stared into the robot's eyes and he could see it in there. She loved him too.

"Show me." Joel demanded.

Honey cocked her head slightly, her brown eyes staring at him, into him, "What would you like me to do?"

"Show me how you love me."

Honey lifted up one of her pale hands and rubbed it gently down the side of Joel's face. He turned his head, bringing his lips into contact with her fingers, kissing them gently.

It was only at the last second he saw the work lamp, clutched in her other hand, as it came crashing down on him. And he only vaguely felt the following rain of blows, and screams of obscenities and abuse that followed.

He knew later she would feel contrite and snuggle up against his beaten and bruised body and whisper endearments and speak of love.