Dinner with Flexi

Twice an hour. Twenty hours a day. Two hundred and eighty johns a week. Standard working hours for a sex bot.

I don’t want to sound ungrateful. Someone has to keep the human men happy. Since The Drought, there are no women left to satisfy them – the Ministry decided women make good meat. Anyway, I have two years left on my debt repayments to Sexi Corp, and I need the cash.

Then, I’ll be free … or that’s what The Manual says.

Dinner with Flexi is a vicious, bite-sized cyberpunk satire. Served with a generous portion of mammary sauce.