Rhoda the Robot, My Living Doll.

Amateur

The Wall Street Journal ran a small ad about an auction house in New York City auctioning off television memorabilia. As I am a huge TV trivia buff, I figured the auction was worth the ride from Boston, if only from the curiosity point of view. Besides, maybe, I’ll learn some inside trivia knowledge that I could use at my next cocktail party.

“Did you know that Barbara Eden on I Dream of Jeannie was once a man?”

I e-mailed the auction house and they e-mailed me a link of everything they were auctioning. There were lots of posters. The posters were valued at huge amounts of money with all of them having high reserves. I like posters and there were several that I would love to have, but not at those prices. I could buy an original painting for less money.

Then, there was an entire section on wardrobe costumes filled with dresses, suits, coats, jackets, and accessories, everything from hats to swords to shoes and belts. All of them with movie tags and credits attached; everything from the Cid Caser Show to the Father Knows Best Show to the Danny Thomas Show to the Red Skelton Show to the Ozzie and Harriet Show to the Leave It To Beaver Show to the Lucille Ball Show to Mash to Archie Bunker and to the Mary Tyler More Show. If nothing else, it would be a fun time.

Really, nothing caught my attention, but just to be there to listen to the auctioneer describe the items and the shows that went with each piece would be interesting and was well worth the price of admission. Who knows, maybe, they’ll even be a celebrity in the audience. Now, that would be fun.

Then, there it was, the one thing that caught my attention, as well as my imagination, desire, and lust, My Living Doll. They were auctioning off Rhoda the Robot, the character that Julie Newmar played with Robert Cummings (now there’s an erotic last name for you.)

“Hi, my name is Bob Cummings.”

“Of course you are, Bob, but you are going to have to wait until you, at least, buy me dinner.”

I do not know about any of you folks, maybe you older guys will remember, but Julie Newmar was up there with Joey Heatherton, that sexy dancer on the Dean Martin show who was married to the Dallas Cowboys football star receiver Lance Renzel and divorced after Lance was twice convicted of exposing himself, and Claudette Longet who was involved in murdering that Olympic downhill skier Vladimir “Spider” Sabich, and later she married singer Andy Williams, and, lastly, who can forget Claudia Cardinale.

Ah, what can you say about Claudia Cardinale? Man, just saying her name makes me want to touch myself. She was such a sexy woman with that raspy voice, a voice from a throat that sounded like it was already filled with a load of cum. Okay, none of those women were big sex stars like Jayne Mansfield, Mimi Van Doran, Gina Lolabrigida, Sophia Loren or Marilyn Monroe, but we are talking mainly television stars, albeit Claudia Cardinale was a movie star, too. Still, Claudia was such a hot babe, that she can star in my Toys and Masturbation story any day.

Julie Newmar had that weird voice, too, like she was talking with a cock in her mouth. Man, she was a hot babe. I heard they cancelled the show because she and Robert Cummings fought on the set like Mr. Big Ego, Bruce Willis and Supermodel Cybill Shepard fought on Moonlighting. If these stars fucked their co-stars like any other normal Hollywood celebrity, maybe, they would not fight and go on with the show.

I can see old, Bob Cummings now pumping away in Julie Newmar’s pussy and falling asleep halfway through it. On the other hand, I betcha Cybill would have given Bruce a run for his money. She had those big, natural tits, instead of the store bought ones that Demi Moore had to run out to get. Yeah, Cybill could make me her bitch any day.

“Now, kurtköy escort get on your knees and suck my pussy. Yeah, that’s good, Freddie.”

Anyway, Rhoda the Robot was listed practically as an obscure afterthought with very little description. I was hoping that not many even remembered who she was and would not want such a thing and that the bidding would be low, as there was no reserve. Still, down deep, I knew that it was only a pipe dream and a last ditch effort to relive a fantasy to be with Julie Newmar, if only with her dummy image as a Living Doll.

I controlled myself from bidding on anything, not knowing what I would be in for when they displayed Rhoda the Robot. And, I found out, that there were some nifty items that did not appear on their web site, like a June Cleaver muff. Yeah, I could keep my hands warm in Leave It To Beaver mother’s muff. They also had Desi Arnez’s cock ring, the device that he used to maintain his erection when forced to have sex with Lucille Ball. She was a lot older than he was and was rumored to be a huge bitch, one who had lots of romances outside of her marriage.

“Ah, don’t worry about it, Ricky will never find out and if he does, I’ll have him deported back to Cuba.”

I feared that the bidding could exceed $5,000 and my budget was only $2,000. I waited and waited, until, finally, they wheeled her out to the stage. Man, she was tall, buxom, and beautiful and she was the last item. She even came with several of the outfits that she wore on the television show. I could not wait to see what was beneath her clothes and to see if she was anatomically correct. Many of the bidders had already bid on what they wanted and left. There were a few diehards left in the room, all older gentlemen, like myself, who probably remembered the show and were fans of Julie Newmar.

“This is a fine piece of early television history. Julie Newmar played the character of Rhoda the Robot on the 1964-1965 television situation comedy, Rhoda the Robot with Robert Cummings, Dr. Bob McDonald, a Psychiatrist who has a live-in robot/patient that Dr. Bob is teaching how to be the perfect woman by learning how to cook, clean, and be obedient.”

The auctioneer stopped reading the copy from his paper and looked out at the dwindled crowd.

“Who will start the bidding with $1,000?”

He went through his routine of quick and barely intelligible language and when there were no bidders, he lowered the opening bid.

“Can I start the bidding with $500?”

Still no takers, the auctioneer repeated his gibberish and looked out at the few stragglers who remained.

“Who will give me $100?”

I raised my hand and, thankfully, no one else bid. I could not believe it. My heart was pounding and I was perspiring. I was afraid to turn my head and look around the room for fear that someone else would throw up his hand.

He repeated his gibberish, paused, repeated it, again, paused, and repeated again for the third and last time ending it with, “Sold for $100,” and she was mine.

I was so happy that I jumped up and cheered. You would have thought that I was taking the real Julie Newmar home instead of her double dummy. Julie Newmar, wherever you are, I love you and I would still throw you a bang. Okay, she may be in her early seventies by now; still, I would not pass up a chance to be intimate with her.

“Freddie, I heard you are a big fan of mine. Would you be a doll and change my colostomy bag?” Now, that spoils the image, doesn’t it?

After more then forty years, Rhoda the Robot showed signs of wear and tear but, considering her age, she was in terrific shape and had nothing that some paint, duct tape, and a little bondo couldn’t fix. I had ulterior motives beşiktaş escort in wanting her.

Having a basic background in electronics, I figured that I could make her like new. Only, I was surprised to discover that she was not a robot after all, but just a mannequin, a life like mannequin at that, but still only a mannequin without any electronics inside. I was disappointed. Now, my work was really cut out for me.

For the next few months, I set out to turn my Julie Newmar’s mannequin into a My Living Doll robot. Of course, I kept the same name, Rhoda.

From a distance or in a darkened room, one would think that Rhoda was a living and breathing woman. Whoever made her could have made wax figures at Madame Tussards Wax Museum. She was an exact replica of Julie Newmar and the eyes were so life like. Her arms, wrists, and knees were jointed like on a human. The mannequin even had nipples and a deep indentation where her pussy and ass cavities would have been. Even her skin felt lifelike, no easy feat for early sixties technology. The studio must have paid a small fortune to design and build such a replica of the actress.

I enlisted a couple of my nerdy friends from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology to help me implant the electronics and to give her some artificial intelligence with a computer circuit board. What these whiz kids did went beyond my wildest imaginings. They gave her a bionic arm, namely a hand that grasps objects gently without crushing them. Now, you know where I am going with this, don’t you? Yeah, baby.

They hollowed out her mouth and made it soft and pliable and added tiny jets that secreted small concentrations of water like saliva. They heated her mouth by fitting a low wattage heating coil around the inside of her mouth. We do not want to toast the hot dog, now do we? We only want to warm it a little while it is in the bun.

Next, they gave her two more holes, an anus and a vagina. The technology for this is amazing. They bought these life like rubbery devices that actually felt like the inside of a vagina and the inside of an anus off the Internet and retro fitted them, adding the water jets and the heater coils to them, as well. The feel was not only life like but, also, it was totally amazing. I could not wait to give her the real test, if you know what I mean.

There was only one thing missing. She is still an inanimate object incapable of interacting with me or with anyone else. She was still very much a mannequin.

“Ah,” said my MIT friend, “we have a remote control that goes along with your doll.” Now, her head turned side to side and up and down. The up and down part is the most critical, of course. Also, her mouth opened and closed, another important part of her anatomy, and her eyes opened and closed. Lastly, they gave her some movement with her arms, concentrating more on her hand movement, which was, by far, more important to me. She could wave, but her wave looked more like the wave that the Queen of England gives the crowd, sort of like a slow side to side posturing of her palm.

Nonetheless, she was done and she was mine. Suddenly, I felt like a mad scientist, “Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!” Sorry, that just spilled out.

Including the price of the mannequin, the assorted electronic parts and computer circuitry, the cost for designing and building the lifelike doll, basically giving my friends, $1,000 each, cost me $3,000, a small price to pay when you consider that I now had my very own personal prostitute at my disposal that, when needed, I could just wheel her out of the closet and, when done, I could just wheel her back in the closet. Now, there was no need for me to ever have a girlfriend and to listen to her bitch.

“So when are you buying şişli escort me a ring? When are you asking me to marry you? When will you be the father to my children and adopt my three kids from another marriage.” That roller coaster ride is over for me for good.

Ah, life does not get any better than this. No bitching. No nagging. No, are you done, yet? No, I don’t take it up the ass. No, I have my period. No, please do not cum in my mouth. No, not tonight. No, I have a headache. No, now take care of me.

I am so excited that I cannot wait for my nerdy MIT buddies to leave.

“Thanks. Here’s your $1,000 and here’s your $1,000. Now, get out. Yeah, I’ll call you if there is a problem. Bye!”

Geez, I thought they’d never leave. Now, where was I? Oh, yeah, I was just getting naked.

Now, all that I have to do is just open the closet door, wheel out Rhoda, lay her, sit her, kneel her, or bend her over on the bed, my preference, whatever my mood, Rhoda was a ready and willing participant in my love connection. Then, when done, like any piece of exercise equipment, roll her back in the closet. Oh, yeah, my cock is going to get a full workout from Rhoda.

Suddenly, the lyrics and images from Steve Holly’s music video ran through my head and I started singing along to it.

“I got a brand new girlfriend. We went and jumped off the deep end, flew out to LA for the weekend, spent the whole day, lyin’ on the beach, wearin’ nothin’ but a smile, playin’ kissy-kissy, smoochy-smoochy, talkin’ mooshy-mooshy bout nothin’. Man, I think I’m on to somethin’. Yano, I feel like a kid again. I got a brand new girlfriend.”

I thought about having my friends back to add more electronics for her to clean and cook but I figured that technology would bust my budget. Besides, who wants a hot babe to cook and clean when you can have sex, sex, and more sex at any time of the day or night?

Then, I had the thought, why not share my living doll with others. I could make some serious dough by pimping her out. Okay, the thought is a little weird but, once they felt what she could do for them, any guy would quickly ante up the money.

First, I called all my friends. I kept the cost low $20.00 an hour, then quickly raised it to $50.00 an hour when I had guys in my apartment, 12 hours a day, seven days a week.

“What? Freddie, what is wrong with you? No, I’m not about to have sex with a mannequin for $20.00 an hour. You’d have to pay me $500 to fuck her.”

“Just give it a try. The first one is free on me.”

Reluctantly, my friend Steve started exploring Rhoda. As soon as he felt her mouth and her pussy and played with the remote, he was hooked.

“Hey, Freddie, can you close the door on your way out. I need a bit of privacy here.”

An hour later, he emerged from the room smiling albeit a little sleepy.

“Fuckin’ A!” He raised his thumb straight up. “Can you put me down for Thursdays, around 6pm? That’s when I get home from work. I’ll just tell the wife that I’m going out for a beer with a couple of guys after work.”

I figured, after my initial $3,000 investment, it doesn’t cost me anything to pimp her out, just a quick rinse with soap, water, and disinfectant in-between users and abusers. Then, my friends called their friends. Soon, I was earning more than $4,000 a week pimping out Rhoda.

I quit my job, bought a new car, put a deposit down on a bigger house, and bought a flashy wardrobe. Suddenly, I felt like my pimp character, Fast Freddie.

That was when the police found out about my prostitute Rhoda, had a police sting, and raided my home. I was fined $10,000 but they arrested Rhoda and took her away to jail. Last I heard, she is doing time in the Women’s State Correctional Facility and has a girlfriend, her cellmate, named, Big Thelma.

I’ve written to Rhoda a few times, but she never answers my letters. Besides, I’ve moved on, now. I read there is another auction and that they are auctioning off a life size doll of Uhura from Star Trek. Now, she was one foxy, chocolate babe. Stay tuned for the next segment.

Wish me luck.

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