The Deal - 8K

Sitting in her favorite chair, the tele-viewer in front of her, Jane chit-chats with her mother about the day's events. Yes, they'd gotten a new robot...Jane simply told her that it was a 'service robot' and declined to tell her mother what (and who) it was actually servicing.  Jane's father had gotten a new set of golf clubs...her mother went on to say that he spends practically all of their retirement money on that stupid game. No, George hadn't gotten a promotion yet...in typical mother-in-law fashion, the woman demonizing the man of the house as a shiftless layabout and all-around bad husband.

This would go on for hours if Jane would let it, the woman often coming up with some excuse to end the call.

This time, however, the tele-viewer does it for her...an on-screen prompt stating that she has an incoming message from the Little Dipper School. More than likely, it's just an announcement for a PTA meeting or yet another precautionary 'zombie lockdown'...Jane would use any excuse to end the conversation when her mother starts on one of her annoying, brow-beating, husband-bashing tangents.

Jane: Listen, Mother, I've gotta go.  I've got a call from Elroy's school on the other line.

Mrs. Spacely: Ohh...  Ok, sweetie. Call me tomorrow. Love you.

Jane: Love you too, Mom.

Jane lets out a sigh of relief when her mother's image disappears, replaced by a static menu, stating that she has one new message.

Jane: Display - New - Message

Instead of the usual junk she gets from Elroy's school, this time it's something a little more important...his report card. Jane blinks for a second and then rolls her eyes, inwardly smiling to herself as she remembers the deal she'd made with the young man some months ago. As an incentive, given his lackluster grades the previous semester, if he came home with straight A's...   Whenever, wherever, no position or orifice off limits...she'd let him have his way with her for an entire day.

Knowing full well that her little man would be home at any moment, all shit-eating grins and full of vim and vigor, Jane opts to take a few preemptive measures. Without fail, the young man has the annoying habit of stretching out her underthings (or just outright ripping them) when he pulls them off of her...one of many weird kinks he's picked up over the years.

Jane hikes up her purple geometric dress and slips a hundred Riznacks worth of lace-fringed silk down her stocking-clad thighs. Doing one of those contortionist feats that only women are capable of, she then removes the matching bra...without taking off her blouse.

Jane: Rosie? Can you put these on the delicate cycle for me?

Jane allows herself a little smirk, peering down at her bare backside, her tan lines from a jaunt down to Lunar Beach some weekends ago still standing out. A nice surprise for the eager young man. Rosie wheels into the living room...she'd roll her eyes, if she had any to roll...catching a glimpse of Jane's bare thigh gap as the woman smooths her dress back into position.

Rosie: Straight A's this time, huh?

Without looking at her, the housewife flings the undergarments at the robot maid, the expensive pair of panties catching on Rosie's antenna and flopping across her face...the bra bouncing off her metallic chest. Rosie lets out an electronic groan of displeasure, bends to retrieve the unmentionable, and then wheels toward the laundry room. She's still got a pile of soiled underthings to do from before the R.U.R. 5000 went on the fritz.

Jane: And put more fabric softener in it this time.

Download it here.

Original Art by Rage Grenade

Colors and Edits by Phillipthe2