Fart, among other things

"Hmm, I wonder..." Joe murmured to himself, his professional demeanor slipping further as curiosity overtook him. The clinical inspection had gradually transformed into something else entirely. He was no longer documenting the golem's condition—he was exploring her capabilities, pushing boundaries.

"Dr. Hassan, I need to test your digestive simulation functions," he said, maintaining a veneer of professionalism despite his increasingly unprofessional intentions. "I want you to produce flatulence."

The golem remained expressionless, her voice flat and monotone as she responded, "Initiating digestive simulation protocol. Flatulence will commence momentarily."

Joe stepped back slightly, not entirely sure what to expect. He'd heard about these functions but had never actually witnessed them in action. For a moment, nothing happened, and he wondered if perhaps this particular feature had been disabled in her programming.

Then it happened. A distinct, unmistakable sound emanated from between the golem's spread buttocks—a wet, bubbling release of gas that lasted approximately three seconds. Joe's eyes widened in astonishment.

"Holy shit," he whispered, genuinely impressed. But his surprise didn't end there. Within seconds, an odor reached his nostrils—sulfurous, organic, and undeniably authentic. It smelled exactly like human flatulence, complete with the subtle notes of digested proteins and complex carbohydrates.

Joe waved his hand in front of his face, simultaneously disgusted and fascinated. "That's... remarkably realistic," he said, coughing slightly. "The olfactory simulation is incredibly detailed."

The golem remained bent over, hands still spreading her buttocks, awaiting further instructions. Her face, turned slightly to look back at him, showed no embarrassment, no awareness of the social taboo she had just broken. In default mode, she was simply executing commands with perfect obedience.

"You can stand up straight now," Joe said, and she complied immediately, turning to face him once more.

His curiosity now fully piqued, Joe decided to investigate further. These golems were designed to replicate human functions in every way—not just the pleasant ones. He reached forward and inserted his index finger into her vagina without preamble.

The golem didn't react beyond a slight widening of her stance to accommodate his intrusion. Joe was immediately struck by the warmth and moisture he encountered—another perfect simulation of human anatomy. He withdrew his finger and, driven by a perverse scientific curiosity, brought it to his nose.

The scent was unmistakable—a faint but distinct odor of urine, mixed with the natural musk of female genitalia.

Joe couldn't contain it anymore and he laid on the examination bed, then he said: "Put your big sagging ass on my face." The doctor's body responded instantly, her programming interpreting the crude command with mechanical precision.

"Complying with directive," Dr. Hassan stated flatly, her default mode stripping away all the personality and cultural affectations of her standard operating parameters.

She turned around, her back to Joe's face, and positioned herself above him. She lowered herself slowly, her buttocks descending onto his face like a soft, warm cloud. The weight of her flesh settled against his cheeks and nose, the realistic texture of her skin pressing against his.

Joe buried his face between her asscheeks, feeling the soft, yielding flesh envelop him. The scent was intoxicating—a complex mixture of musk and simulated sweat that perfectly mimicked human pheromones. Despite knowing she was made of specialized dirt and transcendental materials, his body responded as if she were flesh and blood. He was hard as a rock, his erection straining against his uniform pants.

He inhaled deeply, savoring the taboo intimacy of the moment. The golem remained perfectly still, awaiting further instructions, her thighs straddling his head with mechanical precision. Her weight was carefully calibrated—enough pressure to create the sensation of a real woman sitting on his face, but not so much that it would cause discomfort or impede his breathing.

Joe's hands wandered over her ass, feeling the soft, yielding flesh beneath his fingers. He could feel the slight indentations of cellulite, it felt like real fat, like a human's. The engineers at DirtWorks had outdone themselves with this model—every imperfection meticulously crafted to enhance the illusion of humanity. His thumbs traced small stretch marks near her hips, barely visible but palpable to the touch.

He spread her cheeks wider, examining the intricate detail of her most intimate areas. The puckered flesh of her anus contracted slightly as his thumb brushed against it—an automatic response programmed into her bodily functions. Joe marveled at the sophistication. Even knowing what she was made of, his brain couldn't help but process her as completely human.

Suddenly Joe was interrupted by knocks on the door. Three sharp raps echoed through the examination room, causing his heart to leap into his throat. The doctor's assistant, who he knew wasn't a golem, was speaking through the door.