Chick Magnet

Reynaldo did it for sport. He could get real women, but they were boring him lately. Challenge called.
He engineered the ingenious device so no sexbot could resist, payment be damned. Sexbots existed because they were disease-proof, love-proof, pregnancy-proof - and profitable.
But they weren’t Reynaldo-proof.
“Hey, honey!” he called to his target. She responded, flashing him that programmed, sly, sexy smile. He selected from her menu, then they went to someplace quiet.
Before paying, he put his arm around her, device in hand. He activated it.
She slapped him.
“Hard to get?”
He smiled.
Game on.