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Queer Sci Fi Flash Fiction Contest “Flight” – Second Place Winner

We’ve wrapped up the judging of the Third Annual QSF Flash Fiction Contest, so we’ll be sharing the top stories – first the top three, then the individual Judge’s Choice stories – something new we are doing this year. We had some fantastic submissions this year – congrats to everyone! All stories were limited to 300 words max, with the theme “flight”.

These stories will all appear in the forthcoming “Flight” anthology – more details soon.

Our second place winner is Clare London with a little horror – congrats, Clare! Here’s the story – enjoy.


Make Me Fly
by Clare London

“Oh yeah! Make it good!”

I perched on the window sill of my high rise apartment, feet planted on my thick carpet, arms braced against the frame, and buttocks straining back against the blind until the slats cut into my naked arse. Between my legs, the strong fingers ran up and down my shaft with the perfect balance of sexual hunger and obedience. I was close to shooting for the third time tonight.

So close.

“That’s it.” I groaned. “Make me scream!”

Cops aren’t meant to own sexbots: any bots at all. The job’s impartial and equally fair to human or artificial being. Bots imply servants. Slaves.

But from the first minute, I knew this one would give me what I deserved.
When Varden hadn’t wanted to give it up, I pulled rank. Confiscated his bot’s cute mouth and muscular butt for my own. Just like I took Varden’s own sweet newbie arse, hard and brutal, at that initiation party. Like I took his promotion with a few carefully placed words in the Super’s ear.

“Make me come!” The suspense was killing me.

The bot squeezed under the head of my cock. Just the right pressure for me, just the right strength. Good thing I’d bullied Varden into working his engineering magic on it, tailoring it to my likes. He’d protested, but I called the shots. Always did.

We’d fucked everywhere in the apartment since then. Bed, wall, floor, counter, bath. Now panting on the windowsill, the night air cool on my buttocks, the bot gripping me as he jerked me off. So strong.

So, so close.

“Make me fly!” I crowed.

The bot paused and blinked, his hand on my chest, his mouth twisted in a parody of the grimace I last saw on Varden’s face.

And he pushed.

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