Andrew and the Sexbot Factory/Prototype/Part 6

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Part 6

The maid landed in a rustle of lace and ribbons, emitting a tiny squeak when she hit. With the door closed, the only light in tiny the chamber was the red light on her exposed port, its flashing perhaps suggesting that something was wrong. Warmth radiated from her, and she was warmest where she now sat on his thigh.

“Qu'est-ce que c'est?” she asked, he hands reaching behind her to find his chest. “Lumière,” she stated, and the room was bathed in a soft white light. She turned, her lustrous green eyes were wide in confusion, seemingly looking right through him. “Où est le connecteur?”

She still can’t see me! Her hand blindly groped along his abdomen, directly in front of whatever was jabbing him in the back. He tried to spot evidence of a panel somewhere on her that might allow him to distract or disable her, but apart from the connector port he could see no seams upon her flawless skin. Maybe behind her corset?

Her hand ventured lower, and she found his rigid member. She gripped it and gave it a slight tug, causing Reed to wince.

“Ordinateur?” she asked, still holding his manhood.

“Oui, madamouiselle?” a perky female voice replied from inside of her.

“Qu'est-ce que dans ma main?” She moved her hand more gently now, and Reed strained to remember his secondary school French. She’s asking what’s in her hand?

“Je suis l'analyse,” the computer responded. After a pause, the red light visible inside her port blinked faster. “Erreur,” the voice finally said.

“Je ne comprends pas,” the maid said, her hand still softly stroking the length of him. “Je blâme la transmission de la G.F.P Six!” Her felt her crotch grow warmer, tensing when her grip tightened. “Ordinateur?!”

“Oui, madamouiselle?”

“S'il vous plaît communiquer avec Mad-,” Reed understood she was trying to contact someone – needing to interrupt her, but not wanting to startle her too badly (not with his cock still in her grip) he cupped her round backside and gently squeezed. Her sentence ended in a soft moan.

“Je suis désolé madamouiselle, commande non comprise,” her computer said apologetically.

“Comminuquer avec… Ohhh… ahhh…,” she abandoned her attempts to issue commands as he massaged her soft flesh, and she forced his cock against her ass. Suddenly, she rose to her feet and slid off her petite thong – her lips were flushed with pink, trembling slightly as fluid and steam seeped from within. She felt for his cock once more, found it, and then fell upon it with an ear-splitting cry.

“Erreur!” the computer’s voice exclaimed worriedly. “Objet inconnu détecté! Je vous arrêter, madamouiselle.” Reed understood her internal computer was trying to shut her down. Hopefully not just yet, and he tugged at the lace of her corset.

“Non! Ahhhh… Vous ne comprenez pas!” the maid cried in protest, planting a palm against each wall of the tiny chamber amidst the whining of servos, her frantic pumping up and down jostling off the loosened corset.

“Je suis désolé, mais je dois vous arrêter!” her computer insisted.

When Reed’s hands found her bouncing breasts and massaged them steadily against the frenzy of her movement, she cried, “Ordinateur! Synchroniser!”

The maid froze at the height of her rise, only the tip of his cock still in her folds. She shuddered, panting, and he saw the blinking light in her exposed port was now a solid red.

After a moment, he thrust into her and both her and her computer cried out together.

“Err… ahhhh! Erreur!” exclaimed her computer. “Je ne suis pas programmé pour cette!”

The maid cried “Nous devons le faire!” and pressed harder against the walls of the small room with her hands and now her feet, suspending herself above Reed as he continued to thrust into her tightening pussy. Her legs, arms, her clenched and quivering perfect ass all trembled as the whining protest of her servos grew louder, smoke issuing from unseen seams in her shoulders and hips.

Without warning the splint sparked, and the maid and her computer cried out again, panels flying open across her body, machinery wrapped in red-hot coils bursting from her shoulders in a cloud of steam. A screen now visible on her back displayed the text Michelle the French Maid / Pleasure Droid v.305.7.7 above a blurring flood of nonsense. With a loud mechanical squeal, her left leg gave out and she tumbled forward off of Reed, panting as her internal computer spoke a slurred and stuttering string of random syllables punctuated with girlish squeaks of pleasure.

After a moment’s hesitation, Reed stepped over her and into the hallway – looking back, her saw her rise to her hands and knees, slowly crawling backward toward the bench.

“S'il vous plaît, nous devons cesser de!” he computer pleaded.

“J'ai besoin de le connecteur,” she replied, grasping for the plug protruding from the back wall. She jerked out a length of cable from the wall, and with the connector in her grip, she rammed it into her drenched pussy. Her eyes flew open wide as her body convulsed, electricity coursing over her, her computer shouting, “Ahhhh, mad-d-d-damouiselle!”

“SACRE…” she managed before her head exploded in a shower of sparks. White smoke billowed from her neck as she teetered and fell forward, her ass raised in the air, sparks emitting from the still-inserted cable.

Reed quickly ducked down the hallway, knowing he had just done exactly what Rebecca had warned him not to. As if on cue, a monitor flicked on at the wall beside him. The words Mr. Reed – this is Rebecca appeared in green text. Even without hearing her voice, he could sense her disapproval. Uncertain of how to communicate, he spoke directly to the screen in a harsh whisper, “I know, OK? I know! Look, maybe you could just give me a little more warning if someone is coming or something?”

I was not planning on involving myself to this degree, but I will alert you should anyone else approach. I apologize for Michelle’s unexpected appearance, it appears as though G.F.P 6’s transmission has unsettled a few of the routines in the facility.

“So… Michelle the Maid, she’s in the backup system? Does that mean everyone knows I’m here now?”

No, though her appearance in the system *is* raising a few questions. You ought to hurry.

Reed took the advice and jogged ahead. The corridors soon widened and he eventually came to a large open space, a single door marked “Testing Lab” on the far side. He felt exposed crossing the vast, empty chamber, and he hurried as he neared the door. Peering through a small window he saw a room lined with banks of terminals - and to one side on a metal table was G. She laid unmoving with her eyes closed, her body having reverted to the same grey plating as when he first saw her. Working at the terminal nearest her was a robot dressed as a nurse in a white latex minidress, a red cross emblazoned on the uniform’s left breast.

Reed swallowed and pressed the button on the door. It slid open and he stepped into the room.

(Continued in part 7)




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