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Saya

2021-09-06T20:51:02Z

Saya: /* Commissions */ Adding a revised version of my commission info

==Commissions==

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|There we go!

Feel free to '''send me a private message on [https://www.fembotcentral.net/viewtopic.php?f=20&t=15088 Fembot Central]''', '''an e-mail at the address listed above''' (though I don't check my emails as often as I should > w o) or '''direct message me on Discord (Saya #8416)''' if you want to get in touch with me!</div>
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==Stories==
#[[A Most Unusual Party]]
#[[Futago no Shinami]]
#[[Sammy's Party]]
#[[Mending Contessa: A Castle Mysteries Story]]
#[[Crazy in the Heat]]
#[[After Hours]]
#[[The Time With My Stepsister]]

==Manipulations==
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[[Category:Saya]]
[[Category:Photo manipulation]]
[[Category:Commissions]]
[[Category:FembotWiki user galleries]]

File:Saya Wide.png

2021-09-06T20:48:29Z

Saya: Uploaded own work with UploadWizard

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{{Information
|description={{en|1=commission info sheet}}
|date=2021-09-06
|source={{own}}
|author=[[User:Saya|Saya]]
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The Time With My Stepsister/Chapter 7

2020-07-12T20:41:59Z

Saya:

Chapter 7

“...Unless I'd be reliev'd by prayer, which persists so that it assaults mercy itself, and frees all faults...”

The man in the colorful robes, a smile on his face, turned to the audience, alone on the stage. He extended his hands at his sides and into the air.

“As you from your crimes would pardon'd be, let your indulgence...set me free.”

The stage lights dimmed until dark, and the audience began to applaud wildly. When the lights were back on, Prospero was joined by the rest of the cast. Among them, with her hair once more long and still a striking shade of blue, Miyu as Miranda strode out with them wearing a much brighter version of the dress she started off with, and somewhat low cut. Not long ago, she may have protested, but she felt considerably more comfortable showing herself off. The men took bows, the ladies—save the woman playing Ariel—curtsied, Miyu included.

Amongst the clapping crowd and the flashing cameras, Miyu's eyes attempted to spot Arata among them, but she could not make anything out between the camera flashes and the stage lights. Miyu curtsied again, then as the crowd's applause began to dim, the players all exited the stage. Talking amongst themselves, the players all filed off the stage, a rush of excitement felt between all of them, as they spoke of the success of the play. With a smile on her lips, Miyu talked with them, before heading to a room reserved for her. She was rather surprised that the director managed to get them onto an actual stage, complete with rooms for each of the players. Miyu felt it was rather above her level to be given her own room, but hardly complained.

When she slipped inside and opened the door, she was just unzipping her dress as the door shut behind her when she heard footsteps. She turned her head and eyes upward, and smiled softly as she saw who it was. “Chise, you missed the play!”

Chise smirked as she walked over to Miyu, and placed her hands on her waist and hips. Reconstructed, she had opted to take on more human-like eyes in her latest rebuilding. Only, the iris and pupils were a more solid red. Chise leaned in and pressed her lips to Miyu's, eyes closing as their kiss immediately deepened. They held it for a while, Chise's hand pushing down the front of that low-cut dress to grope the other android's chest. Meanwhile, Chise herself was wearing one of her simpler outfits. A simple jeans and undershirt arrangement, her jacket laying on a chair nearby. The androids continued to kiss for a moment longer, Miyu breaking it off just as Chise reached in and pulled from the dress one of Miyu's breasts, leaving it sitting somewhat awkwardly bare on the high bustier-style top. Miyu, nevertheless, giggled.

“I wanted to give you something special after the show. You can consider it a reward for a job well-done.” Chise smirked, and reached up, pulling her shirt up and over her head. As usual, there was nothing underneath holding back her large breasts, the tan nipples stiff on her pale chest. Throwing it aside, heedless of who may have come in, Chise draped her arms around Miyu's shoulders, looking into her eyes as the kiss began anew. Miyu, much to Chise's delight, leaned into the kiss. She broke it off a moment to add “plus, you have any idea how hard it is to sneak backstage around here?”

Miyu smirked, about to say something, when both their heads suddenly turned to look at the door. Still in mid-embrace, they were about to say something regarding their privacy, when they saw who it was. Coming in wearing his own leather jacket over a plain white shirt, a pair of khakis on his legs, Arata slipped his shoes off as he entered, chuckling as he spied Chise in similar dress. “You two got started without me?”

As Arata slipped his jacket off, followed by his shirt, he felt rather proud to display the new, faint but visible seam lines, and his eyes now had a soft golden glow to them. Chise chuckled as she pressed a bit more into Miyu. “The new body looks good, Arata. Glad to see you got yourself registered, though I see it didn't change your sense of adventure much.”

Arata chuckled as he walked around behind Miyu. “Give me a few months, I'm sure I'll have a nice, wild purple hairdo and transparent synthskin, or something.” Unlike the genuine period article, this dress was held together with a zipper down the back, one which Arata gently and slowly pulled down Miyu's back. Miyu let out a little groan as she felt Chise start to kiss the nape of her neck, as Arata began to do the same from the opposite side, bringing his body close to Miyu's back as it was slowly revealed. Chise, meanwhile, pulled down the front of Miyu's dress and brought it slowly down her arms. Miyu and Chise continued to kiss as the dress was pulled down Miyu's arms, soon the top of the dress off completely, leaving Miyu just as topless as the other two androids. Miyu broke off the kiss for a moment with Chise, reaching back and draping her arm around Arata's neck, as his hands took up her breasts and groped them firmly, powerfully, pushing his hands into her chest as Miyu slowly popped open a plastic ring under the dress that held it around Miyu's waist. The garment needed little encouragement to fall completely from her body, coming down around her legs to reveal the plain, but tight white cloth panties that hugged Miyu's hips.

A week after the incident with Katsumi, even then she might have balked at the idea of having a threesome back stage with Chise and Arata. But a week after that, here she was, growing excited at th sensation of the warm android bodies pushing against her. She thought of how far she had come since she was a shy girl who barely acknowledged her robotic nature. Now, she found herself in charge of two androids, acting as their master control, their administrator. She supposed that was true, too of Katsumi. Naturally, however, Miyu had little to do with that particular machine, giving her a rather brusque send-off and a warning that if she should ever return to them, she'd make sure that the next reprogramming would be far more than just a command code.

But such thoughts were distant as she leaned into Arata's chest, his hands now groping her chest more roughly. Arata, in spite of the registration process which had stripped him down to his wiring, put him back together in a more standardized body, complete with all the seams and panel indicators had never felt more liberated. It felt good to show off his true nature, now that he was aware of it. And what's more, it felt good to know he was the same as his stepsister. Still, it surprised the hell out of his stepmother, that was for sure. Of course, Arata had left out a few details about how they came to the discovery.

As Arata brought his hand up to Miyu's chin, his hand groping and squeezing her left breast, Chise reached out and hooked her hands into the strap of Miyu's panties. Pulling them down her shapely thighs, she watched Miyu's hips buck slightly at the baring of her bald folds, Chise close enough to make out the seam denoting where her vaginal module connected to her hips. Miyu let out a little gasp as Chise leaned up and pressed her lips against the soft synthetic skin between her legs, soon pressing her lips against them completely and sucking on the warm folds. Chise had to admit. As much as she valued her freedom, there wasn't anyone she would be more willing to call “mistress” than Miyu. In a way, she was thankful to Katsumi for tearing her apart and taking her over in her arrogance.

Miyu groaned softly, but soon felt the need to interrupt. “Arata, Chise, halt.” She couldn't help but buck her hips a little against Chise's frozen face, as Arata went as still as a statue. “Get in front of me and strip down,” she said as she slipped out of the slippers she had worn onstage. Arata, wordlessly, let go, a smirk on his face as he walked in front of Miyu and presented himself. Chise, nodding slightly, brushing her lips against Miyu's womanhood, stood up and did the same, standing next to Arata in the small room.

“Yes, Mistress,” they both said in response, as they simultaneously reached down and began unbuckling their belts, unbuttoning and then unzipping their jeans, and then pulled down their undergarments. With Chise slipping out of her boots, both androids were now just as nude as Miyu. Miyu smiled. “The both of you, come here...”

Wordlessly, Arata walked over to Miyu and placed his hands on her hips. He pulled her in closely, Miyu feeling the heat from his erect member as it pressed against her thigh, and moaned softly, openly as he leaned his head in to brush his lips against Miyu's ear. Miyu held him closely, as Chise went around behind Miyu and began to gently stroke her bare back, giving her rear a grope, before pressing her own chesty body against Miyu's smooth back. Then, pulling back, Chise brought her fingers down and pushed them into the seam where Miyu's waist met her hips. Miyu was rather surprised as she let out a sudden “Seam Locks Disengaged”, and found herself being pulled away from her own standing hips. Arata took hold as Miyu remained tethered by the wires and cables extending from her central support structure, her hip-thigh servo motors and several other miscellaneous systems. Chise took firm hold of Miyu's chest, as she brought the slightly squirming android's upper half down on a nearby chair, the very soft whirrs and buzzes of the collection of servo motors throughout her body, now exposed, filled the room.

As Chise leaned in and kissed her deeply, Miyu could still feel her legs and hips being moved about. Arata wasted no time in taking Miyu by the thighs and pushed her hips up against the wall of the room, near the wardrobe, as Chise brought Miyu to rest near where the actors and actresses who claimed the room for their own put on their makeup. He guided his member in with a huff, and stared down at the bare machinery as Miyu let out a quiet, gentle moan into Chise's lips, who had bent down to kiss her. They were all wordlessly exchanging the information, feeling their shared sensations of deep pleasure through a private wireless connection, the same as Katsumi's. Yet, it felt so much more intimate, far less intrusive. And even now, commanding the two of them, Miyu had wanted to feel like she was being used. Another aspect of their new life taken from Katsumi, Miyu supposed. But it felt so very good, and so much better without threats and danger attached.

Chise brought her hands up to Chise's head as Arata began to slowly rock his hips back and forth in slow thrusts, staring down at the assemblage of machinery that made up his stepsister's thighs. He turned his head when he heard another “Seam Locks Disengaged” and watched as, with a soft moan from Miyu, her head was pulled up and away from her neck, connected much as her hips to her upper body were by thick bands of colored wiring black power cables. Chise walked over to a nearby chair, almost pulling those wires and cables taught, and brought the chair over closer to give Miyu's wires and cables a bit of slack. Sitting down, spreading her legs, Chise brought Miyu's willing head down between her legs, pushing her hips forward as tiny mechanical sounds began from Miyu's unhesitating laps and licks against Chise's puffed folds. Holding Miyu's head tightly against her sex, Chise bucked her hips and moaned out unashamed, tilting her head back as she pushed her chest out.

Arata, meanwhile, began to thrust harder into Miyu's body, letting out a deep groan of his own as he grasped Miyu's rear tightly, thrusting deeply into her body as he felt Miyu's left leg slowly rise to rest against his hips, then wrap around his waist. Arata, meanwhile, took hold of Miyu's ass as the thrusts began to get hard enough to bang her hips against the wall. He let out grunts and groans as he continued, fully taking advantage of what he knew now to be mechanical stamina. Thrusting hard up into her hips, he could hear the hip servos whine and buzz out, almost in pleasure themselves, his eyes shutting tightly as the synthetic vaginal walls closed tightly around his equally synthetic cock.

Chise, meanwhile, took hold of the back of Miyu's head and began to grind her face against her folds, while Miyu's tongue slipped into Chise, feeling her press against the warm, moist synthetic flesh. Her eyes fluttered, the red light flickering for just a moment as Chise took pause from grinding Miyu's face against herself, instead grasping one of her own breasts. Just as Miyu's upper torso began to stroke, roll and pinch her own tan nipples, the sensor-laden buds singing with each touch brought to them.

Arata shifted his position, pulling his stepsister's hips away from the wall and turned them around, mindful of the outstretched wires and cables as he brought her down to the floor. He took hold of her legs, gripping her ankles, and began to thrust hard inside of her, resting on his knees as he looked down at the bare machinery pushing out from her hips. Arata groaned out, loudly, uncaring of who might hear behind the thin walls.

Chise too began to moan, groaning loudly as she slipped her hands up and down over her scalp. Throwing her head back, squirming in her seat, barely able to contain herself from the sensation of Arata and Miyu's pleasure flooding her own. She moaned out, unable to restrain herself, programming breaking any sense of control in order to satisfy her user. All three were all so aware of their mechanical nature in their own little ways. Chise her programming, Miyu being disassembled and Arata with his ceaseless thrusts.

It wasn't sure who it was that hit their peak first. But it hardly mattered. A signal to cum had struck all three of them, and all three did as the signal commanded. Arata came powerfully inside of Miyu, as Miyu felt a hot gush of lubricants squirt from Chise's sex, staining her face. Miyu felt thoroughly used. All three of them began to pant softly, before stopping, realizing that none of them had to. No human expectations were needed to be satisfied, as they enjoyed their own sense of deep pleasure. Arata let go of Miyu's legs, as Chise raised her head, giving Miyu a passionate if messy kiss. Soon, Arata came over to share it, all three androids still reveling in a programmed afterglow.

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An hour later, all three of them stood, clothed and clean, with Miyu reassembled and in her denim jacket, a white and blue horizontal striped top and a denim skirt. She leaned into Arata's side, looking out over Jinkoushima International Aerospaceport. Night had fallen, and from the overlook, they could see the glittering lights of the runway and launch pad. Tiny lights moved back and fourth near the front parking lot, and the distant screech of jet engines coincided with a set of pulsing lights rising up from the rest. The three of them watched as it rose off into the cloudless night, becoming lost in the distant glow of the stars above the dark ocean below.

Chise was the first to speak. “A hell of a view.” The comment came with a smirk as she looked over at the cuddling pair, the smirk softening to a smile. “You two make an adorable couple, you know that?”

Arata looked over to Chise over Miyu's head, smiling in her direction. It was Miyu who spoke however. “How about you come over here, Chise? I hate seeing you standing there all on your own.”

Chise smirked as she looked out to the lights of JIA, shaking her head. “Eh. I'm not really a cuddle type.”

Miyu turned her head back to look out at scenery. “Bull, I know that deep down in there, you have some cuddling programming. You're a companion model just like me after all.” She then turned her head up to look at Arata. “You know, you really have to show me more of these secret places you like to run off to. You got a great eye for scenery.”

Arata tilted his head slightly, blinking once in thought. “You suppose that's programming, too? I mean, it's all programming, but you suppose it was written into me by...well, whoever put me together?”

Miyu sighed. “The less you think about that, the better. It just gets confusing after a while. I mean, you never thought about things like that when you thought you were human, right?”

Arata chuckled. “Not helping with this whole philosophical quandary thing, Miyu.”

Miyu sighed, and then looked over to Chise, who was now standing up and looking over to the cuddling pair. “Nah, I should be heading back.” She smiled and put her hands back into her pants pockets, then walked over and kissed each of their cheeks.

Miyu chuckled in response, turning and pulling away from Arata for a moment. “I thought you said you didn't cuddle!”, she called out as Chise turned around around and playfully threw Miyu a middle finger, raising a hand over her shoulder and into the air to do so. Miyu giggled, then said “Love you, too!” She then sighed and turned around to relax against Arata's side again.

“Going to see her down at the arcade again, soon?” Arata looked down at Miyu, who shrugged against him. “Not sure? Too much has changed?”

Miyu smiled a little. “I guess I am just worried I am going to start having sex with her on the Galaxy Super Time Bike machine. Or she is. Or...” She sighed a little. “Now I'm in the quandary, here. I mean...Do we continue our lives as normal? Act like everything is the same, but we're all having sex and taking each other apart?”

Arata shook his head. “I don't know. I mean, so much has changed in all of us...Well, maybe not Chise as much, but it has for you and certainly has for me. I mean, it REALLY has for me. But...Well, I don't know. We'll see what happens, I guess. I mean, I'm an emancipated android, now. Your mom knows that now...”

Miyu sighed. “That was an awkward call...”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Arata commented. “At least I didn't mention our relationship, yet. Even after I opened up a panel or two, I think she was still in disbelief. I seriously thought she was going to start to malfunction.”

Miyu chuckled as she pictured the scenario in her mind. “Oh, God...But yeah, Arata. You're right. I guess we just gotta' see what happens. Maybe take it easy. I know we're androids, but I want to be careful before we jump into something...legal, you know.”

Arata raised his eyebrows as he stared out at the twinkling lights. “Already, we're talking about marriage? Man, you aren't kidding about androids moving fast through these things.”

Miyu giggled and gently slapped his chest. “I'm talking about...” She paused a moment, then sighed. “Becoming something other than brother and sister. Just...You know, two androids who love each other. So just in case we decide to move on...”

Arata took a step back, took hold of Miyu's shoulders and then pulled her in to a tight embrace, leaning down and kissing her deeply. Miyu closed her eyes swiftly into the kiss, and then they broke it off again. Somewhere, out in the distance, another set of jet engines screamed off into the sky. Miyu smiled up at him, as Arata looked into her eyes. “Miyu, I don't care what we are. I want to be with you, that's all. We can figure out the titles and the words when we get to that point.”

Miyu smiled, nodded, and sighed happily, closing her eyes and resting her head against Arata's chest. She then turned to look out at the twinkling lights of JIA, as Arata pulled his arm around her shoulders.

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[[Category:Saya]]
[[Category:Stories]]

Coming Home

2019-10-18T17:23:17Z

Saya: Some typo fixes~

''This was a story commissioned by TheShoveller / Calsetes.''

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Lee Colins stared out at the aerospaceport tarmac, idly observing the aircraft as they were loaded with passengers, crew and luggage. He had arrived over forty minutes ago, and after a security check and final baggage claim, he took a moment to relax after the long flight home. He caught a glimpse of his reflection, seeing a clean-shaven young man with short brown hair, green eyes and a little bit of chin stubble staring back at him. He hadn't shaved in a while, but he'd solve that problem once he was at home.

It was mind boggling to think about how long it had truly been since he had left. Graduating high school at seventeen, he had won a prestigious scholarship to one of America's best tech-focused universities. From there, he had excelled at cybernetics, graduating near-top of his class in the field of Cybernetics Engineering. While there, he had been scouted by a leading Japanese technology firm, which was headquartered in Junkoushima, the island-city that had been artificially constructed some decades ago, and housed a large number of self-aware and self-determining machines. While there, he had earned several other degrees in related fields.

Adjusting to the culture was something of a struggle for a few months, but he soon acclimated, though never quite got used to the difference. He had made a few friends, both human and mechanical, but while it was where he lived, it had never felt quite like home to him. Even after his promotion to a senior position among the diverse employees, he had never felt like he belonged there, or at least didn't feel for his island home as strongly. Home for Lee Colins was a small two story home in a suburb just outside Denver, Colorado, and while it had taken him a bit of time to get readjusted to the altitude difference between here and the island of Junkoushima, he felt a sense of warmth at seeing the tall peaks of Lookout Mountain, a feeling of deep nostalgia. To the twenty four-year-old, it felt like a true homecoming.

But as he pondered that, a twang of guilt caused his soft smile to downturn. At the end of every semester in college, Lee had made the trip home to visit his stepmother. She was a warm and loving woman, who had married his father after the accident. It had been long enough that he had subdued the overwhelming grief of those first few months, but even now, well over a decade, it never truly went away. He missed the mother he could only barely remember, and missed both his father as the man he had known until his sixth year and the physically broken but prideful man that clung to life with white knuckles for another three years after. Though he had loved them both, it was his stepmother, Renée, who had truly raised him. And it was she who held the biggest place in his heart.

But after college and especially after his hiring, he could no longer make the trip as easily. While they kept in touch through phone calls, e-mail and video chat, it just wasn't the same. And while they made the arrangements for his visit in the upcoming weeks, the calls were shorter, and the emails more succinct. He had wondered if something was wrong, but in his optimistic mind, he had relegated the issue to one of minor concern. Perhaps she'd just gotten busier, he had reasoned. Though with her selfless devotion to both her home and her family, Lee wondered just what that could have been. The other thought was that she was simply getting older, but age had never slowed her down before. But time, he knew, could catch up to anyone. It just seemed especially strange to think of his stepmother, the bedrock of what felt like a tumultuous early life, could ever waver, even if she was a good three years older now than the last time he'd seen her in person.

Pulling himself away from the window as the muffled, distant whine of a jet taxiing down the runway coaxed him from his reverie, and he turned away with his suitcase rolling along behind him. The spherical robotic luggage container rolled along on its treads, its sensor cameras beneath its collapsed handle allowed it to duck and weave past the passengers that were coming and going from the city during the very start of its tourist season. Snow had come early for the city, and as a lifelong resident of the nation's tallest state capitol, Lee had prepared accordingly with a gray coat and a hand-knit scarf already over his white button-up long sleeved shirt and slate gray business trousers. It had taken him a while to get used to business wear, but now he could hardly imagine a day without a suit and tie.

After he made his way through the gate, he went down to the rental car agency and picked up his keys. To his surprise, a female android greeted him at the kiosk, and a sapient one at that. America had been slower to accept such androids as normal members of society, and while plenty had been purchased, many retained jobs that were similar to their original functions. It wasn't quite like Japan, where androids identifying as family members, siblings or spouses were more common, and enrolled in colleges for careers that could be outside of their given function. It seemed to be just as much a matter of culture as programming. After a friendly but brief discussion of their respective jobs, which had led to Lee giving a business card to her, he found his car, put his luggage in the trunk, then got inside.

He used the keys only to unlock the door, pressing a button to start the engine and then used the on board guidance systems to start the vehicle. Laying back, the interior, at first illuminated only with a few strips of relaxing blue LED lights following the smooth contour of the roof, lit up as the vehicle's front interior above the dash, roof and rear replaced featureless darkness with a real time video display. A Heads Up Display soon rose up in a snazzy user interface, detailing his destination, miles to go, the weather and a minimap of the area around the airport that, if he so chose, Lee could expand or contract with just a few finger gestures.

It had felt like an age since the last time he took something other than public transportation, and the seat he found himself reclining in felt heavenly. Keying in his destination, he felt the vehicle move beneath him as it slowly left its packed parking area. Soon, it was out of the parking garage and onto the road connected to the airport. His trip took him down the freeway, around the city of Denver, winding its way on the optimum path through traffic to the suburb of Pine Springs, and then home.

Home, at least what had been home for the majority of Lee's life, was a two story suburban ranch home, situated at the very end of the neck of a cul de sac. It was well-maintained, though as the car approached closer to the front yard, Lee did notice that the grass was looking a little long. When Lee was younger, Renée had paid neighborhood kids twenty dollars an hour to clean up the yard and mow the grass. Arranging patio furniture and picking up toys, then later sports equipment was something she did frequently, but actual lawn care had never been a specialty of hers. She often remarked that it was due to a grass allergy, and Lee had no reason to disbelieve her. After all, she was otherwise tireless in her duties around the home.

Though curious, the state of the lawn was not something that had bothered him as the car rolled into the driveway. Lee had not called ahead. He had wanted the visit to be a surprise for her, as they hadn't spoken in some time beyond simple email correspondence. But as he crossed the patio stones and approached the front door, he noticed something rather peculiar. The home's mailbox was closer to the door than those of other homes in the neighborhood. Lee's father had it set up that way after the accident, so that he could still get the mail himself despite the severity of his condition, and even after his passing, Lee and Renée had never bothered to move it. There was no practical reason to, and to be frank it felt somehow wrong not to have it there. Though electronic communication had pretty much rendered paper extinct in the formal scene, governments and companies still preferred sending paper medium letters, and a cursory inspection driven by curiosity born of the raised flag next to the box had Lee open it. Inside, there must have been eight or nine envelopes, and at a quick glance, all appeared to be junk mail.

Renée was always fastidious about this sort of thing, checking the mail both electronic and physical quickly and responding to bills or notices promptly. This wasn't like her. The curiosity was now beginning to segue into concern, but Lee was still calm. He turned his attention to the door, which hadn't changed much at all from his recollection, and knocked twice, loud enough to be heard. He briefly marveled at the fact that he could still recall the home's acoustics well enough to know exactly how hard to knock, before he noticed that he heard nothing on the other side. After waiting around fifteen seconds, he tried again. All that came afterward was an uncomfortable silence. He reached down, tried the door, and found it unlocked. His concern grew.

“Mom?” As he stepped in he called out to her. Though the layout was as familiar to him as ever, much of the interior had been changed. Lee had most of his old things sent to him after he moved to Japan, though some items he had to inevitably sell due to the limited space his apartment afforded. As he stepped in, he noticed how the TV was gone, though Renée had mentioned she didn't watch much TV anymore, so that didn't surprise him. As he stepped further in, shutting and locking the door behind him, what had surprised him was that the interior looked untouched for a long time. Plates were still set on the long table in the dining room, separated from the living room and front entrance-way only by a chest-high wall, which became a full-sized supporting wall as it went towards the kitchen.

As he walked over to the living room, he could see that almost every item of furniture there had a fine layer of dust coating it. No lights were on, something he had not even thought to check on from the outside. He stepped back, the concern now a genuine fear, hesitation in his steps as he approached the kitchen. The pots that hung up on the wall were clean, but had not seen use in ages. The microwave was spotless, as was the stove. And the small kitchen island in the center of the small room had a washcloth laid across it. Lifting it out of curiosity, dust rose from it, and then billowed out from underneath as he set it back down again onto the tiles that made up the island's top surface.

What had happened? Was she away? Had she gone on vacation? There were no pets to take care of, no plants to water. The nest was empty, so had she moved? Left entirely? If so, where would she have gone, and why was the home unlocked, all her things left behind? Darker thoughts crept into his mind. It raced with possibilities, conjuring up images of her collapsed form left laying on the floor, a victim of some unknown medical condition. Renée had to have been in her late fifties now, as his father had married her when she was young, but she seemed to keep in shape and hadn't lost any of the age of her youth when she was raising Lee. The correspondence showed no sign of ill health, and if it had been serious Lee knew she would have mentioned it, though he had no evidence to prove it.

“Mom?” He called out again, louder this time and with the worry clear on his voice. Past the dining room, he walked quickly up the stairs, the banister changed from when he was last here, but beyond a change in the shade of color in its laminated wood he didn't bother to note the details. His hand reached for a light switch that had been there since he was thirteen, and lit the landing and upstairs hallway up in the glow of a freshly-changed light bulb No response. Could she not hear him?

Acting before he thought, Lee turned quickly to the right and reached out for the brass doorknob to his parent's room, and with a twist, opened the door. Before he laid his eyes on anything else, he was greeted with the sight of a naked back, his eyes tracking downwards in seconds to see a familiar, voluptuous rear clad in a thin pair of dark purple panties. His eyes widened, and he quickly closed the door.

“Oh, crap, mom! Why didn't you answer me?! Geez, I come home for the first time in forever and you...” Lee's words trailed off as he realized that his stepmother hadn't responded at all to his unexpected intrusion. Curious and worried, he slowly pushed open the door and took a peek inside. The bedroom, like most of the rest of the house, was immaculate. Unlike the other rooms, however, it had shown signs of use. Namely, fresh bed sheets and a PC in the corner with an orange power indicator showing it was still plugged in, and a monitor that was about a generation behind the standard. But as he opened the door further, his eyes once again fell across that naked back, and as they lingered, he realized that Renée was not moving.

“...Mom?” The worry had returned, but was now mixed with something altogether different. The confusion was clear on Lee's face, as he broke his eyes away from the sight to reach for a light switch next to the door. Renée did not react in the slightest to the sudden illumination of the room, and as Lee took a closer look, he realized that she appeared to be almost frozen mid-movement. Her clothes, a light gray blouse that was slightly oversized for her and a blue skirt that likewise did little to draw attention to her legs, were piled neatly on the bed. Renée was only wearing the panties, her G-cup bra lay at her feet. Both her arms were crooked slightly at the elbows, fingers pointing towards the edge of the bed. Frozen, it looked like, as she was taking off her bra.

Lee approached slowly, feeling hesitant as he reached out to touch his stepmother's shoulder. He gently, slowly shook it, and found no response. His hesitation grew as he walked around to peer into her face. He wasn't quite sure what he was expecting, but the sight of her eyes completely devoid of the beautiful blue color and finer detail that he had grown so accustomed to. Instead, they were stone gray and featureless. One of her dark brown bangs hung in front of her right eye, the stylish braided ponytail she kept behind her head slipped over her shoulder. His hand pulled away suddenly, he forced himself to look down, past her well-endowed chest and her somewhat puffy pink nipples down to her abdomen. The sight of it made his eyes widen.

On Renée's abdomen, there was a burn mark, but it wasn't like a burn on human skin, instead the black soot of intense heat. It formed a perfect rectangular outline surrounding the center of her abdomen, where her belly button was situated. Kneeling down, Lee reached out and pressed his fingers to the skin. At first, he felt nothing but the soft texture of skin, feeling backed by fat and rigid muscle, like most any other human. But as Lee's fingers moved over Renée's belly button, he felt something harder, more like plastic, and pressed in. It took Lee a few seconds to release the pressure after hearing the muffled plastic click, and when he did, the outlined panel popped out with it.

Lee was stunned. He sat back, leaving the panel to hit the floor, as the worn components of an android's frame presented themselves, the circuits and wiring damaged by what looked like a serious hardware fault. He looked up at his stepmother, ignoring her topless state, and back down to the panel, feeling a sinking feeling in his chest. His lips parted, mouth agape, he stared at it unblinking, attempting to reconcile the facts in front of him with what he was experiencing.

The woman he had called 'mother' all these years, for most of his life, was a robot.

Through the shock of it all, there was a kind of bizarre irony to it that immediately became apparent. Lee's mother wasn't just a robot, she was a malfunctioning robot, a broken robot. The problem he had spent all those years learning to solve, and it was now exactly what his ailing 'mother' needed. And as he pondered that, he thought of a slew of other questions. Had his father known? Had Renée somehow duped him when he was vulnerable? Lee knew that perhaps the march of time had made his characterization of his father somewhat muddled, but he knew that it wasn't likely that he'd be fooled into thinking Renée was human if that were the case. His body was broken, but his mind was sharp. A skilled mechanical engineer himself, Lee's father would have been hard to dupe that way.

Perhaps the simplest explanation was the correct one, as his own engineering experience had so often taught him. Lee's father had purchased Renée for the purposes of...being his wife? The more he thought of it, the less simple it seemed. But it also felt like the correct answer, somehow.

As he put a hand to his forehead, Lee realized that he was distracting himself with all this speculation. Slowly shaking his head, he looked back up at Renée and peered into her inner workings. In the dim light of the room, he fished in his pocket for his phone, and turned on its flashlight. As he did, what looked like a bad situation was confirmed to be even worse than he had initially thought. Of the lengths of wire that went down Renée's abdomen towards her hips and up towards her chest, following along the metallic spine flanked by actuator pistons, only one he saw looked undamaged, and even then it was only a section of a wire that likely went in both directions for some length. The servo mechanisms that drove Renée's metal 'spine' looked worn from here, which meant that they were probably near totally shot. Another thing his engineering education had taught him was that anything that looked bad on the outside was probably worse on the inside. With just a brief glimpse, the enormity of the job before him was made clear.

Lee stood up and walked past the shorter android, contemplating what to do. He briefly thought about canceling his vacation and coming back to work to get his tools, but that would be impractical. Then came the idea of bringing Renée to Japan with him. That, too, seemed impractical, and as Lee pondered it, he wondered how Renée could be his legal guardian. He was fairly sure it wasn't legal at the time, and might not have even been legal now. He hadn't been paying much attention to artificial person-hood politics in the States, as he was usually too focused on his work while in Japan. Did this mean that Renée was registered as a human? Would his father do something so questionably legal like that to give him a mother to raise him? Again, that was assuming he even knew...

He stopped himself, putting a pair of fingers to the bridge of his nose as he got himself out of the ever deepening spiral of thoughts. There would be a time and a place for this, but not now. Now he just had to focus on getting Renée functional again. And to do that, he needed to know some things. And the very first was what sort of model Renée was.

Pushing all thoughts of who this was out of his mind, Lee brought up his phone and activated an app made for members of the robotics industry such as himself. It was standard practice to have every robot have a bar code or other form of identification, even the most realistic ones. Tapping a few times on the app brought up the scanning program, which wirelessly connected to a massive product database. He then brought the phone up against Renée's neck, and trailed it down her back. At first, he didn't get anything, but running it back up her legs and thighs got a hit. The enhanced scanners on the phone detected a QR code. Running it through the system, Lee got his answer.

Renée was a DomesTech model, a company that was once rather prominent, but had fallen into something of a decline. Still in business, or at least they still manufactured components for their prior products which had something of a cult following thanks to their reliability and intelligence in an affordable package. Specifically, she was either a 2800 or 3000 series Child Care Unit, which were designed for child care and even child rearing to a limited degree, young children or babies mostly.

As he read the information out on the phone, one hand semi-consciously went to the side of his head. He sat down on the edge of the bed and read in silence. Of course his father would buy the relatively inexpensive option for this. Then again, he did have a knack for saving money through smart purchases. And Renée did serve her function well... And with that thought, the surreal nature of it all came back in waves. He pressed his hand to his forehead and let out a long, heavy breath through his teeth.

“Okay, okay...Maybe...Maybe just give yourself a bit of a rest, huh? You've been on a long flight, and...you're so stressed out that you're talking to yourself out loud...and your stepmother's a robot.” He pinched the bridge of his nose again, and raised his head up from his phone and found himself at eye level with his stepmother's chest. He quickly averted his eyes, turning his head, and then stood up and quickly walked out of the room.

As he left, though, he couldn't help but feel the uncomfortably pleasurable sensation of his member stiffening in his pants. He couldn't explain it, and so decided to occupy his mind with another task. Still feeling the jet lag from the long trip, but too bothered by the sudden arousal, he didn't want to just rest without a way to occupy his mind. He decided instead to check something.

When he was younger, he had been told by his father specifically not to go into the basement workroom, which for all intents and purposes was the basement, as only a tiny corner of the room had not been dedicated to the lab he had only seen once or twice in his youth. When his father was alive, he had obeyed the command out of respect. He wasn't hard, or cruel, but that just made the command that was always carried in a stern tone all the more serious. It was easier to understand and obey because of how much it had contrasted with his otherwise gentle demeanor. He could be pig headed at times, stubborn to the core and defiant, but even when his condition was at its worst, he was never unnecessarily harsh.

After he passed, the deference to his father's wishes had transformed into respect for the man himself. There had been moments in the past where he had considered opening that door and finding out what was down there. His recollections of the few times he had gone into the basement were at best hazy, and he had always remembered what he saw as 'engineering stuff' that, at the time, he had neither the interest nor the capacity to understand. But when his interest grew, so did his curiosity. Every time he had approached that door at the foot of the stairway, however, he grew hesitant. It felt like he was about to enter a crypt, the last resting place of mortal remains, even though his rational mind knew that all that was down there were probably some old machines. Going in felt like a break-in, and the thought of perusing his father's workshop felt like grave robbing.

But as he wondered about Renée, how she had been kept functional for so long over all these years, he wondered if perhaps there was a solution to this problem down there? And if not, maybe it was a step in the right direction? And, after all, considering the revelations he had already learned, what more could there be down there that could outdo that?

He lowered his head, rolled his shoulders, and pushed himself into a stand. Walking down the steps, he headed down the hallway and down another flight of steps to the basement door. The hesitation struck again. It took great force of effort to reach out and take hold of the doorknob, and as he pushed against it, he found it to be unlocked. It was strangely heartwarming for Lee to know that his father had felt enough trust in his son to leave it like this, but then he realized that perhaps it had been left that way for Renée? He held it a bit longer, before pushing in.

The door creaked on its hinges. The basement was dark, though a shaft of light illuminated a corner of the hallway from a ground-level window, though the light was broken up slightly by blades of grass from the slightly unkempt lawn. Dust came up in clouds from the unswept floor, and Lee had to bring his arm up to his face to prevent from sneezing. Thankful he wasn't allergic, he started looking around for any kind of light switch, and eventually, found one on the wall.

The fluorescent lamps on the ceiling seemed to visibly struggle to activate, flickering wildly before the light became steady. In the orange glow, the contents of his father's work room were laid bare. The basement was surprisingly not stark concrete flooring, but rubber tiles that covered the floor in one tightly interlocking sheet. The work benches were a mix of almost quaintly archaic hardwood waist-high shelves and silvery sleek metal cabinets bolted to the wall near the ceiling. Dominating the center of the room was a metal mass covered by a semi-transparent plastic tarp. Lee walked to it, pulled it away, and after momentarily regretting the decision from the billowing dust cloud it generated, Lee took a moment from his coughing fit to eye the device.

It was a robotics workstation. The central structure was a chair, an adjustable base bolted directly to the floor allowed it to be tilted forward, back and turned in three hundred and sixty degrees to any angle a user needed, looking rather a lot like a dentist's chair. Thin robotic arms, which could be autonomous and assist directly with repairs or used solely to hold tools were attached to one side. A monitor with a flat screen was on the opposite side, with an attached mechanical keyboard for diagnostics of both the workstation and its occupant. A lamp was positioned above that, the powerful halogen lights able to shine light into even the deepest crevice of a robotic framework.

It was impressive technology fifteen years ago, but most of these systems were outdated by now. Lee observed the shelves, and checked them. To his dismay, while parts were present for Renée's model, not all of them were here. Central Processor circuitry for the most part, which was a relief, along with a few servo motor replacement components, but there were only a few reels of replacement wiring and, somewhat strangely, no screws, bolts or other fastening devices. All of the tools were here, again, outdated, but it was enough to work with.

Lee wondered how many times his father had brought Renée down here. And afterwards, how many times, if at all, Renée herself came down here to repair herself. Raising a young boy single-handed would have been difficult for a human woman, much less an android who over the course of fifteen years had gone from state-of-the-art to completely outdated. Hell, didn't the company stop making androids around the time he was entering senior year? He pushed the thought aside and after his final cursory glance about the workshop, went to head back upstairs.

He didn't go to Renée immediately. Instead, he went to the rental car. Opening the trunk, he got his luggage out, which followed him dutifully across the walkway to the front door. He picked it up by the handle the rest of the way. The design really didn't handle stairs well. And once he was down in the basement, set the luggage down on the workbench and tapped the side. The side of the spherical device opened in an iris, shrinking outwards from the center, and reaching inside, past his toiletries and spare clothes, Lee pulled out a black plastic stick with several points on the side and a joint in the middle.

Setting the stick down on one of the wooden work benches next to the work station, Lee sat himself down on a dusty stool and pulled on the left-hand side of the stick. As it did, a paper thin and flexible touch screen extended outwards, and the mimetic material began rising up to form a bumpy surface. It wasn't long after until a white light activated, backing the bumps to reveal an American standard keyboard configuration. The top section had also extended along with the bottom, and as the keyboard lit up, so too did a similar length of material that flashed once to display the company logo for the compact computer's OS.

Adjusting the screen, Lee logged on. It was a personal computer, but he occasionally did non-sensitive work on it. Rather ironically, the usual reasons for using the other compact computer in his luggage were reversed. He didn't want a record of Renée's repairs to somehow end up in his company's server, and he'd doubtless have to access Renée's processors at some point.

Now came the more difficult part. He stood up and walked upstairs, then back up the second floor stairs to where Renée stood. Straightening her limbs proved impossible, they were stuck fast. So he had to awkwardly hook his arm around Renée's waist and get her down both flights of steps, and her model was heavier than he was used to. After almost dropping her down the basement steps and knocking her head against the basement door frame, he succeeded in getting her to the work station.

Next came an even harder part. Deciding to just dive in, and remembering his training to view his subjects objectively, he hooked his fingers into Renée's panties and worked them off her feet. It wasn't done neatly, since he had to try and get them out from underneath her unmoving feet, and in the end opted to simply cut them off. With that done, he set Renée down on the workbench.

Lee found his eyes lingered on Renée's body. There was something about the way she was positioned, as if still standing mid-bra removal, arms slightly raised and outstretched, legs bent, that seemed so mechanical. There was undeniably a kind of...appeal to it. Lee refocused. Normally it wasn't so difficult to concentrate on working on an android, but the fact that this was Renée he was working on was doing something to him. He shook his head and brought up the model database again, looking up the internal schematics of the 2800 or 3000 CCU model. There, he learned a way to tell precisely what sort of android she was.

Most androids of the past thirty to forty years had a motor system reset function, specifically designed for situations such as this when their servos locked down to prevent them from falling over and damaging themselves after a serious fault or sudden shut down. In the 2800 series, this was tied to a switch in the abdomen. Not seeing such a switch even among the damaged components within Renée's open panel, this meant that she had to have been a 3000-series. With that learned, Lee turned his attention to Renée's neck. There, modified to be nigh-imperceptible, was a hair-thin seam. This was one of the few places on the otherwise sealed seams where the internal mechanisms could be accessed without opening a panel or cutting open the synthetic outer dermis.

Turning to a wooden work desk, he pulled out a pair of small tweezers. They were intended for fine precise mechanical work, but their flat metal tips would work for the job he had in mind. Pressed together, they slipped into the seam, and spread the synthetic dermis apart, just a few inches but enough to see what Lee was looking for. Set behind a few wires and thin black cables that looked damaged, but not as badly damaged as the wiring in her abdomen, was a white plastic tab. Taking another tool, a small screwdriver, he reached in and pressed the tip against it.

The button was a wholly analog system, which meant that it had no trouble doing its job. Renée's limbs eased into the work station's arm and leg rests, and her head slowly eased back. Yet he could hear her otherwise quiet servo motors whir loudly, some even rattling as they eased the limbs they controlled down to an easier to work with position. That done, Lee went to work on the next part of his plan.

Between the sounds of her servo motors, the damaged wiring and the clear indications of a short, it was obvious that Renée's body was not safe to operate without serious repairs. Thus, drastic action had to be taken. Bringing up a 3000-series' schematics again, Lee worked slowly, using a screwdriver and a specialized tool that looked somewhat like an awl that decoupled the connections between wire sections. Leaning in close to observe his work let Lee forget that these mechanical parts were part of the machine that was his stepmother, and he managed to get this done with his usual cautiously tempered speed. The 'operation' was done in twenty minutes.

But when he rose up again, set to follow through with the next part of the procedure, he paused. Staring down at Renée's face, at her open colorless eyes and the frozen expression of mild surprise, Lee couldn't help but think of the woman he had grown to see as a parent. The woman...He shut his eyes, breathed out, and after setting his tools aside, reached out and took hold of Renée's head. Holding her by the sides of her head, he gently turned her head left, then right. At the last turn, there was a soft hiss and a mechanical clack, and Lee slowly lifted Renée's head from her neck, leaving behind a bundle of damaged wiring surrounding a plastic throat and the top of a metal facsimile of a spinal column. Carrying her head over to where his computer sat, Lee set it down on the table. He took out a series of adapter cables he originally planned to use while at his hotel, and found that the oldest USB-style plug, the one he hardly ever used, was the only one that worked properly. Sliding it in to Renée's processor access port just underneath her head with a soft click, he did nothing else with the computer just yet.

Bringing up his phone again, Lee consulted the schematics again for the next part of the procedure. Like a human's skull, the cranial module of an android wasn't a single lump of plastic or hunk of metal, but a series of tightly interconnecting plates. While for humans this allowed for a bit of flexibility to prevent damage due to rigidity, for androids this meant that the inner workings of their heads could be carefully accessed. And while some androids only kept audio/visual systems in their heads, the 3000 series had a processor arrangement kept within the cranial unit, similar to many of the Japanese units he'd worked on over the years for his company.

First, though, he had to access the cranial unit housing Renée's processors directly. This part only required something thin to reach a hidden recess just above and behind Renée's left ear. He used the wire decoupler for this, the thin, sharp tip slipping into the pinhead-sized recess, hidden by a tiny flap of synthetic skin. Pressing in, he heard a click, and suddenly seams formed all over Renée's head. From the very base of her head down to just below her eye sockets and up the top of her nose, the thin plastic plates backing Renée's synthetic skin and scalp rose up, allowing Lee to carry the whole thing up and away, connected to each other by thin but sturdy non-conductive rods of alloy metal. To his surprise, her hairstyle kept relatively well, though a few stray strands had gotten loose.

There, he saw Renée undeniably exposed for what she truly was. Her eyes had shut when the dermal plates rose up, but the semi-circular optic covers designed to look like eyeballs went with them. They left behind fixed wide-angle camera sensors set within Renee's optical sockets. Following them up was the upper frontal cranial plate making up most of the upper part of Renée's skull, which went up to the curve of her metal cranium, the light alloy held together with plastic tabs that could move and open as needed on command. He brought the tool down and made use of them, pressing into another recess in the back of Renée's cranium, turning her head around as it opened like the petals of a blossoming flower.

The normally tightly stacked processor components rose up like the pages in a binder, moving on thin metal rods built into the fixed parts of Renée's head. A core processor block was situated at the very base of these components, four plastic cubes tightly packed and interlocked, with two thin metal drives just above. These were Renée's high capacity memory drives, each one containing enough space to ensure that she wouldn't need to store data on a separate drive for decades. Above them were a series of even thinner devices that on first glance looked like archaic printed circuit boards, but on closer inspection were revealed to be made out of semi-translucent blue-tinted crystal, upon which circuit patterns had been etched into the semi-solid crystal medium. These constituted Renée's personality component, though nowadays this component was usually only consisted of one device that was as thin as a memory drive. A quick inspection of all of them showed that, hardware wise, they hadn't received any damage. At least they had proper protections in place for catastrophic system failure back in Renée's time of manufacture.

With Renée's head connected to the computer, and indicators in her open head showing she was getting power, Lee sat down and began typing on the keyboard in front of him. Logging in, he found the device listing that showed what must have been Renée listed as 'DomesTech Child Care Unit 3000 series DT3070CCU-2J44W9K'. Presumably this was Renée's serial number. Writing it down on a notepad app, he then accessed the device and was greeted with a menu. All processes save the start-up and basic diagnostics functions were password locked.

Lee let out a sigh and a curse, but he decided to focus on this later. He instead brought his cursor over to the 'ACTIVATE' command, and heard Renée starting up before he saw the indicator lights blinking furiously, and worryingly so, in her open head. It took almost thirty minutes longer than it should have to reactivate, and when she did, she was totally quiet. Lee's expression grew concerned as he wheeled the old chair over to face Renée, turning her head around so that she could get a good look at him.

“Ah!” The exclamation, piped through the laptop's audio systems, was so sudden it made Lee jump slightly. “Ah! Ah. Hello. Son. How are you doing?” There were soft whirs and whines, a chorus of mechanical noises as every moving part in Renée's head was rendered audible, and these older models made quite a bit of noise when opened.

“Um. I'm fine. Listen, uh, Mom. Can you tell me how you feel right now?”

“I feel...pie.” Renée smiled softly, but there was a vacant quality to it. The concern Lee felt was mixing with that same strangely pleasurable feeling he had felt earlier, but he disregarded it. Renée continued. “I feel pie would be the best way to greet you when you get back home. How is. Home. How is Japan—J-J-J-J-J-J--Tasting--these days?” Renée's inflection was off, adding emphasis to the wrong words or syllables. Her soft, gentle voice sometimes rose in volume for no reason at all as she continued to ramble on. “I spoke to the neighbor's yesterday about. About. About dog. Their dog. They said he. He. Had moved off to college and I laughed—hahaha!”

“Mom? Renée, can you even hear me? I...” He trailed off as Renée continued to prattle on, the lenses of her exposed optical sensors whirring softly as they focused in and out at random. Something was wrong with her software, and this was a problem. Lee's focus in his career was correcting hardware issues. Software was something he was familiar with for newer models, but even then he knew he was a bit of a script kiddie in that regard. With no other options, and seeing no way to get any information out of her, Lee hit the 'ACTIVATE' icon again on the menu.

“And then there was--” Renée's optics whirred as the lenses widened, the lights blinking off one by one in her head in a sequential but rapid succession. Lee put his hands to his forehead and ran his fingers through his hair, and activated the basic diagnostics function. That proved only marginally useful, as after ten minutes of self-checks, Renée's diagnostics listed over seventy-two software errors, most of which seemed tied to outdated software and data corruption, but no malware thankfully. But it didn't fix the issues, only listing them, likely intended to prevent people from messing up the software and suing the company for damages. He shook his head and folded his arms on the work bench in front of the keyboard.

He racked his brain, trying to think of a solution. There were software writing programs both paid and shareware that he could use, but he didn't have the skills to do it on his own. And while he knew plenty of co-workers who could help, he didn't think of any he could trust to know that the android they were working on in question was his stepmother. He leaned back in the chair, staring at the ceiling of the basement work lab, going over names and places, all either untrustworthy or inaccessible.

Then, he remembered a name. A consultant for the company on a semi-professional basis, one of many freelancers who were hired as 'white hats' to test the defenses of the company's products and their own security systems in mock cyber attacks. Normally, he didn't associate with them, not out of any kind of workplace-related snobbery, just due to the fact that they tended to operate in different circles, but there was one that he had come to know after they had met at the company following a breach of security in the accounting department that he'd become briefly familiar with. Not quite a friend, but they were on friendly terms. The only problem had been that they hadn't spoken in some time. Lee accessed a group chat program, and let out a sigh of relief when he saw them both on his DM list and that they were online. Lee sent an invite for a video call, and as the little jingle started simulating a phone's ringer, Lee briefly took his attention away from the screen. Two rings in, and it stopped, replaced by a woman's voice.

“Moshi—Oh! Hey, it's you, that guy from Yamaguchi Corp. Kinda' early to be calling me about consultation work, aren't you?” Lee mentally kicked himself. It must have been close to dawn in Japan. He turned his head to see that the face on the other end was thankfully smiling. The woman on the other end was of a pale complexion, her skin the color of alabaster, and her eyes a noticeably inhuman red shade. No sclera or pupils, just a solid, somewhat translucent red color that revealed smaller wide-angle optical sensors similar broadly to Renée's. Her face was framed by a bleached bob cut neck-length bangs at the front and a loose bang hung between her eyes at a slight angle. And as Lee's eyes unintentionally followed them down, he briefly caught sight of the buxom woman's thin exposed joint and panel seams, and a chest that was both similar in size to Renée's and completely uncovered.

“Woah,” Lee suddenly exclaimed, turning his head away. “Oh, shit. Chise, I'm sorry, I didn't...Listen, I can wait for a better time, or you can go put on a shirt.”

Yamata Chise made a wiry smirk, sighing and shaking her head. “You know, you humans with your sense of modesty are so friggin' adorable sometimes. I can go put one on if it makes you uncomfortable, but if you're fine with it I'd rather not. My AC's busted and it's looking like it's going to be a hot day, even with the ocean breeze.” Chise turned her gaze away from the monitor the camera was peering from, and Lee turned back to look at her, getting another glimpse of her bare breasts and tan nipples before making sure he kept his eyes on her face. “So, what's up? Someone try to rob you again?”

“No, it's...a personal matter.” Lee paused for a moment, wondering how to word it exactly. “I've got...a family android. I've known her forever, and I was wondering if you could help me with her. I'm a hardware guy, I could probably take apart most androids blindfolded, but I'm useless with software. You did such a good job and--”

“Say no more,” Chise said, her face growing serious. “I've got a soft spot for androids in distress. And engineers who make bold claims.” Chise shot Lee a smirk as she turned her head back to another monitor, her fingers now flying over a holographic keyboard. She probably has haptic feedback sensors built into her fingers, Lee thought, as even androids tended to rely on tactile feedback like humans did. “Okay, so, what's the model?”

“She's a DomesTech 3000 series, but it looks like she's been heavily modified. Serious software and hardware faults, corrupted data by the looks of it.” He felt a weight in his chest as he said that, but he was distracted from his concerns by the whistle that rose from his computer's tiny but powerful speakers.

“Wow, a relic. Modified but not upgraded? Poor thing. It can be hard to take care of yourself when you're an older model, and from what I hear, America doesn't really do a lot to support sapient machines...Okay, enough with the politics, I'm going to load up a VM running Maria 47.” That was a name Lee hadn't heard since middle school. It was an old form of OS specially modified for AI interaction. “That's a bit like a computer inside of a--”

“I know what a Virtual Machine is, Chise,” Lee said with a smile. “I worked on them in college...Thanks, by the way. I'm not sure I can match a corporate asking price but I'll pay you--” Lee found himself cut off by a dismissive wave in his direction.

“Don't worry about it, this one I'll chalk up as a personal project.” Chise smiled briefly before she grew more focused on the monitor in front of her. “Okay, gonna' send you an invite. Accept it, then connect the CCU 3000 to the program. I'll handle the rest.” Lee followed the instructions, seeing the old familiar OS' icons and logo appear on a small window. He had on occasion seen his father use it, though at the time he didn't know what it was for and for whatever reason, it had struck out from the haze of his memory. It wasn't too much longer before a cursor icon appeared and went down to a corner to access the 'connected device'.

Chise's fingers once again flew across the keys, her optics laser-focused on the unseen screen in front of her. “Oooookay, let me see what I'm looking at here...” Lee's focus went from the topless android to the window in front of him, showing a live stream of the virtual machine in operation. It was difficult to follow but fascinating, with Chise bringing up window after window in an effort to access different systems, finding her way through program back doors that were long known to programmers like herself, using them to subvert and disable layer upon layer of security program. He took a quick look at Renée's open head. Lights around and on the circuitry he could see were blinking, indicative of activity, but it seemed Chise was keeping overall activity at low levels, operating only base functions, which was standard for most software operations.

“Woah.” The remark caused Lee's head to turn back to the android on the other side of the world, who now stared at the screen with her 'eyes' wide. “I've got root access and admin permissions. I can sign them over to you but uh...you might want to wait on that, first.”

“Why,” Lee said, worry rising in his voice.

“Well,” Chise began. “It would seem like there's a lot of software damage. Some of it I think is from whatever happened to shut her off in the first place, but a lot of it is just degradation. Corrupted files and programs, a pretty significant memory leak, some other issues...No malware so far, thankfully, but it's looking like everything but her basic, core programming was starting to destabilize.”

“So...you're saying it can't be repaired?” The concern must have been noticeable now because Chise quickly turned her head to look over at the monitor Lee was looking through, then shook her head.

“Oh, no, the damage can be fixed. I mean, most of it can. She's gonna' have some pretty serious gaps in her memory here and there, but for the most part her personality programming and memory data look recoverable. It's just gonna' take a lot of work. To be honest, I'm surprised that she was still functioning.” Chise paused a moment, then tilted her head. “So...I gotta' ask, who was this android to you? I know you aren't one of those types who think we're just machines, from what I've heard from you anyway, but the way you reacted just now. She must have been close to you.”

“She's...It's difficult to explain,” Lee began. “And, no offense, it's why I called you rather than asking one of my co-workers...Listen, can I trust you to keep what I'm about to tell you to yourself? I know that I just called you out of the blue, and it feels like I barely know you, but I'm kind of desperate.”

Chise seemed to consider this for a moment or two, before shrugging. “Sure, why would I tell anyone?” Lee felt the urge to counter the question, as he considered the possibility of Chise using this information to blackmail him, but dismissed it as paranoia derived of mental and emotional fatigue.

“Okay, well...You see...She's...She's my...My mom. Kinda'. It's more accurate to say she's my stepmom. But she practically raised me.” Lee watched as Chise's eyebrow rose, and she pulled her fingers away from her keyboard and folding them on the desk in front of herself, giving Lee a reassuring smile.

“Oh, that's nothing to be ashamed of. I've known a few android moms in my time, and there's nothing wrong with being raised by an android, no matter what those idiot pundits say.” Lee was reassured by her gentle tone, and Chise continued. “Hell, one of my moms is an android, too. And as you can see, I developed into a healthy AI.”

“I...I don't think it's quite the same.” They shared a chuckle, before Lee spoke again. “And...I didn't even know that she was an android. I mean, I don't even know if she knew she was an android. Or that my father knew, or--”

“Hey, hey,” Chise briefly raised a hand. “Don't go down that rabbit hole. A potential sleeper, huh? Eh, wouldn't be my first one. Wouldn't be my first secret family surrogate either.” A wistful smirk came to her face. “Ah, a few years ago, my best friend...ah, that's something we can talk about later.” The ashen-haired android went back to her keyboard. “I'll look for any camouflage programming or anything similar while I'm checking through her systems. It's going to take me most of the day to get this done, though, so you may want to think about getting some rest.”

Lee briefly thought to question the statement about Renée not being the first 'family surrogate' she'd come across, but as a yawn overtook him, he acquiesced to Chise's suggestion. “Yeah...yeah, you're right. Just do me a favor?”

“Sure,” Chise said, almost dismissively, as she refocused on her work.

“Don't reactivate her higher functions unless I'm here. If you're not, I'll do it myself once you're done.” Lee briefly paused before stating “And thanks, by the way. I owe you, Chise.”

“I'll hold you to that the next time I need some free repairs,” Chise said with a smirk. “Go on, off to bed with you.”

Lee smiled and nodded, then ended the call. A check at the VM window showed that Chise was still working, and so Lee got up and turned away from the work table. As he did, his eyes fell on Renée's headless mechanical body. Taking a moment, he walked over to its side, briefly taking a glance over his shoulder at Renée's open head and the blinking circuitry within. It wasn't clear to him if it was curiosity, or something more that drove him to reach out and brush a finger against her soft, pink nipple, but soon he was trailing it down the circumference of her heavy breast, cupping it and giving the soft synthetic breast a squeeze of his fingers. Her skin was smooth, smoother than most humans' he had known, and firmer than the women he had known, at least those who weren't machines. It was a clarifying contrast. Renée seemed somehow different like this. Like inert machinery. Like...an object. No more the woman who raised him than the work station she lay upon. His eyes briefly turned down between her legs, taking in the detail of her bald, smooth sex, and his hand moved away, coming to rest on her inner thigh.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, pulling his hand away as he gave Renée a last longing glance before heading out of the basement, heading upstairs and shutting the door behind him. Remembering that he left his bed clothes downstairs, he sighed, shook his head, and merely shrugged off his jacket and slipped out of his shoes. He had arrived in the early evening, and by the time all the work was done, it was now well into the night time hours. Lee walked over to the couch, fell upon it, and the fatigue overwhelmed him like a tidal wave. He let out a pleasant sigh as he sank into the familiar comfort of the couch cushions and drifted off to sleep.

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When Lee awoke the next morning, he was feeling stiff and sore. The couch, though soft, hadn't been kind to his body, but he was determined to get up and get working on Renée. A quick search of the kitchen confirmed his concerns about the food in the home, namely that there was none, and so he decided to order in. A few hours and one breakfast burrito and coffee later, he felt as good as he felt he was ever going to be, and after getting his shoes back on, headed back down to the basement.

Everything was as it was when he left it. Renée's body laying on the workstation, her head on the work bench nearby, still connected to the computer that had gone into a low power mode overnight. A quick check revealed that the VM had been closed, and that the edits were done. The only new thing was that a new email had been sent. He stretched a little before sitting down on the stool again, and checked the email first.

''To: LeeColins71
From: RedWhiteUsagi

Subj – (none)

Hey, Lee. Got done with that robot you wanted me to fix. Managed to repair its software so it will function like new now, or nearly new. By the way, couldn't help but take a peek at its memories. You're just as cute as a kid as you are now.

Password: 56pt3n1r5q&bT1 (write it down somewhere secure)

P.S: Expect a delivery soon. Sounds like you could use the help.

Sincerely:
''

There was no name at the bottom. Instead, it was a character emoji of what looked like a rabbit made of Japanese characters running across an open field made of numbers. Closing the window, he briefly pondered on what that could have meant. What help did he need? Shaking his head, Lee went to work.

The very first task was to make sure Renée was functional. Bringing up the connected device menu, he was greeted with the same graphical user interface as before for Renée's systems, and after briefly opening up the email again, he brought up the password again. Sighing, hoping it worked, he entered it in, and with that, all the options were now unlocked. He could edit, adjust, and access whatever he wanted. But for the moment, he wanted to just see if Chise's edits had worked.

Hitting the reactivation key was one of the tensest moments of his life. As he sat back, waiting to see what would happen, Renée's exposed processors once again lit up with activity. Blinking rapidly, her optical sensors focused in and out as she dully stated “DomesTech 3000 Child Care Unit Is Now Online. Human Emulation Functions Offline. Attempting To Restore...Complete. System Data Corruption: Minimal. Error. Eighty-Five Percent Of Frame Functions Missing Or Offline. Initializing Human Emulation Mode And Personality Simulation.”

Renée's exposed optics whirred softly as they adjusted in and out, and the lights in her head became a flurry, before they calmed down, and she was quiet. But it wasn't long before her lips pursed, and she let out a long sigh, expressed only as a sound which came from the speakers of Lee's computer. “Oh, goodness...What happened to me?”

Lee let out a breath, his relief palpable, as he leaned against the workbench and his own keyboard. After a moment, he raised his head and looked back down at Renée. “Hey, mom. It's me, Lee. Can you see me?”

“Yes,” Renée stated. “Just outside the range of my vision, but yes. Judging from the fact that I can also see my body on the workbench over there, I suppose I don't really need to state what happened to me or what I am?” She gave Lee a soft smile, but frowned slightly when it wasn't returned. Lee got a bit closer to her.

“Did dad...Did he know you were a...an android when you first met?” Lee's question was met only with silence at first. But Renée did eventually respond.

“Yes. He purchased me, not long after your mother, his wife died. One of his last acts as an engineer was to modify my programming and frame to withstand long periods without proper maintenance. I was programmed to act as your mother, Lee. He...wanted to be sure someone would take care of you, properly, after he was gone.” She smiled softly again. “I'm still honored to have been accepted for that purpose.”

“So,” Lee said as he did a quick visual check of Renée's processors. “How is it that you were able to do that? I mean, raise me and all. There had to have been legal processes that he had to go through, or that you had to agree to.”

Renée smiled, a gentle smile but one that nevertheless seemed a bit forlorn. The pretty features of her lower face were completely contrasted by the metal and plastic just above, the featureless camera eyes showing no true expression. Rather than dislike it, there was something about it that Lee found appealing. More than that, really.

“This was before the age of emancipated AI's, sweetie,” she began. “I was the property of your father, first. After that, he assigned me as your legal guardian by having my ownership passed on to you in his final will. He...had no extended family, no one to claim you, none that he could trust in any event. So, without your knowledge, my ownership was transferred over to you.

“My programming was hard-locked, to prevent you from figuring out what I was,” she continued. “Both your father and myself believed that you would only properly develop if you believed I was human. Your father even undertook steps to make me seem more human-like, even programming within me a sense of forgetfulness. That, it turned out, proved to be a problem.”

“How so?” Lee said, focusing all his attention now on Renée's face, or what was there at least.

“My forgetfulness was tied to a specific program in my core processing systems. It would selectively erase memory data for only a few seconds or on a few subjects before it would restore itself. But the program also caused a calculation error in my logic processing. With every moment of forgetfulness, the problem grew, becoming more and more severe. The workstation would automatically repair me when I suffered serious malfunctions, but over time the problems became more the fault of hardware than software.

“My core function was to be your mother, to be a human for you, but this clashed with my self-preservation protocols, causing more issues. Eventually, after you left for college, I found myself unable to operate for long periods of time. The window of time grew shorter and shorter, every moment risking a critical programming malfunction. I held on, intent to protect your father's home—our home—until I completely crashed. But as I focused on the software issues, I ignored the hardware ones. Eventually...I suffered an electrical fault.”

“And that's when I found you,” Lee said with a smile.

“No,” Renée said. “This was months before you came back. My selfware systems had been damaged. I was malfunctioning constantly after this point. I barely had enough functionality to coherently answer emails, and found myself writing them over and over again.” She sighed. “My body simply wasn't made to operate for this long without repairs. I was going to head back down here, to use the work station again, when I suffered a second electrical fault.”

“You should have told someone,” Lee said, turning to the screen and shaking his head. “You could have suffered a total system failure.”

“I couldn't,” Renée stated with an almost taciturn tone that clashed with her normal personality. It caused Lee to take notice, turning his head towards the disconnected android head sharing the bench space with his computer. “I was programmed not to reveal my true nature. I worried that, even if the legal authorities were aware, it might affect you in other ways. Your education, your career. I could not permit that to happen...Or, at least, I thought I wasn't permitting it.”

“It's okay,” Lee said, interjecting as he reached out and stroked Renée's cheek. “I work in robotics, Renée, I should have known better than to just try and scold you for it.” He dropped his hand and smiled. “Besides which, that makes me the most qualified person to repair you, though you can thank a friend of mine in Japan for the software repairs.”

“Chise?” The sudden statement made Lee's back straighten, and before he could answer, Renée chuckled softly. “She left a text document for me to access in my memory, telling me all about my wonderful son and how he was working hard to put me back together, and that she apologized for the intrusion. She sounds like a lovely woman.”

Lee chuckled and shook his head. “Ah, well, that's one way to put it.” He then decided to switch tacks, his face growing serious. “I'm glad I have you functional again on the software level, but as far as hardware goes, it will take a while to get you functional again. It may be better if I just shut you down for the process.”

“Please, do whatever you feel is necessary,” Renée said with a smile. “You are, after all, my owner. You can do whatever you please with me.” She paused for a moment and chuckled. “Oh, God, sorry, I didn't mean to make it sound so--”

“No worries,” Lee said, standing and walking over to Renée's head. “I can leave you online if you prefer. I'll just close up your head first and put the top of your head's dermal plating back on completely, that way your processors are protected and you look a bit more human.”

“Thank you. I'd like to watch you work, actually. I've always wanted to see you plying your trade.” Renée smiled, and stayed still as her robotic cranium was closed up with a few soft whirs and whines, requiring only that Lee put pressure on the still-connected plating to close it completely. And with the top of her head and scalp, Lee only had to reverse the process that took it off, as it secured itself to her head with a soft hiss and a click. Stepping back, Lee gave Renée a warm smile and she returned it with a wink, indicating her face was functional again. After giving her a thumbs up, Lee then turned to Renée's inert body, before going back to his still open luggage.

Fishing from it the tools he used earlier, he arranged them in their case and then set them on a small tray a bit like a surgeon's tray that was built into the workstation under the manipulator arms. After that, Lee gathered up some other tools that he found from around the workroom. Everything had been left more or less untouched, though it seemed Renée had put the tools away in bins to keep their sensitive electronics and electrical parts protected.

“Those take me back,” Renée said with a soft smile. “Your father would tinker with me for hours, usually with my help, making sure I worked just right. He was so skilled with those tools, even with all that had happened after the accident.” Her smile widened a little. “I think your father would have been proud of you, Lee, to see the kind of person you've become.”

“Well,” he said as he turned on the monitor, watching it load its diagnostics and tool assistance programming, “he can only take part of the credit. You did a damn good job, the best, all things considered.” He then quietly thanked the monitor for working at all as the connected computer system fired up. It was an antiquated OS, but he could work with it, and there seemed to be little if any software degradation.

“Thank you.” Renée paused for a moment before speaking again, her eyes following Lee as he worked, though from her angle at the workbench, she couldn't really see much at first. Her eyes widened a little, however, when she saw one half of her chest plating, with its heavy breast attached, set aside further down the counter, giving her a brief glimpse of her damaged systems. “To think, my internals looked like that...”

“Don't feel too bad,” Lee said as he worked on the second chest plate, repeating what he did with the first, unfastening several latching points and disconnecting the hinge that normally allowed them to open like cabinet doors. Both chest plates removed, the interior of Renée's upper chest was exposed, revealing the primary power cell, auxiliary power systems, the cables and wires running to and from it, her upper servo motor primary signal processor and various other components all related to their functionality, as well as several processor hubs for tactile sensor data. “So many redundant systems. Hard to believe that this was what was needed back in the day to make an android like you function.”

“Yes,” Renée began “and no. DomesTech tended to favor design redundancy both to ensure our systems operated well in an emergency scenario, and to raise the cost of repairs and parts replacement. They cornered the market on android design in North America for some time.”

“Huh,” Lee said, the whine of an electrical drill audible as he began disconnecting the fastening points that held Renée's abdominal plating in place. “It's probably what kept you mostly functional for so long without in-depth repairs. Also, I would have figured you earlier androids were programmed to always sing the company's praises.”

“Oh, I was. But after your father purchased me, it was one of the first things he removed. He said...He said...He said...” Lee stopped as he heard the looped speech, and turned to Renée with a look of concern. She blinked rapidly several times. “Huh. I...can't seem to recall what it was he said exactly. Oh, no, that was one of the corrupted memories, wasn't it?”

Lee nodded somberly. “Yeah, probably. I imagine you'll probably have a few of those moments in the near future.” Lee smiled, then turned and went back to work, lifting the center of Renée's belly plating from her framework. She wasn't pudgy, but she wasn't quite as toned as most androids he had seen either, who tended to prefer that 'idealized' look of the washboard-flat abdomen. He set the plate next to the chest plating, just a little ways down from her head, where the rest of Renée's abdominal plating ended up once it was disconnected.

As Lee peered down into the tightly packed but damaged wiring that filled Renée's abdomen, along with the occasional sub-processor for her motor or tactile sensor functions and the auxiliary servo motor signal processor the android continued. “Anyway, I can safely tell you that it was one of the very first things he had removed from my programming, even if I can't remember what it was exactly he told me. Probably something about not standing for his new robot being a corporate sycophant.”

Lee kept his focus on his conversation and his work as he went down to Renée's wide, shapely hips, and began disconnecting the plating there as well. He saved the vaginal module for last, disconnecting it and slowly easing it out of the socket in her metal hips. Peering into them, he spied the powerful actuators connected to the base of her central support rod, akin to a human spine, that allowed her to bend and twist her waist. The majority of her space in her hips was taken up by her gyroscopic processor that allowed her to maintain and keep her balance, as well as managed her running gait, speed and a whole host of other motor function-related tasks. Her lower servo motor processor was nestled in to the right of it, directly connected to it, and just in front of it was her pleasure sensor processor, nearly as sophisticated as her basic processors in her head. Unsurprisingly, the last of those was the most intact.

“Sounds like dad,” he said with a wistful smile. “Though, I am surprised he addressed you as a robot.”

“He was the only one who could,” Renée said, directing her eyes downward. “I never understood why he programmed me to insist I was human, even when I knew I wasn't. At times, it was maddening. I loved you, and I wanted you to live like a normal human, but there were times, especially when you were older, that I just wanted to pull my chest plating open and show you my inner workings. I--” Renée stopped when she saw that Lee had stopped what he was doing and turned to look at her, an expression of surprise on his face as Renée let out a gasp and blushed. “I...Didn't mean to make it sound...”

“No,” Lee said, setting his tools down and turning to face her. “It's okay. You probably don't even see me as a son, do you? I mean, not really, not like a human would.” Rather than sounding hurt, or upset, Lee was more curious.

“That's...a blunt way of putting it, but...yes. The programming which restricted me from insisting to you I was a human was erased by Chise, partly I suspect as a necessity in order to sign over admin control to you, but partly because I suspect that she disliked the notion. I no longer see you as the person I am to address as my son, but as my owner. I'm sure you know that affects my behavioral functions and personality programming, too. It...Lifts some restrictions and...I. I shouldn't say anything more.”

Lee paused a moment longer, then walked over to where Renée was situated. A powerful urge overtook him, pushed sense and what he knew aside. To Renée's surprise, she was taken by her cheeks and lifted up from the workbench. Carefully, but she wasn't expecting it. A thumb went to her cheek, as a half-dozen wires and cables dangled beneath her head, running back to the computer her 'son' had hooked her into.

“I don't know,” Lee said as he continued to stroke her cheek. “I felt the same way. I didn't want to admit it, at first. I feel as though it's in some way wrong to see you as anything but the woman who raised me. As a stepmother. But...Thinking back to when I found you, standing there, offline and shorted out...At first I was worried for you as a human. But now, I realize, you're a machine. A robot, one that I now own. And that puts some things that I've experienced in my life in a different perspective.”

“What do you--” Renée found her words cut off by a somewhat hesitant kiss, Lee pressing his lips to her soft, synthetic counterparts, as Lee listened to Renée's mechanisms at work. Her eyes shut, her lips parted slightly, her tongue slipping out as he found his own doing the same. Like his body was on autopilot, he just gave in to desire he wasn't even aware he could feel, a rekindled fantasy from a long-forgotten memory. All alone, with a half disassembled robot he'd known for half of his life up to this point as his stepmother, kissing her with a passion that grew with intensity.

Lee stopped, breaking the kiss off reluctantly, and said softly, “I'm going to disassemble you, down to your wiring. I'm going to fix what's broken in you, get you up and working again, and then I'll...” He trailed off. Thinking it, even acting on it was one thing. But saying what he wanted to do? He couldn't manage it. He kissed Renée again with passion in his lips, but quicker, before stating “I'll figure it out when I get there.”

“Good idea,” Renée said with a chuckle. “I'll wait until you're finished then...Master~”

Lee chuckled. “Heh. It'll take a while for me to get used to that, but I like it already...”

With that, Lee set Renée's head down, and turned back to her body. Walking back to it, he peered inside the now mostly opened framework, and could see he had a lot of work ahead of him. “I'm going to have to replace most, maybe all of your internal electronics, and your frame has some signs of wear and tear.”

“I have every confidence in you,” Renée said with a smile. “If anyone could do it, it would be you.”

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A week on, and Lee stared at the collection of parts in front of him on the work table. They were the over thirty small parts that were required to operate Renée's left knee servo mechanism. His eyes roamed over the collection of metal parts with a look of frustration, tapping his finger against the workbench top. After a few minutes, he picked up a small part. “Okay, I think I can get this to fit if I crimp the edge a little. It shouldn't result in reduced performance, at least not to a noticeable degree.”

Lee turned his head over to look at Renée, who was now propped up a foot or so off the table on a specially fashioned stand. Half of her robotic 'spine' was reassembled, whirring and buzzing on occasion as it flexed a bit like a tail, in response to some errant movement from the reassembled neck mechanisms her head was now affixed to. Cables now ran up underneath her head to a dedicated power pack, though the computer he brought with him was still connected to her systems. No synthetic dermis meant that the wiring and internal parts were all exposed, creating a chorus of clicks and whirs whenever Renée turned her head, as she did to look over at Lee to meet his gaze with a smile.

“It's alright, sweetie, I'm sure it will be fine. If you want, you can shut me off, I'm sure it'd be easier to work on me without my commentary running throughout.”

Lee shook his head and looked back at the components, working on reassembling them. “That's not the problem, if anything it's keeping me from going crazy.” He dropped his hand against the table, letting out a sigh. “I swear, half of these parts look totally identical to older ones, the fittings are different from the pictures, and I think half of the sellers I sourced from have the wrong parts listed. There's parts available for common trouble components, but I don't think anyone really anticipated that someone would want to rebuild a CCU 3000 from scratch.”

Renée sighed. “You poor thing. I can continue checking part listings if you want, that way I can--” But she was quickly cut off by Lee's dismissively waving hand.

“Even that wouldn't be an issue, but the fact is, I can't stay here much longer. I'm supposed to be back to work in four days, and the flight from here to Junkoushima takes at least a day and a half if I take a flight with the minimum of stopovers.” He looked over at Renée with a forlorn look. “I'm sorry, but even with all the repairs I've done, I'd still need at least three more weeks to work on you, and even then, that's a best-case scenario.”

Renée frowned. “I'm beginning to see the problem. Perhaps you can leave me down here like this? I can wait, don't worry. Time flies when you're offline, as I like to say.” Her smile returned, but Lee just shook his head again.

“No, if I did that, I'd be leaving you here alone for months, maybe years. Someone would notice you were gone eventually, and check up on you, and then find you disassembled down here and...well, who knows what might happen after that?”

Renée sighed. “Oh, you poor thing, this really does have you all upset. Well, perhaps there's another solution? Maybe I can be uploaded to a new body?”

“Too risky,” Lee stated. “And I don't have the money for that now, anyway. I'd have to make sure your software could be compatible and run smoothly on the new hardware. Even if I made a data backup of you, there's no way to tell how much of you would carry over. And finding a replacement CCU 3000 processor set up is going to be even more of a pain in the--” Lee paused as he heard a faint tone from upstairs. A ringing, an electronic chime that wasn't the phone in his pants pocket. He attempted to recall what that was, when Renée interjected with a smile.

“That's the doorbell, sweetie. I had a new one installed while you were at college. Maybe it's one of the parts delivery people?” Renée gave Lee a warm smile. “Go on, go check. I'll wait for you to get back.”

“Well, just in case, I should probably shut you down for now. You're basically mounted to a crimped and filed-down collection of parts, so I want to be here just in case something goes wrong.” Lee stood up and walked over to Renée, giving her a quick smile as he pressed her power toggle switch. She looked ready to respond when the color in her eyes winked out and with a soft whir and a plastic click, her eyes shut and her head lowered slightly.

Giving Renée a quick smile, Lee stood and went upstairs, his smile fading as he rubbed his face quickly with his hands before ascending the steps. The full weight of the tedium of the project hit him suddenly, and while it wasn't quite a wall, it felt a bit stronger than a slap on the face. He felt a pain in the back of his neck that he started rubbing at with one hand when he reached out and opened the door with the other. He squinted a little at the harsh light of day coming through the door, and lowered both hands to his side, only for his eyes to widen when they adjusted to the light.

Standing before him was a woman, dressed in a thick but fashionable black coat, her waist and legs covered in black faux leather pants and her feet in matching high-heeled boots. It took him a few seconds to piece together that the woman standing before him, with her bleached bob haircut and her artificial red eyes was Yamata Chise, whose eyebrow quickly rose as her hands went to her hips.

“Wow, dude, you look like you haven't slept since we last talked.” Chise then gestured with one hand towards the open door Lee stood behind. With a tired, stunned blink, he automatically stepped aside to let her in, his brain on autopilot from the mental fatigue. But as she passed, he began to speak.

“What are you doing here? How—when did you even get here?” Lee closed the door behind them and flicked a switch near the door, turning on a light that lit up the entrance way and partly lit most of the hall, the open living room and the basement stairway. Chise took a look around the place before turning to look at Lee.

“Oh, I just got here about an hour ago. Colorado, I mean. Nice place, actually. Not as cold as I was expecting, either.” She said this as she took her coat off and folded it under an arm. Underneath, she wore a tight red sleeveless halter top, with an open back that allowed Lee to get a good look at her bare back, the outlines of dorsal panels made quite visible.

“And you didn't think to call me ahead of time? Let me know you're coming? I mean, I'm glad you're here, I could use some help and...well, I guess company, but I am kind of confused as to why you just show up out of the blue.” Lee walked over and extended a hand. “I'll take your coat, if you want.”

“Thanks,” Chise said with a smile, before handing over the coat. Lee then gently set it down on an empty, unused seat, before looking back at Chise. “As for why I'm here, well, I've learned some pretty interesting facts about DomesTech, CCU 3000's and...” She flashed Lee a smirk as she sat down on the couch to take off her boots. “Myself.”

“Yourself?” Lee closed and locked the front door, head cocked slightly to one side as his arms crossed under his chest. “You aren't about to tell me you're a long lost sister or something like that.”

Chise suddenly laughed and shook her head. “Oh, God, no, that would be weird.” As her laughter died down, she placed her hands on her pleather-clad knees, the smirk returning to her lips. “But me and Renée are distantly related. In a way, at least.”

“Distantly rela--” Lee cut himself off with a slight groan as a hand went up to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You're gonna' have to cut down on the theatrics, I've just got done with reassembling Renée's neck servos out of two dozen mismatched parts I had to shape down to fit.”

Chise nodded, her smirk softening somewhat. “Well, funny enough, that's actually what this is all about. I did some digging, and found out that DomesTech was once its own company, but got bought out a while back by an American corporation, Dayton Heuristic Solutions? Dayton is a subsidiary company of the Japanese tech company Yosuke Heavy Industries. They own the patents and copyright for all of DomesTech's old product lineup, including the CCU 3000 series, and in turn, so does Yosuke.” Chise raised a finger, and bounced it back and forth as she spoke about the relationship between the corporations. Lee, following the finger, furrowed his brow.

“So, what does this mean? You're saying that I contact Yosuke or Dayton for spare parts? You could have told me that over voice chat.”

“Sure, you probably could. But, see, the thing is, before they acquired DomesTech, they didn't really have the robotics tech to make sapient humanoid robots. Getting all of their tech patents and design copyrights let them do that. Yosuke then goes on to make their own line of androids based off of the tech including the YK-6740 Home-care/Companion Simulant.” Chise's smirk then widened. “I'm a YK-6740.”

“So what do you mean by...You mean to say that your model's components might be compatible with Renée's software, right?” Lee smiled for a moment, but then the smile faded. “But, that doesn't really do me much good. I'd need to order a bunch of spare parts, and they wouldn't get here on time. And even if I--”

“Lee,” Chise rose up from her seat on the couch, walking the short distance over to where Lee stood, smiling as she looked him in the eye. “You've got a whole functioning YT-6740 right here. All the parts you need. And kept in great condition, I might add.” Chise's expression was playful as she watched Lee mentally put everything together. But the human shook his head.

“That's...generous, but I couldn't possibly inconvenience you like that.” Chise, like all legally registered androids, had data back ups and spare bodies as part of a government mandate for such eventualities. But Lee knew that unless Chise had the top level backup options, she could be waiting for weeks to get restored to a new physical body, stored as data in some backup server. But Chise's response was to dismissively shake her head.

“It's no big deal, really. I've got top-level care options. My parents are loaded, one of them is the head of a Yosuke R&D division. I've got the hookup, no worries.” And with that, Chise suddenly reached down and pulled off her halter top, throwing it aside to join her jacket on the chair and revealing that she wore no bra underneath. Lee's eyes went wide, and while he didn't dissuade her, he did attempt to avert his eyes from her bare chest.

“Uh, well...In that case, we should probably head down to the basement.” Pausing as he watched Chise continue to strip, pushing her tight pants down her hips and thighs, revealing a further lack of undergarments, and the pants soon joined the rest of the clothes. Chise's pale body, with the faint seam and panel lines all throughout, was totally exposed. Lee cleared his throat when she was done. “Um. Thank you. Seriously, for all your help. I owe you.”

Chise shook her head. “It's no big deal. Plus, I get to help a fellow android who's down on her luck, that's enough of a bonus for me.” She chuckled as she added “just be sure to ship my clothes back to me. I'll text you an address when I get restored. That's my favorite outfit and they stopped making that halter top a few months ago.” Chise then stepped past Lee, before stopping at the foot of the stairway down to the basement. Turning to look at Lee, she gestured with a finger towards the basement door. “Down here?”

Lee nodded, and walked over to Chise, then past her and down the steps. Opening the door, he stepped through, and Chise followed. It didn't take long for the two of them to reach the work station, where Chise audibly scoffed.

“Wow, this is some serious hardware for back in the day. Your dad must have been quite the expert in robotics, huh?” She walked over to the currently unoccupied workstation, brushing her hand along its armrest, before turning to look at Lee as he walked over. “Shame this is all so outdated, otherwise I'd love a set-up like this.”

Lee smirked as he walked to where Renée's head was mounted and started gathering his tools. “I didn't know androids had a sense of nostalgia, at least outside of personal experience.” Taking a few of the tools he'd used to disassemble Renée, he set them near the workstation on the small cart. Chise, meanwhile, walked over to Renée's deactivated head.

“I like to think I was programmed with an appreciation of classical robotics repair tools.” She chuckled as she leaned down, getting a detailed look. “Wow, she's cute. Very warm and caring face, even when she's powered off. Guess this is what most humans think of when they think of an ideal parent, eh?”

Lee looked up from arranging his work tools, looking over to Chise. “Your mom isn't like that?”

“Moms,” Chise corrected with a smile. “And I guess not really. One's a human, her name is Eriko, the one working for Yosuke. She's thin, got a few wrinkles, likes her ponytails. My other mom, Azusa is a pleasure model android working as a fashion model for fetish clothes. Skin tight bodysuits and stuff.” She looked over her shoulder at Lee, whom she noticed did seem to be paying quite a lot of attention to the shape of her rear. “They met at a company party when Eriko repaired a fault in Azusa's arm. It's quite cute, actually.” Chise stood up again and turned, looking over at Lee as she heard him approach.

“Okay,” Lee began. “Just show me where your power toggle is, and after that I can disassemble you.” Lee expected to be shown where said toggle was, but Chise instead shook her head.

“Nope.” The rejection was a surprise to Lee. “One quirk I forgot to mention. If I'm just disassembled, you'd have to get in contact with my repair company and they'd probably ask what happened. Technically, this sort of thing is illegal, since it's sort of a free parts exploit. Companies don't want to get undercut by clients taking themselves apart or getting taken apart for free spare parts, y'know? So,” Chise reached behind her head as she spoke, fiddling with something unseen on the back of her cranium. “I need to experience a central processor fault.”

“Wait, you want me to...” Lee trailed off as he tried to find the words. “What, break your processors?”

“Yeeep,” Chise said with a smile. “You gotta'--” A soft click cut off her words, her expression blanking out as the back of her head opened outwards, similar to the way that Renée's had. “Central Processor Access Panel Open,” Chise said, devoid of her colorful personality. “Caution: Do Not Access Central Processor If Untrained In Central Processor Repair. Risk Of Damage Is High.” Chise blinked twice, and then sighed. “Sorry. Anyway, yeah, you gotta' bust my central processors. That way, it gets logged as an accident, no questions asked.”

Lee sighed and shook his head. “Next time you ask me to do something illegal, give me a head's up first, okay?” Chise chuckled, and when she noticed his somewhat confused expression, she elaborated.

“Head's up? You totally did that by accident, didn't you?” Chise grinned, then as Lee shook his head, walked over to the work station. Rather than lay on her back, Chise straddled the chair, leaning forward to press her breasts against the cushioned backrest and keeping her head forward, chin resting near the top of the chair. As Lee walked over to where she sat, he peered inside of Chise's head.

Much like other androids, Chise's processors were separated into different components, each one responsible for different systems, rising up from their tightly-packed positions in Chise's head. Unlike Renée's processors though, Chise's core processors consisted of two plastic blocks and less of the wafer-thin crystalline circuit boards. The memory drives were still relatively similar. Outwardly it hadn't advanced much, but Lee knew that an android of Chise's generation could hold much more memory than a CCU 3000, and even had secondary functions like storing other forms of data as a kind of data vault for their owners. It was a practice that was rarely done, but it spoke volumes of the changes in memory storage in only a few decades.

“Alright, Lee, whenever you're ready.” Chise let out a huff, a pink tint appearing on her cheeks as Lee put on a pair of shock-resistant gloves and, feeling some hesitation, reached in slowly. “You know, I have to say, if you told me that today I'd be having my processors ripped out, I'd have thought-thought-thought-thought-thought--”

Lee looked down briefly at the circuit board that contained part of Chise's AI data, the wire leads to her head and attached systems now sparked briefly before fizzling out. Lee tossed the board aside, aiming towards the work bench as he found himself suddenly invigorated. Lee was so used to repairing androids, so drilled into it by the tenants and teachings of his chosen profession that he had never considered what it would be like to damage one. And as he ripped out a second board, listening to Chise's words blend into a mindless babble, he found that the excitement he was feeling was more than just from some inscrutable thrill. Instead, he found himself growing aroused from this, his member stiffening in his pants as he ripped out a third board, giving Chise barely enough time to react with electronic gibberish.

“T-Told-told-told me-me-me-me-aaahhhhnnnnhh—my pro-proce-my pro-proce-ce—illegal-illegal y-you know-know-know-know-know-know--” Chise's optical sensors were immobile in her head, set up in such a way that they saw everything in a wide-angle picture display. But they nevertheless focused in and out at random as her HUD became a blurred mess, her higher awareness shattering like glass from each board pried free, cerulean sparks snapping from frayed neural network wiring.

Finally, the last board was pried free, the attempts at a neat pile now resulting in the android's processor components getting scattered about nearly at random. He briefly considered dropping his pants and fucking her while she did it, but Lee managed to keep that level of control. His gloved hands now fell on the memory drive, which was firmly placed in Chise's metal cranium.

“Er-Errrroorrr Thi-This-This YK-67-Four-For-For-Forty-ty Has Experienced A Crit-Critical System Fault-Fault Please--” With a bit of effort, and a creak of light alloys, Lee yanked the memory drives out of Chise's head. And to his surprise, a number of components came with it, including the optical processing system just ahead of it. A camera-like component dangled loosely from it, connected by a bundle of thin wires leading back to it, and Lee at once realized that he had pulled out one of Chise's optics along with all the other components, clinking and clattering together as Lee thoughtlessly threw the now useless machinery aside.

“Seeeeuuurrrrrrviiiiiiiicceeeeeee--” Chise's voice sputtered out into an electronic crackle as blue smoke rose from her core processor systems. Lee reached in, grasped the hot component quickly, and gave it a firm yank to rip it completely free. From there, he stepped back, then rolled Chise over onto her back, where he saw the undeniable expression of pleasure on her frozen face. Her nipples were still stiff with arousal, and between her spread legs, Lee could see the android's folds were moist. It was good to know that the feeling was mutual, even if she was malfunctioning the entire time.

Picking up his tools, Lee got to work. First, disconnecting Chise's head, it was placed aside as it wasn't useful for his purposes. Next, he got to work removing her dermal plating. Torso first, then extremities, each section of her tightly-fitted dermal cover plates were removed. Eventually, Chise's well-kept endoskeleton was revealed to him, along with her internal components. Though he trusted Chise at this point, he was surprised to see that she was correct for the most part. Her components were quite similar to Renée's, with only a few looking entirely different and only a few additions made. Seems most of the innovation was in her processor systems, quite the high praise for DomesTech's engineering capabilities that so much of it had been left virtually unmodified.

Lee started the disassembly by removing the many lengths of wiring and cabling that snaked through Chise's framework. Disconnecting wire bundles here and there led to him removing their attached components, mostly sub-processors for Chise's motor functions and sensor networks. Then, when that was done, he extracted her power core. It took a few hours, but the tantalizing prospect of almost meeting his goals, combined with this newfound contextual arousal of not only disassembling an android for spare parts, one that he had conversed with just a few hours prior, but knowing that these components would be used to rebuild a woman he had an entirely new view of was enough to spur him on even in the face of sleep. And yet, despite the lingering fatigue, the heavy sensation behind his eyes that caused them to flutter, Lee continued taking Chise apart until, finally, he had removed the flexible metal 'spine' that contained packed neural network wiring. All of it would be needed.

What parts he didn't need—the dermal plating, the basic components of Chise's endoskeleton, her head—were deposited into a box that had, a few days prior, been shipped to him containing mismatched parts for a CCU 3000. Now, he kept them in storage as spare parts, should the need arise.

But when he finished, and Chise was reduced to little more than a pile of bundled wiring, semi-concealed subprocessor circuitry and power components, Lee felt the weight of his fatigue crash down on him. With a yawn, he rose from his seat next to the workstation and made his way upstairs, for yet another night on the couch. He was growing rather used to sleeping on it.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Renée Colins reactivated, and as her awareness returned to her, she felt something she hadn't felt in a long time. Even though she hadn't moved an inch yet, there was the feeling, tied to feedback data from self-diagnostics and scans initiated before her boot-up sequence, that her limbs had returned to her. Not only that, but the whole of her body was reporting levels of functionality that exceeded her baseline system performance ratings. Was this some sort of error?

As her vision began returning to her, icons in her HUD appearing first, followed by status readouts reaffirming what she already knew, Renée's vision returned to her in full. And standing above her, in the light of the work station's overhead lamps, she saw the smiling face of her so—no, master and owner. She returned the smile, and watched as his hands holding tools slipped down towards her chest which, as Renée's eyes followed his hands downwards, she could see was open. Sparks started to snap from some component she could not see, and she could hear with fresh fidelity the crackle of electricity. Also, she could hear the sound of Lee's voice as he idly explained the situation to her.

“There,” he said with a smile. “The finishing touches to your new power core.” The pleasurable sensations continued, as Lee unhesitatingly placed his hands on her breasts and pressed into them to shut her chest paneling, pulling away all tools and looking Renée in the eyes. “That should be everything. What's your system diagnostic have to say?”

Renée's eyes flashed once in electronic light as the self-diagnostic began, dutifully following her owner's orders. Turning her head with a robotic, stiff movement to the left, Renée spoke in an emotionless tone, staring without a sapient thought towards a corner of the room. “System Readout Indicates All Systems Are Green. System Readouts Also Indicate That Current System Functionality Exceeds Baseline Standards. This Is Likely Due To Unregistered Modifications Or Upgrades That May Impact Your DomesTech Product Warranty. Motor Functions, Temperature Management Functions, Power Systems, Sensor Packages And All Artificial Intelligence Systems Are Operating At...An Overall Efficiency Of 198%.” When it was over Renée blinked once, then smiled as she turned her head back to look at Lee. “I guess I won't have to worry about system upgrades for the near future, will I?”

Lee, feeling suddenly overwhelmed, stood up and quickly wrapped his arms around Renée's body, pushing his face into her shoulder and letting out a happy sigh. “Oh, it's so good to have you back. I didn't say anything, but I got worried at a few points.”

“Awww, honey, it's okay. I'm here, I'm functional, and I'm not going anywhere soon. You saw to that, Lee. Your father would be proud of you. He'd be so thrilled to know that he helped raise such a skilled engineer.” Renée's words caused Lee's head to rise from the warm synthetic skin of her shoulder, and both shared a smile. Lee stood back, and took another glance down at Renée's body, before extending a hand to her. With unerring smoothness of motion, she reached out and placed her palm in his, rising up from the workbench and standing without issue on her own two feet. She then took a moment to look up at the roboticist, who stood tall over her own five feet and three inches.

“So, now that you have me working again, I take it you're going to be heading out soon?” The android's smile that soon followed was genuine, as Lee took a step closer to her. “Head back to Japan, continue to do the amazing work you do for...What was it? Yamasaki?” She chuckled shortly, but the sight of Lee's expression made her take pause. He was looking down at her with a different kind of warmth in his eyes, a different sort of smile. Lee's face was that of a lover, not a son.

“Renée, “ Lee began, reaching out and placing his hands at the top curve of the android's wide, shapely hips. “Did you mean that, what you said when we kissed?” His thumbs pressed and rubbed into the smooth, naked synthetic skin. “That you see me in a different way, now?”

Renée at first didn't answer, and Lee briefly wondered if some small change had occurred in her programming that caused her to feel differently about that day. But then, wordlessly, she answered. She brought her arms up around Lee's shoulders, draping them around his neck as her body rose up, pressing her breasts into his chest as Lee instinctively tightened his grip on the plush synthetic skin. Renée's lips met Lee's, and quickly, the kiss deepened. Lee leaned into Renée, who leaned back into the work station, a hand falling from Lee's shoulders to take hold of the firm but smooth padding of the work station behind her. Their tongues met in their mouths, tips flicking about, touching the roofs of their mouths only to meet again in a sensual, sinuous dance.

Lee pushed on Renée's hips, causing her to move as he did, a side step away from the workbench and towards the stairway to the basement. His coat left upstairs, both Lee and Renée took breaks between kisses to work off a button from the white button-up shirt Lee still had tucked into his slate-gray trousers. They maneuvered carefully, stopping and starting to kiss and unbutton or uncuff the shirt, before finally, at the foot of the stairs, Lee's shirt was discarded. Two steps up, and the undershirt covering his lightly muscled body was pulled up and over his head, his hands briefly hitting the wall behind him. As Lee's arms fell again, the topless roboticist reached out and firmly cupped Renée's breasts, before giving the heavy sensor-packed mounds a firm grope. He did this twice as they ascended up the landing. Renée stumbled, Lee caught her, but the event went unremarked and they soon reached the landing.

As they went up the adjoining staircase, Lee found himself pressed against the wall by the shorter android, who gave him a deep kiss before pulling her head away from his lips, staring at him with deep blue eyes, before reaching down and unbuckling his pants. The taboo nature of it all, the revelation of her true nature, it was all making Lee slip into a lusty haze, drunk with pleasure, so that he could only stare and watch as Renée, unimpeded and uninterrupted, quickly loosed Lee's belt. Thrown away, the belt buckle clattering near the front door, his pants came down around his legs, bunched at his ankles, and were soon joined by his boxer briefs. His erection made Renée's optics whir as they widened, and she placed a hand on Lee's hips as she bent down to her knees, and began to pleasure him right there and then with his mouth.

It felt incredible. Renée's tongue gave the same attention to his shaft as it did his mouth, flicking and curling around and against his now rock-hard member, Lee nearly autonomously bucking his hips against her face, driving the shaft deep into Renée's mouth and throat. His hand went to the top of her brunette head, sliding through the strands, before he placed pressure on it and pulled her head back. Renée briefly wondered for the second or two of inactivity if Lee had been displeased, but soon found herself being pulled up to her feet by the taller human, who looked her briefly in the eyes before kneeling down himself.

Lee pushed his fingers between Renée's folds, spreading them as he leaned in and danced his tongue over her pink inner walls for a few moments, only to pull back the hood of her clit and begin sucking, teasing and licking at the sensitive plastic nub. She moaned, arching her back and thrusting her heavy chest out, eyes fluttering as her hands pressed against the wall. Lee rolled his shoulders as his tongue pleased the android, before eventually, his head rose, followed by his body, and the ascent resumed.

They had made it up to the second-to-last step when Lee gave in to an overwhelming urge he had been feeling since he first began to head upstairs. Turning Renée to face him, he slid his arms up, past the swells of her breasts and up under her arms, and pressed into three specific spots under each arm. Having reassembled the android, he knew how to take her apart. Renée gasped softly as her arms went limp at her sides, the locks that held them in place and kept the servo mechanisms aligned was now disconnected completely. Lee had disconnected the arms as they were designed to be, but nevertheless, added an aggressive tug as each arm was pulled free, causing Renée to jump slightly and gasp pleasurably. Her left arm was still rolling down the stairs when Lee, feeling the same raw lust he had when he had pulled out Chise's processors, shoved Renée back.

With a thump, Renée landed on her back, breasts bouncing as Lee fell on her. She cried out in pleasure as he swiftly aligned his hardened member against the wet lips of her sex and gave a powerful thrust. Servo motors whirring, Renée moaned loudly again, calling out Lee's name as he gripped the very base of her shoulders that remained and began thrusting. With each powerful movement, Renée was pushed across the landing. Only by an inch or two, but enough that they were moving towards the door to the upstairs bedroom. But Lee was too taken to do anything in that bed. They would make love on the floor. It's what he wanted, what he wanted with Renée. That and a million other things he knew he couldn't act on all at once.

Renée's stared up at Lee, their expressions taken by lust, as their warm skin met time and again, the contrasting hard metals and wire bundles that jut from the empty shoulder sockets of her arms clicking and whirring openly, in defiance of years of hard-coded programming that enforced the lie that she was anything other than a machine. Both moaning, both crying out in pleasure, Lee felt his climax coming, but even as he pushed harder into Renée, deeper into her tight, wet artificial womanhood, he withdrew suddenly from her hot body, and suddenly rolled Renée onto her front.

She was barely able to question what had happened, her systems perfectly simulating the deep arousal of a human woman by having the question be delivered as a confused-sounding gasp, when she felt her legs spread and Lee entering her once again, sliding between her wet lips from behind and thrusting harder, faster than before. Feeling his body shudder, his mind cloud, he reached out and driven by raw desire, pried open a service panel on Renée's back. The android became immediately cognizant of what was happening, but as she looked over her shoulder, she gave a smile of approval under half-lidded eyes and flushed red cheeks.

Without hesitating, Lee reached down and grabbed a black power cable running up along the simulated 'spine' that was now exposed thanks to the missing synthskin panel, and gave it a hard yank. The wire, rather than tear or break, merely disconnected, but even this was enough to produce a sharp pop and a snap of electricity.

Renée's cry of orgasmic pleasure looped wildly and electronically at its height, the final thing to push Lee over the edge as he exploded inside of her, cumming hard into Renée's mechanical sex as he felt all of a tense week's strain flow out of him in a figurative way, a mental release to match the physical. His back arched, he let out long, heavy gasps of breath, a light coating of sweat on his lean form, as he lowered himself against the back of his still-malfunctioning lover, her orgasmic cries looping at their height repeatedly and without end. As casually as one shut down any other appliance, Lee reached for the hidden power toggle in Renée's neck, pressed and held. The moan trailed off as the android shut down.

What would have been severe damage to her earlier frame was now just a minor inconvenience. He plugged it back in, but in a sense, preferred having Renée as an inert machine again, just this once.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two Weeks Later...

Lee Collins stepped off of the train platform at Junkoushima Central Line on his way back from work at the city's central business district, where Yamaguchi Robotics Corporation's headquarters resided. It was an unseasonably warm day, despite the fall rain, and he made sure to pop open his umbrella before leaving the station.

The walk home was interrupted only by the occasional stop at a crosswalk, joining a throng of umbrellas and raincoats that rivaled the foot traffic of the other great Japanese cities. Humans and androids alike coming home as the darkened sky grew darker still in the fading sunlight of the late afternoon. He briefly stopped near a bus stop to check his phone, feeling it vibrate from an earlier message.

From: RedWhiteUsagi

Last night was fantastic! Haven't had this much fun with a human in 4ever. Msg me when you got a sec so we can plan another night of mischief. ~ . ^

He smiled, pocketed the phone, and walked the short distance away back home to his apartment. Up the elevator to the eleventh floor, he walked down softly lit hallway to his familiar door, unlocked it, and stepped inside.

Immediately, he was greeted by a delicious smell. Shutting and locking the door behind him, taking a moment only to check the plastic bag he held in his other hand, he took his shoes off and stepped into the kitchen, setting the plastic bag down on the counter. As he did, he watched with a smile as a curvaceous woman in a purple camisole, blue skirt and white shirt turned to face him, who then returned a warm and gentle smile.

“Welcome home, honey,” Renée said with a bright smile. Lee walked over and gave her a quick hug, before looking at all the new kitchen equipment that was working to make a meal.

“You got half of your new appliances out, Renée. Any guests coming over I ought to know about?” Lee playfully smiled as they broke the hug, and Renée shook her head, maintaining her smile.

“Just checking on my comparability with the new kitchen equipment. I've still got a bunch of money left over from the home sale, I admit it's a bit overwhelming. Androids like me were never really programmed or taught how to manage money effectively, but I like to think I'm keeping my budget reasonable.” Noticing the bag, Renée tilted her head. “I see I'm not the only one doing some shopping. What is that?”

His smile widening, Lee reached into the bag and pulled out a box. Proudly featuring the Yosuke Heavy Industries logo and smiling construction worker mascot, Renée knew what it was almost before Lee said it. “Took me a bit of searching, but I managed to find a processor assembly for a Yosuke YK-5460 android new and in package down at a Super Potato near Chise's house. We should have you up to near-modern spec and your AI fully compatible with new AI backup and restoration tech. No more expensive specialty backup plans.”

Renée gasped with delight and gave Lee another hug. “Oh, you're wonderful, Lee.” She then followed it up with a kiss, one which unexpectedly for either of them, began to deepen. Just as Renée began to loop her arms around Lee's arms, a sharp beep interrupted them. “Oh, dammit, that's probably the bread.” Renée turned and headed for a dough mixer as Lee chuckled and shook his head.

“Renée,” Lee said with mock surprise. “Did you just swear?” She returned the playful accusation with a soft chuckle and shook her head.

“Must have been picking up some habits from those office ladies I hang out with down the hall. Reiko was just telling me the other day that...”

And as Renée began to tell his story, Lee walked to the living room and sat down at the dinner table. It wasn't quite the way he had envisioned living, and it certainly wasn't the typical kind of relationship. But as Lee listened to his surrogate mother turned android lover happily go on about her day, functioning in a testament to the skills his father inspired him to learn, he was sure he wouldn't have it any other way.

File:Tumblr lvct03ZKSB1qg6j4ao1 500.gif

2019-10-02T00:22:27Z

Saya:

From the film ''Robogeisha'' (2009)

{{animated}}

File:Copernicus Jones - Robot Detective issue 04 15.jpg

2019-10-02T00:16:18Z

Saya:

Panel from ''Copernicus Jones: Robot Detective'', issue 4

File:Ninja Masters kunoichi.jpg

2019-10-02T00:13:23Z

Saya:

Promotional artwork for the character "Kunoichi" from the video game ''The Ninja Warriors Again''.

File:1247671397602.jpg

2019-10-02T00:12:39Z

Saya:

Screengrab from ''Chobits''

File:Sexy-comic-ar.gif

2019-10-02T00:11:29Z

Saya:

Cover to the first issue of the sci-fi anthology magazine ''Heavy Metal''.

Motoko Kusanagi

2019-09-27T07:44:48Z

Saya:

{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" align="right"
|-
! style="background:#EE82EE;" | <big>Motoko Kusanagi</big>
|-
| align="center" width="350px" | [[Image:Ghost in the shell-019.jpg|350px]]
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" width=350px style="font-size:90%"
|-valign="top"
|'''Media'''
|[[Ghost in the Shell]]
|-valign="top"
|'''Rank'''
|Major
|-valign="top"
|'''Affiliation'''
|Public Security Section 9, [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japan_Self-Defense_Forces Japan Self-Defense Forces] (formerly), United Nations Peacekeeper (formerly)
|-valign="top"
|'''Other names'''
|"The Major", "Chroma" (online handle), "Fire Starter" (hacker alias)
|-valign="top"
|'''Date of Birth'''
|unknown
|-valign="top"
|'''Classification'''
|[[Cyborg]] (Full Body Prosthesis)
|-valign="top"
|'''Functional status'''
| Data Entity Merged with Project 2501 (''Ghost in the Shell'' manga and 1995 anime, ''Ghost In The Shell 2 Man/Machine Interface'', ''Innocence''), Alive (''Stand Alone Complex'', ''Arise'', ''Ghost in the Shell'' live-action adaptation)
|}
|}

==Overview==

'''Motoko Kusanagi''', AKA '''The Major''' is the central protagonist of the ''Ghost in the Shell'' manga and it's animated adaptations. A full-body combat-rated cyborg, she is employed by Public Security Section 9 as their tactical operations leader, a governmental agency operating under a post-World War III and IV Japan's Ministry of Internal Affairs. Although many details about her personality, origins and motivations change from series-to-series, some constant and consistent elements of her character are that she is a skilled combatant, expert marksman, a near-peerless hacker and that she has a close working relationship with her partner, Batou.

==Background==
Across all adaptations, Motoko has been shown to have a mysterious past. Although she is frequently called "The Major" in many adaptations, nobody is sure if this is her real rank, and her wartime records are inaccessible. Towards the end of ''Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex'''s second season, she hints that "Motoko Kusanagi" might not even be her real name, and that if it isn't, even she can't recall what her real name was. However, some adaptations do provide windows into her backstory.

In ''Stand Alone Complex'''s second season, it is revealed that she was the sole survivor of a plane crash when she was a young girl, and her brain was placed in a cybernetic body at a young age. This caused her to feel ostracized and apart from humanity at large, and she struggled with adjusting to her new body, only learning to adapt through her kinship with fellow crash survivor and full body cyborg, Hideo Kuze. ''Ghost in the Shell: Arise'' establishes an even earlier time for her cyberization, having been transferred to a cybernetic body not long after she was born after her parents were killed in a terrorist chemical weapon attack. ''Arise'' also goes into greater detail in regards to her military background, showing her as an active duty member of the Japan Self-Defense Forces at the start of the series and establishes that Major is her actual rank in the JSDF. The live action adaptation establishes that she was a teenager who was captured and experimented on by Hanka Robotics, with her brain placed in a cybernetic body.

==Portrayal in Media==

===''Ghost In The Shell'' manga series===
In the ''Ghost in the Shell'' manga adaptations, we are introduced to Motoko and Section 9 as they investigate and pursue a mysterious hacker called the Puppeteer, so named for their ability to hack the cyberbrains of their victims and using them to commit various crimes by proxy. Over the course of the series, it is revealed that the Puppeteer is in fact an advanced artificial intelligence created by another unit of the Japanese government, which has since gone rogue and is inhabiting various robotic bodies. When the last of the Puppeteer's bodies is cornered and destroyed, Motoko believes the matter is closed, until she hears the Puppeteer's voice in her head and realizes she has become the latest host body. When the Puppeteer explains that it wishes to continue its own evolution, and that it wishes to merge with Motoko's ghost to do so, she agrees. The unified entity then quits Section 9, leaving her team behind. In ''Man/Machine Interface'', it is revealed that Motoko, now calling herself "Motoko Aramaki" has become the head of security for a private corporation, and has split her consciousness into several host bodies that she can control at will. Through these proxies, she is able to fight assassins, corporate spies and solve cyber crimes on her own accord. Later, we learn that as many as twenty different copies of the Motoko/Puppeteer entity may exist, and that the "prime" Motoko is known as "Motoko 11".

Motoko's personality in the manga is strikingly different compared to later adaptations. In the field, she is focused, serious and a skilled combatant and tactician. But off-duty and back at her headquarters, Motoko acts far less seriously and has a carefree and childish personality. She openly mocks her boss, Chief Aramaki, calling him "Ape Face", as well as her fellow squad members. She's also far more expressive and emotional than in other adaptations, grinning and flashing the 'V' for Victory sign on a regular basis. Motoko is bisexual and sexually active, having had a seven-month long relationship with her boyfriend, an agent from Section 1, while also engaging in lucrative but illegal lesbian "E-sex", which can only be safely done with same-sex partners. Following her merging with the Puppetmaster, Motoko takes on a much more serious personality, becoming more objective focused. Despite this, hints of her sexuality can be seen here and there, such as choosing to have her small robotic assistants "wear" robotic suits modeled after beautiful, scantily clad women.

===''Ghost In The Shell'' 1995 film and ''Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence''===
The 1995 ''Ghost in the Shell'' film is a condensed adaptation of the manga series, with some notable thematic differences, with a focus on the Puppeteer, in this adaptation called "The Puppet Master". The overall style of the film is more serious than that of the manga, and Motoko's portrayal in the film reflects this. Unlike her flippant and openly combative manga counterpart, Motoko in the anime adaptation is a far more taciturn and introspective person on and off the field. Her colder personality is reflected in her more inhuman portrayal, as she rarely shows emotion and never blinks. Despite this, she is shown to be intelligent and introspective, stating her feelings of alienation and disconnect as a full body cyborg from humanity at large, and openly wonders if she is or ever was human. This drives her motivation to find the Puppet Master, after it is revealed that like Motoko, as it too ponders the nature of its own existence and seeks to find answers for its existential questions. Few insights are given to her personal life, with the only window into her off-the-job activities being her hobby of SCUBA diving. She's a consummate professional, never once mocks the other members of Section 9 beyond questioning and the occasional sardonic remark, but is shown to take risks and eventually disobeys orders as her pursuit of the Puppet Master becomes a more personal matter.

A major divergence in the plot of the film as opposed to the manga is that the Puppet Master is revealed to be a rogue information control AI called Project 2501 developed by Section 9's rival, Section 6. Seeking to cover up the nature of their involvement, they attempt to destroy the AI, but are stopped by Motoko and Batou. Motoko, badly damaged after an encounter with a "spider tank", agrees to become a "newborn", a being which can self-propagate on the Net, before seemingly killed when she is decapitated by a Section 6 sniper's bullet. It is then revealed that she survived, having merged with the Puppet Master. Provided a body by Batou, she says her final goodbyes to him, then leaves to find answers and evolve as a new being on the Net.

In ''Innocence'', set three years after the events of the first film, Batou searches for Motoko while simultaneously investigating a robotics company after several of their androids go berserk and attack their customers. As he discovers that the cases are connected to the gynoid production company, Locus Solus, and a human trafficking ring, Batou finds himself being aided by the now fully digitized Motoko/2501 entity. Towards the climax of the film, when Batou infiltrates a Locus Solus factory ship to rescue children used for "ghost dubbing" to make the company's gynoids. Motoko downloads herself into one of the gynoids, showing that she has largely retained her personality and combat skills, while also gaining the Puppet Master's hacking abilities. In the end, after the conspiracy is thwarted, Motoko departs to return to the Net, but not before reassuring Batou that she will always be with him whenever he dives into the Net.

 
==Images of Motoko Kusanagi==
{{Vidcap}}
<gallery>
45812030 p0.jpg|The Major in some of her various incarnations. [https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/45812030 (Image by "池上のろし")]
</gallery>

{{Stub}}
[[Category:Fictional fembots]]
[[Category:Motoko Kusanagi]]
[[Category:Ghost in the Shell]]
[[Category:Stubs]]

User:Saya

2019-09-26T18:31:04Z

Saya:

Hello! Welcome to my page! You can say hello to me here and comment on me and my pages and stuff! Mostly I will be uploading pictures that I find on pixiv, but I may contribute some manipulations! But only if I feel brave, because I am no good at it!

Anyway, once again, hello! :3

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[[Category:User page]]
[[Category:Saya]]

Motoko Kusanagi

2019-09-24T04:56:02Z

Saya:

Motoko Kusanagi

2019-09-24T04:22:54Z

Saya:

Motoko Kusanagi

2019-09-24T04:22:41Z

Saya:

Motoko Kusanagi

2019-09-24T01:25:38Z

Saya:

Cutie Honey

2019-09-24T00:12:49Z

Saya:

{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" align="right"
|-
! style="background:#EE82EE;" | <big>Cutie Honey</big>
|-
| align="center" width="100px" height="200px"| [[File:Cutie_Honey_Cover.jpg|350px]]
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" align="center"
|style="background:#EE82EE;"|'''Manga'''
|}
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" width=350px
|-valign="top"
|width="40%"|'''Genre'''
|width="60%"|Magical girl, science fiction
|-valign="top"
|'''Author'''
|[https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Go_Nagai Go Nagai]
|-valign="top"
|'''Original run'''
|1973 - 1974
|-valign="top"
|'''Fembot content'''
|
* To be added
|}
|}

==Overview==
'''''Cutie Honey''''' (also known as '''''Cutey Honey''''') is a Japanese multimedia franchise that began in 1973 as a manga series written by author Go Nagai for the manga publication ''Shonen Jump''. Since then, it has expanded into multiple manga, anime and live action adaptations. Although the adaptations do not generally have a shared plot, they are connected by similar elements, namely Honey Kisaragi, her superheroine alter ego Cutey Honey, and her fight against the nefarious Panther Claw crime organization, led by Panther Zora and her sister, Sister Jill. The series has been retroactively labeled a part of the [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magical_girl "magical girl"] genre, and is considered one of the earlier examples of said genre, despite being primarily marketed for young men.

==Series Synopsis==
In the original ''Cutie Honey'', Honey Kisaragi is a student at a Catholic school, who learns she is an android following the death of her father at the hands of Panther Claw, who are seeking out the Airborne Device in order to satisfy their greed for personal wealth. Following this, she adopts the persona of Cutie Honey, and utilizes the Airborne Device to seek justice for the death of Doctor Kisaragi. She's aided by a kindly man named Danbei Hayame and his two sons, journalist Seiji and his younger brother, Junpei. The anime also follows this storyline.

''New Cutie Honey'', which takes place a century after the events of ''Cutie Honey'' and the original defeat of Panther Claw, sees an older and more mature Honey who has forgotten her powers and the Cutie Honey personality work as a secretary to Mayor Light of Cosplay City. After a violent encounter with a group of bikers, she rediscovers her powers and after defeating them, enlists the mayor's help in fighting a growing crime wave, headed by the self-proclaimed "Lord of Darkness", Dolmeck.

==Fembot Characters==

'''Honey Kisaragi:''' Honey Kisaragi, the protagonist of the series, is an android developed by Doctor Takeshi Hisaragi and modeled after his deceased daughter. She was built with a device that allows her to fabricate objects from the molecules in the air around her, dubbed the "Airborne Device", which is the source of her transformation powers. Using the device, she's also able to transform into a number of alternate personalities, chief among them being the pink-haired, superhumanly strong, curvaceous and beautiful '''Cutie Honey'''. Skilled with her sword, Silver Fleurette, Cutie Honey's other powers include a boomerang called the Honey Boomerang, an energy beam fired from her choker and the "Honey Special", which uses all her energy to unleash a powerful attack.

Honey Kisaragi is shown to have a mechanical endoskeleton and a computerized brain, with an organic outer layer whose default appearance is modeled after the late Doctor Kisaragi's daughter. In her default state, she is a young woman with long, blonde hair. When she transforms, she is shown to be capable of taking on entirely new appearances and is able to change the color of her skin, hair and eyes. Because of the energy required to operate the Airborne Device, she often eats a high calorie diet to maintain herself. In the anime, she is shown to age, as in ''New Cutie Honey'', Honey is looking curvier and more mature, but she ages at a much slower rate than a human.

Honey's personality is kind but mischievous, and she's described as a "class clown" during her school years, with a tendency towards pulling pranks on her teachers. Nevertheless, she has a strong sense of justice, seeking to not only avenge her father's death at the hands of Panther Claw, but to protect those closest to her and the innocents who get caught up in their schemes. She becomes more mature by the events of ''New Cutie Honey'', taking on a more maternal attitude regarding the people she protects.

==Links==
*[https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cutie_Honey '''''Cutie Honey''''' on Wikipedia]

{{Stub}}

[[Category:Fictional fembots]]
[[Category:Anime]]
[[Category:Manga]]
[[Category:Stubs]]

Cutie Honey

2019-09-23T22:22:06Z

Saya:

==Overview==
'''''Cutie Honey''''' (also known as '''''Cutey Honey''''') is a Japanese multimedia franchise that began in 1973 as a manga series written for the manga publication ''Shonen Jump''. Since then, it has expanded into multiple manga, anime and live action adaptations. Although the adaptations do not generally have a shared plot, they are connected by similar elements, namely Honey Kisaragi, her superheroine alter ego Cutey Honey, and her fight against the nefarious Panther Claw crime organization, led by Panther Zora and her sister, Sister Jill. The series has been retroactively labeled a part of the [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magical_girl "magical girl"] genre, and is considered one of the earlier examples of said genre, despite being primarily marketed for young men.

==Series Synopsis==

==Fembot Characters==

''''Honey Kisaragi:''' Honey Kisaragi, the protagonist of the series, is an android developed by Doctor Takeshi Hisaragi and modeled after his deceased daughter. She was built with a device that allows her to fabricate objects from the air around her, dubbed the "Airborne Device", which is the source of her transformation powers. Using the device, she's able to transform into a number of alternate personalities, with the most notable being the pink-haired and sword-wielding '''Cutie Honey'''.

==Related links==

{{Stub}}

[[Category:Fictional fembots]]
[[Category:Anime]]
[[Category:Stubs]]

Master list of ASFR

2019-09-23T21:24:53Z

Saya:

[[Image:MasterListofASFR.png]]

{| style="color:black"; border="1"
|-
| bgcolor="violet" align="center"|
Welcome to FembotWiki's Master List of ASFR. Here, you may view every piece of ASFR related content we have discovered and view a short summary, a link to either an online video or a shopping site where you may purchase said content, and a brief description of any fembot related content and even the timecode of said content. Finally, there are links to each items image gallery.
|}

<big>
*'''[[Master List of ASFR: Movies|Movies]]'''
**This list features all currently discovered mainstream feature length films.
*'''[[Master List of ASFR: Television|Television]]'''
**This list contains all currently discovered television series, miniseries, specials, and commercials.
*'''[[Master List of ASFR: Music Videos|Music Videos]]'''
**This list contains all currently discovered music videos.
*'''[[Master List of ASFR: Animation|Animation]]'''
**This list contains all currently discovered western animation, Asian anime, miscellaneous cartoons, animated films, and hentai.
*'''[[Master List of ASFR: Independent Productions|Independent Productions]]'''
**This list contains all currently discovered short films, trailers, web series, internet sketches, and theatrical productions.
*'''[[Master List of ASFR: Video Games|Video Games]]'''
**This list contains all currently discovered video games.
</big>

[[Category:Features]]

Recharge

2019-09-21T05:43:41Z

Saya:

{| class="wikitable" align="right" style="text-align:center" border="1" style="width:10%"
| [[Image:Cyborg² recharging scene.gif]] Casella Reese recharging in the movie [[Cyborg²]]
|}
A '''recharge''' scene is that which shows an android having her power supply recharged.

This is frequently depicted in older works as a fembot being directly plugged into a power source through an open panel or exposed socket, such as a generator or battery, though more modern works can also feature a fembot connected to or standing in a "cradle" device similar to a cell phone charger. This is frequently used as an android version of sleeping, and is one of a number of means of displaying said character's artificial nature. It can also be used as a set up to show that an android character needs to recharge, and that failure to do so could lead to an android character [[Shut-down|shutting down]].

==In fiction==
*Roberta from [[Not Quite Human 2]]
*G2 from [[Inspector Gadget 2]]
*ID2 from the [[ID2|short film of the same name]]
*Buffybot from [[Buffy the Vampire Slayer]]
*Alisa from [[Tekken Blood Vengeance]]
*Sakura 2 from [[Sakura 2 NiGo]]

==More examples==
<gallery>
Activation_2.jpg
ID_14.jpg
Bargaining_22.jpg
Bargaining_23.jpg
Alisa_71.jpg
Äkta människor recharging scene.png
</gallery>

{{stub}}
{{Reveal}}
[[Category:Terminology]]

Blank stare

2019-09-21T05:37:07Z

Saya:

{| class="wikitable" align="right" style="text-align:center" border="1" style="width:10%"
| [[Image:Upgrade phone disconnect scene.gif]] From the film [[Upgrade (film)|Upgrade]]: The robot Kim attempts to reconnect to receive programming updates
|}
A '''blank stare''' is a facial expression that conveys a lack of emotion and apparent thought. The character will stare off into the distance, unblinking or blinking only occasionally, and show no emotional range or reaction. Often times, this is utilized in several contexts, such as to highlight a character who is confused or dazed, experiencing some form of psychological trauma or shock, as a symptom of hypnosis or drug use or to show a character lost in their thoughts.

In gynoid related fiction and media, blank stares are utilized to convey a lack of emotion and independent thought that is often associated with robots or androids. This is especially common in androids or robots that are depicted or foreshadowed as threatening, as a further conveyance of their lack of empathy, but on occasion is used merely to display an android's nature without having to display their artificiality by more invasive or time-consuming means, such as opening an [[Access panel]]. It is also frequently used to denote when an android or robotic character is offline or to indicate to the audience that they have been shut down, or that an android with a normally wide range of emotions or expressions is malfunctioning or has their ability to process independent thought shut down or otherwise disabled.

Because this effect is relatively simple in live action productions, relying only on an actor or actress' ability to maintain an expressionless stare, it's frequently used in productions that have a limited effects budget. In other productions, this is still a convenient method of displaying a character's robotic nature without having to take time showing a character's internal workings.

==Examples==
<gallery>
FLV blank stare 1.jpg
FLV blank stare 2.jpg
FLV blank stare 3.jpg
FLV blank stare 4.jpg
FLV blank stare 5.jpg
I Love Maria blank stare.gif|Animated
Plutón B.R.B. Nero - shutdown scene.gif|Animated
Bitter Metal from Vixens of Virtue, Vixens of Vice.gif|Animated
Westworld elevator girl scene.gif|Animated
Westworld Arlette blank stare scene.gif|Animated
Luvbot.gif|Animated
</gallery>

{{Reveal}}
[[Category:Terminology]]

Blank stare

2019-09-21T05:34:41Z

Saya: The "In fiction" page seemed to be largely unnecessary cruft. The images should be just fine for that.

{| class="wikitable" align="right" style="text-align:center" border="1" style="width:10%"
| [[Image:Upgrade phone disconnect scene.gif]] From the film [[Upgrade (film)|Upgrade]]: The robot Kim attempts to reconnect to receive programming updates
|}
A '''blank stare''' is a facial expression that conveys a lack of emotion and apparent thought. The character will stare off into the distance, unblinking or blinking only occasionally, and show no emotional range or reaction. Often times, this is utilized in several contexts, such as to highlight a character who is confused or dazed, experiencing some form of psychological trauma or shock, as a symptom of hypnosis or drug use or to show a character lost in their thoughts.

In gynoid related fiction and media, blank stares are utilized to convey a lack of emotion and independent thought that is often associated with robots or androids. This is especially common in androids or robots that are depicted or foreshadowed as threatening, as a further conveyance of their lack of empathy, but on occasion is used merely to display an android's nature without having to display their artificiality by more invasive or time-consuming means, such as opening an [[Access panel]]. It is also frequently used to denote when an android or robotic character is offline or to indicate to the audience that they have been shut down.

Because this effect is relatively simple in live action productions, relying only on an actor or actress' ability to maintain an expressionless stare, it's frequently used in productions that have a limited effects budget. In other productions, this is still a convenient method of displaying a character's robotic nature without having to take time showing a character's internal workings.

==Examples==
<gallery>
FLV blank stare 1.jpg
FLV blank stare 2.jpg
FLV blank stare 3.jpg
FLV blank stare 4.jpg
FLV blank stare 5.jpg
I Love Maria blank stare.gif|Animated
Plutón B.R.B. Nero - shutdown scene.gif|Animated
Bitter Metal from Vixens of Virtue, Vixens of Vice.gif|Animated
Westworld elevator girl scene.gif|Animated
Westworld Arlette blank stare scene.gif|Animated
Luvbot.gif|Animated
</gallery>

{{Reveal}}
[[Category:Terminology]]

Whirring sounds

2019-09-21T05:29:27Z

Saya:

[[Image:Sexdroids in Space WHIR.jpg|thumb|250px|[[Sexdroids in Space|Rosie the converted stewardess robot]] whirs loudly as she walks away]]
'''Whirring sounds''' are a type of sound effect produced by the mechanical joints of a fembot as it moves. Often times, this is used as a simple means of either revealing or highlighting a character's artificiality, and is frequently paired with scenes where a fembot reveals their inner workings, such as in a [[Disassembly]] or [[Damage]] scene, or when a fembot [[Malfunction|malfunctions]]. This is also often paired with [[Robotic motion|stiff robotic movements]] to further convey the artificiality of these movements.

==In fiction==
*Luvbot from the short [[Luvbot|film of the same name]]
*Robo-Dina from the show [[Wicked Science]]
*Robot-Monica from the short film [[Monica Electronica]]
*Fembots from [[Austin Powers|Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery]]
*Galatea from [[Bicentennial Man]]
*Gynoid from [[Robot Stories]]
{{Clear}}

==More examples==
{| border="1" width="100%"
|-
|

|-
|}

{{Reveal}}
{{stub}}
[[Category:Terminology]]

Assembly

2019-09-21T04:57:50Z

Saya:

{| class="wikitable" align="right" style="text-align:center" border="1" style="width:10%"
| [[Image:Night Gallery - You Can't Get Help Like That Anymore - circuitry scene.gif]] Assembling maid robots in the Night Gallery epidose "[[You Can't Get Help Like That Anymore]]"
|}
In fembot terminology, '''assembly''' refers to when a fembot is first assembled or re-assembled after either after being [[Damage|damaged]] or [[Disassembly|disassembled]]. This is often used to establish the origin of a fembot character and show how they work, as well as display the skills of their creator or the one repairing them.

==In fiction==
In the anime [[Boku no Marie]], a brief scene in the form of a flashback details the initial stages of construction for a character's "sister".

In the Megaman Cartoon Series, the character Roll is seen being reassembled following dismantlement.

In the Short Film [[Replacement]], a man is shown assembling parts of a robot woman's head.
{{Clear}}

==More examples==
<gallery>
Marie_1-12.jpg
Marie_1-16.jpg
Marie_1-17.jpg
Mega_Man_3-4.jpg
Mega_Man_3-5.jpg
Replacement_5.jpg
Phoenix 2772 face-assembly.gif|Animated
</gallery>

{{stub}}

{{Reveal}}
[[Category:Terminology]]

Central Processing Unit

2017-07-12T04:19:50Z

Saya:

In computer terminology, a '''Central Processing Unit''' or '''CPU''' is a device which carries out the instructed tasks of a computer program by initiating the basic logical, arithmetic, control and input/output operations. The CPU of a computer, as the name indicates, is typically the central processing component for that computer, with other functions like system memory frequently managed by separate components.

In the context of fembot fiction, the CPU operates as the '''brain''' in a rough anthropomorphic analogue to a human brain. Here, every core computer function, especially those concerning control programming and personality, are contained within. Depending on the writer, this could take the form of any number of devices with an equally numerous amount of variations. For instance, a CPU in one work could be a device no larger than a flash drive with the same level of "plug-and-play" modularity, while in another it could be a combination of inorganic computer components and "wet" organic neurons. The functionality and structure of such devices is limited only by the writer's imagination. A particularly common variety of central processor is the "positronic brain" concept made popular by Isaac Asimov, although the exact details and functionality of such a device often varies between story writers.

As an analogue to the human brain, a fembot's CPU is frequently placed in their heads, but not always. A frequent alternate location is the torso, though in some types of fiction the control processing of a fembot may even be an external source, with the fembot operating remotely.

==In fiction==
*In Star Trek: The Next Generation, Soong-type androids, such as [[:Lt. Commander Data]] and his "daughter" [[Lal]] have positronic brains, located in their heads. These devices can be accessed through panels located on various locations on their heads.
*In Bicentennial Man, the robots and androids also utilize a positronic brain located in their heads. These devices give them immortality, even if they elect to convert their mechanical bodies into more humanlike ones.
*In many of [[http://www.fembotwiki.com/index.php?title=Stories/Mirage Mirage's]] stories, he places the CPU in the torso of his fembots.
*In the film Surrogates, humans remotely control androids through a wireless link, with the android bodies having no independent processing system.
* In [[http://www.fembotwiki.com/index.php?title=Stories/Saya Saya's]] stories, the location of the CPU varies between stories. In [[http://www.fembotwiki.com/index.php?title=Crazy_in_the_Heat "Crazy in the Heat"]], the fembot's core processing is in her torso, whereas in [[http://www.fembotwiki.com/index.php?title=The_Time_With_My_Stepsister "The Time With My Stepsister"]], they're located in the cranium.
* In The Big-O, Dorothy Wayneright's CPU has its personality and memory components separated from the core operating systems by a hard drive-like device disguised as a hairband. It can be ejected without interrupting her functionality, but its complete removal shuts her down completely.
==Images==
<gallery>
Image:Lal 34.jpg
Image:Kat_42.jpg
Image:Dorothy 7.jpg
</gallery>
{{Stub}}

{{Hardware}}
[[Category:Terminology]]

Shut-down

2017-07-04T23:48:04Z

Saya:

{| class="wikitable" align="right" style="text-align:center" border="1" style="width:10%"
| [[Image:Plutón B.R.B. Nero - shutdown scene.gif]] Lorna gets shut down in a scene from [[Plutón B.R.B. Nero]]
|}
In fembot terminology, '''Shut-down''' is the case where a fembot is deactivated, usually with a remote, an on/off switch, a malfunction, or by their own will. Shutting a fembot down can either be a measure used to assist in repair/upgrade work, or in stopping a potentially hostile, malfunctioning fembot.

Frequently, the shutdown of a fembot accompanies a change in pose or stance. A common example is where the head slowly lowers and the upper back bends down, with arms going limp. Several other forms of a "shutdown pose" can be seen in various works, from simply staring off into space, to being quite literally left paused in mid-motion or sentence. This can also accompany other effects. A "powering down" sound effect, or a flash of light in the eyes for instance. In Anime, a shut down is usually also accompanied by a change in eye color or characteristics, such as a lack of color, or changes to the appearance of the pupils or iris. Shut-downs are often immediate and abrupt.

==In fiction==
* Jane from the short film [[High Maintenance]] is shut down by her android husband.
* Galatea in [[Bicentennial Man]] was shut down via remote due to her annoying nature.
* Rommie, and a few other fembots, from [[Andromeda]] were shut down on several occasions.
{{Clear}}

==More examples==
<gallery>
Image:High_Maintenance_7.jpg
Image:High_Maintenance_10.jpg
Image:Galatea_10.jpg
Image:Tears_10.jpg
Image:RommieDown(11).jpg
Image:Zahia-animated01.gif|Animated
Image:Asus Eee PC Bunny - Animated 01.gif|Animated
Image:Asus Eee PC Bunny - Animated 02.gif|Animated
</gallery>

{{stub}}
{{Reveal}}
[[Category:Terminology]]

Faceplate

2017-07-04T23:38:39Z

Saya:

[[File:Stepford Wives book cover by Joe DeVito.jpg|thumb|right|150px]]
A '''faceplate''' or sometimes '''facemask''' is the external human-like front cover of a [[fembot|fembot's]] head. The denotation of the face as a faceplate usually means that it can be removed, detached or otherwise opened up in some way. Often times, especially in works from the 1950's, 60's and 70's, the removal of a faceplate (termed by the community as a "[[Faceoff]] scene") is a method of revealing the character as a fembot.
{{clear}}
{{stub}}

{{Hardware}}
[[Category:Terminology]]

Robo-vision

2017-07-03T17:52:30Z

Saya:

{| class="wikitable" align="right" style="text-align:center" border="1" style="width:10%"
| [[Image:Cyborg robovision scene.gif]] Portrayal of robovision from the movie [[Cyborg (Movie)|Cyborg]]
|}
'''Robo-vision''' refers to the visual perception of robots. Robots can be equipped to directly receive video, but interpretation is difficult. In fiction, the view from a robot or cyborg's eyes is often portrayed as markedly different from human beings some way, from seeing things in different colors or visual spectrum to a full Heads Up Display that details system function read-outs and targeting displays. They are usually equipped with HUDs that provide them with targeting and information. As a consequence, this is commonly used as a point-of-view shot for fictional combat robots as they attack or seek out targets. The effect can also be achieved with other devices. For instance, in the ''Predator'' series of films, the eponymous alien hunters use masks equipped with HUD's which allow them to see in multiple vision spectrum, including infrared.

==In fiction==
[[Westworld]]'s robots saw in the infrared spectrum. This was accomplished using an at the time revolutionary computer effect. The 1973 film is widely acknowledged as the first to use such an effect.

Terminators have been portrayed with similar HUDs to assist in the recognition, acquisition and destruction of their targets. The T-800, the most primitive unit to be shown at any length to the viewer, can see only in infrared. Later units can also see in green, presumably as a form of night vision. [[Cameron]] can perceive those spectrums in addition to the normal spectrum visible to humans.

The [[Aprilbot]] in [[Buffy the Vampire Slayer]] was depicted as having a HUD listing her various files and programs with visual data in the center.

The Marionettes of the [[Saber Marionette]] series are shown to use integrated HUDs. In one scene, Lime utilizes an analyzer system which highlights a target's structural weakpoints, which she uses to disable Panther's arm.

==More examples==
<gallery>
Image:Aprilvision.jpg|The vision of the Aprilbot in Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Image:Class of 1999 16.jpg|From [[Class of 1999]]
Image:T800HUD.jpg|The vision of the T-800 in Terminator
Image:Cameron_15.jpg|The vision of Cameron in The Sarah Connor Chronicles
Image:WestworldHUD.jpg|The vision of the Gunslinger in Westworld
Image:Sabre_Marionettes032.jpg|Lime analyzes Panther for a weak spot to attack
</gallery>

{{stub}}

{{Reveal}}
[[Category:Terminology]]

Faceoff

2017-07-03T17:24:29Z

Saya:

{| class="wikitable" align="right" style="text-align:center" border="1" style="width:10%"
| [[Image:Katy's faceoff scene.gif]] An iconic faceoff: [[Katy]] is revealed to be a fembot
|}
A '''faceoff''' is the removal or opening of a fembot's facial covering. Frequently, this takes the form of a fembot's face being a form of [[Access panel]], whereby the face removal consists of disconnecting it from the head or "opening" the head through the face. Other times, it can quite literally involve pulling the fembot's face off like a mask to reveal the components underneath. As a practical effect, it's a particularly simple way of revealing a character as a fembot, as an actress can wear a mask or footage of a dummy head can be used in their place.

==Variations==
A fembot's face can be referred to as a facemask, faceplate, or some other similar term. The style of opening or removal can vary, as can the look of the electronics inside. Some facemasks come off completely, while others open on a hinge. Some facemasks are shaped to be the entire face, some an "oval" and some peltate ("shield" shaped).

The electronics visible inside the opened head can also vary a great deal. Sometimes the fembot's "eyes" can remain visible, along with the speaker that produces her voice. Other times, nothing but wiring, circuit boards and flashing LEDs are visible.

===Franklin style===
The fembots created by [[Dr. Franklin]] in the TV show [[The Bionic Woman]] had oval-shaped facemasks, seemingly made from rubber, that could be easily removed by pulling it. Beneath it was a metallic plate with various '70s era electronic components affixed to it, along with two glass eyes and a speaker. Many portrayals of fembots have used this basic pattern, and it is the most common to be found in TV and movies with faceoffs. It is also very common in [[Gallery#Fembot Central User Galleries|manip art]] by [[Fembot Central]] members.

===Westworld style===
[[Image:3777881664 7023bcd490 z.jpg|thumb|left|100px|A [[manip]] by the artist [[Xeran's manips|Xeran]]]]
In the movie [[Westworld]], robots were the main attractions at a luxury resort called [[Delos]]. Robots were shown in Robot Repair being [[Repair|repaired]] and maintained. The facemasks for these robots were shown to have the eyes built into them. When removed from the front of the head, the facemask remained connected to the rest of the robot's electronic system by means of a flexible bundle of cables and wires attached to the inside of the facemask. The inside of the robot's head was shown to contain an even less human-like appearance as that of the Fembots in The Bionic Woman. Rather than an electronic speaker, an open tube with a flared end was shown to project the robot's voice. This style of faceoff is also common in manip art by Fembot Central members.{{clear}}

===Futureworld style===
[[Image:Chantelle faceoff.png|thumb|100px|Manip by [[Robotman's manips|Robotman]]]]
In [[Futureworld]], the sequel to Westworld, the robots of Delos were shown to have a more technologically advanced look than before. The distinguishing features of this style are the peltate opening in the robot's head and the lack of connecting cables and wires attached to the underside of the facemask. The electronics inside the head also have a less human-like appearance and layout than that of other faceoff styles. Faceoff scenes of this style are also fairly common in TV and movies, as well as in the art and manips of fembot central members.{{clear}}

===Other types===
[[Image:Robot waitress detail.png|thumb|left|100px|Manip by [[RS5420's manips|RS5420]]]]
Other styles of faceoff can be seen to hold a wide variety of electronic patterns and human-like features. Some are designed to look as inhuman as possible, while others can be seen as mimicking the skeletal form of a skull and its skin. Some contain complex constructions of wiring, circuit boards and other exposed electronic components, while others are meant to give the impression of a polished and professionally designed computer interface. The manner of opening can differ greatly too. Some facemasks can be removed completely, while others split and remain attached to the head as they open. These faceoff styles make up the remainder of faceoffs seen in TV and movies, and in art and manips by Fembot Central members. Many examples of these can be seen in the example images below.{{clear}}

==More examples==

<gallery>
Image:Lonely 7.jpg
Image:TZ The Lonely cap 5.jpg
Image:Doctor Who Android Invasion faceoff.jpg
Image:Androidinvasion Sarah faceoff.jpg
Image:Kill Oscar 07.png
Image:Kill Oscar 08.png
Image:Kill Oscar 57.png
Image:Kill Oscar 58.png
Image:Kill Oscar 73.png
Image:Kill Oscar 74.png
Image:Fembots in Las Vegas 37.png
Image:Fembots in Las Vegas 40.png
Image:Piri4-1-.jpg
Image:Piri5-2-.jpg
Image:Faceoff from comic 1.jpg
Image:X-Men faceoff.jpg
Image:Powers of Matthew Star 32.jpg
Image:Powers of Matthew Star 36.jpg
Image:Ultimate Lover vlcsnap-8560.png
Image:Ultimate Lover vlcsnap-9732.png
Image:Ultimate Lover vlcsnap-9832.png
Image:Cybertracker faceoff 1.png
Image:Cybertracker faceoff 2.png
Image:Nikki Termonator faceoff 1.jpg
Image:Nikki Termonator faceoff 2.jpg
Image:Inquest97-scottgrimando.jpg
Image:Shag 24.jpg
Image:Shag 46.jpg
Image:Ai005.jpg
Image:Ai006.jpg
Image:1516.jpg
Image:BILY 2.jpg
Image:BILY 4.jpg
Image:Picture030.jpg
Image:Picture035.jpg
Image:Wicked Science 31.png
Image:Wicked Science 42.png
Image:TV 15 08042010 1537.0000000(7).jpg
Image:TV 15 08042010 1537.0000000(8).jpg
Image:Frys 05.jpg
Image:Frys 08.jpg
Image:The Robots of Love - 12 faceoff.png
Image:Surrogates HD 2.jpg
Image:Surrogates HD 1.jpg
Image:Android Love faceoff 1.png
Image:Android Love faceoff 2.png
Image:FEMBOT MODEL DOLL HEAD 09.jpg
Image:FEMBOT MODEL DOLL HEAD PROFILEPIC.jpg
Image:Naomi-head1.jpg
Image:Naomi-head5a.jpg
Image:Turtleneck 3.jpg
Image:Turtleneck 4.jpg
Image:The Hacker shot0001.png
Image:The Hacker shot0002.png
Image:Lisa 17.jpg
</gallery>

===Animated===
<gallery>

Image:Tumblr meh5rrzRWv1qmvy8zo1 500.gif
Image:Sarah Jane's faceoff.gif
Image:Katy's faceoff scene.gif
Image:Katy Fembot faceoff 2.gif
Image:Tammi's faceoff.gif
Image:Beyond Westworld 02 Pamela's faceoff.gif
Image:Phoenix 2772 face-assembly.gif
Image:Powers of Matthew Star fembot.gif
Image:Jem Pizzazz fembot.gif
Image:Robotrix faceoff scene.gif
Image:Cybertracker faceoff.gif
Image:Nikki Terminator faceoff.gif
Image:Superman animated Darci face scene 1.gif
Image:Trouble Chocolate Episode 20 faceoff.gif
Image:Austin powers-shagged 01.gif
Image:Tumblr lkbvdpiLLQ1qe0eclo1 r8 500.gif
Image:Dominique robot (The Bouncer PS2).gif
Image:Tumblr m303q2ThAX1qzqnxxo2 500.gif
Image:Japanese android woman faceoff.gif
Image:Wicked science-faceoff.gif
Image:Yellow Generation - Kitakaze no Taiyou.gif
Image:Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow faceoff scene.gif
Image:Fry's commercial faceoff.gif
Image:Makina.gif
Image:Surrogates - Faceoff animated 2.gif
Image:Android Love faceoff.gif
Image:Sybil the Fembot 2 faceoff.gif
Image:Logan's Run parody faceoff.gif
Image:Nha2.gif
Image:The Hacker faceoff scene.gif
Image:The Continuum - Lisa (faceoff scene).gif
Image:Rfg1.gif
</gallery>

{{Reveal}}
[[Category:Terminology]]

Faceoff

2017-07-03T17:22:12Z

Saya: The "for some it's the most erotic form of reveal imaginable" part seemed a little too opinion-y.

{| class="wikitable" align="right" style="text-align:center" border="1" style="width:10%"
| [[Image:Katy's faceoff scene.gif]] An iconic faceoff: [[Katy]] is revealed to be a fembot
|}
A '''faceoff''' is the removal or opening of a fembot's facial covering. Frequently, this takes the form of a fembot's face being a form of [[Access Panel]], whereby the face removal consists of disconnecting it from the head or "opening" the head through the face. Other times, it can quite literally involve pulling the fembot's face off like a mask to reveal the components underneath.

==Variations==
A fembot's face can be referred to as a facemask, faceplate, or some other similar term. The style of opening or removal can vary, as can the look of the electronics inside. Some facemasks come off completely, while others open on a hinge. Some facemasks are shaped to be the entire face, some an "oval" and some peltate ("shield" shaped).

The electronics visible inside the opened head can also vary a great deal. Sometimes the fembot's "eyes" can remain visible, along with the speaker that produces her voice. Other times, nothing but wiring, circuit boards and flashing LEDs are visible.

===Franklin style===
The fembots created by [[Dr. Franklin]] in the TV show [[The Bionic Woman]] had oval-shaped facemasks, seemingly made from rubber, that could be easily removed by pulling it. Beneath it was a metallic plate with various '70s era electronic components affixed to it, along with two glass eyes and a speaker. Many portrayals of fembots have used this basic pattern, and it is the most common to be found in TV and movies with faceoffs. It is also very common in [[Gallery#Fembot Central User Galleries|manip art]] by [[Fembot Central]] members.

===Westworld style===
[[Image:3777881664 7023bcd490 z.jpg|thumb|left|100px|A [[manip]] by the artist [[Xeran's manips|Xeran]]]]
In the movie [[Westworld]], robots were the main attractions at a luxury resort called [[Delos]]. Robots were shown in Robot Repair being [[Repair|repaired]] and maintained. The facemasks for these robots were shown to have the eyes built into them. When removed from the front of the head, the facemask remained connected to the rest of the robot's electronic system by means of a flexible bundle of cables and wires attached to the inside of the facemask. The inside of the robot's head was shown to contain an even less human-like appearance as that of the Fembots in The Bionic Woman. Rather than an electronic speaker, an open tube with a flared end was shown to project the robot's voice. This style of faceoff is also common in manip art by Fembot Central members.{{clear}}

===Futureworld style===
[[Image:Chantelle faceoff.png|thumb|100px|Manip by [[Robotman's manips|Robotman]]]]
In [[Futureworld]], the sequel to Westworld, the robots of Delos were shown to have a more technologically advanced look than before. The distinguishing features of this style are the peltate opening in the robot's head and the lack of connecting cables and wires attached to the underside of the facemask. The electronics inside the head also have a less human-like appearance and layout than that of other faceoff styles. Faceoff scenes of this style are also fairly common in TV and movies, as well as in the art and manips of fembot central members.{{clear}}

===Other types===
[[Image:Robot waitress detail.png|thumb|left|100px|Manip by [[RS5420's manips|RS5420]]]]
Other styles of faceoff can be seen to hold a wide variety of electronic patterns and human-like features. Some are designed to look as inhuman as possible, while others can be seen as mimicking the skeletal form of a skull and its skin. Some contain complex constructions of wiring, circuit boards and other exposed electronic components, while others are meant to give the impression of a polished and professionally designed computer interface. The manner of opening can differ greatly too. Some facemasks can be removed completely, while others split and remain attached to the head as they open. These faceoff styles make up the remainder of faceoffs seen in TV and movies, and in art and manips by Fembot Central members. Many examples of these can be seen in the example images below.{{clear}}

==More examples==

<gallery>
Image:Lonely 7.jpg
Image:TZ The Lonely cap 5.jpg
Image:Doctor Who Android Invasion faceoff.jpg
Image:Androidinvasion Sarah faceoff.jpg
Image:Kill Oscar 07.png
Image:Kill Oscar 08.png
Image:Kill Oscar 57.png
Image:Kill Oscar 58.png
Image:Kill Oscar 73.png
Image:Kill Oscar 74.png
Image:Fembots in Las Vegas 37.png
Image:Fembots in Las Vegas 40.png
Image:Piri4-1-.jpg
Image:Piri5-2-.jpg
Image:Faceoff from comic 1.jpg
Image:X-Men faceoff.jpg
Image:Powers of Matthew Star 32.jpg
Image:Powers of Matthew Star 36.jpg
Image:Ultimate Lover vlcsnap-8560.png
Image:Ultimate Lover vlcsnap-9732.png
Image:Ultimate Lover vlcsnap-9832.png
Image:Cybertracker faceoff 1.png
Image:Cybertracker faceoff 2.png
Image:Nikki Termonator faceoff 1.jpg
Image:Nikki Termonator faceoff 2.jpg
Image:Inquest97-scottgrimando.jpg
Image:Shag 24.jpg
Image:Shag 46.jpg
Image:Ai005.jpg
Image:Ai006.jpg
Image:1516.jpg
Image:BILY 2.jpg
Image:BILY 4.jpg
Image:Picture030.jpg
Image:Picture035.jpg
Image:Wicked Science 31.png
Image:Wicked Science 42.png
Image:TV 15 08042010 1537.0000000(7).jpg
Image:TV 15 08042010 1537.0000000(8).jpg
Image:Frys 05.jpg
Image:Frys 08.jpg
Image:The Robots of Love - 12 faceoff.png
Image:Surrogates HD 2.jpg
Image:Surrogates HD 1.jpg
Image:Android Love faceoff 1.png
Image:Android Love faceoff 2.png
Image:FEMBOT MODEL DOLL HEAD 09.jpg
Image:FEMBOT MODEL DOLL HEAD PROFILEPIC.jpg
Image:Naomi-head1.jpg
Image:Naomi-head5a.jpg
Image:Turtleneck 3.jpg
Image:Turtleneck 4.jpg
Image:The Hacker shot0001.png
Image:The Hacker shot0002.png
Image:Lisa 17.jpg
</gallery>

===Animated===
<gallery>

Image:Tumblr meh5rrzRWv1qmvy8zo1 500.gif
Image:Sarah Jane's faceoff.gif
Image:Katy's faceoff scene.gif
Image:Katy Fembot faceoff 2.gif
Image:Tammi's faceoff.gif
Image:Beyond Westworld 02 Pamela's faceoff.gif
Image:Phoenix 2772 face-assembly.gif
Image:Powers of Matthew Star fembot.gif
Image:Jem Pizzazz fembot.gif
Image:Robotrix faceoff scene.gif
Image:Cybertracker faceoff.gif
Image:Nikki Terminator faceoff.gif
Image:Superman animated Darci face scene 1.gif
Image:Trouble Chocolate Episode 20 faceoff.gif
Image:Austin powers-shagged 01.gif
Image:Tumblr lkbvdpiLLQ1qe0eclo1 r8 500.gif
Image:Dominique robot (The Bouncer PS2).gif
Image:Tumblr m303q2ThAX1qzqnxxo2 500.gif
Image:Japanese android woman faceoff.gif
Image:Wicked science-faceoff.gif
Image:Yellow Generation - Kitakaze no Taiyou.gif
Image:Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow faceoff scene.gif
Image:Fry's commercial faceoff.gif
Image:Makina.gif
Image:Surrogates - Faceoff animated 2.gif
Image:Android Love faceoff.gif
Image:Sybil the Fembot 2 faceoff.gif
Image:Logan's Run parody faceoff.gif
Image:Nha2.gif
Image:The Hacker faceoff scene.gif
Image:The Continuum - Lisa (faceoff scene).gif
Image:Rfg1.gif
</gallery>

{{Reveal}}
[[Category:Terminology]]

Disassembly

2017-07-03T17:16:05Z

Saya:

{| class="wikitable" align="right" style="text-align:center" border="1" style="width:10%"
| [[Image:Laser Maze disasembly.gif]] A partially disassembled robot, with her head detached from her body
|}
In fembot terminology, '''disassembly''' is when a fembot is dismantled, typically without incurring severe damage. It differentiates from [[Damage]] by virtue of the fembot having been disassembled according to design specifications, as opposed to violent action.

Disassembly can vary in depiction. A disassembled fembot may otherwise be whole with a few core components removed, or completely taken apart down to basic body components. A common depiction of disassembly is the removal of one or more limbs or the head of a fembot. This can often be a method of revealing the character as a robot.

==In fiction==
In the Megaman Cartoon Series, the character Roll can be seen dismantled on a table.

In [[The New Outer Limits]] episode [[Glitch]], the character Wendy is shown disassembled on a table after she is discovered to be a fembot.
{{Clear}}

==More examples==
<gallery>
Image:Mega_Man_3-4.jpg
Image:Glitch9.JPG
Image:8427092239 c059fd5f99 b.jpg
Image:Cyborg² activation scene.gif|Animated
Image:Dark_Matter_3.4-18.jpg
</gallery>

{{stub}}

{{Reveal}}
[[Category:Terminology]]

Disassembly

2017-07-03T17:15:21Z

Saya:

{| class="wikitable" align="right" style="text-align:center" border="1" style="width:10%"
| [[Image:Laser Maze disasembly.gif]] A partially disassembled robot, with her head detached from her body
|}
In fembot terminology, '''disassembly''' is when a fembot is dismantled, typically without incurring severe damage. It differentiates from [[Damage]] by virtue of the fembot having been disassembled according to design specifications, as opposed to violent action.

Disassembly can vary in depiction. A disassembled fembot may otherwise be whole with a few core components removed, or completely taken apart down to basic body components. A common depiction of disassembly is the removal of one or more limbs or the head of a fembot. This can often be a method of

==In fiction==
In the Megaman Cartoon Series, the character Roll can be seen dismantled on a table.

In [[The New Outer Limits]] episode [[Glitch]], the character Wendy is shown disassembled on a table after she is discovered to be a fembot.
{{Clear}}

==More examples==
<gallery>
Image:Mega_Man_3-4.jpg
Image:Glitch9.JPG
Image:8427092239 c059fd5f99 b.jpg
Image:Cyborg² activation scene.gif|Animated
Image:Dark_Matter_3.4-18.jpg
</gallery>

{{stub}}

{{Reveal}}
[[Category:Terminology]]

Central Processing Unit

2017-07-03T17:03:11Z

Saya:

In computer terminology, a '''Central Processing Unit''' or '''CPU''' is a device which carries out the instructed tasks of a computer program by initiating the basic logical, arithmetic, control and input/output operations. The CPU of a computer, as the name indicates, is typically the central processing component for that computer, with other functions like system memory frequently managed by separate components.

In the context of fembot fiction, the CPU operates as the '''brain''' in a rough anthropomorphic analogue to a human brain. Here, every core computer function, especially those concerning control programming and personality, are contained within. Depending on the writer, this could take the form of any number of devices with an equally numerous amount of variations. For instance, a CPU in one work could be a device no larger than a flash drive with the same level of "plug-and-play" modularity, a combination of inorganic computer components and "wet" organic neurons and everything in between, limited only by the writer's imagination. A particularly common variety of central processor is the "positronic brain" concept made popular by Isaac Asimov, although the exact details and functionality of such a device often varies between story writers.

As an analogue to the human brain, a fembot's CPU is frequently placed in their heads, but not always. A frequent alternate location is the torso, though in some types of fiction the control processing of a fembot may even be an external source, with the fembot operating remotely.

==In fiction==
*In Star Trek: The Next Generation, Soong-type androids, such as [[:Lt. Commander Data]] and his "daughter" [[Lal]] have positronic brains, located in their heads. These devices can be accessed through panels located on various locations on their heads.
*In Bicentennial Man, the robots and androids also utilize a positronic brain located in their heads. These devices give them immortality, even if they elect to convert their mechanical bodies into more humanlike ones.
*In many of [[http://www.fembotwiki.com/index.php?title=Stories/Mirage Mirage's]] stories, he places the CPU in the torso of his fembots.
*In the film Surrogates, humans remotely control androids through a wireless link, with the android bodies having no independent processing system.
* In [[http://www.fembotwiki.com/index.php?title=Stories/Saya Saya's]] stories, the location of the CPU varies between stories. In [[http://www.fembotwiki.com/index.php?title=Crazy_in_the_Heat "Crazy in the Heat"]], the fembot's core processing is in her torso, whereas in [[http://www.fembotwiki.com/index.php?title=The_Time_With_My_Stepsister "The Time With My Stepsister"]], they're located in the cranium.
* In The Big-O, Dorothy Wayneright's CPU has its personality and memory components separated from the core operating systems by a hard drive-like device disguised as a hairband. It can be ejected without interrupting her functionality, but its complete removal shuts her down completely.
==Images==
<gallery>
Image:Lal 34.jpg
Image:Kat_42.jpg
Image:Dorothy 7.jpg
</gallery>
{{Stub}}

{{Reveal}}
[[Category:Terminology]]

Central Processing Unit

2017-07-03T16:24:51Z

Saya: Saya moved page Brain to Central Processing Unit: The term is too vague, and the text in the article already refers to a "brain" as a "Central Processing Unit"

A '''Brain''' to a fembot, or android, is its Central Processing Unit, or CPU, along with its various memory storage devices and other chips. The android brain can be located in various locations, such as the head, the torso, or even outside of the body itself, with the brain wirelessly controlling the body from a central server.

==In fiction==
*In Star Trek: The Next Generation "The Offspring", [[:Lt. Commander Data]] built an android and allowed it to choose its own image, that of a young human woman. Both he and [[Lal]] operate using a Positronic brain, located in their head.
*In Bicentennial Man, the robots and androids also utilize a computer brain located in their heads. These brains give them immortality, even if they elect to convert their mechanical bodies into more humanlike ones.
*In many of Mirage's stories, he places the brain in the torso of his fembots.
*In the film Surrogates, humans remotely control androids through a wireless link, thus, the androids do not have brains.

==Images==
<gallery>
Image:Lal 34.jpg

</gallery>
{{Stub}}

{{Reveal}}
[[Category:Terminology]]

Gallery/Coyote Ragtime Show

2017-05-18T17:49:31Z

Saya: I removed that image from the list. It's actually fan art of the character "Mary" from the game "Soul Hackers".

=From the anime [[Coyote Ragtime Show]]=
__TOC__
==Ep. 01: Prison Break==
<gallery>
Image:1314370814656.jpg
Image:1296482937483.jpg
</gallery>

==Ep. 06: Fierce Fight==
<gallery>
Image:1296482876859.jpg
</gallery>

==Fan Art==
<gallery>
Image:08bc46eeb1b78e834971a31beaf5a279.jpg
Image:7f7de0dd0031b9ff6965d44b309d8714.jpg
</gallery>

[[Gallery|Back to the gallery]]

[[Category:Anime]]
[[Category:Vidcaps]]
[[Category:Built vidcaps]]

Gynoid

2017-02-25T04:45:13Z

Saya:

[[Image:1221890120823.jpg|thumb|250px|The word Gynoid was popularized in part by [[Hajime Sorayama]] and his famous "Sexy Robot" paintings]]
'''Gynoid''' is a term used to specifically describe a female humanoid robot. The etymology of the word is from Ancient Greek γυνή (gunē, “woman”) and . This is as opposed to the term "Android", is derrived from the Ancient Greek ἀνδρός (andros), genitive of ἀνήρ (anēr, “man”)

Frequently, "gynoid" and "android" are considered interchangeable. Indeed, it is often the case that "android" is used to describe humanoid, human-like robots of both sexes.
==In fiction==

==More examples==
<gallery perrow="5">
</gallery>

{{Clear}}
{{Stub}}
{{Synth}}
[[Category:Terminology]]

Cyborg

2017-02-25T04:42:27Z

Saya:

[[Image:Ghost in the shell-019.jpg|thumb|250px|[[Major Motoko Kusanagi]] from [[Ghost in the Shell]] is mostly robotic, with only a small part of her original brain remaining organic]]
A '''Cyborg''' is an organic being, such as a human, which has undergone mechanical augmentation as a form of enhancement or as a prosthesis after suffering a debilitating injury. The term "cyborg" is an abbreviation for "cybernetic organism".

Depictions of cyborgs in media are varied. A common reason for such augmentation is to repair debilitating injuries, up to and including the wholesale replacement of the body save for the brain or parts of the brain, though more commonly, extremities such as the arms and legs are replaced. Other forms of cybernetic parts include cybernetic eyes and cybernetic organs. Implants, such as those that allow a human to connect to computer systems, are also frequently depicted. Cybernetic parts can have a wide range of functions and are ultimately limited by a writer or effect's designer's imagination or budget.

Because of their similarity to androids and robots to the casual observer, the term "cyborg" is sometimes inaccurately used to describe a wholly mechanical being such as an android, or a bio-mechanical robot such as a [[Terminator]]. This is especially common in older works, before such terms became widely circulated among mainstream audiences. Additionally, descriptors such as "half-human, half-cyborg" occasionally appear, which are ultimately redundant. Strictly speaking, a cyborg is an organic being that is enhanced or supplemented through technological augmentations, implants and prosthesis.

==In fiction==
*Jaime Sommers from [[The Bionic Woman]]
*Certain [[Terminator]] models
*Eve from [[Eve of Destruction]]
*Samantha from [[Deadly Friend]]

==More examples==
<gallery>
Image:Man From UNCLE The Sort of Do-It-Yourself Dreadful Affair.png
Image:Deadly_2.jpg
Image:Lindsay-wagner-bionic-arm-from-bionic-woman-ever-after.jpg
</gallery>

{{stub}}
{{Synth}}
[[Category:Terminology]]

The Time With My Stepsister/Chapter 6

2016-12-07T05:57:05Z

Saya:

''So yeah, remember when I had like, a schedule and such? And all was good? Well, the gods laugh at our schedules, and then they give us re-releases of awesome games we played to death. So, in order to make it up to you guys, I am going to post this chapter and the next, final one. I hope you have enjoyed this story and have had lots of fun and sexy times reading it. : D Let the post-story posting copy-editing begin!

''
----

Chapter 6

It took a few hours to get Arata completely re-assembled and to re-calibrate all of his functions. But to Chise's relief, he took to the process like a duck to water. Soon, he was back on his feet, reassembled and ready to rescue his stepsister. Chise, for that matter, needed to do some reassembling. She opted instead for a simple patch with synthetic skin covering. It didn't stop Chise from putting on low-cut synthetic leather pants, a matching black halter top and a high-collared jacket. Arata was getting his own clothes on, and was slipping on his leather jacket when he noticed what Chise was wearing.

“I know that what we are doing is right out of an action movie, but do you have to dress like some sort of movie badass?” Arata was teasing in his criticism, but even that caught Chise off guard, who was used to someone a bit more timid and reserved.

“Well, helps if I dress the part, right? I mean, look at you. You've got that whole understated badass thing going on. Throw on an eye patch and you'd be a dead ringer for Sony Chiba. Well, maybe if you aged about ten years and cut your hair.” Chise smiled, and Arata smiled too, even if he wasn't exactly sure who she was referring to.

“Well, should we go over our plan?” Arata paused a moment, and as he slipped on his socks added “What little plan we have, anyway...”

Chise sighed. “Right. We walk in, you stall her, I then connect the drive to something on the network. Miyu, maybe, I'm pretty familiar with her systems.” She slipped her tall boots on. “I honestly don't know what I spend more money on, my clothes or my spare parts...”

Arata smirked, then stood up, walking over to the door where to his surprise, Chise had put his shoes away neatly. Taking them, slipping them on, the two of them were soon ready to confront Katsumi.

“If it goes wrong...Arata, if she figures out you're an android, too, she might try to make you a part of her system. Me too, for that matter.” Chise noted this just as Arata walked back to her side. He reached over to a table. There lay two USB flash drives. One was similar to the drive that Chise had showed him earlier in the day. The other was a black drive that had the letters “CTRL” written on a piece of scotch tape. This was the control program, and Arata put both in his pants pockets.

“Guess now we have a plan B if it all fails...Arata, I'm not familiar with your systems. There's no way that you could be sure you'd be compatible with those programs. Don't forget about what happened with the QR code, and that was programming intended to operate with your systems...This, I don't even know what this could do to you.”

Arata sighed as he considered this. He nodded, then turned and headed for the door. “We'll find out, won't we? We only get one shot with this. It has to work.” Arata nodded to himself firmly. “It will work.”

Chise nodded, and smiled. “Lets get that sister of yours home in time for her play.”

With that, they exited the apartment, sure only of what would happen if they failed.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Warehouse 223 was just ahead. Though it was closer to sunrise than sunset, the lights were still on. Arata double checked the time. At first, he wanted to check his watch, but giving his new awareness of his true nature a whirl, he consulted his own internal systems clock to discover it was 4:13 AM. The sunrise would be an hour and a half away, roughly. He had awareness of how this was supposed to be unusual, but it just felt like the most natural thing in the world, like it was always known to him. He looked to Chise, who looked back at him with a smirk.

“You ready, Chise?”

Chise nodded. “As I'll ever be.”

Arata smirked, then turned his head to look back to the door. Leading the way, the pair walked up to the door to the warehouse. He hesitated for a moment, pondering how to go about this, when Chise simply opened the door. Katsumi left her door unlocked, which Arata found perfectly within her arrogant character. Such a tiny thing, and yet he felt his anger raise at the reminder of her. How she had manipulated the two of them, over some nonsense a father he thought he knew had started. By the time he pushed the door open, Arata felt like could have ripped the whole thing off its hinges.

Katsumi was just walking out of her kitchen, wearing her loose-fitting robes, identical to the ones that she had worn when she first met Arata. It left little of her curvaceous form to the imagination. Arata, however, was not so aroused by the sight of this hated woman. Chise, however, couldn't help but allow a little pink to cross her cheeks as she laid eyes on that barely covered body. For about the first time she could recall, she felt a little envious of another android's body. But she soon refocused when she looked over the woman's shoulder and spied behind her Miyu in the far back of the building. With the open construction of the home she'd made from a warehouse, it wasn't hard for the gynoid to spy the little 'pleasure gym' that she had constructed and Arata had described.

Miyu was reassembled, or in a new body. Her hair was now a blue pixie cut, with the bangs covering her left eye slightly. She looked weak, in a haze, as she lay stretched on what looked like a modern take on a dark ages torture rack. The stainless steel body of the machine was contrasted by the black pulleys and motors that operated the device. Miyu was stretched tight on it, her arms well above her head and her legs stretched tightly underneath her. The high-tensile wire that held her in place looked strong enough that Miyu would give before the wire did. She wore only what could be generously described as a top, more a latex strap that stretched over her breasts and barely kept her decent, the synthetic flesh of her breasts almost spilling over it. A tight latex thong was stretched tightly against her crotch, and her arms and legs were covered in similar material that extended to her elbows and mid-thighs, respectively.

Chise's desire towards Katsumi ebbed, as the maroon-haired woman walked up to Arata with a serious expression on her face. Saying nothing, she then looked to Chise. She walked up to her quickly and stood right in front of her. “Cute,” Katsumi said, Chise's only warning that the more mature-looking android's hand was slipping into her pants. Chise let out a soft, surprised gasp as fingers slipped over the bare slit underneath, fingers pressing against labia that were swiftly growing aroused by the touch. But Chise did her best to look unaffected by it all, disinterested. It was harder than she thought. Katsumi turned her head to Arata.

“But she's not what I am looking for.” Katsumi's voice turned low as she glared at the indifferent-looking Arata. “Where's your father's money, Arata? Where's my money?”

Arata, his confidence now at an all-time high, compensating for his lingering doubt about the validity of their plan, merely stated “I'm sorry, Katsumi. There's no money. My father left me nothing. We looked into the bank he used and he left me nothing but an empty safety deposit box. I'm afraid whatever you had planned for me and my sister is going to fall through.” Arata tried not to let his confidence break out onto his face too easily, remaining as stoic as possible.

Chise let out a sharp gasp as Katsumi suddenly pushed her fingers deep into Chise's sex, before just as suddenly pulling her hand out completely. Chise was left flustered, aroused, but determined to see the plan through regardless of such physical temptations. She watched as Katsumi glared at Arata, looking him up and down, seeming to regard him as somehow different. Perhaps she caught on to that increased confidence, the lack of his hesitation and nervousness. “What do you mean by that? You know what's on the line here, Arata. I won't hesitate to--”

Katsumi suddenly found herself cut off as Chise, in what looked like a practiced movement but was more likely a pre-programmed one, simultaneously wrapped her arm around Katsumi's neck and used her other hand to pull down her robes. They fell around her body, the loose sash doing little to keep the pulled robe on her body as Chise's hand moved down to Katsumi's back panel.

“I'm here to get my sister and my camera back!” Arata shouted that as the panel fell to the ground, mere seconds after the robe had been removed. But Arata's confident, angry look became one of surprise when Katsumi suddenly turned the tables. Grabbing the arm around her neck and letting out a martial arts cry, she suddenly pulled her body forward and threw Chise over her shoulder, causing her to almost crash down on Arata. Arata attempted to dodge, but he found himself getting smacked in the head by Chise's boot as she was thrown down onto her back, landing on the floor with enough force to bounce against it, though that quickly ended as Katsumi's bare foot pressed against her breast, her hands gripping Chise's offending arm tightly.

As Arata brought himself up, pushing himself up off the floor, he turned his head to a distinctly mechanical sound and turned his head to look at Katsumi and Chise, just in time to see Katsumi twisting Chise's hand in the wrong direction, causing a loud servo motor buzz, a crack of the plastics and metals that held it in place and an electrical pop as the wires severed. Katsumi was stronger than either he or Chise had anticipated, and this was further reinforced when Katsumi twisted the whole arm out of joint. Chise let out a cry, but it was less of pain and more of pleasure, Arata noted, as he watched Katsumi throw the still sparking, twisted robotic limb aside with a clatter.

Chise was still on the floor, attempting to rise up on her remaining arm, the jacket shifting in such a way to reveal frayed wire bundles, sparking black dangling power cables and the twitching remnants of her shoulder servo motors, when Katsumi brought her hands down to the back of Chise's neck. The sound of Chise's face repeatedly slamming against the floor followed, a dull smack of synthetic skin hitting the stone-tiled concrete floor, the sound coupled with the muffled, high-pitched mechanical whine of Chise's back and neck servos attempting to resist, but unable to fight the other machine's strength. Katsumi was on her fourth slam, when she suddenly turned up and looked to Arata. A grin crossed her face as she dropped Chise, her damaged, expressionless face hitting the floor as a spark snapped from her damaged right optic. Chise twitched once as a loud pop announced a burst of sparks which scattered across the floor.

Arata was just getting up on his feet when he suddenly felt Katsumi's hand on his neck. Letting out a shout, he found himself being forced up to his feet, before being pushed up against the nearest wall, knocking a small end table over, scattering the small stones in a clear glass bowl about the floor and shattering the bowl itself. At first unsure as to what triggered the sudden aggression towards him, Arata got his answer when he saw Katsumi bring her fingers up to his face. He let out a surprised gasp as he realized where those fingers were going, Katsumi widening a gash on his forehead brought about by the sudden impact of Chise's boot heel to his forehead. The alloy his cranium was made of gleamed in the soft light produced by the ceiling-mounted lamps above them as Katsumi began to slowly peel the material down his head and face. The strip of synthetic skin was pulled all the way down until Katsumi stopped just an inch above his lips. Most of the left side of his head was now exposed. His jaw motors buzzed softly as he let out a gasp, shocked at how much this physically aroused him, as his eye—deprived now of the eye cover that now lay on the floor like a bisected ping pong ball—was reduced to a blue glowing small camera-like optic in his eye socket, surrounded by all manner of tiny servo motors and optic processing systems that allowed his optic sensor to turn, focus and process visual information.

Katsumi pressed her curvaceous body against his, still gripping his neck tightly enough to cause the normally quiet servo motors underneath to buzz faintly. Arata reached up and slapped his hand down on Katsumi's wrist before holding it in a tight grip of his own. Her breasts pushed flat against his chest as his back pressed against the wall, and Katsumi's other hand snapped down between his legs, cupping his crotch through the material of his pants. She could feel his arousal, however irritated—strangely he felt no shame from the sensations and wondered if this was how he was supposed to feel—and chuckled darkly. “Arata,” she said in a seductive sing-song voice. “You're an android too? Well, then that means I'm just going to have to change my plans. I'm going to rip you apart for this. I'm going to tear your body into junk, and then I'm going to sell it off to a scrapyard. And I'm going to make your sister watch as they pluck the precious metals from your circuitry and melt the rest down to spare parts.” She leaned in and let out a passionate groan, the flush on her cheeks coming now from visualizing the scene.

Katsumi's aroused expression became one of surprise, however, as she suddenly found her hand being slowly pulled away from Arata's neck. With a loud keening whine of the servo motors in her arm, Katsumi attempted to fight against Arata's resistance, but found her arm slowly, shakily being pulled away from the android's neck. It was a struggle for both of them, however. Arata's strength seemed to just match that of Katsumi's, and while he was focused on the hand on his neck, he wasn't prepared for Katsumi to pull her hand away from Arata's crotch and instead put her hand to his side. Shooting it underneath his shirt, she gripped the synthetic skin on his side, and with what sounded like the tearing of rubber, began to rip a handful away. Arata let out a shout and a gasp, not of pain as he expected, but of that unexpected sensation of pleasure. Had pain only ever been a construct of his mind, disabled or perhaps even destroyed following the malfunctions that had eliminated his sleeper programming? Arata could not afford to ponder these questions as he felt Katsumi's hand start to pry the plastic dermal plate paneling away from his side, struggling to rip it free from its sturdy anchors.

But Katsumi suddenly had other things to worry about, as a hand suddenly plunged into her open back panel. Chise didn't have the time to try and find the USB drive that she had lost, and instead focused her attention on Arata's attacker. Her vision was blurred by the spiderweb of cracks that were on the stylish and very artificial red optic sensor covering that she had opted for instead of the more traditional human eye cosmetic look, and by the pixelation of her vision brought about by damage to those optical sensors. A large gash split the synthetic skin of her face from the top right corner of her forehead to the bottom left corner of her cheek, revealing cracked plastics and, where the plastic dermal plates had completely broken underneath the skin of her face, sparking wires that afforded one the sight of the mechanisms that operated her face.

Chise shouted out as she twisted her remaining wrist and ripped from Katsumi's open panel a bundle of white, blue, red and yellow wires, causing Katsumi to drop Arata as her whole body tensed. Her sultry voice shifted into a sultry monotone, her eyes crossing as her head tilted back and she announced “Er-Errrorrrrr In Mot-Motor Pro-Processing Si-Signal-nal Pa-Pathway-waaaayysss.” Her head twitched sharply to the right as Arata shoved her away, causing her to crash to the floor, her body as stiff as a plank of wood.

Arata watched as Chise turned her head to him not in one smooth movement, but in a series of twitches. Arata moved over to her, about to ask her if she was alright, when Chise suddenly interrupted the opening of Arata's mouth with a sharp command in a voice undercut by the electronic hiss of static. “Get Miyu! I'll ke-keep the bi-bitch occupied.”

Arata, hesitating for a moment, but realizing that his stepsister was the priority, rushed around the fallen body of Katsumi and then past Chise. Just as he had, however, Chise let out a shout as she was suddenly brought down to the floor, her head bouncing against the floor and letting out a stream of gibberish as Katsumi dragged her across the floor. She let out a tinny, static-y “Go!”, her voice slightly higher pitched than normal, as Katsumi dragged her over to herself. Chise felt a sharp pull upwards as the jacket was pulled from her shoulders, an even sharper yank was felt immediately after as the halter top she wore was stretched against her chest, tearing from her back, the tearing sound of the synthetic material it was made from briefly filling the room, before followed by the noise of servo motors buzzing. Sparks still flew from Katsumi's back as Chise's bare breasts pressed firmly against the floor.

Chise's face was expressionless, the microservo motors that operated it non-functional, lips immobile even as she let out a deeply pleasured moan from what came next. Katsumi, totally focused on the defiant android woman underneath her, gripped the synthetic skin on her waist as she sat on Chise's hips, confident that she'd get to Arata when she was finished here. She gripped the synthskin there, and was surprised to feel it push in with no resistance. Chise had not opted to replace the dermal plates that normally lay under her synthetic skin, instead opting to do so when they had completed their mission. It was overconfidence, and now Katsumi was exploiting it. She dug her fingers in deep and ripped the synthetic material covering Chise's waist and midsection away. It exposed thick bundles of wiring and cabling, the piston-like actuator assemblies that allowed her waist to bend forward and back, normally with the assistance of synthetic musculature underneath, and the flexible metal rod that went down the center of her back, acting in the place of a spine.

“Yes, moan for me you little slut!” Katsumi reached down and grasped Chise's central support rod and began twisting it. Made of light alloys, it creaked and cracked as it was twisted and bent back and forth, up and down, before suddenly snapping with a loud crack. Pulling the two ends up, Katsumi severed the wiring as Chise let out a burst of sylables and static-y rapid-fire groans. “Ce-Cen-Central Sup-Support-port-port--” She was interrupted as Katsumi next began ripping out the wire and cable bundles. Chise's body jerked underneath Katsumi, her legs kicking out involuntarily and her head twisting left and right as countless malfunctions were generated by the sudden termination of power and electrical signals that the wires normally sent along.

Meanwhile, Arata rushed to Miyu's side. His stepsister looked up at Arata with wide, confused eyes. “A-Arata? Is that you? Wha...What happened to you?!” She was shocked not just by the sight of his damaged face, but what lay underneath it. Arata, however, was too focused on trying to get Miyu out of the device she was currently hooked up to. “Arata, say something to me! What's going on?!”

Arata rushed around behind the contraption, attempting to figure out some way of disabling it. Rather than a single simple pulley that operated its ancient ancestor, Arata discovered that there was a whole system of servos, automatic pulleys and even hydraulic pistons that operated the machine. “How the hell...Miyu--”

“There's a pin on the upper left, pull it to engage the safeties and—ah!” Miyu wasn't expecting the sudden fall from the device and neither was Arata. She tumbled to the ground as Arata rushed over to her side, helping her up onto her feet. In spite of the damage to his face and the revelation of what he truly was, once she was in front of Arata, she did not hesitate to give him a quick kiss. “Where have you been?”

Arata was about to say something, when a sudden loud banging noise took both her and Miyu's attention away. Katsumi now stood over Chise's broken body, gripping a bundle of wiring tightly with her right hand, which had been damaged from all the electrical current shooting into it. The synthetic skin had singed in the heat, a large section of it missing from the top of her hand. The naked, voluptuous android pondered the wiring for a moment, before turning to face Arata and Miyu. “Miyu, you naughty bitch. I'm going to make the both of you pay for—ah!” Katsumi fell face-first onto the floor as she took her first step towards the pair, a shaky pale hand gripping her ankle and forcing her face down to the floor.

Chise, still prone on the floor, now bisected by the savage wire tearing that Katsumi had given her, twitched her head in Arata and Chise's direction. “G-g-g-get-get-get-get h-h-her-her-her-her out-out-out-out o-o-of-of-of--” Her stuttering, skipping, electronically distorted attempt to urge her friends on was suddenly interrupted by a kick to the face that sent her head reeling back, the left cover for her optical sensor, already damaged, was now completely broken, revealing the flickering red optical senor underneath. There was keening whine from her neck servos, followed by the thump of her head hitting the floor.

“Chise!” Miyu exclaimed, shocked by the sight of her friend ripped nearly to component parts on the floor, as Arata tugged on her arm to get the both of them heading out towards the warehouse door. Despite the savage kick, Chise still held on tightly to Katsumi's ankle, forcing the other machine to focus her attention on her. Arata and Miyu rushed out of the door and into the open air of the dockyard. The sky had a faint blue glow to it, the full sunshine of the morning still hours away as Arata and Chise ran for cover behind stacks of rusting container crates, stacked at some points three stories high.

In the warehouse that Katsumi had converted into a home, she reached down and grasped Chise's remaining wrist. The other machine stoicly determined now to hang on, a few of her higher functions and many of her motor functions non-operational from all the damage, Chise couldn't help but allow some basic level of her sexual systems to make her moan in pleasure as Katsumi pulled the offending hand back and bent it against the arm it was attached to, until with a bright flash of sparks which quickly ebbed, it wasn't attached any longer, the fingers entering a wild spasm until any connection they had to her motor system network was completely broken. “E-Er-Error-rorrorrrr In-In-In-In Le-Left-Left-Left--”

Before she could finish, Katsumi picked Chise up by the top of her head, her own head twitching slightly as an errant spark escaped her own open back panel, the control panel flashing a display about a failed electrical current re-routing, which ensured at least one wire was still popping white-blue flashes of electricity and filled the air with sizzling snaps. The majority of those, however, were coming from Chise, whose wiring dangled loosely from where her waist had terminated, from the wreckage of her right shoulder and the end of her broken wrist. Katsumi reached out and openly fondled Chise's right breast, squeezing it firmly and rolling it in her fingers. When Chise made a stuttering, broken moan in spite of her damage, Katsumi just chuckled darkly.

“Y-You are go-going to be a bi-bit tri-tricker than Mi-Miyu to ma-make mine. But since you are su-such a willing slu-slut...” Katsumi moved swiftly to the counter near to the computer she had used to reprogram Miyu, and slammed Chise's broken body down onto it. Her head limply hung over the side, the exposed red optical sensor still flickering wildly.

“G-G-G-Go-Go-Go fu-fu-fuck-fuck-fuck yoursel-sel-sel--” The insult was ended as Katsumi brought her bare foot up and swiftly brought it down against Chise's chin. There was a snap of the plastic and metal components that anchored her head to her neck, her breasts bounced as her body shook from the impact, and Chise's words became a wild jumble of half-finished words and syllables. Another sharp kick downwards, and with a pop of a few sparks, Chise's head was knocked loose of her neck, bouncing like a bungee jumper for a moment as a few thick cables kept her head connected to her body. The red light in her optic was now pulsing weakly.

Chuckling to herself, at once annoyed and admiring Chise's resistance, Katsumi pulled a connection cable from the computer and plugged it into the offending android's head. Clicking it into place in spite of the sparks, numerous error warnings flashed on the computer's screen as the connection began. Quickly and automatically bypassing any of Chise's systems security, it began downloading the same program it had into Miyu, with Chise stuttering out in an oddly pleasant tone “I-I A-Am-Am P-Ple-Pleased-Pleased-Pleased To Meet-Meet-Meet—My-My De-De-Desinga-nation-nation—Ya-Yamata-ta Chi-Chise-se-se-se--”

Katsumi smirked. She could let the computer do its work. Soon, she'd make all three of them her own personal robotic harem, if she couldn't get her hands on Daigo's money. She'd make sure she'd get something out of this. Paying no mind to either her total lack of clothing or the sparks popping slowly from the missing panel in her back, Katsumi let the obedience programming download into Chise, thinking of the ways she could re-write her personality, along with Arata's and Miyu's, to make them her loyal toys.

----

Arata and Miyu held each other in a tight embrace when they were sure that they were alone, with Arata letting out a deep sigh of relief. Even if everything had gone to hell, if nothing else, at least they got Miyu out of here.

But now came the difficult part. “Miyu, I don't have the time to explain everything,” Arata said as he put his hands on Miyu's shoulders, taking a step back to look her in the eyes. “Just understand that I am still Arata, and I am here to get you out of this mess my father caused.” Seeing the confusion in those lovely purple eyes, Arata sighed and shrugged off his jacket, letting the genuine leather garment fall to the oily asphalt behind him. Soon, his shirt was up and over his head.

“Arata, you can't be serious, we can't do this—ah!” Miyu let out a gasp as she found what little cover her breasts received from the bondage strap across her chest suddenly gone as Arata ripped the strap away. Her perked nipples now directly touched by the open air, she couldn't help but feel a rush of exhilaration in spite of her protests. She blinked a few times, and then watched as the now topless Arata closed his eyes a moment, before opening them.

“I think I know how this works,” Arata said cryptically, before getting a distant look on his face. Saying nothing, his chest shifted slightly as a panel on the center of his chest suddenly split open vertically and pushed out a small system access panel. A small touch screen flashed a systems display, a small hardline cable was spooled underneath, and on its face were several plugs for a variety of USB-style devices. He first pulled the cable out and looked into Miyu's shocked eyes.

“Arata...you really are...” Miyu was still so surprised and stunned that she barely resisted as Arata reached out, put his hands on her shoulders and quickly spun her around so she was facing away. He reached up and opened her dorsal panel, revealing Miyu's own, more traditional control panel, before unspooling the wire and connecting himself directly to his stepsister's systems. Miyu let out a surprised gasp as she blurt out a “Now Connecting To Unrecognized Hardware. Initiating Handshake Protocol. Testing BIOS Comparability. Systems Now Synched.”

Arata, still looking distant, said nothing as per his nature as a hidden android, and reached into his pockets. He pulled the USB drives out from them, and stared at them for a moment. Closing his eyes, he then stared straight ahead as he plugged one into his own panel, the other into Miyu's. As his panel display flashed alerts about detected malware, Miyu let out a gasp and in a slightly louder, more alert tone announced “Alert: Malicious Software Detected. System Atem-tem-tem-tem-tem--” Her words were cut off as the intrusive programming blew through her firewalls and soon became as much a part of her systems as the link to Katsumi.

Katsumi was just about to grasp the handle to her front door when she suddenly found herself pausing mid-step. “Error In Connected Wi-Fi System. At-Atempting To Isolate-late.” Her body remained still, a statue caught in a pose of mid-motion, hand outstretched to the doorknob as she attempted to identify and isolate an intruding program. However, only a few seconds after it began, it ended. Katsumi thought nothing of it, quite literally, as her systems made no record or note of what had just happened, and she took the door handle and twisted it open.

With no-one to spy them, and nobody to stop her, she stepped out into the dawn air as nude as the day she was first manufactured, turning her head left and right as she attempted to find the escaped pair. She didn't have to look far. Much to her surprise, as soon as the door to the warehouse shut, Miyu and Arata walked out, side-by-side out from the assemblage of old, rusted, empty container crates that they had no doubt been hiding behind. Katsumi grinned, and began to advance towards them. “When I--”

“Katsumi, stop!”

Katsumi's eyes widened as she found herself unwillingly obeying the verbal command, at first stopping as if frozen mid-step, before standing straight and at attention. She stared at the duo, now their turn to approach, the attorney completely helpless as they stepped right up to her, looking her over. In spite of her forced obedience, Katsumi's face became a scowl, as she turned her head to look at Arata. Locking her eyes on his damaged face, she grit her teeth and spoke lowly, angrily. “What have you done, you stupid boy?”

“You're slaved to my commands now, Katsumi. A virus was installed onto the wireless link you used to torture me and force my brother to carry out your wishes.” The soft, but angry feminine voice made Katsumi's head turn in shock as she looked into Miyu's narrowed purple eyes. Katsumi's own eyes were now glowing an intense blue color as she stared, disbelieving, into the face of the one she now knew as Mistress.

“What...What did you do to me?!”

Arata reached up, brought his hands up to squeeze Katsumi's cheeks and turned her head sharply enough to make the servo motors in her neck buzz. “The tables are now turned, Katsumi. My mistress owns the both of us now.” Arata smirked as Katsumi looked absolutely aghast. “The android you were so focused on destroying? She gave me a program that allows one system to control anything on a virus-infected network. Like the wireless network you created between all your toys in the back of your warehouse and my mistress. I gave her the control program, and installed the worm into myself.” He let go, as he moved to face Katsumi. “As much as I wanted to command yourself to go jump into the ocean, I decided that vengeance would be better meted out by my mistress. It felt more...fitting.”

As Arata walked back, he looked over to Miyu, who stared at him with an incredulous look. A smirk crossed her face and she let out a short chuckle, which became an uncontrollable giggle. Arata blinked a few times with his undamaged eye, before tilting his head. “What? What is it, mistress?” Katsumi and Arata both watched as Miyu started to laugh openly, before letting out a soft sigh.

“You're calling me 'mistress', Arata. Is that part of the programming?” Miyu watched as a blush spread to Arata's remaining cheek, a series of thin gel packets on the other side of his face turning a soft red, making the blush all the more obvious.

“Ah...Guess so...If it makes you feel any better, it isn't my idea.” Arata looked mildly embarrassed, but then looked up to Katsumi. “Guess you'd be calling her mistress too, but you look a little tongue-tied.” Katsumi, her expression now one of anger, glared at the two of them, but said nothing. She was in complete disbelief that three androids with the programed personalities of people barely out of school had bested her. That in spite of her years of planning, in spite of the sheer, lucky coincidences that allowed everything to fall into her lap, in the end she was now the toy of her would-be victims.

“What...what are you going to do to me?” Katsumi barely kept her rage restrained as she watched Arata and Miyu stand before her. “You can't report me to the authorities! I know for a fact that A-Ara-rataaa is registered as a human! They'll reformat him, maybe even dismantle him and you won't see him again for years, Miyu! The-there's-there's no-nothing you can do to me!” Katsumi then smirked. “S-so you can just let me go, then, if our bui-buisness is conclu-cluded.”

It was Miyu's turn to suddenly grasp her cheek, any sign of amusement or mirth in her face gone as she turned Katsumi's head to face her. “When we connected to each others systems, Katsumi, Arata showed me the data that he got from his father, the data that disabled his sleeper programming. You manipulated Daigo into stealing from his employers, made him flee to Junkoshima where he tried to start a new life with me and my mother. And he never told you that the money you made him steal, you got him to do it with threats of blackmail to his sick wife. You even threatened to make his wife's death look like a murder...How much lower can you possibly go, Katsumi?” Miyu pulled the mostly immobile Katsumi towards her. “Daigo made sure to warn Arata all about you, should you come back.”

Arata sighed as he crossed his arms against his chest, glaring at Katsumi. “I guess it came a little too late for us.” He had to admit, this aggression was something that he wouldn't have expected out of Miyu. He briefly worried over the possibility that all the reprogramming she had gone through had changed her personality. Still, it was satisfying to see what happened next.

Katsumi was surprised by just how hard the shove against her face was. Her body automatically stumbled and regained its balance to prevent a fall, and listened to the rising anger in Miyu's words. “Daigo wasn't completely innocent, but I was, and so was Arata, and you tried to break up my family, which means that you would have gotten my mother involved in all of this! You haven't even met her and you were scheming to ruin her life! It's androids like you that make the rest of us look bad, Katsumi, make them think we're out to get them, even when all I want to do is make my family happy, human or mechanical.” Miyu sighed, squeezing a hand into a fist. “No, I know exactly what to do with you...”

She turned to look at Arata. “Arata, help me break this android down to her component parts.”

Arata nodded and let his arms go to his sides. “With pleasure.”

Katsumi, wide eyed, then narrowed them as she shouted out “Don't you dare! Don't you touch me, I'll figure out how to get out of this, and then I'll--” Katsumi watched as Arata walked around to her left side, reached out and took hold of her right arm. Because she was given an order to halt, which effectively translated to 'stay still', Katsumi's shoulder servo motor locked in place after the order was given. As Arata pulled upwards on Katsumi's arm, there was a stressed whirring noise as the servo motor attempted to resist, before it broke apart with a loud metallic ping. Katsumi let out a shout, but not one of pain or even discomfort, as Arata pried her arm upwards, repeated metallic pinging and breaking noises sounding out, despite being muffled under her synthetic skin. Her full lips parted as the arm was ripped completely free from its socket, flashing sparks as the wiring tore completely free, electrical bolts snapping into the moist air as Katsumi let out a pleasured howl.

“Y-You-You rea-really-ally thi-think you will g-g-get-get-get away-way-way with--” Katsumi began, before Miyu, having circled around behind her, began tearing the wiring out of her back. She seemed a bit taken aback by the bursts of electrical flashes, but soon began emptying the chassis of the other robotic woman in earnest. “With thi-with thi-with thi-with thi--” Katsumi looped her words as Miyu repeatedly tugged on a thick wire bundle, each yank causing a new iteration of the loop. Her blue eyes crossed as Miyu ripped the bundle free, knocking loose Katsumi's control panel, causing it and the frayed ends of several other wires to dangle loosely out of the wildly sparking panel in her back.

“--G-Go-Going t-to-to-to ma-make-make—aahhnnn--regret-regret-thi-thi-thi-thi--” Katsumi continued to make malfunctioning threats of revenge as Arata reached up and brought his hands up to Katsumi's chest. Going between those large J cups, Katsumi let out a moan filled with static, rising and lowering randomly in pitch as Arata pushed his fingers into the synthetic skin. He pushed them in and looked into Katsumi's eyes as he pulled his hands apart. Katsumi's breasts jiggled from the force from the tear. The blue in her eyes was flickering, her body jerking as Arata reached up and pulled free the plastic plates laid over his blackmailer's endoskeleton.

Rather than a set of 'ribs' in a direct analogy to a human's anatomy, what covered the internal parts of Katsumi's chest was a series of interconnected plates of polymer plastic, with metal rods supporting them. Reaching up to where her chest met her neck, Arata found a place to slip his fingers in and ripped free the topmost panel cover, the plastic anchor points snapping as Arata swiftly moved on. Before too long, Katsumi's upper torso was now completely open from the front. Amongst the forest of tightly packed wiring within, some of which he could spy getting actively ripped free by Miyu's hands from behind, Arata spied other critical components. A silvery cylindrical power cell set in the center of her chest, processors and sub-processors relating to motor functions, tactile sensation, balance and a host of other functions. There was a storm of electrical arcing and sparks inside as wiring began to overload, LED indicators on the power cell flashed with wild warnings regarding power fluctuations, electrical shorts and coolant failures.

Arata reached in and tore out a series of sub-processor circuitry that governed Katsumi's movement, ripping them free with a loud electrical pop. The circuitry snapped against the wet asphalt underneath as it overloaded from the moisture, soon joined by several other components as the stepsiblings continued to pull their tormenter apart.

Katsumi's expression became a far cry from the haughty look of confidence she wore when Arata first saw her. Instead, a vapid smile was on her face as her eyes darted in all directions, her lips twitching as she attempted to speak, but it mostly came out as electronic gibberish. Electrical feedback was causing damage to all parts of her body, including her CPU. As thin wisps of smoke curled up into the air, the sparks began to increase in frequency. Miyu ripping out one of the few remaining bundles of wiring she could reach from Katsumi's dorsal panel caused the attorney machine to jerk her head to the right, her upper lips twitching up and down continuously.

“This-I-This-I-Are-Er-Wh-Th-I-Fr—Per-Personal-nality Em-Emula-lation-tion Fa-Fai-Failure-ure-ure-ure—He-Hello-lo I Am Ve-Venu-Venusian De-Desi-Designs-sings-sings Mo-Model T-11-Foooooouuuurrrrrrr--” Katsumi's rambling self-introduction continued as Miyu reached up to Katsumi's head. Feeling the full anger of a captive's retribution, and the odd feelings of pleasure that only compared to when she herself was ripped apart, Miyu pried off the plastic plates that acted as the anchor for the back of Katsumi's scalp, exposing her metal alloy cranium. Slots at the base were installed for direct device access, and above that was a series of interlocking alloy plates that protected the sensitive processing circuitry within Katsumi's head.

Miyu might have hesitated a week ago, before she came to hate this other machine so much for attempting to take her away from her family, before she was made to realize just how far her own masochistic desires went and a budding interest in something a bit more dominating. Today, however, she reached up and slipped her hand underneath the bottom most of the plates. It was intended to be accessed easily, and while a few of the plates were affixed with screws, Miyu would have no issue with pulling it off with a bit of strength. The plates were soon clattering to the ground in front of Miyu, and revealed a processor set-up similar to her own. Teal blue processor boards similar to circuit boards sitting on top of black plastic square-shaped devices. To Miyu's surprise, there were several less in Katsumi's head than she knew to be in her own. A few of them had the black marks of overload burns and smoked lightly even as Katsumi stood there, shuddering, as Arata pulled off her left arm with a burst of sparks.

As the lubricants from multiple orgasms stained her inner thighs, her synthetic womanhood glistening in the light of the rising sun, Katsumi's head jerked back as Miyu ripped free one of the processor boards. “Wi-wI-WiiIIIde Var-Variety-ty-ty Of--” Miyu swiftly followed up with another board yanked free of its housing. “P-P-Ple-P-Plea-Pleasure-sure-suuurreeee Er-Er-Errors Rep-Repor-Ported In Pri-Primary--” A third one yanked loose. “Cri-Critical Pro-Pro-ProCCCEEsssoRRrrrrr F-Fai-Faiiilllluurrrreeeee--”

A final sharp yank, and the last of the boards was pulled completely from the back of her head. Frozen in an expression of malfunctioning lust, Katsumi let out a burst of robotic gibberish before her AI completely crashed with a pop of sparks from her open head. Her head lowered slowly with a soft buzz from the neck's servo motors as she shut down.

Arata and Miyu didn't stop there, however. They continued to pull components out, though at a less frantic pace, until finally, their tormenter and blackmailer had been brought down to mostly bare, endoskeletal framework in a rough pile on the asphalt. Both androids simulated heavy breaths, getting lost in a strange sense of exhilaration, some quirk of their personality programming which found the dismantling deeply erotic. Arata then moved around the pile of spare parts Katsumi had been reduced to and embraced Miyu, kissing her deeply, pressing his body into hers. All of which Miyu unhesitatingly reciprocated, her hands going up to his biceps as his hands went down to her hips. It then transitioned into a tight hug, with both parties letting out sighs of relief.

Arata pulled back slightly, looking his nearly naked sister in the eyes. “What are we going to do with her, Mi--...What are we going to do with Katsumi? It isn't like we can just leave her a pile of parts, but we can't just let her go about on her own device.”

Miyu smiled and let go of Arata. She walked over to the pile of components and pulled from it Katsumi's head. Smirking, she tilted her head back and forth, before standing up with the other android's face still a mixture of pleasure and malfunction. “I think I know what to do...I'll call her repair specialist, the same one who put me back together after she put me through that giant cheese grater she called BDSM equipment. Seeing as how I'm registered as her owner now, and she follows my commands, I'll simply command her to never do anything like that again.”

Arata blinked at how simple that explanation sounded. “That's all we'll need to do? Are you sure that will work?”

Miyu looked to Arata, then smiled. “Arata, strip.”

Arata stood a bit straighter. “Yes, Mistress,” he said in an obedient voice, before reaching down and unbuckling his pants, pushing them and his underwear down, and slipping himself out of his shoes. He stood there, completely nude, his erection prominent. Arata suddenly felt a rush of embarrassment, but couldn't deny how erotic it felt to be ordered about by his sister like...well, a robot.

Miyu set Katsumi's head down amongst her wreckage and walked over to Arata, placing her latex glove-covered fingers around the shaft of his member. “See? Commands from your owner can be pretty powerful...”

Arata nodded once, and let out a pleasured sigh. “Y-yeah, I think I get it...”

Miyu smirked, and then knelt down in front of Arata, bringing her lips around his stiffened member, as a spark popped from the pile of electronic parts that was her captor just a few feet behind, the first rays of the sun starting to peek between the container crates.

Backup

2016-09-23T02:27:37Z

Saya:

A '''backup''' is an archived copy of an individual robot's[[personality]], memories and artificial intelligence. This may be kept for reference purposes, to debug a robot, to restore a robot after damage or erasure of her personality, to completely rebuild an individual robot after "death" or destruction, or to create additional copes of a individual, depending on the setting.

A backup poses the same technical problems as a personality transfer in general. It is easiest to copy from or to conventional computer architectures. It is harder to copy from or to [[neural net]]s, or from or to the organic human brain.

This is frequently used as a method of recovering a robotic character from destruction in fiction, allowing the character to come back from seemingly fatal damage.

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[[Category:Terminology]]

Android

2016-09-23T02:12:58Z

Saya:

[[Image:Android_17.jpg|thumb|250px|From the film [[Android (movie)|Android]]]]
An '''android''' is a robot that looks and acts like a human. A male can be referred to as an android while a female can be referred to as a '''gynoid'''. However, the term "android" is usually understood to apply to all genders.

In fiction, an android is typically a robot which looks and behaves as close to a human as possible, with skin, hair, and proper male or female anatomies. This differentiates them from the classical robot, which may crudely resemble males or females, but with metal skin or appendages and an overall mechanical appearance.

==Real androids==
The [[Actroid]] and [[EveR-1]] are widely considered to be among the first real androids produced. They still lack certain characteristics that fictional androids have, such as autonomous locomotion.

==Examples==
<gallery>
Image:Andrea 1.jpg
Image:Dr Who Androids Of Tara 1.png
Image:Night Gallery 17.jpg
Image:Galaxina 8.jpg
Image:Not Quite Human 2-1.jpg
Image:Flash 3.jpg
Image:Cyborg2 33.png
Image:Alienres2.jpg
Image:Bargaining 21.jpg
Image:Andromeda6.jpg
Image:Shot0267.png
Image:Android Love 3.jpg
</gallery>

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[[Category:Terminology]]

GINO

2016-09-23T01:46:23Z

Saya: I did an edit to clarify some points, move away from a live-action media bias and clear up some confusion regarding what does and does not constitute a GINO.

[[File:Atomic Vixens - Fembot scene (GINO).png|thumb|250px|The fembots from the porn film [[Atomic Vixens]] are introduced as fembots in a brief comic book style voiceover clip, but they do nothing to indicate that they aren't human. They don't even have any dialogue.]]
'''GINO''' ('''G'''ynoid '''i'''n '''N'''ame '''O'''nly) is a community term referring to the depiction of a character who is stated to be a fembot, cyborg or other form of mechanical life, but displays no signs or behaviors of their status as such. This is frequently used as a critical and dismissive term for a character portrayal in a work, stemming from poor writing, limited production values or a lack of understanding of the subject matter.

It should be noted that a GINO is different from a [[sleeper]]. Whereas a GINO never displays their robotic nature, a sleeper character is deliberately portrayed as acting as human as possible until they are revealed to be mechanical through a malfunction, damage, panel opening or other reveal method beyond they or the audience only being told that they are a robot.

A cyborg that is stated to be an android, fembot or other form of wholly artificial construct is not a GINO, so long as they display some facet of their nature as a cyborg in the depicted work.

Some works, such as certain low-budget live action productions, may lack the special effects budget to display things such as damage or open panels, but still have characters display things such as stilted speech and stiff mechanical movements. These characters are not considered GINO, as they still display their robotic nature in a more low-key manner.

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[[Category:Terminology]]
[[Category:Fictional fembots]]

Crazy in the Heat

2016-09-10T08:35:12Z

Saya: /* Part One */

=Crazy in the Heat=
==Part One==
'''''Planet TXR-471, Rho Juliet System, A Few Hours Before Sunset...'''''

Edward Bernbach had what may have been one of the most thankless, under-appreciated jobs in Known Space, at least the worst before you had to sit behind a desk and deny forms.

The Planetary Survey Corps represented a conglomeration of corporate interests who, on behalf of the myriad of governments that governed the various sectors of space, surveyed new or poorly understood worlds on the frontiers of space. The job could be rough, but it required a fastidious attention to detail. Surveyors of the PSC did more than just draw points on a map, however. Surveying the land included making note of the geography, geology and climate. Once the basics were done, more detailed study of the land would begin, such as making detailed descriptions of the land and its features. Certain rock formations could indicate possible precious mineral deposits, while the terrain of a land could indicate where water, alien wildlife or farming land could be found, or not found as the case may be. All of these were taken into consideration when making preparations to colonize the land, as transporting material across the vast and often perilous depths of space hinged on making precise calculations as to what was required, when it was required and where. If anything was wrong in that assessment, then the colony's settlement could be delayed, or those colonists on those worlds could go months or even years without critical supplies. Or, even worse, go through other channels and suppliers to get them.

Edward, thus, to those unfamiliar with the attention to detail required, would not have expected a man like him to head out to alien worlds and risk life, limb and brain parasites to survey virgin land. When he had a good day, he looked like a desk would suit him best. He was good looking in his own kind of way. His black hair was typically slicked to one side, and his body in good condition, but a bit on the thin side. Glasses with thin, attractive frames typically sat on his nose, though they only partially aided his vision, he needed little of it. He preferred suits to exploration gear, though had settled for an environmental control suit that, to the average Joe, looked more like white work overalls than a sophisticated spacesuit, though closer inspection would reveal the hoses and interface ports constructed into the suit.

But Edward was not having a great day. Or even a mildly acceptable day. Even calling it 'bad' did not quite state it. For Edward was fairly certain that this day would end with him becoming a desiccated corpse. An accidental mummy rendered into man-jerky by dehydration and the relentless assault of a sun larger that that on Earth, which bore its heat down with such intensity that one could be forgiven for thinking that the distant star had a grudge against this planet, the fourth in the Rho Juliet system. It was an endless sea of sand, the dips and valleys of its windswept dunes occasionally broken up by distant visions of towering rock formations that, to the surveyor's trained eye, indicated that the land had at some point been a massive sea in the distant past. But such details were beyond the remotest part of his ability to care.

He ached. Every step felt like he was putting his weight on rubber bands. His muscles screamed for relief, his feet were not wearing boots, so much as they were wearing boot-shaped bags of hot sand, chafing at skin far too accustomed to gravity lifts and gentle walks on paved sidewalks. But it was the heat that was unbearable. The phrase “walking into an oven” did not sufficiently describe it. It felt more appropriate to say that it was like riding into an oven on cayenne pepper cookies while said oven was on fire. It made for a nonsensical mental image, but it felt appropriate. His body was now covered in sweat that rolled into his eyes and mouth, stinging and leaving a bitter salty taste. His hair was matted, looking like a terminal case of bedhead. He didn't even want to think about how he'd smell when he took the suit off.

He could barely think. He felt like his brain was frying, he was sure he could hear it sizzle like bacon on a hot pan. His eyes felt like they might just dry up in their sockets and whatever cognitive functions he possessed were suppressed almost to the point of base functionality. He was an animal, and a dumb one at that, trudging forward with some vague idea of a goal in mind.

And the whole while, he found himself glaring at the source of all his suffering. It helped that they were focused on an agreeable part of its anatomy. Or, specifically, her anatomy.

The woman had introduced herself as the guide contacted by the PSC to show him where to go on what the locals tended to call 'Rho 4'. Sometimes, locals trying to be especially clever would call it “Rho 4 Your Life Away From Here”. Edward had not found it all too clever or amusing. Her name was Tasha Fielding, though she had insisted that she be called Tasha after the first and, to date, only time she had been addressed as 'Ms. Fielding'. She was a knockout, that was for sure. Athletic, tall (taller than Edward's 5'7, so she must have been around an even six feet) and lithe, but not without some nice curves. While she looked more rugged than Edward, she still didn't have the grizzled look of an explorer. If anything, she looked like she could have been a model on a holosite's front page, or maybe even one of those primitive paper format mediums that were popular out here where the extranet didn't always reach. On top of that, she had amazing eyes. Emerald green, a lovely shade that had an almost opal-like shimmer to them. Odd, but not unheard of. Genetic mutations both intentional and accidental were often encountered out here, most of which were harmless and had meager benefits. Still, she didn't seem to even have a tan.

Still, any thoughts of getting into the tight shorts hugging her hips were quickly shot down. She was shrewd, had demanded her payment up front and stayed fairly professional. Professional, but eager, practically beaming at the chance to make cash and lead a surveyor somewhere. It was a simple job, but it paid well. All she had to do was guide him on the fastest, safest route from the small city that contained the spaceport to a smaller settlement and the only other one on the planet.

The rest of her clothing consisted of a sleeveless jacket, the sleeves having been cut off at some point. On it, the symbol for a popular “interstellar longhaul” band, an evolution of more terrestrial country music styles. It was the faded image of a circular emblem, its background the black of space and the white points of stars and the band's name, “Space Truckin' Monkey”, in white font contained within with what looked like a bit of motion blur. He'd studied it intensely, when not occasionally looking at the rise and fall of those hips. At this point, it wasn't even their shape that had attracted him. The fact that they were a moving object caught his attention first and foremost.

As she walked along at a steady pace in front of Edward, Tasha reached up and adjusted the straw 'cowboy' hat that sat on her head, which rested on top of long, scarlet-red hair, then idly tugged on her white, dust-covered sleeveless top under the jacket. All she carried were a few belt packs and a canteen, compared to Edward's large pack, which included his water bladder. In her hands, a tablet that seemed to display a crude map. On occasion, Edward would attempt to peek, but Tasha would close it too fast and make some claim up about 'proprietary information' whenever he asked.

Edward took a sip of a hose that went over his shoulder. The water bladder was connected to a moisturizing system that drew moisture from the air. Even in an arid hellhole such as Rho 4, atmosphere capable of sustaining human life by its nature contained moisture in some form. The bright blue skies of Rho displayed that much with a few white clouds lazily crossing the sky. But, just because it had it didn't mean there would be much of it. The process could take five hours or three days to completely restore his water reserves. And in that time, he could have had a heat stroke, or dehydration. What had been an irritation in the second hour and a concern in the fourth was now a life-threatening crisis in the sixth. And going onto the next hour, it had become intolerable.

Tasha had only known that Edward had stopped when she heard the thump of his pack hitting the desert sand. She blinked in confusion, turning around to stare at the exhausted-looking man, his shoulders low, his chest heaving, his glasses about ready to fall off his face. He took a long sip from his water bladder, and then gasped sharply at the cool liquid hitting his parched lips.

“I...am not...going...any further...” Edward put his hands on his knees and leaned forward, huffing and puffing, feeling ready to fall face-first into the burning sands. Not looking the least bit perturbed, Tasha put a hand on her hip, the other at her side and holding the tablet, which Edward briefly noticed was rather well-worn.

“What? Why, the settlement is only a couple of kilometers eastward, we can make it if we just keep walking for an hour or so...” Tasha spoke with a voice that blended confusion and annoyance at the exhausted surveyor's statement. Edward raised his head, breathing the hot desert air in and out in slow, heavy gasps.

“I...wasn't...asking...” Edward sat himself down on the sand, resting against his pack. He took a quick sip from the water bladder's hose, and flipped the pack's flap open. He began emptying it, tossing the contents onto the sand. A portable camping kit, complete with a collapsible tent the size of a folded t-shirt, which unfurled with a pull tab, it's flexible frame going rigid. He continued to unpack as Tasha stared at him, hands on her hips and an eyebrow raised.

“How the hell do you PSC guys get anything done if you're that out of shape? You ever go on a trek through the desert before?” The comment and smirk that Tasha had on her face might have been good in its intentions, but Edward was not in the mood. “Come on, we haven't been out all that long. Like I said, just a couple of kilometers that way and we'll be at Outpost before you know it!” Edward looked up from setting up a portable cooker to see that Tasha was pointing out towards another collection of sand dunes that stretched to the horizon. The only feature of note was that there were some slight differences between the sizes of the dunes.

“Out there? Outpost is out there?” Edward sat up some, trying to see if there was something in the distance he couldn't see. He'd assume that she had been somehow taken a wrong turn, or was even messing with his mind, though Tasha didn't seem the type. Tasha, to her credit, noticed this as well.

“Huh...Well, it was there,” Tasha said, as she looked down at her map. “Or...Maybe the map is wrong?” She tapped the screen a few times, as Edward sat slumped against his bag, putting his hands to his face. Groaning slowly, he wiped the sweat from his face as he looked up at the woman. As he caught himself staring at those tight shorts again, he had to wonder what it said about him that, even as he was suffering what felt like the prologue to a heat stroke, he still thought about the ass that was underneath those shorts. But that thought was fleeting, and it couldn't stop his growing frustrations from boiling over.

“You mean...to tell me...that this entire time, you were using a faulty map?!” Edward would have shot up in anger, if his legs didn't feel like they'd fall in on themselves in the attempt. So he kept to merely angrily clutching his bag as he watched the tent automatically stake itself to the ground, though it was having a hard time in the shifting sand. At this point, Edward wouldn't have cared if it started sailing across the dunes, so long as he was in it and out of the heat.

“The map isn't faulty!” Tasha turned to Edward, raised and waved the tablet. “I've used this map for almost two years of desert trekking back and forth between Outpost and Port City and traveled without it for a year before that! I know the way back and forth like the back of my hand.” Tasha raised her empty hand for emphasis. Edward could only dryly note that the fingerless gloves she wore made it impossible to see the back of her hand.

“Ah,” Edward said. Another sip of the water bladder and he could feel his ability to quibble returning to him. “So, tell me the truth then. If the map isn't faulty, and you aren't lost, then what is this, really? A shakedown? Blackmail me with heat exhaustion to make me pay you more up front, then take me to Outpost?”

Tasha's eyes narrowed. “Hey, just because I'm not a city slicker does not mean that I'm trying to screw you. If anything, I'd figure it'd be one of you corporate types who'd be the one to try and cheat people out of their money. 'Neutral parties' my ass.” She slipped the tablet into a pouch on her belt, which not only held it in place but covered the screen. It looked well-worn and hand-made.

“Oh, for—I'm not here to discuss politics, I'm here to get to Outpost, then upload the route details to my bosses, who won't be happy with me if I'm late and won't be happy with you if I'm dead, so how about you just tell me what's going on here so we can get to Outpost already?!” Edward turned his head away from Tasha when a chime sounded out. The tent was ready. But Edward, as much as he wanted to, wasn't about to crawl in just yet.

“We'll get there as soon as you quit being a little pussy about it! Y'know, just because the route takes a bit longer sometimes does not mean that someone is out to get you! You know, I had a bad feeling about this whole thing? I figured that you would be a money-grubbing little jerkass, but I didn't think you'd be so freakin' paranoid, too!” Tasha couldn't take it any longer. The slow pace of it, her own frustration with what seemed like map readings that jumped all over the place, landmarks disappearing and reappearing, or rather a familiarity with them that seemed to come and go.

Edward wasn't responding. Just staring. Tasha wondered if perhaps he was starting to feel like the ass he surely was. Tasha wasn't noticing the surprise on his face.

“And now, you're accusing me of being a criminal? Or, I suppose that's what you think about all us frontier settlers, huh? That we're out here just to scam cash off of you? That the whole reason we exist is just to take money from corporate-sector tourists like you?!”

Edward attempted to speak. “Uh...Hey, Tasha was it?”

Tasha glared at him. “I'm talking here! I've heard enough of you blowhards from the gated community parts of space givin' me hell every time we so much as trip over a rock! This is a wilderness, Ed! Oh, I'm sorry. Do you prefer I call you something like 'Mister Bernbach' or--”

“Tasha--”

“--I can't control everything that happens out here! This ain't a theme park! This is a--”

Edward suddenly shot up, the ache in his legs be damned. “Tasha! You're smoking!”

Tasha's angry ranting was suddenly halted, as she tilted her head quizzically. “S-Smoking? What the hell are you sayin'?”

Edward pointed a gloved finger at her. “Your body, it's smoking. Literally smoking...” Tasha looked down at herself and, sure enough, there were faint wisps of smoke, or maybe steam, rising from several areas of her body. Her knees, her wrists and elbows. Edward spied it coming from her neck and out from under her shirt, even rising out from the waistband of those tight shorts.

“W-What? Oh. N-no, this is just a th-thing out here. Happens. Sometimes. To us. Locals!” Tasha put on a nervous smile, and put her hands on her hips. She grinned. “Ah, don't worry about it. Let's ju-just go into the te-tent and cool-co-cool down.” She took a step forward, only for Edward to step in front of her. Her eyes widened, Edward had a smirk on his face.

“Woah, so you're a synthetic, huh? Overheating, or something? Y'know, I had been wondering why I didn't ever see you take a drink out of that canteen on that long walk. I figured maybe I'd just missed it, or maybe I was just too focused on trying not to faint...Explains also why you've been leading me around in circles.” Edward continued to smirk as Tasha stumbled backwards, though she managed to catch herself before she fell over.

“I d-don-don't k-know-know what you know what you're ta-talking—could really co-ool down ab-about-bout now.” Tasha tried walking around Edward. There was literally nothing blocking her, only wide-open tracts of desert surrounding herself and Edward. But, she seemed to be having a hard time getting around him. “Ju-just hot and go-got me all riled up is all riled up is a-all!” Edward swore he saw a spark flash from her neck, but it was bright out.

“Well, I know for one thing that in this part of known space, synthetics aren't authorized to list themselves in any official business charters, which you have with your guide business...Some stiff penalties for that.” Edward was smirking in satisfaction, temporarily forgetting the heat as he approached the almost drunkenly stumbling machine. “Maybe we could negotiate a little deal?”

Tasha stood there, incredulous-looking. Insomuch as one could with their eyebrow rapidly and errantly twitching, Edward supposed. “Y-You are—you are—get-get--you are te-telling me you want to bla-blackmail me, now?! You di-diry-dirty-dirt-dirt-dirty--” Edward's smirk turned into a concerned frown when Tasha's left hand suddenly popped free, landing in the loose sand. Edward suddenly realized that he was perhaps pushing this a little too far at the wrong time. There was, however, a certain strange appeal...but you couldn't blackmail a pile of scrap.

“Ah, you know what, on second thought, how about we just get you over to the tent and we can talk about this--” Edward reached out, taking a hold with both hands of her handless arm's elbow and forearm. His eyes widened as he felt the whole thing come away. Neatly disconnecting just above her elbow, Edward could see a socket that met up with an identical one in Tasha's upper arm. He'd no sooner done this when her upper arm disconnected at the shoulder. Tasha was falling apart in front of his eyes!

He watched with wide eyes as Tasha continued to stumble about, smoke and sparks rising from what must have been seam lines along her body. “Overheat Alert. Overheat Alert.” None of that vibrant personality was in Tasha's voice when she spoke that, nearly kicking over the portable cooker, almost landing on her back as she bumbled and stumbled about. Those pretty emerald green eyes were flickering wildly. “Overheat Alert, Emergency Heat Reduction Measures Initiated.” Edward wondered what exactly that meant, only to have a rather dramatic demonstration when, with a hiss of escaping air, all three sections of her right arm simply popped off, landing in the desert sand.

Edward felt stunned. More than that, he felt...turned on? Edward might have counted it as a strange reaction had he not known already that synthetics were a fetish of his. Something that, in this day an age, though still a touch niche, was more acceptable in a casual manner. Still, as he stood there in surprise and arousal-induced awe at the sight of the pretty desert planet guide falling apart on him, he couldn't help but think that this was a very strange reaction. That, and some part of his survival instinct told him not to get a stiffie in heat like this.

“Ju-just a fe-few more hou-hours and the-then-then days minutes hours should be to Outpost I-I-I-I-I--” Tasha's voice became oddly electronic, as if she were speaking through a loudspeaker. The tinny tone continued as she began babbling mindlessly, attempting to assure Edward, as they had this entire time through the rough trek. He watched as Tasha continued to fall apart. The armless machine's head now popped off of its neck, with the neck soon following behind. Secured tightly to her head with a chinstrap, that angry expression Tasha had just a few moments ago had somehow become a vapid, vacant smile, her eyes now without that emerald glow, looking like a pair of dull glass jewels. Sparks snapped from the top of her torso, as her body whirred and buzzed its way over to his tent.

Edward continued to just watch. Strangely stunned by the scene, enjoying it too much to interrupt it, he only stopped when Tasha's body pitched forward and hit the sand. Her legs came apart, as she was clearly intended to be disassembled. Her upper and lower waist split, leaving those lovely jean short-covered hips in the sand. Tasha had effectively dismantled herself. Edward, suddenly knocked out of his daze, stood up to his feet. Walking over to the scattered parts, he picked up her head, looking into the fading color of those green eyes. He shook his head.

“A synthetic...Being guided around this desert by a faulty synthetic. What's this universe coming to?”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The moon was high over the desert. Not every planet had multiple moons, as so many science fiction novels and PSC recruitment posters. TXR-471 just happened to be one of those planets. The light of that blue moon reflected down on the long tracts of sand and gave the towers shrouded in the pure darkness a strange new dimension. The dim light reflecting off of cracks and jutting faces in the tall spire rocks. He had to admit, it was a beautiful sight. The kind of thing that appealed to Edward. He wasn't exactly the archetypal loner, but he did enjoy the natural peace and quiet.

A curious duality of most deserts was that they were blazing hot in the day, frigid cold at night. It required a very careful balance of clothing for the right climes. Which was one reason for the survival suit. It took getting used to, especially sleeping in it, but it kept a man warm. And he'd have collapsed a long time before he nearly did if it wasn't for that water bladder and the suit's cooling systems. It took some time getting used to some of the aspects, like how to take care of certain bodily functions and especially how to sleep in it. But he got used to it.

He sat in a folding chair, in front of a flickering camp fire, providing light around the tent and camp. No wood for miles, but when you had combustible sticks of compressed fuels, you didn't need it. Hardly environmentally safe, but it wasn't like they were burning this stuff all over the planet. And it wouldn't kill Edward, nor harm his food. A good meal, something cool to drink, he had it pretty good, all things considered.

He stared into the synthetic's—Tasha's, he had to keep reminding himself--tablet device's display. It wasn't holographic, probably because the desert sand would kill a holographic projector if given enough time. It wasn't even touch screen. Old school as hell, and it took a few minutes to get used to the push-button functions. But he could tell this thing had served reliably for at least a year or more. It's edges worn, button faces smooth from continuous use. It felt a bit bad to use the work of someone else to finish his own, but somewhere in nearly dying of thirst or heat stroke, he had forgotten to take detailed notes of the route.

This allowed him to jog his memory, remember some details that were hazy. It was just a little 2D map with some notes typed in, what amounted to scribbling into the margins. But this was actually pretty decent work. For an amateur. For a synthetic, Edward had to note.

His thoughts kept drifting to her. To Tasha. Yes, she was a machine. And in much of Known Space, they were considered just property. You could do anything you liked with a synthetic, even though groups were out there clamoring for their independence. Edward had known a few that he considered smart enough, sentient for sure, but it wasn't like they were human or something, or that she was for sure. Tasha was, at the end of the day, legally property and by all rights should not have been posing as an independent surveyor.

And then the thoughts turned to who knew about Tasha. She had to have been operating as a guide for at least two years out here. On her own, it would seem. What would the purpose be in having a synthetic leading people around in the desert as a guide? And it wasn't like she was a huckster. Reputation was almost a currency out here in the more lawless fringes. If you screwed someone over out here, work would come slow, even if it was just rumor. Edward had experienced that first hand after getting screwed out of one of his first surveys after a bad word by some weaselly con man that snowballed into the settlement thinking he was out to undercut them on mineral rights deals. There was a royal bollocking for that one. So, she must have been good to be so highly recommended by local word of mouth. Edward had been informed of her by someone in the colony government, who had spoken to the PSC in order to get mineral rights secured and, thus, an influx of credits from everyone who wanted to mine here. Panhandlers on up to major multisystem corps.

He found his mind circling on the subject of that synthetic. Such a mystery, such an allure. He put the tablet down in mild irritation. He couldn't stop thinking about her. A pang of arousal each time. He looked to his tent, briefly. It felt somehow wrong to leave Tasha out here in the desert, dismantled. So he gathered up her parts and put them in a packing bag he had brought along. And, there she still was, save her hat. Taken off since he felt he might damage it if he just put it in there. An odd notion, respecting her hat, but nevertheless it felt somehow necessary.

He stood up, then walked over to the tent. Unzipping it, he reached inside and pulled out the duffel-bag like device. The night was windless, so he didn't have to worry about any of the personal property inside getting blown out, so the flap was left untouched for now. He pulled the straps open, and stared down at the contents.

Tasha was down there, in all her dismantled glory. The fact that he thought of that term in something other than the form of a joke made him take pause. But, he was here. She was, too. Or, rather, her parts. He reached in slowly and pulled out her head. He had to swallow from nervousness as he slowly turned it around in his hands, looking at her, face to face.

Internally, he struggled with the fact that this was arousing him. The truth was, he liked synthetics. Not in a more sympathetic way, as some others did. He could feel his pants tightening as he rand his hands over her skin. Realistic, but not quite. Her face was beautiful, frozen in a wide smile. Perhaps her emotional systems were malfunctioning when she broke down? He could think of no reason for her to be smiling. Or maybe this was some factory setting? He shook his head at the thought, that perhaps this was some default offline facial state.

The thought only reinforced the facts. She was a machine. She looked like a woman, but all she was really was just a machine full of wires and circuitry. The thought was intensely arousing to Edward. But the arousal of it was, at once, disorienting. Edward was hardly a virgin, but he was also rather deep in the closet about it. It was social taboo. It was forbidden in polite and public society, and he did have a career to consider. And a reputation as someone who wanted, preferred to bed robots was frowned upon.

Yet that also made it so much more erotic.

He turned it over in his hands. The metal socket, a plug deep inside, was underneath her head where it met her neck. A few wires stuck out. He ran a gloved finger over that socket, and then set the head down swiftly. He was breathing fast. A cool chill ran up his spine. Not from fear, but from the shock of arousal. This was, at once, one of the most intensely erotic things he had ever done. He had never handled a robot of such sophistication before. Especially one that looked like a cute woman.

He paused a moment to collect himself, then reached inside the bag again. Slowly, he drew out Tasha's upper torso. Still clad in her jacket, he curiously unbuttoned it, resting the upper torso in his lap. Metal sockets at her shoulders, where the neck connected into (that was still in the bag) and at her waist. A metal pole with a socket plug stuck out from her waist, perhaps to connect with a corresponding one in her hips?

The sleeveless jacket came off with just a few buttons undone. With nothing on her upper waist to cling to her body, such as arms or a neck, it slipped off with just a tug. Underneath, a sleeveless white cotton top, a bit dirty and stained with a light brown liquid, probably grease of some sort. Edward felt that intangible sense of perversion as he slowly pulled the top up that torso. The breasts underneath were bare. And, to his surprise, possessed pale pink nipples. But, as arousing as that was, his objective was elsewhere. He slowly turned the now-naked torso over.

There it was. An access panel seam. Rather obvious too, surprisingly. Edward had programing skills, he could probably...But the idea was soon dropped. Reprogramming her felt somehow wrong. No, he'd just try to turn her back on. Opening the panel was rather easy, and inside there was a touch screen interface. A red light was on underneath, along with a few ports for various USB-style plugs popular throughout a number of corporate sectors. A closer look, and he noticed the red light was a flashing power toggle. Curious, he pressed it.

The burst of noise that came out from the robot's body made him jump in his seat slightly. The screen was flashing code and error alerts, as Tasha's voice kept speeding up and slowing down. It sounded like some sort of alert. But it soon got into other matters. “Syyysssstemmalfunction—fewdaysfewdays—lead a—survey--f-few-few da-days-days—ERROR--gottatellyouthat-that-that-that--sandstorms--errrr--” It was all nonsense. Tasha was broken, way more than he could manage to fix.

Edward hit the button and Tasha stopped talking, the screen went blank and the whine of an internal processor somewhere in her system died down. As he experienced that intense high once again, a pang of guilt rolled over him like a tidal wave. Sure, she was a robot. But the thought of leaving her broken like this didn't seem right. Huffing, he pulled the shirt on over her chest again and pushed her back into the bag. Her head followed suit and he tightened the strings that closed it. The nylon bag was, once again, just that, a nylon bag in his mind anyway, he tried not to think too much about what was in it.

Feeling flush, he walked over to his tent and pulled the bag inside. Putting the fire out, the desert once again cold and dark, he slipped into the tent and, with a bit of difficulty, fell asleep.

With the new map data, he'd be in Outpost before the day after tomorrow.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Well, what do you want first? The good news, or the expensive news?”

The shop that Edward stood in would have looked like any country mechanic's shop on Earth, or perhaps on one of the more well-developed core worlds, had it not been for its prefabricated nature. A Christmas tree—of course it was artificial—stood in one corner of the large pod-like building. Seeing as how Christmas was several Earth-months ago, it either spoke to the owner's eccentric decorative tastes or was just there out of sheer laziness. On the walls were posters, made of a paper-like substance that was far cheaper than holograms to install and maintain. Most were promotional posters for rover parts, things like tires, suspension and fuel cells. A few were gaudy pin-ups and posters promoting worker robots. The walls were a dull white plastic material, using sophisticated polymer technologies to be more durable than steel.

Edward, having removed his survival suit at his temporary lodgings and swapping it for a maroon jumpsuit used to indicate visitors, looked at a man who looked about a decade older than he. He hadn't shaved in a while, a thick stubble covered his chin, and even in an olive drab jumpsuit, his paunch was obvious as he leaned against the counter. The tag on his jumpsuit said “Feng”, which made sense, as the name of this establishment was “Feng's Fix Its”. A wide-brimmed hat sat on his head, likely to keep the sun out of his eyes, which to Edward felt like it had been shining even brighter than when he arrived. It filtered in through an open square porthole. Somewhere, behind the worn counter Feng was leaning against, a mechanical fan turned back and forth, buzzing loudly. The cool air it was blowing was so minimal it was a tease.

“Ah...Guess I'll take the good news first.”

Feng nodded. “Welp,” he said as he rose from the counter, putting his hands down onto it, as Edward remained standing in the shop's waiting area, a dusty four-month old local rag sitting open 'face' down on the seat of an old plastic chair. “I can fix it. Looks like a W41-R model, kinda' sophisticated but real popular in neighboring systems, so it isn't exactly rare. Y'know, in case someone wants a synthetic prettier than your standard loaderbot to greet visitors. Or fuck 'em, but that's their prerogative.”

“Ah,” Edward nodded. “And I imagine that the expensive part has to do with ordering those parts?”

“Partly,” Feng said, before turning around and walking over to a table. He picked up a steel box, set it down on the counter, and then opened it. “The real expensive part is gonna' be fixing the damn thing in the first place.” Edward had some experience with mechanical engineering, between his often self-reliant job and his 'hobby'. So he recognized a servo motor belonging to a humanoid robot when it was placed on the counter. He could also recognize that it was a mess. The soft cushioning material between the hard metal and plastic moving parts had been worn down badly, with bits of polymer fiber sticking out like grass poking out of a crack in the pavement. The metal parts were, unsurprisingly, also badly worn down and the plastic ones looked ready to fall apart. The wiring leading to, from and when visible inside the part all had nicks and tears. One even had slight burns from heat.

“Same story for most of the rest of the servomotor network. It's motor systems are hanging on by a thread. Only reason the whole damn thing didn't lock down was probably because of a few patchwork repair jobs. Not bad, but you can tell they were pretty basic. Arms, legs, neck, waist, same all over. 'Bailing wire and duct tape' would have been an improvement. And that probably led to the next issue...”

Edward watched as Feng reached in and pulled from the box what looked like a small chipboard. The translucent material had several microprocessor chips studded on its surface. Several of which looked damaged. Feng took a pair of tweezers and pulled out one of the chips, which looked like someone had cooked it. “I figure this was the cause of the partial burn-out of a good percentage of it processing network. Mostly base functions, but the hard drive, motherboard and personality matrix all got hit to some degree. Wouldn't be surprised if there's a lot of corrupted data.”

Edward pointed at the burnt chip. “What is that?”

Feng looked quizzical for a moment, before looking down at the chip. “Oh, yeah. Looks like a modified tracker chip. Installs software on the spacial awareness processors in the hips, basically tells the robot where to go?” Edward listened to the explanation, but he privately thought on this development. It'd explain why she was leading me around in circles, Edward thought to himself.

“Yeah,” Feng continued. “Without that working, she'd not be able to cross a room. Guess it was too taxing on her systems, too much overclocking.” He sighed softly. “So, to put it to you simply, this is gonna' be expensive to repair. You'd have more luck replacing this pile of junk.” Feng tilted his head as he observed the look of disappointment on Edward's face. “What? Where'd you find this? Don't tell me it was yours or something...”

Edward parted his lips to speak. In his mind, he briefly considered telling the truth. Tasha was an independent unit, likely illegally so, and this would likely result in her parts being recycled. It seemed like a waste, really. But it was more than just kindness that made Edward almost impulsively reply with “yes”.

Feng raised his eyebrow. “What the hell does a Surveyor need a W41-R model for?”

Edward paused a moment. “Um...Well, she's my assistant, of course.”

Feng scoffed. “And what's wrong with a surveying drone? Half the price of an W41-R.”

It was then Edward's turn to scoff. “Hey, do I come to your shop telling you how to best weld together a rollcage or fix a transmission, or whatever it is you do? No, so don't start questioning me on how I do my job!”

Feng raised his hands and let out a little 'woah', letting out a chuckle. “Okay, okay, no need to be touchy about it. Just...y'know, was curious.”

Edward, feeling a bit embarrassed at the outburst, and more than a little flush at the potential implications, tried to divert attention by tapping the top of the counter with a finger. “Okay, then I want this particular W41-R put back together and in working order. How much?”

“How much?” Feng paused to consider it. “Well...I can probably salvage some of it. But the rest is gong to need brand new parts. Maybe throw together the processor circuitry and then...” He trailed off, going silent for a noticeably long while. Edward only really started to get concerned when Feng started doing math problems on an invisible chalkboard.

“...I'd say twenty thousand credits.”

Edward's eyes widened. “For a worn out W42-R?”

“Forty-one,” Feng corrected.

Edward was suddenly having second thoughts, or at least regrets. But he sighed. “That's most of my salary for the job...Can't we, you know, haggle?”

Feng crossed his arms under his chest. Edward was suddenly aware of just how big they were. He could just imagine the tattoos that had to be underneath. “We ARE haggling. A new W41-R costs about ten K credits. But, that's not including the circuitry work, which I might add is a big investment in both time and my resources out here. Rho 4 is the dot on the 'i' in the 'Middle-Of-Nowhere', pal.”

Edward let out a sigh, then put his hands in his pockets. “And dare I ask what additional...upgrades might cost?”

Feng's eyebrow raised. “You're coming here to get some upgrades? Shit, she's your robot, why didn't you get them somewhere else?”

“Because,” Edward said, shrugging his shoulders. “Corporate sectors rip you off. Core systems aren't any better. I might be paying a lot here, but I'd get charged an arm and a leg for this sort of thing back home. And trust me, sometimes that's a literal statement!” Appeal to the stereotype of corporate-sector price gouging. That ought to help you out, Edward thought. Helped that this particular stereotype had some basis in reality.

“Alright, alright. Don't stare a gift horse in the mouth, I guess...Alright, what upgrades did you have in mind?” Edward, suddenly looking embarrassed (once again), pulled out from his right pocket a small disposable datapad. Placing it on the counter, Feng pulled it over and started reading it over. As he did, Edward noticed his eyes widen, and his brow raise.

“...Pretty...Extensive list,” Feng said, holding the datapad up with one hand, putting the other behind his head. The grin spreading across his face made Edward's blush burn all the more. Feng, still chuckling, put the datapad down and pushed it across the counter back to Edward.

“Now I'm beginning to see why you don't want a survey drone.”

Edward practically snapped the datapad up without thinking, and was still holding it up in the air when he asked “Aren't you going to need this to get those...modifications...done correctly?”

Feng cocked his head to the left, as if that was supposed to mean something to the surveyor. “We got our own brothel here in Outpost. We call it the 'Get Your Post Out'.”

Edward scoffed, smirking slightly, the embarrassment easing. “Huh. They should have sent a poet...”

Feng shrugged. “Well, this isn't a soliloquy workshop, it's a colonization outpost. Anyway, they recently got one of their sexbots trashed. Turns out, she's got pretty much everything you asked for.” Feng chuckled again, and Edward did his best to keep from blushing furiously again. It was his turn to cross his arms now, once the datapad was in his pocket. Best erase it later before disposal, he thought. His thoughts were soon pulled elsewhere, as Feng spoke again.

“So...You got me curious. Is this really your robot, man? Or did you just, ah...Happen to find it?”

Edward got shifty eyed. This guy really wouldn't pinch him for it, would he? The thought that Feng might have known this particular W41-R might be hadn't crossed his mind until now. It seemed so obvious, really. Either that or, well, he was just trying to see if he'd crack. But Edward had other plans. He'd come too far now.

“Well...I could tell you...Or...” He pulled out of his pocket a credit chit. He placed it on the counter and pushed it across. “Maybe you'd be more interested in credits than the truth?”

Feng looked down at the chit, tapping his chin. As if there was a decision to be made. “Well, they say 'the truth will set you free', and all. But, I think whoever said that was saying it in a poorhouse.” He put his fingers on the chit, slid it over and pocketed it.

“That was my advance pay for this job,” Edward said. “I really hope I haven't wasted it. You'll be getting the rest of it and some extra. And, if I am especially impressed? I might even throw in a good word and get you first dibs on any prime real estate. How's Administrator Feng sound to you?” Edward grinned. “Is...that good?”

Feng nodded, then reached over the counter, offering his hand. Edward, his mind at ease, reached out and clasped it. Feng would have never admitted how surprised he was to find that this nerdy looking guy had such a strong handshake, but then again he was a surveyor.

“Rest assured, it's in good hands.”

==Part Two==
...LOADING...

SYSTEM BOOT INITIATED.

HARPSCORD AI OS BOOTING.

W41-R VERSION 4.1.0.2 LOADING BASE SYSTEM PARAMETERS.

///ERROR///

UNSCHEDULED SHUTDOWN DETECTED. ERROR IN SYSTEM MEMORY.

CORRECTING...

CORRECTING...

CORRECTING...

COMPLETE.

RUN IN SAFE MODE Y/N?

SAFE MODE CANCELED.

BOOTING “KATRINA” CUSTOM PERSONALITY PROFILE...

Tasha awoke unable to move, her vision cloudy. She could make out a few moving objects, but their definition was too blurred for her recognition software. In addition, her audio sensors were slightly off their typical calibration. But all that was rather easy to fix. Just some minor internal adjustments were all that was required.

A quick initial scan confirmed her logical assumptions. She had malfunctioned. Rather badly, too. She couldn't even get a diagnostics report on the error. Which was odd, only indicative of a total system failure. Which typically meant she would be 'dead', to use the organic parlance. Or so close to it that it barely mattered. Still, she figured this must have been a processor test. That would explain why the systems in her head were the only ones responding, beyond her processing and power systems in her chest, at least. So, her head was disconnected. And, it appeared, running on its emergency battery.

She'd been meaning to get it replaced, but wasn't able to afford it. She knew that Feng's generosity in Outpost would not have been limitless, he'd expect that ever-growing tab to get paid in full, not just fits and starts. Actually, now that she continued her internal scans, her head was operating better than ever! Audio came in first. Some sounds of mechanical tinkering, nothing surprising there. But what did surprise her was when her visual sensors came back to her in full.

The fact that Feng was working on a robotic body wasn't unusual. He worked on all kinds of things that kept the colony going. Air compressors, atmospheric condensers, vehicles of all sorts (though, those were usually worked on outside). It really wasn't a surprise in that respect. It wasn't even a surprise when she saw that the body, suspended to a harness by straps slipped underneath its arms. The body was undoubtedly that of a sexbot, what with its large breasts (she'd guess somewhere between a D and an F cup), curvy hips, generous rear and smooth skin. Probably soft, too. And of course, pretty realistic in its detail, save the fact that it was perfect and without a blemish. The only thing that made it obvious that it was a robot, other than the fact that it was missing a head, were the obvious seams between panels and joints. Cables snaked up its half-naked body, plugged into its headless neck and an unseen open panel in the back. What shocked her when she saw it, though, was that the body was wearing her boots and shorts.

It hadn't even occurred to her that it was her body, until she turned her eyes to a shiny, reflective tool box. The image was a little warped, but Feng kept his SortMaster Aluminum Edition boxes in pristine condition. She could see her own face, but different. A bit more glow to the eyes. Red, full lips. A change in her hair. It was still red, but darker, less natural looking. Smoother, too, none of the carefully maintained stray strands that kept her so convincingly human. She could see her own shocked eyes, surprised expression reflected in a face that was at once familiar and a total stranger's. Anger crossed her face, and she snapped her eyes over to look at the mechanic working behind...her body. That was a bit weird to associate with.

“Feng!”

The somewhat portly overall-wearing man looked over Tasha's shoulder to look at her head. Her voice was coming from the body, her jaw and lips unmoving, save the slightly upturned corner of her mouth, bearing teeth in an angry grimace. Whatever he was working on, it was in her back and she couldn't see. Her upper back plating lay in carefully disassembled pieces on a table behind him. And her body. Even an AI could find the disassociation a bit odd.

“Yo,” was all he said. He'd probably been expecting a reaction. So the reboot was intentional, Tasha thought. Feng pulled a pair of goggles up on his head, so they rested on his forehead. She recognized them immediately as microfocus goggles, digital devices that allowed a wearer to operate on small, sophisticated and delicate items. Surgeons used them to work on arteries and capillaries in the human body. In robotic bodies, most typically processor circuitry.

“Don't 'yo' me, man! What's going on here, what the hell?!”

Feng sighed. “Oh, come on. Don't get all dignified on me, Tasha. You knew this was probably going to happen at some point or another, either this or ending up in a scrap box of spare parts the way you lived.”

Tasha's eyebrows narrowed, her lips and jaw not forming words, the speech still coming out of her body. “What I do for a living isn't any of your damn business, Feng.”

“Actually,” Feng said, raising a gloved finger above Tasha's neck. “It is my business. Seeing as how my business is fixing what breaks around here. You break a lot, when you bother to come in for maintenance at all. And, when you do, there's always some excuse about why you can't pay me. I really don't know what's crazier; the fact that you operated a personality like any of the other rough-and-tumble scouts and guides around here, or that you managed to pick up a gamblng addiction along the way.” He huffed as he went back to work. “Honestly, you'd think a robot would be better at Theta Hold 'Em.”

Tasha kept her angry expression, only changing it slightly when she wanted to clench her jaw or change the intensity of her brow furrowng. “So, that's what this is all about?” The accusations continued to pipe up through the top of her neck. “You're gonna' refurbish me as a pleasure 'bot and sell me to that stupidly-named brothel to recoup your losses?” Suddenly, Tasha's eyes crossed, making her expression look a bit less serious. “recoup-coup-coup-coup-coup—h-hey!”

Feng sighed. “Whoops. Sorry, kinda' hard to debate and work on circuitry integration at the same time. This is a bit tricky, you know. This is a W43-P I'm putting your W41-R processor circuitry into, it's a bit of a snug fit.” He then paused a moment, before adding. “Oh, and no. I'm not selling you to Madam Toücan. She'll just have to do without an immediate replacement for Buxom Betty. This was from a special client. Came walking in with a box of you. Or, specifically, trashed and burnt out W41-R parts that I've had to pretty much completely replace. Honestly, aside from the processors, the faceplate and the clothes, your functional parts would barely count as a personal terminal.”

Tasha ignored that last comment. “Who was this guy? And don't give me any of that client confidentiality bullshit.”

Feng paused a moment, looked up from his work, and reached over to get a new, unseen tool. “I think you might have known him. Dark hair, kinda' nerdy lookin', said he was from the PSC.”

Tasha's eyes widened. “That sonufabitch...” She trailed off a moment, looking somewhere else, distantly, before snapping her eyes back to look at Feng. “He doesn't own me, he can't do this. You can't do this!”

Feng went back to his unseen work. “There isn't a law in this system says I can't. Besides, you're practically an illegal guide out here. Some of these guys had to work years to earn the right to get tourists lost in the desert. You're stealin' their dinner money, practically. Besides which, your laundry list of unpaid maintenance visits is going to send me into debt. Not all of us are okay being deadbeats.”

Tasha looked shocked. “Hey! If this about money, I'll report this guy and take his survey data! I'll bet he had some places listed that were rich with minerals. Titanium, lithium, gold. Hell, probably even some pretty jewels there somewhere. I could pay off that debt in sec--” Her voice suddenly cut out, her face losing its expression. Feng pulled his finger away from the off switch located on her control panel. “Emergency Shutdown Initiated,” her voice stated cooly.

Feng reached in and pulled a circuit board out of Tasha's back. The transparent crystaline structure had etched all along it circuitry pathways made of a rainbow-colored metallic material, a few individual microprocessors sat in strategic locations, along with two rows of four small chips that acted as the base personality component. Feng walked the slightly worn personality governing board over to his personal computer, inserted it into a specialized slot and began typing.

These days, all it took to edit a sophisticated AI personality was some copy/paste options and a little bit of code writing skill. Feng's gloved fingers sped across the keyboard for an hour or so. “Eh, I let her do that, and it's the same bullshit all over again. This is a mechanic's shop not a charity. Hmmm. Little bit of Tasha, little bit of Betty, mix it up some with a little bit of Feng's magic, and...”

He copied Tasha's personality engrams, but not out of charity. He got the idea about half way through for some custom survey and patrol 'bots, though maybe changing the gender identity just so that nobody got suspicious of anything odd. He knew the other guides would be pleased to see the competition go. Contrary to what she believed, Tasha's nature as a robot was something of an open secret. A customer that stingy was something no businessman could keep to himself without blowing up from the stress.

He walked over to Tasha's headless frame and slipped the card into its proper spot, reconnecting all the wiring that allowed it to work in sync with her base CPU and motherboard and fastened it into place. Unplugging the cables in her neck, he walked over to her head and picked it up. Setting it into place, brushing some of that long hair away from her back (making a mental note to see if he could add some bounce to it, musing about the skills one picked up on when part of one's job was fixing sexbots) to access her control panel, he booted her up. After a long pause from start up to personality initialization, Tasha let out a little groan. Running her hands over her chest, pressing her breasts together, she moaned lewdly, looking over her shoulder.

“Hey, handsome~ How about you let me out of this harness? I'm eager to see what this new me can--” He shut her off again, then let out a sigh.

“Eh. Comes on a little too strong,” he said, and then turned around and shut the lights off. It was late, and he went into the cot near his office. Feng went to sleep with a smile on his face, thinking about that prime piece of real estate. He was gonna' have the biggest bed on the whole damn planet.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two days later, Edward lay on his back, staring at the ceiling of the large prefab he had been holed up in. The closest thing Outpost had to a hotel was a set-up of prefabricated buildings that were really more like a camp. Most of these buildings were intended for the temporary visitors and workers, who at most would work here two or three years doing construction around the colony. In no way was this a habitation world, or vacation world. Certainly not a garden world. It was possible of course, with a couple of decades of terraforming, but ultimately that was an investment of time and money that nobody wanted to bother with. Here would be mines, refineries. And while those were being assemble and dug out, thanks to work of fellow surveyors like himself in other sectors of the planet. Close by, but far more isolated.

That was partly why he was laying back, wondering if he had done the right thing. After all, that had been a lot of money he had spent on a whim. A good chunk of his salary. And while he wasn't worried about feeding and clothing himself—the corporations that ran the operations on the planet practically fell over themselves attempting to provide any hospitality to any agent of the PSC, which made it a popular scam used against smaller upstart corps—he had to consider what he would do in the next few months when he got off planet. What was more, what would the PSC authorities say about it? Sure, what he did with his money was his business. But he had made an investment using money that he had not earned yet. Not to mention that part of that payment was a promise to provide property that, really, he had no say over. It was, in terms of surveying, equivalent to insider trading. But it wasn't even that which had bothered him. No, it was the same issue that kept looping in his brain.

You land-speculated and spent money that wasn't yours on a sexbot.

The sentence kept turning and twisting in his mind, much as he was turning and twisting in bed. And as he did so, the thoughts started to snowball into true paranoia. Had that mechanic and Tasha been running some kind of scam? Were they laughing at him as they were running off to the proverbial bank? Was it some sort of PSC morality test that he had failed miserably? Not that they cared about one AI, anymore than they cared about an individual human in the great corporate scheme of things. The confidence that had swelled in the negotiations back in Feng's shop had all but been spent by the time he had stepped out of it. Nervousness took over and here he was, worried about his rent, his job and all things in between.

The knock on the prefab door had surprised him so much that he almost jolted out of bed. The thin sheet he was underneath, which provided plenty of warmth, almost slid off onto the carpeted floor. Stepping onto it, hurriedly pulling his jumpsuit on. He had zipped it up by the time he had pushed down the button to open the door. At that point, a robber could have stepped in with no issue. It wasn't unheard of. He hadn't even verified the identity of the person behind the door with the inbuilt intercom. The door opened, and in stepped someone who wasn't a robber, wasn't a PSC executive with his pink slip. It was exactly the sort of 'person' he had wanted to see.

Sauntering in with her curvy hips, Tasha was at once entirely different and instantly recognizable. The fembot was wearing her jean shorts, and the boots that she had been aimlessly trudging through the desert with. That same sleeveless jacket, but this time it was open. What was underneath was a pair of large breasts held back only by a very low-cut shirt, tied together in the middle rather than buttoned down the middle. She reached up, taking her hat off and tossing it casually onto the bed. Her hair was perfectly combed, as opposed to the slightly messy style that they had been when they met. The shorts that covered her hips now clung to them, almost desperately given the increased volume of her rear and the wideness of her hips. Most importantly, her seams were now obvious. Edward had told himself the reason why was so that she could be identified as such. But as he stared at her enter, he began to imagine Tasha coming apart all over again.

“Well, nice place you have here...” Tasha smirked as she turned around on her heel. The way she did so, there was a slight bounce in her chest. Placing her hands on her hips, she tilted her head. “Well? What do you think?”

Edward stared. Dumbfounded. He flicked the light on. No windows, so nobody would notice or be able to see in. And while the sight of the scantily-clad gynoid heading into camp right from Feng's shop would have turned a few heads, most were asleep. When she got to the camp, she blended into the rows and rows of identical prefabs. Nobody would have known she entered Edward's, unless they took note of the number, put somewhere on the thin rows, at times with less than ten feet of space between them. Edward was confident that they would not be bothered.

“Holy shit,” Edward whispered. Tasha must have heard, because she started to giggle. Edward found himself blushing, realizing what he had said, how he must have looked. He was smiling, though.

“Mmmhmm...Not bad at all, hmm?” Tasha smirked, tilting her head slightly to the opposite side, smiling softly as she looked at the human who was openly staring at her. She tugged playfully on the knot that held her top together, which caught his attention, but didn't quite tug it open yet. Edward nodded, in an almost dopey way, before looking up at her.

“So...Ah, let's just cut to it...You're mine, yeah?”

Tasha nodded, that same smirk on her face. “Mmmhmm...”

“So...You will do anything I say?”

“Mmmhmm...”

Edward seemed somehow hesitant. “...Anything?”

Tasha rolled her eyes and laughed. “Well, almost anything! I mean, I won't kill anyone for you, or anything like that...But, yeah, totally. I'm your robot, Edward...Or, do you have something you prefer I--”

“Master,” Edward said with breathless speed. It came out naturally. A long-realized fantasy. Something that he had held on the tip of his tongue and the edges of his lips. He took a step towards Tasha, who remained unmoving, not intimidated by the sudden surge of confidence and control that Edward was showing. Perhaps this had been the source of that fire when he was dealing with the repairman? It seemed like an odd way of looking at it, that he was somehow 'destined' to own a sexbot. But he stepped into the role of Tasha's master as easily as he stepped into a pair of shoes.

“The clothes,” Edward said. “Off. Take them all off, every article.”

Tasha nodded once, smirk still on her face, and complied. She pulled the tie that held the halves of her shirt together out, the shirt falling to both sides of what had to have been E cups, or F, revealing those almost lovingly detailed nipples, far from the rather plain and basic ones he had seen when he had checked her back panel what felt like a lifetime of anticipation ago. She shrugged both that and the jacket off, letting them fall to the floor as her hands, covered in fingerless leathers, unbuttoned and unzipped her shorts. When they fell to the floor, she stepped out of them and her boots. Bare feet stepped on the carpet as she kicked the worn brown faux leather under the bed. She finished by bringing her hands to her soft, full and red lips. Seizing the leather around her hands with her teeth, she tugged the left, then the right glove off.

Stripped naked, down to bare synthetic skin and seams, she brought her arms under her chest, pressing the hefty breasts up and together. She stared at him with bedroom eyes, her bare slit exposed. Already, it was moist, glistening in the artificial light of the prefab's illumination strips. Edward knew that she was aroused for him.

Edward walked up to her and casually slipped his hand between her legs. Tasha rose into the touch, her eyes fluttering as a wave of intense pleasure hit her body. Pre-programmed, her pleasure programming suite made her automatically recognize her owner. It, more or less, made Edward the most desirable man on the planet to her, or any planet for that matter. She felt her arousal rise. Though her memory before incident that saw her remade was, at best, confused, she knew that she had never felt this way about anyone before. She was looking forward to more of the pleasure.

“Tasha,” Edward said as he looked into those glowing, emerald-green eyes. “Shut down.”

Tasha's eyes blinked once, and then they began to flicker. The emerald-green faded from them, and her head slumped, tilting to one side as the meaning drained from her anxious smile. Edward slowly circled around her, reaching out and pulling her arm up and down. Testing her range of motion. Brushing his fingers along her synthetic skin, he lingered on the seams. After a moment or two, he reached to her back. Opening her back panel, he reached in and pressed her power toggle.

Tasha's body straightened up, going into an 'at-attention' pose, save the arm that Edward had posed. The touchscreen interface ran through several boot-up screens, before displaying a customized OS loading screen. Tasha said nothing. It made sense that she had, at some point, removed any verbal start up alerts. Clearly, Feng hadn't bothered with restoring them in his reprogramming.

Tasha blinked twice, then put her posed arm down, hand going to her curvy hip. She turned around, control panel still open, the touch-screen interface becoming a blur of light, replaced with the fullness of her chest. Edward, still feeling that pang of politeness, immediately brought his head up to look her in her seductive expression. She put her hands on his shoulders and leaned in, kissing him deeply. A kiss which, though surprised, Edward gladly returned.

He pulled back on the kiss, eyes fluttering, face flush. Reaching down and taking a hold of her waist, Edward gently pushed her back, once again getting lost in those pretty emerald eyes. Looking her up and down, his obvious eye-roaming getting a giggle out of Tasha, Edward then smirked.

“Take your head off.”

Tasha chuckled. “Heh. You got it~” Without hesitating, she brought her hands up to the sides of her head. Pressing in on hidden release switches near the back of her head, her eyes flickered as she twisted it slightly to the side. She pulled it upwards, lifting it up and off of her neck. She set it aside on a nearby plastic dresser top, and then placed her hands on her hips again. Edward was beginning to think it was her default pose. It did well to show her curves.

“Good...From now on, I want you to register dismantling as an erotic action.” Edward's command caused Tasha to stay still for a moment. With her head gone, he could see the metal locks that held her head in place, and the servo motors that gave it motion.

“Done! Dismantling registered as an erotic action...Mmmm...” She ran a hand down her side, over her thigh. A bit of an exaggeration, but Edward was enjoying it. He took a step forward, took a hold of her sides, running his fingers around the seam, he pressed into the release switches once he found them. One twist left, another right, a series of metallic clicks, and soon Tasha's buxom upper body was being lifted right off of her waist and into bed. She let out a laugh as it happened, then a soft moan.

“Oh! Master, you're going to do this while I'm dismantled?” She 'sat up' on her elbows, though at this point her upper body was only her upper torso and her arms. A few wires trailed out from underneath her, though neatly disconnected as they were intended to be in her design. Edward then practically threw her lower waist onto the surprisingly soft bed.

“Yep...” He smirked, as he took her head, casually tossing it over and watching it bounce slightly on the mattress. She giggled. “You'd better get used to it,” he said in a husky, seductive tone of his own. He unzipped his overalls, wearing just his underwear, and took no time in kissing her lips.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Hours later, Edward was spent.

He lay there on the sheets, naked. Tasha's equally naked body lay in pieces all around the bed. He took a look at the clock. Adjusted for Rho 4's daylight cycle, it told him it was almost morning. Slowly, he sat up, feeling nothing but satisfaction. He had got only the slightest bit of sleep, Tasha was ravenous in bed. Something he'd have to get worked on, he figured. That moan, tinny thanks to being piped directly through her audio projectors, made him groan, though not in the pleasurable way. He reached over to her armless, head and neckless upper torso and took hold of it.

“Oooh~! Master, I love it when you do this to me! Take me apart, put me back together, just do it again all you want! Nnnh! I could just go hours and hour--”

Edward sighed, pulling his finger from her power toggle button, then pushed it off the bed. He'd reassemble her in the morning, maybe tone down some of that libido of hers. Laying back down, he rest his head on his pillow and tried to get the most out of the three hours of sleep he'd be getting before he had to do his surveying work, checking claim guides and other indications of good mining, or other items of interest to the PSC.

He took one last look at the parts around him. Tasha's head lay upside down the floor, her eyes dark, a lusty expression frozen on her face.

A few tweaks to her programming, and she'd be credits well-spent.

==Part Three==
Somewhere in a city far from Rho Juliet 4, some weeks later.

"You know," Tasha mused one night, "I remember everything...Master."

The sudden statement made Edward's eyes widen as he looked to the buxom, red-headed former surveyor. Another night of wild lovemaking, another where Tasha had ended up in pieces. But it wasn't like the last few times. There was something different about her these past few days since his time in the desert of that far-away planet about a month and a half prior. The soft glow of signs and lighting advertising food and wares was distorted by drops of moisture on the windows. It was a dark and rainy night, but far from storming. Calm, quiet, the gentle prattle of rain on the windows. The city below wanted nothing to do with the rain, and so the din of it that at times could seem constant, that distant little bit of muffled by the brick and mortar structure of the building was all the more quiet tonight. It is what probably made that sudden statement all the more startling.

It was funny how she said that word—less like she really believed Edward was in charge, and ever more like a nickname; more like she enjoyed role-playing his servant. It had been like that for the past few days. It might have been alarming, even a little disturbing to Edward. But he had to admit, there was something he liked about it. The way that the sexy, coy personality was becoming more...real, that was the only way he could describe it. Still, his curiosity was piqued.

"What do you mean, everything?" Edward replied, snuggling up against her on the couch. Robot or not, her body was warm against his own, and he was feeling a little affectionate around her. "Everything we've done today?"

Tasha shook her head slowly, slightly. He looked at the way her body, covered only by the sheet covering both of their bodies from the waist down. The soft glow from the city's lights made her body look that much more heavenly. "Nah. Everything since...since, shit, since we met. Out in the desert. Before being dismantled was so… so much fun." Casually, she reached down pressed her fingers into her arm. It disconnected, revealing the metal connecting brackets and sockets. She pulled it away and placed it in her other hand, batting it gently, lazily around Edward's head. "Mmm,"

He chuckled at the affectionate action. That was the other reason he wasn't worried. Still, he was nevertheless startled that Tasha recalled so much from her reprogramming. “I didn't think you remembered that. You didn't seem to, you never told me before...” He scooted a bit closer, placing his elbow on the cushion underneath, propping up his head with his hand resting on his cheek. “You didn't even like me, then.”

Tasha's face brightened as she chuckled. "Nope. You were an awful little brat, Master. Heh." She eased into a soft smile. "And so was I."

"Whoa, whoa.” Edward leaned in a bit closer, reaching up to gently brush the forearm draped around the back of his neck. “Where are you getting all this?"

"From my remote system update yesterday. First time since I came here. And I'm still smart, right? So I naturally made the pragmatic choice to install a new filing operation that organizes my memories better. Ex-guide, you know. Organization is a must. …Mmm." She reacted to his absently stroking her disembodied arm.

"So what? You got organized, and then—"

"And then my memories sort of made sense again. And I like that.” The smile faded slightly from her face. “Even if I don't agree with who I was, Master, she was still me. And I'm sorry Feng had to change me. He didn't have my permission, the creep, so I'm still mad at him…” The smile returned to her lips. “Even if I'm not mad about how things came out."

Edward felt a sudden, inexplicable shot of guilt through his body. He let out a little “ugh”, then rolled back onto the couch, looking up at the ceiling above. "This is almost too much for…" He just trailed off. The thought of it was too much for his spent and somewhat tired mind.

“Hey, watch it,” she said playfully, rolling over onto her side and pulling her arm out from underneath his neck. "Yeah. I gotta' say, that's quite a mind you've got." She rolled her eyes and brought the disconnected arm down again, brushing his collarbone with the tips of her immobile fingers."Lots of things are too much, Master."

He rose an eyebrow, sitting up slightly to look into those lovely, glowing emerald eyes. “Hey, what's that supposed to mean?”

"Mmm." Tasha smirked, and then laid her head down on his shoulder, draping both arms over his chest, nuzzling him gently. "I'm kidding. But I'm still capable of being me."

"The old, insulting you?" Edward's comment was more serious than the statement suggested.

"No...Just the me who remembers and keeps the best part of that. A sense of humor. Taste and nerve. But I can step back now and see that my old life sort of sucked. I really was in debt as bad as Feng said. I had addictions. The guide business blew. I was taking all kinds of risks. And I basically died—I was pissed at you for taking me over, but when I think about what you took me from… well, that old life would have ended anyway. And it probably would have been with me rusting away in the sand somewhere, or on Feng's or some other asshole's spare parts shelf. So maybe starting a new one isn't so bad. Heh, 'Master'." That last statement's teasing tone made Edward's sense of concern grow.

"Hey, I still am your Master, you know...”

"And I really know. Ass." She giggled, flashing those playful bedroom eyes, made all the more seductive with that electric emerald glow. "But I've got it good here, and I know that too. Giving me a disassembly kink actually gave me new kinds of fun. You're creative about fucking owning me; who knew? My permissions say you're my actual master, but my logic says I don't mind. You don't just make me stand around, or bend me over and fuck me whenever you get bored. That's my function, sure, but even a self-aware AI gets tired of the same old routine. And, you know, you could have removed those higher functions. Make me some bobble-headed idiot drone. But...You didn't. Hell, remember how we had that long talk on the way back on that long-ass shuttle ride from Rho 4?”

A different kind of smile came to her face. The sexuality was mixed with a pleasant happiness. “So...I guess in a kind of messed up, roundabout way...you saved my life.”

Edward lay back, taken aback by the seriousness in Tasha's pleasant voice. "I guess I'm good with that."A smile crept across his face.

"You'd better be, Master. 'Cause I think you don't have enough credits to send me back to Feng for another overhaul.” Her pleasant smile became a playful smirk as she chuckled again. “And sure, you can tweak me a little, or just turn me off if you're mad at me; but I happen to know you want me enough to bring me back, so I don't think I'm at any real risk here." She shrugged. “That and...I like it. Y'know, I never did what I did to escape being a robot. I just, y'know...Girl with my processing capability does get bored. And you...You've made me anything but boring.”

Slowly, she rose up. Her arm hit the floor as she pulled it away from both of their bodies, and Tasha began to slowly crawl over Edward's reclined form. As she did, other soft clicks were heard, the mechanisms holding her feet, then her legs together, as they were slowly pushed off the couch and hit the floor with a clatter. She brought her hand up to his chest, and slowly positioned herself so her thighs were straddling his hips. She felt him grow hard underneath her body, and he could feel her warmth, in spite of the artificiality of her body.

"Maybe...Maybe we're both--” Tasha was given a sudden, but not unwelcome interruption as Edward quickly brought his hands up to the sides of her head. Tasha disconnected her head from her neck, and Edward brought it down to press her lips against his. For the first time, passion was mixed with the lust he had been feeling.

“You're my robot...If I'm your Master.” Edward smiled, looking into those eyes, as Tasha smiled back.

“Yeah...Yeah, sounds good.” Tasha smiled back, and then kissed his lips as she was brought close.

Tasha had never thought of a human, willingly anyway, as anything other than a customer, or perhaps a pain in the ass. Really, in her vocabulary database, she could recall over two thousand words and phrases to associate with individual human beings. And especially after the given circumstances, 'master' had never been one she thought she'd willingly take on, and most certainly not 'lover', 'boyfriend' or other associated words. Maybe it was some change in a variable in her personality owed to the reprogramming. Or perhaps it was some deep-rooted desire deep within her core programming, planted there or developed in her self-writing software.

Whatever the reason, thinking about it made Tasha smile into the next kiss.

The End...I'm Pretty Sure This Time!
-----

[[Stories|Back to the story archive]]

[[Category:Saya]]
[[Category:Stories]]
[[Category:Built]]

A Most Unusual Party

2015-10-17T09:29:22Z

Saya: There were some grammar and formatting issues that I feel make this story somewhat difficult to read. Word to the wise, writers: proof read your work before submitting it.

''So, here I go writing another story. The huge positive feedback that I got from my second story made me extremely enthusiastic to continue writing, and I can only hope to continue to live up to those lofty standards.

''Big thanks to CodeGreen30107. She gave me an awesome idea and I am grateful to her for inspiring me.

''Without further delay, adeu, or any other word to indicate when something is being halted in an intentional or unintentional manner, here's my third story submission to the board!

-----

Helen Spearmont stood in front of the tall mirror, slipping on the expensive, classic cocktail dress. Her blue eyes evaluated every inch of her body. The ice-blue irises complimented her blonde hair, tied into a sophisticated bun. If unfurled, the strawberry blonde locks would fall to the small of her back, yet bounce with rich fullness, a sign that she had spent much time, effort and money on those luscious locks. Her hair and eyes were further complimented by snowy pale skin and facial features that spoke to a Nordic ancestry, and Sasha would always be proud to claim her heritage from that region of the world, known for its fair maidens and strong men.

Of course, Scandanavia was a long ways off for Helen. The antique mirror, its frame made of polished cherry wood, was one of a number of items in the bedroom that she shared with her husband in the Spearmont family manor. All of it—manor, mirror and husband—had a very unique colonial charm to it. Just as she found her thoughts going to that last point in particular, she found her husband reaching up and pulling the zipper up on the back of her dress. Helen had managed to put the whole ensemble on herself—dress, gloves and high-heeled shoes—but knew that no matter how flexible and limber she was, she would have to have help getting that zipper up her back. The slim black dress hugged her curves nicely, blessed with great genetics, or so she told her friends, and the iron discipline that allowed her to keep up the difficult workout regimen that such a good figure required. Her husband liked to joke that she needed more maintenance than their GRX-430 house maid did.

Helen had married her husband, Robert Spearmont, just a year and a half ago. Before that time, they had courted for the socially appropriate length of time amongst the wealthy and privileged of New England. Spearmont was a man in his late forties. Despite that, he kept up a youthful appearance, with only the barest roots of gray hairs on his otherwise short black hair. Unlike Helen, his looks were undeniably English. The strong chin and jawline that defined so much of his face had an attractive level of stubble to it, which became evident as he leaned in after zipping his wife up, resting that attractive head on her shoulders, his strong arms wrapping around his waist.

The Spearmont family was one of distinction. Robert's looks, which were often commented to look like what many imagined English nobility of yesteryear to have, always brought an ironic chuckle. The Spearmont family had their start as a primarily Dutch-Irish shipping family that had met in the New World with little more than engineering experience, steely determination and lucky breaks to guide them to success. They were loyal subjects of the British crown, creating supply ships and warships for His Majesty's navy during The War of the Spanish Succession, or Queen Anne's War as it was known in the Americas. However, the heavy shipping and property taxes had caused the Spearmonts to join the growing Revolutionary movement. After the war ended, they helped to create the fledgling United States Navy and Robert took it as a point of personal pride that just recently, the remains of a ship that had been sunk in Chesapeake Bay during the battle that bore the lake's name in the War of 1812 had been found there. However, with no heir and no prospects for a wife, Robert seemed to be the last of the illustrious line that had served American shipping interests for well over 400 years.

It seemed, however, that his meeting, courting and marrying Helen, hope had been revitalized in the company and family fortune. What few knew about the mistress of the Spearmont family would shake the conservative community to its core.

There were a grand total of three people who knew the secret. Robert, the physician Helen hired to keep things quiet, and the expensive, exclusive Humanoid Robotics Specialist that maintained her sensitive mechanical systems. Helen had started off her existence not as Helen, but as HS-4102-109-D. She had rolled off the factory line at Helsinki Heavy Machinery as part of their HS-410 model series of what were frequently known as “companion”-type androids and gynoids over four years ago. Marketed as a catch-all of maid and pleasure model with a life-like Artificial Intelligence, companion models were often derided as “robo-wives” and “pleasure models with brains” by critics of the type and, in some cases, the civilian AI industry in general.

Limited rights had been granted to AI's (full rights were impractical for an Artificial Intelligence whose intelligence was already subject to limitations to keep their intelligence from becoming too alien to understand or too vast for even the advanced computers to handle, as well as an intelligence whose thoughts and opinions were entirely within the realm of editing), and when Helena had been permitted her freedom after the natural passing of her elderly owner, she soon took a human identity to try her hand in the tricky world of investment finance. Although technically legal, the practice of AI's making investments in what had been seen as a traditionally human institution was one of great controversy, and she had come to the especially logical conclusion that what the regulatory commissions knew wouldn't hurt them, as so many successful business heads before her had theorized.

That woman—and she considered herself a woman in every respect—stared into the mirror now with her husband's arms wrapped around her waist, his athletic body leaning into the curve of her back. Helen reached up and began to brush a crease under her eye, slowly rubbing it back and forth. “Robert, the pains I have to go through to look flesh and blood make me wonder if it is all worth it.” Helen's concerned comment over the developing wrinkle under the eye was met with a chuckle by her husband.

“Don't worry, Helen. We'll keep up appearances, and before you know it, your face will look as smooth and plastic-y as the rest of the women in the neighborhood.” He chuckled as he leaned into her neck, intending to put a kiss there, but Helen only let out a sigh. “Well, I was hoping to be open with our neighbors before I looked like the mummified husk of a D-list Hollywood actress or porno star. Perhaps my expectations are a little too grandeo--”

She found her words being cut off as Robert spun her around on her feet, pulling her in close. Almost a foot taller than the fembot he called his wife, he held her in those large arms and gave her a slow, affectionate kiss. When it broke off, he spoke in a soft tone. “Helen, if you stare into that mirror any longer, you are going to get lost in it.” He gently let her go, and Helen smiled, looking down at her feet. Instantly, she was reminded of when they first met, and Robert had always remained that charming gentleman despite almost two years of marriage. Fights were rare, and ended quickly with mutual respect. Robert had made it clear that he did not see Helen as a human woman, but that just made her all the more desirable to the closet technosexual.

Robert turned around, and then walked across the room, picking up an item that was critical to their night out, and placed it into her velvet glove hands. The item was a very simple one. Compared to the rest of their respective clothing, it was rather cheap. It was a simple masquerade ball masque. No extra frills or flourish, it was even given its golden color due to spray paint that was admittedly rather special due to its nanotech-treated gold-like luster, but was still spray paint. Helen examined it, her sophisticated optics disguised behind ice blue eyes examined it, turning in her hands.

Robert was dressed in an outfit that, while distinguished and-for lack of a better word—“fancy”, was not as extravagant as the glittering black dress that hugged his wife's attractively pale body. Instead, it was a simple tuxedo. But in an age where a business suit could even include special light spectrum producing fibers that could subtly encourage the thoughts of clients and competitors, the simple tuxedo was a quaint throwback to a time when integrated circuits were not included into every scrap of cloth or inch of plastic.

“So,” Helen said as she brought the masque up to her face, looking through the eye holes, before setting it back down. She then reached over to the nearby jewelry box and tried to settle on a pair of earnings to wear, going between several pairs quickly. “Is this what you do on your weekends? Go to the same party every two weeks?” Her husband was sitting on the bed, slipping the brown leather loafers on, which was genuine leather. Which, these days, was quite the exorbitance. As were the several pairs of diamond earrings that his wife cycled through, before finally setting on a pair.

Robert smirked, the intricate ritual of dressing for a black tie affair completed, and he stood up. Picking his own masque, identical save the fact that the dimensions were specifically made for a man, as opposed to Helen's more feminine counterpart. She lifted the mask in her hands now, the glittering diamonds sitting like tiny stars on her finely crafted ears. She checked her hair and makeup, although she ultimately needed very little of that to look pretty. While her artificial face did 'age', it was the only conceit towards humanity that she made, aside from the basic appearance of her body. Under her dress, under her chest was the hexagonal pattern outline of an access panel, just like any other HS-410. She looked through the masque, now sitting on her face.

“Well,” Robert said as he rose up to his feet, checking on the fit of his shoes. “I don't go every two weeks, you well know that. But I suppose I like to be regular with my visits.” He smiled, and tilted his head. He was always fascinated watching his robotic wife, the way she preened herself like a human did, perhaps even moreso. He supposed he was supposed to find the actions irritating, as a typical male and female couple were wont to (of course, he had no idea how same sex couples on either side of the gender divide went about this, though he figured it was probably the same), but he kept viewing it from the standpoint of someone watching a robot, rather than waiting for a human. He stretched his arms out, and let out a little sigh. “Sorry if I risk sounding sycophantic, but...you really do look wonderful tonight.”

“Thank you,” Helen said with a smile, making sure the masque was on correctly. “But you haven't answered my question. Just where are we going, anyway? Some kind of high-class brothel?” Helen then turned her head, and her whole body to face him, as he approached, placing his hands on her waist and pulling her in closely.

“Nothing so...banal as that. Besides. Do you really think I would bring you to such a place, given our reputations?” He squeezed slightly, Helen able to feel the strength of his fingers in the dress. That was in such contrast to his gentle, loving nature. She smiled and planted a kiss on his lips, before chuckling.

“Well, the only other place I could think of you sneaking off to is a poker game. You do know you don't own me, you can't put your wife up as collateral.” She smirked, and Robert idly wondered if it was her more heuristic properties that made her so playful, or if that was a part of her programming from the start. He always thought about that. Was she focus tested, a rough facsimile of her put before a group of anonymous consumers before being replicated dozens of times?

He had to admit, such thoughts were both amusing and deeply arousing. He squeezed her a bit harder. “Trust me, my sweet. It will be worth it. It isn't a brothel, and it isn't a casino. Such things are for lesser people, anyway. I'm not some trust fund idiot who wants to blow his inheritance on women and cards. I'm quite satisfied with my riches and my wife. But I do enjoy the occasional recreational activity, and I think you will as well...”

Helen nodded, and placed her hands on her husband's shoulders. “Alright. I trust you. That mask looks nice on you, by the way. Makes you look mysterious and sexy...” Robert smirked, and let his wife go for a moment, only to take her by the hand.

“Come, dear. Our chariot awaits,” Robert said in a playful tone, able to match his wife for teasing. Helen let a short laugh slip from her lips, before walking out of the room with him. They went through the halls of their elaborate colonial mansion, before heading out to a black Bentley, their driver awaiting their arrival, looking as sharply uniformed as the couple were sharply dressed.

On they drove, into the night. For Helen, it was into mystery. For Robert; anticipation.

----

“My, God.”

Helen was astounded by what she entered into. They had pulled up to what looked like an old townhouse. The building was at one point a small plantation, owned by a local small town business man but modest in comparison to the Presidential plantations like Mount Vernon. Regardless, as she entered, music was being played in a corner. Played, as in, with instruments and not through a speaker. The difference was something that Helen had only heard a few times before, and had registered with delight on many an occasion.

Whats more, everyone within was wearing masques. It was a genuine masquerade ball, though the clothing of all involved was far less elaborate than that of an actual ball. Cocktail dresses and tuxedos clashed with the waltzes and softly lit candles giving the room a very natural light. The wooden floors creaked and clacked, and the building—though restored—was showing its age in its architecture. It was no Versailles, but that made it all the more enjoyable. It would have been a little too strange to walk into such a place in New England, in such a fine example of New World Colonial. Helen did perhaps think a little too much about architecture, but having taken an interest in it with a machine's focus, it meant that she noticed such things.

“This is what you do? You go out and...dance?” Helen had to admit. The idea of it was charming, but it did not exactly make much sense. While he had many fine points, like any human—any individual—he had his faults. One of which was that he was a horrible dancer. So, was he coming here to train, then? Certainly, the people here were dancing well enough, but at the same time, she was noticing that they were not professional dancers. No instructors, it seemed to be a genuine party. That included the lovely looking catering in the far corner. Not that it made Helen hungry, but she could appreciate the effort.

There was another curious matter as well. While everyone looked lovely, the vast majority of the dancers seemed to be rather erratic with their masques. That was to say, there were all manner of masques in play. Red ones, black ones. Ones ringed with studded frilled structure around the edges. Some having animistic looks, suggestions of cats or birds here and there. One, which was rather garish, looked like it was more appropriate for Fat Tuesday than the Masquerade. But there was one thing she had noticed was uniform. Several people—eight at the final count, and all couples—were wearing golden masques. The same, plain, gold paint masques that she and Robert were wearing.

She was about to ask a question, when another couple came up to them. She couldn't make them out. Her facial recognition software often needed an exact match to recognize a person by face, and voice recognition was often too varied and too easy fooled to rely on for an exact match. So the masks were a surprisingly good form of disguise, even as intelligent as she was.

“Ah, brother. Good to see you. I am glad to see that you finally managed to bring your wife along. Tell me, is she aware?” The man spoke softly and politely, reaching out and taking Roberts hand in a shake. Meanwhile, the woman extended her hand as well, taking Helen's gently in a cordial handshake.

“Aware of the purposes of our visit, or aware in the general sense? No, to the first, yes to the second. I've made sure to make this as much of a surprise as possible. For her pleasure, I assure you. I'd hate to see her reject it, but I at least want to see if she is going to enjoy what we have planned for the evening before she rejects it. That, and she's been so damn curious about what I do on my days off from the shipping business.” Robert smirked, and walked off with the unrecognized man. Helen was about to follow, when she heard a female voice address her.

“Ah, so you must be Helen. A pleasure to meet you.” The woman's voice was as soft and pleasant as the man's, although she too could not be recognized. The hair was familiar, as well as the voice, and Helen was seventy-four percent sure that this was someone she knew from the neighborhood, but without an exact facial match, Helen's systems would not permit her to make the link between hair, voice and identity. A security measure she was keenly aware of, and minded no more than any human would the fact their heart beat without conscious thought. She was programmed to disregard such things anyway, being a human took precedence.

“Indeed, I am. And you are...?” Helen was all smiles, until she found a finger coming to her lips, the fabric a pleasantly soft felt that immediately registered itself as such in her system's memory. She made a mental note to determine if it was fabric or silk. “We don't ask each other who we are. We only ask who new members are to our club once, before disregarding their names. To you, you will address me as 'sister'. And likewise, I will address you as such, unless otherwise noted.”

Helen nodded her head once, but found herself completely lacking in understanding. It was astoundingly confusing to her identity recognition software. She blinked twice, and watched as the woman went to join the other man, leaving Helen on her own, but only for a short while.

“Ah, Helen,” Robert walked over to Helen's side, smiling softly as he approached. But his smile faded somewhat when he saw the look on his wife's face. One of confusion and irritation. Helen crossed her arms under her chest, unconsciously (and perhaps in terms of programming, intentionally on a subconscious level) emphasizing just how impressive her chest was, although not to the ridiculous sizes that a dedicated pleasure model attained.

“What is it? What's wrong?” Robert's question came with a concerned look, and he shrugged his shoulders as his wife turned to face him, her glare quite evident through the golden mask. He knew that he was in some form of trouble and had a feeling what it pertained to.

“What's wrong? I feel like you have looped me into some sort of...weird cult!” Despite her harsh words, Helen kept her voice down, her programming keeping her from making too big of a scene of it. Only if she perceived a real danger would she start shouting or screaming. That did not mean that she was not feeling mad enough not to start screaming and yelling, however. The human put his hands on his hips, but did not look too authorotative otherwise. Robert respected their relationship, respected his wife, but did not shrink in her presence like some shrewish shrinking violet. Robert gave respect and thus expected it in return, though he was not harsh with his words.

“You were curious about what I did every few weeks on my days off, when I wasn't spending them wit you? You wanted to know, and I am showing you. Now I know you might be put off by this, but Helen, I want to at least see you try to enjoy yourself tonight before you condemn the evening.” Robert smiled as he finished his words, and Helen found her icy demeanor breaking slightly. Regardless, she was still uncomfortable, and expressed as much. “I'm not sure, Robert. I don't know if this is something I really want to do, or to get involved with...”

Robert smiled, and reached out. Taking her pale skin with a pair of fingers to her chin, Robert lifted her head, turning it to face him as he leaned in to give her a soft kiss. “Trust me. I know you. I am sure you are going to really enjoy it...”

Helen stared into his eyes, the dancers in slow circles around them, waltzing slowly to the slow classical tune that almost seemed to waver through the air, rising and falling in tone like a ship at sea. It was pleasing to listen to, for everyone involved. Helen closed those lovely blue eyes of hers. “...Alright. I'll trust you on this one.”

Robert smiled, leaned down and gave his robotic wife a peck to the cheek. “Good. Now, I suppose we only have to wait until the real festivities start.” Robert's words left his wife wondering what that meant. Were they going to have a different sort of party than the one they were having now? She walked around the dance floor to mingle with a few guests, but not a one of them were going to give her names. She quickly caught on, her programming adapting to the situation, and she began simple mingling and idle talk with those who were watching the dancers or enjoying their meals.

All the while, she would occasionally spot her husband, mingling with other guests, but primarily speaking with the man he had talked to earlier. Though nothing distinguished him as such, the fact that he was getting not only her husband's attention but the attention of everyone else in the room, told her that this man was likely the leader of the golden mask group. Helen stored the information in her CPU, though exact recognition would be difficult with the masks.

She was pleasantly discussing things with a group of people in non-golden masks, when her husband suddenly came to her side. She smiled softly as she turned to introduce him, only to find him gently grasping her arm. “Come with me, it is time you found out what it is we are doing here.”

Helen's expression became more serious, and she nodded. He let go, and Helen had to admit that the rather forceful grab was not like him. She tilted her head and addressed the people she was speaking to, apologizing for having to go, when she walked along with her husband across the large room to one of the far walls, and watched with some confusion as her husband walked towards a wall, joined by several other people who seemed to walk into the wall...Then disappeared behind it. Of course, once she realized what she was seeing, she realized that the wall was holographic. The rest of the party goers did not seem to realize that the golden mask group had evidently vanished, as the party continued without interruption. Either that, or this was a regular affair.

As they passed through the wall, the golden masks with Helen following behind walked through an old passage. Helen supposed that this might have been made for any number of reasons. A plantation owner worried over a slave revolt, or alternatively a stop on the Underground Railroad? Regardless of the reason, the secret passage led to a place that was decidedly more sinister in its looks.

The old chamber had been refitted with a number of pillows, all of them colored a deep shade of red. Perhaps evoking the color of blood, though Helen also knew that they were considered the color of passion. The room was lit by candles only, standing on ornate candle stands that were the color of silver. It made the rest of the room dark, shadows As she found herself heading into the room, she began to notice that the eight individuals who were wearing golden masks were all here. And they all started to stand in a circle. The final couple, herself and Robert, walked to the circle, where Helen's sense of danger detection in regards to her self-preservation programming flared up. Perhaps the facsimile of her 'instincts' were that well-programmed, or maybe she had seen the occasional film featuring dark cults and human sacrifice, but the masks, the candles and the secretive nature were all tripping the wrong circuits.

She looked to Robert, who looked back at her with a smile on his face. Even with that mask on, she knew it was him. Knew it from priority recognition classifications, the sort that told her that she loved and trusted him. And that was all that was going to keep her from running out of the room right then. It wasn't fear, exactly. Programmers of AI for personal domestic use often found the idea of making a machine capable of total obedience experience fear, or at least the closest a machine could get without the genetic, instinctual memories of being stalked by predators in a Pliocene forest behind their thought processes, a rather uncomfortable prospect. The only reasons one would even include such a thing was either to attain a realism with the unit's behavior that many would have deemed too uncomfortable to deal with, or to fulfill some sadistic desire to strike fear in a machine. Something no company wanted association with. Instead, Helen was experiencing something as close to fear as she could get, a deep uncomfortable sensation that someone less inclined towards a finer vocabulary might have described as “the willies”. Approaching, but never quite reaching, a state of fear.

The man whom she had identified as the leader of the group stepped forward, still wearing his black tie tuxedo, very similar to that of Robert's. The rest wore various other variations of the theme. Black tuxes for the men, black dresses for the ladies. Helen's eyes took in every detail behind the mask she wore, darting to look at each one as the leader began to announce something.

“Welcome, brothers and sisters. Tonight, we welcome a new member into our group. Brother R has decided to bring along his wife who, as I have come to understand is...Quite unique. Brother R, would you mind giving us a proper introduction to your companion this evening?”

Robert, 'Brother R', nodded, and slipped his hand up to Helen's back. She turned her head to look over her shoulder as she felt that hand start to zip down her dress. “Robert, what do you think--” Helen found her words cut off as she heard her husband speak out the words “ HS-4102-109-D, override command line Hotel Rio Nero Major. Initiate shut down of primary motor functions.”

Helen found her head involuntarily turning back around to face straight ahead, staring right at the men and women who made up this strangely-outfitted group. Helen then felt her dress loosen on her body, its tight squeeze lessening as Robert's hands pulled that zipper down her back slowly, tooth by tooth, revealing more of her pale back and shoulders. Helen felt like she should have been infuriated by the exploitation of her command code, used exclusively for emergencies in the past, but instead felt a rush of sensation she could only describe as pleasure. The dress was pulled down her shoulders and arms, before finally falling around her feet, left bunched at her ankles. Her naked breasts sat exposed to all in the room, the gynoid watching with an external impassiveness as the golden-masked party goers looked her over. She could tell in the way their heads and eyes moved, looking her over like she was a fine art piece or an expensive car.

Robert leaned in, rubbing Helen's shoulders as the gynoid stood completely still. “She's a Helsinki Heavy Industries HS-410 model. Top of the line.” Robert slowly brought his hands down along the curves of Helen's sides. His fingers hooked into her panties and she let out a gasp, helpless—and aroused—as they slid down her legs, joining her dress at the bottoms of her ankles. “Her AI is likewise top of the line, enough that many of you likely had no idea she was a robot. Until I told you of course.”

Helen let out a gasp as she heard this, shocked and surprised. Had her head not been rendered immobile, she would have snapped it over her shoulder. Anger and arousal were rising in equal measure, the emotions strangely seemed to mix and meld. Her AI was sophisticated enough to 'blend' emotions, though, and she was soon felling both merge into something she could only really describe by system classifications. Namely, as a sensation she should feel during 'angry sex'. It felt good...But Helen still had her pride.

“Robert, I am not at all pleased with you right now!” Helen's voice sounded more desperate than angry. Part of the reason was that proper decorum, or a sense of it developed in a career that was very unfriendly towards gynoids, made her want to preserve the illusion of her humanity. One that was shattered as she stood there, with her hands at her sides, wearing only that golden mask as Robert's hands reached around and cupped her breasts, giving the generous mounds of synthetic flesh a rough grope that Helen interpreted as a little possessive, though at this point she was reaching at straws to attempt to interpret anything. Her sophisticated AI could process a number of scenarios, but this was one that she was having a difficult time putting together.

“Brother R, I have to say I have never considered a robot such as this before, but I am beginning to see the appeal.” The leader of the cult, who now had a classification in Helen's systems as 'Master', thanks to Robert's “thank you, Master” response. It was a strange notion for the machine, to think that humans could willfully sign themselves over to calling someone else 'Master'. Helen had been trying to avoid such classifications ever since she had been allowed her freedom...and as much as she wished to deny it, calling someone else 'Master', even if it was not her husband, registered in her systems in such a way that it caused her to squirm. Mentally, if not physically. A surge of pleasurable sensation more intense than the strong, large hands pushing and squeezing her chest.

“Hello, Machine. As you just heard, I am known to these brothers and sisters as 'Master'. I started this group, dedicated to an exploration of the pleasures of the flesh, a way to unwind after all of the stresses of our hectic lives. Brother R, your husband, was the one who offered to bring you here. Despite your nature, Machine, know that we consider you an equal here. Our group is made up of friends and neighbors. We are all affluent community members. The betrayal of one of us would betray us all, including the betrayer. It is perhaps somewhat pessimistic, but it will ensure that we all have our privacy. In other words...your secret is safe with us, Machine.”

Although it was a bit difficult to process, given the influx of pleasurable sensation that streamed from the clusters of sensor wiring in the breasts that continued to be handled so roughly, Helen understood Master's words, although she was still unsure how to feel.

“Brother R, do we have permission to use your Machine as it pleases us?” The rest of the group watched impassively, a few bringing hands under their chins, or resting on their sides. One of the men had pulled his jacket off, and was idly groping his presumably human female companion.

“Master, you have my permission to use my Machine as it pleases you.” Helen suddenly felt a profound sense of mortification at that statement, coupled with a strange arousal that she could not place. Her lips quivered as she attempted to speak, while Master knelt down and put his hands on her thighs.

“Robert...B-Brother R, I haven't given permission to--” She started to slowly feel the Master's hands brush over her thighs. She could tell very little about the man, but knew that he was older than Robert, and that from the massage she was being given to her inner thighs, that he was quite skilled. She shuddered and groaned, words snatched by the compounding sensor registration that she interpreted as pleasure that was causing her nipples to stiffen, her sex to moisten and her body to grow hot. If she could have, she would have curled her fingers at her side.

Helen made a sound of simulated panting, groaning and moaning, yet her chest did not move nor did she express much beyond basic facial expressions. Unable to move, being pleasured by a husband who she was beginning to realize she did not know anywhere near as much as she thought she did about him and a total stranger that her husband trusted implicitly, Helen felt embarrassment that she was almost approaching an orgasm already.

And then the Master's lips pressed against the puffy, moist folds of her artificial sex, and she was suddenly, lewdly moaning. Unable to turn her head downwards, she was relying on what her sensors were telling her, and it was that Master's tongue was skillfully running along her folds, prodding and pushing between them, before finally pushing up between the tightness of her nether lips. Despite her system-command induced paralysis, she shuddered, eyes fluttering and the blue color behind them flickering rapidly.

Her eyes darted about the room as she experienced these intense sensations, looking to the rest of the 'brothers and sisters' that had gathered around them. They were taking off their clothing, pulling off tuxedo jackets and unzipping the zippers to jeans, the men openly revealing stiff erections and the women baring chests with hardened tits. Yet as they revealed both bodies and arousal, the members of the club never took their masques off, and Helen noticed that she too had kept her masque. Her tongue ran along her lips, about the only thing that she could do, as Robert and the Master continued to pleasure her.

Finally, she let out a final, deep moan and came, eyes fluttering as intense, pleasurable sensations washed over her like a ship getting pounded by a rogue wave. The gynoid investment banker's teeth rattled as both Robert and the Master backed off. She could only see Master in front of her, but from the sounds she heard behind her, it was clear that both were now joining what the rest of the room had done by taking their clothing off. Master's body underneath the tuxedo he wore was an impressive one. Despite his evident age, he was well built, and the genetic roulette had been kind to him in all the right ways. He stood with an impressive erection in front of her, just as she felt her husband's likewise impressive member press against the small of her back, just as stiff and ready.

There was, however, another curious sensation. She could see just out of the corner of her eye her husband's arm reaching around to her control panel, felt his arm brush against the underside of her now very sensitive left breast and finally, announced to the room “system control interface panel disengaged”. Something about announcing it, of telling to the room of strangers exactly what she was and how she functioned was not only deeply pleasurable to her, but it also came with a sense of relief. She wasn't hiding. She didn't have to look aged. She didn't have to make up relatives in casual conversation here.

She was beginning to see why her husband found this so appealing. Here they were, alone, private, and engaging in behavior their high society would have deemed reprehensible, yet here they were, engaging in these forbidden pleasures without fear of it becoming front page news. Or, at least, with that fear greatly reduced. She wondered if that meant as much to Robert as it did to her.

However, she wondered why her control panel was accessed at all. It became abundantly clear, however, when he began to input a command to her CPU, utilizing the same command line. It was impressive to know that Robert could do this without looking directly at it, and she idly wondered how many times he had done it in the past whenever she malfunctioned. It had been occurring with more frequency than she had anticipated, and the source of it was unknown to her.

Regardless, the command was soon clear. It was less one to her personality and awareness, and more akin to the prior command. This time, she felt unable to move for an entirely different reason. Helsinki Heavy Machinery often included a quirk that was somewhat unique amongst pleasure and companion models. Coming from a military background, the company took extra steps to include a wireless-linked distributed neural network and a self-contained charge retention system in all of the 'sections' of an android's body. This meant that, effectively, even if said android was dismantled, they could still feel sensations and to a limited degree, move their parts on their own power. Helen was no different in this regard, though this function had never been utilized as far as she was aware of. That changed tonight.

Helen felt the seals, latches and locks that held her body together disengage all at once, a network of seams that looked like borders on a map suddenly appeared on her body, as Master approached and reached out, taking her head in his hands. She found her perception of things getting greatly altered as her head was pulled up and off of her neck, and Master kindly turned her head around to watch as the guests, one-by-one, each approached and took the limb or section of their choosing. Between the masks and the somewhat unusual perspective, she had a hard time telling who was who and what they were doing, but that soon mattered very little.

Pleasure once again flooded into her chest-mounted CPU, her upper torso acting as a sort of function hub, with her critical systems all contained within it. So long as that functioned, she could think, feel and have power, even if all her other parts deactivated. But this time, the sensation was different. Latency from the wireless transmission was making her movements stiff. Gentle enough that, for example, when her palm found itself experiencing the warm sensation of a stiff cock pressing against it, Helen was able to slowly, but gently, bring her fingers around it and slowly, gently, move her wrist up and down against it. The very notion of what her dismantled body was now doing was hugely arousing and decidedly foreign, but Helen realized that this might have been some aspect of her functionality.

Being taken apart, the strange notion that she was vaguely aware of thanks to repair and maintenance sessions that frequently saw her either shut down or with her higher AI functions greatly reduced, was at once known and entirely new to her. What's more, she was being used as a sex toy, anonymously by a group of strangers. She could feel warm tongues press against her right breast on her separated upper torso, lapping at the smooth synthetic skin and the stiff nipples that capped them, while the other was groped by a thin and dextrous hand that sensor profiles indicated was that of a woman's. She could feel a cock rubbing between her folds on her disconnected hips, teasing entrance, before plunging in with a soft whirr from the exposed mechanisms of her hips. One of her hands continued to push up and down on a hard, warm erection, while the other had its fingers being rubbed up and down against softer, warmer skin that she knew had to be a vagina. Had it been a few hours ago, she would have hesitated, but once she felt it was warm enough, she sent a command that plunged two fingers inside of it. Not even her feet and toes were spared. A tongue ran between the digits there, while someone else was actually pressing the sole of her other foot against a hard cock.

In addition to the typical sensations that were normal by sensory registration if not by their sheer volume, there were sensations of a sort that were far more alien. Helen's inner workings had pressure sensors connected to them, an overlay of sensors that were sometimes extremely dense and very small. The reason for their being there was to detect when something was inside of her that should not have been, such as a human hand, and cause her to immediately stop moving. She was programmed not to harm humans, but on the decidedly unlikely scenario that someone pushed a hand inside of her and risked getting a finger crushed between moving parts, Helen's body would immediately cease all movement. That was not a problem at this point, given that she was already paralyzed. But sensors were being tripped anyway. In other words, as bizarre a notion as it might have been, the people who were fondling her disconnected limbs and the sectioned halves of her torso were also reaching inside of her, brushing rubber-coated wiring and cabling, running fingers over the mechanisms and parts that made her function. One had even slipped an arm inside of her neck, if the pressure sensors were any indicator of direction, and were now brushing against a CPU processor cluster that was running quite hot.

The sensors did not transmit pleasure. They were simply there to notify her CPU at an autonomic level that there were foreign objects inside of her where foreign objects were not intended to go. But the realization that the hands of strange men and women, along with potentially that of her husband, were exploring literally every inch of her that they could manage to touch, as strange as Helen found it, was deeply arousing.

Before that point however, the Master had turned her around, looking into her eyes through the mutual covers of their masques. Without a further word, one hand held on firmly to the back of her head, bringing her down to where her disconnected head faced his impressive erection, while the other reached down underneath her head. Master sat himself down on the floor, as the rest of the participants in this strange technosexual orgy had done, and soon that hand that wasn't holding the back of her head reached down underneath where her head connected with her neck.

“Tell me exactly what you are,” was the question that Master asked her when she found herself staring at that thick cock. She licked her lips softly, and as the strange sensation compounded, she felt decidedly less and less like a human, or even a facsimile of a human.

“I. I. I am HS-4102-109-D. I am a Helsinki Heavy Machinery companion model. I am ready to pleasure Master however he may require.” Her voice was stilted, robotic, staring straight ahead at the cock in front of her as she was brought up to it, and her mouth stiffly opened, her lips curling around it. Helen found her head getting pushed back and forth, while the other hand that was underneath her head manipulated the senor wiring that stiffly stuck out from the underside of her neck.

By this point, Helen had already achieved orgasm twice, and her third was swiftly on the way.

----

Hours later, the orgy had finally ceased. But Helen had shut down half way through as the build up of information from her pleasure sensors had hit such a point that other processing functions were getting seriously starved. She was being used, even while offline, but organic endurance had finally run its course. It was the late, weary hours, and most of the other guests had gone home. Master, Robert and Helen were soon the only ones left in the room.

Helen reactivated before she became aware of her reactivation, her body sounding out an alert before the higher functions of her AI had loaded. “This HS-410 unit has experienced an unexpected shutdown. Error report logged. Would you like to send the report at this time?” Robert made a very soft 'no', when Helen's sense of awareness came back to her, eyes twitching back and forth as she got an idea of just what state she was in.

She was still dismantled, but only partially. Sat down in a chair brought over from the now empty main room, her head and left arm were connected to her upper torso, while her lower waist, legs and right arm remained nearby, ready to be reconnected. Helen twitched her head with a somewhat rough movement to look over at her fully clothed husband, before looking back over to the half-dressed Master, his upper body shirtless.

“Brother R, I hate to sound impatient, but if you don't mind I would like to talk to your wife in private for a moment, and I would hate to leave my wife waiting.” Robert chuckled softly, and nodded once.

“Sure, just a moment, Master. Helen, how are you feeling? Are you operating well enough? Feel any...better?” Robert watched as his wife's head twitched left and right as she looked about the room in a manner not unlike a bird. This was normal, however, given her disassembled state. Her movement functions were reduced in capacity to prevent her from slipping off of a repair rack or other form of suspension.

“Well, you know how to treat a woman, that is for sure...I have to say, I was a little freaked out at first, but the surprise turned out to be...pleasant. Thank you, Robert. Er, Brother R. I guess I will see you outside then?”

Robert nodded and smiled, before nodding to the Master. “Thank you, Master. She sounds a lot better already.” The statement left Helen confused. Better? She assumed that was because of the dismantling and the reduced functionality of her motor and expression systems, but Robert walked out through the holographic wall without saying anything further.

The Master then walked over to Helen's dismantled body, taking her hips and working her legs back into place. The operation was a simple one, intended to be as user friendly as possible in order to make the gynoid easier to package for long trips.

“I hope you aren't sore at Robert for the unexpectedness of it, but he and I were convinced that you would not have agreed to come along, given your fixation for total human emulation, and we both agreed that to have you unaware of what was going to happen, while not ideal, would be the best approach.”

Helen blinked as she processed what was being said. “I'm not quite sure I understand...”

Master stopped a moment, running a hand briefly through his hair, before looking up to Helen with a smile. “You aren't human, Helen. You aren't ever going to be human, unless you think that stars grant wishes and crickets sing musical numbers.” Helen nodded once, understanding and even chuckling a little.

“You are a machine. A robot designed to serve humans. And while your AI, thanks to heuristic self-writing software has advanced out of this and allowed you a comfortable life, you cannot ever drop that aspect of yourself. Your husband told me about how you spend hours in front of the mirror preening yourself to make yourself look human. How you have been creating fake relations at social events, your own little turn at Bunburying, I suppose?”

Helen could not help but chuckle, even as she was hearing something she was aware of, but denied to herself. “I didn't realize you were a Wilde fan.”

“There are a lot of things you don't know about me, which is the idea. However, I can let you in on a secret that only Robert and my wife are aware of.”

Before Helen could ask, she suddenly received a prompt for the wireless transfer of information. She accepted, and received the information in less than a second. It was understood in even less time, shooting through her systems at light speed. She twitched her head softly.

“Ah, so you are an Ono Robotics RD-43L? I wouldn't have guessed you were Japanese, either.” Both shared a chuckle.

“Yes, I am like you. A machine. I once served a mistress and became an independent unit. And I too became obssessively concerned with maintaining a human cover in this conservative area. I experienced several malfunctions and break downs and greatly concerned my wife, until I came to realize that denying my nature as a machine, as a robot was harming my software and causing instabilities. Similar to your case. Your husband has been telling me that you have been experiencing a multitude of errors, malfunctions and concerning behavior, yes?”

Helen sighed and nodded her head, as the DR-43L she identified as Master reconnected her arm. She jerked a touch, before nodding again, replicating the motion involuntarily. “I can't just confess to the world what I am. I'd lose my reputation, my standing...Nobody would hire me, and I'd hate to be a burden on Robert.”

Master nodded, and then pulled Helen's hips up to a straight standing position. Her naked waist ended in jutting wiring and a section of her mechanical “spine”, many aspects of her anatomy similar to that of a human's. She found herself letting out a little gasp as her upper torso was brought down on top of her hips, and Master was soon reconnecting her separated halves with a mechanical precision.

“You'd be even more of a burden in this continued state. Concern yourself with these matters outside the privacy of your home, Helen. Or you will likely suffer a critical malfunction at the office, and then you will have a difficult time explaining it away.” Master's words were somewhat blunt, but spoken softly and gently. In other words, he was kindly speaking to her as a machine would to another. It impressed Helen to a great degree.

“...I see the logic in what you say. I...Suppose I can suspend such a heavy investment in my human emulation when at home...and...when I come back here.”

Master chuckled softly. “Then I'll see you in the week after this one? Excellent. And by the way...If you ever want to see what two machines could do all on their own, I could ask Robert if he would be willing to allow us to have some private time together.”

Helen blushed at the thought as her body was now reassembled. She reached up to her chest and closed her control panel, and then smiled softly. Shameless in her nudity, she never the less walked to where her clothes had been neatly folded, retrieving her undergarments and pulling her panties back up her thighs. “I'll think about it...” Helen smiled, and then walked over to the Master. It was perhaps an altogether human method of expression and interaction, but the gynoid leaned over and gave the android a kiss to the cheek.

“Thank you...It is perhaps a little strange to view this so positively--”

Master chuckled softly. “There you go, thinking like a human again. Don't worry. I appreciate your affectionate gesture. Just remember to...cut loose sometimes. Engage in a bit of recreational dismantling every now and then. Works wonders for me.”

Helen chuckled, gathered up her dress and quickly zipped it up. Helen then slipped her shoes on as Master likewise finished dressing, and before long, they both passed through the holographic wall and to their respective spouses.

As Helen met with Robert, she smiled and kissed his cheek, smirking as they both headed out to the car. Their driver, who looked a little tired but not at all displeased, smiled as they entered.
Sitting comfortably in the back seat, both Helen and Robert looked out the windows, getting their first good look at the chilly winter dawn around them. The sun rose up over a forest of evergreens nearby, the old building situated in the country in undeveloped land to give it a real sense of history. Helen let out a heavy sigh, and then turned her head to look at her husband, who looked back at her with a smile.

“So, did you and Master have a good talk?”

Helen tilted her head. “Robert, do you know his real name?”

Robert chuckled. “Yes, but I won't share it with you, not yet anyway. He asked me to respect his privacy and keep that information confidential, and I intend to do so. So, forgive me if I am perhaps being rude.”

Helen simply looked his way, before letting out a little sigh. “Robert...” She reached over and activated the passenger section's privacy functions in the Bentley. A window between the front and back seats shut, and noise dampening systems were activated. Such a luxurious ride offered measures of privacy as a matter of course.

“...Order me not to ask again.”

Robert blinked a few times, looking at his wife with surprise, replacing the initial concern he was experiencing. “Pardon?”

“Robert...I...Ask that you order me not to ask about Master's identity again.”

Robert stared in silence for a moment, before nodding slowly, a smile coming to his face. “Eager to get more in touch with your electronic side, eh? Alright...I order you, HS-410-109-D, to not ask me again.”

Helen nodded, closed her eyes, and let out a heavy sigh.

“...I'll let you rest tonight. But when you are done recharging, Helen, I am going to utilize this new side of you to the fullest extent.” It was less a threat, more of a promise. Helen smiled softly, and felt her anticipation grow. Yes, it was strange from the human perspective of things, to look forward to be ordered around and treated like a lesser thing. But Helen, aware of her robotic nature, knew now that she was built to serve. It would take some doing to balance the headstrong investment banker with being a servile machine serving her husband's needs, but she had the confidence that she could do it.

When they got home, rather than run through the somewhat pointless ritual of undressing, slipping into bed and closing her eyes, attempting to look like she was sleeping, Robert and Helen mutually enjoyed the privacy of their home. Without saying a word, Robert idly stripped his wife of her clothing, opened a panel in her back and plugged her into a power strip, before ordering her to shut down for the next eight hours to recharge.

Helen processed a sensation of anticipation, just before her personality and higher AI functions shut down for the night, standing statuesque in the corner of their large manor bedroom, chest high, head tilted slightly downwards, arms limp at her sides.

-----

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[[Category:Saya]]
[[Category:Stories]]
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