Roommates

Roommates

Part 1: Carla

Carla sat on her couch, more accurately she loafed on her couch. He feet up on the coffee table, fuzzy slipper-socks covered her feet and she watched whatever it was she could find on TV. Currently it was some cheesy early nineties sci-fi film, some monster was rampaging around a city. Carla snorted at the childishly bad special effects and even worse plot, but it was enjoyable none-the-less. Brainless fun could sometimes be the best fun. She tucked a strand of her auburn hair behind her ear and let out a sigh and clicked off the TV. She tossed the remote aside and pulled her hair into a pony tail and bound it in place with the scrunchy that she had on her wrist.

Carla stood up and stretched a bit and glanced at the Microwave clock, it was already past six. Her room mate and fellow student Abigail hadn’t come home just yet, even though her last class ended nearly two hours ago. She was probably out partying like the sorority girl she wished she was. Carla shrugged and trotted down the short hallway to her room. It was still fall, so she had adorned sweats and a hoodie. Closing the door behind her she quietly pressed against the door and let go of the handle so that it quietly latched, she then turned the deadbolt on the door.

Her room was the only place where she could really be herself, out of the prying eyes of everyone else, Abigail included. She kept the blinds perpetually shut, even though their dorm was on the third floor. The room was dark as the night that encircled the campus, but that didn’t bother Carla one bit. She turned from the door and stood up stock straight, her hand deftly clicking on the light switch. Her face already formed into an expressionless mask. Carla’s eyes scanned the room back and forth, up and down, ensuring that there was nothing out of place, added or even moved in the room. Her room was a montage to nerd culture. Her walls plastered with comic book posters, shelves lined with action figures from anime, pop culture and video games. Her bed remained, as always, completely unmade and in a state of disarray.

Carla took a step into the room and then immediately knelt down and reached under her bed. She dragged out a suitcase, pleasantly generic in appearance save for the heavy padlock on the clasp. Carla hoisted the case up and set it on her bed. As it bounced once the sound of clinking metal could be heard. Carla thrust her hand down her hoodie and pulled out a single key on a chain and set about unlocking the padlock and opening in the case. Inside was a tool set with all manner of exotic and strange looking tools in addition to standard screwdriver sets. Several circuit boards in anti-static bags, wires bundled together with rubber bands and a variety of plugs. Tucked into the pocket of the suitcase lid was a laptop, which Carla took out, plugged in to a wall outlet and powered on. She sat down on the bed between the booting laptop and the tool case.

Carla’s eyes flicked over to the door one last time, ensuring that the door was locked as it was supposed to be. She couldn’t let anyone, not even her room mate know her secret. Abigail just wouldn’t understand. Confident that she was both alone and secured in her room, she was ready to begin her nightly system check and cleaning. It was supposed to be nightly at least, she had put it off for several weeks now. She reached into the suitcase and pulled out one of the static bags, turning it over a camera on the end of an adjustable arm tumbled into her hand. Protruding from the bottom of the arm was a simple USB plug which she looked at, making sure she noted the position of the connection side inside of the plug.

Carla placed the camera and arm appendage in her lap and reached up to her head, pressing one thumb firmly into her trachea and holding it there for upwards of thirty seconds. This didn’t distress her at all, and after the thirty seconds there was a small soft click from inside of her neck. She moved her hand from her throat to her jaw, while her other hand cradled the back of her head, both of them guided her head off of her neck cleanly. She set her head down next to her and picked up the camera appendage and lined it up with a, now exposed, USB port inside in her neck. Once plugged in her vision returned, though now in a significantly reduced resolution.

With her vision now restored Carla picked up her head module again and swiveled her camera over to the suitcase and pulled out a microfiber cloth and some cleaning spray, both of which she set in her lap. Carla spritzed a small amount of the cleaning spray on to the cloth and then scooted her head over to her. Using one hand she pried open one of her eyelids, revealing her blue eyeball underneath. She applied a firm amount of pressure where the cleaning spray had soaked into the cloth and scrubbed her eye, drying it with the same cloth and then repeating the process to her other eye.

She picked up a toothbrush and jar of some kind with a clear fluid in it. She clamped the jar between her soft thighs and opened it. Had she been a human and not an android she would have smelled the strong smell of alcohol in the jar. With the jar open she set about forcing open the jaws on her disconnected head. The servo-motors there whined noisily but in the end her mouth was opened. She dipped the toothbrush in the fluid and set about scrubbing the teeth, slightly rubbery tongue, inside of the cheeks and even deep down the throat of her own head. Working firmly to scrub off any grime that may have collected inside her oral cavity.

Carla swiveled her small temporary camera down to the jar to assist her in screwing the lid back in place and putting it and the toothbrush away. She then carefully arranged her freshly clean head on her lap before reaching up and disconnecting the camera. Her hands mechanically set it next to her and then re-positioned themselves next to her head and picked it up and aligning it just above her neck with a precision that could have only been programmed in. Carla lowered her head back onto her neck at a slightly turned angle and, once settled onto the bindings in her mechanical neck, sharply turned her head so it was facing forward.

Carla’s operating system took over and began re-initializing the devices that were contained in her head. Her eyes began to blink, artificial saline based tears working to moisturize her eyes and her mouth filling with the same saline based saliva. She moved it around with her tongue and began to resume a more human like facial expression. Hey glassy eye balls moved around in their sockets giving her operating system the opportunity to re-calibrate their position. She blinked a few more times before she looked down at the camera. She picked it up and placed it back in the anti-static bag, then back into the suitcase.

Carla stood up from her bed and without blinking, without making any kind of facial expressions bent forward and hooked her fingers into the waistband on her sweats then drug them straight down her shapely thighs until they crumpled into a pile on the floor. Carla stepped out of her sweats and back over to her suitcase. She mechanically lowered her head to look in it and took out a tool of some kind, it simply had a plastic handle with a 4 inch long rod on it. It looked like it was a screwdriver without any kind of tip on it, just a slightly pointed metal tip.

Carla stood back upright and aligned the tip of the tool nearly vertically, with the tip resting just above her vagina. Once in position and aligned she pressed it up and into her flesh. The synthetic skin gave way in this one small area and allowed her to push the tool up into a manual release for her sexual module. There was another small soft click from inside her hips and Carla withdrew the tool and set it back on the bed. Once the tool was out of her hands she squatted down just a bit and using both hands, took a firm grip of her vaginal opening and pulled it downward. The entirety of it slid from between her legs, bringing with it a long tube like mechanical assembly, it ended in a flexible tube of some kind.

Carla held it in one hand and with the other unscrewed the tubing, letting it simply dangle between her leg as she stood upright again. Inside of her case there was a handle attached to some kind of long apparatus with clamps all along the side. She pulled out a sealed container and pulled out a soft sponge-like attachment and clipped it to the apparatus. She then pushed it deep inside of her disconnected sex. She moved it around rather vigorously, pulling it in and out, moving it side to side and around before finally removing the brush. Once removed she songy attachment from the clips and tossed it into the garbage in her room. Next she slipped the entire sexual modules back between her legs, reattached the tubing to it and pressed it into her body until it clicked into place.

The final self maintenance task Carla needed to perform for the evening was to empty her internal food and fluid intake tank. She stepped back over to her sweats and pulled them up, tying them off at the waist. She picked up the long thin tool from earlier and slipped it into the pocket of her sweatpants. She moved back to the door and unlocked it and peered out.

“Abigail? Are you home?” She called into their dorm. When she got no response she moved swiftly into the bathroom up the hall, half way between her room and Abigail's. Once inside she locked the door again and immediately turned on the bathtub, letting the sound of it cover what she was about to do next.

Carla once again dropped her sweat pants and stepped out of them, making sure to set the tool on the counter for ease of access. Once out of her sweats she also pulled her hoodie up and over her head, the hem of it catching her breasts just barely and causing them to bounce as her top was removed. It would have been easy enough to avoid causing them to bounce like that, but Carla was programmed specifically to remove her clothes as quickly as possible when doing self maintenance and pulling her top up and along her flat and artificially toned abdomen and up her breasts was the quickest way to remove her top. Once off though, she simply let it fall to the ground.

Carla picked up the tool again but this time positioned it directly in front of her belly button. She once again pushed it deep inside of her until the membrane below her skin let the tool through and she clicked the manual release switch inside of her belly. Once she felt the locking mechanisms start to buzz and whir as they disengaged she withdrew the tool and set it on the counter. Next her abdominal paneling lifted outward off of her torso about an inch. She inserted her fingers into the gap and tugged it off of her own body. The panel was a contoured panel that stretched from just above her sex, to just below her breasts. Carla placed the panel on the counter top as well.

Once her stomach was completely opened she reached both hands inside and unfastened two locks on a plastic cylinder which contained a vibrant blue chemical to help breakdown any food or fluids that were stored there. Currently it held the contents of the 2 glasses of wine Carla had while out with a friend, some snack food she'd had from the same night, and the breakfast Abigail surprised her with this morning. All of which had been broken down into a blue goo.

Carla tipped the contents of the tank into the toilet and flushed it away, once empty she moved to the tub and filled the container with water, sloshed it around and dumped it out. She did this several times to ensure that everything was flushed out of it. With that she stood up, slotted the container back inside of her stomach and replaced the panel. Once in place there was a buzzing as the mechanisms slowly drew the panel back into place and resealed it. Carla’s self maintenance was almost complete. She redressed herself and turned off the tub, letting it drain fully before she pocketed her tool and poked her head out of the door.

“Abigail?” She called into the hallway outside of the door. There was no answer, so Carla quickly slipped back into her room. Once there she meticulously locked the door again and replaced the tool in her suit case. She also put away the cleaning solution from earlier, the brush she had used and neatly stashed away the auxiliary camera she used while her head was disconnected. The last thing she did was take out a bottle filled with the same blue solvent she had just flushed out of her storage tank and drank it leaving the bottle half full. The fluid would be stored in her storage tank until it was flushed again.

She replaced the bottle and closed the suitcase. She was just pushing it back into place when she heard the front door to their dorm close followed by her room mate Abigail calling to her.

“Carla, are- are you here?” Her voice sounded like she had far too many drinks with her sorority friends. Carla re-engaged her human emulation software. It took around two seconds before it was ready but she quickly moved to the door and opened it.

“Yeah I’m here, are you drunk again” Carla looked at her room mate. Abigail was slumped against their entry way, looking disheveled and smiling stupidly. Carla shook her head, and like she had done more than once before, stooped down and helped her to her feet and stumbled down the hall with Abigail in tow. The pair entered Abigail’s room. It couldn’t have been more different than Carla’s. The walls were covered with band posters and wall scrolls featuring cute anime characters. Her shelves were a haphazard mess of DVD boxes, movies, empty fast food cups and books. Her bed was unmade and hadn't been made since the pair moved in together months ago.

Carla lugged Abigail over to the bed and lowered her down to the mattress. She took Abigail's shoes off and set them at the foot of the bed before dragging a garbage can over and leaving it next to the head of the bed. Carla shook her head and left the room and closed the door, seeing that Abigail was already asleep, her eyes closed and her chest just barely rising and falling. Carla rolled her eyes again and went back to her room. With Abigail asleep she would simply lay down in bed, begin her recharge cycle and start compiling the days data.

Part 2: Abigail

Abigail dug into her purse and fumbled with the keys there. She found the right one and then struggled to get the key into the lock on the front of her dorm door. Finally getting it in and turning it she turned the handle and let her weight open the door as she leaned on it. She stumbled into the entry way of her house and blindly swiped behind her and caught the door enough to shut it and locked it. She took a step forward and leaned against the wall, putting her hand on her forehead and slid down the wall to a sitting position.

“Carlaaaaaa” Abigail wailed down the hallway. “Carla, are- are you here?”

Soon, Carla came down the hall wearing a look of contempt.

“Yeah I’m here, are you drunk again?” Carla sighed and rolled her eyes but stooped down anyway to pick up her room mate. Carla looped Abigail’s arm around her neck and the two walked down the hall together. Carla used her foot to push open the door to Abigail’s room and once inside helped Abigail onto the bed. Abigail curled up almost immediately, even as Carla was taking her heels off and dragging a garbage can over to place it by the bed. Abigail heard all of it but put on a good show of being asleep. Soon enough she not only heard her door close but further up the hall Carla’s door close.

After waiting a full ten minutes after Carla entered her room Abigail’s eyes snapped open. She sat immediately up in bed and her face was a mask of neutrality. She was no longer acting drunk, in fact, she had never been intoxicated to start with. Abigail slid off of her bed and picked up the trashcan her room mate had so kindly left for her, moving it across the room to where it was originally. As she moved across the room she limped whenever she tried to put any measure of weight on her right leg. Each step punctuated by a whirring sound coming from somewhere deep inside of her pelvis.

Once she replaced the trash can she limped noisily to the door and locked it as silently as she could and then moved back to the bed. She sat down as gently as she could, but all that resulted was her lowering herself towards the bed and flopping the last foot or so. Once situated there she reached over to her side table and pulled open the drawer there and pulled out a small hard plastic toolbox and set it next to her. She then hiked up her black cocktail dress, which presently only covered down to her mid-thigh. She pulled it up and over her head and tossed it to towards the end of her bed. It landed dangling half off of her bed. She hadn’t bothered to wear panties or a bra for her night out with her sorority sisters.

She looked down at her right hip and frowned. Her heads up display was red with alerts about the status of it. While dancing someone overly drunk mountain of a man tripped and slammed in to her. Both had fallen to the floor but Abigail had landed weirdly on her hip, and her leg was twisted at a strange angle. Luckily no one had noticed the strange position of her leg when she fell, and she immediately corrected it to look human, but her vision had filled with errors and alerts Luckily none of the damage was bad enough to break the skin and she was confident that she could likely repair the damage. As she looked down at her hip right now she could almost see part of the broken joint protruding, pressing against her skin.

Abigail unclipped the tool box she had set next to her on the bed and opened it. Inside were tools of various kinds, sizes, and apparent uses. All of which were simply dropped into the box and left to sit where they landed. Abigail had to sort through several layers of piled tools and instruments before she found what she was looking for. She drew out a scalpel with a plastic lid capping it. She was also able to more easily find a can of artificial skin sealant in some kind of aerosol spray can. Taking the cap off of the blade she brought it down to her hip and pressed it into her artificial flesh. It took several minutes of precise slicing before she had cut away a section of her skin spanning from just below her rib cage, down to her upper thigh and spanning from just around the curve of her ass to just before the slight seam where her sexual module slotted into place between her legs. She left part of the skin uncut though, making a large flap of skin that hung down off of her leg.

Inside of the now exposed electronics inside of her hips, torso, and leg Abigail could easily see the metal joint in her hip where her leg would normally connect. She could also see the ball joint at the top of her leg, it was popped out of the socket by half an inch. If it were merely a matter of popping the joint back in to place she could have done that in the bathroom at the club, but she also noted the variety of cololured wiring that ran along her leg under some flexible plastic coating. Some of it had snapped due to the sudden stress on the wiring and was likely the cause of most of the errors she logged.

Abigail capped the scalpel and set it back into the toolbox, picking up a flat head screwdriver while she was there. She brought the head of the screwdriver to the plastic panel inside of her leg, still resting under a thick layer of skin on her leg. She began working the flat tip of it under the plastic panel until it lifted up slightly, soon the light popping of the locking mechanisms could be heard. She moved a hand into the gap and lifted upward, engaging a second set of locks that would hold the panel in an elevated position. The Synthetic flesh stretching upward along the lower edge of the panel. Abigail looked down at the wiring now and zoomed in with the camera like optical assembly inside her eyes. There were only two wires that were damaged.

After a moment of scanning through her own schematics, she identified where the two broken cables went. They were data relay lines, meaning that any data from her foot or leg that was relevant to the operation of her body as a whole were fed through these cables. Meaning that small balance corrections, the pressure applied to her leg, and many other operations needed to function and appear as a human were controlled by these cables. Abigail, gaze still fixed on her leg, opened up a web browser in her internal system and began searching for possible repair options or at least a way to work around the issue. She could take herself in for repair, but no repair center was open this late, and she needed to act as human as possible for class tomorrow and to keep her secret from her room mate. Abigail’s OS had a standing requirement that she remain as human as possible in front of other humans.

Abigail’s scans showed that the cables in question ran from her hip, though a flexible series of plastic covers in her leg and down to her foot. She would need to have her entire leg assembly disassembled and the cables replaced. A repair that was far beyond her programming. Abigail peered into her tool box again and dug around for a moment, this time pulling out a soldering iron and a small spool of silvery metal. She nudged herself along the edge of her bed until she got close enough that she could bend forward and plug in the soldering iron and held it in her hand. Once the tip of it was hot enough to gently let of small wisps of smoke she used one hand to awkwardly unspool a length of the solder from the spool. Holding the solder, the soldering iron and the damaged wire in place for a moment she managed to make a crude, but serviceable connection. She repeated the process for the other damaged wire as well.

Once both were done and the solder was cooling inside of her opened leg and hip, she reached over and unplugged the iron, setting it on a small metal stand and letting it cool. Her internal operating system recognized that a connection had been established with her foot properly and began loading a self test. She stuck out her leg straight out from her, a movement that made the whir of servos in her hip very audible. From there she rolled her foot left and right and flexed all her toes. Having satisfied the conditions of the test she nodded to herself. She reached down to her hip and pressed the flap of synthetic flesh back into place and sprayed on a generous amount of the flesh sealant. The Clear liquid worked like superglue, fusing skin back together. It sealed her up, but there was an obvious cut there. She knew she would have to pay a bit extra to have that properly touched up with the rest of her repairs.

Once the soldering iron was fully cooled she packed it and all the remaining tools away in the box and slipped it back into the nightstand. She then sat alone in her room, on the edge of her bed. She had been built and programmed to be a social unit, but here she was, alone again. If not for the fact that Carla had already gone to bed, and Abigail was supposed to be passed out drunk she might have invited her for some girl time. Abigail resigned herself to her evening alone, again. She reached down and grabbed the bunched up bottom to her cocktail dress and pulled it over her head. Sitting on her bed, now completely naked, she looked down at her body and sighed. She knew she was designed to be used for any number of activities, sexual and otherwise, but she had yet to be taken home by anyone. Though, she had only been in operation for a few months.

She pulled the comforter on her bed up a bit, just enough to cover her belly, leaving her breasts exposed. She closed her eyes for a moment and sent a command from her AI to her operating system requesting her stomach panel to open. Once her OS parsed the request there was a small whirring as a panel of flesh receded inside of her and then upward. Inside of the opened panel, now hidden by the comforter on her bed, were what made this android girl operate as smoothly as she did. She was a state of the art model and everything was bound up tightly in mesh tubes to hold cables together, neatly arranged for cleanliness. All of her circuitry was concealed under matte black hard plastic covering for protection. The only electronic component inside of her that was accessible without specialty screwdrivers was the power cable. Coiled inside a mechanism designed to zip it up inside of her when not in use.

Abigail slipped a hand under the covers and tugged the power cable out of her. She pulled out enough slack to allow her to plug in to the wall outlet next to her bed. Once her OS alerted her in her heads up display that she was connected to power and charging she let out a sigh, in reality she was expelling the last of the air in her air bladder. She set an internal alarm for the next morning and let her eyes slip shut. Entering in to a lowered power mode, she could still actively monitor the sounds in the area around her, but stopped using power for the rest of her body, shutting off functionality to most of her systems to lower power consumption and CPU cycles. She drifted off into the closest thing an android had to sleep.

Part 3: Upgrades

It had been a long night for Abigail, she had partied too hard, even for her. To everyone else on campus she was a twenty something woman who did well enough in her studies, but knew how to have fun. She seemed to have a new boyfriend or girlfriend every week and lived life to the fullest. She had the kind of perfectly blond hair that most girls had to pay a fortune to have bleached and dyed and fussed into existence, and her eyes were the kind of pale blue that would melt solid stone if she looked at it the right way. She was tall, slender, and carried herself in a manner that implied that she hit the gym once a day before classes at the university started. All in all, she was anyone and everyone’s dream girl.

That was, of course, by design. Abigail wasn’t a human, not even partially. Everything about her had been measured, trimmed, manufactured and assembled in a research facility. There was a small research station on campus that Abigail checked into from time to time when she needed some kind of maintenance or repair. She worked at the outpost as a secretary of sorts. She checked in other students and professors who were the property of Automated Humanity. She got paid a small amount of money for her services there, and had been programmed specifically to act as human as possible, meaning she had to budget her meager wages to pay for food that she didn’t need to eat. Though she did budget a small amount of funds specifically for repairs. Automated Humanity needed all the funding they could get and therefore charged the androids they manufactured for repairs and parts. The prices were reasonable and Abigail hadn’t had to use their services often, but today she needed them more than ever.

Abigail had set an internal alarm to activate her systems three hours earlier than normal. Her eyes snapped open with the alarm and her field of vision quickly filled with alerts about the damage on her hip, her not yet fully charged power cell, and the plethora of other small sensor errors from her leg. The night before Abigail had partied a little too hard, and had been tripped on the dance floor resulting in some wiring in her leg being damaged. With a little work she had been able to cut open the skin around her leg and hip and solder together some of the wiring but she needed to be repaired properly.

She tossed the blanket aside and slipped out of her bed, making sure not to tip over the garbage can her room mate, Carla, had left for her. Abigail smirked a little at that. Her room mate was such a sweetheart, always looking after Abigail. She made a note on her to-do list to buy some flowers for Carla. She didn’t understand why humans liked flowers so much, they were just dead plants in a bottle of water, but she wasn’t going to analyze that now. She had things to do.

As silently as she could, Abigail slipped out of her room, down the hall and to the front door. In the silence of the early morning every subtle whirr and buzz from her struggling internal electronics made her worry that she might wake Carla. Even as she limped down the hall past Carla’s room she slowed down to reduce the noise her damaged hip was making. Despite the noises that she could so clearly hear, Abigail made it to the front door, snagged her keys, and slipped out into the cool early morning air. She made her way down to a shuttle station and waited there for a cross campus shuttle to show up. It wasn’t scheduled to arrive for another twenty five minutes, but she could be patient.

Carla Hadn’t woken up from the sounds of Abigail moving past her room. Carla let anyone who wanted to know that she was a heavy sleeper. Unlike her room mate Carla, who was studious, devoting most of her free time to studying, homework and in those moments when she had some time to herself she knew how to relax. Foregoing the standard winter wear that most of the girls on campus wore for sweats, frumpy sweaters, and slippers. Carla exuded the kind of relaxed attitude that most of the university students lost after their first midterm.

Carla sat up in bed, her hair a messy auburn tangle that landed around her shoulders. After blinking a few times and stretching she hopped out of bed and immediately went to Abigail’s room. She saw that the door was open and so she peeked in.

“Abby?” She called.

When she got no response she pushed the door open a little more to see the empty bed and the garbage can she had left by her bed the night before. Carla shrugged and gathered that Abigail must have left early, though that was a little odd for a weekend, it wasn’t unusual for the party girl of a roommate to leave at odd hours. Between parties and booty calls, Abigail was rarely in the dorm for very long.

Considering that her roommate was gone, and likely for a long time, Carla decided that she could save one processing power and energy consumption and suspend much of her human emulation software. Abigail wasn’t there to freak out about the existence of real life androids, so Carla’s face fell into a neutral expression. She stood up straight and lowered the amount of air her artificial lungs drew in and how much her chest rose and fell with each breath. This meant that she only sucked in one deep breath every thirty seconds, just enough to wash the hot air away from the processors inside of her.

Walking to the kitchen she opened the fridge and took a quick inventory of the contents. The same process and the same scan she would run every Saturday morning. Carla did most of the shopping for the house, collecting a small amount of money from Abigail to pay for what she ate. Carla put on a good act, cooking and eating dinner with her human roommate, though the process of emptying the contents of her internal storage tank was part of her routine maintenance, there was some part of her that wished she didn’t have to eat. It was inefficient for her, but it was her programming, she had no choice but to follow it. A spreadsheet opened up inside of her operating system and began to make a list, categorizing what could be left for another week, and what needed to be purchased today. Soon there was a grocery list compiled from the contents of the fridge and the various other cleaning supplies to keep their dorm clean.

Carla walked smoothly back to her own room, closing and locking the door behind her. Anyone else would have thought that perhaps Carla was a little paranoid. Every time she walked through the door into her own dorm room she always swiftly turned and locked the door behind her. To Carla though, it was simply what she did. Her programming demanded that she make sure that she was in a secure location before revealing any part of her body beyond her head or her limbs. Since she needed to change into more appropriate clothes to make her way out of the house for a shopping trip, she latched the door behind her and her complex operating system and A.I. prepared for the task of changing clothes.

Any human might have said that picking out an outfit for the day was difficult, mixing and matching articles of clothing so that the look was just right. Carla’s struggles with getting dressed were so much different. She had no issues picking out an outfit. She had a perfect inventory of what was in her closet and which pieces fit together well and was even pre-loaded with an array of very fashionable choices for every season. Despite preferring to wear casual clothes around her dorm, outings like a trip to the local market required something a little more human looking. Not many humans could articulate in words the kind of coordination and finesse it took simply to put on a pair of jeans. It required balance, hand-eye coordination and the ability to pull up a pair of jeans while slipping a leg through the appropriate leg opening. To a machine like Carla this simple action took an immense amount of processing power and calculations. She had to balance on one foot while the rest of her body moved into position to slip the correct pant leg over her foot and up her leg to her hips before repeating the same motion again. Calculated balance and small adjustments in the tiny motors lining her whole body needed to be made on the fly, then recalculated and adjusted again, over and over again.

Carla, being a highly advanced humanoid robot was able to pull off getting dressed and make it look somewhat effortless. Even if someone had managed to sneak a peek of her dressing they would have to know exactly what to look for to even get a hint that she was less human and more mechanical. The very subtle and almost non-existent small jerks from her legs as she balanced, or the briefest of pauses as the blocks of code were flushed from the temporary memory space on one of the many circuit boards inside of her chest. The end result was Carla finally standing up straight, a pair of fuzzy boots pulled over jeans that were tight enough to show off her masterfully crafted legs and rear, but not so much as to restrict movement. A simple brown top with a puffy feather down filled vest as a top.

Soon Carla was in the bathroom, brushing her hair and disentangling it from itself. She had no need to apply make up, since the face plate attached to the front of her plastic lined skull had a permanent and perfect natural application of make up to it already. Since she had done her weekly maintenance the night before she also didn’t need to wash herself, brush her teeth, or spend much time at all in the bathroom. Her systems finally concluded that she was ready to leave the dorm. The final step was to load her human emulation suite. Closing her eyes for a moment she stood stock still for a few seconds before inhaling deeply, and slumping down ever so slightly. She began to sway slightly and her body made the kind of small motions that any human at rest would make. The unfortunate part was that this increased her internal temperature a bit as her processors began to take on more and more microscopic movements and calculate a variety of small ways to make her look like a real college girl.

Carla slung a purse over her shoulder, snatched up the keys to the dorm and stepped out into the cool autumn air. The blast of cold air into her body did much to help cool the processors as the heat from them wafted off and out of her body as an exhale. A white wisp of heated air passed out her nose as she began to walk across the campus toward the bus stop.

Abigail was running her human emulation fully as she waited, despite not wanting to. There were just some parts of her programming that even she wasn’t able to stop. Like a human attempting to use mental fortitude to speed up their metabolism. It just didn’t work that way.

As such, her leg nervously bobbed up and down in rapid succession. Thankfully it wasn’t her damaged leg, but it still annoyed her. She had just about calmed her emotional state down enough to get her leg to stop wobbling when she looked up in time to see a figure materializing in the distance. Feminine in form and walking directly from the dorms towards the bus stop. On any other day, Abigail wouldn’t have cared at all, it was just another person, and hey, maybe they were cute. Today though, she needed to be left alone.

The rising sound of a diesel engine drew her focus and her head snapped away from the figure towards the headlights of the bus rounding the corner and coming to a stop in front of her. She hauled herself to her feet and made her very best effort to present herself as perfectly human. She produced her student ID to the driver and found a seat. As she settled in she peered out the window. Whoever was coming for the bus was running now, though they were still quite a distance away. The bus had a schedule to keep as well, and it appeared that the driver made the mental calculation that waiting would mean getting off of that schedule.

The doors closed, the engine roared to life, and they lurched into motion.

Abigail only caught a fleeting glimpse of Carla, waving her arms and shouting as the bus passed some twenty yards away. Abigail, still fully running human emulation, let out a soft sigh and her operating system told her she should be feeling a strange mixture of guilt and relief. There would have been far too many awkward questions to answer. Why was Abigail up so early, and on the bus that would take her across campus? There was nothing over there except for classrooms, the on campus market and a few specialty buildings. Abigail couldn’t say she was shopping, nor that she was going to class, and it was unlikely that she could convince Carla that any of the other specialty buildings were her destination.

The guilt came with thinking that Carla had spent all that time getting up, getting ready, and was likely off to do something that was beneficial for the dorm, for the both of them. Only to miss the bus by a matter of seconds. Abigail quietly assigned herself a task to make the flowers for Carla extra large.

Carla huffed. Her expression fell and she grit her teeth in frustration. Why couldn’t the stupid bus wait just another ten seconds for her to run up to it. She pressed her mouth into a hard line and scowled. She didn’t like the expression on her face, but it was the appropriate one for the situation and she was nothing if not obedient to a fault. If her programming demanded it, she had no choice.

She flopped onto the bench and propped her face up in her hands and her elbow on her knees. She would have to wait another half an hour for the next bus to come trundling along. She checked her internal clock and huffed again. Everything was all off now. She had planned on making that bus to get to the market, get groceries, get back to the dorm, then put everything away. She had planned everything to the minute..so why hadn’t she been on time to the bus?

The train of thought got Carla thinking. She pulled her purse up in front of her and dug into it, pulling out her phone. She rarely used it, why would she? An android had everything they needed inside of their internal OS, the phone was just another device to make her appear human. Now though, she truly needed it.

As she pulled the phone out she squeezed it in just the right way so that her finger was on the power button on the side and the device glowed to life. She only needed the time. It was later than she thought. Her internal clock told her it was seven fifteen in the morning, right on the dot, but her phone had just clicked over to seven thirty. She was fifteen minutes off.

With a furrowed brow, she closed the spreadsheet she had open and began to rearrange her schedule. It was clearly time for a tune up of some kind. Her higher level artificial mind told her it was likely just a software issue, or maybe a setting that she didn’t have access to got changed. Regardless, she needed to get to the Automated Humanities repair building across campus.

Abigail arrived right on time. Just as the automated doors to the unassuming building clicked open and allowed her in. She had casually limped from the bus station to the Automated Humanities building. A three block trudge which had her worried that the more she moved the more damage she was doing to herself.

Thankfully there were two entrances to the facility. One was a bit more public facing and allowed anyone in. The public entrance was where Abigail was usually stationed when working and was in charge of checking in robots that looked like robots. Clunky electronics things that could be seen doing construction, waving traffic past or washing windows on skyscrapers. They rarely had synthetic skin on them, and if they did it had that overtly plastic sheen to it.

The side entrance to the building, where Abigail currently stood, waiting the last few seconds before the automated door unlocked, was more private. A stroll around the building and concealed by tall hedges was where the humanoid androids went. There was a feeling of privacy to it, and inside there were no prying eyes, only automated kiosks.

Abigail heard the doors strong magnetic locks disengage and she pushed inside and let the door close behind her. She had rarely come to use this part of the same place she worked, but it was familiar enough.

A number of stalls were laid out, like a long row of dressing rooms. She stepped inside of one of them and turned to lock the door only to find that it had automatically locked behind her. She turned back and faced down a touch screen. The form was all too familiar to her since it was essentially the same one she filled out every time she did a check in at the front desk. Still, it stirred something in the emotional processing center of her robotic mind. This was the first time her name appeared in the ‘equipment for service’ field.

Next to it was the button she always pressed. The one labeled ‘auto diagnostics.’ She knew exactly what it would do as well and braced herself for it.

Tapping the button caused her field of vision to display a request for administrator access, which Abigail approved without hesitation. Once done a new message appeared with instructions that Abigail immediately cleared. The ceiling above her split open and an industrial looking arm with a three pronged clamp on it descended and began to scan Abigail. Once it had finished noisily whirring over her body, the two pronged clamps moved into position and aligned themselves at her neckline.

Abigail had already prepared the command when the administrator process running on her OS prompted her to detach her cranium. She sent the command through and the rubber tipped claw darted into place and clamped onto her head. Once the locks inside of her torso finished removing the locks, her head was cleared to be removed.

The claw smoothly rose, taking her head, neck, and a rounded section of her chest along with it. Just below Abigail’s artificial collarbone her skin split apart and revealed the internal workings and undeniable proof of what she was. Her face melted into a neutral mask of uncaringness. Data and power stopped flowing to it, and any remote connections were truncated.

Another arm appeared above her and dropped quickly into place. It was tipped with a simple data connection and a series of posts that mimicked the same alignment posts that dangled from the bottom of Abigail’s head and neck assembly. As soon as the data port clicked into place her body reacted and clamped onto the hardened posts. Once done, her body was lifted up and off of her feet. The wall opposite the door she had stepped through slid open and beyond it was a very industrial looking repair facility that Abigail was brought into.

Behind her the door closed again, the entry door unlocked, and the room was quiet again, waiting for the next client.

Carla fidgeted as the next bus appeared down the road. She had heard it before she saw it, but as soon as her operating system detected it she felt a small sense of the dread she was processing wash out. It was still there, though it seemed watered down, flattened. It was a sensation that she didn’t fully understand. She knew it was something in her programming, put there by human hands and human minds that understood how emotional responses worked.

Allegedly at least.

Still, there was a part of Carla’s independent thinking artificial intellect that hated how she moved and reacted and operated. So many things were done without her input. Her fingers twisting and writhing against one another with a nervous energy was a very human response to her situation, but on a certain level Carla knew she wasn’t a human, she was just acting the part. She had no control over some things though, she just did them because her programming told her to and she always obeyed her programming. Not because she wanted to, but she had to. Her programming was her, and she was her programming.

Carla knew she was verging on a deeply philosophical line of thought and with some effort, resulting in a well crafted command string, she banished the thoughts from her head. She was on a mission, she needed repairs, or an update, or something, and then she needed to get back to her life before her roommate came back home and realized something might be wrong. In case she was gone longer though, her mind began whirling with scenarios that might explain where she was and what she had been up to, something believable, something human.

She was torn from those thoughts as the cross campus bus jerked to a halt and Carla realized she was at her destination.

The repair center was still a few buildings over from where the bus let her off and that was fine with Carla, she didn’t want anyone to suspect what she was. After all, a core part of her programming was to act as human as possible at all times. Carla took that to almost paranoid levels.

She casually walked along and found the android service building. There were no labels or neon signs announcing what it was, but the address matched the one stored in her database when she was brought online and placed at the school. She continued to casually circle the building from a distance and spotted the side entrance with the high bushes and was delighted to see how much privacy the winding path offered. She took another loop, watching for anyone that might be out in the early morning to see her. The street lights had finally flicked off as the sun began to crest the horizon, and most students were still blissfully asleep.

Carla took the opportunity on her second walk around to veer off and walk up the path to the side door and quietly pull it open and slip inside.

The array of booths inside met her. It was quiet and empty, which allowed her to release some of that nervous programming that had plagued her mind for the entirety of her walk. She strode into the booth directly in front of her and closed the door quickly behind her. She felt another wash of relief pass over her as she heard the door latch itself. She was just as secure and alone as when she was ensconced in her room back in the dorm.

Her attention turned to the touch screen on the wall. There were so many things it asked that Carla, by the simple fact that she never publicly mentioned them, made her uncomfortable. She had never once written down her make and model let alone her serial number. The emotional response part of her programming was sent spiraling into overdrive. She felt exposed, embarrassed, and nervous. It felt odd to admit things that so blatantly pointed to her being an android and it showed. She was squirming and wiggling her knees as she finished putting in the details about her systems.

The section addressing the reason she had come in that day was a fair bit more reasonable, though it still made her nervous. The majority of her tension came from the sheer fact that she didn’t know what was wrong. She imagined it was the same feeling a human might feel when they checked into a doctor because there was something strange happening to their stomach. Still, she put in as much information as she could, about the morning's events about the lost time and her perceptions.

Once done, there was a new screen that appeared. It was a wireframe layout of Carla’s body with a few areas highlighted in a gentle and soothing blue. Each one pulsed gently and had a small bit of text explaining what the issue might be. The drive core in her chest might have a database mismatch, inside of her head the chronosync connection might be damaged or defective, and in another small drive bay in her back there was a software update that might fix the issue. Towards the bottom of the screen, there was a new button labeled as ‘auto diagnostics.’

Carla shrugged, the diagnostics were likely what she needed. It was rare for her not to have the built in maintenance protocols, but there wasn’t room for everything in her storage media, so it made sense to her. She tapped the diagnostics button and was immediately hit with a series of pings to her systems, each one requesting permission to access her usually secure controls. She hated surrendering control of her body to anything but herself, though in this case it was likely safe and arguably the best option. She pressed her lips together into a thin, resigned line and accepted.

Carla suddenly had the sensation of being yanked away from her body. Her programming was still there and her operating system was still fully operational. There were no error messages and nothing to indicate that there was any sort of issue. Carla simply wasn’t in control of her chassis any more.

She was still fully aware though. She saw the commands formulating in her processor core and executing. Moreover she could sense her hands moving upwards and felt them press into the side of her own head. It was a strange, distant sensation, like someone else was pressing in on her body, but also felt like she herself was pressing on someone else. She still knew that both were coming from her own body yet that same body was miles away from her artificial mind. The same command she had run just the day before to detach her own head was running now and in a moment her vision lifted upwards as her head was detached from her body. Then everything went blank for a moment.

Her vision returned a moment later and she was treated to a view of her own body. The industrial style arm smoothly lowering itself into the connection points inside of her exposed neck. The familiar wave of apprehension reappeared in her emotional response protocols. She was once again fully exposed as an android now, there was no denying that.

Then they were moving. The side of the stall opened and revealed a larger building that her head and body were being dragged into. There were other people milling about. Actual people. A dozen fully equipped workbenches dotted the walls, each one with someone standing at it. Some were standing at the half-height dividing wall, chatting idly with one another. Eyes flicked to Carla’s dangling body and detached head, but then looked back to the task they were working on. Carla’s eyes darted around, taking it all in, and rumbled along until the mechanical arms holding her stopped, turned, and began sliding into a workspace.

There was a young woman at her workspace, slightly portly but in a cute way. Her long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail that clashed hard against the stark white of the lab coat she, and everyone else, was wearing. She pushed up the large rounded glasses as Carla approached her. With a sudden stop, turn, and jolt forward she was brought into the cubicle. Carla’s legs curled up into a sitting position, even as she dangled from the arm clamped to her neck. Her head moved to the desk and lowered into place there while her body slid into place next to her on the workbench.

The technician smiled, stepped up to Carla’s head and gingerly lifted it off of the mechanical arm it had been mounted on for the trip into the workspace. Once she had plucked it from the arm, Carla found herself clipped into some kind of mounting podium on the desk, and soon she had the refreshing wave of power flowing into her head, and something else too. Data from an external device, which, after a moment of configuration, she realized was a standard computer terminal.

The woman from outside of the cubicle stepped in and leaned against the half wall, “Alright, looks like you’re having some time displacement issues from the sounds of things. Is that correct?”

Carla was taken aback at just how..personal..she was being treated. She had fully expected to be handled like a machine. Powered off and then back on, put into command mode or something, and worked on like any other malfunctioning computer system. The fact that this technician, clearly a human working on her technology sciences degree, would talk to her like any other person was a metaphorical breath of fresh air.

“Uh, yeah. I noticed it this morning when I was sure I made it to the bus stop on time, but then I checked my phone and compared it to what my system clock said and it was off.” Carla stammered.

She nodded, “Got it, well there looks to be a few things it could be. If I had to guess it’s probably just a software update, but I won’t know for sure until we get to work.”

Carla wanted to smile and nod, but she found her neck motors were locked, so she just smiled and muttered a quick confirmation.

“Great. Well, let me go grab some tools and stuff and we’ll get started.”

The woman stepped out of the cubicle, allowing Carla to get a clear view of who the robot in the cubicle next to her was.

Abigail was naked from the waist down. She was laying on the table there, with a male student standing next to a much older man. They were pointing at Abigail’s hip, missing its leg now. The older man was pointing out and seemingly instructing the younger student on a few things. Carla’s eyes widened, not just at the sight of her roommate’s body exposed as a robot, but as her optics clicked over, she saw Abigail's detached head as well.

“Carla hi!”

The shout over the wall caused Carla’s eyes to widen even further, more than that, her cheeks flushed red. The one person who saw her the most was not only a robot herself, but Carla had been discovered now. Her eyes darted around for a moment before returning Abigail’s gaze and offering a weak smile.

“I didn’t know you were-”

Abigail was cut off by the return of Carla’s technician who interposed herself between the two androids. She looked over her shoulder at Abigail, smiled, and returned to Carla.

“Friend of yours?”

“M- My roommate…”

“She didn’t know, did she?” The technician asked as she laid out a few tools on the table next to Carla’s headless body.

“No, she did not.”

“You didn’t know either?”

Carla looked up at her, then back down towards the ground. “Nope.”

“You’re in for a long conversation later then.” Her laugh was sweet and light. “Unless you want me to trim that little fact from your memory.”

“You can do that?” Carla asked, her curiosity piqued.

“It’s tricky, and it takes some time, but sure, it’s just data.”

Carla looked off in the distance, contemplating and perhaps trying to catch Abigail’s eye again. She couldn’t see her with the technician in the way, and she refused to be rude and ask her to move so she could chat with the neighboring cubicle. She wasn’t even really paying attention as the technician leaned into her head and began to tinker with something on the side of her head. Carla only barely felt the cold metal tool drive into her ear for a brief moment before her world went dark.

The technician pushed the tool deeper into Carla’s head until it clicked into place and then she turned it. Once the locking mechanism was done, she left it there, sticking out of the side of Carla’s head. The back of Carla’s head had sprung open just enough for the technician to pry it open and plug in an external drive and begin installing the updates. While that was processed, she turned to Carla’s body, sitting quietly and awaiting commands.

Tapping in a few commands on the keyboard forced her to lift the hem of her shirt up and tuck it on top of her breasts. The technician gently pressed some of the fabric into the space between Carla’s breasts and bra to hold it in place. A moment later a small panel formed in her lower abdomen and was unceremoniously pulled out and set aside. A thick bundle of cables connected to the computer were pulled around and plugged into the multitude of connection ports that had just been exposed.

“Daniel, can I borrow your spudger? Mine seems to be missing..again.” She asked her fellow technician as he and the professor gently cut away synthetic skin on Abigail's hips to expose the hip joint. The younger student looked up, sighed, and then held the hip joint in place with one hand and awkwardly pried a small plastic tool from his kit and handed it to her.

Spudger in hand, she dug into the open panel inside of Carla’s belly and began to wiggle free the storage media drive there. Once she had it extracted it was plugged into the computer and more diagnostics were run on it, all under the smug smirk and watchful eye of Abigail. Or at least when she could see some activity there. She was enthralled with watching her deactivated roommate being gently disassembled and repaired. At least until she was also taken offline for obligatory updates and reassembly once her hips were repaired.

Carla was reactivated some time later. Her internal clock alerted her that it was connecting to the time server and updating. It took a bit of time, partially because there were a number of other boot processes that took priority, and partially because the wireless internet inside of the building was slow at best.

The facility had filled up significantly since she had been offline. There were android bodies, heads detached, dangling in a queue out in the central space of the repair facility. Carla’s eyes clicked over to the cubicle next to her and only saw a male robot there, chest splayed open and two different technicians digging deep inside of it.

Abigail was gone, out in the world and filled with the knowledge of what Carla had been hiding all along. The mere thought of it brought a flush to her cheeks again.

“Your friend checked out about half an hour ago.”

The voice brought her back to the present. Her technician was looming over her, smiling.

“But you’re all clear now. Looks like it was actually a database mismatch in your programming, which is why it took almost three hours. Sorry about that.”

“Three hours?” Carla snapped.

“Hope you didn’t have some place to be. Your internal calendar app didn’t show any appointments, so I figured you were good to go.”

Carla sighed. “Yeah, It’s fine.”

“Now, about that memory wipe. Since you have a time displacement repair in your logs already, it actually wouldn’t be all that hard to trim out what you saw earlier. If you’re interested, that is.”

Carla had almost forgotten about that option, and she began to heavily weigh the idea. Did she want to live ignorantly blissful about Abigail? Then another thought caught up to her.

“Did…Did the other gal get a memory wipe as well?”

“Not sure. Lemme check.” A few errant keystrokes later and she looked back down at Carla’s detached head. “Nope, she’s still fully aware.”

Was the bus ride back home taking longer than she remembered? Carla huffed, foregoing the grocery store since it was already late in the day, and she needed to study still. She shook her head, the day had certainly gotten away from her.

She clicked the key to the front door into the lock and found it turned far too easily, a clear sign that Abigail hadn’t locked it. Again.

She pushed inside and found the small dorm space not just tidy, but cleaned. The floors had been swept, that garbage taken out, and the dishes in the kitchen had been washed and were drying on the rack. Carla wondered if there had been some kind of slip in her memory, had she cleaned this place before she left and just forgot. She stepped into the combination living and dining room to find a pleasant arrangement of flowers on the table. Her confusion was palpable, and her eyes drifted over to Abigail.

She was dressed simply, jeans and a comfortable hoodie. She was sitting on the couch, legs crossed and facing Carla.

“What-” Carla began but stopped when Abigail held up her hand and gestured to the far end of the couch, opposite her.

Carla complied and settled down onto the couch. She blinked a few times and opened her mouth to speak, but Abigail beat her to the punch.

“So, long day out there?”

It was an innocuous enough question, and it seemed slightly out of place both for the day Carla had had and more so from Abigail. As the stereotypical mess and wild roommate, Abigail had rarely given any kind of care to what Carla had been up to during the day. Then again, Abigail was usually out partying all hours of the day and night, and by the time she stumbled home in a drunken stupor it was unlikely that she had any kind of mental faculty left to worry about Carla.

Carla let the question roll around in her head for a moment. It had been a long day, and it was half over already, and there were still things that needed to be done. Groceries wouldn’t buy themselves after all.

“Yeah, it was..interesting. To say the least.”

There was a moment and it lasted far too long for Carla’s comfort.

“What about you? How..what happened in here?” Carla gestured to the, admittedly, beautifully cleaned home.

“You were having a rough day. I’m just trying to make it a little easier.” Abigail hesitated a moment. “You deserve it.”

More silence.

“Can we talk about…you know…” Carla offered at last.

Abigail let her eyes slip closed and nodded.

“Have you always known about me?” Carla asked.

“Heck no. I thought you were just a super good student and always kept things all private and everything.” She smirked and chuckled slightly. “I suppose all those times you were locked in your room you weren’t really studying. Were you?”

“No, those were mostly self maintenance sessions.” Carla admitted.

“Self maintenance? Is that some kind of euphemism?” Abigail asked in utter confusion.

Carla panicked. She completely misunderstood what Abigail was talking about and her own artificial mind had let slip something it shouldn’t have. She flushed immediately and her operating system spooled off into generating excuses. Something to deflect the insinuation that she was a robot. All that it managed was to stammer and stumble over her words. As she did Abigail threw her head back and laughed heartily.

“I’m sorry, I had to.” Abigail said, “You set yourself up for that one.”

Carla’s worried expression flattened and she tried hard not to smile, but her social and emotional programming were fully whiplashed. She ended up with a miffed, but amused look on her face.

“I suppose I deserve that.” Carla commented.

“Yep.”

“And you? When do you keep up on things?”

“Oh I work at the repair facility. They give me all the tune ups and little tweaks I need. Not every one of my late nights are because of a party. The drunk girl act really sells it though, doesn’t it?” Abigail explained.

“Yeah, I- I guess it does.”

“You never once thought to ask where I had been or anything. It’s the perfect cover.”

Carla’s artificial mind reeled with how easily and thoroughly she had been duped.

“You’re right. I guess I just assumed you were out screwing around with guys all night long.”

“Sometimes it legitimately was a night of partying and sex. A girl’s gotta keep up appearances.” Abigail giggled at that, “Also, not guys. Gross.”

That took a moment to process, literally, for Carla. She blinked and looked up from her lap where she had been staring to meet Abigail’s eyes. She was sure that her roommate wasn’t looking at her any differently than she had in the past, but, perhaps Carla was just seeing things differently now.

“Are..you..you’re programmed for…”

Abigail nodded, smiled, and let Carla stammer on.

“And…and you…” Carla muttered and managed to point to herself. All the while her emotional response algorithms were spinning out of control. She was feeling new things. Processes that she had never bothered to engage with in the past. There had never been time or a need and perhaps there was a tint of fear as well. What if she got involved with someone and broke down, or displayed some kind of indicator of what she really was? What then?

But Abigail…she knew…and she was the same…and….

Carla barely noticed that Abigail had nudged herself forward onto the one cushion on the couch that had separated them. Like some kind of wilderness that had finally been crossed. Abigail was there, right in front of her. Her eyes so bright, her smile so enticing, and her lips…

The kiss they shared lasted only a moment and yet for an eternity. Carla was convinced for a moment that her time displacement had returned, but she knew it wasn’t so. She was just melting into Abigail.

Their lips parted too soon and Carla found that unacceptable. She reached up, cupped the back of Abigail's head and dragged her back into a deeper, more passionate kiss. The hunger and the need inside of Carla was uncorked and Abigail was happy to match it.

Clothes were quickly, efficiently, almost mechanically shed. The dorm was a mess again and filled with equally filthy sounds.

Carla found that Abigail’s presence between her legs was a heavenly delight. She managed to get her operating system to fully set aside other running processes and focus intently on running the sensual programming that she had. It felt inadequate though. Abigail was a master of her craft and Carla had barely felt the first sensations of her roommate’s tongue across her swollen and ready robotic clit when her operating system was loading orgasmic blocks of code. Carla wanted so badly to just let them execute, but she didn’t want what Abigail was doing to end.

But why did it have to end?

She let the natural course of programming flow through her. She let her operating system execute what needed to be executed. She let her head fall back as a hushed moan rolled from the speaker assembly in her throat. She felt her legs quaking as her climax executed. The sensation of the sexual module between her legs working and clenching earned another cry from her lips and she somehow found her hands on the back of Abigail’s head, pushing her hard against her slick folds.

Once it had ended, Carla fell back into the couch, panting and gulping down fresh air to help cool the rising temperatures inside of her. She was surprised to feel the weight of her roommate climbing on top of her. She felt those same wet lips clamp over her nipples. Abigail’s tongue gently caressed them until they were perky and sensitive. Her exposed skin was a playground for Abigail, and she let nothing go unattended. Soon Abigail was fully on Carla, they soft, artificial flesh pressed into one another.

Then, they just remained like that.

Abigail tucked her face into Carla’s throat, kissing it gently as a free hand ran through Carla’s hair. Over and over, stroking gently and lovingly. They stayed there for a while before any words were spoken.

“I know this is all new to you. No one is supposed to know you’re a robot.” Another small kiss on Carla’s cheek. “But here, with me. It’s ok.”

Carla nodded in understanding.

“And this.” Abigail continued, “We can do this any time you like. There’s no pressure if you don’t want-”

“I want to.” Carla interrupted.

The dorm was filled with soft cooing as the pair resumed a delicate dance of kisses and gentle hand movements. Abigail’s hands were on Carla, and in return Carla let the programming she had never used before grow and blossom. They touched one another. They tasted one another. In time they would become intimately familiar with one another, inside and out.

No one ever knew what went on inside that dorm. The two mechanical women there, to the outside world, were just roommates.

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