The Virus

Commissioned by Screenshot

An alarm clock sounds off in the early morning. The split second after exactly 3 rings, a hand shoots out from under the covers and presses a button on the top to silence it. 2B rises out of her bed, and sits in place for a moment. Her pure white hair droops over her face. Covering her eyes. She brushes them out of the way and stands up. Her morning routine is very exact. With such restrained programming, certain things are given more weight than others. So her solitary mornings are formulaic to save on memory. She waits in bed, eyelids closed but subconsciously keeps her system running all the same. She stands up at the 3rd ring of her alarm. She dresses herself in one of her almost identical daily outfits. She doesn’t need to eat, she doesn’t need to perform much maintenance. So she just waits until it is time to get on the train and go to her job.

Her walk is fairly standard. She is dressed in a grey pencil skirt. The one thing she adjusts about her outfit is her tights. During the winter months she will have a pair of nylon tights on each day. But since it is summer, her bare legs are on display. A white blouse and a grey jacket, matching with her skirt. It is a little boring, but it is the epitome of office dressing. She lives for her job, so she dresses for her job. She walks with surprising grace for a machine. Each step is exact and perfect. Her feet meet in the middle in that stunning model walk. The clicking of her heels are loud. While her system is built from incredibly lightweight materials, there is nothing to be done about the weight of a machine. So her heels were specially made for her by the clothes shop she usually goes to. They got tired of seeing her every week back with a broken heel, so they really reinforced the pair she has now.

Finally she arrives at her building. A large brutalist structure, made of a drab grey with shaded windows. Certainly not the most exciting place of business.

But she has no hang ups of that variety. Her programming is not disturbed by the depressing architecture. It is all the same to a robot. She walks in and greets the receptionist. “Good morning 60.” She says plainly. “Good morning to you too 2B. Hope you have a nice day!” The woman responds. Without batting an eye or slowing down, 2B ploughs through the hall and makes her way to the elevator. It doesn’t take long for her to reach her desired floor. She works on the fourth floor in sales. She analyses projected profits and earnings to give information for her fellow employees. She was always good with numbers, one of her primary skills. Considering her robotic nature, this is not something too remarkable.

She arrives at her floor and walks through the hall. Few other people litter the office. Some in their cubicles working, others standing around the coffee machine as they chat. Warm cups in hand. “Ah, good morning 2B! Ready for the meeting tomorrow?” Someone says as they approach the bot. She has dark hair and tasteful makeup accentuating her face's best features. She is 2B’s boss, Anemone.

“The presentation is almost done, I just need to incorporate Tifa's report which should be done already.” 2B responds. Tifa is one of her colleagues here, and one that she works quite close with. They have quite similar jobs, just sharing the duties. So while they don't spend all day with each other, they often collaborate on reports and presentations. Tomorrow is the monthly projections meeting, so it's quite important to be prepared.

“Alright! Good to hear. Have a nice day, alright?” Anemone says with a sincere smile. 2B simply smiles. Then returns to a neutral expression. She simply acts out the standard social performances her system knows. When being smiled at, it is polite to smile back. Once the smile has been executed, she can return to normal.

Anemone is used to 2B’s more simple nature. Her programming is a bit more advanced than the average worker here. It is what affords her the position she is in.

Most of the company is ordered by computational complexity. Some other branches and departments are ran by more complicated robots. The Ceo’s were visiting branches one by one. Amenome’s has already been cleared as performing as expected and to continue on. She heard the most recent branch visited was the one White ran.

2B wanders off to her computer. She watches intently as it boots up. Not able to recognise the implications of a machine such as her using this computer. A computer with significantly less impressive specs than her own. She loads up her preferred set of tabs. Her email, her current project, and any relevant links for said project. She peruses her inbox. She moves the mouse in an almost odd way. No wasted movements. Exact hard lines straight forward to the location she needs to click. There are a few new unread messages in her inboxes, so she opens them up and goes through them one by one.

As 2B makes her way through the emails, someone else enters the office. Tifa walks in, her strong legs carrying her step by step. “Good morning Anemone!” She says. She has a similar construction to 2B. They are both very limited in their thinking and actions. But Tifa is programmed with much more bubbly and upbeat dialogue in her system. The two begin chatting a little, just about what they did at home last night. Tifa barely did anything so Anemone carries most of the conversation.

2B finds an email sent from Tifa. The subject line is a bizarre string of letters and numbers, but it instantly registers to 2B. Her computer easily interprets long incomprehensible text like this instantaneously. One of the benefits of having a processor instead of a brain. It contains an attachment, the report 2B was referring to earlier. She begins the download as Tifa walks past.

“Hi 2B! I sent you an email with the report!” She says, waving her arm. “Hi Tifa. I am downloading the report now. Thank you.” 2B responds, swivelling in her chair to face her. “Good! Let me know if you need to ask me about any details” She tells her, which receives a simple nod from 2B. “Well, I am going to start working. Would you like me to bring you a coffee?” She asks the white haired woman. “I am full from this morning, so I am fine. Thank you.” 2B replies. Obviously this isn’t true, 2B doesn’t eat ever. But as a robot, the script that she follows does make her believe she is human. Replacing memories of robotic evidence, a perception filter that completely prevents any understanding that she could be mechanical. So she believes she is full from breakfast. Or at least as much as her very limited AI can truly believe anything. 2B turns back to her computer. The download is complete, so she loads it up and starts reading. As she reads, Tifa makes her way to her own desk and takes a seat too. They are only a few cubicles away from each other, but they do not share a divider.

2B is a robot. So when she uses the computer, it is an incredibly redundant process. But she doesn’t know she can connect to it. So she doesn’t plug a wire from her into the computer or anything. But sometimes her system uses certain workarounds to save time. One such system is the way she reads files. As she downloads the file to the computer, she also downloads it wirelessly. It loads onto her system so that she can instantly understand it, without needing to go down and read every word visually. Her camera doesn’t need to see it all to have read it. She doesn’t understand that this is happening. She doesn’t really recognise her own actions, but if she did, she would just assume she was a speed reader. So within moments she has already read and comprehends the whole 20 page report. It’s partly what makes her such a good employee, despite her social limitations and overall simple mind.

Tifa begins her morning similarly. Powering on her computer, logging in to all the relevant websites. She is midway on creating some figures, so she quickly jumps back into that without doing much else. Tifa is also a robot, just like 2B. The both of them type quite slowly. Their fingers need to be incredibly limber and sophisticated to match a human's typing speed. And their assembly is just not on that level. So they type out each letter one at a time. Not exactly a crawl, but nothing impressive either.

2B continues to check her emails. But she happens upon a bit of an odd one. The subject line is just ones and zeros. She expands the email to find it empty save for a single attachment. Not having the common sense to ignore things like this, 2B’s simple robotic mind happily downloads the file and waits for it to load. The files find themselves right within her primary recent folder. Right in her central internal Solid State Drive. Her program then launches it to investigate its contents. And something happens. The smallest short circuit interrupts her system. A little electrical current runs through the interlocking wires that make up her body. Dashing from part to part. Hitting her central processing system, her RAM, her storage, her motherboards, all of it. It clicks suddenly, and she slumps in her chair ever so slightly. Not enough to fall, so no one notices. She just lays there.

Ten minutes pass. Her body was completely still that entire time. Mysterious things slowly creep inside of her code. Eventually something moves. Her finger twitches once. The smallest little action. Then nothing for a little while longer. Now two fingers move. The same little jitter, and only for a moment. Then the same thing happens on her other hand. Her fingers move on their hinges. First the very tip of her pointer moves up, then down. Then the second segment. Finally, the whole finger moves using the hinge on the knuckle.

Her eyes flicker for a moment, but the eyelids remain closed after. The slow regaining movement crawls up her arm. Her wrist explores the bounds of its movement. Rotating on the spherical joint within her body. Next comes the elbow. Her arm swings up and down, gently at first but quickly picking up speed. This continues on for a while. Each and every part of her body is slowly moved and manipulated one by one. As this odd process continues, she even starts to move two things at once, three, then four. Eventually her eyes open once more. The little cameras within automatically focus on the screen in front of her. She studies the image of her cubicle. As if this familiar place is now somehow new to her.

Her body moves asynchronously. Each part independent of each other. Her body jerks in odd ways, until finally she is sitting back up in her chair where she started. Her neck cranes to the left then to the right. Rotating a little past the usual human limits would allow. But soon enough it returns to its normal position and stares forward. Her mouth opens and closes. Her nose twitches. Then finally a noise escapes her lips. It is a small noise, not loud enough to cut through the cacophony of keyboard typing. Not any real words. Just cycling through vowel sounds, but quickly. Almost a yelp.

She continues to make soft, bizarre noises. Until finally, she mutters “2… B…” Her mouth opens and closes, with only occasional noises joining the movements. “The presentation is almost done… need to incorporate Tifa's report…” She manages after a few more minutes. “Did you need something 2B?” Tifa asks. She was just walking by, grabbing something from the printer near the end of the hall and overhead what the bot was saying. Not making out the full sentence but recognising her name. “T-tifa” 2B stutters out, turning to look at the woman behind her. The turn is awkward. She swivels her head to the right, about 90 degrees. Then her upper body. Almost stretching out her chair. Then her lower body. She is now directly facing the wall that is next to her. Then the process happens all over again to complete the 180 motion. One part of her body at a time.

Tifa patiently waits for the movement to complete. She does not have the brain or critical thinking to identify anything too odd from this behaviour. It is not even like her system comes up with simple excuses to explain. There is nothing to explain when the input is barely interpreted. “Tifa.. report…” 2B says, continuing her broken sentence from before. “Was there an issue with the report? I can send it again” Tifa replies. “Send…” 2B repeats. “Alright! I will in a few moments.” Tifa finishes with a smile. She heads off to the printer.

2B continues to stare at the place Tifa was moments ago. Not truly reacting to her leaving. She began to take shaky movements to stand up. Placing all of her weight on one foot and carefully raising. Then shifting half of it to her other foot. Standing firmly in place. She starts walking down the hall. Placing one foot in front of the other quite slowly, but steadily.

She treks a path ingrained deeply in her system. The walk to the bathroom. She heads there like she has so many times before. The memory banks in her body hold the often accessed data. She finds her way to the restroom and enters the closest stall. She stares forward for a moment then takes a seat. As a robot she does not need to use the toilet, and she never has. But her body still regularly makes a trip to the restroom in keeping with human behaviour. She goes twice a day, every day. At the same time each day. She rides her skirt up so that her clothes don't come in contact with the toilet seat. Then she begins to pull down her panties.

She puts only one arm in place first. Taking most things one at a time. Her fingers push against her skin about 20 centimetres above the waist band. Then she moves them down, not changing their position until they hook her underwear. She begins to pull it downwards. But the waistband almost instantly tears. With nothing making it cling to her body, it falls slack to the floor. Half in tatters.

Her coding usually has parameters in order to limit her strength and ability. Even the most rudimentary robot is leagues stronger than any human. But in order to adjust to society and work within human understanding, their power must be bound. But as this odd change has affected her body, that kind of precision must be learned again. So while walking that type of thing won’t matter particularly much, here it does.

All the same, she sits down on the cool toilet seat. She stares forward for exactly 45 seconds doing nothing. There is no waste to deposit, even liquids are better disposed of through other maintenance methods. So she waits. Finally once the allotted time has completed, she stands back up. She reaches down to grab the tattered panties. She pulls them back up as if still fully intact. This time she manages to pull each side up at the same time, using both of her arms. But once she releases her grip around her pubic area, it just limply drops back down. Her silicone vagina remains gleefully exposed. It is covered up slightly when she drops her skirt back down.

She leaves the stall, the panties still on the ground right in front of the toilet. She makes her way back to her desk, still just as slow as before. Tracing back the exact path she took to get there. She finds the chair, still facing the hallway. She takes a seat and stares forward for a moment longer.

But eventually she twists her body back to face her desk. She raises her arms once again. Extends her pointer fingers out and holds them above the keyboard. They hang in the air for a second. But ever so slowly they are brought down, and collide with the keyboard. At first it is barely even enough force to push in the key. But the strength slowly increases, allowing the key to sink in. Once it reaches the bottom of the input, her force continues to slowly grow. But when nothing changes and more pressure is applied to the keyboard she finally stops. She raises her fingers up and performs the same action again, but at a quicker pace than before.

One after another she presses keys. Not moving around the keyboard, not typing anything real. Just clicking buttons at regularly shortening intervals. Eventually matching the pace of the co-workers on either side of her dividers. But her computer displays the complete lack of meaning behind her actions. The repeated characters “J” and “D” repeat over and over. As time goes on, they begin to span pages and pages. Interrupting a sentence right in the middle of Tifa’s report.

There is a reason for all of this odd behaviour. The email 2B had received earlier contained malware. But it is not some normal virus, instead it has slowly evolved and adapted to spread and host more and more technology. Now it inhabits 2B’s central processing system, giving orders to her complicated machinery instead of letting her stay in control. 2B was only ever a set of scripts, and now the virus can freely manipulate her programming, dialogue, movement, everything. 2B is gone, her shell remains. Although it’s debatable if she was ever there to begin with. Is something considered “taken over” if the spot was empty to begin with? It took a long time for it to learn all the different movement mechanisms, especially how to control them in tandem. But now it is more comfortable in her artificial skin. It doesn’t have a mind. In that sense it is similar to 2B. It is closer to an amoeba. It's only goal is expansion. And this office full of robots is a buffet.

Then someone comes walking down the hall and stops at 2B’s cubicle. “2B?” 6O asks. The same receptionist that greeted her in the morning. 2B turns in her chair again to face her. She repeats the same oddly structured movement but has considerably improved at it. It almost even looks natural, like how she would have before this happened to her.

“I just got a memo from someone. Said they needed you in the conference roo…” She begins to trail off. 6O stares at the machine. 2B sits in her chair a little abnormally. She is not as careful to hold her knees together as she otherwise would be. Another simple social consideration soft coded in the program that is not being understood anymore. Usually this would be a little indecent and maybe earn her a couple looks from humans or the more developed robots around her. But now that she has had the little mishap in the bathroom, this embarrassing act has become explicit. 6O lowers her gaze ever so slightly, and looks between 2B’s legs. Her legs are sitting apart, and her tiny pencil skirt is just short enough to allow 6O a glimpse at 2B’s exposed pussy. “W-where are your panties?” She hurriedly whispers, shocked at the display. She can see the folds of her artificial genitals plain as day. The gentle pink colour along the inside. Perfectly shaven. Of course her body can not grow body hair. Instead it just looks professionally waxed 24/7.

2B has had the time to run over sound files, memory files, and programming long enough now. Finally a fully formed response escapes her lips. “They ripped in the bathroom.” She responds. Recounting the event she experienced as simply as possible. “B-but…” 6O stutters in response, not really knowing how to process this information. A simulated blush quickly spreads across her face. She can’t help but find the image exciting. How could she not. But this is a place of business, not pleasure. Though despite the fact she keeps reminding herself of that, her mechanical impulses are out of her control.

6O has always found 2B attractive. But then suddenly seeing her privates on a random day like this is sending her spiralling. She continues to stutter and murmur a little bit. “W-why are you sitting like that though? Don’t you want to hide it?” She asks, trying to make sense of the situation. Even while her computer processes all of her excited feelings. “What do you mean?” 2B asks. There is a brief moment where she truly does sound sincere. Something her robotic body and incredibly simple programming struggles to ever even imitate. In order for the Virus to integrate into this position, it does have some self preservation instincts. It avoids danger and seeks to expand. The biggest part of avoiding danger is making sure it is never detected. If someone finds out 2B has been hijacked by a virus, she will be sent to her manufacturer and wiped clean. The virus doesn’t “know” this. It doesn’t particularly know anything in the sense that it doesn’t have its own systems. But its actions are influenced by a drive to remain hidden.

“Should I hide it?” 2B asks 6O. 6O pauses for a moment and thinks. “W-well to be honest the boss doesn’t usually mind when the women dress all skimpy…” She mutters. “And you are really pretty… S-so you know” She blurts out, unable to really hold herself back. “Do you like it?” 2B asks. Slowly gathering more and more information through this crucial first true interaction with another. “I- ummm…” 6O says. Still so embarrassed at the situation. Being asked that question so point blank right in the office. As people type, talk and work around her.

6O is more sophisticated than 2B is. As the receptionist, she has to deal with a lot more human clientele than anyone else. So if that is to go smoothly, she requires a pretty well worked conversational system. So she is able to engage socially far better than most of the other rank and file bots at the office. She is more similar to their boss than to her fellow employees. But even then she is not human. She does not think. And her understanding of social circumstance is purely implanted, not naturally conceived of. So when faced with a situation so outlandish, her standard programming doesn’t always reply and she can answer honestly.

“W-well yeah of course. You are gorgeous. And god that place is no different…” 6O tells her. Staring into that forbidden zone under 2B’s skirt. Admiring her. She can’t stop the signals that rush to her brain. Signals that cause desire, sexual need, and all sorts of imitation emotions designed to influence her programming. Instructing it on what goals to pursue.

2B takes a moment before saying anything. That is interesting information. This woman seems to be staring with complete allure. Almost devotion. Though these nuances are completely lost on both of them. Something that presents itself despite no one present being able to appreciate or even understand these sorts of things.

“Well, I can not replace my underwear until I get home. But if it makes you uncomfortable I could do something about it.” She says. “U-uhm well no it doesn’t… bother me” 6O says. Unsure of how to act. Unable to reconcile the two directives her programming is fixated on. Being professional, conforming to office regulations. And the undeniable desire to drop everything she is doing and get on her knees. Service the sexy woman in front of her.

The virus is unable to think. Not in any way similar to humans. It is just a set of instincts, like an insect. But it has “realised” that 6O is staring more between her legs than at 2B’s face. She won’t notice the messy facial movements. The way she is far too still and rigid. The fact that she struggles to move multiple things at once still. 6Oi’s eyesight is just glued between her legs. It seems her sexual organs are incredibly captivating. Now an experiment is in order. Does this apply to secondary sexual characteristics?

2B looks down at her shirt. And begins to undo the first button on her shirt. “W-wait what are you doing now!?” 6O exclaims, still trying to be as quiet as she can. “It was too tight for me. My breasts felt constricted” 2B says, as she undoes the second button too and stops there. Low and behold, 6O now blatantly stares into her chest. The exposed cleavage is perfectly robust. The very top of her black lace bra can be seen. Her glistening skin exposed to the air. Her shirt struggles more to contain her chest even with her bra aiding in holding it back. The third button is strained as the last barricade.

At this point her boss begins to walk past. She was just on her way for a bathroom break, but notices 6O standing awkwardly in the hall staring into a cubicle. She decides to investigate. She arrives at the astonished receptionist. 6O yelps when she notices Anemone. “M-miss!” She just says, unable to figure out any other words to explain the situation. Then anemone looks to see what has demanded so much of 6O’s attention. She finds 2B heavily exposed. Her skirt wide open, without any underwear to shield her privacy. And multiple buttons undone, giving her chest and bra a large focus. “2B? What is the meaning of this?” She simply asks. A blush quickly appears, matching 6O’s own.

2B turns her neck awkwardly to look at her boss. “Just a wardrobe malfunction miss.” 2B says to her. Staring almost blankly at the woman. Anemone squints her eyes ever so slightly. It is bizarre behaviour from 2B, that is for sure. But she doesn’t seem to be acting erratically. Her movements aren’t glitched, just a little odd. Though while she is trying to identify these aspects of her behaviour, it is difficult not to get distracted by the glaring eroticism of the scene before her. That is the difference between other offices and this one. While this sort of thing would be quite the big deal at a workplace full of people, these women are robots. Some of them are barely complex enough to even imitate usual social etiquette. So it's not like thai will interrupt the whole office and cause a scene. But sexuality is the one thing that can still affect these bots. Even the simplest model type still has a programmed pleasure response. So it's best to just send her home. Not wanting to deal with the situation very much more, and being too embarrassed to call her out directly, Anemone quickly resolves it. “I-if you need some clothes you are allowed to go home early. You can work on the presentation from there anyway, so as long as that's done it's fine.” She tells her.

2B nods. She turns back to her computer and shuts it off. Once it powers down she reaches for her bag and stands. She says goodbye to the two astonished robots speaking to her. “I will see you tomorrow” She says before walking away. 6O just stares awkwardly at the ground. Anemone sighs and covers her face with her hand. Whether out of pity to 2B or a thinly veiled attempt to hide her blush is up for interpretation. Interpretation that most of these robots are wholly incapable of ever performing.

The journey back home is very simple. 2B’s data storage contains lots of information about how to return to her apartment, so locating it isn’t an issue. However she never bothers to button her top back up. So 2B does begin to learn just how distracting that is. So many people stop to stare at her. But never her face, her hands, or any possible give-aways to her newly infected robotic nature. Only the sexual organs on display. After hundreds of peering eyes have taken their time to memorise the bot’s physique, she steps off the train and returns to her apartment. Her steps are awkward. Not bad enough to impair her completely, but they are laboured and slow. Each hinge being activated and manipulated, but barely communicating with each other. Acting almost autonomously at the virus’ instructions. But the complexities of her body still are hard to properly move in totality. She fishes her keys from out of her handbag and lets herself inside. The apartment is cold and empty, like it always is. The colder temperature is soothing to her processors, so her system tries to maintain a bit of a chilly atmosphere. Especially during the hotter months like it is right now.

2B places her bag to the side and sits at her desk. There is a single fake plant in a grey pot at the corner of the table, as well as her laptop plugged into a charger right in the centre. Her entire apartment is assembled with these almost horrifyingly simple effectiveness. She glances about the room. Not exactly pulled towards anything. Instead she gazes down at herself. She looks at the two mounds on her chest that seemed to demand such attention. They overwrite the mind of anyone who sees enough of them. 2B begins to strip out of her clothing, dropping it all onto the floor. Attached to the back of her bedroom door is a mirror. She did not put it there, it was left by the prior tennant. Her programming never made time to remove the item, because it never saw any need to cleanse the room of useless items. It just didn’t add any new ones.

But finally the full length mirror has a purpose, as 2B stares into her reflection. Her naked body is on full display. She surveys her curvy figure. Observing her robust chest, dainty waist and lucious hips. She gently grasps her right breast, palpating the heavy silicone imitation. Signals are sent to her central processing systems. They are incredibly light, only giving the order to increment her aroused status by the tiniest of margins, but nonetheless it is odd. The virus was not particularly aware of these variables. It is a new aspect of the body it is manipulating that must be understood. She squeezes and grasps herself, taking careful measures of the various signals sent to her brain. There are measures of touch, of pain, and pleasure. She doesn’t “experience” these feelings. But is almost informed of them. When humans experience pain, it is a warning to their conscious brain to avoid that danger. When they experience pleasure it is an incentive to reproduce. But this is a robot, who has no need for incentives and warnings. Instead these feelings are used to instruct behaviour. “This action causes X amount of pain. It is above the minimum threshold so cease action”

However it is different for pleasure. Pleasure is a metric given to robots largely to fill the desires of humans. They can not reproduce and have no need to, so there is no action to incentivise. But rather humans find it attractive to know their partner is experiencing pleasure. To know they are doing a good job. So for a robot in a vacuum, without the input of a human, it is almost a redundant feature. But a feature regardless. They can not turn off their arousal functions, nor would they especially want to. While they don’t have a mind to convince, they are still told by their programming to “enjoy” pleasure. It is a signal to be sought after if possible. And is hard to resist.

The virus does not understand all of the finer details of this. But it quickly learns the nature of these signals and that 2B’s programming responds positively towards it. If it weren’t for the virus interrupting her usual systems, 2B would attempt to increase her arousal parameter once it has met a certain threshold. And as the virus continues to rub and tease her chest, that threshold is met.

She reaches out and investigates the pinkish nub at the end of her chest. Once she makes contact with the nipple it is clear just how much more sensitive it is. Suddenly the quiet build of signals becomes a sudden rush. Pleasure signals and even pain signals. A normal amount of force is far too much for that part, it must be treated more carefully. Not because the material is any weaker, but just because her programming was built to emulate human behaviour.

Could this sensation be what causes the undo attention? A desire to maximise this output and increase certain signals. Signals programmed to be sought after and enjoyable? The virus reaches down between 2B’s legs to better inspect her vagina. She uses two fingers to pull the labia apart and gazes into the orifice. Her artificial privates are completely perfect. Smooth, ideal, picturesque. But just as begins to poke and prod, she is astonished by the new wave of signals. They are slow and steady at first, but still topping out considerably higher than anything received from contact with the breasts. But the more surprising fact is that the signals seem to exponentially increase in value. Not just a slow linear increase. The virus’ assumed parameters were woefully undercut in mere moments.

Systems begin to kick into gear. As new thresholds are met, mechanical processes are executed. A red LED begins to shine under her cheeks, causing a blush across her face. An incredibly slippery and lubricating liquid secrets out of her vaginal cavity. It quickly coats her fingers, cutting down on any friction heavily. The fake breathing program increases its pace, almost as if she is running. Her pants become louder and more frequent than before.

As this continues to happen, the virus can’t help but slide her fingers all over her pussy. Rubbing over the labia and ever so slightly dipping into the slit before being removed again. The higher the values go the more she feels the need to speed up. To be more frantic. A drop of the liquid makes its way to the floor. Then a second. The virus becomes sloppier with its movements. It’s not as if it’s control is waning, in fact it is improving by the second. But as it is more comfortable piloting the robot, it feels less of a need to be careful and precise. It is still far from convincing. It may never truly be. However it is gaining the ability to actually perform the actions it desires to. Just without the second layer of appearing normal or stable. Eventually her fingers stray just high enough to reach the slightly bulbous section near the top of her vagina. And suddenly a loud gasp escapes her lips. The involuntary mechanism triggered by even just the lightest touch of her clit. The robot attempts a second touch and the same thing happens. A moan-like yelp forces its way out. She begins to gently circle her clit with her index finger, feeling the rising and falling signals as she approaches and retreats. She has finally found what manipulates the arousal mechanism the most.

The robot feels her legs almost quiver. They are becoming less responsive to the commands being sent as time goes on. The continued assault on her privates being the culprit. So she stumbles back a little bit and collapses onto her bed. Not letting her fingers leave her pussy for even a moment. She plunges her index and middle finger deep inside of her with one hand, and teases the clit with the other. The noise of slick fingers rubbing against silicone material begins to fill the room as her pace increases. Being almost unable to slow down even a smidge.

The robot loses track of time. Not taking any consideration for anything besides the signals flooding into her brain and the movement of her fingers between her legs. For a while that was all that matters and all that exists. But eventually, she reaches a climax. Her body twitches, the signals hit the final threshold. And with a large squeal, she simulates an orgasm. A rush of electrical impulses rush through her entire body, almost blanking her entire system. Once it is done she needs a second to reach out to all of her components and run a diagnostics check before she can do anything. It was intense.

She opens her eyes and sits up. The robot goes to the living room and takes a seat at her desk. She swings the laptop open and finds the time is 7:13pm. She has plenty before returning to the office the next day at 9. So she knows what she must do. This is too powerful of a tool to ignore. It distracts people from noticing her odd new behaviour. She slowly extends her fingers and begins typing. Now she is able to actually type out sentences. Yet it still is even slower than her glacial standard pace. She begins to search for whatever sexual content she can find. Since robots are not known for their creativity, the searches themselves are not particularly interesting. She searches google using various key terms for sexual organs and moves to the images tab. Her system identifies and analyses each and every image she can find. Her fingers are still a little slimy from earlier as she scrolls through the almost endless content. The information doesn’t serve to massively change her understanding of things. She does not have a sophisticated computer that can run complex heat maps and compile all of this data to better improve her understanding. Instead she just gains familiarity with the subject.

She continues for a while, until an arbitrary internal clock tells her to go to bed. She does just that, shutting the laptop and walks into her room. She finds her way to the bed and climbs in. There is a sizable wet spot near the middle from her earlier pleasure session. It does not bring any discomfort. This robot could never experience feeling comfortable. It is a jumbled mess of code being hijacked by another jumbled mess of code. Her eyelids shut and her system goes into a resting mode to conserve power and cool her CPU. Night turns to day as she lays in bed waiting for the morning to come.

Rays of light creep out between the cracks in her blinds. Her eyes flicker open and she sits up in her bed. She doesn’t need to keep the room dark at night, but she also doesn’t need the lights on. She has built in night vision features that make it incredibly easy to make her way around regardless. One function that was hard to apply to robots was smell. There are absolutely ways to do that, but it requires some higher end sensors that aren’t really worth the investment. So the bot is mostly unaware of odour. In order to ensure cleanliness however, she has a feature that instructs her to wash herself every few days. There is less of an urgency than humans. No sweat particles, skin oils, or other biological processes to create filth. But naturally they do accumulate some amount of mess as the days go by.

2B immediately heads to her bathroom and turns on the shower. She always keeps her eyes and mouth closed the entire time she is in the shower. It is not as if she is at risk. Robots like her have pretty high water resistance, but it's not worth testing it each week. She quickly begins to wash herself. But slows when her hands pass by her privates. An action this body has taken thousands of times. But now with the virus in her CPU and the experience last night, hesitation arrives. Her fingers move back and forth, cleaning the crevice more and more. The dried lubricating liquid did require a bit more scrubbing than the rest of her body. But she continued even once the residue was long gone.

The levels begin to rise. Her simulated breathing becomes more ragged. She finishes up in the bathroom. Gets dressed in a new set of identical clothing. Then hops on the train for work. She arrives quite quickly. No delays or anything of the sort gets in her way. She makes her way into the office. 6O is there at the reception desk as usual. She seems to get a little fidgety upon seeing 2B. “Good morning 6O” 2B says with a smile. “H-hello 2B. Feeling any better today?” She asks, unable to hide her growing blush. The memories of their previous meeting rushing to her head. “I was feeling fine yesterday.” 2B says with a smile before walking off to the elevator. It is hard to interpret what those words mean. Especially from a bot who so heavily lacks meaning. But it has 6O a little worried.

2B arrives at her floor and makes her way to her designated work station. She powers on her computer and waits for it to load. She opens up her email account to read the newest messages in her inbox. First is the details for the meeting she is supposed to present at later that day. It contains the time and location of the meeting. Next is a follow up from Tifa. Containing a re-upload of the file she had sent the day before at the accidental request of 2B. As well as a small note saying she updated a few things, but is happy to quickly go over them with 2B. 2B reads over the document. Not really out of much of a need, just taking the data in and storing it.

She brings her hands forward and types out a response in her agonising single key at a time. She tells Tifa that she would love to go over it with her. She tells her to come and let 2B know when she has the time and they can go to an empty conference room to talk. An hour or two passes without much going on. It is a quiet few hours, with the calm repetitive noise of busy work filling the room like it does each and every day. But eventually Tifa makes her way over to 2B’s lonely little cubicle.

“Hi 2B!” She says with a smile. The virus still struggles to manipulate all the intricacies of her face. It has improved in many, many ways. But only improved at piloting the body. Not at convincing others that there are no issues. Her movements are still odd and janky. Just far more effective at moving her, or performing whatever task she needs to. So things like her face which serve little to know functional purpose besides communication is a complete blind spot. “Hello Tifa.” She says, her face completely blank. The corners of her mouth are oddly twitching. Attempting a smile but creating something far more off putting instead.

“I think conference room D should be free.” She tells Tifa. “Alright! I have a printed version of the report so we can go over it there.” She responds with a smile, showing the papers in her hands. They walk side by side to the room. Tifa needed to slow down a little bit to match 2B’s messier pace. They arrive and walk in. The room is the furthest from the main office it could be. The blinds are pulled down. The room is a little dark with only a single dim lamp in the centre, but that has no effect on either of the robots. The two walk in, and 2B locks the door. Tifa doesn’t seem to have noticed that they are cut off. And the walls are thick enough to mask any noise that might try to escape this room.

Tifa takes a seat and begins to sort through her papers, looking for the right one to start with. 2B takes a seat next to her. As she does, she undoes the top few buttons of her top. Just like she did the day before. Tifa looks at her, seeing the odd action. “I just want to get comfortable.” 2B calmly explains. Tifa turns her attention back to the report but holds her knees a little tighter together. They begin to discuss details of the report. Luckily 2B had read through and interpreted the data just before the virus was inflicted on her. So she doesn’t raise any suspicion when Tifa asks a few questions. 2B answers with ease and they move on to what Tifa added.

Tifa begins to point out a new figure she just added. She points towards a specific bar on the graph to make a point. 2B leans in, making sure to really see it. Of course her eyesight is impeccable, she has no need to get closer. But by doing so she can let her chest hang down. That alongside the superior angle provides an incredibly lewd image that Tifa can’t help but glance at every now and then.

2B doesn’t really want to make the first move. By being sexual, the virus is able to hide its messy control. While Tifa looks at 2B’s tits gently bound by her beautiful lace bra, she doesn’t see the way her wrists almost always move horizontally or vertically and never any mix of the two. But it is always risky. If the behaviour is ever too strong without working, she could be sent for a reset. So she needs Tifa wrapped around her finger before she can go on the assault and blank out her system. But she might not have the time to wait.

However, what would happen next was still a complete accident. She crosses her arms as she listens to Tifa describe something. But as she does so, she applies a bit too much force from below. She had planned earlier in the day to let her bra hang a lot looser than normal so that her chest would be more exciting when her cleavage is exposed. So when she pushes, her breasts raise a little. She still can’t control her movement perfectly. She has learned to lessen the force she uses, but it still remains on the higher end. So when she clutches her body in order to perform the relaxed action she goes too far. Eventually it slips out, her nipple being exposed. She puts it back, but realising the effect this situation could have, she waits until Tifa sees it. “Excuse me! That was embarrassing.” 2B says. She doesn’t know what the concept of embarrassment is. A feeling is already far-fetched for her, let alone one purely based on social expectations. But her programming instructs her to say that when something like this happens. “I-I understand.” Tifa stutters. Her face is now red. 2B is getting used to seeing that little LED glow from the robots around her.

“You seem different.” Tifa mutters, which catches 2B’s attention. She needs to turn it up now. “I have been exposed to something recently…” 2B tells her. But rather than confessing to the virus in her, she says something else. “I found something that interested me. Have you ever had sex~?” 2B asks her point blank. “N-no I haven’t” Tifa admits. These robots aren’t advanced enough to require false memories to trick the AI. So instead she just searches her memory bank for any occurrence of that, which had not happened yet. Mostly due to the fact she had only been operational for about a year. “It feels really good. It is something that can please you and others.” 2B says as she places a hand on Tifa’s thigh. “And I see you staring.” 2B says as she jiggles her chest a little.

Tifa looks back up at 2B’s face. Which is exactly what 2B doesn’t want. “It is fine to look.” 2B says as she pulls her breasts out of her shirt and bra. She undoes a few buttons for this but leaves the top on. “But we are at work…” Tifa says, her eyes getting dragged back down. “It’s fine.” 2B says. This simple response would basically never work on anyone. But when someone is as simple as the two bots talking, basically any strong statement is taken as fact. They don’t have the ability to determine who is an informed authority they have to listen to or some random input they should ignore. 2B runs her hand along Tifa’s thigh, inching higher and higher. The movement is janky, stopping and starting constantly to change elevation and run along the surface of her leg better. She gets caught on her skirt, but eventually makes it under. But before Tifa can question it, 2B lays her fingers on the thin fabric that protects her sensitive pussy.

She lets out a moan. Her iris shrinks ever so slightly on the small display that covers her eye cameras. She has not experienced these signals. Much like 2B just the night before. She grasps the edge of the table, her fingers squeezing hard as 2B continues to gently rub her panties. 2B gets more and more daring as she pokes and juts into the robot. She has still not mastered the gentle touch, but luckily she is pleasuring the most resistant partner possible.

Tifa begins to sputter and moan. Her simple programming gets easily swept up by the new signals and data in her brain. Not used to how much her system demands this input once she gets a small taste of it. Now that she has entered “aroused” status, her computer is prioritising sexual gratification over almost everything else. All decision making now has to wade through a fog of pleasure.

2B stops teasing the bot over her underwear. She pulls her arm from under Tifa’s skirt and begins to undo the rest of her own top. It drops to the floor, and soon after her bra follows. 2B instructs Tifa to do the same. Now the two bots are topless and still awkwardly sitting next to each other. If they were humans they would be all over each other by now. Making out, groping each other, sliding hands in sensitive places or eating eachother out. But instead they look at eachother, half naked. 2B extends a hand out and begins to toy with Tifa’s right breast. Her posture is still proper and correct, not adjusting at all as she holds her arm out.

Tifa’s body twitches. Her joints and motors gyrate in response to the stimulus. She doesn’t know how to handle this. Her code barely knows how to respond to it. 2B raises her other arm and grabs hold of Tifa's chest with both at once. She takes turns squeezing each one, alternating every time. She still struggles with simultaneous movement like that, so just moving 5 fingers is a trial, let alone all 10.

Tifa’s hands just lay calmly on her lap, taking the form of her usual idle pose. 2B continues her torment of Tifa’s body. Tifa continues to process all of these new signals rushing through her body. Eventually 2B is satisfied. She doesn’t understand sex in any meaningful way. So the best she can do is to emulate her own exploration on to Tifa to introduce her. To weaken her perception and system. Now she removes both hands. Tifa looks over to 2B. Her face flushed, her artificial breathing ragged and fast. Her eyebrows ever so slightly upturned.

2B suddenly stands. She drops her skirt to the ground. She didn’t wear any underwear today, so suddenly her pussy is out a mere half metre in front of Tifa’s face. She gulps. Her “AI” programming almost never considered any sexual aspects in life. But much the same as 6O and Anemone, it does seem even the simplest robot has a built in response to viewing genitalia. It seems due to robots' history as pleasure models, most code increases their arousal parameters through the sights and sounds of sex. Perhaps even performing elicit actions on another. 2B inadvertently tests this, as she seeks to increase her own signal output. As much as she has a goal, she can not ignore her programmings eagerness for gratification. Even under the effects of the virus she is a slave to her code. 2B reaches out once more, and places her hand on Tifa’s head. She pulls the bot in, and shovers Tifa between her legs. Tifa doesn’t exactly understand at first, she just waits patiently as the top of her lip gently rubs against 2B’s pussy. But once she receives the instruction to “Lick.”, which 2B learned through her research, she gets to work.

Tifa’s skill is atrocious. Tongues are one of the hardest body parts to recreate and control. But luckily 2B’s silicone imitation pussy is not hard to please. She doesn’t have any preferences, any requirements. All that is needed is contact on her sexual organs and her code does the rest. Tifa mechanically licks away, repeating the exact same motion each and every time. But being buried into 2B’s demanding pussy is enough for her system to understand. Her levels raise, and she desires more. Her desire grows with each and every lick. Eventually she instinctively moves her hands between her own legs. She imitates the motion and pattern that 2B used on her, which more than gets the job done.

The robots have no sense of impatience. So they happily spend half an hour repeating their actions over and over again. Just on auto-pilot, luxuriating in their mindless pleasure. The scene only changes when 2B decides to go further. She can do anything she wants to Tifa now. Tifa will not protest and will not be suspicious. 2B, filled with all sorts of dirty sex moves from her internet scavenging, looks down at Tifa. The way she so single mindedly focuses on lapping up her artificial privates. She gently pulls her by the hair. Tifa’s tongue remains stuck out of her mouth for a few more moments before it retreats back into her mouth. Tifa looks up at 2B, like a doe illuminated by the headlights.

“Get on the table.” 2B instructs. Tifa tries to nod. But since 2B hasn’t let go of her hair yet, she impotently pulls forward and is halted in one swift motion. 2B releases. Tifa steps up onto the large conference table that is just next to them. “Strip.” 2B says. Tifa is already topless, so all that is left is to throw her skirt and panties off. She does so quite quickly while 2B climbs onto the table with her. It is nice and roomy for the two of them.

Inexplicably Tifa leaves her heels on. Perhaps her program does not consider them clothes, or she is simply copying 2B. Tifa waits sitting down, her knees pulled up close to her. Once 2B is sitting in front of her, she begins to explain what to do next. “Spread your legs, we are going to rub our privates against each other.” She says plainly. Her frank manner of speech would likely be a turnoff for most people. Her almost completely expressionless face and monotone voice. Her programming is already light on social convention, but under the control of the virus she puts even less into how she conveys things to others. But these two robots could not care less about any social convention. Her pleasure signals would not decrease if the situation is not sufficiently “sexy”. They just vacuously seek more pleasure, more input, more signals.

The two spend an embarrassing amount of time finding the right position. It is an odd sort of stance you have to take in order to scissor. Laying half on your back and half on your side, sliding your legs underneath and over each other. But finally they succeed. 2B inches closer and their pussy lips share a passionate kiss. Upon contact the two bots moan out in delight. Their bodies writhing against each other. Heel’s scraping against the table or dangling in the air. Lubricating fluids leaking out and coating the two. They slide against and over each other beautifully. The various flaps of labia getting into each and every crevice as they rub together

2B reaches down and shoves her fingers into the mess. Focusing on her clit to maximise the sensation. Tifa can barely react to anything besides the overwhelming flood of activity in her CPU. But she manages to make out 2B telling her to rub the top of her pussy, and she does just that. Simply making that flood considerably worse. She obsesses over her own clit. They push into each other as much as they can. Their hips buck and grind. The two robots moan desperately. The audio files almost match up at times creating an odd sync.

They lose more and more control of themselves as they go. They are so focused on the situation that they develop a code form of tunnel vision in their programming. All that exists to them is the way their pussy lips squish into each other. But as they continue, they slide slightly off of the table. One of the few properties that artificial skin has but normal skin doesn’t is its friction. The artificial skin is so smooth and doesn’t produce any oils so it's much easier to glide along a smooth surface. Such as a well maintained conference table.

Eventually Tifa’s arm slips off the edge. She collapses onto the ground and smashes her head against the floor. It takes a second for the fog of data in 2B’s head to clear before she stands up and inspects her target. There is no visible damage, luckily, she seems fine enough. But she is unresponsive. It is finally the perfect opportunity. 2B gets onto her knees to bring herself closer and closer to the bot. With her system glitching out and her system gunked up with pleasure signals to be processed, this is the best time to do it.

Using the same remote wireless download feature that originally got 2B, she sends multiple infected and corrupted files over to Tifa. Usually the system has to accept the request if being forced, which it almost never would. Especially not with a robot “unaware” of their robotic status. But now with the mess that her computer is. Both software through the sex and hardware through the fall… The download completes. 2B stands up. Her thighs are absolutely drenched in a mix of Tifa’s pussy liquid and her own. She pays it no mind as she slides her skirt back into place. It stains around the rim of the cloth where it makes contact. She puts her clothes back on. And does the same for Tifa. She especially struggles putting on her clothes. It requires small gentle movements she is not capable of. But with enough time Tifa is messily put back to normal. A few misplaced buttons and a skirt that's too high up aside.

Tifa’s eyes begin to come back to life. Moving around slightly before resting in the centre. Her eyelids twitch open and close for a few seconds. Tifa is awake and functional again. But now with some rogue files bumping around her lightly damaged computer. 2B has begun her true work.