Bad Day

Bad Day

By BA

Tuesday 1520 hours

It slowly dawned on Muriel that she would probably end her day shutdown in the service facility until, God only knew when, someone traced her husband to come and reclaim her. What was so frustrating was that there was nothing really wrong with her; she was an up-to-date, well maintained and reliable android, not some tape and solder jury-refurb hooker ‘bot but a modern and professionally operated female simulant and, as usual, she was functioning perfectly as programmed.

Tuesday 0836 hours

The day had started well, bright and sunny with all systems functioning in the green as Muriel made her way towards the downtown office complex where she worked to pay off her husband’s sizeable investment in her purchase and running costs.

She enjoyed catching the furtive eyes among the grey suited throng as businessmen tracked the curvy shapes of her own close fitting business suit and long glossy legs. She was built to impress and dressed to show off her perfectly engineered assets, never quite crossing the bounds of acceptable office-wear. Her three-inch heels clicked rhythmically with her confident stride and she knew her butt was wriggling exquisitely inside the tight grey mid-thigh skirt. Her walk was controlled from the Robotic System Processor Bank, RSPB for short, inside her bouncing plastic chest. Here painstakingly pre-programmed control algorithms raced through petabytes of data from her chassis feedback sensors, dermal sensors, gyros and AV systems to develop the motor control signals that make her body move. Despite the vast computing power employed simply to navigate her way sexily through the crowded streets, her system was barely ticking over and so she diverted much of her spare capacity to building a response cache in anticipation of likely requirements for the coming day.

She was well aware of all the sounds and motions around her; sensory analysis applications constantly screened all input to forward relevant stimuli to the selfware processors in her RSBP to construct an appropriate response. She was aware of the hurrying man behind her talking loudly on his cell phone but was not expecting the sudden blow to her shoulder as he barged past.

“Shit!” Her system automatically compensated with reactions far quicker than any human and developed a balance recovery plan within microseconds, including the adjustments required to simulate relatively clumsy human imperfections. She would gracefully trip forwards and to the right, exhibiting all the outward signs of a fall narrowly avoided. Her vocal system cued the appropriate expletive to match the facial expressions drawn from a huge cache to match the emotional reaction her selfware generated. In response to the unexpected incident her system management applications automatically suspended the response cache tasks she had been running to free maximum resources for immediate use. All in all she calculated the massively complex task of unexpectedly stumbling a few steps would take one point four four seconds and leave her continuing on her way none the worse.

On step two of the planned response Muriel’s three-inch heel caught between two loose flagstones and stuck fast. Again her lightning-fast processors recalculated; she might have avoided a fall if she had taken the decision to breach the constraints of simulated human behaviour but the decision resources needed for her selfware to override the RSPB ‘auto-pilot’ were still tied up closing administrative applications. Instead her available systems simply calculated the outputs to twist around and land in an undignified heap on her butt. Half way down she collided with a figure coming the other way.

As Muriel sat on her butt on the sidewalk a deluge of system alerts reached her selfware, which usually ran in splendid isolation from the teeming background code that operated her many sub-systems, and informed her of several minor component failures in her left ankle and foot. She appeared slightly stunned for a second and made use of the time to bring herself to full processing capacity and confirm that she had suffered no critical or cosmetic damage. The pretty android was relieved to realize that her facade was intact, her twisted ankle was entirely explained by her fall and nobody need notice she was just a machine.

“Arsehole!” She shouted after the bustling figure, who didn’t even glance back.

“Are you okay?” The young man she had collided with on her way down helped her up and steadied her as she adjusted herself and brushed off her suit.

“I’m fine thanks,” she smiled at him, never slow to flirt, and allowed herself to be fussed over by way of a little compensation for her bad luck; she only made her excuses when he seemed about to ask for her number. She hobbled off along the street, broken shoe in her hand, grateful that her building was only one block further.

Tuesday 0904 hours

The first thing Muriel did after hobbling to her workstation; besides answering the various questions her uncharacteristically dishevelled appearance elicited, some concerned, some less so; was to log in and book a tech support appointment. As she had hobbled to the office it was clear that she would need some repairs before walking much further.

She completed the Company’s online form, filling in her full technical details, designation and maintenance requirements and was rewarded with a booking later that morning. Glad that she had no meetings scheduled today, Muriel got on with her work, leaving her damaged foot resting motionless and temporarily isolated under her desk until she needed it again.

Tuesday 0959 hours

As ever Muriel was in perfect time for her appointment despite the problem. The tech sat at her desk reviewing the Company’s employee file on her and calling up technical specifications on a big screen while she waited. There was no waiting room since androids, being machines, are regarded as free of inhibitions; those programmed into them are merely superficial and can safely be turned off or, more usually, ignored. As Muriel waited on a row of hard plastic chairs to be called forward the only other client sat bolt upright a few chairs down: a softly freckled redhead who looked slightly familiar and perfectly human except for her blank immobile stare. It may be only ‘superficial programming’ but Muriel felt rather uncomfortable waiting, she wished someone would just turn her off too until she was fixed...

“Uhmm... Muriel, please take a seat here.” The slim technician gestured at the large shiny articulated chair in the centre of the room. “I’m sorry to hear about your little accident this morning. As you know the Company is not able to offer you full manufacturers’ support but I’m sure I can complete a temporary repair to last until your next scheduled service.”

The buxom android girl limped into the hard chair and lay back as the tech swung the diagram filled screen over by her lower legs. “Now, let’s take a look...” Paying careful attention to the displayed directions the technician began to firmly but gently probe the top of Muriel’s foot. “Hmmm, there certainly seems to be some distortion in there. I believe your model has an alloy lower frame; these are usually durable but can suffer this sort of damage under un-demanded stress... I’ll have to open you up. Are you okay with that or would you like me to shut you down?”

Muriel glanced apprehensively at the redhead across the room. She was used to receiving her extensive maintenance attention while offline at her scheduled provider but had never undergone any repairs at her office before now, somehow it didn’t feel right. She looked at the technician; she was pretty in a smart cold way, almost certainly an android rather more basic than Muriel herself. “No thank you, I’m sure I’ll be fine. There: I’ve isolated my left leg outputs to a service file, please carry on.” From experience if she let herself be turned off now she could remain off for any amount of time, at the mercy of forgetful bureaucracy; how bad could the damage be after all?

“You must remain perfectly still as I dismantle the damaged assembly...” The tech collected some tools from the rack and pulled a stool over to sit by Muriel’s foot.

“Sure, sure.” Over the next twenty minutes or so Muriel watched with interest as the realistic plastic flesh covering was removed from the top of her foot to reveal gleaming alloy endo-frame sections underneath. The spaces remaining were filled with the densely packed ultra-fine colour coded cabling matrix linking her dermal sense grid. The tech worked carefully to isolate the slightly twisted metal components, leaving tangles of displaced wiring protruding from Muriel’s foot so she could attach her large steel clamps. In order to gain better purchase she had to open a long slit under the sole of the foot and insert one clamp up through the tangle inside before she could apply considerable but well measured pressure to straighten the buckled linkage.

All the while Muriel’s constant stream of error codes and feedback were cached in a service file opened for the occasion without troubling the advanced unit’s selfware. It was the first time Muriel had undergone this sort of general repair procedure; designed to keep her operating for the short term, she was well aware that a full maintenance session would follow in the next few days when her service provider would replace all the damaged components, perhaps even her whole lower leg. They would also examine her logs intimately and review the incident; adjusting her programming to correct any imperfections that came to light and hopefully reduce the likelihood of any repeat performance.

Muriel enjoyed watching the tech, engrossed in her work, as she probed carefully inside the pretty foot. She gently wriggled the painted toes of her perfectly smooth and tanned right foot, contrasting its mobility with the left’s frozen deadness. She felt more a machine than ever right now and it felt good. She found herself glancing more and more at the powered down girl across the room; she looked perfect, human in every way and she reminded Muriel of how easily the tech could have turned her off too at the touch of a button. She became aware that her RSPB had opened several simulation programs that were causing involuntary responses from her cosmetic systems, it was a well programmed subtle reaction to her selfware’s current status: she was feeling horny.

The tech announced that she had done what she could to correct the buckled endo-frame components. “I’ve reattached the electro-activation systems and you should find you have nearly seventy percent function for the time being.” She balanced a complex looking electronic meter on Muriel’s thigh and delved back inside her open foot with the two long probes. “Please reactivate your limb while I test its functions.”

Muriel struggled to stifle a loud exclamation as the technician tweaked her internal systems with tiny pulses which caused her toes to twitch and curl one by one. The sensation was literally electric and set up waves of incoherent sensor input from the tangled bundles of loose wires shooting up her leg and buzzing around her systems, not least the super-sensitive pleasure bus hard-wired into her sexual system. “Oh my! That certainly feels um... better...” She wondered if the tech realized the profound effect she was having and quickly smoothed her skirt down over what she could feel was suddenly a very hot mound indeed.

The tech showed no sign of anything other than business-like efficiency as she carefully finished her tests; Muriel doubted if she even had the necessary software to understand, maybe not the hardware either. “Unfortunately I’m unable to re-seal your special access panels as they are not designed to be used routinely like your main service panels. Your service provider will no-doubt need to re-enter soon in any case.” As she explained the crisp white-coated woman began to re-pack the wiring looms into Muriel’s foot and seal up the gaping openings with a thick roll of flesh coloured tape. “I suggest you avoid water until you are permanently repaired...”

Tuesday 1106 hours

Muriel sat at her desk gazing at the screen in front of her. She felt slightly ridiculous, a machine daydreaming, but she could not move on from the intense, almost orgasmic, effect of her repair session. Her involuntary sex applications were still running and their prioritized resource hungry demands did not leave much left over for work. She squirmed awkwardly on her chair in the open plan office and glanced around. Under the desk she furtively ran her still bare feet over one another sending back indecipherable but oddly stimulating sensor data from the damaged appendage and savouring the smooth plastic touch of the tape holding her together with the other. She was not programmed to open her domestic pleasure functions at work and was usually all business; clearly her session had upset this routine. She would get nothing done like this; putting on a calm front she rose and left the office, her limp now barely noticeable.

Tuesday 1112 hours

Muriel sat back on the toilet seat trembling with replicated anticipation. She could feel the slipperiness between her legs as she gathered up her skirt and reached underneath to trace her hot wet folds.

She had been careful not to be seen entering the restroom; whilst it was not unusual for android staff to vent excess fluids, it was more usual to use the technical service rooms provided for routine support requirements. Muriel knew that the android facilities would offer no privacy for what she had in mind so had slipped quietly into her human colleagues’ female toilet. As the horny machine-woman began to touch her perfectly simulated female flesh she could not help but let out a deep moan. She slipped her slim glossy nailed finger gently up and down the smooth pink folds before sliding it slowly inside herself.

“Ahhhhh!!!” Muriel threw back her head and cried out in full voice as she crooked her finger inside herself and pressed forwards rubbing across her sensor-rich G Spot. She gasped and sighed loudly as she built a rhythm; her masturbatory software was written primarily for use in company and was not designed to show any restraint. She was fast approaching the point at which her selfware would be helplessly overridden by the semi-autonomous sexual applications when she heard the toilet door suddenly swing open.

With a barely suppressed expletive the quivering android girl pulled her hand away from between her creamy-soft plastic thighs and waited silently, though not patiently, for privacy again. She realized her ecstasy was not likely to go unnoticed if anyone else came in but, with several dedicated sex applications now running, her urge was urgent and immediate. Quietly Muriel unbuttoned her blouse and took on a faraway gaze for a moment as her chest panel sank into her sternum and slid down behind her breasts to expose blinking controls. Strictly speaking she had no legitimate need to operate her physical switches, having autonomous control over all the functions she normally required such as opening her control panel; however, her selfware was very comprehensive and she was able to improvise a procedure to meet her needs. She reached up and carefully depressed the small switch labelled ‘UVAP’ – upper ventral service panel - causing her to freeze instantly, hand still on the switch, as a rectangular seam appeared just below her bra.

As the flush sounded a few cubicles down Muriel twitched back into operation with a tiny gasp. She carefully hinged the unsealed UVAP downwards to hang open supported by hundreds of tiny delicate trailing leads. Deep inside were the densely packed electronics that made her robotic body function, usually only revealed when she was face up on a servicing table, frozen, cold and turned off. She reached carefully inside herself and, accessing her own model’s technical service data to call up a forest of assembly diagrams, located her vocal processing hub. By fingertip she snapped apart one the of the hundreds of tiny delicate optical data bus links that connected her many parallel systems; perfectly selecting the one which connected her oral hardware to the vocal coding processor and in turn the AI chipset where her selfware composed voluntary speech and the robotic system processor bank where her involuntary vocalisations where generated.

Muriel suddenly went very quiet, her chest continued to rise and fall but all the little sounds of breathing, usually hardly noticed, were suddenly uncannily obvious by their absence. Her gaze iced over for another moment as she processed the expected flurry of alert messages that filled her vision; as she expected she was functioning perfectly despite the improvised modification. She would have to investigate an upgrade to give her more discretion over her sex subsystems but for now the problem was solved. She reached for herself.

The android woman touched her artfully crafted body expertly, sliding her perfect fingers up and down her hot wet folds, strumming over her hard little plastic clitoris and pressing up inside herself to reach for the g-spot sensor mass that craved attention. As she played her face went through the motions of moans and loud shouts of pleasure but she made no sound beyond the rhythmic wet friction of her fingers. She came quickly, arching her back and jerking her pelvis on the plastic seat, eyes closed and mouth gaping but it wasn’t enough.

Muriel came down from her high, realising that this was her first solo climax. There was simply no need to program her to masturbate for her own pleasure; only in company during sex or, occasionally, for test purposes, would she get horny. It was a quirk of her current circumstances that seemed to lead her to be aroused on her own and she decided to make the most of it. She hitched herself up and sat back on her hand, reaching around her butt to slip four fingers easily inside her sopping sex. She stuck her damaged leg gracefully up in the air where she could look at the improvised repair and took her weight on her good foot, riding her hand up and down against the toilet seat with her breasts bouncing heavily behind the open sides of her blouse between the open access panels above and below.

The LVAP cover flapped on its training leads just below her breasts reminding her she was just a machine as she pounded herself hard in wide gaping silence. The outer toilet door swung open loudly and Muriel abruptly stopped her energetic ride, settling down to sit still on her hand. She was grateful for her little modification as she was processing a steady stream of involuntary vocalisations now that shaped her mouth in a silent, “Oh! Oh! Ahhh... yes! Ah! Ah! Oh... Oh... Oh!!! Mmmmmm, yes... oh yes!!!” She began to gently tweak her begging clit with her free hand, waiting as still as she could for the person to leave. She wanted to come with her fist driving hard up into her sex but was so close to executing a climax sequence right now that the gentle touch on her clit was certain to send her over. More than seventy percent of her capacity was now occupied with operating the android’s many functions towards the single aim of a perfect digital climax. She wriggled her fingers inside.

Bang-bang, “Is anyone in there?”

It was a man’s voice, shit! Her selfware initiated the closedown of voluntary sexual applications immediately but it would take a few seconds. She pulled out of herself and stood up to shrug her tight skirt back down over her wet pantless crotch.

“Yes!! Wait just a minute!” Her face shaped the words but only silence came out of Muriel’s glossy red lips; shit again! The android wiped her hand on her skirt and fumbled inside herself to re-make the connection and speak again, she hoped that her words would not be too lewdly shaped by the urgent involuntary sexual output still feeding from her RSPB. The connection made she still couldn’t find her voice as the door bolt was slid back from the outside in front of her eyes.

The door swung open to reveal a very surprised plumber, his blue overalls emblazoned with a company badge. He gaped wide-eyed at the statuesque lady standing in disarray inside the cubicle, blouse thrown open. She was beautiful, though it was immediately obvious she was an android from the blinking lights inside her open chest and from the electronics filled void which she was struggling to close below her bulging breasts. She mouthed words at him with silent anger, torn between covering her bare breasts or closing her flesh panels over the exposed electronics, she failed on both counts. She then realized that her voice coding would not come online until she rebooted.

“Hey, Jack! There’s a ‘bot girl in here!” The plumber’s companion joined him in the doorway to stare at Muriel in surprise.

“Seems to be malfunctioning, it’s never good when they can’t talk like that. Damn pretty though...”

“What the hell’s she doing in here d’you think?”

“Dunno...”

Blocked in by the men, Muriel decided her priority lay with talking her way out of trouble, after all she wasn’t really doing anything wrong, embarrassing at worst. She clasped her LVSP cover close to her and restarted her systems, face immediately blanking and tilting slightly as she stood motionless. For a few short seconds she was unaware of her surroundings before coming back online with loud beep, all systems green and voice fully functional; just a couple of seconds more until her startup checks released control to her selfware...

“...yeah, I guess you’re right.” The men had closed right up to her and were peering at her control panel, though with a passing interest in her ample cleavage too.

“It must be this one.”

“Let’s see...” Still booting up, Muriel watched helplessly as the younger man carefully depressed the large power button in the centre of her chest, laid bare on her uncovered control panel, then her power cut off.

Tuesday 1448 hours

Muriel announced the opening of her unique selfware application in response to an external service command to her RSPB and instantly became aware. She had been running in service mode for several hours and her autonomous applications advised her that, other than head and sensor function, she was still substantially deactivated. Several components and cover panels had been removed from her damaged left foot and leg and she glanced down to see.

The android wife found she was nude and face up on a cold steel table, one of many in the large cold room, obviously someone had decided to return her to her Service Provider, still believing her to be malfunctioning. Oh well, she thought, at least her ankle would be fixed early. As usual for service she was connected to many external links plugged into her systems through her open UVSP and sweeping up towards the overhead ducting. Her control panel was also still open and she detected that several other routine access covers were missing. The lower ventral and paplexus panels (the LVAP and the PAP) on her front gave access to her central motor and sexual systems respectively, the upper dorsal panel between her shoulder blades (the UDAP) was for maintenance of her complex alloy spine and running from the small of her back to the top of her pelvis the large LDAP allowed replacement of her power packs and access to the heavy duty thigh electro-actuators from inside. Muriel’s power packs had been removed and she could feel where she lay across the thick external power cable connected inside her back.

As she looked along her frozen body, Muriel could see that her panels had been fully disconnected and removed leaving simple open square holes filled with technology contrasting with her soft curvy figure. Peering between the hanging cables she could see a white-coated technician working away on her ankle. The cover had been removed from the top of the foot revealing the complex metallic articulations that replicated the feel and look of human bone and sinew so accurately through her synthetic skin, several hung loose as the technician delved between them with a screwdriver and large shiny pliers. Just above her ankle and high up inside her white thigh squares of thick plastic skin were peeled back so that bundles of mutli-coloured test leads could enter, jump-linked into her motor systems. She registered violent feedback responses as the technician probed and tweaked inside her but all data from her left leg was tagged and cached for examination, segregated from her active systems and causing her no ill effects beyond some small facial motor spasms.

Muriel’s view along her own naked and opened body was interrupted as another technician leaned in front of her.

“A66HTC, as you can see you’ve been brought in for repair. The physical damage is straightforward but the description of your malfunctioning episode makes no sense and I can find no errors in your diagnostic data. Can you explain?”

Muriel smiled, “I have been functioning perfectly, there seems to have been a misunderstanding earlier to-to-to d-day but the only mainten-en-en-enance I require is on my damag-ag-aged foot.” She frowned as her twitching head stumbled over her words and ran a quick scan to confirm it was externally caused and not a malfunction.

“I see... you were discovered partially disassembled and you did appear to be malfunctioning quite severely which is why you were brought here. It will take a lot of time to run a thorough log examination, if you say were operating normally then what happened?”

Muriel explained how she had felt the need to masturbate and how she had modified her system to allow her do so discretely. It took a few minutes to go through a detailed account of her actions, hindered by periodic spasms and stutters as her foot was dismantled. She was quite unembarrassed, naked and helpless she was no more than a beautiful and expensive machine in for repair. As she listened the technician, another slim brunette but at least programmed with complete familiarity with Muriel’s design, looked concerned. She entered several queries on a pad nearby which her ‘patient’ felt executing in her own processors and examined fast scrolling lines of code that represented parts Muriel’s programmed personality.

“This is interesting...” The tech called a colleague over and they talked excitedly about the data displays. Muriel caught snatches of their talk: “...service induced aberration...” “Re-install selfware...” “...coding bug...”

The new colleague reached casually between Muriel’s legs and wiped a finger along her slit eliciting a delicious moan from the nude robot. “Yes, this unit is running it’s arousal suite right now... here...” She opened a new window and the two techs examined Muriel’s sexual status which was beginning to run hot

“This unit’s behaviour is obviously aberrant for a spouse personality suite, she may have been exposed to some malicious code or unauthorised modification to her selfware…”

“Her logs show no signs of tampering, more likely that her AI has destabilised since her last service.”

Muriel was becoming quite distracted by the hot wetness between her legs as she lay helpless, listening to the intimate yet impersonal discussion of the techs. “My software is perfectly okay thank you, I might have made a mistake earlier but my personality is running just fine…”

“Either way, a reinstall to her last backup should restore normal operation.”

“The last service date is 10 days ago, I will prepare a advisory notices for the unit’s user and employer regarding the fault and memory loss. The employer will be able to reload any essential recent work related memory files.

The robot wife wanted to squirm in pleasure as electronic sensation pulsed through her systems but could do little but sigh deeply and give a little gasp with each fresh twitch of her pretty face. Her voice sounded breathy and distracted and she couldn’t seem to find the right tone to put these icy technicians right.

“I do not need reprogramming! Please just fix my leg and...

A66HTC: Muriel version 3.6.7 suspended.

Install prompt Muriel version 3.6.7 backup dated XXXX – confirm?

Confirmed

Downloading…”

The two technicians turned away from the frozen wife robot lying nude and opened on the table without the slightest concern for her objections and left the third to continue her repairs on the damaged lower leg as the code that made her ‘Muriel’ was replaced by an earlier version of ‘her’. One turned towards another shut down android, more basic than the realistic wife model; the other simply walked to the side of the room and stood still, waiting until she was next required.

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