Sarah Jones

Sarah Jones stood under the hot spray of her shower, rapidly scrubbing herself with body wash while simultaneously rinsing the shampoo from her hair. “Goddammit,” she thought to herself. She was late for class. Again.

Sarah lived with her mother and twin sister, Kate. Oh, and a fat, annoying cat they’d jokingly named Spanx. Her mother was a professor at the local university, teaching robotics, or engineering, or something. She was never very good at that sort of thing. Still, her mother’s position allowed her and her sister essentially free tuition.

Kate had become her mother’s protege, studying under her once she started school. The two had been inseparable since late in high school, when Kate had some sort of accident they barely talked about.

Sarah, on the other hand, and much to her mother’s seeming disappointment, was much more drawn to the humanities, and opted to study history upon enrollment. This did mean she didn’t share the same schedule as the rest of her family, and was left to drive in on her own. A task that, like today, being a bit of a dreamer and a klutz, often left her running a bit behind.

Her hair fully rinsed, she shut off the water, pulled back the shower curtain, and went to step out of the tub, not realising Spanx had insinuated himself into the bathroom, and was sitting on the bathmat. Both startled, the cat hissed as Sarah tried to avoid stepping on him. And then her back foot slipped, and she fell. The world went into slow motion.

She tried desperately to regain her balance. Grab anything that would stop her fall. But it was futile. Her head hit the bathroom counter next to the shower. Hard. And her world went black.

She dreamt of strange things. Green text, like a computer printout or something.

• “Critical impact detected in cranial unit”
• “Initiating emergency detachment program, beta 2”
• “Wireless connection established. Re-initiating.”

Sarah’s eyes snapped open. She was lying on the bathroom floor, starting at the wall.

“That fucking cat!” she thought to herself. “Gonna kill him.”

She rolled over, and tentatively got to her feet. Or at least, it felt like she did, but to Sarah’s confusion, she was still lying on the floor, staring at the wall. Panic began to set in.

“Oh god… Oh god… I’m paralysed. I broke my neck. I hate that fucking cat.” She wanted to cry for help, but it was moot. Her mother and sister wouldn’t be home for hours. But it was odd. She still felt like she was standing. She could feel the cold tile under her feet. “Great, now I’m hallucinating,” she thought to herself. Still, if she was imagining things, why not. She “took” a step forward. Only to have a foot enter her field of vision… Her foot.

She tilted her eyes upwards as best she could. There was a naked woman standing there. A headless body. Her body. Sarah screamed.

“What the fuck is happening,” she thought to herself, but then, as if by instinct, she just thought, “let me try to pick up my head.” And she bent over, felt her hands on either side of her face, and then stood back up. She was staring at her own breasts, holding HER OWN head in her arms. “This has to be some sort of fever dream or hallucination. Probably caused by that fall. Yeah, that’s it.”

She was trying desperately not to panic, but still, curiosity got the best of her. She’d always been a curious person. “Wish curiosity had killed that cat.” She thought to herself, trying to bring some levity to whatever horror this was.

Tentatively, she turned her head around, to face the mirror. And sure enough, there was her headless body, holding her head in her hands, a look of horror and confusion on her face. There was a glint of metal components coming from her neck on both ends, and what looked like a few attachment points.

“I’m a… “I’m a… a robot? No, this is… This can’t be. No.”

But again, as if guided by some subconscious instinct, she smoothly raised her head up, and placed it upon her body. The two sections joined with a click, and then whatever seam had been visible quickly disappeared.

Still nude, Sarah ran across the hall to her room, where she sat down on her bed. She gazed at the ceiling, lost in thought for what seemed like hours. She definitely wasn’t going to go to class now.

“I’m not a robot. I’m not a machine, I’m as human as anyone else. It was just a hallucination brought on from me hitting my head. Side effects of a concussion.” Then she realised, bringing her hand to her head, she wasn’t feeling any pain. If she’d actually had a concussion, shouldn’t she have a massive headache?

She got up from her bed and crossed her room, looking at her reflection in her full length mirror. There was no bruising of any kind on her forehead, or any other indication of her hitting her head. “Maybe the whole thing was a dream. I’m not some machine, but, what if I am…” she thought, and oddly, suddenly found the prospect arousing.

Her mind, now somewhat clearer, was determined to discover the truth. Since she’d “dreamt” her head came off, she raised her hands to both sides of her face, and tried to pull upward. Nothing. Then she thought, “maybe if I twist it somehow?” but that only gave her a (simulated?) crick in her neck.

She wondered if there was some other way to determine if she was, in fact, artificial, short of grabbing the scissors off the desk and cutting herself open, but that was way too extreme. She glanced at herself in the mirror, admiring her figure. She ran her hands down her sides, and then cupped her breasts. She tweaked each nipple, giggling to herself, “I wonder if these are my buttons?” This whole situation had somehow turned from horror to curiosity, playfulness, and arousal. “If I am a robot, maybe this is some sort of coping program?” she thought.

And then her “buttons” joke gave her an idea, and she ran her hands over her stomach, stopping at her belly button. She pressed in… and nothing happened. She felt strangely disappointed. So, she tried again, this time pressing in twice. Open sesame.

There was a hiss, and a large panel opened just beneath her breasts, running all the way down to her pubic hair. Sarah gasped in awe at the complicated array of electronics nestled within her torso. There was what appeared to be several artificial amalgamations of human organs; ribs, lungs, stomach, etc, as well as a flexible led touchscreen, with numerous readouts and status indicators. At the display’s center was an outline of a woman, with green lines separating every major joint in the body. Wrists, elbows, shoulders, neck and so on.

“Holy… I’m actually a fucking robot!” Sarah gasped in wonder, a tingle running up her (now known to be) artificial spine. “How?” And then it hit her. Her mom, an engineer, working in robotics. Duh. She wondered if Kate knew? Was she in on it?

She was drawn to the display in her chest, particularly the outline of the girl, her outline. She tentatively reached into herself and touched the screen at random. She’d hit the line on her left wrist. There was a beep, and to her dismay, a seam appeared between her hand and arm. With her right hand, she reached over to touch it, and her left hand easily just pulled away from her arm, leaving two metallic connection ports where they’d come apart.

Startled, she dropped her hand to the ground. “Ouch!” she cried. She could still feel the hand… her severed hand. She moved her index finger. It moved. Huh. She pushed up with all five fingers, and giggled as she started walking her detached hand around like some bizarre robotic version of Thing from the Addams Family.

Sitting back down on her bed, she thought, “I guess I have to be easily taken apart for repairs, and such. I wonder if all my parts can be wirelessly controlled?”

She reattached her hand to her wrist, and marvelled as the seam disappeared. Then reaching back inside herself she hit the point of release for her left hip. Sure enough, another seam appeared, and she was easily able to pull her leg away from her body. Holding it in her hands, she was able to flex her knee and wiggle her toes. In putting her leg back on, her hand accidentally brushed her sex, and she felt another tingle run up her spine, and she suddenly realized how aroused and wet she was.

Her hand stayed there, and she began gently rubbing herself, pleasure flooding her mind. “Why the hell am I so turned on by being a machine? Am I malfunctioning? Is this a programmed response? ”

She decided she didn’t care, and continued to play with herself, slipping a finger into her wetness. She brought it to her mouth and tasted it. She’d always loved to taste herself when she masturbated. And then an idea suddenly crossed her mind.

She reached back inside, and this time pressed the release for her head. Placing both hands on her temples, she gingerly lifted her head off her neck, turned it around and laid it on the bed between her legs. It made her a bit dizzy, but negligible compared to all the other revelations of the day.

She was now looking up at her once again headless body, but was still in control. She pushed her open abdominal panel shut, and watched as the seams around it disappeared. Then, lifting her head up once again, she gently brought it to her breasts and gave each nipple a kiss, waves of pleasure rushing over her, and then began lowering her head along her stomach, kissing it the whole way down, until she was face to face (er, face to vulva?) with her pussy.

She gave it a quick lick, and shuddered. She moved her tongue up her labia until she reached her clit. Words could barely describe what she was feeling. It was like a perpetual feedback loop of pleasure, simultaneously tasting herself and able to direct her tongue wherever she wanted. She needed more, and pushed her face deeper into herself, penetrating her folds with her tongue. She was on the verge of the most mind blowing orgasm of her life when she was suddenly interrupted by a voice.

“A hem.”

Her face buried in her crotch, she could barely make out the figure in her periphery. Her sister, standing in the doorway.

“Kk-Kate!” she stammered, muffled by what she was doing.

“So, I guess you found out, then. We got an emergency alert at the lab, and mom sent me to check on you.”

Sarah pulled her head away from her crotch, and awkwardly repositioned it so she could see her sister better. It was an odd perspective, to say the least. “You knew about me? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Kate shrugged, “After I found out about myself, mom wanted one of us to remain asleep. Wish I’d thought of that particular trick, though.” Nodding towards Sarah’s head. “Gonna have to try that.”

“Wait, so, you…”

“Yup.”

“And mom?”

“Human. Far as I know. She built us both, and has been keeping tabs on us, studying us, trying to develop more and more advanced bots. I’ve been helping with her research. Why do you think she basically made us go to school here?”

“And how did you…?”

“Find out? Remember the car accident in high school? Ripped my arm and a good chunk of my torso off. Kinda tough to ignore that. She could have wiped me, I guess, but decided against it. She’ll probably do the same for you, now that you know. Oh, and that emergency disconnect thing, you’ve got me to thank for it, otherwise there could have been some serious damage.”

Sarah was feeling a bit pissed at the casual tone of her sister, and felt more than exposed, sitting naked and headless.

“Now come on, get dressed. Mom’s on her way, and she likely has a lot to talk about with you.”

Sarah started to lift her head back to her neck, before Kate interrupted her.

“No, leave it off. I can’t wait to see the look on mom’s face when she sees you like that.”

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