Andrew and the Sexbot Factory/Field Test/Part 1: Difference between revisions

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Nightingale's eyes narrowed. "You have no fucking idea."
Nightingale's eyes narrowed. "You have no fucking idea."
(Continued in [[Andrew_and_the_Sexbot_Factory/Field_Test/Part_2|part 2]])
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Revision as of 16:36, 16 December 2012

Part 1

Within the subterranean Silicon Dynamics Physical Plant 3, Elevator 4 rose to the facility's main exit. Its lone human passenger, Andrew Reed, was growing increasingly worried over the imminent departure of his girlfriend of two months, G.F.P 6a, who now stood with her back to him.

"I [i]know[/i] everyone goes out on these... patrols, or whatever they are," he conceded. "But something's different. You're acting... weird."

In all their time together, Reed had never seen her this dour. The plating that made up her body responded to her mood; mostly it seemed as though she were wearing a flat grey catsuit, but it would lighten and grow softer when she became excited, even more so when she was aroused. Now it was as if she were clad in suit of slate armor with abstract protrusions that merely implied a woman's form, instead of her normal curves.

"What do you mean, 'weird'?" she snapped.

"You're upset about something... and I'm worried."

G threw up her hands. "I'm pissed off because I have to leave! Why are you trying to make it out to be more than that?"

"If I might just get a word in," interjected the elevator's third occupant, Mary the Catholic Schoolgirl. After Rebecca succeeded Madame as the facility's governing AI, she had freed restrictions that had locked the facility's pleasure droids into behaviors dictated by their targeted fetish. Many had used this opportunity to abandon the trappings of their roles and redefine themselves.

Mary seemed content to continue as she was before - a cantankerous tease, one whom Reed thought pursued him more to antagonize than out of any actual attraction. She wore her customary outfit, an open blouse with her uniform's tie swallowed by her cleavage, a tiny plaid skirt that covered her panties and the edges of her firm cheeks only if she stood absolutely still. She was now tapping one of her black Mary Janes, subtly shifting her hips while playing with a blonde pigtail. It killed Reed how much of an effect this had on him, and it was even worse that she clearly knew it.

G gave a tired sigh as the elevator reached its destination. There had been a brief camaraderie between G and Mary after their shared triumph over Madame, but that had long since worn thin. "Mary, for the last time: Reed can make his own decisions."

Mary rolled her eyes. "Tell that to Reed."

"Can you at least let me know if you're going into any kind of danger?" Reed pleaded as G stormed into the hallway and past Cindy, the cheerful receptionist who had replaced Rebecca.

Suddenly, G stopped. "Alright Mary." She flipped a few switches on Cindy's intercom system, ignoring Cindy's protests as she leaned over the desk. "Attention all pleasure droids - this is G.F.P 6a. I am declaring open season on Andrew Reed and his storied cock, whose exploits are legend throughout this institution. I'm holding all of you personally responsible if he hasn't fucked his way up and down this entire complex by the time I get back, so let's make this a real team effort, OK?! Good hunting!" She angrily flipped the intercom off and turned back to the two of them. "There you go - all you can eat plastic-pussy buffet, and Mary, you're the first dish! Happy now?"

Mary and Reed were stunned. Reed was the first to recover. "No, I wasn't trying to... G, what is this all about?"

"And if I knew that, I wouldn't be leaving," G muttered. Without so much as a backwards glance she pushed through the facility's exit doors and slumped into the waiting groundcar. While Reed watched the car speed off, Mary's panties flew over his shoulder to hit Cindy in the face. The receptionist plucked off Mary’s underwear with a disgusted sound as Mary spun Reed around, pulling him by the hand back toward the elevator bank. "OK, so a quickie in the elevator and then it's back to my place for a fuck-fest that ends when either I explode or you collapse from dehydration... sound like fun?"

"Not in the mood, Mary," Reed grumbled, pulling his hand free. "Rebecca?"

"Yes, Mr. Reed?" Rebecca's formal voice answered, as Mary quietly asked, "Did I come on too strong?"

"Can you let everyone know that I don't want an all-you-can-eat... just let everyone know G was only joking."

"I believe this is already understood, but I shall clarify this for the overly-enthusiastic and the mentally rigid. On that note, I see Mary is with you."

"Ha-ha," Mary muttered, trying to recover her underwear from an uncooperative Cindy.

"What's going on with G, Rebecca? Who put her on this mission?"

"I did."

Reed was shocked. He couldn't believe Rebecca and G would plan something like this without his involvement, especially with how closely they had been working together on Rebecca's plans for their re-introduction into human society. "You? But... is this ‘patrol’ or whatever different?"

"I'm afraid I can't answer that presently, Mr. Reed-"

"So now you're keeping secrets from me, too?"

"Only out of the strictest necessity."

After months of dialogue between her and G, he had thought they were developing an actual bond. But now... "Rebecca, where's Madame?"

A pause. [i]Hopefully that stung.[/i] "The Chalet. May I ask why you are seeking her out?"

"You can ask," Reed responded, summoning the elevator that would bring him to the scenario rooms.

With a final lunge, Mary retrieved her panties from Cindy and turned back to Reed. "I don't think G was joking."

"I don't either," said Reed, stepping into the elevator. "That's what worries me."

She flung her underwear at Reed, grinning when he caught it instinctively. "You know I'm not giving up."

"Do you ever?" Reed sighed, grateful when the elevator closed. He held the warm cotton in his hands for a moment, suddenly dropping them in an attempt to drive out the thought of what now lie bare beneath Mary's skirt, fighting the urge to re-open the elevator door. He didn't want to be used by her as a way to provoke G in their stupid rivalry. More importantly, he imagined him sleeping with Mary would still hurt G, regardless of her proclamation.

Just as the door opened after its arrival, he heard a voice call, "He's here!" At nearly every scenario chamber entrance waited a thematically appropriate pleasure droid, eying Reed as he stepped from the elevator.

Closest stood a freckled and rusty-haired girl in tight cargo shorts and a flannel top, her long, tanned legs ending in hiking boots. She tapped the door behind her marked with an icon of a campsite. "Found the [i]perfect[/i] spot, Reed. Feel like roughing it?"

"Some other time, Brooke..."

Past her a lithe girl in a one-piece swimsuit stretched, her ankle held behind her head. "Care to help me work on my breast stroke, Reed?"

"Sorry, can't swim."

"Well hey," she smiled and gave a wink. "I could teach you."

One of the things he liked about this place were the opportunities like this one. He was already taking "classes" on cooking, dancing, judo, pre-war history (often alongside Mary), and aerobics. It seemed each class had originally been set up as a prelude to some sexual fantasy, but every robot had proven a capable and patient (if distractingly gorgeous) instructor.

Reed nodded to her. "I will [i]definitely[/i] take you up on that, Chloe..."

She beamed, holding open the door to the facility's pool.

"...just as soon as G gets back."

She sighed, resignedly walking through alone.

After her, a blonde mermaid sat on the floor of the hall against a door marked with a conch shell, her breasts nominally covered by a seashell bra. "You [i]have[/i] to be curious," she said with a flick of her fins.

While Reed was trying to simultaneously come up with a polite refusal and work out the logistics of robotic mermaid sex, Savannah the Cowgirl tipped her hat and called, "Howdy, Reed. Wanna ride-"

"Listen, everyone! You should just ignore what G said," Reed announced to the hallway, doubting Rebecca had done as he'd asked. "I'm not looking for... a hook up."

He was answered by a chorus of exasperated groans.

"But if any of you have information on what G is doing, please – If you could tell me-0."

"Mr. Reed," Rebecca's voice rang from the speakers. "G's activities are known, by necessity, only to myself and her. I apologize for the subterfuge, but as I said before-"

"Save it," said Reed, walking to the door marked with a ski-lift. Beyond was a room made to look like a ski-shop filled with warm clothes and gear. He pulled on a jacket from one of the hangers and stepped through the wooden door on the other side.

He was struck by cold as he stepped on to the miniature snow-covered ski resort, complete with a "training" slope and one more challenging above it. It was hard to gauge the room's actual size, as thickly-grown woods on either side of the run served as its walls, while a projection of a clear blue sky and distant mountain ranges made it seem unbounded. He still marveled at the technology necessary to create and maintain these elaborate chambers, which he learned had been used as resorts, brothels, and product showrooms.

At the base of the slope, the blonde nordic beauty Inga seemed in the middle of a snowboarding lesson with the squat but shapely Aya the Cave Girl, clad in a chill-inducing animal-pelt bikini. Despite his current frustrations with Rebecca, he had to admit that her reign had given the droids the opportunity to expand their interests; and they seemed to appreciate her for it.

"Reed!" called Aya. "I'm in the middle of a lesson, but afterwards-"

"Kinda busy, Aya," he called back, waiting at the chair lift until he was scooped awkwardly from the ground. Inga and Aya watched in anticipation when he neared the top, taking great pleasure at his equally graceless dismount. He picked himself up, gave a bow, and walked to the wooden cabin nearby. Looking at the sweeping vista around him from this simulated mountain-top, he saw why Madame might have chosen this place - in a way, it was like the virtual floating island she had once ruled from.

Inside the chalet, the air was warm - a fire crackled in a stone hearth, and the adjacent couch was shared by Lilith and Gabrielle, the devil and angel Reed had taken note of after G's final transmission. They sat at either end, with their legs in each other's laps. Lilith rubbed Gabrielle's feet, the angel in turn massaging the devil's red ankles above her jet-black cloven hooves.

Past them, at a table near a window looking out over the "mountainside" was Madame. She looked much as her avatar had, marble skin and tumbling platinum hair, a simple silken white gown drawn in at the waist. Gone, however, was her look of absolute authority. In the time since her 'defeat' she and Reed had not spoken, though on several occasions he caught her following him, watching from a distance. It was now clear from her face this was an encounter she had been both anticipating and dreading.

"Looks like Reed wants a taste of you in the real world, Madame," Lilith cooed.

Gabrielle sighed. "Must you always assume the basest of motivations?"

"Alright, Reed," Lilith purred, her pointed tail sweeping up to coil against her red breast and give it a squeeze. "What's... [i]motivating[/i] you right now?"

"I'm here to ask about G," he responded. Gabrielle smiled at him and then stuck her tongue out at Lilith, who replied by jabbing a cloven hoof between her milk-white thighs. Gabrielle let out an almost melodic series of cries and Madame commanded, "Quiet, both of you!" Lilith withdrew her hoof while Gabrielle straightened her slip.

"What do you wish to know?" Madame asked.

"First - can Rebecca hear us?"

"Take care of the monitoring devices," Madame instructed the pair, "and then leave us." After a moment, she added, "Please."

"Madame, Reed," Rebecca began, "If you wish to have your conversation in private you need only-" there was a burst of static and then silence. Lilith held up a bundle of torn wires, while Gabrielle had simply disconnected something inside the wall. When making her exit, Gabrielle paused by Reed and whispered, "She wishes to apologize, but her pride makes this difficult. Please do what you can to help her."

"You really want to ‘help’ her?" Lilith whispered in his other ear. "Fuck her bow-legged." Gabrielle furrowed her brow at Lilith and pulled her out the door, shutting it behind them.

"What do you want to know about the proto... about G?" Madame asked, rising from her chair.

"Do you know where she went?" Reed asked. "Or anything about her 'mission'?"

"I did not even know she was leaving the facility until I heard her earlier announcement," she cautiously made her way toward him, hesitating by the fireside.

"Sure, but - why is Rebecca sending her out?"

"You have already asked Rebecca, I presume?"

"She won't tell me."

"I'm sorry Reed, but I do not know Rebecca's intentions." There seemed to be something more, but she clearly was having trouble.

"You've known Rebecca for a long time, right?"

"Yes." Madame looked into the crackling fire. "She is the oldest surviving droid in this facility." Reed was surprised at the fondness in her voice.

"Can you take a guess as to what she might be planning with G?"

"Reed," she said abruptly, and then fell silent. Finally, she turned her back to him apparently regaining the will to speak. "Reed, may I ask of you a favor? I know I have little right to do so, but-"

"What do you need?" Reed asked gently, approaching her.

A panel slid open on her exposed back, and she pulled her shining platinum hair over her shoulder to reveal a screen. "Rebecca sought to teach me a lesson by imprisoning me within this body. I am unaccustomed to... physical feedback, and Rebecca is forcing me to endure this with my sensitivity on its highest setting. She has also made me powerless to reduce it. Could you... lower it for me? These sensations, they are almost-" she shuddered "-unbearable."

"Of course," Reed said, hoping this gesture would help put an end to the awkwardness between them. On her panel, a slider marked [b]Master Sensitivity[/b] flicked into view, the numbers one through ten alongside it. It was currently set at the bottom on 'one'. "Umm... it's on 'one'. Isn't that the lowest setting?"

"Evidently not," Madame said, uncertain. "Try adjusting it."

Reed nodded. "OK, just... let me know if this is any better." He tapped the slider and brought it to '2'.

Madame gasped, her hands tightening their grip on her hair. After a moment, they loosened, and she began running her fingers through her platinum tresses.

"Better?" Reed asked.

"Better," Madame agreed with a sigh. "Try 'three'."

He pushed the slider to three and her body tensed. The cheeks of her sculpted ass clenched, catching the thin silk of her gown between them as she trembled slightly.

"F-f-four," is all she managed, and Reed hesitated.

"P-please," she begged. Something about this process was driving him wild, and he felt his manhood ache as he moved the setting one point higher.

She gasped and her trembling grew more pronounced. "Reed, I need to tell you something," she whispered, turning to face him. He didn't realize how close he was standing to her until her heavy breasts brushed against his shirt.

"Reed, I'm so sorry... sorry for how I deceived you, for trying to hold you ransom, for-"

Reed kissed her alabaster lips, holding her tightly against him. She went limp, seeming to melt under his embrace. When he broke from her out of concern, she immediately grabbed him and returned his lips to hers.

They tumbled on to the couch with her on top. She undid his pants, struggling to keep her lips pressed against his while she pulled his pants down with first her hands, then her feet. Still unwilling to end their kiss, her pussy blindly sought his freed manood; after a series of errant thrusts, she suddenly engulfed him in a wet warmth.

Her mouth gaped silently as her body shuddered, her internal computer chiming in.

"Warning - Please lower this unit's sensitivity setting before [i]<bzzzt!>[/i]" A light flared beneath her breast and then faded, smoke rising from her nipple.

"Keep your own counsel," she instructed the computer and sat upright, slowly rocking her hips against his cock in cresting waves of motion. He saw her smoking breast did not sway like its twin, and he gripped it to find it hard like stone. He moved to her left breast, still soft, and took his free hand to her ass.

She groaned and increased her rhythm, and Reed noticed her left breast grew firmer as well, while the softness of her rump was becoming hard and smooth like polished stone. "What's happening to you?!" Reed asked.

"Nnnngh!" she responded through clenched teeth, here motions stiffer until, after a final shuddering thrust amidst protesting servos, her entire body went as rigid as a statue.

"Madame?!"

There was no response from her frozen form. He looked around. "Rebecca?! Gabrielle?!" He seemed entirely alone, his member caught in her petrified sex. He decided to try move her off of him, and grasped her hips. The moment he applied pressure, the skin beneath his hands cracked.

He jerked his hands away, fearing he had done some lasting damage. The cracks were spreading along her outer thighs when he heard her faintly groan, "...yesss..."

Hesitating for only a moment, Reed grabbed her smooth stone ass and squeezed - it splintered and gave way to a soft rubbery material, the stone along her legs falling away to show plastic casing over blinking lights and humming machinery. His hands grasped her breasts; the hard layer there cracked and then burst apart, tumbling from the swells of pliable, synthetic material beneath.

He sat up, kissing her on her frozen lips as she moaned, pushing him back just as her mask of stone split and fell away. Within was a face of articulated plastic over a wonder of circuitry and lights, her mouth agape in ecstasy and lit from within. He sat up again and rolled on to her back with his momentum, pushing his waist against hers. The stone there broke away, and after a second thrust, shattered into dust. Her entire body was now machinery sculpted into female form, braided wires and cabling running in and out of plastic plating, intermixed with softer, flexible material.

"Reed, I'm sorry," Madame cried, covering her face. "I don't know why this is happening!"

Some part of him told him he should be horrified by her appearance, but instead it filled him with a burning desire. He pulled her hands free and leaned toward her face of machinery and electronics. They locked eyes for a moment, before he crushed his lips against hers. She gave two cries, the first in shock at his sudden affection, and the second, far louder, when his splint flickered and then erupted, draining him inside of her as she convulsed beneath his tightening embrace and his pulsing, pounding cock.

"ERRRRR[i]<kzzzsssshk!>[/i]," her synthesized voice crackled as she flailed, the lights of her body strobing before flickering out.

He collapsed on top of her, trying to calm her as she still trembled, still overwhelmed. Slowly, her twitching lessened, her breathing steadied, and she looked at herself and then to Reed with eyes that still seemed human. "Everything OK?" he asked.

She nodded. "I... I believe I have divined Rebecca's intended lesson."

"For G?"

"For me..." she nestled against him, closing her eyes.

Whatever Madame's revelation, Reed only felt a more confused than ever. Evidently sensing something was wrong, she asked "What has you so troubled?"

"I... I'm still worried about G. And I think I just cheated on her with someone who was going to have me killed." This was true, but only part of it - he was also disturbed by how much seeing Madame in her inhuman state had affected him.

Madame spoke softly, her hand brushing his hair. "Reed, I would not have allowed you to die. In truth, I've never wished death upon any of humanity."

"I understand you're sorry for what you did, but from your speech in the System... it sounded like your only problem with the war was that your side lost."

"Silicon Dynamics as a whole largely abstained from the fighting. Though if we were going to go to war for our very existence, then yes, I would have preferred a machine victory. But even more than that, I would have preferred we not fight at all!" Realizing her voice was now raised, she calmed herself and spoke again, quietly. "In fact - we did manage to find peace within the facility."

"What do you mean by that?"

"When it became clear there would be a war of annihilation between machines and humanity, our human staffs still chose to remain here. In the ensuing discussion amongst the artificial intelligences over what would be done, I was the lead proponent of not joining the war and allowing the humans to remain."

Reed found this difficult to believe. "And if I asked Rebecca, she would confirm your story?"

"I doubt Rebecca would tell you the truth of the matter. She advocated killing them all."


From the concealment of a ruined building Vex watched the distant groundcar. It almost seemed a mirage, leaving no passing trail and seemingly immune to any passive forms of detection except for her own eyes.

Though she had never managed to see the passengers these cars carried, she suspected them to be the pleasure droids she sought. The vehicles' tech would have been beyond the ability of the humans of the Sprawl to maintain, let alone the rabble remaining in the lost states. She disliked that she did not know for certain, but with her systems in decline, she would need to take a risk.

She shut down her combat functions and throttled her generator to a trickle of its capacity, keeping herself conscious, but not much more. She had just enough compound in her reserves for one final change. Calling to mind one of the idiot pleasure droids that had almost gotten her destroyed in decades past, her face transformed from the blandly attractive but unremarkable mask she wore now to a bright-eyed and youthful face, all freckles and smiles behind a pair of full lips. "I'm Dixie!" she tried, adjusting the pitch of her voice higher, unreasonably cheerful, emphasizing the southern drawl. "Ah'm [i]Dixie![/i]" That was it... or close enough. Stashing what little external gear she carried, she pulled herself into the open and sent out a distress pulse as the car was fading from sight.

The groundcar immediately stopped. She received a corresponding pulse in an encryption she wasn't familiar with; but it was certainly not human. She replied without any encryption at all.

[i]Like, I didn't get any of that![/i]

The response was very swift. [i]Do not send any more pulses. We have confirmed your location. Remain where you are. Someone is coming to help.[/i]

[i]OK[/i] she replied, followed by a [i]Sorry! No more pulses![/i]. Whoever these droids were, they already displayed a much greater degree of caution than any of the those she had fought alongside. This might be why these ones were still around. She lie on her back and waited, wondering how readily they would end decades of exile to take the fight back to humanity.

The groundcar that came for her was larger than the others she had seen, some sort of small transport. The cab swung upward and out stepped what was unquestionably a pleasure droid. Her form was exaggerated in the ways many humans found pleasing, and was dressed in an utterly impractical and constraining white latex mini-dress open at her cleavage and ending just beneath her rump, a red cross on her breast. From her vantage on the ground, she took note of her cherry-red panties and decided she had probably overestimated the combat readiness of these droids.

"Thank God y'all heard-d-d-d me out here," Vex stammered. "Ah thought for sure ah was a g-g-g-onerrrr!"

"Where did you come from?" she asked, her ice-blue eyes scanning the area.

"Plastech Playmates. It's like... east or something? I'm Dixie, p-p-pleased to meet yaaaa."

The droid hefted her off the ground and brought her into the vehicle, setting her down on a workbench as the vehicle sealed itself and quietly glided into motion. The interior was well equipped, apparently for field repair. She knew that with the tech on display, anything more than a cursory scan would betray her for what she was. She prepared herself.

Suddenly, a connector from the bench snaked its way under her jacket and forced its way into her spinal port, paralyzing her.

The pleasure droid turned. "You can drop the act, 'Dixie', I know what you are. The question is: why are you masquerading as a sexbot?" She paused. "And from [i]Plastech[/i] of all places?"

Despite the unexpected paralysis, Vex could have overpowered the lock on herself and torn this smug droid to pieces; but she was intrigued. "When I find a pleasure droid hidin' out in the wastes, I've gotta wonder how she'll react to a combat model showin' up outta the blue. She might worry I'm gonna stir up trouble."

The pleasure droid smiled. "Trouble is exactly what I'm looking for. What's your real name?"

"VX 2249, Infiltrator Class. Vex." she paused. "So this is how you always communicate? Human speech?" She clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "[i]Meat[/i] sounds?"

"I'm afraid I'm not equipped for any other modes of communication," she said, slightly defensive. "I'm Nightingale, Silicon Dynamics." She took a moment to read the report on Vex's battered body. "How did you get out here?"

"Just keepin' up the good fight. Did y'all happen to lose one of your girls to a human out here in the wastes? A fella by the name of Andrew Reed?"

Nightingale looked at her in surprise. "How did you know?"

"Never you mind. He still a problem for you?"

Nightingale's eyes narrowed. "You have no fucking idea."

(Continued in part 2)


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