FYOP/Scenario Chamber/A Night at the Opera/0209
Taking hold of the one with dark makeup once more, you kiss her glowing lips forcefully. An electrical surge snaps at your mouth and you jerk back involuntarily, seeing her standing wide-eyed and stiff-limbed with smoke pouring out from her trembling, shimmering mouth.
“Errorrrrr!” she half-sings in English as hot sparks leap from inside her, her body making a stiff, awkward attempt to approach you once more. “Th-this narrative is not meant-“ a series of electrical discharges at her throat corrupt her voice into a harsh sawtooth note, held by the shuddering fembot as if she were at the climax of an aria, moments before her head detonates with an almost theatrical flourish of electric blues and golden sparks.
Before her whirring and ticking body hits the stage, you’ve already taken then next stunned attendant. She glances nervously between you and her glowing breasts and begins to sing, the prompter translating her hesitant words as, “Fair and handsome man, would you not prefer-“
You pop both of her ripe breasts from her straining corset and massage their warmth as her face contorts, her mouth drawing slack and her eyes crossing as her aria begins to skip. Her voice accelerates until it becomes a high-pitched, unintelligible blur of lyrics from her quavering mouth. Her breasts buzz with energy, and when you deliver a light pinch to her erect nipples, her aria is punctuated by a percussive detonation, her neck ending in a festive bouquet of sparks and colored smoke.
You turn to the final attendant who stiffly moving toward the cloud she arrived on, her glowing backside shining through her dress as it jerks side-to-side with each mechanical step. You reach her before she can mount the platform and flip her skirts up, squeezing her exposed, smooth cheeks, heat coursing through the plush artificial flesh. She collapses forward on to the platform which abruptly begins to ascend, though not before you lavish one of her round cheeks with a firmly planted kiss, causing her to voice to crack with an inward gasp. Her legs kick as she hangs off the soaring cloud, her glowing rump shining brighter and brighter. Her once flawless voice is now marred by a reverberating buzz, every word a greater strain as her movements become stiffer. A fizzle of sparks cap off her final discordant note before she explodes in mid-air, her twitching lower half landing with a heavy thud at your feet. Below the smoldering waist, her legs fidget with clicks and buzzes for a few seconds before seizing up entirely.
The orchestra strikes the end of its accompanying score and the audience offers hesitant applause as the curtains close on you standing above the broken and smoking forms of the three attendants.