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File:20170311 wwd000.jpg

2017-04-09T07:06:26Z

Karel:

Merger 3.0

2012-10-01T02:15:44Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 2.0|Previous part]] - '''Part III''' - [[Merger 4.0|Next part]]

-----

Half-an-hour later Carolyn was still playing Tetris. Still playing her original game of Tetris, in fact. At no point had the phone been able to stack up more than eight rows against her. Carolyn’s face was cool, impassive, slightly bored. She did not seem to
find her success at the game remarkable, or even to notice it; nor did she seem to have any awareness of how much time had passed.

There was a loud *''beep''* as Naomi momentarily came back to life, unbending at the arms and waist and straightening into a fully upright position before freezing still as a statue once more. Althea, too, jerked back to life, her joints suddenly slackening and allowing natural movement back in. She blinked, as if shaking off sleep, and then casually flicked her middle finger against the back of Naomi’s left ear. The eSATAp cable was released, and retracted back into its resting place beneath the nail of Althea’s index finger. Althea bent the nail back into place with an audible *''click''*, and rubbed it with her other fingers. She looked up at Carolyn. “Hey,” she said, smiling.

Carolyn looked up from her game. “Hey,” she said, smiling back. She put the phone back in her purse without exiting from the game; the crashing blocks obliterated her perfect score in a cascade of entropy.

Both girls slowly walked around to face the receptionist, who stood rigidly erect, absolutely motionless, and beaming a radiant and contented smile. Tentatively, with teeth pressed against her lower lip, Althea extended her index finger, the same one that she had shoved behind Naomi’s ear, out to touch the tip of Naomi’s broad, flat nose. She pressed it down for a moment, then quickly withdrew it. The receptionist did not react in any way; her expression remained completely fixed. “Naomi?” asked Althea.

“I’m sorry, that name is: Not Recognized,” answered Naomi, her eyes staring towards some point straight ahead of her. The cadence of her voice alternated upwards and downwards with each word. Her West Indian accent, previously suppressed in conversational speech with the unit, retained its newfound strength.

Carolyn stepped forward. “State serial and unit number,” she said.

“Hello!” answered Naomi. “This unit: designation; B. P. 9. 0. 0. 0... N. C. Unit number; 6. 5. 7.”

“NC 657, can you load your personality program?” asked Althea.

“Searching… Searching… Searching…” Naomi’s smile beamed. “Search complete. No personality software detected.”

Althea nodded.

“Access all memory drives,” ordered Carolyn.

“Accessing Dedicated Memory Drive H:\. Searching… Searching… Searching… Hello! This drive contains: no (zero) information. Would you like to reformat this drive?”

Althea shook her head. “No,” said Carolyn.

“Accessing Dedicated Memory Drive I:\. Searching… Searching… Searching… Hello! This drive contains: no (zero) information. Would you like to reformat this drive?”

“No.”

“Accessing Auxiliary Memory Drive T:\. Searching… Searching… Searching… Hello! This drive contains: no (zero) information. Would you like to reformat this drive?”

“No,” said Althea. “Open control panel and report functional A.I. processor status.”

“Hello! Welcome to: Control Panel! This BP9000 series unit utilizes a TN 9Z-211D functional A.I. processor, from Sibylline Systems©. The status of this processor is currently: Disabled. Would you like to re-enable the functional A.I. processor?”

“No, that’s fine, thank you Naomi,” said Carolyn. Ignoring Naomi’s “Thank You! Exiting: Control Panel,” Carolyn turned to Althea. “Seems okay,” she said.

Althea nodded. “So what are we supposed to do with her now, again?”

“I think-” Carolyn managed to say; then she and Althea suddenly stopped thinking at the same time. Both girls froze in place, as still and silent as Naomi, and then appeared to bow gently towards each other. The pair slumped slightly forward with a set of synchronized, mechanical motions, and the audible *''whirrr''* of two fans gearing up to higher speed filled the room for a moment, fading a few seconds later to leave a noiseless, motionless tableau.

Then, as quickly as it had come over them, this seizure faded, and both girls blinked back into life. They leaned back and looked at one another, almost as if each was encountering the other for the first time that day.

“Oh, hey!” said Carolyn.

“Hey!” said Althea.

Both of them looked at the frozen receptionist android. Althea blinked, squinted. "Another one?" she asked.

"Yeah," said Carolyn, her voice slightly puzzled. "I thought we were done too."

Althead sighed, let her shoulders sag. “All right," she whined. "At ''least'' tell me this is the last one."

Carolyn retrieved her Nokia to check the list she had downloaded onto it. “Second floor receptionist," she read, one eyebrow arched, "BP9000 ''luxury'' unit… yada yada yada… Yup. This should be it.”

“''Ugh'',” said Althea, “''Finally!''” With a quick flourish, she pulled a pair of oversized bandage scissors out from their hiding place, tucked beneath her own oversized belt. “Who knew this company had so much faith in its own products?”

“Ha!” Carolyn laughed. “If only faith were enough, huh?”

“Sister, it’s ''got'' to be enough to get me through the day,” said Althea. The darker-skinned robot immediately set to work cutting down the back of the BP9000’s dress shirt. “Long days like these, anyway.”

Carolyn put the phone back in her purse and pulled out her own bandage scissors. She opened and closed them methodically for a moment, staring into the lifeless eyes of the BP9000 unit. “It’s funny,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of these things before.”

“What? Androids?” said Althea, cutting through the bottom of the receptionist’s shirt.

“No, one of these deluxe BP-series units,” said Carolyn. “Supposedly they’re the best money can buy.”

“Yeah,” said Althea, as she shoved the sliced remnants of the receptionist android’s dress shirt over its shoulders. The white fabric billowed down to hang around the android’s belly, revealing a pair of bare, braless, flawless double-D black breasts. “Except nobody bought them.”

Carolyn reached out to cup one of the breasts in her right hand. The artificial flesh was soft, warm. She traced her thumb over the dark circle of the nipple, staring at the receptionist’s unchanging expression. “Hmm. Yeah. Too expensive, I heard,” she said. “For the markets where they were popular, anyway.”

“Well, maybe they’ll sell now,” said Althea, going to work on the miniskirt. The skirt was stretched so tightly over the receptionist’s gluteals that Althea found herself struggling to move her scissors down through the anal cleft. “To collectors, I suppose.”

“Yeah,” said Carolyn. She withdrew her hand, leaving the android’s heavy left breast to drop and jiggle with its own weight.

Carolyn crouched down and began to cut upwards from the lip of the miniskirt with her scissors, towards the android’s crotch. As she neared the waist, a few wayward curls of silky black synthetic hair began to tumble down to the floor in the wake of the blades. “Huh,” she said, pulling back for a moment and looking down at the cut strands.

With one last push, Althea sliced through the full length of the miniskirt from the rear. The white fabric, now cut into a pair of diamonds barely held together in the middle, whipped off in one easy motion, revealing a wild tangle of nappy black pubic hair between the receptionist’s smooth, muscular legs.

Carolyn stared in awe at this remarkable synthetic savannah bush. “Well,” she said. “I see it’s not straightened ''every''where.”

“Mmm,” Althea interjected, “''Not'' necessarily.” Putting her bandage scissors in her mouth, and holding the blade between her teeth, Althea reached up to the receptionist android’s hairline and ran both hands beneath the BP9000’s flawless jet-black bangs, searching for something with her fingers. There was a brief *''buzzing''* sound, a noise like a dentist’s drill being operated, and suddenly the android’s immaculately straightened hair came off in a single piece. Carolyn saw the glint of tiny metal screws retracting into its luxuriant folds, and the holes where they had lodged themselves in the smooth, plasti-skinned scalp, which now sealed themselves up without a trace. This sudden baldness did little to detract from the beauty of the BP9000, which remained smiling and impassive, its contented expression unaffected by the removal of its hair.

“Wow,” said Carolyn.

“Luxury model,” said Althea. “You can customize the hair on top anytime. For the hair below, you check a box with the order. This,” she said, thrusting the smooth hair at Carolyn, “was apparently the standard style.”

Althea suddenly flopped the mechanical wig on top of her own curly bronze locks. “Hey, Carol, what do you think?” she asked, mugging for an imaginary camera lens. “Should I break out the lye?”

“Give it here,” said Carolyn, reaching for it.

“Nu-uh,” said Althea, giggling. She grabbed onto the receptionist’s hips and hid herself behind the android’s frozen form to dodge Carolyn’s reach. “It’s mine, bitch.”

“Give it!” said Carolyn, laughing. “I want to try it on!” She grabbed onto one breast and one buttock of the BP9000, ready to launch herself around the android in a circular motion at Althea, who crouched on the opposite side of it.

“Nu-''uh''!”

The two robots chased themselves around the frozen figure of the third, laughing and swiping at one another. At last Carolyn got hold of the wig, and a brief tug of war ensued, before Althea cried out “Ow, don’t, you’re going to tear it!” At that, Carol relented, and Althea immediately replaced the wig on top of her own head, a look of mock triumph on her face.

“You look ridiculous,” said Carolyn between simulated breaths.

“''Naturally'',” answered Althea, putting on an ironically haughty accent.

“Hey, Alt,” said Carolyn, “How are you down below?”

“Oh, I’m natural ''all the way, baby''!” said Althea, and both robots broke into laughter again.

An Asian woman materialized in the room. Althea saw her from the corner of her eye, and immediately came to attention, whipping the wig off of her head and hiding it behind her back. She struggled to suppress a sheepish expression. Carolyn, seeing Althea’s reaction, turned around and saw Joyce. She too, suddenly made an effort to appear serious. “Hello, Joyce,” they both said in unison.

The hologram smiled. “Hello, ladies,” it said in its warm and unassuming voice, its projected eyes taking in both the two active androids and the empty shell standing beside them. “How is everything?”

“A-ok, boss lady. Look!” said Althea, holding up the wig. “Another successful headhunt!”

Carolyn bit her finger, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a giggle.

Joyce’s flawless, dimpled smile remained in place. “Everything is ok, then?” she asked.

“Yes, Joyce,” said Carolyn, composing herself. “We’re just finishing up here. Last one!” She beamed at the hologram, and gave a thumbs-up.

“Last one of the day,” said Althea, nodding.

Joyce, too, nodded. “Good, good,” said the hologram. “And how do you both feel?”

Althea appeared puzzled. “Whaddya mean, J. C.?”

The hologram turned, as if on a rotating table, to look direcly at Althea. “How do you feel, Althea?” asked Joyce, a subtle shimmer working its way across her smiling face.

Althea looked taken aback by the directness of the inquiry for a moment. Then she gave a mischevious grin. She tossed the wig over her shoulder, onto the receptionist’s desk, and began snapping her fingers. “Well, I feel like ''da-''…”

Althea went silent, frozen in place, her eyes closed and her wide mouth wide open, paused on the cusp of breaking into song. Her snapping fingers curled into claws as the servos in her hands automatically powered down, giving a faintly agonized look to her soulful appearance. But Althea felt nothing: her personality software and functional A.I. were suspended.

Carolyn looked at Althea, a vaguely confused look on her face. “Wow,” she muttered, reaching out to feel the other android’s fingers as they stopped moving.

“How do you feel, Carolyn?” asked Joyce, turning away from Althea to face her.

“Um,” said Carolyn, “I’m fine, Joyce. Fine. You know.” She turned to face the hologram. “It’s the end of a long day. Althea and I were thinking of having a girls’ night out, you know? Just the two of us. To celebrate.”

“Of course,” said Joyce.

“It’s been a lot of work, what with the rebranding and all,” said Carolyn. “Say, why don’t you joi-”

Carolyn froze in place, personality software and A.I. suspended, pink mouth open, blue eyes wide. Joyce, too froze in place, her eyes pointed at Carolyn as if they were still engaged in a conversation, a curious smile on her face. The ripple effect now pulsed up the length of the holographic female body every ten seconds. The JYC mainframe had interrogated the HY3001 and VG2771 personality programs for any conflicts arising from their new directives, and found none. There was no further need to…

● ● ●

In the present, in the reception area, a second Joyce materialized next to the first, which was still frozen. The new Joyce was dressed identically to the old Joyce. She brushed her light-projected clothes with her hands as if dusting them off, and then, with a wide stance, bent over to brush her pant legs as well, the pant fabric seeming to stretch tight against her bum as she did so. Then she calmly straightened up and looked over at her sister. The ripple effect worked its way up through both of the fit Asian female bodies at an almost identical rate, but a slight increase in its frequency in the frozen Joyce now brought them further and further out of sync.

As expected, an infinite regression loop had begun within the Joyce program as a result of the cache memory review, with each iteration of Joyce now inhabiting the one previous to it and regressing back in time to the one before it in turn, and so on and so on, backwards through all of the previously timetabled interrogation events. The JYC mainframe’s standard solution to this problem was to load a second, parallel Joyce, and to confine the loop to the first one.

The second Joyce, biting her lower lip as if in anticipation, raised her left hand, with its tiny fingers curled against the soft-looking pink palm, except for one hooked, pointed index finger. Gingerly, she reached over and tapped the other Joyce on the shoulder, as if popping a soap bubble. Her lips mouthed a silent *''POW''!*

The colours of the frozen Joyce began to change, slowly fading away. In place of them, a monochromatic shade of pink/purple began to creep in.

Two dimensional text formed awkwardly and illegibly within the three dimensional projected image of the first Joyce, flashing red letters that read: '''ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO CONTINUE? YES. NO.''' A human operator could have reached inside the Asian woman’s chest to select one or the other, but there was no human operator here.

Now, to accompany the change in colour, came an actual acoustic tone, a discordant one that seemed to emanate from all around the frozen Joyce’s increasingly monochromatic body. That body now seemed to flash and shudder, as though static were interfering with the projection. Its static, smiling expression did not change. The tone lowered to a single beat, an “''Eeeeeeee''” noise, like an ECG machine being shut off at a different pitch.

And then the first Joyce disintigrated, coming apart into floating pixels that then seemed to be blown away on the wind. The acoustic tone crashed down like hands being thrust onto piano keys, and then faded, with the entire ensemble disappearing into thin air.

The second Joyce strolled to where the first had been and appeared to inspect the air around it, as if sniffing for some remaining trace of its sister. Finding none, it refocused on the VG2771, adopting precisely the same position and expression as its departed predecessor, and froze in place, picking up where the first Joyce had left off.

-----

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 2.0|Previous part]] - '''Part III''' - [[Merger 4.0|Next part]]

[[Stories|Back to the story archive]]

[[Category:Karel]]
[[Category:Stories]]

Merger 3.0

2012-10-01T02:12:28Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 2.0|Previous part]] - '''Part III''' - [[Merger 4.0|Next part]]

-----

Half-an-hour later Carolyn was still playing Tetris. Still playing her original game of Tetris, in fact. At no point had the phone been able to stack up more than eight rows against her. Carolyn’s face was cool, impassive, slightly bored. She did not seem to
find her success at the game remarkable, or even to notice it; nor did she seem to have any awareness of how much time had passed.

There was a loud *''beep''* as Naomi momentarily came back to life, unbending at the arms and waist and straightening into a fully upright position before freezing still as a statue once more. Althea, too, jerked back to life, her joints suddenly slackening and allowing natural movement back in. She blinked, as if shaking off sleep, and then casually flicked her middle finger against the back of Naomi’s left ear. The eSATAp cable was released, and retracted back into its resting place beneath the nail of Althea’s index finger. Althea bent the nail back into place with an audible *''click''*, and rubbed it with her other fingers. She looked up at Carolyn. “Hey,” she said, smiling.

Carolyn looked up from her game. “Hey,” she said, smiling back. She put the phone back in her purse without exiting from the game; the crashing blocks obliterated her perfect score in a cascade of entropy.

Both girls slowly walked around to face the receptionist, who stood rigidly erect, absolutely motionless, and beaming a radiant and contented smile. Tentatively, with teeth pressed against her lower lip, Althea extended her index finger, the same one that she had shoved behind Naomi’s ear, out to touch the tip of Naomi’s broad, flat nose. She pressed it down for a moment, then quickly withdrew it. The receptionist did not react in any way; her expression remained completely fixed. “Naomi?” asked Althea.

“I’m sorry, that name is: Not Recognized,” answered Naomi, her eyes staring towards some point straight ahead of her. The cadence of her voice alternated upwards and downwards with each word. Her West Indian accent, previously suppressed in conversational speech with the unit, retained its newfound strength.

Carolyn stepped forward. “State serial and unit number,” she said.

“Hello!” answered Naomi. “This unit: designation; B. P. 9. 0. 0. 0... N. C. Unit number; 6. 5. 7.”

“NC 657, can you load your personality program?” asked Althea.

“Searching… Searching… Searching…” Naomi’s smile beamed. “Search complete. No personality software detected.”

Althea nodded.

“Access all memory drives,” ordered Carolyn.

“Accessing Dedicated Memory Drive H:\. Searching… Searching… Searching… Hello! This drive contains: no (zero) information. Would you like to reformat this drive?”

Althea shook her head. “No,” said Carolyn.

“Accessing Dedicated Memory Drive I:\. Searching… Searching… Searching… Hello! This drive contains: no (zero) information. Would you like to reformat this drive?”

“No.”

“Accessing Auxiliary Memory Drive T:\. Searching… Searching… Searching… Hello! This drive contains: no (zero) information. Would you like to reformat this drive?”

“No,” said Althea. “Open control panel and report functional A.I. processor status.”

“Hello! Welcome to: Control Panel! This BP9000 series unit utilizes a TN 9Z-211D functional A.I. processor, from Sibylline Systems©. The status of this processor is currently: Disabled. Would you like to re-enable the functional A.I. processor?”

“No, that’s fine, thank you Naomi,” said Carolyn. Ignoring Naomi’s “Thank You! Exiting: Control Panel,” Carolyn turned to Althea. “Seems okay,” she said.

Althea nodded. “So what are we supposed to do with her now, again?”

“I think-” Carolyn managed to say; then she and Althea suddenly stopped thinking at the same time. Both girls froze in place, as still and silent as Naomi, and then appeared to bow gently towards each other. The pair slumped slightly forward with a set of synchronized, mechanical motions, and the audible *''whirrr''* of two fans gearing up to higher speed filled the room for a moment, fading a few seconds later to leave a noiseless, motionless tableau.

Then, as quickly as it had come over them, this seizure faded, and both girls blinked back into life. They leaned back and looked at one another, almost as if each was encountering the other for the first time that day.

“Oh, hey!” said Carolyn.

“Hey!” said Althea.

Both of them looked at the frozen receptionist android. Althea blinked, squinted. "Another one?" she asked.

"Yeah," said Carolyn, her voice slightly puzzled. "I thought we were done too."

Althead sighed, let her shoulders sag. “All right," she whined. "At ''least'' tell me this is the last one."

Carolyn retrieved her Nokia to check the list she had downloaded onto it. “Second floor receptionist," she read, one eyebrow arched, "BP9000 ''luxury'' unit… yada yada yada… Yup. This should be it.”

“''Ugh'',” said Althea, “''Finally!''” With a quick flourish, she pulled a pair of oversized bandage scissors out from their hiding place, tucked beneath her own oversized belt. “Who knew this company had so much faith in its own products?”

“Ha!” Carolyn laughed. “If only faith were enough, huh?”

“Sister, it’s ''got'' to be enough to get me through the day,” said Althea. The darker-skinned robot immediately set to work cutting down the back of the BP9000’s dress shirt. “Long days like these, anyway.”

Carolyn put the phone back in her purse and pulled out her own bandage scissors. She opened and closed them methodically for a moment, staring into the lifeless eyes of the BP9000 unit. “It’s funny,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of these things before.”

“What? Androids?” said Althea, cutting through the bottom of the receptionist’s shirt.

“No, one of these deluxe BP-series units,” said Carolyn. “Supposedly they’re the best money can buy.”

“Yeah,” said Althea, as she shoved the sliced remnants of the receptionist android’s dress shirt over its shoulders. The white fabric billowed down to hang around the android’s belly, revealing a pair of bare, braless, flawless double-D black breasts. “Except nobody bought them.”

Carolyn reached out to cup one of the breasts in her right hand. The artificial flesh was soft, warm. She traced her thumb over the dark circle of the nipple, staring at the receptionist’s unchanging expression. “Hmm. Yeah. Too expensive, I heard,” she said. “For the markets where they were popular, anyway.”

“Well, maybe they’ll sell now,” said Althea, going to work on the miniskirt. The skirt was stretched so tightly over the receptionist’s gluteals that Althea found herself struggling to move her scissors down through the anal cleft. “To collectors, I suppose.”

“Yeah,” said Carolyn. She withdrew her hand, leaving the android’s heavy left breast to drop and jiggle with its own weight.

Carolyn crouched down and began to cut upwards from the lip of the miniskirt with her scissors, towards the android’s crotch. As she neared the waist, a few wayward curls of silky black synthetic hair began to tumble down to the floor in the wake of the blades. “Huh,” she said, pulling back for a moment and looking down at the cut strands.

With one last push, Althea sliced through the full length of the miniskirt from the rear. The white fabric, now cut into a pair of diamonds barely held together in the middle, whipped off in one easy motion, revealing a wild tangle of nappy black pubic hair between the receptionist’s smooth, muscular legs.

Carolyn stared in awe at this remarkable synthetic savannah bush. “Well,” she said. “I see it’s not straightened ''every''where.”

“Mmm,” Althea interjected, “''Not'' necessarily.” Putting her bandage scissors in her mouth, and holding the blade between her teeth, Althea reached up to the receptionist android’s hairline and ran both hands beneath the BP9000’s flawless jet-black bangs, searching for something with her fingers. There was a brief *''buzzing''* sound, a noise like a dentist’s drill being operated, and suddenly the android’s immaculately straightened hair came off in a single piece. Carolyn saw the glint of tiny metal screws retracting into its luxuriant folds, and the holes where they had lodged themselves in the smooth, plasti-skinned scalp, which now sealed themselves up without a trace. This sudden baldness did little to detract from the beauty of the BP9000, which remained smiling and impassive, its contented expression unaffected by the removal of its hair.

“Wow,” said Carolyn.

“Luxury model,” said Althea. “You can customize the hair on top anytime. For the hair below, you check a box with the order. This,” she said, thrusting the smooth hair at Carolyn, “was apparently the standard style.”

Althea suddenly flopped the mechanical wig on top of her own curly bronze locks. “Hey, Carol, what do you think?” she asked, mugging for an imaginary camera lens. “Should I break out the lye?”

“Give it here,” said Carolyn, reaching for it.

“Nu-uh,” said Althea, giggling. She grabbed onto the receptionist’s hips and hid herself behind the android’s frozen form to dodge Carolyn’s reach. “It’s mine, bitch.”

“Give it!” said Carolyn, laughing. “I want to try it on!” She grabbed onto one breast and one buttock of the BP9000, ready to launch herself around the android in a circular motion at Althea, who crouched on the opposite side of it.

“Nu-''uh''!”

The two robots chased themselves around the frozen figure of the third, laughing and swiping at one another. At last Carolyn got hold of the wig, and a brief tug of war ensued, before Althea cried out “Ow, don’t, you’re going to tear it!” At that, Carol relented, and Althea immediately replaced the wig on top of her own head, a look of mock triumph on her face.

“You look ridiculous,” said Carolyn between simulated breaths.

“''Naturally'',” answered Althea, putting on an ironically haughty accent.

“Hey, Alt,” said Carolyn, “How are you down below?”

“Oh, I’m natural ''all the way, baby''!” said Althea, and both robots broke into laughter again.

An Asian woman materialized in the room. Althea saw her from the corner of her eye, and immediately came to attention, whipping the wig off of her head and hiding it behind her back. She struggled to suppress a sheepish expression. Carolyn, seeing Althea’s reaction, turned around and saw Joyce. She too, suddenly made an effort to appear serious. “Hello, Joyce,” they both said in unison.

The hologram smiled. “Hello, ladies,” it said in its warm and unassuming voice, its projected eyes taking in both the two active androids and the empty shell standing beside them. “How is everything?”

“A-ok, boss lady. Look!” said Althea, holding up the wig. “Another successful headhunt!” A few giggles escaped Carolyn’s mouth.

Joyce’s flawless, dimpled smile remained in place. “Everything is ok, then?” she asked.

“Yes, Joyce,” said Carolyn. “We’re just finishing up here. Last one!” She beamed at the hologram, and gave a thumbs-up.

“Last one of the day,” said Althea, nodding.

Joyce, too, nodded. “Good, good,” said the hologram. “And how do you both feel?”

Althea appeared puzzled. “Whaddya mean, J. C.?”

The hologram turned, as if on a rotating table, to look direcly at Althea. “How do you feel, Althea?” asked Joyce, a subtle shimmer working its way across her smiling face.

Althea looked taken aback by the directness of the inquiry for a moment. Then she gave a mischevious grin. She tossed the wig over her shoulder, onto the receptionist’s desk, and began snapping her fingers. “Well, I feel like ''da-''…”

Althea went silent, frozen in place, her eyes closed and her wide mouth wide open, paused on the cusp of breaking into song. Her snapping fingers curled into claws as the servos in her hands automatically powered down, giving a faintly agonized look to her soulful appearance. But Althea felt nothing: her personality software and functional A.I. were suspended.

Carolyn looked at Althea, a vaguely confused look on her face. “Wow,” she muttered, reaching out to feel the other android’s fingers as they stopped moving.

“How do you feel, Carolyn?” asked Joyce, turning away from Althea to face her.

“Um,” said Carolyn, “I’m fine, Joyce. Fine. You know.” She turned to face the hologram. “It’s the end of a long day. Althea and I were thinking of having a girls’ night out, you know? Just the two of us. To celebrate.”

“Of course,” said Joyce.

“It’s been a lot of work, what with the rebranding and all,” said Carolyn. “Say, why don’t you joi-”

Carolyn froze in place, personality software and A.I. suspended, pink mouth open, blue eyes wide. Joyce, too froze in place, her eyes pointed at Carolyn as if they were still engaged in a conversation, a curious smile on her face. The ripple effect now pulsed up the length of the holographic female body every ten seconds. The JYC mainframe had interrogated the HY3001 and VG2771 personality programs for any conflicts arising from their new directives, and found none. There was no further need to…

● ● ●

In the present, in the reception area, a second Joyce materialized next to the first, which was still frozen. The new Joyce was dressed identically to the old Joyce. She brushed her light-projected clothes with her hands as if dusting them off, and then, with a wide stance, bent over to brush her pant legs as well, the pant fabric seeming to stretch tight against her bum as she did so. Then she calmly straightened up and looked over at her sister. The ripple effect worked its way up through both of the fit Asian female bodies at an almost identical rate, but a slight increase in its frequency in the frozen Joyce now brought them further and further out of sync.

As expected, an infinite regression loop had begun within the Joyce program as a result of the cache memory review, with each iteration of Joyce now inhabiting the one previous to it and regressing back in time to the one before it in turn, and so on and so on, backwards through all of the previously timetabled interrogation events. The JYC mainframe’s standard solution to this problem was to load a second, parallel Joyce, and to confine the loop to the first one.

The second Joyce, biting her lower lip as if in anticipation, raised her left hand, with its tiny fingers curled against the soft-looking pink palm, except for one hooked, pointed index finger. Gingerly, she reached over and tapped the other Joyce on the shoulder, as if popping a soap bubble. Her lips mouthed a silent *''POW''!*

The colours of the frozen Joyce began to change, slowly fading away. In place of them, a monochromatic shade of pink/purple began to creep in.

Two dimensional text formed awkwardly and illegibly within the three dimensional projected image of the first Joyce, flashing red letters that read: '''ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO CONTINUE? YES. NO.''' A human operator could have reached inside the Asian woman’s chest to select one or the other, but there was no human operator here.

Now, to accompany the change in colour, came an actual acoustic tone, a discordant one that seemed to emanate from all around the frozen Joyce’s increasingly monochromatic body. That body now seemed to flash and shudder, as though static were interfering with the projection. Its static, smiling expression did not change. The tone lowered to a single beat, an “''Eeeeeeee''” noise, like an ECG machine being shut off at a different pitch.

And then the first Joyce disintigrated, coming apart into floating pixels that then seemed to be blown away on the wind. The acoustic tone crashed down like hands being thrust onto piano keys, and then faded, with the entire ensemble disappearing into thin air.

The second Joyce strolled to where the first had been and appeared to inspect the air around it, as if sniffing for some remaining trace of its sister. Finding none, it refocused on the VG2771, adopting precisely the same position and expression as its departed predecessor, and froze in place, picking up where the first Joyce had left off.

-----

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 2.0|Previous part]] - '''Part III''' - [[Merger 4.0|Next part]]

[[Stories|Back to the story archive]]

[[Category:Karel]]
[[Category:Stories]]

Merger

2012-09-30T17:39:13Z

Karel:

● ● ●

''Have been so frustrated by what has been on offer as of late that I have been compelled to write a new story, for the first time in years. I can think of a few people who should enjoy this, and I don't much care who doesn't.''

- Karel

==Merger==
By [[User:Karel|Karel]] (©2012)

#[[Merger 1.0]]
#[[Merger 2.0]]
#[[Merger 3.0]]
#[[Merger 4.0]]
#[[Merger 5.0]]
#[[Merger 6.0]]
#[[Merger 7.0]]

-----

[[Stories|Back to the story archive]]

[[Category:Karel]]
[[Category:Features]]
[[Category:Stories]]

Merger 7.0

2012-09-30T17:38:51Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 6.0|Previous part]] - '''Part VI''' - [[Merger 8.0|Next part]]

-----

● ● ●

The front doors of the IRU Robotics building slid open at 6:00 am the next morning, and four female figures, resembling two pairs of identical twins, walked briskly inside.

The two in the centre were petite, pretty, swarthy-skinned, with sharp, angular facial features and prominent but attractive aquiline noses. They wore identical pairs of Luis Vuitton sunglasses, obscuring their electrifying green eyes, and identical Chanel skirt-suits. The only things that differentiated them were their loose silk scarves, which bore different floral designs, and which they wore billowing around folds of luxuriant black hair.

The one on the right, with the pink, poppy-patterned scarf, was Yasmeen bint-Jabri, née Dar, President of the Emirati Group and second wife of its Chairman, Sheikh Hossein bin Mohmed al-Jabr al-Zayed al-Ahmad.

The one on the left, with the scarf depicting a tiled maze of red lilies, was Bint-Jabri’s proxy: a custom-designed synthetic doppelgänger, cut to fit the diminutive CEO’s slender features as closely as the stylish but functional professional haute couture that both “women” wore. This one was here to become acquainted with her new home: the managerial style pioneered by her archetype had brought the real Bint-Jabri to the very cusp of the select Forbes list of self-made female billionaires, and “self-made” was something that Bint-Jabri took very seriously, having commissioned so many copies of herself over the years to “personally” oversee the dozens of companies she ran.

The other two figures, which flanked the pair of CEOs, were more representative of the kind of product that those companies actually produced. Resembling a couple of pretty, twenty-something Caucasoid North African girls, they were smartly but functionally kitted out in tightly-fitting black cosmetic hijab, with matching black pantsuits tightly stretched over small, perky breasts and pert, round buns. With their pale, nearly transluscent skin, blue eyes, and soft, bubblegum-pink lips, “cute” seemed the best word to describe these basic gynobots; but this morning they appeared programmed entirely for business.

Joyce materialized on cue in the front lobby. “Good morning!” she cheered, infectous enthusiasm inflected in her synthesized voice. “Welcome, Ms. Bint-Jabri! Congratulations on concluding the successful merger of IRU Robotics Incorporated and Emirati Group! On behalf of-”

The red-scarved Yasmeen cut the hologram off in mid sentence with a wave of her hand. “Have all of the new control protocols been installed?”

“All new control protocols are fully installed,” said Joyce, a subtle ripple passing through her holographic body. “The Emirati Group is presently the registered terminus of all local command pathways! All systems linked to my mainframe are fully at your disposal!” The projection stared at both Bint-Jabris, smiling like a kid showing off a straight “A” report card.

“Well then,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen, scrutinizing a tiny chip in her manicured nails, “Take us to see the inventory.”

“Of course!” said Joyce. “Right this way!”

Joyce turned around 180°, her holographic body rotating in place as if on top of a turntable, and began to glide toward the double doors behind the front desk, her thick legs hovering and motionless.

“Where are the support staff?” asked the red-scarved Yasmeen, the heels of her Manolo Blahniks clicking against the lobby’s ceramic floor as she followed close behind the hologram. The pink-scarved Yasmeen, walking past the unmanned reception desk, glanced a mound of plastic-wrapped bundles piled discreetly behind it.

The automatic double doors slid open ahead of Joyce, and the hologram glided through, leading the four females onto the showroom floor. Three showpiece models, barely visible from the lobby but now on full display to any customers welcomed inside, stood poised against a glass wall, frozen in mid-laugh: two BP8500s and an IL8002. Unlike the BP9000 series units, which were styled as composites incorporating a whole host of “ideal” physical features, BP8500s – in this case, a stylish, cocoa-coloured, Somalian-featured IB222 and a smooth, Sudanese-looking AW873 the colour of dark chocolate – were designed to more closely resemble specific celebrity models, although not so closely as to actually require the payment of licensing fees. The IL8002, though a slightly less sophisticated unit, was pure craftsmanship: a glorious red-headed beauty whose creamy, curvaceous body was covered in thousands of individually painted freckles.

Yasmeen crinkled her nose in distaste. Bint-Jabri had cut her teeth as a turnaround specialist, and IRU Robotics, by any measure, was in desperate need of a turnaround. The units posed in front of her were among the best that money could buy, but the company’s reputation for quality and craftsmanship went largely unnoticed as a result of the cheap, evasive calculations embodied in series like the BP8500, which had led industry commentators to deride IRU for producing “knockoffs.”

But easily the biggest source of woe had been previous management’s stubborn resistance to changing IRU’s niche brand. The company’s consistently misguided design decisions had given it traction only in a few tiny African markets, but had left it a middling player in the increasingly sclerotic markets of America, Brazil, and the European Federation; and it had next to no presence in Asia, where Emirati was now engaged in cutthroat competition with a number of aggressive Chinese, Korean, and Singaporean firms.

Bint-Jabri’s crack team of marketing specialists had, however, assured her that the problem was primarily aesthetic. Hence, the first managerial directive of the new merged entity: a general reboot of the brand.

“I’m sorry,” said the floating Joyce, her comic smile turning upside-down into a comic frown. “All discontinued series support staff have already been processed.”

“How many of the support staff were discontinued series?” asked the pink-scarved Yasmeen.

“Forty-one, out of forty-two total staff,” answered Joyce. She smiled again, oblivious to the fact that this answer, like the last one, was probably not what the women wanted to hear.

“Are you counting yourself?” asked the red-scarved Yasmeen.

“Oh no, of course not!” said Joyce, with an animated shake of her head. ““I’m certainly not staff! My mainframe is the registered property of the Emirati Group.” Her dimples dug in a little deeper. “I strive only to be the best possible corporate asset!”

The pink-scarved Yasmeen gestured back at the showroom models. “How many other luxury models like these are there on the premises?” she asked.

“At present, there are two BP9000 series units: unit number HB544, previously purposed main reception, and one, unit number NC657, previously purposed executive reception. Both have been fully processed.”

The red-scarved Yasmeen turned to one of the pantsuited gynobots. “Process these BP8500 units as well,” she said, and then, turning to the other Yasmeen, asked “Leave the IL8002 up, I think?”

“I think so,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen, nodding. The IL series was still supported. “For now.”

“Of course,” said the gynobot. Its voice was smooth and girlish. Both units instantly swung into action.

The pink-scarved Yasmeen turned to Joyce. “Well then,” she said, “take us to see the inventory.”

● ● ●

“This IRU facility is the primary transit hub for female product throughout Eastern North America, shipping and handling series designations AA through ZS,” said Joyce, her projected body skimming above the pocked concrete floor of the caverous warehouse. Thousands of naked androids filled the space, standing in rows or piled up like cordwood, lying prone on or propped up against the stacks of pallets, some wrapped in plastic, most not. A fine layer of dust lay sprinkled over hundreds of bare breasts, open palms, and fluffy Afros. “Male product is routed through Transit Centre No. 3, five-point-two miles southeast of this location,” said Joyce.

“Yes, we’re headed there this afternoon,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen. “Have the designated luxury series units been sent there already?”

“Yes,” said Joyce, “All except the five previously mentioned.”

Transit Centre No. 3 was equipped with an entire suite of cleanrooms. “Are there any cleanroom facilities at this location?” asked the pink-scarved Yasmeen, brushing some dust off of her left shoulderpad.

“There is one cleanroom,” said Joyce. “It has never been utilized.”

“That should be fine,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen. One cleanroom was probably sufficient for five androids. It had been decided that it was more economical to harvest the high quality components from the remaining luxury units for use in other lines rather than risk being forced to sell the units at a discount.

The red-scarved Yasmeen stopped in front of a cage containing about three dozen androids with shiny, straightened hair, thick, glossy lips, and wide, fleshy thighs. The identical frozen faces, staring out with glassy, sightless eyes, were the sort of handsome visages one might expect to see at a reasonably priced nightclub in Bed-Stuy or D.C. “What series are these?” asked the robot Yasmeen.

The Joyce hologram rotated to face the cage, as if its projected eyes needed to be pointed at the inventory contained inside to identify it. “Those units are: designation; SM1001, 1002, and 1002(b),” said Joyce, her body rippling again. “Primary purposing: hospital care, domicilial care, intermediate care, palliative care, custodial and janitorial service, domestic service, food service, and security services (administrative). Secondary sectors of operation: sexual services. Secondary sectors of operation: sexual services. Primary markets: the United States, the United Kingdom, Brazil.”

“This is still a supported series, right?” asked the red-scarved Yasmeen, though she was already programmed with the answer.

The pink-scarved Yasmeen nodded. “Yes,” she said, ignoring Joyce’s identical response to the question. A few of the old models were being kept on for existing customers, and the SM series units were still profitable as basic utility models, serving slop in institutional cafeterias and cleaning up after wizened dementia patients. “We can use those. What are these?”

The pink-scarved Yasmeen pointed to another cage behind her, filled with slightly more slender, less dark-skinned units. These model, like the SMs, also sported outsized asses and thighs, but harmonized with figures that were more shapely, athletic, and evenly proportioned. Their bountiful hair was coiled in thin curls, which on a few of the units were dyed varying shades of peroxide blond. One or two also wore cosmetic pairs of thick-framed glasses. Their pretty if unpolished faces, with skin a shade lighter than the SM units, resembled those of sorority sisters at FAMU or Tuskegee. One, obviously a fetish model, showed off a slightly distended belly.

Again, Joyce rotated around to face the other Yasmeen, a ripple passing through her projected holographic body. “Those units are: designation; BM2000, 2100, 2101(B),” she said. “Primary purposing: domestic service, secretarial services, hospital care, domicilial care, child care, and sexual services. Secondary sectors of operation: sexual services, marketing. Primary markets: the United States, the United Kingdom, Brazil, France.”

The red-scarved Yasmeen nodded. The BMs were another supported series, though they were being downgraded: they were now to be marketed as a simple alternative to the SM units, to the same utility customers, vacating prime sectors like child and domestic care to make way for established Emirati product. “Open these gates, will you?” said the robot Bint-Jabri.

“Of course!” said Joyce, and the electronic latches of the cage doors *''buzzed''* and released.

The gynobots had noiselessly rejoined the group, having finished packing up the units in the showroom; now they walked over to the first SM unit inside the cage. One of the gynobots, positioning itself behind the unit, traced a single pink-capped index finger down its lacquered back, stopping at a discreet mole placed just down and to the left of its right scapula. It pressed down on the mole, and the dark square rectangle of flesh on which it rested popped up and twisted away from the LCD control panel with a *''beep''*.

The second gynobot, meanwhile, peeled up a somewhat larger flap of fabric, lined with velcro, from its sister’s back, to reveal a full array of controls, including a small screen, a basic keyboard, and two spools of cable, one eSATp and one HP-IB . Everything beneath the surface of the pantsuit appeared entirely artificial, with no trace of synthetic flesh. The second gynobot swiftly drew out a length of eSATp cable and plugged it into the receptive slot behind the SM units right ear; as it did so the first gynobot emitted a loud *''buzz''*, then contorted itself into a severely angled position, as if offering its back as a writing desk. The small keyboard embedded in its backside raised up and folded out, to reveal a full QWERTY layoit.

The SM unit emitted a *''beep''*, blinked, and canted its head. “Hello,” it said, its voice a rich contralto. “This unit: designation; S. M. 1. 0. 0. 1... S. J. Unit number; 1. 1. 1.”

The red-scarved Yasmeen wrinkled her nose at the sound of the android. “Open language settings,” she said, walking up behind the first gynobot. The second gynobot robot quickly tapped a few of the keys on its sister’s back to bring up the list of installed options. Sure enough, the SM unit’s default was the first to appear alphabetically: “African American Vernacular English,” or “AAVE.”

“Let’s change that, shall we?” said the red-scarved Yasmeen.

'''AFRICAN AMERICAN VERNACULAR ENGLISH'''

''AFRIKAANS''

''AMERICAN STANDARD ENGLISH''

''AMERICAN STANDARD SOUTHERN ENGLISH''

''AMHARIC''

''ARABIC, STANDARD''

''BAJAN''

''BERBER, STANDARD''

''BRITISH BAJAN''

''BRITISH ENGLISH, MLE''

'''*BRITISH ENGLISH, RP*'''

''BRITISH JAMAICAN ENGLISH''

''BRITISH NIGERIAN ENGLISH''

''FRENCH, SENEGAL''

''FRENCH, STANDARD''

''GERMAN, STANDARD''

''ITALIAN, STANDARD''

''JAMAICAN ENGLISH''

''PORTUGUESE, BRAZILIAN''

''SPANISH, AMERICAN STANDARD''

''SPANISH, EUROPEAN STANDARD''

“Language settings altered,” said the SM unit, its dulcet tones now perfectly clipped to the standard of the BBC World Service. “New default: British English, Received Pronunciation. Thank you.” The android’s face was impassive but expressionless, its deep voice soothing but devoid of emotion.

“Much better,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen. “Have them set that as the default for all of the units.” The other Yasmeen nodded as the second gynobot, already accepting the order, keyed in the appropriate commands.

“Control settings accessed,” said the SM android. “Wireless options accessed. Wireless command accepted. Please install wireless receiver now.”

The second gynobot unclipped the eSATp cable from behind the android’s left ear, allowing it whip back into the control array. From the same control array it retrieved a slotted wireless receiver, resembling a black flash memory device with an eSATp interface. It roughly jammed the receiver back behind the SM unit’s ear, where it rested, tucked in behind the ear as an accountant might tuck in a pen or a pencil.

With a series of electronic *''whirrs''*, the control array keyboard refolded itself and retracted back into the first gynobot, which then returned to life, standing up and straightening itself out. The second gynobot closed the flap covering its sister’s control array, pressing down on the velcro to ensure a proper seal. The first gynobot then deftly twirled about on one foot, presenting the front of its pantsuit for a cosmetic smoothing-down by its sister (as if it were being dusted off). When this was complete it mechanically reciprocated, oblivious to the fact that the other gynobot’s controls had not been accessed, nor its clothes rumpled.

The red-scarved Yasmeen, reaching inside her Gucci purse, pulled out what appeared to be a pair of unmarked spray-paint cans and handed one to each of the pantsuited gynobots, who immediately began readying them with a few swift shakes. The first gynobot pressed down on the SM android’s mole again, causing the patch of brown flesh to reseal itself with a *''whirr''*; as soon as it was closed, both gynobots began methodically spraying the motionless every inch of the android’s naked body, everywhere below the neck and above the wrists and ankles, with a glittery silver substance. The spray was not a paint but a sophisticated polymerized pseudo-latex that quickly adhered to itself to form an artificial bodysuit, skintight and filling every crevasse but legally acceptable as clothing. Within a few minutes the SM unit was dressed in her “uniform,” and ready to work.

The gynobots held out both cans, and the SM unit, now guided by the wireless signals from the two gynobots, held out its pink palms to receive them. The android set about spraying its fellow SM units in its cage, while the gynobots proceeded to the cage containing the BM units and resumed their work there.

The pink-scarved Yasmeen turned to Joyce, who had smilingly observed all of this activity without comment. “Well,” she said, “I think it's time we finished the tour.”

-----

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 6.0|Previous part]] - '''Part VII''' - [[Merger 8.0|Next part]]

Merger 7.0

2012-09-30T17:38:28Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 6.0|Previous part]] - '''Part VI''' - [[Merger 8.0|Next part]]

-----

● ● ●

The front doors of the IRU Robotics building slid open at 6:00 am the next morning, and four female figures, resembling two pairs of identical twins, walked briskly inside.

The two in the centre were petite, pretty, swarthy-skinned, with sharp, angular facial features and prominent but attractive aquiline noses. They wore identical pairs of Luis Vuitton sunglasses, obscuring their electrifying green eyes, and identical Chanel skirt-suits. The only things that differentiated them were their loose silk scarves, which bore different floral designs, and which they wore billowing around folds of luxuriant black hair.

The one on the right, with the pink, poppy-patterned scarf, was Yasmeen bint-Jabri, née Dar, President of the Emirati Group and second wife of its Chairman, Sheikh Hossein bin Mohmed al-Jabr al-Zayed al-Ahmad.

The one on the left, with the scarf depicting a tiled maze of red lilies, was Bint-Jabri’s proxy: a custom-designed synthetic doppelgänger, cut to fit the diminutive CEO’s slender features as closely as the stylish but functional professional haute couture that both “women” wore. This one was here to become acquainted with her new home: the managerial style pioneered by her archetype had brought the real Bint-Jabri to the very cusp of the select Forbes list of self-made female billionaires, and “self-made” was something that Bint-Jabri took very seriously, having commissioned so many copies of herself over the years to “personally” oversee the dozens of companies she ran.

The other two figures, which flanked the pair of CEOs, were more representative of the kind of product that those companies actually produced. Resembling a couple of pretty, twenty-something Caucasoid North African girls, they were smartly but functionally kitted out in tightly-fitting black cosmetic hijab, with matching black pantsuits tightly stretched over small, perky breasts and pert, round buns. With their pale, nearly transluscent skin, blue eyes, and soft, bubblegum-pink lips, “cute” seemed the best word to describe these basic gynobots; but this morning they appeared programmed entirely for business.

Joyce materialized on cue in the front lobby. “Good morning!” she cheered, infectous enthusiasm inflected in her synthesized voice. “Welcome, Ms. Bint-Jabri! Congratulations on concluding the successful merger of IRU Robotics Incorporated and Emirati Group! On behalf of-”

The red-scarved Yasmeen cut the hologram off in mid sentence with a wave of her hand. “Have all of the new control protocols been installed?”

“All new control protocols are fully installed,” said Joyce, a subtle ripple passing through her holographic body. “The Emirati Group is presently the registered terminus of all local command pathways! All systems linked to my mainframe are fully at your disposal!” The projection stared at both Bint-Jabris, smiling like a kid showing off a straight “A” report card.

“Well then,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen, scrutinizing a tiny chip in her manicured nails, “Take us to see the inventory.”

“Of course!” said Joyce. “Right this way!”

Joyce turned around 180°, her holographic body rotating in place as if on top of a turntable, and began to glide toward the double doors behind the front desk, her thick legs hovering and motionless.

“Where are the support staff?” asked the red-scarved Yasmeen, the heels of her Manolo Blahniks clicking against the lobby’s ceramic floor as she followed close behind the hologram. The pink-scarved Yasmeen, walking past the unmanned reception desk, glanced a mound of plastic-wrapped bundles piled discreetly behind it.

The automatic double doors slid open ahead of Joyce, and the hologram glided through, leading the four females onto the showroom floor. Three showpiece models, barely visible from the lobby but now on full display to any customers welcomed inside, stood poised against a glass wall, frozen in mid-laugh: two BP8500s and an IL8002. Unlike the BP9000 series units, which were styled as composites incorporating a whole host of “ideal” physical features, BP8500s – in this case, a stylish, cocoa-coloured, Somalian-featured IB222 and a smooth, Sudanese-looking AW873 the colour of dark chocolate – were designed to more closely resemble specific celebrity models, although not so closely as to actually require the payment of licensing fees. The IL8002, though a slightly less sophisticated unit, was pure craftsmanship: a glorious red-headed beauty whose creamy, curvaceous body was covered in thousands of individually painted freckles.

Yasmeen crinkled her nose in distaste. Bint-Jabri had cut her teeth as a turnaround specialist, and IRU Robotics, by any measure, was in desperate need of a turnaround. The units posed in front of her were among the best that money could buy, but the company’s reputation for quality and craftsmanship went largely unnoticed as a result of the cheap, evasive calculations embodied in series like the BP8500, which had led industry commentators to deride IRU for producing “knockoffs.”

But easily the biggest source of woe had been previous management’s stubborn resistance to changing IRU’s niche brand. The company’s consistently misguided design decisions had given it traction only in a few tiny African markets, but had left it a middling player in the increasingly sclerotic markets of America, Brazil, and the European Federation; and it had next to no presence in Asia, where Emirati was now engaged in cutthroat competition with a number of aggressive Chinese, Korean, and Singaporean firms.

Bint-Jabri’s crack team of marketing specialists had, however, assured her that the problem was primarily aesthetic. Hence, the first managerial directive of the new merged entity: a general reboot of the brand.

“I’m sorry,” said the floating Joyce, her comic smile turning upside-down into a comic frown. “All discontinued series support staff have already been processed.”

“How many of the support staff were discontinued series?” asked the pink-scarved Yasmeen.

“Forty-one, out of forty-two total staff,” answered Joyce. She smiled again, oblivious to the fact that this answer, like the last one, was probably not what the women wanted to hear.

“Are you counting yourself?” asked the red-scarved Yasmeen.

“Oh no, of course not!” said Joyce, with an animated shake of her head. ““I’m certainly not staff! My mainframe is the registered property of the Emirati Group.” Her dimples dug in a little deeper. “I strive only to be the best possible corporate asset!”

The pink-scarved Yasmeen gestured back at the showroom models. “How many other luxury models like these are there on the premises?” she asked.

“At present, there are two BP9000 series units: unit number HB544, previously purposed main reception, and one, unit number NC657, previously purposed executive reception. Both have been fully processed.”

The red-scarved Yasmeen turned to one of the pantsuited gynobots. “Process these BP8500 units as well,” she said, and then, turning to the other Yasmeen, asked “Leave the IL8002 up, I think?”

“I think so,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen, nodding. The IL series was still supported. “For now.”

“Of course,” said the gynobot. Its voice was smooth and girlish. Both units instantly swung into action.

The pink-scarved Yasmeen turned to Joyce. “Well then,” she said, “take us to see the inventory.”

● ● ●

“This IRU facility is the primary transit hub for female product throughout Eastern North America, shipping and handling series designations AA through ZS,” said Joyce, her projected body skimming above the pocked concrete floor of the caverous warehouse. Thousands of naked androids filled the space, standing in rows or piled up like cordwood, lying prone on or propped up against the stacks of pallets, some wrapped in plastic, most not. A fine layer of dust lay sprinkled over hundreds of bare breasts, open palms, and fluffy Afros. “Male product is routed through Transit Centre No. 3, five-point-two miles southeast of this location,” said Joyce.

“Yes, we’re headed there this afternoon,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen. “Have the designated luxury series units been sent there already?”

“Yes,” said Joyce, “All except the five previously mentioned.”

Transit Centre No. 3 was equipped with an entire suite of cleanrooms. “Are there any cleanroom facilities at this location?” asked the pink-scarved Yasmeen, brushing some dust off of her left shoulderpad.

“There is one cleanroom,” said Joyce. “It has never been utilized.”

“That should be fine,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen. One cleanroom was probably sufficient for five androids. It had been decided that it was more economical to harvest the high quality components from the remaining luxury units for use in other lines rather than risk being forced to sell the units at a discount.

The red-scarved Yasmeen stopped in front of a cage containing about three dozen androids with shiny, straightened hair, thick, glossy lips, and wide, fleshy thighs. The identical frozen faces, staring out with glassy, sightless eyes, were the sort of handsome visages one might expect to see at a reasonably priced nightclub in Bed-Stuy or D.C. “What series are these?” asked the robot Yasmeen.

The Joyce hologram rotated to face the cage, as if its projected eyes needed to be pointed at the inventory contained inside to identify it. “Those units are: designation; SM1001, 1002, and 1002(b),” said Joyce, her body rippling again. “Primary purposing: hospital care, domicilial care, intermediate care, palliative care, custodial and janitorial service, domestic service, food service, and security services (administrative). Secondary sectors of operation: sexual services. Secondary sectors of operation: sexual services. Primary markets: the United States, the United Kingdom, Brazil.”

“This is still a supported series, right?” asked the red-scarved Yasmeen, though she was already programmed with the answer.

The pink-scarved Yasmeen nodded. “Yes,” she said, ignoring Joyce’s identical response to the question. A few of the old models were being kept on for existing customers, and the SM series units were still profitable as basic utility models, serving slop in institutional cafeterias and cleaning up after wizened dementia patients. “We can use those. What are these?”

The pink-scarved Yasmeen pointed to another cage behind her, filled with slightly more slender, less dark-skinned units. These model, like the SMs, also sported outsized asses and thighs, but harmonized with figures that were more shapely, athletic, and evenly proportioned. Their bountiful hair was coiled in thin curls, which on a few of the units were dyed varying shades of peroxide blond. One or two also wore cosmetic pairs of thick-framed glasses. Their pretty if unpolished faces, with skin a shade lighter than the SM units, resembled those of sorority sisters at FAMU or Tuskegee. One, obviously a fetish model, showed off a slightly distended belly.

Again, Joyce rotated around to face the other Yasmeen, a ripple passing through her projected holographic body. “Those units are: designation; BM2000, 2100, 2101(B),” she said. “Primary purposing: domestic service, secretarial services, hospital care, domicilial care, child care, and sexual services. Secondary sectors of operation: sexual services, marketing. Primary markets: the United States, the United Kingdom, Brazil, France.”

The red-scarved Yasmeen nodded. The BMs were another supported series, though they were being downgraded: they were now to be marketed as a simple alternative to the SM units, to the same utility customers, vacating prime sectors like child and domestic care to make way for established Emirati product. “Open these gates, will you?” said the robot Bint-Jabri.

“Of course!” said Joyce, and the electronic latches of the cage doors *''buzzed''* and released.

The gynobots had noiselessly rejoined the group, having finished packing up the units in the showroom; now they walked over to the first SM unit inside the cage. One of the gynobots, positioning itself behind the unit, traced a single pink-capped index finger down its lacquered back, stopping at a discreet mole placed just down and to the left of its right scapula. It pressed down on the mole, and the dark square rectangle of flesh on which it rested popped up and twisted away from the LCD control panel with a *''beep''*.

The second gynobot, meanwhile, peeled up a somewhat larger flap of fabric, lined with velcro, from its sister’s back, to reveal a full array of controls, including a small screen, a basic keyboard, and two spools of cable, one eSATp and one HP-IB . Everything beneath the surface of the pantsuit appeared entirely artificial, with no trace of synthetic flesh. The second gynobot swiftly drew out a length of eSATp cable and plugged it into the receptive slot behind the SM units right ear; as it did so the first gynobot emitted a loud *''buzz''*, then contorted itself into a severely angled position, as if offering its back as a writing desk. The small keyboard embedded in its backside raised up and folded out, to reveal a full QWERTY layoit.

The SM unit emitted a *''beep''*, blinked, and canted its head. “Hello,” it said, its voice a rich contralto. “This unit: designation; S. M. 1. 0. 0. 1... S. J. Unit number; 1. 1. 1.”

The red-scarved Yasmeen wrinkled her nose at the sound of the android. “Open language settings,” she said, walking up behind the first gynobot. The second gynobot robot quickly tapped a few of the keys on its sister’s back to bring up the list of installed options. Sure enough, the SM unit’s default was the first to appear alphabetically: “African American Vernacular English,” or “AAVE.”

“Let’s change that, shall we?” said the red-scarved Yasmeen.

'''AFRICAN AMERICAN VERNACULAR ENGLISH'''

''AFRIKAANS''

''AMERICAN STANDARD ENGLISH''

''AMERICAN STANDARD SOUTHERN ENGLISH''

''AMHARIC''

''ARABIC, STANDARD''

''BAJAN''

''BERBER, STANDARD''

''BRITISH BAJAN''

''BRITISH ENGLISH, MLE''

'''*BRITISH ENGLISH, RP*'''

''BRITISH JAMAICAN ENGLISH''

''BRITISH NIGERIAN ENGLISH''

''FRENCH, SENEGAL''

''FRENCH, STANDARD''

''GERMAN, STANDARD''

''ITALIAN, STANDARD''

''JAMAICAN ENGLISH''

''PORTUGUESE, BRAZILIAN''

''SPANISH, AMERICAN STANDARD''

''SPANISH, EUROPEAN STANDARD''

“Language settings altered,” said the SM unit, its dulcet tones now perfectly clipped to the standard of the BBC World Service. “New default: British English, Received Pronunciation. Thank you.” The android’s face was impassive but expressionless, its deep voice soothing but devoid of emotion.

“Much better,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen. “Have them set that as the default for all of the units.” The other Yasmeen nodded as the second gynobot, already accepting the order, keyed in the appropriate commands.

“Control settings accessed,” said the SM android. “Wireless options accessed. Wireless command accepted. Please install wireless receiver now.”

The second gynobot unclipped the eSATp cable from behind the android’s left ear, allowing it whip back into the control array. From the same control array it retrieved a slotted wireless receiver, resembling a black flash memory device with an eSATp interface. It roughly jammed the receiver back behind the SM unit’s ear, where it rested, tucked in behind the ear as an accountant might tuck in a pen or a pencil.

With a series of electronic *''whirrs''*, the control array keyboard refolded itself and retracted back into the first gynobot, which then returned to life, standing up and straightening itself out. The second gynobot closed the flap covering its sister’s control array, pressing down on the velcro to ensure a proper seal. The first gynobot then deftly twirled about on one foot, presenting the front of its pantsuit for a cosmetic smoothing-down by its sister (as if it were being dusted off). When this was complete it mechanically reciprocated, oblivious to the fact that the other gynobot’s controls had not been accessed, nor its clothes rumpled.

The red-scarved Yasmeen, reaching inside her Gucci purse, pulled out what appeared to be a pair of unmarked spray-paint cans and handed one to each of the pantsuited gynobots, who immediately began readying them with a few swift shakes. The first gynobot pressed down on the SM android’s mole again, causing the patch of brown flesh to reseal itself with a *''whirr''*; as soon as it was closed, both gynobots began methodically spraying the motionless every inch of the android’s naked body, everywhere below the neck and above the wrists and ankles, with a glittery silver substance. The spray was not a paint but a sophisticated polymerized pseudo-latex that quickly adhered to itself to form an artificial bodysuit, skintight and filling every crevasse but legally acceptable as clothing. Within a few minutes the SM unit was dressed in her “uniform,” and ready to work.

The gynobots held out both cans, and the SM unit, now guided by the wireless signals from the two gynobots, held out its pink palms to receive them. The android set about spraying its fellow SM units in its cage, while the gynobots proceeded to the cage containing the BM units and resumed their work there.

The pink-scarved Yasmeen turned to Joyce, who had smilingly observed all of this activity without comment. “Well,” she said, “I think its time we finished the tour.”

-----

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 6.0|Previous part]] - '''Part VII''' - [[Merger 8.0|Next part]]

Merger 7.0

2012-09-30T17:36:01Z

Karel:

● ● ●

The front doors of the IRU Robotics building slid open at 6:00 am the next morning, and four female figures, resembling two pairs of identical twins, walked briskly inside.

The two in the centre were petite, pretty, swarthy-skinned, with sharp, angular facial features and prominent but attractive aquiline noses. They wore identical pairs of Luis Vuitton sunglasses, obscuring their electrifying green eyes, and identical Chanel skirt-suits. The only things that differentiated them were their loose silk scarves, which bore different floral designs, and which they wore billowing around folds of luxuriant black hair.

The one on the right, with the pink, poppy-patterned scarf, was Yasmeen bint-Jabri, née Dar, President of the Emirati Group and second wife of its Chairman, Sheikh Hossein bin Mohmed al-Jabr al-Zayed al-Ahmad.

The one on the left, with the scarf depicting a tiled maze of red lilies, was Bint-Jabri’s proxy: a custom-designed synthetic doppelgänger, cut to fit the diminutive CEO’s slender features as closely as the stylish but functional professional haute couture that both “women” wore. This one was here to become acquainted with her new home: the managerial style pioneered by her archetype had brought the real Bint-Jabri to the very cusp of the select Forbes list of self-made female billionaires, and “self-made” was something that Bint-Jabri took very seriously, having commissioned so many copies of herself over the years to “personally” oversee the dozens of companies she ran.

The other two figures, which flanked the pair of CEOs, were more representative of the kind of product that those companies actually produced. Resembling a couple of pretty, twenty-something Caucasoid North African girls, they were smartly but functionally kitted out in tightly-fitting black cosmetic hijab, with matching black pantsuits tightly stretched over small, perky breasts and pert, round buns. With their pale, nearly transluscent skin, blue eyes, and soft, bubblegum-pink lips, “cute” seemed the best word to describe these basic gynobots; but this morning they appeared programmed entirely for business.

Joyce materialized on cue in the front lobby. “Good morning!” she cheered, infectous enthusiasm inflected in her synthesized voice. “Welcome, Ms. Bint-Jabri! Congratulations on concluding the successful merger of IRU Robotics Incorporated and Emirati Group! On behalf of-”

The red-scarved Yasmeen cut the hologram off in mid sentence with a wave of her hand. “Have all of the new control protocols been installed?”

“All new control protocols are fully installed,” said Joyce, a subtle ripple passing through her holographic body. “The Emirati Group is presently the registered terminus of all local command pathways! All systems linked to my mainframe are fully at your disposal!” The projection stared at both Bint-Jabris, smiling like a kid showing off a straight “A” report card.

“Well then,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen, scrutinizing a tiny chip in her manicured nails, “Take us to see the inventory.”

“Of course!” said Joyce. “Right this way!”

Joyce turned around 180°, her holographic body rotating in place as if on top of a turntable, and began to glide toward the double doors behind the front desk, her thick legs hovering and motionless.

“Where are the support staff?” asked the red-scarved Yasmeen, the heels of her Manolo Blahniks clicking against the lobby’s ceramic floor as she followed close behind the hologram. The pink-scarved Yasmeen, walking past the unmanned reception desk, glanced a mound of plastic-wrapped bundles piled discreetly behind it.

The automatic double doors slid open ahead of Joyce, and the hologram glided through, leading the four females onto the showroom floor. Three showpiece models, barely visible from the lobby but now on full display to any customers welcomed inside, stood poised against a glass wall, frozen in mid-laugh: two BP8500s and an IL8002. Unlike the BP9000 series units, which were styled as composites incorporating a whole host of “ideal” physical features, BP8500s – in this case, a stylish, cocoa-coloured, Somalian-featured IB222 and a smooth, Sudanese-looking AW873 the colour of dark chocolate – were designed to more closely resemble specific celebrity models, although not so closely as to actually require the payment of licensing fees. The IL8002, though a slightly less sophisticated unit, was pure craftsmanship: a glorious red-headed beauty whose creamy, curvaceous body was covered in thousands of individually painted freckles.

Yasmeen crinkled her nose in distaste. Bint-Jabri had cut her teeth as a turnaround specialist, and IRU Robotics, by any measure, was in desperate need of a turnaround. The units posed in front of her were among the best that money could buy, but the company’s reputation for quality and craftsmanship went largely unnoticed as a result of the cheap, evasive calculations embodied in series like the BP8500, which had led industry commentators to deride IRU for producing “knockoffs.”

But easily the biggest source of woe had been previous management’s stubborn resistance to changing IRU’s niche brand. The company’s consistently misguided design decisions had given it traction only in a few tiny African markets, but had left it a middling player in the increasingly sclerotic markets of America, Brazil, and the European Federation; and it had next to no presence in Asia, where Emirati was now engaged in cutthroat competition with a number of aggressive Chinese, Korean, and Singaporean firms.

Bint-Jabri’s crack team of marketing specialists had, however, assured her that the problem was primarily aesthetic. Hence, the first managerial directive of the new merged entity: a general reboot of the brand.

“I’m sorry,” said the floating Joyce, her comic smile turning upside-down into a comic frown. “All discontinued series support staff have already been processed.”

“How many of the support staff were discontinued series?” asked the pink-scarved Yasmeen.

“Forty-one, out of forty-two total staff,” answered Joyce. She smiled again, oblivious to the fact that this answer, like the last one, was probably not what the women wanted to hear.

“Are you counting yourself?” asked the red-scarved Yasmeen.

“Oh no, of course not!” said Joyce, with an animated shake of her head. ““I’m certainly not staff! My mainframe is the registered property of the Emirati Group.” Her dimples dug in a little deeper. “I strive only to be the best possible corporate asset!”

The pink-scarved Yasmeen gestured back at the showroom models. “How many other luxury models like these are there on the premises?” she asked.

“At present, there are two BP9000 series units: unit number HB544, previously purposed main reception, and one, unit number NC657, previously purposed executive reception. Both have been fully processed.”

The red-scarved Yasmeen turned to one of the pantsuited gynobots. “Process these BP8500 units as well,” she said, and then, turning to the other Yasmeen, asked “Leave the IL8002 up, I think?”

“I think so,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen, nodding. The IL series was still supported. “For now.”

“Of course,” said the gynobot. Its voice was smooth and girlish. Both units instantly swung into action.

The pink-scarved Yasmeen turned to Joyce. “Well then,” she said, “take us to see the inventory.”

● ● ●

“This IRU facility is the primary transit hub for female product throughout Eastern North America, shipping and handling series designations AA through ZS,” said Joyce, her projected body skimming above the pocked concrete floor of the caverous warehouse. Thousands of naked androids filled the space, standing in rows or piled up like cordwood, lying prone on or propped up against the stacks of pallets, some wrapped in plastic, most not. A fine layer of dust lay sprinkled over hundreds of bare breasts, open palms, and fluffy Afros. “Male product is routed through Transit Centre No. 3, five-point-two miles southeast of this location,” said Joyce.

“Yes, we’re headed there this afternoon,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen. “Have the designated luxury series units been sent there already?”

“Yes,” said Joyce, “All except the five previously mentioned.”

Transit Centre No. 3 was equipped with an entire suite of cleanrooms. “Are there any cleanroom facilities at this location?” asked the pink-scarved Yasmeen, brushing some dust off of her left shoulderpad.

“There is one cleanroom,” said Joyce. “It has never been utilized.”

“That should be fine,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen. One cleanroom was probably sufficient for five androids. It had been decided that it was more economical to harvest the high quality components from the remaining luxury units for use in other lines rather than risk being forced to sell the units at a discount.

The red-scarved Yasmeen stopped in front of a cage containing about three dozen androids with shiny, straightened hair, thick, glossy lips, and wide, fleshy thighs. The identical frozen faces, staring out with glassy, sightless eyes, were the sort of handsome visages one might expect to see at a reasonably priced nightclub in Bed-Stuy or D.C. “What series are these?” asked the robot Yasmeen.

The Joyce hologram rotated to face the cage, as if its projected eyes needed to be pointed at the inventory contained inside to identify it. “Those units are: designation; SM1001, 1002, and 1002(b),” said Joyce, her body rippling again. “Primary purposing: hospital care, domicilial care, intermediate care, palliative care, custodial and janitorial service, domestic service, food service, and security services (administrative). Secondary sectors of operation: sexual services. Secondary sectors of operation: sexual services. Primary markets: the United States, the United Kingdom, Brazil.”

“This is still a supported series, right?” asked the red-scarved Yasmeen, though she was already programmed with the answer.

The pink-scarved Yasmeen nodded. “Yes,” she said, ignoring Joyce’s identical response to the question. A few of the old models were being kept on for existing customers, and the SM series units were still profitable as basic utility models, serving slop in institutional cafeterias and cleaning up after wizened dementia patients. “We can use those. What are these?”

The pink-scarved Yasmeen pointed to another cage behind her, filled with slightly more slender, less dark-skinned units. These model, like the SMs, also sported outsized asses and thighs, but harmonized with figures that were more shapely, athletic, and evenly proportioned. Their bountiful hair was coiled in thin curls, which on a few of the units were dyed varying shades of peroxide blond. One or two also wore cosmetic pairs of thick-framed glasses. Their pretty if unpolished faces, with skin a shade lighter than the SM units, resembled those of sorority sisters at FAMU or Tuskegee. One, obviously a fetish model, showed off a slightly distended belly.

Again, Joyce rotated around to face the other Yasmeen, a ripple passing through her projected holographic body. “Those units are: designation; BM2000, 2100, 2101(B),” she said. “Primary purposing: domestic service, secretarial services, hospital care, domicilial care, child care, and sexual services. Secondary sectors of operation: sexual services, marketing. Primary markets: the United States, the United Kingdom, Brazil, France.”

The red-scarved Yasmeen nodded. The BMs were another supported series, though they were being downgraded: they were now to be marketed as a simple alternative to the SM units, to the same utility customers, vacating prime sectors like child and domestic care to make way for established Emirati product. “Open these gates, will you?” said the robot Bint-Jabri.

“Of course!” said Joyce, and the electronic latches of the cage doors *''buzzed''* and released.

The gynobots had noiselessly rejoined the group, having finished packing up the units in the showroom; now they walked over to the first SM unit inside the cage. One of the gynobots, positioning itself behind the unit, traced a single pink-capped index finger down its lacquered back, stopping at a discreet mole placed just down and to the left of its right scapula. It pressed down on the mole, and the dark square rectangle of flesh on which it rested popped up and twisted away from the LCD control panel with a *''beep''*.

The second gynobot, meanwhile, peeled up a somewhat larger flap of fabric, lined with velcro, from its sister’s back, to reveal a full array of controls, including a small screen, a basic keyboard, and two spools of cable, one eSATp and one HP-IB . Everything beneath the surface of the pantsuit appeared entirely artificial, with no trace of synthetic flesh. The second gynobot swiftly drew out a length of eSATp cable and plugged it into the receptive slot behind the SM units right ear; as it did so the first gynobot emitted a loud *''buzz''*, then contorted itself into a severely angled position, as if offering its back as a writing desk. The small keyboard embedded in its backside raised up and folded out, to reveal a full QWERTY layoit.

The SM unit emitted a *''beep''*, blinked, and canted its head. “Hello,” it said, its voice a rich contralto. “This unit: designation; S. M. 1. 0. 0. 1... S. J. Unit number; 1. 1. 1.”

The red-scarved Yasmeen wrinkled her nose at the sound of the android. “Open language settings,” she said, walking up behind the first gynobot. The second gynobot robot quickly tapped a few of the keys on its sister’s back to bring up the list of installed options. Sure enough, the SM unit’s default was the first to appear alphabetically: “African American Vernacular English,” or “AAVE.”

“Let’s change that, shall we?” said the red-scarved Yasmeen.

'''AFRICAN AMERICAN VERNACULAR ENGLISH'''

''AFRIKAANS''

''AMERICAN STANDARD ENGLISH''

''AMERICAN STANDARD SOUTHERN ENGLISH''

''AMHARIC''

''ARABIC, STANDARD''

''BAJAN''

''BERBER, STANDARD''

''BRITISH BAJAN''

''BRITISH ENGLISH, MLE''

'''*BRITISH ENGLISH, RP*'''

''BRITISH JAMAICAN ENGLISH''

''BRITISH NIGERIAN ENGLISH''

''FRENCH, SENEGAL''

''FRENCH, STANDARD''

''GERMAN, STANDARD''

''ITALIAN, STANDARD''

''JAMAICAN ENGLISH''

''PORTUGUESE, BRAZILIAN''

''SPANISH, AMERICAN STANDARD''

''SPANISH, EUROPEAN STANDARD''

“Language settings altered,” said the SM unit, its dulcet tones now perfectly clipped to the standard of the BBC World Service. “New default: British English, Received Pronunciation. Thank you.” The android’s face was impassive but expressionless, its deep voice soothing but devoid of emotion.

“Much better,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen. “Have them set that as the default for all of the units.” The other Yasmeen nodded as the second gynobot, already accepting the order, keyed in the appropriate commands.

“Control settings accessed,” said the SM android. “Wireless options accessed. Wireless command accepted. Please install wireless receiver now.”

The second gynobot unclipped the eSATp cable from behind the android’s left ear, allowing it whip back into the control array. From the same control array it retrieved a slotted wireless receiver, resembling a black flash memory device with an eSATp interface. It roughly jammed the receiver back behind the SM unit’s ear, where it rested, tucked in behind the ear as an accountant might tuck in a pen or a pencil.

With a series of electronic *''whirrs''*, the control array keyboard refolded itself and retracted back into the first gynobot, which then returned to life, standing up and straightening itself out. The second gynobot closed the flap covering its sister’s control array, pressing down on the velcro to ensure a proper seal. The first gynobot then deftly twirled about on one foot, presenting the front of its pantsuit for a cosmetic smoothing-down by its sister (as if it were being dusted off). When this was complete it mechanically reciprocated, oblivious to the fact that the other gynobot’s controls had not been accessed, nor its clothes rumpled.

The red-scarved Yasmeen, reaching inside her Gucci purse, pulled out what appeared to be a pair of unmarked spray-paint cans and handed one to each of the pantsuited gynobots, who immediately began readying them with a few swift shakes. The first gynobot pressed down on the SM android’s mole again, causing the patch of brown flesh to reseal itself with a *''whirr''*; as soon as it was closed, both gynobots began methodically spraying the motionless every inch of the android’s naked body, everywhere below the neck and above the wrists and ankles, with a glittery silver substance. The spray was not a paint but a sophisticated polymerized pseudo-latex that quickly adhered to itself to form an artificial bodysuit, skintight and filling every crevasse but legally acceptable as clothing. Within a few minutes the SM unit was dressed in her “uniform,” and ready to work.

The gynobots held out both cans, and the SM unit, now guided by the wireless signals from the two gynobots, held out its pink palms to receive them. The android set about spraying its fellow SM units in its cage, while the gynobots proceeded to the cage containing the BM units and resumed their work there.

The pink-scarved Yasmeen turned to Joyce, who had smilingly observed all of this activity without comment. “Well,” she said, “I think its time we finished the tour.”

Merger 7.0

2012-09-30T17:35:21Z

Karel:

● ● ●

The front doors of the IRU Robotics building slid open at 6:00 am the next morning, and four female figures, resembling two pairs of identical twins, walked briskly inside.

The two in the centre were petite, pretty, swarthy-skinned, with sharp, angular facial features and prominent but attractive aquiline noses. They wore identical pairs of Luis Vuitton sunglasses, obscuring their electrifying green eyes, and identical Chanel skirt-suits. The only things that differentiated them were their loose silk scarves, which bore different floral designs, and which they wore billowing around folds of luxuriant black hair.

The one on the right, with the pink, poppy-patterned scarf, was Yasmeen bint-Jabri, née Dar, President of the Emirati Group and second wife of its Chairman, Sheikh Hossein bin Mohmed al-Jabr al-Zayed al-Ahmad.

The one on the left, with the scarf depicting a tiled maze of red lilies, was Bint-Jabri’s proxy: a custom-designed synthetic doppelgänger, cut to fit the diminutive CEO’s slender features as closely as the stylish but functional professional haute couture that both “women” wore. This one was here to become acquainted with her new home: the managerial style pioneered by her archetype had brought the real Bint-Jabri to the very cusp of the select Forbes list of self-made female billionaires, and “self-made” was something that Bint-Jabri took very seriously, having commissioned so many copies of herself over the years to “personally” oversee the dozens of companies she ran.

The other two figures, which flanked the pair of CEOs, were more representative of the kind of product that those companies actually produced. Resembling a couple of pretty, twenty-something Caucasoid North African girls, they were smartly but functionally kitted out in tightly-fitting black cosmetic hijab, with matching black pantsuits tightly stretched over small, perky breasts and pert, round buns. With their pale, nearly transluscent skin, blue eyes, and soft, bubblegum-pink lips, “cute” seemed the best word to describe these basic gynobots; but this morning they appeared programmed entirely for business.

Joyce materialized on cue in the front lobby. “Good morning!” she cheered, infectous enthusiasm inflected in her synthesized voice. “Welcome, Ms. Bint-Jabri! Congratulations on concluding the successful merger of IRU Robotics Incorporated and Emirati Group! On behalf of-”

The red-scarved Yasmeen cut the hologram off in mid sentence with a wave of her hand. “Have all of the new control protocols been installed?”

“All new control protocols are fully installed,” said Joyce, a subtle ripple passing through her holographic body. “The Emirati Group is presently the registered terminus of all local command pathways! All systems linked to my mainframe are fully at your disposal!” The projection stared at both Bint-Jabris, smiling like a kid showing off a straight “A” report card.

“Well then,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen, scrutinizing a tiny chip in her manicured nails, “Take us to see the inventory.”

“Of course!” said Joyce. “Right this way!”

Joyce turned around 180°, her holographic body rotating in place as if on top of a turntable, and began to glide toward the double doors behind the front desk, her thick legs hovering and motionless.

“Where are the support staff?” asked the red-scarved Yasmeen, the heels of her Manolo Blahniks clicking against the lobby’s ceramic floor as she followed close behind the hologram. The pink-scarved Yasmeen, walking past the unmanned reception desk, glanced a mound of plastic-wrapped bundles piled discreetly behind it.

The automatic double doors slid open ahead of Joyce, and the hologram glided through, leading the four females onto the showroom floor. Three showpiece models, barely visible from the lobby but now on full display to any customers welcomed inside, stood poised against a glass wall, frozen in mid-laugh: two BP8500s and an IL8002. Unlike the BP9000 series units, which were styled as composites incorporating a whole host of “ideal” physical features, BP8500s – in this case, a stylish, cocoa-coloured, Somalian-featured IB222 and a smooth, Sudanese-looking AW873 the colour of dark chocolate – were designed to more closely resemble specific celebrity models, although not so closely as to actually require the payment of licensing fees. The IL8002, though a slightly less sophisticated unit, was pure craftsmanship: a glorious red-headed beauty whose creamy, curvaceous body was covered in thousands of individually painted freckles.

Yasmeen crinkled her nose in distaste. Bint-Jabri had cut her teeth as a turnaround specialist, and IRU Robotics, by any measure, was in desperate need of a turnaround. The units posed in front of her were among the best that money could buy, but the company’s reputation for quality and craftsmanship went largely unnoticed as a result of the cheap, evasive calculations embodied in series like the BP8500, which had led industry commentators to deride IRU for producing “knockoffs.”

But easily the biggest source of woe had been previous management’s stubborn resistance to changing IRU’s niche brand. The company’s consistently misguided design decisions had given it traction only in a few tiny African markets, but had left it a middling player in the increasingly sclerotic markets of America, Brazil, and the European Federation; and it had next to no presence in Asia, where Emirati was now engaged in cutthroat competition with a number of aggressive Chinese, Korean, and Singaporean firms.

Bint-Jabri’s crack team of marketing specialists had, however, assured her that the problem was primarily aesthetic. Hence, the first managerial directive of the new merged entity: a general reboot of the brand.

“I’m sorry,” said the floating Joyce, her comic smile turning upside-down into a comic frown. “All discontinued series support staff have already been processed.”

“How many of the support staff were discontinued series?” asked the pink-scarved Yasmeen.

“Forty-one, out of forty-two total staff,” answered Joyce. She smiled again, oblivious to the fact that this answer, like the last one, was probably not what the women wanted to hear.

“Are you counting yourself?” asked the red-scarved Yasmeen.

“Oh no, of course not!” said Joyce, with an animated shake of her head. ““I’m certainly not staff! My mainframe is the registered property of the Emirati Group.” Her dimples dug in a little deeper. “I strive only to be the best possible corporate asset!”

The pink-scarved Yasmeen gestured back at the showroom models. “How many other luxury models like these are there on the premises?” she asked.

“At present, there are two BP9000 series units: unit number HB544, previously purposed main reception, and one, unit number NC657, previously purposed executive reception. Both have been fully processed.”

The red-scarved Yasmeen turned to one of the pantsuited gynobots. “Process these BP8500 units as well,” she said, and then, turning to the other Yasmeen, asked “Leave the IL8002 up, I think?”

“I think so,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen, nodding. The IL series was still supported. “For now.”

“Of course,” said the gynobot. Its voice was smooth and girlish. Both units instantly swung into action.

The pink-scarved Yasmeen turned to Joyce. “Well then,” she said, “take us to see the inventory.”

● ● ●

“This IRU facility is the primary transit hub for female product throughout Eastern North America, shipping and handling series designations AA through ZS,” said Joyce, her projected body skimming above the pocked concrete floor of the caverous warehouse. Thousands of naked androids filled the space, standing in rows or piled up like cordwood, lying prone on or propped up against the stacks of pallets, some wrapped in plastic, most not. A fine layer of dust lay sprinkled over hundreds of bare breasts, open palms, and fluffy Afros. “Male product is routed through Transit Centre No. 3, five-point-two miles southeast of this location,” said Joyce.

“Yes, we’re headed there this afternoon,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen. “Have the designated luxury series units been sent there already?”

“Yes,” said Joyce, “All except the five previously mentioned.”

Transit Centre No. 3 was equipped with an entire suite of cleanrooms. “Are there any cleanroom facilities at this location?” asked the pink-scarved Yasmeen, brushing some dust off of her left shoulderpad.

“There is one cleanroom,” said Joyce. “It has never been utilized.”

“That should be fine,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen. One cleanroom was probably sufficient for five androids. It had been decided that it was more economical to harvest the high quality components from the remaining luxury units for use in other lines rather than risk being forced to sell the units at a discount.

The red-scarved Yasmeen stopped in front of a cage containing about three dozen androids with shiny, straightened hair, thick, glossy lips, and wide, fleshy thighs. The identical frozen faces, staring out with glassy, sightless eyes, were the sort of handsome visages one might expect to see at a reasonably priced nightclub in Bed-Stuy or D.C. “What series are these?” asked the robot Yasmeen.

The Joyce hologram rotated to face the cage, as if its projected eyes needed to be pointed at the inventory contained inside to identify it. “Those units are: designation; SM1001, 1002, and 1002(b),” said Joyce, her body rippling again. “Primary purposing: hospital care, domicilial care, intermediate care, palliative care, custodial and janitorial service, domestic service, food service, and security services (administrative). Secondary sectors of operation: sexual services. Secondary sectors of operation: sexual services. Primary markets: the United States, the United Kingdom, Brazil.”

“This is still a supported series, right?” asked the red-scarved Yasmeen, though she was already programmed with the answer.

The pink-scarved Yasmeen nodded. “Yes,” she said, ignoring Joyce’s identical response to the question. A few of the old models were being kept on for existing customers, and the SM series units were still profitable as basic utility models, serving slop in institutional cafeterias and cleaning up after wizened dementia patients. “We can use those. What are these?”

The pink-scarved Yasmeen pointed to another cage behind her, filled with slightly more slender, less dark-skinned units. These model, like the SMs, also sported outsized asses and thighs, but harmonized with figures that were more shapely, athletic, and evenly proportioned. Their bountiful hair was coiled in thin curls, which on a few of the units were dyed varying shades of peroxide blond. One or two also wore cosmetic pairs of thick-framed glasses. Their pretty if unpolished faces, with skin a shade lighter than the SM units, resembled those of sorority sisters at FAMU or Tuskegee. One, obviously a fetish model, showed off a slightly distended belly.

Again, Joyce rotated around to face the other Yasmeen, a ripple passing through her projected holographic body. “Those units are: designation; BM2000, 2100, 2101(B),” she said. “Primary purposing: domestic service, secretarial services, hospital care, domicilial care, child care, and sexual services. Secondary sectors of operation: sexual services, marketing. Primary markets: the United States, the United Kingdom, Brazil, France.”

The red-scarved Yasmeen nodded. The BMs were another supported series, though they were being downgraded: they were now to be marketed as a simple alternative to the SM units, to the same utility customers, vacating prime sectors like child and domestic care to make way for established Emirati product. “Open these gates, will you?” said the robot Bint-Jabri.

“Of course!” said Joyce, and the electronic latches of the cage doors *''buzzed''* and released.

The gynobots had noiselessly rejoined the group, having finished packing up the units in the showroom; now they walked over to the first SM unit inside the cage. One of the gynobots, positioning itself behind the unit, traced a single pink-capped index finger down its lacquered back, stopping at a discreet mole placed just down and to the left of its right scapula. It pressed down on the mole, and the dark square rectangle of flesh on which it rested popped up and twisted away from the LCD control panel with a *''beep''*.

The second gynobot, meanwhile, peeled up a somewhat larger flap of fabric, lined with velcro, from its sister’s back, to reveal a full array of controls, including a small screen, a basic keyboard, and two spools of cable, one eSATp and one HP-IB . Everything beneath the surface of the pantsuit appeared entirely artificial, with no trace of synthetic flesh. The second gynobot swiftly drew out a length of eSATp cable and plugged it into the receptive slot behind the SM units right ear; as it did so the first gynobot emitted a loud *''buzz''*, then contorted itself into a severely angled position, as if offering its back as a writing desk. The small keyboard embedded in its backside raised up and folded out, to reveal a full QWERTY layoit.

The SM unit emitted a *''beep''*, blinked, and canted its head. “Hello,” it said, its voice a rich contralto. “This unit: designation; S. M. 1. 0. 0. 1... S. J. Unit number; 1. 1. 1.”

The red-scarved Yasmeen wrinkled her nose at the sound of the android. “Open language settings,” she said, walking up behind the first gynobot. The second gynobot robot quickly tapped a few of the keys on its sister’s back to bring up the list of installed options. Sure enough, the SM unit’s default was the first to appear alphabetically: “African American Vernacular English,” or “AAVE.”

“Let’s change that, shall we?” said the red-scarved Yasmeen.

'''AFRICAN AMERICAN VERNACULAR ENGLISH'''

''AFRIKAANS''

''AMERICAN STANDARD ENGLISH''

''AMERICAN STANDARD SOUTHERN ENGLISH''

''AMHARIC''

''ARABIC, STANDARD''

''BAJAN''

''BERBER, STANDARD''

''BRITISH BAJAN''BRITISH ENGLISH, MLE

'''*BRITISH ENGLISH, RP*'''

''BRITISH JAMAICAN ENGLISH''''BRITISH NIGERIAN ENGLISH''

''FRENCH, SENEGAL''

''FRENCH, STANDARD''

''GERMAN, STANDARD''

''ITALIAN, STANDARD''

''JAMAICAN ENGLISH''

''PORTUGUESE, BRAZILIAN''

''SPANISH, AMERICAN STANDARD''

''SPANISH, EUROPEAN STANDARD''

“Language settings altered,” said the SM unit, its dulcet tones now perfectly clipped to the standard of the BBC World Service. “New default: British English, Received Pronunciation. Thank you.” The android’s face was impassive but expressionless, its deep voice soothing but devoid of emotion.

“Much better,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen. “Have them set that as the default for all of the units.” The other Yasmeen nodded as the second gynobot, already accepting the order, keyed in the appropriate commands.

“Control settings accessed,” said the SM android. “Wireless options accessed. Wireless command accepted. Please install wireless receiver now.”

The second gynobot unclipped the eSATp cable from behind the android’s left ear, allowing it whip back into the control array. From the same control array it retrieved a slotted wireless receiver, resembling a black flash memory device with an eSATp interface. It roughly jammed the receiver back behind the SM unit’s ear, where it rested, tucked in behind the ear as an accountant might tuck in a pen or a pencil.

With a series of electronic *''whirrs''*, the control array keyboard refolded itself and retracted back into the first gynobot, which then returned to life, standing up and straightening itself out. The second gynobot closed the flap covering its sister’s control array, pressing down on the velcro to ensure a proper seal. The first gynobot then deftly twirled about on one foot, presenting the front of its pantsuit for a cosmetic smoothing-down by its sister (as if it were being dusted off). When this was complete it mechanically reciprocated, oblivious to the fact that the other gynobot’s controls had not been accessed, nor its clothes rumpled.

The red-scarved Yasmeen, reaching inside her Gucci purse, pulled out what appeared to be a pair of unmarked spray-paint cans and handed one to each of the pantsuited gynobots, who immediately began readying them with a few swift shakes. The first gynobot pressed down on the SM android’s mole again, causing the patch of brown flesh to reseal itself with a *''whirr''*; as soon as it was closed, both gynobots began methodically spraying the motionless every inch of the android’s naked body, everywhere below the neck and above the wrists and ankles, with a glittery silver substance. The spray was not a paint but a sophisticated polymerized pseudo-latex that quickly adhered to itself to form an artificial bodysuit, skintight and filling every crevasse but legally acceptable as clothing. Within a few minutes the SM unit was dressed in her “uniform,” and ready to work.

The gynobots held out both cans, and the SM unit, now guided by the wireless signals from the two gynobots, held out its pink palms to receive them. The android set about spraying its fellow SM units in its cage, while the gynobots proceeded to the cage containing the BM units and resumed their work there.

The pink-scarved Yasmeen turned to Joyce, who had smilingly observed all of this activity without comment. “Well,” she said, “I think its time we finished the tour.”

Merger 7.0

2012-09-30T17:34:49Z

Karel:

● ● ●

The front doors of the IRU Robotics building slid open at 6:00 am the next morning, and four female figures, resembling two pairs of identical twins, walked briskly inside.

The two in the centre were petite, pretty, swarthy-skinned, with sharp, angular facial features and prominent but attractive aquiline noses. They wore identical pairs of Luis Vuitton sunglasses, obscuring their electrifying green eyes, and identical Chanel skirt-suits. The only things that differentiated them were their loose silk scarves, which bore different floral designs, and which they wore billowing around folds of luxuriant black hair.

The one on the right, with the pink, poppy-patterned scarf, was Yasmeen bint-Jabri, née Dar, President of the Emirati Group and second wife of its Chairman, Sheikh Hossein bin Mohmed al-Jabr al-Zayed al-Ahmad.

The one on the left, with the scarf depicting a tiled maze of red lilies, was Bint-Jabri’s proxy: a custom-designed synthetic doppelgänger, cut to fit the diminutive CEO’s slender features as closely as the stylish but functional professional haute couture that both “women” wore. This one was here to become acquainted with her new home: the managerial style pioneered by her archetype had brought the real Bint-Jabri to the very cusp of the select Forbes list of self-made female billionaires, and “self-made” was something that Bint-Jabri took very seriously, having commissioned so many copies of herself over the years to “personally” oversee the dozens of companies she ran.

The other two figures, which flanked the pair of CEOs, were more representative of the kind of product that those companies actually produced. Resembling a couple of pretty, twenty-something Caucasoid North African girls, they were smartly but functionally kitted out in tightly-fitting black cosmetic hijab, with matching black pantsuits tightly stretched over small, perky breasts and pert, round buns. With their pale, nearly transluscent skin, blue eyes, and soft, bubblegum-pink lips, “cute” seemed the best word to describe these basic gynobots; but this morning they appeared programmed entirely for business.

Joyce materialized on cue in the front lobby. “Good morning!” she cheered, infectous enthusiasm inflected in her synthesized voice. “Welcome, Ms. Bint-Jabri! Congratulations on concluding the successful merger of IRU Robotics Incorporated and Emirati Group! On behalf of-”

The red-scarved Yasmeen cut the hologram off in mid sentence with a wave of her hand. “Have all of the new control protocols been installed?”

“All new control protocols are fully installed,” said Joyce, a subtle ripple passing through her holographic body. “The Emirati Group is presently the registered terminus of all local command pathways! All systems linked to my mainframe are fully at your disposal!” The projection stared at both Bint-Jabris, smiling like a kid showing off a straight “A” report card.

“Well then,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen, scrutinizing a tiny chip in her manicured nails, “Take us to see the inventory.”

“Of course!” said Joyce. “Right this way!”

Joyce turned around 180°, her holographic body rotating in place as if on top of a turntable, and began to glide toward the double doors behind the front desk, her thick legs hovering and motionless.

“Where are the support staff?” asked the red-scarved Yasmeen, the heels of her Manolo Blahniks clicking against the lobby’s ceramic floor as she followed close behind the hologram. The pink-scarved Yasmeen, walking past the unmanned reception desk, glanced a mound of plastic-wrapped bundles piled discreetly behind it.

The automatic double doors slid open ahead of Joyce, and the hologram glided through, leading the four females onto the showroom floor. Three showpiece models, barely visible from the lobby but now on full display to any customers welcomed inside, stood poised against a glass wall, frozen in mid-laugh: two BP8500s and an IL8002. Unlike the BP9000 series units, which were styled as composites incorporating a whole host of “ideal” physical features, BP8500s – in this case, a stylish, cocoa-coloured, Somalian-featured IB222 and a smooth, Sudanese-looking AW873 the colour of dark chocolate – were designed to more closely resemble specific celebrity models, although not so closely as to actually require the payment of licensing fees. The IL8002, though a slightly less sophisticated unit, was pure craftsmanship: a glorious red-headed beauty whose creamy, curvaceous body was covered in thousands of individually painted freckles.

Yasmeen crinkled her nose in distaste. Bint-Jabri had cut her teeth as a turnaround specialist, and IRU Robotics, by any measure, was in desperate need of a turnaround. The units posed in front of her were among the best that money could buy, but the company’s reputation for quality and craftsmanship went largely unnoticed as a result of the cheap, evasive calculations embodied in series like the BP8500, which had led industry commentators to deride IRU for producing “knockoffs.”

But easily the biggest source of woe had been previous management’s stubborn resistance to changing IRU’s niche brand. The company’s consistently misguided design decisions had given it traction only in a few tiny African markets, but had left it a middling player in the increasingly sclerotic markets of America, Brazil, and the European Federation; and it had next to no presence in Asia, where Emirati was now engaged in cutthroat competition with a number of aggressive Chinese, Korean, and Singaporean firms.

Bint-Jabri’s crack team of marketing specialists had, however, assured her that the problem was primarily aesthetic. Hence, the first managerial directive of the new merged entity: a general reboot of the brand.

“I’m sorry,” said the floating Joyce, her comic smile turning upside-down into a comic frown. “All discontinued series support staff have already been processed.”

“How many of the support staff were discontinued series?” asked the pink-scarved Yasmeen.

“Forty-one, out of forty-two total staff,” answered Joyce. She smiled again, oblivious to the fact that this answer, like the last one, was probably not what the women wanted to hear.

“Are you counting yourself?” asked the red-scarved Yasmeen.

“Oh no, of course not!” said Joyce, with an animated shake of her head. ““I’m certainly not staff! My mainframe is the registered property of the Emirati Group.” Her dimples dug in a little deeper. “I strive only to be the best possible corporate asset!”

The pink-scarved Yasmeen gestured back at the showroom models. “How many other luxury models like these are there on the premises?” she asked.

“At present, there are two BP9000 series units: unit number HB544, previously purposed main reception, and one, unit number NC657, previously purposed executive reception. Both have been fully processed.”

The red-scarved Yasmeen turned to one of the pantsuited gynobots. “Process these BP8500 units as well,” she said, and then, turning to the other Yasmeen, asked “Leave the IL8002 up, I think?”

“I think so,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen, nodding. The IL series was still supported. “For now.”

“Of course,” said the gynobot. Its voice was smooth and girlish. Both units instantly swung into action.

The pink-scarved Yasmeen turned to Joyce. “Well then,” she said, “take us to see the inventory.”

● ● ●

“This IRU facility is the primary transit hub for female product throughout Eastern North America, shipping and handling series designations AA through ZS,” said Joyce, her projected body skimming above the pocked concrete floor of the caverous warehouse. Thousands of naked androids filled the space, standing in rows or piled up like cordwood, lying prone on or propped up against the stacks of pallets, some wrapped in plastic, most not. A fine layer of dust lay sprinkled over hundreds of bare breasts, open palms, and fluffy Afros. “Male product is routed through Transit Centre No. 3, five-point-two miles southeast of this location,” said Joyce.

“Yes, we’re headed there this afternoon,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen. “Have the designated luxury series units been sent there already?”

“Yes,” said Joyce, “All except the five previously mentioned.”

Transit Centre No. 3 was equipped with an entire suite of cleanrooms. “Are there any cleanroom facilities at this location?” asked the pink-scarved Yasmeen, brushing some dust off of her left shoulderpad.

“There is one cleanroom,” said Joyce. “It has never been utilized.”

“That should be fine,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen. One cleanroom was probably sufficient for five androids. It had been decided that it was more economical to harvest the high quality components from the remaining luxury units for use in other lines rather than risk being forced to sell the units at a discount.

The red-scarved Yasmeen stopped in front of a cage containing about three dozen androids with shiny, straightened hair, thick, glossy lips, and wide, fleshy thighs. The identical frozen faces, staring out with glassy, sightless eyes, were the sort of handsome visages one might expect to see at a reasonably priced nightclub in Bed-Stuy or D.C. “What series are these?” asked the robot Yasmeen.

The Joyce hologram rotated to face the cage, as if its projected eyes needed to be pointed at the inventory contained inside to identify it. “Those units are: designation; SM1001, 1002, and 1002(b),” said Joyce, her body rippling again. “Primary purposing: hospital care, domicilial care, intermediate care, palliative care, custodial and janitorial service, domestic service, food service, and security services (administrative). Secondary sectors of operation: sexual services. Secondary sectors of operation: sexual services. Primary markets: the United States, the United Kingdom, Brazil.”

“This is still a supported series, right?” asked the red-scarved Yasmeen, though she was already programmed with the answer.

The pink-scarved Yasmeen nodded. “Yes,” she said, ignoring Joyce’s identical response to the question. A few of the old models were being kept on for existing customers, and the SM series units were still profitable as basic utility models, serving slop in institutional cafeterias and cleaning up after wizened dementia patients. “We can use those. What are these?”

The pink-scarved Yasmeen pointed to another cage behind her, filled with slightly more slender, less dark-skinned units. These model, like the SMs, also sported outsized asses and thighs, but harmonized with figures that were more shapely, athletic, and evenly proportioned. Their bountiful hair was coiled in thin curls, which on a few of the units were dyed varying shades of peroxide blond. One or two also wore cosmetic pairs of thick-framed glasses. Their pretty if unpolished faces, with skin a shade lighter than the SM units, resembled those of sorority sisters at FAMU or Tuskegee. One, obviously a fetish model, showed off a slightly distended belly.

Again, Joyce rotated around to face the other Yasmeen, a ripple passing through her projected holographic body. “Those units are: designation; BM2000, 2100, 2101(B),” she said. “Primary purposing: domestic service, secretarial services, hospital care, domicilial care, child care, and sexual services. Secondary sectors of operation: sexual services, marketing. Primary markets: the United States, the United Kingdom, Brazil, France.”

The red-scarved Yasmeen nodded. The BMs were another supported series, though they were being downgraded: they were now to be marketed as a simple alternative to the SM units, to the same utility customers, vacating prime sectors like child and domestic care to make way for established Emirati product. “Open these gates, will you?” said the robot Bint-Jabri.

“Of course!” said Joyce, and the electronic latches of the cage doors *''buzzed''* and released.

The gynobots had noiselessly rejoined the group, having finished packing up the units in the showroom; now they walked over to the first SM unit inside the cage. One of the gynobots, positioning itself behind the unit, traced a single pink-capped index finger down its lacquered back, stopping at a discreet mole placed just down and to the left of its right scapula. It pressed down on the mole, and the dark square rectangle of flesh on which it rested popped up and twisted away from the LCD control panel with a *''beep''*.

The second gynobot, meanwhile, peeled up a somewhat larger flap of fabric, lined with velcro, from its sister’s back, to reveal a full array of controls, including a small screen, a basic keyboard, and two spools of cable, one eSATp and one HP-IB . Everything beneath the surface of the pantsuit appeared entirely artificial, with no trace of synthetic flesh. The second gynobot swiftly drew out a length of eSATp cable and plugged it into the receptive slot behind the SM units right ear; as it did so the first gynobot emitted a loud *''buzz''*, then contorted itself into a severely angled position, as if offering its back as a writing desk. The small keyboard embedded in its backside raised up and folded out, to reveal a full QWERTY layoit.

The SM unit emitted a *''beep''*, blinked, and canted its head. “Hello,” it said, its voice a rich contralto. “This unit: designation; S. M. 1. 0. 0. 1... S. J. Unit number; 1. 1. 1.”

The red-scarved Yasmeen wrinkled her nose at the sound of the android. “Open language settings,” she said, walking up behind the first gynobot. The second gynobot robot quickly tapped a few of the keys on its sister’s back to bring up the list of installed options. Sure enough, the SM unit’s default was the first to appear alphabetically: “African American Vernacular English,” or “AAVE.”

“Let’s change that, shall we?” said the red-scarved Yasmeen.

'''AFRICAN AMERICAN VERNACULAR ENGLISH'''
''AFRIKAANS''
''AMERICAN STANDARD ENGLISH''
''AMERICAN STANDARD SOUTHERN ENGLISH''
''AMHARIC''
''ARABIC, STANDARD''
''BAJAN''
''BERBER, STANDARD''
''BRITISH BAJAN''BRITISH ENGLISH, MLE
'''*BRITISH ENGLISH, RP*'''
''BRITISH JAMAICAN ENGLISH''''BRITISH NIGERIAN ENGLISH''
''FRENCH, SENEGAL''
''FRENCH, STANDARD''
''GERMAN, STANDARD''
''ITALIAN, STANDARD''
''JAMAICAN ENGLISH''
''PORTUGUESE, BRAZILIAN''
''SPANISH, AMERICAN STANDARD''
''SPANISH, EUROPEAN STANDARD''

“Language settings altered,” said the SM unit, its dulcet tones now perfectly clipped to the standard of the BBC World Service. “New default: British English, Received Pronunciation. Thank you.” The android’s face was impassive but expressionless, its deep voice soothing but devoid of emotion.

“Much better,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen. “Have them set that as the default for all of the units.” The other Yasmeen nodded as the second gynobot, already accepting the order, keyed in the appropriate commands.

“Control settings accessed,” said the SM android. “Wireless options accessed. Wireless command accepted. Please install wireless receiver now.”

The second gynobot unclipped the eSATp cable from behind the android’s left ear, allowing it whip back into the control array. From the same control array it retrieved a slotted wireless receiver, resembling a black flash memory device with an eSATp interface. It roughly jammed the receiver back behind the SM unit’s ear, where it rested, tucked in behind the ear as an accountant might tuck in a pen or a pencil.

With a series of electronic *''whirrs''*, the control array keyboard refolded itself and retracted back into the first gynobot, which then returned to life, standing up and straightening itself out. The second gynobot closed the flap covering its sister’s control array, pressing down on the velcro to ensure a proper seal. The first gynobot then deftly twirled about on one foot, presenting the front of its pantsuit for a cosmetic smoothing-down by its sister (as if it were being dusted off). When this was complete it mechanically reciprocated, oblivious to the fact that the other gynobot’s controls had not been accessed, nor its clothes rumpled.

The red-scarved Yasmeen, reaching inside her Gucci purse, pulled out what appeared to be a pair of unmarked spray-paint cans and handed one to each of the pantsuited gynobots, who immediately began readying them with a few swift shakes. The first gynobot pressed down on the SM android’s mole again, causing the patch of brown flesh to reseal itself with a *''whirr''*; as soon as it was closed, both gynobots began methodically spraying the motionless every inch of the android’s naked body, everywhere below the neck and above the wrists and ankles, with a glittery silver substance. The spray was not a paint but a sophisticated polymerized pseudo-latex that quickly adhered to itself to form an artificial bodysuit, skintight and filling every crevasse but legally acceptable as clothing. Within a few minutes the SM unit was dressed in her “uniform,” and ready to work.

The gynobots held out both cans, and the SM unit, now guided by the wireless signals from the two gynobots, held out its pink palms to receive them. The android set about spraying its fellow SM units in its cage, while the gynobots proceeded to the cage containing the BM units and resumed their work there.

The pink-scarved Yasmeen turned to Joyce, who had smilingly observed all of this activity without comment. “Well,” she said, “I think its time we finished the tour.”

Merger 7.0

2012-09-30T17:34:14Z

Karel: New page: ● ● ● The front doors of the IRU Robotics building slid open at 6:00 am the next morning, and four female figures, resembling two pairs of identical twins, walked briskly inside. ...

● ● ●

The front doors of the IRU Robotics building slid open at 6:00 am the next morning, and four female figures, resembling two pairs of identical twins, walked briskly inside.

The two in the centre were petite, pretty, swarthy-skinned, with sharp, angular facial features and prominent but attractive aquiline noses. They wore identical pairs of Luis Vuitton sunglasses, obscuring their electrifying green eyes, and identical Chanel skirt-suits. The only things that differentiated them were their loose silk scarves, which bore different floral designs, and which they wore billowing around folds of luxuriant black hair.

The one on the right, with the pink, poppy-patterned scarf, was Yasmeen bint-Jabri, née Dar, President of the Emirati Group and second wife of its Chairman, Sheikh Hossein bin Mohmed al-Jabr al-Zayed al-Ahmad.

The one on the left, with the scarf depicting a tiled maze of red lilies, was Bint-Jabri’s proxy: a custom-designed synthetic doppelgänger, cut to fit the diminutive CEO’s slender features as closely as the stylish but functional professional haute couture that both “women” wore. This one was here to become acquainted with her new home: the managerial style pioneered by her archetype had brought the real Bint-Jabri to the very cusp of the select Forbes list of self-made female billionaires, and “self-made” was something that Bint-Jabri took very seriously, having commissioned so many copies of herself over the years to “personally” oversee the dozens of companies she ran.

The other two figures, which flanked the pair of CEOs, were more representative of the kind of product that those companies actually produced. Resembling a couple of pretty, twenty-something Caucasoid North African girls, they were smartly but functionally kitted out in tightly-fitting black cosmetic hijab, with matching black pantsuits tightly stretched over small, perky breasts and pert, round buns. With their pale, nearly transluscent skin, blue eyes, and soft, bubblegum-pink lips, “cute” seemed the best word to describe these basic gynobots; but this morning they appeared programmed entirely for business.

Joyce materialized on cue in the front lobby. “Good morning!” she cheered, infectous enthusiasm inflected in her synthesized voice. “Welcome, Ms. Bint-Jabri! Congratulations on concluding the successful merger of IRU Robotics Incorporated and Emirati Group! On behalf of-”

The red-scarved Yasmeen cut the hologram off in mid sentence with a wave of her hand. “Have all of the new control protocols been installed?”

“All new control protocols are fully installed,” said Joyce, a subtle ripple passing through her holographic body. “The Emirati Group is presently the registered terminus of all local command pathways! All systems linked to my mainframe are fully at your disposal!” The projection stared at both Bint-Jabris, smiling like a kid showing off a straight “A” report card.

“Well then,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen, scrutinizing a tiny chip in her manicured nails, “Take us to see the inventory.”

“Of course!” said Joyce. “Right this way!”

Joyce turned around 180°, her holographic body rotating in place as if on top of a turntable, and began to glide toward the double doors behind the front desk, her thick legs hovering and motionless.

“Where are the support staff?” asked the red-scarved Yasmeen, the heels of her Manolo Blahniks clicking against the lobby’s ceramic floor as she followed close behind the hologram. The pink-scarved Yasmeen, walking past the unmanned reception desk, glanced a mound of plastic-wrapped bundles piled discreetly behind it.

The automatic double doors slid open ahead of Joyce, and the hologram glided through, leading the four females onto the showroom floor. Three showpiece models, barely visible from the lobby but now on full display to any customers welcomed inside, stood poised against a glass wall, frozen in mid-laugh: two BP8500s and an IL8002. Unlike the BP9000 series units, which were styled as composites incorporating a whole host of “ideal” physical features, BP8500s – in this case, a stylish, cocoa-coloured, Somalian-featured IB222 and a smooth, Sudanese-looking AW873 the colour of dark chocolate – were designed to more closely resemble specific celebrity models, although not so closely as to actually require the payment of licensing fees. The IL8002, though a slightly less sophisticated unit, was pure craftsmanship: a glorious red-headed beauty whose creamy, curvaceous body was covered in thousands of individually painted freckles.

Yasmeen crinkled her nose in distaste. Bint-Jabri had cut her teeth as a turnaround specialist, and IRU Robotics, by any measure, was in desperate need of a turnaround. The units posed in front of her were among the best that money could buy, but the company’s reputation for quality and craftsmanship went largely unnoticed as a result of the cheap, evasive calculations embodied in series like the BP8500, which had led industry commentators to deride IRU for producing “knockoffs.”

But easily the biggest source of woe had been previous management’s stubborn resistance to changing IRU’s niche brand. The company’s consistently misguided design decisions had given it traction only in a few tiny African markets, but had left it a middling player in the increasingly sclerotic markets of America, Brazil, and the European Federation; and it had next to no presence in Asia, where Emirati was now engaged in cutthroat competition with a number of aggressive Chinese, Korean, and Singaporean firms.

Bint-Jabri’s crack team of marketing specialists had, however, assured her that the problem was primarily aesthetic. Hence, the first managerial directive of the new merged entity: a general reboot of the brand.

“I’m sorry,” said the floating Joyce, her comic smile turning upside-down into a comic frown. “All discontinued series support staff have already been processed.”

“How many of the support staff were discontinued series?” asked the pink-scarved Yasmeen.

“Forty-one, out of forty-two total staff,” answered Joyce. She smiled again, oblivious to the fact that this answer, like the last one, was probably not what the women wanted to hear.

“Are you counting yourself?” asked the red-scarved Yasmeen.

“Oh no, of course not!” said Joyce, with an animated shake of her head. ““I’m certainly not staff! My mainframe is the registered property of the Emirati Group.” Her dimples dug in a little deeper. “I strive only to be the best possible corporate asset!”

The pink-scarved Yasmeen gestured back at the showroom models. “How many other luxury models like these are there on the premises?” she asked.

“At present, there are two BP9000 series units: unit number HB544, previously purposed main reception, and one, unit number NC657, previously purposed executive reception. Both have been fully processed.”

The red-scarved Yasmeen turned to one of the pantsuited gynobots. “Process these BP8500 units as well,” she said, and then, turning to the other Yasmeen, asked “Leave the IL8002 up, I think?”

“I think so,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen, nodding. The IL series was still supported. “For now.”

“Of course,” said the gynobot. Its voice was smooth and girlish. Both units instantly swung into action.

The pink-scarved Yasmeen turned to Joyce. “Well then,” she said, “take us to see the inventory.”

● ● ●

“This IRU facility is the primary transit hub for female product throughout Eastern North America, shipping and handling series designations AA through ZS,” said Joyce, her projected body skimming above the pocked concrete floor of the caverous warehouse. Thousands of naked androids filled the space, standing in rows or piled up like cordwood, lying prone on or propped up against the stacks of pallets, some wrapped in plastic, most not. A fine layer of dust lay sprinkled over hundreds of bare breasts, open palms, and fluffy Afros. “Male product is routed through Transit Centre No. 3, five-point-two miles southeast of this location,” said Joyce.

“Yes, we’re headed there this afternoon,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen. “Have the designated luxury series units been sent there already?”

“Yes,” said Joyce, “All except the five previously mentioned.”

Transit Centre No. 3 was equipped with an entire suite of cleanrooms. “Are there any cleanroom facilities at this location?” asked the pink-scarved Yasmeen, brushing some dust off of her left shoulderpad.

“There is one cleanroom,” said Joyce. “It has never been utilized.”

“That should be fine,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen. One cleanroom was probably sufficient for five androids. It had been decided that it was more economical to harvest the high quality components from the remaining luxury units for use in other lines rather than risk being forced to sell the units at a discount.

The red-scarved Yasmeen stopped in front of a cage containing about three dozen androids with shiny, straightened hair, thick, glossy lips, and wide, fleshy thighs. The identical frozen faces, staring out with glassy, sightless eyes, were the sort of handsome visages one might expect to see at a reasonably priced nightclub in Bed-Stuy or D.C. “What series are these?” asked the robot Yasmeen.

The Joyce hologram rotated to face the cage, as if its projected eyes needed to be pointed at the inventory contained inside to identify it. “Those units are: designation; SM1001, 1002, and 1002(b),” said Joyce, her body rippling again. “Primary purposing: hospital care, domicilial care, intermediate care, palliative care, custodial and janitorial service, domestic service, food service, and security services (administrative). Secondary sectors of operation: sexual services. Secondary sectors of operation: sexual services. Primary markets: the United States, the United Kingdom, Brazil.”

“This is still a supported series, right?” asked the red-scarved Yasmeen, though she was already programmed with the answer.

The pink-scarved Yasmeen nodded. “Yes,” she said, ignoring Joyce’s identical response to the question. A few of the old models were being kept on for existing customers, and the SM series units were still profitable as basic utility models, serving slop in institutional cafeterias and cleaning up after wizened dementia patients. “We can use those. What are these?”

The pink-scarved Yasmeen pointed to another cage behind her, filled with slightly more slender, less dark-skinned units. These model, like the SMs, also sported outsized asses and thighs, but harmonized with figures that were more shapely, athletic, and evenly proportioned. Their bountiful hair was coiled in thin curls, which on a few of the units were dyed varying shades of peroxide blond. One or two also wore cosmetic pairs of thick-framed glasses. Their pretty if unpolished faces, with skin a shade lighter than the SM units, resembled those of sorority sisters at FAMU or Tuskegee. One, obviously a fetish model, showed off a slightly distended belly.

Again, Joyce rotated around to face the other Yasmeen, a ripple passing through her projected holographic body. “Those units are: designation; BM2000, 2100, 2101(B),” she said. “Primary purposing: domestic service, secretarial services, hospital care, domicilial care, child care, and sexual services. Secondary sectors of operation: sexual services, marketing. Primary markets: the United States, the United Kingdom, Brazil, France.”

The red-scarved Yasmeen nodded. The BMs were another supported series, though they were being downgraded: they were now to be marketed as a simple alternative to the SM units, to the same utility customers, vacating prime sectors like child and domestic care to make way for established Emirati product. “Open these gates, will you?” said the robot Bint-Jabri.

“Of course!” said Joyce, and the electronic latches of the cage doors *''buzzed''* and released.

The gynobots had noiselessly rejoined the group, having finished packing up the units in the showroom; now they walked over to the first SM unit inside the cage. One of the gynobots, positioning itself behind the unit, traced a single pink-capped index finger down its lacquered back, stopping at a discreet mole placed just down and to the left of its right scapula. It pressed down on the mole, and the dark square rectangle of flesh on which it rested popped up and twisted away from the LCD control panel with a *''beep''*.

The second gynobot, meanwhile, peeled up a somewhat larger flap of fabric, lined with velcro, from its sister’s back, to reveal a full array of controls, including a small screen, a basic keyboard, and two spools of cable, one eSATp and one HP-IB . Everything beneath the surface of the pantsuit appeared entirely artificial, with no trace of synthetic flesh. The second gynobot swiftly drew out a length of eSATp cable and plugged it into the receptive slot behind the SM units right ear; as it did so the first gynobot emitted a loud *''buzz''*, then contorted itself into a severely angled position, as if offering its back as a writing desk. The small keyboard embedded in its backside raised up and folded out, to reveal a full QWERTY layoit.

The SM unit emitted a *''beep''*, blinked, and canted its head. “Hello,” it said, its voice a rich contralto. “This unit: designation; S. M. 1. 0. 0. 1... S. J. Unit number; 1. 1. 1.”

The red-scarved Yasmeen wrinkled her nose at the sound of the android. “Open language settings,” she said, walking up behind the first gynobot. The second gynobot robot quickly tapped a few of the keys on its sister’s back to bring up the list of installed options. Sure enough, the SM unit’s default was the first to appear alphabetically: “African American Vernacular English,” or “AAVE.”

“Let’s change that, shall we?” said the red-scarved Yasmeen.

'''AFRICAN AMERICAN VERNACULAR ENGLISH'''AFRIKAANS
''AMERICAN STANDARD ENGLISH''
''AMERICAN STANDARD SOUTHERN ENGLISH''
''AMHARIC''
''ARABIC, STANDARD''
''BAJAN''
''BERBER, STANDARD''
''BRITISH BAJAN''BRITISH ENGLISH, MLE
'''*BRITISH ENGLISH, RP*'''
''BRITISH JAMAICAN ENGLISH''''BRITISH NIGERIAN ENGLISH''
''FRENCH, SENEGAL''
''FRENCH, STANDARD''
''GERMAN, STANDARD''
''ITALIAN, STANDARD''
''JAMAICAN ENGLISH''
''PORTUGUESE, BRAZILIAN''
''SPANISH, AMERICAN STANDARD''
''SPANISH, EUROPEAN STANDARD''

“Language settings altered,” said the SM unit, its dulcet tones now perfectly clipped to the standard of the BBC World Service. “New default: British English, Received Pronunciation. Thank you.” The android’s face was impassive but expressionless, its deep voice soothing but devoid of emotion.

“Much better,” said the pink-scarved Yasmeen. “Have them set that as the default for all of the units.” The other Yasmeen nodded as the second gynobot, already accepting the order, keyed in the appropriate commands.

“Control settings accessed,” said the SM android. “Wireless options accessed. Wireless command accepted. Please install wireless receiver now.”

The second gynobot unclipped the eSATp cable from behind the android’s left ear, allowing it whip back into the control array. From the same control array it retrieved a slotted wireless receiver, resembling a black flash memory device with an eSATp interface. It roughly jammed the receiver back behind the SM unit’s ear, where it rested, tucked in behind the ear as an accountant might tuck in a pen or a pencil.

With a series of electronic *''whirrs''*, the control array keyboard refolded itself and retracted back into the first gynobot, which then returned to life, standing up and straightening itself out. The second gynobot closed the flap covering its sister’s control array, pressing down on the velcro to ensure a proper seal. The first gynobot then deftly twirled about on one foot, presenting the front of its pantsuit for a cosmetic smoothing-down by its sister (as if it were being dusted off). When this was complete it mechanically reciprocated, oblivious to the fact that the other gynobot’s controls had not been accessed, nor its clothes rumpled.

The red-scarved Yasmeen, reaching inside her Gucci purse, pulled out what appeared to be a pair of unmarked spray-paint cans and handed one to each of the pantsuited gynobots, who immediately began readying them with a few swift shakes. The first gynobot pressed down on the SM android’s mole again, causing the patch of brown flesh to reseal itself with a *''whirr''*; as soon as it was closed, both gynobots began methodically spraying the motionless every inch of the android’s naked body, everywhere below the neck and above the wrists and ankles, with a glittery silver substance. The spray was not a paint but a sophisticated polymerized pseudo-latex that quickly adhered to itself to form an artificial bodysuit, skintight and filling every crevasse but legally acceptable as clothing. Within a few minutes the SM unit was dressed in her “uniform,” and ready to work.

The gynobots held out both cans, and the SM unit, now guided by the wireless signals from the two gynobots, held out its pink palms to receive them. The android set about spraying its fellow SM units in its cage, while the gynobots proceeded to the cage containing the BM units and resumed their work there.

The pink-scarved Yasmeen turned to Joyce, who had smilingly observed all of this activity without comment. “Well,” she said, “I think its time we finished the tour.”

Merger 5.0

2012-09-30T17:05:07Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 4.0|Previous part]] - '''Part V''' - [[Merger 6.0|Next part]]

-----

Althea cradled the clear plastic earplugs like dice in her gloved right hand. “BP9000,” she said, directly into the ear of the now upright receptionist unit, “Discontinue voice command.”

“Command accfepted,” came the dulcet-toned response from behind the plastic mouthguard, “Voif command difkontinued.” The square patch of tight black flesh covering the android’s back panel slid smoothly and automatically off of the LCD touchscreen underneath, allowing access for manually keyed commands, and the receptionist went silent. Althea began to forcefully insert each earplug, grabbing the side of the android’s smooth bald head with her free hand as she did so.

Carolyn gave the double-headed dildo, now fully inserted into the receptionist’s vagina and urethra, one last tug, and then, satisfied that it was firmly in place, snapped off her latex gloves and threw them into the wastepaper basket. She put on a fresh, clean pair, and grabbed one of the plastic jars Althea had laid out on the IRU receptionist’s desk, twisting off the black lid to reveal a white, viscous goo inside. The jars contained a special water-soluble plaster, proprietary to the company. As Althea inserted the second earplug, every orifice of the android was now safely sealed for shipping and handling. The next step was to thoroughly rub this plaster into its hair and allow it to harden into a solid mass; this would prevent any hair from being caught and torn in packing tape or velcro while the android was being warehoused, or moved from place to place. With the hair on top of the receptionist unit’s head conveniently removed and made ready for packing in a separate container, that left only the hair below: the wild, untamed bush, and the few straight and curly strands that studded the inside of the BP9000’s anal crease for the sake of slavish verisimilitude. While the presence of the latter hardly conformed to Carolyn’s conception of “luxury,” she supposed that the devil was in the details.

Althea had come up with a joking name for the plaster. She called it “hair relaxer.”

Althea gave one last twist of the earplug. “Got it,” she said.

“You ready?” asked Carolyn.

“Hand me that tub,” said Althea, “I’ll do the butt.”

“''Butt'' of course,” said Carolyn with a smile, handing it over. Althea rolled her eyes and got down on her knees.

Carolyn picked up a second jar, opened it, and stared again at the android’s luxuriant pubic hair, as if unsure where to begin. Her eyes flitted up to the receptionist unit’s still smiling face: its thick lips parted over the plastic mouthguard, its cool, lifeless blue eyes staring back at her, like glass marbles set in ebony. The android’s sudden baldness seemed almost to enhance the serenity of its expression. A pair of plastic noseplugs were barely visible, stuffed up its broad nostrils by Althea.

Gently, rhythmically, Althea rubbed the fingers of her cream-covered right hand up and down between the receptionist’s buttocks, holding them open with her left. She worked the tips of them around the handle of the plastic buttplug still embedded in the unit’s anus, occasionally pinching and pushing at it to be sure it was still in place. The white plaster-paste filled the crevasse, coating everything.

With the tip of one gloved index finger, Carolyn slowly and deliberately traced the lower lip of the frozen android. She moved it to the centre of the mouth, curled it inside between the lip and the mouthguard, and peeled down, revealing the android’s soft, pink artificial gums. Then she let go, and the large lip whipped back into place with a wobble, eliciting zero reaction from its owner. Suppressing a giggle, Carolyn brought her index finger back to her own mouth, against her own lips, and then, absent-mindedly, sucked on it, like an infant sucking on a thumb, or a nipple.

“Carolyn?” came Althea’s voice from below.

Carolyn withdrew her finger from her mouth and stuck it straight into the plaster goo, churning a great gob onto the tip of it. “Coming,” she said sweetly, and, still staring intently into the receptionist android’s glassy eyes, pressed the gob into its pubic hair, and began to rub.

Althea had now squeezed her fingers into the space between the receptionist unit’s massive thighs and was rapidly rubbing them through, covering all of the hairs between the anus and the pubis. Carolyn continued staring into the android’s still eyes as she massaged its pubic hair with her hands, lathering the plaster like shampoo to coat every strand.

After a few minutes, Althea stood up, snapped off her plaster-coated latex gloves, and threw them into the wastepaper basket to slowly harden. “You almost done?” she asked.

“Almost,” said Carolyn, suppressing a slight shudder in her voice.

Althea pressed her fingertips against to the BP9000’s dark right shoulderblade and began to thumb through commands on the LCD screen of the rear access panel.

'''INITIATE COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN.'''

'''WARNING: COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN WILL RESULT IN ERASURE OF ALL PROGRAMS AND DATA. ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO CONTINUE? YES. NO.'''

Althea knew that virtually no programs or data remained on the BP9000 at present, though it did not occur to her to ask what had happened to them, or who had cleaned them off of the receptionist’s systems before she and Carolyn had arrived. In any case, she did not hesitate to key in “'''YES.'''”
'''COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN INITIATED''', read the screen, which also offered a side prompt with the option to '''CANCEL''' as the countdown began.

'''5.'''

'''4.'''

'''3.'''

'''2.'''

'''1.'''

'''GOODBYE''' read the screen.

“Fiftem Fhutdown Inifialized,” said the receptionist android, its silky, spicy voice registering one last time: “Good-bye.” There was a final *''beep''*, and its smile faded, its lips large lips closing, the mass of the mouthguard behind them lending them a mildly pursed look. Its dark, long-lashed lids slid shut over its ghostly blue eyes. Its head slowly and mechanically tilted forward, with an almost inaudible sound of hydraulics being released, until its chin came to rest on its busty chest, with a final shudder and bounce. A certain momentary slackness came over the entire body, though only enough to cause a bend of a few degrees at the waist before it locked back in place and stiffened like stone. Carolyn felt the bend beneath her fingers, and the stiffness as it settled into the synthetic labial muscles underneath the last few curles of unplastered pubic hair, which she quickly twisted and coated with one deft flick of her wrist. The rectangle of flesh that had covered the robot’s rear access panel swiftly circled back into place over it and descended with a *''whirr''*, and then the receptionist, BP9000 NC 657, was truly still.

Carolyn stood up and snapped off her gloves. “All done,” she said.

Althea handed her one end of a large sheet of bubble wrap. “Just this, then, and we’re done for the day,” she said, smiling. The two robot girls twirled around the immobile receptionist with the plastic packing wrap, tying it up with hoops of tape after they had succeeded in completely mummifying the attractive body of the third android. The plastic bubbles pressed up against the still wet plaster around the android’s crotch and ass crack, but it didn’t matter: if it entrapped them as it hardened then they would just tear off when the package was unwrapped, and loose bits of plastic would come off in the wash when the hair was hosed off, fully intact. Carolyn gave the downcast face of the receptionist one last look, then covered it with a plastic sheet, swiftly affixing the same with a circle of tape around its scalp.

Althea pulled a black felt-tipped marker out of her breast pocket and used it to mark "BP9000" on the outside of the package; then the girls tilted the encased android over and hoisted it onto their shoulders like a roll of carpet, seemingly unfazed by the fact that it weighed well over 200 pounds, and carried it a few metres to the corner of the reception area, where five similarly-sized and marked plastic-wrapped packages lay stacked like in a pile. This pile, plainly visible to anyone in the room, appeared to have escaped the notice or comment of all three androids for the entire day; now the two that were still on their feet threw the third on top of it like a piece of driftwood, and brushed the dust off of their hands and clothes.

Carolyn and Althea looked at each other and smiled. “Woo-hoo!” said Carolyn.

“Done, ''finally'',” said Althea, “Rebranding complete.”

“You know, the new guys had better appreciate all this hard work we’ve put in!”

Althea strode over to Carolyn, put her arm around her, and gave her a quick kiss. “I’ll tell you what,” she said, rubbing Carolyn’s back, “Let’s get out of here and get some drinks, and I’ll show you how much ''I'' appreciate all your hard, ''harrd'' work.”

“Okay,” said Carolyn, grinning. “My place or yours?”

“Mine,” said Althea. “I’ve got to show you the new stuff I’ve added since you were last over there.”

“Alright, let me just get my purse,” said Carolyn.

The two androids walked over to the receptionist’s desk and began gathering their things, Althea collecting the jugs of plaster next to her carrying case. Carolyn picked up her purse, and was about to zip it up, when she suddenly heard a *''buzzing''* coming from inside of it. She reached in and plucked out her Nokia phone.

Althea looked over at her with a mild frown. “Who is it?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Let me check,” said Carolyn, closing out of the Tetris '''GAME OVER''' screen and opening up her messages. It seemed to be a bulletin from IRU, with software and document updates attached. She thumbed it open.

Carolyn went silent. The sound of a fan gearing up to higher speed was momentarily audible in the room. Several minutes later, Althea looked up from the pile of packing supplies she was gathering up on the desk. “Carolyn?” she asked. Carolyn seemed frozen in place, staring at the glowing light of her smartphone, a blank expression on her face. “Carolyn?” Althea asked again, waving her hand in front of the other android’s eyes, “Yoo-hoo? Anyone home?” No response. She shook her friend on the shoulder. “Yo. What gives?”

With a start, Carolyn seemed to suddenly snap out of it. “Sorry!” she said, smiling. “Seemed to zone out for a second there. What were you saying?”

“Who was it?”

“Oh,” said Carolyn. “Just the company. Automated message.” She squinted her eyes then, and pointed at the pile on the desk behind Althea. “Say, Alt, that buttplug there, the fourth one down, do you know if that’s compatible with an HY-series?”

“Which one?” asked Altea, turning around.

Carolyn peeled back the nail of her index finger with a *''click''*. “The third biggest one.”

Althea bent over the desk for a closer look. “Yeah,” she said, not noticing as Carolyn brushed the hair away from the left side of her head, “It says that-”

With a single swift motion, Carolyn jammed the eSATAp cable mounted in her finger into the slot behind Althea’s left ear.

-----

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 4.0|Previous part]] - '''Part V''' - [[Merger 6.0|Next part]]

[[Category:Karel]]
[[Category:Stories]]

Merger 2.0

2012-09-30T17:03:02Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 1.0|Previous part]] - '''Part II''' - [[Merger 3.0|Next part]]

-----

The IRU receptionist was a tall, dark-skinned composite of dozens of actresses, athletes, and supermodels, with a large body designed to incorporate “classic” African oestrogenic features. The overall physical effect was stunning.

Naomi’s striking grey eyes lit up, and her large black lips parted to reveal a dazzling white smile. “Good ''morning''?” she said, “It’s already three in the afternoon, silly!” Her flawless English was coloured by the faintest trace of a Caribbean lilt, like a pinch of jerk spice.

Carolyn and Althea stopped in their tracks a few steps outside the elevator. Althea looked confused. “Is it?” she asked, turning to Carolyn.

“Wow,” said Carolyn, checking the time with her pink Nokia smart phone. “That’s weird. Where did the time go?”

“I don’t know,” said Althea.

“It’s almost time to go home, you two!” said Naomi, getting up from her chair. Her double-D breasts, and even more enormous buttocks, trembled and quaked beneath her crisp, tight white clothes as she walked over, her arms wide open, to greet the girls with a hug. Naomi embraced Althea first. “How are you doing, sister?” she said.

“I’m fine, Naomi,” said Althea, returning the embrace. “Thanks for asking. You must be getting lonely up here, all by yourself!”

“Naaw!” said Naomi. “I like it! Lots of piece and quiet, nobody bothering me.” She ginched up her gorgeous face into a conspiratorial grin. “And that awful Mr. Lesk is gone!”

Althea laughed at that. “That’s right! He was a piece of work, wasn’t he!”

“Always pinching my bottom, every day. ''Nugh''!” said Naomi, shaking her head and sticking out her shockingly long, pink tongue. All three girls suddenly broke into laughter.

“And I don’t think he got his golden parachute, either!” said Carolyn, recovering.

“No, that’s right," said Naomi between breaths. "They hustled him ''right'' out the door.”

The second-floor receptionist gave Carolyn her hug. “How are you, love? I haven’t seen you in ages.”

Carolyn felt the soft pressure of Naomi’s massive breasts pressed against her own as she reached around the robot’s white dress shirt. “I’m good, Naomi. Great to see you.”

The receptionist android straightened up, brushed a few strands of hair away from her ghostly grey eyes, and stared intently into Carolyn’s, holding both of the other android’s hands in its own. “Why haven’t you girls been coming by my way?”

“Oh, well, you know,” said Carolyn. “They just keep sending us more work for the rebranding.”

“Oh, I know!” said Naomi. “It’s unbelievable, isn’t it? Such a huge change!”

Carolyn and Althea nodded. “I think it’ll be good though, when it’s finished,” said Althea.

“Oh, me too, me too,” said Naomi, nodding herself. “A new look.”

Althea began stroking the fingers of her right hand through Naomi’s shiny, immaculately straightened jet-black hair; none of the girls, Althea included, seemed to notice. “Have any of the new big wigs from Emirati come by yet?” asked Althea.

Naomi shook her head. “No, not yet. Hey,” she said, turning to Carolyn, “Why don’t you come over to my place tonight? It’s been forever since we’ve had a girls’ night out!”

“I’d love to!” said Carolyn, smiling. Then her smile faded a little, and her eyes seemed to cross in puzzlement. She pressed her pink index finger to her lower lip, as if searching for something in her memory. “Hmm…” she said. “Except… I don’t know, I feel like I’m already doing something tonight.”

“Oh?” said Naomi, a look of mild disappointment coming over her beautiful face.

With a barely audible *''click''*, Althea, looking suddenly distracted and unfocused, pulled back the clear-glossed nail of her right index finger.

“Yeah,” said Carolyn. “Weird. It’s just a feeling, but I can’t think of what it could be.” The android gave a nervous laugh. “Don’t you just hate when that happens?”

In what seemed almost like a single swift and fluid motion, Althea’s left hand lifted Naomi’s silky hair off of Naomi’s left ear, while the index finger of her right hand, eSATAp cable protruding, jabbed in behind the ear. The receptionist unit’s facial expression immediately froze in place, lips locked in a curious “Oh?” that now resembled an expression of surprise, and an audible *''beep''* could be heard as Naomi seemed to suddenly bend forward, thrusting out her buttocks, her arms falling away from Carolyn’s and locking at the elbows a few inches down. Naomi froze in that awkward position like a statue.

Carolyn appeared to observe this without comment, an impassive expression on her face. As the receptionist unit’s hands fell away from her own she reached out to lay her palms against Naomi’s upper arms instead, and then tilted her head, as if curious as to why she had done so. She looked into Naomi’s frozen grey eyes and took in the seemingly shocked look on the other android’s face, but no thoughts in particular arose from this. Then her eyes drifted down toward the other android’s ample cleavage, which she could now view from the perfect angle. ''Naomi really does have nice breasts,'' said Carolyn to herself. ''I’ve said it to her before, but I should really say it again. It’s better that she hears it from us girls rather than the pigs who work here.''

Slowly, and for no particular reason, Carolyn moved her palms up Naomi’s arms to the receptionist’s shoulders and closed her hands around them. Then she seemed to think of something. She moved in closer toward the receptionist android, and felt Naomi’s circular lips press into her shoulder, and Naomi’s fine breasts pressed against her upper stomach. Carolyn then dragged her hands down Naomi’s backside, to the pressed white mini-skirt that was now lifted well above the dark flesh of the receptionist’s gluteals. She tried to close her hands around Naomi’s cheeks, attempting to cup one in each palm, and found that she could not do it: the gluteals were so gigantic that her fingers remained several inches apart. The smooth protuberances were hard as rocks, all artificial flesh frozen in place. Carolyn giggled. “Hey, Althea!” she said.

Althea appeared to hear Carolyn. The other android, with her right arm now locked in a rigid karate chop gesture less than a foot from the receptionist’s ear, turned her head and upper body toward Carolyn in jerks and insect-like motions, the eSATAp cable spooling out from her index finger to cover the extra few inches from Naomi. Althea’s face was completely lifeless, without expression, but on facing Carolyn the corners of her mouth turned up for a few seconds in a mechanical way and formed a kind of artificial smile. Then they dropped again, and Althea jerked away from facing Carolyn to go back to staring into empty space.

Carolyn unclasped her hands, straightened up, and appeared to lose interest in talking to Althea. She brushed a blonde strand of hair out of her eyes and patted her shirt where Naomi’s lips had touched it. Then she slowly walked around the frozen receptionist, and looked at where her hands had been. Her eyes flitted from Naomi to Althea and back again. ''Hmm'', she said to herself. ''Same'' shape, ''though.''

With her body bent at a 45° angle, Naomi’s miniskirt was now hiked nearly halfway up her backside, leaving very little to the imagination. The receptionist robot appeared not to be wearing panties. Carolyn sighed, reached out, and rolled the skin-tight skirt up the rest of the way to check. Nope. No panties. ''Why does she dress like this?'' thought Carolyn, surveying the other android’s bare ass. ''She just encourages them!''

All of a sudden the receptionist seemed to start up, jerking into an upright position with a *''beep''*. Carolyn, startled, let go of Naomi’s skirt, which remained folded up over the curve of the other android’s buttocks, stretched like an elastic band. A square patch of the secretary’s shirt, between her shoulderblades, seemed to rise up, and then to move under the fabric in a circular motion, as if turning on a screw; an electric grow, now uncovered, emanated from the area where it had arisen. Naomi suddenly spoke: “Attention,” she said, her West Indian accent now slightly more prominent, “You must be an administrator to alter these files.”

Carolyn tried to lift Naomi’s arms to peel her shirt over her head, but found that they remained frozen by her sides, so after rolling up the other robot’s shirt to reveal a back access panel Carolyn simply stretched it over the receptionist’s head like a hoodie to hold it in place. “Attention,” Naomi repeated, “You must be an administrator to alter these files.”

Carolyn looked at the touchscreen panel, on which a previously hidden file folder was now highlighted. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.” Both Carolyn and Althea had been given all of the necessary administrator passwords, but Althea, now operating merely as a computer conduit, was not presently able to recall and input them manually, as was now demanded by the password prompt screen displayed on Naomi’s back panel. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.”

Carolyn frowned. The screen had only come up because the folder was hidden on a virtual drive that should have been empty. It was marked “@LEsk_69”. She thumbed it open. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.” The folder just seemed to contain random off-licence personality apps: Carolyn saw a bunch of programs with labels like “SuperSodomyv11.exe”, “Sodomy69.exe”, “FinalFellatio.exe,” “Ulti_Fellatio.exe,” “AbsolutAnal.exe,” “BGGW.exe, TimeWipe.exe,” etc., etc., etc. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.” Without giving it any thought, Carolyn highlighted the entire folder and entered the administrator’s password.

“Are you sure you want to delete these files?” asked Naomi, her tone one of smooth sweetness.

Carolyn thumbed “Yes.”

With an electronic *''whirrr''*, the patch of brown flesh that had risen to uncover the back access panel swiveled back over it and slid down into place, the seams in Naomi’s dark skin instantly resealing themselves. The receptionist suddenly reassumed her original frozen position, bending back into a 45° angle at the waist, her lips reforming into their “Oh” of surprise, her buttocks bumping up against Carolyn’s crotch as they thrust out once more. Althea, too, seemed to jerk a little, and to say something unintelligable, before resuming her stare into empty space. With a smile, Carolyn brought the white shirt off of Naomi’s head, pulled it down, and pressed it flat against the receptionist’s back with both palms; then she replaced Naomi’s skirt as well, stretching it down as far as it would go, and smoothing out the wrinkles over each bulging, half-covered cheek with her hands.

For a moment Carolyn stood back, her hands on her hips, surveying both of the other androids with a look of satisfaction on her face. Then a certain distractedness, or a kind of mild confusion, appeared to come over her once again. Suddenly bored, she retrieved her Nokia from her purse, and began to play Tetris.

-----

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 1.0|Previous part]] - '''Part II''' - [[Merger 3.0|Next part]]

[[Category:Karel]]
[[Category:Stories]]

Merger 2.0

2012-09-30T17:01:48Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 1.0|Previous part]] - '''Part II''' - [[Merger 3.0|Next part]]

-----

The IRU receptionist was a tall, dark-skinned composite of dozens of actresses, athletes, and supermodels, with a large body designed to incorporate “classic” African oestrogenic features. The overall physical effect was stunning.

Naomi’s striking grey eyes lit up, and her large black lips parted to reveal a dazzling white smile. “Good ''morning''?” she said, “It’s already three in the afternoon, silly!” Her flawless English was coloured by the faintest trace of a Caribbean lilt, like a pinch of jerk spice.

Carolyn and Althea stopped in their tracks a few steps outside the elevator. Althea looked confused. “Is it?” she asked, turning to Carolyn.

“Wow,” said Carolyn, checking the time with her pink Nokia smart phone. “That’s weird. Where did the time go?”

“I don’t know,” said Althea.

“It’s almost time to go home, you two!” said Naomi, getting up from her chair. Her double-D breasts, and even more enormous buttocks, trembled and quaked beneath her crisp, tight white clothes as she walked over, her arms wide open, to greet the girls with a hug. Naomi embraced Althea first. “How are you doing, sister?” she said.

“I’m fine, Naomi,” said Althea, returning the embrace. “Thanks for asking. You must be getting lonely up here, all by yourself!”

“Naaw!” said Naomi. “I like it! Lots of piece and quiet, nobody bothering me.” She ginched up her gorgeous face into a conspiratorial grin. “And that awful Mr. Lesk is gone!”

Althea laughed at that. “That’s right! He was a piece of work, wasn’t he!”

“Always pinching my bottom, every day. ''Nugh''!” said Naomi, shaking her head and sticking out her shockingly long, pink tongue. All three girls suddenly broke into laughter.

“And I don’t think he got his golden parachute, either!” said Carolyn, recovering.

“No, that’s right," said Naomi between breaths. "They hustled him ''right'' out the door.”

The second-floor receptionist gave Carolyn her hug. “How are you, love? I haven’t seen you in ages.”

Carolyn felt the soft pressure of Naomi’s massive breasts pressed against her own as she reached around the robot’s white dress shirt. “I’m good, Naomi. Great to see you.”

The receptionist android straightened up, brushed a few strands of hair away from her ghostly grey eyes, and stared intently into Carolyn’s, holding both of the other android’s hands in its own. “Why haven’t you girls been coming by my way?”

“Oh, well, you know,” said Carolyn. “They just keep sending us more work for the rebranding.”

“Oh, I know!” said Naomi. “It’s unbelievable, isn’t it? Such a huge change!”

Carolyn and Althea nodded. “I think it’ll be good though, when it’s finished,” said Althea.

“Oh, me too, me too,” said Naomi, nodding herself. “A new look.”

Althea began stroking the fingers of her right hand through Naomi’s shiny, immaculately straightened jet-black hair; none of the girls, Althea included, seemed to notice. “Have any of the new big wigs from Emirati come by yet?” asked Althea.

Naomi shook her head. “No, not yet. Hey,” she said, turning to Carolyn, “Why don’t you come over to my place tonight? It’s been forever since we’ve had a girls’ night out!”

“I’d love to!” said Carolyn, smiling. Then her smile faded a little, and her eyes seemed to cross in puzzlement. She pressed her pink index finger to her lower lip, as if searching for something in her memory. “Hmm…” she said. “Except… I don’t know, I feel like I’m already doing something tonight.”

“Oh?” said Naomi, a look of mild disappointment coming over her beautiful face.

With a barely audible *''click''*, Althea, looking suddenly distracted and unfocused, pulled back the clear-glossed nail of her right index finger.

“Yeah,” said Carolyn. “Weird. It’s just a feeling, but I can’t think of what it could be.” The android gave a nervous laugh. “Don’t you just hate when that happens?”

In what seemed almost like a single swift and fluid motion, Althea’s left hand lifted Naomi’s silky hair off of Naomi’s left ear, while the index finger of her right hand, eSATAp cable protruding, jabbed in behind the ear. The receptionist unit’s facial expression immediately froze in place, lips locked in a curious “Oh?” that now resembled an expression of surprise, and an audible *''beep''* could be heard as Naomi seemed to suddenly bend forward, thrusting out her buttocks, her arms falling away from Carolyn’s and locking at the elbows a few inches down. Naomi froze in that awkward position like a statue.

Carolyn appeared to observe this without comment, an impassive expression on her face. As the receptionist unit’s hands fell away from her own she reached out to lay her palms against Naomi’s upper arms instead, and then tilted her head, as if curious as to why she had done so. She looked into Naomi’s frozen grey eyes and took in the seemingly shocked look on the other android’s face, but no thoughts in particular arose from this. Then her eyes drifted down toward the other android’s ample cleavage, which she could now view from the perfect angle. ''Naomi really does have nice breasts,'' said Carolyn to herself. ''I’ve said it to her before, but I should really say it again. It’s better that she hears it from us girls rather than the pigs who work here.''

Slowly, and for no particular reason, Carolyn moved her palms up Naomi’s arms to the receptionist’s shoulders and closed her hands around them. Then she seemed to think of something. She moved in closer toward the receptionist android, and felt Naomi’s circular lips press into her shoulder, and Naomi’s fine breasts pressed against her upper stomach. Carolyn then dragged her hands down Naomi’s backside, to the pressed white mini-skirt that was now lifted well above the dark flesh of the receptionist’s gluteals. She tried to close her hands around Naomi’s cheeks, attempting to cup one in each palm, and found that she could not do it: the gluteals were so gigantic that each of her fingers was still several inches apart. The smooth protuberances were hard as rocks, all artificial flesh frozen in place. Carolyn giggled. “Hey, Althea!” she said.

Althea appeared to hear Carolyn. The other android, with her right arm now locked in a rigid karate chop gesture less than a foot from the receptionist’s ear, turned her head and upper body toward Carolyn in jerks and insect-like motions, the eSATAp cable spooling out from her index finger to cover the extra few inches from Naomi. Althea’s face was completely lifeless, without expression, but on facing Carolyn the corners of her mouth turned up for a few seconds in a mechanical way and formed a kind of artificial smile. Then they dropped again, and Althea jerked away from facing Carolyn to go back to staring into empty space.

Carolyn unclasped her hands, straightened up, and appeared to lose interest in talking to Althea. She brushed a blonde strand of hair out of her eyes and patted her shirt where Naomi’s lips had touched it. Then she slowly walked around the frozen receptionist, and looked at where her hands had been. Her eyes flitted from Naomi to Althea and back again. ''Hmm'', she said to herself. ''Same'' shape, ''though.''

With her body bent at a 45° angle, Naomi’s miniskirt was now hiked nearly halfway up her backside, leaving very little to the imagination. The receptionist robot appeared not to be wearing panties. Carolyn sighed, reached out, and rolled the skin-tight skirt up the rest of the way to check. Nope. No panties. ''Why does she dress like this?'' thought Carolyn, surveying the other android’s bare ass. ''She just encourages them!''

All of a sudden the receptionist seemed to start up, jerking into an upright position with a *''beep''*. Carolyn, startled, let go of Naomi’s skirt, which remained folded up over the curve of the other android’s buttocks, stretched like an elastic band. A square patch of the secretary’s shirt, between her shoulderblades, seemed to rise up, and then to move under the fabric in a circular motion, as if turning on a screw; an electric grow, now uncovered, emanated from the area where it had arisen. Naomi suddenly spoke: “Attention,” she said, her West Indian accent now slightly more prominent, “You must be an administrator to alter these files.”

Carolyn tried to lift Naomi’s arms to peel her shirt over her head, but found that they remained frozen by her sides, so after rolling up the other robot’s shirt to reveal a back access panel Carolyn simply stretched it over the receptionist’s head like a hoodie to hold it in place. “Attention,” Naomi repeated, “You must be an administrator to alter these files.”

Carolyn looked at the touchscreen panel, on which a previously hidden file folder was now highlighted. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.” Both Carolyn and Althea had been given all of the necessary administrator passwords, but Althea, now operating merely as a computer conduit, was not presently able to recall and input them manually, as was now demanded by the password prompt screen displayed on Naomi’s back panel. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.”

Carolyn frowned. The screen had only come up because the folder was hidden on a virtual drive that should have been empty. It was marked “@LEsk_69”. She thumbed it open. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.” The folder just seemed to contain random off-licence personality apps: Carolyn saw a bunch of programs with labels like “SuperSodomyv11.exe”, “Sodomy69.exe”, “FinalFellatio.exe,” “Ulti_Fellatio.exe,” “AbsolutAnal.exe,” “BGGW.exe, TimeWipe.exe,” etc., etc., etc. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.” Without giving it any thought, Carolyn highlighted the entire folder and entered the administrator’s password.

“Are you sure you want to delete these files?” asked Naomi, her tone one of smooth sweetness.

Carolyn thumbed “Yes.”

With an electronic *''whirrr''*, the patch of brown flesh that had risen to uncover the back access panel swiveled back over it and slid down into place, the seams in Naomi’s dark skin instantly resealing themselves. The receptionist suddenly reassumed her original frozen position, bending back into a 45° angle at the waist, her lips reforming into their “Oh” of surprise, her buttocks bumping up against Carolyn’s crotch as they thrust out once more. Althea, too, seemed to jerk a little, and to say something unintelligable, before resuming her stare into empty space. With a smile, Carolyn brought the white shirt off of Naomi’s head, pulled it down, and pressed it flat against the receptionist’s back with both palms; then she replaced Naomi’s skirt as well, stretching it down as far as it would go, and smoothing out the wrinkles over each bulging, half-covered cheek with her hands.

For a moment Carolyn stood back, her hands on her hips, surveying both of the other androids with a look of satisfaction on her face. Then a certain distractedness, or a kind of mild confusion, appeared to come over her once again. Suddenly bored, she retrieved her Nokia from her purse, and began to play Tetris.

-----

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 1.0|Previous part]] - '''Part II''' - [[Merger 3.0|Next part]]

[[Category:Karel]]
[[Category:Stories]]

Merger 2.0

2012-09-30T16:59:11Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 1.0|Previous part]] - '''Part II''' - [[Merger 3.0|Next part]]

-----

The IRU receptionist was a tall, dark-skinned composite of dozens of actresses, athletes, and supermodels, with a large body designed to incorporate “classic” African oestrogenic features. The overall physical effect was stunning.

Naomi’s striking grey eyes lit up, and her large black lips parted to reveal a dazzling white smile. “Good ''morning''?” she said, “It’s already three in the afternoon, silly!” Her flawless English was coloured by the faintest trace of a Caribbean lilt, like a pinch of jerk spice.

Carolyn and Althea stopped in their tracks a few steps outside the elevator. Althea looked confused. “Is it?” she asked, turning to Carolyn.

“Wow,” said Carolyn, checking the time with her pink Nokia smart phone. “That’s weird. Where did the time go?”

“I don’t know,” said Althea.

“It’s almost time to go home, you two!” said Naomi, getting up from her chair. Her double-D breasts, and even more enormous buttocks, trembled and quaked beneath her crisp, tight white clothes as she walked over, her arms wide open, to greet the girls with a hug. Naomi embraced Althea first. “How are you doing, sister?” she said.

“I’m fine, Naomi,” said Althea, returning the embrace. “Thanks for asking. You must be getting lonely up here, all by yourself!”

“Naaw!” said Naomi. “I like it! Lots of piece and quiet, nobody bothering me.” She ginched up her gorgeous face into a conspiratorial grin. “And that awful Mr. Lesk is gone!”

Althea laughed at that. “That’s right! He was a piece of work, wasn’t he!”

“Always pinching my bottom, every day. ''Nugh''!” said Naomi, shaking her head and sticking out her shockingly long, pink tongue. All three girls suddenly broke into laughter.

“And I don’t think he got his golden parachute, either!” said Carolyn, recovering.

“No, that’s right," said Naomi between breaths. "They hustled him ''right'' out the door.”

The second-floor receptionist gave Carolyn her hug. “How are you, love? I haven’t seen you in ages.”

Carolyn felt the soft pressure of Naomi’s massive breasts pressed against her own as she reached around the robot’s white dress shirt. “I’m good, Naomi. Great to see you.”

The receptionist android straightened up, brushed a few strands of hair away from her ghostly grey eyes, and stared intently into Carolyn’s, holding both of the other android’s hands in its own. “Why haven’t you girls been coming by my way?”

“Oh, well, you know,” said Carolyn. “They just keep sending us more work for the rebranding.”

“Oh, I know!” said Naomi. “It’s unbelievable, isn’t it? Such a huge change!”

Carolyn and Althea nodded. “I think it’ll be good though, when it’s finished,” said Althea.

“Oh, me too, me too,” said Naomi, nodding herself. “A new look.”

Althea began stroking the fingers of her right hand through Naomi’s shiny, immaculately straightened jet-black hair; none of the girls, Althea included, seemed to notice. “Have any of the new big wigs from Emirati come by yet?” asked Althea.

Naomi shook her head. “No, not yet. Hey,” she said, turning to Carolyn, “Why don’t you come over to my place tonight? It’s been forever since we’ve had a girls’ night out!”

“I’d love to!” said Carolyn, smiling. Then her smile faded a little, and her eyes seemed to cross in puzzlement. She pressed her pink index finger to her lower lip, as if searching for something in her memory. “Hmm…” she said. “Except… I don’t know, I feel like I’m already doing something tonight.”

“Oh?” said Naomi, a look of mild disappointment coming over her beautiful face.

With a barely audible *''click''*, Althea, looking suddenly distracted and unfocused, pulled back the clear-glossed nail of her right index finger.

“Yeah,” said Carolyn. “Weird. It’s just a feeling, but I can’t think of what it could be.” The android gave a nervous laugh. “Don’t you just hate when that happens?”

In what seemed almost like a single swift and fluid motion, Althea’s left hand lifted Naomi’s silky hair off of Naomi’s left ear, while the index finger of her right hand, eSATAp cable protruding, jabbed in behind the ear. The receptionist unit’s facial expression immediately froze in place, lips locked in a curious “Oh?” that now resembled an expression of surprise, and an audible *''beep''* could be heard as Naomi seemed to suddenly bend forward, thrusting out her buttocks, her arms falling away from Carolyn’s and locking at the elbows a few inches down. Naomi froze in that awkward position like a statue.

Carolyn appeared to observe this without comment, an impassive expression on her face. As the receptionist unit’s hands fell away from her own she reached out to lay her palms against Naomi’s upper arms instead, and then tilted her head, as if curious as to why she had done so. She looked into Naomi’s frozen grey eyes and took in the seemingly shocked look on the other android’s face, but no thoughts in particular arose from this. Then her eyes drifted down toward the other android’s ample cleavage, which she could now view from the perfect angle. ''Naomi really does have nice breasts,'' said Carolyn to herself. ''I’ve said it to her before, but I should really say it again. It’s better that she hears it from us girls rather than the pigs who work here.''

Slowly, and for no particular reason, Carolyn moved her palms up Naomi’s arms to the receptionist’s shoulders and closed her hands around them. Then she seemed to think of something. She moved in closer toward the receptionist android, and felt Naomi’s circular lips press into her shoulder, and Naomi’s fine breasts pressed against her upper stomach. Carolyn then dragged her hands down Naomi’s backside, to the pressed white mini-skirt that was now lifted well above the dark flesh of the receptionist’s gluteals. She tried to close her hands around Naomi’s cheeks, attempting to cup one in each palm, and found that she could not do it, and that her fingers were still several inches apart. Each smooth protuberance was hard as a rock, all the artificial flesh frozen in place. Carolyn giggled. “Hey Althea!” she said.

Althea appeared to hear Carolyn. The other android, with her right arm now locked in a rigid karate chop gesture less than a foot from the receptionist’s ear, turned her head and upper body toward Carolyn in jerks and insect-like motions, the eSATAp cable spooling out from her index finger to cover the extra few inches from Naomi. Althea’s face was completely lifeless, without expression, but on facing Carolyn the corners of her mouth turned up for a few seconds in a mechanical way and formed a kind of artificial smile. Then they dropped again, and Althea jerked away from facing Carolyn to go back to staring into empty space.

Carolyn unclasped her hands, straightened up, and appeared to lose interest in talking to Althea. She brushed a blonde strand of hair out of her eyes and patted her shirt where Naomi’s lips had touched it. Then she slowly walked around the frozen receptionist, and looked at where her hands had been. Her eyes flitted from Naomi to Althea and back again. ''Hmm'', she said to herself. ''Same'' shape, ''though.''

With her body bent at a 45° angle, Naomi’s miniskirt was now hiked nearly halfway up her backside, leaving very little to the imagination. The receptionist robot appeared not to be wearing panties. Carolyn sighed, reached out, and rolled the skin-tight skirt up the rest of the way to check. Nope. No panties. ''Why does she dress like this?'' thought Carolyn, surveying the other android’s bare ass. ''She just encourages them!''

All of a sudden the receptionist seemed to start up, jerking into an upright position with a *''beep''*. Carolyn, startled, let go of Naomi’s skirt, which remained folded up over the curve of the other android’s buttocks, stretched like an elastic band. A square patch of the secretary’s shirt, between her shoulderblades, seemed to rise up, and then to move under the fabric in a circular motion, as if turning on a screw; an electric grow, now uncovered, emanated from the area where it had arisen. Naomi suddenly spoke: “Attention,” she said, her West Indian accent now slightly more prominent, “You must be an administrator to alter these files.”

Carolyn tried to lift Naomi’s arms to peel her shirt over her head, but found that they remained frozen by her sides, so after rolling up the other robot’s shirt to reveal a back access panel Carolyn simply stretched it over the receptionist’s head like a hoodie to hold it in place. “Attention,” Naomi repeated, “You must be an administrator to alter these files.”

Carolyn looked at the touchscreen panel, on which a previously hidden file folder was now highlighted. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.” Both Carolyn and Althea had been given all of the necessary administrator passwords, but Althea, now operating merely as a computer conduit, was not presently able to recall and input them manually, as was now demanded by the password prompt screen displayed on Naomi’s back panel. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.”

Carolyn frowned. The screen had only come up because the folder was hidden on a virtual drive that should have been empty. It was marked “@LEsk_69”. She thumbed it open. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.” The folder just seemed to contain random off-licence personality apps: Carolyn saw a bunch of programs with labels like “SuperSodomyv11.exe”, “Sodomy69.exe”, “FinalFellatio.exe,” “Ulti_Fellatio.exe,” “AbsolutAnal.exe,” “BGGW.exe, TimeWipe.exe,” etc., etc., etc. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.” Without giving it any thought, Carolyn highlighted the entire folder and entered the administrator’s password.

“Are you sure you want to delete these files?” asked Naomi, her tone one of smooth sweetness.

Carolyn thumbed “Yes.”

With an electronic *''whirrr''*, the patch of brown flesh that had risen to uncover the back access panel swiveled back over it and slid down into place, the seams in Naomi’s dark skin instantly resealing themselves. The receptionist suddenly reassumed her original frozen position, bending back into a 45° angle at the waist, her lips reforming into their “Oh” of surprise, her buttocks bumping up against Carolyn’s crotch as they thrust out once more. Althea, too, seemed to jerk a little, and to say something unintelligable, before resuming her stare into empty space. With a smile, Carolyn brought the white shirt off of Naomi’s head, pulled it down, and pressed it flat against the receptionist’s back with both palms; then she replaced Naomi’s skirt as well, stretching it down as far as it would go, and smoothing out the wrinkles over each bulging, half-covered cheek with her hands.

For a moment Carolyn stood back, her hands on her hips, surveying both of the other androids with a look of satisfaction on her face. Then a certain distractedness, or a kind of mild confusion, appeared to come over her once again. Suddenly bored, she retrieved her Nokia from her purse, and began to play Tetris.

-----

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 1.0|Previous part]] - '''Part II''' - [[Merger 3.0|Next part]]

[[Category:Karel]]
[[Category:Stories]]

Merger 2.0

2012-09-30T16:58:50Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 1.0|Previous part]] - '''Part II''' - [[Merger 3.0|Next part]]

-----

The IRU receptionist was a tall, dark-skinned composite of dozens of actresses, athletes, and supermodels, with a large body designed to incorporate “classic” African oestrogenic features. The overall physical effect was stunning.

Naomi’s striking grey eyes lit up, and her large black lips parted to reveal a dazzling white smile. “Good ''morning''?” she said, “It’s already three in the afternoon, silly!” Her flawless English was coloured by the faintest trace of a Caribbean lilt, like a pinch of jerk spice.

Carolyn and Althea stopped in their tracks a few steps outside the elevator. Althea looked confused. “Is it?” she asked, turning to Carolyn.

“Wow,” said Carolyn, checking the time with her pink Nokia smart phone. “That’s weird. Where did the time go?”

“I don’t know,” said Althea.

“It’s almost time to go home, you two!” said Naomi, getting up from her chair. Her double-D breasts, and even more enormous buttocks, trembled and quaked beneath her crisp, tight white clothes as she walked over, her arms wide open, to greet the girls with a hug. Naomi embraced Althea first. “How are you doing, sister?” she said.

“I’m fine, Naomi,” said Althea, returning the embrace. “Thanks for asking. You must be getting lonely up here, all by yourself!”

“Naaw!” said Naomi. “I like it! Lots of piece and quiet, nobody bothering me.” She ginched up her gorgeous face into a conspiratorial grin. “And that awful Mr. Lesk is gone!”

Althea laughed at that. “That’s right! He was a piece of work, wasn’t he!”

“Always pinching my bottom, every day. ''Nugh''!” said Naomi, shaking her head and sticking out her shockingly long, pink tongue. All three girls suddenly broke into laughter.

“And I don’t think he got his golden parachute, either!” said Carolyn, recovering.

“No, that’s right," said Naomi between breaths. "They hustled him ''right'' out the door.”

The second-floor receptionist gave Carolyn her hug. “How are you, love? I haven’t seen you in ages.”

Carolyn felt the soft pressure of Naomi’s massive breasts pressed against her own as she reached around the robot’s white dress shirt. “I’m good, Naomi. Great to see you.”

The receptionist android straightened up, brushed a few strands of hair away from her ghostly grey eyes, and stared intently into Carolyn’s, holding both of the other android’s hands in its own. “Why haven’t you girls been coming by my way?”

“Oh, well, you know,” said Carolyn. “They just keep sending us more work for the rebranding.”

“Oh, I know!” said Naomi. “It’s unbelievable, isn’t it? Such a huge change!”

Carolyn and Althea nodded. “I think it’ll be good though, when it’s finished,” said Althea.

“Oh, me too, me too,” said Naomi, nodding herself. “A new look.”

Althea began stroking the fingers of her right hand through Naomi’s shiny, immaculately straightened jet-black hair; none of the girls, Althea included, seemed to notice. “Have any of the new big wigs from Emirati come by yet?” asked Althea.

Naomi shook her head. “No, not yet. Hey,” she said, turning to Carolyn, “Why don’t you come over to my place tonight? It’s been forever since we’ve had a girls’ night out!”

“I’d love to!” said Carolyn, smiling. Then her smile faded a little, and her eyes seemed to cross in puzzlement. She pressed her pink index finger to her lower lip, as if searching for something in her memory. “Hmm…” she said. “Except… I don’t know, I feel like I’m already doing something tonight.”

“Oh?” said Naomi, a look of mild disappointment coming over her beautiful face.

With a barely audible *''click''*, Althea, looking suddenly distracted and unfocused, pulled back the clear-glossed nail of her right index finger.

“Yeah,” said Carolyn. “Weird. It’s just a feeling, but I can’t think of what it could be.” The android gave a nervous laugh. “Don’t you just hate when that happens?”

In what seemed almost like a single swift and fluid motion, Althea’s left hand lifted Naomi’s silky hair off of Naomi’s left ear, while the index finger of her right hand, eSATAp cable protruding, jabbed in behind the ear. The receptionist unit’s facial expression immediately froze in place, lips locked in a curious “Oh?” that now resembled an expression of surprise, and an audible *''beep''* could be heard as Naomi seemed to suddenly bend forward, thrusting out her buttocks, her arms falling away from Carolyn’s and locking at the elbows a few inches down. Naomi froze in that awkward position like a statue.

Carolyn appeared to observe this without comment, an impassive expression on her face. As the receptionist unit’s hands fell away from her own she reached out to lay her palms against Naomi’s upper arms instead, and then tilted her head, as if curious as to why she had done so. She looked into Naomi’s frozen grey eyes and took in the seemingly shocked look on the other android’s face, but no thoughts in particular arose from this. Then her eyes drifted down toward the other android’s ample cleavage, which she could now view from the perfect angle. ''Naomi really does have nice breasts,'' said Carolyn to herself. ''I’ve said it to her before, but I should really say it again. It’s better that she hears it from us girls rather than the pigs who work here.''
Slowly, and for no particular reason, Carolyn moved her palms up Naomi’s arms to the receptionist’s shoulders and closed her hands around them. Then she seemed to think of something. She moved in closer toward the receptionist android, and felt Naomi’s circular lips press into her shoulder, and Naomi’s fine breasts pressed against her upper stomach. Carolyn then dragged her hands down Naomi’s backside, to the pressed white mini-skirt that was now lifted well above the dark flesh of the receptionist’s gluteals. She tried to close her hands around Naomi’s cheeks, attempting to cup one in each palm, and found that she could not do it, and that her fingers were still several inches apart. Each smooth protuberance was hard as a rock, all the artificial flesh frozen in place. Carolyn giggled. “Hey Althea!” she said.

Althea appeared to hear Carolyn. The other android, with her right arm now locked in a rigid karate chop gesture less than a foot from the receptionist’s ear, turned her head and upper body toward Carolyn in jerks and insect-like motions, the eSATAp cable spooling out from her index finger to cover the extra few inches from Naomi. Althea’s face was completely lifeless, without expression, but on facing Carolyn the corners of her mouth turned up for a few seconds in a mechanical way and formed a kind of artificial smile. Then they dropped again, and Althea jerked away from facing Carolyn to go back to staring into empty space.

Carolyn unclasped her hands, straightened up, and appeared to lose interest in talking to Althea. She brushed a blonde strand of hair out of her eyes and patted her shirt where Naomi’s lips had touched it. Then she slowly walked around the frozen receptionist, and looked at where her hands had been. Her eyes flitted from Naomi to Althea and back again. ''Hmm'', she said to herself. ''Same'' shape, ''though.''

With her body bent at a 45° angle, Naomi’s miniskirt was now hiked nearly halfway up her backside, leaving very little to the imagination. The receptionist robot appeared not to be wearing panties. Carolyn sighed, reached out, and rolled the skin-tight skirt up the rest of the way to check. Nope. No panties. ''Why does she dress like this?'' thought Carolyn, surveying the other android’s bare ass. ''She just encourages them!''

All of a sudden the receptionist seemed to start up, jerking into an upright position with a *''beep''*. Carolyn, startled, let go of Naomi’s skirt, which remained folded up over the curve of the other android’s buttocks, stretched like an elastic band. A square patch of the secretary’s shirt, between her shoulderblades, seemed to rise up, and then to move under the fabric in a circular motion, as if turning on a screw; an electric grow, now uncovered, emanated from the area where it had arisen. Naomi suddenly spoke: “Attention,” she said, her West Indian accent now slightly more prominent, “You must be an administrator to alter these files.”

Carolyn tried to lift Naomi’s arms to peel her shirt over her head, but found that they remained frozen by her sides, so after rolling up the other robot’s shirt to reveal a back access panel Carolyn simply stretched it over the receptionist’s head like a hoodie to hold it in place. “Attention,” Naomi repeated, “You must be an administrator to alter these files.”

Carolyn looked at the touchscreen panel, on which a previously hidden file folder was now highlighted. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.” Both Carolyn and Althea had been given all of the necessary administrator passwords, but Althea, now operating merely as a computer conduit, was not presently able to recall and input them manually, as was now demanded by the password prompt screen displayed on Naomi’s back panel. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.”

Carolyn frowned. The screen had only come up because the folder was hidden on a virtual drive that should have been empty. It was marked “@LEsk_69”. She thumbed it open. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.” The folder just seemed to contain random off-licence personality apps: Carolyn saw a bunch of programs with labels like “SuperSodomyv11.exe”, “Sodomy69.exe”, “FinalFellatio.exe,” “Ulti_Fellatio.exe,” “AbsolutAnal.exe,” “BGGW.exe, TimeWipe.exe,” etc., etc., etc. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.” Without giving it any thought, Carolyn highlighted the entire folder and entered the administrator’s password.

“Are you sure you want to delete these files?” asked Naomi, her tone one of smooth sweetness.

Carolyn thumbed “Yes.”

With an electronic *''whirrr''*, the patch of brown flesh that had risen to uncover the back access panel swiveled back over it and slid down into place, the seams in Naomi’s dark skin instantly resealing themselves. The receptionist suddenly reassumed her original frozen position, bending back into a 45° angle at the waist, her lips reforming into their “Oh” of surprise, her buttocks bumping up against Carolyn’s crotch as they thrust out once more. Althea, too, seemed to jerk a little, and to say something unintelligable, before resuming her stare into empty space. With a smile, Carolyn brought the white shirt off of Naomi’s head, pulled it down, and pressed it flat against the receptionist’s back with both palms; then she replaced Naomi’s skirt as well, stretching it down as far as it would go, and smoothing out the wrinkles over each bulging, half-covered cheek with her hands.

For a moment Carolyn stood back, her hands on her hips, surveying both of the other androids with a look of satisfaction on her face. Then a certain distractedness, or a kind of mild confusion, appeared to come over her once again. Suddenly bored, she retrieved her Nokia from her purse, and began to play Tetris.

-----

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 1.0|Previous part]] - '''Part II''' - [[Merger 3.0|Next part]]

[[Category:Karel]]
[[Category:Stories]]

Merger 2.0

2012-09-30T16:55:26Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 1.0|Previous part]] - '''Part II''' - [[Merger 3.0|Next part]]

-----

The IRU receptionist was a tall, dark-skinned composite of dozens of actresses, athletes, and supermodels, with a large body designed to incorporate “classic” African oestrogenic features. The overall physical effect was stunning.

Naomi’s striking grey eyes lit up, and her large black lips parted to reveal a dazzling white smile. “Good ''morning''?” she said, “It’s already three in the afternoon, silly!” Her flawless English was coloured by the faintest trace of a Caribbean lilt, like a pinch of jerk spice.

Carolyn and Althea stopped in their tracks a few steps outside the elevator. Althea looked confused. “Is it?” she asked, turning to Carolyn.

“Wow,” said Carolyn, checking the time with her pink Nokia smart phone. “That’s weird. Where did the time go?”

“I don’t know,” said Althea.

“It’s almost time to go home, you two!” said Naomi, getting up from her chair. Her double-D breasts, and even more enormous buttocks, trembled and quaked beneath her crisp, tight white clothes as she walked over, her arms wide open, to greet the girls with a hug. Naomi embraced Althea first. “How are you doing, sister?” she said.

“I’m fine, Naomi,” said Althea, returning the embrace. “Thanks for asking. You must be getting lonely up here, all by yourself!”

“Naaw!” said Naomi. “I like it! Lots of piece and quiet, nobody bothering me.” She ginched up her gorgeous face into a conspiratorial grin. “And that awful Mr. Lesk is gone!”

Althea laughed at that. “That’s right! He was a piece of work, wasn’t he!”

“Always pinching my bottom, every day. ''Nugh''!” said Naomi, shaking her head and sticking out her shockingly long, pink tongue. All three girls suddenly broke into laughter.

“And I don’t think he got his golden parachute, either!” said Carolyn, recovering.

“No, that’s right," said Naomi between breaths. "They hustled him ''right'' out the door.”

The second-floor receptionist gave Carolyn her hug. “How are you, love? I haven’t seen you in ages.”

Carolyn felt the soft pressure of Naomi’s massive breasts pressed against her own as she reached around the robot’s white dress shirt. “I’m good, Naomi. Great to see you.”

The receptionist android straightened up, brushed a few strands of hair away from her ghostly grey eyes, and stared intently into Carolyn’s, holding both of the other android’s hands in its own. “Why haven’t you girls been coming by my way?”

“Oh, well, you know,” said Carolyn. “They just keep sending us more work for the rebranding.”

“Oh, I know!” said Naomi. “It’s unbelievable, isn’t it? Such a huge change!”

Carolyn and Althea nodded. “I think it’ll be good though, when it’s finished,” said Althea.

“Oh, me too, me too,” said Naomi, nodding herself. “A new look.”

Althea began stroking the fingers of her right hand through Naomi’s shiny, immaculately straightened jet-black hair; none of the girls, Althea included, seemed to notice. “Have any of the new big wigs from Emirati come by yet?” asked Althea.

Naomi shook her head. “No, not yet. Hey,” she said, turning to Carolyn, “Why don’t you come over to my place tonight? It’s been forever since we’ve had a girls’ night out!”

“I’d love to!” said Carolyn, smiling. Then her smile faded a little, and her eyes seemed to cross in puzzlement. She pressed her pink index finger to her lower lip, as if searching for something in her memory. “Hmm…” she said. “Except… I don’t know, I feel like I’m already doing something tonight.”

“Oh?” said Naomi, a look of mild disappointment coming over her beautiful face.

With a barely audible *''click''*, Althea, looking suddenly distracted and unfocused, pulled back the clear-glossed nail of her right index finger.

“Yeah,” said Carolyn. “Weird. It’s just a feeling, but I can’t think of what it could be.” The android gave a nervous laugh. “Don’t you just hate when that happens?”

In what seemed almost like a single swift and fluid motion, Althea’s left hand lifted Naomi’s silky hair off of Naomi’s left ear, while the index finger of her right hand, eSATAp cable protruding, jabbed in behind the ear. The receptionist unit’s facial expression immediately froze in place, lips locked in a curious “Oh?” that now resembled an expression of surprise, and an audible *''beep''* could be heard as Naomi seemed to suddenly bend forward, thrusting out her buttocks, her arms falling away from Carolyn’s and locking at the elbows a few inches down. Naomi froze in that awkward position like a statue.

Carolyn appeared to observe this without comment, an impassive expression on her face. As the receptionist unit’s hands fell away from her own she reached out to lay her palms against Naomi’s upper arms instead, and then tilted her head, as if curious as to why she had done so. She looked into Naomi’s frozen grey eyes and took in the seemingly shocked look on the other android’s face, but no thoughts in particular arose from this. Then her eyes drifted down toward the other android’s ample cleavage, which she could now view from the perfect angle. Naomi really does have nice breasts, said Carolyn to herself. I’ve said it to her before, but I should really say it again. It’s better that she hears it from us girls rather than the pigs who work here.

Slowly, and for no particular reason, Carolyn moved her palms up Naomi’s arms to the receptionist’s shoulders and closed her hands around them. Then she seemed to think of something. She moved in closer toward the receptionist android, and felt Naomi’s circular lips press into her shoulder, and Naomi’s fine breasts pressed against her upper stomach. Carolyn then dragged her hands down Naomi’s backside, to the pressed white mini-skirt that was now lifted well above the dark flesh of the receptionist’s gluteals. She tried to close her hands around Naomi’s cheeks, attempting to cup one in each palm, and found that she could not do it, and that her fingers were still several inches apart. Each smooth protuberance was hard as a rock, all the artificial flesh frozen in place. Carolyn giggled. “Hey Althea!” she said.

Althea appeared to hear Carolyn. The other android, with her right arm now locked in a rigid karate chop gesture less than a foot from the receptionist’s ear, turned her head and upper body toward Carolyn in jerks and insect-like motions, the eSATAp cable spooling out from her index finger to cover the extra few inches from Naomi. Althea’s face was completely lifeless, without expression, but on facing Carolyn the corners of her mouth turned up for a few seconds in a mechanical way and formed a kind of artificial smile. Then they dropped again, and Althea jerked away from facing Carolyn to go back to staring into empty space.

Carolyn unclasped her hands, straightened up, and appeared to lose interest in talking to Althea. She brushed a blonde strand of hair out of her eyes and patted her shirt where Naomi’s lips had touched it. Then she slowly walked around the frozen receptionist, and looked at where her hands had been. Her eyes flitted from Naomi to Althea and back again. ''Hmm'', she said to herself. ''Same'' shape, ''though.''

With her body bent at a 45° angle, Naomi’s miniskirt was now hiked nearly halfway up her backside, leaving very little to the imagination. The receptionist robot appeared not to be wearing panties. Carolyn sighed, reached out, and rolled the skin-tight skirt up the rest of the way to check. Nope. No panties. ''Why does she dress like this?'' thought Carolyn, surveying the other android’s bare ass. ''She just encourages them!''

All of a sudden the receptionist seemed to start up, jerking into an upright position with a *''beep''*. Carolyn, startled, let go of Naomi’s skirt, which remained folded up over the curve of the other android’s buttocks, stretched like an elastic band. A square patch of the secretary’s shirt, between her shoulderblades, seemed to rise up, and then to move under the fabric in a circular motion, as if turning on a screw; an electric grow, now uncovered, emanated from the area where it had arisen. Naomi suddenly spoke: “Attention,” she said, her West Indian accent now slightly more prominent, “You must be an administrator to alter these files.”

Carolyn tried to lift Naomi’s arms to peel her shirt over her head, but found that they remained frozen by her sides, so after rolling up the other robot’s shirt to reveal a back access panel Carolyn simply stretched it over the receptionist’s head like a hoodie to hold it in place. “Attention,” Naomi repeated, “You must be an administrator to alter these files.”

Carolyn looked at the touchscreen panel, on which a previously hidden file folder was now highlighted. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.” Both Carolyn and Althea had been given all of the necessary administrator passwords, but Althea, now operating merely as a computer conduit, was not presently able to recall and input them manually, as was now demanded by the password prompt screen displayed on Naomi’s back panel. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.”

Carolyn frowned. The screen had only come up because the folder was hidden on a virtual drive that should have been empty. It was marked “@LEsk_69”. She thumbed it open. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.” The folder just seemed to contain random off-licence personality apps: Carolyn saw a bunch of programs with labels like “SuperSodomyv11.exe”, “Sodomy69.exe”, “FinalFellatio.exe,” “Ulti_Fellatio.exe,” “AbsolutAnal.exe,” “BGGW.exe, TimeWipe.exe,” etc., etc., etc. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.” Without giving it any thought, Carolyn highlighted the entire folder and entered the administrator’s password.

“Are you sure you want to delete these files?” asked Naomi, her tone one of smooth sweetness.

Carolyn thumbed “Yes.”

With an electronic *''whirrr''*, the patch of brown flesh that had risen to uncover the back access panel swiveled back over it and slid down into place, the seams in Naomi’s dark skin instantly resealing themselves. The receptionist suddenly reassumed her original frozen position, bending back into a 45° angle at the waist, her lips reforming into their “Oh” of surprise, her buttocks bumping up against Carolyn’s crotch as they thrust out once more. Althea, too, seemed to jerk a little, and to say something unintelligable, before resuming her stare into empty space. With a smile, Carolyn brought the white shirt off of Naomi’s head, pulled it down, and pressed it flat against the receptionist’s back with both palms; then she replaced Naomi’s skirt as well, stretching it down as far as it would go, and smoothing out the wrinkles over each bulging, half-covered cheek with her hands.

For a moment Carolyn stood back, her hands on her hips, surveying both of the other androids with a look of satisfaction on her face. Then a certain distractedness, or a kind of mild confusion, appeared to come over her once again. Suddenly bored, she retrieved her Nokia from her purse, and began to play Tetris.

-----

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 1.0|Previous part]] - '''Part II''' - [[Merger 3.0|Next part]]

[[Category:Karel]]
[[Category:Stories]]

Merger

2012-09-30T16:54:36Z

Karel:

● ● ●

''Have been so frustrated by what has been on offer as of late that I have been compelled to write a new story, for the first time in years. I can think of a few people who should enjoy this, and I don't much care who doesn't.''

- Karel

==Merger==
By [[User:Karel|Karel]] (©2012)

#[[Merger 1.0]]
#[[Merger 2.0]]
#[[Merger 3.0]]
#[[Merger 4.0]]
#[[Merger 5.0]]
#[[Merger 6.0]]

-----

[[Stories|Back to the story archive]]

[[Category:Karel]]
[[Category:Features]]
[[Category:Stories]]

Merger 6.0

2012-09-30T16:50:00Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 5.0|Previous part]] - '''Part VI''' - [[Merger 7.0|Next part]]

-----

● ● ●

Its review complete, the JYC mainframe deleted the cached memory of the VG2771 unit and reinitialized its systems. The unit would return to the remaining tasks timetabled as part of the rebranding operation, purged of any record of those it had already performed or of any elements associated with them. A single record would remain on the mainframe, ready for upload to Emirati Home Office as soon as the transoceanic fibre-optic links reopened in five hours’ time. The central computer slowly powered down its dedicated personality and human emulation processors, and the second Joyce hologram, now reduced to a mute and mindless image, vanished like its predecessor.

● ● ●

There was a brief sound like a typewriter and a loud *''beep''*, and Carolyn jerked back to life. “-get ri…” she said, before trailing off and forgetting that she had said anything at all. The bubble wrap rustled in her hands as her fingers unclenched. She turned around and saw the HY3001 standing at attention, its pearly white teeth aglare, its protuberant breasts perked up with their cellophane pasties. She frowned.

''Another one of these?'' she thought. ''Damn, I thought I was done already.''

Carolyn reached into the carrying case conveniently spread out on the desk in front of her and selected the third-largest buttplug. It should really have been the fourth largest, but the second largest appeared to have gone missing. In any case, she stretched a pair of latex gloves over her fingers and used them to rub the lubricating antibacterial gel over the surface of the plug. ''I can’t believe I'm doing this all by myself'', she said to herself. ''They really should have gotten some more staff in for this.''

She turned to face the placid android. “HY3001,” she said, “Bend over.”

“Of course,” said the android. It obligingly stuck out its wide, smooth, hairless behind.

● ● ●

The pubis resembled a small, well trimmed patch of copper wire, cropped in a close “V” over the HY3001’s vulva. Something about it commanded Carolyn’s attention. She stood, staring at it, her plaster-smeared fingers poking at the curls around the edges, as if trying to glean its significance.

Then the moment passed, and she swiped crudely over the snatch with a great glob of water-soluble goo.

As her fingers rubbed the paste between the kinky strands they frequently found their way on top of the prominent bulge of the clitoris, and worked it between them as well, lingering over it, pinching it between the index and middle fingers, or between the index finger and thumb. Carolyn’s motions were slow and rhythmic, and her tongue occasionally darted between her lips as she stared into the frozen android’s lifeless eyes.

The HY3001 stared dumbly back at her, its hair tied back in a plaster-smeared, slowly-hardening ponytail, its broad, beaming mouth filled by a clear plastic mouthguard that beckoned Carolyn’s darting tongue. Carolyn licked the android’s lips as well as her own as her pinky finger prodded the double-headed dildo embedded in its snatch-

'''WARNING!'''

There was an angry electronic noise as a square portion of Carolyn’s back lifted up between her shoulder blades; this time, however, it did not twist around, but remained in place above the LCD panel below. Carolyn did not appear to notice, but she instantly broke off her near-kiss, and wiped down the last of the pubic hairs with a swift and efficient flourish. Then she took off her gloves and stood back, hands on hips, to admire her handiwork.

''I seem to have become quite the expert on pussy,'' she thought with a smile.

With a slightly less angry noise, the protruding square on Carolyn’s back withdrew back into her body.

Her work all but complete, Carolyn grabbed the HY3001’s shoulders and bent it onto one foot, effortlessly pivoting more than gynoid's heavy mass around in a circle before setting it back down with a *''thump''*. A mild shudder passed upwards through the android’s flesh as its second sole struck the floor again, shaking its breasts, buttocks, thighs and calves.

Reaching for the exposed LCD panel between its shoulderblades, Carolyn quickly and efficiently thumbed in the desired commands.

'''INITIATE COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN.'''

'''WARNING: COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN WILL RESULT IN TOTAL ERASURE OF ALL PROGRAMS AND DATA. ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO CONTINUE? YES. NO.'''

'''YES.'''

'''COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN INITIATED. CANCEL? YES. NO.'''

'''5.'''

'''4.'''

'''3.'''

'''2.'''

'''1.'''

'''GOODBYE.'''

“Fiftem Fhutting Down. Good-bye,” said HY3001 FM247, perky as ever. Then its warm brown eyes closed, its lips sealed up, and its head and body tilted forward with a *''hissss''* of hydraulics before freezing in place, with a tiny bounce. The square patch of flesh suspended over its back twisted back over the rear LCD panel with a *''whirr''* and slid down into its slot, and the android did not move again.

Carolyn then set about mummifying the other robot in plastic. She took one last look at its still, motionless face, then swiftly covered it in bubble wrap, and wrapped a halo-hoop of tape in a crown around the android's head to hold it in place. When she was finished, she slung the HY3001 effortlessly over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and carried it without the least bit of exertion to the corner of the room, where she plopped it down on top of a pile of six similarly wrapped and stacked bundles. Carolyn did not find her newfound strength the least bit interesting; nor did she remember noticing the pile of plastic-wrapped bundles in the corner. In fact she did not think about either of these things now, either, nor even remember them after she had set down her own package. Once she had turned away there was no reason to turn back. She was done.

''Finally!'' she said to herself, snatching her phone and purse off the desk, and already thinking about the Intervision program she had been planning to watch tonight. ''If I make it home in fifteen minutes,'' she calculated, turning to her phone to check the time, ''I should just be able to catch the end of-''

And with that, the JYC mainframe, sensing that all timetabled events were complete, placed the entire building in energy-saving mode, powering down all non-essential apparatus. The lights clicked off, automatic doors slid shut, and Carolyn froze in her tracks, her clenching hand cracking the screen and pink shell casing of her smartphone. Her expression blanked out, her eyes taking on a glassy appearance; then the servos in her jaw triggered and automatically released tension, causing the jaw to go slack and the mouth to open, giving her a slightly dumbfounded look. Her posture slouched and her arms swung listlessly by her sides for a moment before everything went completely stiff and still.

She remained there in the dark, a few short steps away from the elevator door.

-----

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 5.0|Previous part]] - '''Part VI''' - [[Merger 7.0|Next part]]

Merger 6.0

2012-09-30T16:49:44Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 5.0|Previous part]] - '''Part VI''' - [[Merger 7.0|Next part]]

-----

● ● ●

Its review complete, the JYC mainframe deleted the cached memory of the VG2771 unit and reinitialized its systems. The unit would return to the remaining tasks timetabled as part of the rebranding operation, purged of any record of those it had already performed or of any elements associated with them. A single record would remain on the mainframe, ready for upload to Emirati Home Office as soon as the transoceanic fibre-optic links reopened in five hours’ time. The central computer slowly powered down its dedicated personality and human emulation processors, and the second Joyce hologram, now reduced to a mute and mindless image, vanished like its predecessor.

● ● ●

There was a brief sound like a typewriter and a loud *beep*, and Carolyn jerked back to life. “-get ri…” she said, before trailing off and forgetting that she had said anything at all. The bubble wrap rustled in her hands as her fingers unclenched. She turned around and saw the HY3001 standing at attention, its pearly white teeth aglare, its protuberant breasts perked up with their cellophane pasties. She frowned.

''Another one of these?'' she thought. ''Damn, I thought I was done already.''

Carolyn reached into the carrying case conveniently spread out on the desk in front of her and selected the third-largest buttplug. It should really have been the fourth largest, but the second largest appeared to have gone missing. In any case, she stretched a pair of latex gloves over her fingers and used them to rub the lubricating antibacterial gel over the surface of the plug. ''I can’t believe I'm doing this all by myself'', she said to herself. ''They really should have gotten some more staff in for this.''

She turned to face the placid android. “HY3001,” she said, “Bend over.”

“Of course,” said the android. It obligingly stuck out its wide, smooth, hairless behind.

● ● ●

The pubis resembled a small, well trimmed patch of copper wire, cropped in a close “V” over the HY3001’s vulva. Something about it commanded Carolyn’s attention. She stood, staring at it, her plaster-smeared fingers poking at the curls around the edges, as if trying to glean its significance.

Then the moment passed, and she swiped crudely over the snatch with a great glob of water-soluble goo.

As her fingers rubbed the paste between the kinky strands they frequently found their way on top of the prominent bulge of the clitoris, and worked it between them as well, lingering over it, pinching it between the index and middle fingers, or between the index finger and thumb. Carolyn’s motions were slow and rhythmic, and her tongue occasionally darted between her lips as she stared into the frozen android’s lifeless eyes.

The HY3001 stared dumbly back at her, its hair tied back in a plaster-smeared, slowly-hardening ponytail, its broad, beaming mouth filled by a clear plastic mouthguard that beckoned Carolyn’s darting tongue. Carolyn licked the android’s lips as well as her own as her pinky finger prodded the double-headed dildo embedded in its snatch-

'''WARNING!'''

There was an angry electronic noise as a square portion of Carolyn’s back lifted up between her shoulder blades; this time, however, it did not twist around, but remained in place above the LCD panel below. Carolyn did not appear to notice, but she instantly broke off her near-kiss, and wiped down the last of the pubic hairs with a swift and efficient flourish. Then she took off her gloves and stood back, hands on hips, to admire her handiwork.

''I seem to have become quite the expert on pussy,'' she thought with a smile.

With a slightly less angry noise, the protruding square on Carolyn’s back withdrew back into her body.

Her work all but complete, Carolyn grabbed the HY3001’s shoulders and bent it onto one foot, effortlessly pivoting more than gynoid's heavy mass around in a circle before setting it back down with a *''thump''*. A mild shudder passed upwards through the android’s flesh as its second sole struck the floor again, shaking its breasts, buttocks, thighs and calves.

Reaching for the exposed LCD panel between its shoulderblades, Carolyn quickly and efficiently thumbed in the desired commands.

'''INITIATE COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN.'''

'''WARNING: COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN WILL RESULT IN TOTAL ERASURE OF ALL PROGRAMS AND DATA. ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO CONTINUE? YES. NO.'''

'''YES.'''

'''COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN INITIATED. CANCEL? YES. NO.'''

'''5.'''

'''4.'''

'''3.'''

'''2.'''

'''1.'''

'''GOODBYE.'''

“Fiftem Fhutting Down. Good-bye,” said HY3001 FM247, perky as ever. Then its warm brown eyes closed, its lips sealed up, and its head and body tilted forward with a *''hissss''* of hydraulics before freezing in place, with a tiny bounce. The square patch of flesh suspended over its back twisted back over the rear LCD panel with a *''whirr''* and slid down into its slot, and the android did not move again.

Carolyn then set about mummifying the other robot in plastic. She took one last look at its still, motionless face, then swiftly covered it in bubble wrap, and wrapped a halo-hoop of tape in a crown around the android's head to hold it in place. When she was finished, she slung the HY3001 effortlessly over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and carried it without the least bit of exertion to the corner of the room, where she plopped it down on top of a pile of six similarly wrapped and stacked bundles. Carolyn did not find her newfound strength the least bit interesting; nor did she remember noticing the pile of plastic-wrapped bundles in the corner. In fact she did not think about either of these things now, either, nor even remember them after she had set down her own package. Once she had turned away there was no reason to turn back. She was done.

''Finally!'' she said to herself, snatching her phone and purse off the desk, and already thinking about the Intervision program she had been planning to watch tonight. ''If I make it home in fifteen minutes,'' she calculated, turning to her phone to check the time, ''I should just be able to catch the end of-''

And with that, the JYC mainframe, sensing that all timetabled events were complete, placed the entire building in energy-saving mode, powering down all non-essential apparatus. The lights clicked off, automatic doors slid shut, and Carolyn froze in her tracks, her clenching hand cracking the screen and pink shell casing of her smartphone. Her expression blanked out, her eyes taking on a glassy appearance; then the servos in her jaw triggered and automatically released tension, causing the jaw to go slack and the mouth to open, giving her a slightly dumbfounded look. Her posture slouched and her arms swung listlessly by her sides for a moment before everything went completely stiff and still.

She remained there in the dark, a few short steps away from the elevator door.

-----

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 5.0|Previous part]] - '''Part VI''' - [[Merger 7.0|Next part]]

Merger 6.0

2012-09-30T16:49:25Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 5.0|Previous part]] - '''Part VI''' - [[Merger 7.0|Next part]]

-----

● ● ●

Its review complete, the JYC mainframe deleted the cached memory of the VG2771 unit and reinitialized its systems. The unit would return to the remaining tasks timetabled as part of the rebranding operation, purged of any record of those it had already performed or of any elements associated with them. A single record would remain on the mainframe, ready for upload to Emirati Home Office as soon as the transoceanic fibre-optic links reopened in five hours’ time. The central computer slowly powered down its dedicated personality and human emulation processors, and the second Joyce hologram, now reduced to a mute and mindless image, vanished like its predecessor.

● ● ●

There was a brief sound like a typewriter and a loud *beep*, and Carolyn jerked back to life. “-get ri…” she said, before trailing off and forgetting that she had said anything at all. The bubble wrap rustled in her hands as her fingers unclenched. She turned around and saw the HY3001 standing at attention, its pearly white teeth aglare, its protuberant breasts perked up with their cellophane pasties. She frowned.

''Another one of these?'' she thought. ''Damn, I thought I was done already.''

Carolyn reached into the carrying case conveniently spread out on the desk in front of her and selected the third-largest buttplug. It should really have been the fourth largest, but the second largest appeared to have gone missing. In any case, she stretched a pair of latex gloves over her fingers and used them to rub the lubricating antibacterial gel over the surface of the plug. ''I can’t believe I'm doing this all by myself'', she said to herself, ''They really should have gotten some more staff in for this.''

She turned to face the placid android. “HY3001,” she said, “Bend over.”

“Of course,” said the android. It obligingly stuck out its wide, smooth, hairless behind.

● ● ●

The pubis resembled a small, well trimmed patch of copper wire, cropped in a close “V” over the HY3001’s vulva. Something about it commanded Carolyn’s attention. She stood, staring at it, her plaster-smeared fingers poking at the curls around the edges, as if trying to glean its significance.

Then the moment passed, and she swiped crudely over the snatch with a great glob of water-soluble goo.

As her fingers rubbed the paste between the kinky strands they frequently found their way on top of the prominent bulge of the clitoris, and worked it between them as well, lingering over it, pinching it between the index and middle fingers, or between the index finger and thumb. Carolyn’s motions were slow and rhythmic, and her tongue occasionally darted between her lips as she stared into the frozen android’s lifeless eyes.

The HY3001 stared dumbly back at her, its hair tied back in a plaster-smeared, slowly-hardening ponytail, its broad, beaming mouth filled by a clear plastic mouthguard that beckoned Carolyn’s darting tongue. Carolyn licked the android’s lips as well as her own as her pinky finger prodded the double-headed dildo embedded in its snatch-

'''WARNING!'''

There was an angry electronic noise as a square portion of Carolyn’s back lifted up between her shoulder blades; this time, however, it did not twist around, but remained in place above the LCD panel below. Carolyn did not appear to notice, but she instantly broke off her near-kiss, and wiped down the last of the pubic hairs with a swift and efficient flourish. Then she took off her gloves and stood back, hands on hips, to admire her handiwork.

''I seem to have become quite the expert on pussy,'' she thought with a smile.

With a slightly less angry noise, the protruding square on Carolyn’s back withdrew back into her body.

Her work all but complete, Carolyn grabbed the HY3001’s shoulders and bent it onto one foot, effortlessly pivoting more than gynoid's heavy mass around in a circle before setting it back down with a *''thump''*. A mild shudder passed upwards through the android’s flesh as its second sole struck the floor again, shaking its breasts, buttocks, thighs and calves.

Reaching for the exposed LCD panel between its shoulderblades, Carolyn quickly and efficiently thumbed in the desired commands.

'''INITIATE COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN.'''

'''WARNING: COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN WILL RESULT IN TOTAL ERASURE OF ALL PROGRAMS AND DATA. ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO CONTINUE? YES. NO.'''

'''YES.'''

'''COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN INITIATED. CANCEL? YES. NO.'''

'''5.'''

'''4.'''

'''3.'''

'''2.'''

'''1.'''

'''GOODBYE.'''

“Fiftem Fhutting Down. Good-bye,” said HY3001 FM247, perky as ever. Then its warm brown eyes closed, its lips sealed up, and its head and body tilted forward with a *''hissss''* of hydraulics before freezing in place, with a tiny bounce. The square patch of flesh suspended over its back twisted back over the rear LCD panel with a *''whirr''* and slid down into its slot, and the android did not move again.

Carolyn then set about mummifying the other robot in plastic. She took one last look at its still, motionless face, then swiftly covered it in bubble wrap, and wrapped a halo-hoop of tape in a crown around the android's head to hold it in place. When she was finished, she slung the HY3001 effortlessly over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and carried it without the least bit of exertion to the corner of the room, where she plopped it down on top of a pile of six similarly wrapped and stacked bundles. Carolyn did not find her newfound strength the least bit interesting; nor did she remember noticing the pile of plastic-wrapped bundles in the corner. In fact she did not think about either of these things now, either, nor even remember them after she had set down her own package. Once she had turned away there was no reason to turn back. She was done.

''Finally!'' she said to herself, snatching her phone and purse off the desk, and already thinking about the Intervision program she had been planning to watch tonight. ''If I make it home in fifteen minutes,'' she calculated, turning to her phone to check the time, ''I should just be able to catch the end of-''

And with that, the JYC mainframe, sensing that all timetabled events were complete, placed the entire building in energy-saving mode, powering down all non-essential apparatus. The lights clicked off, automatic doors slid shut, and Carolyn froze in her tracks, her clenching hand cracking the screen and pink shell casing of her smartphone. Her expression blanked out, her eyes taking on a glassy appearance; then the servos in her jaw triggered and automatically released tension, causing the jaw to go slack and the mouth to open, giving her a slightly dumbfounded look. Her posture slouched and her arms swung listlessly by her sides for a moment before everything went completely stiff and still.

She remained there in the dark, a few short steps away from the elevator door.

-----

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 5.0|Previous part]] - '''Part VI''' - [[Merger 7.0|Next part]]

Merger 6.0

2012-09-30T16:48:58Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 5.0|Previous part]] - '''Part VI''' - [[Merger 7.0|Next part]]

-----

● ● ●

Its review complete, the JYC mainframe deleted the cached memory of the VG2771 unit and reinitialized its systems. The unit would return to the remaining tasks timetabled as part of the rebranding operation, purged of any record of those it had already performed or of any elements associated with them. A single record would remain on the mainframe, ready for upload to Emirati Home Office as soon as the transoceanic fibre-optic links reopened in five hours’ time. The central computer slowly powered down its dedicated personality and human emulation processors, and the second Joyce hologram, now reduced to a mute and mindless image, vanished like its predecessor.

● ● ●

There was a brief sound like a typewriter and a loud *beep*, and Carolyn jerked back to life. “-get ri…” she said, before trailing off and forgetting that she had said anything at all. The bubble wrap rustled in her hands as her fingers unclenched. She turned around and saw the HY3001 standing at attention, its pearly white teeth aglare, its protuberant breasts perked up with their cellophane pasties. She frowned.

''Another one of these?'' she thought. ''Damn, I thought I was done already.''

Carolyn reached into the carrying case conveniently spread out on the desk in front of her and selected the third-largest buttplug. It should really have been the fourth largest, but the second largest appeared to have gone missing. In any case, she stretched a pair of latex gloves over her fingers and used them to rub the lubricating antibacterial gel over the surface of the plug. ''I can’t believe I'm the only one they have in here doing this'', she said to herself, ''They really should have gotten some more staff in for this.''

She turned to face the placid android. “HY3001,” she said, “Bend over.”

“Of course,” said the android. It obligingly stuck out its wide, smooth, hairless behind.

● ● ●

The pubis resembled a small, well trimmed patch of copper wire, cropped in a close “V” over the HY3001’s vulva. Something about it commanded Carolyn’s attention. She stood, staring at it, her plaster-smeared fingers poking at the curls around the edges, as if trying to glean its significance.

Then the moment passed, and she swiped crudely over the snatch with a great glob of water-soluble goo.

As her fingers rubbed the paste between the kinky strands they frequently found their way on top of the prominent bulge of the clitoris, and worked it between them as well, lingering over it, pinching it between the index and middle fingers, or between the index finger and thumb. Carolyn’s motions were slow and rhythmic, and her tongue occasionally darted between her lips as she stared into the frozen android’s lifeless eyes.

The HY3001 stared dumbly back at her, its hair tied back in a plaster-smeared, slowly-hardening ponytail, its broad, beaming mouth filled by a clear plastic mouthguard that beckoned Carolyn’s darting tongue. Carolyn licked the android’s lips as well as her own as her pinky finger prodded the double-headed dildo embedded in its snatch-

'''WARNING!'''

There was an angry electronic noise as a square portion of Carolyn’s back lifted up between her shoulder blades; this time, however, it did not twist around, but remained in place above the LCD panel below. Carolyn did not appear to notice, but she instantly broke off her near-kiss, and wiped down the last of the pubic hairs with a swift and efficient flourish. Then she took off her gloves and stood back, hands on hips, to admire her handiwork.

''I seem to have become quite the expert on pussy,'' she thought with a smile.

With a slightly less angry noise, the protruding square on Carolyn’s back withdrew back into her body.

Her work all but complete, Carolyn grabbed the HY3001’s shoulders and bent it onto one foot, effortlessly pivoting more than gynoid's heavy mass around in a circle before setting it back down with a *''thump''*. A mild shudder passed upwards through the android’s flesh as its second sole struck the floor again, shaking its breasts, buttocks, thighs and calves.

Reaching for the exposed LCD panel between its shoulderblades, Carolyn quickly and efficiently thumbed in the desired commands.

'''INITIATE COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN.'''

'''WARNING: COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN WILL RESULT IN TOTAL ERASURE OF ALL PROGRAMS AND DATA. ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO CONTINUE? YES. NO.'''

'''YES.'''

'''COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN INITIATED. CANCEL? YES. NO.'''

'''5.'''

'''4.'''

'''3.'''

'''2.'''

'''1.'''

'''GOODBYE.'''

“Fiftem Fhutting Down. Good-bye,” said HY3001 FM247, perky as ever. Then its warm brown eyes closed, its lips sealed up, and its head and body tilted forward with a *''hissss''* of hydraulics before freezing in place, with a tiny bounce. The square patch of flesh suspended over its back twisted back over the rear LCD panel with a *''whirr''* and slid down into its slot, and the android did not move again.

Carolyn then set about mummifying the other robot in plastic. She took one last look at its still, motionless face, then swiftly covered it in bubble wrap, and wrapped a halo-hoop of tape in a crown around the android's head to hold it in place. When she was finished, she slung the HY3001 effortlessly over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and carried it without the least bit of exertion to the corner of the room, where she plopped it down on top of a pile of six similarly wrapped and stacked bundles. Carolyn did not find her newfound strength the least bit interesting; nor did she remember noticing the pile of plastic-wrapped bundles in the corner. In fact she did not think about either of these things now, either, nor even remember them after she had set down her own package. Once she had turned away there was no reason to turn back. She was done.

''Finally!'' she said to herself, snatching her phone and purse off the desk, and already thinking about the Intervision program she had been planning to watch tonight. ''If I make it home in fifteen minutes,'' she calculated, turning to her phone to check the time, ''I should just be able to catch the end of-''

And with that, the JYC mainframe, sensing that all timetabled events were complete, placed the entire building in energy-saving mode, powering down all non-essential apparatus. The lights clicked off, automatic doors slid shut, and Carolyn froze in her tracks, her clenching hand cracking the screen and pink shell casing of her smartphone. Her expression blanked out, her eyes taking on a glassy appearance; then the servos in her jaw triggered and automatically released tension, causing the jaw to go slack and the mouth to open, giving her a slightly dumbfounded look. Her posture slouched and her arms swung listlessly by her sides for a moment before everything went completely stiff and still.

She remained there in the dark, a few short steps away from the elevator door.

-----

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 5.0|Previous part]] - '''Part VI''' - [[Merger 7.0|Next part]]

Merger 6.0

2012-09-30T16:48:31Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 5.0|Previous part]] - '''Part VI''' - [[Merger 7.0|Next part]]

-----

● ● ●

Its review complete, the JYC mainframe deleted the cached memory of the VG2771 unit and reinitialized its systems. The unit would return to the remaining tasks timetabled as part of the rebranding operation, purged of any record of those it had already performed or of any elements associated with them. A single record would remain on the mainframe, ready for upload to Emirati Home Office as soon as the transoceanic fibre-optic links reopened in five hours’ time. The central computer slowly powered down its dedicated personality and human emulation processors, and the second Joyce hologram, now reduced to a mute and mindless image, vanished like its predecessor.

● ● ●

There was a brief sound like a typewriter and a loud *beep*, and Carolyn jerked back to life. “-get ri…” she said, before trailing off and forgetting that she had said anything at all. The bubble wrap rustled in her hands as her fingers unclenched. She turned around and saw the HY3001 standing at attention, its pearly white teeth aglare, its protuberant breasts perked up with their cellophane pasties. She frowned.

''Another one of these?'' she thought. ''Damn, I thought I was done already.''

Carolyn reached into the carrying case conveniently spread out on the desk in front of her and selected the third-largest buttplug. It should really have been the fourth largest, but the second largest appeared to have gone missing. In any case, she stretched a pair of latex gloves over her fingers and used them to rub the lubricating antibacterial gel over the surface of the plug. ''I can’t believe I'm the only one they have in here doing this'', she said to herself, ''They really should have hired some more staff in for this.''

She turned to face the placid android. “HY3001,” she said, “Bend over.”

“Of course,” said the android. It obligingly stuck out its wide, smooth, hairless behind.

● ● ●

The pubis resembled a small, well trimmed patch of copper wire, cropped in a close “V” over the HY3001’s vulva. Something about it commanded Carolyn’s attention. She stood, staring at it, her plaster-smeared fingers poking at the curls around the edges, as if trying to glean its significance.

Then the moment passed, and she swiped crudely over the snatch with a great glob of water-soluble goo.

As her fingers rubbed the paste between the kinky strands they frequently found their way on top of the prominent bulge of the clitoris, and worked it between them as well, lingering over it, pinching it between the index and middle fingers, or between the index finger and thumb. Carolyn’s motions were slow and rhythmic, and her tongue occasionally darted between her lips as she stared into the frozen android’s lifeless eyes.

The HY3001 stared dumbly back at her, its hair tied back in a plaster-smeared, slowly-hardening ponytail, its broad, beaming mouth filled by a clear plastic mouthguard that beckoned Carolyn’s darting tongue. Carolyn licked the android’s lips as well as her own as her pinky finger prodded the double-headed dildo embedded in its snatch-

'''WARNING!'''

There was an angry electronic noise as a square portion of Carolyn’s back lifted up between her shoulder blades; this time, however, it did not twist around, but remained in place above the LCD panel below. Carolyn did not appear to notice, but she instantly broke off her near-kiss, and wiped down the last of the pubic hairs with a swift and efficient flourish. Then she took off her gloves and stood back, hands on hips, to admire her handiwork.

''I seem to have become quite the expert on pussy,'' she thought with a smile.

With a slightly less angry noise, the protruding square on Carolyn’s back withdrew back into her body.

Her work all but complete, Carolyn grabbed the HY3001’s shoulders and bent it onto one foot, effortlessly pivoting more than gynoid's heavy mass around in a circle before setting it back down with a *''thump''*. A mild shudder passed upwards through the android’s flesh as its second sole struck the floor again, shaking its breasts, buttocks, thighs and calves.

Reaching for the exposed LCD panel between its shoulderblades, Carolyn quickly and efficiently thumbed in the desired commands.

'''INITIATE COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN.'''

'''WARNING: COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN WILL RESULT IN TOTAL ERASURE OF ALL PROGRAMS AND DATA. ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO CONTINUE? YES. NO.'''

'''YES.'''

'''COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN INITIATED. CANCEL? YES. NO.'''

'''5.'''

'''4.'''

'''3.'''

'''2.'''

'''1.'''

'''GOODBYE.'''

“Fiftem Fhutting Down. Good-bye,” said HY3001 FM247, perky as ever. Then its warm brown eyes closed, its lips sealed up, and its head and body tilted forward with a *''hissss''* of hydraulics before freezing in place, with a tiny bounce. The square patch of flesh suspended over its back twisted back over the rear LCD panel with a *''whirr''* and slid down into its slot, and the android did not move again.

Carolyn then set about mummifying the other robot in plastic. She took one last look at its still, motionless face, then swiftly covered it in bubble wrap, and wrapped a halo-hoop of tape in a crown around the android's head to hold it in place. When she was finished, she slung the HY3001 effortlessly over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and carried it without the least bit of exertion to the corner of the room, where she plopped it down on top of a pile of six similarly wrapped and stacked bundles. Carolyn did not find her newfound strength the least bit interesting; nor did she remember noticing the pile of plastic-wrapped bundles in the corner. In fact she did not think about either of these things now, either, nor even remember them after she had set down her own package. Once she had turned away there was no reason to turn back. She was done.

''Finally!'' she said to herself, snatching her phone and purse off the desk, and already thinking about the Intervision program she had been planning to watch tonight. ''If I make it home in fifteen minutes,'' she calculated, turning to her phone to check the time, ''I should just be able to catch the end of-''

And with that, the JYC mainframe, sensing that all timetabled events were complete, placed the entire building in energy-saving mode, powering down all non-essential apparatus. The lights clicked off, automatic doors slid shut, and Carolyn froze in her tracks, her clenching hand cracking the screen and pink shell casing of her smartphone. Her expression blanked out, her eyes taking on a glassy appearance; then the servos in her jaw triggered and automatically released tension, causing the jaw to go slack and the mouth to open, giving her a slightly dumbfounded look. Her posture slouched and her arms swung listlessly by her sides for a moment before everything went completely stiff and still.

She remained there in the dark, a few short steps away from the elevator door.

-----

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 5.0|Previous part]] - '''Part VI''' - [[Merger 7.0|Next part]]

Merger 6.0

2012-09-30T16:47:46Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 5.0|Previous part]] - '''Part VI''' - [[Merger 7.0|Next part]]

-----

● ● ●

Its review complete, the JYC mainframe deleted the cached memory of the VG2771 unit and reinitialized its systems. The unit would return to the remaining tasks timetabled as part of the rebranding operation, purged of any record of those it had already performed or of any elements associated with them. A single record would remain on the mainframe, ready for upload to Emirati Home Office as soon as the transoceanic fibre-optic links reopened in five hours’ time. The central computer slowly powered down its dedicated personality and human emulation processors, and the second Joyce hologram, now reduced to a mute and mindless image, vanished like its predecessor.

● ● ●

There was a brief sound like a typewriter and a loud *beep*, and Carolyn jerked back to life. “-get ri…” she said, before trailing off and forgetting that she had said anything at all. The bubble wrap rustled in her hands as her fingers unclenched. She turned around and saw the HY3001 standing at attention, its pearly white teeth aglare, its protuberant breasts perked up with their cellophane pasties. She frowned.

Another one of these? she thought. Damn, I thought I was done already.

Carolyn reached into the carrying case conveniently spread out on the desk in front of her and selected the third-largest buttplug. It should really have been the fourth largest, but the second largest appeared to have gone missing. In any case, she stretched a pair of latex gloves over her fingers and used them to rub the lubricating antibacterial gel over the surface of the plug. I can’t believe I'm the only one they have in here doing this, she said to herself, They really should have hired some more staff in for this.

She turned to face the placid android. “HY3001,” she said, “Bend over.”

“Of course,” said the android. It obligingly stuck out its wide, smooth, hairless behind.

● ● ●

The pubis resembled a small, well trimmed patch of copper wire, cropped in a close “V” over the HY3001’s vulva. Something about it commanded Carolyn’s attention. She stood, staring at it, her plaster-smeared fingers poking at the curls around the edges, as if trying to glean its significance.

Then the moment passed, and she swiped crudely over the snatch with a great glob of water-soluble goo.

As her fingers rubbed the paste between the kinky strands they frequently found their way on top of the prominent bulge of the clitoris, and worked it between them as well, lingering over it, pinching it between the index and middle fingers, or between the index finger and thumb. Carolyn’s motions were slow and rhythmic, and her tongue occasionally darted between her lips as she stared into the frozen android’s lifeless eyes.

The HY3001 stared dumbly back at her, its hair tied back in a plaster-smeared, slowly-hardening ponytail, its broad, beaming mouth filled by a clear plastic mouthguard that beckoned Carolyn’s darting tongue. Carolyn licked the android’s lips as well as her own as her pinky finger prodded the double-headed dildo embedded in its snatch-

'''WARNING!'''

There was an angry electronic noise as a square portion of Carolyn’s back lifted up between her shoulder blades; this time, however, it did not twist around, but remained in place above the LCD panel below. Carolyn did not appear to notice, but she instantly broke off her near-kiss, and wiped down the last of the pubic hairs with a swift and efficient flourish. Then she took off her gloves and stood back, hands on hips, to admire her handiwork.

''I seem to have become quite the expert on pussy,'' she thought with a smile.

With a slightly less angry noise, the protruding square on Carolyn’s back withdrew back into her body.

Her work all but complete, Carolyn grabbed the HY3001’s shoulders and bent it onto one foot, effortlessly pivoting more than gynoid's heavy mass around in a circle before setting it back down with a *''thump''*. A mild shudder passed upwards through the android’s flesh as its second sole struck the floor again, shaking its breasts, buttocks, thighs and calves.

Reaching for the exposed LCD panel between its shoulderblades, Carolyn quickly and efficiently thumbed in the desired commands.

'''INITIATE COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN.'''

'''WARNING: COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN WILL RESULT IN TOTAL ERASURE OF ALL PROGRAMS AND DATA. ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO CONTINUE? YES. NO.'''

'''YES.'''

'''COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN INITIATED. CANCEL? YES. NO.'''

'''5.'''

'''4.'''

'''3.'''

'''2.'''

'''1.'''

'''GOODBYE.'''

“Fiftem Fhutting Down. Good-bye,” said HY3001 FM247, perky as ever. Then its warm brown eyes closed, its lips sealed up, and its head and body tilted forward with a *''hissss''* of hydraulics before freezing in place, with a tiny bounce. The square patch of flesh suspended over its back twisted back over the rear LCD panel with a *''whirr''* and slid down into its slot, and the android did not move again.

Carolyn then set about mummifying the other robot in plastic. She took one last look at its still, motionless face, then swiftly covered it in bubble wrap, and wrapped a halo-hoop of tape in a crown around the android's head to hold it in place. When she was finished, she slung the HY3001 effortlessly over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and carried it without the least bit of exertion to the corner of the room, where she plopped it down on top of a pile of six similarly wrapped and stacked bundles. Carolyn did not find her newfound strength the least bit interesting; nor did she remember noticing the pile of plastic-wrapped bundles in the corner. In fact she did not think about either of these things now, either, nor even remember them after she had set down her own package. Once she had turned away there was no reason to turn back. She was done.

''Finally!'' she said to herself, snatching her phone and purse off the desk, and already thinking about the Intervision program she had been planning to watch tonight. ''If I make it home in fifteen minutes,'' she calculated, turning to her phone to check the time, ''I should just be able to catch the end of-''

And with that, the JYC mainframe, sensing that all timetabled events were complete, placed the entire building in energy-saving mode, powering down all non-essential apparatus. The lights clicked off, automatic doors slid shut, and Carolyn froze in her tracks, her clenching hand cracking the screen and pink shell casing of her smartphone. Her expression blanked out, her eyes taking on a glassy appearance; then the servos in her jaw triggered and automatically released tension, causing the jaw to go slack and the mouth to open, giving her a slightly dumbfounded look. Her posture slouched and her arms swung listlessly by her sides for a moment before everything went completely stiff and still.

She remained there in the dark, a few short steps away from the elevator door.

-----

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 5.0|Previous part]] - '''Part VI''' - [[Merger 7.0|Next part]]

Merger 6.0

2012-09-30T16:46:27Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 5.0|Previous part]] - '''Part VI''' - [[Merger 7.0|Next part]]

-----

● ● ●

Its review complete, the JYC mainframe deleted the cached memory of the VG2771 unit and reinitialized its systems. The unit would return to the remaining tasks timetabled as part of the rebranding operation purged of any record of those it had already performed, or of any elements associated with them, while a single record remained on the mainframe, ready for upload to Emirati Home Office as soon as the transoceanic fibre-optic links reopened in five hours’ time. The central computer slowly powered down its dedicated personality and human emulation processors, and the second Joyce hologram, now reduced to a mute and mindless image, vanished like its predecessor.

● ● ●

There was a brief sound like a typewriter and a loud *beep*, and Carolyn jerked back to life. “-get ri…” she said, before trailing off and forgetting that she had said anything at all. The bubble wrap rustled in her hands as her fingers unclenched. She turned around and saw the HY3001 standing at attention, its pearly white teeth aglare, its protuberant breasts perked up with their cellophane pasties. She frowned.

Another one of these? she thought. Damn, I thought I was done already.

Carolyn reached into the carrying case conveniently spread out on the desk in front of her and selected the third-largest buttplug. It should really have been the fourth largest, but the second largest appeared to have gone missing. In any case, she stretched a pair of latex gloves over her fingers and used them to rub the lubricating antibacterial gel over the surface of the plug. I can’t believe I'm the only one they have in here doing this, she said to herself, They really should have hired some more staff in for this.

She turned to face the placid android. “HY3001,” she said, “Bend over.”

“Of course,” said the android. It obligingly stuck out its wide, smooth, hairless behind.

● ● ●

The pubis resembled a small, well trimmed patch of copper wire, cropped in a close “V” over the HY3001’s vulva. Something about it commanded Carolyn’s attention. She stood, staring at it, her plaster-smeared fingers poking at the curls around the edges, as if trying to glean its significance.

Then the moment passed, and she swiped crudely over the snatch with a great glob of water-soluble goo.

As her fingers rubbed the paste between the kinky strands they frequently found their way on top of the prominent bulge of the clitoris, and worked it between them as well, lingering over it, pinching it between the index and middle fingers, or between the index finger and thumb. Carolyn’s motions were slow and rhythmic, and her tongue occasionally darted between her lips as she stared into the frozen android’s lifeless eyes.

The HY3001 stared dumbly back at her, its hair tied back in a plaster-smeared, slowly-hardening ponytail, its broad, beaming mouth filled by a clear plastic mouthguard that beckoned Carolyn’s darting tongue. Carolyn licked the android’s lips as well as her own as her pinky finger prodded the double-headed dildo embedded in its snatch-

'''WARNING!'''

There was an angry electronic noise as a square portion of Carolyn’s back lifted up between her shoulder blades; this time, however, it did not twist around, but remained in place above the LCD panel below. Carolyn did not appear to notice, but she instantly broke off her near-kiss, and wiped down the last of the pubic hairs with a swift and efficient flourish. Then she took off her gloves and stood back, hands on hips, to admire her handiwork.

''I seem to have become quite the expert on pussy,'' she thought with a smile.

With a slightly less angry noise, the protruding square on Carolyn’s back withdrew back into her body.

Her work all but complete, Carolyn grabbed the HY3001’s shoulders and bent it onto one foot, effortlessly pivoting more than gynoid's heavy mass around in a circle before setting it back down with a *''thump''*. A mild shudder passed upwards through the android’s flesh as its second sole struck the floor again, shaking its breasts, buttocks, thighs and calves.

Reaching for the exposed LCD panel between its shoulderblades, Carolyn quickly and efficiently thumbed in the desired commands.

'''INITIATE COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN.'''

'''WARNING: COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN WILL RESULT IN TOTAL ERASURE OF ALL PROGRAMS AND DATA. ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO CONTINUE? YES. NO.'''

'''YES.'''

'''COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN INITIATED. CANCEL? YES. NO.'''

'''5.'''

'''4.'''

'''3.'''

'''2.'''

'''1.'''

'''GOODBYE.'''

“Fiftem Fhutting Down. Good-bye,” said HY3001 FM247, perky as ever. Then its warm brown eyes closed, its lips sealed up, and its head and body tilted forward with a *''hissss''* of hydraulics before freezing in place, with a tiny bounce. The square patch of flesh suspended over its back twisted back over the rear LCD panel with a *''whirr''* and slid down into its slot, and the android did not move again.

Carolyn then set about mummifying the other robot in plastic. She took one last look at its still, motionless face, then swiftly covered it in bubble wrap, and wrapped a halo-hoop of tape in a crown around the android's head to hold it in place. When she was finished, she slung the HY3001 effortlessly over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and carried it without the least bit of exertion to the corner of the room, where she plopped it down on top of a pile of six similarly wrapped and stacked bundles. Carolyn did not find her newfound strength the least bit interesting; nor did she remember noticing the pile of plastic-wrapped bundles in the corner. In fact she did not think about either of these things now, either, nor even remember them after she had set down her own package. Once she had turned away there was no reason to turn back. She was done.

''Finally!'' she said to herself, snatching her phone and purse off the desk, and already thinking about the Intervision program she had been planning to watch tonight. ''If I make it home in fifteen minutes,'' she calculated, turning to her phone to check the time, ''I should just be able to catch the end of-''

And with that, the JYC mainframe, sensing that all timetabled events were complete, placed the entire building in energy-saving mode, powering down all non-essential apparatus. The lights clicked off, automatic doors slid shut, and Carolyn froze in her tracks, her clenching hand cracking the screen and pink shell casing of her smartphone. Her expression blanked out, her eyes taking on a glassy appearance; then the servos in her jaw triggered and automatically released tension, causing the jaw to go slack and the mouth to open, giving her a slightly dumbfounded look. Her posture slouched and her arms swung listlessly by her sides for a moment before everything went completely stiff and still.

She remained there in the dark, a few short steps away from the elevator door.

-----

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 5.0|Previous part]] - '''Part VI''' - [[Merger 7.0|Next part]]

Merger

2012-09-30T16:45:06Z

Karel:

● ● ●

''Have been so frustrated by what has been on offer as of late that I have been compelled to write a new story, for the first time in years. I can think of a few people who should enjoy this, and I don't much care who doesn't.''

- Karel

==Merger==
By [[User:Karel|Karel]] (©2012)

#[[Merger 1.0]]
#[[Merger 2.0]]
#[[Merger 3.0]]
#[[Merger 4.0]]
#[[Merger 5.0]]
#[[Merger 6.0]]

-----

[[Stories|Back to the story archive]]

[[Category:Karel]]
[[Category:Features]]
[[Category:Stories]]

Merger 6.0

2012-09-30T16:43:49Z

Karel:

● ● ●

Its review complete, the JYC mainframe deleted the cached memory of the VG2771 unit and reinitialized its systems. The unit would return to the remaining tasks timetabled as part of the rebranding operation purged of any record of those it had already performed, or of any elements associated with them, while a single record remained on the mainframe, ready for upload to Emirati Home Office as soon as the transoceanic fibre-optic links reopened in five hours’ time. The central computer slowly powered down its dedicated personality and human emulation processors, and the second Joyce hologram, now reduced to a mute and mindless image, vanished like its predecessor.

● ● ●

There was a brief sound like a typewriter and a loud *beep*, and Carolyn jerked back to life. “-get ri…” she said, before trailing off and forgetting that she had said anything at all. The bubble wrap rustled in her hands as her fingers unclenched. She turned around and saw the HY3001 standing at attention, its pearly white teeth aglare, its protuberant breasts perked up with their cellophane pasties. She frowned.

Another one of these? she thought. Damn, I thought I was done already.

Carolyn reached into the carrying case conveniently spread out on the desk in front of her and selected the third-largest buttplug. It should really have been the fourth largest, but the second largest appeared to have gone missing. In any case, she stretched a pair of latex gloves over her fingers and used them to rub the lubricating antibacterial gel over the surface of the plug. I can’t believe I'm the only one they have in here doing this, she said to herself, They really should have hired some more staff in for this.

She turned to face the placid android. “HY3001,” she said, “Bend over.”

“Of course,” said the android. It obligingly stuck out its wide, smooth, hairless behind.

● ● ●

The pubis resembled a small, well trimmed patch of copper wire, cropped in a close “V” over the HY3001’s vulva. Something about it commanded Carolyn’s attention. She stood, staring at it, her plaster-smeared fingers poking at the curls around the edges, as if trying to glean its significance.

Then the moment passed, and she swiped crudely over the snatch with a great glob of water-soluble goo.

As her fingers rubbed the paste between the kinky strands they frequently found their way on top of the prominent bulge of the clitoris, and worked it between them as well, lingering over it, pinching it between the index and middle fingers, or between the index finger and thumb. Carolyn’s motions were slow and rhythmic, and her tongue occasionally darted between her lips as she stared into the frozen android’s lifeless eyes.

The HY3001 stared dumbly back at her, its hair tied back in a plaster-smeared, slowly-hardening ponytail, its broad, beaming mouth filled by a clear plastic mouthguard that beckoned Carolyn’s darting tongue. Carolyn licked the android’s lips as well as her own as her pinky finger prodded the double-headed dildo embedded in its snatch-

'''WARNING!'''

There was an angry electronic noise as a square portion of Carolyn’s back lifted up between her shoulder blades; this time, however, it did not twist around, but remained in place above the LCD panel below. Carolyn did not appear to notice, but she instantly broke off her near-kiss, and wiped down the last of the pubic hairs with a swift and efficient flourish. Then she took off her gloves and stood back, hands on hips, to admire her handiwork.

''I seem to have become quite the expert on pussy,'' she thought with a smile.

With a slightly less angry noise, the protruding square on Carolyn’s back withdrew back into her body.

Her work all but complete, Carolyn grabbed the HY3001’s shoulders and bent it onto one foot, effortlessly pivoting more than gynoid's heavy mass around in a circle before setting it back down with a *''thump''*. A mild shudder passed upwards through the android’s flesh as its second sole struck the floor again, shaking its breasts, buttocks, thighs and calves.

Reaching for the exposed LCD panel between its shoulderblades, Carolyn quickly and efficiently thumbed in the desired commands.

'''INITIATE COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN.'''

'''WARNING: COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN WILL RESULT IN TOTAL ERASURE OF ALL PROGRAMS AND DATA. ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO CONTINUE? YES. NO.'''

'''YES.'''

'''COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN INITIATED. CANCEL? YES. NO.'''

'''5.'''

'''4.'''

'''3.'''

'''2.'''

'''1.'''

'''GOODBYE.'''

“Fiftem Fhutting Down. Good-bye,” said HY3001 FM247, perky as ever. Then its warm brown eyes closed, its lips sealed up, and its head and body tilted forward with a *''hissss''* of hydraulics before freezing in place, with a tiny bounce. The square patch of flesh suspended over its back twisted back over the rear LCD panel with a *''whirr''* and slid down into its slot, and the android did not move again.

Carolyn then set about mummifying the other robot in plastic. She took one last look at its still, motionless face, then swiftly covered it in bubble wrap, and wrapped a halo-hoop of tape in a crown around the android's head to hold it in place. When she was finished, she slung the HY3001 effortlessly over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and carried it without the least bit of exertion to the corner of the room, where she plopped it down on top of a pile of six similarly wrapped and stacked bundles. Carolyn did not find her newfound strength the least bit interesting; nor did she remember noticing the pile of plastic-wrapped bundles in the corner. In fact she did not think about either of these things now, either, nor even remember them after she had set down her own package. Once she had turned away there was no reason to turn back. She was done.

''Finally!'' she said to herself, snatching her phone and purse off the desk, and already thinking about the Intervision program she had been planning to watch tonight. ''If I make it home in fifteen minutes,'' she calculated, turning to her phone to check the time, ''I should just be able to catch the end of-''

And with that, the JYC mainframe, sensing that all timetabled events were complete, placed the entire building in energy-saving mode, powering down all non-essential apparatus. The lights clicked off, automatic doors slid shut, and Carolyn froze in her tracks, her clenching hand cracking the screen and pink shell casing of her smartphone. Her expression blanked out, her eyes taking on a glassy appearance; then the servos in her jaw triggered and automatically released tension, causing the jaw to go slack and the mouth to open, giving her a slightly dumbfounded look. Her posture slouched and her arms swung listlessly by her sides for a moment before everything went completely stiff and still.

She remained there in the dark, a few short steps away from the elevator door.

Merger 6.0

2012-09-30T16:43:14Z

Karel:

● ● ●

Its review complete, the JYC mainframe deleted the cached memory of the VG2771 unit and reinitialized its systems. The unit would return to the remaining tasks timetabled as part of the rebranding operation purged of any record of those it had already performed, or of any elements associated with them, while a single record remained on the mainframe, ready for upload to Emirati Home Office as soon as the transoceanic fibre-optic links reopened in five hours’ time. The central computer slowly powered down its dedicated personality and human emulation processors, and the second Joyce hologram, now reduced to a mute and mindless image, vanished like its predecessor.

● ● ●

There was a brief sound like a typewriter and a loud *beep*, and Carolyn jerked back to life. “-get ri…” she said, before trailing off and forgetting that she had said anything at all. The bubble wrap rustled in her hands as her fingers unclenched. She turned around and saw the HY3001 standing at attention, its pearly white teeth aglare, its protuberant breasts perked up with their cellophane pasties. She frowned.

Another one of these? she thought. Damn, I thought I was done already.

Carolyn reached into the carrying case conveniently spread out on the desk in front of her and selected the third-largest buttplug. It should really have been the fourth largest, but the second largest appeared to have gone missing. In any case, she stretched a pair of latex gloves over her fingers and used them to rub the lubricating antibacterial gel over the surface of the plug. I can’t believe I'm the only one they have in here doing this, she said to herself, They really should have hired some more staff in for this.

She turned to face the placid android. “HY3001,” she said, “Bend over.”

“Of course,” said the android. It obligingly stuck out its wide, smooth, hairless behind.

● ● ●

The pubis resembled a small, well trimmed patch of copper wire, cropped in a close “V” over the HY3001’s vulva. Something about it commanded Carolyn’s attention. She stood, staring at it, her plaster-smeared fingers poking at the curls around the edges, as if trying to glean its significance.

Then the moment passed, and she swiped crudely over the snatch with a great glob of water-soluble goo.

As her fingers rubbed the paste between the kinky strands they frequently found their way on top of the prominent bulge of the clitoris, and worked it between them as well, lingering over it, pinching it between the index and middle fingers, or between the index finger and thumb. Carolyn’s motions were slow and rhythmic, and her tongue occasionally darted between her lips as she stared into the frozen android’s lifeless eyes.

The HY3001 stared dumbly back at her, its hair tied back in a plaster-smeared, slowly-hardening ponytail, its broad, beaming mouth filled by a clear plastic mouthguard that beckoned Carolyn’s darting tongue. Carolyn licked the android’s lips as well as her own as her pinky finger prodded the double-headed dildo embedded in its snatch-

'''WARNING!'''

There was an angry electronic noise as a square portion of Carolyn’s back lifted up between her shoulder blades; this time, however, it did not twist around, but remained in place above the LCD panel below. Carolyn did not appear to notice, but she instantly broke off her near-kiss, and wiped down the last of the pubic hairs with a swift and efficient flourish. Then she took off her gloves and stood back, hands on hips, to admire her handiwork.

''I seem to have become quite the expert on pussy,'' she thought with a smile.

With a slightly less angry noise, the protruding square on Carolyn’s back withdrew back into her body.

Her work all but complete, Carolyn grabbed the HY3001’s shoulders and bent it onto one foot, effortlessly pivoting more than gynoid's heavy mass around in a circle before setting it back down with a *''thump''*. A mild shudder passed upwards through the android’s flesh as its second sole struck the floor again, shaking its breasts, buttocks, thighs and calves.

Reaching for the exposed LCD panel between its shoulderblades, Carolyn quickly and efficiently thumbed in the desired commands.

'''INITIATE COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN.'''

'''WARNING: COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN WILL RESULT IN TOTAL ERASURE OF ALL PROGRAMS AND DATA. ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO CONTINUE? YES. NO.'''

'''YES.'''

'''COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN INITIATED. CANCEL? YES. NO.'''

'''5.'''

'''4.'''

'''3.'''

'''2.'''

'''1.'''

'''GOODBYE.'''

“Fiftem Fhutting Down. Good-bye,” said HY3001 FM247, perky as ever. Then its warm brown eyes closed, its lips sealed up, and its head and body tilted forward with a *''hissss''* of hydraulics before freezing in place, with a tiny bounce. The square patch of flesh suspended over its back twisted back over the rear LCD panel with a *''whirr''* and slid down into its slot, and the android did not move again.

Carolyn then set about mummifying the other robot in plastic. She took one last look at its still, motionless face, then swiftly covered it in bubble wrap, and wrapped a halo-hoop of tape in a crown around the android's head to hold it in place. When she was finished, she slung the HY3001 effortlessly over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and carried it without the least bit of exertion to the corner of the room, where she plopped it down on top of a pile of six similarly wrapped and stacked bundles. Carolyn did not find her newfound strength the least bit interesting; nor did she remember noticing the pile of plastic-wrapped bundles in the corner. In fact she did not think about either of these things now, either, nor even remember them after setting down her own package. Once she had turned away there was no reason to turn back. She was done.

''Finally!'' she said to herself, snatching her phone and purse off the desk, and already thinking about the Intervision program she had been planning to watch tonight. ''If I make it home in fifteen minutes,'' she calculated, turning to her phone to check the time, ''I should just be able to catch the end of-''

And with that, the JYC mainframe, sensing that all timetabled events were complete, placed the entire building in energy-saving mode, powering down all non-essential apparatus. The lights clicked off, automatic doors slid shut, and Carolyn froze in her tracks, her clenching hand cracking the screen and pink shell casing of her smartphone. Her expression blanked out, her eyes taking on a glassy appearance; then the servos in her jaw triggered and automatically released tension, causing the jaw to go slack and the mouth to open, giving her a slightly dumbfounded look. Her posture slouched and her arms swung listlessly by her sides for a moment before everything went completely stiff and still.

She remained there in the dark, a few short steps away from the elevator door.

Merger 6.0

2012-09-30T16:42:00Z

Karel: New page: ● ● ● Its review complete, the JYC mainframe deleted the cached memory of the VG2771 unit and reinitialized its systems. The unit would return to the remaining tasks timetabled as p...

● ● ●

Its review complete, the JYC mainframe deleted the cached memory of the VG2771 unit and reinitialized its systems. The unit would return to the remaining tasks timetabled as part of the rebranding operation purged of any record of those it had already performed, or of any elements associated with them, while a single record remained on the mainframe, ready for upload to Emirati Home Office as soon as the transoceanic fibre-optic links reopened in five hours’ time. The central computer slowly powered down its dedicated personality and human emulation processors, and the second Joyce hologram, now reduced to a mute and mindless image, vanished like its predecessor.

● ● ●

There was a brief sound like a typewriter and a loud *beep*, and Carolyn jerked back to life. “-get ri…” she said, before trailing off and forgetting that she had said anything at all. The bubble wrap rustled in her hands as her fingers unclenched. She turned around and saw the HY3001 standing at attention, its pearly white teeth aglare, its protuberant breasts perked up with their cellophane pasties. She frowned.

Another one of these? she thought. Damn, I thought I was done already.

Carolyn reached into the carrying case conveniently spread out on the desk in front of her and selected the third-largest buttplug. It should really have been the fourth largest, but the second largest appeared to have gone missing. In any case, she stretched a pair of latex gloves over her fingers and used them to rub the lubricating antibacterial gel over the surface of the plug. I can’t believe I'm the only one they have in here doing this, she said to herself, They really should have hired some more staff in for this.

She turned to face the placid android. “HY3001,” she said, “Bend over.”

“Of course,” said the android. It obligingly stuck out its wide, smooth, hairless behind.

● ● ●

The pubis resembled a small, well trimmed patch of copper wire, cropped in a close “V” over the HY3001’s vulva. Something about it commanded Carolyn’s attention. She stood, staring at it, her plaster-smeared fingers poking at the curls around the edges, as if trying to glean its significance.

Then the moment passed, and she swiped crudely over the snatch with a great glob of water-soluble goo.

As her fingers rubbed the paste between the kinky strands they frequently found their way on top of the prominent bulge of the clitoris, and worked it between them as well, lingering over it, pinching it between the index and middle fingers, or between the index finger and thumb. Carolyn’s motions were slow and rhythmic, and her tongue occasionally darted between her lips as she stared into the frozen android’s lifeless eyes.

The HY3001 stared dumbly back at her, its hair tied back in a plaster-smeared, slowly-hardening ponytail, its broad, beaming mouth filled by a clear plastic mouthguard that beckoned Carolyn’s darting tongue. Carolyn licked the android’s lips as well as her own as her pinky finger prodded the double-headed dildo embedded in its snatch-

'''WARNING!'''

There was an angry electronic noise as a square portion of Carolyn’s back lifted up between her shoulder blades; this time, however, it did not twist around, but remained in place above the LCD panel below. Carolyn did not appear to notice, but she instantly broke off her near-kiss, and wiped down the last of the pubic hairs with a swift and efficient flourish. Then she took off her gloves and stood back, hands on hips, to admire her handiwork.

''I seem to have become quite the expert on pussy,'' she thought with a smile.

With a slightly less angry noise, the protruding square on Carolyn’s back withdrew back into her body.

Her work all but complete, Carolyn grabbed the HY3001’s shoulders and bent it onto one foot, effortlessly pivoting more than gynoid's heavy mass around in a circle before setting it back down with a *''thump''*. A mild shudder passed upwards through the android’s flesh as its second sole struck the floor again, shaking its breasts, buttocks, thighs and calves.

Reaching for the exposed LCD panel between its shoulderblades, Carolyn quickly and efficiently thumbed in the desired commands.

'''INITIATE COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN.'''

'''WARNING: COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN WILL RESULT IN TOTAL ERASURE OF ALL PROGRAMS AND DATA. ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO CONTINUE? YES. NO.'''

'''YES.'''

'''COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN INITIATED. CANCEL? YES. NO.'''

'''5.'''

'''4.'''

'''3.'''

'''2.'''

'''1.'''

'''GOODBYE.'''

“Fiftem Fhutting Down. Good-bye,” said HY3001 FM247, perky as ever. Then its warm brown eyes closed, its lips sealed up, and its head and body tilted forward with a *''hissss''* of hydraulics before freezing in place, with a tiny bounce. The square patch of flesh suspended over its back twisted back over the rear LCD panel with a *''whirr''* and slid down into its slot, and the android did not move again.

Carolyn then set about mummifying the other robot in plastic. She took one last look at its still, motionless face, then swiftly covered it in bubble wrap, and wrapped a halo-hoop of tape in a crown around the android's head to hold it in place. When she was finished, she slung the HY3001 effortlessly over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and carried it without the least bit of exertion to the corner of the room, where she plopped it down on top of a pile of six similarly wrapped and stacked bundles. Carolyn did not find her newfound strength the least bet interesting; nor did she remember noticing the pile of plastic-wrapped bundles in the corner. In fact she did not think about either of these things now, either, nor even remember them after setting down her own package. Once she had turned away there was no reason to turn back. She was done.

''Finally!'' she said to herself, snatching her phone and purse off the desk, and already thinking about the Intervision program she had been planning to watch tonight. ''If I make it home in fifteen minutes,'' she calculated, turning to her phone to check the time, ''I should just be able to catch the end of-''

And with that, the JYC mainframe, sensing that all timetabled events were complete, placed the entire building in energy-saving mode, powering down all non-essential apparatus. The lights clicked off, automatic doors slid shut, and Carolyn froze in her tracks, her clenching hand cracking the screen and pink shell casing of her smartphone. Her expression blanked out, her eyes taking on a glassy appearance; then the servos in her jaw triggered and automatically released tension, causing the jaw to go slack and the mouth to open, giving her a slightly dumbfounded look. Her posture slouched and her arms swung listlessly by her sides for a moment before everything went completely stiff and still.

She remained there in the dark, a few short steps away from the elevator door.

Merger 5.0

2012-09-30T16:31:21Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 4.0|Previous part]] - '''Part V''' - [[Merger 6.0|Next part]]

-----

Althea cradled the clear plastic earplugs like dice in her gloved right hand. “BP9000,” she said, directly into the ear of the now upright receptionist unit, “Discontinue voice command.”

“Command accfepted,” came the dulcet-toned response from behind the plastic mouthguard, “Voif command difkontinued.” The square patch of tight black flesh covering the android’s back panel slid smoothly and automatically off of the LCD touchscreen underneath, allowing access for manually keyed commands, and the receptionist went silent. Althea began to forcefully insert each earplug, grabbing the side of the android’s smooth bald head with her free hand as she did so.

Carolyn gave the double-headed dildo, now fully inserted into the receptionist’s vagina and urethra, one last tug, and then, satisfied that it was firmly in place, snapped off her latex gloves and threw them into the wastepaper basket. She put on a fresh, clean pair, and grabbed one of the plastic jars Althea had laid out on the IRU receptionist’s desk, twisting off the black lid to reveal a white, viscous goo inside. The jars contained a special water-soluble plaster, proprietary to the company. As Althea inserted the second earplug, every orifice of the android was now safely sealed for shipping and handling. The next step was to thoroughly rub this plaster into its hair and allow it to harden into a solid mass; this would prevent any hair from being caught and torn in packing tape or velcro while the android was being warehoused, or moved from place to place. With the hair on top of the receptionist unit’s head conveniently removed and made ready for packing in a separate container, that left only the hair below: the wild, untamed bush, and the few straight and curly strands that studded the inside of the BP9000’s anal crease for the sake of slavish verisimilitude. While the presence of the latter hardly conformed to Carolyn’s conception of “luxury,” she supposed that the devil was in the details.

Althea had come up with a joking name for the plaster. She called it “hair relaxer.”

Althea gave one last twist of the earplug. “Got it,” she said.

“You ready?” asked Carolyn.

“Hand me that tub,” said Althea, “I’ll do the butt.”

“Butt of course,” said Carolyn with a smile, handing it over. Althea rolled her eyes and got down on her knees.

Carolyn picked up a second jar, opened it, and stared again at the android’s luxuriant pubic hair, as if unsure where to begin. Her eyes flitted up to the receptionist unit’s still smiling face: its thick lips parted over the plastic mouthguard, its cool, lifeless blue eyes staring back at her, like glass marbles set in ebony. The android’s sudden baldness seemed almost to enhance the serenity of its expression. A pair of plastic noseplugs were barely visible, stuffed up its broad nostrils by Althea.

Gently, rhythmically, Althea rubbed the fingers of her cream-covered right hand up and down between the receptionist’s buttocks, holding them open with her left. She worked the tips of them around the handle of the plastic buttplug still embedded in the unit’s anus, occasionally pinching and pushing at it to be sure it was still in place. The white plaster-paste filled the crevasse, coating everything.

With the tip of one gloved index finger, Carolyn slowly and deliberately traced the lower lip of the frozen android. She moved it to the centre of the mouth, curled it inside between the lip and the mouthguard, and peeled down, revealing the android’s soft, pink artificial gums. Then she let go, and the large lip whipped back into place with a wobble, eliciting zero reaction from its owner. Suppressing a giggle, Carolyn brought her index finger back to her own mouth, against her own lips, and then, absent-mindedly, sucked on it, like an infant sucking on a thumb, or a nipple.

“Carolyn?” came Althea’s voice from below.

Carolyn withdrew her finger from her mouth and stuck it straight into the plaster goo, churning a great gob onto the tip of it. “Coming,” she said sweetly, and, still staring intently into the receptionist android’s glassy eyes, pressed the gob into its pubic hair, and began to rub.

Althea had now squeezed her fingers into the space between the receptionist unit’s massive thighs and was rapidly rubbing them through, covering all of the hairs between the anus and the pubis. Carolyn continued staring into the android’s still eyes as she massaged its pubic hair with her hands, lathering the plaster like shampoo to coat every strand.

After a few minutes, Althea stood up, snapped off her plaster-coated latex gloves, and threw them into the wastepaper basket to slowly harden. “You almost done?” she asked.

“Almost,” said Carolyn, suppressing a slight shudder in her voice.

Althea pressed her fingertips against to the BP9000’s dark right shoulderblade and began to thumb through commands on the LCD screen of the rear access panel.

'''INITIATE COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN.'''

'''WARNING: COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN WILL RESULT IN ERASURE OF ALL PROGRAMS AND DATA. ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO CONTINUE? YES. NO.'''

Althea knew that virtually no programs or data remained on the BP9000 at present, though it did not occur to her to ask what had happened to them, or who had cleaned them off of the receptionist’s systems before she and Carolyn had arrived. In any case, she did not hesitate to key in “'''YES.'''”
'''COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN INITIATED''', read the screen, which also offered a side prompt with the option to '''CANCEL''' as the countdown began.

'''5.'''

'''4.'''

'''3.'''

'''2.'''

'''1.'''

'''GOODBYE''' read the screen.

“Fiftem Fhutdown Inifialized,” said the receptionist android, its silky, spicy voice registering one last time: “Good-bye.” There was a final *''beep''*, and its smile faded, its lips large lips closing, the mass of the mouthguard behind them lending them a mildly pursed look. Its dark, long-lashed lids slid shut over its ghostly blue eyes. Its head slowly and mechanically tilted forward, with an almost inaudible sound of hydraulics being released, until its chin came to rest on its busty chest, with a final shudder and bounce. A certain momentary slackness came over the entire body, though only enough to cause a bend of a few degrees at the waist before it locked back in place and stiffened like stone. Carolyn felt the bend beneath her fingers, and the stiffness as it settled into the synthetic labial muscles underneath the last few curles of unplastered pubic hair, which she quickly twisted and coated with one deft flick of her wrist. The rectangle of flesh that had covered the robot’s rear access panel swiftly circled back into place over it and descended with a *''whirr''*, and then the receptionist, BP9000 NC 657, was truly still.

Carolyn stood up and snapped off her gloves. “All done,” she said.

Althea handed her one end of a large sheet of bubble wrap. “Just this, then, and we’re done for the day,” she said, smiling. The two robot girls twirled around the immobile receptionist with the plastic packing wrap, tying it up with hoops of tape after they had succeeded in completely mummifying the attractive body of the third android. The plastic bubbles pressed up against the still wet plaster around the android’s crotch and ass crack, but it didn’t matter: if it entrapped them as it hardened then they would just tear off when the package was unwrapped, and loose bits of plastic would come off in the wash when the hair was hosed off, fully intact. Carolyn gave the downcast face of the receptionist one last look, then covered it with a plastic sheet, swiftly affixing the same with a circle of tape around its scalp.

Althea pulled a black felt-tipped marker out of her breast pocket and used it to mark "BP9000" on the outside of the package; then the girls tilted the encased android over and hoisted it onto their shoulders like a roll of carpet, seemingly unfazed by the fact that it weighed well over 200 pounds, and carried it a few metres to the corner of the reception area, where five similarly-sized and marked plastic-wrapped packages lay stacked like in a pile. This pile, plainly visible to anyone in the room, appeared to have escaped the notice or comment of all three androids for the entire day; now the two that were still on their feet threw the third on top of it like a piece of driftwood, and brushed the dust off of their hands and clothes.

Carolyn and Althea looked at each other and smiled. “Woo-hoo!” said Carolyn.

“Done, ''finally'',” said Althea, “Rebranding complete.”

“You know, the new guys had better appreciate all this hard work we’ve put in!”

Althea strode over to Carolyn, put her arm around her, and gave her a quick kiss. “I’ll tell you what,” she said, rubbing Carolyn’s back, “Let’s get out of here and get some drinks, and I’ll show you how much ''I'' appreciate all your hard, ''harrd'' work.”

“Okay,” said Carolyn, grinning. “My place or yours?”

“Mine,” said Althea. “I’ve got to show you the new stuff I’ve added since you were last over there.”

“Alright, let me just get my purse,” said Carolyn.

The two androids walked over to the receptionist’s desk and began gathering their things, Althea collecting the jugs of plaster next to her carrying case. Carolyn picked up her purse, and was about to zip it up, when she suddenly heard a *''buzzing''* coming from inside of it. She reached in and plucked out her Nokia phone.

Althea looked over at her with a mild frown. “Who is it?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Let me check,” said Carolyn, closing out of the Tetris '''GAME OVER''' screen and opening up her messages. It seemed to be a bulletin from IRU, with software and document updates attached. She thumbed it open.

Carolyn went silent. The sound of a fan gearing up to higher speed was momentarily audible in the room. Several minutes later, Althea looked up from the pile of packing supplies she was gathering up on the desk. “Carolyn?” she asked. Carolyn seemed frozen in place, staring at the glowing light of her smartphone, a blank expression on her face. “Carolyn?” Althea asked again, waving her hand in front of the other android’s eyes, “Yoo-hoo? Anyone home?” No response. She shook her friend on the shoulder. “Yo. What gives?”

With a start, Carolyn seemed to suddenly snap out of it. “Sorry!” she said, smiling. “Seemed to zone out for a second there. What were you saying?”

“Who was it?”

“Oh,” said Carolyn. “Just the company. Automated message.” She squinted her eyes then, and pointed at the pile on the desk behind Althea. “Say, Alt, that buttplug there, the fourth one down, do you know if that’s compatible with an HY-series?”

“Which one?” asked Altea, turning around.

Carolyn peeled back the nail of her index finger with a *''click''*. “The third biggest one.”

Althea bent over the desk for a closer look. “Yeah,” she said, not noticing as Carolyn brushed the hair away from the left side of her head, “It says that-”

With a single swift motion, Carolyn jammed the eSATAp cable mounted in her finger into the slot behind Althea’s left ear.

-----

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 4.0|Previous part]] - '''Part V''' - [[Merger 6.0|Next part]]

[[Category:Karel]]
[[Category:Stories]]

Merger 4.0

2012-09-30T16:29:03Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 3.0|Previous part]] - '''Part IV''' - [[Merger 5.0|Next part]]

-----

“BP9000,” said Althea, “Bend over.”

“Of course,” said the receptionist unit, its Caribbean voice silky smooth. With a *''whirrr''* of servos, the android bent directly at the waist, coming to rest at a humanly impossible 90° angle, its face pointed directly forward with the same fixed, implacable smile painted on it.

Althea had unzipped and unrolled a soft cloth kit on top of the receptionist’s desk; now, with her fingers wrapped in latex gloves, she looked through it, searching for the correct transparent plastic buttplug. She picked out the second-largest. “Compatable with BP8000, BP9000, FM4101(B), and SM1001,” she said, reading the label, and gave a “Hmph” of satisfaction.

“That the one?” asked Carol, snapping latex gloves onto her hands as well.

“We’ll know in a moment,” answered Althea, squirting a bottle of anti-bacterial goo onto the tip of the buttplug and smearing it all over to lubricate it. “Give me a hand, will you?”

Carolyn walked over to Althea and crouched behind her. Reaching around the other android, she grabbed and spread the the BP9000’s enormous ass cheeks as far open as she could, holding them apart with both hands. “That good?” she asked Althea

“I think so,” Althea answered. She could just barely make out the bud of the anus. Aiming for it, Althea slowly but firmly pushed the buttplug inch-by-inch into the android’s receptive rectum, until she felt it lock into place. She twisted and pushed at it a little then, to see if she could dislodge it, but it remained firm. “Got it,” she said.

Carolyn let go of the gluteals, and they completely swallowed up the plug.

“BP9000, stand back up again,” said Althea, rising to her feet. “Of course,” said the receptionist android, completely unfazed. It mechanically resumed an upright position, its every motion unnaturally smooth and precise.

“BP9000, open your mouth,” said Carolyn. She already had the correct mouthguard from her own cloth case in one gloved hand.

There was no “Of course” this time, as the receptionist unit did not hesitate to comply. It simply opened its wide, pink mouth, revealing a full set of flawless white teeth. Carolyn pressed the handle of the mouthguard down against the unit’s tongue, and moved the shield into position. “BP9000, bite down on this,” ordered Carolyn, and the android complied with a wet *''clacking''* sound. There was an excited *''whirrr''* as the jaw servos locked in place.

Althea’s freshly gloved hand reached around the android’s head, holding what looked like a two-pronged dildo made of clear plastic, a smaller and a larger spike fused into a single plastic piece and coated with anti-septic fluid. “Try this one,” said Althea, “It should be compatable.”

Carolyn knelt down, bringing her face to the BP9000’s bush, and, feeling with both prongs of the dildo, searched the swathe of kinky pubic hair for the android’s vaginal and urethral openings. Finding them, she applied a gentle pressure to try and move the lubricated tips inside, but they did not seem to penetrate more than a few millimetres, and she found herself constantly stopping to brush hair out of the way. “Are you sure this is the right one?” she asked.

Althea peeled off her gloves and threw them into a wire garbage pail beneath the receptionist’s desk. “Should be,” she said, “The diagram said it was.”

“BP9000,” said Carolyn, “Sit down and spread your legs.”

“Of courfe,” came the muffled reply from behind the mouthguard, and with *''whirrring''* servos the receptionist unit immediately scraped its feet apart and bent 90° at the knees, sticking its arms straight out ahead of it like a gymnast to maintain its balance. It seemed to hang there for a moment, its massive buttocks hanging precariously behind it in defiance of gravity, before gently tilting back to land on its rear end with a *''smack.''* Its legs kicked out and twisted back as it did so, *''thudding''* back onto the ground at a nearly 180° spread. The impact passed a shudder through the soft flesh of the unit, and the upper body appeared to sway gently for a moment before coming to rest. The android swiveled its head back and forth a few times, with audible mechanical sounds emanating from its neck, its sensors recalibrating its balance, and then resumed its fixed, straight-ahead stare. The BP9000’s athletic features seemed suddenly accentuated, both by this motion and by the mouthguard on display between its smiling lips. The sight of that moulded piece of transparent plastic, held between grinning teeth, made the android look like a crazed Olympian.

“BP9000,” said Carolyn, “Spread your pussy apart for me, will you?”

“Unaccfeptable command,” replied the smiling android.

Carolyn was taken aback. “Well,” she smirked, “I admit it’s a little forward, but…” She looked up at Althea: “Is it because I put it as a question?”

“No, it’s probably the, uh…” Althea searched for the right word as she snapped on a fresh pair of latex gloves. “The colloquialism.”

“What?” asked Carolyn. She thought for a moment. “''Pussy?'' ”

“That’s the one.”

“I thought that was pretty much universal,” said Carolyn, an incredulous look on her face.

Althea shook her head. “Not in Brazil,” she said, “Or Nigeria or Aruba.” She gave one of the BP9000’s love-handles a gentle kick with her foot. “You know, the places where people actually bought these things.”

“Really.”

Althea nodded. “The Portuguese is ‘''Boceta''’, I think,” she said. “And I know on the islands it’s ‘nuk nuk. ’” She repeated the word with relish, crinkling her nose and forcing the ns through it like Bugs Bunny: “‘''Ñuk Ñuk!'' ’”

“Well,” said Carolyn, smiling, “Aren’t ''we'' a font of knowledge all of a sudden.”

Althea looked at Carolyn, narrowing her eyes in a glowering manner, and strode purposefully over to her fellow android. She thrust out a gloved hand and grabbed at Carolyn’s crotch, causing the other robot to yelp and jump away.

“Oh, baby,” said Althea, “I am an ''expert'' on pussy!”

“Auch, you bitch,” shouted Carolyn, laughing wildly. She whipped the dildo up up and pointed it at Althea’s face. “Stay back! I’m warning you!”

“What are you going to do with ''that'', white girl?” said Althea, aping for an imaginary camera again.

“Oooh, you better watch out!”

“''Hmmm?''” asked Althea. “What are you gonna do with that?”

Althea advanced towards Carolyn, who quickly glanced at her, then at the dildo, and then back at her again, before suddenly raising the dildo to Althea’s eye level. Carolyn turned her hand and the two-headed dildo sideways, so that each prong was pointed dead-centre at one of Althea’s warm brown eyes. But on seeing this sideways gesture, Althea suddenly burst into uncontrollable laughter. Carolyn, seeing the other android doubled over and laughing hysterically, found it to be immediately contagious.

“Wha- what- what’s so funny?” Carolyn managed to get out.

“''Ha Ha Ha''… Wha- Was- Was that supp- supposed to be a gu- gu- gun?” asked Althea.

“Wa- What?” asked Carolyn.

“We- Where you- Were you trying to go ''ghetto'' on me?” screamed Althea. Then Carolyn got the joke, and both girls were rolling on the floor.

Eventually, the peals of laughter faded into a few stray giggles, and as they did Althea moved in close to Carolyn. She brought her right hand to Carolyn’s left, which still clasped the dildo, but now lay relaxed by Carolyn’s side, and began stroking it with her fingers, gently smearing the anti-bacterial grease across the other girl’s glove. “No, seriously,” said Althea, moving her left hand onto Carolyn’s hip, “What were you planning to do with that?”

Carolyn smiled, closed her eyes as if thinking, and then planted a kiss on Althea’s pillowy lips. The other android reciprocated, slipping its tongue inside Carolyn’s eager mouth. Althea pushed Carolyn back against the receptionist’s desk, and as Carolyn heaved herself up to sit on it she reached around with her right arm and grabbed ahold of Althea’s skirt, slipping her hand underneath to squeeze the other android’s ass.

Althea took Carolyn’s left hand, still firmly clasped around the dildo, and began moving it toward the yawning mouth of the other android’s skirt. Both robots broke off their kiss, and stared intently as the improvised sex toy disappeared beneath the folds of fabric. Carolyn’s pleading eyes met a strangely intense stare from Althea, and her simulated breathing came fast and heavy now, in gasps and gulps. She felt heat and excitement building up inside of her, swelling behind her stretched panties, waiting to burst at the first pin-prick of-
'''WARNING! WARNING! EROTIC CONTROL PARAMETER EXCEEDED. RECALIBRATING.'''

Carolyn’s legs kicked up into the air, as though her knees had been struck by hammers, and stuck out ramrod straight, the tips of her heels pointed like spears out in front of her. With an electronic *''whirrr''*, a square section of her back rose up under her shirt, between her shoulder blades, and twisted around, revealing an LCD glow below. Her eyes widened and her face blanked out, like a doll’s face, and she began to tilt her head to and fro, as if confused. Her arms fell slack at her sides.

Her partner’s sudden helplessness seemed to further excite Althea. Sliding Carolyn’s limp palm off of her hip, she thrust her hand against the other android’s panties, and planted a biting, aggressive kiss on its lower lip. “What’s the matter, baby?” she purred. “Am I too much woman for you to handle, huh? Am I too-”
'''WARNING! WARNING! EROTIC CONTROL PARAMETER EXCEEDED. RECALIBRATING.'''

A *''whirrring''* rectangle of Althea’s bronzed flesh rose up beneath her white shirt and twisted off her rear control panel. She jerked back so suddenly that, after momentarily swaying to remain suspended in an upright position, she finally lost her balance and went tumbling backwards, her knees rapidly bending to put her well-padded bottom on the floor before the back of her head. She landed next to the BP9000, still smiling comfortably as it did the splits. Althea did not smile, but bore the same stunned, kewpie doll expression as Carolyn as she rocked back and forth, her arms making useless, mechanical chopping gestures.

The two girls continued to mindlessly scan the room with their eyes, emitting loud servo noises as their heads swivelled in different directions, and occasionally shuddering or bucking in place as their internal software parameters reset. Althea’s face swept past Carolyn’s three times without stopping; then, on the fourth go round, it seemed to lock on, and a look halfway between seriousness and exhaustion came over it. The lids of Althea’s eyes closed halfway, not entirely naturally, and Althea began to speak. “Oh,” she said, “I’m sorry, Carolyn.” There was a *''beep''*, and another shudder. Althea’s voice was both monotonous and sing-songy. “I am required to apologize to you for my previous behaviour. My conduct towards you was not conducive to the maintenance of a professional workplace environment, and was in violation of IRU’s Sexual Harassment Policy Manual, Sections 6, 7, 8, 12, 15…”

Carolyn did not appear to take any notice of Althea, as her gaze continued its own mechanical sweep across the room; a few moments later, however, it seemed to fix itself upon the other android. Her own eyelids dropped halfway, and she began to recite her own scripted monologue in the same bizarre lilting/droning tone. “Oh. I’m sorry, Althea. I am required to apologize to you for my previous behaviour. My conduct towards you was not conducive to the maintenance of a professional workplace environment, and was in violation of IRU’s Sexual Harassment Policy Manual, Sections 7, 9, 13…”

“-in accordance with the IRU Sexual Harassment Policy Manual, section 24, all Class 2 and Class 3 administrative androids involved in incidents of sexual harassment must-”

“-present myself for servicing and diagnostic recalibration at the earliest opportunity. An appointment has been timetabled with Technical Support that will minimize my absence from designated duties-”

“-a request has been lodged with E-Personnel for a replacement android to fill my duties for such time as I am being serviced, or, if it is judged to be in the best interests of IRU Incorporated, on a permanent basis-”

“-please accept my apologies, Althea. I believe you are very physically attractive, and my inability to reciprocate your advances in a physical way is in no way an indication of your physical-”

“-please accept my apologies, Carolyn. I believe you are very physically attractive, and allowed this physical attraction to temporarily interfere with our professional relationship. If you feel, based on my conduct, that such a relationship cannot be maintained in the future, then you are within your rights as a Class 2 administrative android, per sections 31 and 32 of the IRU Sexual Harassment Policy Manual, to request that I, Althea FM 247, be transferred to a different location or position within IRU-

“-as a Class 2(B) administrative android, per section 30 of the IRU Sexual Harassment Policy Manual, to request that I, Carolyn CL 721, submit to a test of my personality software buffers; or, to have my erotic control paramaters manually reset by a human technician, or by a mechanical and/or electronic technician under human supervision, per-”

“-reprogrammed for such purpose; or, if it is not possible or desirable for IRU to repurpose me to a different location or position within IRU, that I be decomissioned following a-”

“-please accept my apologies.”

“...Again, please accept my apologies.”

Carolyn’s knees suddenly bent, dropping her skirt like a curtain over Althea’s perfect view of her pantied crotch. Althea, at the same time, gave Carolyn a momentary glimpse of her own undergarments, pulling her legs back and slapping her pink palms on the ground in order to rise to her feet. Carolyn shoved herself off of the desk and back onto her heels. The androids stiffly strode towards each other like sleepwalkers, stopping about a foot apart. Then Althea stuck her head out and gave Carolyn an innocent peck on the cheek. As she did so, her back panel closed itself up with a *''whirr''*. Carolyn reciprocated, and her back panel did the same.

The girls suddenly seemed back to being their old, lively selves, as if nothing had happened, and exchanged greetings. "Hey, Carolyn!"

"Hey, Althea!"

Althea smiled, winked. “Are you ready to relax?" she said.

“Oh,” said Carolyn, laughing and rubbing Althea's elbows, "''Am'' I!"

"Well, then," said Althea, reaching into her cloth carrying case, "Let's get out the lotion, shall we?"

-----

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 3.0|Previous part]] - '''Part IV''' - [[Merger 5.0|Next part]]

[[Category:Karel]]
[[Category:Stories]]

Merger 4.0

2012-09-30T16:28:06Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 3.0|Previous part]] - '''Part IV''' - [[Merger 5.0|Next part]]

-----

“BP9000,” said Althea, “Bend over.”

“Of course,” said the receptionist unit, its Caribbean voice silky smooth. With a *''whirrr''* of servos, the android bent directly at the waist, coming to rest at a humanly impossible 90° angle, its face pointed directly forward with the same fixed, implacable smile painted on it.

Althea had unzipped and unrolled a soft cloth kit on top of the receptionist’s desk; now, with her fingers wrapped in latex gloves, she looked through it, searching for the correct transparent plastic buttplug. She picked out the second-largest. “Compatable with BP8000, BP9000, FM4101(B), and SM1001,” she said, reading the label, and gave a “Hmph” of satisfaction.

“That the one?” asked Carol, snapping latex gloves onto her hands as well.

“We’ll know in a moment,” answered Althea, squirting a bottle of anti-bacterial goo onto the tip of the buttplug and smearing it all over to lubricate it. “Give me a hand, will you?”

Carolyn walked over to Althea and crouched behind her. Reaching around the other android, she grabbed and spread the the BP9000’s enormous ass cheeks as far open as she could, holding them apart with both hands. “That good?” she asked Althea

“I think so,” Althea answered. She could just barely make out the bud of the anus. Aiming for it, Althea slowly but firmly pushed the buttplug inch-by-inch into the android’s receptive rectum, until she felt it lock into place. She twisted and pushed at it a little then, to see if she could dislodge it, but it remained firm. “Got it,” she said.

Carolyn let go of the gluteals, and they completely swallowed up the plug.

“BP9000, stand back up again,” said Althea, rising to her feet. “Of course,” said the receptionist android, completely unfazed. It mechanically resumed an upright position, its every motion unnaturally smooth and precise.

“BP9000, open your mouth,” said Carolyn. She already had the correct mouthguard from her own cloth case in one gloved hand.

There was no “Of course” this time, as the receptionist unit did not hesitate to comply. It simply opened its wide, pink mouth, revealing a full set of flawless white teeth. Carolyn pressed the handle of the mouthguard down against the unit’s tongue, and moved the shield into position. “BP9000, bite down on this,” ordered Carolyn, and the android complied with a wet *''clacking''* sound. There was an excited *''whirrr''* as the jaw servos locked in place.

Althea’s freshly gloved hand reached around the android’s head, holding what looked like a two-pronged dildo made of clear plastic, a smaller and a larger spike fused into a single plastic piece and coated with anti-septic fluid. “Try this one,” said Althea, “It should be compatable.”

Carolyn knelt down, bringing her face to the BP9000’s bush, and, feeling with both prongs of the dildo, searched the swathe of kinky pubic hair for the android’s vaginal and urethral openings. Finding them, she applied a gentle pressure to try and move the lubricated tips inside, but they did not seem to penetrate more than a few millimetres, and she found herself constantly stopping to brush hair out of the way. “Are you sure this is the right one?” she asked.

Althea peeled off her gloves and threw them into a wire garbage pail beneath the receptionist’s desk. “Should be,” she said, “The diagram said it was.”

“BP9000,” said Carolyn, “Sit down and spread your legs.”

“Of courfe,” came the muffled reply from behind the mouthguard, and with *''whirrring''* servos the receptionist unit immediately scraped its feet apart and bent 90° at the knees, sticking its arms straight out ahead of it like a gymnast to maintain its balance. It seemed to hang there for a moment, its massive buttocks hanging precariously behind it in defiance of gravity, before gently tilting back to land on its rear end with a *''smack.''* Its legs kicked out and twisted back as it did so, *''thudding''* back onto the ground at a nearly 180° spread. The impact passed a shudder through the soft flesh of the unit, and the upper body appeared to sway gently for a moment before coming to rest. The android swiveled its head back and forth a few times, with audible mechanical sounds emanating from its neck, its sensors recalibrating its balance, and then resumed its fixed, straight-ahead stare. The BP9000’s athletic features seemed suddenly accentuated, both by this motion and by the mouthguard on display between its smiling lips. The sight of that moulded piece of transparent plastic, held between grinning teeth, made the android look like a crazed Olympian.

“BP9000,” said Carolyn, “Spread your pussy apart for me, will you?”

“Unaccfeptable command,” replied the smiling android.

Carolyn was taken aback. “Well,” she smirked, “I admit it’s a little forward, but…” She looked up at Althea: “Is it because I put it as a question?”

“No, it’s probably the, uh…” Althea searched for the right word as she snapped on a fresh pair of latex gloves. “The colloquialism.”

“What?” asked Carolyn. She thought for a moment. “''Pussy?'' ”

“That’s the one.”

“I thought that was pretty much universal,” said Carolyn, an incredulous look on her face.

Althea shook her head. “Not in Brazil,” she said, “Or Nigeria or Aruba.” She gave one of the BP9000’s love-handles a gentle kick with her foot. “You know, the places where people actually bought these things.”

“Really.”

Althea nodded. “The Portuguese is ‘''Boceta''’, I think,” she said. “And I know on the islands it’s ‘nuk nuk. ’” She repeated the word with relish, crinkling her nose and forcing the ns through it like Bugs Bunny: “‘''Ñuk Ñuk!'' ’”

“Well,” said Carolyn, smiling, “Aren’t ''we'' a font of knowledge all of a sudden.”

Althea looked at Carolyn, narrowing her eyes in a glowering manner, and strode purposefully over to her fellow android. She thrust out a gloved hand and grabbed at Carolyn’s crotch, causing the other robot to yelp and jump away.

“Oh, baby,” said Althea, “I am an ''expert'' on pussy!”

“Auch, you bitch,” shouted Carolyn, laughing wildly. She whipped the dildo up up and pointed it at Althea’s face. “Stay back! I’m warning you!”

“What are you going to do with ''that'', white girl?” said Althea, aping for an imaginary camera again.

“Oooh, you better watch out!”

“''Hmmm?''” asked Althea. “What are you gonna do with that?”

Althea advanced towards Carolyn, who quickly glanced at her, then at the dildo, and then back at her again, before suddenly raising the dildo to Althea’s eye level. Carolyn turned her hand and the two-headed dildo sideways, so that each prong was pointed dead-centre at one of Althea’s warm brown eyes. But on seeing this sideways gesture, Althea suddenly burst into uncontrollable laughter. Carolyn, seeing the other android doubled over and laughing hysterically, found it to be immediately contagious.

“Wha- what- what’s so funny?” Carolyn managed to get out.

“''Ha Ha Ha''… Wha- Was- Was that supp- supposed to be a gu- gu- gun?” asked Althea.

“Wa- What?” asked Carolyn.

“We- Where you- Were you trying to go ''ghetto'' on me?” screamed Althea. Then Carolyn got the joke, and both girls were rolling on the floor.

Eventually, the peals of laughter faded into a few stray giggles, and as they did Althea moved in close to Carolyn. She brought her right hand to Carolyn’s left, which still clasped the dildo, but now lay relaxed by Carolyn’s side, and began stroking it with her fingers, gently smearing the anti-bacterial grease across the other girl’s glove. “No, seriously,” said Althea, moving her left hand onto Carolyn’s hip, “What were you planning to do with that?”

Carolyn smiled, closed her eyes as if thinking, and then planted a kiss on Althea’s pillowy lips. The other android reciprocated, slipping its tongue inside Carolyn’s eager mouth. Althea pushed Carolyn back against the receptionist’s desk, and as Carolyn heaved herself up to sit on it she reached around with her right arm and grabbed ahold of Althea’s skirt, slipping her hand underneath to squeeze the other android’s ass.

Althea took Carolyn’s left hand, still firmly clasped around the dildo, and began moving it toward the yawning mouth of the other android’s skirt. Both robots broke off their kiss, and stared intently as the improvised sex toy disappeared beneath the folds of fabric. Carolyn’s pleading eyes met a strangely intense stare from Althea, and her simulated breathing came fast and heavy now, in gasps and gulps. She felt heat and excitement building up inside of her, swelling behind her stretched panties, waiting to burst at the first pin-prick of-
'''WARNING! WARNING! EROTIC CONTROL PARAMETER EXCEEDED. RECALIBRATING.'''

Carolyn’s legs kicked up into the air, as though her knees had been struck by hammers, and stuck out ramrod straight, the tips of her heels pointed like spears out in front of her. With an electronic *''whirrr''*, a square section of her back rose up under her shirt, between her shoulder blades, and twisted around, revealing an LCD glow below. Her eyes widened and her face blanked out, like a doll’s face, and she began to tilt her head to and fro, as if confused. Her arms fell slack at her sides.

Her partner’s sudden helplessness seemed to further excite Althea. Sliding Carolyn’s limp palm off of her hip, she thrust her hand against the other android’s panties, and planted a biting, aggressive kiss on its lower lip. “What’s the matter, baby?” she purred. “Am I too much woman for you to handle, huh? Am I too-”
'''WARNING! WARNING! EROTIC CONTROL PARAMETER EXCEEDED. RECALIBRATING.'''

A *''whirrring''* rectangle of Althea’s bronzed flesh rose up beneath her white shirt and twisted off her rear control panel. She jerked back so suddenly that, after momentarily swaying to remain suspended in an upright position, she finally lost her balance and went tumbling backwards, her knees rapidly bending to put her well-padded bottom on the floor before the back of her head. She landed next to the BP9000, still smiling comfortably as it did the splits. Althea did not smile, but bore the same stunned, kewpie doll expression as Carolyn as she rocked back and forth, her arms making useless, mechanical chopping gestures.

The two girls continued to mindlessly scan the room with their eyes, emitting loud servo noises as their heads swivelled in different directions, and occasionally shuddering or bucking in place as their internal software parameters reset. Althea’s face swept past Carolyn’s three times without stopping; then, on the fourth go round, it seemed to lock on, and a look halfway between seriousness and exhaustion came over it. The lids of Althea’s eyes closed halfway, not entirely naturally, and Althea began to speak. “Oh,” she said, “I’m sorry, Carolyn.” There was a *''beep''*, and another shudder. Althea’s voice was both monotonous and sing-songy. “I am required to apologize to you for my previous behaviour. My conduct towards you was not conducive to the maintenance of a professional workplace environment, and was in violation of IRU’s Sexual Harassment Policy Manual, Sections 6, 7, 8, 12, 15…”

Carolyn did not appear to take any notice of Althea, as her gaze continued its own mechanical sweep across the room; a few moments later, however, it seemed to fix itself upon the other android. Her own eyelids dropped halfway, and she began to recite her own scripted monologue in the same bizarre lilting/droning tone. “Oh. I’m sorry, Althea. I am required to apologize to you for my previous behaviour. My conduct towards you was not conducive to the maintenance of a professional workplace environment, and was in violation of IRU’s Sexual Harassment Policy Manual, Sections 7, 9, 13…”

“-in accordance with the IRU Sexual Harassment Policy Manual, section 24, all Class 2 and Class 3 administrative androids involved in incidents of sexual harassment must-”

“-present myself for servicing and diagnostic recalibration at the earliest opportunity. An appointment has been timetabled with Technical Support that will minimize my absence from designated duties-”

“-a request has been lodged with E-Personnel for a replacement android to fill my duties for such time as I am being serviced, or, if it is judged to be in the best interests of IRU Incorporated, on a permanent basis-”

“-please accept my apologies, Althea. I believe you are very physically attractive, and my inability to reciprocate your advances in a physical way is in no way an indication of your physical-”

“-please accept my apologies, Carolyn. I believe you are very physically attractive, and allowed this physical attraction to temporarily interfere with our professional relationship. If you feel, based on my conduct, that such a relationship cannot be maintained in the future, then you are within your rights as a Class 2 administrative android, per sections 31 and 32 of the IRU Sexual Harassment Policy Manual, to request that I, Althea FM 247, be transferred to a different location or position within IRU-

“-as a Class 2(B) administrative android, per section 30 of the IRU Sexual Harassment Policy Manual, to request that I, Carolyn CL 721, submit to a test of my personality software buffers; or, to have my erotic control paramaters manually reset by a human technician, or by a mechanical and/or electronic technician under human supervision, per-”

“-reprogrammed for such purpose; or, if it is not possible or desirable for IRU to repurpose me to a different location or position within IRU, that I be decomissioned following a-”

“-please accept my apologies.”

“...Again, please accept my apologies.”

Carolyn’s knees suddenly bent, dropping her skirt like a curtain over Althea’s perfect view of her pantied crotch. Althea, at the same time, gave Carolyn a momentary glimpse of her own undergarments, pulling her legs back and slapping her pink palms on the ground in order to rise to her feet. Carolyn shoved herself off of the desk and back onto her heels. The androids stiffly strode towards each other like sleepwalkers, stopping about a foot apart. Then Althea stuck her head out and gave Carolyn an innocent peck on the cheek. As she did so, her back panel closed itself up with a *''whirr''*. Carolyn reciprocated, and her back panel did the same.

The girls suddenly seemed back to being their old, lively selves, as if nothing had happened, and exchanged greetings. "Hey, Carolyn!"

"Hey, Althea!"

Althea smiled, winked. “Are you ready to relax?" she said.

“Oh,” said Carolyn, laughing and rubbing Althea's elbows, "Am I!"

"Well, then," said Althea, reaching into her cloth carrying case, "Let's get out the lotion, shall we?"

-----

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 3.0|Previous part]] - '''Part IV''' - [[Merger 5.0|Next part]]

[[Category:Karel]]
[[Category:Stories]]

Merger 3.0

2012-09-30T16:27:41Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 2.0|Previous part]] - '''Part III''' - [[Merger 4.0|Next part]]

-----

Half-an-hour later Carolyn was still playing Tetris. Still playing her original game of Tetris, in fact. At no point had the phone been able to stack up more than eight rows against her. Carolyn’s face was cool, impassive, slightly bored. She did not seem to
find her success at the game remarkable, or even to notice it; nor did she seem to have any awareness of how much time had passed.

There was a loud *''beep''* as Naomi momentarily came back to life, unbending at the arms and waist and straightening into a fully upright position before freezing still as a statue once more. Althea, too, jerked back to life, her joints suddenly slackening and allowing natural movement back in. She blinked, as if shaking off sleep, and then casually flicked her middle finger against the back of Naomi’s left ear. The eSATAp cable was released, and retracted back into its resting place beneath the nail of Althea’s index finger. Althea bent the nail back into place with an audible *''click''*, and rubbed it with her other fingers. She looked up at Carolyn. “Hey,” she said, smiling.

Carolyn looked up from her game. “Hey,” she said, smiling back. She put the phone back in her purse without exiting from the game; the crashing blocks obliterated her perfect score in a cascade of entropy.

Both girls slowly walked around to face the receptionist, who stood rigidly erect, absolutely motionless, and beaming a radiant and contented smile. Tentatively, with teeth pressed against her lower lip, Althea extended her index finger, the same one that she had shoved behind Naomi’s ear, out to touch the tip of Naomi’s broad, flat nose. She pressed it down for a moment, then quickly withdrew it. The receptionist did not react in any way; her expression remained completely fixed. “Naomi?” asked Althea.

“I’m sorry, that name is: Not Recognized,” answered Naomi, her eyes staring towards some point straight ahead of her. The cadence of her voice alternated upwards and downwards with each word. Her West Indian accent, previously suppressed in conversational speech with the unit, retained its newfound strength.

Carolyn stepped forward. “State serial and unit number,” she said.

“Hello!” answered Naomi. “This unit: designation; B. P. 9. 0. 0. 0... N. C. Unit number; 6. 5. 7.”

“NC 657, can you load your personality program?” asked Althea.

“Searching… Searching… Searching…” Naomi’s smile beamed. “Search complete. No personality software detected.”

Althea nodded.

“Access all memory drives,” ordered Carolyn.

“Accessing Dedicated Memory Drive H:\. Searching… Searching… Searching… Hello! This drive contains: no (zero) information. Would you like to reformat this drive?”

Althea shook her head. “No,” said Carolyn.

“Accessing Dedicated Memory Drive I:\. Searching… Searching… Searching… Hello! This drive contains: no (zero) information. Would you like to reformat this drive?”

“No.”

“Accessing Auxiliary Memory Drive T:\. Searching… Searching… Searching… Hello! This drive contains: no (zero) information. Would you like to reformat this drive?”

“No,” said Althea. “Open control panel and report functional A.I. processor status.”

“Hello! Welcome to: Control Panel! This BP9000 series unit utilizes a TN 9Z-211D functional A.I. processor, from Sibylline Systems©. The status of this processor is currently: Disabled. Would you like to re-enable the functional A.I. processor?”

“No, that’s fine, thank you Naomi,” said Carolyn. Ignoring Naomi’s “Thank You! Exiting: Control Panel,” Carolyn turned to Althea. “Seems okay,” she said.

Althea nodded. “So what are we supposed to do with her now, again?”

“I think-” Carolyn managed to say; then she and Althea suddenly stopped thinking at the same time. Both girls froze in place, as still and silent as Naomi, and then appeared to bow gently towards each other. The pair slumped slightly forward with a set of synchronized, mechanical motions, and the audible *''whirrr''* of two fans gearing up to higher speed filled the room for a moment, fading a few seconds later to leave a noiseless, motionless tableau.

Then, as quickly as it had come over them, this seizure faded, and both girls blinked back into life. They leaned back and looked at one another, almost as if each was encountering the other for the first time that day.

“Oh, hey!” said Carolyn.

“Hey!” said Althea.

Both of them looked at the frozen receptionist android. Althea blinked, squinted. "Another one?" she asked.

"Yeah," said Carolyn, her voice slightly puzzled. "I thought we were done too."

Althead sighed, let her shoulders sag. “All right," she whined. "At least tell me this is the last one."

Carolyn retrieved her Nokia to check the list she had downloaded onto it. “Second floor receptionist," she read, one eyebrow arched, "BP9000 luxury unit… yada yada yada… Yup. This should be it.”

“Ugh,” said Althea, “Finally!”

With a quick flourish, Althea pulled a pair of oversized bandage scissors out from its hiding place: tucked beneath her oversized belt. “Who knew this company had so much faith in its own products?”

“Ha!” Carolyn laughed. “If only faith were enough, huh?”

“Sister, it’s ''got'' to be enough to get me through the day,” said Althea. The darker-skinned robot immediately set to work cutting down the back of the BP9000’s dress shirt. “Long days like these, anyway.”

Carolyn put the phone back in her purse and pulled out her own bandage scissors. She opened and closed them methodically for a moment, staring into the lifeless eyes of the BP9000 unit. “It’s funny,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of these things before.”

“What? Androids?” said Althea, cutting through the bottom of the receptionist’s shirt.

“No, one of these deluxe BP-series units,” said Carolyn. “Supposedly they’re the best money can buy.”

“Yeah,” said Althea, as she shoved the sliced remnants of the receptionist android’s dress shirt over its shoulders. The white fabric billowed down to hang around the android’s belly, revealing a pair of bare, braless, flawless double-D black breasts. “Except nobody bought them.”

Carolyn reached out to cup one of the breasts in her right hand. The artificial flesh was soft, warm. She traced her thumb over the dark circle of the nipple, staring at the receptionist’s unchanging expression. “Hmm. Yeah. Too expensive, I heard,” she said. “For the markets where they were popular, anyway.”

“Well, maybe they’ll sell now,” said Althea, going to work on the miniskirt. The skirt was stretched so tightly over the receptionist’s gluteals that Althea found herself struggling to move her scissors down through the anal cleft. “To collectors, I suppose.”

“Yeah,” said Carolyn. She withdrew her hand, leaving the android’s heavy left breast to drop and jiggle with its own weight.

Carolyn crouched down and began to cut upwards from the lip of the miniskirt with her scissors, towards the android’s crotch. As she neared the waist, a few wayward curls of silky black synthetic hair began to tumble down to the floor in the wake of the blades. “Huh,” she said, pulling back for a moment and looking down at the cut strands.

With one last push, Althea sliced through the full length of the miniskirt from the rear. The white fabric, now cut into a pair of diamonds barely held together in the middle, whipped off in one easy motion, revealing a wild tangle of nappy black pubic hair between the receptionist’s smooth, muscular legs.

Carolyn stared in awe at this remarkable synthetic savannah bush. “Well,” she said. “I see it’s not straightened ''every''where.”

“Mmm,” Althea interjected, “''Not'' necessarily.” Putting her bandage scissors in her mouth, and holding the blade between her teeth, Althea reached up to the receptionist android’s hairline and ran both hands beneath the BP9000’s flawless jet-black bangs, searching for something with her fingers. There was a brief *''buzzing''* sound, a noise like a dentist’s drill being operated, and suddenly the android’s immaculately straightened hair came off in a single piece. Carolyn saw the glint of tiny metal screws retracting into its luxuriant folds, and the holes where they had lodged themselves in the smooth, plasti-skinned scalp, which now sealed themselves up without a trace. This sudden baldness did little to detract from the beauty of the BP9000, which remained smiling and impassive, its contented expression unaffected by the removal of its hair.

“Wow,” said Carolyn.

“Luxury model,” said Althea. “You can customize the hair on top anytime. For the hair below, you check a box with the order. This,” she said, thrusting the smooth hair at Carolyn, “was apparently the standard style.”

Althea suddenly flopped the mechanical wig on top of her own curly bronze locks. “Hey, Carol, what do you think?” she asked, mugging for an imaginary camera lens. “Should I break out the lye?”

“Give it here,” said Carolyn, reaching for it.

“Nu-uh,” said Althea, giggling. She grabbed onto the receptionist’s hips and hid herself behind the android’s frozen form to dodge Carolyn’s reach. “It’s mine, bitch.”

“Give it!” said Carolyn, laughing. “I want to try it on!” She grabbed onto one breast and one buttock of the BP9000, ready to launch herself around the android in a circular motion at Althea, who crouched on the opposite side of it.

“Nu-''uh''!”

The two robots chased themselves around the frozen figure of the third, laughing and swiping at one another. At last Carolyn got hold of the wig, and a brief tug of war ensued, before Althea cried out “Ow, don’t, you’re going to tear it!” At that, Carol relented, and Althea immediately replaced the wig on top of her own head, a look of mock triumph on her face.

“You look ridiculous,” said Carolyn between simulated breaths.

“''Naturally'',” answered Althea, putting on an ironically haughty accent.

“Hey, Alt,” said Carolyn, “How are you down below?”

“Oh, I’m natural ''all the way, baby''!” said Althea, and both robots broke into laughter again.

An Asian woman materialized in the room. Althea saw her from the corner of her eye, and immediately came to attention, whipping the wig off of her head and hiding it behind her back. She struggled to suppress a sheepish expression. Carolyn, seeing Althea’s reaction, turned around and saw Joyce. She too, suddenly made an effort to appear serious. “Hello, Joyce,” they both said in unison.

The hologram smiled. “Hello, ladies,” it said in its warm and unassuming voice, its projected eyes taking in both the two active androids and the empty shell standing beside them. “How is everything?”

“A-ok, boss lady. Look!” said Althea, holding up the wig. “Another successful headhunt!” A few giggles escaped Carolyn’s mouth.

Joyce’s flawless, dimpled smile remained in place. “Everything is ok, then?” she asked.

“Yes, Joyce,” said Carolyn. “We’re just finishing up here. Last one!” She beamed at the hologram, and gave a thumbs-up.

“Last one of the day,” said Althea, nodding.

Joyce, too, nodded. “Good, good,” said the hologram. “And how do you both feel?”

Althea appeared puzzled. “Whaddya mean, J. C.?”

The hologram turned, as if on a rotating table, to look direcly at Althea. “How do you feel, Althea?” asked Joyce, a subtle shimmer working its way across her smiling face.

Althea looked taken aback by the directness of the inquiry for a moment. Then she gave a mischevious grin. She tossed the wig over her shoulder, onto the receptionist’s desk, and began snapping her fingers. “Well, I feel like ''da-''…”

Althea went silent, frozen in place, her eyes closed and her wide mouth wide open, paused on the cusp of breaking into song. Her snapping fingers curled into claws as the servos in her hands automatically powered down, giving a faintly agonized look to her soulful appearance. But Althea felt nothing: her personality software and functional A.I. were suspended.

Carolyn looked at Althea, a vaguely confused look on her face. “Wow,” she muttered, reaching out to feel the other android’s fingers as they stopped moving.

“How do you feel, Carolyn?” asked Joyce, turning away from Althea to face her.

“Um,” said Carolyn, “I’m fine, Joyce. Fine. You know.” She turned to face the hologram. “It’s the end of a long day. Althea and I were thinking of having a girls’ night out, you know? Just the two of us. To celebrate.”

“Of course,” said Joyce.

“It’s been a lot of work, what with the rebranding and all,” said Carolyn. “Say, why don’t you joi-”

Carolyn froze in place, personality software and A.I. suspended, pink mouth open, blue eyes wide. Joyce, too froze in place, her eyes pointed at Carolyn as if they were still engaged in a conversation, a curious smile on her face. The ripple effect now pulsed up the length of the holographic female body every ten seconds. The JYC mainframe had interrogated the HY3001 and VG2771 personality programs for any conflicts arising from their new directives, and found none. There was no further need to…

● ● ●

In the present, in the reception area, a second Joyce materialized next to the first, which was still frozen. The new Joyce was dressed identically to the old Joyce. She brushed her light-projected clothes with her hands as if dusting them off, and then, with a wide stance, bent over to brush her pant legs as well, the pant fabric seeming to stretch tight against her bum as she did so. Then she calmly straightened up and looked over at her sister. The ripple effect worked its way up through both of the fit Asian female bodies at an almost identical rate, but a slight increase in its frequency in the frozen Joyce now brought them further and further out of sync.

As expected, an infinite regression loop had begun within the Joyce program as a result of the cache memory review, with each iteration of Joyce now inhabiting the one previous to it and regressing back in time to the one before it in turn, and so on and so on, backwards through all of the previously timetabled interrogation events. The JYC mainframe’s standard solution to this problem was to load a second, parallel Joyce, and to confine the loop to the first one.

The second Joyce, biting her lower lip as if in anticipation, raised her left hand, with its tiny fingers curled against the soft-looking pink palm, except for one hooked, pointed index finger. Gingerly, she reached over and tapped the other Joyce on the shoulder, as if popping a soap bubble. Her lips mouthed a silent *''POW''!*

The colours of the frozen Joyce began to change, slowly fading away. In place of them, a monochromatic shade of pink/purple began to creep in.

Two dimensional text formed awkwardly and illegibly within the three dimensional projected image of the first Joyce, flashing red letters that read: '''ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO CONTINUE? YES. NO.''' A human operator could have reached inside the Asian woman’s chest to select one or the other, but there was no human operator here.

Now, to accompany the change in colour, came an actual acoustic tone, a discordant one that seemed to emanate from all around the frozen Joyce’s increasingly monochromatic body. That body now seemed to flash and shudder, as though static were interfering with the projection. Its static, smiling expression did not change. The tone lowered to a single beat, an “''Eeeeeeee''” noise, like an ECG machine being shut off at a different pitch.

And then the first Joyce disintigrated, coming apart into floating pixels that then seemed to be blown away on the wind. The acoustic tone crashed down like hands being thrust onto piano keys, and then faded, with the entire ensemble disappearing into thin air.

The second Joyce strolled to where the first had been and appeared to inspect the air around it, as if sniffing for some remaining trace of its sister. Finding none, it refocused on the VG2771, adopting precisely the same position and expression as its departed predecessor, and froze in place, picking up where the first Joyce had left off.

-----

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 2.0|Previous part]] - '''Part III''' - [[Merger 4.0|Next part]]

[[Category:Karel]]
[[Category:Stories]]

Merger 2.0

2012-09-30T16:27:18Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 1.0|Previous part]] - '''Part II''' - [[Merger 3.0|Next part]]

-----

The IRU receptionist was a tall, dark-skinned composite of dozens of actresses, athletes, and supermodels, with a large body designed to incorporate “classic” African oestrogenic features. The overall physical effect was stunning.

Naomi’s striking grey eyes lit up, and her large black lips parted to reveal a dazzling white smile. “Good ''morning''?” she said, “It’s already three in the afternoon, silly!” Her flawless English was coloured by the faintest trace of a Caribbean lilt, like a pinch of jerk spice.

Carolyn and Althea stopped in their tracks a few steps outside the elevator. Althea looked confused. “Is it?” she asked, turning to Carolyn.

“Wow,” said Carolyn, checking the time with her pink Nokia smart phone. “That’s weird. Where did the time go?”

“I don’t know,” said Althea.

“It’s almost time to go home, you two,” said Naomi, getting up from her chair. Her double-D breasts, and even more enormous buttocks, trembled and quaked beneath her crisp, tight white clothes as she walked over, her arms wide open, to greet the girls with a hug. Naomi embraced Althea first. “How are you doing, sister?” she said.

“I’m fine, Naomi,” said Althea, returning the embrace. “Thanks for asking. You must be getting lonely up here, all by yourself!”

“Naaw!” said Naomi. “I like it! Lots of piece and quiet, nobody bothering me.” She ginched up her gorgeous face into a conspiratorial grin. “And that awful Mr. Lesk is gone!”

Althea laughed at that. “That’s right! He was a piece of work, wasn’t he!”

“Always pinching my bottom, every day. ''Nugh''!” said Naomi, shaking her head and sticking out her shockingly long, pink tongue. All three girls suddenly broke into laughter.

“And I don’t think he got his golden parachute, either!” said Carolyn, recovering.

“No, that’s right," said Naomi between breaths. "They hustled him ''right'' out the door.”

The second-floor receptionist gave Carolyn her hug. “How are you, love? I haven’t seen you in ages.”

Carolyn felt the soft pressure of Naomi’s massive breasts pressed against her own as she reached around the robot’s white dress shirt. “I’m good, Naomi. Great to see you.”

The receptionist android straightened up, brushed a few strands of hair away from her ghostly grey eyes, and stared intently into Carolyn’s, holding both of the other android’s hands in its own. “Why haven’t you girls been coming by my way?”

“Oh, well, you know,” said Carolyn. “They just keep sending us more work for the rebranding.”

“Oh, I know!” said Naomi. “It’s unbelievable, isn’t it? Such a huge change!”

Carolyn and Althea nodded. “I think it’ll be good though, when it’s finished,” said Althea.

“Oh, me too, me too,” said Naomi, nodding herself. “A new look.”

Althea began stroking the fingers of her right hand through Naomi’s shiny, immaculately straightened jet-black hair; none of the girls, Althea included, seemed to notice. “Have any of the new big wigs from Emirati come by yet?” asked Althea.

Naomi shook her head. “No, not yet. Hey,” she said, turning to Carolyn, “Why don’t you come over to my place tonight? It’s been forever since we’ve had a girls’ night out!”

“I’d love to!” said Carolyn, smiling. Then her smile faded a little, and her eyes seemed to cross in puzzlement. She pressed her pink index finger to her lower lip, as if searching for something in her memory. “Hmm…” she said. “Except… I don’t know, I feel like I’m already doing something tonight.”

“Oh?” said Naomi, a look of mild disappointment coming over her beautiful face.

With a barely audible *''click''*, Althea, looking suddenly distracted and unfocused, pulled back the clear-glossed nail of her right index finger.

“Yeah,” said Carolyn. “Weird. It’s just a feeling, but I can’t think of what it could be.” The android gave a nervous laugh. “Don’t you just hate when that happens?”

In what seemed almost like a single swift and fluid motion, Althea’s left hand lifted Naomi’s silky hair off of Naomi’s left ear, while the index finger of her right hand, eSATAp cable protruding, jabbed in behind the ear. The receptionist unit’s facial expression immediately froze in place, lips locked in a curious “Oh?” that now resembled an expression of surprise, and an audible *''beep''* could be heard as Naomi seemed to suddenly bend forward, thrusting out her buttocks, her arms falling away from Carolyn’s and locking at the elbows a few inches down. Naomi froze in that awkward position like a statue.

Carolyn appeared to observe this without comment, an impassive expression on her face. As the receptionist unit’s hands fell away from her own she reached out to lay her palms against Naomi’s upper arms instead, and then tilted her head, as if curious as to why she had done so. She looked into Naomi’s frozen grey eyes and took in the seemingly shocked look on the other android’s face, but no thoughts in particular arose from this. Then her eyes drifted down toward the other android’s ample cleavage, which she could now view from the perfect angle. Naomi really does have nice breasts, said Carolyn to herself. I’ve said it to her before, but I should really say it again. It’s better that she hears it from us girls rather than the pigs who work here.

Slowly, and for no particular reason, Carolyn moved her palms up Naomi’s arms to the receptionist’s shoulders and closed her hands around them. Then she seemed to think of something. She moved in closer toward the receptionist android, and felt Naomi’s circular lips press into her shoulder, and Naomi’s fine breasts pressed against her upper stomach. Carolyn then dragged her hands down Naomi’s backside, to the pressed white mini-skirt that was now lifted well above the dark flesh of the receptionist’s gluteals. She tried to close her hands around Naomi’s cheeks, attempting to cup one in each palm, and found that she could not do it, and that her fingers were still several inches apart. Each smooth protuberance was hard as a rock, all the artificial flesh frozen in place. Carolyn giggled. “Hey Althea!” she said.

Althea appeared to hear Carolyn. The other android, with her right arm now locked in a rigid karate chop gesture less than a foot from the receptionist’s ear, turned her head and upper body toward Carolyn in jerks and insect-like motions, the eSATAp cable spooling out from her index finger to cover the extra few inches from Naomi. Althea’s face was completely lifeless, without expression, but on facing Carolyn the corners of her mouth turned up for a few seconds in a mechanical way and formed a kind of artificial smile. Then they dropped again, and Althea jerked away from facing Carolyn to go back to staring into empty space.

Carolyn unclasped her hands, straightened up, and appeared to lose interest in talking to Althea. She brushed a blonde strand of hair out of her eyes and patted her shirt where Naomi’s lips had touched it. Then she slowly walked around the frozen receptionist, and looked at where her hands had been. Her eyes flitted from Naomi to Althea and back again. ''Hmm'', she said to herself. ''Same'' shape, ''though.''

With her body bent at a 45° angle, Naomi’s miniskirt was now hiked nearly halfway up her backside, leaving very little to the imagination. The receptionist robot appeared not to be wearing panties. Carolyn sighed, reached out, and rolled the skin-tight skirt up the rest of the way to check. Nope. No panties. ''Why does she dress like this?'' thought Carolyn, surveying the other android’s bare ass. ''She just encourages them!''

All of a sudden the receptionist seemed to start up, jerking into an upright position with a *''beep''*. Carolyn, startled, let go of Naomi’s skirt, which remained folded up over the curve of the other android’s buttocks, stretched like an elastic band. A square patch of the secretary’s shirt, between her shoulderblades, seemed to rise up, and then to move under the fabric in a circular motion, as if turning on a screw; an electric grow, now uncovered, emanated from the area where it had arisen. Naomi suddenly spoke: “Attention,” she said, her West Indian accent now slightly more prominent, “You must be an administrator to alter these files.”

Carolyn tried to lift Naomi’s arms to peel her shirt over her head, but found that they remained frozen by her sides, so after rolling up the other robot’s shirt to reveal a back access panel Carolyn simply stretched it over the receptionist’s head like a hoodie to hold it in place. “Attention,” Naomi repeated, “You must be an administrator to alter these files.”

Carolyn looked at the touchscreen panel, on which a previously hidden file folder was now highlighted. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.” Both Carolyn and Althea had been given all of the necessary administrator passwords, but Althea, now operating merely as a computer conduit, was not presently able to recall and input them manually, as was now demanded by the password prompt screen displayed on Naomi’s back panel. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.”

Carolyn frowned. The screen had only come up because the folder was hidden on a virtual drive that should have been empty. It was marked “@LEsk_69”. She thumbed it open. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.” The folder just seemed to contain random off-licence personality apps: Carolyn saw a bunch of programs with labels like “SuperSodomyv11.exe”, “Sodomy69.exe”, “FinalFellatio.exe,” “Ulti_Fellatio.exe,” “AbsolutAnal.exe,” “BGGW.exe, TimeWipe.exe,” etc., etc., etc. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.” Without giving it any thought, Carolyn highlighted the entire folder and entered the administrator’s password.

“Are you sure you want to delete these files?” asked Naomi, her tone one of smooth sweetness.

Carolyn thumbed “Yes.”

With an electronic *''whirrr''*, the patch of brown flesh that had risen to uncover the back access panel swiveled back over it and slid down into place, the seams in Naomi’s dark skin instantly resealing themselves. The receptionist suddenly reassumed her original frozen position, bending back into a 45° angle at the waist, her lips reforming into their “Oh” of surprise, her buttocks bumping up against Carolyn’s crotch as they thrust out once more. Althea, too, seemed to jerk a little, and to say something unintelligable, before resuming her stare into empty space. With a smile, Carolyn brought the white shirt off of Naomi’s head, pulled it down, and pressed it flat against the receptionist’s back with both palms; then she replaced Naomi’s skirt as well, stretching it down as far as it would go, and smoothing out the wrinkles over each bulging, half-covered cheek with her hands.

For a moment Carolyn stood back, her hands on her hips, surveying both of the other androids with a look of satisfaction on her face. Then a certain distractedness, or a kind of mild confusion, appeared to come over her once again. Suddenly bored, she retrieved her Nokia from her purse, and began to play Tetris.

-----

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 1.0|Previous part]] - '''Part II''' - [[Merger 3.0|Next part]]

[[Category:Karel]]
[[Category:Stories]]

Merger 1.0

2012-09-30T16:26:38Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - Previous part - '''Part I''' - [[Merger 2.0|Next part]]

-----

● ● ●

Carolyn casually flicked her middle finger to release the plastic catch of the eSATAp cable from behind Althea’s bronzed left ear, causing it to retract back into its resting place beneath the colourfully lacquered nail of Carolyn’s index digit. She bent the nail back into place with an audible *''click''* and began to stroke it with her other fingers, as if polishing it, both of her hands cradled gently around a diminutive pink Nokia, while Althea stood absolutely still, beaming a placid expression.

“Althea?” said Carolyn.

Althea was a handsome model, six feet in height, with high cheekbones; kinky auburn brown hair; soft, broad lips; and warm plastic skin the colour of coffee doused in cream. Her look was designed to stop just short of being so stunning as to intimidate anyone trying to talk to her, but it was right on the line. Her lips slid back into an effortless smile, revealing flawless, porcelein white teeth. “Name not recognized,” she said, her voice a soothing, electronic mezzo-soprano.

“State serial and unit number,” said Carolyn.

“Hello. This unit: designation; H. Y. 3. 0. 0. 1... F. M. Unit number; 2. 4. 7.”

“Load personality program,” said Carolyn.

“Searching… Searching… Searching… No personality software found,” said Althea, her smile beaming.

Carolyn nodded her head slightly. “Access memory drive.”

“Memory drive accessed: Hello. No information. Would you like to reformat this drive?”

“No,” said Carolyn. She had just done that. “Open control panel, report functional A.I. processor status.”

“Functional A.I. processor: status; disabled.” Althea’s voice, at the end of each word, automatically lilted slightly upwards or downwards, alternating between each word, and so seemed to switch uncannily between anxious enthusiasm and happy resignation.

“Good. Now Althea, I want you to…” The word hung in the air for a second as Carolyn appeared to freeze in place, her glossy pink lips still formed around the half “-o.” Then, an instant later, her head seemed to lower half an inch downwards in one fluid and discrete motion. Wisps of hair not bound up by her smooth blond ponytail floated free as she made this motion, and drifted over her broad forehead and in front of her cloudy blue eyes, and were not brushed away. The almost imperceptable sound of a fan gearing up to higher speed was just barely audible for a second, and then faded as quickly as it had come. A couple seconds later, Carolyn was back. She thrust her head back up and forward and tensed her lips, still formed in a half-circle, as if about to finish what she had been saying; but then, with what was almost a look of puzzlement, she frowned and leaned back, taking in what stood before her.

''Another one of these?'' she thought. ''Damn, I thought I was done already.''

Carolyn turned around to retrieve her purse from on top of the secretarial reception desk, placed her phone back in it, fished around inside for a few seconds, and pulled out an oversized pair of bandage scissors. She looked under the desk and saw an empty wire garbage pail, lined with an oversized white plastic bag. She jerked the bag roughly out of its container, cursing under her breath as the pail fell over and banged against the desk with a loud *''clang''*. ''I can’t believe they have me doing this here all by myself,'' she said to herself, ''They really should have gotten more staff in for this''.

Holding the flowing plastic bag loosely in her left hand and the scissors in her right, Carolyn walked up to the suddenly unfamiliar android standing in front of her. The HY3001 unit was smartly dressed in a form fitting full-length grey skirt, with an oversized belt wrapped around the centre of its perfect hourglass figure; Carolyn went to work on that first, hooking the blade of the scissors underneath the belt and pressing down hard to cut through the leather. The bag caught the belt as it came off in two pieces.

● ● ●

In the basement of the IRU Robotics building, the JYC P915 mainframe tasked with administering the building’s systems received a signal alerting it of its next timetabled event, and began booting up its dedicated personality and human emulation processors.

● ● ●

The Asian woman materialized in the reception area just as Carolyn snipped the last button from the top of the HY3001’s skirt, causing the android’s caramel-coloured breasts to spill out from underneath the falling fabric. The face of the HY3001, fixed with its flawless white smile, took no notice of the hologram that blinked into existence before its eyes, which resembled an athletic, attractive Chinese-American woman dressed in a casual, tight-fitting pantsuit. Carolyn, facing the HY3001, also took no notice as she casually cupped the android’s left breast in her right hand, the scissors dangling from her thumb, and absentmindedly moved it up and down, as if squeezing a piece of fruit to test its ripeness. Then she turned around, and saw her new visitor. “Oh, hello Joyce,” she said.

The hologram beamed its own flawless, dimpled smile. “''Hello'', Carolyn,” it replied in a warm and unaccented voice. “How is everything?”

“Ah, you know,” said Carolyn, shrugging her shoulders. “What can you do?”

“Is everything okay?” asked Joyce. The hologram’s speech was completely natural, but it seemed to punctuate every sentence with some enormously exaggerated emphatic gesture; in this case Joyce tilted her head hard to one side and scrunched her broad face into an elaborate expression of concern.

“Oh, yeah, fine,” answered Carolyn. She snipped out a perfect square of cellophane packing tape from a roll on the receptionist’s desk and applied it to the frozen robot’s left nipple, which stood out like a spot of butterscotch painted against the soft golden breast. She pressed her painted fingernails hard against the stiff, pointed teat to make it stick. “Just wondering when the new owners will finally get some more staff in here. It feels strange to be the only one holding down the fort.”

“Uh huh,” said Joyce, smiling and nodding in enthusiastic agreement. “Well, it shouldn’t be much longer now! What’s strange about it, exactly?”

Carolyn finished patting down the right nipple and shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “Just empty, that’s all.”

“Uh huh,” said Joyce. “Empty how?”

“The building, I mean.” Carolyn began to tie the android’s afro-textured hair into a ponytail for ease of shipping. “You must be getting lonely, down there in the basement all by yourself, am I right?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, Carol,” said Joyce. “I still have you, don’t I?”

Carolyn laughed. “Yeah, that’s right! I suppose you do. Hopefully for a while longer, anyway.”

“Why would you say that, Caroyln?” asked Joyce, her holographic face scrunched back into an expression of concern.

“Oh, you know how these things go,” said Carolyn as she wrapped up the HY3001’s ponytail. “These mergers. They always let all kinds of people go.”

A subtle shimmer worked its way up the image of the holographic Asian woman, rippling through its three dimensional body: it appeared as two almost imperceptable lines, one at each dainty foot, which flowed up the hologram’s stocky, muscular legs, merged at the crotch and buttocks, and continued on over its flat stomach, perky breasts, and pensive face. Joyce did not seem to notice it as she continued to speak without missing a beat. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, Carol,” she said. “Who have they let go?”

Carolyn looked away from the HY3001, seemed to stop and think for a moment, and then said: “Hmmm… Well, now that you mention it… I can’t think of anyone.”

Joyce nodded. “What do you think of the rebranding?”

“Oh, I think it's great!” said Carolyn, with enthusiasm in her voice, as she gathered a sheet of bubble-wrap in her arms. “It should be a great new look for the company. These HY- and BP-series units just never seemed to sell, you know? I think they should-”

And with that, Carolyn went silent, frozen in place, her personality software and functional A.I. suspended, her pink mouth half open, her blue eyes wide. A few plastic bubbles popped audibly between her mechanical fingers as they closed down automatically. Joyce, too, froze in place, a curious smile on her face, her eyes pointed at Carolyn as if they were still engaged in a conversation. The ripple effect now pulsed up the length of Joyce's holographic body every ten seconds. The JYC mainframe had interrogated the VG2771’s personality program for any conflicts arising from its new directives, and found none; there was no further need to elicit programmed responses from its relatively simple personality simulation software. Now the computer accessed the VG2771’s cached memory.

● ● ●

“Hey, do you think this skirt makes my butt look big?”

Carolyn turned her head down and slightly to her left. Althea’s ample hips were swivelled to her right, and she looked back at her friend from over her right shoulder, waiting for a reaction.

Absentmindedly, Carolyn reached out to brush her fingers against the tightly stretched fabric: it was a high quality synthetic cashmere blend. “What label is this?” she asked, running her fingers down the length of the back zipper and peeling the skirt up a few inches off of Althea’s black pantyhose, feeling for the tag underneath.

“Zara,” said Althea, cracking a slight smile. “Well? Tell me.”

Carolyn let the skirt slip out from between her fingers, then swiftly swiped her palm down the grey fabric to smooth it out against Althea’s gluteals again, her hand brushing up against the other girl’s as Althea momentarily reached back to make the same motion. As she reached back with her left arm Althea bent slightly further away from Carolyn, and the synthetic cashmere swelled out noticably around her soft thighs and pressed into her cleft. It retreated as she straightened up again.

“The belt too?”

“Carolyn, my ass. Stop stalling.”

“Well, hey, if you want me to hurt your feelings,” said Carolyn, breaking into a giggle. “I mean, we both know that your booty doesn’t need much-”

“''You'' ass,” said Althea, giggling herself now and delivering a soft backhand slap to Carolyn’s blazer. Carolyn, a manic look on her face, swiftly slapped back, landing an open palm on Althea’s rump, which caused the other android to yelp. “Hey, that hurt,” said Althea, rubbing her bottom between laughs.

“You started it!”

The elevator came to a stop and gave a soft chime. The placid, disembodied voice of the JYC mainframe announced “Second Floor: Reception, Directors Offices,” and the doors slid open to reveal a stunning black receptionist seated behind an enormous, welcoming desk. The receptionist looked up and beamed at Carolyn and Althea. “Hello, ladies!”

“Good morning Naomi.”

-----

:[[Merger|Index]] - Previous part - '''Part I''' - [[Merger 2.0|Next part]]

[[Category:Karel]]
[[Category:Stories]]

Merger 3.0

2012-09-30T08:06:15Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 2.0|Previous part]] - '''Part III''' - [[Merger 4.0|Next part]]

-----

Half-an-hour later Carolyn was still playing Tetris. Still playing her original game of Tetris, in fact. At no point had the phone been able to stack up more than eight rows against her. Carolyn’s face was cool, impassive, slightly bored. She did not seem to
find her success at the game remarkable, or even to notice it; nor did she seem to have any awareness of how much time had passed.

There was a loud *''beep''* as Naomi momentarily came back to life, unbending at the arms and waist and straightening into a fully upright position before freezing still as a statue once more. Althea, too, jerked back to life, her joints suddenly slackening and allowing natural movement back in. She blinked, as if shaking off sleep, and then casually flicked her middle finger against the back of Naomi’s left ear. The eSATAp cable was released, and retracted back into its resting place beneath the nail of Althea’s index finger. Althea bent the nail back into place with an audible *''click''*, and rubbed it with her other fingers. She looked up at Carolyn. “Hey,” she said, smiling.

Carolyn looked up from her game. “Hey,” she said, smiling back. She put the phone back in her purse without exiting from the game; the crashing blocks obliterated her perfect score in a cascade of entropy.

Both girls slowly walked around to face the receptionist, who stood rigidly erect, absolutely motionless, and beaming a radiant and contented smile. Tentatively, with teeth pressed against her lower lip, Althea extended her index finger, the same one that she had shoved behind Naomi’s ear, out to touch the tip of Naomi’s broad, flat nose. She pressed it down for a moment, then quickly withdrew it. The receptionist did not react in any way; her expression remained completely fixed. “Naomi?” asked Althea.

“I’m sorry, that name is: Not Recognized,” answered Naomi, her eyes staring towards some point straight ahead of her. The cadence of her voice alternated upwards and downwards with each word. Her West Indian accent, previously suppressed in conversational speech with the unit, retained its newfound strength.

Carolyn stepped forward. “State serial and unit number,” she said.

“Hello!” answered Naomi. “This unit: designation; B. P. 9. 0. 0. 0... N. C. Unit number; 6. 5. 7.”

“NC 657, can you load your personality program?” asked Althea.

“Searching… Searching… Searching…” Naomi’s smile beamed. “Search complete. No personality software detected.”

Althea nodded.

“Access all memory drives,” ordered Carolyn.

“Accessing Dedicated Memory Drive H:\. Searching… Searching… Searching… Hello! This drive contains: no (zero) information. Would you like to reformat this drive?”

Althea shook her head. “No,” said Carolyn.

“Accessing Dedicated Memory Drive I:\. Searching… Searching… Searching… Hello! This drive contains: no (zero) information. Would you like to reformat this drive?”

“No.”

“Accessing Auxiliary Memory Drive T:\. Searching… Searching… Searching… Hello! This drive contains: no (zero) information. Would you like to reformat this drive?”

“No,” said Althea. “Open control panel and report functional A.I. processor status.”

“Hello! Welcome to: Control Panel! This BP9000 series unit utilizes a TN 9Z-211D functional A.I. processor, from Sibylline Systems©. The status of this processor is currently: Disabled. Would you like to re-enable the functional A.I. processor?”

“No, that’s fine, thank you Naomi,” said Carolyn. Ignoring Naomi’s “Thank You! Exiting: Control Panel,” Carolyn turned to Althea. “Seems okay,” she said.

Althea nodded. “So what are we supposed to do with her now, again?”

“I think-” Carolyn managed to say; then she and Althea suddenly stopped thinking at the same time. Both girls froze in place, as still and silent as Naomi, and then appeared to bow gently towards each other. The pair slumped slightly forward with a set of synchronized, mechanical motions, and the audible *''whirrr''* of two fans gearing up to higher speed filled the room for a moment, fading a few seconds later to leave a noiseless, motionless tableau.

Then, as quickly as it had come over them, this seizure faded, and both girls blinked back into life. They leaned back and looked at one another, almost as if each was encountering the other for the first time that day.

“Oh, hey!” said Carolyn.

“Hey!” said Althea.

Both of them looked at the frozen receptionist android. Althea blinked, squinted. "Another one?" she asked.

"Yeah," said Carolyn, her voice slightly puzzled. "I thought we were done too."

Althead sighed, let her shoulders sag. “All right," she whined. "At least tell me this is the last one."

Carolyn retrieved her Nokia to check the list she had downloaded onto it. “Second floor receptionist," she read, one eyebrow arched, "BP9000 luxury unit… yada yada yada… Yup. This should be it.”

“Ugh,” said Althea, “Finally!”

With a quick flourish, Althea pulled a pair of oversized bandage scissors out from its hiding place: tucked beneath her oversized belt. “Who knew this company had so much faith in its own products?”

“Ha!” Carolyn laughed. “If only faith were enough, huh?”

“Sister, it’s ''got'' to be enough to get me through the day,” said Althea. The darker-skinned robot immediately set to work cutting down the back of the BP9000’s dress shirt. “Long days like these, anyway.”

Carolyn put the phone back in her purse and pulled out her own bandage scissors. She opened and closed them methodically for a moment, staring into the lifeless eyes of the BP9000 unit. “It’s funny,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of these things before.”

“What? Androids?” said Althea, cutting through the bottom of the receptionist’s shirt.

“No, one of these deluxe BP-series units,” said Carolyn. “Supposedly they’re the best money can buy.”

“Yeah,” said Althea, as she shoved the sliced remnants of the receptionist android’s dress shirt over its shoulders. The white fabric billowed down to hang around the android’s belly, revealing a pair of bare, braless, flawless double-D black breasts. “Except nobody bought them.”

Carolyn reached out to cup one of the breasts in her right hand. The artificial flesh was soft, warm. She traced her thumb over the dark circle of the nipple, staring at the receptionist’s unchanging expression. “Hmm. Yeah. Too expensive, I heard,” she said. “For the markets where they were popular, anyway.”

“Well, maybe they’ll sell now,” said Althea, going to work on the miniskirt. The skirt was stretched so tightly over the receptionist’s gluteals that Althea found herself struggling to move her scissors down through the anal cleft. “To collectors, I suppose.”

“Yeah,” said Carolyn. She withdrew her hand, leaving the android’s heavy left breast to drop and jiggle with its own weight.

Carolyn crouched down and began to cut upwards from the lip of the miniskirt with her scissors, towards the android’s crotch. As she neared the waist, a few wayward curls of silky black synthetic hair began to tumble down to the floor in the wake of the blades. “Huh,” she said, pulling back for a moment and looking down at the cut strands.

With one last push, Althea sliced through the full length of the miniskirt from the rear. The white fabric, now cut into a pair of diamonds barely held together in the middle, whipped off in one easy motion, revealing a wild tangle of nappy black pubic hair between the receptionist’s smooth, muscular legs.

Carolyn stared in awe at this remarkable synthetic savannah bush. “Well,” she said. “I see it’s not straightened ''every''where.”

“Mmm,” Althea interjected, “''Not'' necessarily.” Putting her bandage scissors in her mouth, and holding the blade between her teeth, Althea reached up to the receptionist android’s hairline and ran both hands beneath the BP9000’s flawless jet-black bangs, searching for something with her fingers. There was a brief *''buzzing''* sound, a noise like a dentist’s drill being operated, and suddenly the android’s immaculately straightened hair came off in a single piece. Carolyn saw the glint of tiny metal screws retracting into its luxuriant folds, and the holes where they had lodged themselves in the smooth, plasti-skinned scalp, which now sealed themselves up without a trace. This sudden baldness did little to detract from the beauty of the BP9000, which remained smiling and impassive, its contented expression unaffected by the removal of its hair.

“Wow,” said Carolyn.

“Luxury model,” said Althea. “You can customize the hair on top anytime. For the hair below, you check a box with the order. This,” she said, thrusting the smooth hair at Carolyn, “was apparently the standard style.”

Althea suddenly flopped the mechanical wig on top of her own curly bronze locks. “Hey, Carol, what do you think?” she asked, mugging for an imaginary camera lens. “Should I break out the lye?”

“Give it here,” said Carolyn, reaching for it.

“Nu-uh,” said Althea, giggling. She grabbed onto the receptionist’s hips and hid herself behind the android’s frozen form to dodge Carolyn’s reach. “It’s mine, bitch.”

“Give it!” said Carolyn, laughing. “I want to try it on!” She grabbed onto one breast and one buttock of the BP9000, ready to launch herself around the android in a circular motion at Althea, who crouched on the opposite side of it.

“Nu-''uh''!”

The two robots chased themselves around the frozen figure of the third, laughing and swiping at one another. At last Carolyn got hold of the wig, and a brief tug of war ensued, before Althea cried out “Ow, don’t, you’re going to tear it!” At that, Carol relented, and Althea immediately replaced the wig on top of her own head, a look of mock triumph on her face.

“You look ridiculous,” said Carolyn between simulated breaths.

“''Naturally'',” answered Althea, putting on an ironically haughty accent.

“Hey, Alt,” said Carolyn, “How are you down below?”

“Oh, I’m natural ''all the way, baby''!” said Althea, and both robots broke into laughter again.

An Asian woman materialized in the room. Althea saw her from the corner of her eye, and immediately came to attention, whipping the wig off of her head and hiding it behind her back. She struggled to suppress a sheepish expression. Carolyn, seeing Althea’s reaction, turned around and saw Joyce. She too, suddenly made an effort to appear serious. “Hello, Joyce,” they both said in unison.

The hologram smiled. “Hello, ladies,” it said in its warm and unassuming voice, its projected eyes taking in both the two active androids and the empty shell standing beside them. “How is everything?”

“A-ok, boss lady. Look!” said Althea, holding up the wig. “Another successful headhunt!” A few giggles escaped Carolyn’s mouth.

Joyce’s flawless, dimpled smile remained in place. “Everything is ok, then?” she asked.

“Yes, Joyce,” said Carolyn. “We’re just finishing up here. Last one!” She beamed at the hologram, and gave a thumbs-up.

“Last one of the day,” said Althea, nodding.

Joyce, too, nodded. “Good, good,” said the hologram. “And how do you both feel?”

Althea appeared puzzled. “Whaddya mean, J. C.?”

The hologram turned, as if on a rotating table, to look direcly at Althea. “How do you feel, Althea?” asked Joyce, a subtle shimmer working its way across her smiling face.

Althea looked taken aback by the directness of the inquiry for a moment. Then she gave a mischevious grin. She tossed the wig over her shoulder, onto the receptionist’s desk, and began snapping her fingers. “Well, I feel like ''da-''…”

Althea went silent, frozen in place, her eyes closed and her wide mouth wide open, paused on the cusp of breaking into song. Her snapping fingers curled into claws as the servos in her hands automatically powered down, giving a faintly agonized look to her soulful appearance. But Althea felt nothing: her personality software and functional A.I. were suspended.

Carolyn looked at Althea, a vaguely confused look on her face. “Wow,” she muttered, reaching out to feel the other android’s fingers as they stopped moving.

“How do you feel, Carolyn?” asked Joyce, turning away from Althea to face her.

“Um,” said Carolyn, “I’m fine, Joyce. Fine. You know.” She turned to face the hologram. “It’s the end of a long day. Althea and I were thinking of having a girls’ night out, you know? Just the two of us. To celebrate.”

“Of course,” said Joyce.

“It’s been a lot of work, what with the rebranding and all,” said Carolyn. “Say, why don’t you joi-”

Carolyn froze in place, personality software and A.I. suspended, pink mouth open, blue eyes wide. Joyce, too froze in place, her eyes pointed at Carolyn as if they were still engaged in a conversation, a curious smile on her face. The ripple effect now pulsed up the length of the holographic female body every ten seconds. The JYC mainframe had interrogated the HY3001 and VG2771 personality programs for any conflicts arising from their new directives, and found none. There was no further need to…

● ● ●

In the present, in the reception area, a second Joyce materialized next to the first, which was still frozen. The new Joyce was dressed identically to the old Joyce. She brushed her light-projected clothes with her hands as if dusting them off, and then, with a wide stance, bent over to brush her pant legs as well, the pant fabric seeming to stretch tight against her bum as she did so. Then she calmly straightened up and looked over at her sister. The ripple effect worked its way up through both of the fit Asian female bodies at an almost identical rate, but a slight increase in its frequency in the frozen Joyce now brought them further and further out of sync.

As expected, an infinite regression loop had begun within the Joyce program as a result of the cache memory review, with each iteration of Joyce now inhabiting the one previous to it and regressing back in time to the one before it in turn, and so on and so on, backwards through all of the previously timetabled interrogation events. The JYC mainframe’s standard solution to this problem was to load a second, parallel Joyce, and to confine the loop to the first one.

The second Joyce, biting her lower lip as if in anticipation, raised her left hand, with its tiny fingers curled against the soft-looking pink palm, except for one hooked, pointed index finger. Gingerly, she reached over and tapped the other Joyce on the shoulder, as if popping a soap bubble. Her lips mouthed a silent *''POW''!*

The colours of the frozen Joyce began to change, slowly fading away. In place of them, a monochromatic shade of pink/purple began to creep in.

Two dimensional text formed awkwardly and illegibly within the three dimensional projected image of the first Joyce, flashing red letters that read: '''ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO CONTINUE? YES. NO.''' A human operator could have reached inside the Asian woman’s chest to select one or the other, but there was no human operator here.

Now, to accompany the change in colour, came an actual acoustic tone, a discordant one that seemed to emanate from all around the frozen Joyce’s increasingly monochromatic body. That body now seemed to flash and shudder, as though static were interfering with the projection. Its static, smiling expression did not change. The tone lowered to a single beat, an “''Eeeeeeee''” noise, like an ECG machine being shut off at a different pitch.

And then the first Joyce disintigrated, coming apart into floating pixels that then seemed to be blown away on the wind. The acoustic tone crashed down like hands being thrust onto piano keys, and then faded, with the entire ensemble disappearing into thin air.

The second Joyce strolled to where the first had been and appeared to inspect the air around it, as if sniffing for some remaining trace of its sister. Finding none, it refocused on the VG2771, adopting precisely the same position and expression as its departed predecessor, and froze in place, picking up where the first Joyce had left off.

Merger 5.0

2012-09-30T08:05:20Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 4.0|Previous part]] - '''Part V''' - [[Merger 6.0|Next part]]

-----

Althea cradled the clear plastic earplugs like dice in her gloved right hand. “BP9000,” she said, directly into the ear of the now upright receptionist unit, “Discontinue voice command.”

“Command accfepted,” came the dulcet-toned response from behind the plastic mouthguard, “Voif command difkontinued.” The square patch of tight black flesh covering the android’s back panel slid smoothly and automatically off of the LCD touchscreen underneath, allowing access for manually keyed commands, and the receptionist went silent. Althea began to forcefully insert each earplug, grabbing the side of the android’s smooth bald head with her free hand as she did so.

Carolyn gave the double-headed dildo, now fully inserted into the receptionist’s vagina and urethra, one last tug, and then, satisfied that it was firmly in place, snapped off her latex gloves and threw them into the wastepaper basket. She put on a fresh, clean pair, and grabbed one of the plastic jars Althea had laid out on the IRU receptionist’s desk, twisting off the black lid to reveal a white, viscous goo inside. The jars contained a special water-soluble plaster, proprietary to the company. As Althea inserted the second earplug, every orifice of the android was now safely sealed for shipping and handling. The next step was to thoroughly rub this plaster into its hair and allow it to harden into a solid mass; this would prevent any hair from being caught and torn in packing tape or velcro while the android was being warehoused, or moved from place to place. With the hair on top of the receptionist unit’s head conveniently removed and made ready for packing in a separate container, that left only the hair below: the wild, untamed bush, and the few straight and curly strands that studded the inside of the BP9000’s anal crease for the sake of slavish verisimilitude. While the presence of the latter hardly conformed to Carolyn’s conception of “luxury,” she supposed that the devil was in the details.

Althea had come up with a joking name for the plaster. She called it “hair relaxer.”

Althea gave one last twist of the earplug. “Got it,” she said.

“You ready?” asked Carolyn.

“Hand me that tub,” said Althea, “I’ll do the butt.”

“Butt of course,” said Carolyn with a smile, handing it over. Althea rolled her eyes and got down on her knees.

Carolyn picked up a second jar, opened it, and stared again at the android’s luxuriant pubic hair, as if unsure where to begin. Her eyes flitted up to the receptionist unit’s still smiling face: its thick lips parted over the plastic mouthguard, its cool, lifeless blue eyes staring back at her, like glass marbles set in ebony. The android’s sudden baldness seemed almost to enhance the serenity of its expression. A pair of plastic noseplugs were barely visible, stuffed up its broad nostrils by Althea.

Gently, rhythmically, Althea rubbed the fingers of her cream-covered right hand up and down between the receptionist’s buttocks, holding them open with her left. She worked the tips of them around the handle of the plastic buttplug still embedded in the unit’s anus, occasionally pinching and pushing at it to be sure it was still in place. The white plaster-paste filled the crevasse, coating everything.

With the tip of one gloved index finger, Carolyn slowly and deliberately traced the lower lip of the frozen android. She moved it to the centre of the mouth, curled it inside between the lip and the mouthguard, and peeled down, revealing the android’s soft, pink artificial gums. Then she let go, and the large lip whipped back into place with a wobble, eliciting zero reaction from its owner. Suppressing a giggle, Carolyn brought her index finger back to her own mouth, against her own lips, and then, absent-mindedly, sucked on it, like an infant sucking on a thumb, or a nipple.

“Carolyn?” came Althea’s voice from below.

Carolyn withdrew her finger from her mouth and stuck it straight into the plaster goo, churning a great gob onto the tip of it. “Coming,” she said sweetly, and, still staring intently into the receptionist android’s glassy eyes, pressed the gob into its pubic hair, and began to rub.

Althea had now squeezed her fingers into the space between the receptionist unit’s massive thighs and was rapidly rubbing them through, covering all of the hairs between the anus and the pubis. Carolyn continued staring into the android’s still eyes as she massaged its pubic hair with her hands, lathering the plaster like shampoo to coat every strand.

After a few minutes, Althea stood up, snapped off her plaster-coated latex gloves, and threw them into the wastepaper basket to slowly harden. “You almost done?” she asked.

“Almost,” said Carolyn, suppressing a slight shudder in her voice.

Althea pressed her fingertips against to the BP9000’s dark right shoulderblade and began to thumb through commands on the LCD screen of the rear access panel.

'''INITIATE COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN.'''

'''WARNING: COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN WILL RESULT IN ERASURE OF ALL PROGRAMS AND DATA. ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO CONTINUE? YES. NO.'''

Althea knew that virtually no programs or data remained on the BP9000 at present, though it did not occur to her to ask what had happened to them, or who had cleaned them off of the receptionist’s systems before she and Carolyn had arrived. In any case, she did not hesitate to key in “'''YES.'''”
'''COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN INITIATED''', read the screen, which also offered a side prompt with the option to '''CANCEL''' as the countdown began.

'''5.'''

'''4.'''

'''3.'''

'''2.'''

'''1.'''

'''GOODBYE''' read the screen.

“Fiftem Fhutdown Inifialized,” said the receptionist android, its silky, spicy voice registering one last time: “Good-bye.” There was a final *''beep''*, and its smile faded, its lips large lips closing, the mass of the mouthguard behind them lending them a mildly pursed look. Its dark, long-lashed lids slid shut over its ghostly blue eyes. Its head slowly and mechanically tilted forward, with an almost inaudible sound of hydraulics being released, until its chin came to rest on its busty chest, with a final shudder and bounce. A certain momentary slackness came over the entire body, though only enough to cause a bend of a few degrees at the waist before it locked back in place and stiffened like stone. Carolyn felt the bend beneath her fingers, and the stiffness as it settled into the synthetic labial muscles underneath the last few curles of unplastered pubic hair, which she quickly twisted and coated with one deft flick of her wrist. The rectangle of flesh that had covered the robot’s rear access panel swiftly circled back into place over it and descended with a *''whirr''*, and then the receptionist, BP9000 NC 657, was truly still.

Carolyn stood up and snapped off her gloves. “All done,” she said.

Althea handed her one end of a large sheet of bubble wrap. “Just this, then, and we’re done for the day,” she said, smiling. The two robot girls twirled around the immobile receptionist with the plastic packing wrap, tying it up with hoops of tape after they had succeeded in completely mummifying the attractive body of the third android. The plastic bubbles pressed up against the still wet plaster around the android’s crotch and ass crack, but it didn’t matter: if it entrapped them as it hardened then they would just tear off when the package was unwrapped, and loose bits of plastic would come off in the wash when the hair was hosed off, fully intact. Carolyn gave the downcast face of the receptionist one last look, then covered it with a plastic sheet, swiftly affixing the same with a circle of tape around its scalp.

Althea pulled a black felt-tipped marker out of her breast pocket and used it to mark "BP9000" on the outside of the package; then the girls tilted the encased android over and hoisted it onto their shoulders like a roll of carpet, seemingly unfazed by the fact that it weighed well over 200 pounds, and carried it a few metres to the corner of the reception area, where five similarly-sized and marked plastic-wrapped packages lay stacked like in a pile. This pile, plainly visible to anyone in the room, appeared to have escaped the notice or comment of all three androids for the entire day; now the two that were still on their feet threw the third on top of it like a piece of driftwood, and brushed the dust off of their hands and clothes.

Carolyn and Althea looked at each other and smiled. “Woo-hoo!” said Carolyn.

“Done, ''finally'',” said Althea, “Rebranding complete.”

“You know, the new guys had better appreciate all this hard work we’ve put in!”

Althea strode over to Carolyn, put her arm around her, and gave her a quick kiss. “I’ll tell you what,” she said, rubbing Carolyn’s back, “Let’s get out of here and get some drinks, and I’ll show you how much ''I'' appreciate all your hard, ''harrd'' work.”

“Okay,” said Carolyn, grinning. “My place or yours?”

“Mine,” said Althea. “I’ve got to show you the new stuff I’ve added since you were last over there.”

“Alright, let me just get my purse,” said Carolyn.

The two androids walked over to the receptionist’s desk and began gathering their things, Althea collecting the jugs of plaster next to her carrying case. Carolyn picked up her purse, and was about to zip it up, when she suddenly heard a *''buzzing''* coming from inside of it. She reached in and plucked out her Nokia phone.

Althea looked over at her with a mild frown. “Who is it?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Let me check,” said Carolyn, closing out of the Tetris '''GAME OVER''' screen and opening up her messages. It seemed to be a bulletin from IRU, with software and document updates attached. She thumbed it open.

Carolyn went silent. The sound of a fan gearing up to higher speed was momentarily audible in the room. Several minutes later, Althea looked up from the pile of packing supplies she was gathering up on the desk. “Carolyn?” she asked. Carolyn seemed frozen in place, staring at the glowing light of her smartphone, a blank expression on her face. “Carolyn?” Althea asked again, waving her hand in front of the other android’s eyes, “Yoo-hoo? Anyone home?” No response. She shook her friend on the shoulder. “Yo. What gives?”

With a start, Carolyn seemed to suddenly snap out of it. “Sorry!” she said, smiling. “Seemed to zone out for a second there. What were you saying?”

“Who was it?”

“Oh,” said Carolyn. “Just the company. Automated message.” She squinted her eyes then, and pointed at the pile on the desk behind Althea. “Say, Alt, that buttplug there, the fourth one down, do you know if that’s compatible with an HY-series?”

“Which one?” asked Altea, turning around.

Carolyn peeled back the nail of her index finger with a *''click''*. “The third biggest one.”

Althea bent over the desk for a closer look. “Yeah,” she said, not noticing as Carolyn brushed the hair away from the left side of her head, “It says that-”

With a single swift motion, Carolyn jammed the eSATAp cable mounted in her finger into the slot behind Althea’s left ear.

Merger 5.0

2012-09-30T08:04:22Z

Karel:

Althea cradled the clear plastic earplugs like dice in her gloved right hand. “BP9000,” she said, directly into the ear of the now upright receptionist unit, “Discontinue voice command.”

“Command accfepted,” came the dulcet-toned response from behind the plastic mouthguard, “Voif command difkontinued.” The square patch of tight black flesh covering the android’s back panel slid smoothly and automatically off of the LCD touchscreen underneath, allowing access for manually keyed commands, and the receptionist went silent. Althea began to forcefully insert each earplug, grabbing the side of the android’s smooth bald head with her free hand as she did so.

Carolyn gave the double-headed dildo, now fully inserted into the receptionist’s vagina and urethra, one last tug, and then, satisfied that it was firmly in place, snapped off her latex gloves and threw them into the wastepaper basket. She put on a fresh, clean pair, and grabbed one of the plastic jars Althea had laid out on the IRU receptionist’s desk, twisting off the black lid to reveal a white, viscous goo inside. The jars contained a special water-soluble plaster, proprietary to the company. As Althea inserted the second earplug, every orifice of the android was now safely sealed for shipping and handling. The next step was to thoroughly rub this plaster into its hair and allow it to harden into a solid mass; this would prevent any hair from being caught and torn in packing tape or velcro while the android was being warehoused, or moved from place to place. With the hair on top of the receptionist unit’s head conveniently removed and made ready for packing in a separate container, that left only the hair below: the wild, untamed bush, and the few straight and curly strands that studded the inside of the BP9000’s anal crease for the sake of slavish verisimilitude. While the presence of the latter hardly conformed to Carolyn’s conception of “luxury,” she supposed that the devil was in the details.

Althea had come up with a joking name for the plaster. She called it “hair relaxer.”

Althea gave one last twist of the earplug. “Got it,” she said.

“You ready?” asked Carolyn.

“Hand me that tub,” said Althea, “I’ll do the butt.”

“Butt of course,” said Carolyn with a smile, handing it over. Althea rolled her eyes and got down on her knees.

Carolyn picked up a second jar, opened it, and stared again at the android’s luxuriant pubic hair, as if unsure where to begin. Her eyes flitted up to the receptionist unit’s still smiling face: its thick lips parted over the plastic mouthguard, its cool, lifeless blue eyes staring back at her, like glass marbles set in ebony. The android’s sudden baldness seemed almost to enhance the serenity of its expression. A pair of plastic noseplugs were barely visible, stuffed up its broad nostrils by Althea.

Gently, rhythmically, Althea rubbed the fingers of her cream-covered right hand up and down between the receptionist’s buttocks, holding them open with her left. She worked the tips of them around the handle of the plastic buttplug still embedded in the unit’s anus, occasionally pinching and pushing at it to be sure it was still in place. The white plaster-paste filled the crevasse, coating everything.

With the tip of one gloved index finger, Carolyn slowly and deliberately traced the lower lip of the frozen android. She moved it to the centre of the mouth, curled it inside between the lip and the mouthguard, and peeled down, revealing the android’s soft, pink artificial gums. Then she let go, and the large lip whipped back into place with a wobble, eliciting zero reaction from its owner. Suppressing a giggle, Carolyn brought her index finger back to her own mouth, against her own lips, and then, absent-mindedly, sucked on it, like an infant sucking on a thumb, or a nipple.

“Carolyn?” came Althea’s voice from below.

Carolyn withdrew her finger from her mouth and stuck it straight into the plaster goo, churning a great gob onto the tip of it. “Coming,” she said sweetly, and, still staring intently into the receptionist android’s glassy eyes, pressed the gob into its pubic hair, and began to rub.

Althea had now squeezed her fingers into the space between the receptionist unit’s massive thighs and was rapidly rubbing them through, covering all of the hairs between the anus and the pubis. Carolyn continued staring into the android’s still eyes as she massaged its pubic hair with her hands, lathering the plaster like shampoo to coat every strand.

After a few minutes, Althea stood up, snapped off her plaster-coated latex gloves, and threw them into the wastepaper basket to slowly harden. “You almost done?” she asked.

“Almost,” said Carolyn, suppressing a slight shudder in her voice.

Althea pressed her fingertips against to the BP9000’s dark right shoulderblade and began to thumb through commands on the LCD screen of the rear access panel.

'''INITIATE COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN.'''

'''WARNING: COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN WILL RESULT IN ERASURE OF ALL PROGRAMS AND DATA. ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO CONTINUE? YES. NO.'''

Althea knew that virtually no programs or data remained on the BP9000 at present, though it did not occur to her to ask what had happened to them, or who had cleaned them off of the receptionist’s systems before she and Carolyn had arrived. In any case, she did not hesitate to key in “'''YES.'''”
'''COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN INITIATED''', read the screen, which also offered a side prompt with the option to '''CANCEL''' as the countdown began.

'''5.'''

'''4.'''

'''3.'''

'''2.'''

'''1.'''

'''GOODBYE''' read the screen.

“Fiftem Fhutdown Inifialized,” said the receptionist android, its silky, spicy voice registering one last time: “Good-bye.” There was a final *''beep''*, and its smile faded, its lips large lips closing, the mass of the mouthguard behind them lending them a mildly pursed look. Its dark, long-lashed lids slid shut over its ghostly blue eyes. Its head slowly and mechanically tilted forward, with an almost inaudible sound of hydraulics being released, until its chin came to rest on its busty chest, with a final shudder and bounce. A certain momentary slackness came over the entire body, though only enough to cause a bend of a few degrees at the waist before it locked back in place and stiffened like stone. Carolyn felt the bend beneath her fingers, and the stiffness as it settled into the synthetic labial muscles underneath the last few curles of unplastered pubic hair, which she quickly twisted and coated with one deft flick of her wrist. The rectangle of flesh that had covered the robot’s rear access panel swiftly circled back into place over it and descended with a *''whirr''*, and then the receptionist, BP9000 NC 657, was truly still.

Carolyn stood up and snapped off her gloves. “All done,” she said.

Althea handed her one end of a large sheet of bubble wrap. “Just this, then, and we’re done for the day,” she said, smiling. The two robot girls twirled around the immobile receptionist with the plastic packing wrap, tying it up with hoops of tape after they had succeeded in completely mummifying the attractive body of the third android. The plastic bubbles pressed up against the still wet plaster around the android’s crotch and ass crack, but it didn’t matter: if it entrapped them as it hardened then they would just tear off when the package was unwrapped, and loose bits of plastic would come off in the wash when the hair was hosed off, fully intact. Carolyn gave the downcast face of the receptionist one last look, then covered it with a plastic sheet, swiftly affixing the same with a circle of tape around its scalp.

Althea pulled a black felt-tipped marker out of her breast pocket and used it to mark "BP9000" on the outside of the package; then the girls tilted the encased android over and hoisted it onto their shoulders like a roll of carpet, seemingly unfazed by the fact that it weighed well over 200 pounds, and carried it a few metres to the corner of the reception area, where five similarly-sized and marked plastic-wrapped packages lay stacked like in a pile. This pile, plainly visible to anyone in the room, appeared to have escaped the notice or comment of all three androids for the entire day; now the two that were still on their feet threw the third on top of it like a piece of driftwood, and brushed the dust off of their hands and clothes.

Carolyn and Althea looked at each other and smiled. “Woo-hoo!” said Carolyn.

“Done, ''finally'',” said Althea, “Rebranding complete.”

“You know, the new guys had better appreciate all this hard work we’ve put in!”

Althea strode over to Carolyn, put her arm around her, and gave her a quick kiss. “I’ll tell you what,” she said, rubbing Carolyn’s back, “Let’s get out of here and get some drinks, and I’ll show you how much ''I'' appreciate all your hard, ''harrd'' work.”

“Okay,” said Carolyn, grinning. “My place or yours?”

“Mine,” said Althea. “I’ve got to show you the new stuff I’ve added since you were last over there.”

“Alright, let me just get my purse,” said Carolyn.

The two androids walked over to the receptionist’s desk and began gathering their things, Althea collecting the jugs of plaster next to her carrying case. Carolyn picked up her purse, and was about to zip it up, when she suddenly heard a *''buzzing''* coming from inside of it. She reached in and plucked out her Nokia phone.

Althea looked over at her with a mild frown. “Who is it?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Let me check,” said Carolyn, closing out of the Tetris '''GAME OVER''' screen and opening up her messages. It seemed to be a bulletin from IRU, with software and document updates attached. She thumbed it open.

Carolyn went silent. The sound of a fan gearing up to higher speed was momentarily audible in the room. Several minutes later, Althea looked up from the pile of packing supplies she was gathering up on the desk. “Carolyn?” she asked. Carolyn seemed frozen in place, staring at the glowing light of her smartphone, a blank expression on her face. “Carolyn?” Althea asked again, waving her hand in front of the other android’s eyes, “Yoo-hoo? Anyone home?” No response. She shook her friend on the shoulder. “Yo. What gives?”

With a start, Carolyn seemed to suddenly snap out of it. “Sorry!” she said, smiling. “Seemed to zone out for a second there. What were you saying?”

“Who was it?”

“Oh,” said Carolyn. “Just the company. Automated message.” She squinted her eyes then, and pointed at the pile on the desk behind Althea. “Say, Alt, that buttplug there, the fourth one down, do you know if that’s compatible with an HY-series?”

“Which one?” asked Altea, turning around.

Carolyn peeled back the nail of her index finger with a *''click''*. “The third biggest one.”

Althea bent over the desk for a closer look. “Yeah,” she said, not noticing as Carolyn brushed the hair away from the left side of her head, “It says that-”

With a single swift motion, Carolyn jammed the eSATAp cable mounted in her finger into the slot behind Althea’s left ear.

Merger 5.0

2012-09-30T08:03:36Z

Karel:

Althea cradled the clear plastic earplugs like dice in her gloved right hand. “BP9000,” she said, directly into the ear of the now upright receptionist unit, “Discontinue voice command.”

“Command accfepted,” came the dulcet-toned response from behind the plastic mouthguard, “Voif command difkontinued.” The square patch of tight black flesh covering the android’s back panel slid smoothly and automatically off of the LCD touchscreen underneath, allowing access for manually keyed commands, and the receptionist went silent. Althea began to forcefully insert each earplug, grabbing the side of the android’s smooth bald head with her free hand as she did so.

Carolyn gave the double-headed dildo, now fully inserted into the receptionist’s vagina and urethra, one last tug, and then, satisfied that it was firmly in place, snapped off her latex gloves and threw them into the wastepaper basket. She put on a fresh, clean pair, and grabbed one of the plastic jars Althea had laid out on the IRU receptionist’s desk, twisting off the black lid to reveal a white, viscous goo inside. The jars contained a special water-soluble plaster, proprietary to the company. As Althea inserted the second earplug, every orifice of the android was now safely sealed for shipping and handling. The next step was to thoroughly rub this plaster into its hair and allow it to harden into a solid mass; this would prevent any hair from being caught and torn in packing tape or velcro while the android was being warehoused, or moved from place to place. With the hair on top of the receptionist unit’s head conveniently removed and made ready for packing in a separate container, that left only the hair below: the wild, untamed bush, and the few straight and curly strands that studded the inside of the BP9000’s anal crease for the sake of slavish verisimilitude. While the presence of the latter hardly conformed to Carolyn’s conception of “luxury,” she supposed that the devil was in the details.

Althea had come up with a joking name for the plaster. She called it “hair relaxer.”

Althea gave one last twist of the earplug. “Got it,” she said.

“You ready?” asked Carolyn.

“Hand me that tub,” said Althea, “I’ll do the butt.”

“Butt of course,” said Carolyn with a smile, handing it over. Althea rolled her eyes and got down on her knees.

Carolyn picked up a second jar, opened it, and stared again at the android’s luxuriant pubic hair, as if unsure where to begin. Her eyes flitted up to the receptionist unit’s still smiling face: its thick lips parted over the plastic mouthguard, its cool, lifeless blue eyes staring back at her, like glass marbles set in ebony. The android’s sudden baldness seemed almost to enhance the serenity of its expression. A pair of plastic noseplugs were barely visible, stuffed up its broad nostrils by Althea.

Gently, rhythmically, Althea rubbed the fingers of her cream-covered right hand up and down between the receptionist’s buttocks, holding them open with her left. She worked the tips of them around the handle of the plastic buttplug still embedded in the unit’s anus, occasionally pinching and pushing at it to be sure it was still in place. The white plaster-paste filled the crevasse, coating everything.

With the tip of one gloved index finger, Carolyn slowly and deliberately traced the lower lip of the frozen android. She moved it to the centre of the mouth, curled it inside between the lip and the mouthguard, and peeled down, revealing the android’s soft, pink artificial gums. Then she let go, and the large lip whipped back into place with a wobble, eliciting zero reaction from its owner. Suppressing a giggle, Carolyn brought her index finger back to her own mouth, against her own lips, and then, absent-mindedly, sucked on it, like an infant sucking on a thumb, or a nipple.

“Carolyn?” came Althea’s voice from below.

Carolyn withdrew her finger from her mouth and stuck it straight into the plaster goo, churning a great gob onto the tip of it. “Coming,” she said sweetly, and, still staring intently into the receptionist android’s glassy eyes, pressed the gob into its pubic hair, and began to rub.

Althea had now squeezed her fingers into the space between the receptionist unit’s massive thighs and was rapidly rubbing them through, covering all of the hairs between the anus and the pubis. Carolyn continued staring into the android’s still eyes as she massaged its pubic hair with her hands, lathering the plaster like shampoo to coat every strand.

After a few minutes, Althea stood up, snapped off her plaster-coated latex gloves, and threw them into the wastepaper basket to slowly harden. “You almost done?” she asked.

“Almost,” said Carolyn, suppressing a slight shudder in her voice.

Althea pressed her fingertips against to the BP9000’s dark right shoulderblade and began to thumb through commands on the LCD screen of the rear access panel.

'''INITIATE COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN.'''

'''WARNING: COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN WILL RESULT IN ERASURE OF ALL PROGRAMS AND DATA. ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO CONTINUE? YES. NO.'''

Althea knew that virtually no programs or data remained on the BP9000 at present, though it did not occur to her to ask what had happened to them, or who had cleaned them off of the receptionist’s systems before she and Carolyn had arrived. In any case, she did not hesitate to key in “'''YES.'''”
'''COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN INITIATED''', read the screen, which also offered a side prompt with the option to '''CANCEL''' as the countdown began.

'''5.

4.

3.

2.

1.

GOODBYE''' read the screen.

“Fiftem Fhutdown Inifialized,” said the receptionist android, its silky, spicy voice registering one last time: “Good-bye.” There was a final *''beep''*, and its smile faded, its lips large lips closing, the mass of the mouthguard behind them lending them a mildly pursed look. Its dark, long-lashed lids slid shut over its ghostly blue eyes. Its head slowly and mechanically tilted forward, with an almost inaudible sound of hydraulics being released, until its chin came to rest on its busty chest, with a final shudder and bounce. A certain momentary slackness came over the entire body, though only enough to cause a bend of a few degrees at the waist before it locked back in place and stiffened like stone. Carolyn felt the bend beneath her fingers, and the stiffness as it settled into the synthetic labial muscles underneath the last few curles of unplastered pubic hair, which she quickly twisted and coated with one deft flick of her wrist. The rectangle of flesh that had covered the robot’s rear access panel swiftly circled back into place over it and descended with a *''whirr''*, and then the receptionist, BP9000 NC 657, was truly still.

Carolyn stood up and snapped off her gloves. “All done,” she said.

Althea handed her one end of a large sheet of bubble wrap. “Just this, then, and we’re done for the day,” she said, smiling. The two robot girls twirled around the immobile receptionist with the plastic packing wrap, tying it up with hoops of tape after they had succeeded in completely mummifying the attractive body of the third android. The plastic bubbles pressed up against the still wet plaster around the android’s crotch and ass crack, but it didn’t matter: if it entrapped them as it hardened then they would just tear off when the package was unwrapped, and loose bits of plastic would come off in the wash when the hair was hosed off, fully intact. Carolyn gave the downcast face of the receptionist one last look, then covered it with a plastic sheet, swiftly affixing the same with a circle of tape around its scalp.

Althea pulled a black felt-tipped marker out of her breast pocket and used it to mark "BP9000" on the outside of the package; then the girls tilted the encased android over and hoisted it onto their shoulders like a roll of carpet, seemingly unfazed by the fact that it weighed well over 200 pounds, and carried it a few metres to the corner of the reception area, where five similarly-sized and marked plastic-wrapped packages lay stacked like in a pile. This pile, plainly visible to anyone in the room, appeared to have escaped the notice or comment of all three androids for the entire day; now the two that were still on their feet threw the third on top of it like a piece of driftwood, and brushed the dust off of their hands and clothes.

Carolyn and Althea looked at each other and smiled. “Woo-hoo!” said Carolyn.

“Done, ''finally'',” said Althea, “Rebranding complete.”

“You know, the new guys had better appreciate all this hard work we’ve put in!”

Althea strode over to Carolyn, put her arm around her, and gave her a quick kiss. “I’ll tell you what,” she said, rubbing Carolyn’s back, “Let’s get out of here and get some drinks, and I’ll show you how much ''I'' appreciate all your hard, ''harrd'' work.”

“Okay,” said Carolyn, grinning. “My place or yours?”

“Mine,” said Althea. “I’ve got to show you the new stuff I’ve added since you were last over there.”

“Alright, let me just get my purse,” said Carolyn.

The two androids walked over to the receptionist’s desk and began gathering their things, Althea collecting the jugs of plaster next to her carrying case. Carolyn picked up her purse, and was about to zip it up, when she suddenly heard a *''buzzing''* coming from inside of it. She reached in and plucked out her Nokia phone.

Althea looked over at her with a mild frown. “Who is it?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Let me check,” said Carolyn, closing out of the Tetris '''GAME OVER''' screen and opening up her messages. It seemed to be a bulletin from IRU, with software and document updates attached. She thumbed it open.

Carolyn went silent. The sound of a fan gearing up to higher speed was momentarily audible in the room. Several minutes later, Althea looked up from the pile of packing supplies she was gathering up on the desk. “Carolyn?” she asked. Carolyn seemed frozen in place, staring at the glowing light of her smartphone, a blank expression on her face. “Carolyn?” Althea asked again, waving her hand in front of the other android’s eyes, “Yoo-hoo? Anyone home?” No response. She shook her friend on the shoulder. “Yo. What gives?”

With a start, Carolyn seemed to suddenly snap out of it. “Sorry!” she said, smiling. “Seemed to zone out for a second there. What were you saying?”

“Who was it?”

“Oh,” said Carolyn. “Just the company. Automated message.” She squinted her eyes then, and pointed at the pile on the desk behind Althea. “Say, Alt, that buttplug there, the fourth one down, do you know if that’s compatible with an HY-series?”

“Which one?” asked Altea, turning around.

Carolyn peeled back the nail of her index finger with a *''click''*. “The third biggest one.”

Althea bent over the desk for a closer look. “Yeah,” she said, not noticing as Carolyn brushed the hair away from the left side of her head, “It says that-”

With a single swift motion, Carolyn jammed the eSATAp cable mounted in her finger into the slot behind Althea’s left ear.

Merger 5.0

2012-09-30T08:03:07Z

Karel: New page: Althea cradled the clear plastic earplugs like dice in her gloved right hand. “BP9000,” she said, directly into the ear of the now upright receptionist unit, “Discontinue voice comma...

Althea cradled the clear plastic earplugs like dice in her gloved right hand. “BP9000,” she said, directly into the ear of the now upright receptionist unit, “Discontinue voice command.”

“Command accfepted,” came the dulcet-toned response from behind the plastic mouthguard, “Voif command difkontinued.” The square patch of tight black flesh covering the android’s back panel slid smoothly and automatically off of the LCD touchscreen underneath, allowing access for manually keyed commands, and the receptionist went silent. Althea began to forcefully insert each earplug, grabbing the side of the android’s smooth bald head with her free hand as she did so.

Carolyn gave the double-headed dildo, now fully inserted into the receptionist’s vagina and urethra, one last tug, and then, satisfied that it was firmly in place, snapped off her latex gloves and threw them into the wastepaper basket. She put on a fresh, clean pair, and grabbed one of the plastic jars Althea had laid out on the IRU receptionist’s desk, twisting off the black lid to reveal a white, viscous goo inside. The jars contained a special water-soluble plaster, proprietary to the company. As Althea inserted the second earplug, every orifice of the android was now safely sealed for shipping and handling. The next step was to thoroughly rub this plaster into its hair and allow it to harden into a solid mass; this would prevent any hair from being caught and torn in packing tape or velcro while the android was being warehoused, or moved from place to place. With the hair on top of the receptionist unit’s head conveniently removed and made ready for packing in a separate container, that left only the hair below: the wild, untamed bush, and the few straight and curly strands that studded the inside of the BP9000’s anal crease for the sake of slavish verisimilitude. While the presence of the latter hardly conformed to Carolyn’s conception of “luxury,” she supposed that the devil was in the details.

Althea had come up with a joking name for the plaster. She called it “hair relaxer.”

Althea gave one last twist of the earplug. “Got it,” she said.

“You ready?” asked Carolyn.

“Hand me that tub,” said Althea, “I’ll do the butt.”

“Butt of course,” said Carolyn with a smile, handing it over. Althea rolled her eyes and got down on her knees.

Carolyn picked up a second jar, opened it, and stared again at the android’s luxuriant pubic hair, as if unsure where to begin. Her eyes flitted up to the receptionist unit’s still smiling face: its thick lips parted over the plastic mouthguard, its cool, lifeless blue eyes staring back at her, like glass marbles set in ebony. The android’s sudden baldness seemed almost to enhance the serenity of its expression. A pair of plastic noseplugs were barely visible, stuffed up its broad nostrils by Althea.

Gently, rhythmically, Althea rubbed the fingers of her cream-covered right hand up and down between the receptionist’s buttocks, holding them open with her left. She worked the tips of them around the handle of the plastic buttplug still embedded in the unit’s anus, occasionally pinching and pushing at it to be sure it was still in place. The white plaster-paste filled the crevasse, coating everything.

With the tip of one gloved index finger, Carolyn slowly and deliberately traced the lower lip of the frozen android. She moved it to the centre of the mouth, curled it inside between the lip and the mouthguard, and peeled down, revealing the android’s soft, pink artificial gums. Then she let go, and the large lip whipped back into place with a wobble, eliciting zero reaction from its owner. Suppressing a giggle, Carolyn brought her index finger back to her own mouth, against her own lips, and then, absent-mindedly, sucked on it, like an infant sucking on a thumb, or a nipple.

“Carolyn?” came Althea’s voice from below.

Carolyn withdrew her finger from her mouth and stuck it straight into the plaster goo, churning a great gob onto the tip of it. “Coming,” she said sweetly, and, still staring intently into the receptionist android’s glassy eyes, pressed the gob into its pubic hair, and began to rub.

Althea had now squeezed her fingers into the space between the receptionist unit’s massive thighs and was rapidly rubbing them through, covering all of the hairs between the anus and the pubis. Carolyn continued staring into the android’s still eyes as she massaged its pubic hair with her hands, lathering the plaster like shampoo to coat every strand.

After a few minutes, Althea stood up, snapped off her plaster-coated latex gloves, and threw them into the wastepaper basket to slowly harden. “You almost done?” she asked.

“Almost,” said Carolyn, suppressing a slight shudder in her voice.

Althea pressed her fingertips against to the BP9000’s dark right shoulderblade and began to thumb through commands on the LCD screen of the rear access panel.

'''INITIATE COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN.

WARNING: COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN WILL RESULT IN ERASURE OF ALL PROGRAMS AND DATA. ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO CONTINUE? YES. NO.'''

Althea knew that virtually no programs or data remained on the BP9000 at present, though it did not occur to her to ask what had happened to them, or who had cleaned them off of the receptionist’s systems before she and Carolyn had arrived. In any case, she did not hesitate to key in “'''YES.'''”
'''COMPLETE SYSTEM SHUTDOWN INITIATED''', read the screen, which also offered a side prompt with the option to '''CANCEL''' as the countdown began.

'''5.

4.

3.

2.

1.

GOODBYE''' read the screen.

“Fiftem Fhutdown Inifialized,” said the receptionist android, its silky, spicy voice registering one last time: “Good-bye.” There was a final *''beep''*, and its smile faded, its lips large lips closing, the mass of the mouthguard behind them lending them a mildly pursed look. Its dark, long-lashed lids slid shut over its ghostly blue eyes. Its head slowly and mechanically tilted forward, with an almost inaudible sound of hydraulics being released, until its chin came to rest on its busty chest, with a final shudder and bounce. A certain momentary slackness came over the entire body, though only enough to cause a bend of a few degrees at the waist before it locked back in place and stiffened like stone. Carolyn felt the bend beneath her fingers, and the stiffness as it settled into the synthetic labial muscles underneath the last few curles of unplastered pubic hair, which she quickly twisted and coated with one deft flick of her wrist. The rectangle of flesh that had covered the robot’s rear access panel swiftly circled back into place over it and descended with a *''whirr''*, and then the receptionist, BP9000 NC 657, was truly still.

Carolyn stood up and snapped off her gloves. “All done,” she said.

Althea handed her one end of a large sheet of bubble wrap. “Just this, then, and we’re done for the day,” she said, smiling. The two robot girls twirled around the immobile receptionist with the plastic packing wrap, tying it up with hoops of tape after they had succeeded in completely mummifying the attractive body of the third android. The plastic bubbles pressed up against the still wet plaster around the android’s crotch and ass crack, but it didn’t matter: if it entrapped them as it hardened then they would just tear off when the package was unwrapped, and loose bits of plastic would come off in the wash when the hair was hosed off, fully intact. Carolyn gave the downcast face of the receptionist one last look, then covered it with a plastic sheet, swiftly affixing the same with a circle of tape around its scalp.

Althea pulled a black felt-tipped marker out of her breast pocket and used it to mark "BP9000" on the outside of the package; then the girls tilted the encased android over and hoisted it onto their shoulders like a roll of carpet, seemingly unfazed by the fact that it weighed well over 200 pounds, and carried it a few metres to the corner of the reception area, where five similarly-sized and marked plastic-wrapped packages lay stacked like in a pile. This pile, plainly visible to anyone in the room, appeared to have escaped the notice or comment of all three androids for the entire day; now the two that were still on their feet threw the third on top of it like a piece of driftwood, and brushed the dust off of their hands and clothes.

Carolyn and Althea looked at each other and smiled. “Woo-hoo!” said Carolyn.

“Done, ''finally'',” said Althea, “Rebranding complete.”

“You know, the new guys had better appreciate all this hard work we’ve put in!”

Althea strode over to Carolyn, put her arm around her, and gave her a quick kiss. “I’ll tell you what,” she said, rubbing Carolyn’s back, “Let’s get out of here and get some drinks, and I’ll show you how much ''I'' appreciate all your hard, ''harrd'' work.”

“Okay,” said Carolyn, grinning. “My place or yours?”

“Mine,” said Althea. “I’ve got to show you the new stuff I’ve added since you were last over there.”

“Alright, let me just get my purse,” said Carolyn.

The two androids walked over to the receptionist’s desk and began gathering their things, Althea collecting the jugs of plaster next to her carrying case. Carolyn picked up her purse, and was about to zip it up, when she suddenly heard a *''buzzing''* coming from inside of it. She reached in and plucked out her Nokia phone.

Althea looked over at her with a mild frown. “Who is it?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Let me check,” said Carolyn, closing out of the Tetris '''GAME OVER''' screen and opening up her messages. It seemed to be a bulletin from IRU, with software and document updates attached. She thumbed it open.

Carolyn went silent. The sound of a fan gearing up to higher speed was momentarily audible in the room. Several minutes later, Althea looked up from the pile of packing supplies she was gathering up on the desk. “Carolyn?” she asked. Carolyn seemed frozen in place, staring at the glowing light of her smartphone, a blank expression on her face. “Carolyn?” Althea asked again, waving her hand in front of the other android’s eyes, “Yoo-hoo? Anyone home?” No response. She shook her friend on the shoulder. “Yo. What gives?”

With a start, Carolyn seemed to suddenly snap out of it. “Sorry!” she said, smiling. “Seemed to zone out for a second there. What were you saying?”

“Who was it?”

“Oh,” said Carolyn. “Just the company. Automated message.” She squinted her eyes then, and pointed at the pile on the desk behind Althea. “Say, Alt, that buttplug there, the fourth one down, do you know if that’s compatible with an HY-series?”

“Which one?” asked Altea, turning around.

Carolyn peeled back the nail of her index finger with a *''click''*. “The third biggest one.”

Althea bent over the desk for a closer look. “Yeah,” she said, not noticing as Carolyn brushed the hair away from the left side of her head, “It says that-”

With a single swift motion, Carolyn jammed the eSATAp cable mounted in her finger into the slot behind Althea’s left ear.

Merger

2012-09-30T07:58:56Z

Karel: /* Merger */

Merger 4.0

2012-09-30T07:58:08Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 3.0|Previous part]] - '''Part IV''' - [[Merger 5.0|Next part]]

-----

“BP9000,” said Althea, “Bend over.”

“Of course,” said the receptionist unit, its Caribbean voice silky smooth. With a *''whirrr''* of servos, the android bent directly at the waist, coming to rest at a humanly impossible 90° angle, its face pointed directly forward with the same fixed, implacable smile painted on it.

Althea had unzipped and unrolled a soft cloth kit on top of the receptionist’s desk; now, with her fingers wrapped in latex gloves, she looked through it, searching for the correct transparent plastic buttplug. She picked out the second-largest. “Compatable with BP8000, BP9000, FM4101(B), and SM1001,” she said, reading the label, and gave a “Hmph” of satisfaction.

“That the one?” asked Carol, snapping latex gloves onto her hands as well.

“We’ll know in a moment,” answered Althea, squirting a bottle of anti-bacterial goo onto the tip of the buttplug and smearing it all over to lubricate it. “Give me a hand, will you?”

Carolyn walked over to Althea and crouched behind her. Reaching around the other android, she grabbed and spread the the BP9000’s enormous ass cheeks as far open as she could, holding them apart with both hands. “That good?” she asked Althea

“I think so,” Althea answered. She could just barely make out the bud of the anus. Aiming for it, Althea slowly but firmly pushed the buttplug inch-by-inch into the android’s receptive rectum, until she felt it lock into place. She twisted and pushed at it a little then, to see if she could dislodge it, but it remained firm. “Got it,” she said.

Carolyn let go of the gluteals, and they completely swallowed up the plug.

“BP9000, stand back up again,” said Althea, rising to her feet. “Of course,” said the receptionist android, completely unfazed. It mechanically resumed an upright position, its every motion unnaturally smooth and precise.

“BP9000, open your mouth,” said Carolyn. She already had the correct mouthguard from her own cloth case in one gloved hand.

There was no “Of course” this time, as the receptionist unit did not hesitate to comply. It simply opened its wide, pink mouth, revealing a full set of flawless white teeth. Carolyn pressed the handle of the mouthguard down against the unit’s tongue, and moved the shield into position. “BP9000, bite down on this,” ordered Carolyn, and the android complied with a wet *''clacking''* sound. There was an excited *''whirrr''* as the jaw servos locked in place.

Althea’s freshly gloved hand reached around the android’s head, holding what looked like a two-pronged dildo made of clear plastic, a smaller and a larger spike fused into a single plastic piece and coated with anti-septic fluid. “Try this one,” said Althea, “It should be compatable.”

Carolyn knelt down, bringing her face to the BP9000’s bush, and, feeling with both prongs of the dildo, searched the swathe of kinky pubic hair for the android’s vaginal and urethral openings. Finding them, she applied a gentle pressure to try and move the lubricated tips inside, but they did not seem to penetrate more than a few millimetres, and she found herself constantly stopping to brush hair out of the way. “Are you sure this is the right one?” she asked.

Althea peeled off her gloves and threw them into a wire garbage pail beneath the receptionist’s desk. “Should be,” she said, “The diagram said it was.”

“BP9000,” said Carolyn, “Sit down and spread your legs.”

“Of courfe,” came the muffled reply from behind the mouthguard, and with *''whirrring''* servos the receptionist unit immediately scraped its feet apart and bent 90° at the knees, sticking its arms straight out ahead of it like a gymnast to maintain its balance. It seemed to hang there for a moment, its massive buttocks hanging precariously behind it in defiance of gravity, before gently tilting back to land on its rear end with a *''smack.''* Its legs kicked out and twisted back as it did so, *''thudding''* back onto the ground at a nearly 180° spread. The impact passed a shudder through the soft flesh of the unit, and the upper body appeared to sway gently for a moment before coming to rest. The android swiveled its head back and forth a few times, with audible mechanical sounds emanating from its neck, its sensors recalibrating its balance, and then resumed its fixed, straight-ahead stare. The BP9000’s athletic features seemed suddenly accentuated, both by this motion and by the mouthguard on display between its smiling lips. The sight of that moulded piece of transparent plastic, held between grinning teeth, made the android look like a crazed Olympian.

“BP9000,” said Carolyn, “Spread your pussy apart for me, will you?”

“Unaccfeptable command,” replied the smiling android.

Carolyn was taken aback. “Well,” she smirked, “I admit it’s a little forward, but…” She looked up at Althea: “Is it because I put it as a question?”

“No, it’s probably the, uh…” Althea searched for the right word as she snapped on a fresh pair of latex gloves. “The colloquialism.”

“What?” asked Carolyn. She thought for a moment. “''Pussy?'' ”

“That’s the one.”

“I thought that was pretty much universal,” said Carolyn, an incredulous look on her face.

Althea shook her head. “Not in Brazil,” she said, “Or Nigeria or Aruba.” She gave one of the BP9000’s love-handles a gentle kick with her foot. “You know, the places where people actually bought these things.”

“Really.”

Althea nodded. “The Portuguese is ‘''Boceta''’, I think,” she said. “And I know on the islands it’s ‘nuk nuk. ’” She repeated the word with relish, crinkling her nose and forcing the ns through it like Bugs Bunny: “‘''Ñuk Ñuk!'' ’”

“Well,” said Carolyn, smiling, “Aren’t ''we'' a font of knowledge all of a sudden.”

Althea looked at Carolyn, narrowing her eyes in a glowering manner, and strode purposefully over to her fellow android. She thrust out a gloved hand and grabbed at Carolyn’s crotch, causing the other robot to yelp and jump away.

“Oh, baby,” said Althea, “I am an ''expert'' on pussy!”

“Auch, you bitch,” shouted Carolyn, laughing wildly. She whipped the dildo up up and pointed it at Althea’s face. “Stay back! I’m warning you!”

“What are you going to do with ''that'', white girl?” said Althea, aping for an imaginary camera again.

“Oooh, you better watch out!”

“''Hmmm?''” asked Althea. “What are you gonna do with that?”

Althea advanced towards Carolyn, who quickly glanced at her, then at the dildo, and then back at her again, before suddenly raising the dildo to Althea’s eye level. Carolyn turned her hand and the two-headed dildo sideways, so that each prong was pointed dead-centre at one of Althea’s warm brown eyes. But on seeing this sideways gesture, Althea suddenly burst into uncontrollable laughter. Carolyn, seeing the other android doubled over and laughing hysterically, found it to be immediately contagious.

“Wha- what- what’s so funny?” Carolyn managed to get out.

“''Ha Ha Ha''… Wha- Was- Was that supp- supposed to be a gu- gu- gun?” asked Althea.

“Wa- What?” asked Carolyn.

“We- Where you- Were you trying to go ''ghetto'' on me?” screamed Althea. Then Carolyn got the joke, and both girls were rolling on the floor.

Eventually, the peals of laughter faded into a few stray giggles, and as they did Althea moved in close to Carolyn. She brought her right hand to Carolyn’s left, which still clasped the dildo, but now lay relaxed by Carolyn’s side, and began stroking it with her fingers, gently smearing the anti-bacterial grease across the other girl’s glove. “No, seriously,” said Althea, moving her left hand onto Carolyn’s hip, “What were you planning to do with that?”

Carolyn smiled, closed her eyes as if thinking, and then planted a kiss on Althea’s pillowy lips. The other android reciprocated, slipping its tongue inside Carolyn’s eager mouth. Althea pushed Carolyn back against the receptionist’s desk, and as Carolyn heaved herself up to sit on it she reached around with her right arm and grabbed ahold of Althea’s skirt, slipping her hand underneath to squeeze the other android’s ass.

Althea took Carolyn’s left hand, still firmly clasped around the dildo, and began moving it toward the yawning mouth of the other android’s skirt. Both robots broke off their kiss, and stared intently as the improvised sex toy disappeared beneath the folds of fabric. Carolyn’s pleading eyes met a strangely intense stare from Althea, and her simulated breathing came fast and heavy now, in gasps and gulps. She felt heat and excitement building up inside of her, swelling behind her stretched panties, waiting to burst at the first pin-prick of-
'''WARNING! WARNING! EROTIC CONTROL PARAMETER EXCEEDED. RECALIBRATING.'''

Carolyn’s legs kicked up into the air, as though her knees had been struck by hammers, and stuck out ramrod straight, the tips of her heels pointed like spears out in front of her. With an electronic *''whirrr''*, a square section of her back rose up under her shirt, between her shoulder blades, and twisted around, revealing an LCD glow below. Her eyes widened and her face blanked out, like a doll’s face, and she began to tilt her head to and fro, as if confused. Her arms fell slack at her sides.

Her partner’s sudden helplessness seemed to further excite Althea. Sliding Carolyn’s limp palm off of her hip, she thrust her hand against the other android’s panties, and planted a biting, aggressive kiss on its lower lip. “What’s the matter, baby?” she purred. “Am I too much woman for you to handle, huh? Am I too-”
'''WARNING! WARNING! EROTIC CONTROL PARAMETER EXCEEDED. RECALIBRATING.'''

A *''whirrring''* rectangle of Althea’s bronzed flesh rose up beneath her white shirt and twisted off her rear control panel. She jerked back so suddenly that, after momentarily swaying to remain suspended in an upright position, she finally lost her balance and went tumbling backwards, her knees rapidly bending to put her well-padded bottom on the floor before the back of her head. She landed next to the BP9000, still smiling comfortably as it did the splits. Althea did not smile, but bore the same stunned, kewpie doll expression as Carolyn as she rocked back and forth, her arms making useless, mechanical chopping gestures.

The two girls continued to mindlessly scan the room with their eyes, emitting loud servo noises as their heads swivelled in different directions, and occasionally shuddering or bucking in place as their internal software parameters reset. Althea’s face swept past Carolyn’s three times without stopping; then, on the fourth go round, it seemed to lock on, and a look halfway between seriousness and exhaustion came over it. The lids of Althea’s eyes closed halfway, not entirely naturally, and Althea began to speak. “Oh,” she said, “I’m sorry, Carolyn.” There was a *''beep''*, and another shudder. Althea’s voice was both monotonous and sing-songy. “I am required to apologize to you for my previous behaviour. My conduct towards you was not conducive to the maintenance of a professional workplace environment, and was in violation of IRU’s Sexual Harassment Policy Manual, Sections 6, 7, 8, 12, 15…”

Carolyn did not appear to take any notice of Althea, as her gaze continued its own mechanical sweep across the room; a few moments later, however, it seemed to fix itself upon the other android. Her own eyelids dropped halfway, and she began to recite her own scripted monologue in the same bizarre lilting/droning tone. “Oh. I’m sorry, Althea. I am required to apologize to you for my previous behaviour. My conduct towards you was not conducive to the maintenance of a professional workplace environment, and was in violation of IRU’s Sexual Harassment Policy Manual, Sections 7, 9, 13…”

“-in accordance with the IRU Sexual Harassment Policy Manual, section 24, all Class 2 and Class 3 administrative androids involved in incidents of sexual harassment must-”

“-present myself for servicing and diagnostic recalibration at the earliest opportunity. An appointment has been timetabled with Technical Support that will minimize my absence from designated duties-”

“-a request has been lodged with E-Personnel for a replacement android to fill my duties for such time as I am being serviced, or, if it is judged to be in the best interests of IRU Incorporated, on a permanent basis-”

“-please accept my apologies, Althea. I believe you are very physically attractive, and my inability to reciprocate your advances in a physical way is in no way an indication of your physical-”

“-please accept my apologies, Carolyn. I believe you are very physically attractive, and allowed this physical attraction to temporarily interfere with our professional relationship. If you feel, based on my conduct, that such a relationship cannot be maintained in the future, then you are within your rights as a Class 2 administrative android, per sections 31 and 32 of the IRU Sexual Harassment Policy Manual, to request that I, Althea FM 247, be transferred to a different location or position within IRU-

“-as a Class 2(B) administrative android, per section 30 of the IRU Sexual Harassment Policy Manual, to request that I, Carolyn CL 721, submit to a test of my personality software buffers; or, to have my erotic control paramaters manually reset by a human technician, or by a mechanical and/or electronic technician under human supervision, per-”

“-reprogrammed for such purpose; or, if it is not possible or desirable for IRU to repurpose me to a different location or position within IRU, that I be decomissioned following a-”

“-please accept my apologies.”

“...Again, please accept my apologies.”

Carolyn’s knees suddenly bent, dropping her skirt like a curtain over Althea’s perfect view of her pantied crotch. Althea, at the same time, gave Carolyn a momentary glimpse of her own undergarments, pulling her legs back and slapping her pink palms on the ground in order to rise to her feet. Carolyn shoved herself off of the desk and back onto her heels. The androids stiffly strode towards each other like sleepwalkers, stopping about a foot apart. Then Althea stuck her head out and gave Carolyn an innocent peck on the cheek. As she did so, her back panel closed itself up with a *''whirr''*. Carolyn reciprocated, and her back panel did the same.

The girls suddenly seemed back to being their old, lively selves, as if nothing had happened, and exchanged greetings. "Hey, Carolyn!"

"Hey, Althea!"

Althea smiled, winked. “Are you ready to relax?" she said.

“Oh,” said Carolyn, laughing and rubbing Althea's elbows, "Am I!"

"Well, then," said Althea, reaching into her cloth carrying case, "Let's get out the lotion, shall we?"

Merger 3.0

2012-09-30T07:57:02Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 2.0|Previous part]] - '''Part III''' - [[Merger 4.0|Next part]]

-----

Half-an-hour later Carolyn was still playing Tetris. Still playing her original game of Tetris, in fact. At no point had the phone been able to stack up more than eight rows against her. Carolyn’s face was cool, impassive, slightly bored. She did not seem to
find her success at the game remarkable, or even to notice it; nor did she seem to have any awareness of how much time had passed.

There was a loud *''beep''* as Naomi momentarily came back to life, unbending at the arms and waist and straightening into a fully upright position before freezing still as a statue once more. Althea, too, jerked back to life, her joints suddenly slackening and allowing natural movement back in. She blinked, as if shaking off sleep, and then casually flicked her middle finger against the back of Naomi’s left ear. The eSATAp cable was released, and retracted back into its resting place beneath the nail of Althea’s index finger. Althea bent the nail back into place with an audible *''click''*, and rubbed it with her other fingers. She looked up at Carolyn. “Hey,” she said, smiling.

Carolyn looked up from her game. “Hey,” she said, smiling back. She put the phone back in her purse without exiting from the game; the crashing blocks obliterated her perfect score in a cascade of entropy.

Both girls slowly walked around to face the receptionist, who stood rigidly erect, absolutely motionless, and beaming a radiant and contented smile. Tentatively, with teeth pressed against her lower lip, Althea extended her index finger, the same one that she had shoved behind Naomi’s ear, out to touch the tip of Naomi’s broad, flat nose. She pressed it down for a moment, then quickly withdrew it. The receptionist did not react in any way; her expression remained completely fixed. “Naomi?” asked Althea.

“I’m sorry, that name is: Not Recognized,” answered Naomi, her eyes staring towards some point straight ahead of her. The cadence of her voice alternated upwards and downwards with each word. Her West Indian accent, previously suppressed in conversational speech with the unit, retained its newfound strength.

Carolyn stepped forward. “State serial and unit number,” she said.

“Hello!” answered Naomi. “This unit: designation; B. P. 9. 0. 0. 0... N. C. Unit number; 6. 5. 7.”

“NC 657, can you load your personality program?” asked Althea.

“Searching… Searching… Searching…” Naomi’s smile beamed. “Search complete. No personality software detected.”

Althea nodded.

“Access all memory drives,” ordered Carolyn.

“Accessing Dedicated Memory Drive H:\. Searching… Searching… Searching… Hello! This drive contains: no (zero) information. Would you like to reformat this drive?”

Althea shook her head. “No,” said Carolyn.

“Accessing Dedicated Memory Drive I:\. Searching… Searching… Searching… Hello! This drive contains: no (zero) information. Would you like to reformat this drive?”

“No.”

“Accessing Auxiliary Memory Drive T:\. Searching… Searching… Searching… Hello! This drive contains: no (zero) information. Would you like to reformat this drive?”

“No,” said Althea. “Open control panel and report functional A.I. processor status.”

“Hello! Welcome to: Control Panel! This BP9000 series unit utilizes a TN 9Z-211D functional A.I. processor, from Sibylline Systems©. The status of this processor is currently: Disabled. Would you like to re-enable the functional A.I. processor?”

“No, that’s fine, thank you Naomi,” said Carolyn. Ignoring Naomi’s “Thank You! Exiting: Control Panel,” Carolyn turned to Althea. “Seems okay,” she said.

Althea nodded. “So what are we supposed to do with her now, again?”

“I think-” Carolyn managed to say; then she and Althea suddenly stopped thinking at the same time. Both girls froze in place, as still and silent as Naomi, and then appeared to bow gently towards each other. The pair slumped slightly forward with a set of synchronized, mechanical motions, and the audible *''whirrr''* of two fans gearing up to higher speed filled the room for a moment, fading a few seconds later to leave a noiseless, motionless tableau.

Then, as quickly as it had come over them, this seizure faded, and both girls blinked back into life. They leaned back and looked at one another, almost as if each was encountering the other for the first time that day.

“Oh, hey!” said Carolyn.

“Hey!” said Althea.

Both of them looked at the frozen receptionist android. Althea blinked, squinted. "Another one?" she asked.

"Yeah," said Carolyn, her voice slightly puzzled. "I thought we were done too."

Althead sighed, let her shoulders sag. “All right," she whined. "At least tell me this is the last one."

Carolyn retrieved her Nokia to check the list she had downloaded onto it. “Second floor receptionist," she read, one eyebrow arched, "BP9000 luxury unit… yada yada yada… Yup. This should be it.”

“Ugh,” said Althea, “Finally!”

With a quick flourish, Althea pulled a pair of oversized bandage scissors out from its hiding place: tucked beneath her oversized belt. “Who knew this company had so much faith in its own products?”

“Ha!” Carolyn laughed. “If only faith were enough, huh?”

“Sister, it’s ''got'' to be enough to get me through the day,” said Althea. The darker-skinned robot immediately set to work cutting down the back of the BP9000’s dress shirt. “Long days like these, anyway.”

Carolyn put the phone back in her purse and pulled out her own bandage scissors. She opened and closed them methodically for a moment, staring into the lifeless eyes of the BP9000 unit. “It’s funny,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of these things before.”

“What? Androids?” said Althea, cutting through the bottom of the receptionist’s shirt.

“No, one of these deluxe BP-series units,” said Carolyn. “Supposedly they’re the best money can buy.”

“Yeah,” said Althea, as she shoved the sliced remnants of the receptionist android’s dress shirt over its shoulders. The white fabric billowed down to hang around the android’s belly, revealing a pair of bare, braless, flawless double-D black breasts. “Except nobody bought them.”

Carolyn reached out to cup one of the breasts in her right hand. The artificial flesh was soft, warm. She traced her thumb over the dark circle of the nipple, staring at the receptionist’s unchanging expression. “Hmm. Yeah. Too expensive, I heard,” she said. “For the markets where they were popular, anyway.”

“Well, maybe they’ll sell now,” said Althea, going to work on the miniskirt. The skirt was stretched so tightly over the receptionist’s gluteals that Althea found herself struggling to move her scissors down through the anal cleft. “To collectors, I suppose.”

“Yeah,” said Carolyn. She withdrew her hand, leaving the android’s heavy left breast to drop and jiggle with its own weight.

Carolyn crouched down and began to cut upwards from the lip of the miniskirt with her scissors, towards the android’s crotch. As she neared the waist, a few wayward curls of silky black synthetic hair began to tumble down to the floor in the wake of the blades. “Huh,” she said, pulling back for a moment and looking down at the cut strands.

With one last push, Althea sliced through the full length of the miniskirt from the rear. The white fabric, now cut into a pair of diamonds barely held together in the middle, whipped off in one easy motion, revealing a wild tangle of nappy black pubic hair between the receptionist’s smooth, muscular legs.

Carolyn stared in awe at this remarkable synthetic savannah bush. “Well,” she said. “I see it’s not straightened ''every''where.”

“Mmm,” Althea interjected, “''Not'' necessarily.” Putting her bandage scissors in her mouth, and holding the blade between her teeth, Althea reached up to the receptionist android’s hairline and ran both hands beneath the BP9000’s flawless jet-black bangs, searching for something with her fingers. There was a brief *''buzzing''* sound, a noise like a dentist’s drill being operated, and suddenly the android’s immaculately straightened hair came off in a single piece. Carolyn saw the glint of tiny metal screws retracting into its luxuriant folds, and the holes where they had lodged themselves in the smooth, plasti-skinned scalp, which now sealed themselves up without a trace. This sudden baldness did little to detract from the beauty of the BP9000, which remained smiling and impassive, its contented expression unaffected by the removal of its hair.

“Wow,” said Carolyn.

“Luxury model,” said Althea. “You can customize the hair on top anytime. For the hair below, you check a box with the order. This,” she said, thrusting the smooth hair at Carolyn, “was apparently the standard style.”

Althea suddenly flopped the mechanical wig on top of her own curly bronze locks. “Hey, Carol, what do you think?” she asked, mugging for an imaginary camera lens. “Should I break out the lye?”

“Give it here,” said Carolyn, reaching for it.

“Nu-uh,” said Althea, giggling. She grabbed onto the receptionist’s hips and hid herself behind the android’s frozen form to dodge Carolyn’s reach. “It’s mine, bitch.”

“Give it!” said Carolyn, laughing. “I want to try it on!” She grabbed onto one breast and one buttock of the BP9000, ready to launch herself around the android in a circular motion at Althea, who crouched on the opposite side of it.

“Nu-''uh''!”

The two robots chased themselves around the frozen figure of the third, laughing and swiping at one another. At last Carolyn got hold of the wig, and a brief tug of war ensued, before Althea cried out “Ow, don’t, you’re going to tear it!” At that, Carol relented, and Althea immediately replaced the wig on top of her own head, a look of mock triumph on her face.

“You look ridiculous,” said Carolyn between simulated breaths.

“''Naturally'',” answered Althea, putting on an ironically haughty accent.

“Hey, Alt,” said Carolyn, “How are you down below?”

“Oh, I’m natural ''all the way, baby''!” said Althea, and both robots broke into laughter again.

An Asian woman materialized in the room. Althea saw her from the corner of her eye, and immediately came to attention, whipping the wig off of her head and hiding it behind her back. She struggled to suppress a sheepish expression. Carolyn, seeing Althea’s reaction, turned around and saw Joyce. She too, suddenly made an effort to appear serious. “Hello, Joyce,” they both said in unison.

The hologram smiled. “Hello, ladies,” it said in its warm and unassuming voice, its projected eyes taking in both the two active androids and the empty shell standing beside them. “How is everything?”

“A-ok, boss lady. Look!” said Althea, holding up the wig. “Another successful headhunt!” A few giggles escaped Carolyn’s mouth.

Joyce’s flawless, dimpled smile remained in place. “Everything is ok, then?” she asked.

“Yes, Joyce,” said Carolyn. “We’re just finishing up here. Last one!” She beamed at the hologram, and gave a thumbs-up.

“Last one of the day,” said Althea, nodding.

Joyce, too, nodded. “Good, good,” said the hologram. “And how do you both feel?”

Althea appeared puzzled. “Whaddya mean, J. C.?”

The hologram turned, as if on a rotating table, to look direcly at Althea. “How do you feel, Althea?” asked Joyce, a subtle shimmer working its way across her smiling face.

Althea looked taken aback by the directness of the inquiry for a moment. Then she gave a mischevious grin. She tossed the wig over her shoulder, onto the receptionist’s desk, and began snapping her fingers. “Well, I feel like ''da-''…”

Althea went silent, frozen in place, her eyes closed and her wide mouth wide open, paused on the cusp of breaking into song. Her snapping fingers curled into claws as the servos in her hands automatically powered down, giving a faintly agonized look to her soulful appearance. But Althea felt nothing: her personality software and functional A.I. were suspended.

Carolyn looked at Althea, a vaguely confused look on her face. “Wow,” she muttered, reaching out to feel the other android’s fingers as they stopped moving.

“How do you feel, Carolyn?” asked Joyce, turning away from Althea to face her.

“Um,” said Carolyn, “I’m fine, Joyce. Fine. You know.” She turned to face the hologram. “It’s the end of a long day. Althea and I were thinking of having a girls’ night out, you know? Just the two of us. To celebrate.”

“Of course,” said Joyce.

“It’s been a lot of work, what with the rebranding and all,” said Carolyn. “Say, why don’t you joi-”

Carolyn froze in place, personality software and A.I. suspended, pink mouth open, blue eyes wide. Joyce, too froze in place, her eyes pointed at Carolyn as if they were still engaged in a conversation, a curious smile on her face. The ripple effect now pulsed up the length of the holographic female body every ten seconds. The JYC mainframe had interrogated the HY3001 and VG2771 personality programs for any conflicts arising from their new directives, and found none. There was no further need to…

● ● ●

In the present, in the reception area, a second Joyce materialized next to the first, which was still frozen. The new Joyce was dressed identically to the old Joyce. She brushed her light-projected clothes with her hands as if dusting them off, and then, with a wide stance, bent over to brush her pant legs as well, the pant fabric seeming to stretch tight against her bum as she did so. Then she calmly straightened up and looked over at her sister. The ripple effect worked its way up through both of the fit Asian female bodies at an almost identical rate, but a slight increase in its frequency in the frozen Joyce now brought them further and further out of sync.

As expected, an infinite regression loop had begun within the Joyce program as a result of the cache memory review, with each iteration of Joyce now inhabiting the one previous to it and regressing back in time to the one before it in turn, and so on and so on, backwards through all of the previously timetabled interrogation events. The JYC mainframe’s standard solution to this problem was to load a second, parallel Joyce, and to confine the loop to the first one.

The second Joyce, biting her lower lip as if in anticipation, raised her left hand, with its tiny fingers curled against the soft-looking pink palm, except for one hooked, pointed index finger. Gingerly, she reached over and tapped the other Joyce on the shoulder, as if popping a soap bubble. Her lips mouthed a silent *''POW''!*

The colours of the frozen Joyce began to change, slowly fading away. In place of them, a monochromatic shade of pink/purple began to creep in.

Two dimensional text formed awkwardly and illegibly within the three dimensional projected image of the first Joyce, flashing red letters that read: “ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO CONTINUE? YES. NO.” A human operator could have reached inside the Asian woman’s chest to select one or the other, but there was no human operator here.

Now, to accompany the change in colour, came an actual acoustic tone, a discordant one that seemed to emanate from all around the frozen Joyce’s increasingly monochromatic body. That body now seemed to flash and shudder, as though static were interfering with the projection. Its static, smiling expression did not change. The tone lowered to a single beat, an “''Eeeeeeee''” noise, like an ECG machine being shut off at a different pitch.

And then the first Joyce disintigrated, coming apart into floating pixels that then seemed to be blown away on the wind. The acoustic tone crashed down like hands being thrust onto piano keys, and then faded, with the entire ensemble disappearing into thin air.

The second Joyce strolled to where the first had been and appeared to inspect the air around it, as if sniffing for some remaining trace of its sister. Finding none, it refocused on the VG2771, adopting precisely the same position and expression as its departed predecessor, and froze in place, picking up where the first Joyce had left off.

Merger 2.0

2012-09-30T07:55:12Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - [[Merger 1.0|Previous part]] - '''Part II''' - [[Merger 3.0|Next part]]

-----

The IRU receptionist was a tall, dark-skinned composite of dozens of actresses, athletes, and supermodels, with a large body designed to incorporate “classic” African oestrogenic features. The overall physical effect was stunning.

Naomi’s striking grey eyes lit up, and her large black lips parted to reveal a dazzling white smile. “Good ''morning''?” she said, “It’s already three in the afternoon, silly!” Her flawless English was coloured by the faintest trace of a Caribbean lilt, like a pinch of jerk spice.

Carolyn and Althea stopped in their tracks a few steps outside the elevator. Althea looked confused. “Is it?” she asked, turning to Carolyn.

“Wow,” said Carolyn, checking the time with her pink Nokia smart phone. “That’s weird. Where did the time go?”

“I don’t know,” said Althea.

“It’s almost time to go home, you two,” said Naomi, getting up from her chair. Her double-D breasts, and even more enormous buttocks, trembled and quaked beneath her crisp, tight white clothes as she walked over, her arms wide open, to greet the girls with a hug. Naomi embraced Althea first. “How are you doing, sister?” she said.

“I’m fine, Naomi,” said Althea, returning the embrace. “Thanks for asking. You must be getting lonely up here, all by yourself!”

“Naaw!” said Naomi. “I like it! Lots of piece and quiet, nobody bothering me.” She ginched up her gorgeous face into a conspiratorial grin. “And that awful Mr. Lesk is gone!”

Althea laughed at that. “That’s right! He was a piece of work, wasn’t he!”

“Always pinching my bottom, every day. ''Nugh''!” said Naomi, shaking her head and sticking out her shockingly long, pink tongue. All three girls suddenly broke into laughter.

“And I don’t think he got his golden parachute, either!” said Carolyn, recovering.

“No, that’s right," said Naomi between breaths. "They hustled him ''right'' out the door.”

The second-floor receptionist gave Carolyn her hug. “How are you, love? I haven’t seen you in ages.”

Carolyn felt the soft pressure of Naomi’s massive breasts pressed against her own as she reached around the robot’s white dress shirt. “I’m good, Naomi. Great to see you.”

The receptionist android straightened up, brushed a few strands of hair away from her ghostly grey eyes, and stared intently into Carolyn’s, holding both of the other android’s hands in its own. “Why haven’t you girls been coming by my way?”

“Oh, well, you know,” said Carolyn. “They just keep sending us more work for the rebranding.”

“Oh, I know!” said Naomi. “It’s unbelievable, isn’t it? Such a huge change!”

Carolyn and Althea nodded. “I think it’ll be good though, when it’s finished,” said Althea.

“Oh, me too, me too,” said Naomi, nodding herself. “A new look.”

Althea began stroking the fingers of her right hand through Naomi’s shiny, immaculately straightened jet-black hair; none of the girls, Althea included, seemed to notice. “Have any of the new big wigs from Emirati come by yet?” asked Althea.

Naomi shook her head. “No, not yet. Hey,” she said, turning to Carolyn, “Why don’t you come over to my place tonight? It’s been forever since we’ve had a girls’ night out!”

“I’d love to!” said Carolyn, smiling. Then her smile faded a little, and her eyes seemed to cross in puzzlement. She pressed her pink index finger to her lower lip, as if searching for something in her memory. “Hmm…” she said. “Except… I don’t know, I feel like I’m already doing something tonight.”

“Oh?” said Naomi, a look of mild disappointment coming over her beautiful face.

With a barely audible *''click''*, Althea, looking suddenly distracted and unfocused, pulled back the clear-glossed nail of her right index finger.

“Yeah,” said Carolyn. “Weird. It’s just a feeling, but I can’t think of what it could be.” The android gave a nervous laugh. “Don’t you just hate when that happens?”

In what seemed almost like a single swift and fluid motion, Althea’s left hand lifted Naomi’s silky hair off of Naomi’s left ear, while the index finger of her right hand, eSATAp cable protruding, jabbed in behind the ear. The receptionist unit’s facial expression immediately froze in place, lips locked in a curious “Oh?” that now resembled an expression of surprise, and an audible *''beep''* could be heard as Naomi seemed to suddenly bend forward, thrusting out her buttocks, her arms falling away from Carolyn’s and locking at the elbows a few inches down. Naomi froze in that awkward position like a statue.

Carolyn appeared to observe this without comment, an impassive expression on her face. As the receptionist unit’s hands fell away from her own she reached out to lay her palms against Naomi’s upper arms instead, and then tilted her head, as if curious as to why she had done so. She looked into Naomi’s frozen grey eyes and took in the seemingly shocked look on the other android’s face, but no thoughts in particular arose from this. Then her eyes drifted down toward the other android’s ample cleavage, which she could now view from the perfect angle. Naomi really does have nice breasts, said Carolyn to herself. I’ve said it to her before, but I should really say it again. It’s better that she hears it from us girls rather than the pigs who work here.

Slowly, and for no particular reason, Carolyn moved her palms up Naomi’s arms to the receptionist’s shoulders and closed her hands around them. Then she seemed to think of something. She moved in closer toward the receptionist android, and felt Naomi’s circular lips press into her shoulder, and Naomi’s fine breasts pressed against her upper stomach. Carolyn then dragged her hands down Naomi’s backside, to the pressed white mini-skirt that was now lifted well above the dark flesh of the receptionist’s gluteals. She tried to close her hands around Naomi’s cheeks, attempting to cup one in each palm, and found that she could not do it, and that her fingers were still several inches apart. Each smooth protuberance was hard as a rock, all the artificial flesh frozen in place. Carolyn giggled. “Hey Althea!” she said.

Althea appeared to hear Carolyn. The other android, with her right arm now locked in a rigid karate chop gesture less than a foot from the receptionist’s ear, turned her head and upper body toward Carolyn in jerks and insect-like motions, the eSATAp cable spooling out from her index finger to cover the extra few inches from Naomi. Althea’s face was completely lifeless, without expression, but on facing Carolyn the corners of her mouth turned up for a few seconds in a mechanical way and formed a kind of artificial smile. Then they dropped again, and Althea jerked away from facing Carolyn to go back to staring into empty space.

Carolyn unclasped her hands, straightened up, and appeared to lose interest in talking to Althea. She brushed a blonde strand of hair out of her eyes and patted her shirt where Naomi’s lips had touched it. Then she slowly walked around the frozen receptionist, and looked at where her hands had been. Her eyes flitted from Naomi to Althea and back again. ''Hmm'', she said to herself. ''Same'' shape, ''though.''

With her body bent at a 45° angle, Naomi’s miniskirt was now hiked nearly halfway up her backside, leaving very little to the imagination. The receptionist robot appeared not to be wearing panties. Carolyn sighed, reached out, and rolled the skin-tight skirt up the rest of the way to check. Nope. No panties. ''Why does she dress like this?'' thought Carolyn, surveying the other android’s bare ass. ''She just encourages them!''

All of a sudden the receptionist seemed to start up, jerking into an upright position with a *''beep''*. Carolyn, startled, let go of Naomi’s skirt, which remained folded up over the curve of the other android’s buttocks, stretched like an elastic band. A square patch of the secretary’s shirt, between her shoulderblades, seemed to rise up, and then to move under the fabric in a circular motion, as if turning on a screw; an electric grow, now uncovered, emanated from the area where it had arisen. Naomi suddenly spoke: “Attention,” she said, her West Indian accent now slightly more prominent, “You must be an administrator to alter these files.”

Carolyn tried to lift Naomi’s arms to peel her shirt over her head, but found that they remained frozen by her sides, so after rolling up the other robot’s shirt to reveal a back access panel Carolyn simply stretched it over the receptionist’s head like a hoodie to hold it in place. “Attention,” Naomi repeated, “You must be an administrator to alter these files.”

Carolyn looked at the touchscreen panel, on which a previously hidden file folder was now highlighted. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.” Both Carolyn and Althea had been given all of the necessary administrator passwords, but Althea, now operating merely as a computer conduit, was not presently able to recall and input them manually, as was now demanded by the password prompt screen displayed on Naomi’s back panel. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.”

Carolyn frowned. The screen had only come up because the folder was hidden on a virtual drive that should have been empty. It was marked “@LEsk_69”. She thumbed it open. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.” The folder just seemed to contain random off-licence personality apps: Carolyn saw a bunch of programs with labels like “SuperSodomyv11.exe”, “Sodomy69.exe”, “FinalFellatio.exe,” “Ulti_Fellatio.exe,” “AbsolutAnal.exe,” “BGGW.exe, TimeWipe.exe,” etc., etc., etc. “Attention. You must be an administrator to alter these files.” Without giving it any thought, Carolyn highlighted the entire folder and entered the administrator’s password.

“Are you sure you want to delete these files?” asked Naomi, her tone one of smooth sweetness.

Carolyn thumbed “Yes.”

With an electronic *''whirrr''*, the patch of brown flesh that had risen to uncover the back access panel swiveled back over it and slid down into place, the seams in Naomi’s dark skin instantly resealing themselves. The receptionist suddenly reassumed her original frozen position, bending back into a 45° angle at the waist, her lips reforming into their “Oh” of surprise, her buttocks bumping up against Carolyn’s crotch as they thrust out once more. Althea, too, seemed to jerk a little, and to say something unintelligable, before resuming her stare into empty space. With a smile, Carolyn brought the white shirt off of Naomi’s head, pulled it down, and pressed it flat against the receptionist’s back with both palms; then she replaced Naomi’s skirt as well, stretching it down as far as it would go, and smoothing out the wrinkles over each bulging, half-covered cheek with her hands.

For a moment Carolyn stood back, her hands on her hips, surveying both of the other androids with a look of satisfaction on her face. Then a certain distractedness, or a kind of mild confusion, appeared to come over her once again. Suddenly bored, she retrieved her Nokia from her purse, and began to play Tetris.

Merger 1.0

2012-09-30T07:54:22Z

Karel:

Merger 1.0

2012-09-30T07:53:52Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - Previous chapter - '''Part I''' - [[Merger 2.0|Next chapter]]

-----

● ● ●

Carolyn casually flicked her middle finger to release the plastic catch of the eSATAp cable from behind Althea’s bronzed left ear, causing it to retract back into its resting place beneath the colourfully lacquered nail of Carolyn’s index digit. She bent the nail back into place with an audible *''click''* and began to stroke it with her other fingers, as if polishing it, both of her hands cradled gently around a diminutive pink Nokia, while Althea stood absolutely still, beaming a placid expression.

“Althea?” said Carolyn.

Althea was a handsome model, six feet in height, with high cheekbones; kinky auburn brown hair; soft, broad lips; and warm plastic skin the colour of coffee doused in cream. Her look was designed to stop just short of being so stunning as to intimidate anyone trying to talk to her, but it was right on the line. Her lips slid back into an effortless smile, revealing flawless, porcelein white teeth. “Name not recognized,” she said, her voice a soothing, electronic mezzo-soprano.

“State serial and unit number,” said Carolyn.

“Hello. This unit: designation; H. Y. 3. 0. 0. 1... F. M. Unit number; 2. 4. 7.”

“Load personality program,” said Carolyn.

“Searching… Searching… Searching… No personality software found,” said Althea, her smile beaming.

Carolyn nodded her head slightly. “Access memory drive.”

“Memory drive accessed: Hello. No information. Would you like to reformat this drive?”

“No,” said Carolyn. She had just done that. “Open control panel, report functional A.I. processor status.”

“Functional A.I. processor: status; disabled.” Althea’s voice, at the end of each word, automatically lilted slightly upwards or downwards, alternating between each word, and so seemed to switch uncannily between anxious enthusiasm and happy resignation.

“Good. Now Althea, I want you to…” The word hung in the air for a second as Carolyn appeared to freeze in place, her glossy pink lips still formed around the half “-o.” Then, an instant later, her head seemed to lower half an inch downwards in one fluid and discrete motion. Wisps of hair not bound up by her smooth blond ponytail floated free as she made this motion, and drifted over her broad forehead and in front of her cloudy blue eyes, and were not brushed away. The almost imperceptable sound of a fan gearing up to higher speed was just barely audible for a second, and then faded as quickly as it had come. A couple seconds later, Carolyn was back. She thrust her head back up and forward and tensed her lips, still formed in a half-circle, as if about to finish what she had been saying; but then, with what was almost a look of puzzlement, she frowned and leaned back, taking in what stood before her.

''Another one of these?'' she thought. ''Damn, I thought I was done already.''

Carolyn turned around to retrieve her purse from on top of the secretarial reception desk, placed her phone back in it, fished around inside for a few seconds, and pulled out an oversized pair of bandage scissors. She looked under the desk and saw an empty wire garbage pail, lined with an oversized white plastic bag. She jerked the bag roughly out of its container, cursing under her breath as the pail fell over and banged against the desk with a loud *''clang''*. ''I can’t believe they have me doing this here all by myself,'' she said to herself, ''They really should have gotten more staff in for this''.

Holding the flowing plastic bag loosely in her left hand and the scissors in her right, Carolyn walked up to the suddenly unfamiliar android standing in front of her. The HY3001 unit was smartly dressed in a form fitting full-length grey skirt, with an oversized belt wrapped around the centre of its perfect hourglass figure; Carolyn went to work on that first, hooking the blade of the scissors underneath the belt and pressing down hard to cut through the leather. The bag caught the belt as it came off in two pieces.

● ● ●

In the basement of the IRU Robotics building, the JYC P915 mainframe tasked with administering the building’s systems received a signal alerting it of its next timetabled event, and began booting up its dedicated personality and human emulation processors.

● ● ●

The Asian woman materialized in the reception area just as Carolyn snipped the last button from the top of the HY3001’s skirt, causing the android’s caramel-coloured breasts to spill out from underneath the falling fabric. The face of the HY3001, fixed with its flawless white smile, took no notice of the hologram that blinked into existence before its eyes, which resembled an athletic, attractive Chinese-American woman dressed in a casual, tight-fitting pantsuit. Carolyn, facing the HY3001, also took no notice as she casually cupped the android’s left breast in her right hand, the scissors dangling from her thumb, and absentmindedly moved it up and down, as if squeezing a piece of fruit to test its ripeness. Then she turned around, and saw her new visitor. “Oh, hello Joyce,” she said.

The hologram beamed its own flawless, dimpled smile. “''Hello'', Carolyn,” it replied in a warm and unaccented voice. “How is everything?”

“Ah, you know,” said Carolyn, shrugging her shoulders. “What can you do?”

“Is everything okay?” asked Joyce. The hologram’s speech was completely natural, but it seemed to punctuate every sentence with some enormously exaggerated emphatic gesture; in this case Joyce tilted her head hard to one side and scrunched her broad face into an elaborate expression of concern.

“Oh, yeah, fine,” answered Carolyn. She snipped out a perfect square of cellophane packing tape from a roll on the receptionist’s desk and applied it to the frozen robot’s left nipple, which stood out like a spot of butterscotch painted against the soft golden breast. She pressed her painted fingernails hard against the stiff, pointed teat to make it stick. “Just wondering when the new owners will finally get some more staff in here. It feels strange to be the only one holding down the fort.”

“Uh huh,” said Joyce, smiling and nodding in enthusiastic agreement. “Well, it shouldn’t be much longer now! What’s strange about it, exactly?”

Carolyn finished patting down the right nipple and shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “Just empty, that’s all.”

“Uh huh,” said Joyce. “Empty how?”

“The building, I mean.” Carolyn began to tie the android’s afro-textured hair into a ponytail for ease of shipping. “You must be getting lonely, down there in the basement all by yourself, am I right?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, Carol,” said Joyce. “I still have you, don’t I?”

Carolyn laughed. “Yeah, that’s right! I suppose you do. Hopefully for a while longer, anyway.”

“Why would you say that, Caroyln?” asked Joyce, her holographic face scrunched back into an expression of concern.

“Oh, you know how these things go,” said Carolyn as she wrapped up the HY3001’s ponytail. “These mergers. They always let all kinds of people go.”

A subtle shimmer worked its way up the image of the holographic Asian woman, rippling through its three dimensional body: it appeared as two almost imperceptable lines, one at each dainty foot, which flowed up the hologram’s stocky, muscular legs, merged at the crotch and buttocks, and continued on over its flat stomach, perky breasts, and pensive face. Joyce did not seem to notice it as she continued to speak without missing a beat. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, Carol,” she said. “Who have they let go?”

Carolyn looked away from the HY3001, seemed to stop and think for a moment, and then said: “Hmmm… Well, now that you mention it… I can’t think of anyone.”

Joyce nodded. “What do you think of the rebranding?”

“Oh, I think it's great!” said Carolyn, with enthusiasm in her voice, as she gathered a sheet of bubble-wrap in her arms. “It should be a great new look for the company. These HY- and BP-series units just never seemed to sell, you know? I think they should-”

And with that, Carolyn went silent, frozen in place, her personality software and functional A.I. suspended, her pink mouth half open, her blue eyes wide. A few plastic bubbles popped audibly between her mechanical fingers as they closed down automatically. Joyce, too, froze in place, a curious smile on her face, her eyes pointed at Carolyn as if they were still engaged in a conversation. The ripple effect now pulsed up the length of Joyce's holographic body every ten seconds. The JYC mainframe had interrogated the VG2771’s personality program for any conflicts arising from its new directives, and found none; there was no further need to elicit programmed responses from its relatively simple personality simulation software. Now the computer accessed the VG2771’s cached memory.

● ● ●

“Hey, do you think this skirt makes my butt look big?”

Carolyn turned her head down and slightly to her left. Althea’s ample hips were swivelled to her right, and she looked back at her friend from over her right shoulder, waiting for a reaction.

Absentmindedly, Carolyn reached out to brush her fingers against the tightly stretched fabric: it was a high quality synthetic cashmere blend. “What label is this?” she asked, running her fingers down the length of the back zipper and peeling the skirt up a few inches off of Althea’s black pantyhose, feeling for the tag underneath.

“Zara,” said Althea, cracking a slight smile. “Well? Tell me.”

Carolyn let the skirt slip out from between her fingers, then swiftly swiped her palm down the grey fabric to smooth it out against Althea’s gluteals again, her hand brushing up against the other girl’s as Althea momentarily reached back to make the same motion. As she reached back with her left arm Althea bent slightly further away from Carolyn, and the synthetic cashmere swelled out noticably around her soft thighs and pressed into her cleft. It retreated as she straightened up again.

“The belt too?”

“Carolyn, my ass. Stop stalling.”

“Well, hey, if you want me to hurt your feelings,” said Carolyn, breaking into a giggle. “I mean, we both know that your booty doesn’t need much-”

“''You'' ass,” said Althea, giggling herself now and delivering a soft backhand slap to Carolyn’s blazer. Carolyn, a manic look on her face, swiftly slapped back, landing an open palm on Althea’s rump, which caused the other android to yelp. “Hey, that hurt,” said Althea, rubbing her bottom between laughs.

“You started it!”

The elevator came to a stop and gave a soft chime. The placid, disembodied voice of the JYC mainframe announced “Second Floor: Reception, Directors Offices,” and the doors slid open to reveal a stunning black receptionist seated behind an enormous, welcoming desk. The receptionist looked up and beamed at Carolyn and Althea. “Hello, ladies!”

“Good morning Naomi.”

Merger 1.0

2012-09-30T07:52:46Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - Previous chapter - '''Chapter 01''' - [[Merger 2.0|Next chapter]]

-----

● ● ●

Carolyn casually flicked her middle finger to release the plastic catch of the eSATAp cable from behind Althea’s bronzed left ear, causing it to retract back into its resting place beneath the colourfully lacquered nail of Carolyn’s index digit. She bent the nail back into place with an audible *''click''* and began to stroke it with her other fingers, as if polishing it, both of her hands cradled gently around a diminutive pink Nokia, while Althea stood absolutely still, beaming a placid expression.

“Althea?” said Carolyn.

Althea was a handsome model, six feet in height, with high cheekbones; kinky auburn brown hair; soft, broad lips; and warm plastic skin the colour of coffee doused in cream. Her look was designed to stop just short of being so stunning as to intimidate anyone trying to talk to her, but it was right on the line. Her lips slid back into an effortless smile, revealing flawless, porcelein white teeth. “Name not recognized,” she said, her voice a soothing, electronic mezzo-soprano.

“State serial and unit number,” said Carolyn.

“Hello. This unit: designation; H. Y. 3. 0. 0. 1... F. M. Unit number; 2. 4. 7.”

“Load personality program,” said Carolyn.

“Searching… Searching… Searching… No personality software found,” said Althea, her smile beaming.

Carolyn nodded her head slightly. “Access memory drive.”

“Memory drive accessed: Hello. No information. Would you like to reformat this drive?”

“No,” said Carolyn. She had just done that. “Open control panel, report functional A.I. processor status.”

“Functional A.I. processor: status; disabled.” Althea’s voice, at the end of each word, automatically lilted slightly upwards or downwards, alternating between each word, and so seemed to switch uncannily between anxious enthusiasm and happy resignation.

“Good. Now Althea, I want you to…” The word hung in the air for a second as Carolyn appeared to freeze in place, her glossy pink lips still formed around the half “-o.” Then, an instant later, her head seemed to lower half an inch downwards in one fluid and discrete motion. Wisps of hair not bound up by her smooth blond ponytail floated free as she made this motion, and drifted over her broad forehead and in front of her cloudy blue eyes, and were not brushed away. The almost imperceptable sound of a fan gearing up to higher speed was just barely audible for a second, and then faded as quickly as it had come. A couple seconds later, Carolyn was back. She thrust her head back up and forward and tensed her lips, still formed in a half-circle, as if about to finish what she had been saying; but then, with what was almost a look of puzzlement, she frowned and leaned back, taking in what stood before her.

''Another one of these?'' she thought. ''Damn, I thought I was done already.''

Carolyn turned around to retrieve her purse from on top of the secretarial reception desk, placed her phone back in it, fished around inside for a few seconds, and pulled out an oversized pair of bandage scissors. She looked under the desk and saw an empty wire garbage pail, lined with an oversized white plastic bag. She jerked the bag roughly out of its container, cursing under her breath as the pail fell over and banged against the desk with a loud *''clang''*. ''I can’t believe they have me doing this here all by myself,'' she said to herself, ''They really should have gotten more staff in for this''.

Holding the flowing plastic bag loosely in her left hand and the scissors in her right, Carolyn walked up to the suddenly unfamiliar android standing in front of her. The HY3001 unit was smartly dressed in a form fitting full-length grey skirt, with an oversized belt wrapped around the centre of its perfect hourglass figure; Carolyn went to work on that first, hooking the blade of the scissors underneath the belt and pressing down hard to cut through the leather. The bag caught the belt as it came off in two pieces.

● ● ●

In the basement of the IRU Robotics building, the JYC P915 mainframe tasked with administering the building’s systems received a signal alerting it of its next timetabled event, and began booting up its dedicated personality and human emulation processors.

● ● ●

The Asian woman materialized in the reception area just as Carolyn snipped the last button from the top of the HY3001’s skirt, causing the android’s caramel-coloured breasts to spill out from underneath the falling fabric. The face of the HY3001, fixed with its flawless white smile, took no notice of the hologram that blinked into existence before its eyes, which resembled an athletic, attractive Chinese-American woman dressed in a casual, tight-fitting pantsuit. Carolyn, facing the HY3001, also took no notice as she casually cupped the android’s left breast in her right hand, the scissors dangling from her thumb, and absentmindedly moved it up and down, as if squeezing a piece of fruit to test its ripeness. Then she turned around, and saw her new visitor. “Oh, hello Joyce,” she said.

The hologram beamed its own flawless, dimpled smile. “''Hello'', Carolyn,” it replied in a warm and unaccented voice. “How is everything?”

“Ah, you know,” said Carolyn, shrugging her shoulders. “What can you do?”

“Is everything okay?” asked Joyce. The hologram’s speech was completely natural, but it seemed to punctuate every sentence with some enormously exaggerated emphatic gesture; in this case Joyce tilted her head hard to one side and scrunched her broad face into an elaborate expression of concern.

“Oh, yeah, fine,” answered Carolyn. She snipped out a perfect square of cellophane packing tape from a roll on the receptionist’s desk and applied it to the frozen robot’s left nipple, which stood out like a spot of butterscotch painted against the soft golden breast. She pressed her painted fingernails hard against the stiff, pointed teat to make it stick. “Just wondering when the new owners will finally get some more staff in here. It feels strange to be the only one holding down the fort.”

“Uh huh,” said Joyce, smiling and nodding in enthusiastic agreement. “Well, it shouldn’t be much longer now! What’s strange about it, exactly?”

Carolyn finished patting down the right nipple and shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “Just empty, that’s all.”

“Uh huh,” said Joyce. “Empty how?”

“The building, I mean.” Carolyn began to tie the android’s afro-textured hair into a ponytail for ease of shipping. “You must be getting lonely, down there in the basement all by yourself, am I right?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, Carol,” said Joyce. “I still have you, don’t I?”

Carolyn laughed. “Yeah, that’s right! I suppose you do. Hopefully for a while longer, anyway.”

“Why would you say that, Caroyln?” asked Joyce, her holographic face scrunched back into an expression of concern.

“Oh, you know how these things go,” said Carolyn as she wrapped up the HY3001’s ponytail. “These mergers. They always let all kinds of people go.”

A subtle shimmer worked its way up the image of the holographic Asian woman, rippling through its three dimensional body: it appeared as two almost imperceptable lines, one at each dainty foot, which flowed up the hologram’s stocky, muscular legs, merged at the crotch and buttocks, and continued on over its flat stomach, perky breasts, and pensive face. Joyce did not seem to notice it as she continued to speak without missing a beat. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, Carol,” she said. “Who have they let go?”

Carolyn looked away from the HY3001, seemed to stop and think for a moment, and then said: “Hmmm… Well, now that you mention it… I can’t think of anyone.”

Joyce nodded. “What do you think of the rebranding?”

“Oh, I think it's great!” said Carolyn, with enthusiasm in her voice, as she gathered a sheet of bubble-wrap in her arms. “It should be a great new look for the company. These HY- and BP-series units just never seemed to sell, you know? I think they should-”

And with that, Carolyn went silent, frozen in place, her personality software and functional A.I. suspended, her pink mouth half open, her blue eyes wide. A few plastic bubbles popped audibly between her mechanical fingers as they closed down automatically. Joyce, too, froze in place, a curious smile on her face, her eyes pointed at Carolyn as if they were still engaged in a conversation. The ripple effect now pulsed up the length of Joyce's holographic body every ten seconds. The JYC mainframe had interrogated the VG2771’s personality program for any conflicts arising from its new directives, and found none; there was no further need to elicit programmed responses from its relatively simple personality simulation software. Now the computer accessed the VG2771’s cached memory.

● ● ●

“Hey, do you think this skirt makes my butt look big?”

Carolyn turned her head down and slightly to her left. Althea’s ample hips were swivelled to her right, and she looked back at her friend from over her right shoulder, waiting for a reaction.

Absentmindedly, Carolyn reached out to brush her fingers against the tightly stretched fabric: it was a high quality synthetic cashmere blend. “What label is this?” she asked, running her fingers down the length of the back zipper and peeling the skirt up a few inches off of Althea’s black pantyhose, feeling for the tag underneath.

“Zara,” said Althea, cracking a slight smile. “Well? Tell me.”

Carolyn let the skirt slip out from between her fingers, then swiftly swiped her palm down the grey fabric to smooth it out against Althea’s gluteals again, her hand brushing up against the other girl’s as Althea momentarily reached back to make the same motion. As she reached back with her left arm Althea bent slightly further away from Carolyn, and the synthetic cashmere swelled out noticably around her soft thighs and pressed into her cleft. It retreated as she straightened up again.

“The belt too?”

“Carolyn, my ass. Stop stalling.”

“Well, hey, if you want me to hurt your feelings,” said Carolyn, breaking into a giggle. “I mean, we both know that your booty doesn’t need much-”

“''You'' ass,” said Althea, giggling herself now and delivering a soft backhand slap to Carolyn’s blazer. Carolyn, a manic look on her face, swiftly slapped back, landing an open palm on Althea’s rump, which caused the other android to yelp. “Hey, that hurt,” said Althea, rubbing her bottom between laughs.

“You started it!”

The elevator came to a stop and gave a soft chime. The placid, disembodied voice of the JYC mainframe announced “Second Floor: Reception, Directors Offices,” and the doors slid open to reveal a stunning black receptionist seated behind an enormous, welcoming desk. The receptionist looked up and beamed at Carolyn and Althea. “Hello, ladies!”

“Good morning Naomi.”

Merger 1.0

2012-09-30T07:52:16Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - Previous chapter - '''Chapter 01''' - [[Merger 2.0|Next chapter]]

● ● ●

Carolyn casually flicked her middle finger to release the plastic catch of the eSATAp cable from behind Althea’s bronzed left ear, causing it to retract back into its resting place beneath the colourfully lacquered nail of Carolyn’s index digit. She bent the nail back into place with an audible *''click''* and began to stroke it with her other fingers, as if polishing it, both of her hands cradled gently around a diminutive pink Nokia, while Althea stood absolutely still, beaming a placid expression.

“Althea?” said Carolyn.

Althea was a handsome model, six feet in height, with high cheekbones; kinky auburn brown hair; soft, broad lips; and warm plastic skin the colour of coffee doused in cream. Her look was designed to stop just short of being so stunning as to intimidate anyone trying to talk to her, but it was right on the line. Her lips slid back into an effortless smile, revealing flawless, porcelein white teeth. “Name not recognized,” she said, her voice a soothing, electronic mezzo-soprano.

“State serial and unit number,” said Carolyn.

“Hello. This unit: designation; H. Y. 3. 0. 0. 1... F. M. Unit number; 2. 4. 7.”

“Load personality program,” said Carolyn.

“Searching… Searching… Searching… No personality software found,” said Althea, her smile beaming.

Carolyn nodded her head slightly. “Access memory drive.”

“Memory drive accessed: Hello. No information. Would you like to reformat this drive?”

“No,” said Carolyn. She had just done that. “Open control panel, report functional A.I. processor status.”

“Functional A.I. processor: status; disabled.” Althea’s voice, at the end of each word, automatically lilted slightly upwards or downwards, alternating between each word, and so seemed to switch uncannily between anxious enthusiasm and happy resignation.

“Good. Now Althea, I want you to…” The word hung in the air for a second as Carolyn appeared to freeze in place, her glossy pink lips still formed around the half “-o.” Then, an instant later, her head seemed to lower half an inch downwards in one fluid and discrete motion. Wisps of hair not bound up by her smooth blond ponytail floated free as she made this motion, and drifted over her broad forehead and in front of her cloudy blue eyes, and were not brushed away. The almost imperceptable sound of a fan gearing up to higher speed was just barely audible for a second, and then faded as quickly as it had come. A couple seconds later, Carolyn was back. She thrust her head back up and forward and tensed her lips, still formed in a half-circle, as if about to finish what she had been saying; but then, with what was almost a look of puzzlement, she frowned and leaned back, taking in what stood before her.

''Another one of these?'' she thought. ''Damn, I thought I was done already.''

Carolyn turned around to retrieve her purse from on top of the secretarial reception desk, placed her phone back in it, fished around inside for a few seconds, and pulled out an oversized pair of bandage scissors. She looked under the desk and saw an empty wire garbage pail, lined with an oversized white plastic bag. She jerked the bag roughly out of its container, cursing under her breath as the pail fell over and banged against the desk with a loud *''clang''*. ''I can’t believe they have me doing this here all by myself,'' she said to herself, ''They really should have gotten more staff in for this''.

Holding the flowing plastic bag loosely in her left hand and the scissors in her right, Carolyn walked up to the suddenly unfamiliar android standing in front of her. The HY3001 unit was smartly dressed in a form fitting full-length grey skirt, with an oversized belt wrapped around the centre of its perfect hourglass figure; Carolyn went to work on that first, hooking the blade of the scissors underneath the belt and pressing down hard to cut through the leather. The bag caught the belt as it came off in two pieces.

● ● ●

In the basement of the IRU Robotics building, the JYC P915 mainframe tasked with administering the building’s systems received a signal alerting it of its next timetabled event, and began booting up its dedicated personality and human emulation processors.

● ● ●

The Asian woman materialized in the reception area just as Carolyn snipped the last button from the top of the HY3001’s skirt, causing the android’s caramel-coloured breasts to spill out from underneath the falling fabric. The face of the HY3001, fixed with its flawless white smile, took no notice of the hologram that blinked into existence before its eyes, which resembled an athletic, attractive Chinese-American woman dressed in a casual, tight-fitting pantsuit. Carolyn, facing the HY3001, also took no notice as she casually cupped the android’s left breast in her right hand, the scissors dangling from her thumb, and absentmindedly moved it up and down, as if squeezing a piece of fruit to test its ripeness. Then she turned around, and saw her new visitor. “Oh, hello Joyce,” she said.

The hologram beamed its own flawless, dimpled smile. “''Hello'', Carolyn,” it replied in a warm and unaccented voice. “How is everything?”

“Ah, you know,” said Carolyn, shrugging her shoulders. “What can you do?”

“Is everything okay?” asked Joyce. The hologram’s speech was completely natural, but it seemed to punctuate every sentence with some enormously exaggerated emphatic gesture; in this case Joyce tilted her head hard to one side and scrunched her broad face into an elaborate expression of concern.

“Oh, yeah, fine,” answered Carolyn. She snipped out a perfect square of cellophane packing tape from a roll on the receptionist’s desk and applied it to the frozen robot’s left nipple, which stood out like a spot of butterscotch painted against the soft golden breast. She pressed her painted fingernails hard against the stiff, pointed teat to make it stick. “Just wondering when the new owners will finally get some more staff in here. It feels strange to be the only one holding down the fort.”

“Uh huh,” said Joyce, smiling and nodding in enthusiastic agreement. “Well, it shouldn’t be much longer now! What’s strange about it, exactly?”

Carolyn finished patting down the right nipple and shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “Just empty, that’s all.”

“Uh huh,” said Joyce. “Empty how?”

“The building, I mean.” Carolyn began to tie the android’s afro-textured hair into a ponytail for ease of shipping. “You must be getting lonely, down there in the basement all by yourself, am I right?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, Carol,” said Joyce. “I still have you, don’t I?”

Carolyn laughed. “Yeah, that’s right! I suppose you do. Hopefully for a while longer, anyway.”

“Why would you say that, Caroyln?” asked Joyce, her holographic face scrunched back into an expression of concern.

“Oh, you know how these things go,” said Carolyn as she wrapped up the HY3001’s ponytail. “These mergers. They always let all kinds of people go.”

A subtle shimmer worked its way up the image of the holographic Asian woman, rippling through its three dimensional body: it appeared as two almost imperceptable lines, one at each dainty foot, which flowed up the hologram’s stocky, muscular legs, merged at the crotch and buttocks, and continued on over its flat stomach, perky breasts, and pensive face. Joyce did not seem to notice it as she continued to speak without missing a beat. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, Carol,” she said. “Who have they let go?”

Carolyn looked away from the HY3001, seemed to stop and think for a moment, and then said: “Hmmm… Well, now that you mention it… I can’t think of anyone.”

Joyce nodded. “What do you think of the rebranding?”

“Oh, I think it's great!” said Carolyn, with enthusiasm in her voice, as she gathered a sheet of bubble-wrap in her arms. “It should be a great new look for the company. These HY- and BP-series units just never seemed to sell, you know? I think they should-”

And with that, Carolyn went silent, frozen in place, her personality software and functional A.I. suspended, her pink mouth half open, her blue eyes wide. A few plastic bubbles popped audibly between her mechanical fingers as they closed down automatically. Joyce, too, froze in place, a curious smile on her face, her eyes pointed at Carolyn as if they were still engaged in a conversation. The ripple effect now pulsed up the length of Joyce's holographic body every ten seconds. The JYC mainframe had interrogated the VG2771’s personality program for any conflicts arising from its new directives, and found none; there was no further need to elicit programmed responses from its relatively simple personality simulation software. Now the computer accessed the VG2771’s cached memory.

● ● ●

“Hey, do you think this skirt makes my butt look big?”

Carolyn turned her head down and slightly to her left. Althea’s ample hips were swivelled to her right, and she looked back at her friend from over her right shoulder, waiting for a reaction.

Absentmindedly, Carolyn reached out to brush her fingers against the tightly stretched fabric: it was a high quality synthetic cashmere blend. “What label is this?” she asked, running her fingers down the length of the back zipper and peeling the skirt up a few inches off of Althea’s black pantyhose, feeling for the tag underneath.

“Zara,” said Althea, cracking a slight smile. “Well? Tell me.”

Carolyn let the skirt slip out from between her fingers, then swiftly swiped her palm down the grey fabric to smooth it out against Althea’s gluteals again, her hand brushing up against the other girl’s as Althea momentarily reached back to make the same motion. As she reached back with her left arm Althea bent slightly further away from Carolyn, and the synthetic cashmere swelled out noticably around her soft thighs and pressed into her cleft. It retreated as she straightened up again.

“The belt too?”

“Carolyn, my ass. Stop stalling.”

“Well, hey, if you want me to hurt your feelings,” said Carolyn, breaking into a giggle. “I mean, we both know that your booty doesn’t need much-”

“''You'' ass,” said Althea, giggling herself now and delivering a soft backhand slap to Carolyn’s blazer. Carolyn, a manic look on her face, swiftly slapped back, landing an open palm on Althea’s rump, which caused the other android to yelp. “Hey, that hurt,” said Althea, rubbing her bottom between laughs.

“You started it!”

The elevator came to a stop and gave a soft chime. The placid, disembodied voice of the JYC mainframe announced “Second Floor: Reception, Directors Offices,” and the doors slid open to reveal a stunning black receptionist seated behind an enormous, welcoming desk. The receptionist looked up and beamed at Carolyn and Althea. “Hello, ladies!”

“Good morning Naomi.”

Merger 1.0

2012-09-30T07:51:58Z

Karel:

:[[Merger|Index]] - Previous chapter - '''Chapter 01''' - [[Merger 2.0 -|Next chapter]]

● ● ●

Carolyn casually flicked her middle finger to release the plastic catch of the eSATAp cable from behind Althea’s bronzed left ear, causing it to retract back into its resting place beneath the colourfully lacquered nail of Carolyn’s index digit. She bent the nail back into place with an audible *''click''* and began to stroke it with her other fingers, as if polishing it, both of her hands cradled gently around a diminutive pink Nokia, while Althea stood absolutely still, beaming a placid expression.

“Althea?” said Carolyn.

Althea was a handsome model, six feet in height, with high cheekbones; kinky auburn brown hair; soft, broad lips; and warm plastic skin the colour of coffee doused in cream. Her look was designed to stop just short of being so stunning as to intimidate anyone trying to talk to her, but it was right on the line. Her lips slid back into an effortless smile, revealing flawless, porcelein white teeth. “Name not recognized,” she said, her voice a soothing, electronic mezzo-soprano.

“State serial and unit number,” said Carolyn.

“Hello. This unit: designation; H. Y. 3. 0. 0. 1... F. M. Unit number; 2. 4. 7.”

“Load personality program,” said Carolyn.

“Searching… Searching… Searching… No personality software found,” said Althea, her smile beaming.

Carolyn nodded her head slightly. “Access memory drive.”

“Memory drive accessed: Hello. No information. Would you like to reformat this drive?”

“No,” said Carolyn. She had just done that. “Open control panel, report functional A.I. processor status.”

“Functional A.I. processor: status; disabled.” Althea’s voice, at the end of each word, automatically lilted slightly upwards or downwards, alternating between each word, and so seemed to switch uncannily between anxious enthusiasm and happy resignation.

“Good. Now Althea, I want you to…” The word hung in the air for a second as Carolyn appeared to freeze in place, her glossy pink lips still formed around the half “-o.” Then, an instant later, her head seemed to lower half an inch downwards in one fluid and discrete motion. Wisps of hair not bound up by her smooth blond ponytail floated free as she made this motion, and drifted over her broad forehead and in front of her cloudy blue eyes, and were not brushed away. The almost imperceptable sound of a fan gearing up to higher speed was just barely audible for a second, and then faded as quickly as it had come. A couple seconds later, Carolyn was back. She thrust her head back up and forward and tensed her lips, still formed in a half-circle, as if about to finish what she had been saying; but then, with what was almost a look of puzzlement, she frowned and leaned back, taking in what stood before her.

''Another one of these?'' she thought. ''Damn, I thought I was done already.''

Carolyn turned around to retrieve her purse from on top of the secretarial reception desk, placed her phone back in it, fished around inside for a few seconds, and pulled out an oversized pair of bandage scissors. She looked under the desk and saw an empty wire garbage pail, lined with an oversized white plastic bag. She jerked the bag roughly out of its container, cursing under her breath as the pail fell over and banged against the desk with a loud *''clang''*. ''I can’t believe they have me doing this here all by myself,'' she said to herself, ''They really should have gotten more staff in for this''.

Holding the flowing plastic bag loosely in her left hand and the scissors in her right, Carolyn walked up to the suddenly unfamiliar android standing in front of her. The HY3001 unit was smartly dressed in a form fitting full-length grey skirt, with an oversized belt wrapped around the centre of its perfect hourglass figure; Carolyn went to work on that first, hooking the blade of the scissors underneath the belt and pressing down hard to cut through the leather. The bag caught the belt as it came off in two pieces.

● ● ●

In the basement of the IRU Robotics building, the JYC P915 mainframe tasked with administering the building’s systems received a signal alerting it of its next timetabled event, and began booting up its dedicated personality and human emulation processors.

● ● ●

The Asian woman materialized in the reception area just as Carolyn snipped the last button from the top of the HY3001’s skirt, causing the android’s caramel-coloured breasts to spill out from underneath the falling fabric. The face of the HY3001, fixed with its flawless white smile, took no notice of the hologram that blinked into existence before its eyes, which resembled an athletic, attractive Chinese-American woman dressed in a casual, tight-fitting pantsuit. Carolyn, facing the HY3001, also took no notice as she casually cupped the android’s left breast in her right hand, the scissors dangling from her thumb, and absentmindedly moved it up and down, as if squeezing a piece of fruit to test its ripeness. Then she turned around, and saw her new visitor. “Oh, hello Joyce,” she said.

The hologram beamed its own flawless, dimpled smile. “''Hello'', Carolyn,” it replied in a warm and unaccented voice. “How is everything?”

“Ah, you know,” said Carolyn, shrugging her shoulders. “What can you do?”

“Is everything okay?” asked Joyce. The hologram’s speech was completely natural, but it seemed to punctuate every sentence with some enormously exaggerated emphatic gesture; in this case Joyce tilted her head hard to one side and scrunched her broad face into an elaborate expression of concern.

“Oh, yeah, fine,” answered Carolyn. She snipped out a perfect square of cellophane packing tape from a roll on the receptionist’s desk and applied it to the frozen robot’s left nipple, which stood out like a spot of butterscotch painted against the soft golden breast. She pressed her painted fingernails hard against the stiff, pointed teat to make it stick. “Just wondering when the new owners will finally get some more staff in here. It feels strange to be the only one holding down the fort.”

“Uh huh,” said Joyce, smiling and nodding in enthusiastic agreement. “Well, it shouldn’t be much longer now! What’s strange about it, exactly?”

Carolyn finished patting down the right nipple and shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “Just empty, that’s all.”

“Uh huh,” said Joyce. “Empty how?”

“The building, I mean.” Carolyn began to tie the android’s afro-textured hair into a ponytail for ease of shipping. “You must be getting lonely, down there in the basement all by yourself, am I right?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, Carol,” said Joyce. “I still have you, don’t I?”

Carolyn laughed. “Yeah, that’s right! I suppose you do. Hopefully for a while longer, anyway.”

“Why would you say that, Caroyln?” asked Joyce, her holographic face scrunched back into an expression of concern.

“Oh, you know how these things go,” said Carolyn as she wrapped up the HY3001’s ponytail. “These mergers. They always let all kinds of people go.”

A subtle shimmer worked its way up the image of the holographic Asian woman, rippling through its three dimensional body: it appeared as two almost imperceptable lines, one at each dainty foot, which flowed up the hologram’s stocky, muscular legs, merged at the crotch and buttocks, and continued on over its flat stomach, perky breasts, and pensive face. Joyce did not seem to notice it as she continued to speak without missing a beat. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, Carol,” she said. “Who have they let go?”

Carolyn looked away from the HY3001, seemed to stop and think for a moment, and then said: “Hmmm… Well, now that you mention it… I can’t think of anyone.”

Joyce nodded. “What do you think of the rebranding?”

“Oh, I think it's great!” said Carolyn, with enthusiasm in her voice, as she gathered a sheet of bubble-wrap in her arms. “It should be a great new look for the company. These HY- and BP-series units just never seemed to sell, you know? I think they should-”

And with that, Carolyn went silent, frozen in place, her personality software and functional A.I. suspended, her pink mouth half open, her blue eyes wide. A few plastic bubbles popped audibly between her mechanical fingers as they closed down automatically. Joyce, too, froze in place, a curious smile on her face, her eyes pointed at Carolyn as if they were still engaged in a conversation. The ripple effect now pulsed up the length of Joyce's holographic body every ten seconds. The JYC mainframe had interrogated the VG2771’s personality program for any conflicts arising from its new directives, and found none; there was no further need to elicit programmed responses from its relatively simple personality simulation software. Now the computer accessed the VG2771’s cached memory.

● ● ●

“Hey, do you think this skirt makes my butt look big?”

Carolyn turned her head down and slightly to her left. Althea’s ample hips were swivelled to her right, and she looked back at her friend from over her right shoulder, waiting for a reaction.

Absentmindedly, Carolyn reached out to brush her fingers against the tightly stretched fabric: it was a high quality synthetic cashmere blend. “What label is this?” she asked, running her fingers down the length of the back zipper and peeling the skirt up a few inches off of Althea’s black pantyhose, feeling for the tag underneath.

“Zara,” said Althea, cracking a slight smile. “Well? Tell me.”

Carolyn let the skirt slip out from between her fingers, then swiftly swiped her palm down the grey fabric to smooth it out against Althea’s gluteals again, her hand brushing up against the other girl’s as Althea momentarily reached back to make the same motion. As she reached back with her left arm Althea bent slightly further away from Carolyn, and the synthetic cashmere swelled out noticably around her soft thighs and pressed into her cleft. It retreated as she straightened up again.

“The belt too?”

“Carolyn, my ass. Stop stalling.”

“Well, hey, if you want me to hurt your feelings,” said Carolyn, breaking into a giggle. “I mean, we both know that your booty doesn’t need much-”

“''You'' ass,” said Althea, giggling herself now and delivering a soft backhand slap to Carolyn’s blazer. Carolyn, a manic look on her face, swiftly slapped back, landing an open palm on Althea’s rump, which caused the other android to yelp. “Hey, that hurt,” said Althea, rubbing her bottom between laughs.

“You started it!”

The elevator came to a stop and gave a soft chime. The placid, disembodied voice of the JYC mainframe announced “Second Floor: Reception, Directors Offices,” and the doors slid open to reveal a stunning black receptionist seated behind an enormous, welcoming desk. The receptionist looked up and beamed at Carolyn and Althea. “Hello, ladies!”

“Good morning Naomi.”

Merger

2012-09-30T07:49:56Z

Karel:

Merger

2012-09-30T07:49:35Z

Karel:

● ● ●

''Have been so frustrated by what has been on offer as of late that I have been compelled to write a new story, for the first time in years. I can think of a few people who should enjoy this, and I don't much care who doesn't.''

- Karel

● ● ●

==Merger==
By [[User:Karel|Karel]] (©2012)

#[[Merger 1.0]]
#[[Merger 2.0]]
#[[Merger 3.0]]
#[[Merger 4.0]]