Investigative - Revision history

Spaz: Text replacement - " type=comment editintro=Extension:InputBox/editintro comment preload=Extension:InputBox/preload hidden=yes default=Extension talk:InputBox buttonlabel=Post a comment on the talk page " to "{{Template:AddComment-Story|{{PAGENAME}}}}"

2020-04-26T05:57:37Z

Text replacement - "<inputbox> type=comment editintro=Extension:InputBox/editintro comment preload=Extension:InputBox/preload hidden=yes default=Extension talk:InputBox buttonlabel=Post a comment on the talk page </inputbox>" to "{{Template:AddComment-Story|{{PAGENAME}}}}"

← Older revision		Revision as of 05:57, 26 April 2020
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	Bill caught her chin, not unkindly, and slipped his hand up under the red curls behind her ear to snick her master switch off. She stopped.		Bill caught her chin, not unkindly, and slipped his hand up under the red curls behind her ear to snick her master switch off. She stopped.
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	[[Stories\|← Story Archive]]		[[Stories\|← Story Archive]]

Spaz: Text replacement - "----- ← Story Archive" to " type=comment editintro=Extension:InputBox/editintro comment preload=Extension:InputBox/preload hidden=yes default=Extension talk:InputBox buttonlabel=Post a comment on the talk page ← Story Archive"

2020-04-26T00:59:15Z

Text replacement - "----- ← Story Archive" to "<inputbox> type=comment editintro=Extension:InputBox/editintro comment preload=Extension:InputBox/preload hidden=yes default=Extension talk:InputBox buttonlabel=Post a comment on the talk page </inputbox> ← Story Archive"

← Older revision		Revision as of 00:59, 26 April 2020
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	Bill caught her chin, not unkindly, and slipped his hand up under the red curls behind her ear to snick her master switch off. She stopped.		Bill caught her chin, not unkindly, and slipped his hand up under the red curls behind her ear to snick her master switch off. She stopped.
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	[[Stories\|← Story Archive]]		[[Stories\|← Story Archive]]

Spaz: Text replacement - "Back to the story archive" to "← Story Archive"

2019-12-29T23:39:57Z

Text replacement - "Back to the story archive" to "← Story Archive"

← Older revision		Revision as of 23:39, 29 December 2019
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	-----		-----

	[[Stories\|~~Back to the story archive~~]]		[[Stories\|← Story Archive]]

	[[Category:BA]]		[[Category:BA]]
	[[Category:Stories]]		[[Category:Stories]]

Spaz: Text replacement - "prioritised" to "prioritized"

2019-11-11T23:44:15Z

Text replacement - "prioritised" to "prioritized"

← Older revision		Revision as of 23:44, 11 November 2019
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	The tech room mainframe signalled the disconnect and restored Mrs Culver’s movement. She gasped and pushed herself back in the chair gripping the arms tightly as a series of tremors ran through her tense body. “Oh my!” she muttered, relaxing back after executing a half minute of delightfully programmed female climax of her own. She sat dreamily for a while running her hand over her now softening nipples through her blouse, the cable still running from the open chest panel just above. She squeezed her thighs together feeling hot wetness between the smooth plastic surfaces under her skirt. She had definitely not expected that sort of input and had not taken the precaution of closing her sex applications before linking up.		The tech room mainframe signalled the disconnect and restored Mrs Culver’s movement. She gasped and pushed herself back in the chair gripping the arms tightly as a series of tremors ran through her tense body. “Oh my!” she muttered, relaxing back after executing a half minute of delightfully programmed female climax of her own. She sat dreamily for a while running her hand over her now softening nipples through her blouse, the cable still running from the open chest panel just above. She squeezed her thighs together feeling hot wetness between the smooth plastic surfaces under her skirt. She had definitely not expected that sort of input and had not taken the precaution of closing her sex applications before linking up.

	As the glow of pleasure faded her work protocols began to climb back up her ~~prioritised~~ task list. She noted that, after some fun before her husband shut her down last night and now this, her sexual buffers were at over 70 percent. To be safe she ought to run system maintenance as another orgasm was bound to crash her higher functions but there were aspects from that latest file that she wanted to follow up urgently. What did they mean “Culver?” She couldn’t afford an hour sitting blankly right now. She even left her sex applications open to avoid having to reboot but would be careful not to run any more first-person files until she was ready for anything!		As the glow of pleasure faded her work protocols began to climb back up her prioritized task list. She noted that, after some fun before her husband shut her down last night and now this, her sexual buffers were at over 70 percent. To be safe she ought to run system maintenance as another orgasm was bound to crash her higher functions but there were aspects from that latest file that she wanted to follow up urgently. What did they mean “Culver?” She couldn’t afford an hour sitting blankly right now. She even left her sex applications open to avoid having to reboot but would be careful not to run any more first-person files until she was ready for anything!

	The still flushed redhead spun in her chair to check the archive decryption progress on her desk screen. She should be able to get some coherent history on the other android woman from the progress so far that might make some sense of the first-person files. Also, it looked like there was an ID return from the federal database. The blonde’s serial number corresponded to Emily Clarke, a Hitachi custom-build based on a model 642. She had been designed for Allure Magazine as a reporter and had recently upgraded and gone freelance. Mrs Culver took full advantage of being a machine as she scoured the decrypted archive sections through her hard link and pulled up everything she could on Emily Clarke from the net via the ‘human’ interface on the desktop. A picture began to emerge.		The still flushed redhead spun in her chair to check the archive decryption progress on her desk screen. She should be able to get some coherent history on the other android woman from the progress so far that might make some sense of the first-person files. Also, it looked like there was an ID return from the federal database. The blonde’s serial number corresponded to Emily Clarke, a Hitachi custom-build based on a model 642. She had been designed for Allure Magazine as a reporter and had recently upgraded and gone freelance. Mrs Culver took full advantage of being a machine as she scoured the decrypted archive sections through her hard link and pulled up everything she could on Emily Clarke from the net via the ‘human’ interface on the desktop. A picture began to emerge.

Spaz: Text replacement - "realise" to "realize"

2019-11-02T05:20:13Z

Text replacement - "realise" to "realize"

← Older revision		Revision as of 05:20, 2 November 2019
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	According to the report, a beaten up android girl had been found in the back of a damaged produce truck when it arrived at the fruit packers last night. It was obviously a civilian model and quite expensive but dressed in combat clothing with an automatic weapon, missing several access panels and hotwired into a salvaged power cell. Not the usual sort of thing at all!		According to the report, a beaten up android girl had been found in the back of a damaged produce truck when it arrived at the fruit packers last night. It was obviously a civilian model and quite expensive but dressed in combat clothing with an automatic weapon, missing several access panels and hotwired into a salvaged power cell. Not the usual sort of thing at all!

	The girl in question was already laid out face up on the metal trolley and Mrs Culver walked around her to get a good look. She was pretty. Her icy blue eyes stared at the ceiling in a blank but otherwise very realistic mid-twenties blonde Caucasian face. Short, about five-three with mid-length blonde hair. Her knees and elbows were bent, limbs sticking up stiff and unnatural, and the redhead ~~realised~~ that she must have been hunched over on all fours when she shut down. On the work bench was a pair of scuffed power cells and a bunch of wiring from some heavy duty android.		The girl in question was already laid out face up on the metal trolley and Mrs Culver walked around her to get a good look. She was pretty. Her icy blue eyes stared at the ceiling in a blank but otherwise very realistic mid-twenties blonde Caucasian face. Short, about five-three with mid-length blonde hair. Her knees and elbows were bent, limbs sticking up stiff and unnatural, and the redhead realized that she must have been hunched over on all fours when she shut down. On the work bench was a pair of scuffed power cells and a bunch of wiring from some heavy duty android.

	Mrs Culver slipped her suit jacket off and hung it up. The fitted sleeveless blouse she wore underneath showed where the deep freckles of her sun-kissed arms ended in a seam at her shoulders with the smooth pale plastiskin that covered the most of her artificial body. She got to work stripping the other robot out of her oversized combat clothes and boots to make an assessment.		Mrs Culver slipped her suit jacket off and hung it up. The fitted sleeveless blouse she wore underneath showed where the deep freckles of her sun-kissed arms ended in a seam at her shoulders with the smooth pale plastiskin that covered the most of her artificial body. She got to work stripping the other robot out of her oversized combat clothes and boots to make an assessment.
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	I teetered on the brink of involuntary shutdown for long moments until one of the mercs groaned and rolled over – not dead! The one at my feet should be fine as my strangle hold caused no long term injuries. My temporary paralysis ended with the chance of survival for my wounded pursuers and I rushed forwards to pull their weapons away, covering them with the gun though I doubted I could pull the trigger. I was moving towards the second man to check for signs of life; already I was confident I could run again now, my firmware satisfied with the need to contact the emergency services and - by happy coincidence - save my own plastic skin; when the woman merc suddenly rolled over and brought up her gun.		I teetered on the brink of involuntary shutdown for long moments until one of the mercs groaned and rolled over – not dead! The one at my feet should be fine as my strangle hold caused no long term injuries. My temporary paralysis ended with the chance of survival for my wounded pursuers and I rushed forwards to pull their weapons away, covering them with the gun though I doubted I could pull the trigger. I was moving towards the second man to check for signs of life; already I was confident I could run again now, my firmware satisfied with the need to contact the emergency services and - by happy coincidence - save my own plastic skin; when the woman merc suddenly rolled over and brought up her gun.

	For an instant our eyes met: my own which I know from the design specs and from the mirror are a pretty blue-flecked green and hers a cold, staring, dark brown. I’m well programmed as an observer so an instant is all I need, even with my systems at breaking point. I noted the row of dry bullet holes stitched across her digi-cam combat shirt and the frayed carbon fibre endo jutting from the shattered remains of her left arm as she raised her weapon one-handed, clumsy. Her legs did not seem to be responding properly and I had no problems at all putting a carefully aimed burst into her face now I knew she was just a combat droid. I’m no expert myself but I know enough to ~~realise~~ that you do need to be an expert to put these things down easily; they are tough with critical components well armoured and sure enough she continued to struggle around on the dirt as I strode over and kicked the weapon away.		For an instant our eyes met: my own which I know from the design specs and from the mirror are a pretty blue-flecked green and hers a cold, staring, dark brown. I’m well programmed as an observer so an instant is all I need, even with my systems at breaking point. I noted the row of dry bullet holes stitched across her digi-cam combat shirt and the frayed carbon fibre endo jutting from the shattered remains of her left arm as she raised her weapon one-handed, clumsy. Her legs did not seem to be responding properly and I had no problems at all putting a carefully aimed burst into her face now I knew she was just a combat droid. I’m no expert myself but I know enough to realize that you do need to be an expert to put these things down easily; they are tough with critical components well armoured and sure enough she continued to struggle around on the dirt as I strode over and kicked the weapon away.

	Still functioning but blinded by the bullet mashed remains of her plastic face and hopefully shattered optics underneath, the android-girl writhed violently as I pummelled her electronic guts a few times with the butt of my weapon. On the third or fourth blow she spasmed and relaxed to lie in a gently twitching heap. I spared a glance for her wounded companions but they posed no threat right now so I turned back to her; this might just be a lucky break for once. She seemed to be trying to talk, the lower half of her formerly handsome Hispanic features was mostly intact and her jaw worked to shape a garbled whisper with a heavy buzzing overtone. I caught the words ‘fuck doll’ and ‘rip you apart’ but I ignored her as I tore open her shirt and pulled it and her small backpack off her feebly fighting body.		Still functioning but blinded by the bullet mashed remains of her plastic face and hopefully shattered optics underneath, the android-girl writhed violently as I pummelled her electronic guts a few times with the butt of my weapon. On the third or fourth blow she spasmed and relaxed to lie in a gently twitching heap. I spared a glance for her wounded companions but they posed no threat right now so I turned back to her; this might just be a lucky break for once. She seemed to be trying to talk, the lower half of her formerly handsome Hispanic features was mostly intact and her jaw worked to shape a garbled whisper with a heavy buzzing overtone. I caught the words ‘fuck doll’ and ‘rip you apart’ but I ignored her as I tore open her shirt and pulled it and her small backpack off her feebly fighting body.
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	I reboot looking at a dirty ceiling made of steel struts and corrugated plastic. I’ve been offline for maybe a couple of days I think. My file system is in chaos with dozens of first-persons open at once and my archive locked. The last things I remember, in no particular order, are snatches of hiding behind racks of android boxes, listening to a group talking around a table across a dark barn or warehouse, running through the dark, being grabbed roughly and thrown against a crate and shorting out violently on the floor while a bunch of what look like soldiers just stand and watch.		I reboot looking at a dirty ceiling made of steel struts and corrugated plastic. I’ve been offline for maybe a couple of days I think. My file system is in chaos with dozens of first-persons open at once and my archive locked. The last things I remember, in no particular order, are snatches of hiding behind racks of android boxes, listening to a group talking around a table across a dark barn or warehouse, running through the dark, being grabbed roughly and thrown against a crate and shorting out violently on the floor while a bunch of what look like soldiers just stand and watch.

	I can’t make much sense of it but at least I’m online now. I try to sit up but my motors are offline below the neck. I lift my head and ~~realise~~ the people talking are gathered around me where I’m lying. Looking down I ~~realise~~ I’m naked, or nearly so, my belly panel is open and a grey plastic android girl is working inside me to tape up a hose which dribbles blue-green fluid. That looks pretty bad to me. Whatever it is spatters onto something it shouldn’t and my mind flickers with corrupted code, vision flaring and I can feel my face and head twitching. The grey plastic girl, a tech of some sort I hope, swabs the spill away and I am restored to coherent thought to be greeted by a host of memory sapping system alerts.		I can’t make much sense of it but at least I’m online now. I try to sit up but my motors are offline below the neck. I lift my head and realize the people talking are gathered around me where I’m lying. Looking down I realize I’m naked, or nearly so, my belly panel is open and a grey plastic android girl is working inside me to tape up a hose which dribbles blue-green fluid. That looks pretty bad to me. Whatever it is spatters onto something it shouldn’t and my mind flickers with corrupted code, vision flaring and I can feel my face and head twitching. The grey plastic girl, a tech of some sort I hope, swabs the spill away and I am restored to coherent thought to be greeted by a host of memory sapping system alerts.

	There is a flash looking guy and a grim looking woman standing over me too. The woman has a tablet plugged into my chest panel, who the fuck does she think she is!? They are arguing but I can’t make much sense of it as the woman keeps tapping away at her screen and screwing with my systems. They keep talking about footage and encryption and uplinks. She wants information for “damage limitation” and he wants to “just scrap it and move”. Scrap what? Me?		There is a flash looking guy and a grim looking woman standing over me too. The woman has a tablet plugged into my chest panel, who the fuck does she think she is!? They are arguing but I can’t make much sense of it as the woman keeps tapping away at her screen and screwing with my systems. They keep talking about footage and encryption and uplinks. She wants information for “damage limitation” and he wants to “just scrap it and move”. Scrap what? Me?

Spaz: New page: Investigative By BA Mrs Culver left the Sheriff’s office with the case file in her hand and walked past the other glass walled offices of the Department to the tech room where she usua...

2014-12-31T20:01:05Z

New page: Investigative By BA Mrs Culver left the Sheriff’s office with the case file in her hand and walked past the other glass walled offices of the Department to the tech room where she usua...

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