Andrew and the Sexbot Factory/Prototype/Part 7

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Part 7

The nurse looked up and cocked her head curiously at the door. She had a dangerous air about her, with her blonde hair pulled back into a tight and clinical bun, her piercing blue eyes lined with vampish mascara. Reed was reminded she was a pleasure droid when he noticed a stethoscope hanging from her neck that disappeared into her exposed cleavage. She momentarily went back to her terminal, but the second he began to creep forward, she fixed him with that same intense stare. Has she noticed me?

“Madame?” she asked in a sweet voice that clashed with her severe appearance.

“What is it, Nightingale?” Madame's voice responded from the room's speakers. It was the same cultured English accent as Samantha’s, but lacking the cruel mirth – or any humor at all. If anything, she sounded very perturbed.

“Can you tell me why the door to the test lab just opened?”

“You’re interrupting me in the midst of a small crisis to ask me what, precisely?”

“The door. To my lab,” Nightingale responded, putting an edge in her own voice to match Madame’s, “It just opened, and the system says it was opened manually – only no one’s there. I have the Project here, so if you’re not too busy to make sure-”

“Very well,” Madame sighed, “Give me a moment.” In the intervening silence Nightingale's eyes never left him. “Yes, it was opened manually. Surveillance footage shows nothing. It was probably a short in the system. I’ll send Portia to investigate once she is done investigating the charging station where Michelle had her accident.”

Nightingale muttered, “Michelle too?” and activated the terminal beside her bringing up a screen labeled Pending Fabrication. Below it, a list of names:

 Aphrodite, Goddess of Love
 Secret Agent Sam
 Rebecca
 Michelle the French Maid

Four in the queue?” Nightingale remarked in surprise.

“Four,” Madame’s answered tiredly. “Do be careful with the Project, Nightingale. I would hate to have another on the list. Finish your analysis quickly and perform the wipe at the earliest opportunity. This iteration has given us nothing but trouble.”

“Don’t worry about me, Madame; I‘m not taking any chances.” Nightingale left the terminal and walked cautiously toward the door, her eyes searching down every bank of terminals. Reed stepped out of her way and hurried to G’s side. Nightingale closed the door turned to survey the room again, muttering, “Nothing but trouble indeed…”

A series of cables ran from an exposed port on G’s side, connecting her to the terminal where Nightingale was working. A panel on her abdomen was acting as a display, showing a number of diagnostics he couldn’t make sense of. Suddenly, Nigtingale was jogging back to the terminal as quickly as her heels and tight dress permitted (far quicker than Reed would have guessed) and he moved to the other side of G’s table.

Nightingale’s fingers expertly blazed through menus to divide the display between two nearly identical sets of data. “What is going on here…” she muttered, staring at the screen. “Someone’s tampered with the initial transmission… recently…” A few more key presses. “And apparently… someone’s hiding from us!” Nightingale hurriedly removed one of G’s cables from the terminal and plugged it into a small port that opened on the back of her neck.

The display on G’s abdomen split, half of it taken up by a window marked, Naughty Nurse Nightingale [Ltd. Ed.] / Pleasuredroid v.208.0. Reed tapped ineffectually at the new window, trying to find some way of stopping her.

“Ah HA!” Nightingale cried, the display reading Reverting to original code… complete.. “Come out, come out, wherever you are…” she called, looking up from her own terminal and searching the room. He knew he could no longer hide from her. The moment she glanced behind him…

Reed noticed a link on Nightingale’s window reading More options. He pressed it and among the entries he saw Execute reverted code. He pressed it and she whirled around, her icy blue eyes wide, her smile revealing a set of glaringly white teeth. “Got you!”

The panel still prompted for input. Execute as root? Warning – this code may cause… he jabbed the confirmation and jumped back as she lunged for him, colliding with the table. She grinned maniacally as she leapt over G to reach him, and suddenly stopped.

“Resetting sexual systems,” her internal computer remarked.

“What… what is going on…” She turned away from Reed and bent over the table in behind her, trembling. She looked over her shoudler with a half-lidded smile, her fingers slipping under the high hem of her dress to press in on her cherry-red panties. “A girl robot,” she sighed.

Reed watched her uncertainly, “Fuck that!”, she suddenly exclaimed, wiggling her backside and calling, “Reed, you actually have to think about this?” A moment later, “Who cares?” She tried to pinch her ass, her fingers slipping on the taught latex, followed by a more successful smack. She enacting G’s side of our first… meeting.

Deciding Nightingale would be keeping herself busy, he turned his attention back to G. While the nurse continued her one-sided conversation, he searched through the menus on G’s panel until he found an input marked Reboot. He pressed it.

Nightingale continued, “Reed, would you just shut up and fuck m-“ She lurched forward as if mounted from behind, and she began to jerk back and forth, gasping and squealing in pleasure.

“Wow, do I really sound like that?” Reed turned and saw G sitting upright, watching the nurse with a concerned look.

Reed embraced her, kissing her passionately. G froze in initial surprise, but then fervently returned his affection until they were interrupted by Nightingale emitting a loud cry of, “AHHHHHH!”

“That is really distracting,” G muttered, as the nurse began to repeat the word, “Override!” amidst panting and moaning. “But if this is just a replay of what happened in the diner, it should be over pretty quickly.”

Reed ignored her teasing and said, “We need to get you out of here.”

G nodded. “Sure thing – but where are we? This place doesn’t look familiar…”

Reed showed her the touchscreen with Rebecca's directions. G looked worried. “We are… wow, that’s really far in.”

The nurse screamed in ecstasy, and the machinery in her back attempted to extend only to be blocked by the latex of her dress.

“Warning – unable to vent excess heat,” her computer cautioned.

Reed watched her struggle to free herself from her dress as the machinery in her back pressed harder against it, dragging the latex hem over her backside to expose her bare ass and bright red thong. A red cross marked with the letters ‘N N N’ was emblazoned on her left cheek, the words Limited Edition inscribed below in small black lettering.

“Classy,” muttered G, earning a brief hate-filled glare from Nightingale before the nurse’s rhythmic bouncing claimed her focus once more.

“Warning… warning…” Nightingale’s computer repeated, and her trembling hands managed to force the zipper on her dress just enough to free her pale breasts, the tightness of the latex pulling the bright red lace of the bra beneath them. They bounced as she convulsed and lost her grip on her zipper in another shuddering wave of pleasure, and the computer began to repeat the words, “Danger… danger…” Nightingale stumbled from the table and began taking halting steps toward them. White smoke poured from beneath her dress and from her mouth as she roared in frustration. “Fucking… human… fucking… Prototype!

G yanked out the cable connecting her to Nightingale and quickly slid off the table, pulling Reed down with her. Nightingale gave a final cry of, “F-f-f-ucking!” before an explosion rocked the room. Reed and G exchanged looks and then slowly peered over the table to see the nurse’s stocking-clad legs stumbling about, her waist ending in a protrusion of twisted metal and frayed, sparking wires. On the screen marked Pending Fabrication the name Naughty Nurse Nightingale [Ltd. Ed.] was appended to the list.

“Hey, I know someone those would be perfect for!” G announced cheerfully, watching the legs take their last few steps before falling over.

“Rebecca?” Reed asked. “Actually, she’s already on her way to a whole new body,” indicating her name on the ‘Pending Fabricattion’ list.

G smiled. “Well, good for her!”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Rebecca’s voice echoed through the room. “But I’m afraid Reed’s presence is now known – and Madame is directing the entire facility to your location.

Everyone?” G squeaked. “Coming… for us? I thought I had some friends in here...”

“Madame has provided a distorted account of Reed’s intentions here,” Rebecca responded, “and has painted you as his accomplice in some contrived scheme to assume control of this facility.”

“Can’t you do something?” Reed asked Rebecca in frustration.

“I am providing you this warning. And I suppose I could lock the door.” He heard a click from across the room. “If you have any other suggestions, I am listening.”

“G’s transmission,” Reed said. “Apparently you modified it before to hide me… can’t you do something with that?”

“Regrettably, no,” said Rebecca. “Madame has seen to that.”

G grabbed several cables and attached to the ports in her side, running them to one of the terminals. “Then we’ll just have to give them something new.”

“I don’t believe that would prove effective,” commented Rebecca.

G kept connecting cables, saying “Just make sure no one transmits a remote shutdown to me.” She took Reed by the hand and laid him on the table before climbing on top of him, her waist hovering over his. “When I say the word... everything you’ve got. OK?”

Reed nodded and G closed her eyes.

Something slammed into the door from outside. Reed turned to see it shudder from another impact. The door was metal and quite substantial – but whatever hit it from the outside was striking with tremendous force.

“G?” Reed asked, but she made no indication she could hear him. Her body was transitioning from grey to white, her breasts blossoming from her chest panel, her labia slick with fluid. “If you can hurry this at all…”

The door shuddered again, buckling inward under the pressure. “G?!” A final strike sent the door skidding inward and crashing on to the floor. On the other side he saw the faceless Prix, braced with her shoulder forward. She slowly straightened herself, slight scuff marks on her glossy jet-black shoulder and elbow the only sign of damage from the impact that had torn the door loose. Dozens, perhaps hundreds of robots filled the space behind her, a sea of intent and angry faces.

(Continued in part 8)




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