House Call

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Jack drove his work van down the hedge-lined driveway and checked the time. He should have been home an hour ago, but the woman on the other end, ‘Kimberly’, had that demanding, entitled tone that guaranteed she’d leave him a nasty review if he didn’t see her tonight. Besides, the problem didn’t sound that serious – an older maid-bot on the fritz, probably just a software update gone wrong.

He knocked on the door of the McMansion and it immediately snapped open – on the other side stood a young woman, gorgeous despite her look of stern disapproval. Her flawless complexion and stunning figure were undoubtedly aided by numerous spa days and expensive personal trainers.

“Kimberly?” Jack asked. She was dressed in exercise clothes, steel-grey tights hugging her toned legs, her feet in pristine sneakers, a fitted running jacket unzipped down to her pink sports bra.

“About time you showed up,” she growled, green eyes peering beneath her dark, immaculately swept bangs, her chin-length hair trimmed in a precise edge. “I’m late for my run.”

“Well I’m sorry, but I did just come from another-“ Jack began, but she simply rolled her eyes and turned, walking back into the house. He let his voice trail off, following her down their hall through the sanitized and sparsely decorated foyer.

“Our piece-of-shit maid-bot started acting up,” Kimberly announced, maintaining a brisk pace. “My husband returns home tomorrow morning, and the house is a disaster… so I’ll need you to fix her straight away.”

Having some difficulty drawing his eyes off the spandex-constrained jiggle of her geometrically perfect ass, Jack gave a belated response of, “…well, depending on what’s wrong with her, I might be able to-”

“Fix her tonight,” Kimberly insisted, pushing open a door. “Whatever it takes.”

Jack stepped past her and found a small guest-room with an older model maid-bot lying across the white linen of the bed. Her skin had that pre-dermasynth sheen to it, and there were even visible seams at her elbows and ankles. Despite her age, she seemed well-cared for – even her simple black dress and white apron were immaculate, and her black hair was done up in an elaborate braid. The maid-bot’s pretty face with its slightly flushed cheeks appeared to be sleeping, her long-lashed eyes closed, a pleasant smile across her soft lips.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Jack said, looking the antique maid up and down, “but I gotta say… with a model this old, if you’re not comfortable with regular maintenance, you’re probably better off getting something newer.”

“Tell that to my husband!” Kimberly snapped in an exasperated tone. “I’ve been begging him constantly to get rid of this thing! But for some reason he’s ‘attached’ to this outdated, worthless…” she collected herself and suddenly announced, “I’m going for my run now.”

“Hey, before you go, can you tell me when she was last-“

The door closed behind her with a ‘click’, and Jack sighed. “Lovely owner you have there,” he muttered, turning the maid-bot’s contended face aside to expose her main data port. Attaching a series of converters to adapt his gear to the primitive data port, he plugged the cable into the opening on her neck. His laptop showed limited diagnostic information for an early model “SU-513 Susie Domestic Droid”. None of her components seemed to be original, but even these replacements were limited by what was still compatible with her obsolete core processor. Still, they all were all coming up green. Turning his attention to her update log, Jack saw what he expected was the problem.

“Unauthorized software update,” Jack murmured, pulling up a detailed view. The software package itself contained no identification or documentation, but he did see it had been a cross-bot transfer, the source being one “K1M-H3003 (Kimberly Ltd Ed).”

Jack chuckled to himself. “Of course Kimberly’s a robot. Well, let’s see if we can’t remove this-“

Suddenly, he heard fans inside her whirr to life as the maid began to stir, letting out a pouty moan. She turned her head to face him, her large, dark eyes blinking in simulated-surprise to see him beside her on the bed.

“I didn’t turn you on,” muttered Jack, looking at his laptop for some explanation.

“You didn’t?” the maid-bot purred, writhing on the sheets.

His diagnostic screen began to flood with warnings, then errors as her core programming was quickly corrupted by whatever was in that unauthorized software package. Noting the erratic behavior of her CPU display as the maid slid a stocking-clad leg against him, Jack knew he was dealing with a nympho-virus – and judging from the load it was placing on her systems, he was looking at a possible core-breach unless he could get her under control. That meant using his years of technical skill and training to remove the virus or employing more improvised methods to give her systems exactly what the virus demanded. Watching her flick open the buttons of her blouse to reveal the soft swell of her ample bust, Jack told himself that the best technicians relied on a combination of training and improvisation.

While continuing to gather diagnostic data on her systems that would allow him to identify and remove the virus, he undid his trousers with his other hand. The maid-bot didn’t need any further invitation, her plastic nails tearing an opening in her nylon stockings with a plaintive whimper, then hiking up her black dress and pouncing on his lap, slamming her outdated synthetic sex over his cock. Watching the screen, Jack noted that after an initial spike in her ancient CPUs, her system load began to taper off. With each shuddering thrust she was giving her virus-corrupted programming exactly what it wanted, and she began to moan contentedly as her artificial body fell into a smooth rhythm.

Jack found it difficult to work with the clearly artificial but still beautiful doll-like maid pumping him in slow, lascivious motions. Her soft lips pecked at his neck while he worked the keyboard one-handed, trying to configure the anti-virus that would cleanse her systems. But he found himself in no rush, his other hand slipping under her dress, caressing the soft material of her skin right along her artificial seams. He saw the feedback play out upon his screen, and the maid-bots escalating moans and buzzing machinery confirmed what the display told were her most sensitive areas. He was soon sending her into spasms of pleasure by tweaking her perfectly circular nipples and caressing the underside of the seam where her broad hips met her thighs.

Jack was considering whether the anti-virus might be more effective pre, post, or mid-orgasm when the door flung open. There stood Kimberly, a look of melodramatic shock across her sculpted features. “Susie!” she gasped. “Stop fucking this man right now!”

“No!” Jack exclaimed, hammering the key that would deploy the anti-virus as the maid-bot’s systems began to redline. “You’ll overload her systems!”

But it was too late – the doomed maid-bot struggled to process her systems contradictory instructions, the virus’s core imperative of sex and the admin-level command countermanding that same compulsion. The mis-configured anti-virus did nothing to soothe her spiking processors as the maid sat bolt-upright, stiffly trying to dismount and then plunging back down upon Jack as her plastic head twitched sharply, her perfectly braided hair going askew, her dark brown eyes fluttering in confusion.

“Unable to comply!” she chirped sweetly as Jack’s laptop began to chime in warning, her core temperature reaching dangerous levels. She managed to stop her thrashing head by clasping it with both hands, and for a moment she almost seemed to regain control. She blinked at Jack, head bobbing as she continued to ride him, cheerfully announcing, “My name is Sus-“. A shrill warning sounded from his laptop, half a second before head exploded mid-syllable. Her manicured hands splayed to frame the empty space where they had once gripped her smiling face. Her neck buzzed and snapped with electricity as her whole body shuddered, then slumped against Jack.

“Is this what you call a repair job?” Kimberly gasped, gesturing at the twitching, headless maid.

Jack pulled the robot off of him. “She had a nympho virus, one you transmitted to her, and she would have been fine if-“

“I gave her?!” she declared, arching a manicured eyebrow. “You’re going to have to come up with a better story than that! When my husband comes home and finds out that you’ve destroyed his maid, well… I would not want to be you!“

Looking at her with her supremely triumphant smirk, Jack had a sudden realization. “You planned this!”

Rather than looking shocked, Kimberly gave a predatory smile. “Did I?”

“You said yourself you’ve been trying to get rid of her – and when your husband refused, you figured out how to destroy her and pin it on some random asshole.” He looked around the room, noting a security camera in the corner.

“I suppose you can try telling that to my husband,” Kimberly said without losing her smile. “But for now I think you’d better go.”

“You know, you hired me to fix a robot,” Jack said, grabbing his laptop. “And that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

“You’ve done quite enough ‘fixing’ already,” Kimberly insisted, holding open the door. “Just get-“ suddenly, her eyes went wide. “What are you doing?!”

“Some pro-bono work,” Jack replied, browsing the K1M-H3003 model’s file system via the maid bot’s still functioning wireless systems. He quickly located the nympho-virus Kimberly had deployed to the maid within the newer bot’s own systems, and though it had been quarantined, it was a simple matter to override her virus protection.

“Get out of my-!” Kimberly stiffened briefly and then relaxed, her sudden, smoldering glower replaced with a half-lidded, sultry stare. But it was only for a moment – she shook her head, blinked, then fixed him with a neutral expression. "Like I said, you need to leave.”

His laptop informed him he had been locked out, and it appeared the virus wasn’t able to make much headway against her higher-end systems. With a sigh, Jack packed up his kit, dreading the call he would be receiving whenever the maid’s owner returned. Despite the truth behind what had happened, he doubted that the type of man who owned a droid like Kimberly would be willing to listen to his side of the story.

He noticed that while following Kimberly down the hall, her pace had slowed significantly from before, her hips now moving with a gentle sway. She hesitated before the front door, then turned to face him. “Can I get you anything before you go?” she asked, suddenly coquettish, her fingers playing at the zipper of her jacket.

“Isn’t your husband going to be mad enough as it is?” Jack asked with a smirk.

The words seemed to jolt Kimberly out of her sultry reverie, and she pulled open the door.

Jack stepped up to her, meeting her disapproving stare. He didn’t need his diagnostic equipment to see that the virus was at war with her base programming, its small victories evident in her increased simulated breathing, the slight rubbing of her thighs, her nipples stiffening within her pink sports bra. Her gaze faltered as she irritably brushed her dark bangs from her eyes. Suddenly, she pushed the door shut and sandwiched him between it and her own body.

“I n-need you to t-take a look at me, Jack,” she moaned, grinding herself against him as her internal components audibly surrendered to the virus’s demands with whirrs and clicks. “I’m a very expensive model, t-top of the line…” she pulled her sports bra over her pert breasts. “I shouldn’t be susceptible t-t-t-“ her desperate pleading stopped when he palmed one of her breasts, and with a whimper she collapsed into him, panting, her hands feebly gripping his shoulders.

Placating her with a one-handed caress of her tits, he pulled his laptop free again, set it on a side-table, and drew out the diagnostic cable. After inserting it into Kimberly’s main data port at the top of her neck his screen flooded with reports showing her systems on the verge of redlining. He tried use her to gain access to the home security system and erase any compromising footage, but her systems were proving too unstable.

“Kimberly, would you please erase today’s surveillance records and disable the monitoring system?” He asked, giving her an additional squeeze.

“Admin access d-denied,” she panted, and he thought he saw a faint smile flicker across her lips.

“Let me ask this a different way,” he said, slipping her tights over her round backside, down her taught, trembling legs. She spun in place and bent forward against the door, perfectly matching her sex to his height by rising up on the toes of her sneakers. He entered her and her systems went wild for a moment, then stabilized as her virus-adjusted needs were met.

With one eye on the screen, his hands explored her body, seeing her pleasure spike even further as his fingers slipped between her thighs. “Oh God!” she whimpered as he massaged within her folds, her legs teetering as she attempted to maintain her height calculation.

Jack tapped a few keys on his laptop, opening a breach in her overwhelmed systems. “Now, about my previous request?”

“Admin access g-granted!” she moaned, pushing herself harder against him. “Security footage e-erased!”

“And erase me from your memory as well,” he added, then hastily interjected, “Err… wait!”

“Done!” the fembot announced, then came to a shuddering halt. Jack glanced over at his display to see her levels spiking again. She began to haltingly buck her hips against him, but it was clear her software no longer recognized him, and thus she was not fulfilling the virus-fueled compulsion to fuck. Other systems did however register the stimulation of him inside her, and in confusion she only began to pump harder.

“Kimberly, I’m here! Recognize me!” Jack tried, also attempting to reverse her Jack-centric amnesia via his laptop, but his reports only showed spiking temperatures and overtaxed processors. Amidst her frantic pumping, panels sprang open across her supple body to provide emergency ventilation to her overheating components. Jack couldn’t help but notice that, true to her earlier claim, she really was built with top-shelf parts.

“Temperature warning!” Kimberly announced, smoke wisping from her trembling lips, her green eyes straying in confusion. “Emergency-cy shut down!” But the virus blocked the emergency procedure, and the fembot continued to gyrate and smolder. She lost her footing and after a sudden slap of her pert backside against him, he was climaxing inside of her. Her head ratcheted to look behind her, an expression of absolute bewilderment on her features a moment before her face panel blew off, leaving a tangled mesh of smoking electronics. With a mournful buzzing, her head produced a shower of sparks and then her panel-covered body went rigid, balanced on her heels and pegged to his still throbbing manhood.

Jack brought the damaged Kimberly in with the headless maid, arranging the two of them to give the impression they had been ‘involved’ with each other when their respective malfunctions took them. Erasing all other traces of his presence as best he could, he grabbed his gear and left the house, hoping he wouldn’t be hearing from the owner of these two droids, or worse yet, his lawyer.


Jack took the morning’s first call with some trepidation, offering a somewhat shaky, “J and J Robot Repair…”

“I have two severely damaged robots!” a flustered man stated in a way that sounded like he had been through this before. “They got up to something while I was out. Can you send someone over right away? Otherwise I’m calling the next guy on the list.”

Jack grinned to himself, shifting his scheduled appointments on to his partner. “Sure, I’ll be right over.”

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