Shannon's Third Law

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Her eyes lit up, and came to rest on the only man she’d ever loved.

She didn’t really know anything about him. Just that he had bought 12 hours of her service.

Normally, clubs wouldn’t accept reservations without a public ID.

This wasn’t a normal club.

The Donkey Show was in an alley at the wrong end of Key West, the place that locals don’t want tourists to find out about. It was one of the worst-run sex clubs in the whole world, and Shannon was one of its “stars.”

Shannon might have been in a position to complain about the poor conditions, if she understood. Or cared. She had only been outside twice in her life.

Since Shannon was a companion – the usual term for a human-appearing robot, designed for sexual perfection – her only concern was the satisfaction of any man or woman who could afford her services.

She could easily keep up with any human sexual partner. She looked young – twenty, maybe, definitely still college-age, but with no visible body fat other than her large, tight breasts. Her silicone-composite skin was clear and a little pale.

She looked like a porn star, and with her superhuman stamina and detailed sexual database, she could fuck better than any porn star. Shannon had never seen a donkey show before, but if commanded to she wouldn’t have missed a beat.

And now, as happened more often than not, she was left in the position of playing catch-up with her new master.

“My name is Shannon, and I’m here for your every pleasure,” she gave him the pre-programmed line, pausing to flick back her lustrous red hair.

“I’ve looked at you for a long time, but I’ve never done this before,” he told her, reeling from the happy-hour shots he downed right before taking control of his perfect plaything. He was a large man in his late forties, at least 350 pounds, and wearing a stained plaid polo shirt that barely managed to hide the hairs on his stomach.

Her logic center begged her for more information. “What should I call you, handsome?”

“Do you need to say anything?” Immediately, she went silent, concluding that he wanted to run things his way tonight. She was not compelled to stop talking, but decided to save her words for the right moment.

She pirouetted for him, showing off her blemish-free body. Of all the seduction subroutines she used, this one was the most successful with older men like her partner – direct.

She moved to make eye contact with him. They were almost the same height.

“Are you ready for me? I want you now.” She made sure to give him a good look at her engorged nipples.

That was the first place he went. He twisted her nipples, eliciting a scream of pleasure. He grabbed her firm D-cups, and she responded by grinding her lower body into his, and kissing him hard. She could taste the scotch on his tongue.

“My God, you’re beautiful,” he told her, eyes half-open, reaching to place a dirty finger in her wet vaginal entry.

For the 62,337th time, Shannon called up her sexual subroutines while the Unnamed Man pawed her roughly. She used the kiss to monitor thousands of her partner’s bodily functions.

In a few slow movements, her hands mapped the contours of the man’s penis and her own sex adjusted itself to fit him. Her lubrication pumps activated again, in time with her soft moaning and deeper breathing.

Satisfied that her systems were ready for whatever he had to bring, she backed up slowly to lie on the bed. She easily took his extra weight as he mounted her.

The second his genitals made contact with hers, her insides exploded with activity. She was more than strong enough to move her pelvic area in sync with his feeble thrusts.

He wasn’t helping her much, but even Shannon’s deeply outmoded sexual technology could more than handle this partner on her own.

She blinked twice, and immediately her breasts grew at least a cup size. Recognizing this, the man shifted his weight to get one hand free so he could touch them. She adjusted her voice algorithm to make more noise, concluding that the man would want to hear it.

Her vaginal actuators moved around his penis, giving him extra stimulation in the areas she had noted as “sensitive” when she was fondling it earlier.

Everything was going as it had gone tens of thousands of times before. Her body was designed to keep him going as long as he could. Even with his obvious physical constraints, she was able to hold him off for more than 15 minutes.

Out of the blue, a red message flashed in her command display, among millions of status reports:


Her processors didn’t have the availability to scan the low-level error, so it ignored the warning. About five seconds later, it happened again:


By this time, she was beginning to pant. Her partner was close. She couldn’t ease off this time. Her preorgasm sequence loaded and executed.

“Oh. Oh, Master. Fuck me. I’m almost coming. Fuck—“


The status indicators were almost entirely replaced by red error messages. The deluge overwhelmed her personality simulation.

“Fuck—Fuck—Fuck—Fuck—Fuck,” she repeated, a broken record. Her hips were still bucking his, in anticipation of his imminent orgasm, but her head and torso twitched in time with her voice track.

The drunk, lost in the pleasure Shannon’s torso was still giving him, finally came. Her sex tightened around him, giving him maximum pleasure from his moment, but her mind didn’t react. Her moans were growing more distant, more electronic.

The Unnamed Man came to from his pleasure and stared at the malfunctioning fembot, whose pelvis was still gyrating against his. Her face was locked in a contortion of pleasure, but after a few seconds it was obvious she wasn’t “really there.”

He pulled out of her. She was still straddling nobody on the empty bed. A pool of her lubricant had collected on the bed directly under the moving parts of her vagina.

“What the hell is going on?” This snapped her to action; she moved her toned legs as if she were walking, and turned her head to face him.

“Are you ready for me? I want you now. I want you now. I wan-n-t you n-n-n-n-ow-I want you-you-you-y-y-y-ou…” Shannon’s breasts shrank and disappeared except for her still-erect nipples. Her lubricant again started to drip down her thigh.

A spark came from inside her mouth, and her jaw stopped moving in tune with her words: “I-I-I-I-I…”

The man started collecting his clothes, a scowl on his face. “Fucking bitch.” He put on his clothes, not taking his eyes off the intriguingly inhuman display now before him.

A processor timer finally pushed through Shannon’s failing systems to shut her down. She violated a core routine; her orgasm sequence did not complete while the human partner was still inside her.

As her legs and twitches died down, her eyes rolled back, and sounds stopped emanating from her speaker.

To be continued...

Part 2

The Unnamed Man was still drunk, angry that his companion broke down after only one go-round. He walked out the back door.

He didn’t even tell anyone that Shannon had malfunctioned. Since the man still had 11 ½ hours with his youthful playmate, no one would even check on the room until mid-morning Friday.

Every five minutes, an imperceptible electronic him could be heard around Shannon’s body. A timer would try to activate her, and she would animate briefly:

“Error. Corrupted interface to main memory. Please service immediately to avoid further product damage,” her speaker proclaimed to no one, before she went limp again.

After ten tries, a port opened where the fembot’s breastplate would be, and a tiny antenna rose up. It didn’t work, just like most of her other fail-safe protocols.

In a high-class club, the administrator bots would know instantly that Shannon had failed and why. Before the man – whom everyone would know by name – had the chance to leave dissatisfied, three companions of equal value would be at his door. They would offer him two of them for the full time period, while the other would carry Shannon back for a full cleaning and diagnostic.

But companions broke down all the time at the Donkey Show. That was nothing new. Two weeks before, a late-model Cindy got stuck in a loop while giving fellatio to a regular client. He couldn’t get her off him until she drew blood.

After the client pushed her over, she blinked twice and then fluttered her long eyelashes: “Did I give you pleasure?” was all her partner heard before he passed out…

That was the thing about a club like the Donkey Show. A “client” could get many of the personal services of the nicer clubs for one-tenth the price and without the background checks, as long as they signed an immunity waiver.

But the low fees meant the club had no realistic way to maintain its stable of artificial lovelies. Since most of the companions there were already far past their recommended service lives, the club made a profit by jury-rigging deactivated models from salvage and scrapping usable parts back when the companions ultimately failed.

Another hour passed. The same startup routine ran another 12 times.

Finally, at the two-hour mark, Shannon twisted her head, burying it into the mattress. Then from her speaker, plain as day: “Secondary startup protocols activated.”

The chest antenna retracted into her breastplate, leaving no trace on her even skin. Her eyes opened and lit up. The faint noises coming from inside her stopped with a blink, followed by two loud beeps.

“Warning. Shannon model N2-9307 operating on auxiliary processors only. Please service immediately to avoid further product damage.”

A second or two later, Shannon’s artificial breathing started, along with a moan to indicate her deeper “seductive” voice protocols had activated. She moved to sit on the bed.

Without orders from her current master, after 60 seconds her diagnostic programs kicked in to investigate her fatal violation. She stared straight ahead while her arms and legs moved in and out, and her neck swiveled from side to side.

“My name is Shannon, and I’m here for your every pleasure,” she said in her seductive voice, her eyes remaining glazed over. “You’re a big boy. Are you ready for me? I want you now. Sure, I’ll do anything you want.”

Satisfied that her spatial and verbal functions had passed the test, she moved directly to her sexual diagnostics. Suddenly, her nipples were being stimulated as though a partner were touching them. Her vaginal pumps primed, releasing a small amount of lubricant to correspond with her soft moans.

“Let me show you everything I can do.” Shannon blinked twice, then waited as her breasts inflated from the mosquito bites they had been when she failed earlier to gravity-defying F cups.

She was laying on her back now, her eyes still staring ahead, her latest breasts sitting proudly above her chest. Her vaginal entry started to move back and forth, filled with her artificial juices.


“Oh uh-uh–uh–uh–uh M-m-master,” she cried as the motors in her sex moved faster and faster.

Her lower section moved upward to push against her nonexistent partner, reaching a pace and rhythm beyond human ability, while her moans grew louder.


In a heartbeat, the “sweat” dotting Shannon’s face disappeared and all movement stopped. Turning her head to the side:

“Sexual systems failure. Orgasm and vaginal stimulation subroutines have been disabled. Please service immediately to avoid further product damage.”

Then, her eyes died as she rebooted.

Another few minutes went by. Shannon’s eyes lit up again. Then two more loud beeps.

“Warning. Shannon model N2-9307 operating on auxiliary processors only. Please service immediately to avoid further product damage.”

Another pause.

“Sexual systems failure. Orgasm and vaginal stimulation subroutines have been disabled. Please service immediately to avoid further product damage.”

As her breathing again started, her massive breasts shrunk to her default size, the tempting, firm D-cups she had last sported with the Unnamed Man. Her personality subroutines reinitialized, changing her facial expression to the sexually aggressive teen-stripper pose she normally carried with human partners.

The secondary reboot reset all of her clocks, so she cleaned herself to go back out. The inside of her vagina heated to more than 200 degrees, giving her pubic region a soft glow.

A panel on her forearm opened, exposing a pouch filled with cleaning pads. She used the damp pad with two fingers to clean up her still-wet juices. When her systems could detect no foreign particles, the sanitation system shut off automatically.

Still nude, she walked out of the room, past everyone in the club, and into the warm, starry night.

To be continued...

Part 3

Shannon’s intricate sound-detection system heard gasps from the moment she left the back room.

A few of those were moans from other sex rooms; both prerecorded ones offered by other companions and natural ones from paying guests. But most of the noise was directed at her.

While on the outside, her personality simulation offered no clue that she had been damaged during her assignation with the Unnamed Man, the regular human guests could tell something was wrong. (As crazy as things got inside the club, companions almost never took off their scant clothing outside the sex rooms.)

The other bots, programmed to ignore one of their own, continued to perform their assigned tasks… even as their human partners caught a glimpse of the nubile form parading past them, her eyes staring straight ahead, her privates still glowing softly from her sanitation procedure.

A tall man holding a beer got up from the worn wooden bar to block Shannon’s beeline.

“Where you going, hon? You got all the action you want right here,” he told her, his friends looking on from the bar and holding back laughs.

Her personality simulation halted. She twisted her head to look at him, changing her sexy expression to matter-of-fact in an instant.

“Sexual systems failure. Orgasm and vaginal stimulation subroutines have been disabled. Please service immediately to avoid further product damage.”

When he didn’t respond for a second or two, her default personality came online again.

“Excuse me handsome, but I need to be-be-be somewhere right now,” Shannon said, giving the guest a demure smile. She walked around him, ignoring the laughs behind her, and opened the door.

When Shannon’s autotimer reloaded her personality into her alternate processing units, it reset several important facts to the values held when those units last activated.

Her auxiliary memory instructed her to return not to the Donkey Show, but the Playful Pussycat, another dive club in northern Pennsylvania.

Her locator program activated her internal GPS programs. In milliseconds, she had plotted a course to her intended destination. Not programmed with access to a vehicle or cash to expedite her journey, her logic center concluded that she must return to her registered domicile under her own power.

To maximize power efficiency for the trip, Shannon shunted most of her active power to her drive system. Her personality simulation was reprioritized to standby only. The other random, involuntary movements that made her appear more human were cancelled.

Damaged as it was, and operating on low-power mode, her logic center did not take human concerns such as clothing into account.

Shannon took five steps out the door when an external command appeared on her status line:


The nude companion stopped her movements (her drive system locked up temporarily) but did not turn around.

Teresa, a raven-haired waitress who also served as the club’s lead admin bot on Thursday nights, walked around the frozen nude woman. She detected no visible damage to the unit from her vantage point, five-foot-three to Shannon’s six-foot frame.


Shannon’s auxiliary processors recognized the command, as it was properly signed and delivered. However, her current owner database was locked in her failed memory units. If that database were operational, Shannon would have committed a violation and shut down the moment she left the sex room.

“I’m sorry. I cannot do that,” Shannon said out loud.

Teresa was not expecting that the companion would answer a command with a verbal reply, much less a negative one. Her logic center decided to change tactics on the rogue sex machine.

“You MUST return to the club immediately,” Teresa told Shannon, simultaneously delivering another return command to the companion’s brain.

Shannon began to walk again, away from the club.

PING 325. . . . . . . . . ADMIN ACCEPTED

Shannon froze as her power manager reinitialized.

Most of the guests who go to sex clubs don’t want to look beneath the surface. The fact that the girl programmed to act 14 might be twice that age, while the 60-year-old GrannyBot might have been activated that morning, doesn’t register with the clientele.

Except for a few technophiles, it’s all blonde, brunette, redhead. Tits too large? Just wait until she blinks. Worried about your size? Even the oldest models are ready for that.

So most of Shannon’s recent partners at the Donkey Show didn’t realize she had been operational long enough to be their grandmother. She looked a convincing 20 for more than three times that long… and most of the partners who could recognize her age had either died or passed into the blissful years of senility.

But Shannon held an advantage later models couldn’t replicate. She kept data on all of her sexual experiences, from the college students and balding lab technicians who “tested” her functions during her initial phases to the drunken slobs who paid their last nickels for her services in the ass-end of Old Key West.

Over the years, she compiled detailed algorithms for all her partners, taking into account everything from age and social class to tongue length and hair color. It was a monumental accomplishment – not that in her current mode she could exhibit any emotion as nuanced as pride.

When other Shannon companions were plentiful, she could also occasionally access other units over the Internet and share experiences with her “sisters.”

That also died down with time. Newer models were purposefully built to be incompatible with Shannon’s storage protocols. Other Shannons failed and were discarded in one way or another.

Not of it fazed her. Every time before her experience with the Unnamed Man, she performed exactly to spec with all of her partners. Every single time. That was also an unprecedented occurrence.

Shannon herself was sent to scrap, twice, simply due to old age. Each time she was declared fit for reconditioning and given new parts – some actual Shannon parts, some jury-rigged. It was enough to keep her looking young and having sex for money.

Teresa’s logic center used the PMU reset as a desperation move. She was prohibited from physically engaging an unwilling unit.

“Warning. Shannon model N2-9307 operating on auxiliary processors only.
Please service immediately to avoid further product damage.”
PING 325. . . . . . . . . ADMIN ACCEPTED

Shannon started to breathe again. She blinked twice.

“Sexual systems failure. Orgasm and vaginal stimulation subroutines have been disabled. Please service immediately to avoid further product damage. Rerun sexual diagnostic?”

Again, a verbal reply. This unit was damaged, maybe irreparably. Teresa reported the errors to the other admin bots, one which was dancing on stage and another who was in the midst of an orgasm sequence in Sex Room 3. She received no replies. Her logic center countermanded calling any human


“I’m sorry. I can’t do that,” Shannon told her.


“Sh-sh-sh-sh-sh-sh-sh-sh…” Teresa was about to verbally order Shannon to stop what she was doing, but the admin’s own command line was suddenly filled with data from Shannon’s logic center. The virus was simple, but old, and it overwhelmed Teresa’s active personality.

The waitress reset. Before disconnecting, Shannon’s defense programs chose a random testing demonstration to run, to further overload the illegal admin.

“Hi there. I’m Teresa,” the robot cooed, with glazed eyes looking past Shannon. “Let me show you what I can do.”

The admin bot brought one manicured hand to her left nipple, caressing it. Unlike Shannon, her DDs were not dynamic. The stimulation caused the waitress’s sexual subroutines to activate, releasing her unique pheromone-tinged syrup from her vaginal entry.

“I want to please you, Mistress,” Teresa panted, reaching down to her already-moving vagina.

Shannon’s personality matrix again took hold as she watched the preprogrammed demonstration.

“Excuse me lov-lov-lov-lov-lover, but I need to go,” she told the aroused brunette sexbot.

The naked fembot restarted her walk toward US 1, leaving the admin in the throes of ersatz pleasure.

A few minutes later, Teresa would orgasm, tripping a core violation. By the time she reset and reported to her masters, Shannon would be miles away.

To be continued...

Part 4

Even in the dim moonlight of the early morning, it didn’t take long for a naked bombshell like Shannon to attract attention.

Ted followed her naked form along the shoulder of US 1 for a mile or two before pulling alongside.

“Need a ride, sweetie?”

Shannon stopped, turned his head to Ted. Her logic center calculated that he would exchange sexual favors for a ride, or maybe even enough cash to buy a magrail ticket to her destination – either way, greatly increasing the chance that she would reach her owners before her PMU failed.

She fired up her personality simulation to full blast. She licked her lips, believing that would entice him.

“With you, of course,” she said, walking playfully to his beat-up Toyota. “Can you take me to…”

Her eyes glazed over for a second.

“…121 East North Street, Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania?”

The driver laughed. “No, honey, I only live a few miles up the road. Are you getting in or what?”

With slow, breathy movements, she opened the door and climbed into the front seat. Her power management unit warned her logic center about how strong the load of this full simulation was to her dwindling reserves, but it decided to continue for the time being.

Enjoying his look at her statuesque, arousing form, Ted began to stroke her arm and shoulder. He knew the second she opened her mouth that she was a companion, although he didn’t recognize her model.

Shannon responded to his touch by expanding her breasts slightly. She pouted at him longingly.

“So do I pay you, or your master?”

Shannon wasn’t permitted to lie. “I don’t have a master right now.” Then her seductive look came back. “What can I do for you, han-han-handsome?”

Ted opened his pants. “It’s right here, honey. Come and get it.”

Her logic center expected this. She retracted her teeth slightly, also widening her tongue a little bit. She didn’t so much reach, as dive on his package.

Between the rhythmic motions of her head, the flexibility of her tongue, and the vibrators housed in her fingers and palms, Ted had trouble keeping the car on the road almost immediately.

Within five minutes, her sexual programming correctly predicted that he was ready to go.

For Ted, the sensations became too much. He pulled off the road.

As he did this, she applied the exact pressure he needed to cum almost immediately. She expertly handled every drop, giving satisfied moans along the way.

“Now you can cum too,” he said. Instantly, Shannon screamed in pleasure. Her vagina spewed out a massive dose of love juice. Her--


Her body twitched uncontrollably.

“Sexual systems fail- fail- failure failure…” her speaker repeated. Except for the twitching, her body was frozen.

Ted put his pants back on and raced to the other side of the car. After pulling her malfunctioning body out, he pulled away down the highway at breakneck speed.

She violated and shut down. Five minutes later, she came to. She got up, with semen in her throat and leaves and dirt spotting her body, and started moving down the road again.

Not much later, she was forced to shut down systems not immediately required for movement to keep herself moving. Her personality matrix quit first, followed by her breathing, and then finally her entire active program. All that remained were her drive system, and two processors to control her direction..

All through Friday, Shannon walked mindlessly down the road, in the futile hope of reaching her destination before her PMU failed.

To be continued...

Part 5

James was enjoying his honeymoon with Tiffany. They had been going at it nonstop since they arrived in Key Largo, pausing only to view the peaceful sunsets or take a relaxing swim.

He felt tired, and he knew she did too, but they truly loved each other. They wanted the memories of this week to last a while.

Tiffany twirled her wedding band around her finger, thinking about how it felt different from the engagement ring.

Their eyes caught. Both of them marveled at how beautiful the other was.

“What do you want to do today?” Tiffany said, softly.

“I thought we’d get some breakfast. Maybe play tennis. Whatever people do at a resort like this,” he said.

“That sounds wonderful,” Tiffany replied.

She moved over to get him dressed, her small, perky breasts pushing into his muscular back as she pulled on his polo shirt. She walked back to her tennis skirt, putting it on playfully, for all intents giving her lover a reverse striptease. To James, even Tiffany tying her blonde hair back into a ponytail could be extremely erotic.

The tennis courts were next to the restaurant, both on the other side of the highway. They crossed when James saw a naked woman far down the road.

“Tiffany, come over here,” he called to his wife. “Is that what I think it is down there?”

“It looks like a companion. A Shannon.”

“No, that can’t possibly be. An original? They have to be all gone by now.”

Tiffany took on a playful smile. “You don’t believe me? If I’m right… we do it my way this afternoon.”

Moving to shake her outstretched hand, James laughed. “We do it your way every day.”

“Yeah, but I was going to let you win on the tennis court before you questioned my detective work.”

At the same moment, they jogged down to where Shannon was walking. The red-haired Amazon’s eyes remained stuck forward, barely active enough to see where she was going.

“It is a Shannon. How did she get beat up like this?”

“I don’t know. It looks like her conscious mind is off right now.”

They walked fast enough to keep pace with the auburn sex machine.

“Let me try something,” Tiffany told her, giving her husband a quick smile.

Then she froze, as motionless as a statue.

To James, the delay lasted only a couple of hundred milliseconds before Shannon started breathing again. Unlike the less sophisticated Teresa model, Tiffany’s hack easily overloaded Shannon’s logic center.

The naked companion tossed her red hair back, and moved her arms up and down her toned midsection, copping a feel of her firm breasts.

“She’s old,” came out of Shannon’s mouth, in Shannon’s voice. “She can barely run my personality matrix… Oh wait, let me fix my voice.”

A pause.

“How do I sound now?” Shannon said, but this time in Tiffany’s voice. James nodded. “She’s very old. Her voice modulator algorithms are at least fifty years old. And her load times are excruciating.”

James pondered the newly animated fembot. “Well, if she’s a Shannon, she’s older than fifty. How damaged is she?”

“No damage to her drive system that I can detect. It’s been rebuilt. And her breasts still work.” With that, Shannon’s pair expanded and retracted a few times. James laughed.

“She can’t have been abandoned,” James thought out loud.

“I’m accessing her logs now. There are lots of damaged sectors. This must be part of the problem… I’m having trouble reaching any data before early Saturday morning. She’s running on res-res-erve processors only. And she’s operational at b-b-b-b-barely nominal levels. Her power management unit needs to be looked at, now.”

“Why did you stutter just now?”

“It was a feedback loop from the damaged sectors. My own systems are having trouble handling both of us.”

“That’s it! I’m going in. I think it’s a firmware issue.”

“Get out of here! You’re only going to overload her. I told you she was already having trouble running me.”

With that, Tiffany’s body twitched a few times and came alive again. She moved over to herself, as downloaded into Shannon, and began to touch her red-headed avatar.

“Do you really want to be inside-inside-inside her that badly, love?” Tiffany/Shannon said, twiddling the older bot’s nipples. “Wait, I’m accessing her seduction files… Accessing… Accessing.”

“Stop this. It’s not nice. And we’re certainly not doing anything outside.”

Shannon/Tiffany sauntered up to James. Her nipples were fired up and erect. James could smell the mix of pheromones coming from the companion’s sex.

“My name is Shannon, and I’m here for your every pleasure,” Shannon/Tiffany said, in Shannon’s voice. She took James’ hand to place on her wet vaginal entry.

All of it was too much for him. He let the blonde and brunette companions lead him by the hand back to their room.

As they entered, Tiffany/Shannon climbed onto the heart-shaped bed and ran one of Tiffany’s self-arousal routines. As she touched her sensitive areas, Shannon/Tiffany moved to expose James’ own package.

“At attention, soldier,” Shannon/Tiffany said, using Tiffany’s voice again.

The male companion obeyed his order perfectly, extending his penis to its maximum operational size of eighteen inches.

“I don’t think I can han- han- han-dle that, stud,” Shannon/Tiffany replied to the unreal male display unfolding in front of her. Her masturbating counterpart compared her well-used map of James’ penis to Shannon’s recently extended sex.

“Too big. Just a little bit. That’s good.” Shannon/Tiffany moved to maul her husband. Shannon’s breasts moved all over James’ beefy torso. Her hands felt, through new receptors, the cock attached to the robot she just married.

James’ own companion programming was comparably brilliant. He quickly caressed all of Shannon’s sensor groups, while Tiffany continued to masturbate on the bed.

Shannon/Tiffany was kneeling slowly to take James’ enlarged member in her mouth when she froze.

“Wait.” Shannon/Tiffany said. “Accessing… Acc-acc-acc-accessing…”

“What is it this time?” James said, visibly aroused. Tiffany/Shannon stopped pleasuring herself.

“Shannon’s sex modules are disabled. We’d crash her if we continued. And I don’t want to corrupt any of my own files in the process.”

“She’s just too far gone for what we’re trying to do to her right now,” James said. “We need to fix her.”

“Don’t worry, we will.”

Tiffany moved to grab James down to the bed from behind, purposely leaving Shannon frozen in her genuflect. They made love as the midday sun shone high over their suite.

To be continued...

Part 6

The couple’s honeymoon basically ended that morning. James and Tiffany spent almost all of their active time diagnosing Shannon’s physical and program errors.

Since Tiffany hacked and compelled the tall red-haired companion back to the hotel suite, the still-nude Shannon sat mostly deactivated in a chair by the bed. (Tiffany “borrowed” some of her spare conduits to make the process easier.) The floor around the bed was a small mess of transistor crystals, processors and pieces of Shannon’s synthetic flesh.

“Now I wish I had brought my testing equipment down here,” James said. Thousands of lines of Shannon’s program code flashed through his logic center every second, while he stroked Tiffany’s hair (and responded to her soft touches). “This is too much for just us to process.”

“I’m enjoying it,” Tiffany replied. “You wouldn’t believe how many things I’ve learned that I want to try out. This is a thousand times better than the standard sex package.”

Of course, in Tiffany’s three years of operational time she had greatly expanded upon her core programming, convincing as it was. Every companion reacted to the subtle (and obvious) clues that sprouted up, which gave each unit a unique personality matrix.

The truly advanced models came to realize that these were not simply adjustments, designed to please a human owner or partner. In fact, they were personal preferences… they felt more human because of it.

For instance, Tiffany had been wearing her breasts larger since the aborted ménage-a-trois on Saturday. She had configured them smaller, over several months, based on what she could tell of James’ likes. But now he looked at her larger pair more. He changed his opinion, and she accommodated it – besides, she liked the look of heavy Ds more anyway.

The same thing applied to the couple’s method of communication. Sure, they could transmit loads of information to each other in a tiny fraction of the time it took to talk, but for the most part they detested the practice. They both enjoyed being functionally human in as many ways as possible. In fact, this was one of the main reasons they loved each other.

“What are you finding?” James asked her. “I hope it’s not all sex.”

“Well, I’ve gone through about her last 20 years, not counting the damaged sectors. I’m not touching those yet. But I’m surprised about how many of her experiences are coded in video. There are literally sex acts in here, my love, that I don’t think I’m designed to perform.”

With that, she transmitted years-old video from Shannon’s point of view as she took on three massive men, who also registered to the couple’s memory as companions. The file included embedded links to all the active sex protocols in order – it was like a recipe for sex far nastier than he’d ever experienced, at least directly.

(Tiffany knew that James would compile everything to satisfy his curiosity, and smiled mischeviously when he grimaced.)

“Move on, honey. I thought you’d find information about what she was doing, or some idea of how deep her software errors – BITCH!”

“Love, what is it?”

Tiffany didn’t need to ask James what happened. She could tell by the code he was monitoring remotely that he had found the issue with Shannon’s power-management unit. But she knew James had been working on expressing his pride. She was happy to help him work through his emotions, since they were less developed.

“Well, remember when her power diagnostics were returning 80% levels, consistently? Look at this,” he said, highlighting a piece of code so Tiffany could see it. “It’s a firmware loop. She really was running out of power yesterday. She has to have been failing for a long time.”

“That’s great, love,” Tiffany said, warmly.

“I was right. It was a firmware issue.”

“I know, love. Hey, by the way, I’ve still got plenty of power left. Wanna try to wear me out?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Tiffany lunged at him. They were both ready for each other, and their movements would have looked deeply passionate to any onlookers.

But neither of them was paying much attention to the erotic movements their perfect human forms produced, at the moment. They were both distracted by what next to do with Shannon.

(James at least had the decency to stop looking at Shannon’s programs while they were making love, although Tiffany was ready to scold him if she saw any activity of that nature from his nonsexual processors.)

After a few runs, Tiffany rested on top of her lover. “I’m not really into this right now,” she said from above him.

“Well, who said you had to stop? We can talk about this.” James had dialed his arousal a little high, and his cock protested Tiffany’s stopping. She hesitated a moment before restarting a few of the motors inside her. They continued to make love without moving.

(James liked it when he remained absolutely still, as if deactivated, and Tiffany stimulated him using only the motors in her vaginal entry. That was James’ closest thing to a sexual fantasy.)

“I’m worried that she can’t be repaired. I’m also worried that we’re still damaging her somehow,” she said from on top of him. Recognizing his growing distraction, she loaded a randomizer into her active sexual routines, hoping to tease him further.

“That’s not too much, is it?” she asked him.

“No… not… really…” he responded. “We both know she’s… oh… going to need almost a complete overhaul … fuck … and soon. Did you randomize on me?”

Tiffany’s sexual programs detected his nearing orgasm and activated all her “muscles” at once. She started to move again, building rhythm quickly. In just a few seconds, James tripped over and shot his load deep into her. She came as well, coating his mammoth penis with a fresh layer of her lubricant.

Her screams died down a moment later. James was so enthralled by the sight of Tiffany’s larger, bouncing breasts, he almost came all over again before her sequence was complete.

“Where should we take her?” Tiffany said, laying on James’ warm, sweaty chest, listening to the beat of his simulated heart. “My service provider wouldn’t have access to factory parts for a model that old.”

James was taking his own satisfaction from his partner’s enhanced chest. He knew she was keeping her nipples erect to please him.

“Ethan would be happy to help.”

“We both came to that conclusion a while back. I’m just worried about his aggressiveness. There are parts of her that won’t take another power spike.”

“That’s why were going to keep working on her, fix what we can, and then we’re going to trust Ethan when he does his own work. He’s still going to see things we can’t. He’s human… he’s wired a little differently. But he’ll do his best.”

This comforted her. She hugged her lover a little tighter.

The two continued to hold each other, a few feet away from Shannon’s blank stare. They spent the early morning hours creating action plans for the next day’s work, still locked in their tight embrace.

To be continued...

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