Mistress Mira 2

[Karel]

Immediately, the seated figure on the right came to life. The eyes blinked, and the hands came up from its lap. As Natalya’s right hand let go of the other robot’s left, it fell to the side. Natalya looked down at the motion, and delicately picked up the hand and replaced it, stroking it touchingly with (h)er fingers. (S)he reached back and delicately unplugged (h)erself. Then (s)he stood up. The other robot remained perfectly still, staring dully ahead.

Natalya turned around to face Mira. Upon seeing (h)er master, (h)er completely blank expression lit up into a wildly exagerrated smile. “Hel·lo, Mi·ra!” it said in a honey-sweet voice.

“Slave protocol,” said Mira, not even bothering to look up.

Unperturbed, the robot repeated “Hel·lo, Mas·ter!”

“Natalya, prepare an appetizer,” barked fake Mira, automatically transmitting algorithms of the expected meal plan.

“Yes, Mi·ra,” answered the robot, and walked into the kitchen, a big toothy smile still on its face. Placing the gynoids in slave mode automatically plastered outrageous grins on their faces, no matter what was being done to them.

Mira poked Natalya’s butt as (s)he passed by, oblivious, and smirked. Natalya’s face was based on Zia Rajstheumma, an inexplicably popular, immensely stuck-up bitch, whose clique of friends had made Mira’s life miserable before The Fall, in high school and college. In The Fall, Mira had cut off Zia’s head with a pair of scissors. It was not a memory she liked to revisit. But now, afterward, seeing that same likeness slaving over a stove in her own kitchen, she could feel nothing but pleasure.

She walked up behind Natalya, who was bent slightly over the stove, starting to prepare a white sauce, and slipped a hand down the small of (h)er back, and into (h)er pants. “Oh, Natalya,” she asked wistfully, soft and sarcastic, leaning her head against the android’s cheek, “How was your week, Natalya? Hmm? Was it okay?”

Natalya, still smiling: “It Was Ex·cel·lent, Mas·ter.”

“Yeah?” She giggled a bit, loosening up. Her fingers stroked above and beneath Natalya’s underpants. “And how did Mira here treat you?” she asked. Fake Mira had come over and joined in, running (h)er holographic fingers around Natalya’s neck, massaging it. Natalya’s skin sensors were linked in to the computer system, so it could feel the affected touch, but in slave mode it made no response.

“She Was Ver·y Dil·ig·ent And Ef·fi·cient, Mas·ter.”

“Yeah?” answered Mira, her brow crossing a bit. Of course, it had been a different simulated Mira two days ago.

“Have you been drinking?” asked fake Mira.

Mira frowned and lifted her head. “I grabbed a martini with the guys, at Pau’s.” She looked back at Natalya. “Natalya, loosen up. Naturalistic.”

Immediately, Natalya closed (h)er eyes and shuddered, inhaling deeply. It arched back as Mira rubbed her hand down its spine, and lifted (h)er right hand, weakly, to brush away the holographic fingers around its neck, while its left frantically stirred the pot. HoloMira giggled. Mira smiled and ran a hand across Natalya’s breasts.

“Should we let you work, Natalya?”

“As You Wish, Mas·ter,” answered Natalya, its eyes blinking rapidly.

“Mistress,” said Mira, softly. She cupped Natalya’s left breast in her hand. “Call me Mistress Mira.”

“Mis·tress Mi·ra.”

Mira giggled, clapped her hands, and gave the android a peck on the cheek. “O-okay,” she said, “Let’s leave you alone to work. Let’s take your sweater off, here, so you don’t get sauce on it.” She reached around and took the sweater by the shoulders, and Natalya offered one arm, then the other, as she gingerly undressed the robot. Natalya’s shirt was tight against the body, revealing just a bit of cleavage; (h)er plump breasts jiggled slightly as (s)he stirred the sauce. “Let’s have some drinks,” shouted Mira, as the sweater slipped off Natalya’s right wrist.

Instantly, a virtual martini appeared in HoloMira’s right hand. It lifted it to its mouth, and took a sip, and as (s)he did, lifted (h)er other hand, and snapped (h)er fingers.

[ehy]

What is "(h)er" supposed to mean? I would assume "(S)he" is supposed to indicate that the person being referred to might be either female or male, although that is a unique usage to begin with, but "(h)er" is not a parallel construction.

Your story would be much easier to read if you didn't invent your own unexplained grammar. It's very distracting.

[Karel]

Lol, but it wouldn't be quite so much fun to write! I alternated "(s)he" with "it" because the artificial women don't actually have any gender at all; they're just machines. Writing "she" would just be wrong, but writing "it" all the time would be even more confusing, and not very sexy.

[Propman]

Most people here, however, write 'she', and besides (s)he says somewhat that the robot is hermahphroditic.

[Karel]

Well, maybe. I didn't want them to read like hermaphrodites. I tried to describe them as female. Sorry if that undercut it. But really, they aren't female, so I think using "she" is out of place. They have no gender.

[Propman]

Hey, it's your story! But maybe if you write it in quote marks like "She" "the girl and so on, it would be better. just a suggestion

[Karel]

Lol, no man. They're not "shes," and they're not girls, or women. They're machines that look like girls and act like "shes." For me, that's the reality of the thing.

[confusitron!]

Lol, no man. They're not "shes," and they're not girls, or women. They're machines that look like girls and act like "shes." For me, that's the reality of the thing.

But "(s)he" does not imply "it". "(S)he" implies that the "S" is optional, and that the specimens are of ambiguous (equally masculine/feminine), not neutral, gender. If you're really that opposed to writing she, then you might consider writing "she" with quotations. You don't write "telephone" if you mean "refrigerator", and then explain that you just don't like using the word refrigerator.