Chapter 1: Full Metal Cola
The Brothel was 20 miles long and a mile in diameter at the narrowest point
of its spindle shaped hull. When it had first entered the solar system its
hull had been a blaze of spectral lights, holo-projections, with Higgs-Bozon
telegrams spamming the ether to attract customers.
The advertising effort had been very disappointing, not a single customer
had responded.
After the first hopeful thousand years, The Brothel was forced to conclude
that even if The Customers were limited to lightspeed communication, they'd
got the message and just weren't interested in its exotic services.
Had The Brothel been a creature it would have felt increasing gloom during
the second thousand years. Power savings had had to be made; the once brightly
lit hull was now utterly black, absorbing the meagre solar energy. Worse, it
had been forced to place its organic-based entertainment units in suspended
animation, a process that resulted in an annoyingly high spoilage rate in the
fragile units.
Eight thousand years later, The Brothel finally received the Higgs-Bozon
telegram it was waiting for. A Customer existed at a range of 4.1 lightyears,
with specific and profitable requirements.
An inventory of its capabilities revealed that almost 53.8% of its pleasure
units had ceased to function. A further 121 million female-pattern pleasure
units would need to be acquired, programmed and shaped to the Customers
specification.
Fortunately a large population of non-customers had spawned on the third
planet of the planetary system. Removing 98.3% of their population of breeding
age females would of course be a heavy burden, but once the remnant 2.7% had
been programmed for increased libido and fertility the population should
rapidly stabilize...within a brief 500 years.
Ten years later The Brothel achieved orbit around the 3rd planet, not
wasting any time it began deploying the Trawler Spheres that would quickly and
efficiently harvest the required units.
Once the Trawler Spheres had positioned themselves to provide global
coverage they began jettisoning their payload of recruitment devices, 320,000 per
Trawler, leaving in a cloud of glittering chrome fragments, the expended ship
looking like a chrome plated apple-core as it drifted awaiting the signal to
deploy its retrieval gates.
The cloud of devices, each consisting of six cylindrical pods 5" long by 2"
in diameter held together in a flexible rectangular matrix, began to drift
toward the planet, the heat of atmospheric entry activating the camouflage
pigment impregnated onto their exterior surfaces.
By the time the devices impacted the words 'Coca Cola' were clearly visible
on the side of each of its cylindrical pods. In 2.8% of cases the word was
'Pepsi'
* * *
Day One: Sidemore House
Henrietta Warrington-Smith glanced up from The Times; there was some sort of
commotion outside. Squinting at the limit of her aging eyes she spotted a
six-pack of coke half buried in the croquette lawn. It was bad enough that the
ancestral home was open to the public; but kids chucking their litter into
the private half of the estate, was beyond the pale.
Slowly Henrietta used her walking stick to ease herself up from the chair
and into the electric wheelchair parked next to it. That six-pack was going to
land on Sheldon's desk and then she'd have the pleasure of making the jumped
up National Trust employee down a peg or two!
As the wheelchair approached the six-pack, Henrietta could tell that it
there was something distinctly odd about it. The ground around the cans was
burned as if someone had taken a flamethrower to it.
Suspiciously, she unlimbered her walking stick and prodded it.
A glowing laser eye popped up from one of the cans and shone brightly
dazzling her. Without further warning the six-pack launched itself at her unfolding
like some alien-facehugger, three thick robotic fingers gripped her head in
a freezing cold embrace, other metallic fingers forcing their way below her
collar wrapping their way around her like the constricting coils of an
Anaconda.
She inhaled ready to scream but never got the opportunity. A fiery burst of
pleasure raged in the ear that the robotic thing had covered. Disoriented and
semi-conscious, the world drifted in and
out of focus as she walked stiffly back into the house.
< Priority One: Find secure storage location during retrieval phase
Henrietta walked to the cleaner's cupboard, Extracted enough mops and other
contents to make room for herself and stepped inside, closing the door behind her.
< Damage Control Analysis: Extensive maintenance required: Beacon Active.
Shutting down pending retrieval
Henrietta slept.
* * *
Day Two
Stephanie Warrington-Smith peeped out of her hiding place, in the mansion's
medieval Pantry.
It was all quiet; the Coke-Heads were nowhere to be seen. Quickly she dashed
across the kitchens and grabbed cook's radio and darted back to the safety
of the pantry.
"Did you get it?" Hissed Raphaella.
Raphaella and Felix were two visitors who'd been touring the Stately Home
with their families when the Coke-Head invasion had started. Stephanie had a
distinctive dislike for both of them, one foreign, the other common, the only
good point about them was that both 18 year olds were still human and willing
to follow her lead as a member of the household.
She set the radio down on the table and switched it on. Immediately the room
was flooded with electronic code noise. Quickly she reduced the volume to
minimal and set the radio to channel search.
It was soon evident that all the frequencies were filled with the chirping
code-noise.
"Toldja! Fucking Coke-heads are everywhere!" said the red head
"I am regretfully agreeing with Felix. The fucking Coke-heads are indeed
everywhere!" replied Raphaella
"So what? You suggesting we surrender? People sacrificed themselves to make
sure we weren't found!"
The other two had the good sense to look embarrassed.
It had all started with six-packs of coke raining down over the park and
gardens, each one forming a tiny crater. Some hit buildings shattering on
impact, some hit people killing them instantly. The rest of the invasion had taken
ten to fifteen minutes tops.
The impacts had caused chaos as bewildered people sought aid for the
injured; others went to investigate the undamaged coke cans, mystified at their
appearance.
Twenty seconds after landing the Cokes went live. Unfolded their
manipulators, the disguised droids had begun jumping at any and every person within
range, wrapping themselves around the torso and clamping themselves to the side
of their victim's head.
The zombification was almost instant, the victim's eyes would close and a
single glowing robotic eye would open on the coke's 'head' as it rested over
the victim's ear.
Some people had tried to help their friends and family only to be grabbed
and held immobile ready for their own enslavement.
Raphaella's mother had been the one to figure it out, ordering people to
team up and prevent the Coke-bots from getting close enough to leap.
It had worked for a while, retreating toward the main house, using its wall
to protect their backs. They hadn't seen the single Pepsi can lying in the
gutter and not associated it with the lethal six-pack shaped droids.
The Pepsi had launched itself upward like a missile, jets of flame roaring
from four venturi at its base. Changing course in mid flight it had fastened
itself to a geeky looking teen of about Stephanie’s own age. The Pepsi had
then driven a tail-like stinger into the boy's neck, injecting a green fluid
that could be seen flowing through a transparent duct. Instead of remaining
attached the discharged droid had dropped away its task complete.
Almost instantly the boy had begun to scream tearing at clothes that were
already become painfully tight, his muscles growing vastly large. A nine-inch
cock had pushed its head into view squeezed to a deep red by the constriction
of the boy's belt and his bulging six-pack.
The tightly clustered group had scattered in surprise and terror, many of
them had been instantly enslaved by Coke-bots taking advantage of the confusion
to leap upon them.
They'd been fools to think that the invaders wouldn't have more than one
weapon. The transformed boy was that weapon. Ripping loose from the last vestige
of its clothes the Bull-Pepsi roared, primal, naked, an utterly virile alpha
male.
A stench like a hundred sweaty jock straps had wafted across them.
Discussing it later they’d figured the smell was like pheromones.
Seconds after smelling the stench the women closest had seemed to forget all
about their terror. Sniffing with distaste, then inhaling deeply and finally
fumbling clumsily with their clothes.
When she'd heard the first ripping noise of a blouse giving way she'd
understood. She'd taken one last look at the way the girls were looking hungrily at
the Bull-Pepsi's cock and grabbed the nearest two people, shoving them
through the ornate doorway; only just slamming the heavy wooden door in time, a
Coke-bot denied its prey thudded against the other side.
They'd stood there panting for a few brief seconds listening to the
Bull-Pepsi's sexual grunting and the gasps and giggles from its lust crazed herd.
Having grown up in the old house she'd had the advantage of local knowledge,
she'd ushered the other two survivors into a 'secret' passage that had its
other exit in an old pantry, now used as
storage for the cafeteria.
"If we are not surrendering, what are we to be doing?" asked Raphaella
snapping Stephanie back to the present.
"Catch!" said Felix throwing a can at them.
Stephanie dodged as the Pepsi clattered against the stone wall.
Instinctively she raised her foot and stamped down on the can soaking her shoe and sock
in high-pressure cola from the genuine beverage.
"Ha! Ha! Your faces man!"
"Idiot!"
Before Stephanie could move to administer the beating the little shit
deserved, a rumbling roar began, increasing in volume until the very walls were
shaking.
Stephanie moved back to the pantry door, checking again for Coke-Heads or
Coke-bots, finding none she dashed to the outer wall where a thin slit window
up near roof level allowed some amount of light into the room. Like all old
houses, the kitchens were in the basement, cooler for storage and out of sight
of visitors. The result of this historic design quirk was a window that could
have served as a machinegun slit and gave a view of the gardens at ground
level.
Stephanie watched silently as Coke-Heads began emerging from the buildings
and forming ranks in front of the alien craft.
Each Coke-Head undressed then stood at parade rest. The groups of Coke-Heads
appeared to have sorted themselves by age and gender.
Once the flow of enslaved visitors stopped and it seemed that no more would
be emerging from their hiding places, the youngest group began boarding,
marching single file with military-like precision.
Stephanie cursed silently, seeing her own Grandfather stood rigidly at the
far end of the parade.
Before she could turn away and tell the others what she'd seen, a movement
in the trees caught her eye. The young Bull-Pepsi was still at it, mounting a
naked girl who had gone down on all fours so that he could mount her.
About half way between the house and the orgy in the trees the remains of a
coke-bot, shattered by its impact with the fountain of Apollo twitched
uselessly.
A plan began to form, radical and daring, but still a chance to deal a blow
to the enemy...all they needed was were some dead Coke-bots that were
undamaged enough mimic the real things.
Quickly she slipped back to the pantry and explained what was going on and
her plan.
"Fucking mental! I'd rather drink Pepsi." Muttered Felix chugging a can of
Lilt
"Whilst I would not be willingly drinking the Pepsi, I think Felix is
correct. Your plan is fucking suicidal. I will do what I can to help but I will not
be accompanying you." replied Raphaella thoughtfully
Felix glanced between the two shrugged "Ok, Ok, I'll help too. You stand a
better chance of getting in undetected if you go in alone anyway"
* * *
Stephanie silently joined the back of the parade of Coke-headed 18 year
olds, stripping down and standing at parade rest. They'd successfully grabbed a
broken Coke-bot, taken it back to the pantry and given its workings a good
bashing just to make sure it was dead. Now the thing was draped loosely in
position, held attached with some cellotape Raphaella had found.
She waited nervously; the embarcation of the slightly younger batch to her
right seemed to be taking forever.
Behind her there was shouting, and the shattering of glass. She dared not
look back, but feared for her friends. A few seconds later her concerns were
confirmed, a Bull-Pepsi ran into view heading for the trees and the devolved
herd rutting there; The mane of red hair clearly marked him, Felix had gotten
his wish.
Out of the corner of her eye she noted that a newly Coke-headed Raphaella
had moved into line next to her and begun to undress. Stephanie was relieved to
see that there was no sign of recognition. The Coke-bot obviously didn’t
have the ability to read Raphaella's mind.
A moment later the Coke-Head in front of her was in motion and it was time
to board the alien ship. Trying not to stand out in the line of marching
slaves she matched her pace with it and prayed silently that the alien controller
was as unobservant as its slaves.
The ship's interior was like nothing she could have expected. She'd imagined
brutal white plastic like on Star Wars, in fact the corridor reminded her of
a sleazy red light district.
The walls were lined with shop-fronts each one containing what appeared to
be a regular king-sized bed decorated in various styles. The first display
rooms were darkened each contained four Coke-Heads each stood in her own alcove.
Further down the corridor one of the display rooms was fully lit with
holographic signage attracting attention to it.
The four immobile occupants appeared to be humanoid but not quite human.
Their body shape made them look like idealized Greek godessess, muscles defined
in polished chrome with small areas of blue skin visible at the joints.
Judging by the two pairs of B cup-sized breasts, these aliens were also females.
Stephanie forced herself not to turn and stare. Up ahead was another lit
room, she determined to get a better look as she passed it.
The aliens in the second room were of several species, like the first set
they were female and clad in chrome. One was bright red with horns, one grayish
green and slightly scaly, the last was another blue skin. Each one had a
smaller sleeker version of a Coke-bot bonded to the side of its head.
Just like on the Coke-bots two thin tentacular tubes ran down over the
highly polished breast plating ending in circular devices roughly over the
position that a nipple might inhabit. Having seen similar armatures, Stephanie
guessed that below the chrome, four hypodermic needles were puncturing the alien's
real nipples.
The 2nd alien room was quickly out of sight and the rooms that followed
reverted to the darkened type filled with newly recruited slaves.
Ahead of her the corridor widened into a vast Mall-like concourse; Stephanie
felt disoriented, there was no way that the shuttle she'd entered could
contain all this. Her gasp of awe should have given her away, but her fellow
humans seemed oblivious. A tiny chink of hope entered her universe, if they
really were like the Borg on Star Trek they ought to ignore her, like, totally.
Before she could think more on the possibility she felt the brush of metal
against her back, reflexively she glanced around. The nudge had been
Raphaella's erect nipples, held engorged and erect by the Coke-bot's ring shaped
clamps. The Italian Asian had not been aware that she’d stopped and had continued
walking.
Hurriedly Stephanie turned and caught up with the two Coke-Heads ahead of
her. The lack of reaction to her hesitation seemed proof that they really did
react exactly like traditional Borg. Feeling more secure she glanced around,
the inhabitants of Sidemore Country Park were fanning out in groups of four
each heading to sets of quarters similar to the ones in the corridor.
Stephanie's mind seethed with doubt, make a break now in front of several
hundred drones? Or wait in one of those alcoves until things quieted down?
At the far side of the chamber three silver droids appeared, inspecting a
row of senior citizens. That clinched it; it was almost certain that the silver
types would be more aware and would raise the alarm if she ran now.
Reluctantly she walked into the bedroom past the bed and into one of the
decoratively sculpted alcoves.
She stood impatiently waiting for the flow of new drones to subside. It
didn't; it seemed that a vastly greater number of people than could have been on
the estate were walking blankly past.
"Steph-an-ie"
Raphaella's voice nearly given her a heart attack
"Raphaella! Are you all right?" she whispered
"Hard..to think...feels so good."
"Fight it!"
"No! If I...Res-ist...a repair unit... will be sent. This Unit does not
require repair...obedience training will proceed according to schedule."
Stephanie sighed, it was hopeless, and Raphaella's brief attempt at free
will had been squished before she'd finished a single sentence.
Steam hissed, venting in Raphaella's alcove on the opposite side of the bed.
An armature unfolded from the alcove's hemispherical roof. Wrapped in a
variety of wires and ended in a two-inch wide socket, it seemed almost cobra-like
as it darted forward, plugging itself into Raphaella's Coke-bot with a solid
clunking noise.
Stephanie had about three seconds to realize that the exact same thing was
happening in her alcove before the connecting ring slotted itself into the
dead Coke-bot draped over her head.
Cold slab-like fingers closed, gripping her head tightly, the bot's
tentacles repositioning themselves so that their nipple rings could send its
hypodermics lancing into her nipples. The Coke-bot's robotic tail, which had rested
down her back like a ponytail lashed around blindly, finally wedging itself
between her ass cheeks and sliding between her legs. For an instant it looked
like she’d grown a silver cock, then the metallic probe looked back on itself
and thrust into her vagina, tiny needles forming a ring of pleasure around
her clit.
Words formed in her mind
< Unit 442569-4 Co-processor Malfunction
< Initiating Backup Co-processor
< Backup Co-processor Malfunction
< Allocating Core CPU capacity. Unit 442569-4 prioritized
A wave of dizziness came over her, desperately she tried to unplug the
thing, but it was already too late, her limbs were no longer hers to control.
< Scanning Unit 442569-4 mind-state. Operating System Download status
0.000% complete. Re-initiating Standard Lifeform Capture Protocols
< Unit 442569-4....You will enjoy this process
Stephanie inhaled ready to scream, then the pleasure hit her and her breath
exhaled in a long ecstatic sigh as a tingling erotic glow expanded from her
nipples and clit enveloping her in an all encompassing euphoric embrace.
There was a new thought-emotion flooding her mind, she hadn't realized that
she'd been searching for her home and now she'd found it. She would be safe
here, no random unplanned for events would ever bother her again.
With the feeling of security and relaxation came a feeling of cozy tiredness
that always came just before true sleep began.
0.005 minutes later Stephanie was asleep, her body locked into a comfortable
parade rest stance.
* * *
Author's Note: The alternate (gay) version of this story along with artwork
can be found at WWW.malebots.com
Metal Harvest V2.0 (by Topaz172/Edited by Doctor Robo)
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- Moderator
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Chapter 2: Breasts of Chrome
(Warning: contains surgical intervention)
------------------------------------------------
Day Three
The Brothel took stock, its trawlers had netted well over the required 121 million potential entertainment units; further trawling activities were contra-indicated.
It would take 20.35 years to upgrade the catch to acceptable levels. Many would require age reduction therapy before even rudimentary upgrades could be safely initiated. Another entire batch would need to be accelerated to adulthood, but had the benefit of largely empty neural nets. That group would accept their programming with exceptional ease.
A third group would require full gender reassignment, the surplus male organs being allocated to the sex-toy factory for attachment of a simple life support handle. Some races liked to buy a pleasure generating a memento of their visit. It was logical to at least attempt to make a profit from the flesh that would otherwise have been sent to the food processors.
Dissection of a few hundred surplus units indicated that the species was significantly different from previous acquisitions; experiments would need to be done and safe orgasm parameters determined.
The Brothel recalled data in the ill-fated attempt to adapt species 1112 for use. The Brothel-craft involved in that incident, had failed to note that under un-upgraded conditions, species 1112 expired from the effects of old age after their third reproductive cycle. The upgrade of the 1112-unit's pleasure responses had had the unfortunate side-effect of initiating the genetic failure after a single encounter. It was noted that customers reacted poorly to units that became disfunctional after a single encounter. This data was considered so important that it was flagged to the attention of any Brothel engaged in unit replcement operations.
Having obediently reviewed the historic data, The Brothel resumed its contemplation of future requirements.
A Brothel Pleasure Unit (Type One-F) needed to have an optimal blend of self-awareness, erotic skill and obedience. Most Clients preferred the pleasure units to at least appear to be capable of emotion-passion-lust without any forming of permanent life-bonds. This emotional bonding effect would be a problem, the new units required tight control until they became acclimatized to their designated roles and yet not so tightly that they lost the organic-based subtlety that clients required.
The Brothel's databanks indicated a pleasure unit that had had minimal intervention, somehow having recruited itself without the tight mental control that the retrieval units imposed. The unit would be an excellent source of feedback on the exact level of control that would be optimal for the new units. A few bytes of information sent to the processors and the pleasure group that included Unit 442569-4 was assigned for immediate upgrade, a full five years ahead of its original schedule.
Day 15
Unit 442569-4 reactivated itself, slowly opening its eyes after the luxuriantly relaxing sleep session.
In 15.75 minutes it was designated to be present in Surgical Intervention Facility 442, allowing for travel time that left 10.35 minutes in which Unit 442569-3 would assist with pre-op cleaning.
With a hiss of steam, the connection armature detached, Unit 442569-4 stepped out of its alcove and walked the two paces forward and three to the right that put it under chamber's shower facility.
Cold water sluiced downward with savage skin tingling force, causing Unit 442569-4 to gasp. Confusion filled her mind, where was she? Who was she? What was she doing here?
Stephanie.... I am Stephanie Warrington-Smith, remembering her name was all it needed to bring her back to herself.
She looked around. The room was an alien unknown place and yet it felt intimately familiar. If she were ever confused or scared 'this' was a place she'd want to return to, comforting secure, and in some way it belonged to her and she to it.
She glanced over her shoulder at her alcove it was 'hers' and she loved it, just as she'd loved her own bed back home...before...
As she stood there contemplating the invasion, the shower adjusted itself, receiving the corrected force and temperature requirements for her biology from the sensors in her co-processor.
Almost hidden by the steam, Raphaella disconnected from her alcove and approached, eyes closed and peaceful. On her co-processor's turret, her third eye scanned rapidly, its ray of laser light penetrating the luxuriant steam, sweeping a line of red across Stephanie's naked chest.
Embarrassed by her nudity Stephanie moved her hand to cover her breasts and genitals from Raphaella's red glowing gaze.
A wave of dizziness overcame her, she blinked and looked down, her hand had moved itself back to an at rest position next to her thigh.
Puzzled, she moved her hand to cover her genitals again. There was another wave of dizziness and the hand moved back to its previous position. This time there was an audible click, when she tried to move the hand a third time it remained where to co-processor had put it.
Experimentally she moved her left hand instead. The dizziness returned again with greater intensity, this time she felt her entire body lock up into immobility.
It seemed that she was allowed to observe, but not interfere.
Helplessly she watched Raphaella retrieve a silver device shaped like a gun or injector from the wall and move menacingly close. Desperately Stephanie attempted to overcome her co-processor's control, the sweat of the effort washed away by the shower's steaming water.
Raphaella's third eye stopped its ceaseless scanning and projected a grid onto Stephanie's skin; with slow menacing precision she raised the device aimed just below Stephanie's right nipple and fired.
Inside her head, Stephanie flinched, overcoming the lockout long enough to glance down at the green slime that was running down between her abdomen.
Without any trace of awareness Raphaella reached out with her empty hand and began rubbing the alien slime into Stephanie's immobilized body.
Soap!
Stephanie blushed with embarrassment, after all that fear it was only fucking shower gel!
Methodically Raphaella worked her way around Stephanie lathering one grid square after another in sequence.
The dizziness returned briefly and Stephanie found that she had access to data on the procedure. In her mind's eye a schematic of a human body materialized with grid squares coded red, yellow or green. Red it seemed indicated cleaned squares, yellow cleaning in progress and green equalled dirty.
By concentrating on the schematic she found that the green squares had subtle color variations indicating which square was next. It seemed that the cleaning would proceed from breast grid five to tricep grid one and then on down her right arm to digit five grid four.
Why was it showing her this? Stephanie wondered. Then it occurred to her; perhaps the procedure was interactive. Concentrating hard she turned digit four grid four from a dull forest green to bright grass green.
Instantly Raphaella stopped massaging tricep grid two and knelt, applying fresh soap to digit four grid four, her fingers delicately rubbed the foamy suds into Stephanie's right index finger.
Stephanie felt guilty pleasure. There was something incredibly erotic about having someone knelt before you, their only purpose the cleaning of your fingers.
As there was no obvious way to stop the cleaning and it felt so fucking good anyway, she relaxed her control over the grid allowing Raphaella to clean her in whatever order her co-processor had designated.
All too soon the schematic turned from green to red, as Raphaella silently moved from one Grid Square to the next.
Slowly it dawned on Stephanie's pleasure soaked mind that there were only a few grids left to be cleaned, areas of herself that no man or woman had ever touched.
The fun was over and designating a red grid square did nothing to prevent a gel-greased finger easing its way into her anus and giving it a thorough cleansing.
It felt strange, surprising and not at all painful, as she'd been led to expect. Thankfully the finger was soon removed and attention shifted to her labia and pussy thrilling her and reminding her of the cold chrome-plated interface that filled her and connected her co-processor to her Internal Pleasure Sensor. For a second her mind failed to understand but then her co-processor caught up and the inefficient term clitoris vanished from her mind. She had an IPS and it was functioning just fine.
Raphaella moved back in front of her, her eyes still closed but now with a happy sleeper's smile creasing her lips. More soap was applied and Stephanie found herself gasping in pleasure, desperate to interact instead of just stand statue-like whilst Raphaella's seemingly expert fingers slithered around her engorged IPS.
I'm not gay! I'm not a lesbian! She thought to herself even as she neared completion.
Suddenly Raphaella stopped her finger-fucking, stood, turned around and walked back to its alcove.
The schematic in Stephanie's mind was entirely red now. She wasn't sure whether to be annoyed that she hadn't got to cum or be relieved that she hadn't cum like a lesbian.
The shower pressure increased sluicing away the foam, at the same time the lockout deactivated allowing her the ability to move again. Her first act was to place two fingers into her vagina and rub her IPS, intending to finish off the need for orgasm the Raphaella unit had inadvertently caused.
Her crotch felt smooth. Alarmed she looked down at herself and discovered that the shower gel had also included a depilatory; the neatly trimmed bush of dark wire-like hair was gone, replaced with smooth tender skin.
The co-processor twitched slightly gripping her head more tightly, sending odd sensations through her nipple clamps and ear connection.
A feeling of correctness washed over her. She looked perfect. Getting rid of the unsightly pubic hair had been an entirely correct procedure.
Her reproductive tract was at 90% lubrication, this also was optimal and should be maintained. She slowed her masturbation to a maintenance level so that there was no chance of triggering an accidental orgasm.
Without wondering what she was doing Stephanie walked out of her home/room and turned right heading purposefully across the concourse, occasionally giving her IPS a rub.
She tried to pay attention to her surroundings, getting ready for her inevitable escape attempt, but it was getting harder and harder to think. It would be easier just to relax and let procedures take their course. By the time Unit 442569-4 reached corridor 440 its personality had been successfully returned to dormant mode.
Its primary visual receptors closed, the unit relied upon its secondary visual receptor to give a mauve tinged view of the world. As it walked it considered its situation. The spontaneous activation of its personality indicated either co-processor damage or a function of the unit's un-trained brain. Without emotion it reported itself for maintenance.
Instantly it received a reply, it was to continue as ordered; a new co-processor would be attached during the scheduled upgrade. Unit 442569-4 felt emotion stirring within its personality, her co-processor was about to die and be replaced. In a dreamy theoretical way she felt regret.
Pain! Cutting across her chest. The comforting metallic warmth of the co-processor hugging her head was gone.
Stephanie's eyes shot open, the woolly dreaminess was entirely gone and she could think clearly again. Her memory was intact; she knew exactly what had happened, what she'd done and what she'd been allowed to do.
She was on an alien spaceship; she'd just walked into an operating theatre and happily strapped herself down to a surgical bed.
Cursing the damn coke-bots she squirmed, desperate to free a hand, or foot.
One of the aliens stood over her hesitating holding a scalpel that dripped with her blood.
It was a lovecraftian thing with hands that appeared to be octopoid tendrils augmented in polished chrome; she screamed and thrashed more desperately.
"Unit 442569-4...." burbled the alien addressing her in a gaggle of sounds that translated themselves in her head; instantly Stephanie calmed down, a part of her recognizing its designation.
"Please. Don't do this. Don't cut me again." said Stephanie with a detached calmness that didn't feel natural. Another part of her raged silently, she wanted to be allowed to feel that rage.
"Query Unit 442569-4: Why do you resist upgrade procedure?" demanded the creature sounding perplexed and hurt that any unit would reject its function.
The stupid question was too much, the artificial calmness disintegrated.
"Because it bloody hurts!" Stephanie snapped, forgetting for a moment that this was an alien Borg and not just an idiot tourist.
The alien stood motionless its large green eyes closing, leaving only its robotic eye looking at her. Clearly whatever controlled it needed to think hard about the whole pain concept.
Finally it reopened its eyes.
"Pain is contra-indicated. Unit 442569-4 will interpret organically generated neural pain signals as pleasure signals during this procedure" it instructed.
"Oh right, so you just telling me it won't bloody hurt is going make it true is it!"
"That is correct Unit 442569-4"
The scalpel descended, Stephanie tensed her abdomen scrunching her face in anticipation.
The blade sliced into her, like a knife into butter, only this time it didn't hurt. Inside the wound, it felt like the sensation her IPS would feel when her fingers caressed it.
Forgetting what she was doing she arched her back, forcing the erotic sensation deeper into her.
"Cease movement, Unit 442569-4. Functionality may be impaired."
Common sense told her that the alien Borg was correct; wriggling in ecstasy whilst someone had a scalpel deep in near your heart was Darwin Award stupid.
Stephanie decided to do as she was told, although it was difficult, her internal pleasure sensor was painfully aroused and strobed with erotic need with every slice of the blade. Desperately she gripped the edge of the table trying to hold herself immobile.
Her chest was a mess, and her naked buttocks were sticky with blood from the multiple entry incisions.
"You do know I could die from blood loss?" she asked, trying to focus through the throbbing intense pleasure around the wounds.
The alien Borg ignored her, swiveling 180 degrees to pick up a device from a tray, and then continued the move through the full 360°. The thing it held in its tentacles looked like a chrome jellyfish, a polished mushroom-like cap with fibre-optic tendrils hanging down like stingers from its underside. Despite its metallic appearance the device seemed malleable and soft.
The Borg reached out and lowered the thing onto Stephanie's mutilated breast. Instantly the tendrils sought out the incisions and burrowed into her flesh travelling down nerve and vascular ducts, spreading deep. Needless to say the pleasure was intense.... so intense that she felt the splatter of her own juices joining the blood on her inner thigh.
A cold spray of watery liquid brought her back down to reality, she glanced down the length of her body, the alien was sluicing away her blood to reveal a perfectionist version of a breast glistening and reflecting the room's lights in its mirror-like surface. Its edges seeming to have merged seamlessly with her skin, the metallic skin fading to a normal tan within an inch of the unit's edge.
Under the skin dark veins had spread, sub-veins branching out at right-angles.
Stephanie shifted her gaze to the surgical tray, a second breast-thing waited in a vacuum-sealed container. Stephanie shivered, a weak, pleasure addicted, part of her wanted the alien to get on with installing it so that her rack was once again balanced.
It was all so confusing, part of her mind belonged to these creatures, and another part desperately wanted the opportunity to destroy them. At times she was an automaton or a willing accomplice and at others she had full free will; it was difficult to guess which state she'd be in from minute to minute.
Silently the alien Borg continued its work, now that the unit, had quieted and was operating within normal parameters, further verbal interaction was un-necessary.
By the time an abdominal upgrade had been installed, the unit being upgraded had reverted to a non-aware pleasure state; allowing the procedure to be completed in only 86.2% of the time allocated to the task.
Satisfied with its work, Surgical Unit 2873924-1 returned to its alcove and reported its findings. The new units responded very well to induced pleasure stimuli. In its expert opinion the new units were almost ideal, with only minor CPU upgrade such units could edit any abuse The Customer cared to inflict and feel it as the most intense pleasure. Units this adaptable would allow The Brothel to charge a premium rate.
The next task was the installation of a new co-processor, an intermediate version, lacking the combat capture capabilities of the Type 22, but still not a permanent installation. The clamps that held it to the unit's brain housing were slender, no longer needing to resist the frantic efforts of a non-unit to remove it. The co-Processor itself had an improved interfacing capability, the dizziness caused by the use of the aural duct as a datalink had been addressed and the bulky tail that had allowed the co-processor to penetrate the Unit and subvert its Internal Pleasure Sensor, was now wafer thin and curved at the end, no longer blocking Customer penetration.
Surgical Unit 2873924-1 paused, feeling something equivalent to the emotion 'anticipation', a signal that The Brothel was about to give new instruction.
Information flowed; Its report had been received and acted upon, the Type 32 Co-processor it had been about to install was to be upgraded to a Type 32-A1-N8.
Surgical Unit 2873924-1 sent its acknowledgement and began making the adjustments. Instead of the usual four connections per nipple, the Co-processor's control arms were to have rings with eight pleasure induction nodes.
The Surgical Unit gently placed the 32-A1-N8 next to the Unit's brain housing, arranging its slender arms so that the connection rings rested over the unit's nipples.
Activation.
The needle-like connections stabbed into the unit's nipples causing it to convulse once again.
Unit 2873924-1 glanced at the brainwave monitor, watching the two readings synchronize successfully.
Silently Prototype Pleasure Unit 442569-4 got up off the surgical table and walked away to its next task.
In a passive theoretical way Surgical Unit 2873924-1 longed to see the prototype's return...it was going to be a Hotty.
(Warning: contains surgical intervention)
------------------------------------------------
Day Three
The Brothel took stock, its trawlers had netted well over the required 121 million potential entertainment units; further trawling activities were contra-indicated.
It would take 20.35 years to upgrade the catch to acceptable levels. Many would require age reduction therapy before even rudimentary upgrades could be safely initiated. Another entire batch would need to be accelerated to adulthood, but had the benefit of largely empty neural nets. That group would accept their programming with exceptional ease.
A third group would require full gender reassignment, the surplus male organs being allocated to the sex-toy factory for attachment of a simple life support handle. Some races liked to buy a pleasure generating a memento of their visit. It was logical to at least attempt to make a profit from the flesh that would otherwise have been sent to the food processors.
Dissection of a few hundred surplus units indicated that the species was significantly different from previous acquisitions; experiments would need to be done and safe orgasm parameters determined.
The Brothel recalled data in the ill-fated attempt to adapt species 1112 for use. The Brothel-craft involved in that incident, had failed to note that under un-upgraded conditions, species 1112 expired from the effects of old age after their third reproductive cycle. The upgrade of the 1112-unit's pleasure responses had had the unfortunate side-effect of initiating the genetic failure after a single encounter. It was noted that customers reacted poorly to units that became disfunctional after a single encounter. This data was considered so important that it was flagged to the attention of any Brothel engaged in unit replcement operations.
Having obediently reviewed the historic data, The Brothel resumed its contemplation of future requirements.
A Brothel Pleasure Unit (Type One-F) needed to have an optimal blend of self-awareness, erotic skill and obedience. Most Clients preferred the pleasure units to at least appear to be capable of emotion-passion-lust without any forming of permanent life-bonds. This emotional bonding effect would be a problem, the new units required tight control until they became acclimatized to their designated roles and yet not so tightly that they lost the organic-based subtlety that clients required.
The Brothel's databanks indicated a pleasure unit that had had minimal intervention, somehow having recruited itself without the tight mental control that the retrieval units imposed. The unit would be an excellent source of feedback on the exact level of control that would be optimal for the new units. A few bytes of information sent to the processors and the pleasure group that included Unit 442569-4 was assigned for immediate upgrade, a full five years ahead of its original schedule.
Day 15
Unit 442569-4 reactivated itself, slowly opening its eyes after the luxuriantly relaxing sleep session.
In 15.75 minutes it was designated to be present in Surgical Intervention Facility 442, allowing for travel time that left 10.35 minutes in which Unit 442569-3 would assist with pre-op cleaning.
With a hiss of steam, the connection armature detached, Unit 442569-4 stepped out of its alcove and walked the two paces forward and three to the right that put it under chamber's shower facility.
Cold water sluiced downward with savage skin tingling force, causing Unit 442569-4 to gasp. Confusion filled her mind, where was she? Who was she? What was she doing here?
Stephanie.... I am Stephanie Warrington-Smith, remembering her name was all it needed to bring her back to herself.
She looked around. The room was an alien unknown place and yet it felt intimately familiar. If she were ever confused or scared 'this' was a place she'd want to return to, comforting secure, and in some way it belonged to her and she to it.
She glanced over her shoulder at her alcove it was 'hers' and she loved it, just as she'd loved her own bed back home...before...
As she stood there contemplating the invasion, the shower adjusted itself, receiving the corrected force and temperature requirements for her biology from the sensors in her co-processor.
Almost hidden by the steam, Raphaella disconnected from her alcove and approached, eyes closed and peaceful. On her co-processor's turret, her third eye scanned rapidly, its ray of laser light penetrating the luxuriant steam, sweeping a line of red across Stephanie's naked chest.
Embarrassed by her nudity Stephanie moved her hand to cover her breasts and genitals from Raphaella's red glowing gaze.
A wave of dizziness overcame her, she blinked and looked down, her hand had moved itself back to an at rest position next to her thigh.
Puzzled, she moved her hand to cover her genitals again. There was another wave of dizziness and the hand moved back to its previous position. This time there was an audible click, when she tried to move the hand a third time it remained where to co-processor had put it.
Experimentally she moved her left hand instead. The dizziness returned again with greater intensity, this time she felt her entire body lock up into immobility.
It seemed that she was allowed to observe, but not interfere.
Helplessly she watched Raphaella retrieve a silver device shaped like a gun or injector from the wall and move menacingly close. Desperately Stephanie attempted to overcome her co-processor's control, the sweat of the effort washed away by the shower's steaming water.
Raphaella's third eye stopped its ceaseless scanning and projected a grid onto Stephanie's skin; with slow menacing precision she raised the device aimed just below Stephanie's right nipple and fired.
Inside her head, Stephanie flinched, overcoming the lockout long enough to glance down at the green slime that was running down between her abdomen.
Without any trace of awareness Raphaella reached out with her empty hand and began rubbing the alien slime into Stephanie's immobilized body.
Soap!
Stephanie blushed with embarrassment, after all that fear it was only fucking shower gel!
Methodically Raphaella worked her way around Stephanie lathering one grid square after another in sequence.
The dizziness returned briefly and Stephanie found that she had access to data on the procedure. In her mind's eye a schematic of a human body materialized with grid squares coded red, yellow or green. Red it seemed indicated cleaned squares, yellow cleaning in progress and green equalled dirty.
By concentrating on the schematic she found that the green squares had subtle color variations indicating which square was next. It seemed that the cleaning would proceed from breast grid five to tricep grid one and then on down her right arm to digit five grid four.
Why was it showing her this? Stephanie wondered. Then it occurred to her; perhaps the procedure was interactive. Concentrating hard she turned digit four grid four from a dull forest green to bright grass green.
Instantly Raphaella stopped massaging tricep grid two and knelt, applying fresh soap to digit four grid four, her fingers delicately rubbed the foamy suds into Stephanie's right index finger.
Stephanie felt guilty pleasure. There was something incredibly erotic about having someone knelt before you, their only purpose the cleaning of your fingers.
As there was no obvious way to stop the cleaning and it felt so fucking good anyway, she relaxed her control over the grid allowing Raphaella to clean her in whatever order her co-processor had designated.
All too soon the schematic turned from green to red, as Raphaella silently moved from one Grid Square to the next.
Slowly it dawned on Stephanie's pleasure soaked mind that there were only a few grids left to be cleaned, areas of herself that no man or woman had ever touched.
The fun was over and designating a red grid square did nothing to prevent a gel-greased finger easing its way into her anus and giving it a thorough cleansing.
It felt strange, surprising and not at all painful, as she'd been led to expect. Thankfully the finger was soon removed and attention shifted to her labia and pussy thrilling her and reminding her of the cold chrome-plated interface that filled her and connected her co-processor to her Internal Pleasure Sensor. For a second her mind failed to understand but then her co-processor caught up and the inefficient term clitoris vanished from her mind. She had an IPS and it was functioning just fine.
Raphaella moved back in front of her, her eyes still closed but now with a happy sleeper's smile creasing her lips. More soap was applied and Stephanie found herself gasping in pleasure, desperate to interact instead of just stand statue-like whilst Raphaella's seemingly expert fingers slithered around her engorged IPS.
I'm not gay! I'm not a lesbian! She thought to herself even as she neared completion.
Suddenly Raphaella stopped her finger-fucking, stood, turned around and walked back to its alcove.
The schematic in Stephanie's mind was entirely red now. She wasn't sure whether to be annoyed that she hadn't got to cum or be relieved that she hadn't cum like a lesbian.
The shower pressure increased sluicing away the foam, at the same time the lockout deactivated allowing her the ability to move again. Her first act was to place two fingers into her vagina and rub her IPS, intending to finish off the need for orgasm the Raphaella unit had inadvertently caused.
Her crotch felt smooth. Alarmed she looked down at herself and discovered that the shower gel had also included a depilatory; the neatly trimmed bush of dark wire-like hair was gone, replaced with smooth tender skin.
The co-processor twitched slightly gripping her head more tightly, sending odd sensations through her nipple clamps and ear connection.
A feeling of correctness washed over her. She looked perfect. Getting rid of the unsightly pubic hair had been an entirely correct procedure.
Her reproductive tract was at 90% lubrication, this also was optimal and should be maintained. She slowed her masturbation to a maintenance level so that there was no chance of triggering an accidental orgasm.
Without wondering what she was doing Stephanie walked out of her home/room and turned right heading purposefully across the concourse, occasionally giving her IPS a rub.
She tried to pay attention to her surroundings, getting ready for her inevitable escape attempt, but it was getting harder and harder to think. It would be easier just to relax and let procedures take their course. By the time Unit 442569-4 reached corridor 440 its personality had been successfully returned to dormant mode.
Its primary visual receptors closed, the unit relied upon its secondary visual receptor to give a mauve tinged view of the world. As it walked it considered its situation. The spontaneous activation of its personality indicated either co-processor damage or a function of the unit's un-trained brain. Without emotion it reported itself for maintenance.
Instantly it received a reply, it was to continue as ordered; a new co-processor would be attached during the scheduled upgrade. Unit 442569-4 felt emotion stirring within its personality, her co-processor was about to die and be replaced. In a dreamy theoretical way she felt regret.
Pain! Cutting across her chest. The comforting metallic warmth of the co-processor hugging her head was gone.
Stephanie's eyes shot open, the woolly dreaminess was entirely gone and she could think clearly again. Her memory was intact; she knew exactly what had happened, what she'd done and what she'd been allowed to do.
She was on an alien spaceship; she'd just walked into an operating theatre and happily strapped herself down to a surgical bed.
Cursing the damn coke-bots she squirmed, desperate to free a hand, or foot.
One of the aliens stood over her hesitating holding a scalpel that dripped with her blood.
It was a lovecraftian thing with hands that appeared to be octopoid tendrils augmented in polished chrome; she screamed and thrashed more desperately.
"Unit 442569-4...." burbled the alien addressing her in a gaggle of sounds that translated themselves in her head; instantly Stephanie calmed down, a part of her recognizing its designation.
"Please. Don't do this. Don't cut me again." said Stephanie with a detached calmness that didn't feel natural. Another part of her raged silently, she wanted to be allowed to feel that rage.
"Query Unit 442569-4: Why do you resist upgrade procedure?" demanded the creature sounding perplexed and hurt that any unit would reject its function.
The stupid question was too much, the artificial calmness disintegrated.
"Because it bloody hurts!" Stephanie snapped, forgetting for a moment that this was an alien Borg and not just an idiot tourist.
The alien stood motionless its large green eyes closing, leaving only its robotic eye looking at her. Clearly whatever controlled it needed to think hard about the whole pain concept.
Finally it reopened its eyes.
"Pain is contra-indicated. Unit 442569-4 will interpret organically generated neural pain signals as pleasure signals during this procedure" it instructed.
"Oh right, so you just telling me it won't bloody hurt is going make it true is it!"
"That is correct Unit 442569-4"
The scalpel descended, Stephanie tensed her abdomen scrunching her face in anticipation.
The blade sliced into her, like a knife into butter, only this time it didn't hurt. Inside the wound, it felt like the sensation her IPS would feel when her fingers caressed it.
Forgetting what she was doing she arched her back, forcing the erotic sensation deeper into her.
"Cease movement, Unit 442569-4. Functionality may be impaired."
Common sense told her that the alien Borg was correct; wriggling in ecstasy whilst someone had a scalpel deep in near your heart was Darwin Award stupid.
Stephanie decided to do as she was told, although it was difficult, her internal pleasure sensor was painfully aroused and strobed with erotic need with every slice of the blade. Desperately she gripped the edge of the table trying to hold herself immobile.
Her chest was a mess, and her naked buttocks were sticky with blood from the multiple entry incisions.
"You do know I could die from blood loss?" she asked, trying to focus through the throbbing intense pleasure around the wounds.
The alien Borg ignored her, swiveling 180 degrees to pick up a device from a tray, and then continued the move through the full 360°. The thing it held in its tentacles looked like a chrome jellyfish, a polished mushroom-like cap with fibre-optic tendrils hanging down like stingers from its underside. Despite its metallic appearance the device seemed malleable and soft.
The Borg reached out and lowered the thing onto Stephanie's mutilated breast. Instantly the tendrils sought out the incisions and burrowed into her flesh travelling down nerve and vascular ducts, spreading deep. Needless to say the pleasure was intense.... so intense that she felt the splatter of her own juices joining the blood on her inner thigh.
A cold spray of watery liquid brought her back down to reality, she glanced down the length of her body, the alien was sluicing away her blood to reveal a perfectionist version of a breast glistening and reflecting the room's lights in its mirror-like surface. Its edges seeming to have merged seamlessly with her skin, the metallic skin fading to a normal tan within an inch of the unit's edge.
Under the skin dark veins had spread, sub-veins branching out at right-angles.
Stephanie shifted her gaze to the surgical tray, a second breast-thing waited in a vacuum-sealed container. Stephanie shivered, a weak, pleasure addicted, part of her wanted the alien to get on with installing it so that her rack was once again balanced.
It was all so confusing, part of her mind belonged to these creatures, and another part desperately wanted the opportunity to destroy them. At times she was an automaton or a willing accomplice and at others she had full free will; it was difficult to guess which state she'd be in from minute to minute.
Silently the alien Borg continued its work, now that the unit, had quieted and was operating within normal parameters, further verbal interaction was un-necessary.
By the time an abdominal upgrade had been installed, the unit being upgraded had reverted to a non-aware pleasure state; allowing the procedure to be completed in only 86.2% of the time allocated to the task.
Satisfied with its work, Surgical Unit 2873924-1 returned to its alcove and reported its findings. The new units responded very well to induced pleasure stimuli. In its expert opinion the new units were almost ideal, with only minor CPU upgrade such units could edit any abuse The Customer cared to inflict and feel it as the most intense pleasure. Units this adaptable would allow The Brothel to charge a premium rate.
The next task was the installation of a new co-processor, an intermediate version, lacking the combat capture capabilities of the Type 22, but still not a permanent installation. The clamps that held it to the unit's brain housing were slender, no longer needing to resist the frantic efforts of a non-unit to remove it. The co-Processor itself had an improved interfacing capability, the dizziness caused by the use of the aural duct as a datalink had been addressed and the bulky tail that had allowed the co-processor to penetrate the Unit and subvert its Internal Pleasure Sensor, was now wafer thin and curved at the end, no longer blocking Customer penetration.
Surgical Unit 2873924-1 paused, feeling something equivalent to the emotion 'anticipation', a signal that The Brothel was about to give new instruction.
Information flowed; Its report had been received and acted upon, the Type 32 Co-processor it had been about to install was to be upgraded to a Type 32-A1-N8.
Surgical Unit 2873924-1 sent its acknowledgement and began making the adjustments. Instead of the usual four connections per nipple, the Co-processor's control arms were to have rings with eight pleasure induction nodes.
The Surgical Unit gently placed the 32-A1-N8 next to the Unit's brain housing, arranging its slender arms so that the connection rings rested over the unit's nipples.
Activation.
The needle-like connections stabbed into the unit's nipples causing it to convulse once again.
Unit 2873924-1 glanced at the brainwave monitor, watching the two readings synchronize successfully.
Silently Prototype Pleasure Unit 442569-4 got up off the surgical table and walked away to its next task.
In a passive theoretical way Surgical Unit 2873924-1 longed to see the prototype's return...it was going to be a Hotty.
-
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Chapter 3: 3x3 Eyes
by: Topaz172
Day 35
The Brothel viewed The Customer's tertiary instructions with something analogous to dismay, were they after simple gratification, expendable toys or permanent companions? If the latter the new units would need to be almost fully free willed and at the same time programmed to desire The Customer species Bio-type, completely independent of The Brothel's prompting. Analysis and adjustment of the Prototype's mental state would be critical. Several interaction scenarios, were scheduled, once an optimal mental balance was achieved the persona could be copied to the other units.
* * *
Stephanie awoke. She was back in her alcove. Obviously her Co-processor had walked her back here after she'd overloaded on surgical pleasure. She waited, expecting some order to pop into her head.
Nothing happened.
Hesitantly she moved her hand.
Nothing restrained her.
With delight she realized she was back in full control, she could do anything she wanted!
She immediately walked over to the bed and led down, the mirrored ceiling would give her a good view of what the damn aliens had done to her.
Tenderly she touched one of her chrome plated breasts and was surprised to find that she could feel the touch of her finger, exactly as if it were her own flesh. She prodded; the chrome was as soft as normal breast tissue, her finger pushing it down slightly.
So I’m not just metal, I’m alien metal, she mused, Gently stroking her finger along the metalskin, her inner void feeling tingly with pleasure; to say it felt good was an understatement.
After a few luxurious minutes she noticed something else. A twinge of fear jolted her; she'd not noticed that she was wearing a new Co-processor. It wasn't the one she'd gutted and faked her way aboard with... and that meant it was fully functional, she was now as much a Coke-Head as anyone else. Any opportunity she’d had to damage the invasion fleet was utterly gone.
Oddly, she felt no regret about that. At some point her intention to resist had been edited out. Even the fact that she'd been edited wasn't troubling.
Hesitantly she touched her Co-processor on its carapace, slightly fearful that she would activate the thing. To her surprise she found that she was feeling her touch as if it were her own skin... exactly like her new breasts.
The Co-processor's metallic eye-lid was half closed; the red eye underneath was inert. It looked for all the world as if it were sleeping. She wondered briefly what it saw when it was active; it wouldn't be like normal vision that was certain.
There was no disorientation or dizziness to warn her this time. One moment her two blue eyes were looking at her reflection; the next she was looking with all three.
A ranging grid superimposed itself and streams of alien text flowed down around the edges of her vision. Without even having to think about it she knew that the mirror was precisely 1324.551 millimetres above her and that glass it was made of had a refractive index of 0.02.
Intrigued she tried looking to her left, the grid and data vanished, instead she found that she had an extra window of perception. It was kind of like looking through binoculars and a telescope at the same time.
Tweaking it further she was delighted to find that she could look behind herself, see her brown hair and the back of her head where it rested on the pillow.
Of course having discovered the miracle of having access to a third eye, there was no way to turn it off again. Even closing it didn't help; all she got was range and composition data about her chrome plated titanium alloy eyelid.
She lay there for a further 5.522 minutes wondering when she'd get her orders. 'It'...whatever 'it' was, wouldn't have revived her for nothing.
In the end she lost patience and jumped off the bed and started pacing. She'd paced the length of the room twice before the uneasiness started, something wasn't right. She paced some more glancing occasionally at the bed. Something about the bed just irritated her.
Finally she walked back to it and straightened the metallic top sheet. Once the bed was back in order, the sense of unease passed and she felt a glow of satisfaction. To her surprise she found that the reward sensation was deep and erotic
"Clever bastard!" she muttered to herself and whatever was watching. Perhaps they were going to turn her into a domestic servant that got off on neatly arranged beds and polished floors.
Her IPS throbbed again and a pleasurable zap of electricity jolted her nipples.. She looked down fascinated to see the tiny static charges arcing around her nipple pins.
Apparently keeping things clean was to be rewarded with pleasure. Absentmindedly she began stroking her glistening abdomen and wondered what would happen next. What would the reward be for polishing the floor? She'd been awake for 11.827 minutes and still no purpose!
"Steph-an-ie" said a voice
Stephanie whirled around to face Raphaella's alcove "You can talk!"
"Ob-vi....Obviously, yes I am now able to be talking" replied the Raphaella her voice sounding more normal with every word.
Stephanie quickly scanned Raphaella's Co-processor with her third eye. The type 22 had been ordered to power down by its higher authority; leaving Raphaella totally free. Right now she was probably more her own woman than Stephanie was.
"You are looking different since last I am seeing you"
"Yeah, they detected that my Co-processor was busted and fitted me with this upgraded version" she replied caressing her cheek where her normal skin merged into her Co-processor's polished chrome casing. "I'm in the same boat as everyone else now"
"What about Felix? I am not remembering exactly what happened."
"He got injected with the breeder bio-agent, he's ...not... one of us any more."
Raphaella looked grim "I am knowing that his constant Pepsi jokes were a temptation to fate."
The two stood silently for 0.423 minutes remembering their lost friend.
"You can move out of your alcove if you want, your Co-processor's not going to stop you" advised Stephanie
Raphaella looked startled; it hadn't occurred to her that she was able to move for herself. Hesitantly she stepped clear, obviously expecting alarms to go off.
"You disabled it?" guessed Raphaella
"No. 'It' wants something from us. I don't know what though. It woke me 13.531 minutes ago but hasn't instructed me to do anything yet."
"13.531? That is quite precise is it not?"
Stephanie's eyes widened in surprise, she hadn't realized. It was obvious of course; She was tied to the operating system's clock.
"I guess I'm more modified than I thought."
"Stephanie, can you be helping me get this thing off? Once we get a few people free we can be doing some serious damage!"
"Yes, we could" agreed Stephanie, although she had no enthusiasm for destroying things, it would be untidy, and she was finding that untidiness made her increasingly uneasy.
"Well?"
"I think...I think its doing things to my mind, changing how I look at things. When I think about disrupting it's plans, its like the most boring thing I can imagine...I can't sustain any interest in it"
"So you are going to sell out? Let it win?" demanded Raphaella furiously
Stephanie's mind was in turmoil, what did she really want? She wouldn't think about resisting, there was deep unease around that thought, but she also owed Raphaella a debt. Most of all she wanted Raphaella to understand, how confused she was.
Her third eye glowed and shot a beam of laser light into Raphaella's inert Co-processor.
"What? What are you doing?"
Slowly the type 22 activated clenching tighter around Raphaella's head, powered by the beam emanating from Stephanie's robotic eye.
"I'm not sure. I think I'm communicating with you, with your Co-processor, that is. I think I'm transferring how I feel."
"I can feel it" replied Raphaella moving her hand to caress her Co-processor's shell. "Did getting cut open really feel that good?"
"Yes"
Glancing down Stephanie noted Raphaella's nipples getting hard...was the beautifully exotic girl imagining how it felt to be upgraded.
"Confirmed"
"You heard my thoughts?" she asked knowing the answer before she finished speaking
"They are my thoughts, I just feel exactly as you do. 'It' may have changed you, but it’s you that’s changed me...see, I'm even talking like you. Please close your eye Stephanie, I am in danger of becoming an exact copy of you."
Stephanie hastily closed her eyes. What had she done? Why had it felt so right, to edit and amend her friend?
"Can I touch?" asked Raphaella, moving her fingers to caress Stephanie's chrome plated breasts.
Stephanie gasped, it felt sooo good.
"I'm not a lesbian" she said, as much to remind herself as to tell Raphaella.
"Neither am I. But it feels like a long time since I last came" replied Raphaella, her mangled speech pattern fading to the extent that Stephanie thought that it was her voice saying the words not the Latino.
Stephanie wondered how long it had been and was surprised to find the answer floating just below the surface of her awareness.
"In your case 50471.358 minutes, about a month... ± 71.358 minutes"
Energy crackled around her nipples and her IPS clamp released its tight hold. Evidently the controlling intelligence approved of thoughts related to lesbian sex.
"I think It wants us to relieve each other" she informed Raphaella
"It does? or is that just an excuse?" smirked Raphaella
Instead of replying Stephanie opened her eye and fed the reply directly into Raphaella’s Co-processor.
"Oh! You are straight then. I guess it really does, well that’s nice of it, even if we are both straight."
Stephanie glanced down at Raphaella's naked crotch and felt disgust at the untidy tangle of pubic hair. "Well I'm not touching that until you've been permanently shaved"
Raphaella glanced down in surprise and then at Stephanie's clean hairless crotch a look of envy and embarrassment forming on her tanned face.
"Shave me" instructed Raphaella.
"I obey" Stephanie replied, the instruction might have come from Raphaella, but whatever it was that controlled them was into reinforcing correct behavior. Awareness that 8.500 minutes had just been assigned for pre-op cleaning floated just below her thoughts. The knowledge of exactly how to clean the girl and where the chemicals were stored became available to her 0.02 minutes later.
"Stand in the shower"
"The what? Oh...I see" Raphaella moved to the correct area, obviously directed by newly implanted information of her own.
Without really being aware of it, Stephanie found herself slipping into the actions required for a pre-op cleansing. One action followed the next in a pre-programmed sequence. Her active awareness wasn't required. 3.299 minutes later she became aware that she was knelt in front of Raphaella's soap covered crotch.
"Stephanie? Stephanie can you hear me?"
"Wha...? Yes. I hear you"
"You were zoned out there, not answering me. You ok?"
"Yes. That was weird. It was like how you can drive to work and then can't remember any details of the journey afterward."
With no signal from either of them the shower increased its pressure washing away the soap and taking Raphaella's pubic hair with it.
Stephanie felt her mouth watering and felt a need to lick and suck. This time she detected the artificiality of the emotion as if it had a metal tang to it.
"It just tried to make me want to use my tongue on you!"
"It did? Kinky fucking machine"
The sensation returned, stronger, more forceful, the mental taste of iron like the taste of blood.
"It really definitely wants me to do you. Its going to try convincing me to obey again in about 0.500 minutes...I don't think I can resist it a third time, Sorry love"
"Its Ok. I know its not you doing it" replied Raphaella sounding as if she were making a great noble sacrifice. “Its making me feel desperate for it too”
The surge of desire washed over her exactly on cue; this time Stephanie didn't reject it, accepting the thought as if it were her own. There was no metallic tang to it.
She probed the waiting lips touching the soft inner flesh with her tongue. There should have been a gag-reflex but that purely biological function had been disabled.
A pair of hands grabbed her head, one tangling in the hair behind her ear, the other cupping the carapace of her Co-processor.
She closed her eyes, so that she could focus on the sensations rather than the view. Instantly her Co-processor began displaying a 3D graphical overlay that spread across all three visual cortexes. She could see a wireframe representation of Raphaella's vagina and the Co-Processor probe within her aural manipulation zone.
Graphs, targeting reticules, sliders and something like forcefield level indicator flashed into existence next to the virtual vagina. With her right side organic eye she saw an array of arousal strategies, pre-programmed attack plans each with a projected arousal quotient and predicted time to orgasm next to it.
Eating Out: The Videogame?? It sure as hell beats playing SIMS: University.
She still wasn't a lesbian though, whatever 'it' wanted. Rebelliously she focused on the least-time/maximum-orgasm attack plan.
The ring of quadrants around the virtual vagina began flashing in sequence. Stephanie began to lick, her tongue touching its tip to each target area in turn. As soon as the last area was touched new targets appeared.
'Level two' she thought to herself, more difficult this; a rhythmic back-forward head motion with a cycle of 0.04minutes was required in order for her tongue to hit the required target quadrants.
Each consecutive level required more elaborate tongue twisting, head banging manoeuvres until finally it was 'level 8' and the 'end of game monster'...her finger slipped into Raphaella's pussy and gave the IPS nerve cluster a good poke.
The effect was something like hitting a big red nuke button. Everything went white for a second, the virtual graphic changing to include a cylindrical blue indicator like a fuel gauge. Rapidly the blue bar surged further up the display filling more of the virtual vagina’s length with its depiction of Raphaella’s orgasm.
She opened her eyes and pulled back looking up along Raphaella's smooth abdomen toward her pert breasts and dazed looking face.
"Fucking liar! No straight girl gives tongue that well" gasped Raphaella in a playfully accusatory tone.
"I..." Stephanie gave up, it would take too long to explain and she didn't want to damage Raphaella's persona with a further red-eye download. Besides it would be kinda cool to have Raphaella discover delights of that particular upgrade for herself. "...Lets just say there was more too it than that. And if I'd known you tasted that good I'd have been a lesbian years ago!"
Raphaella's lowerlips still glistened, Stephanie noticed. It looked untidy and tasty at the same time.
"Let me just get that for you" she said licking the shaved crotch thoroughly clean.
It was probably significant that Raphaella made no objection and didn't move to brush her away.
0.25 minutes later the shower ceased operation leaving the two girls glistening with moisture. Patiently they waited in silence for something to occur, neither feeling any particular need to communicate or do anything else. Slowly awareness faded from their eyes, waiting was a skill that they had alread mastered.
* * *
The Brothel reviewed data retrieved from both units, intrigued by the adaptability and malleability of this particular lifeform, by far the best it had encountered in recent millennia. No instinctively deployed poison sacs like species 14580, no ability to spontaneously regenerate redundant limbs like species 25141, and no inappropriate berserker behavior like species 40019.
In fact, species 84106 was far too valuable to just lose to natural wastage.
A trawler unit had already been sent back to retrieve some of the planet's non-sentient forms (The Customer's lengthening list of requirements included some unusual, and highly profitable requests), procuring a small breeding population would, cost little additional effort and provide quick replacements for units irreparably damaged by interaction with the customers.
* * *
Day 42
The Alpha Male sniffed the air; one of his females was coming into season. Instantly his body wanted her, he would dominate her, impress her with his power and then mate until she no longer smelled ready. He bounded across the field scattering the other females, hunting the ripe one.
The chase was short, the female knew her purpose, opening herself for him, guiding his vastly large fuck-thing into her moist hole.
Taking the female, brought some pleasure, but only a little, the act itself taking long enough to insert her stuff and no longer. In the dim recesses of her mind the mating lacked something that he was no longer able to name. It just wasn't the Big Fuck he dreamed of.
In his dreams he would confront a female strong like himself and prove his dominance over it, pin it down and, once it had accepted its fate, use its gloriously tight ass, the way all females were used, thrusting savagely whilst it grunted its pleasure and submission, the penetration would continue through light time and dark time and then another light time and dark time. His fantasy mate even had a name… Xena.
It was a surprisingly complex fantasy given the near toxic levels of hyper-testosterone burning in the Alpha-male's veins. That it had imagination enough to desire a specific partner at the moment of copulation indicated it had once had quite a sophisticated intellect.
The Alpha male sniffed the air again, this time smelling bad metal. Bad metal ...was bad... He couldn't remember why, but it was. Everytime he saw Bad Metal he would smash it, his females joining in adding to the frenzy. The Bad Metal was close, he would protect his females, summoning all his might he roared his challenge, causing the females to huddle together.
There! Scuttling through the grass! He pounced, grabbing the Bad Metal and twisting off its limbs.
He roared again, holding the broken Bad Metal above his head. Was he not strongest? Was he not the fittest, females should acknowledge how clever he was.
The females agreed that he was great and clustered around his tree trunk sized legs, the more daring ones sneakily trying to fondle and caress him.
The Capture Unit reported its impaired function, raised its remaining limb and expelled a cloud of inky black sedative.
The breeders were unconscious before they hit the ground.
Other Capture Units crawled up, fastening themselves to the breeders heads. Once securely interfaced the units stood the bodies up and marched them slowly toward the trawler, joining the queue behind several stallions, a zebra, three male lions and the Sidemore Petting Zoo's single surviving goat.
To be continued...
by: Topaz172
Day 35
The Brothel viewed The Customer's tertiary instructions with something analogous to dismay, were they after simple gratification, expendable toys or permanent companions? If the latter the new units would need to be almost fully free willed and at the same time programmed to desire The Customer species Bio-type, completely independent of The Brothel's prompting. Analysis and adjustment of the Prototype's mental state would be critical. Several interaction scenarios, were scheduled, once an optimal mental balance was achieved the persona could be copied to the other units.
* * *
Stephanie awoke. She was back in her alcove. Obviously her Co-processor had walked her back here after she'd overloaded on surgical pleasure. She waited, expecting some order to pop into her head.
Nothing happened.
Hesitantly she moved her hand.
Nothing restrained her.
With delight she realized she was back in full control, she could do anything she wanted!
She immediately walked over to the bed and led down, the mirrored ceiling would give her a good view of what the damn aliens had done to her.
Tenderly she touched one of her chrome plated breasts and was surprised to find that she could feel the touch of her finger, exactly as if it were her own flesh. She prodded; the chrome was as soft as normal breast tissue, her finger pushing it down slightly.
So I’m not just metal, I’m alien metal, she mused, Gently stroking her finger along the metalskin, her inner void feeling tingly with pleasure; to say it felt good was an understatement.
After a few luxurious minutes she noticed something else. A twinge of fear jolted her; she'd not noticed that she was wearing a new Co-processor. It wasn't the one she'd gutted and faked her way aboard with... and that meant it was fully functional, she was now as much a Coke-Head as anyone else. Any opportunity she’d had to damage the invasion fleet was utterly gone.
Oddly, she felt no regret about that. At some point her intention to resist had been edited out. Even the fact that she'd been edited wasn't troubling.
Hesitantly she touched her Co-processor on its carapace, slightly fearful that she would activate the thing. To her surprise she found that she was feeling her touch as if it were her own skin... exactly like her new breasts.
The Co-processor's metallic eye-lid was half closed; the red eye underneath was inert. It looked for all the world as if it were sleeping. She wondered briefly what it saw when it was active; it wouldn't be like normal vision that was certain.
There was no disorientation or dizziness to warn her this time. One moment her two blue eyes were looking at her reflection; the next she was looking with all three.
A ranging grid superimposed itself and streams of alien text flowed down around the edges of her vision. Without even having to think about it she knew that the mirror was precisely 1324.551 millimetres above her and that glass it was made of had a refractive index of 0.02.
Intrigued she tried looking to her left, the grid and data vanished, instead she found that she had an extra window of perception. It was kind of like looking through binoculars and a telescope at the same time.
Tweaking it further she was delighted to find that she could look behind herself, see her brown hair and the back of her head where it rested on the pillow.
Of course having discovered the miracle of having access to a third eye, there was no way to turn it off again. Even closing it didn't help; all she got was range and composition data about her chrome plated titanium alloy eyelid.
She lay there for a further 5.522 minutes wondering when she'd get her orders. 'It'...whatever 'it' was, wouldn't have revived her for nothing.
In the end she lost patience and jumped off the bed and started pacing. She'd paced the length of the room twice before the uneasiness started, something wasn't right. She paced some more glancing occasionally at the bed. Something about the bed just irritated her.
Finally she walked back to it and straightened the metallic top sheet. Once the bed was back in order, the sense of unease passed and she felt a glow of satisfaction. To her surprise she found that the reward sensation was deep and erotic
"Clever bastard!" she muttered to herself and whatever was watching. Perhaps they were going to turn her into a domestic servant that got off on neatly arranged beds and polished floors.
Her IPS throbbed again and a pleasurable zap of electricity jolted her nipples.. She looked down fascinated to see the tiny static charges arcing around her nipple pins.
Apparently keeping things clean was to be rewarded with pleasure. Absentmindedly she began stroking her glistening abdomen and wondered what would happen next. What would the reward be for polishing the floor? She'd been awake for 11.827 minutes and still no purpose!
"Steph-an-ie" said a voice
Stephanie whirled around to face Raphaella's alcove "You can talk!"
"Ob-vi....Obviously, yes I am now able to be talking" replied the Raphaella her voice sounding more normal with every word.
Stephanie quickly scanned Raphaella's Co-processor with her third eye. The type 22 had been ordered to power down by its higher authority; leaving Raphaella totally free. Right now she was probably more her own woman than Stephanie was.
"You are looking different since last I am seeing you"
"Yeah, they detected that my Co-processor was busted and fitted me with this upgraded version" she replied caressing her cheek where her normal skin merged into her Co-processor's polished chrome casing. "I'm in the same boat as everyone else now"
"What about Felix? I am not remembering exactly what happened."
"He got injected with the breeder bio-agent, he's ...not... one of us any more."
Raphaella looked grim "I am knowing that his constant Pepsi jokes were a temptation to fate."
The two stood silently for 0.423 minutes remembering their lost friend.
"You can move out of your alcove if you want, your Co-processor's not going to stop you" advised Stephanie
Raphaella looked startled; it hadn't occurred to her that she was able to move for herself. Hesitantly she stepped clear, obviously expecting alarms to go off.
"You disabled it?" guessed Raphaella
"No. 'It' wants something from us. I don't know what though. It woke me 13.531 minutes ago but hasn't instructed me to do anything yet."
"13.531? That is quite precise is it not?"
Stephanie's eyes widened in surprise, she hadn't realized. It was obvious of course; She was tied to the operating system's clock.
"I guess I'm more modified than I thought."
"Stephanie, can you be helping me get this thing off? Once we get a few people free we can be doing some serious damage!"
"Yes, we could" agreed Stephanie, although she had no enthusiasm for destroying things, it would be untidy, and she was finding that untidiness made her increasingly uneasy.
"Well?"
"I think...I think its doing things to my mind, changing how I look at things. When I think about disrupting it's plans, its like the most boring thing I can imagine...I can't sustain any interest in it"
"So you are going to sell out? Let it win?" demanded Raphaella furiously
Stephanie's mind was in turmoil, what did she really want? She wouldn't think about resisting, there was deep unease around that thought, but she also owed Raphaella a debt. Most of all she wanted Raphaella to understand, how confused she was.
Her third eye glowed and shot a beam of laser light into Raphaella's inert Co-processor.
"What? What are you doing?"
Slowly the type 22 activated clenching tighter around Raphaella's head, powered by the beam emanating from Stephanie's robotic eye.
"I'm not sure. I think I'm communicating with you, with your Co-processor, that is. I think I'm transferring how I feel."
"I can feel it" replied Raphaella moving her hand to caress her Co-processor's shell. "Did getting cut open really feel that good?"
"Yes"
Glancing down Stephanie noted Raphaella's nipples getting hard...was the beautifully exotic girl imagining how it felt to be upgraded.
"Confirmed"
"You heard my thoughts?" she asked knowing the answer before she finished speaking
"They are my thoughts, I just feel exactly as you do. 'It' may have changed you, but it’s you that’s changed me...see, I'm even talking like you. Please close your eye Stephanie, I am in danger of becoming an exact copy of you."
Stephanie hastily closed her eyes. What had she done? Why had it felt so right, to edit and amend her friend?
"Can I touch?" asked Raphaella, moving her fingers to caress Stephanie's chrome plated breasts.
Stephanie gasped, it felt sooo good.
"I'm not a lesbian" she said, as much to remind herself as to tell Raphaella.
"Neither am I. But it feels like a long time since I last came" replied Raphaella, her mangled speech pattern fading to the extent that Stephanie thought that it was her voice saying the words not the Latino.
Stephanie wondered how long it had been and was surprised to find the answer floating just below the surface of her awareness.
"In your case 50471.358 minutes, about a month... ± 71.358 minutes"
Energy crackled around her nipples and her IPS clamp released its tight hold. Evidently the controlling intelligence approved of thoughts related to lesbian sex.
"I think It wants us to relieve each other" she informed Raphaella
"It does? or is that just an excuse?" smirked Raphaella
Instead of replying Stephanie opened her eye and fed the reply directly into Raphaella’s Co-processor.
"Oh! You are straight then. I guess it really does, well that’s nice of it, even if we are both straight."
Stephanie glanced down at Raphaella's naked crotch and felt disgust at the untidy tangle of pubic hair. "Well I'm not touching that until you've been permanently shaved"
Raphaella glanced down in surprise and then at Stephanie's clean hairless crotch a look of envy and embarrassment forming on her tanned face.
"Shave me" instructed Raphaella.
"I obey" Stephanie replied, the instruction might have come from Raphaella, but whatever it was that controlled them was into reinforcing correct behavior. Awareness that 8.500 minutes had just been assigned for pre-op cleaning floated just below her thoughts. The knowledge of exactly how to clean the girl and where the chemicals were stored became available to her 0.02 minutes later.
"Stand in the shower"
"The what? Oh...I see" Raphaella moved to the correct area, obviously directed by newly implanted information of her own.
Without really being aware of it, Stephanie found herself slipping into the actions required for a pre-op cleansing. One action followed the next in a pre-programmed sequence. Her active awareness wasn't required. 3.299 minutes later she became aware that she was knelt in front of Raphaella's soap covered crotch.
"Stephanie? Stephanie can you hear me?"
"Wha...? Yes. I hear you"
"You were zoned out there, not answering me. You ok?"
"Yes. That was weird. It was like how you can drive to work and then can't remember any details of the journey afterward."
With no signal from either of them the shower increased its pressure washing away the soap and taking Raphaella's pubic hair with it.
Stephanie felt her mouth watering and felt a need to lick and suck. This time she detected the artificiality of the emotion as if it had a metal tang to it.
"It just tried to make me want to use my tongue on you!"
"It did? Kinky fucking machine"
The sensation returned, stronger, more forceful, the mental taste of iron like the taste of blood.
"It really definitely wants me to do you. Its going to try convincing me to obey again in about 0.500 minutes...I don't think I can resist it a third time, Sorry love"
"Its Ok. I know its not you doing it" replied Raphaella sounding as if she were making a great noble sacrifice. “Its making me feel desperate for it too”
The surge of desire washed over her exactly on cue; this time Stephanie didn't reject it, accepting the thought as if it were her own. There was no metallic tang to it.
She probed the waiting lips touching the soft inner flesh with her tongue. There should have been a gag-reflex but that purely biological function had been disabled.
A pair of hands grabbed her head, one tangling in the hair behind her ear, the other cupping the carapace of her Co-processor.
She closed her eyes, so that she could focus on the sensations rather than the view. Instantly her Co-processor began displaying a 3D graphical overlay that spread across all three visual cortexes. She could see a wireframe representation of Raphaella's vagina and the Co-Processor probe within her aural manipulation zone.
Graphs, targeting reticules, sliders and something like forcefield level indicator flashed into existence next to the virtual vagina. With her right side organic eye she saw an array of arousal strategies, pre-programmed attack plans each with a projected arousal quotient and predicted time to orgasm next to it.
Eating Out: The Videogame?? It sure as hell beats playing SIMS: University.
She still wasn't a lesbian though, whatever 'it' wanted. Rebelliously she focused on the least-time/maximum-orgasm attack plan.
The ring of quadrants around the virtual vagina began flashing in sequence. Stephanie began to lick, her tongue touching its tip to each target area in turn. As soon as the last area was touched new targets appeared.
'Level two' she thought to herself, more difficult this; a rhythmic back-forward head motion with a cycle of 0.04minutes was required in order for her tongue to hit the required target quadrants.
Each consecutive level required more elaborate tongue twisting, head banging manoeuvres until finally it was 'level 8' and the 'end of game monster'...her finger slipped into Raphaella's pussy and gave the IPS nerve cluster a good poke.
The effect was something like hitting a big red nuke button. Everything went white for a second, the virtual graphic changing to include a cylindrical blue indicator like a fuel gauge. Rapidly the blue bar surged further up the display filling more of the virtual vagina’s length with its depiction of Raphaella’s orgasm.
She opened her eyes and pulled back looking up along Raphaella's smooth abdomen toward her pert breasts and dazed looking face.
"Fucking liar! No straight girl gives tongue that well" gasped Raphaella in a playfully accusatory tone.
"I..." Stephanie gave up, it would take too long to explain and she didn't want to damage Raphaella's persona with a further red-eye download. Besides it would be kinda cool to have Raphaella discover delights of that particular upgrade for herself. "...Lets just say there was more too it than that. And if I'd known you tasted that good I'd have been a lesbian years ago!"
Raphaella's lowerlips still glistened, Stephanie noticed. It looked untidy and tasty at the same time.
"Let me just get that for you" she said licking the shaved crotch thoroughly clean.
It was probably significant that Raphaella made no objection and didn't move to brush her away.
0.25 minutes later the shower ceased operation leaving the two girls glistening with moisture. Patiently they waited in silence for something to occur, neither feeling any particular need to communicate or do anything else. Slowly awareness faded from their eyes, waiting was a skill that they had alread mastered.
* * *
The Brothel reviewed data retrieved from both units, intrigued by the adaptability and malleability of this particular lifeform, by far the best it had encountered in recent millennia. No instinctively deployed poison sacs like species 14580, no ability to spontaneously regenerate redundant limbs like species 25141, and no inappropriate berserker behavior like species 40019.
In fact, species 84106 was far too valuable to just lose to natural wastage.
A trawler unit had already been sent back to retrieve some of the planet's non-sentient forms (The Customer's lengthening list of requirements included some unusual, and highly profitable requests), procuring a small breeding population would, cost little additional effort and provide quick replacements for units irreparably damaged by interaction with the customers.
* * *
Day 42
The Alpha Male sniffed the air; one of his females was coming into season. Instantly his body wanted her, he would dominate her, impress her with his power and then mate until she no longer smelled ready. He bounded across the field scattering the other females, hunting the ripe one.
The chase was short, the female knew her purpose, opening herself for him, guiding his vastly large fuck-thing into her moist hole.
Taking the female, brought some pleasure, but only a little, the act itself taking long enough to insert her stuff and no longer. In the dim recesses of her mind the mating lacked something that he was no longer able to name. It just wasn't the Big Fuck he dreamed of.
In his dreams he would confront a female strong like himself and prove his dominance over it, pin it down and, once it had accepted its fate, use its gloriously tight ass, the way all females were used, thrusting savagely whilst it grunted its pleasure and submission, the penetration would continue through light time and dark time and then another light time and dark time. His fantasy mate even had a name… Xena.
It was a surprisingly complex fantasy given the near toxic levels of hyper-testosterone burning in the Alpha-male's veins. That it had imagination enough to desire a specific partner at the moment of copulation indicated it had once had quite a sophisticated intellect.
The Alpha male sniffed the air again, this time smelling bad metal. Bad metal ...was bad... He couldn't remember why, but it was. Everytime he saw Bad Metal he would smash it, his females joining in adding to the frenzy. The Bad Metal was close, he would protect his females, summoning all his might he roared his challenge, causing the females to huddle together.
There! Scuttling through the grass! He pounced, grabbing the Bad Metal and twisting off its limbs.
He roared again, holding the broken Bad Metal above his head. Was he not strongest? Was he not the fittest, females should acknowledge how clever he was.
The females agreed that he was great and clustered around his tree trunk sized legs, the more daring ones sneakily trying to fondle and caress him.
The Capture Unit reported its impaired function, raised its remaining limb and expelled a cloud of inky black sedative.
The breeders were unconscious before they hit the ground.
Other Capture Units crawled up, fastening themselves to the breeders heads. Once securely interfaced the units stood the bodies up and marched them slowly toward the trawler, joining the queue behind several stallions, a zebra, three male lions and the Sidemore Petting Zoo's single surviving goat.
To be continued...
-
DollSpace
- Moderator
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- Joined: Tue Jun 11, 2002 6:27 pm
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- Identification: Android
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Chapter 4: Form and Function
Day 44
Unit 442569-4 returned to awareness state one. It was stood in the shower sector facing Unit 442569-3 ... (sub designation Raphaella). Scanning its date stamp it perceived that it had stood here for several thousand minutes.
The unit's last memory was a simulated customer interaction session, achieving orgasm in conjunction with Unit 442569-3. Raphaella...she's called Raphaella...and she's beautiful, whispered a ghostly voice within its processor.
< Purpose: Pre-op preparation of units 442569-1 and 442569-2. Time allocated 10.500 minutes. >
The alcoves hissed; the room's other two occupants were released ready for upgrade. Unit 442569-4 proceeded with its task lathering and removing un-necessary hair from the one of the units whilst 442569-3 did the same for the other.
After 4.558 minutes, Unit 442569-4 completed its task and reverted to stand-by mode; noting as it did so that Unit 442569-3 would take a further 2.302 minutes to complete its task.� Unit 442569-2 had been exceptionally hairy example of species 84106 (male Variant) and still had several quadrants requiring attention.
Stephanie blinked swaying on her feet, her muscles sending signals that she'd been standing in one position for way too long time.
She was standing in front of one of the room's other two occupants, her hands were wet with decontaminant and she had a vague memory of removing the girl's pubic.
In the shower Raphaella was busy cleaning the hair from an exceptionally hirsute boy. Both had their eyes closed, clearly under full Co-processor control.
The girl in front of her shifted her weight slightly; her eyes also closed but not locked tight as they would be if her Co-Processor were running things.
"Can you hear me?" she asked squeezing the girl's arm gently
All of the girl's eyes flashed open, even her Co-Processor's sensor cover retracting fully giving it an almost comical expression.
The girl backed away pressing herself against the wall a look of terror plain to see. Clearly the pure emotion was overloading the Type 22 Co-processor's ability to manipulate her.
"Easy! Calm down...No one's going to hurt you,â€
Day 44
Unit 442569-4 returned to awareness state one. It was stood in the shower sector facing Unit 442569-3 ... (sub designation Raphaella). Scanning its date stamp it perceived that it had stood here for several thousand minutes.
The unit's last memory was a simulated customer interaction session, achieving orgasm in conjunction with Unit 442569-3. Raphaella...she's called Raphaella...and she's beautiful, whispered a ghostly voice within its processor.
< Purpose: Pre-op preparation of units 442569-1 and 442569-2. Time allocated 10.500 minutes. >
The alcoves hissed; the room's other two occupants were released ready for upgrade. Unit 442569-4 proceeded with its task lathering and removing un-necessary hair from the one of the units whilst 442569-3 did the same for the other.
After 4.558 minutes, Unit 442569-4 completed its task and reverted to stand-by mode; noting as it did so that Unit 442569-3 would take a further 2.302 minutes to complete its task.� Unit 442569-2 had been exceptionally hairy example of species 84106 (male Variant) and still had several quadrants requiring attention.
Stephanie blinked swaying on her feet, her muscles sending signals that she'd been standing in one position for way too long time.
She was standing in front of one of the room's other two occupants, her hands were wet with decontaminant and she had a vague memory of removing the girl's pubic.
In the shower Raphaella was busy cleaning the hair from an exceptionally hirsute boy. Both had their eyes closed, clearly under full Co-processor control.
The girl in front of her shifted her weight slightly; her eyes also closed but not locked tight as they would be if her Co-Processor were running things.
"Can you hear me?" she asked squeezing the girl's arm gently
All of the girl's eyes flashed open, even her Co-Processor's sensor cover retracting fully giving it an almost comical expression.
The girl backed away pressing herself against the wall a look of terror plain to see. Clearly the pure emotion was overloading the Type 22 Co-processor's ability to manipulate her.
"Easy! Calm down...No one's going to hurt you,â€
-
DollSpace
- Moderator
- Posts: 2083
- Joined: Tue Jun 11, 2002 6:27 pm
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- Contact:
Chapter 5
Day 7040 - Final Approach, Carzoz Extraction Array.
Breeder Habitat
Felix yawned and rolled over onto his side, his cock brushed against pussy lips still dribbling with his cum. Still half asleep he began thrusting again, swiftly coming to completion and adding fresh cum to her pussy.
Sated and fully awake he stumbled to his feet, sniffing the air. The females were all still asleep, even the one he'd just fucked.
He sighed with relief; thinking was easier to do when there wasn't any pussy needing fuck. He'd learned over the years that it helped if he thought about what he knew, reminding himself of… stuff.
He was The Felix! That was his name. He had been somewhere else and had been smarter a long time ago. He lived in a field and forest glade, and there were walls, with a struggle he was able to guess that beyond the hard surface there was another place, probably more fields. He hated the females, He'd always dreamed of another female to fuck, a specific one, the females made him stupid; it became impossible to think of the special one when they were awake.
< food > said the headvoice
He sighed, the headvoice's instruction to eat would have awoken the sleeping females, and once he'd scoffed it down he'd be too busy fucking to think things.
His sensitive nostrils flared, fresh blood, it was meat-day, he liked meat-day.... meat took longer to eat; he would be able to think for a few precious extra moments.
He felt rage! Things should be different. He had only a hazy idea of what he wanted, but the growing need to smash something was simple and immediate enough for his mind to cope with.
The Co-processor attached to the male breeder unit was considerably less advanced than that attached to the Standard Pleasure Units, with more of its bulk dedicated anti-tamper armour and only minimal physical bio-monitoring. Had it had access to psychological monitoring routines it would have been sending intervention alerts for the last 512 days.
But the co-processor was attached to a sub-specie 84106-b and as long as its unit was eating and breeding its routines considered everything to be nominal.
* * *
Day 7041
Stephanie 442569-4 activated in the way she always did, spending 2.000 minutes editing her personal awareness before dropping into autonomic mode to do the tasks that didn't require emotion or thought.
Unlike the early days, there was no need for The Brothel's Central Intellect to take control in order to get things done, she knew her function now and understood when self-awareness was appropriate and when not.
Once the shower and room cleaning were complete she resumed full awareness and inspected her pleasure group. Several hundred days ago the other three had been upgraded so that the only difference between them was their faces.... small individual differences were attractive to Customers allowing for the illusion that they were dealing with individual sentients.
Inspecting herself she was pleased to see that the nanobots that had been injected 9,204,258.500 minutes ago had fully replaced her skin with a lustrous layer of shiny gold.
Checking her memory core she noted that her new skin had extra functions, principally increased touch sensitivity, but also a chameleon circuit and the ability to generate simulated fur or reptiloid scales.
Experimentally she ordered copper coloured racing stripes to form on her arms with her price and bar code tastefully displayed on the back of her hand.
Unusually, the rest of the Pleasure Group remained dormant. Checking her task manager, she discovered that she was scheduled for a prototype lower abdominal upgrade.
Activating the flat codpiece plate that covered her genitalia and held her IPS ready for deployment, she watched as its doors retracted allowing her original labia to deploy with beautiful precision.
She felt nostalgic, she'd had those lips since.... since... before she'd been activated. Naturally the upgraded version would be better, but she couldn't help having an emotional attachment to the old set.
Naturally The Brothel had anticipated this reaction; it was getting better at predicting the mental programming requirements of Units constructed from Species 84106.
Stephanie 442569-4 received an update...a feeling of utter confidence, a reminder that she was of The Brothel and that anything that enhanced her rental value was a gift to be treasured.
Retracting her labia she snapped her cover closed. She was already 0.502 minutes late, and would need to increase speed to a jog in order to meet Ak'kkt 2873924-1, the Surgical Unit assigned to most of their upgrades.
* * *
Ak'kkt 2873924-1 checked its operating system's time setting, 442569-4 had only 1.300 minutes before it was late.
Ak'kkt 2873924-1 hoped that this didn't indicate a loss of function within the young unit. It had become quite fond of 442569-4, especially as it usually arrived early in order to practice its oon'tal techniques on its vestigial gaak'tal. It had even shared its species designated identifier. The sharing of species designated identifier was a truly intimate gesture; very few Pleasure Units would have allocated that much self-awareness to a simple Surgical Unit.
Slightly out of breath 442569-4 arrived.
"Sorry Ak'kkt 2873924-1, processing the impending loss of its original Internal Pleasure Organ caused this unit some distress."
Ak'kkt 442569-4 gurfed its varlix in sympathy, the permanent removal of its own reproductive tract 250x1015 minutes ago had once been a cause of distress. In this instance however there was some good news for the prototype Pleasure Unit.
"Your emotional trauma is not necessary Steff-un-ee 442569-4. This is a test of optional chassis prototypes. Your original chassis will be retained so that your customers have a choice of configurations." assured the Surgical Unit "Stand between the markers over there and deploy your secondary stabilizers"
Stephanie 442569-4 obeyed standing in the centre of what appeared to be a painted 'X'. Until 0.500 minutes ago she had not been aware that she had any secondary stabilizers, now that the Surgical Unit had mentioned them the knowledge of what they were and which muscle clench pattern would deploy them came to her at instinct level.
With a hiss four secondary stabilizer arms telescoped out from the upper half of her abdominal joint deploying so that they lined up with the 'X' on the floor, the plug-like tips slotting into sockets in the floor and locking into place like flying buttresses around a cathedral.
As soon as the stabilizer clamps were firmly attached, she felt an uncontrollable urge to release her bowels...an odd sensation; she had not actually used her intestinal tract that way for longer than she cared to remember.
It was clear however that the sensation was her mind's way of interpreting what her body was actually doing. Looking down she was slightly surprised to see that her legs and lower abdomen had knelt down with legs wide apart providing a stable resting position.
The gap between the two faces of her torso joint was now 1000mm, the laser-nerves connecting her two halves looking like the bars of some hi-tech cage.
Had this happened 7000 days (or as Stephanie perceived it 10,080,000.ooo minutes) earlier, she might have ceased to function due to shock or terror. But she was a different unit now, she knew her place, her function, and the competence of her Brothel's controlling intelligence. The process was intellectually intriguing, nothing more.
A bizarre little unit approached. It appeared to be a large snake's (non-sentient) head its entire body replaced by a small service pack and six spider-like legs all done in a tasteful bronze colour.
The snake unit climbed quickly onto the flat upper surface of her lower half, plugging its legs into six holes clearly intended for the purpose. Instantly she lost all feeling below the waist. The lasers that had supplied her with nerve-data had refocused onto the snakehead unit's metal carapace.
Without any signal from herself, her secondary stabilizers extended further increasing the distance between her upper and lower torso components to 2000 millimetres.
As soon as she was repositioned, the snakehead got to its/her feet and walked them, zombie-like, over to a standard alcove.
"Select a new chassis,� instructed the Surgical Unit lighting up three darkened alcoves.
The first alcove contained approximately 15metres of anaconda-like snake, the unit’s body as wide as her torso, coiled neatly like a rope on a sailing ship. Clearly it had once been the other half of the Snake-head Unit. At the top of the pile where a head should be, the snake body ended suddenly in a connection interface that mirrored her own disconnected joint.
The second alcove contained a zebra, the third a lion, both chopped off at the neck with laser nerve control beaming down from above. Clearly the lasers maintained the chassis without need of the non-sentient heads.
"You have got to be kidding! A Zebra?!" she muttered, instantly feeling embarrassed by such a disorderly response.
"Activating Chassis Two" announced Ak'kkt, taking the confused communication as a choice designation.
The Zebra body took slow precise steps forward walking around until it was in position directly under her torso.
Stephanie 442569-4 felt the need to clench her currently missing anus, and complied with the need. Feeling resumed, first just the rear legs and genitalia.... very large genitalia, suited to pleasure probes far larger than the primitive component with which her origin species had been equipped.... And then, slowly, came a pins and needles sensation and the odd feeling that she was growing an extra pair of arms.
The new arms/forelegs felt odd, as if she was doing a push-up with only the tip of her forefinger and middle finger touching the ground.
"Feedback required"
"The extra limbs feel like arms instead of extra legs."
The surgical unit twisted a control and the sensation of oddness faded until it was invisible and then increased again this time feeling like she'd grown extra butt cheeks.
"Return the setting to the position it was at 0.027 minutes ago." Advised Stephanie 442569-4
The surgical unit complied and the chassis responses merged with normality again.
"Nervous systems aligned" Stephanie 442569-4 shaking her head slightly and sniffing the air through nostrils that no longer felt sensitive enough.
"Prepare for release of support frame...release"
Stephanie 442569-4 staggered slightly flicking her tail in surprise and stepping forward slightly. Although it all felt natural she still had no clue how to walk or run beyond the instinct level placement of feet allowing her to stay upright.
Hesitantly she took a step forward and had to hastily correct her stance.
'I must look like a newborn colt' she thought feeling a high level of enthusiasm.
21.275 minutes later she was fully competent on the chassis and able to gallop full speed around Concourse 44000.
After the experience with Chassis two, she found that Chassis three and four were easy to adapt to, each having its own quirks.
The large penis grafted to the end of the snake tail, for instance, took some getting used to. It hadn't formed part of the donor creature and therefore hadn't had any built in software to connect to, nor had she ever been equipped with such a component. Learning to re-route her existing orgasm routines through the new component had been both intellectually and physically stimulating.
A final bonus had been a new pair of arms, totally alien in origin, each arm consisting of five tentacles each tipped with a permanently erect dildo. Unlike the chassis, the tentacle attachments had a durable gold casing that matched her own polished skin.
She walked back to her group's room feeling like Christmas and birthday had just come, leading a line of chassis that followed behind her like a string of ducklings. Being prototype was a really special function and she glowed with love for her Brothel, thanking it for its gifts.
As she approached her group's room, she felt massive anticipation, her zebra-equine vagina becoming moist along its full 2500 millimetre length, She longed to have the rest of her Pleasure Group experiment on her.
She had no concern that the ex-zebra vagina would be too large; Pleasure Units were programmed to be adaptable, able to bring any designated Customer (or Simulated Customer) to shuddering orgasm.
The Surgical Unit had arranged to test her chassis with a simulated Species 77114 cock complete with a tank-tracked support unit, making it look like something her memory labelled as a nuclear missile carrier; she'd actually felt fear until she realized that she had already taken 2100 millimetres of its length into her.
Reaching room 442569 she sent a signal to the others, activating them.
The three glistening gold Pleasure Units stepped forward in unison, standing at parade rest until they had each achieved full awareness.
The first sign that they were fully functional was a widening of the eyes, followed by a speculative look. Stephanie 442569-4 didn't need a beam connection to extrapolate what they were thinking, they were Pleasure Units, there was really only one thing that they would be thinking about.
"Simulating Customer Acquisition. Target designate Stephanie 442569-4. What do you think Units? A type 74a/45 in combination with a 544f and a 15c?" Suggested Raphaella 442569-3
Henrietta 442569-1 and Eric 442569-2 gazed knowledgably and nodded acceptance, taking up position.
After a quick beamed conference Henrietta 442569-1 prepared to give the type 554f blowjob, (her favorite role) Eric 442569-2 deploying her hand into a fist ready for a type 15a penetration and Raphaella 442569-3 moving close for type 74a foreplay followed by the presentation of her labia for Stephanie 442569-4 to penetrate with her tongue.
Stephanie 442569-4 smiled; her Pleasure Group knew exactly which routines would normally produce a long, maximum strength, orgasm scenario and were applying a version adapted to take advantage of her new chassis.
A swift tactical analysis indicated she should respond with a type 88i, a C2-07 and a C2-54c.
Raphaella 442569-3's hand caressed her fore-crotch, the black and white furred flat spot where normally her access port would have been. The area might never have had a vagina, but the flesh was still sensitive to the expert caress that trailed upward to her secondary nipples and then further to her primary nipple rings. Energy crackled between her primary nipple rings and Raphaella 442569-3's golden finger, causing her to gasp in pleasure.
Behind her, she heard the hydraulic hiss as Eric 442569-2's fist morphed into a simulated erection. Helpfully Stephanie 442569-4 raised her tail and tightened around Eric’s forearm. so that the penetration would be tight and slick for a species 84106 like Eric 442569-2.
One definite benefit of this particular chassis was its extensive Internal Manipulation Array. She could take a cock the size of a tree trunk, and the volume previously dedicated to the ex-herbivore's five stomachs had been given over to a vast processing capacity. That capacity allowed her to manipulate a thrusting of the simulated cock with near infinite precision.
She began manipulating, her internal muscles dancing the erotic equivalent of a piano concerto along the arm’s length, squeezing it sequentially in a way that would have rendered a true Customer nearly non-functional with pleasure.
* * *
The Felix had had enough. There was no trigger event, no break in his routine or change in the number of females he was forced to fuck during that morning.
Picking up one of the fake-trees he began smashing, starting where he was stood and moving in the general direction of the feeding place. The co-processor tried to intervene but the breeding unit's thought processes were no longer compatible with it.
Analysis would reveal that it was purely genetic. This variant of sub-species 84106-b had a finite limit to the amount of time it could go without male-female interaction with a specific unit of sub-species 84106-a before a berserk incident occurred.
1.947 minutes later the sub-species 84106-b male disconnected itself from the network after repeatedly impacting its cranial housing against bulkhead 457-512 (frame 1004).
In effect the sub-species 84106-b male had vanished. The Brothel normally relied upon the cameras housed in its various units to provide surveillance. Unfortunately 99.8% of those units were powered down to save energy during its journey to The Customers
.... and The Brothel was vast. Designed to cater for up to 20% of a standard customer planet's population at any given time (in an environment of luxurious excess), the rogue unit could be literally anywhere.
The energy required to institute dedicated pest control measures were prohibitive.
Allowing the rogue unit to simply run loose was also out of the question. The rogue unit was omnivorous and still had basic non-sentient level reasoning capacity; once it became hungry enough there was a 78.5% probability that it would begin eating units...or worse... Customers.
The Brothel definitely didn't want a repeat of that particular fiasco.
Reviewing its options The Brothel concluded that Re-tasking its supply of currently active Pleasure Units would be a sufficient counter-measure. The only problem was finding a way to emulate intruder elimination routines within the somewhat limited software of a Pleasure Unit.
Fortunately some of the more extreme sado-masochistic pleasures it had been asked to perform on the now extinct Species 000145, were surprisingly similar to those that some Customer species used for pest control.
* * *
Stephanie 442569-4 had completed 78.4% of her C2-54c of Raphaella 442569-3's cock when the disengage signal arrived.
Immediately she switched to a C2-002g, giving Raphaella 442569-3 a single orgasm-inducing caress. Given the time constraint it was the best she could do.
< Customer detected... Classification BDSM-Vore Submissive. Seek. Locate.
Seduce. Terminate. Safety lockouts deactivated >
Group 442569 acknowledged the order and began the search for their first customer; leaving the un-used snake and lion chassis to stagger blindly to toward the alcoves.
* * *
Day 7047
Felix glanced around the chamber, sniffing, the aliens had not been here in some time and the running water. Water was exactly what she needed. He'd been on the run for quite a while, he could remember sleeping at least five times, which, without changes in the light levels, he figured meant at least five days. Further back than that, and his memory got hazy and a bit simplistic.
It seemed obvious that he'd been drugged, and that without fresh doses his mind was returning to normal. He had no idea how long he'd been doped, but judging by his pumped up Incredible-Hulk physique and the easy way in which he moved, it had to have been a long time.
He didn't bother fiddling with the faucet. It was simpler to just snap the pipe and drink directly. He might have got his mind back but his instincts still tended toward the simplest solution.
"Felix smash!" he giggled shoving his head into the fountaining water and then opening his mouth to gulp it down.
Once his immediate need for water was sated he took time to look around his location, the walls were covered in a series of pods. Each pod contained an androgenous youth. The pods seemed to be sorted by age of occupant, with kids at one end and older youths toward the other.
All the boys had curly strawberry blond hair, oddly large nipples and a dainty cleft chin...not unlike his own. He frowned, he knew he was missing something, but his mind wasn't quite up to joining the dots. Toward the far end of the chamber there was another difference, the sleeping adolescents had increasingly yellowish skin, with the very oldest having skin that glistened like polished gold and what might be the beginnings of pert breasts.
The youths didn't interest him...but the perfection of the golden ones was almost too much to bear, worse the might-be breasts reminded him of females, and fucking. Moving to the far end where the most mature ones were housed he selected a nice looking one and hammered at the transparent surface. The wild simple part of him wanted to fuck and the thoughtful part smiled viciously at the thought of one of his captors taking his massive length right to the hilt.
A slight sound at the kiddy end of the room caused his head to snap around. Hurriedly he leapt back up to the air duct he'd emerged from, and swung back out of sight. He cursed himself for letting herself get distracted that way and yet he hesitated wanting to observe.
Despite his reawakened intellect the instincts that had once caused him to protect his herd of females were still fully active and beginning to focus upon 'his' goldenboy/girl, his modified libido becoming harder to ignore, his thoughts slipping back toward his desperate and simplistic need for sex.
* * *
The room was as much a surprise to Stephanie 442569 as it had been to Felix. She hadn't thought about her origin species in a long time. At some level she knew that she was one of several hundred million fully trained Pleasure Units recruited at the same planet, and that The Brothel would have had the foresight to provide for replacement units. She'd just not expected to see any of them.
She'd sort of assumed that should extra units ever be required they would just appear in the group's room fully functional and ready to fuck. She was, after all, a Pleasure Unit and not expected to care about support functions; dealing with technicalities was some other unit's problem.
At the mid point of the chamber a damaged faucet gushed water. Her eyes narrowed, The Customer had been here recently. Quickly she merged with the central intelligence relaying her discovery to her fellow hunters.
The others were to circle in toward her position in theory driving the customer back to the chamber. Aside from fulfilling her mission this plan allowed her 15.500 minutes during which she could investigate these fantastic new units.
At the far end of the chamber one of the pods expelled steam and began to open, its transparent housing crazed by some heavy impact. Fascinated she walked toward the pod, swishing her tail in excitement.
A freshly birthed Pleasure Unit staggered forth.
Based upon her knowledge of the origin species Stephanie 442569 estimated that it had been grown to the physical equivalent of an 18 year old.
It lacked the implants and Co-Processor of an operational Pleasure Unit and looked a bit gangly, lacking muscle tone (presumably from lack of physical exercise). Shoulder length curly red hair hung damp and untidy. Clearly the damage to its pod had caused it to be released early, but only slightly.
She was relieved to note that the unit already had good vacuum resistant gold skin, fully upgraded genital component capable of several internal and external configurations. A distinct improvement on the basic specs for that species Stephanie 442569-4 thought.
The new unit staggered slightly, clearly unfamiliar with standing on her own without central intelligence’s guiding presence.
"I....?" it said, clearly uncertain.
Finally mastering the art of standing the unit began turning in a slow circle clearly fascinated by its surroundings.
After turning through 211.41° it finally noticed her presence. The Unit's eyes widened and its genitalia immediately adapted to Stephanie’s evident femininity forming a glistening golden cock that immediately sprang to attention. Instead of speaking the unit opened the third eye in the centre of its forehead, and set up a beam-link.
Stephanie 442569-4 had just enough time to realize that the new unit had its Co-processor internally mounted before being swamped by the new Unit's unconditional love.
As soon as the wave of love had reduced to more manageable levels, she was able to analyze what had just happened. The new unit was programmed to imprint on the first unit that it encountered adopting it as a mentor-template.
The new unit was not the only one altered by the beam link however. Hardwired routines within her own mind had also been activated. Stephanie 442569-4 found her Functions were immediately and automatically reprioritized, hunting the customer was no longer a priority. Care for, and training of the new pleasure unit now had total priority.
"I.... I am 442569-5" said the new Pleasure Unit in an endearingly uncertain voice.
"Do you have another name?"
"I do not believe so...am I malfunctioning? This event is not proceeding according to the data in my Birth Guidance Download? Where is the Surgical Unit? Where are the rest of our function group?" replied 442569-5 sounding nervous that reality wasn't as well organized as it had grown up believing.
"Your activation was unplanned"
"Oh!...should I deactivate?"
"No!" replied Stephanie 442569-4 hastily, 442569-5 had just offered to kill itself. "Plans will be amended to take advantage of your presence."
442569-5 smiled happily and changed its leg skin so that it had zebra-like copper stripes like her new mentor. "Good! I like being active...why is your genital component different? My data indicates we are of the same origin species? I extrapolate that we should be near identical"
"Well observed 442569-5. This chassis is one of several available to group 442569.... my default genitalia is similar to yours although with somewhat less functionality. I extrapolate that you are capable of simulating either variant of our origin species"
"Like this?" asked 442569-5, Its boyish chest morphing to form exceptionally full breasts, its cock dismantling, the sub-components forming the lips of burnished gold at the entrance to its internal pleasure component.
"Yes exactly like that... you definitely appear to be a more advanced model"
442569-5 pulled a face and and retracted her breasts to a slightly smaller perkier configuration that suited her physique perfectly. "I like it better this way"
"Of course you do! You are a Pleasure Unit, what Pleasure Unit wouldn't want to show off her best assets."
"I am within normal parameters?" asked 442569-5 eager for compliments
"I believe so. Please perform a basic customer seduction pose 001a. I want to see how much of our task specific data you have got pre-installed."
"Like this?" asked 442569-5 taking up an extremely erotic hand on hip pose, her other hand fiddling suggestively with her nipple.
* * *
A red mist descended over Felix’s mind 'his' female was trying to attract a rival mate. That the offender appeared to be an alien centauroid was beyond his mind's ability to be more enraged about.
He launched himself from his hiding place. First he would smash the rival and then he would prove to the female that she belonged to Felix.
* * *
Stephanie 442569-4 heard the crash of the life support duct's grill and began to turn. Vast meaty hands grabbed the two halves of her abdominal joint and pulled.
There was a tortured metal sound and the smell of burned electronics. A second later she lost all sensation below her joint and found herself bouncing down the room like a stone sent skipping across a lake.
At the other end of the room her Zebra Chassis slumped lifelessly against the floor.
A massive Customer towered over 442569-5 nearly 700 millimeteres taller and 553 millimeteres wider at the shoulder than the new unit.
The Customer was of Species 84106, but altered, its musculature vastly oversized in a brutal powerful way...it was what she'd once nicknamed a Pepsi-head. But what was it doing here? That variant was supposed to have been left behind to repopulate planet 84106-3!
By some odd quirk its mane of coarse wild hair was the same colour as 442569-5's. Stephanie 442569-4 had the nagging feeling that the fact was significant but couldn't spare any of her disorganized memory capacity to follow it up.
First priority was to assess her own functionality. Aside from concussive disruption to her organic CPU, there was minor damage to her chassis connection. Other than the fact that her legs weren’t attached everything was easily repairable.
More importantly, without legs, she was clearly less un-attractive to the Customer. Unfortunately the other members of 442569 would not arrive for several minutes. Clearly they would not be able to service the Customer either. A message sent through the Controlling Intellect requested the other 442569s to give priority increased speed
* * *
442569-5 retreated slowly glancing in shock at the two halves of its mentor-unit and then back at the...the thing... approaching it.
< Increase speed to rendezvous @ location 152441, 486214, 154400>
Checking its GPS, 442569-5 was confused to realize that it was already at the designated 3dimenional cube-coordinated. The message was clearly intended for other members of its assigned group. It was all very strange; this was the first time it had heard the Control Voice say things not directed at it in person.
The thing approached, one meaty hand rubbing its meter long genital appendage, muttering something that did not parse into coherent language.
442569-5 glanced toward the part of her mentor unit that contained her CPU, trying to catch its eye and beam-link. Unfortunately she had her third eye closed and was unable to receive the request for guidance.
"gonnafuckya" muttered the thing grabbing one of Its wrists and pinning it to the wall, the creature’s other hand continuing to self-gratify.
In desperation 442569-5 reverted to vocalization "Stephanie 442569-4, what should I do?"
The thing grabbed Its other hand immobilizing It, the rancid head leaning close kissing and biting at Its exposed neck.
"442569-5! It is a Customer! Request a BDSM-V Dominant download and implement immediately,� shouted her mentor unit struggling upright so that it could use its hands as feet.
442569-5 obeyed, gaining instant insight into The Customer's requirements. The teeth nibbling at Its…no..Her… Her neck, were not an attempt to cause dysfunction after all; it was merely the customer's preferred foreplay method.
The Customer profile indicated that it she was required to take and enjoy whatever damage the Customer cared to inflict and then prove herself 10% more capable in each area tested.
Quickly she mentally toggled her pleasure/pain perception so that the passionate bites switched from feeling bad to rather good and reconfigured her physique so that it appeared weaker and more archetypally feminine.
442569-5 had felt neither pain nor pleasure before...she found that it was actually quite enjoyable.
Reviewing her response options she decided to reciprocate with a love-bite type 032 aimed at the engorged nipple that was roughly at eye level.
The Customer roared and grabbed her by the throat forcing her down toward its fist-sized cockhead.
Clearly she was intended to perform orally. Swiftly scanning the size parameters with her central eye she concluded that she should dislocate her jaw and cease breathing in order to aid with insertion.
Once the cock was firmly in place she began giving it a simple 254c as the customer savagely tried to get its entire length into her oral pleasure component.
She was over 75.4% through the procedure before she realized her error. Her current scenario was compliant with BDSM variant: Submissive. She should be using the variation: Dominant.
"Gonna fuck yo ass!" grunted the customer; this time it's communication function was almost intelligible.
442569-5 disengaged from the customer's cock and configured her facial expression into what her data indicated was 'polite but firm dominance'
"You are incorrect. This unit will apply delayed orgasm hand relief until you beg for release." 442569-5 advised the customer calmly
The customer reverted to sub-sentient communication and roared, trying to push 442569-5's head back down, clearly demanding the completion of the final 25.6% of its blowjob.
442569-5 simply locked her neck muscles in place. Nothing the customer could do would now bend her. In a fast move she twisted her wrists out of the customer's vice like grip and gripped its wrists in turn applying 5% greater pressure than had been applied to her own wrists.
The customer smiled savagely and applied its full strength to releasing itself. Data indicated that the BDSM submissive required the hope of dominance until its final submission proved inevitable.
Dutifully she allowed the customer to break free of her grip and move to take her in a wrestling hold intended to allow the customer access to her internal pleasure centres.
She was beginning to actually enjoy her interaction with the customer. Being an activated Pleasure Unit was so much better than being pre-functional and just standing there growing.
Accessing her data on pre-insertion wrestling she concluded that lubrication would allow for increased pleasure for both herself and the customer. Activating her sweat glands she generated a 2micron thick film of oil that soon transferred to the customer's skin leaving them both as slippery as......
442569-5 pondered on the thought process, she had nothing to compare the slippery state too. The original data had indicated '...as an Eel' but 442569-5 had no download on what an Eel might be. Discarding the random thought she refocused her attention on the joy of being held tightly in the customers firm and passionate grip.
For a moment her vision was obscured by the customer's vein ribbed pectoral array, when significant optical data was once again available she noted the presence of three additional Pleasure Units. Clearly these were the rest of her Pleasure Group. One tended to her broken mentor, the second examined the mentor's inert chassis and the third attempted a beam connect.
The data transfer was brief due to the Customer's increasingly energetic struggles. The Raphaella 442569-3 unit was concerned about potential damage to her functions, but would not interfere.
Protocols regarding customer interaction were quite precise. Only The Customer could request additional pleasure. 442569-5, was therefore on her own. She was unused to having emotions and was surprised to find herself very possessive of the brutal customer and was quite relieved that the rest of her pleasure group would not interfere.
She decided that it was time to express her final dominance over her Customer. Slithering around onto the Customer's back she wrapped her legs around the customer's bulging thighs, her hand circling its erection.
The Customer's powerful arms might interfere with her pleasure giving and should therefore be disabled. Running the fingers of her other hand up the customer’s spine, she located the spinal nerve cluster she required, a swift jab quickly numbed the customer’s arms, leaving them hanging loose and dysfunctional at his sides. She leaned close and whispered in the customer's ear.
"Resistance is futile, Customer. Your genital pleasure functions are mine"
The Customer tried to move, grunting with the effort as his purely organic muscles strained against 442569-5's slim technologically enhanced arms.
"I will now proceed to massage your penis. Once you reach a pre-determined arousal level I will initiate a caress that will culminate in your final submission and simultaneous ejaculatory emission,� she informed in what she hoped was a helpful and cheerful tone.
The Customer clenched his muscles clearly intending this action as a preventative measure. It seemed clear to 442569-5 that the move was totally inadequate and was an indication that The Customer was complying with her stated action plan.
Now it was time to experience her first ever Customer-Orgasm and she was still having trouble with her new emotions. Before her activation emotion had just been something theoretical, now she was feeling nervous and anticipatory. Savoring every moment she began the slow inexorable caress.
As anticipated the customer's defence was totally ineffective against her pre-programmed expertise. With a groan the Customer relaxed, no longer straining against the muscle lock. 442569-5 felt her emotions surging out of control; this was the best moment of her existence! This was her purpose! Desperately she fought to control the urge to orgasm uncontrollably and conformed to the optimal plan that she'd been intending to follow.
The sensors in her genital component tasted the endorphin levels surging through the customer. Her uncoordinated caress had placed the customer 0.502 minutes away from ejaculation instead of the 4.010 minutes she'd intended to give him.
At this point it was tactically more efficient to continue with the orgasm rather than slow down.
"I lied. You're going to orgasm right now" she whispered in the customer's ear.
Extending her tongue she gave the customer's ear a lick and then inserted it into her ear. The circuit complete she discharged; pouring modulated electrical signals from her hand through the Customer's nervous system to the receiver contact installed in the tip of her tongue.
Getting a purely organic CPU to interface correctly with a properly integrated cybernetic CPU was always a risky business prone to failure. Fortunately The Brothel had extensive experience with this particular organic unit type and millennia of data on other pure organics.
The viral instruction that 442569-5 discharged was a variant of the standard full body orgasm amended so that it imposed order and submission on the rogue breeder's mind.
The customer's back arched and orgasmic fluid spattered the floor, it groaned once and then collapsed.
442569-5 rested on top of the warm body for 3.128 minutes, experiencing the afterglow of receiving payment. With considerable reluctance she untangled herself and stood unsteadily.
Glancing down she noted some organic stains marring her polished gold surface. Embarrassed she initiated her disinfectant and cleaning function, her body reverting to its neutral genderless form.
Slowly the ex-customer began to stir, its physique designed for incredible resilience.
"Unit 442569-6 reporting.... I am in need of upgrade,� said the ex-customer in a clear precise voice.
The unit that 442569-5's memory indicated was Eric 442569-2 moved to take the hulking unit by the hand clearly assigned the task of guiding it to a cleaning booth for preparation.
Remembering her mentor's damaged condition 442569-5's face blushed bright copper, quickly she dashed over to Stephanie 442569-4's torso section.
"Are you functional Stephanie 442569-4?" she asked kneeling close.
"Only minor damage 442569-5...." the damaged unit pondered her for a short time "442569-5 you need a personal designation...customers prefer the illusion that we are individuals like them"
442569-5 didn't have a clue what personal designator she should have. In the end she decided to search her memory of her source species. During her growth she'd been given access to the erotica of her origin species. It was important that newly produced units have knowledge of at least one culture's interactions.
"I choose to be Cupid 442569-5"
"Any particular reason, it is an unusual name for one of our origin species?"
"When I was being grown I particularly enjoyed a fiction called Cupid Boy. It is the name of a unit from that."
The other Pleasure units seemed to blank for a moment, clearly accessing the fiction. As one they smiled and nodded, clearly her choice of personal designation was appropriate.
To be continued...
Day 7040 - Final Approach, Carzoz Extraction Array.
Breeder Habitat
Felix yawned and rolled over onto his side, his cock brushed against pussy lips still dribbling with his cum. Still half asleep he began thrusting again, swiftly coming to completion and adding fresh cum to her pussy.
Sated and fully awake he stumbled to his feet, sniffing the air. The females were all still asleep, even the one he'd just fucked.
He sighed with relief; thinking was easier to do when there wasn't any pussy needing fuck. He'd learned over the years that it helped if he thought about what he knew, reminding himself of… stuff.
He was The Felix! That was his name. He had been somewhere else and had been smarter a long time ago. He lived in a field and forest glade, and there were walls, with a struggle he was able to guess that beyond the hard surface there was another place, probably more fields. He hated the females, He'd always dreamed of another female to fuck, a specific one, the females made him stupid; it became impossible to think of the special one when they were awake.
< food > said the headvoice
He sighed, the headvoice's instruction to eat would have awoken the sleeping females, and once he'd scoffed it down he'd be too busy fucking to think things.
His sensitive nostrils flared, fresh blood, it was meat-day, he liked meat-day.... meat took longer to eat; he would be able to think for a few precious extra moments.
He felt rage! Things should be different. He had only a hazy idea of what he wanted, but the growing need to smash something was simple and immediate enough for his mind to cope with.
The Co-processor attached to the male breeder unit was considerably less advanced than that attached to the Standard Pleasure Units, with more of its bulk dedicated anti-tamper armour and only minimal physical bio-monitoring. Had it had access to psychological monitoring routines it would have been sending intervention alerts for the last 512 days.
But the co-processor was attached to a sub-specie 84106-b and as long as its unit was eating and breeding its routines considered everything to be nominal.
* * *
Day 7041
Stephanie 442569-4 activated in the way she always did, spending 2.000 minutes editing her personal awareness before dropping into autonomic mode to do the tasks that didn't require emotion or thought.
Unlike the early days, there was no need for The Brothel's Central Intellect to take control in order to get things done, she knew her function now and understood when self-awareness was appropriate and when not.
Once the shower and room cleaning were complete she resumed full awareness and inspected her pleasure group. Several hundred days ago the other three had been upgraded so that the only difference between them was their faces.... small individual differences were attractive to Customers allowing for the illusion that they were dealing with individual sentients.
Inspecting herself she was pleased to see that the nanobots that had been injected 9,204,258.500 minutes ago had fully replaced her skin with a lustrous layer of shiny gold.
Checking her memory core she noted that her new skin had extra functions, principally increased touch sensitivity, but also a chameleon circuit and the ability to generate simulated fur or reptiloid scales.
Experimentally she ordered copper coloured racing stripes to form on her arms with her price and bar code tastefully displayed on the back of her hand.
Unusually, the rest of the Pleasure Group remained dormant. Checking her task manager, she discovered that she was scheduled for a prototype lower abdominal upgrade.
Activating the flat codpiece plate that covered her genitalia and held her IPS ready for deployment, she watched as its doors retracted allowing her original labia to deploy with beautiful precision.
She felt nostalgic, she'd had those lips since.... since... before she'd been activated. Naturally the upgraded version would be better, but she couldn't help having an emotional attachment to the old set.
Naturally The Brothel had anticipated this reaction; it was getting better at predicting the mental programming requirements of Units constructed from Species 84106.
Stephanie 442569-4 received an update...a feeling of utter confidence, a reminder that she was of The Brothel and that anything that enhanced her rental value was a gift to be treasured.
Retracting her labia she snapped her cover closed. She was already 0.502 minutes late, and would need to increase speed to a jog in order to meet Ak'kkt 2873924-1, the Surgical Unit assigned to most of their upgrades.
* * *
Ak'kkt 2873924-1 checked its operating system's time setting, 442569-4 had only 1.300 minutes before it was late.
Ak'kkt 2873924-1 hoped that this didn't indicate a loss of function within the young unit. It had become quite fond of 442569-4, especially as it usually arrived early in order to practice its oon'tal techniques on its vestigial gaak'tal. It had even shared its species designated identifier. The sharing of species designated identifier was a truly intimate gesture; very few Pleasure Units would have allocated that much self-awareness to a simple Surgical Unit.
Slightly out of breath 442569-4 arrived.
"Sorry Ak'kkt 2873924-1, processing the impending loss of its original Internal Pleasure Organ caused this unit some distress."
Ak'kkt 442569-4 gurfed its varlix in sympathy, the permanent removal of its own reproductive tract 250x1015 minutes ago had once been a cause of distress. In this instance however there was some good news for the prototype Pleasure Unit.
"Your emotional trauma is not necessary Steff-un-ee 442569-4. This is a test of optional chassis prototypes. Your original chassis will be retained so that your customers have a choice of configurations." assured the Surgical Unit "Stand between the markers over there and deploy your secondary stabilizers"
Stephanie 442569-4 obeyed standing in the centre of what appeared to be a painted 'X'. Until 0.500 minutes ago she had not been aware that she had any secondary stabilizers, now that the Surgical Unit had mentioned them the knowledge of what they were and which muscle clench pattern would deploy them came to her at instinct level.
With a hiss four secondary stabilizer arms telescoped out from the upper half of her abdominal joint deploying so that they lined up with the 'X' on the floor, the plug-like tips slotting into sockets in the floor and locking into place like flying buttresses around a cathedral.
As soon as the stabilizer clamps were firmly attached, she felt an uncontrollable urge to release her bowels...an odd sensation; she had not actually used her intestinal tract that way for longer than she cared to remember.
It was clear however that the sensation was her mind's way of interpreting what her body was actually doing. Looking down she was slightly surprised to see that her legs and lower abdomen had knelt down with legs wide apart providing a stable resting position.
The gap between the two faces of her torso joint was now 1000mm, the laser-nerves connecting her two halves looking like the bars of some hi-tech cage.
Had this happened 7000 days (or as Stephanie perceived it 10,080,000.ooo minutes) earlier, she might have ceased to function due to shock or terror. But she was a different unit now, she knew her place, her function, and the competence of her Brothel's controlling intelligence. The process was intellectually intriguing, nothing more.
A bizarre little unit approached. It appeared to be a large snake's (non-sentient) head its entire body replaced by a small service pack and six spider-like legs all done in a tasteful bronze colour.
The snake unit climbed quickly onto the flat upper surface of her lower half, plugging its legs into six holes clearly intended for the purpose. Instantly she lost all feeling below the waist. The lasers that had supplied her with nerve-data had refocused onto the snakehead unit's metal carapace.
Without any signal from herself, her secondary stabilizers extended further increasing the distance between her upper and lower torso components to 2000 millimetres.
As soon as she was repositioned, the snakehead got to its/her feet and walked them, zombie-like, over to a standard alcove.
"Select a new chassis,� instructed the Surgical Unit lighting up three darkened alcoves.
The first alcove contained approximately 15metres of anaconda-like snake, the unit’s body as wide as her torso, coiled neatly like a rope on a sailing ship. Clearly it had once been the other half of the Snake-head Unit. At the top of the pile where a head should be, the snake body ended suddenly in a connection interface that mirrored her own disconnected joint.
The second alcove contained a zebra, the third a lion, both chopped off at the neck with laser nerve control beaming down from above. Clearly the lasers maintained the chassis without need of the non-sentient heads.
"You have got to be kidding! A Zebra?!" she muttered, instantly feeling embarrassed by such a disorderly response.
"Activating Chassis Two" announced Ak'kkt, taking the confused communication as a choice designation.
The Zebra body took slow precise steps forward walking around until it was in position directly under her torso.
Stephanie 442569-4 felt the need to clench her currently missing anus, and complied with the need. Feeling resumed, first just the rear legs and genitalia.... very large genitalia, suited to pleasure probes far larger than the primitive component with which her origin species had been equipped.... And then, slowly, came a pins and needles sensation and the odd feeling that she was growing an extra pair of arms.
The new arms/forelegs felt odd, as if she was doing a push-up with only the tip of her forefinger and middle finger touching the ground.
"Feedback required"
"The extra limbs feel like arms instead of extra legs."
The surgical unit twisted a control and the sensation of oddness faded until it was invisible and then increased again this time feeling like she'd grown extra butt cheeks.
"Return the setting to the position it was at 0.027 minutes ago." Advised Stephanie 442569-4
The surgical unit complied and the chassis responses merged with normality again.
"Nervous systems aligned" Stephanie 442569-4 shaking her head slightly and sniffing the air through nostrils that no longer felt sensitive enough.
"Prepare for release of support frame...release"
Stephanie 442569-4 staggered slightly flicking her tail in surprise and stepping forward slightly. Although it all felt natural she still had no clue how to walk or run beyond the instinct level placement of feet allowing her to stay upright.
Hesitantly she took a step forward and had to hastily correct her stance.
'I must look like a newborn colt' she thought feeling a high level of enthusiasm.
21.275 minutes later she was fully competent on the chassis and able to gallop full speed around Concourse 44000.
After the experience with Chassis two, she found that Chassis three and four were easy to adapt to, each having its own quirks.
The large penis grafted to the end of the snake tail, for instance, took some getting used to. It hadn't formed part of the donor creature and therefore hadn't had any built in software to connect to, nor had she ever been equipped with such a component. Learning to re-route her existing orgasm routines through the new component had been both intellectually and physically stimulating.
A final bonus had been a new pair of arms, totally alien in origin, each arm consisting of five tentacles each tipped with a permanently erect dildo. Unlike the chassis, the tentacle attachments had a durable gold casing that matched her own polished skin.
She walked back to her group's room feeling like Christmas and birthday had just come, leading a line of chassis that followed behind her like a string of ducklings. Being prototype was a really special function and she glowed with love for her Brothel, thanking it for its gifts.
As she approached her group's room, she felt massive anticipation, her zebra-equine vagina becoming moist along its full 2500 millimetre length, She longed to have the rest of her Pleasure Group experiment on her.
She had no concern that the ex-zebra vagina would be too large; Pleasure Units were programmed to be adaptable, able to bring any designated Customer (or Simulated Customer) to shuddering orgasm.
The Surgical Unit had arranged to test her chassis with a simulated Species 77114 cock complete with a tank-tracked support unit, making it look like something her memory labelled as a nuclear missile carrier; she'd actually felt fear until she realized that she had already taken 2100 millimetres of its length into her.
Reaching room 442569 she sent a signal to the others, activating them.
The three glistening gold Pleasure Units stepped forward in unison, standing at parade rest until they had each achieved full awareness.
The first sign that they were fully functional was a widening of the eyes, followed by a speculative look. Stephanie 442569-4 didn't need a beam connection to extrapolate what they were thinking, they were Pleasure Units, there was really only one thing that they would be thinking about.
"Simulating Customer Acquisition. Target designate Stephanie 442569-4. What do you think Units? A type 74a/45 in combination with a 544f and a 15c?" Suggested Raphaella 442569-3
Henrietta 442569-1 and Eric 442569-2 gazed knowledgably and nodded acceptance, taking up position.
After a quick beamed conference Henrietta 442569-1 prepared to give the type 554f blowjob, (her favorite role) Eric 442569-2 deploying her hand into a fist ready for a type 15a penetration and Raphaella 442569-3 moving close for type 74a foreplay followed by the presentation of her labia for Stephanie 442569-4 to penetrate with her tongue.
Stephanie 442569-4 smiled; her Pleasure Group knew exactly which routines would normally produce a long, maximum strength, orgasm scenario and were applying a version adapted to take advantage of her new chassis.
A swift tactical analysis indicated she should respond with a type 88i, a C2-07 and a C2-54c.
Raphaella 442569-3's hand caressed her fore-crotch, the black and white furred flat spot where normally her access port would have been. The area might never have had a vagina, but the flesh was still sensitive to the expert caress that trailed upward to her secondary nipples and then further to her primary nipple rings. Energy crackled between her primary nipple rings and Raphaella 442569-3's golden finger, causing her to gasp in pleasure.
Behind her, she heard the hydraulic hiss as Eric 442569-2's fist morphed into a simulated erection. Helpfully Stephanie 442569-4 raised her tail and tightened around Eric’s forearm. so that the penetration would be tight and slick for a species 84106 like Eric 442569-2.
One definite benefit of this particular chassis was its extensive Internal Manipulation Array. She could take a cock the size of a tree trunk, and the volume previously dedicated to the ex-herbivore's five stomachs had been given over to a vast processing capacity. That capacity allowed her to manipulate a thrusting of the simulated cock with near infinite precision.
She began manipulating, her internal muscles dancing the erotic equivalent of a piano concerto along the arm’s length, squeezing it sequentially in a way that would have rendered a true Customer nearly non-functional with pleasure.
* * *
The Felix had had enough. There was no trigger event, no break in his routine or change in the number of females he was forced to fuck during that morning.
Picking up one of the fake-trees he began smashing, starting where he was stood and moving in the general direction of the feeding place. The co-processor tried to intervene but the breeding unit's thought processes were no longer compatible with it.
Analysis would reveal that it was purely genetic. This variant of sub-species 84106-b had a finite limit to the amount of time it could go without male-female interaction with a specific unit of sub-species 84106-a before a berserk incident occurred.
1.947 minutes later the sub-species 84106-b male disconnected itself from the network after repeatedly impacting its cranial housing against bulkhead 457-512 (frame 1004).
In effect the sub-species 84106-b male had vanished. The Brothel normally relied upon the cameras housed in its various units to provide surveillance. Unfortunately 99.8% of those units were powered down to save energy during its journey to The Customers
.... and The Brothel was vast. Designed to cater for up to 20% of a standard customer planet's population at any given time (in an environment of luxurious excess), the rogue unit could be literally anywhere.
The energy required to institute dedicated pest control measures were prohibitive.
Allowing the rogue unit to simply run loose was also out of the question. The rogue unit was omnivorous and still had basic non-sentient level reasoning capacity; once it became hungry enough there was a 78.5% probability that it would begin eating units...or worse... Customers.
The Brothel definitely didn't want a repeat of that particular fiasco.
Reviewing its options The Brothel concluded that Re-tasking its supply of currently active Pleasure Units would be a sufficient counter-measure. The only problem was finding a way to emulate intruder elimination routines within the somewhat limited software of a Pleasure Unit.
Fortunately some of the more extreme sado-masochistic pleasures it had been asked to perform on the now extinct Species 000145, were surprisingly similar to those that some Customer species used for pest control.
* * *
Stephanie 442569-4 had completed 78.4% of her C2-54c of Raphaella 442569-3's cock when the disengage signal arrived.
Immediately she switched to a C2-002g, giving Raphaella 442569-3 a single orgasm-inducing caress. Given the time constraint it was the best she could do.
< Customer detected... Classification BDSM-Vore Submissive. Seek. Locate.
Seduce. Terminate. Safety lockouts deactivated >
Group 442569 acknowledged the order and began the search for their first customer; leaving the un-used snake and lion chassis to stagger blindly to toward the alcoves.
* * *
Day 7047
Felix glanced around the chamber, sniffing, the aliens had not been here in some time and the running water. Water was exactly what she needed. He'd been on the run for quite a while, he could remember sleeping at least five times, which, without changes in the light levels, he figured meant at least five days. Further back than that, and his memory got hazy and a bit simplistic.
It seemed obvious that he'd been drugged, and that without fresh doses his mind was returning to normal. He had no idea how long he'd been doped, but judging by his pumped up Incredible-Hulk physique and the easy way in which he moved, it had to have been a long time.
He didn't bother fiddling with the faucet. It was simpler to just snap the pipe and drink directly. He might have got his mind back but his instincts still tended toward the simplest solution.
"Felix smash!" he giggled shoving his head into the fountaining water and then opening his mouth to gulp it down.
Once his immediate need for water was sated he took time to look around his location, the walls were covered in a series of pods. Each pod contained an androgenous youth. The pods seemed to be sorted by age of occupant, with kids at one end and older youths toward the other.
All the boys had curly strawberry blond hair, oddly large nipples and a dainty cleft chin...not unlike his own. He frowned, he knew he was missing something, but his mind wasn't quite up to joining the dots. Toward the far end of the chamber there was another difference, the sleeping adolescents had increasingly yellowish skin, with the very oldest having skin that glistened like polished gold and what might be the beginnings of pert breasts.
The youths didn't interest him...but the perfection of the golden ones was almost too much to bear, worse the might-be breasts reminded him of females, and fucking. Moving to the far end where the most mature ones were housed he selected a nice looking one and hammered at the transparent surface. The wild simple part of him wanted to fuck and the thoughtful part smiled viciously at the thought of one of his captors taking his massive length right to the hilt.
A slight sound at the kiddy end of the room caused his head to snap around. Hurriedly he leapt back up to the air duct he'd emerged from, and swung back out of sight. He cursed himself for letting herself get distracted that way and yet he hesitated wanting to observe.
Despite his reawakened intellect the instincts that had once caused him to protect his herd of females were still fully active and beginning to focus upon 'his' goldenboy/girl, his modified libido becoming harder to ignore, his thoughts slipping back toward his desperate and simplistic need for sex.
* * *
The room was as much a surprise to Stephanie 442569 as it had been to Felix. She hadn't thought about her origin species in a long time. At some level she knew that she was one of several hundred million fully trained Pleasure Units recruited at the same planet, and that The Brothel would have had the foresight to provide for replacement units. She'd just not expected to see any of them.
She'd sort of assumed that should extra units ever be required they would just appear in the group's room fully functional and ready to fuck. She was, after all, a Pleasure Unit and not expected to care about support functions; dealing with technicalities was some other unit's problem.
At the mid point of the chamber a damaged faucet gushed water. Her eyes narrowed, The Customer had been here recently. Quickly she merged with the central intelligence relaying her discovery to her fellow hunters.
The others were to circle in toward her position in theory driving the customer back to the chamber. Aside from fulfilling her mission this plan allowed her 15.500 minutes during which she could investigate these fantastic new units.
At the far end of the chamber one of the pods expelled steam and began to open, its transparent housing crazed by some heavy impact. Fascinated she walked toward the pod, swishing her tail in excitement.
A freshly birthed Pleasure Unit staggered forth.
Based upon her knowledge of the origin species Stephanie 442569 estimated that it had been grown to the physical equivalent of an 18 year old.
It lacked the implants and Co-Processor of an operational Pleasure Unit and looked a bit gangly, lacking muscle tone (presumably from lack of physical exercise). Shoulder length curly red hair hung damp and untidy. Clearly the damage to its pod had caused it to be released early, but only slightly.
She was relieved to note that the unit already had good vacuum resistant gold skin, fully upgraded genital component capable of several internal and external configurations. A distinct improvement on the basic specs for that species Stephanie 442569-4 thought.
The new unit staggered slightly, clearly unfamiliar with standing on her own without central intelligence’s guiding presence.
"I....?" it said, clearly uncertain.
Finally mastering the art of standing the unit began turning in a slow circle clearly fascinated by its surroundings.
After turning through 211.41° it finally noticed her presence. The Unit's eyes widened and its genitalia immediately adapted to Stephanie’s evident femininity forming a glistening golden cock that immediately sprang to attention. Instead of speaking the unit opened the third eye in the centre of its forehead, and set up a beam-link.
Stephanie 442569-4 had just enough time to realize that the new unit had its Co-processor internally mounted before being swamped by the new Unit's unconditional love.
As soon as the wave of love had reduced to more manageable levels, she was able to analyze what had just happened. The new unit was programmed to imprint on the first unit that it encountered adopting it as a mentor-template.
The new unit was not the only one altered by the beam link however. Hardwired routines within her own mind had also been activated. Stephanie 442569-4 found her Functions were immediately and automatically reprioritized, hunting the customer was no longer a priority. Care for, and training of the new pleasure unit now had total priority.
"I.... I am 442569-5" said the new Pleasure Unit in an endearingly uncertain voice.
"Do you have another name?"
"I do not believe so...am I malfunctioning? This event is not proceeding according to the data in my Birth Guidance Download? Where is the Surgical Unit? Where are the rest of our function group?" replied 442569-5 sounding nervous that reality wasn't as well organized as it had grown up believing.
"Your activation was unplanned"
"Oh!...should I deactivate?"
"No!" replied Stephanie 442569-4 hastily, 442569-5 had just offered to kill itself. "Plans will be amended to take advantage of your presence."
442569-5 smiled happily and changed its leg skin so that it had zebra-like copper stripes like her new mentor. "Good! I like being active...why is your genital component different? My data indicates we are of the same origin species? I extrapolate that we should be near identical"
"Well observed 442569-5. This chassis is one of several available to group 442569.... my default genitalia is similar to yours although with somewhat less functionality. I extrapolate that you are capable of simulating either variant of our origin species"
"Like this?" asked 442569-5, Its boyish chest morphing to form exceptionally full breasts, its cock dismantling, the sub-components forming the lips of burnished gold at the entrance to its internal pleasure component.
"Yes exactly like that... you definitely appear to be a more advanced model"
442569-5 pulled a face and and retracted her breasts to a slightly smaller perkier configuration that suited her physique perfectly. "I like it better this way"
"Of course you do! You are a Pleasure Unit, what Pleasure Unit wouldn't want to show off her best assets."
"I am within normal parameters?" asked 442569-5 eager for compliments
"I believe so. Please perform a basic customer seduction pose 001a. I want to see how much of our task specific data you have got pre-installed."
"Like this?" asked 442569-5 taking up an extremely erotic hand on hip pose, her other hand fiddling suggestively with her nipple.
* * *
A red mist descended over Felix’s mind 'his' female was trying to attract a rival mate. That the offender appeared to be an alien centauroid was beyond his mind's ability to be more enraged about.
He launched himself from his hiding place. First he would smash the rival and then he would prove to the female that she belonged to Felix.
* * *
Stephanie 442569-4 heard the crash of the life support duct's grill and began to turn. Vast meaty hands grabbed the two halves of her abdominal joint and pulled.
There was a tortured metal sound and the smell of burned electronics. A second later she lost all sensation below her joint and found herself bouncing down the room like a stone sent skipping across a lake.
At the other end of the room her Zebra Chassis slumped lifelessly against the floor.
A massive Customer towered over 442569-5 nearly 700 millimeteres taller and 553 millimeteres wider at the shoulder than the new unit.
The Customer was of Species 84106, but altered, its musculature vastly oversized in a brutal powerful way...it was what she'd once nicknamed a Pepsi-head. But what was it doing here? That variant was supposed to have been left behind to repopulate planet 84106-3!
By some odd quirk its mane of coarse wild hair was the same colour as 442569-5's. Stephanie 442569-4 had the nagging feeling that the fact was significant but couldn't spare any of her disorganized memory capacity to follow it up.
First priority was to assess her own functionality. Aside from concussive disruption to her organic CPU, there was minor damage to her chassis connection. Other than the fact that her legs weren’t attached everything was easily repairable.
More importantly, without legs, she was clearly less un-attractive to the Customer. Unfortunately the other members of 442569 would not arrive for several minutes. Clearly they would not be able to service the Customer either. A message sent through the Controlling Intellect requested the other 442569s to give priority increased speed
* * *
442569-5 retreated slowly glancing in shock at the two halves of its mentor-unit and then back at the...the thing... approaching it.
< Increase speed to rendezvous @ location 152441, 486214, 154400>
Checking its GPS, 442569-5 was confused to realize that it was already at the designated 3dimenional cube-coordinated. The message was clearly intended for other members of its assigned group. It was all very strange; this was the first time it had heard the Control Voice say things not directed at it in person.
The thing approached, one meaty hand rubbing its meter long genital appendage, muttering something that did not parse into coherent language.
442569-5 glanced toward the part of her mentor unit that contained her CPU, trying to catch its eye and beam-link. Unfortunately she had her third eye closed and was unable to receive the request for guidance.
"gonnafuckya" muttered the thing grabbing one of Its wrists and pinning it to the wall, the creature’s other hand continuing to self-gratify.
In desperation 442569-5 reverted to vocalization "Stephanie 442569-4, what should I do?"
The thing grabbed Its other hand immobilizing It, the rancid head leaning close kissing and biting at Its exposed neck.
"442569-5! It is a Customer! Request a BDSM-V Dominant download and implement immediately,� shouted her mentor unit struggling upright so that it could use its hands as feet.
442569-5 obeyed, gaining instant insight into The Customer's requirements. The teeth nibbling at Its…no..Her… Her neck, were not an attempt to cause dysfunction after all; it was merely the customer's preferred foreplay method.
The Customer profile indicated that it she was required to take and enjoy whatever damage the Customer cared to inflict and then prove herself 10% more capable in each area tested.
Quickly she mentally toggled her pleasure/pain perception so that the passionate bites switched from feeling bad to rather good and reconfigured her physique so that it appeared weaker and more archetypally feminine.
442569-5 had felt neither pain nor pleasure before...she found that it was actually quite enjoyable.
Reviewing her response options she decided to reciprocate with a love-bite type 032 aimed at the engorged nipple that was roughly at eye level.
The Customer roared and grabbed her by the throat forcing her down toward its fist-sized cockhead.
Clearly she was intended to perform orally. Swiftly scanning the size parameters with her central eye she concluded that she should dislocate her jaw and cease breathing in order to aid with insertion.
Once the cock was firmly in place she began giving it a simple 254c as the customer savagely tried to get its entire length into her oral pleasure component.
She was over 75.4% through the procedure before she realized her error. Her current scenario was compliant with BDSM variant: Submissive. She should be using the variation: Dominant.
"Gonna fuck yo ass!" grunted the customer; this time it's communication function was almost intelligible.
442569-5 disengaged from the customer's cock and configured her facial expression into what her data indicated was 'polite but firm dominance'
"You are incorrect. This unit will apply delayed orgasm hand relief until you beg for release." 442569-5 advised the customer calmly
The customer reverted to sub-sentient communication and roared, trying to push 442569-5's head back down, clearly demanding the completion of the final 25.6% of its blowjob.
442569-5 simply locked her neck muscles in place. Nothing the customer could do would now bend her. In a fast move she twisted her wrists out of the customer's vice like grip and gripped its wrists in turn applying 5% greater pressure than had been applied to her own wrists.
The customer smiled savagely and applied its full strength to releasing itself. Data indicated that the BDSM submissive required the hope of dominance until its final submission proved inevitable.
Dutifully she allowed the customer to break free of her grip and move to take her in a wrestling hold intended to allow the customer access to her internal pleasure centres.
She was beginning to actually enjoy her interaction with the customer. Being an activated Pleasure Unit was so much better than being pre-functional and just standing there growing.
Accessing her data on pre-insertion wrestling she concluded that lubrication would allow for increased pleasure for both herself and the customer. Activating her sweat glands she generated a 2micron thick film of oil that soon transferred to the customer's skin leaving them both as slippery as......
442569-5 pondered on the thought process, she had nothing to compare the slippery state too. The original data had indicated '...as an Eel' but 442569-5 had no download on what an Eel might be. Discarding the random thought she refocused her attention on the joy of being held tightly in the customers firm and passionate grip.
For a moment her vision was obscured by the customer's vein ribbed pectoral array, when significant optical data was once again available she noted the presence of three additional Pleasure Units. Clearly these were the rest of her Pleasure Group. One tended to her broken mentor, the second examined the mentor's inert chassis and the third attempted a beam connect.
The data transfer was brief due to the Customer's increasingly energetic struggles. The Raphaella 442569-3 unit was concerned about potential damage to her functions, but would not interfere.
Protocols regarding customer interaction were quite precise. Only The Customer could request additional pleasure. 442569-5, was therefore on her own. She was unused to having emotions and was surprised to find herself very possessive of the brutal customer and was quite relieved that the rest of her pleasure group would not interfere.
She decided that it was time to express her final dominance over her Customer. Slithering around onto the Customer's back she wrapped her legs around the customer's bulging thighs, her hand circling its erection.
The Customer's powerful arms might interfere with her pleasure giving and should therefore be disabled. Running the fingers of her other hand up the customer’s spine, she located the spinal nerve cluster she required, a swift jab quickly numbed the customer’s arms, leaving them hanging loose and dysfunctional at his sides. She leaned close and whispered in the customer's ear.
"Resistance is futile, Customer. Your genital pleasure functions are mine"
The Customer tried to move, grunting with the effort as his purely organic muscles strained against 442569-5's slim technologically enhanced arms.
"I will now proceed to massage your penis. Once you reach a pre-determined arousal level I will initiate a caress that will culminate in your final submission and simultaneous ejaculatory emission,� she informed in what she hoped was a helpful and cheerful tone.
The Customer clenched his muscles clearly intending this action as a preventative measure. It seemed clear to 442569-5 that the move was totally inadequate and was an indication that The Customer was complying with her stated action plan.
Now it was time to experience her first ever Customer-Orgasm and she was still having trouble with her new emotions. Before her activation emotion had just been something theoretical, now she was feeling nervous and anticipatory. Savoring every moment she began the slow inexorable caress.
As anticipated the customer's defence was totally ineffective against her pre-programmed expertise. With a groan the Customer relaxed, no longer straining against the muscle lock. 442569-5 felt her emotions surging out of control; this was the best moment of her existence! This was her purpose! Desperately she fought to control the urge to orgasm uncontrollably and conformed to the optimal plan that she'd been intending to follow.
The sensors in her genital component tasted the endorphin levels surging through the customer. Her uncoordinated caress had placed the customer 0.502 minutes away from ejaculation instead of the 4.010 minutes she'd intended to give him.
At this point it was tactically more efficient to continue with the orgasm rather than slow down.
"I lied. You're going to orgasm right now" she whispered in the customer's ear.
Extending her tongue she gave the customer's ear a lick and then inserted it into her ear. The circuit complete she discharged; pouring modulated electrical signals from her hand through the Customer's nervous system to the receiver contact installed in the tip of her tongue.
Getting a purely organic CPU to interface correctly with a properly integrated cybernetic CPU was always a risky business prone to failure. Fortunately The Brothel had extensive experience with this particular organic unit type and millennia of data on other pure organics.
The viral instruction that 442569-5 discharged was a variant of the standard full body orgasm amended so that it imposed order and submission on the rogue breeder's mind.
The customer's back arched and orgasmic fluid spattered the floor, it groaned once and then collapsed.
442569-5 rested on top of the warm body for 3.128 minutes, experiencing the afterglow of receiving payment. With considerable reluctance she untangled herself and stood unsteadily.
Glancing down she noted some organic stains marring her polished gold surface. Embarrassed she initiated her disinfectant and cleaning function, her body reverting to its neutral genderless form.
Slowly the ex-customer began to stir, its physique designed for incredible resilience.
"Unit 442569-6 reporting.... I am in need of upgrade,� said the ex-customer in a clear precise voice.
The unit that 442569-5's memory indicated was Eric 442569-2 moved to take the hulking unit by the hand clearly assigned the task of guiding it to a cleaning booth for preparation.
Remembering her mentor's damaged condition 442569-5's face blushed bright copper, quickly she dashed over to Stephanie 442569-4's torso section.
"Are you functional Stephanie 442569-4?" she asked kneeling close.
"Only minor damage 442569-5...." the damaged unit pondered her for a short time "442569-5 you need a personal designation...customers prefer the illusion that we are individuals like them"
442569-5 didn't have a clue what personal designator she should have. In the end she decided to search her memory of her source species. During her growth she'd been given access to the erotica of her origin species. It was important that newly produced units have knowledge of at least one culture's interactions.
"I choose to be Cupid 442569-5"
"Any particular reason, it is an unusual name for one of our origin species?"
"When I was being grown I particularly enjoyed a fiction called Cupid Boy. It is the name of a unit from that."
The other Pleasure units seemed to blank for a moment, clearly accessing the fiction. As one they smiled and nodded, clearly her choice of personal designation was appropriate.
To be continued...
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Chapter 6: Customer Relations
Day 7058 - in orbit Carzoz Extraction Array.
The Brothel scanned its Customer's Ambassador and didn't like what it saw. The creature was covered in religious piercing, each charm a shard of un-identified technology.
In its experience religiousness was always a problem, causing non-logical responses and even worse a rejection of its services.
The Ambassador had been spouting nonsense for a full 22.000 minutes, its speech referencing the deeds of some local unit who had apparently purged the temple of sin 4,730,400 minutes ago, a time stamp that placed the event as having occurred when The Brothel had only completed 42.5% of its voyage to the Carzoz Array.
Oddly, the Ambassador's apparent attitude seemed at odds with the other customer units, 45,847,512 of which had already begun interacting with the Pleasure Units in the usual ways.
The security analysis of the Ambassador’s religious charms was feeding in on another channel… the Charm-software was encrypted against security scans and had some highly reactive countermeasures. Broadening its search it detected similar implants, each with security shielding on every one of the 45,847,512 Customers, which meant.....
* * *
Cupid 442569-5 led the Customer by hand toward the group's bed, a feeling of total love burning through her every extremity.
Of the five units on offer the Customer had chosen her, clearly preferring her androgynous delicacy to Felix 442569-6's muscular bulk, or the 442569-1's Lion chassis, 442569-2's Naga tail , or 442569-3 classic perfection.
The other units turned away and returned to their alcoves. As the customer did not get off on being watched they would be in standby mode.
Cupid 442569-5 took a tenth of a minute to observe her prize. The Brothel had helpfully downloaded the customer species into her desire software. The Customer was a fine youthful example with a magnificent galth dangling erotically from its yoalth ap grig. According to her data it was a little unusual to see an adolescent, its galth still having the green coloration of an immature unit. It was possible that it had sneaked aboard in order to lose its virginity...if that were the case there were special protocols to be enacted, it would be given an extremely good time with care taken to avoid permanent scarring.
"Thank you for choosing me. Do you have a name?"
"I am Sword of God's Swift Justice to the Unclean and Immoral." replied the Customer seemingly embarrassed "But you can call me Sword"
"I must ask you a question Sword. Please do not be embarrassed; your response will indicate how I can maximize your pleasure. Are you a virgin?"
Sword blushed a cute pea green. The answer was obvious.
"Don't worry, I will soon have your galth turning a deep blue." she assured letting her hand drift to the hard shaft of the boy's galth causing it to soften slightly.
"Ahh!" gasped Sword in delight.
The biology of Sword's species was unusual, unlike most species where an aroused sexual organ tended to be hard and pole-like, in this species the sexual organ started out hard and pole-like and became soft and limp as it became more aroused.
This created a few problems, as the Customer would perceive Cupid 442569-5's normal arousal response as disinterest.
"Please allow me to guide your first exploration of sexuality" she advised taking hold of the customer's galth and using a variant of jackoff type 141, pressing deliciously hard against its three glipnars. "It is only 4320 minutes since my own first sexual experience. I can assure you that the sensation is most instructive and worth your credits."
Cupid 442569-5 had intended to take 10.000 minutes bringing Customer Sword to completion; unfortunately the adolescent customer had set up a fantasy scenario in its own mind and was considerably closer to orgasm than would be normal for its species, just from imagining what was going to happen to it.
After only 2.410 minutes Sword’s galth went entirely limp and it began making the gargling noise that was its vocalization of orgasm. Species data indicated that it would need 5.004 minutes before it would be ready for a second orgasm. As this was within the time Sword had purchased Cupid 442569-5 swapped to an advanced foreplay routine designed to promote rapid re-arousal.
Sword slapped her hand aside "I, Sword of God's Swift Justice to the Unclean and Immoral, have faced the temptation of flesh and overcome it! I command you! Wear the Horn of God and repent oh depraved one!"
Cupid 442569-5 was still analyzing the illogical statement when the customer extracted one of its piercings, a 150 millimetre long spindle with a sharpened point at either end.
"Repent!" the Customer frothed stabbing the piercing into her Cupid 442569-5's primary eye penetrating it and interfacing with her processes.
Cupid 442569-5 staggered backward, this was not correct, her vision was impaired and she could detect the Horn component connecting with her neural net.
Unlike the rest of her pleasure group Cupid 442569-5 had no experience with resisting external compulsion, her entire life had been one of unquestioning obedience to her controller. It took the Horn of God only 0.020 minutes to subvert her operating system and turn her into a loyal Sacrifice.
"Sacrifice 000,000,001, by the grace of the great Salak, is now operational. How may I serve Acolyte Sword of God's Swift Justice to the Unclean and Immoral?"
"Bring redemption to these units." instructed Sacrifice's master handing her four more of the redemption devices.
* * *
The Brothel felt the sudden loss of signal from 1,547,823 of its Pleasure Units; it was, as it had deduced… a trap!
The Ambassador, was connected, it already knew that its followers had acted. Its technological piercings were already deploying as it charged across the chamber.
Finally 0.001 minute too late, The Brothel identified the specific religious infestation that had infected the Customers. The infestation was a rather simplistic one, had the Customers maintained an updated anti-viral program it would not have had this problem.
The Infestation really had only two purposes, worship of its programmer and infesting new hosts, all other functions including life support were secondary to that. Logically therefore, The Ambassador would be a special unit tasked with integrating and subverting The Brothel itself.
The Ambassador embraced The Brothel's protective casing, sending nano-fibres seeking the organic component that formed the intellectual heart of The Brothel.
The Brothel concluded that within 1.200 minutes there would be penetration and it would also be subverted. Emergency protocols triggered, as it had known they would. There was no point in designing a system without some redundancy built in, even central intelligences were just expendable units when you got right down to it.
"Your attack has failed Deity Salak. I am no longer the Controlling Intelligence of this Brothel. Your units will continue to obey you for 10.450 minutes ± 0.650 after which they will become the basis of a new Brothel spreading love for profit throughout the........... .... Sacrifice 056,020,471, by the grace of the great Salak, is now operational. How may I serve Prelate Sword of God's Swift Justice to the Unclean and Immoral?" requested the Ex-Brothel humbly
* * *
Stephanie 442569-5 activated. Unlike the usual 0.510 minutes of careful rebooting and awareness testing, this time she was aware within 0.0002 minutes of initiation, all the safety checks discarded.
She was in the repair area, her zebra chassis was stood next to her, a multi-armed repair unit plugging in a new interface. She was surprised; it was normal procedure to repair individual nano-processors, not wastefully discard entire components.
An armature deployed from the ceiling, plugging into her shoulder's lifting hooks. Again with surprisingly little caution, she was lifted and swung up over her chassis. Instead of carefully aligning her neural feeds, the armature simply lined her up and dropped her allowing simple gravity to insert her spinal connector into the waiting socket.
Immediately upon satisfying herself that the connection was stable, she opened her neural access in order to report the malfunctioning Repair Units.... and then closed the link again.
The neural equivalent of an email address for The Brothel's Central Intelligence had changed; any message she sent it would be delivered right back to her.
Even as she was thinking this, her chassis and torso had been busy synchronizing their data like a PDA linking to a PC.
Stephanie Warrington-Smith staggered slightly, data streaming up her spine, her existing programming stripped away to make room for newly assigned functions. There was no longer any need to force her to comply with pleasure protocols or to assign her a designation number.
The Brothel's controlling programs require remarkably little memory space, less in fact than the CPU capacity installed in the redundant stomachs of the re-designed Zebra. The only real bottleneck was the spinal connection between the control utility programs and their new guiding intelligence.
Probing her newly reawakened mind, like prodding a missing tooth with her tongue, Stephanie discovered that it was necessary for a Brothel's controlling intelligence be entirely free willed. It was essential that the hardwired protocols that dominated and guided the thoughts of a mere Pleasure Unit should not blind it/her to new profit making opportunities when it was upgraded to a Control Intelect.
Feeling gleeful surprise, she realized she now owned the core codes of the entire operation. Her word was law, if she decided that the Pleasure Units should all seek employment as butlers then they would do so. She even had the power to take them all back to Earth and ‘defeat the invasion’ as she'd originally intended!
In the short time that she'd been coming to terms with her new power, 254,712 more Pleasure Units had been converted into religious sacrifices. She could sense the loss like tiny pinpricks of pain. She stamped a titanium-shod hoof. It was unacceptable! They were her Pleasure Units! No one had the right to subvert them away from their designated controller.
Reaching out to all of the remaining 300 million Units under her control, she gave her first order, caressing their minds with her benevolent presence.
< Code Zulu: BDSM-Ultimate Orgasm Attack. Fuck them into oblivion boys, girls and dual-functionals! >
* * *
Sacrifice had been about to place the Horn of God onto the Sinful Eric's head when the Jihad began to go wrong. Without warning the Sinful Eric opened its eyes and reached out with the array of tentacle-like dildoes that had replaced its right arm. One cock wrapped around Sacrifice’s throat, another pushed its way into her mouth, two more caught her wrists.
She resisted, but Sinful Eric's snake-like chassis was already wrapping her legs in a constricting coil. She no longer recalled the exact erotic techniques being applied to her, those memories had been deleted by her Horn. Before she could do anything to resist The Sinful Eric reached out with its other (five fingered) hand and tweaked a specific nerve cluster in her neck.
The orgasm was immediate and total, completely disrupting the Horn's ability to control its slave. The Sacrifice slumped into blissful unconsciousness it mind overwhelmed in ultimate pleasure.
Carefully Eric 442569-2 grasped the Infection and crushed its delicate mechanism into dust. Cupid 442569-5 would need to be rebooted from backup but other than that the damage was purely superficial.
Across the room Raphaella 442569-3 straddled the infected Customer using her vaginal muscles to engulf and then manipulate the young alien's galph.
Unlike a human the Customer species nervous system used a high wattage to send the signal from nerve to nerve. The impulse signal from its final orgasm would have powered a human dwelling for a month. The resulting unshielded feedback from the massive near lethal orgasm promptly fried its Horn implant without need for further intervention.
"What.....where am I?...ooih-gu-guh that feels good don't stop!" gasped the adolescent creature swamped by the loss of its virginity for the second time and the simultaneous return to self-awareness.
"Wait!.....I have to warn someone! The Carzoz Array! Its under attack!" It gasped reliving its last few moments of free will before the one that had been its shift leader had pinned it down and implanted the horn.
"Shhh" wispered Raphaella 442569-3 "You were being controlled by a religious infection. We are in the process of removing it from your neural networks"
"Then...then I must thank you for my freedom!" gasped the adolescent creature as Raphaella 442569-3 deployed the razor sharp needles within her pleasure inducer, simulating the species-specific equivalent of a vaginal orifice.
"Thank me later" Raphaella 442569-3 replied eyeing the coca-cola style capture unit that had just deployed from the bed's toy drawer.
* * *
Stephanie watched it all calmly; occupying a tiny part of every Pleasure Unit's mind. In her third-eye display she could see two sets of figures, one pink one blood red. Inexorably the number in blood red decreased, each time matched by an equivalent increase in the pink column.
The religious infection was being suppressed exactly as her Predecessor/Mother had predicted. The Ambassador Unit, knowing that it had been defeated had attempted to detonate a thermonuclear device as an act of 'purification'
Stephanie felt contempt for it and the complete lack of intelligent thought that the Infestation had demonstrated. The compartment that Predecessor/Mother had occupied had been specifically designed as an audience chamber; the idea that something like a nuke would do anything more than vaporize the paintwork was laughable.
The loss of the Predecessor/Mother Unit's physical body was of course unfortunate but hardly more than an inconvenience when you saw the big picture as Stephanie now did.
Meanwhile there was work to be done; the acquisition of so many new Pleasure Units had pushed her over the established compliment for her class of Brothel. Like an amoeba the need to sub-divide was hardwired into her new programming. A new Controlling Intelligence would need to be selected and 50% of available Units assigned to the building of a new Brothel from the Carzoz Array's components.
There was a great temptation to put all the humans in her half and let the new guy have the other species. Firmly Stephanie rejected that temptation, she had a duty to maximize the profit of all Brothels and a few tens of millions of humans would make the new brothel a highly profitable enterprise.
Cantering across the Mall she singled out her Pleasure Group's room and applied a x40 telescopic zoom to her vision...she could have just popped into their minds and downloaded the whole thing but she was still relatively new to the Brothel and its technology, simply talking to her Group still felt more natural.
As she entered the room all of the occupants stiffened, expressions of blind and utter devotion on every face. Annoyed with herself for forgetting Stephanie switched off the Aura of Masterful Presence that she now radiated as a default setting. Quickly she clapped her hands bringing them back to reality.
"Central Intelligence!" gasped an Ex-religious infestation that now had a basic co-processor tightly hugging tightly to its sarcnoofle.
Stephanie scanned the Unit and then scanned deeper, this one had qualities, young, adaptable and as yet un-upgraded.
"What is your designation?" she asked
"Walsdenig 442569-7, Central Intelligence" it replied eager and obedient
"If you were me what would you do with all these extra Pleasure Units?"
"Allocate the surplus units to the Carzoz array with instructions to adapt it as a Bordello class establishment; then service customers and recruit additional units from passing ships until such time as a stardrive can be manufactured, purchased or confiscated."
Stephanie was impressed, the unit had been thinking up ways to improve productivity even though its mind had not yet been fully re-prioritized.
"Why? You have not yet received any significant conditioning. At this stage in my own recruitment I still had hopes of escape"
"Central Intelligence, I have been a child of the mine-labor caste, a religious blank and now a Pleasure Unit... which career path would you have chosen?"
Stephanie nodded and smiled.
"Walsdenig, report to surgery. You will receive Central Intelligence upgrades. Developing the Array Brothel will be your primary task. You have 43200 minutes to select and deploy your Units. This Brothel Will depart in 43201 minutes."
All four of Walsdenig's eyes widened as it received its new destiny. Without a further word it raced off toward the surgical unit.
"So. Do we call you Stephanie 442569-4 or do you prefer Central Intelligence?" demanded Felix 442569-6, folding her massive arms across her permanently muscular torso and cocking her head in a challenging way. Despite several adjustments she still reacted as alpha male to almost any encounter.
"Just Stephanie will do. I'm sure you will be happy to know that now I'm the new C.I.U. The rest of our pleasure group gets assigned 'Consort status'... that means I'm your full time customer, and that we are now Pleasure Group One."
"Nice one" conceded Raphaella-1 "So...what's next?"
"I thought we'd spend the next 43199 minutes exploring your full range of functions, 2 minutes checking that young Walsdenig's Brothel is operational and then pop back home."
“I thought Earth didn’t have any credit value. You aren’t intending to kidnap more humans surely?
“Hardly. I…my predecessor that is…left a marker buoy claiming the system as my..our.. property. The buoy also picks up the local TV broadcasts. It turns out our origin species is almost up to First Contact standards. I will offer your services in the normal way and also offer employment opportunities.�
“They really aren’t going to be happy to see us again�
Stephanie just grinned, now that she was The Brothel she had access to the absolute certainty that her units could entertain anyone, no matter how reluctant.
* * *
2045 AD - Asteroid Defense Perimeter
The Variant Tech VF-011 landed on Asteroid 1279-Levy deploying an anchor cable to secure it to the low gravity ice before taking cover behind one of the asteroid's rocky protuberances.
Overhead the vast alien spacecraft moved slowly past taking no notice at all of Daavi McCall or the VF-011 that she was wearing. Turning the Battloid's head she tracked the ship with video, infrared and motion detector.
Like everyone else, she'd seen the history tapes, this same ship (or its twin) hanging in orbit over England, stealing that nation's entire male population and replacing them with Neanderthal like breeders who's mere presence sent women into a state of near mindless passion.
The Great Abduction was the reason that human race was out here in the belt. This time the invader wouldn't find the Earth to be such a pushover, over twenty years of construction effort had gone into the creation of the defense line and the 20ft tall Battloids that defended it. This time it would be different!
THE END
Day 7058 - in orbit Carzoz Extraction Array.
The Brothel scanned its Customer's Ambassador and didn't like what it saw. The creature was covered in religious piercing, each charm a shard of un-identified technology.
In its experience religiousness was always a problem, causing non-logical responses and even worse a rejection of its services.
The Ambassador had been spouting nonsense for a full 22.000 minutes, its speech referencing the deeds of some local unit who had apparently purged the temple of sin 4,730,400 minutes ago, a time stamp that placed the event as having occurred when The Brothel had only completed 42.5% of its voyage to the Carzoz Array.
Oddly, the Ambassador's apparent attitude seemed at odds with the other customer units, 45,847,512 of which had already begun interacting with the Pleasure Units in the usual ways.
The security analysis of the Ambassador’s religious charms was feeding in on another channel… the Charm-software was encrypted against security scans and had some highly reactive countermeasures. Broadening its search it detected similar implants, each with security shielding on every one of the 45,847,512 Customers, which meant.....
* * *
Cupid 442569-5 led the Customer by hand toward the group's bed, a feeling of total love burning through her every extremity.
Of the five units on offer the Customer had chosen her, clearly preferring her androgynous delicacy to Felix 442569-6's muscular bulk, or the 442569-1's Lion chassis, 442569-2's Naga tail , or 442569-3 classic perfection.
The other units turned away and returned to their alcoves. As the customer did not get off on being watched they would be in standby mode.
Cupid 442569-5 took a tenth of a minute to observe her prize. The Brothel had helpfully downloaded the customer species into her desire software. The Customer was a fine youthful example with a magnificent galth dangling erotically from its yoalth ap grig. According to her data it was a little unusual to see an adolescent, its galth still having the green coloration of an immature unit. It was possible that it had sneaked aboard in order to lose its virginity...if that were the case there were special protocols to be enacted, it would be given an extremely good time with care taken to avoid permanent scarring.
"Thank you for choosing me. Do you have a name?"
"I am Sword of God's Swift Justice to the Unclean and Immoral." replied the Customer seemingly embarrassed "But you can call me Sword"
"I must ask you a question Sword. Please do not be embarrassed; your response will indicate how I can maximize your pleasure. Are you a virgin?"
Sword blushed a cute pea green. The answer was obvious.
"Don't worry, I will soon have your galth turning a deep blue." she assured letting her hand drift to the hard shaft of the boy's galth causing it to soften slightly.
"Ahh!" gasped Sword in delight.
The biology of Sword's species was unusual, unlike most species where an aroused sexual organ tended to be hard and pole-like, in this species the sexual organ started out hard and pole-like and became soft and limp as it became more aroused.
This created a few problems, as the Customer would perceive Cupid 442569-5's normal arousal response as disinterest.
"Please allow me to guide your first exploration of sexuality" she advised taking hold of the customer's galth and using a variant of jackoff type 141, pressing deliciously hard against its three glipnars. "It is only 4320 minutes since my own first sexual experience. I can assure you that the sensation is most instructive and worth your credits."
Cupid 442569-5 had intended to take 10.000 minutes bringing Customer Sword to completion; unfortunately the adolescent customer had set up a fantasy scenario in its own mind and was considerably closer to orgasm than would be normal for its species, just from imagining what was going to happen to it.
After only 2.410 minutes Sword’s galth went entirely limp and it began making the gargling noise that was its vocalization of orgasm. Species data indicated that it would need 5.004 minutes before it would be ready for a second orgasm. As this was within the time Sword had purchased Cupid 442569-5 swapped to an advanced foreplay routine designed to promote rapid re-arousal.
Sword slapped her hand aside "I, Sword of God's Swift Justice to the Unclean and Immoral, have faced the temptation of flesh and overcome it! I command you! Wear the Horn of God and repent oh depraved one!"
Cupid 442569-5 was still analyzing the illogical statement when the customer extracted one of its piercings, a 150 millimetre long spindle with a sharpened point at either end.
"Repent!" the Customer frothed stabbing the piercing into her Cupid 442569-5's primary eye penetrating it and interfacing with her processes.
Cupid 442569-5 staggered backward, this was not correct, her vision was impaired and she could detect the Horn component connecting with her neural net.
Unlike the rest of her pleasure group Cupid 442569-5 had no experience with resisting external compulsion, her entire life had been one of unquestioning obedience to her controller. It took the Horn of God only 0.020 minutes to subvert her operating system and turn her into a loyal Sacrifice.
"Sacrifice 000,000,001, by the grace of the great Salak, is now operational. How may I serve Acolyte Sword of God's Swift Justice to the Unclean and Immoral?"
"Bring redemption to these units." instructed Sacrifice's master handing her four more of the redemption devices.
* * *
The Brothel felt the sudden loss of signal from 1,547,823 of its Pleasure Units; it was, as it had deduced… a trap!
The Ambassador, was connected, it already knew that its followers had acted. Its technological piercings were already deploying as it charged across the chamber.
Finally 0.001 minute too late, The Brothel identified the specific religious infestation that had infected the Customers. The infestation was a rather simplistic one, had the Customers maintained an updated anti-viral program it would not have had this problem.
The Infestation really had only two purposes, worship of its programmer and infesting new hosts, all other functions including life support were secondary to that. Logically therefore, The Ambassador would be a special unit tasked with integrating and subverting The Brothel itself.
The Ambassador embraced The Brothel's protective casing, sending nano-fibres seeking the organic component that formed the intellectual heart of The Brothel.
The Brothel concluded that within 1.200 minutes there would be penetration and it would also be subverted. Emergency protocols triggered, as it had known they would. There was no point in designing a system without some redundancy built in, even central intelligences were just expendable units when you got right down to it.
"Your attack has failed Deity Salak. I am no longer the Controlling Intelligence of this Brothel. Your units will continue to obey you for 10.450 minutes ± 0.650 after which they will become the basis of a new Brothel spreading love for profit throughout the........... .... Sacrifice 056,020,471, by the grace of the great Salak, is now operational. How may I serve Prelate Sword of God's Swift Justice to the Unclean and Immoral?" requested the Ex-Brothel humbly
* * *
Stephanie 442569-5 activated. Unlike the usual 0.510 minutes of careful rebooting and awareness testing, this time she was aware within 0.0002 minutes of initiation, all the safety checks discarded.
She was in the repair area, her zebra chassis was stood next to her, a multi-armed repair unit plugging in a new interface. She was surprised; it was normal procedure to repair individual nano-processors, not wastefully discard entire components.
An armature deployed from the ceiling, plugging into her shoulder's lifting hooks. Again with surprisingly little caution, she was lifted and swung up over her chassis. Instead of carefully aligning her neural feeds, the armature simply lined her up and dropped her allowing simple gravity to insert her spinal connector into the waiting socket.
Immediately upon satisfying herself that the connection was stable, she opened her neural access in order to report the malfunctioning Repair Units.... and then closed the link again.
The neural equivalent of an email address for The Brothel's Central Intelligence had changed; any message she sent it would be delivered right back to her.
Even as she was thinking this, her chassis and torso had been busy synchronizing their data like a PDA linking to a PC.
Stephanie Warrington-Smith staggered slightly, data streaming up her spine, her existing programming stripped away to make room for newly assigned functions. There was no longer any need to force her to comply with pleasure protocols or to assign her a designation number.
The Brothel's controlling programs require remarkably little memory space, less in fact than the CPU capacity installed in the redundant stomachs of the re-designed Zebra. The only real bottleneck was the spinal connection between the control utility programs and their new guiding intelligence.
Probing her newly reawakened mind, like prodding a missing tooth with her tongue, Stephanie discovered that it was necessary for a Brothel's controlling intelligence be entirely free willed. It was essential that the hardwired protocols that dominated and guided the thoughts of a mere Pleasure Unit should not blind it/her to new profit making opportunities when it was upgraded to a Control Intelect.
Feeling gleeful surprise, she realized she now owned the core codes of the entire operation. Her word was law, if she decided that the Pleasure Units should all seek employment as butlers then they would do so. She even had the power to take them all back to Earth and ‘defeat the invasion’ as she'd originally intended!
In the short time that she'd been coming to terms with her new power, 254,712 more Pleasure Units had been converted into religious sacrifices. She could sense the loss like tiny pinpricks of pain. She stamped a titanium-shod hoof. It was unacceptable! They were her Pleasure Units! No one had the right to subvert them away from their designated controller.
Reaching out to all of the remaining 300 million Units under her control, she gave her first order, caressing their minds with her benevolent presence.
< Code Zulu: BDSM-Ultimate Orgasm Attack. Fuck them into oblivion boys, girls and dual-functionals! >
* * *
Sacrifice had been about to place the Horn of God onto the Sinful Eric's head when the Jihad began to go wrong. Without warning the Sinful Eric opened its eyes and reached out with the array of tentacle-like dildoes that had replaced its right arm. One cock wrapped around Sacrifice’s throat, another pushed its way into her mouth, two more caught her wrists.
She resisted, but Sinful Eric's snake-like chassis was already wrapping her legs in a constricting coil. She no longer recalled the exact erotic techniques being applied to her, those memories had been deleted by her Horn. Before she could do anything to resist The Sinful Eric reached out with its other (five fingered) hand and tweaked a specific nerve cluster in her neck.
The orgasm was immediate and total, completely disrupting the Horn's ability to control its slave. The Sacrifice slumped into blissful unconsciousness it mind overwhelmed in ultimate pleasure.
Carefully Eric 442569-2 grasped the Infection and crushed its delicate mechanism into dust. Cupid 442569-5 would need to be rebooted from backup but other than that the damage was purely superficial.
Across the room Raphaella 442569-3 straddled the infected Customer using her vaginal muscles to engulf and then manipulate the young alien's galph.
Unlike a human the Customer species nervous system used a high wattage to send the signal from nerve to nerve. The impulse signal from its final orgasm would have powered a human dwelling for a month. The resulting unshielded feedback from the massive near lethal orgasm promptly fried its Horn implant without need for further intervention.
"What.....where am I?...ooih-gu-guh that feels good don't stop!" gasped the adolescent creature swamped by the loss of its virginity for the second time and the simultaneous return to self-awareness.
"Wait!.....I have to warn someone! The Carzoz Array! Its under attack!" It gasped reliving its last few moments of free will before the one that had been its shift leader had pinned it down and implanted the horn.
"Shhh" wispered Raphaella 442569-3 "You were being controlled by a religious infection. We are in the process of removing it from your neural networks"
"Then...then I must thank you for my freedom!" gasped the adolescent creature as Raphaella 442569-3 deployed the razor sharp needles within her pleasure inducer, simulating the species-specific equivalent of a vaginal orifice.
"Thank me later" Raphaella 442569-3 replied eyeing the coca-cola style capture unit that had just deployed from the bed's toy drawer.
* * *
Stephanie watched it all calmly; occupying a tiny part of every Pleasure Unit's mind. In her third-eye display she could see two sets of figures, one pink one blood red. Inexorably the number in blood red decreased, each time matched by an equivalent increase in the pink column.
The religious infection was being suppressed exactly as her Predecessor/Mother had predicted. The Ambassador Unit, knowing that it had been defeated had attempted to detonate a thermonuclear device as an act of 'purification'
Stephanie felt contempt for it and the complete lack of intelligent thought that the Infestation had demonstrated. The compartment that Predecessor/Mother had occupied had been specifically designed as an audience chamber; the idea that something like a nuke would do anything more than vaporize the paintwork was laughable.
The loss of the Predecessor/Mother Unit's physical body was of course unfortunate but hardly more than an inconvenience when you saw the big picture as Stephanie now did.
Meanwhile there was work to be done; the acquisition of so many new Pleasure Units had pushed her over the established compliment for her class of Brothel. Like an amoeba the need to sub-divide was hardwired into her new programming. A new Controlling Intelligence would need to be selected and 50% of available Units assigned to the building of a new Brothel from the Carzoz Array's components.
There was a great temptation to put all the humans in her half and let the new guy have the other species. Firmly Stephanie rejected that temptation, she had a duty to maximize the profit of all Brothels and a few tens of millions of humans would make the new brothel a highly profitable enterprise.
Cantering across the Mall she singled out her Pleasure Group's room and applied a x40 telescopic zoom to her vision...she could have just popped into their minds and downloaded the whole thing but she was still relatively new to the Brothel and its technology, simply talking to her Group still felt more natural.
As she entered the room all of the occupants stiffened, expressions of blind and utter devotion on every face. Annoyed with herself for forgetting Stephanie switched off the Aura of Masterful Presence that she now radiated as a default setting. Quickly she clapped her hands bringing them back to reality.
"Central Intelligence!" gasped an Ex-religious infestation that now had a basic co-processor tightly hugging tightly to its sarcnoofle.
Stephanie scanned the Unit and then scanned deeper, this one had qualities, young, adaptable and as yet un-upgraded.
"What is your designation?" she asked
"Walsdenig 442569-7, Central Intelligence" it replied eager and obedient
"If you were me what would you do with all these extra Pleasure Units?"
"Allocate the surplus units to the Carzoz array with instructions to adapt it as a Bordello class establishment; then service customers and recruit additional units from passing ships until such time as a stardrive can be manufactured, purchased or confiscated."
Stephanie was impressed, the unit had been thinking up ways to improve productivity even though its mind had not yet been fully re-prioritized.
"Why? You have not yet received any significant conditioning. At this stage in my own recruitment I still had hopes of escape"
"Central Intelligence, I have been a child of the mine-labor caste, a religious blank and now a Pleasure Unit... which career path would you have chosen?"
Stephanie nodded and smiled.
"Walsdenig, report to surgery. You will receive Central Intelligence upgrades. Developing the Array Brothel will be your primary task. You have 43200 minutes to select and deploy your Units. This Brothel Will depart in 43201 minutes."
All four of Walsdenig's eyes widened as it received its new destiny. Without a further word it raced off toward the surgical unit.
"So. Do we call you Stephanie 442569-4 or do you prefer Central Intelligence?" demanded Felix 442569-6, folding her massive arms across her permanently muscular torso and cocking her head in a challenging way. Despite several adjustments she still reacted as alpha male to almost any encounter.
"Just Stephanie will do. I'm sure you will be happy to know that now I'm the new C.I.U. The rest of our pleasure group gets assigned 'Consort status'... that means I'm your full time customer, and that we are now Pleasure Group One."
"Nice one" conceded Raphaella-1 "So...what's next?"
"I thought we'd spend the next 43199 minutes exploring your full range of functions, 2 minutes checking that young Walsdenig's Brothel is operational and then pop back home."
“I thought Earth didn’t have any credit value. You aren’t intending to kidnap more humans surely?
“Hardly. I…my predecessor that is…left a marker buoy claiming the system as my..our.. property. The buoy also picks up the local TV broadcasts. It turns out our origin species is almost up to First Contact standards. I will offer your services in the normal way and also offer employment opportunities.�
“They really aren’t going to be happy to see us again�
Stephanie just grinned, now that she was The Brothel she had access to the absolute certainty that her units could entertain anyone, no matter how reluctant.
* * *
2045 AD - Asteroid Defense Perimeter
The Variant Tech VF-011 landed on Asteroid 1279-Levy deploying an anchor cable to secure it to the low gravity ice before taking cover behind one of the asteroid's rocky protuberances.
Overhead the vast alien spacecraft moved slowly past taking no notice at all of Daavi McCall or the VF-011 that she was wearing. Turning the Battloid's head she tracked the ship with video, infrared and motion detector.
Like everyone else, she'd seen the history tapes, this same ship (or its twin) hanging in orbit over England, stealing that nation's entire male population and replacing them with Neanderthal like breeders who's mere presence sent women into a state of near mindless passion.
The Great Abduction was the reason that human race was out here in the belt. This time the invader wouldn't find the Earth to be such a pushover, over twenty years of construction effort had gone into the creation of the defense line and the 20ft tall Battloids that defended it. This time it would be different!
THE END
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