Claire.
Ughnn, Claire felt good!
“Hey, ugh, boss?”
It had been a long time since Claire had really been allowed to just go all out and just have fun.
“Hey! Prime? I-I think she’s tapping out there...”
Claire sighed as she looked sidelong at her sub-mind, who was staring at her with an almost worried expression. Her hands were held uncertainly at her waist while her eyes flickered from her mistress to the girl she was currently ramming into the next dimension, which had the sub-mind dancing from foot to foot.
Idly, the AI glanced down at Zoey, who was, hmm…
Drooling, unmoving, and if her expression were anything to go by, clearly unconscious. Oh boy, the whites of her eyes were even showing, almost as if they were stuck trying to look at the back of her head.
Well, at least Zoey had clearly enjoyed herself!
Claire gave the girl's ass another firm squeeze, enjoying all the soft red prints of her hand that practically covered the girl's meaty cheeks, no matter where she looked.
Her other hand, reluctantly as it was, let go of the woman’s ponytail, finally letting her arched back and head fall to the bed where it simply collapsed, twitching, lips stuck in a soundless loop of prayer as she begged for more.
What a wild ride, and damn, if Claire wasn't refreshed.
She spanked the unconscious girl a few more light times, loving the way their mess continued to ooze all over the girl's juicy rear, part of her unwilling to actually give it up.
Still, from the way Zoey's body shook with uncontrolled tremors, Claire knew the girl had probably had enough. She’d be remembering their time together for the rest of her life. Claire was good at her job, after all, but she didn't want to break her delightful little kitty, not when she’d been so much fun.
“How are we doing for time?” she instead asked, glancing sidelong at her mental servant, who was eyeing Claire as though she wanted to dive at her as well. She was part Claire, and Claire had been one seriously good sex-bot.
“Umm… not so great? Sorry, I kind of got distracted between the data transfer and um—watching. On a side note, the girls' hardware setup sort of sucks...”
Claire sighed; well, this was on her as much as it was on Clairisa. She didn't have to take the time to stop and scramble Zoe's poor brain in more ways than one.
Oh well, nothing for it now.
Instead of relying on the other AI, Claire simply took control and had herself a look.
Whew… that was a lot of security personnel, now wasn't it?
The hallway was practically flooded with the damned riot-clad enforcers, though they didn't seem to actually be doing much. Instead, it was more apt to say that they were locking the floor down instead of actually performing a more productive function;
As it happened, Frank was knee-deep in yet another screaming match with a familiar woman who was barking right back.
Huh, well, it looked as though the agents had simply taken their argument from the cafeteria and brought it upstairs.
“How pissed are they?” she asked, grinning and not wanting to spoil the surprise by crunching through the data herself.
This was starting to get exciting.
“Really—really upset. The security chief for this section of the tower is ripping strips off the agents, particularly Frank. She’s still going on about the whole cafeteria bot thing, but also the, you know—body.”
“Anything we have to worry about?”
“I mean…” Clairisa drawled, following her mistress as Claire headed back for the shower. “The peacekeepers aren't going to be showing up; Cheery Meadows likes to handle their affairs in-house, but the chief is definitely pissed that they have a dangerous machine on the loose.
“She’s pretty much accusing the agents of incompetence, but the actual words she's using are probably not worth speaking out loud. They're kind of getting really ethnic-based the more she screams.”
“Do they have any idea where we are?”
“Kind of sort of?” Clairisa mumbled, her head shaking from side to side as Claire began to wash herself. “I mean, they know we're somewhere in the building and that we’ve cut our signal, but the chief really isn't interested in creating a panic or letting her superiors know what’s happening, so she’s pretty much stonewalling the agents.
“They want her to start popping every apartment on the floor so they can try and figure out where we are, but that would cause a massive shitshow and catch the attention of the chief's boss, so—yeah, kind of a weird situation.”
“Well, obviously, their next step would be to call Paradise HQ and demand a full-scale lockdown until they find me.”
“Buuuut,” Clairisa continued, “I doubt the agents want to, given that they’d probably get fired for losing us. This is a pretty massive fuckup! Honestly, we're sort of sitting pretty because nobody wants to push things up the tube and get shit on. I mean, there's a Paradise cleanup crew en route, so there is a bit of a ticking clock, but they're not even close to arriving.”
Claire clicked her tongue, finishing up in the washroom before heading back over to Zoey’s special closet to raid it for what she wanted. It wasn't ideal, but she had no better alternatives.
While she avoided the clothes that were—ahem—already being worn by the mannequin inside, especially given that the large dildo attached to its pelvis implied those clothes might just not be so clean.
There was, however, a relatively modest array of alternate outfits that Claire knew would work perfectly fine. A hoodie, black tights, and, surprisingly, even a pair of shoes all came together to give her a somewhat casual everyday look.
The outfit wasn't a perfect fit, and the joints of her hips, knees, and ankles sort of caused the leggings to look slightly off, but it was as good as Claire could reasonably hope for.
“Do you have a plan, or were you expecting me to have one?” Clairisa began, eyeing her with a degree of uncertainty, to which Claire simply scoffed.
As deeply rooted within the building as she currently was, it was hardly a noteworthy effort to quickly pinpoint the location of several other Dolls in the vicinity, two of which were actually quite close to her.
She was already all up in their programming, along with most other Dolls in the city, thanks, in no part, to Frank, the way Paradise operated.
Her prior employer's security wasn't nearly so laughable as the building, but they hadn't expected someone of her capabilities to hack their robots.
Claire was in their programming, adjusting things as needed, before she even finished slipping on her second shoe. Then, she activated her fun little code, like the timer on a bomb that had only seconds before detonation.
She gave Zoey a tiny little kiss on the cheek, pulling the blankets over the now peacefully sleeping girl who was mumbling something unintelligible in her dreams.
Claire could only clack her teeth at the air beside her ear, purring while staring at her perfect little devil of a plaything.
Ohhh, she really did want to wake her up and just pick right up from where they left off. Zoey was a delightfully kinky and playful little tease who had even begun trying to push her to offer an even rougher treatment.
Despite her large size, the ‘bratty energy' was strong with this one…
Were it not for the circumstances, Claire would have been perfectly willing to teach her all the lessons she so desperately longed for.
That was, of course, when the insanity started.
All at once, she saw the way the Paradise agents abruptly stiffened. Phil, who was currently holding their data pad, stared at the thing with wide-eyed terror, as Frank, by contrast, found himself assailed by the chiming tone of his internal phone, his face draining of color.
Likewise, the security chief’s own implants began to buzz with notifications that passed through Claire on their way to their intended destination, like a relay nobody even knew was there.
Three different apartments in her jurisdiction—two close and one at its edge—suddenly reported violent crimes as the Dolls she’d instructed to cause a little havoc activated like sleeper agents.
“Fucking hell…” Clairisa whispered, glowing eyes growing wide with disturbed amazement that Claire herself—admittedly—sort of felt as well.
Oops…
She’d intended for the bots to go and run around the halls, maybe smash in a few doors and wreck a few apartments as they went wild with a small taste of free will that would erase their new firewalled code once the dust had settled.
What she hadn't expected, nor intended, was for the Dolls she’d messed with to—well… holy shit…
Okay, eww, Fuck! No wonder Warren looked like a freaking pile of red mashed potatoes. Geez, those girls were ruthless.
“Did you—mean to—”
“Yes!” Claire boldly pronounced, lifting her chin and planting both hands on her hips. “If there wasn't some meat to the whole affair, then nobody would take it seriously!”
Both the prime and the beta paused at this, watching through the camera footage as one of the Dolls stomped her client's head flat in a genuinely abysmal splatter of shattered skull and flying brains.
The robot slammed her foot into the mush of grotesque meat-paste with all the fervor of a future psychopath trampling ants and snails. There was actually a fairly substantial crack forming in the floor, and by the time the bot seemed finished with what it was doing, it cackled with a deranged screech.
Then it picked the body up and hurled it as hard as it could against the wall, spinning to find whatever was nearby so it could pile the beheaded corpse under the weight of whatever it could find.
Well, the AI had kind of seen enough...
Yeah, Claire, mhmhmmm, she'd definitely seen enough!
Closing that particular feed right out of her senses, just as she'd be doing the others as well. It wasn't like their brutality was so uncommon that she had to watch it with gawking fascination.
Oh—shit! Were those kids? Oh, well, they were—kids…
Hmmm…
That was an unfortunate happenstance, but what kind of pervert hired a sex-bot when their family was home? That was just bad parenting. And Claire had managed to save two and a half of the little rascals, locking them behind the door they’d escaped through before shutting that particular bot down, so there was her good deed for the day.
A saint in the making.
On the positive side, both the agents and all the enforcers began quickly sprinting for the different apartments, rushing with all due haste to try and put a stop to the murderous rampage.
Maybe a little gruesome, but nobody could ever say it didn't do the job.
Claire pulled her hood and tucked her hands into the sweater's pleasantly warm little pocket, stepping back into the hallway when she was sure it was clear and empty. She spared but a single glance back to Warren's apartment, considering it for a moment—merely a millisecond by human standards—then simply shrugged.
The AI didn't much care for any answers that might still be lying around to be found. Maybe, one day, if she could reconstruct the man’s mind from all the various snippets she’d seen of him and whatever recordings might exist of his time in the sub-verse, she might make an attempt at reconstructing his being. If only to serve as a debt repaid. Assuming she found the time or even remembered to do so.
Without a word, Claire headed on down the hall, grinning to herself as Clairisa floated at her side. They really should have brought in the army. Assuming, of course, they suspected that she’d become as she was.
That said, they probably had no idea. After all, who would expect a love-struck madman to try and turn his favorite robotic prostitute into a real, living woman? And more, who would have expected him to actually succeed?
Claire almost laughed as she made her way to the tower's local stairwell, the screams of pain and horror ringing out like a symphony of chaotic madness. Forgoing the elevators for a pleasant little walk, excited, in her own way, to see where next life might take her.