It was a warm Saturday in April, the month of life--birds singing, flowers blooming, lovers in love, looking out the window, it was a day in a fantasy land. My life, on the other hand was not even close to being this happy.
As a 32 year old single female, my life was so empty. Just getting over another failed relationship, no family, no children, scraping week to week just to pay the rent on my 1 bedroom apartment, I was so alone. I have worked as a French Maid for a domestic service organization for the past 12 years, called Perfect Maids Inc. I love the profession, and my best friend, Yvette, has worked with me in the same company for the past 9 years. We were a team, and since we were basically on the top of the seniority list, and got the better work(as if being a Maid has better work).
Perfect Maids Inc. has a very strict dress code, and all Maids must uphold this code. It is a very high maintenance job to uphold your looks; basically, you must look like a doll or mannequin. There are many different types of uniforms I must wear, depending on what the job I do. All maids must wear seamed pantyhose(and seams must be straight!), latex corsets, satin slips, high heels, and satin or latex gloves. Basically, the underneath "hardware" is a company standard, the external "software", or uniform, varies. If you are caught by Beverly, the watch supervisor, even breaking one of these rules, you as forced to wear a very uncomfortable posture collar attached to your corset for one month; no exceptions. Beverly, by details in a signed contract, has the right to inspect all aspects of your attire. But, all the girls are pretty good, and I have worn my share of posture collars over the years, but, discipline is a way of life, and without it, the image isnt upheld. I do respect Beverly for the discipline.
Yvette and I are basically are Upstairs Maids, fixing beds, dusting, vacuuming, and other light domestic chores in big mansions. We often are cocktail waitresses at big social events, serving orderves and drinks to filthy rich men and women. Occasionally we are rented out to parties. I am very content in the position, but my body was beginning to basically wear out.
Other co-workers have been asking me if I have been sleeping ok, since I looked totally exhausted. Without a doubt, I agreed. My ankles ached from being in heals all day, my back hurt from the job, and I could not get a good nights rest at any cost. I looked in the mirror, and my eyes really show it. At this rate, I would be burned out in a month.
The following Friday, Beverly called me into her office, and was very concerned about my exhaustion.
"Sit down, Molly," said Beverly.
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"How are you doing Molly?" asked Yvette. "I have been noticing you and Yvette have been stressed out. You more than Yvette"
"The job is really beginning to take its toll on me," I sighed. "I'm tired, achy, and my back is acting up. Maybe Im too old to be doing this?"
She shok her head. "Nonsense, you and Yvette are the best Maids I've got. Everyone loves you, and you'd be a fool to give up an profession you love so much." She handed me a sheet of paper. " Here, read this."
It was a Technical Journal Ad of some sort. The Company advertised was Custom Built Maids, Inc., and the ad read like this:
Tired? Worn-out?, Ready to give up a profession you love so much? You can become a Custom Built Maid, and be the best Robotic Maid anyone has ever seen. Would you like to :
Call 1-800-IT'S-TIME - Please make the most important call of your life!
- Never tire out again, even after working 16 or more hours a day?
- Never have financial woes, and have a place to call home for the rest of your life?
- Never look a day older, and be a knockout 24 hours a day?
- Never get sick and always be pleasant?
"Well, what do you think?"
In awe, being so convinced this was for me, but afraid to say it, I said, "I like it. I would be a perfect machine, a perfect maid, totally flawless! Before I make a decision, is it possible to meet a model in person?"
Smiling from ear to ear and giggling, Beverly said "You already have!. Here, let me show you..."
Beverly reached into her top desk drawer and pulled out a remote control module. It had several buttons. She pressed the lower right one, and a faint beep-beep came from her body. It sounded like a wrist watch alarm. She then reached down under her black leather knee length skirt, removed her black pantyhosed leg and handed it to me over the desk!
My eyes popped out of my head!. In total shock, I said "You...y...you are a Robot? H-how do you feel?"
As the leg laid across the glass covered desk, the I focused on the thin filaments an blinking LEDs inside the leg. I was speechless. Beverly responded,
"Yes, I am a Robot. A perfect female Robot. I am Beverly Model 2300XL. I have been one for about 3 years now. I feel really no different than before, and what you feel depends on your programming. I love my new body and life. I never get tired, sick, or depressed. I never have to eat. After a long day, I go to my room, plug into a tape backup device, plug into a standard home AC outlet(with surge protector, of course), and stand in my charging cabinet My batteries require at least 8 hours of a slow AC Charge. In the morning, I unplug, run a quick diag routine, and I am off to work, no hassles of putting makeup on, or dressing, or eating, just go!!."
I responded with "What happens if you--malfunction?"
"My vast state of the art software can actually detect about 97% of hardware problems before they happen. I must go once every 3 months for a routine inspection, where technicians run more strenuous diags against me, repair any damages to my exterior, and download any new updates to my circuits. I have only suffered a total breakdown once, where my batteries discharged all at once and I froze up. Other than that incident, I have had none."
"Please remember, when you are new, especially the first 3 months of operation, you are bound to have a part malfunction, even after the rigorous tests put before you at the factory. You are bound to have parts fail out of the box."
She held out her hand. "Please Molly, join this wonderful life. You won't be sorry."
I said that I would have to talk it over with Yvette. Laughing while re-attaching her leg, Beverly said, "Yvette has already agreed, and is currently at the factory for her initial consultation."
I couldn't say no to an offer like this--Beverly made the initial consultation for tommorrow at 10:00am. Beverly said she'd drive me there, since she needs an adjustment to her voice modulator.
I left, and drove to Yvettes apartment.
I arrived at Yvette's apartment, she was there, packing up the last of her things. Since this new life provides you with shelter over your head, the Custom Built Maids sent movers to move Yvette's belongings out. Yvette spoke to me very briefly, but was so excited about this whole endeavor, she couldn't wait for the transformation. She said goodbye, and that we'd see each other after the transformation. She is scheduled for her conversion tommorrow at 7:00am. I turned, got back in my car, and drove home. I thought if she is this positive about this, so am I! I drove home.
Part 2:
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I sat in the room, waiting and waiting. The room looked like a doctor's examination room, except it had computers, input jacks, consoles, parts cabinets, etc. One cabinet had a pair of legs in it, obviously factory replacement parts. Suddenly, a man and woman came in, and sat next to me.
"Hello Molly, my name is Dr. Stevens." he said, extending his hand. I shook it warily. "This is my assistant Nurse Lisa." He must have sense my hesitation, as he continued, "In case you are wondering, I am human, Nurse Lisa is an experimental Nurse model robot, or Nursebot. She is the future of healthcare, as you and your sisters are the future of domestic servitude. Say hello, Lisa."
In a sultry sex voice, Lisa said, "Hello, Molly," and reached her right hand out to shake mine. Her hand didn't feel like flesh, it was more like a latex glove. Her hands were smooth, with no fingernails. I looked down; her legs looked the same, but, covered with a very sheer pair of pantyhose. The odd texture made me gasp.
"Don't be alarmed, Molly. You will not have these hands." she explained. "Since I am in experimental mode, I will not get my flesh covered hands until I go into production." She saw my eyes gaze at her legs again. She said, "Go ahead, dont be shy, touch them, I will be sure to touch yours when you are complete!" I had to run my right hand up her leg, which was so soft, and it felt so human.
That was a relief.
"Now, lets get to work" said the doctor. The doctor explained the entire
procedure to me, took several samples of my hair and skin, blood tests,
urine tests, took several pictures of me from all angles, and I was required
to sign an numerous amount of forms, one particular form talking about...ownership
of my new body?
"Basically Molly, you will be 'owned' by Custom Built Maids, basically because you need us to repair you. Your initial title is owned by Perfect Maids Inc., and all your paperwork and technical manuals will be held by them. Upon completion, you will be shipped there via our own internal shipping crew in a satin lined box, which will be used as your charge cabinet. Your equipment in your room for day to day living will be set up by us, and you will be programmed as to when your service schedule is."
"Nursebot Lisa will spend the first few nights with you, in case you need assistance in charging, running diags, or need adjustments with your uniform. To tell you the truth, you are going to be one sexy robot when we are done with you. Maybe we will put you on display--just kidding--Please, you look a bit nervous, but please dont be, you are in good hands "
"I am not," I replied.
The doctor left and he instructed Nursebot Lisa to take me for a tour of the Maid Factory. We went into the main production area. There were 6 technicians working on maids in various stages of production. The 60 maid to my right was almost complete, a blond, in a total latex French Maid outfit, about 30ish, with a great figure. The latex was so tight, it looked like it was sprayed on.
"Her name is Aqua 2900H2--she will primarily be a Maid at poolside parties in a very humid environment, and the latex will protect her circuits from getting wet," explained the technician.
"Molly, look here, this is basically what your uniform will be like," Nurse Lisa said.
Looking at the model Cythia 4000, she had the same undergarments, or hardware all Custom Maids were required to wear, with a very soft, Victorian French Maid Uniform, satin gloves, and a posture collar hidden by the fluffy neck. She was a sight to see. Any man would love to grab her and hold her forever. Cynthia was still bald, and was going through some routine diagnostic routines as we looked her over.
I asked the technician if I could put her wig on. He handed me the wig, which was long and blond. I fitted the wig over her bare head, and snapped the 2 snaps into the very tiny holes in her head. I couldnt resist feeling her latex covered body. My sex was so excited...I couldn't wait for my transformation.
In the far corner, I saw a familiar face. It was Beverly. She was partly tilted forward, a panel in her back open, right above her tightly laced latex corset(just because she is the watch supervisor, she still must wear the standard hardware). Several cables were hooked up to her. There were LEDs blinking and blinking in her back panel. I tried to speak to her, but she was inactive. When I tried to speak to her, she responded in a computerized monotone voice "Service Mode--Beverly 2300XL is out of service..service--service-- temporarily." She still was skipping words. The technician said her voice modulator is in need of replacement, and is a time consuming job, since she will have to be basically unassembled. Custom Built Maids does not skimp on parts, so they would rather replace it than try to temporarily repair it. I felt sorry for her, and kissed her on the cheek, wishing her luck. She did nothing but stare into the toolbench before her.
I was escorted out of the building, and headed for home. In less than
24 hours, I will be a Custom Built Maid.