Maid for a Steal

Lisa

I glanced at my phone, checking the time. Time…precisely what Erin and I were running out of. Not that repeatedly verifying that fact helped. Looking around at the decrepit walls of our rented bathroom, now covered in a layer of chicken wire, I wondered if this was enough.

“You don’t have to do this,” Erin said, pointedly turning dark brown eyes towards my phone. She did not, however, let go of the chicken wire. “In fact, that sounds like a much better idea.”

I sighed. This really was a terrible plan, but I didn’t see many alternatives. Which meant we needed at least another layer. And a third and maybe fourth too, if that’s what it took to block signal to the room. Erin had said the steel wire made for a poor conductor and thus a subpar material for a Faraday cage, but our options were limited. They always had been.

With a shake of my head, I tossed my phone out into the hall behind me—out of reach. I didn’t have time for distractions anymore. Likewise, I said nothing as I resumed fixing the wire mesh Erin held up for me to the wall with a staple gun. Let that be Erin’s answer, I thought as we resumed working. A half hour later, we had almost finished applying a second layer on the wall opposite the bathroom when the doorbell rang…which was a nicer way of saying ‘not yet ready’.

“I’ll get that,” I offered, breaking the strained silence. “I want to see how this thing acts anyway.”

“Sure. I should be able to finish this up myself. I can’t imagine it being much longer.”

“Thanks.” Before leaving, I leaned in for a quick kiss. “I owe you.”

Erin chuckled, calling from the room, “No shit.”

It was a nice sound, one that always managed to lift my spirits and made the short walk to the front door free of the anxiety that had gripped me earlier. When I opened the door to welcome in the waiting maidbot, I almost believed this would work.

“Hello, this unit is here for a cleaning appointment with Lisa Lang.”

The image on Robo-Maids’ website didn’t do the thing justice.

Locks of wavy platinum cascaded down its back, so pale that if not for the white fringe of the uniform, the color would have been lost in the inky blackness of the rest of the latex. Supposedly, the choice of material made for easy cleaning. Regardless, I found the way it clung to the maidbot’s every curve and contour very easy on the eyes. From its delicate shoulders and large breasts, to its corset-narrowed waist and wide hips, the latex emphasized every centimeter of the manufactured body. A black choker with what looked like a polished oval of jade inset at its throat completed the image of a ‘traditional’ maid. Even in the dingy light of the hall, the thing looked fantastic. If not for those obsidian voids where eyes should be, this thing might have passed for human, at least until a second glance revealed its smooth skin, untouched by life.

It was the feminine perfection we all chased, but which no born person could ever obtain.

“Please confirm that you are Lisa Lang,” it said, drawing my attention back to the task.

“Oh right.” I grimaced. “Um, can you stay there a moment? I left my phone in the other room.”

“This unit would be happy to wait, but please be aware that the renter’s hour started upon this unit’s arrival at eight o’clock,” it said with an unchanging smile.

I closed the door behind me and studied that smile under my mind’s eye as I walked back towards the makeshift Faraday cage. Apparently, I had been doing more than just studying it.

“Yeesh Lisa, what’d I do to earn that look?”

The smile vanished. “Sorry, just practicing.” I bent down to pick up my phone. “I forgot this.”

“I figure I should be done in another twenty minutes,” Erin offered. “Do you think that will be enough time?”

“It’s what we have.”

She shrugged. “Fair enough.”

Phone in hand, I went back to the waiting bot. As if closing the door had stopped time, I found it standing in the same place, holding the same pose, with the same slightly off smile. And the same dead eyes. “Here,” I said, loading my ID and flashing it for the maidbot.

“Good day Ms. Lang, This unit is here to clean your domicile. Requesting permission to enter.”

I stepped aside; the thing didn’t budge. “Please come in and start on the kitchen.”

“Thank you,” it said. Long legs ending in spiky heels stepped over the threshold. “Please lead the way.”

“So, the place isn’t big, just three rooms plus the bathroom,” I said on the way to fill the silence. “Um, here’s the kitchen, the towels are here,” I said, opening a cupboard. Pointing, I added, “And cleaning supplies are under the sink.” Although cleaning materials could be rented along with the maidbots, providing them ourselves reduced the cost by 10 percent. Given that we had everything needed—save for black ink on our bank statement—it seemed best. Even then, I didn’t care if the thing actually did any cleaning.

“Thank you Miss. This unit shall proceed to clean the kitchen.”

Which is what it did, seemingly unperturbed by the way I stared at it from the doorway. More than stared, I studied it, paying attention to how it walked with a normal gate, talked in a normal tone, and—much to my relief—breathed like a normal person; only the precision of its movements and those glossy black eyes marked it as inhuman. That and its tendency to bend at the hips, flashing a bit more of its smooth, creamy skin than necessary. That made me smirk as I wondered who thought it appropriate. I suppose it would keep certain clients happy.

There didn’t appear to be that much for me to learn. Satisfied with my understanding of maidbots, I returned to check on Erin and offer assistance if needed. Glancing around our bathroom-turned-Faraday cage, it seemed finished. Indeed, Erin was just sitting on the toilet lid looking mopey. I understood.

“Hey,” I said softly, opening my arms in the small space.

Erin looked up with a start. Sighing, she stood to wrap her arms wrapped around my middle with her cheek resting against my collar bone. Another sighed escaped her. “I know you think you need to do this, but I really wish you’d reconsider,” she mumbled.

I gave her a squeeze. “Me too, but I’m already committed now. You know we can’t pay for this thing’s time.”

“We’d find a way.”

“This is us finding a way.”

That conversation once more rehashed, we fell silent for a time. But time was ticking away.

I stepped back, letting my hands trail along Erin’s arms to hold her own. “It’ll be fine,” I said, doing my best to sound confident—to convince myself. “I’m going to ‘get dressed’, could you take care of the maid?”

Erin answered with a fatalistic nod. Again, I understood, and turned back into the hall. A few more steps brought me to the bedroom where what looked like a flesh-toned catsuit lay waiting on our bed. The owner of a seasonal costume store said it was a used—and cleaned—maidbot costume. Having now seen a maidbot up close, I could at least agree that the flawless pale surface, free of irregularities or imperfections of any kind, matched up. Looking at my arm, I envied that perfection.

Erin deserved perfection.

Perhaps if I could make a large enough score I might be able to afford some dermal treatment. The thought encouraged me while at the same time making my eyebrows itch. I stripped them off along with my clothes and wig before widening the slit in the back of the suit to reveal a riot of pearlescent rainbows. It would have been beautiful if it wasn’t so reminiscent of bad meat. Also slick like rancid meat; I had no difficulties sliding it over my skin and figured it must be some kind of lube. Similarly, the tightness proved much less challenging than expected. Though the rubbery material did squeeze me, particularly around my middle, it otherwise yielded to my flesh as I pulled it on and my toes fit well in their individual sleeves. Getting the built-in catheter in was a bit uncomfortable—to say nothing of unusual—but not difficult. Likewise, pushing the vaginal and anal sheaths in present no issues, though did feel a bit strange and made me wonder what the last wearer might have done in this costume.

I didn’t think on that long.

Fortunately, the tension in the remaining material gave me something else to think on. Now up to my chest, I had to hunch over to get the rest of myself through the entry hole. Not an easy task, but once through, the suit snapped everything into place. Or at least my head which pushed through the neck with an audible pop.

I couldn’t breathe!

My eyes went wide as panic gripped me. That just made things worse: The instant they opened, the lenses settled over them, forcing my eyes to stay that way. I did, however, calm down a bit when I realized my air hadn’t been cut off completely and focused on taking slow, steady breaths. With a bit of squirming, I managed to work my arms into place. As a happy side effect, sometime during my struggles, the sinus tubes found their home. The coppery tasting mouth insert with tongue sleeve and ear pouches were a different story, but eventually I triumphed over the impractical fetishwear.

It was on, finally, and I allowed myself a sigh just to cringe at the voice synthesizer’s interpretation. I had asked the shopkeeper about talking with a tube down my throat and he had explained it had this feature. Being told to expect something like that didn’t make it any less of a surprise.

I began turning towards the mirror on top of my dresser, but stopped. Did I really want to see what I looked like? Did I need further confirmation?

Apparently, because moments later some feminine thing looked back with eyes black as pitch. From the crown of its bald head to the tip of its big toe, the creature was every centimeter a blank bioroid, ready to program, dress, and send on its way. It didn’t quite fill out the skin, but the tight uniform would likely take care of hiding the fact. Another undeniable fact: the feminine figure in the mirror was me.

“Hell of a costume,” I muttered. Or tried. The words came out clear, albeit monotone from the voice synthesizer. “I am maidbot unit 3-3-5-1-A, designation: Lisa-bot,” I said, trying to maintain the manufactured smile all bioroids seemed to have. I failed, bursting out laughing.

Or something remotely similar to laughter. “What?” Erin called. “Everything alright?”

I saw Erin approach from behind the creature in the mirror holding a star-shaped screwdriver. I turned, as much to look at my girlfriend as to shake off the sight of myself and the reminder of what I would be doing.

And how badly this could end.

“Wow,” was all Erin seemed to have to say on the subject.

I hesitated a moment knowing what I sounded like, eventually saying, “Yeah…”

“No, no, it, uh, looks good!” Erin said, waving her hands in front of her.

A smirk tugged at the corner of my rubber lips. I myself had thought it would make my skin look better: silky smooth with an even tone and a slight sheen. “You like?” The question was meant to sound seductive, but came out flat and lifeless—synthetic.

Erin chuckled. “I stripped the bot and got the collar off. Want me to bring the uniform in?”

“Please.”

Another chuckle. “Sorry,” Erin said over her shoulder. It only took a few seconds before she returned, holding up the uniform in one hand and a wig and headpiece in the other. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t eager to see what they look like on you,” she added with forced cheer.

I played along. “If nothing else we found something fun for me to wear,” I said, taking the items from Erin. “I’m pretty sure this uniform cost several times the rental fee.” Surprisingly, the costume had been cheap.

With a practiced hand, I put on the wig. My own hair had long since given in to my faulty immune system and gave out. Besides, it was a lot less hassle than having it styled, something I couldn’t afford anyway. Better still, I had nothing to shave.

The uniform, however, showed itself to be less straightforward. The corset top slipped over me easily enough, and the ruffled mini-skirt zipped onto the bottom of the corset just fine. Likewise the black latex stockings and gloves were pulled to mid thigh and bicep with ease, though I did make a bit of a show of it for Erin’s sake. Surprisingly, the 14cm heels fit well. We had taken care to find a maidbot which matched up with my own size, but that didn’t mean much when it came to spiky heels. “Looks like Lady Luck smiles on us today,” I commented. Let’s just hope I don’t pay for it later.

The laces of the corset, however, presented a challenge. I may not have been able to fill out the suit in some places, but sure had spare in others. “Mind helping me with this?” I asked, throwing a seductive smirk over my shoulder at an entranced Erin.

She shook off a dazed look and stepped forward. “Oh, the sacrifices I make.”

Corseting me down to 60cm proved, if not difficult, then very uncomfortable. Fortunately, it didn’t seem to adversely affect breathing too much, and it did have the expected effect of pushing my breasts up. “Okay, that’s hot,” Erin said, looking at me.

Having seen the same thing in the mirror, I had to agree and for more reasons than my discomfort. “I’m just glad it’s Fall.” Between the airtight suit and the latex uniform, I was very warm indeed. “Now we just need to put the collar on,” I said, moving to exit into the hall.

The first few steps weren’t among my steadiest, but I’d worn heels this tall a few times in the past. Hopefully it would come back to me before someone took note of a certain ungainly robot. Looking into the bathroom, I saw Erin had propped the maidbot up with its back against the toilet. I felt even more similar as I took in the naked form. Devoid of hair anywhere, some part of me said I was the one laying there with a serial number scrawled across her neck. At least I knew the creature in the mirror would pass as this thing at my feet.

“I didn’t want to take the collar out of the cage before it was closed around a neck,” Erin offered, looking pointedly at the choker on the back of the commode. “Ditto for the maidbot.”

You always were the smart one. “Right,” I said, stepping further in. I picked up the choker and turned it over, seeing a collection of metal contact points under the faux jade. I shrugged, and with a soft click, it closed around my throat.

“Now to lock it on,” Erin said as she came up behind me with the screwdriver. She added, “Sorry” before feeling the choker tighten minutely. “There, you’re all screwed up.”

“You don’t need to rub it in,” I joked. Neither of us laughed. Once I stepped out of the cage, the collar would contact the Robo-Maids’ home server and a magnetic lock would reengage. The reinforcing steel wire in the fabric band ensured it was on my mind: This was something I’d be stuck with until Erin could remove it for me. I turned around. “Well, let’s do this.”

Erin backed out and I followed, hearing the expected whirring of the magnetic lock. Then the two of us waited. Minutes passed as we stood in expectant silence for something to happen—specifically something bad—but all I noticed was the lock engaging when I first stepped out into the hall. In my research, I found that the collar only acted as an identification device and to connect a bot to the home servers. These collars might not have possessed any kind of control mechanism, but that research also brought me to Gromet’s Plaza—an ancient repository of all things kinky set up by a saucy Aussie—where it could only be expected that any collar, no matter how seemingly innocuous, would turn the wearer into a drone to be controlled.

“Anything?” Erin asked.

“How might this unit be of service Ms. Hill.”

“Lisa?”

“Lisa is no more. Only Robo-Lisa exists now!” Unable to keep up the act, I broke out into something akin to laughter, assuming laughter sounded like ball bearings in a blender. “I’m sorry.”

“Bad robot! You should be. I – ” From the direction of the kitchen, my phone rang and the two of us went still. “I guess I’ll get that.”

“It is a bit itchy,” I said, following behind Erin as she made for the kitchen.

Without bothering to look at the screen, she plucked it from the kitchen table. It wasn’t hard to guess who might be calling. “Hill…No, this is the correct number.” Erin threw a grimace my way. “Lisa’s just, uh, occupied with something right now. Is there something wrong with the maidbot?…It did do a thing a bit ago, but seems to be working fine now…Huh? But it’s still fully functional. No need to send it back as far as I can tell.”

Panic began clawing at my chest, and worse, I heard much the same in Erin’s voice. Hoping to encourage her, I gave a pair of thumbs up which seemed to lead Erin to some kind of Eureka moment.

“Would it help if you spoke with her?” Erin asked with alacrity. “…Here.”

I took a deep breath and then the phone. “Hello, how may this unit be of assistance?” Looking at Erin I shrugged. How were bioroids supposed to answer the phone?

“State serial number and registration,” the man on the phone said perfunctorily.

“5936AC5, registered to Robo-Maids L-t-d,” I rattled off in a single breath. Thank you eidetic memory! I thought. Let’s just hope noöne checks my neck!

“Perform a full diagnostic check.”

“Performing check.” This was something I had actually anticipated, and had watched holos of actual bots doing this. After a few minutes, I stated, “OS core verified, memory core verified, somatic emulator failed to verify, motor systems verified.”

The man groaned. “Hold.”

I used the opportunity to return Erin’s earlier grimace, but dared not say a word or even lower the phone from my ear. I sure wish I could. This posed the greatest threat to our plan, the one thing I couldn’t be certain I’d pass. A somatic emulator failure wasn’t a big deal since it wouldn’t prevent a maidbot from functioning, but who’s to say what this guy—or I suppose his supervisor—would think of the matter.

“Hello,” a pleasant woman’s voice spoke, as if eager to speak with me. “I understand you’re having some problems this morning.”

Err… “This unit is operational and capable of performing its duties.”

Silence followed, but not as if placed on hold. Rather, the woman on the other end simply remained quiet. Seconds passed, then a full minute. I looked over at Erin and shrugged.

“Yes. You are able to, aren’t you.” Another pause, shorter this time. “Please continue on with your assigned tasks. Verbal instructions will be provided at each stop. As for your appointment with Lisa Lang, I’ve removed it from the books as a result of this…inconvenience. So no charge. Please pass that on to the renter.”

“Understood, Miss.”

A few seconds later, the line went dead.

I sighed, slumping where I stood, or as best as the stiff corset allowed. “It looks like this might work.” With the hard part behind us, I could see just how worried I’d been. “Better still, they’re comping the bot’s time due to the ‘glitch’.”

“Oh good,” Erin replied, her words half a sigh themselves. “So…what now?”

I shrugged. “Now I wait for the company to take me to my—or rather the bot’s—next appointment.” Returning to the bedroom, I asked, “Would you mind keeping an eye out for them? I’ll likely be on my feet a lot today and would like to lie down while I can.”

“Sure,” Erin said, having followed. “And…thanks. I’m not happy with your plan, but I do appreciate the effort. It’s just…I love you and I’m worried.”

The bastardization of a sigh escaped me. I considered taking the shoes off before getting into bed, but I really didn’t want to deal with it. Even something so simple seemed monumental right now. “I don’t want to jinx this with over-the-top ‘good-bye’s or ‘I love you’s,’’ I said as I carefully laid down so as not to damage the comforter with my spiky heels. “It’ll be fine. Please watch for people. Call me when you see them.”

Erin nodded, and without another word left. Once the click of the front door announced my girlfriend’s exit, I sagged into the lumpy mattress, another awkward sigh escaping my…lips? Whatever.

This had all seemed so simple at the costume shop. Dress as a maidbot and knock off some rich folk. I had wondered at the time why more people didn’t do it. Erin had wasted no time clearing up how ‘simple’ it would be. Security systems don’t know what maidbots look like, that’s what the collars are for; a human would notice any of the knock off uniforms the two of us could afford; and I couldn’t just walk into someone’s home without an appointment. There are so many complications and I had anticipated none of them. Only the potential reward presented itself when I purchased the outfit. To think, all I wanted was a bit of mistress-on-maid role play.

I chuckled mirthlessly, the synthesized sound putting truth to this reality: I was in for more than a little role play. It was the only way to get an official maidbot collar; it was the only way to get a believable maidbot uniform without breaking the bank; and it was the only way to know where to be. Despite her very vocal opposition to this plan, Erin had been the one to work out the details. Those sorts of things were beyond me. Had it not been for some unexpected expenses, this whole thing would have been unthinkable. Not only could I get caught and arrested, some nagging voice in the back of my head kept saying I might end up as a maidbot for real.

Running a hand over myself and listening to the crackling of latex on latex, I couldn’t find the possibility entirely terrible.

My phone’s ringtone shook me from the thought. Let’s hold onto that for tonight. First checking the screen, I answered. “Hey.”

“They’re here,” Erin whispered. I could all but see a suspicious black woman skulking behind a lamppost. “They are entering—the building.”

“Thanks.” I sat up. “I guess I’d better get ready.” Not that there was any more prepping once I put the maid cap back on.

“They’re bots, but still. Be careful.”

“I will. Let’s plan on some role play this evening to celebrate; no reason this outfit can’t serve its original purpose too.”

“Sure,” Erin said dismissively. “Just come back.”

“I will. I love you.”

“Love you too.” She hung up.

I swung latex sheathed legs over the edge of the bed and got out. Laying down and processing had helped ease some of my concerns, but now I needed to move. First out of the bedroom, then to the front door where I waited. Given the effort that took, perhaps I hadn’t done enough laying down and processing. It’s too late to back out now.

Too late indeed. I hadn’t even checked my cap before the doorbell rang. “That was fast.” Or I’m slow. I gave myself a shake. I couldn’t hesitate. Hesitation would get me caught, but hesitate was exactly what I did when I went to open the door. Do maidbots answer the door? Another grating sigh escaped my rubber lips. I need to stop doing that!

I opened the door. If the two vaguely female bots dressed in grey coveralls found that unusual, they didn’t show it.

One of them held out what I assumed to be some kind of scanner. Apparently satisfied it said, “Unit 5936AC5, follow,” before turning and heading down the hall.

Done hesitating, I followed them through the hall and past the elevator to the stairs, hoping the former was acting up again. It couldn’t have been protocol. I simply refused to accept that and tamped down the horror that I might be expected to walk up flight after flight of stairs in these ankle-rending heels that already have my back radiating a dull ache out of sympathy. In that instant, I felt thankful for the support offered by the restrictive corset.

Our procession ended at a powder blue van featuring the company logo of a busty blonde bombshell with a hand on her hip and the other holding a feather duster. The bots didn’t stop their motion; one of them opened the back, revealing a line of maidbots dressed like me standing on either side of the interior. Each stared vacantly ahead at the harnessed maid opposite it, their faces free of the usual affected smile.

The sound of doors closing prompted me to look to either side of me—I couldn’t see my escorts. No hesitating!

Easier said than done when you’re dressed in a rubber maid outfit and expected to climb into the back of a creepy van. But I followed my own advice and stepped up into the back, doing my best to ignore how much skin this uniform was exposing in the process. At least I don’t have to hunch. Despite towering footwear and my already impressive stature, I managed to avoid hitting my head on the ceiling. Well, maidbots do have a lot of leg to accommodate.

I closed the door behind me, plunging the already disconcerting space into darkness.

For better or worse, that lasted but an instant before a red light flicked on, casting strange shadows over the interior. I swallowed a groan and sidled over to an unoccupied harness just to loose a half stifled yelp as my foot found a hole in the floor. Taking a moment to examine the hole as best I could in the low light, I found what seemed to be an impression the general size and shape of a high heeled shoe, a theory proven correct by slotting in my own feet before securing myself to the wall with the harness.

No sooner had the harness clicked shut then the van sped off, and the purpose for both the slots and harness became evident. Despite standing in such extreme footwear, I had no difficulties staying upright and hardly rocked as the vehicle turned corner after corner. Realizing I wasn’t about to topple over, and having passed the second test in this endeavor, I allowed myself a deep breath. Not a sigh, just a long, slow breath to steady myself emotionally.

Better…Now if only I could do something about this itch. Scratching wasn’t helping. It seemed like something I’d just have to deal with until Erin could help remove this suit. So instead I tried to relax as best I could and allowed the harness to take some of the weight off my feet. It would have been nice if I could have blocked out the lifeless black orbs staring at me from the other side of the van, but I could no more close my eyes than it could. I did manage not to think about what it might make of me.

The van slowed to a stop and I took the opportunity to scratch my nose one last time. Note to self: don’t buy used costumes.

However, it was the harness of the maidbot to my left which snapped open. Turning to look, it seemed as if the harness had opened on its own, releasing the maidbot. Rather than leaving as I would have expected, it moved to what looked like a Plexiglas tube in the back. I couldn’t get a good look at it in the dim light from my spot near the door, but I heard the rushing of some fluid and when the maidbot stepped to the door, it seemed to sparkle. The fresh looking maidbot then opened the back and stepped out, closing the door behind it.

The van made three more stops—two pickups and one drop off—before my turn came around. The harness clicked open and a pressure from clamps I hadn’t noticed released my feet. After a quick look towards the back of the van—or really the front I suppose—I decided I hadn’t really gotten dirty. With as much grace as I could muster, I moved to open the door, remembering at the last moment to smile that fake smile.

Now where am I supposed to go?

As if reading my mind, a waiting transport bots said, “You are to clean the apartment of Mr. Smith for one hour.”

“Acknowledged,” I said a bit too soon. By the time I realized I didn’t so much as know which apartment complex to find Smith in, the van had left. For that matter, which Smith?

My situation having taken an unexpected turn, I stood there. Not so much to orient myself in this farce, but to gather the will needed not to sigh, grimace, or do any of the other things a human might when chagrined. Once confident I could take a step without drawing any more attention to myself, I strode to the nearest build which looked like it might contain a Smith. Which was to say: the nearest building.

According to the directory in the lobby, it did indeed contain a Smith: an A. Smith, a J. Smith, and an R. Smith. Right… I started with A.

“Smith,” an aged female voice croaked from the comm.

Unsure what to do, I pressed the next.

“Yeah?” A gruff man’s voice; I was getting somewhere.

“This unit has a cleaning appointment with a Mr. Smith.”

“…Sure, come on up. 11-23” A latch clicked open.

This couldn’t be good, but what was I to do other than comply and hope this was my assignment? Moreover, this didn’t seem like a good mark. Though the freshly painted walls of the lobby—or a lobby in general—and well lit halls made for a definite step up from my own apartment, the vinyl tile seemed scuffed and poorly cared for; I doubted this Mr. Smith had much worth taking.

Not seeing many options, I moved towards the elevator. I didn’t know if bots used the things, but I could ill afford wasting time on the stairs and certainly had nothing to do with my footwear. Into the elevator I stepped and up the shaft it went, then down the long hall. Of course he’s at the end.

Fortunately, I didn’t have to wait long after knocking. It opened, revealing a face to match the voice in shorts and a wife beater. Now what? Thinking back to when I answered the door this morning, I said, “Hello, this unit is here for a cleaning appointment with Mr. Smith.” Then thinking of a way to confirm this was the place, I followed with, “May I see your appointment confirmation?”

He looked to the side and grunted before closing the door.

In truth I felt relieved: he seemed the gross, handsy sort. I didn’t think I could have completely shrugged off that sort of treatment. Still, this meant I had to find the correct Smith.

Back in the lobby, the remaining option didn’t respond. Well, I wasn’t exactly expecting much of this place anyway. That little ray of sunshine didn’t do as much to raise my spirits as I had hoped, but it was enough to tear me from the building and move on to the next.

Now if only the next building had been any better. Though there was a Smith, again the renter failed to respond. At least I didn’t waste time walking there on my increasingly sore feet, but every moment spent looking for this guy worsened my tardiness and I feared that should my performance be too terrible I may be sent back to the factory or something. That always seemed like a common issue in those Maidbot.net stories. Maybe I’ll get lucky and they’ll send me back to Erin?

That thought had been a mistake, but noöne seemed to notice my human smile. I needed to keep from doing things like that…and surreptitiously scratching my leg. At least that’s better than scratching between my legs. Seriously, you pushed a used fetish costume inside yourself? Sometimes I’m amazed by my own stupidity. It didn’t smell like fish did it?

Nope, not thinking of that. Think of loot. Phat loot. I’ll knock off some rich jerk with more money than he needs and then do something about this thing… And so my inner monologue went as I made for the next building. Fortunately this building had only one Smith. Moreover, the interior seemed much nicer, at least from the outside. I swiped through a list of names, selected J. Smith, and hoped.

“Hello?” called an aggravated man’s voice.

“Hello, this unit has come from Robo–”

“Fucking finally!”

The comm went dead and a click emanated from the glass door. Testing the door’s brass handle, I pulled it open, revealing a promising interior. Soft lighting, warm woods, and clean everything marked this as a much nicer apartment complex. Finally indeed, I thought as I made my way to the correct Mr. Smith, noting the spring in my step and the smile on my face. I was being a very bad maidbot and promptly fixed both failings.

Arriving, I rang the bell outside the man’s apartment and waited. It didn’t take long for a red faced man dressed in a grey polo and tan slacks to open the door. “Fucking finally,” he said again, this time sound more relieved than aggrieved. He stepped back, a clear invitation inside. Not wanting to test the man further, I took it despite not being the maidbot-thing to do. He closed the door behind me. “My in-laws will be here in an hour and Adele’s mother already thinks I’m a useless louse. Redundant? I know, and so is she, but so long as my wife won’t stand up to her I’m stuck putting up with her shit. I need the extra help today, and so I rented you, but you’re late!” he finished, panting.

“This unit was given insuff–” I tried explaining.

“I don’t care! And I’ll be getting enough back talk from that bitch, I don’t need it from a fucking robot!” He closed his eyes and took a breath. “Happy thoughts John…happy thoughts…”

John Smith? Wow, talk about generic.

“If you could clean the kitchen, that should be good enough,” he said, visibly calmer, the red having bled not only from his face, but also his tone. He gestured for me to follow and began walking. “I’ve already put everything you need on the counter,” he said pointing. As he walked out, he added, “I’ll be doing this and that in the meanwhile.”

Looking around the disaster area he called a kitchen, I thought, Well then…. Pots, pans, and assorted cookware had been stacked on the counters and even the floor; splatterings of whatever he seemed to have prepared were ubiquitous. The side of me towards the oven was getting warm, and I could only guess that if not for the plugs in my nose I’d be able to smell it. It would probably just make my stomach growl. Yet another problem I had failed to consider until now.

Enough! I needed to focus. I may have been there to rob him, but I also needed to make sure I didn’t come across as a bad bot. After all, bad bots get sent to the factory for formatting, a notion I did not care for. Besides, I couldn’t burgle the place with him flitting about, so I got to it. Scrubbing dishes might not have been my favorite activity, but I had plenty of experience and it was something to take my mind off my feet and this persistent itch. It also gave me a chance to appreciate the choice of material used for the uniform: With the long latex gloves I didn’t get any of the gross stuff on me. Not that I actually had any of my own skin exposed, but somehow it brought me comfort all the same. Perhaps the latex really is for more than looks.

As I finished, I put the clean cookware on a drying rack I found. He didn’t tell me to, but I had to put them somewhere to get at the counters. This whole maidbot thing is a lot harder than I expected. I anticipated much more instruction when I set out earlier, starting with the full name and address of whoever I was being rented to and going from there. Nope. It made me wonder if perhaps they normally received directions from their home server, a thought I found comforting. So often in the stories I had read, a collar would input information and instructions directly into the victim’s mind, but I’m getting nothing of the sort. Kind of wish I would. Either way I was here, working.

Then the doorbell rang.

“Of course she’s early!” John decried. I wasn’t so sure.

The sound of the door opening wafted my way. “Hello renter,” the vaguely feminine voice I associated with transport bots said, “your rental unit’s time is up.”

“It was nearly a half hour late!”

“Your concern has been noted.”

I put down the rag I had been wiping the counter with and stepped towards the front door. John was still arguing with the robots—an amusing display—which simply repeated the same thing: If John wasn’t happy, he would need to talk to a customer service rep. When I arrived he shook his finger at me and honestly, I’m not sure what exactly he said. I just tuned him out. It seemed best if I wanted to maintain character. I did allow myself to think how he was only wasting time by berating me, but kept that to myself.

Eventually the transport bot said, “This unit and unit 5936AC5 will now depart.”

“You can’t just leave!” John protested. “My hour isn’t up yet!”

I walked past him and out, making sure to keep my face turned away. There simply was no keeping a straight face, but by the time we made it to the elevator I had recovered my vapid smile. As for the transport bot, I half expected it to say something to me or ask why I had been late. Instead it just continued on in stoic silence. After all, it was just a mindless automaton with a simple task queue, existing to get me and the other maidbots from one location to the next. Dealing with aggravated customers likely butted up against the limits of its programming.

Back at the van, I climbed in and found another open harness. Just like before, I secured myself where I stood and sagged into the restraint. I sighed. The sound had already escaped me by the time I thought to stop myself and I looked around as if expending someone to take note. Noöne did. The maidbots remained in their seemingly deactivated state, unperturbed by their peer’s uncharacteristic behavior. So I did it again, taking a deep breath and letting it out. That feels better. I just finished my first assignment as a maidbot and I was already worn out.

“Whatever,” I allowed myself to mumble, forgetting that the synthesiser couldn’t do that. I chuckled. “Whatever.” Noöne could hear me, or at least noöne who’d say anything, and Erin’s and my research indicated the collars couldn’t be used as listening devices due to privacy concerns. Had that been possible, I’d have been caught already.

As a pale substitute for closing my eyes, I allowed them to lose focus. The maidbots were still there—I could almost feel them—but they faded into the background as we picked up more and dropped off others. I rested. Unlike those around me I needed to conserve my energy.

By the time my harness clicked open, I had started feeling better and allowed myself another grating chuckle. “Recharged,” I said. Though increasingly hungry and thirsty, I found my short rest surprisingly refreshing. The locked back door, however, was less than comforting. “Huh?” I tried again, giving it a good yank that almost landed me on my butt.

The door barely even rattled.

Thinking on every other maidbot who had exited, I looked behind me at the miniature cleaning station and grimaced. “Fine,” I huffed to the empty room and stomped my way over to the Plexiglas tube running from floor to ceiling. Entering through a small door lined with black rubber, I stepped into another pair of high heeled impressions. There wasn’t a harness for me to secure myself into, but I supposed the maidbots only use the cleaning station when the van is stationary.

A strange mask connected to the ceiling by a thick tube dropped in front of me along with a thinner, longer tube. Thinking about the sound of fluid when the other maidbots went through this, it made a sort of sense as the mask seemed like it would cover my mouth and nose. I pulled the strap over the back of my head, ensuring the larger of three tubes went down my throat and the two above that in my nose. Despite expectations, my holes accepted the tubes with ease.

When nothing happened I examined the smaller tube. Much like the three tubes coming from the mask, this one ended in a plug. I groaned with realization and connected it to the catheter, but was again pleasantly surprised by an easy and painless insertion.

The cleaning station seemed to take that as a signal that I was ready and some sort of fluid rushed into and over me, while other fluid rushed out. It all happened so fast that I couldn’t really keep track of it all until a tingly, full body burning sensation focused my attention. I figured some of it must have gotten into the suit because the itch I had been enduring turned into a blazing inferno that felt like it might consume me. Reflexively I tried clawing at the uniform as if stripping it away would better protect me from whatever harsh chemicals the cleaning station seemed to use, but my rubbered fingers found no purchase. Fortunately, the torrent of cleaning fluid didn’t last long; as quickly as it started, the fire on my skin ceased.

The machine paused a moment before I felt what might best be described as flying fuzzballs buffeted me from all directions. For a moment my vision went white and my ears rang, but passed almost as soon as it came. Who could blame either for acting up with this confusing mess all around me?

After what felt like ten minutes, though I knew it could only have been two or three, the air buffer thing stopped. As a final step, the machine unlaced and relaced the corset before the tube door opened. Stepping out I noticed how much tighter it was. Also, that I sparkle like the sun even in this dimly lit space.

As spectacular as I likely looked, I couldn’t have gotten out of the cleaning station sooner.

Rather than heading out, I leaned against the wall where I had rested earlier to just kind of catch my breath. The cleaning station had been more than I bargained for, but it was over now and my reward had yet to be claimed. At least whatever they just pumped into my stomach took care of my needs and the cleaning solution that seeped into the suit fixed the itching. In fact, I was feeling pretty good. I frowned reflectively before taking a deep breath and exited the van.

A transport bot was waiting, its expression as neutral as ever. “Your assignment is in there,” it said, pointing towards a tower of glass and steel. Appearing to have said all it intended, the bot walked off.

Shit! “This unit has not been given its assignment,” I said, doing my best to keep panic from my tone. Panic is not a very maidbot emotion and the sidewalk thronged with bodies.

The transport bot didn’t so much as acknowledge I spoke.

I stood there feeling dejected, but I knew I had to do something so I walked up to the indicated building’s door. Maybe someone there is going to point me to whomever?

If by ‘someone’ I had meant ‘the door’, then yes. “RFID detected: Hold,” the security panel beside the door announced. The panel beeped and the door opened, expectantly. The blue line that appeared under my feet, was not so expected, but whatever. Presuming this would lead me to my appointment, I followed. That’s what mattered, that I get where I need to, though thinking on it, this all seemed pretty high-tech.

The thought encouraged me. A place like this couldn’t be cheap which meant lots of stuff to steal. I was so excited that I hardly noticed the trip before finding myself at the end of the line. Literally. The blue line I had been following terminated at a door. Guess this is the place. The click of the lock opening upon my approach confirmed it. Now if only every build—namely that last one—could have something so convenient. Turning the handle I let myself in.

A little piece of me died when I flipped the lights on: Every conceivable surface was covered in dirty dishes, laundry, and trash. If nothing else, this constituted a tripping hazard with my heels, but it also meant finding anything of value would be made that much more difficult.

“Just don’t touch my figurines,” a male voice said, seeming to come from no particular direction.

I jerked my head to one side trying to put a face to the voice and almost whipped around to look the other way before concern grew that someone might be watching. “This unit will not touch the renter’s figurines,” I said, both in hopes of covering for my earlier reaction and to give myself time. At the least, I succeeded at the latter. As far as I could see, noöne else was present: it had been a recording. Still, I didn’t relax. Behind the one-way lenses I cast questing eyes in search of cameras, but found none. That didn’t mean there weren’t any. Playing it safe, I decided to assume there were cameras and that I just couldn’t see them. At this rate I won’t even make back the cost of this suit!

The thought terrified me more than getting caught. I couldn’t fully comprehend the latter, but I was viscerally familiar with the accumulation of more debt. Not wanting to tempt fate, I began cleaning, starting with the ubiquitous trash. It seemed like the most straightforward thing I could do, and I needed straightforward to collect my thoughts.

This was only my second stop and it wasn’t yet noon. There would be plenty of opportunities in the future and I just had to keep at it. Rushing would only bring about the worst possible results so until the transport bots came to collect me I would wade through this dump—expensive as it might be—and clean. Also, not touch the figurines. Thinking of which made me curious, and twenty minutes of bagging rubbish was pretty much my limit.

Peeking through a random door revealed an enclosed balcony where the greenery of hanging plants provided a moment’s respite. Green, living things weren’t common in my day-to-day life, and the sight seeped into my weary soul, giving me another idea as to what I might get with my pilfered profits. Continuing on, I found a disaster of a kitchen and a small bedroom, the latter of which almost certainly lacked cameras given the particulars of the mess there. Despite knowing what the room would have smelled like had I been able, the bed still called for me and my calves were joining the chorus.

I found this man’s treasure in the room opposite the bedroom.

Oak bookcases full of graphic novels from Japan and America stretching from floor to ceiling lined the walls. An impressive sight even if they weren’t made of real paper, but it was the center display that really took me aback. Glass curio cabinets full of what might best be described as ‘Sailor “Full” Moon’ figurines took up most of the space. I also found those cameras I had been looking out for.

Four of them, one in each corner of the ceiling—even if I could make it out of there with something valuable, such as a real book, I’d get caught in a heartbeat. As it were, someone already was going to catch a certain maidbot staring at a certain figurine for longer than is appropriate for a machine…or person. But this proves there’s money to be made! Though not what I had been after, I was glad for this discovery.

I turned around and closed the door. Scanning the main room, I decided I’d done enough and made for the bedroom. Though the sanity of laying on any surface here might have been questionable, I decided it was okay since the suit covered my entire body. Besides, I could just go though that awful cleaning station again. I needed to rest when I could and so I closed the door and climbed into the bed…

…and groaned at the luxuriousness of it, the odd stains fully forgotten. My body just sank into the soft mattress without anything poking me where it shouldn’t and soon my mind sank into a deep sleep.

---

“Return to the van,” A voice boomed from all directions.

I sat bolt upright, momentarily confused. I couldn’t tell where I was or why my skin felt funny. I began calling out for Erin, but then remembered I had laid down while pretending to be a maidbot. I am getting us one of these! Once out of bed, I committed the mattress’s make and model to memory before heading back down, again guided by that helpful blue light on the floor. Idly, I hoped the next stop would be like this one. Despite the apartment’s condition, the whole experience had been much better. Even with the cleaning station, I’d take this over that first one.

I did find it strange when the blue line continued out the door and along the sidewalk, and more unusual still when it led down a shady alley. I didn’t especially care for the idea, but lacking a better notion of where else to go, I followed. Good thing too since it ended at the rear of the van. “Huh…” I allowed myself before climbing in and harnessing myself to the wall. As soon as the harness clicked closed, the van moved on.

As I stood there trying to rest, my earlier nap started to seem like a bad idea for reasons I hadn’t considered at the time. I didn’t feel nearly as tired during this trip and found my mind wondering—reflecting—something I’ve done precious little of. Yeah, maybe this wasn’t a great idea. So far I’d spent a month’s wages on a fancy catsuit and twice that still for the maidbot rental. It was a stroke of luck that company rep had refunded my money, but I hadn’t counted on that. Instead I expected to waltz into some rich guy’s mansion and rob him blind. Though I have only been to two places so far, the last visit did more than illustrate that there were things to steal: It showed that I didn’t really have a way to actually sneak anything out. I’d have called Erin if I could—she always seemed to know what to do—but that didn’t seem like much of a possibility.

Sighing, I accepted that this might have to be a dry run of sorts.

At least the itching had stopped. That wash may have hurt like crazy, but whatever was in there seemed to have sanitized the inside. And the suit did protect me from whatever might have been on that bed. Couldn’t say this had gone too badly. Even if all I managed was to find something small I could tuck away someplace, then it was like getting this suit for free, something Erin and I could enjoy together. That pleasant thought helped, but not enough. I was still surrounded by creepy, life-sized dolls with void-like eyes staring into my own forever open black orbs. And the lighting didn’t do them any favors either.

My thoughts then cycled around to wishing I hadn’t taken that nap. Not due to potential residue from the man’s fantasies, but rather from an inability to just lose focus and let time pass. I tried, but my mind was having none of it.

Time for something drastic: stand-up comedy.

Except I couldn’t seem to just come up with a joke on the spot. “Rejoice! You have all been spared the horror that is my sense of humor.” I sighed. “On the plus side noöne can boo me.”

At least it gave me something to think of. Trying to construct some joke in this situation was much preferred to thinking about most anything else my brain seemed capable of at the moment, but it quickly turned into its own source of stress. “Though I’ve been wanting to go to a costume party for a while, I did imagine it would be a bit different. It’s no fun when we’re all dressed the same way. Kind of like seeing 50 slave Leia’s at a Star Wars convention. Though I’m okay so long as there isn’t a Jabba there.” I chuckled. “I guess I am already on the Jabba.” Yeah, any human audience would have dismembered me for that one. “And here I’ve been saying I needed to be a good maidbot. I’m pretty sure that’s the sort of thing that would get me sent to the recycler.”

That made me smile, and the lightheartedness helped me go back to fantasizing about the things I might buy if I managed to steal something really nice. Another chuckle escaped me. “I’m not so sure Erin would be happy with me giving her a food gift.” Considering some of my cooking, it occasionally did come across as poison. “It might be kinder to just…okay, I lost the thread of that. Something about her not wanting children…”

I’m pretty sure the bots back here would have gained sentience and mauled me had I attempted another bilingual joke so it was extremely fortuitous when my harness opened when the van came to its next stop.

I started heading to the door, but paused. Looking behind me at the cleaning station I wondered if I’d be forced to go through that again. That apartment certainly made me feel dirty and wouldn’t it be better if I chose to go in there? “Yeah, may as well,” I said, making my way there.

Slotting in my feet, I mentally braced myself. However the expected torment didn’t come. The mask and catheter needed inserting, and the cleaning regiment repeated, but this time there was none of the unpleasantness: no burning, no white lights, no buzzing. The station didn’t even relace my corset. It still buffeted me with fuzz balls, and the sensation of having my stomach filled with something while my bladder was forcibly drained will never be pleasant, but on the whole it wasn’t terrible.

“Not terrible,” I mused as I stepped out. “A good descriptor of my day so far.” Not good either.

Then I exited the van. On second thoughts…

‘Stunning’ might be another good descriptor of the day. As in, the sight right outside the van left me momentarily stunned. The mansion surrounded by a hedge wall was everything I had hoped for when this plan first formed: the quintessential target. It even had a fountain, judging by the sound of burbling water behind me.

A whirring sound broke the trance, and I turned to look at a wheeled cart that had been set on the ground before the van left, catching a glimpse of that fountain as I did so. I had been wondering about the carts I had seen offered on the website since none of the other maidbots left with one. My assumption had been that a separate vehicle handled those stops that needed cleaning supplies. Guess not. Eager to get inside, I grabbed the handle and headed towards the front door.

My jaw dropped as I stepped into an opulent foyer and it took a moment for me to remember there may be cameras. In fact, if there were cameras anywhere, it would be here. Well, and the treasure room. I mean…surely a place like this would have a treasure room, right? A nice juicy dragon’s stash ripe for someone to sneak in and take it. Noöne needs this much money.

I on the other hand did, but nothing in life is free, even if you steal it. Remembering myself, I closed my mouth, thinking of how Erin would tease me about catching flies. Which just made me want to laugh, another ‘Don’t do it!’ for a maidbot. Seriously, focus! This is the sort of place you were hoping for! First, though, I needed to figure out what to do.

“You are to start with the kitchen, then the bathrooms before moving on to vacuuming the carpets and mopping the floors,” a new omni-present voice said, female this time. Unlike the last stop, I did not search for it, knowing that it was due to some kind of weird intercom system. I wasn’t sure how they managed that ‘disembodied voice from everywhere’ thing, but I also didn’t have the kind of money to project blue lines on the floor either.

Actually, that’s kind of weird. A solid blue line led out of sight, presumably to the kitchen. Unless this wasn’t really hardwood? That made sense: Wood is expensive whereas some kind of eInk display would be cheap. Maybe? Besides, I needed to get to work, not question the workings of modern mansions. So pulling the cart behind me, I simply followed the line though halls lit by soft lighting that turned on as I walked. Once in the kitchen, however, I could only wonder what exactly the owner of that voice expected me to clean. Every surface seemed to sparkle already and I wondered if they ever used the room.

I also noticed a new line, this one green. I guessed it led to the bathroom for when I finished in here. Well, uh, it’s not like there’s anything to clean here. After looking around a bit more to make sure I hadn’t missed anything, I followed the green line. It quickly became apparent on my way to my next destination that I was alone, a realization that forced me to keep my smile inside. It wouldn’t do for my already suspicious behavior to include a devious smirk.

The line led to the master bathroom, a space about half the size of Erin and my entire apartment. Another blue line led out of the room which I assumed led to another bathroom. What really caught my eye were a pair of earrings in front of one of the mirrors.

I managed to resist my inner magpie and instead set my mind to cleaning. That meant I needed something to tidy up in this seemingly immaculate room, but the owners probably weren’t the sort to bother scrubbing their own toilets so I set about looking for a brush. No surprise: they didn’t have one. My cart, on the other hand, did. With brush and squeeze bottle in hand, I moved to attack the toilet just to find it completely clean. Does anyone actually live here?

Regardless, I felt like I needed to clean something and was already poised for the toilet. So a squirt of cleaning fluid and a few swipes of the brush later, I declared it done and walked over to the bathroom counter, scanning the ceiling for cameras in the process. And I kept scanning as I wiped those down with a cloth from the cart, using the mirror to improve my field of vision. As expected, I found nothing.

Still, I swiped the earrings surreptitiously with a cleaning cloth…only to realize I didn’t really have a place to put them. My uniform lacked pockets. What it did have—what it did do—was give me plenty of cleavage. I rolled my eyes. Yeah, noöne would look there. Checking my surroundings one last time, I quickly worked the pair of diamond studded, platinum earrings between my breasts. If there were any cameras, I’d certainly be found out from the performance, but it’s not like they had my face, fingerprints, or anything else to identify me by. So long as they didn’t come unclasped and jab me, I’d be okay.

With nothing to do here, I moved on to the next doing much the same, but before I could finish this next one, a different omni-present voice accosted me. “Maid! Get your ass to the kitchen,” it said shrilly.

The blue line that had previously led to my next destination turned red. That’s never a good sign, especially when paired with a voice like that. Unsure as to whether to pack things up or urgently move my butt to the kitchen, I decided to just go: Whatever the issue might be, I wanted it resolved sooner than later.

As I walked along the red line, anxiety built. I couldn’t imagine I’d been found out, but it also seemed odd for the scowling teen girl waiting for me to have found fault with my work. I mean, the kitchen was already clean. Right?

“This is not clean,” she pronounced with fists tightly pressed against her hips.

Okay, I guess she could. “The kitchen was already clean when this unit arrived.”

“Did you mop the floor?”

I could see myself in the floor! “No miss, this unit did not.”

Somehow, her face reddened, cooling only as an impish smirk began forming. “And where are you cleaning supplies?”

This can’t be good. “This unit left them in a bathroom.”

“Then you’ll just have to lick it clean,” she said haughtily.

Um, no, I don’t have to and won’t you little brat! Having been planning something illegal, I had ensured there wasn’t something in the agreement that might catch me up. Not that I had anything in mind aside from perhaps some privacy thing, but I read the agreement all the same. “According to paragraph four of the second section of the renters – ”

“Nope, you can stop there. I don’t care.”

Uh, what? Regardless, I didn’t seem to have much choice in the matter if I was to keep up the act. Until she gave me an order I did have to comply with, I’d just stand here. Simple as that. I didn’t want to scrub toilets anyway even if they were clean.

Appearing to take the hint, the child stared at me a moment before tapping and swiping at her watch. “Hello? Yes, this is Evaline Rich…” she said, fists once more at her hips. She proceeded to provide her address and confirm some account number off her watch before going through a phone tree. I wasn’t sure where this would lead, but it couldn’t be good. Not that I could do much about it. “Hello?…Yes, I’m having trouble with the maidbot rented to me…Oh?” She looked my way. “I did think it was talking funny, but just thought we were sent an older model…Sure…That works. Thank you.” She laughed. “Yes, thank you.”

She is way too happy for this to be anything but bad. I could have lived a long time without confirmation of that premonition, but my muscles seized anyway. Though not especially painful, this was a terrible time for my body to lock up. Oh bad. Bad, bad, bad.

Putting her phone away, Evaline walked up to me. “Someone will be by to pick you up. Until then, just hold tight, yeah?” Laughing again, she walked out of my field of vision.

I needed to get out of there. I needed to get this collar off me. I needed to do a lot of things in that very instant and none of them were actually possible. Bad robots get formatted, I uselessly reminded myself. If nothing else I had to make sure I never made it to the factory. But what were my options? I tried moving a finger to see if I could. It moved, barely, but I did manage to move it. I didn’t know how the collar was doing this since it wasn’t supposed to be able to interface with a person, but it was the only thing on me that made sense.

Just wait. You don’t want to get caught; that also would be bad. So just chill. You can hop out of the van outside the factory. You can move, it’s just hard. So just chill until they come. Great advice, not that I had much choice in the matter. I didn’t even know where I was. Instead of worrying over that I focused on what I did know and tried to figure out how I was being controlled.

The only thing I could think was that I had purchased a real maidbot skin. While reading about the collars, it said that they couldn’t control the bioroid, that the skin did that. Recalling the inside of this particular suit, I should have known that rainbowy sheen held some significance. I still didn’t know how that might control me, a human, but that mattered a lot less than getting this thing off. I wouldn’t be able to remove all of it thanks to the collar, but I should be able to at least free my limbs enough to move. Once I got home, Erin could help with the rest. Although, if I went home, it might track me and implicate us.

“Excuse me sir, may I borrow your phone?” Sure, that could work. It better work since that’s the best I could come up with by the time a pair of vaguely feminine bots arrived with a large hand truck.

One of them tilted me forward while the other slid the platform under my feet. After a bit of rocking and some straps, they had me secured and carted off. All the while I stayed very, very still. Not that I was particularly mobile at the moment, but even if I were, I’d still have done my best to be a good little robot until I could extricate myself from this situation. While impersonating a robot isn’t a crime, taking its place to enter someone’s home is breaking and entering. Worse, Erin could be charged with damage and/or misuse of rented property. Luckily for me the suit—or skin I guess—was doing all the work for me already. Revel in the small turns of fortune, I thought bitterly. I felt oh-so very fortunate for this bout of paralysis. You aren’t paralyzed, you simply can’t move with any degree of ease.

The van they wheeled me to looked the same from the outside as the one I had been in before, but when they lifted me in—one at my head and the other at my feet—I saw there were only two cots on either side of the wall in the back. The one they laid me down on was surprisingly comfortable. Though a thin mattress of simple stuffing from what I could tell, it lacked lumps making it a step up from my usual. However this was not the time to take a nap.

They lifted some kind of guard rail beside me, and closed the door. There were no lights, wan, red, or otherwise this time. Just darkness, because apparently someone thought I needed to be made more uncomfortable. “Don’t panic,” I tried telling myself, but all I managed was a mumble that did nothing to help my disposition. One thing at a time: sit up.

Easier said than done. Actually, no, since my voice synthesizer seemed disabled. What a glorious day this was turning out to be. Still, I managed. I had to. I couldn’t allow myself to be taken in for repairs as I had no idea what that would mean for the human inside this maidbot skin. Not an easy task. Whatever the suit was doing to me felt like a full body cramp, with every muscle already engaged, but that wasn’t the same as immobilizing me. Bit by bit I sat up with my back to the wall, feeling like I had done a thousand sit ups or something when I had finished.

And to think, that was just step one!

Next I reached behind me and undid the laces with rubber-covered fingers resistant to movement, let alone what turned out to be somewhat intricate motion, the lacing machine having done something weird when it laced me back up. I could barely feel the laces, but ‘barely’ was a step up from what I might have expected given the gloves over the catsuit. Actually…

I ran a finger over my neck. Had I not known better, I’d have sworn I had just touched my actual flesh. This is bad. No matter how many times that might cross my mind, it never managed to capture how dire this felt—sitting alone, in the dark, God only knows where, in the back of a van bound for a bioroid repair facility probably about to be formatted. Really, I wasn’t sure how this could be any worse.

My heart skipped a beat at that thought and I paused, waiting for some malicious cosmic jester to answer my unspoken question.

The van hit a pothole.

But it kept going. Actually, that would have been a good thing and we can’t have that. I continued my efforts, loosening the laces enough that I could get to the back entry slit. The rubber didn’t seem that sturdy. Perhaps I could tear it.

Except it wasn’t there: My fingers found only smooth, unbroken bioroid skin. A small shiver snaked up my spine, be it from fright or the tinkling of fingers on flesh that insisted it was mine. Without anything else to do, I tried loosening the corset a bit more so I could better touch my back thinking perhaps it had shifted to the side.

Nothing.

There was no opening of any kind, just more of the same unnaturally smooth skin. Feeling faint, I laid back down as reality washed over me: Somehow the catsuit, which wasn’t a catsuit at all, had closed and I can now feel through it as if it were my own skin. No part of that could be good, but that was what I had to contend with. After a few moments to catch my breath and collect my thoughts—for whatever good that might do—I tried pinching the ‘skin’ to pull it away. No surprise, it clung to me, which meant I could only wait for them to take me to the factory. Maybe I’d be able to find a knife or something to cut myself out of it.

My thoughts then drifted to Erin. Would she be okay if something happened to me? What if I never make it back to her, would she be able to move on with her life? I sure hoped so, but I knew if our roles were reversed I’d never stop thinking of her. I wish I’d married her.

If I got out of this, I’d make sure I never had that thought again.

Without knowing what else to do, I continued laying there. Until I got to the factory, it seemed like all I could do was speculate, something outside my expertise. Ideally, I’d have let myself slip into sleep again. That wasn’t happening. Instead I found myself adrift in possibilities, none of them good.

With a start, I tried sitting up at the sound of the door opening just to receive a painful reminder of my situation in the form of cramps. I relaxed back into the thin mattress. Or as much as I could with my muscles engaged in a full-body contraction. Maybe they’ll ‘release me’ once I’m inside? I hoped, though they may very well carry me through the entire facility.

In a turn of fortune, that wasn’t the case. Not exactly at least. My chariot awaits, I thought, looking at the wheel chair outside the van. The bots may not have trusted my ability to walk, but once I was seated and a loose belt secured around my middle, they let go. Whatever had been keeping my body rigid also ceased, and I sagged into the seat. I hadn’t realized how uncomfortable that had been until now and a quick flex of my finger confirmed that I could move freely.

Scanning my surroundings as one of the bots wheeled me through an unmarked side door, I seemed to be in Chicago. Or at least a city. I didn’t think we’d been in transit long enough to have gone to another. Besides, that seemed inefficient. A small comfort that I likely wasn’t too far from home, but I’d take what I could at this point. Less encouraging: that same red light from before filled the hall; presumably only bots used this part of the facility or humans with nerves of steel. Idly, I wondered if the bot pushing me was following some blue line of its own.

Not a particular pleasant thought as it implied this skin somehow had managed to alter my vision. I didn’t need that kind of distraction and forcibly set it aside, instead focusing on formulating an escape plan. I assumed they could reengage whatever had locked me in place should I simply make a break for it, so finding something sharp to cut myself out of this thing made for a good next step. Except this hall had a sterile feel to it that I normally associated with hospitals, and the halls’ only feature seemed to be the identical, unmarked doors lining them. There weren’t even light fixtures, only this unnerving, omnipresent red hue which managed to remind me of the voices that seemed to come from nowhere. I could only wonder if there were lights at all, or if this, too, was a projection.

Setting aside the terrifying possibility that something else controlled what I saw—because I didn’t have enough on my list of things I didn’t want to think about—I focused on scanning my surroundings for anything that might actually help me rather than adding to the mounting horror of my situation.

After what seemed like an hour, we turned into a close-like room with a cord dangling from a sidewall as its only feature. I would have been happy to continue down the labyrinthine halls for another hour if it meant that cord didn’t end up connected to the collar encircling my neck. That was not an option. The click that reverberated through the small room lingered even after the bot closed the door behind it on the way out. No sooner had the bot left then I reached back, feeling for the cable I knew would be there. My fingers found it and followed the cord to the back of the choker. I sighed. I could only imagine if I were to unplug it someone would come to check on me. Until I figured out a way to get this suit off me I needed to avoid drawing any additional attention to myself.

Which is how it came to be that I ended up interminably sitting there in an eerie room staring at nothing. Now if only my mind could be as blank as this wall. Instead I could only think about Erin and how I may never see her again. How I should have listened to her. How I loved her. I wanted to make our lives better, yet here I was in a bioroid repair facility with a cable dangling from my neck.

A whimper rose in my throat, but it didn’t seem to have any better luck escaping than I did this place. As I doubled over in the hard metal chair to cry, I actually hoped someone in this lifeless place would hear me. At this point a bit of jail time didn’t seem so bad. I’d explain that it had all been my idea, that Erin had nothing to do with it. At least then I’d be able to see her when she visited me. At least I’d be me. Bad bots got formatted and I’d been a very bad bot.

Dark thoughts swirled around inside me as tears built up behind the lenses over my unblinking eyes. I wasn’t even allowed to cry. God, what a miserable day. It wasn’t until my bladder started complaining that the door opened behind me. I didn’t bother straightening in my seat: Either it was a bot who wouldn’t notice or a human who might help. No, I couldn’t think like that. I would get out of this. I would! This was a repair facility so surely they would have one of those fancy screwdrivers. Once I nabbed one I could take this collar off myself! By the time I emerged from the room, I had pulled myself together. Good thing this isn’t real makeup or it’d be all over the place. If I just kept looking on the bright side of things, maybe I’d pull through.

Whoever had unplugged the cable and pulled me out into the hall made no comment and soon an orange line appeared under my feet. As much as I wanted to turn around to see who, or what, might be behind me, I simply stood, followed, and resumed observing my surroundings, bland as they might have been. Just more narrow, blank halls with equally blank doors, but at least I should have a decent idea as to the floor plan for when I made my escape.

In a moment’s curiosity, I defied my better judgment and did the un-maidbot-like thing of feeling the walls in passing. I had to know if the sensation under my finger matched what I was seeing. Fortunately, the walls felt as smooth as they looked, though it did seem possible for my sense of touch to also have been affected, but that way lay madness so I pushed it aside. I hadn’t been given reason to doubt that sense. Not yet at least.

The line took me through twists and turns of halls and into another small, unmarked room with what looked like the cleaning station from the van. No sooner had I closed the door than a nondescript, omnipresent voice spoke. “Remove all clothing.”

Now that I knew to listen for it, I could definitely tell that voice didn’t actually come from speakers. For that matter, it didn’t feel like it passed through my ears. Somehow it had skipped the whole sound thing and gone straight to my brain which was precisely the sort of thing I did not want to think about so instead I allowed myself a bit of humor.

How about taking me to dinner first. As with so much of today, I had but one option. Fortunately, the outfit was easier to remove than don. Not so fortunate, a clink told me I had lost my prize. Shit! Should I bend down and get them, very potentially alerting anyone who may be watching or later reviewing any cameras that might be in here that I’m not a maidbot; or do I leave them there for someone to find? Both had their own risks, but only one offered a chance at a pay day.

As nonchalantly as one can, I bent over and put them in the only place I could think: my rubber lined vagina. But let’s face it, if there were cameras in this place, I’d already have the cops on me. Regardless, the deed was done. I could only hope Lady Luck smiled on me this one time. Besides, it wasn’t as if I had any good alternatives, just more bad ones.

At some point during that minor emergency, the line under my feet reappeared, unsurprisingly leading to the cleaning chamber. I didn’t need a creepy voice to tell me what I needed to do next, and for the third time that day stepped into a weird device for cleaning. This time, the various tubes and hoses already dangled from above. Also new: I was naked. Sort of, as I still had the suit on. Presumably, this round of cleaning was for more than just a quick shine, a belief reinforced when as soon as I secured the mask and catheter, the tube began filling with a warm liquid.

Definitely not terrible and by the time it had reached my waist, I could feel myself drifting back to sleep for the second time today. Mmm, I can’t remember the last time I had a warm bath. I should fall prey to my own bad decisions more often. Another item to add to my wish list: hot tub.

Consciousness fled me by the time the tank had filled up to my chin, though no time seemed to have passed before a pleasant voice spoke. “Hello,” the woman said directly into my brain. My vision was too foggy to see her clearly, but I recognized her voice from the phone call earlier. “It’s good to meet you in person Lisa, my sweat zero-two.”

My heart skipped a beat, the earnestness of the statement only making it worse. She didn’t just sound happy to see me, it seemed as if she could hardly contain herself.

“No need to worry.” She chuckled pleasantly. “No need for you to worry about anything again. I never actually thought anyone would put on the maidbot control skin I left at the costume shop, let alone find a working comm-collar. But you did and you found me.” It almost sounded like she was about to cry. “And now I’m cashing in my end of year bonus early as you even gave the company a very broken maidbot that is too damage to reënter circulation.”

“I was set up?!” I tried to scream, but with a tube down my throat and surrounded by some liquid not even a groan came out. I could hardly believe my ears, let alone fully process what this meant.

“I also had some initial…aesthetic changes made while the equipment here did its best to repair you. I hope you like it.”

I tried focusing my eyes on the reflection from inside the tube, but all I could make out was a featureless black oval.

“Oh, like you I also have an easy to remember name too: Dorothea Macher—like Doll Maker—though I have an even easier one for you to remember: Mistress.”

Epilogue: Dorothea

My car pulled up to the curb outside Lisa’s apartment a few minutes before midnight, and with a spring in my step and a hopelessly sunny smile on my face, I walked up to the front of the building, humming. I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt this good. After five years, I finally found someone to love and who would in time love me. There was nothing in this world more powerful than love.

Fortunately, I didn’t need the power of love to get into the building. Looking around the entrance for some kind of comm box or security system, I found only bare brick. I tried the door. It opened with a creak. How depressing, I thought, pulling it open. She deserves better. Though I might have been fulfilling a dream of my own, who would choose to live like this? How could someone not want to live the sort of comfortable life I could give them, soaking up all the love I could give? That just didn’t make sense.

The building’s interior largely matched the outside: filthy, unkempt, and generally ill-suited for human habitation. At least that meant the directory was analog, so I didn’t have to touch anything to find the apartment number for ‘L. Lang & E. Hill’. But it also meant that while the elevator managed to take me up a floor, the other three stories required that I climb a dilapidated stairwell with railing that screamed ‘tetanus’. Really, that was a good thing. I could hardly contain myself at the moment and needed to work off some of this spare energy before I spoke with Lisa’s roommate. Just keeping the rapturous joy from my voice when I spoke to my upcoming pet this morning had been hard enough. And then to keep that joy contained until everyone had left work for the day…I thought I was going to burst. If not for so many of them wanting to go home early to either escort their kids around or hand out candy to other’s children, I don’t think I’d have made it.

Somehow, my smile broadened. Today had been all treats with no tricks.

Arriving at the apartment, I knocked and stood back, listening as furious footsteps approached the door. It wrenched open, revealing a disheveled black woman. Hill quickly scanned the hall, her lower lip quivering. Tears stained her face.

More than a roommate? I didn’t like that. Pulling loved ones apart meant pain. I loved Lisa. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her. But in a world already full of pain, sometimes things had to get worse, before they could get better.

The thought ruined some of my cheer, but I could make things right later.

Hill’s gaze fell on the Robo-Maids logo embossed on my shirt and she cast eyes filled with equal parts dread and hope into my own. Her mouth opened, working soundlessly. She knew what Lisa had done. She very possibly helped. Asking where her roommate was or where the maidbot had gone would implicate the both of them.

“Hi,” I said. There was no reason to make this harder on her than it already seemed to be. As it was, I felt badly being in such a good mood when I had so clearly made her miserable, even if I knew it couldn’t be helped. Still, nothing could snuff out my good cheer. “I’m from Robo-Maids. We lost track of a maidbot and this is the collar’s last known location.” Taking a step forward, I added, “I’m here to collect the broken bot.” I took another step.

Hill gave ground, backing out of the door frame. The woman seemed to think better of it, but it was too late, I was already inside. “I…” The young woman tried to say something, but at a loss for words, the monosyllable trailed off.

“This won’t take any time at all,” I said and closed the door behind me. “This won’t take long,” I assured her again, swiping at the holographic interface of my watch. Not that the tracking app I was activating seemed necessary with how small the place was. This might have been considered a reasonably spacious apartment a hundred years ago, but noöne lived like this if they could afford it. It was no wonder I found those earrings inside Lisa. No, not Lisa. Lisa is no more. She was 02 now.

A pillar of blue overlaid on top of my vision appeared off to my left, leading me to a door opposite some layered chicken wire. I looked behind me at Hill who just stood there, anger and dejection warring for control over her dark features. She knew what I’d find. No reason to torment her by dragging this out.

I opened the door of a small bathroom. Through the frosted glass of the equally small shower I spotted what might have been mistaken for a dead body under that blue column. Or a deactivated maidbot. I nodded my approval at the display of cleverness, noting more of the same layered chicken wire. I never managed to figure out a good way to slip a comm-collar to whomever might get the suit, or a suit to one with a comm-collar. The best I could come up with was to loose both into the world and hope someone else might work out a solution. A pair this clever truly deserved better.

Questing through my purse, I pulled out another comm-collar, this one connected to my own personal server and untraceable by the company. “I’ll be out of here in no time.”

“Where’s Lisa?” she said, voice angry and strong. Fists clenched to her side, she shook with furry.

My smile faltered, the mood ruined. I wanted to say something. I wanted to hug her and tell her that 02 was being taken care of, that soon she would be too. I did none of that. I just opened the shower door and slipped the collar around the naked maidbot’s neck, the blue light fading as I did so. I considered doing something about its state of dress, but figured few would notice at this hour and fewer still would care.

“I’m done,” I said. After a few short voice commands, the maidbot stood and followed me out to where the seething woman waited. I pretended not to notice.

Actually, I wasn’t done.

Standing in the doorway, hand on the door, I turned to E. Hill. “Everything will work out.”

The woman stayed where she was, saying nothing. Because she could do nothing more than glare daggers at me and knew it. A police report would be filed, but with nothing to work off of they’d let it collect dust with the rest of the cold cases of impoverished women who disappeared. Worse, without going into incriminating details police couldn’t possibly make any real progress. She might be willing to risk that if it was only her neck in the noose, but there was her Lisa, my 02. Even then, they’d be too busy handling my counter lawsuit to have time for hers.

I opened the rear door of my car and the maidbot sat next to the featureless black being already there. Like a half-finished obsidian statue, the woman who had been Lisa Lang sat there with a blank oval for a head. No ears and no eyes that could be seen. Even her nose seemed to melt into the rest of her face in the dim street lights, though I had chosen to leave it untouched. At least for now.

She made some muffled sounds of protest and I reached out to caress her cheek. That drew even more noise from her, but couldn’t move to reject my love. “Shhshhshh…It’s okay, it’s okay. I promise. You’re with me now, everything will be perfect, I promise.” I pulled the hand away, though not before placing a kiss on her forehead. “We’re going home.”

In the controller’s seat I pulled off a blonde wig and gloves a shade lighter than my natural skin tone before cleaning off the heavy makeup that would disguise my bone structure. Without a name to give anyone or fingerprints to collect, and a false description, even under the best of circumstances, the police would be unable to connect me to this so-called kidnapping.

“Now then my love,” I turned to once more look my new pet in the eye, “let’s begin the rest of your life.”