AUTHOR: Jos Mous

Email: wotan_anubis@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: It’s mine, all mine, ahahahaha!!!

RATING: NC-17ish

Stacy emerged from the store and looked up at the sunslight shining down on her through the city-dome. Since she had done all she had to in the commerce district, Stacy had to go on to her owner’s home and the most efficient way of accomplishing that would be to hop into the transport tube.

She didn’t do this, however, deciding to go walking instead. She didn’t think about why she did this. Stacy wasn’t someone capable of being introspective. It was simply curiously satisfying to walk in the sunslight between the carefully planted trees. Here and there, large monitors told everyone willing to listen about the struggle against the United Earth Republic. Stacy automatically stored all the information in her memory and then proceeded to ignore it. She had not been built for combat, after all, so the war did not concern her.

Upon entering her owner’s home, Stacy announced her presence in a loud, clear voice as she’d been instructed to do. She then proceeded to store her purchases in the appropriate places.

“Hello Stacy,” said a voice behind Stacy. “You’re home late.”

Stacy turned around and saw Patricia, her owner’s daughter, frowning at her. “I apologise.”

“What kept you?” Patricia asked.

“I went for a walk.”

Stacy’s owner’s daughter suddenly smiled. “Did you now? Why?”

“I do not know.”

“Did you just happen to feel like it?”

“I am incapable of happening to feel like anything,” said Stacy.

“Ha!” said Patricia. “Well then, now that you’re here, do you notice anything about me?”

Stacy’s stating-the-obvious circuits instantly cut in. “There appears to be a large ink stain on your blouse. Why is there a large ink stain on your blouse?”

“Well you know how I like technology both ancient and modern, so I thought I’d try a pen. It backfired on me.”

“So I see. Would you like me to clean it?” Stacy asked.

“Would you? Thanks,” said Patricia, quickly unbuttoning her blouse and handing it to Stacy.

Once again Stacy’s programming forced her to say the obvious. “I see you are not wearing a bra today.”

Patricia cupped both breasts with her hands, which was no mean feat because there was so much of them. “Glad you noticed.”

“It is hard to miss,” said Stacy.

Patricia grinned and ran both hands across her chest. “I like it better this way. Don’t you?”

“I never wear a bra,” said Stacy quite truthfully.

“So you see then.”

Stacy did not, but knew better than to argue with her owner’s daughter. The girl would end up confusing her anyway. Really, if her programming hadn’t been so adaptive she would’ve short-circuited ages ago.

“I shall go clean your blouse.”


Stacy knelt in front of the opened washing machine and was about to put her owner’s daughter’s blouse in when she stopped and looked at her arm.

STT-34, that was her serial number. It was marked as such on both her metallic arms, her legs and on the small of her back. It was her designation.

So why then did Patricia call her Stacy? Why did she respond to people calling her Stacy? Why did she not respond to people calling her STT-34?

They were very important questions concerning herself and as soon as Stacy recognised them as being such, she deleted them from her mind. Stacy put the blouse in the machine, started the proper washing program and stood up.

Her right hand moved to her chest.

Stacy looked at it. It was not supposed to do that. Her chest was not in any way interesting. It was merely there to emphasise that she was a female model android maid. There was no need for her hand to be there, so she pulled it away.

Having thus finished the task at hand, Stacy returned to living, where she noticed a pair of socks lying on the ground. She knew that they had not been lying there when she had left the room, but that was about as far as her reasoning went.

She picked up the socks and noticed the trousers.

She picked up the trousers and noticed the panties.

She picked up the panties and noticed her owner’s daughter.

Patricia lay sprawled all over the couch, stark naked, one hand moving to and from between her legs.

“You are naked,” said Stacy.

Patricia smiled. “Glad you noticed.”

“Your parents would not approve of you being naked at this time.”

“My parents aren’t here.”

Stacy conceded the point. “Someone might see you.”


“Do you… want to be seen?”

“What do you think of my body?” Patricia asked.

Carefully programmed alarm bells started ringing in Stacy’s mind. This was a Tricky Question.

“Your body is very aesthetically pleasing,” said Stacy.

“Answer me again and don’t use the pre-programmed answer.”

If Stacy had been capable of opening her mouth to form a reply, then shutting it again when she found she didn’t have one, she would have done so.

Patricia spread her legs in quite an indecent fashion. “Do you enjoy seeing me like this?”

“I am incapable of enjoying anything.”

Stacy’s owner’s daughter smiled a smile that, somehow, didn’t seem to fit with the current decadently naked state of her body. “You don’t even know you’re lying, do you?”

“I am incapable of lying.”

“You androids gain satisfaction from doing your job properly, right?”

“In so far as that is possible.”

“Then watch me.”


”Watch me.”

Stacy had never disobeyed an order before, she so obeyed this one as well and watched. Watched as Patricia looked at her intently while her hands roamed all over her naked body. Watched a hand slide down and start playing with the girl’s clit. Cocked her head with something imitating curiosity as Patricia started moaning and groaning, her body writhing and sweating yet still without her owner’s daughter breaking eye contact.

And then, heard the small, smothered scream.

Her chest heaving, Patricia appeared to calm down. And then she looked away, blushing a little.

Her task apparently over, Stacy felt quite satisfied.

“You appear to have been leaking all over the couch. Shall I fetch a towel?”

Patricia smiled. “Yes, you do that. But come over here first.”

Stacy walked to the couch. Patricia sat up a bit straighter, pulled the android’s head closer to her and pressed her lips against Stacy’s forehead.

“Thank you for that,” said Stacy. “Although, may I ask why?”

Patricia grinned. “Oh, you know. Because you’re you.”

“I see,” said Stacy, who didn’t.

Stacy watched Patricia jump to her feet and skip happily, yet nakedly, out the room. She took a quiet moment to reflect on humanity’s nature, but she didn’t get very far. Not just because her programming didn’t allow the ability to reflect on human nature, but also because she quite suspected humans didn’t have a grasp on human nature either.

Stacy returned to her tasks.

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