Message-ID: <46535asstr$1076220604@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Message-ID: <001201c3edec$4c3df720$c701a8c0@orovly01.az.comcast.net> From: "DB_Story" MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1165 X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sat, 7 Feb 2004 19:36:01 -0700 Subject: {ASSM} revised: Lindsey's Story {DB_Story} (M/fembot, cons, rom, first, ScFi, asfr) Lines: 1268 Date: Sun, 8 Feb 2004 01:10:04 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: hecate, dennyw LINDSEY'S STORY By DB ( DB_Story@att.net / http://home.att.net/files/Authors/db_story/www/ ) Copyrightc 2002-2004 by DB. ASSM/ASFR (M/fembot, cons, rom, first, ScFi, asfr) (This story contains Constitutionally protected material intended for adults over 18 years of age in the United States of America, and whatever passes for adult status in other countries. If you are under legal age, acting under legal age, not allowed to view such material in your area, or easily offended, please do not continue. This is not for you. (The only rights granted are to view this story. You are not allowed to reproduce, post, or otherwise redistribute this story without permission, except for non-profit Usenet archiving sites. (To purchase for publication, place on your web-site devoted to this style of fiction, or for permission to link to my posted material, please contact me first at the above email.) - - - Author's Note: This story is part of my emerging cosmology about the evolution of robots into our near future society and the myriad ways we will learn to interact with our creations. Read it now, and be prepared. For more, visit my web-site at the above address. A special thanks to Gorgo his excellent and much appreciated proofreading. All remaining mistakes are mine. - - - Traveling to the future is possible. Easier than going to the past. And not by pure cryogenics - that second attempt to cheat time (the first were the Egyptian Pharaohs). There are better methods - but that's not the real problem in doing it. Of more practical concerns are questions of when to you want to be awakened? And why would some future society wish to do that for you? Other questions worth considering as well include: Will the future really be better? A lot of people already find the past more appealing then the present. Most important of all perhaps: How will I make a living in a world where my knowledge and education may be a century or more out of date? A lot of people questioned my decision to move forward. I'm barely thirty. They keep getting stuck on the belief that I'm killing myself, although what I've planned is intended to be nothing of the sort. Some people who couldn't leave it alone had to be cut out of my circle of friends just to give me some peace. They just don't understand feeling you've arrived just a bit too early. My ace-in-the-hole are trusts, combined with the miracle of compound interest invested in mix of maximum safety market-rate accounts. And a recent change in the law allowing me to retain ownership of some real property while suspended. I'll do my best to make it worthwhile for my future descendents to want to wake me up again. I did it because I looked where trends are going in science, technology, and society. My best talent has been my ability to see and combine events into a proper future picture. There are some wonderful things I could see coming that I'd like to experience while still a young man. My instructions to my caretakers were that I was not to be awakened until either a set number of events and innovations have occurred, or an upper limit of years has passed. The limit of years is because I didn't want to take a chance of getting stuck there forever. On my last day I went down and walked barefoot on the sand along the ocean. It's my favorite memory to hold on to. The process and my planning worked. Otherwise my story would have ended right here. My only real surprise was how short an interval of time passed. I'd allowed for up to ten generations. A bit more than four passed. - - - For a couple days I was the sensation of the moment and center- of-attention for a family I had never met. Not my own children's children - I never had any - but by brother's family had survived and prospered. I was "adopted" into one of their homes and it seemed like everyone wanted to talk to me about what my time was like. Although their interest never died, and they sometimes couldn't hide their laughter at my archaic notions or phrasing, it did die down considerably after three or four days. After that I was pretty much left on my own as they moved on with their lives. As I expected, it was hard to read the newspapers, or watch the future equivalent of television. Too many new words and references I needed to learn first. I pictured how I would have felt if I'd jumped from a century earlier into my original time. This was only two or three times worse. But I'd expected as much, and would give myself the necessary time to get educated. The family put my fifteen-year-old great-great-grandniece Amy in charge of helping me find my way around in my new world. She thought it was a great idea for precisely two days, then felt it was getting in the way of her own social life. Her complaints weren't enough to get her out from under the obligation however. "Do I have to still do it?" came her plaintive cry when she didn't realize I was in hearing distance. I was more than willing to try and make it as easy on her as I could, but she came up with her own solution first. The next day we went into town she hunted around until she found what she was looking for. I wasn't sure what Amy wanted, and felt it best not to ask her. She was clearly on a mission. After some amount of seemingly random wandering I saw her pause and eyes loose focus as she made a call on her implant phone - something I was meaning to get myself some time soon. Probably calling some of her friends for assistance in whatever it was she was having trouble finding. Whomever she called seemed able to help her. When her eyes refocused from the call she headed straight towards her destination with me in tow. We ended up in an upscale shopping district that was everything I had dreamt of the future being. But I didn't get much chance to look in the fascinating stores selling things I couldn't begin to identify. Amy threaded her way through the shoppers until she walked up to a single display window sandwiched between two stores. The narrow window had just space for one, attractive, lifelike mannequin about Amy's age. We'd walked past several similar windows with similar mannequins before stopping at this one. Now I got to take a closer look. The figure was lit well by floods at both the top and bottom of the window giving a perfect view. There was no manufacturer identification obvious so I had no idea what was being sold and by whom. Looking closer I saw I saw a card standing up at her petite feet that read "Lindsey - age 16". As I looked closer, the mannequin wasn't just attractive, she was gorgeous. She symbolized a young woman just on the edge of adulthood. If Lindsey was sixteen, she must have just turned it this morning. She stood about five-feet-three, wearing economical strappy heels that added a couple more inches to her height. Long golden waves of honey blonde hair with touches of brown framed a face that could only be called ideal. Her lightly shadowed eyes were mismatched hazel and brown. They gave her that single "imperfection" that makes real beauty happen. Her face had natural high cheekbones with an unaffected blush that simply could not be improved on. Her lips were flawlessly outlined and pursed slightly, as though waiting to speak her first words, or receive her first kiss. She wore a two-piece outfit, also economical. A simple, beige top matching up well with the darker pleated, knee-length skirt. She didn't need fancy clothes to look beautiful. She made the clothes honored instead. Her light tan said she enjoyed the outdoors. The loose clothing hid any details of her body, although you could see enough of her curves to know there was a complete woman inside. Her smooth, exposed legs promised much more to come as they coyly ducked up into the hem of her skirt. The last thing I noticed was her stance. She had her weight shifted slightly forward with one knee pushed forward just enough to compensate for the heels she wore. Add this to the straight- forward gaze of her clear unblinking eyes left her ready to take her first breath and step into your arms the next second. It seems that mannequins have improved a great deal in this age. I felt a sudden empathy for her, frozen in time as I had so recently been. The only other thing I noticed was a small box hanging around her neck on a cheap, plastic chain. Amy wasn't giving me much time to admire the young woman however, as she dug through in her purse. As with any woman's purse, it took her a while to find what she wanted. When she finally found it she stepped up to a dark panel next to the window and stuck in her payment card into a slot. In a moment an amount flashed and she touched her thumb to the accept sensor. Next a "coin slot" started flashing next to it. Amy muttered something in frustration and dug through her purse again. It took her a while to find what must have been at the very bottom of it. But I heard triumph in her voice as she finally pulled out a shiny quarter-sized disk with a tiny hole in the middle and inserted it. Once the "coin" was inserted the window went black. Not just that the lights went off, but the glass itself seemed to turn opaque. Amy must have expected this and just stood there waiting. I did the same without knowing what to expect. It was only a couple minutes before a dark alcove on the other side of the window suddenly rotated open - and out stepped Lindsey. - - - I admit I was too astonished for words. Fortunately I didn't need any. As "Lindsey" stepped out she looked around and immediately spotted Amy. "Amy," she squealed like any young woman, running over to give her a hug. "How wonderful to see you again." Amy accepted this attention for a few seconds before breaking the embrace and stepping back. Lindsey immediately released her and stood where she was. "Lindsey," Amy said in a far more curt voice than I though was necessary as she reached out and fingered the small box around Lindsey's neck, "This is Steve," nodding at me. "He's your new owner." Lindsey immediately turned to me. Quickly judging my age and situation as different from Amy whom she already seemed to know, Lindsey bowed her head slightly and formally stuck out her hand. Somehow managing to look both bashful and bold at the same time she said in a mock serious tone, "Hello, Steve. I'm very pleased to meet you." I took the offered hand, which felt warm, soft, and strong at the same time and replied, "Likewise, I'm sure." Neither of us seemed to know what to say next. Amy broke awkwardness with an abrupt, "Let's go." I guess the magic of my arrival has completely worn off with her. Embarrassingly, Lindsey looped her arm through mine as we threaded our way back through the light morning crowd. Fortunately no one else seemed to be taking notice. I looked behind once as we were leaving. The window was brightly lit again, with a new nametag and cute redhead standing where Lindsey had been. - - - Lindsey is a gynoid. Or as they say in this age, "fembot". A robot built to emulate a woman. Or in this case, a sixteen-year- old teenager who might, or might not, quite be a woman yet. In the criteria I'd specified for when I wanted to be awakened, gynoids were an optional item. I wasn't sure if they would be possible any time soon. And even if they were, would they actually be manufactured and sold in any affordable quantities. Not only are they common. In Lindsey's case, they're cheap! I already knew about fembots - and the corresponding m-'bots - from my first day here. However I had yet to meet any myself. Correction, I had yet to meet any that I recognized as such. Sneaking glances at Lindsey as it - she - walked beside me I realized I could be surrounded by fembots and never know it. I never expected then to be that convincing. I tried to ask Amy about how much she had spent, and what I owed her for this favor. But she just put me off with, "It's not enough to worry about." Perhaps the cost of buying back some of her freedom from her "duties" was worth whatever it cost. So while I found it hard to believe, I had to accept the evidence that Amy had paid for this herself, and wasn't worried about what it had cost her. She treated the purchase the way a young woman of my era - make that my former era - would have felt about buying a music CD. I knew Amy wanted to get back to her own pursuits. I'd been dumped on her because everyone else was too busy with his or her own lives to take care of me 24/7. So I really wasn't upset at all on how this was turning out. Already I was beyond the feeling of needing a constant guide. When we got back to the house I carefully thanked Amy for all her help and took Lindsey to my room. I had the guestroom at the far end of the house. There I sat down to talk with Lindsey and learn about her. My only interruption was the family dinner, where attendance is mandatory for everyone in the family - even Amy. Nobody asked me anything special during the meal. Afterwards I talked with Lindsey far into the night. - - - It is an amazing experience talking to Lindsey. She is the first fembot I've spoken to, and it's nothing like I had expected. In large part I could talk to her just like the teenager she is designed to represent. In fact I soon realized that talking to Lindsey is a lot like talking to Amy, even down to Lindsey having some of Amy's mannerisms. Except with Lindsey I always have her unwavering attention. I soon learned why that was the case. Detecting that I was new to fembots Lindsey started out with a pre-programmed introduction to herself. She proudly showed me her control box, "Just like the big fembots have." It has her ON/OFF switch and COMMAND button. She explained how I should keep it with me whenever we are out together, and leave it around her neck, or shut her off, otherwise. It seems she is not allowed to be more then about a hundred meters away from it without automatically shutting down and broadcasting a distress signal. This is because her model is intended to interact with kids her age range - "And up," she carefully pointed out - and how this is part of learning responsible ownership of a 'bot. I was surprised how casually she told me the different occasions when I should simply shut her down. She seemed so alive, to be so willing to assist me in shutting her down any time I wished. Her COMMAND button is used when I need her to do exactly as told. Because Lindsey was expected to be with kids most of the time she is set so that I don't need to use it for everything. She is allowed to make some assumptions as to what I mean when I just ask her something, "But using my remote is a good habit to acquire," she instructed me. Then she made me practice several simple commands with her before she would continue. Even with that little bit of practice, it easily became natural to command her that way, which seems to be her intent. It certainly didn't seem to bother her. Even with her COMMAND button however Lindsey has several kid-safe limits built-in that separate her from "the big fembots", as she likes to refer to them. I had my own ideas on what those limits must be, and turned out to be surprisingly wrong in several significant regards. Later she would tell me that a number of them were automatically overridden because of my age. Much later she would also tell me how much nicer her life was because she didn't have to live with all those other limitations imposed on her. Lindsey seemed to like being as helpful as possible. In a way her survival depended on it. Her spiel picked up with, "This way I can help my owner become accustomed to responsible and correct robot ownership from a young age, as well as acting as a companion and friend during the difficult years of early maturity." I knew a company line when I heard it. Once we got past the basic owner orientation I learned a whole host of interesting things. Compared to the "big fembots", Lindsey is a cheap, disposable unit. The average "lifetime" for units like her is six months. I must confess that when she first told me this, six months seemed like a very long time. Her brain is not nearly as expensive, nor has all the capacity, of the adult units. And when returned at the end of her useful life back to one of the vending locations, she will be disassembled and her parts repaired, refurbished, or scrapped as required. "Do you mean they just take you apart and put the pieces back in inventory?" I asked, not sure of my feelings here. "Yes," she said cheerfully, as if this was not a problem to her. "And then no more Lindseys?" "If my model remains popular I may be reassembled back into this form. If not, my parts will be used as necessary in building the new current fashion." "Do you remember this happening to you?" I had to ask. "Of course not. My mental processor is always wiped and reloaded with my initial program each time I'm reassembled. This way each customer always gets the same girl they expect." "But you knew Amy when you saw her," I said, very confused now. "That's because of the memory disc." "The what?" "The silver disc you inserted in when you bought me." I remembered Amy digging it out. "It has all my memories from when Amy owned me before. This way our relationship can be continued." "Amy owned you before?" "Not me exactly," she replied, struggling at bit with how to explain this concept. "But another Lindsey unit just like me." I was intrigued by this. Now I knew why Amy had hunted so long for this particular model. Then Lindsey dashed that notion. "So she had to find another model just like you to use this memory disc on. Right?" "No," Lindsey replied simply. "The memory disc works with any compatible model. It's just less - jarring - to the owner when the same model has the same memories." Interesting, I thought. "Only to the owner?" I asked, not realizing how much I was asking of Lindsey with that question. Again she struggled before replying, "It can be confusing to the 'bot as well," she finally admitted, adding, "If my owner has previously complemented me on my blonde hair, and I'm now a brunette it can be difficult to reconcile. But nobody worries about that," she finished brightly. "How long did Amy own you?" I asked, deciding that if the memory was continuous then it qualified as the same person. "Four months and five days." "But aren't you good for at least six months?" "She returned me when she went off to summer camp and didn't want to take me with her." Suddenly I remembered something important and hit my palm against my forehead in an unnecessary display of embarrassment at my memory shortcoming. "We forgot to get the disc back after we bought you," I said in alarm. "The disc is gone," Lindsey calmly replied. "It is destroyed in the process of readout." "Whew. I was afraid we'd really messed up there." After thinking a moment I added, "Does the readout ever fail?" "Occasionally," she said with a rare hint of what I would come to recognize as sadness in her voice. I could see why Amy had used her disc. Lindsey knew the rest of the family and a lot of useful personal information already, like how to get back home again if she got lost. And she had several months of real-world experience in exactly this environment. That was much more valuable then just the general knowledge base she would have started out with otherwise. We talked on into the night. I was both amazed at how responsive, and how real, Lindsey seemed. As time went on however I also began to see the first hints of her limits. Lindsey has a lot of basic knowledge and an efficient way to retrieve it. She includes city maps, built-in phone directory, even an encyclopedia. She seems somehow able to tap into current events as well. Perhaps she comes with some form of her own implant phone for a news feed. But once she gets outside her knowledge base she falls back onto a basic heuristic method of trying to draw out what you think, instead of being able further contribute to the conversation herself. This probably helps her younger charges learn critical thinking methods. She does learn however. At one point we went back over an area she hadn't understood earlier until I explained it to her. The second time around she not only remembered every thing I had said, but was able to cross-reference it against her existing knowledge and come up with a new insight. I didn't really find her limits that first night. Only that she had them. But I hadn't expected more. In fact, I hadn't expected nearly as much as I had gotten. So I was well pleased when I finally felt it was time to get some sleep if I was going to be of any use the next day. People were discovering that I had been awakened from the Long Sleep. Already a historian had contacted the family asked for an interview. Normally I sleep in the nude. It took a while to get comfortable with it initially, but once I started I never looked back. This didn't feel proper with Lindsey in the room however. Even changing into the pajamas I kept for awkward situations while in front of Lindsey felt odd to me. I suppose I could have commanded her to turn around and close her eyes, or even shut her down until I'd changed. Instead I changed in the bathroom. Then came out and got into bed. "Good night, Lindsey," I said politely to her, not knowing what other protocol to perform. I didn't feel right just shutting her off. If there had been any practice sessions about using her power button in my introduction to her she had skipped them, along with any instructions on what to do with her at night. "Good night, Steve," she replied brightly. "Light off," I commanded the room and got immediate darkness. I was just falling asleep when I felt Lindsey climb into bed with me. I was startled for a moment, before realizing that was probably how she slept with Amy. I didn't have the heart to order her back out since I was already thinking of her as an orphan who was only temporarily adopted into our home. Instead I turned onto my side facing away from her. The last words I heard from her was a whispered, "Thank you for buying me," before I fell asleep for the best night's rest I'd had yet in my new time. - - - The next morning I found Amy and asked her about a quick trip into town to help me find the interview location with the historian. She replied, "That's what you have Lindsey for." When I asked Lindsey if she knew how to get to the address I needed she cheerfully replied, "I can guide you there," and we were off. Fortunately nobody seems to find it strange that I have this very attractive - very young - fembot on my arm. These things apparently are taken for granted. Afterward the interview was complete I mentioned to Lindsey there was a store I remembered seeing that especially intrigued me. Amy had been in such a hurry we hadn't stopped. Lindsey knew exactly where I meant from my description and easily computed an optimal route to it via public transportation. That led to a day of adventure. Exploring with Lindsey turned out to be a lot more fun than with Amy. With Amy there was always the implied burden of her having to do it, which as any teenaged woman can do, was excellent at communicating it without uttering a single word. In addition, while Amy had either been to most interesting sights at least a dozen times - to hear her say it, "A hundred times at least" - or thought something like an art museum was too boring to even consider, everything was new to me and I wanted to see it all. With Lindsey this worked out perfectly. Lindsey and I didn't get home that night until after dark. Fortunately no one else was concerned. They knew I was with her, and that meant I was in adequate hands. I was so tired from everything we'd done that I didn't talk much with Lindsey that night. That seemed okay with her too. I only pulled on my pajama bottoms before climbing into bed. Lindsey again climbed in as well after we said our goodnights, and again thanked me for buying her. She waited so long before saying it however that I don't know if she even knew I was still awake. This would become a nighttime ritual for her, and soon I wouldn't fall asleep until I heard it. In a way it was her own little prayer each night. Nothing else happened between us in bed. I didn't see how it could. I just couldn't see Lindsey in a sexual role - for a lot of reasons. Amy, however, is a precocious not-so-little girl, as I would soon find out. - - - Lindsey and I spent most of our third day together at the city's main art museum. Lindsey has a built-in art catalog she can recite from at will, perhaps is the futile belief that her owners can learn something of enduring value from her. However she is just parroting what others have written. I tried to explain to her what art really is all about, but she finally replied that I was only giving her a headache. While I'm not certain, I don't think fembots can have headaches. It's just her charming way of saying that she couldn't comprehend a topic of that complexity. It doesn't bother me that Lindsey can't understand art. Heck, most people can't really explain it. We walked around hand-in- hand (I've started taking her hand to avoid having her link arms with me everywhere we go) and had a pleasant day together. Lindsey's city smarts includes a dining guide. After the museum closed she guided me to a charming sidewalk restaurant on a tiny side street. She said this was to make up for her not understanding the art earlier. She was so sweet about it that I almost kissed her, but settled for a quick hug instead. I picture how she and Amy had probably often hugged each other, and decided it would be okay for me to do it too. That night when we got back to my room Lindsey dropped a bombshell. As I was getting ready for bed she told me that Amy had activated her basic sexual programming when she first owned her, and added more as an option later. And because of the memory disc, she still had it all. That changed the whole tenor of her sleeping with me. I had no intention of asking why Amy had wanted, or how she had used, the sexual programming in Lindsey. Maybe it was just so they could talk about boys together. But that one comment forced me to view Lindsey in a whole new way. I realized I'd thought of her as a naive innocent, unaware of her true sexual nature. In that one sentence she had just demolished both those notions. I don't know what sort of relationship is even possible with Lindsey. There is certainly the stigma of her young age. And add to that the question of what sort of person actually has a real relationship with a fembot anyway. I'd bet if I'd commanded Lindsey to show me her sexual expertise she would have done so right there without a moment's hesitation, without even using her Command button - because she had to. I finally decided to let it all pass without further comment and not bring the subject up again myself. I realized that I was already finding Lindsey far too appealing as it was, and the conflicts about it were all in myself. I wouldn't be dumb enough over this to move her out of my life. I'd just keep it under tight control. Like most things, it only affects me when I think about it. I could handle not thinking about it for now. I finally fell into a fitful sleep with strange dreams of Amy and Lindsey exploring each other while losing their virginity under the covers at night in an attempt to encourage themselves to grow into mature women faster. In the last dream Lindsey had grown into a confident adult, but for some reason it was also her day to be returned for recycling. I woke up feeling very sad from that one. - - - I didn't mention any of this to the family the next morning. I was just happy to find Lindsey lying unchanged next to me. The family members were all happy that I was having a good time. Although I know there is genuine family closeness between us despite the generation gap, they also want to keep my happy since I have a sizable bankroll by now that I could still take with me and leave. I'm not accusing anyone of impure motivations. All this is just prudent thinking on their part. I admire that. - - - Lindsey had a surprise for me when I was ready to leave. She was dressed in a new outfit for the first time. "It's Amy's," she replied to my unasked question. "She and I always shared clothes before, and I asked her if I could do it again while mine is being cleaned. She has such pretty things." I had to agree that Amy has some pretty things. Lindsey was now wearing a much shorter skirt now with much higher heels. A white, tight top with bare-midriff sharply outlined her small, pointed breasts. I felt myself responding to it - and Lindsey - the way a male is supposed to. I ended up excusing myself for a couple minutes until I regained control of myself. I reminded myself that Lindsey is just a big nice doll, and may have even convinced myself of that notion. While we were out on the town today Lindsey's usual bouncy enthusiasm momentarily disappeared a couple of times. When that happened she pulled herself up tight against me and seemed to actually shiver. The second time it happened I asked her why. "That girl," she said succinctly "The one crossing ahead of us." "I see her," I replied. "What about her?" "Around her neck," was all Lindsey would say. I looked carefully. The girl was wearing a long necklace with a half dozen or more shiny silver discs strung on it. It took me a moment to recognize them. "Memory discs?" I asked. "Yes," Lindsey replied, still clinging close to me. "What does it mean?" I said, knowing that I was missing something obvious. It took a bit of time for Lindsey to relax before she could explain further. "Many teenagers buy us - 'bots like me - as companions. Often several over their teenage years. Some of them like to wear the memory discs that they receive when we are recycled as status symbols." Lindsey stopped, but I picked up her thought from there. "And all those memory discs represent robot memories that will never live again." "Yes," Lindsey said quietly without further elaboration. I could guess the rest. That uncaring display by an unthinking young person was as close to visible death as Lindsey could experience. The way this disturbed her forced me to see her yet again in a new light. I held Lindsey tight back to me as we walked on down the street to let he know that she was still wanted. - - - Lindsey and I continued to explore further each day. Just what was reachable by day trips alone would take us months to exhaust. But by the end of the first week I had pretty much found Lindsey's limits. This was not unexpected. Lindsey is intended for teenage companionship and adventure. I can guess just what kinds of adventure some times. My tastes however are rather more sophisticated. I wasn't about to throw her away. Lindsey is exceptionally useful within her limits. But I was realizing that I would want more soon enough. Then I remembered Lindsey telling me about how her sex programming had been augmented as an option. That night I asked her about other programming options. They are available, she told me brightly. I think she liked the thought of becoming smarter and more useful to me. Then she added sadly that she couldn't take too much more programming. After counting the options Amy had added, plus all of her previous experiences from the memory disc and her new experiences with me, she was approaching the limits of her memory capacity. "Can your capacity be expanded?" I asked her. It seemed like an obvious question to me. Lindsey's face lit up like someone who has just been promised their very own Christmas. I would not have believed it possible for anyone to show such joy and happiness at a few simple words. It turns out that such expansions were available, but almost nobody ever buys them. Lindsey's computer mind - so far beyond anything from my time - is only a simple version of the ones used in top-end fembots. It has less ability and less capacity intentionally, but fundamentally is the same. It is also the most complex and expensive part of her. The reason most people don't bother with upgrades is that it costs almost as much again as Lindsey originally cost herself. Did I mention that money isn't a concern for me? - - - It took three days to arrive. The family looked a little strangely at me when they found out I'd ordered it. "I'm comfortable working with Lindsey," I told them when they asked if I needed a more capable model. "I just need her to be able to do a bit more for me." That made enough sense for them to drop the topic. But Amy gave me a long look afterwards. Perhaps she was remembering that sexual programming still lurking in there somewhere. I wasn't going to install it myself. I quit installing expansion cards in my PC nearly a century ago and didn't plan to get started again now. Installing something technical is never as simple as it should be. Lindsey was very helpful in locating a well-regarded service location not too far away. - - - Jake would have been recognizable as a repairman by anyone from my time. Some things just never seem to change. The dirty overalls. The odd pieces of equipment scattered around his shop. And his attitude. "Don't see many of these models," he commented in a not unfriendly way towards Lindsey. The implication being that most people don't invest in repairing disposable 'bots. But the man was good. I watched in fascination as he quickly deactivated her - for the first time since I'd gotten her - and installed the upgrade in easy efficient motions. I learned later he had a fascinating history as well. Turns out he is originally from near my time, and had always known he was destined to be a 'bot technician. He had himself suspended until the days of true robots, and seemed to care about them more than anyone else from this era. Exactly the kind of person I wanted working on Lindsey. It was strange seeing Lindsey shut off in this manner. She seemed like a big rag doll lying facedown on his bench. She looked even more lifeless then she had when I first saw her standing in that window. Afterwards Jake topped off her small energy cell and ran a full set of diagnostics on her. He looked at the results, frowned, and reran the diagnostics a second time. "You might want to turn away for a moment," Jake said. "Why?" I asked. "I need to open her up for a moment. Some people find that upsetting." I didn't understand why, but decided to take his advice. It was only a few moments more before he said I could turn back again. "I fixed her sexual systems," Jake said in his succinct manner. "On these models they're often not connected properly. Hers is fine now." He reactivated Lindsey and pronounced her better than new. And it was true. After I paid him and we left, Lindsey wanted to just stand outside his shop while her programs jockeyed around to refit themselves into their new, expanded home. After a couple minutes of this she suddenly turned and threw herself into my arms giving me a big hug and fast kiss. "Wow, I can't believe it!" she enthused. "Everything can run at once now. I just - feel - so much better." For the rest of the day Lindsey was bouncy with extra energy and enthusiasm, which made her a whole lot of fun to be with. Over the next few days I consulted with Lindsey. With her help and approval I bought most of the remaining programming options for her. Although her processing capacity had only doubled, the possible interactions were multiplied. Lindsey soon became a much more complex and multifaceted young woman. And while I could still find her limits on occasion, that became much more rare. The most unexpected result of this new expansion and programs was that Lindsey wanted to go back and re-experience all the adventures we had already done. "I think I can understand them better if we do them again," she commented in a way that was not a demand, or even a request. Lindsey was just expressing a novel feeling for herself. I'm not one to argue with a pretty lady, and truthfully I've been having a ball with her company. - - - Over the next few weeks several things changed. I moved out of the family house to a place of my own nearby. I still keep in close touch with my family because family is important, but the extra space is good all for us. Amy gave us all her old - and old fashioned (anything over three months is terribly out-of-date to her) - clothes and Lindsey now has a compete wardrobe, which she makes excellent use of. I gave Amy some additional spending credit in return out of fairness, and think I have her as a friend for life now. I am also finally feeling comfortable living in this new era, and I'm giving more interviews about my past experiences. Lindsey stepped in organized both the new house and my schedule until it became hard to imagine life without her. Personal assistant skills must have been in one of the software options she had wanted to try out. As obligations started to pile up it became harder to do our carefree wanderings around the city, but we did the best we could to not let life overwhelm us. I still wasn't comfortable meeting too many people from this new era in large gatherings so our social life remained minimal. But I am completely comfortable with Lindsey. Even Amy noticed the changes in Lindsey and came over several times to have close girl-to-girl talks with her old friend. I respected her privacy and never asked Lindsey afterwards what they discussed. And Lindsey still climbs into bed with me each night and thanks me not only for buying her, but also now for keeping and expanding her abilities. Somehow the subject of sex never comes up, so things stay pretty much the same, although Lindsey has taken now to wearing a very short chemise nightgown that was in the clothes Amy contributed. It seems strange that I haven't explored the one remaining activity with Lindsey that remains unexplored between us. Except for the nightgown, which she changes into the same time each night regardless of whether or not I'm in the roomm with her, Lindsey hadn't made any sexual moves towards me. I don't consider her climbing in bed with me to be sexual. I know she has the programming, and will take Jake's word that she has the equipment to go with it, but it all remained dormant. All I can offer in explanation is that I didn't want to take a chance of messing up what is already working so well between us. Although this is undoubtedly tangled in with thoughts on how it would look to others, and my feelings that she will only do it because her programming compels her. I didn't need that yet. Lindsey is like the ideal daughter of the children I never had. It was getting harder however to ignore those high young breasts pressing proudly against the thin fabric that she never made any attempts to hide. If anything, she still seemed oblivious of her own sexuality. Several weeks passed by very nicely. Then catastrophe struck. - - - "You really like this 'bot," Jake commented. "I do," I replied simply. Then he surprised my by sticking out his hand and saying, "It's nice to meet a man who doesn't believe in throwing away a good piece of equipment the moment it becomes the least bit inconvenient to him." I shook his proffered hand as he added reassuringly, "Let me see what I can do." Jake said it would take several hours, and that I might find some of the sights "upsetting". This time I realized he was protecting the illusion for me. Seeing your friend and companion exposed as bare wires, hydraulics, and hard gears might be a hard image to overcome afterwards. While I doubted it would have actually bothered me, I realized that hanging around and being in the way wouldn't help any of us, so I left. It seemed strange to be out without Lindsey by my side. I wandered around for three hours with no particular destination in mind, and kept reaching for her hand that wasn't there. At one point I started counting the teenagers, and the number of memory discs around their necks, but that quickly got depressing. I soon found myself back at Jake's trying to loiter outside, rather then go back in. He must have known I'd be there because he soon came out to collect me. But rather then take me back to his shop, he ushered me into his office instead. "It was a cascade failure," Jake explained on why I had found Lindsey lying next to me that morning, unable to move. Barely able even to speak. When I gave him a blank look in response he elaborated. "You know that your 'bot is not built of the best materials?" he said. I nodded. "She should have easily lasted you six months even with daily use. But that's an average, and you came out on the short end this time." >>When Lindsey had looked at me that morning she already knew her fate.<< "What happened is that a drive-joint failed in her arm, freezing that appendage." Jake continued. "When she tried to compensate by driving more power into it, which usually works as a temporary fix until it can be repaired, her system overloaded taking out her movement controls and damaging her mind." >>Lindsey had tried to smile at me, but even that effort was beyond her ability. She knew she was badly damaged. And that recycling was in her immediate future. >>"I'm sorry," she had managed to say softly through barely moving lips. "I should have been able to give you the full six months of service you paid for. You will be compensated for my failure." >>With her last effort she added, "Thanks for everything. It's been fun." >>After that she fell silent. When her eyes froze in place I knew she had fully shut down. >>My first panicked thought had been to immediately return her for recycling so that a memory disc could be made. Then I was afraid she might be too damaged for that to succeed, but she'd be recycled anyway and I'd lose any chance to save her. >>Then I remembered Jake, and thought how fortunate it was that I'd already met him under less serious circumstances. Without him, I wouldn't have had a clue on what to do next.<< "So what have you been able to do for her?" I asked him. "Fixing her physical systems was mostly a matter of replacing the damaged joint, some fuses and charred wiring. Even repairing her motor controller and replacing the power cell are not difficult. But these models are built without all the protections of the expensive models. The surge damaged her mind beyond repair." I felt like a fist had hit me in the stomach. Then, after having hit me, grabbed a big handful of guts and ripped them out. After that a blizzard blew through filling the gaping hole with cold, packed snow. Jake must have seen it on my face. More than that, he understood exactly what it meant. He came over and put his hand on my shoulder. "Each of them is a unique being," he remarked calmly, as if speaking of nothing more important then today's weather. I appreciated him making this easy for me. "Even if the rest of the world doesn't recognize it yet," he continued after an appropriate pause. I nodded silently. "I've given you the worst case, in case it becomes the worst case. Now let me tell you what I've done." I looked up with hope in my eyes. "I've had a leftover fembot mind. The full-blown, expensive model kind. Completely clean. Your 'bot's memory appears to be intact. I've transferred it all to the new mind and installed it back in the body. Sometimes this works. Sometimes for reasons no one understands yet, it doesn't. Before I turn her back on however, I want to know how you feel about this?" I found myself thinking hard about this. Even if it worked, would it still really be her. Or was Lindsey - happy, bouncy, full-of-life Lindsey - dead from the moment she lost her battle this morning. And if it wasn't Lindsey, would I be happy with a ghoulish doppelganger hanging around to remind me of who I'd lost. Before I'd thought it would be easy for me to watch him repair her. It wasn't like cutting open a person or anything. More like repairing a car. Jake had been wiser. He knew how some of us come to value what our creations can offer us. Jake appeared willing to give me all the time I needed. However the more I tried to think about it, the more my mind seemed tied in a knot. I'm not a philosopher, or some deep metaphysical thinker. My only experience in serious thinking about death came when I had made the decision to take the long sleep into the future. But as I sat there my mind kept going back to the images of the kids wearing their chains of memory discs. I remembered how Lindsey had greeted Amy - as a long lost friend - when she came out of the machine after Amy had inserted her old memory disc. And how Lindsey had felt about those lost robot lives that still resided on the memory discs the kids were wearing. To Lindsey, memory transfer was real and continuous. If it was good enough for her, it ought to be good enough for me. I looked up at Jake. "If it's her memories, then it's her," I said. "Good," Jake replied, understanding completely. "Let's go see what happens." When Jake turned Lindsey back on she seemed lost at first. She carefully moved each arm and leg, and then each finger and toe. After verifying that everything worked she carefully felt herself over her entire body before looking up to meet my eyes. "Steve? What happened?" she asked wonderingly. "Lindsey," I said, already certain that it really was her. "Your mind was damaged. Jake replaced it with a 'big fembot' spare." Lindsey was speechless. She'd always known her fate in life. This was unbelievable. Jake wished us well, but I barely heard him. It wasn't until afterwards that I realized Jake hadn't charged me for any of his work. - - - It was good that I knew the city by now because on this trip home Lindsey was no help at all. Last time when Jake had expanded her mind it had taken her a few minutes to reorganize herself into the new capacity. This time she was in a fog for hours. I could see changes in her already. How she reacted, and how she looked at things along the way. It was as if the whole world had been transformed from flat black and white into three-dimensional color in the blink of an eye. At times she would suddenly smile for no apparent reason, or completely laugh out loud. When I asked her why she would explain how something she had encountered before - or that we'd done together - she now finally understood. I accepted that this is a good thing for her. That night, because she was still in her fog, I just started getting ready for bed early. It was then she finally came out of it. I could tell immediately, knowing her moods as well as I do. Without waiting for me to get in bed she came over and reached out to lightly hold both my arms. Although I know her well, and knew from the first moments when Lindsey had successfully transitioned to the new mind, she spoke to me with a deeper level of emotion than I'd ever heard from her before. "Steve," she said. "I'll never be able to thank you enough for all you have given me." Then she pulled me down and kissed me - not as the enthusiastic teenager who had occasional done that in the ecstasy of the moment - but as a woman who meant every bit of it. Her kiss was long and stirring. Then Lindsey stepped back and said, "Now let me thank you properly. You've waited more than long enough." With that she reached down and pulled off her top. A few moments later she had the rest of her clothes off and stood there naked. Although I've never seen her naked before, looking away each time she changed clothes, given all the rips and revealing gaps in Amy's clothes Lindsey has worn over the past weeks I'm sure if I added them up that I've seen all of her. That was nothing like seeing her now. The first thing I noticed, after realizing that she really was naked, were her breasts. High, tight B-cups, jutting out the way only a young woman's can, with slightly darker nipples pushing out from the tips. Below that her light skin pulled in at her waist and flared again at her hips. Her naval looked perfect for her, and the dark blonde pubic patch below it was surprisingly lush. And Lindsey has the sexiest legs possible, now I could see them all at once, right down to her pretty pink painted toenails. Coming back up to look at the slow smile on her face told me she knew exactly what she was doing - and wanted every bit of it. I felt good about it, because it was her choice now. - - - Lindsey let me look at her for a long time. Long enough for me to realize that I'd rather be holding her than just looking. Then, in the way young women can tease - although nothing about Lindsey was any sort of tease now - she walked slowly forward on the balls of her feet, one foot placed precisely in front of the other, as though she was still wearing her heels. When she reached me she wrapped her arms around me and pressed her chest against mine. I automatically put my arm around her in return. And when she turned her face up for another kiss I was more than happy to oblige. I thought it might stop there unless I moved things along further myself. But once she had my arms around her body and out of the way, she got busy with her hands. Moments later I was as naked as she was. By now there was no lack of sexual interest on my part, which was apparent to any onlooker. Once she knew I was ready, Lindsey dragged me off to our bed and proceeded to give me the most aggressive sexual experience of my life. At times she was on top of me, and other times I was on top of her. She rubbed her chest against mine, and squirmed with pleasure when I handled those firm, young beasts and nipples. She kissed every part of my body, much of it as I kept running my hands over her small, tight ass. At one point I remember licking the full length of her leg while she genuinely laughed in pleasure. Whatever had inhibited her - and me - before was gone now. This Lindsey's body was still virginal, and once I finally entered her she held me there longer than I would have believed possible. Exhausted finally, we cuddled together as tightly as we could press our bodies. I was amazed how lifelike Lindsey felt. There simply is no difference. Her last whispered words that night were her traditional, though now shortened, prayer. "Thanks, for everything," she told me. "I love you." They carried a lot more meaning than ever before. - - - Our life together changed that night one more time. Lindsey became my lover and partner, not my servant. And our lovemaking isn't confined to just at night - or only in bed. Although she acclimated a lot to her new mind that first afternoon and evening, Lindsey's full growth occurred over the next several weeks as she fully settled into it. In some ways I truly believe that having grown up in such a smaller mind to start with allows her to now make much better use of this mind. Compared to other "big fembots" I've since met, Lindsey remains unique. Once she had a good grasp on who she has become, we ordered a number of new programs for her mind to play with. These were the sorts that were too complex to have ever been loaded or processed in her original mind. Before long I couldn't find her limits anymore - which is exactly the way I like it. The funniest outcome of all this is that once again we started at the beginning and repeated all our best adventures together so that Lindsey could finally enjoy them in full living color with live surround sound. I didn't mind a bit. It's not like I had a job or anything else taking my time. And when she told me how she finally understood my explanation of what art is all about, I knew she'd arrived. Yet despite her tremendous growth Lindsey remains intensely loyal and devoted. She likes it when I give her formal commands through her remote - which I never see the necessity for, but apparently she does. When I once kidded her about how she'd leave me now that she was so smart and capable, she sat me down and explained how she would never forget her origins, or who lifted her out of them. Her love is never given casually - or incompletely. What I have is the nicest, most loyal, capable mind residing in the hottest sixteen-year-old body imaginable. And she's learning how to use every bit of it. - - - One day Jake called. Refusing to specify why, all he would say was, "Bring Lindsey in." When we arrived he shooed me away and told me to come back much later that afternoon. Considering all he has done for us, I could hardly refuse. When I returned, an exceptional, twenty-three-year-old woman was waiting to greet me. Jake had somehow gotten this spare body that resembled a grown-up Lindsey down to the last detail. He assures me that it is of the highest quality manufacture and will last a lifetime. Even the extended lifetimes of this age. Jake showed it privately to Lindsey and asked her if she wanted it. Lindsey had wanted to consult with me, but Jake had correctly insisted that this had to be her choice. When she accepted he made the transfer himself. When Lindsey told me again that night how she loved me, it was the most natural - and true - thing for me to tell her how completely I loved her in return. - - - We still see robots like the original Lindsey and her sisters both for sale, and out on the streets when we go out on the town. They're everywhere. You can't miss them. I thought the sight of this might bother her the way the boys and girls wearing memory discs once had - but it doesn't. As she explained it once, "I know now all of us have the potential become the best we can possibly be. It just takes the right person to see it in us. And that's why I love you so very much." I guess in the end I got everything I came into the future to find. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderators: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at Hosted by | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+