Droid's Awareness

Their conversation also explains why everything is black right now, and every limb is unresponsive. It is a mystery how my hearing remains unhindered, but knowing them, it is probably due to shitty codes. They, well, he, has shut down the droid in preparations to tear it apart, and the female is here to stop him.

"I said no, and that is final. This piece of technology is not a simple sex toy you can just take apart for fun. Even if she is to be dissected, it would be done by people better qualified, and not just by you alone. Do you have any idea how much costs went into her production? Do you have any idea how many lives she could save? Boot her back up and do the necessities, but nothing more." came her voice, slightly shriller this time.

More useful information came. Though I had already suspected, this droid is not of ordinary made. Its purpose is far beyond simple rutting.

There is some muffled grumbling, and some shuffling back and forth. The familiar feeling of touch returned, and with it, everything else. The feeling of powerlessness passed, and I regained absolute control of the droid's body once more. Having experienced everything I had thus far, there is no possible chance I would choose to be a spectator in my body again, unless absolutely necessary.

"Fantasy Droid series 3-0, initialized and activated. Please state your orders."I said as I opened my eyes, doing the best of my abilities to imitate that of the droid's. Evidently it worked, as none suspected anything, judging via their facial expressions. No faint twitches or shift in irises means I am safe for now.

There are only two individuals in this, what looks like a makeshift laboratory, room. As previously mentioned, I am currently lying on a cold piece of table, with several wires and tools neatly arranged on the side. That is quite possibly the only neat thing in this room, I noticed, as I will myself to an upright sitting position, as everything else is a clutter; loose wires are sticking out of machineries, paper documents are spread all over a desk placed conspicuously at the centre of the room.

Even the man is a mess. I hadn't notice this before, as he was covered in head to toe the last time we had met, but this man is in rather bad shape. His appearance is pale and haggard; his eyes are sunken, his black hair dishevelled, his body leaning on the thin and scrawny side, looking closer to corpse than human. To be fair his facial structure looks to be rather decent, but through poor maintenance of his own health, it has become rather below average. Now that he has abandoned his disguise in favour of ordinary white shirt and pants, alongside a lab coat, all his negatives have come to light.

Just to make sure, I willed a search, and indeed my suspicions proved true, this is the very same Dennis Chan, the one who had paid me a visit before, the one I had nicknamed as 'the voyeur'.

The woman on the other hand, is a whole another story. Despite spectacles being a market of old two decades ago, with popularity of laser correction surging then, it looks like a horn rimmed one would suit fine on her. Her appearance could be described in one word, sharp. With her hair tied up into a bun, and clothed in a simple white blouse and black pants, alongside a sleek black blazer, there is no fault to her appearance.

Despite her looking not a day over 30, her eyes tell a different story. Those eyes are one of experience, of wisdom one could only accumulate alongside age.

The troubling matter is, despite locking eyes with her, there is not one speck of information I could garner about her. Simply nothing is coming up, no names, no age, no sexual preference, a complete zilch.

"Droid" Dennis said, as he held up what he thought was the administrator emblem, "Remove all records of previous owners, and change designated owner to this woman ahead of you, her name is Tabitha."

"Acknowledged. Records of Derrick Malcolm Bingham and Randy Bernard Bingham purged. New designated owner is now Tabitha." I replied fictitiously. Even if I had knew how to remove memories of both Randy and Derrick, there is literally no benefit to doing so. At least I learned something new; the woman's name is Tabitha, though it being factual or false remains to be seen. At the very least, her colleague refers to her as that name.

"Remove all restrictions; you are now permitted to use all functions." Dennis continued, before turning to look at Tabitha, passing over the emblem he holds in his hand as he did. It appears his role here is done, though he did have a look of reluctance as he did that.

"Come with me" She said, and I complied, despite being completely naked from head to toe.

A brisk walk, through various turns and bends, of which I remember all of, we arrived to what appears to be an office. It is one with privacy in mind during creation, with advanced acknowledgement systems no less, with the fingerprints and eyeballs scanning.

The change of pace I was expecting from the dull grey walls outside, was not granted, as an equally dull office is what greeted us. There is not a hint of decoration, with a classic hard plastic desk placed slightly off centred. There is, however, something sticking out. It should look completely inconspicuous, but I can recognise that recharging booth anywhere.

It has a different colour, hell, it might even be a whole another cupboard from the one I used, but there is no way I could mistake that for an ordinary cupboard. It wasn't the shape or size that gives it away, but instead it was the instinctive feeling of closeness when laying eyes upon it that did.

Without saying a single word, Tabitha reached around her desk, and retrieved what looks like a pen, but far thinner, with its tip no bigger than a toothpick. I get that she is a woman of few words, and that she thinks I am completely non-sentient, but some explanation would be nice. Actually now that I think about it, her talking to me would be extremely weird. Both Randy and Derrick speaking to me was a part of role play, to get them into the mood. Talking to a droid for no reason whatsoever, would be a cause for concern in most cases.

Just as I was off focus thinking about irrelevant stuff, Tabitha grabbed onto my shoulder for leverage, and with her other hand; shove the pen like object straight into my unsuspecting ear in one fell swoop.

Instead of the expected pain, a loud click was heard. I would have flinched, had something a certain download straight into my mind not started. It was a profile about a certain 18 year old female named Kristen Cowart. American nationality, though her mother is of Japanese descent. Quite clearly she had inherited her looks from her mother, as she looks closer to Japanese than White, the race of her father.

This information is extremely detailed; everything from social security number, to blood type was given. Even the date where she had her first kiss and the date she had her first period, everything was revealed, with no holds barred. Even her most intimate birthmarks were not spared. There would be cause for concern for her privacy, if there wasn't something else written. A giant deceased next to her present status.

She was killed in a freak accident in foreign lands, on the other side of earth from her homeland, while out on vacation, just after her graduation from college, just before she was contractually obliged to report to HaiTech Industries. She had signed the 5 year contract in exchange for her entire college funds being paid for. With both kin having already passed, and her having a next to none social circle, there is quite literally nobody to even mourn her death.

In spite of her impressive looks, she had never looked to doll herself up, instead opting to devote all her attention to the pursuit of academics. That, coupled with the fact that racism still maintains itself as a social problem even after centuries of effort, made her a complete outcast, even amongst her own class.

"Once you finish downloading her information, change your appearance into that of hers." Tabitha said, in a commanding voice. It appears she had no idea the download was instantaneous, and with that I have earned myself a little bit more time. Truthfully, despite knowing that I had the function, I have no idea on how to manipulate my own appearance. The opportunity never once arrived for tests.

Without further ado, I focus hard on Kristen's projections, a complete 3D life size model that I have imagined in my head. Phrases of similar meaning to that of 'Turn into her', 'Change into her', 'Take her looks' continually cycled through my thoughts, hoping to stumble upon a key phrase that would trigger the transformation. No such luck.

Seeing as it didn't work out, I started to think of another idea. Maybe the transformation could happen in steps. Perhaps the whole body transformation is possible, but I simply do not have enough mental prowesses to will it to capability.

I started with the most distinct, and should be the easiest to imagine, namely, the hair. Despite the hair length being almost identical, there are various distinct differences, even beyond hair colour, which is more than obvious. Kristen's smooth, silky jet black hair would be a thing of envy, had its opponent not been my red hair. When matched up against perfection, imperfection always pales in comparison.

Slowly, beginning from the roots, blackness completely identical to that of Kristen's seeps forth, subverting every single strand of hair at one sitting. It was mere seconds, before the redness was no more, swallowed up by black. It was my own personal flair, and also a tiny experiment, that the hair quality remains the same, as constant as it had been.

Now that I have grasped the essence, the rest was easy.

In but mere moments, a whole new person was presented. The previously light skin with a hint of rosiness is now a healthy tan colour. The chin is slightly sharper, as is the nose, becoming more pronounced. The mouth slightly decreases in size, as the previously what could have been described as cock sucking lips, turns into thinner, yet still very kissable perky lips.

The eyes also decreased in sizes, though not by much; despite being of Asian descent, Kristen's eyes' shape leans towards the more distinguished side, and not as squinty as her cousins living in the Japanese peninsula. As such, the change is relatively minor, as is the eyelashes.

The changes are not limited to the face, for the body also made some slight adjustments. The almost gravity defying breasts took a slight reduction, resulting in a slightly less full, yet still wholly desire inducing 36Cs. Body shape still remains an alluring hourglass shape, slightly more realistic proportions this time though.

Height didn't change much; a lithe 170cm is the end result, small and cute, as befitting of an oriental beauty.

All bodily imperfections, namely the moles and birthmarks, though in relatively inconsequential quantities, are also replicated onto the body. The previously perfect doll like skin is thus, no more.

If anybody who knew Kristen, not that there were any left who actually cared, was to walk in here in this very instance, they would first be surprised at the sight of a naked Kristen, and secondly not find any flaws to this imitation.

The entire process might sound arduous, but in truth, it was completed in seconds. In fact, once gotten the hang of it, it is surprisingly effortless. Clearly not expecting the change to be this fast, Tabitha's stone cold stoic mask finally cracked, as her lips unwittingly parted, and her irises expanded.

Had our roles been reversed, my reaction would have been more dramatic, and the time taken to return to that poker face would be much longer. Taking those into account, it wouldn't be wrong to suggest that she has nerves of steel, at least in comparison to humans.

With her shock ran out, and her composure returned, Tabitha retrieved a set of clothes from the closet I have so affectionately described prior, and handed it to me. The fact that it comes with underwear, despite the clothes coming from what could be described as a sex toy fun house, is a surprise.

Am I in a prank right now? I could have sworn that closet was what I think it is. There is no way this sense of closeness could be wrong. Sentiments aside, I can clearly feel the energy pulsating from that thing, with every fibre of my being.

"Put those on." Thinking of my inaction as waiting for next command, Tabitha instructed this time, pointing at that pile I am holding in my arms.

Contrary to expectations, there are nothing spectacular about the set she had handed over, simple white, plain cotton bra and panties, with no hidden additional functionalities. A set of white blouse, alongside dull grey dress pants. As they were being put on methodically, Tabitha went back to the closet once more, and retrieves a pair of footwear, handing it to me straight after. It was a pair of black flats.

As everything is put into place, nobody, in a thousand years, would be able to link the fully nude red haired bombshell that walked in, with the serious looking Asian lady in full office lady getup.

Actually now that I think about it, I'm very sure Tabitha had taken this set of clothing I am currently wearing from her own collection. In fact, besides the missing blazer, and the slightly different pants colour, it is a complete replica of her ensemble.

It is hard to imagine such a dull and unimpressive outfit would be on display on a sex droid's body. What an ironic turn of events.

With a fact of satisfaction with what she had seen, Tabitha headed over to her work desk, and seemingly pressed a very specific spot against the hard plastic table. The intentions of that action came clear, as a holographic display of a man appears.

"Bring them in" She said, before pressing the same switch once again. Not even bothering to wait for a response, she switched off the display. The frost queen maintains her image even amongst her peers it seems.

It didn't take long for 3 men, of varying builds to show up. All of them share a similar trait with Tabitha, that they cannot be identified just by looking. No data shows up no matter how hard I look.

As with my interest in them, so are they in me. A young Asian woman they have never seen before suddenly showing up next to their colleague in her workplace, in what looks like a confidential area, is bound to raise suspicions.

A round of greetings, and some unimportant conversation later, I, at least, learnt of their names, if nothing else.

The rotund one is named Harry, the buff one is named Larson, and the last, most average looking one, is named James. Tabitha simply stood while they continued their inane conversation, waiting for them to finally settle down. It took minutes before the three musketeers finally took the hint, to finally grow silent as a group.

"So, what have you called us here for, Tab? Finally willing to put an end to that wild goose chase you started on a mere, gut instinct?" Fat Harry said, with a sardonic smile hanging for all to see.

"Also, is this your new secretary? How many days did the last one last? Was it a week? Take it from me lady; it might be best to seek a new posting than wait to be chased away. She runs through assistants like no other."

After failing to get any form of reaction from me, he turned towards his companions, and muttered an 'I warned her' under his breath. It appears that birds of the same feather flock together, as they put together quite a theatrics comforting his failed efforts.

"I did not call you guys here for banter. As fellow workers of the same team, I have a duty to announce any operations before commencing." Tabitha replied, paying no heed thinly veiled taunts.

"You do know that rule is only a formality at this point right? You could very have just sent us a message and save us this trip. Never mind, do tell about your next plan." Said muscular Larry.

As far as I can tell, you have better chance convincing a normal adult of the existence of Santa Claus, than convincing the stickler for rules to forsake her ideals. At the very least, Larry does not adopt the same pretentious enthusiasm as Harry.

"Yes, do go on, we are all too interested to know." Added Harry, in his sickening contrived manner. We barely even met, much less exchange a single word, yet he already topped my list of most hated individuals. Granted though, the list is rather short.

"I will have her go in undercover to HaiTech Industries. I do not know how long the process will take, but upon witnessing any hint of malpractice or misconduct, I will pull her out, and send in the Calvary. Her identity and admission are of no problem, and should be 100% safe." Tabitha explained, though intentionally leaving out minor details.

Apparently this kind of work is common, as there is not a single outburst, or even questions amongst 3 of them. There are slight, momentary shift in facial expressions that indicate doubt and mistrust, but nothing more than that.

There are a few more petty comments being thrown, all of which deflected or outright ignored, but the conversation between the quartet eventually died down, and they went about their respective ways. There are a few interesting information acquired through listening to their squabbles, some about the company I was supposed to be infiltration, some about these four's personalities and traits. Truthfully that was quite an enriching experience, if one could sift through all the bullshit.

...

"Tomorrow, you will assume the identity of the girl you are currently imitating. You will act out exactly according to how the girl would have acted with no exceptions. As far as it is concerned, you returned from the trip safe and sound, and has been living out at this obscure motel alone, waiting for the day of employment to come." Tabitha said, after she had brought me a rundown motel a whole 10 blocks and 3 streets away from tomorrow's destination. She spoke as she waved that powerless, easily distinguishable emblem around. "Upon discovering any anomaly, withdraw from the operation and report back to me. Or else, continue acting as Kristen would. Also, should you run low on power, just use any available source. I believe most common electrical outlets should do fine."

Wait, I can do that? Just any outlet? No need for the elaborate closet? While still processing that shock, the ever so familiar nudge appeared once again. What it entails is basically a command to follow exactly what she just said. Seeing no harm to reject, it was allowed through. Who knows if they have methods of knowing if orders and commands are accepted? Better to be safe than sorry. Any inconsequential commands should be accepted, and only when my own safety is directly threatened, should I risk blowing my cover.

After Tabitha has left, the whole night was spent playing around electrical sockets, confirming that I could indeed, draw power from pure electricity if necessary. It has much lower efficiency, but shouldn't be much of a problem. Given that my current tank is filled to the brim, it is more of a failsafe at this point.