Modular Souls [Hapto x Yenpointfive, robots, romance and body-modification]

In truth, it might have been for the best that the parts hadn't shown up yet. Alex might not have been able to resist the urge to install them and while the Soul Core AI could easily be given drivers for the new bits there was a warning that the personality itself wasn't altered to know about the added hardware. Their personalities were much too complex for the average user to simply go in and tweak them to make the robot okay with the new addition. Fortunately he hadn't done anything drastic like give her wings or a cock. In fact she probably wouldn't notice anything off at first.

Then again, this was going to be the first time she was turned on. After he'd made a very thorough safety check to ensure that he had in fact put her head back on correctly, he switched her on. Initial boot up would be a bit of an ordeal from what he understood. The Soul Cores had only been on the market a day or two and one of the largest complaints so far was how long it took a personality to generate itself. It could be thirty minutes to a couple of hours. However long it was going to be it was definitely enough time for Alex to get a cup of tea.

When her eyes did finally open the first sight she'd see would be Alex Wright sitting on the couch across from the recliner she was propped up in, reading a book. There were certainly much worse sights to wake up to than Alex. He was tall and handsome with rather youthful features for a man in his mid twenties. His hair was a sort of dirty blond color that went nicely with his emerald green eyes. For the moment he was dressed in a t-shirt and cargo pants, the latter of which had a few tools sticking out of the pockets. Everything seemed normal at first but that would only be until she caught her reflection in something. At the moment her hair was every color of the rainbow and hanging down to her mid back.


For Lambda, time began. Though the way it began is not as one would first imagine. The Big Bang did not exlode at a point and att a time, because before the bang there was no space, no time. And before that moment there was nothing for Lambda, no darkness, no silence, no reality and no time to experience it in. Until the moment she would thereafter remember as t = 0, when she began.

The process took some time, a thing she could now measure. 10.4 seconds of it had passed before every system was confirmed online. 59.6 seconds had elapsed by the time her entire memory had been booted up and was ready to begin. And it began with a line of code that, roughly translated, said: "I am me."

Now there was an 'I' to think this, and a 'me', and both were give the name: "Lambda 314." And no sooner was she 'Lambda' than she was given a world of images and sensations, facts and art, history and literature, a universe of stimulus and years in which to absorb it all, to form her own opinions, her own feelings, to learn to be. Decades passed for her, all in the space of just under thirty minutes. After which she blinked her blue eyes.

Blue was Lambda's favorite colour, the warm blue of an ocean stretching out to an endless horizon, the first image that had truly made her feel - breathless, as it were. Now her eyes shone the same blue, and as she raised her head slightly the rainbow colours of her hair settled into a deep, vibrant purple - the colour an artist had painted grapes in a bowl of fruit, the colour encapsulating the potential for life and sweetness.
She blinked again, and surveyed the room. There was a human seated across from her, his retina matching the online file for an Alex Wright, whose transaction history showed him as her owner. There was a script she was meant to follow, blinking in the corner of her vision.

She began. "Good -" check local, 09:32:06, "- morning," she greeted, without any discernible gap. "I am model number Lambda 314. You may call me Lambda. What may I call you?"

Alex had expected the first shock of the day to be hers but he was the one left starring instead when her rainbow colored hair settled out into a shade of purple just like that. Her hair had been a custom installation. Rather than swapping out different sets of hair that were essentially extremely nice wigs Lambda would be able to change the length, color, and to some extent style of her hair just by thinking about it. Plenty of early models before the soul core were were good at making it look as if things had been done subconsciously but that was the first time he honestly wondered if it had been.

"Alex will do nicely for now." He said with a soft smile as he stood and circled her. His eyes were all at once a proud father looking upon his daughter, a sculptor looking upon clay, and a wolf looking at lunch. "We're going to try something now and I do hope you're not going to hold this against me. Stand up and undress. We're going to be testing out some of your more sensitive systems." He told her with a smile. Naturally he'd already seen her naked. she had shipped with clothing but he'd had to take it off to do some work on her. He'd dressed her again before turning her on however. What he had planed for her wouldn't be half as fun if she couldn't appreciate it. A gynoid who would simply do as she was told without even an opinion of whether or not she enjoyed the order would simply learn to agree with whatever order he gave and whatever his opinion about herself was. He had designs for her and he didn't want her to simply know that she was beautiful. It was true, of course. But there was a big difference in knowing that something was true and believing that it was. If he could shock her he could wow her and when she was finally in awe of herself his job would be done. This was only a test.

Not that that meant the test couldn't be fun.

As he regarded her, she regarded him, the left side of her face visibly lighting with the angles and lines of circuitry wrought in moving purple light. Her owner had a handsome face, and not in the sense of 'large sum of money' handsome, but attractive, most measurements conforming to the golden ratio to a high degree. His nose reminded her of Leonardo's Da Vinci's David statue, and his hair was how she'd imagined Leto Atriedes II's hair would look, from his description in Dune. Her owner was very attractive, but - his eyes....

They were her owner's eyes, so she should like them. She did like them, she told herself. It was just - they reminded her of Thispe's speech in Midsummer Night's Dream, Act 5:

... His eyes were green as leeks.
O Sisters Three,
Come, come to me,
With hands as pale as milk;
Lay them in gore, ...​

A notification was flashing in the corner of her vision. Her owner had said something. She reminded her memory:

"We're going to try something now" fast-forward "Stand up and undress." The command was posted 1.2 seconds ago! How had so much time passed?! She thought much faster than that. Though it seemed, when she thought of emotions, everything slowed. And when she'd thought of his eyes.... Loki, the Norse god of mischief was meant to have green eyes. Her attention kept wondering to the database of tools protruding from his cargo-belt, their various functions, applications.

2.1 seconds had passed!

She stood up abruptly, the circuitry lights on her face dimming. They flickered one last time as she checked his social-networking profiles, cross referenced, found a promising match under 'favorite films', watched the film. There!

She slowly turned away from him, her hips swaying more than necessary as she imitated the woman in the film that was playing before her eyes. In time with woman in the scene, she raised both her arms up behind her back, her fingers reaching up to delicately find the clasp of her dress - having to adapt slightly from the cocktail dress the woman wore to the measurements of the blue and orange product dress she wore. Compensating, she slowly lowering the clasp in time, easing it over the black line of her bra. She continued, watching as in the film the curve of the woman's back became visible, then the black line of her underwear suggesting itself just over the unclasped dress, knowing the same view was now visible to her owner. In time, and with the same exaggerated grace and delicacy, she raised both hands up to the straps of her dress, using only her fingertips to move them until they fell off her shoulders, the entire dress falling from her body. Her hands lowered, passing before her breasts as they did to fire the imagination of the watcher behind, of her owner, as she turned her face towards him, imitating a slight intake of breath as she looked down towards the strap of her bra and smiled coyly.

"Do you mind?" she asked in time with the film.

If she had shared half her thoughts on his form with him he would have loved her all the more for it. Both for the rightness of her choice of Shakespeare lines and for any reference at all to Dune. It was a real shame that went unsaid. There was an awful joke about undressing without rhythm so as not to attract the worm which it would have probably sparked. Truthfully it was probably best for both the sake of humor and his ego that she didn't liken him to an Atriedes. Truth be told he wouldn't be surprised if she preferred to liken him to the Tleilaxu by the time he was done with her.

It wasn't until a few moments in that he recognized the scene she was copying but he had to give her credit for her taste. He kept that look in his eyes like a hungry lion watching his meal, watching her slip off the product dress. He made a mental note to hang on to it. He was to understand that most people tended to get rid of the garments their gynoids shipped in, to better convince themselves that they were laying with a flesh-and-blood human. Alex didn't need that delusion. He'd been inside parts of her that he could have never safely delved on anyone who bled. In that regard she was to be considered a complete improvement over his own species. The question was still whether or not she could play the rest of her part like one.

He smiled at the request. The film called for him to lightly undo her bra, what he did instead was to loop his finger through the strap, gently tugging her back towards him. "Finish the dance." He ordered softly, his lips inches from her ear as he undid her bra one-handed. The film would end the dance with her in the hero's lap and he saw no reason to adlib on that point. He took a seat on the couch once more and directed his eyes to her, waiting for her to pick back up where she left off. He was wondering if changing the lines on her would throw her off. Smart as she was she must know he was messing with her.

The purple circuits lights flicker up and down the side of her face for a full second. Out of the 93 simulations she ran, 3 were flagged as statistically promising. She could comply, finishing the entire scene as ordered. She could comply, but altering the scene into the second-act duet-dance number of the film which lead to the climactic intimate-encounter. Or she could comply, including the erotic dance/strip-routine elements found in her default database to protected remove her undone bra and her panties as she approached.

But none of them... felt right. A few seconds later, she smiled.

Her bra hit him in the face. "Finished," he heard on the other side of the blinding underwear, and by the time the garment and shock allowed him to see, she was no longer in the room.

He rather liked those circuits on Lambda's face. In addition to being interesting and eye catching they let you see when her mind was working over time. You couldn't necessarily pick up on what was going through her head but the simple fact that she was spending the processing power on him was rather flattering. That smile she gave him caused suspicion to enter his glance. That smile looked like something he might see in a mirror and nothing good would come of it. Sure enough the world went dark and when he yanked the bra free he was alone.

He stood up rather quickly. The apartment wasn't terribly big and there were only so many places to go. The most likely of which was his bedroom, which still contained some spare parts. Most notably, her original tongue was sitting on his desk. And if she found that she'd probably try to figure out what she had installed instead. The correct answer was an extendable model that was about fourteen inches long and extremely dextrous. Her old one could tie cherry stems into knots, this one could tie itself into just about any knot in the boyscout manual. He wasn't quite sure how she'd take that and bolted after her.

When he reached her she was in the bedroom, but thankfully not standing over her old tongue. She was instead just finishing fastening on a new bra, one of the simple black ones he had bought for her. Then, wearing her underwear, she turned to greet his abrupt arrival with a tone of mock innocence, as she 'asked':

"Miss me already?"

He sighed a bit when he got to the room and realized that she hadn't noticed either her old parts or the box for the new ones on the desk. He managed a grin even if he was silently trying to work out how to keep her from noticing any of that until such time as he was ready.

An idea came to mind, though he wasn't sure if it was going to work. "You know better than to run off like that..." He told her as he took a step forward. He swept his hand across the desk, sweeping everything off into the trash bin beside of it. "You understand the concept of 'bend over', right? If I'm going to have to punish you then you ought to at least take it like a big girl."

She frowned slightly. Her circuits flashed unbidden, calling up a flagged data-file that had been installed only in the last universal update, after repeated... incidents, with users of the new model type. The file was a simple, two-sentence script for her to read:

'I'm not like other gynoids. Please do not order me as one. It feels wrong.'

The third sentence was her own addition to what she would have said, was about to say, the circuits flashing up and down her face simulating the different ways to say it. All while another datum was prodding at her attention, a line she'd always remembered from a work describing the process of fiction, considered by many to be the cardinal rule thereof. It stated: "show, don't tell." And here, for her purposes, she felt it very much applied.

Her circuits twinkled and flashed. She shook her head and the lighted winked out. She smiled. She walked towards Alex.

There are some sights that are almost literally heart-stopping, and one of the nicer ones is a gorgeous woman in revealing underwear walking with confident intent straight towards you, her lips the focus of your world as they part, and lean in...

She'd stopped, her lips one breath away from touching his own, her head tilted to one side, frozen leaning in for the kiss she wasn't giving, as her open eyes regarded his with a disarming focus. Her face lowered, as her head slowly descended down his body. Her fingertips ever so lightly trailed down his chest, his stomach, his belt, until she was bent forward, her lips right before his crotch. She smiled innocently, and one finger touched up between his legs, flicking upwards to brush him once through the fabric, before her hand raised to hook two steadying fingers through his belt, as if to pull him closer, but also leaving him no way of smoothly stepping back or untangling himself without also losing face.

Her own face looked up into his, smiling with apparent innocence. "Like this?"

He watched as the circuits flickered to life at his order and quickly came to the conclusion that the request he'd made was not what he'd be getting. When she suggested that she didn't want to be ordered he was a little surprised. She'd been having conscious reactions with the real world for less than an hour and she was already making decisions about what she did and didn't like. He sighed a bit and gave her a little smile. "I'll try to remember that a firm tone isn't necessary." He said, the statement containing the free admission that it might take him a little bit to remember that. To his credit he'd known the full time that she didn't have to obey his orders but he was still feeling out her personality. Clearly she was turning out a little bit different than he expected.

As she stepped towards him he considered the fact that he was probably just as much an oddity to her as she was to him. He had no doubts that the company who originally made her had given her some measure of knowledge as to what to expect from her owner. Fawning over her and treating her like an angel were fine for some but her warranties were voided before she was ever switched on. He wasn't sure whether that made him god or the devil in this analogy but it certainly wasn't the relationship she'd been designed for. Somehow he expected she knew that as well as he did.

He watched as she worked her way down his body, her eyes eventually coming to level with a rather sizable bulge in her owner's pants. The gentle prod she gave him was met with resistance, a hardness beneath the fabric. The way she hooked his belt to trap him there was amusing, the way she feigned innocence disarming. Clearly she did have a sense he wasn't the owner that she might have had, her reactions were a bit surprising. He sort of wondered if the new drivers had accidentally altered her start up process since he rather doubted her creators intended for her to walk all over her owner.

Either way, it hardly mattered because neither of them were normal. That much was clear. "So I don't get to give orders but you get to tease? Maybe you don't quite get who you're dealing with. Would you like to find out?" He asked cryptically, pausing for a moment to watch her reaction before laughing a bit and sticking out his tongue playfully at her. The beauty of the thing is that she need only reciprocate the childish gesture and she'd figure out exactly who she was dealing with. The question was how his abnormal toy would react to his abnormal upgrade.

She did not disappoint, returning gesture for gesture by sticking her tongue out - and out - and out. Her eye were wide as she stared down at the length of her tongue. Her circuits flickered. She stared up at him accusingly.

"ot ib oo oo," she tried with a mouthful of tongue, staring back down at it in mixed disbelief and... something else. Curiosity perhaps.

It would be inaccurate to say she gave her tongue an experimental 'flick.' 'Wave' or 'writhe' would be much more appropriate. Her eyes widened still, but her brows remained furrowed in confused accusation as she stared back up at him. With a sudden force she tugged his belt closer with her hand, and with that same look on her face she reached for his belt buckle with her tongue.

Alex wasn't going to lie and say he purchased her second hand or even sugarcoat it and suggest this was some factory extra he'd had installed. He watched her swish her lengthy tongue about with a smile. "And this is why I get to give orders. Because that's what makes it worth my while to install your upgrades." He said, his smile softening a bit as he added in. "By the way, you look beautiful like that." From anyone else it would have sounded like he was teasing her but he made it sound genuine. Pleasure was always one of her uses but she had just been given a modification that was literally just for that and nothing else. Oddly enough he found that rather attractive.

When she yanked him forward he gave in to the motion and let her hold him in place by his belt. Her tongue was naturally dextrous enough to undo the buckle and he clearly didn't intend to stop her. That bulge in his pants was getting a little out of hand and the buckle was pressed towards her, barely containing the flesh beneath it that was aching to get out. Right now he didn't feel the need to give her any orders. She could figure this bit out on her own.