Coral-600 (5 page)

Quinn put his head in his hands. “Why is this turning me on? I'm sick.”

I looked to Paisley. “Did he bump a button in his system? What part of him is turned on?”

Paisley watched Quinn for a moment before nodding and smiling. “His cock, Coral. His genitals are turned on. It's an expression that means his body is readying itself for sex.”

“But he told me he didn't want to have sex with me.”

“That's the fun part about men. They can't control their genitals. It's a pretty great system. They have a difficult time lying about being turned on. We can hide ours pretty easily as long as we wear a solid cup bra.” Paisley looked at my chest.

I looked down as well. My nipples had distended and were a stronger outline against the tank top. I reached up and brushed my hands against the raised nubs. An electrical current ran down to my pussy. Just a simple touch and the knowledge that Quinn was aroused had me ready for another orgasm.

But with how good orgasms felt, I would probably always be ready for one of those.

“Coral, stop that. Torturing Quinn is bad manners.” Paisley put aside her coffee and gripped my wrists to push my hands away from my breasts. “It's getting me a little hot too, and my sexual partners of choice for the evening deploy tomorrow. It's not nice to remind someone of the sex they can't have.”

I wouldn't want to have bad manners. I tried to adjust my actions for the remainder of the conversation.

The night continued in much the same way. Paisley would say something, I would ask a question, and Quinn would get aroused. He acted like he was being tortured, and yet he stayed with us until the cooks entered the kitchen for breakfast prep. Both Paisley and Quinn retired to their rooms to sleep.

I should have stopped my analytics program, but there was so much data to process, and I found that I didn't want to shut it down and stop.

Miss Matilda was looking for me anyway. We had three mechanics that needed work. The baseboard cleaning bot needed a new bristle brush. It had begun to scrape the woodwork, and the painters had to work overtime to touch up the scratches. Mechanics don't need to sleep like humans, and there is no mechanics bill of rights or labor union. The human-only establishment I'd visited had hammered home that I wasn't worthy of more than maintenance consideration. We were made to do our jobs and that was all there was to it. I replayed the images of everyone around me and how the music took hold of me and moved my body. I didn't want to be just my job.

I was different than most mechanics. I was infinitely more complex, but I also had artificial intelligence. There weren't many like me.

Artificial intelligence made some humans uncomfortable. Not in the way Quinn was uncomfortable either. People did not like the idea of something they couldn't label. I wasn't human, but I was not exactly a toaster oven either.

I learned, I changed, and in a way…I grew. I had coral DNA regenerating constantly. That was more growth than most humans. And my CPU was not operating the same way any longer. The cells of the skin and sensory tissue had to be connected to the mechanical devices in my body to process the data. Something about those connections had changed recently.

About a week ago I had even cut open a section under my thigh to investigate what was going on. Before Paisley caught me in the bathtub, I was confused by the sight. Where the circuitry had been joined to the skin by a few pieces of tissue, it was now completely encased. The pain receptors were causing massive amounts of discomfort and I could not make myself dig deeper. Paisley screaming about all the fluid leaking from my wound was equally distracting. I explained to her that very little of it was actually blood like she meant. Most of the liquid spilled was easily replenished by my lubricating maintenance drink.

I didn't cut myself open again after that. The large cut healed in a matter of days. I didn't scar. The regenerative properties of my tissue had it looking better than normal. Which probably meant that if my tissue did begin to fade after many more years, cutting it off might cause the missing skin to come back in a better state than before.

I wouldn't need another transplant. I would find that process incredibly painful without an entire system shut-down. Parts of my memory would be lost if I did that. I wondered sometimes if a shut-down would be equivalent to a human death. I was data at the end of the day, and data could be recovered, but there was something about the way I received data now that was different.

I never wanted to shut down. Losing the years and years of service without human interaction would not be a loss. Losing the data from Paisley and Quinn…that would be…sad. Sad? That was a human emotion. How could I feel sad?

Miss Matilda's voice pulled me back from my data review.

“Coral, the bot needs repairs. Standing here holding it won't fix it. You need to take it into town today. Mr. Montgomery will be at the shop as a favor to me. He'll replace the part for you.” Miss Matilda was pushing me forward. She was human and couldn't move me on her own strength, but she flicked the underside of my arm to activate a particularly well-functioning pain receptor.

That always made me move or jumpstarted my processes again. I didn't like it when she did that.

“Should I drop off the mechanics or wait for the repair?” I increased my pace enough to get away from her fingers.

Satisfied I was moving fast enough, Miss Matilda followed me outside and reached into her uniform jacket for her electronic cigarette and puffed as we worked our way out of the building. The vapor twisted around her face and sunk into the wrinkles. I could almost see the chemicals coating the lines of her face and causing more.

“Wait for the repair. It shouldn't take more than an hour. Mr. Montgomery said you can use his recharge station while you wait.”

I was more than satisfied with that offer. With all the data I planned on collecting tonight, I could use a little magnetic boost.

Chapter Five

The day shift passed without anything interesting happening. I served meals for the queen, I cleaned and I prepared a list of questions for Paisley to answer about how I should behave tonight. All of my preparation went out the window when Quinn entered the kitchen as I cleaned up the remaining dishes.

“Quinn, you missed dinner. Should I prepare something for you? The chefs have left, but I am programmed with basic culinary skills.” I put the dish back into the soapy water and dried my hands on the dish towel I had slung over my shoulder.

“Are you really going out with Paisley to get laid tonight?” He asked me with his hands on his hips. His manner was very confrontational.

“That does not answer my question about the food.”

“I want an answer to my question first.” He folded his arms over his chest. His forearms flexed and I admired the musculature under his skin. I wondered if any of his arms were mechanics.

“I was planning on dancing more. I was not planning on lying down.”

He exhaled and dropped his arms. “Then yes, I would love a sandwich.”

I prepared him a sandwich and removed some of the fennel salad to put on his plate as well. I waited for him to make noises of contentment around his meal before I continued the conversation. “I will, however, have sex should the opportunity arise. I find myself anticipating the opportunity to have another orgasm.”

Quinn began choking. He had inhaled his sandwich. That was no way to process nutrients. I walked behind him and slapped him on the back to break up any large particles in his airway. He sputtered and made noises, but drank the water I put in front of him and seemed to recover nicely.

I would have given him the Heimlich maneuver, but I found myself wanting to touch him in other places and it would not have been easy to keep my hands in the proper position.

“Coral, you can't go pick up men and have sex with them.”

“I will do my best to give them an orgasm as well. I want to make sure the experience is satisfactory for all parties involved.” I went back to the dishes. Quinn should have been satisfied now that I had explained I would not be seeking only my pleasure.

He wasn't.

“That's not what I am getting at.” He got up and stood right behind me. My skin felt warmer even without him touching me. Was there some kind of strange reaction that our systems had with each other?

I pulled the drain as I set the last clean dish in the drying rack and turned towards the man behind me. I was going to explain that this was not negotiable. I was going to explain that just because I was mechanics didn't mean I couldn't give and receive this kind of pleasure.

I had all of the words in queue to be processed through my vocal chords. Then Quinn gripped me by my upper arms and leaned in to kiss me. His lips pressed against mine. His body pushed mine up against the sink behind us.

I'd never been more uncomfortable in my maid's uniform. I wanted all of it off. Quinn couldn't touch my pussy with my stockings and underwear on. He needed to touch my pussy. I felt myself getting wet at the thought of him touching me like he did last night. I pressed my hips against his. That's when I knew there were mechanics in both his arms, because he held me tight.

His tongue slipped against my lips. I opened my mouth to ask him why he was licking me on my face when he could have been licking my pussy again. Instead of my argument my tongue was busy wrapping and sliding around Quinn's. This felt good too.

I lifted my hands to his chest and gripped his shirt to pull him closer. When he realized I was not going to push him away he released my arms and wrapped his strong limbs around me. One hand rose to grip the French twist in my hair and move my head where he wanted while he kissed me. The other hand went lower and gripped my ass. He pressed my body harder against his. I liked that.

His erection pressed against my stomach and I wanted to have sex even more. If my pleasure receptors were firing off this much data at the touch of his penis on my belly…through all these layers of clothes…I wanted to have sex. Immediately.

“Master Quinn!” Miss Matilda's voice startled me too.

But Quinn was startled enough to throw me on the floor. Luckily, my butt has adequate padding. Hitting the floor so hard must have been what jumpstarted my systems and had me rebooting what I should have been doing. My internal clock reminded me that I should have had the cleaning charts to Miss Matilda by now.

I didn't know what Quinn's schedule was, but he must have been running behind as well. He bolted from the kitchen using his mechanics to carry him far faster than he usually moved when he was attempting to appear more human.

“Coral, what were you doing with Master Quinn?”

Miss Matilda had her brows furrowed and her arms folded across her chest. I had been slacking off on my duties. She was angry. I was an exemplary worker, but I tended to get in trouble when I spoke. There had been no speaking with Quinn. I much preferred getting into trouble with my mouth this way.

“I believe we were kissing, Miss Matilda.” I righted myself and did a quick systems check. All up and running normally.

“You told me when we began working together that you were not a pleasure model.” She walked up to me and looked up. Miss Matilda was short, even for a human. “I am not so old that I don't notice when a man is experiencing pleasure, and Master Quinn was definitely pleased with what you were doing.”

I smiled because I knew he had been pleased. His genitals were quite large when he left.

A simple explanation to Miss Matilda should suffice in this instance. “I enjoy spending time with Quinn. Paisley says we should get together again.”

“Again?”

Normally I would just spit out that I had had an orgasm in Quinn's bedroom and it was very pleasurable and I wanted another one. Something about the way Miss Matilda was watching my response stopped me from doing so. She really didn't seem like she wanted me to experience pleasure.

The look on her face was one I saw often before she returned a piece of mechanics to the shop for repair. I catalogued her expression again, and realized no, this was more of the expression she used when she returned a piece of mechanics and purchased a new one.

I did not want to be returned to the lab. I hadn't been back to the creation lab since I had my skin transplant. I did not want to go back there. So instead of talking about my orgasm, I discussed something else.

“Paisley thinks I should spend some time out of the palace and learn how to assimilate better with the human world.”

“Are you having trouble when you go alone to the repair shops?” Miss Matilda looked worried. She might be angry at me for messing up my schedule, but it was good to see that she was also protective of me. Of course, I was pretty much priceless, and Miss Matilda did hate to see money being wasted or lost.

“No ma'am. It is more of an issue interacting with visitors to the palace. I simply want to do my best work.” Which was true. I wasn't deceiving her. I did want to do my best. I wanted to do my best to have sex with Quinn.

Miss Matilda was quiet as I finished up drying the dishes and cleaning out the sink. She didn't move as I put away the rest of the dishes and wiped down the counters.

“Paisley told me she wants to take you into the city again tonight. I don't know if it's such a great idea. The only places open late at night are human-only establishments. You're pretending to be human, aren't you?”

This was not a good development. If Miss Matilda told me to stay home I would have to. Miss Matilda had the power to keep me where she wanted. I had to give the right answer here, or my routine would go back to the way it was before soft pants and orgasms. I…felt sad. I didn't use the human terms very often, but as my vision units began to blur with what I was shocked to discover were tears, I had no other word to describe it.

Miss Matilda gasped. “Coral. Are you…crying?”

“I believe so, Miss Matilda. It is not a pleasant experience.”

Miss Matilda said something about doing some research, and that is was perfectly fine for me to go out with Paisley. She also said I might want to give Quinn some space.

It was the first time I had no intention of following Miss Matilda's orders.