I was a nanomechanic, and a very good one at that, though the company I worked for was still new to the industry. I certainly could have gotten a better paying job at a larger company, but here I got perks that made it well worth it to me. The pay wasn't as high as their competitors, but they gave me free access and reign to their lab, and I spent a good amount of time alone on my own products there. The company knew me to be a genius in my field, and so they cut me a generous amount of slack in this area, especially since I had already provided them with several generous toe-holds in the industry. They also provided me with excellent stock options in lieu of a high salary, so by the time the following events came to ground, I owned several whole percentages of the company.
As such, I had enough money to put down a sizable amount of my savings on a two bedroom house close enough to work that I could bike, cutting further down on my expenses. Nonetheless, I advertised for a renter, and soon enough, one came knocking on my door.
When she arrived, I saw a girl with so much potential to be a woman. She dressed in thick, over-sized, and clearly borrowed clothing and wore no makeup, though I could tell she would look stunning in something more form-fitting.
When she moved in, I provided her with one simple rule besides the basics set in her lease: You are not to use or borrow anything of mine without my explicit permission, or guidance and supervision.
She laughed it off despite my attempt to justify it, and she passed it off as immature, but the rule covered broader ground than she knew, and soon enough, she would find out how far I intended on taking it.
Although it was a nice house, it only had one bathroom, which left us to share. As I left my toiletries out, sparse though they were, I allowed here to do the same, provided they never became overly cluttered, or crowded mine own out of room. So we shared it, and on the occasion our schedules collided, I nearly collided with her in the hallway, herself dripping and wrapped in nothing more than a towel. There more than ever, I saw the potential for her to be beautiful, but never remarked on it.
One day while showering, I bumped against one of her bottles and sent several of them dominoing into the tub. As I bent to retrieve and return them to their shelf, I noticed how light they all were. My suspicions growing in my head, I checked the rest of them, and they were all empty. Smiling to myself, I knew she had violated my rule and discovered I could experience more than the flashes in the hall of her body.
#
I came home from work one day with a broader smile than usual, as well as a bad of new goodies in my hands, all in anticipation of the morrow. She was still working herself, a long double-shift, and was expected to be back late and exhausted—very likely to seek out a shower. I arranged everything before making a small dinner for myself and retiring to bed.
She arrived and did as expected, as I heard her bustling around the house from my room. Seeing that my door was closed and I was likely asleep, she stripped off her clothing in her bedroom, and not bothering to draw a towel around herself, carried it over here arm into the bathroom. All this I watched on a microcam borrowed from one of my colleagues.
Not long after the water turned on (no camera in there) one of my other devices beeped. It was a movement sensor, one of several on my body-care products. This one in particular was for my shampoo. I smiled to myself, well hardened from the view of her walking down the hall already, and imagining her soaping up her hair. Soon after that, my conditioner's sensor beeped, and I stripped in anticipation of the third sensor, going so far as to enter the bathroom and use the toilet while I waited.
