PROGRAMMED COMPETITION
I. Melody: Disco Risque's
Melody confidently strode past the eager throng of men and women queued up outside Disco Risque's bright neon signage. The nightclub, an extravagantly renovated multi-storied theater, had become a staple of Palm City's nightlife scene only a few years prior.
She relished the attention as dozens of heads turned her way, a throng of gazes fixing themselves on her backside, as she made her way up to the bouncer planted outside the entrance.
He was built like a tank with an intimidating scowl to match, but his expression melted into one of adoration as he saw Melody approach. She flashed him a brilliant smile, the thousands of delicate servo actuators embedded just behind her faceplate working harmoniously to pull off the facial expression preset. He gave her a knowing wink and opened up the rope for her to slip inside. She wriggled her plastic curves right on by, making sure the bouncer got a dynamite view of her tight silver dress pulled tight over her shapely derriere.
A few patrons in the front of the line began to protest but were quickly silenced as the bouncer turned their direction and flipped back to his well-practiced scowl.
Melody stifled a moan the instant she walked through the ornate double doored entrance. Bass frequencies from the dance floor resonated through her hybrid alloy chassis, triggering small but measurable tactile responses from the sensory arrays woven into the intersection of her long, slender thighs.
Tossing her shoulder length brunette locks to one side, she rounded a corner and spotted the source of the sound, an exorbitant tower of amplifiers, speakers, tweeters, and subwoofers all neatly stacked on top of each other. The 'Tower of Sound', as the club's regulars referred to it, reached all the way from the floor to the cavernous vaulted ceiling above. Each of the club's four stories circled around the tower, its roar of pulsing house music a constant buzzing drone everywhere you went.
After a quick scan of the dancing crowd, Melody spotted her friends smiling and waving from up against the railing of the third floor. Recognizing her three fellow La Femme Parfaite companion units, Melody's bright green eyes flashed for a microsecond as she linked her Communications Suite to the group's networked data-feed.
"Get up here Melody! Cynthia snuck in some electro-chews. We know how you much you like them you kinky little Modèle VII!"
Melody stopped abruptly, her buoyant C-cup breasts bouncing up and down behind her form-fitting sequin dress. She pivoted exactly 122.7 degrees to her left, facing the stairs, before continuing forward, "Oooh, now you're speaking my language. I'll be right up!"
The strobing club lights danced across the svelte contours of her silver dress as she worked her way through the crowd and up the stairs. She identified several men, who's eyes were glued to her modelesque curves, and logged them in her memory cache as high-percentage targets for later that evening. She made sure each step she took lingered for a fraction of a second too long, giving them ample time to see her toned calves in action.
Rounding the corner onto the second set of cement stairs, Melody nearly collided with a buxom blonde whose generous ass was provocatively sticking out into the walking lane.
Her systems immediately identified the culprit, Joi, your typical loose-circuited, plastic-faced, sloppily-programmed Automation Playground (AP) bimbo-bot. Melody swore Joi must be here every night with the regularity of which she ran into her.
Her main CPU was annoyed. Ugh. I swear these AP fuck toys are programmed with no decency!
She adjusted her pathfinding algorithm to maneuver around Joi but stopped short as her Behavioral Software Suite spontaneously formulated a creative response to her provocative positioning.
Melody raised her hand and gave the well-endowed AP bot a hard slap on the rear. She noted to herself that the feel and jiggle of Joi's plastic ass was much more realistic than she had anticipated.
Joi turned instantly, smiling seductively, her eyes half-lidded, "That felt SO good!" She shifted her hips, further displaying her well-engineered assets, "Like what you se..."
Her head cocked to the side abruptly and her face transitioned to a look of puzzlement as her systems finally processed who had just smacked her enticing derriere.
She scanned Melody up and down, jerkily spinning around to face her head on. "Way to get a bot's hopes up..." Her eyelashes fluttered several times, "...Melody. "
Melody turned away, somewhat embarrassingly detecting a slight temperature variation in the folds of her artificial pussy, and continued up to her friends, "I don't have time for you tonight, Joi."
--
Melody's friends greeted her with an exchange of hugs and kisses on the cheek. Serena, a tall and slender red-headed Modèle VI, handed her an electro-chew and pointed to Melody's feet.
"Those pumps are just stunning darling! Three inch heels? Tell me where you got them?"
Taking the electro-chew, shaped like a traditional stick of chewing gum, Melody smiled and popped it in her mouth, "Yep! Three inch heels are market-tested to look best on my Modèle VII chassis, and I got them at Luca's. I told you about the manager there, right?"
Her nipples stiffened through her dress as the electro-chew activated in her mouth, sending small electrical pulses shooting through her wires, making her sexware tingle.
"Wow! That feels nice..."
She instinctively tugged at the hem of her dress, "...Well, let's just say I gave him a proper sampling of my systems for a STEEP discount."
Charlene, a sturdier sepia-toned toned Modèle V, playfully punched her in the shoulder, "You Modèle VII's have all the fun! I haven't had a good romp outside of the club in over a week!"
Melody quipped back with a laugh, "That's because of that third party vibration module you self-installed in your snatch last month, Charlene! Every guy that you take for a ride runs the risk of being shocked; I'd be scared to go back for seconds too!"
Charlene jokingly pushed her crotch up against Melody and activated the module. Melody's nipples stiffened even further as she registered the feeling of Charlene's vibrating mons on the exposed synth-skin of her thigh.
"Oh they love it! They always cum so fast too! Admit it, that feels pretty nice, doesn't it-it-it..."
A sharp blue arc of electricity jumped from Charlene to Melody with a harsh SNAP.
"Ah-Ah-Ah! Charlene-ene-ene, you need to get that thing checked out!" Melody yelled out as she jumped backwards into the railing. A brief system check confirmed everything was in order, no issues detected from the unexpected jolt of energy. Although, she did notice her plastic sex was growing increasingly hot. She bit down on her bottom lip and slyly pressed her panty-covered clit against one of the narrow banisters.
"...it-it-it-it-it-it-it..." Charlene blinked erratically, her crotch buzzing noisily, as she found herself stuck repeating the same word over and over again.
Cynthia, a petite raven-haired Modèle VI with a short pixie cut, stepped forward and grabbed Charlene by the shoulder. "Come on girl, let's take you to one of the side rooms and get you restarted."
Melody and Serena watched their two friends disappear into the crowd before moving their attention to the dance floor below. The bass was pumping, hundreds of people and bots alike gyrating together in a mass of sweat and energy around the tower of sound.
