I waited patiently for the stewardess to fix my drink. I watched her hands delicately work a pair of tongs to pull at cubes from the ice-chest resting on the airline beverage cart. She then poured vodka and tonic over the ice cubes and swirled the drink in her hands. I knew it was a perfectly measured 50/50 ratio.
She handed me the drink, leaning over the beverage cart, her perky breasts straining against the thin latex of her shiny, cerulean blue uniform. The AirGlobal flight attendant attire consisted of a one-piece dress that zipped down the middle and porcelain white stiletto heels. The slightly stretchy fabric tightly hugged her skin, showcasing her athletic frame and well-endowed bosom and posterior.
She smiled politely, and with an almost unnoticeable pause, continued, "Sir, how will you be paying today?"
"Card." I replied, nervously spinning the rectangular piece of plastic between my fingers.
"Okay." She smiled again. Her face was brilliant, high cheekbones, large hazel eyes, creamy peach-white skin, long dark eyelashes, glossy pink lips, and a cute upturned nose. A small blue stewardess' hat gingerly guided her strawberry-brunette hair behind her ears and into a pony tail. She wore hardly any makeup, only having a hint of blue eyeshadow to match her outfit and a few touches of eyeliner to make her already vibrant eyes pop even more.
I knew she was too good to be true. I knew she was the product of a struggling robotics company who had put all of their efforts into faithfully creating synthetic companions designed to functionally mimic young, fertile human women. She was named Tessa, and she was the reason I was on this flight.
A September 22nd flight on AirGlobal was where I made my initial discovery. I was flying on the bargain airliner from Zagreb, Croatia to Aarhus, Denmark after leaving my hardware engineering position of the last five years. I had checked my phone inside one of my bags, excited to use the time on the flight to gather my thoughts and let my mind wander.
While on the flight, I quickly became enamored with the flight attendant serving myself and the other first-class passengers around me. She was efficient, friendly, energetic, bubbly, and most of all stunningly gorgeous. I swore her super-model face and runway body looked vaguely familiar, but I chalked it up to nerves and the several tequila-pineapples she had been feeding me throughout the flight. There was something unique about her, something that I couldn't quite put my finger on.
I watched her intently, making drinks, serving food, and chatting with other passengers. She moved around the cabin with measured grace and seemed completely un-phased by the few patches of mild turbulence we had encountered so far. Little did I know that a complex subsystem of gyroscopes, oscillation dampeners, and shock absorbers embedded within her toned thighs was working harmoniously to keep her balanced and functioning through the small bouts of turbulence.
I was completely taken away by her, going so far as to begin imagining a life with her where we would run away from reality together.
About an hour out from Aarhus, the cute stewardess, whose name I had learned to be Tessa, was in the back compartment of the small first class upper-deck, fixing a kettle of hot water. In my seat, nearest the back compartment, I could easily turn my head and watch the contours of her backside as she went along preparing various items throughout the flight. I couldn't remove my eyes from the roundness of her taught ass. Her glossy, smooth thighs were visible extending out the bottom of her excruciatingly tight, shiny latex number.
The kettle steamed. I watched her gently pick it up and turn around to place it on the mobile beverage cart. As she did so, the plane rattled and dropped violently. I was heaved upwards, my seat belt the only thing that kept me from careening into the ceiling of the plane. This pattern repeated itself several more times as the passengers erupted into fearful screams and shouts.
I looked back to Tessa to see if she was alright and found her anything but. She was lying on the floor of the plane face-up and un-moving. The kettle of boiling water had spilled over and was pouring off of the beverage cart and onto her stomach. Steam was almost exploding off of her as the super-heated water evaporated away.
I unbuckled and took a step towards her. I felt the telling signs of an oncoming patch of turbulence shake through the plane. I braced myself against the compartment frame as the plane again lurched violently down. I watched Tessa's inert body fly up in the air and slam back into the floor as the plane evened itself out. She hit the floor with dull metal THUMP that didn't sound quite right.
I came to Tessa's aide at the base of the cart. It was immediately apparent to me that something was wrong with her. Her eyes were stuck open, unblinking and lifeless. A strong acrid stench of burnt plastic filled my nostrils. I pulled the compartment's privacy curtain closed, so nobody else would see her like this; I feared the worst.
I looked down to her perfect narrow waist where the kettle had spilled. I was shocked. The boiling water had melted through the semi-elastic cerulean latex of her uniform to the skin below. Only, it wasn't skin that was visible below, it was some kind of plastic dermal layering that had also been melted through by the steaming water. I stared confusedly into the half-dollar sized hole just to the right of her navel that exposed a mess of frayed circuitry and wiring. The flight attendant who I had fallen so deeply for was some kind of robot!
I couldn't believe it. She seemed so real. She talked to me like a real person, never once giving me any indication of her true nature. I looked directly into her exposed abdomen again, this time noticing an assortment of blinking LEDs. Most were green or yellow, although a few blinked red feverishly. Little wisps of smoke emanated from her stomach cavity; several wires and input/output buses had obviously shorted out.
The curious part of me had my hands wander all over her body. It wasn't that I was aroused by the moment, well maybe slightly, but just legitimately curious about her construction and physical makeup. She was convincingly warm and soft, just like a real woman.
I let my hands move to her breasts where I partially unzipped the front of her uniform. Kneading them in my hands I noted how incredibly realistic they felt. Soft yet firm; supple and malleable in my hands. Through her outfit I could feel the small plastic caps of her artificial nipples. Now I was growing aroused.
I reached around and grabbed a handful of her exquisitely toned ass cheeks. They were soft, round, and buoyant; once again they felt just like the real thing.
I brushed my fingers through her hair. It was silky smooth and it felt very calming to run my hands through again and again.
Finally my attention turned to her sex. I slipped my fingers under the hem of her dress and, gently brushing against her inner thighs, moved my fingers up to her crotch. Her thighs were ultra smooth. Where they met I found the familiar folds of the female vagina. My fingers familiarized themselves with the robotic flight attendant's synthetic labia, clitoris, and vulva. There was no hint of dampness to her, so I licked mu fingers, allowing them to glide along quite easily. I probed in and along her yielding folds falling in love with her and her design more every minute.
I removed my hand from beneath her jumpsuit just as a loud BEEP emitted from somewhere deep within her plastic chassis. I slid backwards as she sat up, bending rigidly forward at the waist.
Her eyes lit up a brilliant electric blue and she stared directly forward, seemingly unaware or uncaring of my presence. Her breasts hung buoyant and supple, their roundness and fullness still at full display underneath the skin-tight stewardess outfit.
She began speaking, her voice seemed slightly tinny and perhaps had a bit of digital noise around the edges. Otherwise it was calm and serene.
"Avant Robotics Model No. T3SS4_M84U-122 emergency reboot sequence complete.
Previously loaded functional subroutines have been suspended. Self-Diagnostic functional subroutine is now operating.
Internal damage detected in abdominal processing cores APC_08 and APC_09.
All pertinent data-streams will be re-routed through APC-Auxiliary-Processing-Bus_01.
APC-Auxiliary-Processing-Bus_01 BOOTING...
APC-Auxiliary-Processing-Bus_01 BOOTING...
APC-Auxiliary-Processing-Bus_01 RUNNING...
Data streams APC-DS_22, APC-DS_23, and APC-DS_24 successfully migrated.
Abdominal processing cores APC_08 and APC_09 now offline.
Error report generated.
Diagnostic and repair session scheduled for 9-22-2048 at 2030 in AirGlobal Repair Bay 11."
Her head inhumanly pivoted and twisted mechanically for several moments as the ocular sensors embedded within her dreamy hazel eyes scanned every inch of her exterior.
She looked down into her exposed internals through the melted hole of her smooth plastic-elastomer synth-skin.
"Cosmetic damage detected in abdominal wall nodal mesh points J52 through L58.
Error report generated.
Diagnostic and repair session scheduled for 9-22-2048 at 2300 in AirGlobal Repair Bay 1.
Self-Patch Protocol AW-#112 LOADING...
Self-Patch Protocol AW-#112 LOADING...
Self-Patch Protocol AW-#112 RUNNING..."
Tessa rose to her feet, still oblivious of my presence in the corner of the compartment. Perhaps she couldn't notice me while in this self-diagnostic mode.
