Anna walked through the lobby of the Shining Venus Spa and Boutique with her head held high. Like the half a dozen or so women already sitting there, she was convinced that she was not only the spa's most important customer, but its corporate owner's most perfect creation as well. She was beautiful, no doubt, but maybe not the prettiest one in the room. That was especially true for someone who preferred blondes to Anna's brunette ponytail. The breasts were spectacular, though.
"Excuse me, I have an appointment. The name is Weber." Even if the girl wasn't sitting in a low chair, Anna would have been talking down to her.
"Ah yes, Mrs. Weber, if you'll please take a seat and fill out this form, the specialist will see you shortly."
Anna eyed the little slip of paper before turning to the girl at the desk. "I'm not sure if you know who I am, but I don't fill out these little checklists, and I don't have time to wait." Anna calibrated her face to stay neutral, rather than add something more intimidating. Anna wanted to be magnanimous, even when dealing with morons.
The girl, Sally, suppressed the urge to scream at the hundredth woman of the day to pull this act. "I'm sorry Mrs. Weber, but there are other people ahead of you, and the form is something that helps us expedite the repair process."
"Just use the last form I filled out."
"Sorry, new insurance rules." Sally uttered an internal 'fuck you, Congress'.
Anna wasn't happy, but caught on that she wasn't going to get what she felt she deserved and retreated to the lobby chairs. The other women were glancing unapprovingly at her and her little display at the desk, but Anna ignored that too. She found herself a chair with a buffer seat on either side. She glanced at the form, signed underneath the legal consent paragraphs, and checked the boxes for "dermal refresh', "no changes", 'off-site data backup', and 'no error messages'. Once that was done and turned back in to Sally, she opened her visual display to shop for new shoes and podiatric servos.
12 minutes and three pairs of heels later, Sally was back to escort Anna to the repair bay. Soft music played in the hallway and covered up any unpleasant sounds that might be coming from the room. Sally opened door 15B And placed Anna's file in a holder by the door and attached the work order to a clip on the door itself.
"Mrs. Weber, if you could please strip down, a technician will be with you shortly."
Anna kicked off her shoes and retorted, "shortly shortly, or 12 minutes, 27 seconds shortly?"
Sally couldn't keep a small groan from slipping out before replying "the former" and shutting the door behind her. Sally vowed once again to never be such a mecha-bitch when she finally got her own robot body.
Anna grumbled at the twerp at the desk and made a mental note to complain to her superior about the service. Since it was a doctor's visit, and she had expected to get naked, Anna had worn one of her older outfits. Actually, it was part of the clothes shopping spree she had gone on when she dropped from a biological size 8 to a mechanical size 4. And even if it was a Lagerfeld, looked good, and (of course) still fit perfectly, she hardly wore it.
The room had a small closet with hangers and Anna took some down to hang up her clothes before nudging her shoes inside and shucking the wispy underwear she had been wearing. She closed the door and took a peek in the mirror.
When Anna was a teenager, the only people that had a body like this were... ok, no one had a body like this. After an hour in photoshop, there were people who looked like this; Blemishless, firm and taut in all the right places. But all she could see were the small points of damage along her body and the slightly uneven fading of her skin. She never could tan before, and now she couldn't fade properly either. She felt thankful she had the means to come here every three weeks, rather than every other month like most other androids, according to the factory recommendation.
She considered leaving one of her eyes on the table to record the technician, but the young woman entered before Anna could fiddle with the release. The woman pushed a cart with several canisters beneath and tubes leading to a tray on top.
"Good morning, Mrs. Weber. How are you today?" The woman stretched a smile across her face and pointed it toward Anna before going for her latex gloves.
"Fine enough, although the service here gets worse every time I come in." Anna hopped up onto the table and laid down on her stomach, eyes closed. She knew the drill.
Four in a row
. Tracy thought. There had to be a better way to accumulate the means to get into an android body. Eight years working here, and 17 more to go before she earned the big price break. Working off the cost as a fuckbot sounded better every day.
Tracy opened the tap for the base chemical of the dermal bonding solution and looked up the code for Mrs. Weber's skin color. "It's April, would you like to go for a little more color in time for bikini weather?"
"I could go out in a bikini in the middle of January if I wanted to. No changes, just go by what's on the form, that's why you made me fill the damn thing out, right?"
Anna was face down with her eyes closed, so the angry face and mouthed-but-silent curse words (the c-word featured prominently) from Tracy were safely hidden. She turned the taps on two of the three color tanks and typed in the skin tone code on the electronic mixing system the tubes fed into. There was a familiar dull hum and a thin goop poured from the spigot into the pan with the base chemical. The solution began thickening as soon as the chemicals made contact. Tracy took a plastic stick and mixed the ingredients together.
Tens of millions of dollars in hardware, and she was mixing stuff together with a two dollar disposable stick. But it was the best way to do it. In 30 minutes the stuff would be a disturbing chunk of synthetic flesh. For now, it was still a gooey mess. She lifted up the stick and confirmed that the consistency was about right. Tracy checked her goggles again before putting on a painter's mask and wheeling the cart and the pan closer to Mrs. Weber. The stuff emitted no fumes and rarely splashed, but more than one technician had gotten seriously messed up by letting that stuff get in their eyes or mouth without removing it before it set.
"OK, Mrs. Weber, here we go." Anna had already shut off her tactile sensors, but just about every technician acted as though the android would jump after feeling the first warm dollop. Tracy opened up a new 'baster', dipped in the tip, filled it, and squirted the goop up and down Mrs. Weber's back and rear end. She set down the applicator and began massaging in the solution. At a scale Tracy couldn't see, the goo was filling in all the minute cracks and cuts that had appeared on Mrs. Weber's body over the past three weeks. As good as the fake skin was, it couldn't heal itself like real skin. And the process refreshed the color of the existing flesh, which tended to bleach when the sun was too bright.
Tracy used the stick again to scrape off some excess and get enough extra goop to finish off Mrs. Weber's hips. The areas would stay shiny for a few minutes before drying. Next Tracy moved to the arms, moving them enough so that she could get all the way around as she rubbed in the goop. Although she had to be quick about it, Tracy idly tried to remember the technical name for the stuff. Pentasilicate quadraoxalide? Protosaline Quintalate? Eh, she never was good at chemistry. She used the last bit of excess to make sure the back of the subject's neck was done.
Tracy gave the pan of goo another dozen sitrs before speaking. "Alright Mrs. Weber, if you could turn over for me, please, we'll do the front." Anna, who had been keeping her arms off the table, stuck them above her head and wiggled herself through a roll. Tracy came back with another full tube of goop and poured it across Anna's breasts and down to her bikini line. As she massaged in more repair goo, Tracy thought about the body she'd eventually buy. She thought Mrs. Weber's breasts were too big. She probably acceded to her husband's demands there. The nipples had gone erect from the treatment, and those were a little too big as well. Although the hips were nice. The ones Tracy had now were too narrow, in her opinion.
The front was done, and the excess scraped off when the technician got out her first specialized tool. It was essentially a balloon on a straw, or at least that's what the technicians thought of it as. Tracy dipped the balloon part in the tub and rolled it around until it had a nice thick coat. Then she held open Mrs. Weber's vagina with two fingers and stuck the balloon and half the straw inside. She switched to trying to keep the vaginal folds together as she blew into the straw and inflated the balloon. When it felt full, Tracy let out a little air, closed the tip, and spun the device around so the inside got a coating.
"Mrs. Weber? Could you release chemical four in your vagina now?" Of course, the inside of a vagina isn't the same as the palm of your hand, so something extra had to be added to prevent normal coalescence, but still repair the (usually) heavily used area. Tracy gave the device a few more spins before letting out the rest of the air, removing the straw, and throwing it in the trash.
With that done, Tracy made quick work of Mrs. Weber's legs, getting all the way around on the same go, just like with the arms. Tracy looked at the little clock on her cart to check how much time was left before the goo started to get unworkable. No, she was still good.
This time the excess got moved back into the pan and Tracy got out another set of tools. Tiny sponges on handles really, but they were necessary for doing the face. Tracy dipped in the big one and quickly applied goo to Mrs. Weber's cheeks, forehead and chin. The next size smaller handled the tiny android nose and oversized lips. Finally, Tracy had to lean in to do Mrs. Weber's eyes, ears, and the rest of the little nooks and crannies even an unnaturally smooth and clear face has.
