The Girls Warehouse - Part 2

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The bots stirred, then scrambled to stand at attention.  One, who was a bit too slow, held her head as the implanted chip instantly punished her tardiness with a sensation of sharp pain.  The others breathed easier, they knew they had avoided this dreaded neuro feedback.  Obedience was never rewarded - in fact, nothing was ever rewarded.  But disobedience was relentlessly, immediately, and impartially punished by this device that interfaced with their nervous system.

Meanwhile the businessman had made up his mind.

"The Number Twelve, please," he said firmly.
"NUMBER TWELVE REPORT TO THE OFFICE!" belted a robotic voice over the loudspeakers.  Number Twelve walked from its corner on the far side of the room to the office door, where the scientist greeted it.
"Meet a prospective buyer!  Stand on that table and be ready for my commands," he said firmly but gently.

As #12 went through its programmed positions, the businessman breathed heavily.  "Yes," he finally said.  "This one.  That's the one.  Enlarge the breasts.  Give her the pink bob."  He now made eye contact with the beautiful bot for the first time, as he said, "and cut out its tongue!"

Tears welled up in the eyes of #12.  The businessman was overcome with a sense of power - he had done that.  He had hurt her in such a profound way, just because he could.  Oh, what rush this feeling of dominance sent through his veins!  There will be many more ways I'll hurt you, he thought, as he smiled a thin, mean smile.

Number Twelve was horrified.  This man was going to have her tongue removed!  Of course she knew she'd end up sold into life-long bondage, but she had always hoped that it would be to a kind, caring, humane master.

Sudden defiance made her jump from the presentation table and bolt for the door.

"Hold her!" cried the businessman. "She's getting away!"

As the businessman pursued the mobile merchandise, the scientist just smiled and stayed at his desk.

"Silly man, she is chipped!" he said as he giggled softly.

It all happened very quickly now.  #12 crumpled into a pile of agony, just as she tore the door open.  The chip sent her into a fetal position, shaking with pain, sobbing.

"That was a brief sense of freedom, wasn't it?" chuckled the scientist.  Then he let loose a maniacal laugh that chilled the spine of the businessman.  He was not supposed to feel empathy.  He had been certain, mere seconds ago, that he would revel in gratuitous, unbearable cruelty to this thing.

And now all he could think was, "the poor girl, I will keep her safe in my home!"

Red lights flashed in the warehouse.  Within seconds, two of the drone guards had taken position, guns pointed at #12.  The other bots stood stock-stiff, frozen in dread.

"Leave the tongue," said the businessman, to the frowning scientist.

"I do not recommend you show weakness," the scientist scolded.  "But it is yours to decide.  We can always take it out later, when you change your mind."

"And ship her right away!"  Then he turned to leave.

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