Exo Saves the Day, Chapter 3

[gynoneko]

If you missed the first chapter... click here.
The second chapter is here.
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Exo Saves the Day
Chapter Three: Perchance to Dream
By Gynoneko


It wasn’t until we got to the apartment that I realized she was not going to wake up. Perhaps she lost too much of her coolant-blood. Perhaps she was exhausted and her body needed to do repairs. Luckily for me, my apartment was on the first floor of the building, so I didn’t have to go up or down any stairs carrying an unconscious half-naked girl in front of everyone’s doors. I wasn’t sure what would be harder to explain, the girl, or the exoskeleton suit I still wore. First, I decided to grab my bag and the few things in the back seat, and take them inside. This let me prop open the door, and prepare to carry her in. I went back to the passenger side, and lifted her up. She seemed to lean right into me as I lifted her out of the car, and closed the door with my foot. I locked the car with the key fob, which was still in my hand, and brought her inside.

My place isn’t that big. I was lucky enough to be able to afford a 2 bedroom apartment, but the second bedroom is dedicated to my work. I mostly repair and customize robots, and right now I had a very large project in that room, so it was taken up by several broken android and gynoid parts. I decided to place the broken girl on the couch. My couch is long and soft, black leather with reclining seats at the ends. She took up just over half the couch as I laid her on it. Her breathing was still heavy and slow, I was glad she was not overheating yet, but I didn’t know what was going on inside her until I got the chance to take a look. But for now, she was dead tired, dirty, and probably repairing herself. While nano-bots can repair small damage to a gynoid, it is not possible to fix everything. Skin can be mended, muscles can be repaired, but connecting optical wires and repairing a voice box were not possible. Those would need to be done by a technician. However, I decided it would be best to let her rest, and let her self-maintenance run while she was sleeping before I poked around. Besides, from looking at her body, I could not see any joints or access ports, so I had no idea how to get into her mechanics without a verbal command. However, I could clean her up a bit.

Taking off my exoskeleton, and placing in on a chair, I went into my kitchen, grabbed a cleaning cloth from under the sink, and filled a bowl with warm soapy water. While most androids and gynoids cannot swim, sponge baths are usually fine. I started with her face. Dried tears and some blood stained her pretty face, and she looked badly bruised and beaten. Carefully, I used the warm moist cloth to wipe away the filth. She cleaned up pretty well; her blood made her look worse than she was, although there were a few minor cuts and one big bruise on the left side of her jaw. I couldn’t tell if her jaw was broken, but it was the same impact that broke her voice box, so I would be able to take a closer look when I could dive in for more repairs later. Her face was very pretty despite her injuries. She had a round face, with big gorgeous eyes, and a small, slightly up-turned nose. She had some faint freckles across her checks, which could be easily overlooked or covered with makeup, but it made her look young and extremely cute. I carefully washed some of the blood out of her hair, but decided she’d need to do the rest herself later.

Peculiarly, I noticed one other thing about her face. Her face was slightly asymmetrical. Most androids and gynoids I have run into either have very mechanical faces, template faces, or perfectly symmetrical faces. I guess it’s just cheaper to build the same thing on both sides, mirrored. Completely symmetrical faces often throw people off, looking a little out of place. Sometimes a collector or enthusiast will customize a face, giving their gynoid a unique look, but this is a time consuming and expensive process. Most people just use a template face, with a few select customized changes. However, this face was a completely unique face. I noticed several minute differences here and there; one nostril was slight bigger than the other, her ears were just slightly off center from each other. These subtle little touches, which the untrained eye would easily overlook, were easy to make out for someone who has seen so many of these faces day in and day out. Her face was perfect to a point where it was imperfect, in just the right way, giving her a beautiful and natural appearance.

I was careful not to get her cuts too wet, especially the large gash on the side of her neck. Carefully, I pulled the wound apart a little to get a better look at the damage. It didn’t look too severe, but some cables and muscles had been pulled and torn, and would need repair. I slide the few cables sticking out of her neck back inside, and washed around the wound. The bleeding had stopped; good old nano-bots. However, it left her body covered in her red-orange blood. My coat still clung loosely around her body, covering any damage she may have taken in the attack.

I took a deep breath. I am only doing this to clean her up, she needs my help. I am not going to look at her body; I am not going to get aroused. I tried to convince myself that what I was doing was the noble thing to do, and needed to be done. Getting an erection over this was pointless. Surely my body would listen to reason, right? I slowly pulled open the coat wrapped around her, to reveal her full body to me.

She was a mess. I didn’t expect her to look so bad, but I couldn’t see her well in that dim yellow light in the alley, and she was covered up in my car. She had several large cuts and bruises; dirt, and blood covered her body. I decided to get started, working my way up her arms, and then down from her neck. I needed to pull her arms out of the sleeves of my coat, so I could clean her off properly. That coat was going to need to be cleaned after all this. Pulling her body up and close to me, I managed to get her arms out of the coat, and let her rest on top of it. Her hands were dirty, but delicate. She had tiny hands, with dainty fingers and soft skin. I cleaned off all the grime and blood, and worked my way up her arms. She had several cuts along her arms where they had kicked her when she was trying to cover her head. One large gash exposed a small bunch of optical wire, which had been kicked loose and dangled out of the wound. I carefully tucked the wire back inside. I would have to get my tools out and take a closer look before I could repair such damage, but that would have to wait. Luckily, she was not bleeding there anymore either, but I found that her arms and torso were covered in so much blood, that I needed to go back for fresh water several times.

My favorite part of the female anatomy is actually the neck and shoulders. There is something about a dainty and petite girl with her shoulders and neck bare that just drives me crazy. Despite the large gash on her neck, the rest of her shoulder and chest was mainly unharmed. She had taken some bad cuts to her breasts though, and one of them was still bleeding a bit. I carefully cleaned off her shoulders, revealing her white and pale skin hiding underneath the filth that covered her. She was very petite, with a small frame, and well built. She had idealistic proportions, and her body was shaped perfectly. She had an almost athletic look to her, but she was soft and curvy. Having uncovered more of the blood off of her, I noticed she had more freckles on her shoulders, which I thought was very endearing, and aroused me despite my best efforts to resist.

I cleaned off her breasts with great care and dedication. Perhaps I am a pig, but seeing her bare breasts rise and fall with her every breath drove me wild. I controlled myself as best as I could; at least I didn’t start groping her. I did greatly enjoy cleaning her breasts thoroughly though, and I had to make sure I didn’t miss anything. Her skin was incredibly soft; it was as though I had never touched a woman before. Her breasts were shapely, perfectly rounded, and ended in perky pink nipples. Not all gynoids have nipples, although nipples are a popular feature, usually in a permanently aroused state. But even among those that have nipples, hers were above and beyond the rest. There was no seam or interruption to her flawless breasts, and her nipples were in a relaxed, natural state, neither fully aroused nor soft. I watched as her breasts jiggled and shook when I washed them, much to my enjoyment.

“I’m such a Pig” I thought to myself. The cuts left behind on her breasts were wide, probably from when they kicked her. I was glad to see that most the wounds were starting to close; there seemed to be no serious damage. I carefully washed the bleeding cut and placed a towel over it to help stop the bleeding. I would need to get my med kit out for the gauze to make sure it got enough pressure. I wasn’t even sure it would work. Does a wound on synthetic skin need pressure to heal? Well it couldn’t hurt, and would at least keep the blood in place as her systems fixed themselves.

I was fascinated by her chest, but I needed to move on and clean the rest of her as well. I started cleaning her stomach. She had a nice flat stomach, with a cute “inny” bellybutton. I don’t know if the bellybutton on a gynoid did anything, besides serve as an actual button sometimes, but I am pretty sure it is mostly for show. Several large bruises were forming on the left side of her abdomen, but there were no cuts. I would need to open her up at some point to make sure there was no internal damage. Access panels are very common in gynoids and androids, and they allow a technician to do exactly that, gain easy access to the robot’s internal components for repair or modification. These panels can be anything from doors with hinges to discreet panels that slide out of the way. However, one thing you find on all androids and gynoids, are the tell-tale signs of these access panels, the outlines of each panel, formed by the edge where the door meets the rest of the body. For many robots, these are easy to spot, obvious. Some gynoids have more discreet panels, allowing the skin to conceal the edges, making the markings of the panels more subtle. However, they’re always still there; pull the skin in the right places enough and the seam is easy to see. There were no signs of any panels on this gynoid, nothing to indicate there were any access panels at all. Surely there must be something somewhere, but I could not see even the faintest line.

Working my way down, I got to her hips and (*ahem*) crotch. Several cuts and scrapes riddled her hips and legs, but besides that she was not hurt there much. Her pubic hair was well trimmed, with only a cute triangle of hair on the mons pubis. I suppose she was built to have only a small patch of hair there, the rest of her was virtually hairless. Looking back up at her face, I confirmed she was still fast asleep and not about to wake up. I had to restrain myself, but I couldn’t resist taking a closer look. The last thing I wanted to do was get on the bad side of this robot, or its master. Sure, she indicated she had no master, but robots can make errors, especially after such a beating.

Carefully, I spread her legs apart slightly, bent at the knees, so I could get a better look. As I took a closer look at her womanhood, I was startled to see something I was not expecting. Instead of seeing her labia and vaginal port, I saw what I through to be a shield. A small metal band, reaching from her clitoris to her anus, concealed her entire sexual zone. It was yellow and black, thin, and seemed to be somehow imbedded into her. It was shaped to perfectly conceal her private area without showing when she stood normally. It was smooth and hard, and blocked almost any stimulation anyone would try to give her. Small slanted slits allowed air and possibly liquid waste to flow freely through it on one end of the strip, but they were too thin to see through. It covered her anus as well, which must mean that either she cannot eat, or she was designed to eat only after the strip was removed. Words stretched across the middle of metal strip, right over the area where her vaginal port was. They were rather hard to read, but I managed to move in closer for a better look. It read:

FBI Warning: tag to be removed ONLY by unit Master.
Customer must be 18 years old to register.

It was like one of those furniture labels and a movie rating in one. She was still factory sealed down there, untouched, and untainted. I tried to see if I could move the tag at all, but it seemed to be embedded into her skin, and most likely attached to her skeletal frame; it wasn’t moving anywhere. Most gynoids have something akin to a fleshlight (one of those fake vaginas for masturbating), often with a vibrating function, installed in place of their vagina, if they had a vaginal port at all. This, however, seemed to be a custom made, unique vaginal port. I had no way of seeing what she really looked like there, but I could tell it was more advanced than any gynoid vaginal port I had ever seen. She really is a work of art!

I decided to leave off here; I didn’t want to go any farther than that; I seriously didn’t want to upset her. However, I can only assume that with this tag still in place, she has never had a master. For some reason, this metallic strip actually turned me on. My dick was already erect, but I had to calm him down. She was sleeping, and injured, and needed my help, not my perverted side. She just had to be a gynoid, didn’t she? Did I mention I am one of those people who get aroused at technology? I’m a Technophile, so-to-speak. Maybe I don’t go humping cell phones or computers, but they do peak my interest. Gynoids excite me the most. I always dreamed of having my own gynoid, customizing her, and maintaining her. She would be my maid, my lover, my companion. Now that there was a gynoid in my house, however, my dreams didn’t seem as realized as I thought they would. She was in real need of my help, and I had to give it. My hard on would just have to wait for the shower.

I put her legs back together, and started cleaning them too. Her feet were filthy, but I did get most of her cleaned up. I couldn’t help but notice how soft and curvy her legs were. Her feet were dainty, just like her hands, and looked very natural. I decided that I wouldn’t be able to easily wash her back, but I would try to get some of it. After getting another clean bowl of soapy water, I gently pulled her body into a sitting position. I struggled to keep her sitting upright, since her body had a tendency to lie back down again. With a lot of effort, I managed to wipe off most of the blood and dirt off her back. But the coat she was lying in was still coated in the dry stuff, and would probably just get her dirty again. I did notice some more small cuts on her back, exposing her inner mechanics a bit. Plastic and metallic alloys shone through parts of her body where she had been cut up. Dried orange-red blood smeared the wounds. I did my best to clean her up, and let her lay back down in peace again.

Going into my bathroom, I pulled out a roll of gauze from the medicine cabinet. I’m sure she didn’t need anything sterile, but it was all I had. I sat down beside her on the edge of the couch, and lifted her right arm. She didn’t react at all, but stayed perfectly asleep. I carefully wrapped her biggest cuts in the gauze, and then did the same to her other arm. Carefully, I lifted up her torso, and wrapped some gauze around her neck wound, and under her right arm, across her body. I had just enough gauze left to wrap it around her still bleeding breast, but first, I put a gauze pad over the wound. I carefully wrapped the remainder of the gauze around her breasts, tight enough to hold the dressing in place, but not too tight to obstruct her breathing. Boy Scouts paid off, sort of.

Gently, I laid her back down on the couch, putting a small pillow under her head. I put a blanket over her, and let her sleep while I threw a small dinner in the microwave. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. She was a stranger in my house, but I liked her being there. I wanted to help her, and was sure I could, but I wanted more than just that. I wanted to be with her. Strange, I know, I only just met the girl, and I know nothing about her. And on top of that, she is a gynoid, a toy, a tool. I am a technician, and a human. It is only natural I would want to fix her up, but I couldn’t be with her. Could I? I shudder to think about what the law would say. Gay marriage look long enough to be accepted in this country, I doubt robot marriage would be as welcome. Sometimes my mind jumps to conclusions like that… marriage to a gynoid. I didn’t even know if she was going to keep breathing through the night, let alone wake up. And love was a completely different matter altogether. I suppose I was infatuated with her, intrigued. I pushed these irrational thoughts aside, and summed the entire episode in my head up to loneliness. It was simple, I was lonely, and I hadn’t been with a woman in years.

I pondered these things and many more as I ate my dinner. It was a short dinner, and I ate it while I worked on my exoskeleton some more. Something had overheated, causing it to smoke in the alley. I was lucky that it happened after I was already finished with the big guy, but next time it could be me laying in the that alley. I found a few possible culprits to the problem, but the solution would require a reworked cooling system. I would need to hit the store and pick up some parts before I could go any farther, so it would have to wait till tomorrow. I placed my suit in my office, which is covered wall-to-wall with robot parts and computers. I had a big job come in last week, and it was going to take a while to fix up all these broken parts. Build a better robot, and they’ll build a better idiot to break it.

I headed out of the office and closed the door behind me. The office is actually right next to the living room, at the start of a short hallway. At one end of the hall was a door to the guest bathroom, while at the other was the door to the tiny laundry room. I was lucky to even have my own washing machine; most people used a public Laundromat. At the end of that hallway is my bedroom, complete with its own bathroom. It was a pretty nice bathroom, a big tub, a large mirror, a toilet; all the luxuries of life. The living room was separated from the front door by a short foyer, which had its own wall, just enough to make moving my couch in here a real hassle. The living room itself was small. A large screen hung on one wall, the couch on the opposite with stacks of movies and games in book shelves around it. I had a computer sitting on a table against another wall as well; I used this one for playing games and blogging. Always keep work and play separate, that’s the only way to get things done. A small table in a tiny dining “room” sat next to the computer, and the kitchen extended from it. One thing I can’t stand is a small kitchen; too bad for me cause I got stuck with one.

I decided to log online and take my mind off of things for a bit in an MMO. I didn’t want to talk in the regular forums and chat rooms about the events of this evening, not yet at least; it was too big, too significant, and too dangerous. My mind continued to race through thoughts about what happened, despite my efforts to distract it with digital violence. She had to have gotten to that alley somehow. And without any clothes, she couldn’t have gone far without someone else noticing. She must have been lost, ran off, or been put there by someone. I didn’t know who, or why, or anything, but perhaps a little time killing orcs and ogres would take my mind off of it. I kept her in my sight as I smashed hordes of evil monsters. Maybe the game wasn’t enough of a distraction. I kept getting gorged by nasty digital minions. After my third resurrection, I decided I was not in the right mind set to really get into the game. I logged off, and put the computer to sleep.

I decided not to go to bed that night. She was too important to leave alone, and if she woke up in a strange place, who knows what she’d do. Instead, I took a quick shower (no need for a cold shower, my mind was racing too much), put on some pajamas (for a change), and grabbed a pillow and blanket from the bed. I slept at the other end of the couch in the reclining seat, just at her head. I considered laying her head on my lap, but I thought better of that, and let her rest in peace. It was a difficult night, plagued with odd dreams. I awoke a few times, once to find she changed position in her sleep, turning to her side. It was going to be a long night.


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/Chapter Three

Chapter 4