I'm a Cyborg's Pet (girl X cyborg)

Chapter 38/Him/Breakfast at his feet

A/N. Picture Nothing to do with the story really we just LOLed when we saw them.

Video: The music Jenny plays (see text below). Also some nice pictures of more 3D Printed dresses and stuff.

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21 Seconds into the future Washington 2.1/Rockwood hall/Room 404/his bed

Jenny POV

I swung out of bed and noticed that two cool looking e-slaves like me emerged from a slave door hidden in the wall.

'#DEC master's personal e-slave she handles everything. The other girl is #6502 she's the head of room slaves. She handles everything to do with the room <zing>'. Explained my collar.

"Good morning master. Was your pet's attentions satisfactory? Are there any non-amateur attentions Master may care to avail himself of?" said #6502 to a cyborg who shall remain nameless. I looked at her 'hay he just thingyed me' I thought, I think he's ok right. Clearly, my expression wasn't working. 

As a slave and part-time plaything, I had to sit and watch while he eats, while I was hungry. I've had sucky boyfriends before and this would not normally rate a second visit.     I was told I could lick the bowl dry if I liked.  This Intern/Pet position kept getting better and better. I wish I could leave really bad review on trip advisor about hit.

"Make sure she wears the Military High heels," Rockwood said to #6502.

#6502 showed me to a dressing machine. It was hidden in the wall. It was larger and less industrial than the slave dressing machines. Once away #6502 was free to talk.

"Mistress Lady Zola's had this dressing station installed. Master keeps it for any of his overnight visitors. He told me to let you use it, but he really shouldn't, so I don't want to find any hairs in it afterwards. A printer this nice isn't meant for slaves. If Lady Zola finds out he's letting you use it she will peel her own skin off with a rusty potato peeler. Then she will do something worse with yours. He told me to let you use her proper makeup printer too. I said we had a portable one you could use, but he insisted you had one of the best printer's they make. I've changed the printer ink cassette to a slave one." #6502 said.

By slave makeup ink cassette,  I think she meant one where all the tasteful pale neutral natural skin shades removed gleefully by Pat McGrath and Lady Gaga.

She saw the ripped clothing near my neck and the circular marks on my back.

"I have some cream. Don't worry he doesn't do that more than once on his pets" that she said looking at it.  Her Jealous? No. 

'What is it what did he do to me?' I asked but got no answer.

Beyond the cream, she nor #DEC wouldn't admit that it existed. Nor was #6502 willing to come up with any explanation for what he had done. I managed to see the mark that was left on the back of my spin in the mirror. It was round with marks like an exotic clock. I felt Rockwood had taken something, something I didn't know I had. It felt draining. I notice the slaves wouldn't tell me what he had done.

I climbed in the clothes printer and it felt less like I was being run through an industrial car wash. This felt more like a trip to the spa compressed into two minutes. I emerged dressed in a dress which ended an embarrassingly short mini skirt. I wore long stockings like lady Vilaria had worn yesterday. Except these ended in nearly transparent silicon tights. I was checked with a portable scanner to make sure I had enough flesh covered up (92% including face) for legal robot definition of being 'clothed'. Fantastic all the control of wearing a burka with all the embarrassment of visiting a friend in a nudist colony for the first time. These machines really did know how to treat women or indeed anything with hair.