Chapter Text
< Congratulations - you are now the owner of an exclusive new ScarabTech SSC Unit! We're confident you'll enjoy our product and its many features. This interactive user manual will guide you through the setup process… >
The box was delivered with white-glove service - as expected, for something worth more than most condos in her building. The outer packaging was unexpectedly discreet, bearing only the ScarabTech logo. Rhea hardly sees the point in that. There are few other things an eight-foot ScarabTech box could hold.
A massive charging pod now stands like a sleek dark column against one wall of her suite, its branded design all stylish black glass and glints of gold edging. Despite the scale of her high-ceilinged greatroom, the pod seems to loom over her furniture. Its curved surface tints and skews the reflection of the floor-to-ceiling view overlooking Nuevos Angeles, throwing back the glittering lights and neon streaks in exaggerated arcs as the sun dips below the skyline.
Across the pod’s frosted door, glass etching reads: Security. Service. Comfort. Smaller text continues, Model: Anubis 3.X.
And behind said door...
Rhea flattens her palm against the curved glass. Inside, she can just make out the shape of what vaguely looks like a man. A very large man.
< A base frame height of 6'9” is standard to all ScarabTech SSC models. Extra interior frame space is required for security features such as built-in weaponry and armor… >
Even at this size, she muses, there must be some impressive geometry going on in there. She's seen the standard armored security units, the non-humanoid ones, in full response - two of them in the news feeds just last week when the cartel ran a flyby shooting in the warehouse district - seen the tucked-in weapons unfold, like a colony of glinting black beetles bursting into flight. It seems quite the design feat, to fit all that into a humanoid frame.
And, of course, this isn't just a security unit.
A flicker of irrational apprehension crawls up through her belly. She gives her dress a smoothing pat down, fussing at the neckline. Nothing demanded she dress up for this. Really, it's just… unboxing a new piece of tech. Yet, somehow, it feels like an occasion. Single-purpose security or service units are a common sight around the city, but the combined SSC model is ScarabTech’s new flagship release. The default-spec demo unit at the company's headquarters was striking to behold… and now, this custom one is hers. She didn’t even have to sell any organs to afford it.
But in this world, she knows, a gift is never free.
It didn't take much convincing to accept the ScarabTech advertising contract, with this unit offered as the main perk. The cartel has been stepping up activity lately, bombings and drone attacks on the rise, along with a few high-profile kidnappings. Even besides that… she has her own particular security concerns as well. The deal was so favorable, she gave no objection to the implications of why she was ScarabTech's choice of brand rep… or what would be expected of her.
< In addition to its Security features, your SSC unit has all the capabilities of standard Service units, plus our popular Comfort models - complete with ScarabTech's exclusive new Adaptive Personality™ AI. Both male and female units come with multiple sizes of lifelike Plug-and-Play anatomical options, both penetrable and penetrative configurations included. Ready to level up? Visit our online catalog for advanced sizing and custom designs… >
So, yes, she can connect the dots. Yes, her media credits are often… gratuitous. Choices like that are unavoidable, in a cutthroat-competitive industry thirsty for sex, and it’s been a struggle to make any other name for herself. Now, those choices follow her everywhere - sometimes a little too closely or stalkerishly for comfort. She needs a security unit.
She doesn't exactly need a “Comfort” unit… but her image, at least, is well-suited to advertise one. Theoretically.
It's not like it's anything new for me, career-wise.
Her hand has stalled over the door catch. The fluttering nerves in her belly can go stuff themselves. She's not meeting a person. It's not even going to look human, she reminds herself - not entirely, at least. Thank goodness for those regulations.
The only question is, how soon will ScarabTech expect her to… familiarize herself with those so-called “Comfort” features?
Hesitantly, she presses the catch, and the frosted glass door slides open with a smooth hiss of air.
Uh. Hellofuck.
She is now face-to-chest with an utterly magnificent prow, sculpted and full. The sheer breadth of the unit's frame nearly fills her vision with synth-skin the color of sunlit bronze. There is a subtle sheen to that skin; inhumanly smooth, it catches the neon-streaked evening light in a way that highlights every contour.
And there are… many contours. She stands there dumbly for a moment, entranced by the detail of the anatomy up close. Matte black shipping straps - still taut around the unit's biceps, thighs, and throat - emphasize the thickness of those luxurious muscles even further. She'd opted for one of the burlier build choices, thinking she might as well lean into the intimidation factor for such an obtrusive bodyguard; but the scale hadn't quite sunk in from the holo turnaround - not as applied to the height and breadth of an SSC unit's baseframe. In person, the effect is almost uncomfortably lush.
< Your unit's exterior features ScarabTech's signature lifelike Synth-Skin™ in your chosen shade, layered over the custom physique configuration selected at registration. ScarabTech Synth-Skin™ is water resistant up to 3 meters, but prolonged immersion in water is not recommended. Like all Comfort models, SSC units are self-cleaning - the included charging pod is equipped with UV disinfectant lamps and bio-dissolution spray… >
She finds herself chewing on her lower lip as she steps back, looking the figure up and down. Mostly up. Yes, this should intimidate even the grabbiest fans into keeping their distance. It might even give her grabby producer second thoughts.
…Intimidation. Yes. No other reasons to choose a build like this. Ignore that apprehensive little gut twist.
To her relief, there is indeed no mistaking the unit for human, regardless of how chewable those muscles look. The skin is split with visible seams - deep angular grooves that accent the lines of its anatomy all up and down its frame, glinting with subtle gold edging. The seams cut curved arches along sculpted cheekbones, along its temples, past the corners of its closed eyes; one line even runs straight down the middle of its face. And no one could miss the signature ScarabTech eartennae. The stylized gold-edged spires of its jackal-like “ears” rise straight up from the sides of its head, bringing the unit's total height well over seven feet, and pinning back the voluminous black coils of thick woven “hair”.
There is also no ignoring that it's gorgeous. That is no surprise: she'd customized the facial features herself. Contractual obligations aside, she might as well do what she can to make said contract enjoyable. She can't deny at least being a little intrigued, if apprehensive, about exploring such an attractive… piece of technology.
The effect is somewhat different, though, when those features are more than a foot above her head; since the unit is posed looking straight ahead, she has to step back a little further to get a good look. The angled eyes are gently closed, and it wears a neutral expression, as if in peaceful sleep. Its straight nose and full lips are bisected by the midline seam of its face - she finds herself wondering what would happen if she pressed a finger to its lips; would the seam split under pressure, or would the plush-looking skin yield as one? It would hold, surely - kissing would be strange otherwise. Is the tongue split as well? It must have a tongue, right?
… And now she's thinking about a sexbot's tongue. Well. That's… probably the point.
< A Comfort Unit is capable of any intimate act you can imagine, and much more. Looking for extra novelty? Exotic new skills and techniques are added every month - purchase the subscription package to receive updates as they release, or download skill packs from the online catalog. Currently on special for this month, try the Tantric Massage skill pack… >
She can imagine plenty. Another coil of apprehension twists through her gut. It's just a robot, she reminds herself. I'm in control. It can't hurt me, or… force anything. If something goes wrong, I can just… turn it off. Like a toy.
Indeed, the powered-off unit before her is completely unresponsive. A single golden light along the lower edge of one ear pulses slowly on and off, indicating standby. She moves forward, cautious, reaching up a hand to wave in front of its face - snaps her fingers a few times - not a twitch. Some of that tension in her belly eases, ever so slightly… just enough to venture a cautious prod at that magnificent chest.
It feels almost exactly like real flesh, springy and supple… but strangely cold. The coolness takes her by surprise. She's never touched a ScarabTech comfort unit; are they all this cold? Or is it just powered off? She prods again, watching the face for signs of movement, but nothing happens. She dares to press an open palm to the broad pectoral, just over where the heart would be in a human. Nothing - no pulse, no heat, no movement. She might as well be petting a mannequin.
It's not the same as an unconscious human. Right now, this really is just an empty shell.
Emboldened, Rhea slides her palm down the sculpted abdomen, playing her fingers along the grooved seams. Its waist fits nicely between her hands, exaggeratedly narrow in proportion to the cartoonishly broad shoulders. Wrapped around its hips is the sole article of clothing - a close-fitting black skirt with a longer draped panel, vaguely resembling a batik or shendyt. She's a bit relieved it didn't arrive naked. There is… definitely a shape there; but the draped fabric is modest enough to disguise the dimensions of the default attachment.
She pauses, standing there with her thumbs resting in the V-line of muscle between the unit's hipbones, and, just for a second, she does consider looking. She considers it for… several seconds. And then a few more, just to be sure.
No. She's inspected enough; that would feel just a bit too invasive. Any equipment can always be swapped out later, if necessary… once the unit is conscious.
I'm not being weird, she assures herself. I wouldn't lift the skirts of a random statue either. I have class.
Her tablet pings from the chaise nearby.
With some reluctance, she lets her hands fall from the sculpted waist, and retreats to inspect the notification instead. The unit has reached full charge, and its app is connected - ready to activate. Willing her insides to settle, she takes a deep inhale and taps the screen.
Power on.