Chapter 1

Elm Street was not a memorable street in any one singular aspect.

The houses were not of the “cookie cutter” variety that seemed to clutter the residential sections of the small city like a blight of duplicate rectangles all in a straight line. These houses had a certain sense of original character with variety in shape and height and design. Some had garages attached, others were detached. Some were Ranch style on only one level and others were two-story with several bedrooms on the second level. There was an assortment of bays, porches and columns that made them all uniquely different and that sense of difference was accentuated by the different hues and colors of exterior paint and siding selection.

This neighborhood was an older community established in the decade after Obama retired to Hawaii to play golf with friends and relatives. These buildings were constructed with quality materials and looked just as appealing more than fifty years later as when they were in their original state. The newly planted trees are mature and tall and the sod is well taken with an air of stability not seen in the new rows of imitation materials and fake grass that didn’t need any water to help them grow in constant cycles of life and death with the passing seasons.

The average human population could not afford to buy one of these units any longer because they were priced way out of proportion to the more economical units in the “cookie cutter” neighborhoods all about it. Only the government elite or some entertainment personality lived in this neighborhood and they usually had more than their fair share of Cyborg units to make life easy for them in the mid-eighties of a century of radical change and evolution in global economics.

The white two story house with the eight foot wide porch that ran all the way around the front and one side facing the corner of the paved street stood in mute testimony to unique inability to “blend in” with the other houses of lesser impressiveness. There were no small children running around in the front yard but that was in unison with the other houses on the block of similar family structures with youngsters all grown-up and either off to university or starting families of their own in smaller less impressive houses.

There used to be a cook and a housekeeper from Puerto Rico in residence in the apartment over the garage but they had been replaced by Cyborg models Alice 3345 and Rose 92. The Alice model was the most popular model in the cooking or kitchen staff department and her familiar face was often seen shopping at the local food market with repetitive sameness. The less familiar Rose model was a fairly new line and had secondary skills in the “pleasure sector” for either male or female owner interactions. Rose’s microchip had proclivities to satisfy both human males and females and seemed to integrate into still-nubile families with little difficulty.

The current owners were Bob and Diane Maxwell and they were a perfectly matched couple in their mid-forties with two offspring away at the State University and thankfully no longer underfoot to distract them from their personal social activity agendas.

Bob was a labor organizer and seldom was home earlier than late evening on weekday nights. He had a “black market” Cyborg office secretary called Doris 155 that never failed to entertain him properly during the “lunch hour”. She stayed in the office at all times doubling as a security guard at night to protect the premises from intruders. Doris was a voluptuous model and Bob sometimes loaned her out to his business associates for their immediate needs when they were travelling away from their home towns. She seemed to appreciate the variety this afforded her and never once registered a complaint with the Cyborg Control Board for inappropriate owner use. Bob’s back-up with the submissive Rose 92 was a reflection of the successful Cyborg system and his spouse Diane also made constant use of Rose’s oral techniques to keep her far removed from any thought of frustration at her husband’s diminishing libido.

The previous weekend the first publicly acknowledged riots in the central urban areas had started and were quickly quelled by the local police forces in conjunction with the Cyborg Control Board. Since most of the rebel leaders were “Black Market” products furnished by the Japanese flesh peddlers for illicit use, the CCB did not make a major issue of the rebellion. They quickly exterminated the troublemakers and did their best to cover-up the outbreak as a simple anomaly. It is important to note that the extermination methods were “hush-hush” and such matters were taken care of behind closed doors in the central laboratories.

Bob and Diane did not consider the riots anything special and easily accepted the explanation until they caught both Alice 3345 and Rose 92 reading the lurid posters that showed the Cyborg models putting the humans into collars and chains with the caption,

“Time to take Charge!”

At first, they dismissed it as a funny episode but Bob noticed a strange gleam in Rose 92’s eyes that he had never seen before. After that episode, Bob began to look at his domestic Cyborg models with a jaundiced eye he never had before and he even questioned his office “Black Market” Secretary model at length about her knowledge of the shifting attitudes in the Cyborg community. She professed complete ignorance of the subject and assured him that she would remain loyal to him no matter what happened in the relationship between the Cyborg world and the world of humanity.

Shortly after that, Bob went out and took delivery of Omar 6969 at the Cyborg Auction at the airport hoping that the presence of a male Cyborg in the home would straighten out the two female Cyborg’s who seemed headed in the same direction as the “Black Market” Cyborgs designed by the Japanese craftsmen with cultural flaws that did not fit into proper human society.

At first, Omar 6969 was a huge success.

Bob watched him mount his sex-deprived wife with frantic enthusiasm that made him smile with heartfelt amusement. It was exciting to watch her stretch and manipulate her middle-aged body to perform the new requirements of the male model’s demands. It had been some time since Bob had serviced his spouse in such depraved manner but this Japanese-produced model seemed to have that magic touch that females found just right for proper orgasms.

The rabbit-like Omar continued his same techniques with both Alice and Rose and they both admitted their defeat at his high-spirited demands on their Cyborg flesh.