My thanks to Ephesus14 for his help with a final read-through and edit.
“And, so,” Herb Maston said in closing out his speech, introducing the new automated home personal assistant product line, “in honor of, and in memory of, the loss of one of Maston Enterprises’ most dedicated employees, Ms. MacKenzie Willis, we release our newest product to the public.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you...” here, Herb paused as the screen above and behind him began to show the marketing video that had just begun airing on YouTube two hours earlier...
People, mostly employees, but also some investors, clapped politely, but with barely concealed excitement at the release of the new product line. Small conversations broke out all over the room, as people spoke about the expected Christmas bonuses (now referred to politely as “Holiday Bonuses” so as not to piss off the woman from Seattle who was in charge of marketing).
These bonuses were an incentive to be happy in the workplace to most of the workforce at Maston Enterprises. But, for eight people, the bonuses were larger than usual. For six of the eight, they were “going-away” checks; for the other two, they were incentives to keep their mouths shut about the “train” that the very oversexed late MacKenzie Willis had been pulling with the six guys in the R&D testing area. It was during a particularly strong orgasm she was receiving from the fourth guy in line, that she fell and hit her head on a metal task chair, killing her instantly – but leaving a satisfied smile on her face, even in death.
The two men trusted by Herb Maston to minimize the spread of the real story about the lurid circumstances surrounding MacKenzie Willis’ death suspected that, when the EMTs had rolled her body out, having pronounced her dead at the scene, she probably still had the sperm residue of at least four of her six fuck-buddy co-workers in her pussy and stomach.
After the removal of the body and the conclusion of the police investigation, they had cleaned up the lab, getting rid of the metal task chair on which MacKenzie had hit her head by sending it to the local recycle center. Unforeseen by any of them was the fact that the recycled metal task chair was eventually melted down, and returned in the form of a shipment of metal ingots used by the manufacturer of the outer shells for electronics devices; the very company who subcontracted to Maston Enterprises for the cases for the new personal assistant named for the woman who had been killed in that very chair.
The voice-over guy on the video being projected on the giant screen at the back of the stage sounded as if he were doing a trailer for an action movie. But this was simply a compilation video depicting multiple scenes of the small device about the size of a bedside clock radio (the two devices shown in the video included one that was stainless steel, with a black mesh combination microphone and speaker surface, and the other with a high-definition touch screen display about six inches on the diagonal).
The experienced voice in the video evoked the feeling of drama, energy, and excitement as the video showed some of the more exciting features of Kenzie.
“DAD! Aunt Casey gave us a Kenzie!”
My daughter, Amanda, 14, was jumping up and down after unwrapping the present from my sister-in-law. My son, Ben, 12, smiled broadly, but he did not join in with the antics of his sister ... being cool; ya know?
“Thanks, Sis,” my wife, Loni, chimed in, showing both a bit of surprise and concern at Casey’s gift to our family. “But, don’t you think that it’s a bit pricey?”
“Nah,” said Casey, with a grin, “The Black Friday sale price was too good to pass up, and I was even able to get six remote wireless pickups to hang around the house, so that they connect to the central unit, picking up your voice from one end of the house to the other, both upstairs and down. And it also has Wi-Fi, so that it can connect to your home router. Hell, it can even stream Hulu, Netflix, and Amazon Prime videos to your big-ass smart flatscreen TV in the family room if you want!
“What do you think, Lowell?” asked my sister-in-law with a grin.
I just smiled and nodded as I read the insert flyer that I had picked up when Amanda had begun slinging all the packing materials for Kenzie around in her excitement. I had to admit, upon seeing the list of its capabilities, that this thing could really be a nice comfort and convenience item for the Brady household.
It had capabilities for individual voice recognition; translation from, and into, other languages; automatic music tuning, television control, and microwave oven control when those types of devices were connected to the “internet of things”; tracking of the state of all connected devices in the home; control of all those devices from a single mobile-friendly interface (such as commands from the Kenzie app on a Smartphone); allowance for the setting of rules on controlling devices, such as lights, electric shades, heating and air conditioning, garage door, electronic locking for doors and windows, fire and CO2 monitoring, and activating or deactivating the security alarm system...
And it even dials and answers the house phone for the few of us who still had them, using voice command ... along with literally hundreds of other tasks. I could almost get overcome by all that it purported to do for us. It seemed to do everything except wipe your ass and uncork the wine.
One week later...
“Let’s give her a try,” said Ben, after we had spent most of the week connecting and adjusting Kenzie. We felt like we were all getting to know ‘her’ intimately. “Kenzie, order family pizzas from D’Agostino’s.”
We had been holding our collective breath, figuratively, if not actually, waiting to see if this system would work.
“As you wish, Ben,” came back the very feminine-sounding electronic response from the Kenzie system.
We all let out audible breaths and smiled all around ... now, we only had to wait for the delivery guy ... or gal.
We were not disappointed. The pizzas came within the hour, and Loni had the drinks poured and the table set even before the kids had the pizza boxes opened.
“Wow!” Loni commented. “Kenzie actually put in the correct order for everyone; she even remembered that I don’t like black olives!”
My daughter, Amanda, and I shared a silent smile at my wife’s use of the pronoun “she” instead of “it” in reference to Kenzie, as Loni had a tendency to do during the setup in the days before our trial run.
“Yes,” I commented, “she is truly amazing!”
I glanced at the Kenzie kitchen hub and saw the green LED indicator flash a little brighter green than before for just an instant, but I figured that it was simply a system check going on ... or something.
Two weeks later...
Loni and I turned onto our block and we could see that the command that I had given to my cell phone over the car’s Bluetooth connection had been transmitted via my phone to the home Kenzie receiver. The garage door was, indeed, rising at my request before we even reached our driveway. And, thanks to that, I was able to drive right inside; stopping as the windshield nudged against the tennis ball marker on a cord dangling from the garage ceiling.
“I’m really starting to love this technology,” I said with a grin as my wife and I walked into the house via the garage access door as the garage door came down on its own.
Loni, who had had two more glasses of wine than usual at dinner, snorted and said, “Just don’t forget, Lowell ... this Kenzie thing is only a gadget; she can’t fuck you like your wife can.”
Stretching her arms around my neck, Loni pulled me down near her face. Before kissing me deeply, she said, “And I am so-o-o ready to fuck you.”
The passion in her kiss was almost overwhelming in its intensity. As I returned her kiss and allowed our tongues to duel, I felt Loni’s hand on my crotch, stroking my hard cock through my pants as I squeezed the cheeks of her firm ass.
“Then let’s get to bed and get to it,” I said with excitement dancing in my eyes as I saw Loni’s lustful eyes look back.
“Whatever you say, Lover!” And then she planted another hot kiss on my lips, crushing them in her intensity.
When I came up for air, I noticed a brief flicker of red in my peripheral vision; but, when I turned and looked at the Kenzie monitor, it was green, as usual.
I swept Loni off her feet and, with my arms under her upper back and legs, carried her down the hall to the master bedroom, where we stripped and fucked frantically – twice – before falling into exhausted sleep.
Three weeks later...
“With all this Christmas and New Year’s stuff behind us, we can now finally get back to our regular schedule, Lover,” Loni said softly into her cell phone.
“You mean, like our ‘play schedule’?” asked the man on the other end of her call teasingly.
“Yes, Marcus,” she answered, with a shiver that her lover could not see.
But Marcus could have anticipated such a shiver from Loni’s luscious body – after all, he knew her body’s quirks very intimately; maybe even better than her husband ... the dumb fuck!
“Soon?” he asked her.
“Whenever you say, Lover!” Loni assured him with a smile, ending the call and turning back toward the den, and her family, as she slipped her phone into the pocket of the loose sweatpants that she was wearing. The Kenzie system may be keeping the house warm enough now to suit everyone, but it was still late January in Chesterfield, Missouri.
“Kenzie,” Loni said, speaking slightly louder than conversational level, “Raise the temperature two degrees in the kitchen and den, please.”
Loni heard the reply from the speaker in the bedroom’s overhead light fixture reply in a voice that was “almost human,” and with remarkably realistic but almost bored-sounding feminine voice inflection.
“As you wish, Loni.”
As Loni later passed the threshold between the kitchen and the den, she could feel the warm breeze flow from the floor vent as the heating system kicked in, and she smiled at the convenience that this Kenzie system had brought into her house.
What Loni did not see was the brief shift of the small green LED bulb in the remote ceiling fixture device that indicated smooth operating of the Kenzie system as it flickered red for two seconds before returning to a steady green.
Four weeks later...
I just cannot understand it!
I mean, things had been off-kilter in the busy days leading up to the holidays, but we should be over all that busy-ness now. I mean, first we were sort of like strangers leading up to the holidays; then, it was as if we were honeymooners.
Now, it is back to being almost strangers once again.
Why is Loni giving me the chill attitude when I want to fool around a little at bedtime?
And, when she does agree, for the last few weeks, it is as if I am making love to a mannequin! I mean, she is just not INTO it at all!
Man, I just can’t help but believe that we just seem to be drifting along as roommates, rather than thriving as a loving couple.
I can NOT handle this hot-cold-hot-cold business much longer. I know that she will resist the suggestion, but I may just bring up the counselling angle again, if things do not get better soon.
“Kenzie, play Toby Keith ... uh ... random select,” I said, probably louder than necessary.
The soft, warm feminine response was an immediate, “As you wish Lowell!”
If I did not know better, I would almost have described the voice inflection as ... well... ‘caring’?...
I quickly heard the short drum downbeat indicating the start of “It’s a Little Too Late” by Toby Keith begin to play.
“Kenzie, down a notch, please,” I said.
“As you wish, Lowell!” came the response, and the volume dropped a bit.
I had turned to look at the tabletop pick-up unit for Kenzie and, for a moment, I could swear that I saw the green system LED flare in intensity ... nah, either my imagination, or maybe a power spike...
Five weeks later...
“I am telling you ... that ... that ... THING is not working correctly!” shouted Loni to me even before I could get my coat hung up after coming in the house following a hard day at work.
This had been a recurring complaint from my wife for about two weeks now. She would regale me with horror stories about how she would be showering and the water would go icy cold, despite the guarantee of continual hot water from our natural-gas-powered Rinnai in-line water heater with the digital temperature control. Or, the pizza slice she was heating for an evening snack before bed would still be cold, even after having Kenzie defrost it and heat it in the networked microwave.
Add to that list the arrival of things from Amazon and other on-line sources that she claims that she did not order; and claiming that the Kenzie voice recognition must not be picking up her requests correctly. How else could she have received an unexpected package and be embarrassed when Amanda watched her mother unwrap a two-foot-long double-ended dildo, accompanied by two DVDs clearly packaged to indicate the contents dealt with interracial cuckold porn?
Fourteen-year-old Amanda had blushed, covered her mouth to hold in the snicker, and turned away as Loni had hurriedly closed the box, planning to return the items for a refund as quickly ... and discreetly ... as possible.
“I tell you, Lowell, it is almost as if that THING has it in for me,” Loni’s tirade continued.