Part 4A: Bryce

"Oh, my God, Deanna! What happened?!"

I chuckled, leaning on the cane Anne-Marie McLeod had given me to help keep the weight off my sprained right ankle. I waved Karen Litzky into the apartment this lovely Sunday evening, and guided her to the living room. "It's called a 'training accident, ' Karen. I've been training in t'ae kwon-do for ten years and this is the first really bad accident I've ever had working in the tojang. Bryce!" I called.

"Coming!" the husky voice of my intimate companion-for-the-day echoed from the bedroom, followed by footfalls.

Karen grinned as Bryce Beemon walked into the room. "Hey, Bryce! How're things with you?!"

The 'bot replica of the Vee Beemers' guitarist and composer, having sat herself on the couch beside me, replied, "Swimmingly."

Karen stared at me. "Is she lying?"

"I am a robot," Bryce answered, putting a little squeak into her voice to simulate a very obnoxious robot character on the popular CBC late night comedy show Real Canadian Fun. "I am incapable of lying unless my owner commands me to do so."

I wrapped an arm around her, giving Bryce a tender kiss on her forehead. "She's showing signs of breaking free of some of the problems and fears that plagued her mother," I reported. "Given that Brenda's primary problem was drug abuse and Bryce can't be addicted to that..."

Karen smiled. "If only humans could be so lucky." She glanced at Bryce. "Has Reika taught you to strip-dance?"

"She has!" Bryce gushed, and then she rolled her eyes in my direction before putting her head onto my shoulder. "Matter of fact, I surprised Deanna here last week by giving her a private dance at the Retreat when she was expecting Reika to come see her."

"Weren't you upset?" Karen asked, turning back to me.

"No. I was so surprised by it that I nearly broke the Retreat's rules about no sex in the private booths and almost took Bryce right there," I admitted, giving Bryce's shoulders a warm squeeze with my arm. "And it's a good thing that she did come up with something like that. If she and the others develop their self-will enough, they could get into helping their mothers work on new songs. And from there..."

"The Beemers are back in business," Bryce finished before she let out a long breath.

Karen gazed concernedly at her. "Hey, sweetie, what's wrong? You know the best way to help support your mom and the others while they're recovering is to develop your music skills so that you can start helping your mothers make new records."

"I know, I know," Bryce admitted. "And I've already helped Mom with writing songs for a new album. But..." She paused, and then she blinked, her eyes tearing. "This was Mom's dream, Karen. And Kip's and Monica's. Chelsea, Lynda and I... ! Well..."

She shrugged. "You feel like you're stealing it from them," Karen finished for her.

"Yeah!" Bryce snapped, throwing up her hands in acknowledgement of Karen's conclusion. She then laughed for a second before staring at her mother's agent. "And do you really want to know the weirdest part of this whole mess, Karen? Do you really want to know?"

"What?"

"I have come to hate thrash music! If it's just because we need the money, I'd rather strip to get it!"

Silence.

More silence.

Still more silence.

"No. Way."

That was Karen, of course.

"Way," Bryce confirmed with a nod before she thumbed me. "Thanks very much to Rayve and our delightful owner here, I've been singing more classic rock and folk songs than anything written after the turn of the millennium! Can you believe that?!"

"Oh, Deanna! You're corrupting this girl!" Karen moaned.

"True, I am!" I asserted, grabbing Bryce in a bear hug. "And I'm not ashamed about it whatsoever! Do you want to know why?!"

"Why?!" Karen pleaded.

"Because this beautiful 'bot is mine, mine, mine!!" I asserted before rubbing my nose against the back of Bryce's neck.

Which was a foolish thing to do, unfortunately. "Deannaaaaaaaaa... !" Bryce gasped, her eyes going wide. "My pleasure buffer..."

I reached into my track top to draw out Bryce's remote, which I always kept nearby because Bryce and the other Vee Beemers 'bots were still very new to this existence and often required the type of help that can only be given through their remotes. "Bryce, adjust your pleasure buffer to maximum intensity until all extraneous sexual input now entering your personality matrix abates, then restore to nominal operation," I ordered while pressing her Command button.

Bryce froze for a moment, and then she relaxed, slumping against me. "Oh, thank you!!" she breathed out before staring at me. "Deanna, willya quit doing that to me?! You know I'm really sensitive there!" She tapped me very lightly on my breast with her fist, and then she leaned up to kiss my cheek to reassert her love and loyalty to me. "Wait until we're in bed tonight, alright?!" she hissed.

"Ne, Youbo," I replied in Korean. Yes, Dear.

Karen laughed. "Oh, your nights must be so interesting these days, Deanna!" She politely covered her mouth before she asked, "How do you do it? How on Earth do you handle seven fembots..." She then stopped herself with a raised hand. "Oh, excuse me! Four fembots and three bi-gendered robots, I mean!" She then lowered her hand, shaking her head in awed admiration. "I mean... ! HOW?!"

"Well, it's not always sex," I admitted, holding up a finger in emphasis. "Though I do confess that I cannot, for an instant, disregard the many physical health benefits of a very active sex life with seven 'bot lovers, especially when you don't have to worry about unwanted pregnancies, STDs, AIDS and whatever else is floating around out there!" I lowered my arm. "Since I've got seven girls now, I assign one night a week to each of them as my primary intimate lover. Bryce on Sundays, Lenn on Mondays, Chelsea on Tuesdays, Irene on Wednesdays, Lynda on Thursdays, Reika on Fridays and Rayven on Saturdays. The rest of them can do whatever they choose. Hopefully, that way, I can pay full attention to each of them without feeling that I'm cheating the others of their due time with me. Believe me, Karen, I hope to God that my situation never becomes anything like Fred Keller's," I breathed out.

Karen blinked confusedly. "Fred Keller... ?"

"He's the guy from Indianapolis everyone in 'bot circles has heard about. The one who was given five Japanese fembot lovers a while back, the ones who eventually forged a uni-mind they always say was such a bad thing at the end," Bryce supplied before I could answer.

"Oh, right!" Our guest nodded, though I was quick to suspect that Karen really didn't understand what Bryce had just told her. The Beemers' music agent didn't strike me as being very knowledgeable about robots. She then blinked as the door opened. "Who... ?"

"I'm home!" Chelsea cried out from the foyer, the panic in her voice telling me plenty. "Deaaaaaaaanna, I neeeeeeeed yoooooooou..."

"Get in here, Chel!" I called out, knowing that was faster than me limping my way to her.

Chelsea Hilary marched into the room, remote in her hand. "Pleeeeeeeease..." she begged as she handed it to me.

Seeing the desperate look on her face, I could only guess what the pre-schoolers at the daycare centre at Welland High School had done to her today. Quickly, I took Chelsea's remote and touched her Command button. "Chelsea, delete all commands given by anyone except me."

Chelsea froze for a second as the order washed through her mind, and then she breathed out. "Oh, thank you!!" she moaned, sinking into the couch to Bryce's right. "Christ on a friggin' stick! I swear, if I have to take another damned command from any of those kids... !" Her voice trailed off as she gazed apologetically at me. "Deanna, it's not that I hate them! I don't think I'm capable of hating any of them..."

"Chel, they all love you," I assured her. "That's what Rhonda tells me every chance she gets."

A faint smile crossed her lips on hearing that. "What's this about?" Karen asked.

"We all have jobs," Bryce replied.

That revelation took about ten seconds to fully sink in. "What?!"

"To help them earn their own money and get used to working on their own, I've arranged for them to get jobs in the last couple weeks," I retorted. "Even if they aren't technically freed 'bots, I, as their owner, can arrange to hire them out so they can earn some money for their personal use. After all, Reika, Irene and Lenn work. Why shouldn't all my other 'bots work?"

"Okay, but what sort of work can they do?" Karen asked.

I indicated Kip Hilary's replica. "Well, Chel here works at a pre-kindergarten daycare centre at Welland High School up the street."

"Where my meanie-meanie mistress actually allows those monsters to have their way with my remote!" Chelsea pouts.

"Chel, shush!" I cut her off. "Bryce works at the abused women's shelter in town as the groundskeeper."

"The women there want nothing to do with men, period! Even M-'bots!" Bryce emphasized. "They even get wary if they learn you're bi!"

Karen whistled. "That's incredible. What about Lynda and Rayven?"

"Lynda's a delivery girl for the Blue Star Restaurant, down on King Street near the Stelpipe works," I told her.

"The folks running that place want her to deliver in a bikini," Chelsea added. "Deanna won't allow it, but Lynda does it anyway!"

I stared at her. "What?!"

Karen laughed. "You should've kept your mouth shut, Chelsea!" Bryce muttered.

"What about Rayven?" Karen asked.

"Welland Clinic Pharmacy as counter staff," I told her. "Even before Mister Gamelan -- he's the owner -- could think to ask her, she hooked the place's security system up to her mind so that she can make sure no one makes off with the wares."

Karen took that in, and then she nodded approvingly. "Reaction to what Neil pulled on the girls, right?"

"Yes," we all answered before we turned as the door opened.

"I'm home!" Lynda Pascale called out, walking in with a delivery box in hand. "Got dinner, Deanna! Hey, Karen, when'd you come in?!"

"You're a delivery girl," Karen stated as Lynda set the box on the dining table before sitting to my left.

Lynda shrugged. "Yeah, I am. So what?"

I stared at Monica's replica. "What's this about you and a bikini?"

"Hey, I'll deliver nude if it gets me better tips!" Lynda retorted as she reached into her purse to pull out a small wad of bills to show me. "Besides I've never heard you complain about Reika or Irene showing more than this every night."

I stared at that before I sighed. Can't argue with success. "Same rules of contact as what happens at the Retreat, Lyn," I conceded.

Lynda winked at me. "Already keeping it in mind..."

"So what's this about your grand-aunt?"

I stared at Karen for a moment. "How'd you find out? Your people talk to Tom Fenris?"

We laughed as we stepped out of the elevator into the apartment lobby. "Well, much that deep down I suspect some people in New York City would gladly see you drawn, quartered and keelhauled for what you did to ensure the girls got prompt medical care in Toronto paid for by the company, all of us in the company can't thank you enough. Let word of bad treatment get out and the fans'll start boycotting everything we produce," Karen stated. "Atop that, you are taking care of four robots who we'd like to have work for us as soon as they're ready to be on their own. And given how good things are coming along with Brenda and Monica now that they're in Toronto -- to say nothing of what Professor Steinmann is willing to do for Kip -- the chances are looking good that the Beemers might be back in business within a year."

I nodded. "The professor's a good man. And, fortunately, Anne-Marie McLeod studied under him at Johns Hopkins, so there's the friendship factor to count on, too. Not to mention that he's Jewish and I know a half-dozen rabbis ready to nag him into saying 'yes.'"

"Your grand-aunt was Jewish, right?"

"Adopted; she was baptized Ukrainian Catholic," I replied. "From what I know now, Grant-Aunt Tasha was as much a rebel as Grandma Ivana."

"Why'd she marry a Jewish man, anyway?"

I shrugged. "Well, from what I learned from her diaries -- her grandson Jonah sent them to me a week ago -- she married him for the right reasons." I paused as Karen waited for me to finish the statement, and then I winked. "Grand-Uncle Mycah was very good in bed."

"Oh, that's always a very good reason to marry someone!" Karen asserted before we broke down and laughed. After recovering, we headed for the main doors. "So she was close to your grandmother, right? How did your grandmother's other relatives treat her?"

"Actually, I think it was payback for the fact that Grandma supported Grand-Aunt Tasha's marriage. And it got called in when I was born."

Karen nodded. "I get it. Everyone thought your grandma was crazy to not force your mom to put you through corrective surgery."

"Right," I drawled. "And, so I know now, Grand-Aunt Tasha saw that as a chance to pay them back for they're turning their backs on her when she got married. So she invested wisely and created a tidy nest egg she passed on to me, plus a cottage outside Penetanguishene."

"Pene-... ?! What?!"

"Penetanguishene," I repeated. "Short name is 'Penetang.' Small town in Simcoe County, hour and a half north of Toronto, on the shores of Georgian Bay. Used to be a British naval base long time ago. I remember visiting Grand-Aunt Tasha's cottage when I was a kid. Sits in this country lane beside this lake that I thought was actually part of Georgian Bay. Turns out it wasn't. Sure as heck disappointed me."

"Where did the name come from?" Karen asked.

"Probably some Anglicized or French version of some Haudenosee or Wyandot phrase..."

"Who?!"

"The Iroquois and the Huron," I amended; I was used to addressing members of the native tribes of southern Ontario by their proper names in lieu of the names the French forced on them. "Most place names in this country were created that way, unfortunately."

"So that's cottage country here in Ontario, right?"

"Yep. North part of Simcoe County, plus the whole of Muskoka; that's the district next door. Very beautiful up there. Want to come?"

"When are you going?"

"Couple of days," I reported. Thankfully, Master Lily understands my need to see to my family's problems, so I didn't have to worry about being called into the tojang while my ankle was still in a cast. I'd be out of training for a month. That didn't include the time I'd need to recondition myself. "Right now, Lenn's modifying an RV she bought so we can all go up there in one vehicle. Don't know what shape the place is in, so we're not taking any chances."

"Smart thinking. Maybe next time."

"Suit yourself."

I waved as she headed off to her car, and then hobbled back inside...

"Hey."

"Hey."

I gazed on Bryce as she waited for me in the bedroom. She had slipped off her normal track-top, T-shirt and jeans, putting on a beautiful opaque nightie that did nothing to hide the lovely body underneath. Lenn had gone pretty much out of her way to ensure that while Bryce would bear a very strong resemblance to her template, she would still be her own individual, unique in the eyes of those who care for her.

What a body it is.

The similarities are many. Bryce and Brenda are both natural redheads, their eyes a vivid evergreen. They both share pale skin that could only have arisen from the northern latitudes of Europe. Normally, Brenda dyes her hair with streaks of gold, white and silver, which beautifully offset her natural shade. Since she's still many months away from a possible stage appearance, Bryce doesn't bother. Furthermore, Brenda cuts her hair off at the shoulders. Bryce now keeps hers cut at mid-neck. Body-wise, Bryce doesn't possess any of the tattoos Brenda has stitched over her arms and legs yet. And Bryce's breasts are a full cup larger than her mother's.

She smiled. "How may I serve you tonight, Mistress?"

I set the cane aside. "Your choice."

"Stand here, please."

She pointed to a spot beside the bed. I stood there. Bryce sat down on the bed before me, and then she reached to the belt of my jeans. Slowly undoing it first, she moved to unzip my jeans, and then she reached to the sides of my waist to pull them and my panties down. Once my cock was clear, she ducked in to take its tip between her lips. That contact made my body lock up as she started to pump, forcing me to grab onto her shoulders. Though it sounds like I reacted to her far too quickly, my mind always knows I'm in for something sexual with any of my 'bots and is more than prepared any time they are near me in a private setting. Her hands trailed up my legs to hold me firmly by the hips as the stroking increased, and then she opened her jaw wide to take me in all the way.

"So good..." I whispered.

Bryce trailed her lips along the length of my shaft, pulling herself clear to smile at me. "Can I swallow?" she coyly wondered.

Shuddering, I nodded before crying out again as she took me into her mouth using her tongue to bat and fleck to and fro over my flesh to entice whatever she could out of me. Taking me in all the way, she twisted one of her arms across my thigh to get at what lurked aft of my scrotum. Before I could react, her thumb and index finger pressed up against my clit. That made me scream out again as I felt the strength in my legs start to go. I didn't fall down more than a couple of centimetres before Bryce easily and gently caught me, twisting her body around to allow me to collapse onto the bed. Shoving me into a more comfortable position, she straddled my legs before reaching to my top.

Within seconds, my top and bra were pulled clear of my breasts, and then Bryce's tongue started to work on my nipples. One of her hands was hard at work stroking my dick, while her other one was probing my dampening cunt. My hips started to buck as her fingers pushed into the forward end of my vagina, which pressed up against my prostate gland. A chill warped through my groin as I felt myself about to explode.

"Bryce..." I gasped in warning before my mind started to haze out. Unlike my 'bots, I can't readjust my own pleasure buffer.

I felt her shift herself way up my legs, and then I gasped as she allowed my stick to plunge straight into her waiting sex. Seconds later, another cry escaped me as I felt myself shoot straight into her. Bryce jolted, wailing as her orgasm routines tripped in response. We remained in that position until I could feel myself think straight, and then I boosted myself onto my elbows. Bryce's eyes were barely focusing somewhere between my bust and my naval. Realizing that she probably didn't get much of a chance to really enjoy this, I reached over to grab her remote. Tapping the "C" button, I called to her, "Bryce, tune your pleasure buffer to one-quarter intensity."

She jolted, and then she started to quiver. Turning a 'bot's pleasure buffer to that level would make her very sensitive to even the slightest form of contact with all her erogenous zones. With that, I set the remote on the ledge over the head of the bed, and then I reached over to pull Bryce off my lap. A yelp escaped her as my dick brushed past her clitoris before being pulled clear, that melting into a soft moan as I laid her on her back beside me. With that, I stuck a finger into my mouth all the way, and then pulled it out before allowing it to trail down from her belly button. As soon as it pushed into her trim bush of reddish-brown pubic hair, Bryce's moans picked up considerably.

Then I tapped her clit.

She screamed out, her whole body bucking hard as another orgasm washed through her artificial mind. I grabbed onto her from behind, pressing my tits into her shoulder blades as my dick was shoved into the crack of her ass. Feeling that, Bryce's moaning picked up again as I began to sway my hips, pushing my stick up and down along her skin. "Deanna..." she mewed as I leaned in to lick the back of her neck.

"You said you wanted to swallow, Bryce," I reminded her.

"I changed my mind!" she protested. "Is that wrong?"

I shook my head. "No," I replied, before reaching over to take her remote and commanding her pleasure buffer back to nominal intensity.

The dazed look on her face quickly cleared up as she shifted herself to lean her right side against me. "Thanks," she whispered. "That was..." She paused as a deep breath stole her voice for a moment, and then she finished, "Wonderful!"

We shared a kiss. "If you're capable of changing your mind in the midst of sex, there's a lot of hope for you, Bryce."

She gazed into my eyes. "You mean it?"

"Yep, I mean it."

We shared another kiss, and then I pulled back to allow her to slip off her nightie. "Let me clean up a bit first, then we'll have some more fun." She winked at me before heading into the bathroom. "Be right back," she called out before disappearing through the doorway.

I watched her go, and then I sighed. "Seven 'bots," I muttered...

"So is this darned thing of yours done, Lenn?!"

Lenn smiled as she turned onto South Pelham from Lincoln Street, heading north to her laboratory. "We're all set and ready to go." It was Tuesday. We'd just spent the last half-hour or so prepping the apartment so we could have a hassle-free vacation. Mrs. Radclyffe, our next-door neighbour, would be keeping an eye on things at Denistoun while we're up in cottage country. "We've got enough supplies to last for a week. We'll bring the car along so we can get food from town when we need it, plus visit all the sites. We'll stay for three weeks at the most, which'll give you enough time to get yourself back in gear before you're needed at the tojang."

"Still..."

"Oh, stop complaining, Dee! Please?!"

"Yes, Dear."

Despite Lenn's reassurances, the rather large butterflies that were mosh-dancing in my stomach weren't probably going away anytime soon. Like most people, I want to live comfortably, without financial concerns weighing down on me. At the same time, working as much as I have, living on the road as I have since I graduated from university, I've come to appreciate the virtues of living within my own means.

Put simply, I don't want to freeload. It's wrong, and I strongly believe that it ultimately makes a bad impression in the eyes of other people. After all, if I really want to go crazy -- and to be frank, I didn't see myself doing that in the foreseeable future -- I have the money Mama secured away in mutual funds before she died to fall back on. Plus now, there was the money Grant-Aunt Tasha willed me.

So here I am, living full-time now with seven 'bots working their butts off -- and in the cases of Lenn, Reika and Irene, earning a lot more than I could ever dream of having while I remain a martial arts teacher at a tojang. So what do they decide to do? Within three days of Bryce, Chelsea and Lynda joining our overall family, talk starts to circulate about building a house on the lawn behind Lenn's lab that could meet all our needs. Two floors plus basement. Full internalized power grid. All the latest 'bot-theft defences you can think of. Private bedrooms for all the girls. A large master bedroom for me plus whomever I wanted to share it with. Another couple large guest bedrooms. A bathroom with all the bells and whistles. A small gymnasium for me. A private recording studio for Rayven and the Beemer sisters... !

Even more, with Grand-Aunt Tasha actually giving me a cottage of all things up by Georgian Bay for my own personal use... !

Get the idea so far? This is teetering on out of control.

Lenn pulled the car into the parking lot in front of the old school building. Parked by the north exit was a large recreational vehicle, no different from the small mobile homes retired people use when they wanted to go on private journeys to wherever. Sitting behind that was a mobile trailer, which will be towed up to Penetanguishene by the car we'll use as a runabout for groceries and other supplies as needed. When we'd get there, the trailer will be moved to latch onto the right side of the RV and used as a spare bedroom in case things at the cottage don't turn out so well. According to the people administering Grand-Aunt Tasha's estate, she hadn't visited the cottage for some time prior to her passing, so its overall condition remained a mystery.

Well, taking precautions in this instance is a wise thing, but still...

"There you are!" Rayven called out as Lenn parked the car beside the RV so the trailer could be wheeled into place and hooked on.

"Let's get it hooked up," Lenn ordered as she applied the brakes and hopped out.

I watched as Rayven and Lynda teamed together to pull the trailer into place. Seeing how big that sucker was, I had to admit that it was a good thing that my newest girls were Noram Cybersys 'bots, constructed with very sturdy skeletal frames and muscular components you don't normally see outside a construction site. Once the trailer was hooked to the car, Lenn set up the emergency lights. After taking time to ensure everything was latched down, she faced the others. "Okay, who wants to ride with me in the car?"

"I'll be with you," Rayven volunteered.

"Who'll watch over this place while we're gone?" I wondered.

"Gaye'll keep an eye on it," Lenn announced. "If there're emergencies, all my customers know who to go to. Let's get going."

The others nodded as we mounted up. Reika would be driving the RV. Stepping inside, I moved right to sit by the small dining table set up behind the driver's and co-driver's chair; Irene would be co-driver for the trip. As the others found their places, Lynda glanced at me. "Hey, you want to go lay down in the back, Deanna? You don't need to sit up here if you don't want to."

I weakly smiled at her. "I'm not that tired, Lynda. Thanks."

With that, we were off. To avoid any really tight turns, considering the bulk of the RV, not to mention the car-trailer combination Lenn and Rayven were keeping watch on, we headed south to Lincoln, and then east to Prince Charles Drive. From there it was a two kilometre trip south to the Highway 402 interchange, and then east to hook onto Highway 406 for the trip north into Saint Catharines. As we orbited around the eastern side of Welland's urban area, I was quick to see the Beemer sisters tense up. Glancing out the window I watched as we passed the East Main Street interchange, I then turned to look at Bryce. Seeing her gently nibble her lower lip, I sighed, sliding out of my seat.

I waved her with me to the back. "C'mon."

She gazed on me before she nodded. Seconds later, we were lying on the bed in the back of the RV. It's roughly double-sized, so it could fit three people in a pinch. With the area around the dining room table able to become another bed for two, the need for extra sleeping space became paramount. After all, I'm not one of those types who deactivates my 'bots and leaves them standing there like mannequins. And given that three of my girls were freed 'bots -- Rayven was ready to do her self-will test after we got back -- well...

"Thinking about the accident?" I asked as I kicked off my shoe, and then I shifted myself to lean on one of the pillows.

"Hard not to," Bryce admitted. "I mean, what Mom did was stupid beyond belief. But at the same time..."