Chapter 450: You Robot

A woman’s phone announced loudly, “Warning. Right leg temperature is critical. Cooling system fault. Emergency shutdown in progress. Locking into a standing position. Left leg put into a low-power state. Repair services dispatched. ETA, three minutes to your location. Live GPS tracking of child enabled.”

Now that is new.

I knew the five that came with the kids here were androids, but no one else in the dining area did.

“Please refrain from attempting to get a view of the procedure we will soon be performing to correct the indicated fault. These appliances are proprietary. It also protects the patient’s modesty, even if they are already nude,” one of the androids said.

They were set up with privacy curtains when one of the other girls with new legs brought the twelve-year-old boy holding onto her with his left leg around her waist, his left arm under hers, and his right arm over her shoulder. His right hand was resting on her breast, but that was just where it happened to be locked to help him stay on her back.

The androids placed him onto a chair that let them strap his torso and legs down. The process caused him to sprout a boner, causing him to try to cover up, which they didn’t allow.

His family, including his sisters, could come around to see what was happening. I also got to step over to see, but I had special permission. He did ask if they could make his sisters go away because he didn’t want them to see him with a boner.

“You have a boner every morning, and when you reach down to play with it when you don’t realize you are doing it,” his little sister told him. “How many times have I had to be the one to push it down into the toilet, so you didn’t pee everywhere? Since I got big enough to help, I’ve probably touched it more than you have.”

“But, uh, I have hairs, and it starts leaking when it gets hard now,” he stammered out.

His little sister burst out laughing but was finally able to say, “You’ve had hairs growing on your balls since Halloween. It started leaking out when you get hard since your nuts began growing around Christmas. Since David is a boy, and everyone else in the family, but you, it seems, knows, I can be the one to tell you. You have a hair trigger and a lot of wet dreams. I don’t know when or how, but your doctor checked that, and you can’t have Ruby or Francine bathe with you anymore. You can’t even be in bed with them anymore. I’m the only girl in the family who doesn’t have to worry about that mess getting me pregnant. It sucks because I’m twelve, with no signs that I’m even starting to get boobs. At least now you can sleep in your bed, and we don’t have to worry about you falling out.”

Now he blushed.

“Oh, God! I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that was why. I thought you were embarrassed about having to take care of me now that you are in high school,” he told his older sisters.

He wanted to tell them something else, but the androids had been working on getting the artificial skin unstuck. They were down at his balls and dick. He was already hard, but touching around that area had an unwanted effect, or maybe wanted, but just not right now. His hips would have pushed up in the air if his bionic legs were on. One of the android nurses knew it would happen, and before the first shot cleared the barrel, she had a cloth covering it. Once he completed his trip down O-mountain, she milked out the last few drops as she removed the towel.

He couldn’t look over at any of his sisters. The two older sisters whispered something in his ear before starting to laugh. That got him and the rest of the family laughing.

It must be an inside joke.

Once the fake skin was loose from his body, they pulled it inside out down to his knee.

“Shit! That is unbelievable,” his little sister said, pointing to where the top of the artificial femur had a shaft connected to the receptacle built into his hip.

The “doctor” got the fake skin loose for his other leg, pulled it down enough to access where it connected to his modified hip, put a tool inside the opening, lifted the leg, and gave a quick jerk. He asked the boy’s little sister to hold up her arms and the android placed the leg on her arms.

“This doesn’t weigh more than a gallon of milk,” she exclaimed.

“Since you are already familiar with his natural stimulation responses, you will swap out his legs. These were just the starter ones for him anyway. We hadn’t planned on arriving this soon,” the doctor told Heather.

He moved her around to the leg that had overheated. She learned where to open the section that held the circulation pump for the fake blood fluid used to make the legs not cold to the touch. It also cooled them down when being used hard, like when running. A filter that kept crud out of the pump where the tubes connected. It was clogged.

The doctor reached down to guide Heather’s hands on how to remove the connectors from the pump. A carry-on suitcase-sized thing sat beside the boy. From inside, the doctor pulled out two tubes that he showed Heather how to connect. He then walked her through the process of starting the system that would filter the cooling fluid. It would analyze anything it found floating in it to determine its origin. In this case, it was found that a tiny section inside the fake skin of the legs had flaws in whatever they used to make the skin. It broke down in that area. Heather got instructed on how to remove the boy’s other leg.

“Watch his testicles,” the nurse said softly so those of us near the boy could hear. “When they start to draw up, and his scrotum tightens, he needs to have something put in place to keep him from making a mess. Don’t make fun of him because it isn’t something he can control. To properly interface their prosthetics to their brain, we sometimes have to tie them into nerve clusters that cause their bodies to trigger the physiological responses of an orgasm. They don’t feel any orgasmic pleasure.”

Heather’s brother told her, “I feel the muscle contractions that make stuff shoot out and dick bounce around. All the mess without any of the fun. At least boys get a break between it happening while girls have it happen almost non-stop. They make as big a mess as the boys, if not more.”

“He is correct. Even pre-pubertal females experience heavy vaginal secretions. Their clitoris becomes hypersensitive to any form of contact, thus triggering pelvic muscle contractions,” the nurse explained.

The boy added, “Without stuff staying pushed together down there, all that juice has to go somewhere when it happens to them. It is usually only one squirt, but it can go a long way. It isn’t the squirting Ruby and Francie sometimes do when they rub themselves when they think I’m asleep.”

“Hey!” Ruby said, getting pissed off.

“Oh, get over it, Ruby,” their mom said. “You are worse than a boy about playing with yourself. Squirting isn’t anything to be embarrassed about, Ruby. Not like you can do a thing about it anyway. It is genetic.”

The doctor got them back on track. Heather installed the replacement right leg, and Ruby did the left.

Ruby was blushing the whole time. She made the boy fire off three times before getting that prosthetic locked into the socket correctly.

I went over to her with a clean cloth, pushed it between her legs, and pressed hard against her clit. Both of her hands went to my shoulders for balance. I patted her dry and kissed her on the forehead.

I looked over at Francie to see if she needed the same, and she said, “That isn’t the relief I need, David, but thanks anyway.”

I’m not even going to ask Heather.

The replacement legs would slowly let him grow three inches over the next six months. After that, the legs would need replacing again.

Heather asked the doctor, “Do we have to do this very often? What about having to wash under the fake skin? Is it ok if he plays with himself in private? Does he, uh, need any special supervision? Can he do it, so it feels good when it happens?”

“Unless he has another component failure, we will not need to remove the limbs, and it isn’t required to wash under the artificial epidermis, but you can check underneath from time to time,” the doctor asked. “Do you need any special supervision when playing with yourself?”

“I don’t play with myself because it doesn’t yet do what it does for my sisters,” Heather answered without a blush. “Hopefully, that won’t be a problem once I start to get boobs.”

The nurse confirmed that he was “checked out” for both arms to ensure he didn’t do any physical damage. Anyone who got an arm prosthetic had to get “adjusted” to the right amount of pressure, speed, and control. They didn’t have any bionic replacements for that part for boys and girls.

Once they ran his prosthetics by the app and trained his parents how to do it, he got sent to catch up to the other kids running their new limbs through a complete set of diagnostics. The boy’s legs were a few inches longer, so he needed to be careful and work up to a faster speed. He didn’t have on sweats here to protect his skin from wiping out.

“Can I take Heather to our little mobile home of horrors to run a few blood tests and a quick exam? Based on your other daughters and those of her cousins, she should have begun puberty around ten. We have the equipment to do a full endocrine workup,” the doctor asked.

Have fun, Heather. At nine, your body did try to start puberty, but you won’t eat any vegetables or fruit. They will give you a Molly cocktail, and you will eat whatever your mom puts in front of you for the next few months and beg for more.

I used my implant to tell the androids that I would quickly pump in what she needed to have breast buds. Heather was around ten pounds overweight for her height, so she wouldn’t notice me changing some of that baby flab on her chest into breast tissue just underneath. When the androids examined them in a few minutes, they would find that she did start growing breasts. I also fixed Heather’s problem with getting any form of pleasurable sensations from her clit. Less than two percent of the nerves for her vagina, g-sport, bladder, butthole, and clit were connected as she developed inside her mom’s womb. The nerves were all there. They hadn’t ever made it that final fraction of an inch.

Heather will have to wait for the links to her cum trigger to develop normally. They are how I expect them to be for a little girl now.

Some of the older boys and girls with arms and legs, some only needing partial prosthetics, were patiently waiting for me. They wanted to go to the pavilion where I had danced with the girl earlier.

When we got there, one of the girls made a lousy attempt at saying, “I know Kung Fu.”

How can I not do it?

“Show me,” I said in my terrible impression.

Their parents were curious as to what was going on.

I must be careful not to break their new arms and legs, but they won’t hold anything back. Is it wrong to pinch and tickle?

These kids did indeed know Kung-Fu plus Tai Chi, Kendo, Tae Kwon Do, and Judo. We were all sweating, which was fine by me. As their batteries ran down, others of the kids with new limbs took their place. None were at a master level, but they could pass the test for the rank one or two below a black belt or equivalent with a bit more practice.

“David,” one of the dads said to get my attention and ask what the other people we wondered. “How is that possible? My son was born with only deformed stubs for arms and legs, now, he is better than his brothers and sisters in Tae Kwon Do, and they have been going to the dojo since they were five. We only sent him to camp a month ago.”

I didn’t get to answer because an older man, who wasn’t an android, came up to say, “While David was the innovator, he was only the first to test our exoskeletons. His time at one of our research hospitals gave us a wealth of data to process. Since then, we found that Tai Chi was a low-impact, repetitive, rhythmic series of exercises that worked unbelievably well in training traumatic head injury patients to use the exoskeletons to rebuild their atrophied muscles. Part of our research resulted in the spinal alignment brace you have seen a few patients wearing today. We use screws to attach each external vertebrae to its corresponding vertebrae in their spines. When we found damaged vertebrae, our micro-precision robotic surgical tools slowly removed microscopic fragments of the bone until they cleared all damaged areas. We use a rapid-setting bone substitute and artificial lumbar disks to recreate the removed sections. When they have recovered enough to be mobile, we move them into exoskeletons as we do traumatic brain injury patients. Tai Chi also benefitted these patients, both physically and mentally.”

“But, my child had no spinal injuries, just deformed stumps for legs,” a woman interrupted.

“Thank you for bringing that up,” the older man replied. “For whatever reasons, these children were born without a part or all of their limbs. Those who had them and lost them still remembered how to move them, and many had some form of barbaric prosthetics, so all of them had to learn how to use their new, or upgraded, prosthetics. As I already mentioned, with the data we collected from David’s testing of the exoskeletons, we had the vehicle to train the patients to use their new limbs. Their prosthetics also needed stress testing. We did both at the same time. When these delightful children were not sleeping, as they waited for their batteries to recharge, we strapped them into an exoskeleton that took them through various martial arts’ repeated moves. Being children, they could learn a set of movements quickly and control their prosthetics to move the exoskeletons. The more proficient they became, the faster we allowed them to move. David took longer to learn the same movements because he had to build muscle. Your children only had to program their brains to tell their bionic arms and legs how to move the way they wanted.”

“It doesn’t mean I’m any better about not tripping over my own two feet before my cancer required them to remove both legs and most of my arms,” a girl said. “Oh, I’m the one they said had to tell all our families that we aren’t going to be bionic super-kids. The doctors set governors that kept us from running, jumping, hitting, or kicking any faster than other kids our age so we could try to break our new limbs. It was also a reward for working so hard to come here to camp for what remains of the summer. We all will have two hours of physical therapy every day before school and eight hours a day on the weekends until we get all the bugs worked out.”