4: Accessible Ava
A full-length mirror stood next to the door for the mistress’s large closet. A closer look showed it to be covered with dust and smudges. Ava retrieved a bottle of glass cleaner and a rag from her caddy of cleaning supplies. Catching her reflection, she noticed her headdress was slightly askew and paused to straighten it. Looking herself up and down she checked the rest of her uniform, stealing a moment of pride at her own appearance.
Returning to the task, the maidbot sprayed the glass and began to wipe methodically. Wiping the mirror with her right hand, her left found its way under her skirt and began stroking her growing erection. She applied more Windex which was somehow squirting not out of a spray bottle, but her cock. She felt overwhelmed with bizarrely mixed urges of cleanliness and horniness.
The system awoke Ava. Her unfulfilled erection subsided and the maidbot pod secured her chastity belt before she stepped out to begin another day.
The dreams induced through her collar had undergone some changes of late. Firstly, they now unambiguously featured Ava, albeit a version with Spencer’s unique anatomy. Secondly, they included themes beyond footrubs, adding a wide assortment of maidbot duties.
Later that morning Ava found herself cleaning that very mirror. This too had become a common pattern; the system would use the maid’s to-do list as a source of topics. As she began to wipe the glass, she looked approvingly at her reflection, imitating the earlier dream and recapturing its suggestive undertone.
Suddenly, Ava’s blissfully eroticized cleaning was interrupted. Unexpectedly back in control, Spencer looked up and saw his mother in the mirror, standing behind him.
“So, it’s been a while since we talked, and I wanted to ask how being my maidbot is going for you.” Somehow this question, though odd at first, had come to feel normal to both of them.
Rather than turn to face her, Spencer spoke to his mother’s reflection. “I was rather enjoying it,” he said with a hint of annoyance.
She did not expect that tone. “I beg your pardon?”
He paused and took a breath. “You startled me, that’s all. I was just admiring myself in your mirror.”
Her indignation shifted to curiosity. “I see… that’s something you enjoy, looking at Ava? I designed her appearance myself, you know.”
Spencer’s eyes shifted back to his own image and he smiled broadly. A softer, higher voice replied. “I did not. Thank you for making me so pretty!”
Cassandra was a bit surprised at her son’s words. Perhaps she should not have been; Spencer had not laid eyes upon his prior appearance for many weeks. Old photos and other reminders had been meticulously cleared away, so he’d only observed himself as Ava. His sense of visual self-recognition had adjusted accordingly.
She noticed the rag in her son’s right hand slowly continued to wipe the mirror. “And I see you are still cleaning, even with the collar switched off. Are you enjoying that as well?”
Looking down he saw it was true. Spencer felt sheepish, as though his mother had caught him pleasuring himself. Given the dream he was absentmindedly mimicking, that wasn’t far from the truth. “I… I suppose I am. It feels good to do, feels right.”
Cassandra was glad to hear that her son felt comfortable in his nanobot-modified skin. This made it clear Spencer had not just accepted but actively embraced being Ava, and laid to rest any doubts she’d been entertaining about where this conversation was going.
“I’m so glad to hear that you are enjoying your maidbot activities, and I want to try a new way to keep tabs on that. I want to set up a distress word for you.”
“A distress word?”
“Yes. The idea is that we come up with a word that you can use to alert the maidbot system that something is wrong and you need my attention. Your collar monitors all the motor impulses that leave your brain, even the ones that don’t connect to muscles while the system is active, so if you try to say a special word it can generate an alert.”
What Cassandra neglected to specifically mention was that this wouldn’t be an additional way for Spencer to communicate. Rather, it was going to become the only way.
Olivia, the engineer assisting with Spencer’s service as a maidbot, had long wanted to reduce Cassandra’s use of deactivations for check-in conversations. The two had been back and forth about this matter, with one presenting detailed graphs showing that deactivations are unnecessary and stressful to Ava, and the other seeking regular reassurance about the well-being of her son. Olivia previously talked her down from daily checkins to one every couple of weeks; now, she had finally found a way to convince Cassandra to eliminate them entirely.
Spencer swallowed, feeling the snug presence of the control device against his throat. “I guess that’s no weirder than the other stuff this collar does,” he replied.
“Here’s how we test it: I’m going to switch you back over to Ava, and then I want you to try to say ‘pineapple’ three times. Remember that you can’t just think about pineapples, you have to try to move your mouth to speak the word.” She awaited some response to these instructions.
Spencer was, again, lost in his own reflection. Cassandra let a quick smirk cross her face as she thought of all the times that her son had failed to attend to her words. This time was different: she could do something about it. She pressed the activation button on her phone, and Ava immediately resumed cleaning the mirror. Waiting and wondering, she thought she might need to repeat the testing instructions.
Her phone sprung to life with a chirping noise. “Looks like you were listening after all! And also it works.”
Ava, hearing no direct question, remained silent.
Cassandra pressed a button on her phone. “OK, I’ve cleared the alert. Since you seem so eager, I’ll let you get back to your duties, maidbot!” With that their final check-in ended a bit abruptly. Henceforth Ava’s collar would be deactivated only if she thought it necessary, the definition of which seemed to have narrowed considerably.
Ava finished her work cleaning the mirror and the system directed her to other tasks.
“I see you have the real Ava back. That’s good.”
Alexis stood in the front door, bag in hand, for another visit. Her words indicated a mistaken assumption about the maidbot before her. Given the problems that arose during her previous visit, her mother chose not to correct her.
“So nice of you to visit again, sweetie,” she replied.
“So does this mean my weirdo brother isn’t living here any more?”
“It’s … just me and Ava now.” In Cassandra’s mind this was not technically a lie.
“Glad to hear it. Ava, take my bag to my room.”
Cassandra hoped that her daughter would be sufficiently self-involved to miss what stood before her, and this strategy worked. Although Alexis was a demanding guest to the maidbot, the system was able to handle the situation without her learning Ava’s secret. Indeed her brother didn’t come up again for the entire weekend. Spencer was relieved to avoid conflict, although still vaguely aware the rest of his family was behaving as though he no longer existed at all.
This successful encounter helped Cassandra decide that Ava, under the system’s careful guidance, could handle more challenging situations. She wondered what else her maidbot might be capable of handling.
Ava had never traveled in Cassandra’s car before, but her programming covered this situation. She opened the car door for her mistress, took her jacket, closed it after she had entered, and sat herself in the back seat behind the driver. She kept her hands folded in her lap and her gaze downwards.
The two had not had any direct conversation about the nature of this journey, but Ava recalled experiencing a dream last night in which she worked at a dinner party. As with her other dreams, this created a palpable sense of anticipation.
Cassandra’s phone rang. “Hello Maxine, I’m on my way.” Oddly, she had answered on a handset rather than the car’s speakerphone, so Ava only heard one side of the conversation. “Yes, my maidbot is with me, just as we discussed.”
As we discussed? wondered Spencer.
Thus it came to pass that Ava and Cassandra were arriving early to a good-sized country home for a dinner party. As they pulled up the caterers were unloading. Ava jumped out to open the door and provide her mistress’s jacket. A woman stood in the front door; Spencer vaguely recalled her as the same woman who once asked his mother to borrow him over tea. This made it inescapable what was happening here.
Spencer couldn’t know that, despite her initial refusal, his mother had found herself in the situation of needing a favor from Maxine at work. A brief negotiation ensued, and Ava’s services had become the consideration requested. He might have found some comfort in the fact that his mother did not come to this decision easily. She discussed the matter with Olivia at some length; the engineer reassured her that Ava’s programming, combined with the security enhancements they had added last month, were quite sufficient to handle an offsite dinner party.
“Maxine! So lovely to see you.”
“Cassie! Thank you for coming, and for bringing your maidbot.”
“Sure thing, and her name is Ava.”
The stern woman looked over the maidbot skeptically. “Ava? Is this the same one you had when I visited you?”
Cassie was caught without a ready explanation. “Um, yes, same Ava on the inside. But with an updated look.”
“Yes, I’ll say. I like this version, that other one seemed … mannish.”
The three walked toward the living room, where they found a younger man looking distinctly underdressed, wearing sweatpants and no shirt. Maxine seemed a bit embarrassed by his presence.
“Peter, I thought we had agreed you would stay out of the way in your room for this evening.”
He did not reply but gave an annoyed expression and retreated down the hallway.
Cassandra sought to dispel the tension. “I’ve heard you talk about your son, it’s nice to put a face to the stories. So what does he do?”
“Mostly he tries my patience. He’s been out of college for seven months but hasn’t yet found the ‘right fit’ for him.
Cassandra had some ideas for how to help an aimless son, but limited her comments to the task at hand. “So, what do you need Ava to do here?”
“The caterers are setting up in the kitchen; I just need her to serve. There are only five of us.”
Ava’s programming behaved flawlessly and thus the bulk of the evening went without incident. The maidbot provided seamless service and Maxine’s other guests expressed compliments that seemed vaguely covetous. After the mains had been cleared there was a lull in demands on Ava’s time, so the system had her standby in the kitchen.
Peter, still wearing the same minimalistic attire, wandered into and noticed Ava was idle. He decided this was the opportunity to test some ideas he’d found online about maidbot protocols.
“Maidbot, come with me to the bathroom, I need your help with something.”
Ava’s instructions while in this house were to assist as directed, and did not include any specific exclusions, so the system directed her to follow.
Peter gestured toward the back of the room. “Maidbot, I need you to clean the bottom of this bathtub.”
“Very good. Sir, please stand aside so I can obtain proper cleaning supplies, which I assume are in the cupboard behind you.”
“Um, first, why don’t you look closely at the bathtub to confirm what kind of cleaning it requires?” Peter hoped this ruse would do the trick.
Ava bent down to look closely at the tub. In a moment Peter was behind her, pulling up her skirt and pawing at her panties. In such situations maidbot protocol is to freeze in place, so Ava remained still as he slid his hands inside the garment. He stopped, disappointed, upon encountering the metal chastity belt. He did not notice the front of the belt and how its shape indicated a somewhat non-feminine anatomy…
A bit annoyed to see his plan stymied, Peter thought about the guide he had read. Pondering briefly he tried a different approach.
“Maidbot, forget about the bathtub. I am a person with a disability. I require special assistance from you.”
Ava stood, straightened her clothing, and addressed him as though nothing usual had just taken place. “Very well sir, what kind of assistance do you require?”
Peter lowered his sweatpants. “I am dirty, but a handicap prevents me from washing myself. Please do so for me.” He was not subtle in pointing to the part of his body he had in mind.
Normally maidbot programming would not allow anything like this, but the Citizen Empowerment Act had been interpreted by the courts as requiring android helpers to provide reasonable accommodation to persons with disabilities. The programming for this situation was carefully crafted by company lawyers: when a human claims to have a disability, maidbots are not permitted to request proof or details about the nature of the problem, only to perform anything from a list of requested assistive services. Hackers had obtained this list and found this service was vulnerable to the sort of misuse that Peter had in mind.
Ava reached for a washcloth, but Peter stopped her. “I also have a skin condition which is aggravated by abrasion, so I require a gentle cleansing with bare hands.”
Applying liquid soap to her palms, the maidbot moved forward to begin. Peter could scarcely believe this was working; soon his body began to respond to the attention. His eyes half closed. Usually when he did this he would conjure up a fantasy, but he was unable to think of anything more titillating than the reality before him.
Just as he became fully erect, Ava stopped. “All clean, sir,” she said and moved to rinse her hands.
“No, maidbot, I’m not clean yet. Just keep going and I’ll tell you when you’re finished.” His tone was clear and direct, so the maidbot system performed as directed, sliding her soapy hands along his throbbing flesh.
Giving another guy a handjob definitely was not an interest of Spencer’s, but he was oddly OK with the situation. The dreams he’d been experiencing conflated maidbot duties with eroticism, and so the idea that cleaning might include the sensation of stroking a cock did not seem strange or alarming in the slightest. Thus it was that, although he did have a way to call his mother for help, he did not make use of it.
Ava continued her task as directed, and after a couple minutes several spurts cascaded out of Peter and onto the bathroom tile. Peter paused to catch his breath, then pulled his sweatpants back up. “Thank you, maidbot. Please wipe off the floor and then return to the kitchen,” he said while performing a hasty exit.
Whenever Ava completed a task the collar provided a mild positive reinforcement, and this task proved no exception. She felt a moment of satisfaction at having performed a duty well, and shortly returned to the kitchen as directed. A few minutes later she was refreshing the guests’ after-dinner cocktails.
After the other guests had left, Maxine bid Cassandra farewell. “So that was a lovely evening, and your maidbot helped me impress the other guests. I’ll approve the transfer to your team, and we must do this again sometime.”
Cassandra considered the transactional nature of this “friendship” to be kind of gross, but if lending Ava’s services would help her project succeed she was willing to put those thoughts aside.
As the weeks became months Ava came to feel fully settled in her role. Spencer had not encountered anything to evoke who he used to be for a long while. Without seeing his prior appearance, speaking in his own voice, or even hearing his old name, the associated memories faded into the distance. There was only a maidbot now, and thanks to nightly dream-based conditioning this elicited positive emotions. Being Ava felt authentic and special.
It is because of this that it was so jarring when Ava answered the front door to greet … Ava. Another maidbot looking just like her stood there, with Olivia in tow. Ava, one of them anyway, showed the other two into the living room where her mistress was waiting.
“Cassie, lovely to see you. I know it took a long time, but we finally managed to secure the parts needed to fix Ava! I know we’ve been awaiting this day, and now this leaves us with a pretty big decision.”