A Change In Circumstance
Annabelle massaged the neck and shoulders of her client in a circular motion, moving into long strokes as she spread the jasmine scented oil down the smooth back and onto soft white buttocks. She smiled at the music of her client’s moans while she kneaded and squeezed and contemplated.
Eighteen months earlier her mother had been struck down with a mystery illness that no amount of money could cure. Guinevere Aphrodite Ghatez died a pauper and the Creditors came to collect. She knew they were coming. She’d seen her family’s finances plummet. She prepared.
She sat in the Ghatez parlour for what would be the last time with her father and a thin faced Creditor, while a Surgeon opened her forearm with a laser knife. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of charred flesh, but kept watching and finally saw the computer that had been inserted into her arm at birth.
In front of the Programmer an Interactive Live Holography image of her computer floated. She watched the Programmer enlarge it to a size where the schematics were visible to the naked eye and hoped the subtle changes she’d made would go unnoticed. It was difficult to remember to breathe normally while the Programmer worked on her computer.
She needed a distraction so focussed her mind on the weight of the gold locket against her breast bone. It was the only piece of jewellery she was allowed to take with her. Concealed inside it, behind the Ghatez family portrait, was her miniature ILH machine.
The Surgeon sealed the wound that now ran the length of her forearm. They hadn’t needed to cut her open, but the scar would be her brand for all to see. She wondered if it would be possible to program the computer to remove the scar.
‘Never have I seen a distinguished family fall so low,’ said the Creditor, a smile on his thin lips, ‘Still, you’re not the lowest of the low. Who knows, perhaps you’ll be able to claw your way back to the top. Mister Ghatez, you will be sent to Arundell & Co in the Elizabethan Sector, and Miss Annabelle will be housed at one of Madame Bordello’s establishments in the Dickensian Sector.’
‘Good-bye Father,’ she’d said, touching his shoulder before they led her away. They were half way down the hall when they heard a gunshot. She’d cried then, but not since.
Annabelle’s skilled fingers massaged her client’s thighs, calves and soles. She was glad they’d sent her to the Dickensian Sector, staying in one of Madame Bordello’s brothels in the Computer & Robotics Sector would have been more than a little awkward, besides she’d completed her project in that Sector, it was good to have a new one to experiment in.
Today’s client rolled onto her back before Annabelle had finished and said huskily, ‘Sex me now, Sweetie. Skip the rest.’
Annabelle smiled, this client was always eager. ‘You have paid for the full body massage and the full body massage you must have,’ she said, kissing the instep of a shapely foot as she stroked her client’s legs.
She’d left with nothing but the clothes on her back and one small travel bag. All her equipment had been taken apart, each piece sewn into the hems and linings of her clothing so she still had everything she needed to continue her experiments.
She’d hoped that Madame Bordello’s would be interesting, and was not disappointed. Madame had quickly ascertained Annabelle’s sexual preference and allocated clients accordingly, although Madame had also assigned her a male pleasure bot. ‘You never know when a client is going to request a threesome, and it wouldn’t hurt for you to get used to the feel of a bit of cock, just in case.’
She’d used him as Madame had suggested, and in ways she had not, subtly altering his programs and databases, creating secret partitions and installing her own illicit programs in preparation.
Her hands had reached the client’s breasts and Annabelle was forced to focus as the client pulled her into a kiss. Later she whispered in her satiated client’s ear, activating the sleep program she’d installed during an earlier session – far more reliable and effective than the drugs.
Opening her locket the ILH machine whirred softly, projecting a holographic image of the client’s computer in the air in front of Annabelle. She made another tiny change and uploaded it, all the while dreaming of a world without Creditors, Programmers and Scientists.