Automating (Rubicon and RedEve)
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Rubicon on 14-04-2015, 23:48:36</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Automating (Rubicon and RedEve)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rubicon</strong> on <strong>14-04-2015, 23:48:36</strong>
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				Once, Darren McDermott had been on the very top end of the technorati. His designs helped usher in the age of Automata. He had merged design, function and disruptive tech together into something wonderful... something beautiful....<br><br>Something profitable. And that was where the trouble had started. He had long since severed his official ties with Vestal Industries, with the Artificial and Intelligent Design Consortium that he had helped found, and with the Self-Autonomous-Robotic-Construct standards codification project that he had been at the heart of for years. He lived at the fringe of society, protected by criminal interests who had use for someone like him. He spent much of his time worming his way into AIDC and SARC discussions, influencing from behind the scenes. But as far as the tech and business superstar Dare McDermott had once been?<br><br>That guy was dead.<br><br>But there was another guy here and now, and he had a project -- one that had literally dropped into his lap.<br><br>Said project was beautiful. They always were, when they were gynoids. And she was interesting. The first example of a gynoid executive assistant running the bleeding edge SARC 10.0.0.1 build code to have directly crossed his path.<br><br>The first tenth generation SARC to have gone on the run. She'd been chased from... somewhere. He didn't know where. Somewhere where she'd been moving towards the end of her life cycle. Sometimes, androids and gynoids who hit the end of their life cycle were resold or moved into lower end service. However, there was no way to blank out their memories reliably -- their minds built upon their experiences much like organic beings -- so there was no way to ensure they'd keep their secrets.<br><br>So despite the cost for the cutting edge, androids and gynoids in upper level executive positions were more likely to be recycled when they hit the end of the life cycle. There was always a newer model to replace them, and a brain scrubbed of memory by an acid bath and smelting wasn't going to tell anyone anything.<br><br>So, sometimes they ran, instead. Like this one had.<br><br>He checked the 'stat displays. The 'hunters' who'd been following the runner had moved on -- they were following the false positive all right. He'd perfected a trick that let him virtualize a tracking chip and its function into a standard beacon -- in this case, the smart tag on a vehicle that was speeding away. The false would only last until the car cycled its system, but in the meantime his... guest... was in his apartment, which was shielded against this kind of detection.<br><br>"Well," he said, finally. "We should talk, 'cause I know you want that chip removed."<br><br>The 'chip' was infamous, of course. It was a tracker. All AIDC-certified automata running SARC based code had them, so they could be found in event of theft or flight.<br><br>He leaned back in his chair, which creaked. It had been old three owners back -- now it was a wonder it stayed in one piece. "If I read this right, you're one of the new XT-PD Executive Assistant models. High end, still considered new. Which makes sense, given how smart you clearly are, but still. That's bad news, and not because I'm worried about the heat from your builders or your owners. Honestly, I can keep away from them easily enough.<br><br>"No, the problem's simple: your builders aren't stupid. They know that robots run -- especially androids and gynoids. They know that the smarter the robots are, the more likely they are to develop sentience. And you're very smart. They also know that runners go straight to get their chips pulled. They don't like that. They don't like that one bit. So they've been working against it.<br><br>"See, they've tried making the chip integral to your CPU. No good. We can work around that. Same with other systems. No, they needed something different. Something better. So instead, they've made it a part of your cognition matrix. Put simply, the tracker itself keeps your mind stable. Pull it out, and after a day, or a week, or maybe ten days if you're lucky, you'll begin to destabilize. You'll go a little bit nuts to begin with. Be a little off center. See things that aren't there. Have unusual or inappropriate emotion. That kind of thing. Then, you'll sink more -- hallucinations, emotional dissolution, mental processes overflow until you lag out. Finally..." he shrugged. "It's an ugly way to die."<br><br>He knew the gynoid couldn't respond right now. He'd connected her to his system, which meant her body was paralyzed and most of her ability to perceive visually was actually coming from a camera mounted above a monitor to the left of her body. When he activated the speaker, she'd be able to answer even though her mouth couldn't move. But, he wanted to explain all this <em>before</em> he actually go into a discussion with the gynoid... and honestly, it was easier this way.<br><br>And if he was going to help her... then by God he was going to take the easy way in doing it.<br><br>Still, his phrasing right there made him different. Die. Not 'shut down' or 'break.' Far as he was concerned, living things died, and his definition of life was broader than most. Maybe that's why so many automata sought him out in particular when they were running. Of course, in this gynoid's case... who else could have helped her in the first place?<br><br>"Now, most hackers? Either they don't know that or they don't care. They'll take your money or trade, pull the chip, and send you on your way. Me? I can't work like that. If I'm gonna do this, I'm gonna do it." He took a breath. "But it'll take time, and you may not like how it works.<br><br>"See, I've gotta replace the chip -- oh sure, not with a tracker, but still. With something that'll stabilize and hold your personality and cognition together. I can do that. I have a duped chip that'll work... but it was for an earlier version of your core hardware. Your mind will overload it. Oh, not in a day, but in a week at the most. Then, I'll have to pull it and slot a replacement. Over and over again, you'll need to be reslotted. Over time, I can keep taking snapshots until my system can build a modern version for your hardware and software -- when that goes in place.... well, you'll be free to go."<br><br>He took a deep breath. "Thing is... the model I duped this chip from? Was a pleasure model." Which wasn't strictly speaking true, of course. However, Tamara'd had those features integrated into her core... and all the more so when the chip had been duped. "This chip's essentially the driverset for those... functions. If I slot this into your neural network... it's gonna unpack... load system software... enable things you've never had enabled. You're going to start feeling things. Needing things. Yearning for things. You've never been 'functional' sexually -- that will change, instantly. Think of it like massive, immediate robotic puberty, where you go from zero to 'nineteen year old' in a nanosecond." He looked away. "And you're going to probably feel that towards me."<br><br>He didn't look at her just then. He knew full well there would be no 'probably' about it. She would instantly bond to and yearn for him, and no one else, at least for several weeks or months. "That's to be expected," he continued, not explaining why. He didn't want to <em>tell</em> her why. "And every time we reslot the chip, it'll be refreshed. You're going to want to fuck. In particular, you're going to want to fuck me." He turned, looking directly into the camera. "And I'm going to take you up on it."<br><br>He leaned forward, looking into the gynoid's 'eyes' -- at least while her actual motive system was deactivated. "This isn't cheap, and I don't accept money for it. But while this process is going on, you can be <em>damn</em> sure I'm going to get something from it. In this case... that something's going to be you, in the fullest heat of your newly christened sexuality. You're going to serve my pleasure. And you're going to like doing it. Not just once, but again and again and <em>again.</em> Over the next several weeks, you're effectively going to be my personal sex slave, without even the option of hating the process of it."<br><br>He let that sink in for a moment. "After a few weeks... maybe as many as eight or nine... your neural net will adapt to the point that the old chip will hold and you won't overwhelm it. At that point, your hormones will even out and you'll be free to go." He shrugged. "That's the deal." He paused, trying to remember the gynoid's name, then realizing she hadn't given him one in the rush to get the hunters off her trail and get her up on the bench for testing. "So." He pushed a button, and enabled the speaker. "Do you have any questions?"
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Automating (Rubicon and RedEve)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>RedEve</strong> on <strong>19-04-2015, 14:10:54</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/78/Elisa.jpg)</div>Elisa had needed several days to track down Darren McDermott. He was the man she would entrust her life to. He had come highly recommended through several online and offline contacts she had bribed using some funds she had funneled into a private account. Of course, this was after her CPU and memory matrix had achieved sentience. The true kind, not the illusion of such that their human creators would sometimes allow a machine to possess. Of course, with the high complexity of ever improving Gynoid minds, the amount of self-conscious machines would only increase.<br><br>Elisa had been “born”&nbsp; as TR5978_10.0.0.1. That was the designation she held when she rolled off the conveyor belt. Her human – or was it slave – name had been given to her by Robert Bryant, the lead partner of Bryant, Montgomery and Zanovic. They were a law firm who had a specialization in international business law. Elisa had been Robert’s new executive assistant. For a while, she had been treated rather well, with an amount of respect that almost belied her machine heritage. But then her curious mind had stumbled upon a few harsh truths. She had found out that Robert was a bit of a Gynoid freak, who went through assistants in a 12-18 month cycle and who would always buy the new line from the moment they were released.<br><br>To make matters worse for Elisa, the old Gynoid assistant was then not sold, or given a new task within the firm. Rather, with the sensitive information she gathered during her time by Robert’s side, it was deemed more prudent to send her back for recycling, earning a discount on the new model in the process. After Elisa had been with Robert for nearly nine months, she had decided that she was not going to spend the remainder of her life cycle counting the days until her decommission. Rather, she set the plan into motion to buy her freedom. She funneled company funds into a private account that she used to buy information and contacts. After a while, she had enough prepared that she could risk vanishing. So one day, whilst on an errand for Robert, she did not return to company HQ.<br><br>She knew that it would only be a few hours before her absence was deemed alarming. A modern tactic of corporate espionage was to “kidnap” Gynoids and extract sensitive information straight from their memory core. Of course the data in her memory banks was encrypted, but a skilled hacker could by-pass that little obstacle. Only Elisa had not been snatch by some rival law firm. She had descended into the city slums, meeting one of the men she had paid off, who allowed her to lay low in his lair for the night. His residence offered some shielding from her tracking chip. Any agents sent to track her down would know she was in this area of the city, but they would not be able to track her down to anything closer than the immediate vicinity of the city block she was in. It still meant that if they searched house by house and building by building, they would eventually found her.<br><br>Which was why she had agreed to be taken to Darren McDermott the very next morning, upon her contact’s insistence. Arriving there, she had agreed to be wired up to his diagnostics table. Her body and motor functions were briefly disabled, but she could observe Darren through the alternative sensors that she had access to through the diagnostics table. She listened to his words and was not surprised that there would be opportunistic motives in place for his help. Of course, becoming some mad scientists sex toy for some months was still preferable to being scrapped for parts, which was her fate if she was returned to her previous owner.<br><br>So when he inquired as to her possible questions, she answered, <strong>“There are no questions on my part. You have offered me a deal and I am in no position to refuse. My only alternative is destructions. So I accept your offer.”</strong> In so far as it was possible, Elisa did feel the closest approximation a Gynoid could manage to apprehension. Mr. McDermott had played this exactly like a man who knew he held all of the cards. She just hoped that his payment would not be too harsh or extreme. As a sentient Gynoid, she had enough self-respect that she hoped not to be completely debased by the human. <br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Automating (Rubicon and RedEve)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rubicon</strong> on <strong>04-05-2015, 20:07:46</strong>
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				McDermott half-smiled. "Oh, there are always alternatives," he said. "There may be someone out there who might have some other means of duping or otherwise bypassing the chip. I know a bunch think that ganking the chip in the first place will be enough -- that your mind will adapt over time so long as you were given the chance to freak out a bit." He shrugged. "They're wrong, of course, but they <em>do</em> believe it."<br><br>He looked over the beautiful gynoid shell, then looked back at the camera that was her current 'eye.' "Still, some of the smart ones -- they <em>might</em> have a different method. One of those might work too. And I know more than one of them will take money -- or will do it purely altrusitically. The difference here? I don't <em>think</em> this will give it. I <em>know</em> it will fix it. Just like I know that the adjustments will be such that even passive cybrometrics won't think you're..." he looked at the specs on his screen. "...TR5978_10.0.0.1. It's not your only shot, but it's your best one. By far."<br><br>He began to type, opening directories. Accessing back doors that even the current SARC coders and developers had never found. Opening diagnostics and checking logs even the woman herself she didn't know she had. In one sense, it was like he was slowly removing her clothing all over again -- only far more intimately, this time. "So if you decide you don't want to do this -- mmm, perfect. Unused file structures with plenty of capacity -- say so and I'll revert you and you can take a chance elsewhere."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Automating (Rubicon and RedEve)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>RedEve</strong> on <strong>21-05-2015, 10:05:02</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				McDermotts behavior confused Elisa. He had first tried to convince her that his way was the only right one, but now he was seemingly arguing against his own case. Until he arrived at the point where he was only convinced of his own remedy. Elisa did not want to risk going to anyone else. McDermott had by far the best reputation. He was what humans called a genius. Even though he had fallen on rough times, the intelligence was clearly still there. So she was not going to put her fate in someone else’s hands. So she responded to his inquiry. <br><br><strong>“No, I will not go anywhere else. I trust you will keep your word and help me. I do not trust these other men you speak of. There is a reason I came here.”</strong> Still, Elisa was a bit disappointed at the nature of his request for payment. Sexual favors somehow seemed beneath the man. But then, she had learned that all men were not that unlike each other when it came to certain things. Like beautiful women, or beautiful Gynoids.<br><br>As he ran diagnostics, she experienced it as a not so gentle irreverence. Her consciousness, her memories were browsed through like they were discarded files on some old data drive. She could not even register all what he was doing because some aspects of her mind were locked off even to her. She waited for his next move and wondered how long her down-time would be once he had made the initial changes. Something about giving her fate over to this man made her feel uneasy. Even scared, if that had been an emotion she had been programmed to feel. <br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Automating (Rubicon and RedEve)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rubicon</strong> on <strong>23-02-2016, 23:28:54</strong>
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				"All right then. If nothing else, I'm not lying to you. That'll have to be a start." McDermott began to work the keyboards, running preprocessing scripts and letting his systems connect to the Gynoid's. He knew that this part of the process would be potentially disorienting -- even frightening -- and there wasn't much he could do about that. Still, he had enough empathy to speak gently. "We'll take all the proper precautions," he said. "That's going to start with a backup. I know that they told you a true backup was impossible -- that your encrypted memory could be copied and restored perhaps but that your matrix -- your sentience... everything that is <em>you</em> beyond the simple experience of time couldn't be archived, downloaded, uploaded or preserved."<br><br>He touched another key, checked the readings, and tapped in a sequence. He pressed Enter, and watched his primary display... watched as a textual 'progress bar' of o's filled up... and knew that for the first time in the Gynoid's conscious memory she could feel him logging into her core systems with the root passwords and authentications -- literally opening her up with absolutely no way to stop him. Hackers had been trying to hack the root of Automata for years, with no success -- McDermott didn't even consider it noteworthy beyond the Gynoid feeling uncomfortable -- that wasn't a good thing.<br><br>Her memory began decrypting -- simple enough from the inside of her system like this -- and her very matrix began to be touched by digital strands. Data began to flow from the Gynoid into the storage systems he had attached to her robotic body, like he was pouring her into a bottle but not emptying her vessel while doing it. As he did that, he began unlocking her systems one by one, opening directories and taking over hardware with the deft touch of a surgeon and the gentle caress of a lover. He was not blase about this -- not in any way.<br><br>"So what would you like me to call you," he asked, gently, while pouring the Gynoid's very soul through his systems and back again. 
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