Maid Accidentally

11:45… hmmm, he is running a little late, she thinks, which is good, since I am having some trouble. Molly had half of the maid latex suit on when she realized she had forgot the “stockings.” Her latex maid suit was the typical looking maid outfit. It had a very short skirt with a corset-like top. Her stockings were “fish net”, but only because the latex suit had criss-crossing lines drawn on it. Her gloves were also colored on, but in reality, it was the same part of her suit as her stockings. She had to tuck her real hair into the hood of the suit, so only her face was visible. She then attaches a bright pink wig in a bob-cut. Her little head band slides into the wig easily. Her shoes are 4 inch heels, but they were not of the stiletto style, so they are “clunky” in comparison. Which is okay by me, she thinks, at least they are more comfortable.

At 11:52, she is ready and waiting. She squeaks as she walks into the living room of the large house. Her boyfriend, Clint, and his wife (unfortunately) live in this very nice, two story house. The neighborhood is well over what she could afford, but the guard lets her in because she leaves her top button open on her blouse. The guard will pretend to check his clipboard, smile broadly, then open the gate. Molly waves with a big smile and drives up to the third house from the end. She always parks behind the neighbor’s house and crosses through Clint’s backyard. They have been sneaking away from each other’s work for a weekly rendezvous for months.

She has a suitcase full of costumes to wear that she keeps in her trunk. He will text his idea, and then she brings in what she needs. Today, he… vroom… oh good, he is here.

She walks up to the door in her latex maid outfit. I will meet him at the door and… huh, that’s odd, she thinks looking out the window. “Why did he drive his wife’s car today?” She hears footsteps at the door and her heart stops beating, those sound like heels of a woman. As she hears the sound of keys being handled, she peaks out the window in the door to see Clint’s wife, Eleanor. She is a rather tall, black haired woman. She is older than Clint by several years, which explains why he wants a hottie like me, Molly giggles. Wait, I gotta go, she screams inside. But before she can turn around, the front door opens and Eleanor stumbles into the entryway.

She looks disheveled and not in a good mood. She drops her bags and raincoat. Looking up, she sees Molly in her maid outfit and screams. Molly is too terrified to move. Eleanor has her hand over her heart, staring at this strange figure in her house. Breathing heavy, she asks, “Who are you and what are you doing in here?” Molly is processing all this and cannot think of any excuse that makes sense. I mean, she thinks, what logical reason would there be a latex maid in your house. A maid in a really nice house… hmmm, a maid in a really nice house.

Recalling some of the things she has seen on TV, she replies in montone, robotic voice, “Greetings, mistress. I am RoboMaid 1212. How may I be of assistance?”

Eleanor does not move at first. She stands there with her hand over her heart, breathing heavy. Molly cannot tell if she is buying it or not, but whatever she does, she has got to maintain the ruse. Do not be the first to break, Molly says with conviction to herself.

“RoboMaid?” Eleanor repeats. “We don’t have a RoboMaid.” Her tone is one of doubt, but Molly is not done yet.

“You are so right, mistress. This unit has been rented for the day and delivered for your convenience.”

Eleanor, still watching this ‘robomaid’ carefully, seems to relax a little. “Who ordered you?”

Molly replies, “Clint Bergman of Rolling Hills Estate. House number---“

Putting up her hand , Eleanor stops Molly with, “Yeah, I know where he lives.” Eleanor starts to say something else, but then she puts her hand to her head and leans against the wall.

“Well, I can figure it out later,” she says staggering along the wall. “If you are here to help, go into the kitchen and get me 3 Tylenol and a glass of Dr Pepper.”

Molly replies, “Yes, mistress” and turns on her heel and squeaks into the kitchen. She can hear Eleanor walking up the stairs slowly.

Once in the kitchen, she breathes a sigh of relief. Ok, she thinks, I can grab my stuff and get out of here before she realizes I’m not a robot. Looking around, she remembers that her bag is stuffed under the bed upstairs. Oh great, she curses to herself, I can’t leave yet. Knowing she has to go up to the bedroom where Eleanor is sure to be going, she finds the Tylenol (used it often after Clint’s play time) and grabs a half-can of Dr Pepper from the well-stocked fridge. Evidently, this is her remedy for the migraines, Molly reasons.

Squeaking with every step, she slowly climbs the stairs and turns right down the hallway to the master bedroom. Eleanor is laying across the bed, face down, her shoes still on. Molly stands in the door, thinking she might could grab the bag from the other side if she is asleep. “Oh good girl,” Eleanor mumbles, “Or whatever you are.” She rolls over and holds up her right hand. Molly’s hands are full, so she is not sure what to do. Eleanor looks at her and says, “Just put them on the night stand, you latex vacuum cleaner.” Molly obeys with a scowl, but Eleanor’s eyes were closed at that point thankfully.

Coming back to her, she helps Eleanor sit up. “Thank you,” she says weakly. Molly bends down and carefully picks up and places the Tylenol and drink in Eleanor’s hands. With a quick toss and gulp, all three pills go down as does half the can. “Please work quickly,” she whispers.

“So, what is your name?” Molly did not know how to answer that. She had not thought of a name. Eleanor had her head down as she sat on the edge of the bed, so she did not seem suspicious of the long pause. “This unit is designated RoboMaid 1212 until its redesignation.” That sounded robotic like, right?

“Oh, that makes sense,” Eleanor replies. “Ok, then you can be called Bunny Boo.” What kind of name was that, Molly asks herself, I don’t want to be called some stupid name like that. “Name override,” Eleanor mumbles, “Confirm.” Having seen enough commercials, Molly replies, “Designation changed to Bunny Boo.” Eleanor nods and says, “Help me get undressed, Bunny Boo.” Molly is now completely out of sorts. I have to undress my boyfriend’s wife? Oh this is just too weird.

Without alternative, she steps forward and helps her undress. Eleanor moves slowly, which helps Molly keep up in her latex bound movements. She looks to be in pretty good shape, Molly remarks. I bet she has to workout at her age to keep her figure. Within seconds, Eleanor is in nothing but her underwear. The pale yellow bra and panty set looks expensive. “Ok, Bunny Boo,” Eleanor says finally, “Let the girls out.” Molly knew what that meant, but just could not move. “Girls?” Eleanor curses under her breath, “My breasts, you oversized calculator! Undo my bra!” Molly obeys and unclasps her bra. What happened next was not expected. The bra falls down, revealing two very small breasts, that were covered by a specially made padded bra. Weird, Molly thinks judgingly.

Eleanor is too tired or in too much pain to care, as she rolls back on the bed and pulls the covers up. Molly drops the bra and begins to step to the other side of the bed to retrieve her bag, when Eleanor says, “Go wash the dishes in the kitchen, Bunny Boo. The dishwasher is broken.” Not wanting to cause any alarm, she replies, “Yes, mistress” and squeaks out of the room and down the stairs.

The next thirty minutes provided lots of ups and downs. She began washing the dishes, which she does not need gloves for (nice side effect to the suit, she giggles). Clint starts to pull in and sees his wife’s car. Which would be a good thing, except that he instead drives on past, turns around and heads back the way he came. At that moment, she could hear her phone vibrating upstairs, under the bed where Eleanor is sleeping.

I gotta stop that, she thinks, but if I go up there without being “summoned” will that be a robomaid thing or human thing? Her heart starts to beat faster thinking about it, especially as her phone vibrates again. With her hands in warm soapy water, she hears Eleanor weakly from upstairs, “Bunny Boo?! Come turn my phone off, please.”

Molly smiles, breathes again, and squeaks upstairs. She easily grabs her phone and Eleanor’s, turning hers off. Eleanor never looked up, but had rolled over to the side of the bed where Molly’s bag was. No hope in getting it now, she thinks. She heads back downstairs with both phones.

Clint had texted her, asking her if she was at the house or not. She goes to type her message, only to realize the smartphone will not work with her gloves on. The latex must be too thick, she whines to herself. He sends off three more about staying away and they can figure it out later. She wants to reply, but she would have to take off half of her outfit to get her hands out enough to reply back. Not sure if Eleanor is asleep yet, she sets her phone down and goes back to the dishes. When I am done with these, she reasons, I will take off my suit, because surely she will be good and asleep by then.

The next 30 minutes goes by quickly, and Molly has finished the dishes. She listens intently up the stairs but hears nothing. Stepping back into the kitchen, she peels the top part of her suit off, exposing her right arm. Grabbing her phone, she sends back a quick text about what happened and how she is playing the robo-maid. Clint is obviously mad and nervous. His whole world could come crashing down. He puts about every cuss word he can into the next few texts. Molly has no time for this garbage, so she puts her phone back in the pantry under some hand towels and redresses herself. She can hear some moaning from upstairs, so she figures she better check it out. Maybe Elanor passed out and she can grab her bag?

Squeaking up the stairs, she slowly enters the bedroom. Eleanor is not on the bed anymore. Smiling to herself she moves to the other side of the bed, when Eleanor’s voice breaks the silence, “Bunny Boo, I need you.” Following the sound of her voice, Molly enters the master bathroom. This bathroom is about the size of my apartment, Molly thinks. She looks around, forgetting who she is supposed to be, but Eleanor is not paying any attention. “I need a hand,” she says weakly.

Molly finds her around the toilet, literally. She is not quite hugging it, but she is wrapped partially around it. Molly thinks to herself, poor thing, I would not wish this on anybody. “Kneel down,” Eleanor whispers. Molly complies and kneels on both knees next to her. “Freeze.” Molly figures she is supposed to hold this pose. Eleanor slowly rolls over, grabbing a hold of Molly’s arm, then waist, then butt, then finally shoulder. In a much less-than-graceful move, Eleanor is now standing, leaning on Molly heavily. “ok, ok,” she mumbles, “good girl.” Staggering, she steps to the sick and washes her face with cold water. Drying off, she asks, “Help me to the bed, Bunny Boo.” Standing up with loud squeaking, Molly holds Eleanor’s arm while walking her back to bed.

Once there, Eleanor says, “Get the cleaning supplies from under the sink and clean the toilet, Bunny Boo.” Oh yuck, Molly thinks, there is no way I am doing that. Before she can move, Eleanor nearly knocks her over as she sprints back into the bathroom. Molly can hear the sounds of her as she hugs the toilet again. Taking advantage of the situation, she walks around the bed and grabs her bag. Walking quickly, she can see Eleanor on the floor again, breathing heavy.

Within moments, she is back downstairs. She opens up the pantry door to retrieve her phone as she hears the sound of a truck coming in the driveway. Her screen shows she has several texts from Clint. The most important one explains the truck in the driveway. RoboServesU is a nationwide company of service robots. She has seen their commercials, and based her acting job off of them. Clint’s text reads, “called friend at RoboU. Sending truck 2 transport u out. Replacement left.” Molly breathes a sigh of relief and reads his final text: keep playing along. She nods to nobody and puts her bag by the door with her phone inside. She grabs the vacuum cleaner that was out and starts vacuuming the floor. She wants it all to look natural.

The men come up to the door and ring the bell. Molly starts to turn off the vacuum cleaner, but she notices movement on the stairs. Eleanor is walking slowly down the steps, wrapped in a blanket. Each step seems labored, and Molly wonders if she should react. She seems to be ignored by the sickly woman, so she maintains her cleaning. The men at the door introduce themselves and state that they were called to replace this rented model as it has a software glitch. Eleanor does not seem to care, but asks, “But she has really been so helpful today… ” The men shrug their shoulders and reply, “We can see what we can do while we are here if you like. The replacement will be delivered later this afternoon.” Eleanor nods slowly and mumbles, “I finally get some good help around here and poof, it’s gone.”

Molly has her back turned to them, as she vacuums the floor. One of the men says, “Well, I can tell you there is something wrong. I have been hitting pause on the remote and she just keeps going.” The other guy makes a comment that she can’t hear, but she feels the prick in her left butt cheek. The icy cold fluid seems to penetrate her whole body. It is like her whole body is falling asleep at the same time. She is tingling all over, losing feeling in every extremity. Within seconds, she stops moving. The vacuum cleaner pulls out of her hand and falls to the ground. One of the men turn it off and set it back up. “Miss, why don’t you get back to bed? We will take a quick look and have her helping you again in no time.”

Eleanor smiles weakly and slowly struggles back up the stairs. By the time she reaches the top, she cannot even remember why she went downstairs. The actions of the repair men are lost as they try to get a reading from a handheld device. With Eleanor gone, Molly can explain herself. Unfortunately, the liquid they shot in her has completely immobilized her. She can only stand there while they wave devices around her and poke and prod her. “Hmm, I think her receiver might be broken, we could reinstall it in the truck’s mobile unit?” The other pulls a small rod from his bag and replies, “Let’s see if we can get a uplink first.”

Bending down, he lifts up the latex skirt of Molly. He tries to shove the rod in her, but the latex suit covers her completely. “Aw,” he states frustrated, “Her maid suit covers the port. We would have to peal her out of that whole thing.” The first guy restates his idea, “Let’s just get her to the truck.”

Within moments, they have wheeled Molly’s frozen frame to the extra large van in the driveway. The back doors open to reveal an amazing display of gadgets to Molly. In the center of the van is a large disc, which they stand her on. Lights come on all around her, as they try to figure out why this robot is not responding. I am not a robot, guys, she tries to think outloud. I’m a woman, she pleads, haven’t you ever seen one? They seem oblivious to her as they watch the screens intently. Molly can only stand there and wait.

“Well, I think we can get the database out through WiFi, then try the reinstall then.” When he presses a button, Molly feels an odd sensation. It is like someone opened the floor in her brain. It is like all her thoughts just came fluid and could all leave at a moments notice. The other guy leans over towards him, “It’s worth a shot, let’s try it.” He clicks a button, and Molly starts falling. Every thought she ever had seems to fall away, as if it has been dropped off a cliff. Like a waterfall, every thing that she was, leaves. Before she can protest, her mind is gone… blank.

“There we go, got her database in the computer.” Just as he says that, the other guy states, “Oh look, we got a green light for full reinstall of android functions.” They high five awkwardly and begin the installation. It takes a few minutes, but they easily place thousands a tiny motors and switched and gears inside Molly’s still frame using the van’s WiFi installer. The organic material inside her begins to be “infected” with the synthetic. With no results on the outside, her entire inner body becomes a synthetic android, all of her organic organs are now synthetic ones. Her skin and hair become shinier, as the machine merges her organic skin with the latex suit and fake wig. Just as Eleanor collapses in the bed, Molly’s body finishes being upgraded to a fully synthetic robot.

“Now, her database was huge,” tapping the screen, “so I figure she has never had a memory dump.”

“Probably,” scratching his head, “let’s go ahead and upload today’s database, so she can help this lady, and then place just the standard files/programs for this model.”

Seconds go by quickly, as they put back today’s database (“memories”) and the stock database from the factory. With the newly installed synthetic systems, it does not take long. Once completed, he says, “Designation check.” The robomaid remains motionless except for its mouth, “Bunny Boo.” The metallic sound is covered somewhat by the old familiar voice of Molly. All systems show green now, where before they had nothing.

Grabbing the remote, they send the RoboMaid back inside. Bunny Boo emotionlessly obeys and with motors and latex sounds, walks back inside to continue her duties.

As the men get out of the van, another car pulls up. Clint hops out to check on how things are going. “Sorry, I’m late, but traffic was terrible.” He shakes their hands saying, “Thanks for coming so quickly!”

“No problem, sir,” they smile broadly, “we got the robot back in working order and back to work.”

Clint’s heart and jaw drop, “W-w-what?”

“Yes, sir,” they say even more excitedly than before, “we found the problem with your rental and fixed it. No extra charge, just doing our job.”

Clint moves to walk past them, his anxiety that had quickly left has returned just as quickly. As he moves, the one man hands him a flash drive. “Here you go, sir.” Clint looks down at it. On the side of the red and gray flashdrive is one word: M.O.L.L.Y. As he stares at it, the other guy chimes in, “This is the database of your rental. We had to pull it all, so the computer assigns a name to the flashdrive from the most common word in the database.” Clint stands there, holding the woman he loves in his hand, not knowing what to say. “But don’t worry, we reinstalled her base programming and data from today.” Still numb from what just happened, Clint nods, turns, and walks into the house, holding the flashdrive like a fragile egg. The two men shrug their shoulders and get in their van. They still have several calls to make before quitting time.

Clint steps in the door. He sees Molly straightening up the living room. She seems alright, he reasons. Before he can speak, he hears his wife say weakly from upstairs, “Bunny Boo, I need you.” The robomaid stops and stands up stiffly, “Yes, Mistress. I am coming.” Clint is stunned now, and watches “Bunny Boo” walks past him, ignore him completely, climb the stairs, and walk towards his bedroom.

Once she is out of sight, he looks back at his hand with the flashdrive. In trying to cover his cheating relationship, he accidentally “maid” a mistake. Now, his mistress serves his wife and no one knows about it, except him. Can he live with that?