Charlie's Second-Hand Angel

Episode Two of 'Destined for the Junk Pile'
by  Fection

The voice inside the apartment door was not the one Camilla had expected to hear. To begin with it was a woman's.

"Just a second, honey!" the girl had called out from inside, a moment after Camilla's firm knock.

As she waited, Camilla pondered how Charlie could have found himself a new partner so quickly. It had been scarcely a month since their divorce, and in her admittedly subjective opinion, Charlie was hardly Prince Charming. Perhaps he had been able to patch things up with the 'other woman' somehow. Then Camilla remembered the other woman's parents had tracked her down and sent her away to a modeling college in Europe somewhere. For a moment she toyed with the thought that the woman might be Charlie's maid, but then it occurred to her that maids don't generally call their employer "honey". Her perplexed train of thought was interrupted when the door opened.

"What do you think of....Oh!" said a startled voice.

Camilla was suddenly face to face with a very attractive young woman, who's enthusiastic smile was already fading. The girl had long dark brown hair, and glistening brown eyes. She was wearing bright white high heels and a rather scant floral dress, which Camilla could only assume she had been expecting to model for Charlie. No doubt the brightly colored dress would have met with Charlie's approval. It revealed most of the girl's long, toned, shapely legs, and featured a low neck-line, exposing much of the young woman's conspicuously silicon-enhanced cleavage. The whole outfit seemed to be held up by a single fine strap that curved around the back of the girl's neck. There was no denying the young woman was strikingly attractive - a beacon of exotic beauty - if a little stereotypically so. She looked to have some Spanish blood, with those deep brown eyes and that olive complexion. Her hair was perfectly styled and shining with health. Her face too was stunning - flawlessly made up. And her body belonged in a fashion magazine - though with that enlarged bust, Camilla doubted the girl would fit into most cat-walk fashion.

There was an awkward pause.

"I think it looks wonderful." complimented Camilla eventually, though somewhat reluctantly. The girl still seemed startled.

"Who are you?" she asked, at last acknowledging that she did not recognize Camilla.

"I'm Camilla Harcourt, Charlie's ex-wife...." Camilla extended her right hand. "I take it he's not returned from work yet...." It seemed to Camilla that the girl was too preoccupied with taking in what Camilla had just said to offer her the courtesy of shaking her hand. Instead, the girl frowned and crossed her arms. It also occurred to Camilla that due to the size of the girl's bust, crossing her arms might prove a difficult task, but she seemed to manage it all right.

"That's right. He's not home yet." the shapely girl confirmed coldly.

"Well, I've arranged to meet him here after work. We've a few things to discuss relating to our divorce." continued Camilla.

The girl pouted a little suspiciously, and shifted her weight to one leg, staring defiantly at Camilla. Camilla was becoming increasingly annoyed. She waited, determined that the scantily clad brunette should speak next. As she waited, she decided the girl wore too much makeup, and had spent too much time at tanning clinics. The girl's skin now seemed unnaturally brown, and unnervingly radiant.

Eventually, Camilla's patience wore out.

"Well, do you know when he'll be in?" she inquired. She began to wonder if all conversations with this girl took this long. Camilla was surprised by the girl for once, who responded immediately.

"Charlie should be home shortly." she said. There was another pause. The girl flicked her head gently, tossing her hair gracefully off her shoulders. Then she continued staring.

"Well, would you mind if I waited for him inside?" suggested Camilla impatiently. Once again the inquiry seemed to be taking some considerable time to make sense to the attractive girl. Her mouth seemed poised to speak, but her now slightly glazed eyes just stared inertly. She said something quietly, that Camilla did not quite catch.

"Pardon me?" Camilla said, leaning forward a little, but the girl did not respond. Her plastic earrings glistened garishly as she continued staring with a somewhat startled expression. Shortly she smiled and chirped,

"Okay, sure Camilla!"

She stepped back and invited Camilla in. Camilla moved through the doorway finally into the apartment which, she immediately noticed, was remarkably tidier than when she last had had to visit Charlie. Gone were the dishes from the coffee table. Gone were the scattered pieces of clothing from the furniture, and floor. It actually seemed pleasant. Camilla also noticed that there no longer seemed to be that repugnant odor emanating from the kitchen area off to her left. Camilla's astonishment was distracted by the sound of the apartment door clicking firmly shut. She turned to face the voluptuous young woman, who was now smiling broadly. The girl had a nice smile, Camilla conceded. Having finally been allowed into the apartment, Camilla resolved to give the girl another chance.

"And what's your name?" Camilla asked, returning a friendly smile. The girl's brown eyes sparkled.

"Candice." she replied proudly, walking to the couch. She sat and crossed her legs elegantly, placing her hands one over the other on her knee, "but you can call me Candy."

Camilla restrained a laugh.

"Candy?" she repeated doubtfully. The girl nodded a couple of times, oblivious to Camilla's disbelief.

"Uh huh." the girl assured her. Camilla slowly found herself a seat opposite the elegantly poised woman and placed her briefcase uneasily beside her chair. Candy just sat there smiling, staring at Camilla with those deep brown sparkling eyes.

"So," Camilla started, "how long have you been living with Charlie?"

Candy shrugged, suddenly aloof.

"Oh, I dunno. Not long." she sighed. Her elevated foot began bouncing restlessly and she looked around the lounge in apparent disinterest. Camilla continued.

"How..." she paused, trying to be diplomatic, "How 'secure' are you in your relationship?"

This remark seemed to regain Candy's attention. She looked somewhat perplexed and put her head slightly to one side.

"What do you mean?" she asked, frowning faintly.

"What I mean to say is..." Camilla hesitated again, then decided to screw diplomacy. She sat forward in her chair. "The main reason Charlie and I divorced is because he was unfaithful." Camilla explained. Candy began smiling and nodding, a smug look of realization on her face. Camilla continued.

"How much do you trust him?" she pressed.

"I trust him very much." Candy assured Camilla, "We're very much in love. He gives me everything I need, and I give him everything he wants."

Camilla hesitated to be too judgmental, but the young woman really did give the impression of being a rather stereotypical 'bimbo'. It seemed to Camilla that the girl was reading a description of her relationship off the back of a sugary cereal box. Camilla persevered.

"Okay, but, he was unfaithful to me." she stressed again, "Doesn't that make you even a little concerned?"

The smug smirk on Candy's face didn't falter.

"Oh Charlie told me all about that." she explained, rolling her eyes, "and from the sound of it, the woman was actually a lot like me. Y'know. Young. Attractive. Quite a lot different to you. I think Charlie just needed a change."

It was clear to Camilla that the girl was speaking without the slightest hint of malice, but it was the fact that she was so utterly unaware of her remarks' tactlessness that made her all the more offensive. That the girl had only heard Charlie's side of the story bothered Camilla too. She could only gasp a disbelieving laugh. Naturally, Candy failed even to notice.

"Charlie says I'm the kind he really goes for." Candy continued. Her posture straightened a little as if to accentuate her preposterously proportioned figure. One hand moved delicately to her narrow waist.

"With a body like mine, I think I'll keep him around." she said playfully, for the first time displaying sarcasm. Camilla sat there, trying to restrain herself from clobbering the vacuous girl right then and there. Camilla decided instead that the girl needed her help.

"Candy, do your parents know you're here with Charlie?" she pried. Candy continued smiling, but for a moment did not seem to know how to reply.

"My parents?" she asked quizzically, her serene expression fading a little.

"Yes. Y'know. Your Mom and Dad." Camilla pressed, "Do they know you're here?"

Candy's mouth opened, but she failed to speak. She seemed confused by Camilla's simple inquiry. Her sparkling eyes glazed over slightly.

"Searching." she said flatly, staring straight through Camilla.

Now Camilla was confused.

"What, your parents are searching for you?" she proffered. Candy did not reply, staring vacantly. Camilla leaned further toward the obviously troubled young woman. "Candy, is that it? Are your parents looking for you?"

"Searching." Candy repeated, in that same uncharacteristically unenthusiastic tone. Then suddenly the focus returned to her eyes, and the smile to her face. "I finished college a couple years ago and have done the odd bit of modeling here and there," she explained, "but Charlie gives me something I've never got from any other man - real love." Candy beamed, clearly proud of her deep admiration for Charlie.

Camilla could not hide her bewilderment. It occurred to her that this girl might have been brainwashed. How else could they be talking about the same Charlie? And what was with her sugar-coated lines? Too many day-time soaps, Camilla decided. Perhaps she suffered some sort of mental illness. Camilla began to wonder if it was in fact Charlie that needed her help. She considered warning Charlie that he might be living with a dangerous psychotic, but then she decided that it might be more interesting not to warn him.

Candy looked about the room, disinterested once again.

"Well, it looks like Charlie might be running a little late," she sighed eventually, "so you'll excuse me if I do a little last minute cleaning, okay?"

In one fluid motion, she uncrossed her legs, leaned forward and stood elegantly, her hands poised delicately at her sides.

"But this place is spotless!" Camilla pointed out, looking around the room for any sign of untidiness. Candy smiled down at her serenely.

"Maybe to you, Camilla, but not to me." She turned, rounded the couch and headed across the room.

As Camilla watched the girl walk across the room, it struck her how even her movements seemed sugary-sweet. Her poised hands. The toe-heel steps of a trained model. She seemed to have a meticulous elegance that pervaded everything she did. The young woman opened a cupboard and removed the main section of a vacuum cleaner, placing it on the floor. While the girl was bent over, Camilla could see how even the contents of the cupboard were arranged neatly. The voluptuous brunette seemed to know exactly where each required piece was stored and as she repeatedly reached from cupboard to floor, assembling the machine, it occurred to Camilla that Candy seemed to be working like clockwork. Like a robot on a car production line. Camilla's train of thought was interrupted when a stack of magazines suddenly fell from a shelf in the cupboard above the studious girl. Camilla was secretly pleased and could not restrain a smirk when Candy cried out as the magazines scattered about her, immediately interrupting her efficient assembly of the vacuum cleaner.

"Oh gee! What a mess!" she gasped, noticeably and overly distressed, "And Charlie will be home soon, too!"

She bent down and began regathering the offending articles. Camilla got up quickly.

"Here, I'll give you a hand" she offered, crossing the room toward the deeply bronzed brunette. Camilla crouched down to the floor and likewise began collecting magazines and stacking them in a pile in front of her.

"Thank you so much." Candy sighed over appreciatively. Looking across at Camilla, and still bent forward, she was clearly unconscious of how obviously her breast implants showed. Camilla suddenly felt sorry for the young woman. What drove the young woman to want to please everyone? - even to the extent of having her body altered? - and at such a young age....The picturesque woman seemed sadly void of her true personality.

"That's no problem." Camilla assured her, trying to smile. She glanced down at yet another stray magazine that lay open on the floor. She was about to add it to the tidy pile in front of her, when the headline on the page to which it had fallen open caught her eye.

"This month's special feature," the headline read, "The All New Chantelle Series." It was the word 'Series' that intrigued Camilla. The page featured a large glossy photograph of a blond woman wearing only her black underwear whilst lying on a bed.

Frowning, Camilla checked the cover.

"AutoMates Inc." was the magazine's title. The cover featured a group of similarly tanned bikini-clad women, and the caption "The women of your dreams." Camilla flicked back to the page which had first grabbed her attention. She began to read the article. It opened with an introductory paragraph.

"Not since the Darlene 121 models has AutoMates Inc. put so many ground breaking innovations into one fantastic creation. From the Chantelle Entrancer model, right up to the luxurious Chantelle Xtasy 560, we've fashioned what we're calling.....'The Perfect Series'. Read on and discover......"

Camilla found that she couldn't in fact read on any further. She glanced feverishly at the array of photographs featured in the two page spread. All depicted the same attractive blond woman in various poses; Seated at a restaurant; Playing tennis; Kissing a man; Dusting an ornate china cabinet.

"Can I take those, Camilla?" Candy asked suddenly, distracting Camilla from the magazine. She was leaned forward with one hand outstretched to receive the small pile of magazines, the other clutching a larger stack at her bosom. The girl's blemishless smiling face was just inches from Camilla's. Staring into those glistening brown eyes, Camilla began to feel uneasy about how all too perfect they seemed. She managed a smile and cleared her throat.

"No, that's fine. I'll get them, Candy." she insisted.

The big breasted brunette was clearly a little surprised by the reply.

"Oh, okay." she chirped. The shapely young woman stood and returned her pile of magazines to their place on the cupboard's top shelf. Camilla watched her as she moved to the vacuum cleaner, delicately taking it's power cord and heading toward a power socket to plug it in - still moving with the same contrived elegance, an expression of overwhelming serenity on her flawless face.

Camilla looked back to the magazine once again and began flicking through the pages. Shortly she came to an alphabeticised section. Each page was highlighted by a new name - Barbera - Bianca - Blanche. Each featured a large photograph of the named woman, who was invariably mostly undressed, and a small section of text - presumably a profile of their more 'attractive characteristics'. Camilla continued flicking through the pages. She had heard from news reports in recent months of breakthroughs in cybernetic technology, but surely this had to be some sort of a joke. Or perhaps it was a novelty fantasy magazine. Nonetheless she continued. The names flashed by. Caitlan. Catherine. Darlene. Deborah. Camilla stopped abruptly and flicked back a few pages. Between Caitlan and Catherine, a page had been torn out.

Suddenly the vacuum cleaner started up. With a start, Camilla looked up. The brunette was bent forward with one hand placed delicately on top of the machine, the other taking hold of the cleaner's nozzle. Her sizable cleavage was clearly displayed.

The girl's ludicrous figure bore an alarming resemblance to those depicted in the magazine. Her body had the same blemishless complexion. An identical deep even tan. The same trim shapely legs, and an exaggerated pinched waist. And those breasts. They were so generously and shamelessly oversized. At that moment Candy looked across at Camilla and smiled. Camilla looked away, back at the magazine, and closed it, adding it finally to the pile in front of her. She closed her eyes for a second, and realized she was getting a little paranoid. There was nothing to say that Candy was one of these so-called 'AutoMates', if the magazine was even genuine. And where would Charlie find the money to buy one of these presumably priceless 'perfect women' anyway?

Camilla sighed and chuckled to herself, then took the pile of magazines and stood, moving to the cupboard. As she reached up to place them on the top shelf, she noticed Candy's name written below the shelf, on the back wall of the cupboard. A moment's closer inspection revealed that what Camilla had thought to be the back wall was in fact a large collapsed industrial cardboard box, folded up and resting at the back of the cupboard. Camilla noticed several markings on it.

"Hi there. I'm Candice." was printed on the large folded up box, just beneath a small clear plastic panel. Below that there was printed,

'Devonmall AutoMates Inc.' and, still further down and repeated off to the left side,

'Fragile. Electronics.'

Camilla gasped, and put her hands at her mouth. Her pile of precariously balanced magazines came tumbling back down around her.

Immediately the vacuum shut off. Camilla, still with her hands at her face, turned to face Candy who was approaching gracefully.

"Oh gee! What a mess!" Candy gasped, looking dispirited, "And Charlie will be home soon, too!" She bent forward at the waist and began collecting the magazines once again. Camilla eyed her suspiciously, then got an idea. She pushed the second stack of magazines down off the shelf. The scantily clad voluptuous girl had not yet rectified the first mess, but she stood and looked down around her.

"Oh gee! What a mess!" she gasped yet again, "And Charlie will be home soon, too!"

The emphasis and intonation were so noticeably identical to how she had made the same remark just moments earlier that it seemed as if Candy were replaying a recording. The girl leaned forward again and continued regathering the magazines. Camilla glanced once again at the large box folded up at the back of the cupboard. Something occurred to her.

"Candy?" she began firmly, "What's your last name?"

Candy was collecting the last of the magazines.

"What's that, Camilla?" she asked casually, though it was obvious that she must have heard the question. The voluptuous girl stood upright, still smiling serenely.

"What's your last name, Candy?" Camilla repeated, still more firmly.

"My last name, Camilla?" Candy asked, adopting her increasingly typical perplexed expression. Her head was slightly to one side, her arms crossed in front of her, clutching the magazines.

"Yes. You know. The name that comes after your first one?" Camilla demanded gruffly, "What's your last name?"

Once again the picturesque girl seemed unable to formulate a reply. Her deep brown eyes lost their focus. Her whole appearance suddenly seemed strangely and unnaturally inert.

"Hello? Anybody home?" Camilla pressed, tempted to wave a hand in front of the inanimate girl's face.

Shortly the girl spoke.

"Searching." she said softly, without expression. Camilla began to realize the significance of the word. She waited. After a moment the ridiculously proportioned girl spoke again.

"Searching." the statuesque brunette repeated automatically.

Then Camilla heard a sound that confirmed to her what she had suspected. A kind of mechanical buzz. It lasted only a moment, but Camilla was sure it came from inside the girl's body. A moment later the smile returned to that flawless face and those deep brown eyes refocused on Camilla.

"I'm Candice." the curvaceous brunette recited cheerfully, her enthusiastic eyes glistening with renewed playfulness, "but you can call me Candy." The caricature of feminine perfection then stepped past Camilla to the cupboard and returned the magazines once again to the top shelf.

Camilla was agape. She was now convinced that the unnaturally bronzed young woman was in fact nothing more than a life-sized Barbie-doll-like robot. Camilla watched the artificial 'dream girl' as she turned away and returned to the vacuum cleaner. Once there, the leggy brunette leaned forward from the waist, collecting the vacuum cleaner's hose in one hand, and reactivating the machine with the other, the girl's forward bent pose exposing her toned rear end for a moment. To Camilla, the girl's repeated body flaunting poses now seemed like an unconscious pre-programmed maneuver aimed at displaying as much of the robotic girl's cartoonish figure as possible - a figure of which her builders were undoubtedly so proud.

Camilla was annoyed that when she had earlier joked to herself about how the girl moved with uncanny robotic efficiency, she had failed to realize the simile was actually true. Camilla also suddenly realized that earlier she had actually felt sorry for the manufactured plaything. She knew now that the reason the vacuous nymph seemed so devoid of any personality was because it didn't even have one. Candy really was a robot. And most importantly of all - Charlie's robot. Though she knew she shouldn't care, this irritated Camilla more than anything. This big-breasted bionic bimbo was apparently Charlie's idea of the perfect woman! This made Camilla want to find out just how fragile the plastic girl's electronics were - by means of a large brick.

Returning to her seat and watching the idyllic fantasy girl continue her vacuuming, Camilla appreciated now just how things worked with 'Little Miss Perfect' around. The glorified Barbie-doll kept the apartment clean, kept herself pretty for Charlie, and gave him 'everything he wants', to use the charlatan's own words. Camilla was fast becoming furious - with Charlie, and with 'AutoMates Incorporated' for manufacturing such an unashamedly sexist reproduction of womanhood. She decided Charlie needed to be taught a lesson. She wasn't exactly sure what that lesson was, but she knew it involved getting the artificial archaic fantasy of a woman out of Charlie's life - preferably in several separate garbage bags. For a moment Camilla considered just prizing off the plaything's head with a large kitchen implement of some sort, but the prospect of then having to pay the bill lessened the impact of her protest somehow. And Charlie would simply be able to buy himself another 'dream girl'.

Perplexed, Camilla tried to come up with a way of taking the shapely doll out of the picture, without leaving any evidence of foul play. Eventually, she conceded that she would have to wait for another time, as Charlie was about to meet with her shortly, and if 'Little Miss Perfect' was in several smoldering pieces on his arrival home, Camilla would of course be prime suspect number one. Camilla could only sit and watch the long-legged, big breasted robo-bimbo continue vacuuming, blissfully unaware of how she offended Camilla so.

At that moment the phone rang. Immediately Candy leaned forward and delicately turned off the vacuum cleaner once again. As the machine ground to a halt, Camilla watched the shapely young woman walk toward the kitchen area at the far end of the room, and pick up the telephone receiver.

"Hello, Charlie's residence. Candice speaking." she chimed, her smooth, flawless back to Camilla. "Oh, hi honey!" she gasped excitedly.

Camilla glanced around the room and spied what she suspected was the door to the bedroom. Checking that Miss Perfect's faculties were completely engrossed in deep conversation with Charlie, she stood and moved quickly to the door. She pushed it open, moved inside and closed it behind her.

"Bingo!" she whispered, moving to the bed-side telephone. She picked it up gingerly and raised it to her ear.

"...has gone on longer than we'd expected, baby." Charlie was explaining, "So I'd like you to do me a favor, okay?"

"Uh-huh, anything." Candy gushed huskily from the other end.

"Well, with the meeting running late, I'd prefer not to have to pick up something to eat on my way home. I'd like you to cook me something, okay?"

"Uh-huh. What would you like?" Candy breathed.

"Thatta girl!" Charlie replied, "Surprise me. Just use the green cook-book, all right?"

As she listened, Camilla noticed a red sheet of paper lying beside the phone. She picked it up.

"Stop Press!" was printed in block letters across the top, "Quality second-hand AutoMates at bargain prices!" read the next line. Beneath that there were two columns of 'dream girl' names and serial numbers. Camilla noticed one was circled.

"Candice, Seductress Model." she read, "One owner. Excellent condition. Call Thomas at our Devonmall branch."

Now Camilla noticed a small jotter-pad, and beneath that what she quickly recognized as the missing page from the 'AutoMates Inc.' magazine. She picked this page up too. There she was, in only a tiny fluorescent green bikini, her unwieldy bust bulging out everywhere. Candy. Her hair was a different style - shorter, and teased untidily - but the resemblance was unmistakable. Below the photograph there were three paragraphs. While being careful to monitor the conversation still continuing between Charlie and his curvaceous trophy, Camilla began to read.

"With her year-round tan, and built-for-the-beach body, the 'Candy' series will appeal to the outdoor adventure seeker. Candy doesn't only look good on the sand......Now, with new Impulseals(tm) you can take her for a playful splash in the surf, or on an intimate stroll in the rain. Or if you're in an indoor mood, why not share a sensuous hot shower?"

This paragraph was immediately followed by a tiny asterisk. Camilla glanced to the bottom of the page to find an equally insignificant disclaimer.

"While the 'Candice' series is water resistant, total immersion in water is not recommended." Camilla made a mental note of that and continued reading the main text.

"But it's not just Candy's body that makes her so appealing. As you'd expect, with all that time spent at the beach getting the perfect tan, Candy doesn't care too much for boring reasoning and dizzying intellectualizations - she's the perfect beach bimbo! She much prefers just to have fun - a principle we're certain you'll more than approve of when you discover just what we mean by a body that's 'built for the beach'.

Candy's figure is clearly one intended for more revealing attire. Her 'dream-girl' contoured body features fantastic measurements - 39, 22, 36 - and is perfectly at home in the skimpiest swim wear. Candy's not built to be a genius with numbers, but we're sure you'll agree her voluptuous curves add up to fun, fun, fun! Check her out soon, at your nearest AutoMates Showroom."

The other side of the page featured more specific statistics, and prices of the different models. Camilla had to remind herself she was holding a live telephone receiver, and restrain a gasp at seeing the prices, some in excess of two hundred thousand dollars. She noticed however, that the 'Candice Seductress' was one of the cheaper models - more expensive than only the "Candice Entrancer'. She went to put both pages down, when she noticed the jotter pad again. It was covered in messy scribbles which Camilla recognized as Charlie's rushed dictation script.

"Candy Seduct." she began to decipher, "Re-cond. after mild short out (comp. overload) Programming intact. Difficulty with multiplication (irrep. circuit damage) Best avoid. All other func. 100%. Great body. Hou/wk programmed. Cash discount."

That was all. Charlie had presumably visited the Devonmall branch, made a deal, and the air headed artificial trinket of a woman in the other room had been delivered the next day.

"Difficulty with avoid" read Camilla again. Perhaps if the brunette dream girl in the other room had scrambled her circuits dealing with mathematics in the past, she could be led to do the same once again. Camilla's attention was suddenly turned back to the conversation drawing to a close on the phone receiver still pressed to her ear.

"Okay then, gotta go honey. I should be home in a couple hours or so." Charlie explained. Camilla noticed that Charlie had said he would be home late, but not that he would be late for his meeting with her. Could it be that he had forgotten about the appointment? If so, Charlie need never know Camilla had been there.

"Okay." Candy replied huskily, "I'll be waiting for you."

"all right babe. See you soon."

"I want you Charlie." Candy breathed softly. Camilla heard Charlie chuckle nervously.

"Okay, bye." He hung up.

Camilla put the receiver down, arranged the papers she had moved into the order she had found them and went back to the door. She opened it and stepped back into the lounge area. The artificial young woman had returned to the vacuum cleaner and seemed surprised to see Camilla emerging from the bedroom.

"I was just using the toilet." Camilla explained quickly as she sat down again. Candy absorbed that for a moment, then smiled and leaned forward, dismantling the vacuum cleaner. As Camilla watched the curvaceous creation pack the machine away, the tropically bronzed brunette appeared all the more startlingly artificial. That mysterious meticulous elegance now seemed mechanically conceived - every move elegantly poised for maximum visual appeal. Camilla started to wonder how she had even been taken in by the absurdly fantastical figure of the girl to begin with. Her outlandish body really did look like a life sized Barbie doll, and even her over-tanned complexion now appeared to exhibit an unnatural sheen.

By now Candy had finished putting the machine back in it's cupboard. Camilla watched the robotic young woman delicately close the door to the cupboard, then walk to the far end of the apartment, around the kitchen counter into the black and white tiled kitchen area - every move made as if she were modeling on an invisible cat-walk. Camilla wanted so much to see that plastic caricature of femininity in several inelegant, broken pieces. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became that Charlie had simply forgotten about their meeting. Which meant, provided she was gone before Charlie arrived home, Little Miss Perfect was fair game. There was just the small problem of leaving no evidence of foul play....

Camilla stood and, feigning disinterest, wandered over to the counter that divided off the kitchen from the rest of the apartment.

"So, who was that on the phone?" she asked casually.

Candy was half bent over a drawer on the opposite side of the counter, leafing through the drawer's contents - her unavoidable, over-inflated bust once again on display. She removed a small green book and pushed the drawer shut with her other hand.

"Oh, It was Charlie. He's running late." replied the girl, rolling her eyes and sighing, "He works so hard, the poor guy." She then placed the book on the kitchen counter and began flicking through the pages curiously.

"So, what did he want?" Camilla pressed. Candy replied without looking up,

"He wanted me to cook him dinner." She stopped searching through the recipe book, her deep brown eyes staring down at it while she held the pages carefully open with her impeccably manicured hands.

"Oh, that's nice. What are you going to cook?" Camilla asked.

Candy was frowning a little, still looking at the book.

"I think I'll cook him lasagna." she replied. She looked up, her flawless face suddenly excited.

"Charlie really likes lasagna!" the attractive girl explained clearly. "Uh-huh, lasagna it is."

"Right." Camilla breathed uneasily, trying - but failing - to look like she shared Candy's excitement. Candy returned her attention to the recipe book.

Suddenly Camilla got an idea - an idea that would test the beach bimbo's mathematical skills.

"How many people does the recipe serve?" she asked innocently.

"All the recipes in this book are meals for one." Candy replied, in deep consternation surveying the list of ingredients. Camilla frowned in feigned curiosity.

"But wont you be having any?" she asked. Candy looked up again and placed each of her hands on either side of her slender waist.

"Oh no." she gasped, clearly outraged, "I like to watch my figure." She resumed reading the recipe. Camilla thought for a moment.

"Candy," she began. Candy looked up again, utterly failing to look the slightest bit annoyed, as any real person would after being distracted so repeatedly. Camilla continued, "Waiting so long for Charlie's made me really hungry. Would it be too much trouble if I stayed for dinner as well?"

Candy just stared. Camilla waited. It took her a moment to realise that her request had completely immobilised the vacuous girl once again.

"Searching." the stunning brunette droned vacantly. Shortly that serene smile returned to her face.

"Oh sure, Camilla! You'd be more than welcome!" Candy gushed, her eyes sparkling playfully.

"Great." said Camilla, smiling. She composed herself and said very clearly, "So, just make a double serving, okay?"

Candy's smile faltered a little. Her head cocked to one side.

"A double serving?" she repeated, looking confused but still trying to smile.

"Yes." explained Camilla slowly, "Just double all the ingredients."

Candy just stared again. Camilla was desperately trying to think of the simplest way to put it.

"Times by two." she blurted suddenly.

She watched the voluptuous young woman take in her explanation. From Candy's expression it seemed that the shapely machine's processors were once again having some difficulty formulating a reply. Her eyebrows were raised a little, her mouth opened slightly and her eyes unfocused in an altogether dumbfounded expression. Camilla began to suspect that the mere mention of multiplication had been enough to fuse the vacuous robot's brain, when the inanimate brunette spoke softly.

"Processing" she murmured automatically, still staring vacantly straight through Camilla. Camilla could imagine cogs ticking over feverishly in the young woman's brain. Suddenly that familiar playful smile returned to the robotic girl's face.

"Oh, I see!" she laughed in realization, her sparkling eyes rolling, "Times by two." The gorgeous young woman looked back down at the recipe book.

"Okay, so... eighty grams of lasagna." she read softly, immediately shaking her head and sighing, "No, that's too tough for me." She looked up, her eyes rolling in artificial embarrassment.

"I'm such an air-head!" she gasped, asking, "What's eighty times two, Camilla?"

The busty brunette stared, her head at a slight angle, awaiting the information with an expectant smile. It seemed a little ironic to Camilla that out of the two of them, it was the one with a computer mother-board for a brain that couldn't do mathematics. Still, that's how the 'perfect beach bimbo' was designed, so Camilla wasn't about to let her off the hook easily. She just shrugged, and lied.

"I don't know. You tell me. What's eighty times two, Candy?"

For the second time, Candy seemed a little taken aback by Camilla's reply.

"Gee, I never was too good with math." she explained, with a nervous laugh and she looked back down at the book in front of her. The fingernails of her right hand began tapping on the counter rhythmically.

"Eighty times two...Hmm....eighty times two..." she murmured softly. This presumably was when the helpless plaything's owner was expected to offer assistance, but Camilla declined. Candy's plastic earrings jangled uneasily. Camilla just waited as the attractive brunette lapsed into silence. She suddenly realized the curvaceous robot was once again completely inert. This time Camilla did not resist the temptation to wave her hand in front of the attractive girl's vacant face. Unsurprisingly, there was no response.

"Processing." the robotic young woman said flatly. Camilla was startled a little by a familiar but sudden mechanical buzz sounding from within the girl. However, where previously the voluptuous robot-bimbo had immediately sprung back to life, this time she remained immobile, just staring down at the recipe book with that same perplexed expression.

"Processing." The dream girls' lips were all that moved, mouthing the word automatically. There was yet another mechanical buzz from inside the girl's body, and when it was followed briefly by an abrupt abrasive crunching noise, Camilla could not help but wince. Candy's head twitched and she blinked, then finally that characteristic serene smile returned to her face. Her glistening eyes focused blissfully on Camilla.

"Eighty times two is one hundred and sixty." she gushed proudly, as if she deserved applause. Getting none, she turned away and stepped elegantly to the other side of the kitchen area, where she opened the pantry.

Camilla watched as she bent forward slightly, the back of her floral skirt lifting to reveal even more of those bronzed trim plastic legs of which the people at 'AutoMates Inc.' were presumably so proud. The girl's blemishless, deeply tanned, contoured back glistened unnaturally in the fluorescent lighting. Shortly the shapely female robot stood, turned to face Camilla and returned to where the recipe book lay on the counter - her gravity defying bust bobbing with each step. Once returned, she carefully placed a small packet of lasagna which she had retrieved from the pantry onto the counter, then delicately pointed her right index finger to the recipe book and continued reading.

"Now, forty grams of tomato paste." she chimed confidently, "Hmm....Forty times two...." Almost immediately she shrugged and gasped "Well, I dunno." then predictably looked across to Camilla again.

"What's forty times two, Camilla?" the automated bimbo asked, frowning quizzically and awaiting a reply. Once again Camilla just smiled back and said,

"Gee, I dunno Candy. What is forty times two?"

Candy stared, dumbstruck for a moment, then her brown eyes looked upward as if thinking. She brought her right index finger up to her bottom lip in yet another transparent attempt to strengthen the illusion that the 'AutoMate' was deep in thought and in need of assistance.

"Gee, I never was too good with math." Candy breathed, still looking upward, in fraudulent consternation. Camilla just waited - she could guess what was coming next.

Shortly the hand that was raised to the robot girl's chin lowered slowly, but then it jerked to a standstill a few inches from her face. The increasingly artificial appearing 'dream girl' was completely inactive yet again. To Camilla the vacant brunette seemed posed like a store-window mannequin - one that was obviously advertising silicon breast implants.

"Processing." the life sized figurine recited coldly. Immediately there was another mechanical buzz from inside the girl's chest. The statuesque brunette remained inactive, bar speaking again.

"Processing." she repeated instantly. The buzzing also repeated, followed again by a crunching sound, even more abrasive than before. Immediately she smiled dreamily at Camilla.

"Forty times two is eighty." she breathed softly, her right hand lowering daintily to her side finally. She turned away, faced the refrigerator on the far side of the kitchen, stepped gracefully toward it, delicately pulled the refrigerator door open and leaned forward. Camilla felt that the shapely robot was due for yet another taxing mathematical problem and glanced down at the recipe book, turning it around to face her.

"While you're there," she began, "the recipe here says you need twenty grams of cheese."

Candy was bent over provocatively, away from Camilla, in her characteristic leg-flaunting pose, with one hand resting gently on the open refrigerator door, the other outstretched toward the top shelf of the appliance.

"Uh huh." replied Charlie's 'perfect woman', her outstretched hand rising to her face. "Gee - twenty times two - that's a tough one." she sighed.

"Yeah." Camilla agreed, pre-emptively asking, "What is twenty times two, Candy?"

"Twenty times two is...Ummm..." sighed the crookedly posed 'dream girl'. Her dark brown trusses bounced in waves as she shook her head. "Boy, I'm such a bimbo..."

Ignoring the AutoMate's pre-programmed ploy to illicit her help, Camilla continued.

"Oh, and don't forget the tomato paste." she reminded the buxom young woman, "It says forty grams here, but we have to times that by two, don't we?" she pointed out.

"Forty times two....Hmm...Forty times two..." Candy chimed thoughtfully, her hand reaching back toward the top shelf of the refrigerator.

"Yes, what is forty times two, Candy?" Camilla pressed, checking the recipe book for more ingredients, before Candy could reply, "Oh! And one egg - but don't forget to times that by two." she blurted.

"Okay, so...One times two is....Umm..." Candy lilted automatically and her outstretched arm lowered to the bottom shelf of the refrigerator.

"Gee, I'm getting confused." she said, as if only just realizing the fact - It seemed an obvious understatement to Camilla, "How many eggs do I need?" Candy asked, still leaning forward toward the refrigerator. Camilla just sighed and said,

"I dunno, Candy. What's one times two?"

Camilla almost felt embarrassed asking the question, doubting that such a simple calculation could be too troublesome - even for the 'perfect beach bimbo'.

"One times two is..." the attractive young woman began confidently. Camilla was surprised when there was suddenly a faint crackling from inside the robot girl.

"Forty times two is..." said the girl, and her outstretched hand rose smoothly back toward the top shelf, only to jerk to a halt as another internal crackle sounded.

"Twenty times two is..." continued the young woman, and her arm lowered indecisively.

The confident, cheerful chime seemed to be fading from the shapely woman's voice, and the jerky, mechanized movement of her arm repeatedly raising and lowering betrayed the true origin of her mystical elegance. To Camilla she seemed like a clockwork toy - one that had obviously thrown a spring or two. There was yet another sharp crackle from inside the robot girl, and for a moment a faint flash of light showed through the flawless skin of her back.

The attractive young woman suddenly sprung to attention and whirled around, her floral skirt rippling daintily. She was smiling triumphantly, a single egg held carefully between the thumb and index finger of her right hand. She strode elegantly toward Camilla, those over-sized, plastic mammaries bobbing softly as she walked. Camilla felt compelled to call out.

"Oh, don't forget to times that by two." she began, "And what about the tomato paste, and cheese?" Then she added mercilessly, "Forty grams and twenty grams respectively - both times two."

Candy ground to an awkward, abrupt halt in the middle of the kitchen, her serene expression faltering.

"Searching..." she droned vacantly. A mechanical buzzing sounded briefly from inside her chest once again. Her soft brown eyes blinked repeatedly for a moment then she smiled playfully, apparently unaware of the problems her straining circuits were experiencing.

"Oh yeah! I must have forgotten." she explained, her deep brown eyes rolling in artificial embarrassment, "I'm such an air-head!"

Predictably, Candy's eyes looked upward and her right hand raised automatically toward her chin. However, while clearly attempting to adopt her patented 'help me - I'm thinking' expression, she failed to take the egg into account, and it cracked against her chin, shattering and spilling down her hand onto her bust below. Surprisingly, she failed even to appear to notice, which betrayed to Camilla the worsening state of the robot girl's inner workings. The tanned, shapely girl just stood there looking thoughtfully upwards with her index finger at her bottom lip and pieces of egg shell sliding inexorably down between her ludicrously pert breasts.

"One times two is....." she breathed huskily, and Camilla saw a flash of sparks illuminate the dream girl's perfectly contoured chest from within. The girl's serene expression twitched unnaturally for a moment - an eyebrow flickered, eyelids fluttered, the mouth sneered - then the composure returned to her face and she smiled yet again.

"Twenty times two is..." the over-sexualized AutoMate continued, cut short by a sharp internal crackle. Her flawless face once again contorted involuntarily for a moment, and her shamelessly over-endowed torso lurched awkwardly back, sending it's bulbous breasts bouncing.

A soft electronic beeping began to emit from inside the curvaceous brunette Barbie-doll and Camilla thought she noticed the faint odor of burning plastic in the air. Candy frowned and her raised hand moved smoothly to the side of her head.

"Forty times twenty is..." began the automated plaything, interrupted yet again by a flash of internal sparks. Her body lurched, her head twitched, her eyes crossed for a moment, then she smiled awkwardly and continued.

"Twenty times one is..." she chimed, sparks crackling within her. The hand that was raised to the side of her head jerked suddenly into motion, lowering stiffly. Camilla could make out continuous flashes beneath the plastic skin of her upper body.

"Forty times forty is..." The brunette's stunning face twitched with each internal flash. Camilla now noticed faint wisps of smoke appearing from between Candy's long brown, perfectly styled and superbly conditioned, trusses. The pungent smell of burning electronics was strengthening in the air.

There was yet another loud grinding sound from within the girl, and she sprung into motion, pacing awkwardly toward Camilla. Though the kitchen counter was between them, Camilla felt compelled to back away from the starry-eyed overheating pleasure toy as it bumped awkwardly into the counter. Whilst still emitting that tell-tale beeping, the manufactured malfunctioning nymph had also begun to emit an electrified crackling fizzle. To Camilla, it sounded remarkably like the glorified sex doll had just drunk a large jug of water.

"I'm such an air-head." the AutoMate breathed dreamily - once again stating what had been clear to Camilla for some time. She turned stiffly counter-clockwise and stepped laboriously toward the refrigerator, her rather dated white high heels clicking an uneven rhythm against the tiled floor. After bumping into the large appliance, she came to an awkward stand-still once again.

"Don't you just love my boobs?" Candy asked, presumably addressing the inanimate machine. Getting no reply, she turned swiftly and headed toward the pantry, her expansive breasts bouncing with each jerky step. The robot girl jerked to a halt as she bumped clumsily into the closed cupboard.

"I'm just such a bimbo." lilted the electronically beeping brunette blissfully, and she spun around, her skirt flicking up off her curvaceous hips for a moment. She walked back across the kitchen toward Camilla. She took only three steps, before grinding to a halt in the center of the kitchen, still smiling serenely, beeping and fizzling continuously.

"My body is just so great!" she proclaimed proudly as the crackling internal sparks intensified. Her torso began twitching repeatedly.

"I'm such an air..head." repeated the faltering 'perfect beach bimbo' yet again. Her deep brown eyes seemed dreamily excited as her head wobbled uneasily.

"I've got the per..fect..body." the AutoMate stammered unevenly. Two steady plumes of smoke were now clearly visible at either side of the robot's pretty head as it twitched and wobbled atop a body that continued lurching backward and forward.

"I" stuttered the smoldering, beeping, twitching girl with apparent effort. Suddenly the all-too-confusable bimbo emitted that familiar abrasive grinding crunch - louder than ever before. Her back arched tightly, her egg-shell spattered bust bulging forward. Her toned arms stiffened, pointing at the ground. Her face contorted inhumanly - her eyes wide and crossed, her mouth an unnaturally twisted snarl. To Camilla the impression was of a beautiful celebrity's worst ever paparazzi photograph. The malfunctioning robot remained rigid - as if standing at attention grotesquely - as the grinding intensified. For a moment the abrasive sound faltered as if the teeth of grinding cogs were half catching each other. Then it abruptly stopped. Candy was completely inanimate, smoke issuing steadily from both ears.

Camilla waited for a moment, half expecting the inert creation to suddenly spring back to life. Eventually Camilla moved from behind the counter and nervously approached the broken-down 'Seductress'. Camilla could still hear a faint fading hiss, and the occasional crackle from inside that busty torso, but the supposedly 'perfect beach bimbo' remained frozen in that sadly unflattering pose. The thought of Charlie coming home to find that his request for a cooked dinner had fused his plaything's circuits, filled Camilla with the deepest sense of satisfaction - and there was no evidence to suggest that Camilla had even been there! Camilla suddenly remembered her briefcase, and retrieved it from the lounge, then looked the grotesquely posed, defunct pleasure doll up and down one last time.

"You would have been sooooo embarrassed." Camilla mused, rolling her eyes in a Candyesque fashion. She was startled by a sudden flash of sparks within the plaything, followed by several subsequent smaller crackles, but the 'dream girl' remained inert - it's sugary brown eyes crossed and unlively. Camilla smiled and departed, closing the apartment door firmly behind her.

The expired AutoMate remained immobile in the silence of the apartment. Gradually the plumes of smoke issuing from the robot girl's ears waned, and eventually disappeared.

About two hours later, the profound silence of the apartment was broken by a key turning in the lock of the apartment door. The door opened and a slightly over-weight man in a slightly under-size business suit entered. Rubbing his eyes, he tossed his briefcase and jacket onto the couch as he made his way across the apartment toward the bedroom. He did not seem to notice the inanimate AutoMate standing in the kitchen at the other end of the apartment. Instead, he disappeared through the bedroom door.

"Candy?" he called from the bedroom a moment later. Immediately there was a small flash of sparks from inside the immobile brunette. A mechanical buzz sounded, followed by several short bleeps.

"Can I smell dinner burning?" called the man from the bedroom, emerging into the lounge a moment later, removing his tie. Candy emitted a brief electric hum, then suddenly the voluptuous young woman sprung back to life, smiling excitedly.

"Charlie!" she gasped, her eyes wide and enthusiastic. "How was your day, honey?" she asked, stepping from the kitchen.

"Oh, there you are, honey." said Charlie, noticing her finally, "Oh, fine - I guess. Is something burning?" he asked.

"Uh-uh." replied Candy, shaking her head mischievously as she approached.

Charlie smiled, threw his tie onto the back of the couch and walked toward his beautiful, perfect partner. They embraced and kissed, the buxom beauty moaning responsively. Shortly Charlie broke away from the kiss, and just stared into Candy's exotic brown eyes, holding her shoulders in each hand. He smiled.

"You are so gorgeous." he murmured sincerely. Candy's stunning eyes sparkled contentedly. Charlie frowned suddenly, staring down at the girl's cleavage.

"What's this?" he said, pointing at her right breast. Candy looked down at her over-sized brown bust. Charlie had noticed the spatters of egg and shell. He chuckled.

"Have a little accident cooking dinner?" he quipped. Candy looked up at Charlie and smiled sweetly.

"Oh, Charlie. You're so funny." she gushed, clearly mistaking Charlie's remark for an actually humorous joke. Charlie felt suddenly aware of the artificialness of the adoring girl as he stared into those perfect brown eyes. He looked away, across at the kitchen.

"So, what's for dinner then?" he asked, distracting himself. Candy did not reply. Charlie looked back at her. She was staring at him, trying to smile, but looked faintly confused.

"Dinner?" she breathed eventually.

"Yes. What did you cook for dinner?" he pressed. Candy went to speak, but froze. It took Charlie a moment to realize what had happened.

"Oh, no. Don't do that." he whined, snapping his fingers in front of the vacant girl's eyes, "Hello? Hello?"

"Searching..." the inanimate girl droned. Charlie sighed and waited patiently.

"Searching..." Candy repeated a short while later. A mechanical buzz emitted from the girl, then her eyes grew wide in realization.

"Oh gee! I must have forgotten." she gasped. She frowned, and shook her head, adding, "I'm such an air-head."

"You forgot?" said Charlie, outraged. Candy nodded shyly.

"Uh-huh. I'm sorry honey." she purred, leaning forward to kiss Charlie again, "Let me make it up to you." He pulled away, frowning.

"How could you forget?" he continued, "For goodness sake - you're a robot, right? You shouldn't just forget things!"

"I know." she sighed apologetically, putting her arms around his neck, "I'm just such a bimbo."

"That's becoming painfully obvious." said Charlie under his breath. He pulled her caressing arms away. "You know, I sometimes wonder how good a job Thomas' people did putting your brain back together."

Candy's confused expression did a lot to confirm Charlie's suspicion.

"Christ! I must have told you half a dozen times on the phone - just use the green cook book." Charlie continued, "How many times did I have to remind you?" Candy just stared blankly. Charlie turned away, frustrated.

"How many times?" he repeated softly to himself, flabbergasted.

"How many times?" the voluptuous brunette chimed back. Charlie turned to face her again. She was now smiling excitedly - utterly failing to look the least bit sorry.

"Yes - how many times?" Charlie fumed. He suddenly noticed a faint odor again and looked toward the kitchen.

"Forty times two is..." began his perfectly formed partner. Charlie wasn't paying attention, sniffing the air instead.

"Shh. Can you smell something?" he asked, still looking curiously in the direction of the kitchen.

"Twenty times two is..." his voluptuous robot continued. Charlie stepped away quickly.

"Is something burning?" he asked, moving into the kitchen.

"One times two is..." Candy continued blissfully, staring into the empty space where Charlie had been. There was another mechanical buzz inside her, then her chest was briefly incandescent as a burst of sparks flashed within it.

"Forty times two is..." the serenely staring brunette repeated. By now Charlie had checked the oven for heat, to no avail. He returned to the lounge.

"Can you smell that?" he asked his luscious robotic playmate.

"Twenty times two is..." replied the sensuous girl, still staring blissfully. Charlie frowned and approached her.

"What did you say?" he asked, the burning odor becoming more noticeable.

"One times two is..." Candy lilted clearly. That mechanical buzzing sounded once again from inside her.

"Candy? Are you okay?" Charlie asked nervously. Immediately a flash of sparks inside his costly second-hand AutoMate suggested that she was, in fact, not okay. Her pretty face twitched and Charlie noticed a wisp of smoke trailing from her left ear.

"Forty times twenty is.." she continued, smiling sweetly as a soft electronic beeping began to emit from her curvaceous torso. Charlie swore, and Candy's stunning face contorted for a moment, another flash showing through the skin of her chest. Charlie could now make out a faint fizzling sound. He took the stunning brunette's shoulders firmly in each hand and shook her gently.

"Candy!" he demanded. She was staring right through him.

"Twenty times one is..." the robot girl replied, interrupted by an internal crackle. Candy's voluptuous torso jerked back of it's own volition, her expansive, pert breasts bouncing in front of Charlie for a moment.

"No, Candy. No!" Charlie stressed, "That's multiplication. Thomas said you're not supposed to do that, okay?"

"Forty times forty is..." she continued nonetheless. There was another crackle, a mechanical hum, followed by an expensive sounding crunch. Candy's back arched, thrusting her bulging bust forward. Her normally beautiful face was suddenly distorted. One eyebrow was raised, the other lowered. Her eyes were crossed - one eyelid wide open, the other half closed. And those luscious lips were stretched into an inhuman sneer.

Charlie backed away involuntarily from the internally grinding pleasure droid, as white smoke began issuing steadily from both her ears. Suddenly there was a sharp bang and something clattered softly to the ground behind the 'dream girl'. A thick cloud of smoke billowed up from behind the voluptuous robot girl as a degree of serenity returned to the plaything's face - those soft brown eyes, glassy and distant.

"I am so gorgeous." she purred contentedly.

Charlie wasn't exactly sure what had happened, but then, as the scantily clad brunette turned stiffly toward the kitchen, it became clear. A section of her skin about four inches square was missing from the middle of her back. A silver cylinder suspended on telescopic railings and connected to smoking electronics was protruding from the cavity. She stepped quickly away, leaving Charlie in her smoke filled wake. Glancing down at the floor, Charlie noticed a square section of rubber lying near where she had been standing. He collected it and went after his faltering dream girl.

"Candy." began Charlie, rushing to her side and walking with her, "Just calm down, all right?"

The luxuriantly proportioned brunette failed even to acknowledge him and continued walking forward, her generous cleavage bobbing in time. Her eyes were wide and unnervingly doll-like. Charlie stopped, watching the malfunctioning AutoMate continue into the kitchen alone. She walked directly into the refrigerator, bouncing off of it and turning clockwise awkwardly.

"I am perfect." said the clearly erroneous robot girl as she stepped with renewed vigor across the kitchen. Charlie went quickly to the telephone and desperately dialed a number as his malfunctioning sexy android bumped into the opposite wall, a burst of blue sparks showering from the exposed mechanism protruding from her back.

"I am your AutoMate." she explained, spinning around again and pacing quickly toward the sink. Charlie heard someone answer his call.

"Welcome to Devonmall AutoMates," said a sultry woman's voice, "Rebecca speaking."

"Hi, I need to speak to Thomas." Charlie demanded, as Candy walked clumsily into the kitchen counter, beeping and sparking increasingly regularly.

"One moment please." replied 'Rebecca' softly.

"I am justabimbo." said Candy quickly. The voluptuous girl began to turn clockwise but instead suddenly jerked around in the opposite direction, her floral skirt flicking indecisively. Charlie meanwhile, had been put on hold, listening to advertisements for the latest AutoMate models. As he waited he watched Candy bustle to and fro around the kitchen. Her deeply tanned, shapely legs - the curves of her hips, and narrow waist - and her oversized bouncing breasts, of which he'd grown so fond - it all seemed to be failing. That perfectly formed luscious body bumped into the counter again and turned away, the grotesque smoldering mechanism in her back confirming to Charlie that the sensuous exotic beauty really was just a machine.

"Iamprogrammedtoobey." said the doll automatically, pacing rapidly toward the pantry, into which she collided - bust first - a moment later.

"IamaCandriceSeductress." she recited as she whirled around and walked quickly toward Charlie. Charlie found himself recoiling away from the wide eyed smoldering brunette again, then she suddenly ground to a halt amidst a flash of sparks.

"Iamoverheating." trilled the big breasted brunette. The beeping emitting from her suddenly began to rise in pitch, causing Charlie to cover one ear with his free hand, the other with the phone receiver. There was another shower of sparks, and several subsequent electrical crackles. Candy's torso lurched back, then bounced forward.

"Iamoverloading." she declared, leaned slightly forward, as if finally weighed down by the size of her bust. Several bright flashes filled the kitchen. The beeping rose to a piercing crescendo.

"Iamprogrammedtoloveyou." blurted the AutoMate, before a final distinctive 'pop' sounded. Charlie, who realized he had closed his eyes, could still hear Candy speaking.

"..programmed to love you..." she said. There was a sharp fizzle then she spoke again.

"...programmed to love you..." Charlie heard the same fizzling sound, and she repeated the words over again. He opened his eyes nervously.

The picture perfect shapely girl was frozen, posed crookedly, looking slightly down at the floor. Only her lips moved, mouthing the same sentence clearly over and over. Charlie was distracted by someone speaking suddenly from the other end of the telephone.

"Hi, Thomas speaking." said a voice. Charlie tried to compose himself.

"Oh, Yeah. Hi, Thomas. Ah..It's Charlie Harcourt here..." he began.

"Charlie! How are you? Hey, how's that little princess of yours doing?" Thomas replied.

Charlie hesitated, looking across at his costly voluptuous investment.

"Not too well, actually." he mumbled.

"Oh. Blown a servo has she? Not to worry. All covered in the warranty." Thomas explained. Charlie was still surveying the girl. Standing immobile like a mannequin, her tanned contoured body seemed suddenly too sleek. She really was plastic. With her trim, athletic calves, curvaceous thighs, her pinched waist and firm bulbous breasts, she was still just a machine.

"..programmed to love you...programmed to love you...programmed to love you..." the AutoMate repeated, still staring - those exotic brown eyes vacant, like a doll's.

"Actually, Thomas..." began Charlie, still gazing at the broken-down sensuously formed robotic woman, "I was wondering if there was anything like a thirty-day money back guarantee...."

The End.

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