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"Kenzi-bot? Who's that?" I hear you cry:

Sense Perception 9 - Kenzi-botGeorge nervously tapped his foot as he waited for Kenzi to reach the front door. His wife, Chloe, was in the lounge believing she was a mannequin—a mannequin who was being pleasured thoroughly by an improbably large dildo. Given the situation, George wasn’t sure how to handle their guest's arrival.Kenzi had been introduced to the couple in an unusual way. Whilst walking her dog, she’d seen George enjoying a sexual encounter with his wife, naked in the woods. However, Kenzi had no recollection of seeing him, or her for that matter. George had wiped her memory and made himself and his wife invisible to her. So instead of this lewd encounter, Kenzi's first memory of the couple was when they appeared “by magic” in front of her till at the supermarket.George had learned three things from meeting Kenzi. One: he could affect other people’s realities. Two: he could affect memories. Three: the effects he created in people’s minds lasted many hours - perhaps indefinitely.George quickly nipped back into the lounge to check Chloe was ok. The dildo that was travelling relentlessly through her body was on its way back down. “You ok if I leave you here for a bit, babe?” George enquired caringly.Chloe’s eyes flashed green to say, “Yes.”She was in seventh heaven and never wanted it to stop.So George returned to the front door just as Kenzi knocked to announce her arrival.“Hey, Kenzi!” said George welcomingly. “So glad you came!”“Hi George,” said Kenzi shyly, much less sure of herself. “Let me take your coat,” he offered. Kenzi declined sheepishly. “No, it’s ok, thanks. I’ll keep it on for now.”“Ok…” said George, somewhat taken aback. “Let’s go to the kitchen and have a chat.”Kenzi followed George down the short corridor to the kitchen. They perched at the breakfast bar on adjacent stools. Kenzi looked furtive as if having second thoughts.“So, Kenzi,” said George, trying to make her comfortable again, “Tell me a little about yourself.”Kenzi nervously reeled off numerous details about her life, as if she was in an interview and was reciting her resume. In the space of under two minutes, George learned that Kenzi is a 23 year old Ukranian immigrant with a dog called Rusty who she considers her only real friend, so far away from home. She worked in the supermarket to make ends meet, but was studying psychology online in the evenings. George’s ears pricked up at this. A psychologist’s perspective could be very interesting with the way he could bend minds. He stored this nugget of information for future use and let her continue.She absolutely loved magic. Ever since she was a little child watching TV shows of great magicians she had always felt a huge thrill when presented with something that tricked her mind.George listened intently as Kenzi described her fascination. He couldn’t help but feel that there was something she was withholding; it all felt rather superficial. Still, he supposed that was to be expected as they’d only just met. It became clear that she’d come around this evening because she wanted to see some magic. So who was George to deny her?“Ok Kenzi. First let me get you a drink - anything you like.”“Oh, do you have Coke? Or water if not.” she asked, innocently trying to avoid being a burden.“Come now; I can pour you anything you like! What’s the most exotic drink you can think of?”Poor Kenzi was on the spot, feeling like a fish out of water. But she’d been listening to songs as she walked over to George’s apartment, and the last song she heard was still ear-wormed into her mind. “Pina Colada?” “I never knew you liked Pina Coladas!” replied George, quoting the song enthusiastically. Then, subtly commanded, “When you next use the kitchen tap, you’ll get cool Pina Colada rather than water.”He handed Kenzi an empty glass and motioned towards the sink, “Go on,” he encouraged, waiting to see if it worked.Kenzi clumsily lifted herself off the stool, holding her glass in one hand and her coat tight across her waist with the other.George was certain he caught a glimpse of skin beneath her coat. What was she wearing? He was intrigued.Kenzi got to the sink, held her glass beneath the tap and turned the handle. To her delight, cool Pina Colada poured from the faucet. The icy drink filled her glass and she breathed in the tropical scent. She swirled her drink, savouring the sensation of the cold glass on her hand, then took a slurp. She’d only had such a drink once before on a holiday as a teenager, which brought all those memories flooding back.“How on earth?” she asked George with incredulity, both amazed and dumbfounded. She squatted down and opened the cupboard under the sink, looking for a tank or something to see how it was done.George just smiled. Kenzi was just drinking water, not that it looked, smelled or tasted like that to her. It dawned on him that his power could save a fortune in entertainment costs. He could host the most lavish dinner party whilst serving his guests toast and water. Heck, maybe he could get away without serving anything at all!“Ok, that’s pretty cool,” Kenzi said, impressed. “Pleeeeease tell me how it’s done!” she pleaded like a child begging to be allowed to stay up late.“Whoa there, a great magician never reveals his tricks,” George joked, getting into character. “Would it surprise you to know I’ve only been doing magic for a few days?”George was never good at keeping secrets and he was conflicted about what to do next. Should he divulge what was truly going on? He reasoned that if it got out of hand, he could make her forget. But should he? Wiping memory didn’t sit well with George. He knew there was a slippery slope of consequences for abusing power. He’d read enough books, seen enough films, and knew enough history to know that power corrupts. And to quote Lord Acton from over a hundred years ago, absolute power corrupts absolutely.He resolved that it was ok as long as he got consent. So with that in mind, he pulled out of a piece of paper from a drawer beneath the breakfast bar. He presented the blank sheet to Kenzi and asked her to write on it.“Without me seeing,” George began, “I want you to draw on this piece of paper.” Kenzi was immediately excited at the prospect of another trick. She shifted her Pina Colada to her spare hand and grabbed the proffered pen. She was enjoying the drink and it was clearly offering a form of nervous comfort blanket for her. Continued sips had left it almost dry. “Before I carry on, I would like you to write on the piece of paper that you’re happy for me to do magic on you - and sign your name.”“What do you mean?” asked Kenzi, seeking more information and feeling vulnerable, like she was about to sign over her life. “On me?”“Ok Kenzi, here’s the deal,” George continued, somewhat reluctant to let the cat out of the bag. “I don’t want to abuse your trust in me. Coming to a stranger’s house puts you at risk and I don’t want to do anything that crosses your boundaries.”George continued to explain how his ‘magic’ was a form of hypnosis and how he’d been able to wipe a small part of Kenzi’s memory; her memory of seeing him naked.Kenzi stifled a scoff, “Yeah, right!” she retorted with a tone that screamed, “Bullshit!” As far as her studies had shown, hypnosis was pseudoscience at best, and she wasn’t about to be gaslit into believing George was some kind of hypno-master. Let alone that she was susceptible. Medical successes with hypnosis were most likely placebo. For that to work, you had to be a believer, and she certainly wasn’t. She was convinced George was deflecting attention away from his real techniques.“Ok, fine,” George said, now feeling he was being challenged and his virtue was at stake. “I want you to write on the piece of paper something that only you would know. Draw a little picture or something so you will recognise your own handiwork if you see it again. Then write in the corner that you are happy for me to erase your memory of ever writing it.” Then with a legal afterthought, “And sign your name to it.”Believing it to be nothing more than the setup for another illusion, she did as she was told. She felt aggrieved that George wasn’t being honest with her. Was she going to learn how George did his tricks or not? George continued, “Ok, now hide the piece of paper in the drawer under the breakfast bar.” Kenzi did as she was told, balancing awkwardly on her stool to access the drawer without getting up again. She passed the pen back to George, then sat back, arms folded across her chest, waiting to be impressed.“You have forgotten everything about writing on paper in my home this evening.” He said, trying to be as specific as possible without risking overwriting other memories. He still wasn’t quite sure how to use this power, so he aimed for safety.Kenzi blinked as if trying to remember what she was doing, then stared back at George expectantly. “Go on then,” she prompted impatiently. “Are you going to get me a piece of paper? I can play along and sign my name.”At George’s behest, Kenzi retrieved the paper from the drawer. She looked at the writing. She looked at the little picture she’d drawn of her dog, Rusty. She looked at her signature. The realisation of what she held in her hands dawned on her in stages.When Kenzi spoke, it came out slowly, “What… the… actual…fuck?” “Well, the way I see it,” George said nonchalantly, “There are only two explanations: I can either time travel or I can make you forget things.”Kenzi fought hard for another explanation, but nothing made much sense. This was vaguely terrifying. What else had he made her forget? She didn’t know George from Adam, and it dawned on her just how vulnerable she was.“How?” came the one-word follow-up question.“No idea!” explained George, shrugging, “A few days ago, I noticed that if I use a certain tone of voice, I can, well… change stuff about people’s realities.” George’s mind wandered. He had left out the circumstances of this discovery; it was a little X-rated for their current discussion. All the things he had done with his wife in the last 24 hours left him distracted.He then noticed Kenzi’s general demeanour; she looked disappointed.“What’s up?” he asked.“Well, I suppose you should know,” she sighed resignedly. “I was hoping you were a magician and could do some tricks with me, like they do on stage.”Since she arrived, she had been holding her coat tightly closed. Now she slowly opened it, as if trepidatious. Under her coat, she was wearing very little. Her ensemble was composed of a red-sequinned bustier, thigh-high stockings, and a skirt so short that it only served to highlight how little it hid. It was the type of outfit one might expect a magician's assistant to wear.“I… see…” George said with a lifted eyebrow, unsure how else to react. Kenzi quickly pulled her coat shut again and turned bright red, much like her sequins. She wanted to die inside; feeling that she’d made a fool of herself. She was overwhelmed by a sense of shame for revealing her stupid fantasy to a complete stranger. What had she been thinking? Why was she like this? George, seeing her reaction tried to comfort her, “Hey it’s ok, we can certainly do something here!” Then, letting her in on a further secret to put her mind at rest, “The classic ‘chopping a woman in half‘ trick has nothing on what I managed to do earlier today.” He was alluding to removing his wife’s arms and legs, but again, too much detail for now.Kenzi’s expression flicked from shame to a ray of hope that she had found a like-minded friend, or at least one who wouldn’t look at her like the freak she feared she was. Sawing a woman in half was one of her fantasies. Before she could ask George more, her ears pricked up and she turned around to look at the kitchen door. Turning back to George she asked, quizically, “Did someone just say ‘Coming’ in the other room? That’s the third time I’ve heard it since I got here.”George had been so caught up with Kenzi he’d forgotten his wife’s predicament. As far as Chloe was concerned, she was still a mannequin, impaled on a dildo that was endlessly stimulating her. George hadn’t heard her say anything, but then he remembered why: he had told himself not to, choosing instead to see Chloe’s eyes light up. He kicked himself for being so silly and hoped she hadn’t tried to use the safeword.“Just a minute please, Kenzi. I just need to check on my wife in the other room.”George made his way to the lounge. “I can perceive reality,” he said to himself, clearing myriad alterations from his mind like shaking an Etch-a-Sketch. There stood his wife, completely motionless with her head pointing skywards and her mouth wide open. She was wearing the same silky dress and heels that she’d worn to the restaurant earlier that evening, but she was on tiptoes in her heels. George considered how amazing it was that she could balance like that for so long.“Enjoying yourself, Babe?” asked George.Despite the rotation of her head and the massive extension of her jaw, she managed a “Yes” in response.“Want to stop?” he asked.“No,” she replied almost immediately.In Chloe’s reality, she was communicating with flashing eyes.Whilst her husband was absent, the dildo had travelled the length of her body four times and was now back in her mouth. It had elicited many orgasms on its travels. The way the dildo gagged her at the top of its journey was Chloe’s favourite part of the experience, and that’s what she was enjoying right now. She considered it lucky that she could communicate without speaking.George wondered if she’d lost the ability to tell the difference between fantasy and reality.“We have a visitor.”Chloe was once again horrified that someone would see her like this: a mannequin wearing ballet boots, chained to the ground and being impaled by an improbable dildo with a mind of its own. She had forgotten that her appearance and predicament was not visible to anyone else. George weighed his options. Ideally, he’d discuss anything involving a third party with his wife first. Should he release her when she was enjoying herself? Perhaps he should send Kenzi home and rearrange another meeting?However, before his thought process had reached its conclusion, a head popped round the door to the lounge, “George?” spoke Kenzi’s inquisitive voice. “Why is your wife standing like that?”–“Whoa! You can’t be here, Kenzi!” exclaimed George, now panicking that he’d betrayed his wife’s trust.Kenzi just stared at Chloe. She watched Chloe’s head, which had been pointing up at the ceiling, slowly drop to a more neutral position. Despite being up on tiptoes, her body was hardly moving, as if frozen in space. Kenzi found it strange that she hadn’t looked around as she entered the room.Snapping herself out of it, and turning to look at George, Kenzi protested. “Sorry to intrude - I have no idea what’s going on here, but it looks interesting!” Then, as if to suggest a compromise, “You can wipe my memory, right?”“Yeah, but…” said George before he was interrupted.“Then just do that before I leave. I’ll sign anything you want, but I need to know more; this evening has been the most exciting thing in my life ever.”George had to agree with her closing statement, and it was amazing that Kenzi had caught on so quickly.“Wait, you don’t mind me wiping your memory?” George asked, incredulous.“If it means I can spend time with you now, yes!” Then, as if to make her point abundantly clear, “I hope I earn your trust, but if I don’t, then clear my memory, and I’ll be none-the-wiser. Win, win!”George felt that Kenzi was a little over-eager to give away her freedoms like this, but it certainly provided a route out of this potentially-awkward situation.“Ok, here’s the deal, Kenzi,” George began. “My wife believes she’s a mannequin, amongst other… things.”“Holy shit, really? Like in stage hypnotism shows?” Kenzi replied.George continued explaining that it wasn’t possible for him to simply show her his wife’s reality, as he’d have to describe the whole scene. He wanted to explain the set of visual and auditory queues he’d set up to stay “In sync” with his wife’s experience, but it all felt very academic and dry. Besides, he was increasingly anxious to release his wife and ensure she was okay with being paraded in front of this newcomer.“It’s perhaps easier if I show you. Are you up for an experience?”There was never likely to be a more willing volunteer. “I want to experience what she’s experiencing,” Kenzi said, enthusiastically. Had George been drinking he would have spat the fluid out. Kenzi had no idea quite what Chloe was experiencing, and George certainly wasn’t going to take her there just yet. He composed himself, “I want to talk to Chloe in private for about half an hour, but I want to give you a taste of the possibilities. You don’t mind being immobile in a stranger’s house?”“We’re not strangers anymore,” Kenzi’s replied, using some dubious logic. “Besides, you’ve already wiped part of my memory, so I think we’re over the trust threshold. I’m committed!”Kenzi joined George on the sofa whilst he thought about what he wanted to do. Despite the crazy kinky experience he and his wife had enjoyed, he wanted something low-key for their new visitor.“Coming,” said Chloe once more from the corner of the room.Kenzi raised her eyebrows at George, but he ignored it. He had his phone out, screen hidden, scrolling through his private stash of images. Having found what he was looking for, he turned to Kenzi.“Have a look at this photo,” George said to Kenzi, holding his phone screen towards her.On his phone screen was a piece of artwork that depicted a robot. The robot was distinctively feminine, with curves in all the right places. The shiny chrome of its skin highlighted its sensual nature. This was the photo of a fembot from the future, but unlike some of the images in his “special” album, this one was rated PG13 rather than X.Kenzi raised her eyebrows once more, “Oh my!” she said, mimicking George Takei of Star Trek fame.At its elbows, knees and hips were machined joints allowing it to move. Its hairless head had a humanoid shape but was made of chrome like the rest of the body. Its eyes were nothing more than a monochrome display with turquoise pixels, displaying sultry cat-like eyes on a black background. The mouth, similarly, was rendered on a small screen. “Ok, here we go.” George began, “Sure you don’t want to back out?”“I have no idea what you’re going to do, but you can do anything.” she said, giving him carte-blanche. “Are you going to make that robot appear?” She asked innocently.“You are the robot in this picture,” George commanded.After the restaurant incident, he was happy that using a picture was a simple way to ensure a common understanding of complex changes.“When you speak, your voice will sound like a feminine robotic voice. When you move, your movements will be constrained by your robotic joints.” And, thinking forwards, “There is a power button on the back of your neck. When you are powered down, you will sleep until you are powered up again.”Whatever Kenzi had expected, it wasn’t this! She looked down at her fingers, now individually-joined pieces of metal. She made a fist and relaxed again, marvelling at how the joints in her hand moved.“CAN YOU SEE THIS?” asked Kenzi-bot in a robotic woman’s voice. Her animated mouth synchronised with the syllables. She laughed at the sound of her own voice, “HA HA HA”.Her animated eyes closed and a couple of tear drops were rendered on either side, indicating joy in much the same way as an emoji.“Oh yes!” said George enthusiastically. He’d been painting different realities all day but once again he was stunned by his power. Visions that had remained in his head or, at best, in his vast digital art archive, were now trivial to bring to life.Kenzi stood up, her robotic legs allowing her to rise smoothly, both moving together in a synchronised motion. A faint motorised noise accompanied her movement. The moment she was standing, she pulled off her coat to see the rest of her body. She discarded the coat on the floor, distracted by her chrome arms. George sat and watched from behind her on the sofa. He was taken aback by the sight of the fembot he’d created, dressed as she was in thigh-high stockings and suspenders, a short skirt and a sequined bustier. George reminded himself it was inappropriate to perv on the new girl, but it was a challenge when she was literally a fantasy image.“THIS IS IN-CRED-I-BLE” Kenzi said robotically and somewhat redundantly. “YOU ARE A WIZ-ARD!”She stood to the side of the sofa and started moving all her joints. Amused with her new restricted movements, she “did the robot” - dancing in a pronounced robotic style.George chuckled to himself but remembered why he’d chosen this form. “Kenzi, I’m going to put you to sleep for a little while, ok?”“AFFIRMATIVE,” came the response. George was impressed with how well she’d taken to this and got into character. He got off the sofa, walked up to Kenzi, and pressed the bright red button on the back of her neck. The animations of her eyes and lips narrowed to a single turquoise line, then faded to black. Kenzi then slumped forwards, chrome arms hanging down by her sides. The noise of a motor spinning down accompanied the performance, leaving Kenzi standing motionless.“Do androids dream of electric sheep?” George idly wondered, amusing himself with a literary reference.“Coming,” said Chloe once more, in her own world.And so it was that George found himself in his lounge with two inanimate women. Whatever was he to do?

Description
"Kenzi-bot? Who's that?" I hear you cry:

Sense Perception 9 - Kenzi-botGeorge nervously tapped his foot as he waited for Kenzi to reach the front door. His wife, Chloe, was in the lounge believing she was a mannequin—a mannequin who was being pleasured thoroughly by an improbably large dildo. Given the situation, George wasn’t sure how to handle their guest's arrival.Kenzi had been introduced to the couple in an unusual way. Whilst walking her dog, she’d seen George enjoying a sexual encounter with his wife, naked in the woods. However, Kenzi had no recollection of seeing him, or her for that matter. George had wiped her memory and made himself and his wife invisible to her. So instead of this lewd encounter, Kenzi's first memory of the couple was when they appeared “by magic” in front of her till at the supermarket.George had learned three things from meeting Kenzi. One: he could affect other people’s realities. Two: he could affect memories. Three: the effects he created in people’s minds lasted many hours - perhaps indefinitely.George quickly nipped back into the lounge to check Chloe was ok. The dildo that was travelling relentlessly through her body was on its way back down. “You ok if I leave you here for a bit, babe?” George enquired caringly.Chloe’s eyes flashed green to say, “Yes.”She was in seventh heaven and never wanted it to stop.So George returned to the front door just as Kenzi knocked to announce her arrival.“Hey, Kenzi!” said George welcomingly. “So glad you came!”“Hi George,” said Kenzi shyly, much less sure of herself. “Let me take your coat,” he offered. Kenzi declined sheepishly. “No, it’s ok, thanks. I’ll keep it on for now.”“Ok…” said George, somewhat taken aback. “Let’s go to the kitchen and have a chat.”Kenzi followed George down the short corridor to the kitchen. They perched at the breakfast bar on adjacent stools. Kenzi looked furtive as if having second thoughts.“So, Kenzi,” said George, trying to make her comfortable again, “Tell me a little about yourself.”Kenzi nervously reeled off numerous details about her life, as if she was in an interview and was reciting her resume. In the space of under two minutes, George learned that Kenzi is a 23 year old Ukranian immigrant with a dog called Rusty who she considers her only real friend, so far away from home. She worked in the supermarket to make ends meet, but was studying psychology online in the evenings. George’s ears pricked up at this. A psychologist’s perspective could be very interesting with the way he could bend minds. He stored this nugget of information for future use and let her continue.She absolutely loved magic. Ever since she was a little child watching TV shows of great magicians she had always felt a huge thrill when presented with something that tricked her mind.George listened intently as Kenzi described her fascination. He couldn’t help but feel that there was something she was withholding; it all felt rather superficial. Still, he supposed that was to be expected as they’d only just met. It became clear that she’d come around this evening because she wanted to see some magic. So who was George to deny her?“Ok Kenzi. First let me get you a drink - anything you like.”“Oh, do you have Coke? Or water if not.” she asked, innocently trying to avoid being a burden.“Come now; I can pour you anything you like! What’s the most exotic drink you can think of?”Poor Kenzi was on the spot, feeling like a fish out of water. But she’d been listening to songs as she walked over to George’s apartment, and the last song she heard was still ear-wormed into her mind. “Pina Colada?” “I never knew you liked Pina Coladas!” replied George, quoting the song enthusiastically. Then, subtly commanded, “When you next use the kitchen tap, you’ll get cool Pina Colada rather than water.”He handed Kenzi an empty glass and motioned towards the sink, “Go on,” he encouraged, waiting to see if it worked.Kenzi clumsily lifted herself off the stool, holding her glass in one hand and her coat tight across her waist with the other.George was certain he caught a glimpse of skin beneath her coat. What was she wearing? He was intrigued.Kenzi got to the sink, held her glass beneath the tap and turned the handle. To her delight, cool Pina Colada poured from the faucet. The icy drink filled her glass and she breathed in the tropical scent. She swirled her drink, savouring the sensation of the cold glass on her hand, then took a slurp. She’d only had such a drink once before on a holiday as a teenager, which brought all those memories flooding back.“How on earth?” she asked George with incredulity, both amazed and dumbfounded. She squatted down and opened the cupboard under the sink, looking for a tank or something to see how it was done.George just smiled. Kenzi was just drinking water, not that it looked, smelled or tasted like that to her. It dawned on him that his power could save a fortune in entertainment costs. He could host the most lavish dinner party whilst serving his guests toast and water. Heck, maybe he could get away without serving anything at all!“Ok, that’s pretty cool,” Kenzi said, impressed. “Pleeeeease tell me how it’s done!” she pleaded like a child begging to be allowed to stay up late.“Whoa there, a great magician never reveals his tricks,” George joked, getting into character. “Would it surprise you to know I’ve only been doing magic for a few days?”George was never good at keeping secrets and he was conflicted about what to do next. Should he divulge what was truly going on? He reasoned that if it got out of hand, he could make her forget. But should he? Wiping memory didn’t sit well with George. He knew there was a slippery slope of consequences for abusing power. He’d read enough books, seen enough films, and knew enough history to know that power corrupts. And to quote Lord Acton from over a hundred years ago, absolute power corrupts absolutely.He resolved that it was ok as long as he got consent. So with that in mind, he pulled out of a piece of paper from a drawer beneath the breakfast bar. He presented the blank sheet to Kenzi and asked her to write on it.“Without me seeing,” George began, “I want you to draw on this piece of paper.” Kenzi was immediately excited at the prospect of another trick. She shifted her Pina Colada to her spare hand and grabbed the proffered pen. She was enjoying the drink and it was clearly offering a form of nervous comfort blanket for her. Continued sips had left it almost dry. “Before I carry on, I would like you to write on the piece of paper that you’re happy for me to do magic on you - and sign your name.”“What do you mean?” asked Kenzi, seeking more information and feeling vulnerable, like she was about to sign over her life. “On me?”“Ok Kenzi, here’s the deal,” George continued, somewhat reluctant to let the cat out of the bag. “I don’t want to abuse your trust in me. Coming to a stranger’s house puts you at risk and I don’t want to do anything that crosses your boundaries.”George continued to explain how his ‘magic’ was a form of hypnosis and how he’d been able to wipe a small part of Kenzi’s memory; her memory of seeing him naked.Kenzi stifled a scoff, “Yeah, right!” she retorted with a tone that screamed, “Bullshit!” As far as her studies had shown, hypnosis was pseudoscience at best, and she wasn’t about to be gaslit into believing George was some kind of hypno-master. Let alone that she was susceptible. Medical successes with hypnosis were most likely placebo. For that to work, you had to be a believer, and she certainly wasn’t. She was convinced George was deflecting attention away from his real techniques.“Ok, fine,” George said, now feeling he was being challenged and his virtue was at stake. “I want you to write on the piece of paper something that only you would know. Draw a little picture or something so you will recognise your own handiwork if you see it again. Then write in the corner that you are happy for me to erase your memory of ever writing it.” Then with a legal afterthought, “And sign your name to it.”Believing it to be nothing more than the setup for another illusion, she did as she was told. She felt aggrieved that George wasn’t being honest with her. Was she going to learn how George did his tricks or not? George continued, “Ok, now hide the piece of paper in the drawer under the breakfast bar.” Kenzi did as she was told, balancing awkwardly on her stool to access the drawer without getting up again. She passed the pen back to George, then sat back, arms folded across her chest, waiting to be impressed.“You have forgotten everything about writing on paper in my home this evening.” He said, trying to be as specific as possible without risking overwriting other memories. He still wasn’t quite sure how to use this power, so he aimed for safety.Kenzi blinked as if trying to remember what she was doing, then stared back at George expectantly. “Go on then,” she prompted impatiently. “Are you going to get me a piece of paper? I can play along and sign my name.”At George’s behest, Kenzi retrieved the paper from the drawer. She looked at the writing. She looked at the little picture she’d drawn of her dog, Rusty. She looked at her signature. The realisation of what she held in her hands dawned on her in stages.When Kenzi spoke, it came out slowly, “What… the… actual…fuck?” “Well, the way I see it,” George said nonchalantly, “There are only two explanations: I can either time travel or I can make you forget things.”Kenzi fought hard for another explanation, but nothing made much sense. This was vaguely terrifying. What else had he made her forget? She didn’t know George from Adam, and it dawned on her just how vulnerable she was.“How?” came the one-word follow-up question.“No idea!” explained George, shrugging, “A few days ago, I noticed that if I use a certain tone of voice, I can, well… change stuff about people’s realities.” George’s mind wandered. He had left out the circumstances of this discovery; it was a little X-rated for their current discussion. All the things he had done with his wife in the last 24 hours left him distracted.He then noticed Kenzi’s general demeanour; she looked disappointed.“What’s up?” he asked.“Well, I suppose you should know,” she sighed resignedly. “I was hoping you were a magician and could do some tricks with me, like they do on stage.”Since she arrived, she had been holding her coat tightly closed. Now she slowly opened it, as if trepidatious. Under her coat, she was wearing very little. Her ensemble was composed of a red-sequinned bustier, thigh-high stockings, and a skirt so short that it only served to highlight how little it hid. It was the type of outfit one might expect a magician's assistant to wear.“I… see…” George said with a lifted eyebrow, unsure how else to react. Kenzi quickly pulled her coat shut again and turned bright red, much like her sequins. She wanted to die inside; feeling that she’d made a fool of herself. She was overwhelmed by a sense of shame for revealing her stupid fantasy to a complete stranger. What had she been thinking? Why was she like this? George, seeing her reaction tried to comfort her, “Hey it’s ok, we can certainly do something here!” Then, letting her in on a further secret to put her mind at rest, “The classic ‘chopping a woman in half‘ trick has nothing on what I managed to do earlier today.” He was alluding to removing his wife’s arms and legs, but again, too much detail for now.Kenzi’s expression flicked from shame to a ray of hope that she had found a like-minded friend, or at least one who wouldn’t look at her like the freak she feared she was. Sawing a woman in half was one of her fantasies. Before she could ask George more, her ears pricked up and she turned around to look at the kitchen door. Turning back to George she asked, quizically, “Did someone just say ‘Coming’ in the other room? That’s the third time I’ve heard it since I got here.”George had been so caught up with Kenzi he’d forgotten his wife’s predicament. As far as Chloe was concerned, she was still a mannequin, impaled on a dildo that was endlessly stimulating her. George hadn’t heard her say anything, but then he remembered why: he had told himself not to, choosing instead to see Chloe’s eyes light up. He kicked himself for being so silly and hoped she hadn’t tried to use the safeword.“Just a minute please, Kenzi. I just need to check on my wife in the other room.”George made his way to the lounge. “I can perceive reality,” he said to himself, clearing myriad alterations from his mind like shaking an Etch-a-Sketch. There stood his wife, completely motionless with her head pointing skywards and her mouth wide open. She was wearing the same silky dress and heels that she’d worn to the restaurant earlier that evening, but she was on tiptoes in her heels. George considered how amazing it was that she could balance like that for so long.“Enjoying yourself, Babe?” asked George.Despite the rotation of her head and the massive extension of her jaw, she managed a “Yes” in response.“Want to stop?” he asked.“No,” she replied almost immediately.In Chloe’s reality, she was communicating with flashing eyes.Whilst her husband was absent, the dildo had travelled the length of her body four times and was now back in her mouth. It had elicited many orgasms on its travels. The way the dildo gagged her at the top of its journey was Chloe’s favourite part of the experience, and that’s what she was enjoying right now. She considered it lucky that she could communicate without speaking.George wondered if she’d lost the ability to tell the difference between fantasy and reality.“We have a visitor.”Chloe was once again horrified that someone would see her like this: a mannequin wearing ballet boots, chained to the ground and being impaled by an improbable dildo with a mind of its own. She had forgotten that her appearance and predicament was not visible to anyone else. George weighed his options. Ideally, he’d discuss anything involving a third party with his wife first. Should he release her when she was enjoying herself? Perhaps he should send Kenzi home and rearrange another meeting?However, before his thought process had reached its conclusion, a head popped round the door to the lounge, “George?” spoke Kenzi’s inquisitive voice. “Why is your wife standing like that?”–“Whoa! You can’t be here, Kenzi!” exclaimed George, now panicking that he’d betrayed his wife’s trust.Kenzi just stared at Chloe. She watched Chloe’s head, which had been pointing up at the ceiling, slowly drop to a more neutral position. Despite being up on tiptoes, her body was hardly moving, as if frozen in space. Kenzi found it strange that she hadn’t looked around as she entered the room.Snapping herself out of it, and turning to look at George, Kenzi protested. “Sorry to intrude - I have no idea what’s going on here, but it looks interesting!” Then, as if to suggest a compromise, “You can wipe my memory, right?”“Yeah, but…” said George before he was interrupted.“Then just do that before I leave. I’ll sign anything you want, but I need to know more; this evening has been the most exciting thing in my life ever.”George had to agree with her closing statement, and it was amazing that Kenzi had caught on so quickly.“Wait, you don’t mind me wiping your memory?” George asked, incredulous.“If it means I can spend time with you now, yes!” Then, as if to make her point abundantly clear, “I hope I earn your trust, but if I don’t, then clear my memory, and I’ll be none-the-wiser. Win, win!”George felt that Kenzi was a little over-eager to give away her freedoms like this, but it certainly provided a route out of this potentially-awkward situation.“Ok, here’s the deal, Kenzi,” George began. “My wife believes she’s a mannequin, amongst other… things.”“Holy shit, really? Like in stage hypnotism shows?” Kenzi replied.George continued explaining that it wasn’t possible for him to simply show her his wife’s reality, as he’d have to describe the whole scene. He wanted to explain the set of visual and auditory queues he’d set up to stay “In sync” with his wife’s experience, but it all felt very academic and dry. Besides, he was increasingly anxious to release his wife and ensure she was okay with being paraded in front of this newcomer.“It’s perhaps easier if I show you. Are you up for an experience?”There was never likely to be a more willing volunteer. “I want to experience what she’s experiencing,” Kenzi said, enthusiastically. Had George been drinking he would have spat the fluid out. Kenzi had no idea quite what Chloe was experiencing, and George certainly wasn’t going to take her there just yet. He composed himself, “I want to talk to Chloe in private for about half an hour, but I want to give you a taste of the possibilities. You don’t mind being immobile in a stranger’s house?”“We’re not strangers anymore,” Kenzi’s replied, using some dubious logic. “Besides, you’ve already wiped part of my memory, so I think we’re over the trust threshold. I’m committed!”Kenzi joined George on the sofa whilst he thought about what he wanted to do. Despite the crazy kinky experience he and his wife had enjoyed, he wanted something low-key for their new visitor.“Coming,” said Chloe once more from the corner of the room.Kenzi raised her eyebrows at George, but he ignored it. He had his phone out, screen hidden, scrolling through his private stash of images. Having found what he was looking for, he turned to Kenzi.“Have a look at this photo,” George said to Kenzi, holding his phone screen towards her.On his phone screen was a piece of artwork that depicted a robot. The robot was distinctively feminine, with curves in all the right places. The shiny chrome of its skin highlighted its sensual nature. This was the photo of a fembot from the future, but unlike some of the images in his “special” album, this one was rated PG13 rather than X.Kenzi raised her eyebrows once more, “Oh my!” she said, mimicking George Takei of Star Trek fame.At its elbows, knees and hips were machined joints allowing it to move. Its hairless head had a humanoid shape but was made of chrome like the rest of the body. Its eyes were nothing more than a monochrome display with turquoise pixels, displaying sultry cat-like eyes on a black background. The mouth, similarly, was rendered on a small screen. “Ok, here we go.” George began, “Sure you don’t want to back out?”“I have no idea what you’re going to do, but you can do anything.” she said, giving him carte-blanche. “Are you going to make that robot appear?” She asked innocently.“You are the robot in this picture,” George commanded.After the restaurant incident, he was happy that using a picture was a simple way to ensure a common understanding of complex changes.“When you speak, your voice will sound like a feminine robotic voice. When you move, your movements will be constrained by your robotic joints.” And, thinking forwards, “There is a power button on the back of your neck. When you are powered down, you will sleep until you are powered up again.”Whatever Kenzi had expected, it wasn’t this! She looked down at her fingers, now individually-joined pieces of metal. She made a fist and relaxed again, marvelling at how the joints in her hand moved.“CAN YOU SEE THIS?” asked Kenzi-bot in a robotic woman’s voice. Her animated mouth synchronised with the syllables. She laughed at the sound of her own voice, “HA HA HA”.Her animated eyes closed and a couple of tear drops were rendered on either side, indicating joy in much the same way as an emoji.“Oh yes!” said George enthusiastically. He’d been painting different realities all day but once again he was stunned by his power. Visions that had remained in his head or, at best, in his vast digital art archive, were now trivial to bring to life.Kenzi stood up, her robotic legs allowing her to rise smoothly, both moving together in a synchronised motion. A faint motorised noise accompanied her movement. The moment she was standing, she pulled off her coat to see the rest of her body. She discarded the coat on the floor, distracted by her chrome arms. George sat and watched from behind her on the sofa. He was taken aback by the sight of the fembot he’d created, dressed as she was in thigh-high stockings and suspenders, a short skirt and a sequined bustier. George reminded himself it was inappropriate to perv on the new girl, but it was a challenge when she was literally a fantasy image.“THIS IS IN-CRED-I-BLE” Kenzi said robotically and somewhat redundantly. “YOU ARE A WIZ-ARD!”She stood to the side of the sofa and started moving all her joints. Amused with her new restricted movements, she “did the robot” - dancing in a pronounced robotic style.George chuckled to himself but remembered why he’d chosen this form. “Kenzi, I’m going to put you to sleep for a little while, ok?”“AFFIRMATIVE,” came the response. George was impressed with how well she’d taken to this and got into character. He got off the sofa, walked up to Kenzi, and pressed the bright red button on the back of her neck. The animations of her eyes and lips narrowed to a single turquoise line, then faded to black. Kenzi then slumped forwards, chrome arms hanging down by her sides. The noise of a motor spinning down accompanied the performance, leaving Kenzi standing motionless.“Do androids dream of electric sheep?” George idly wondered, amusing himself with a literary reference.“Coming,” said Chloe once more, in her own world.And so it was that George found himself in his lounge with two inanimate women. Whatever was he to do?