Demoted To The Mechanical Nursery Chapter Two (Patreon)

“A few years ago, our R & D division embarked on it’s most ambitions project ever,” Ms. Simmons explained and a crisp, but cool voice. “Our engineers started with a vision-- a vision of a fully automated infancy, where a baby could be raised entirely by a sophisticated team of automatons.”

     The elevator arrived in the basement with a polite ding. The doors gently hissed open, and Simmons strode confidently into the hallway. “This way, please,” she commanded, her heals clicking their way down the hallway. Reluctantly, Ashley followed, trailing behind, only half listening to Ms. Simmions’ droning:

     “Our team envisioned an environment where small children could be cared for in the temporary absence of their parents-- a ‘nursery,’ if you would-- where all of the child’s needs could be catered to by advanced robotic units guided by an advanced Artificial Intelligence system,” she explained dryly. They reached a door, and Simmons pulled a security card from her purse and slid it through the slot next to it. Ashley heard it unlock with a soft click, and moments later they were on their way again.

     The hallway was long and sterile, but Ms Simmons took such long steps and walked with a precise, almost military gait, and they covered the distance quickly... in fact, Ashley found herself struggling to keep up a bit. It seemed Simmons wasn’t the desk-bound nerd she appeared to be at first glance.

     “Almost five years went into the planning, and it took an additional five years just to build a functional prototype,” Simmons explained. “We were all ready to begin testing it on live subjects. But then there was... an incident.”

    “‘Incident?’” Ashley didn’t like where this was going.

     “A break in at the facility. A well known international thief somehow gained access to the installation, with the intention of helping herself to our secrets.”

     “What happened?”

     “Somehow, the system was activated with our unfortunate thief still inside... which wouldn’t normally have been a problem, except that someone had overridden the recognition software and re-calibrated some of the safety protocols and... well...” They reached another door, and Ms. Simmons ran her key card through the slot, the lock clacking open obediently, and Ashley reluctantly followed her into the darkened room beyond.

     “Well... what happened?” Ashley said, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Ms. Simmons crossed the room with practised ease... Ashley swallowed heavily-- especially when she heard the door swing shut and lock automatically behind them.

     “The AI registered the thief as a test subject,” Simmons said from somewhere in the darkness, “and activated the automatons... One second please,” she said, and Ashley heard a second door slamming shut on the far side of the room.

     “Hey!” Ashley cried in the darkness, realizing with a sinking feeling that she was now trapped in a dark room in the basement of her office, and her eyes didn’t seem to be adjusting... where ever she was, it must’ve been pitch black.

     “That’s better.” Ashley gave a small start when Simmons’ voice came blaring over a speaker somewhere. “Where was I? Oh yes, I remember... our unfortunate little protagonist had found herself standing in our state-of-the-art mechanical nursery,” she continued the story with a sadistic relish.

     The lights suddenly came on, blindingly bright... now Ashley was forced to shield her face. Through squinted eyelids, she could barely make out pastel walls and a massive crib-- a nursery, she realized with a sudden stab of fear.

     “Wait a second...” she said, not liking where all this was going.

     “And someone had altered the program,” Ms. Simmon continued, ignoring Ashley, “to register her as a subject to be cared for rather than as a grown woman and... well...”

     From within the walls and under her feet, Ashley heard an ominous whirring and clanking... as though somewhere, a great machine was stirring to life all around her. She sweated and frantically scanned the room for some way out.

    “She was in there a full weekend before anyone found her... a long, long weekend,” Simmons chuckled over the intercom. “The mechanical nursery DID provide quality care to our heroine... unfortunately for her, it was a level of care more appropriate for a two year old than a grown woman.”

     “Let me out of here!” Ashley cried, pounding uselessly on the door in a frantic attempt to escape.

     “That seemed to be the end of the project,” Ms. Simmons said, ignoring Ashley’s pleas. “Even if we could get government approval after what happened, we were unable to fix the changes that had been made to the program. Something had been fundamentally altered in the software...  any time an adult woman got anywhere near the thing when it was switched on... well...”

      “Open this door!” Ashley pleaded, kicking it as hard as she could with her high-heels on. All around her, the rumbling and clanking grew louder and more urgent.

     “We had no choice but to dismantle it-- but I just couldn’t stand seeing all that work, not to mention the materials and money go to waste. And then, one day, I was studying our employee efficiency reports, and I had an epiphany...”

     “Look, Simmons,” Ashley thundered pompously, “I’m getting sick of the scare tactics! Either let me go or-- yikes!” she cried, cutting herself off with a shriek when a pair of strong mechanical hands emerged from the ceiling, scooped her up under her arms and hoisted her into the air like a two year old. “What the hell!? Lemmie go!” She screamed, struggling fruitlessly against their vice-like grip.

     “You’re just the test subject,” Ms. Simmons said, and for the first time, Ashley detected something else in her voice... a smugness, with maybe a hit of pleasure. “I’m going to weed them out-- all the naughty girls, who waste time gossiping and fixing their make-up instead of doing their jobs. I’m going to reassign them all to my special nursery,” she said with a little laugh.

     Ashley was barely listening. The strong, mechanical hands encircled her wrists and ankles, holding her suspended a few feet in the air. A series of clicks and whirs behind her drew her attention in time to see a set of panels retract and another pair of robotic arms slithered forth, heading right for her.

     “No!” She shouted, kicking and struggling in vain. The sleek fingers, covered in fabric, strong and precise, yet strangely soft and warm, reached out towards her and began stripping her clothes from her body. “Hey! No! Quit it! Eek!” she cried as her blouse and skirt were literally torn from her body, leaving the gorgeous Ashley hanging and struggling in her sexy, lacy underwear.

     “In time, you’ll see that this really is for the best,” Ms. Simmons assured her over the intercom as her clothes were discarded on the floor and the hands went to work removing her bra and panties.

     “Stop it, damn you!” she roared... but it was lost on deaf ears-- the undergarments were removed with surgical precision, and at last Ashley hung there, naked and exposed, her every intimate area open for inspection.

     “But enough orientation, for now,” Said Ms. Simmons with an evil grin, “It’s time to get started...”

What is the first step in Ashley’s regression?