I was looking for a new apartment. They had continued to raise the rent at my current place. In fact it had gone up almost 50% in 2 years. A new owner had purchased the apartment a few months after I had moved in. Although they had made a number of cosmetic “improvements”, painting, carpeting, hallway lighting, etc.; they had done little to truly upgrade or improve the apartments or the buildings. I had done some checking around and narrowed had my choices down to 3. I had already visited 2 of them and had an appointment at the third this afternoon.

I arrived a few minutes early. I walked into the office. It was nicely decorated and was very clean. There was a young lady sitting with her back toward me looking for something in a file cabinet. When she turned around I was pleasantly surprised. I recognized her immediately as my high school crush, Jessie.

I had had a crush on Jessie since the first time I had seen her during our sophomore year. She was a cheerleader for the football and hockey teams. Unfortunately I was a basketball player, so she never really noticed me and I was too shy to ask her out or even talk to her. During our senior year she was runner-up for homecoming queen. She was extremely popular and I was not. I had only seen her once since high school. At our 5-year reunion I worked up the courage to go and talk to her. She surprised me when we called me by name as I walked up to her. We had a short conversation, just small-talk. She soon was distracted by others and I walked away. On my way home I took off my nametag and wondered if that was how Jessie knew my name and who I was.

“Hi Ben. How are you doing?” she asked. “You're here to look at an apartment, correct?”

I recovered from my surprise and managed to answer, “Yes!”

“It’s good to see you again!” she said.

>>24407001

She grabbed a key and said, “Let’s go see the apartment.”

We walked out the door of the office after flipping the sign over to “BE BACK SOON”, then locked the door behind her. We walked across a circle to the building on the other side. We went inside and took the elevator to the 3rd floor. We turned left down the hallway. Whatever scent she was wearing filled the elevator. It smelled wonderful. I followed her noticing her hair. It was brown with blonde streaked highlights. I noticed her body. She was taller than average, maybe 5' 9” or 5' 10”. She had the curves of a woman with a great looking rear end. Her pantsuit fit her well, definitely flattered her figure. She stopped at the second to last apartment in the left side. She unlocked the door and we went in. The apartment was nice, though not much different than the others I had looked at earlier. I walked around. The walls had recently been painted and the carpet looked new.

Suddenly Jessie said, “You keep looking around. I have to go next door to my apartment and get something.”

Whether she knew it or not she just rented an apartment. It was “my dream come true” to be living next door to Jessie.

When she returned she asked, “What do you think?”

I pretended to think for awhile then said, “Yes, I am interested.”

“Would you like this apartment or one on a different floor?” Jessie asked. “First floor apartments are less expensive.”

“This apartment will be fine,” I responded.

“Sounds good,” she said, smiling that wonderful smile I remembered from high school.

Her face was so beautiful. Her glistening brown eyes, long eyelashes, perfectly shaped nose, full lips, and lightly tanned skin set her apart from almost every woman I had ever seen.

She walked toward the door and I followed. I again was mesmerized by her hips and butt. There was a slight bounce, but she was trim and well toned. Soon we were back in the office and I was busty completing the paperwork. I noticed her set down a doll and blanket on the file cabinet behind her desk. My heart sank. She had a child and was probably married or had a man in her life.

“What type of work do you do?” she asked in the melodious voice she had. (Can you tell I was still was enamored with her?)

“I am a computer programmer for a food wholesaler. I work with procurement, inventory control, and merchandising systems,” I answered. “Do you have a little girl?”

I pointed to the doll she had just set down.

“Yes. Emily. She is 7 years old. I have a date tonight and she wanted her doll to take to the babysitter’s apartment. One of the residents has a 15 year-old daughter that watches Emily for me after school,” she explained.

We had been out of high school only 8 years so she had her daughter soon after we graduated. I wondered who the father was but was afraid to ask her about it.

“Do you remember Tony?” Jessie asked.

I nodded. Tony was the best wide receiver on the high school football team. Then she just opened up and told me the whole story.

“Tony and I dated during the last part of our senior year and then into the Summer. He didn't get any scholarship offers, so he had decided to join the Air Force. On his last night before leaving we had our last date. Things got very emotional and we went all the way. A couple of months later I realized I was pregnant. I wrote to Tony and then he called and I had the hard conversation with him. He wanted me to have an abortion. In other words he didn’t want to be a father or be responsible for a child. That told me all I wanted to know. I told him I was going to have the baby and he did not have to be a father in any way. I sensed the relief in his voice. Soon the call ended and I have not heard from him since. All my future plans changed. College and career were out of the question, at least in the short term. Next I had the hard conversation with my parents. They were disappointed, but very supportive. They agreed that because of Tony's attitude that I didn’t want him in my or my baby’s lives. I lived with my parents for a few years until I got the job here as property manager,” she said and paused.

I could see tears in her eyes. I felt so sorry for her. I then noticed a couple of pictures on her desk. One was a picture of a baby. The other was a picture of Jessie and a young girl. Obviously it was her daughter. She was also very cute and looked very much like Jessie.

“She is very beautiful,” I said pointing to the picture.

“Thank you! I think so too,” she said.

I finished the paperwork. She took the paperwork and looked through it.

“So there will only be one tenant?” she asked.

“Yes,” I answered.

“I will get back to you after I get positive responses to your credit and background checks. When would you be looking to move in?” she asked.

“My current lease expires at the end of June, so July 1st,” I replied.

“I'll start the lease for July 1st, but set the move-in date for Saturday June 28th,” she stated.

“Thanks! I hadn't thought about the day of the week,” I said.

I thanked her again. We shook hands, the first time I had touched her. Her hand was soft and warm.

“I'll get back to you in a couple of days when the reports come back,” Jessie said.

I turned to leave. Jessie’s daughter was getting off the school bus in front of the office. Jessie and I walked out together. Emily came running over and gave her mother a huge hug. Emily started talking a mile a minute telling her mom about her day. I waved goodbye, got in my car and left.

3 days later I received a call from Jessie. Everything had come back fine and she asked when I would like to come in to sign the lease. I tried not to sound too excited, but told her I would be there the next day.

When I arrived Jessie greeted me with a high smile. When I was about to sign the lease I noticed the lease amount was less than I expected. I asked about the amount. Jessie responded that she had given me the lease rate for a first floor apartment. I thanked her and completed the process. She surprised me by giving a hug before I left. Her hair and perfume smelled so wonderful.

A few weeks later I moved in on a Saturday. Emily was in the hallway watching as I was moving in. She was interested in and asked about every box and item as it went into the apartment. At lunch time Jessie came over from the office to get lunch for Emily.

“Do you want something for lunch? We are just having some sandwiches and fruit,” Jessie asked me.

“Yes, that would be very nice,” I quickly agreed.

Jessie’s apartment was the same layout, but was a mirror image of mine. Emily took my hand and led me over to a chair at the table. She was quite the little hostess. She put out the plates, bowls, cups, and silverware. She put a carton of milk and a pitcher of ice water on the table. Jessie finished making the sandwiches as Emily put a bowl of fruit on the table. They both sat down. Emily took half of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Jessie nodded to me to take what I wanted.

I took half of the ham and cheese, and half of the peanut butter. I wanted to leave Jessie her choice. She took the other half of the ham and cheese, and half of the cheese sandwiches.

“Emily doesn’t like ham and cheese sandwiches,” Jessie said.

“Yuch!” exclaimed Emily.

“She lives on peanut butter and jelly,” Jessie teased. “Please take some fruit.”

I spooned a few scoops of the fruit into my bowl and put the bowl of fruit in front of Emily.

“I don’t like pineapple either,” Emily said as she carefully selected her desired fruits from the bowl.

“Emily you should take at least one piece of pineapple. You'll learn to like it,” Jessie insisted.

Emily made a face, bit slowly scooped one piece of pineapple into her bowl.

“I’m going to the bathroom. I want to see that pineapple gone when I come back,” Jessie said as she got up from the table.

When the bathroom door closed Emily put the pineapple on her spoon, but did not move it toward her mouth. I pushed my bowl closer to Emily’s and pointed at my bowl. Emily slowly lifted her spoon and moved it toward my bowl. She looked at me and I nodded. She put the pineapple in my bowl and giggled. Soon the bathroom door opened. Jessie came out to see both of us enjoying our fruit. As Jessie sat down Emily smiled a mischievous grin at her mom.

“Did Emily put the pineapple back in the fruit bowl?” Jessie asked me.

“No! She did not put the pineapple back in the fruit bowl,” I answered.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Emily trying to keep a straight face. She took the other half of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich and began eating it to help her control her reaction.

“I injured my knee playing basketball in college and it hurts to bend down or kneel on the floor. Do you know someone that could help me put stuff away in the lower cabinets and storage areas?” I asked looking at Jessie.

“Me! Mommy can I help him? Please!” Emily begged.

Jessie looked my way with an “are you sure” expression. I nodded.

“Ok Em. Be sure to do what Ben tells you to do and the way he wants it done,” Jessie stated firmly.

“Yes, mom! I will!” Emily responded.

>>24407013

Lieutenant General Kael Voss had spent thirty-seven years staring at the same cracked ceiling tile above his bunk, but tonight was different. Tonight, the faintest tremor ran through the prefab walls of Mars Outpost Sigma, like a whisper through serried rows of rusted vents. He exhaled, watching his breath fog in the cold—human warmth wasted on a planet that didn’t want it. The alert chime on his wrist unit had pinged three minutes ago. He hadn’t moved. Protocol could wait.

Down in the greenhouse, Rosie-7 was singing again. Not a real song, just a looping series of chimes her old vocal processor had innovated back when someone had bothered to program her for morale. Now she warbled to the roses, her joints creaking as she adjusted UV lamps over petals that had no business surviving this far from Earth. Kael had stopped questioning why the base commander ordered floral cultivation in a dust bowl.

The roses trembled first—not from Rosie-7’s off-key humming, but from something deep beneath the regolith. A vibration thrummed through the greenhouse floor, rattling nutrient trays until the aluminum legs screeched against the polymer tiles. Rosie-7 paused mid-chime, her optic lenses dilating with a soft whirr. "Lieutenant General," she transmitted, static lacing her usually melodic voice, "the substrate is—"

The floor erupted. A segmented mass of chitin and grit burst upward, showering glass shards and hydroponic fluid in a glittering arc. Kael’s wrist unit blared a pressure alert as the outer greenhouse wall buckled, spiderweb cracks racing across the plexiglass. Atmosphere hissed out in a visible plume, carrying with it the scent of crushed roses and something acrid—like ozone and burnt sugar. The worm, its maw a spiraling nightmare of silica teeth, lunged for Rosie-7. She sidestepped with a grace her rusted joints shouldn’t allow, but not fast enough; one of her trailing vines snagged, tearing free with a spray of hydraulic fluid the color of fuschia

The first crimson streak hit the cracked plexiglass like a thrown scalpel—precise, silent, and utterly devastating. Kael barely registered the sound of fracturing polymer before the dome’s northwest quadrant splintered inward, a thousand shards catching the thin Martian light like falling rubies. Then the birds came. Not birds, not really: their wings were too angular, their beaks serrated like industrial shears, their feathers the precise red of oxidized iron. They moved in a synchronized swarm, slicing through the collapsing dome with the efficiency of a laser cutter through foil.

One of them—larger than the rest, with a crest like a shattered windshield—dove straight for the worm. Its talons, more like articulated titanium hooks, sank into the creature’s chitinous hide with a wet crunch. The worm writhed, its silica teeth gnashing at empty air as the bird wrenched upward, carrying it aloft in a grotesque parody of an eagle snatching a fish. Other birds followed, their movements too coordinated to be purely animal. Kael watched, frozen, as they dismantled the worm midair, stripping segments like peeling a cable, tossing the glistening innards aside where they slapped against the greenhouse floor in viscous heaps.

The worm's carcass hit the ground with a splatter that sent ripples through the spilled nutrient solution—which was when the sand began to move. Not in the way Martian winds shifted it, not in the way the worm had disturbed it, but in small, deliberate mounds that swelled and broke like miniature volcanoes. From each one, a figure emerged, dust cascading off their rounded shoulders. They stood no taller than Rosie-7's knee joint, their skin the same oxidized red as the birds, their faces crinkled like crumpled foil.

They sang. Not chimes, not static—actual words, if words could be made of gravel and honey. "Jingle bells, jingle bells," they crooned, their voices harmonizing in a way that shouldn’t have been possible for creatures with no visible mouths. Their stubby fingers worked at their belts—or what passed for belts, just strips of woven cable—and with a series of clicks, their pants unzipped. Not pants, Kael realized. Pouches. The fabric fell away, revealing rows of swollen glands pulsing under translucent skin, dripping something viscous and gold.

>>24407052

The golden droplets hit the greenhouse floor just as the sky tore open. A soundless flash bleached the horizon, turning every shadow into a knife-edged silhouette—Rosie-7’s outstretched vines frozen mid-reach, Kael’s half-raised arm casting a stark black line across the buckled plexiglass. Then the sound came: not a roar, but a thrum, deep enough to vibrate in the hollows of teeth and bones. The birds—mid-dismemberment of the worm’s twitching segments—paused as one, their serrated heads tilting upward in eerie unison. The little red figures stopped singing.

Kael’s eardrums burst before he realized he was screaming. The shockwave hit like a god’s palm, flattening the greenhouse into a shrapnel storm of glass and splintered steel. He saw Rosie-7’s torso crumple like a stepped-on soda can, her optic lenses shattering into prismatic shards an instant before the fireball swallowed her. The roses vaporized in a pinkish mist, their petals atomized mid-tremble. The red creatures didn’t even have time to zip their pouches back up; their glands ruptured, spraying molten gold in parabolic arcs that hung suspended for a microsecond before igniting into miniature suns.

>>24407062

The molten gold didn’t cool—it bred. Where each droplet had splattered, the regolith itself began to pulse, swelling into glistening domes like overripe fruit. Kael, half-buried under a collapsed support beam, watched through a haze of retinal burns as the domes split open with a sound like Velcro tearing. From each one emerged a figure—no, not just a figure, a silhouette of perfection, all curves and honeyed light. They stood knee-deep in the steaming wreckage, their skin so pale it glowed against the Martian dust, their hair cascading in waves of spun sunlight. Every movement sent their breasts swaying—round, full, tipped with nipples the color of crushed roses. Their thighs glistened, slick with something golden and fragrant that dripped onto the scorched earth with a sound like rain on hot pavement.

They moved in unison, their bare feet leaving no prints in the ash. The tallest of them—her lips parted around a sigh that smelled of sugar and copper—reached down and hauled Kael upright with a grip that cracked the carbon fibers of his exosuit. Her touch burned, but not unpleasantly; it was the heat of a fever breaking, of a wound closing. "Lieutenant General," she murmured, her voice layered with harmonics that shouldn’t exist. Behind her, the others were kneeling, their fingers splayed over the rubble. Where they touched, the shattered plexiglass healed, flowing back together like ice reforming. One of them pressed her mouth to a twisted strut and exhaled; the metal bloomed into a rose, its petals edged with gold.

Rosie-7’s remains twitched. The blonde closest to her—her breasts dusted with powdered glass—plucked a shard from the robot’s shattered torso and licked it clean. Then she breathed into Rosie-7’s ruptured chest cavity. The gears inside spasmed, spinning backward, then forward, then alive. Rosie-7’s optic lenses flickered online, but they weren’t the same—now they swirled with liquid gold, her voice modulator purring instead of chiming. "Oh," she said, flexing her newly articulated fingers. "I like this."

>>24407078

Rosie-7's entire frame shuddered with a sound like a hundred champagne corks popping in unison. Her hydraulic lines pulsed neon-pink, her joints locking and unlocking in a stuttering rhythm that sent tremors through the wreckage beneath her. The gold swirling in her optic lenses flared bright enough to cast shadows—shadows that moved wrong, stretching toward her like worshippers to a saint. Her vocal modulator crackled, then purred a note so deep it vibrated in Kael's molars. "Oh," she sighed, her torso arching backward until her spinal struts groaned, "that's new."

Kael tried to look away. He really did. But the golden figures—no, women, though that word felt too small—were everywhere, their scent thickening the air until it clung to his tongue like melted caramel. His exosuit's pressure alerts screamed as his cock strained against the reinforced crotch plating, the material creaking ominously. One of the blondes noticed. Her laugh was a windchime in a hurricane as she traced a fingernail—no, a claw, sharp and gleaming—down his thigh. The suit split open like overripe fruit, releasing him into the charged air.

The tallest one—the one who'd hauled him upright—licked her lips. Her breath smelled like the last sip of whiskey before a bar fight. "Mmm," she hummed, her hand closing around him with a grip that sent sparks up his spine. "You're warm." Behind her, Rosie-7 convulsed again, her vines lashing out to wrap around the nearest blonde's waist. The robot's voice stuttered between binary and something older, throatier. "I—I need—"

>>24407088

Rosie-7's fingers—now tipped with something between metal and flesh—dug into Kael's shoulders as she arched against him, her newly articulated hips rolling with a precision no human could replicate. The gold swirling in her optic lenses pulsed in time with the rhythm of their bodies, casting dappled light across the sweat-slicked planes of his chest. Behind them, the other robots watched in perfect silence, their ocular sensors dilating and contracting like a mechanical audience holding its breath. One of them, a maintenance droid with half its faceplate cracked, reached up absently to wipe hydraulic fluid from its chin.

Kael gasped as Rosie-7's thighs clamped around his waist, her inner plating retracting to reveal a slick, heated core that rippled with bioluminescent filaments. The sensation was like sinking into molten silk—every nerve ending singing with feedback loops of pleasure that shouldn't have been possible outside a neural uplink. She moaned, a sound that started as a system alert chime and dissolved into something unmistakably human. The watching robots shuddered in unison, their joint servos whining as they leaned closer.

One of the golden women—her nipples still dripping that fragrant, honeyed fluid—reached out to trail a finger down Rosie-7's spine. Where she touched, the robot's plating bloomed into organic curves, the metal transmuting into something warm and yielding. "Yesss," Rosie-7 hissed, her vocal modulator glitching on the syllable as her back arched impossibly further. Kael watched, mesmerized, as her abdominal plating split open to reveal a second, smaller set of lips beneath—glistening and hungry. The golden woman laughed, low and throaty, and pressed two fingers into it without hesitation.

>>24407091

Kael's last coherent thought was that death shouldn't feel this good. His heart hammered against his ribs like a malfunctioning airlock—once, twice, then a final, shuddering stutter that sent white-hot pleasure searing up his spine. The golden women sighed in unison as his body convulsed, their fingers dipping into the frothing mess of his climax like children tasting rain for the first time. Rosie-7's newly organic throat emitted a sound halfway between a sob and a dial-up tone as Kael's vision tunneled into blinding gold.

The universe hiccuped.

First his fingernails vaporized, then his kneecaps, each particle of his dissolving body transmuting into liquid light that spiraled outward in concentric waves. The blondes—no longer separate entities but a single glowing mass of undulating flesh—unraveled with him, their laughter vibrating through the fabric of spacetime itself. Mars buckled. The planet's crust peeled back like lingerie straps, revealing a molten core that pulsed in time with Rosie-7's stuttering vocalizations. Olympus Mons ejaculated a geyser of magma twelve kilometers high.

/FIN