I need answers.

"And you didn't order any sort of cum craving feature?" the voice on the other end of the phone asked...possibly for the third time. I hated customer support lines. I really needed to hurry this up. The last thing I needed was for Gaz to overhear my conversation.

Resisting the urge to sigh in frustration, I shook my head. "No, I didn't. There was nothing related to her appetite in what I ordered," I affirmed. I heard the clacking of a keyboard. "Ah, I think I see the problem. You had a very similar order to another customer. We recently had a complaint about a Gaz model that lacked that desired feature. There must have been a programming mix up. If you like, we can send someone to retrieve it. We'll have to wipe its memory to rid any trace of the cravings, however."

That made me pause. I COULD just start over. We'd meet up and do everything all over again...or I could set up a better meeting place. ...but... "I...I'm not sure if I can do that," I replied. The voice on the other end didn't seem surprised. "That's understandable, sir. Customers tend to get attached to the models they order, even if something isn't quite right. There is another option, but it will take considerably longer for it to work. A robo-slut's programming is designed to mold itself to the desire of its owner. If you maintain that the cravings are a bad thing, the frequency and urgency will begin to decrease in an attempt to match your desire. Eventually, the feature will be erased, but the memory of the events will not. This could take a little over a month to achieve, however."

As much as I wanted to correct the problem, I didn't want to lose my Gaz. Given that the programming molds itself to the situation, I may never have a Gaz quite like this one. Besides...while the pain and discomfort were troubling, the results weren't terrible. If it would take a month to erase, then it would take less time to tone it down some. "I'll do that then," I decided. "Uh...is there something I should tell her so that she won't worry that it's a medical condition...?"

More typing. "We can create a false article detailing a rare protein deficiency on a private web page and send e-mail it to you. Follow the link and show it to your Gaz model. It will believe it so long as you claim to. That should prevent any unwanted stress. How does that sound?"

"Perfect. How long will it take to be set up?" I asked. "Working on it now, sir. You'll get the e-mail within 24 hours. Is there anything else I could help you with?" I declined, thanked her, and hung up. Well, that was one less concern. Creeping down the hallway, I found the bathroom closed and the light shining from under the crack. Good, she was still in there. ...well, maybe not good, since I was on for quite some time. Either way, she hadn't overheard me. Perhaps I should check on her. On the other hand, if she's going to be a while, it would be a good opportunity to take a peek into her bags...