Pick her up from the factory

You're surprised to learn that the nearest Anime Robo-Sluts plant is only a fifteen-minute drive from your house. After making arrangements over the phone, you hang up, jump into your car, and head for ARS.

As you enter the lobby, a cheerful dark-haired girl greets you. It takes you a moment to realize that the receptionist is Melfina, another Outlaw Star character! "Oh!" you exclaim. "Excuse me, Miss, but are you...?"

"A bio-android? Oh, yes, the company likes to use us in lower-level positions. It saves a fortune on payroll!"

After a few moments' typing on her computer, the Melfina look-alike informs you that Aisha is already in the final stages of manufacturing. "I'll have them send her out to you as soon as she's done," she volunteers.

"Thanks, um..."

"You can just call me Melfina," she says with a shrug. "We're all programmed to respond to our models' names."

You lean back in your chair and grab a magazine from the rack. Clearly, ARS knows its clients' tastes, because they stock the waiting area with fresh issues of Playboy, Penthouse, Hustler, and a couple of other porn magazines, in addition to a few anime/manga mags like Shounen Jump.

Five minutes later, a door opens, and in walks the spitting image of Aisha Clan-Clan, her braided ponytail swinging behind her like a tail. Her bright blue eyes go straight to you, and Aisha smiles, sauntering over like she's just made the biggest score in the universe. "So, you're my master, hmmm?" She looks you up and down. "Huh. Not bad ... for a human, anyway."

"Well, you're not too bad either ... considering you can't cook worth beans."

"Hey! It's not my fault that human stomachs are too weak to handle real c'Tarl C'Tarl cooking."

"Um, Aisha," Melfina pipes up from behind the counter, "you do realize that there's no such thing as C'Tarl C'Tarl cooking, right? C'Tarl C'Tarl are just a made-up alien race from an anime series."

Aisha raises a finger, as if to give Mel a witty reply, but then her ego seems to visibly deflate. "Oh. Uh, right." Then, in typical Aisha fashion, she shifts from stymied confusion to molten anger. "Damn it! Why do I say things that don't make any sense?"

You can't help but smile. Robot or not, she sure acts like Aisha Clan-Clan. "Well, anyway, I guess we should be going. Come on, Aisha."

"Wait!" Mel calls out. "Aisha, aren't you forgetting your accessories?"

"Accessories?" Aisha asks incredulously. "What am I, a Barbie doll?"

"No, but do you really want to wear that outfit all day, every day?"

"Hmmm, good point." Walking back into the asembly area, Aisha disappears for a moment, then walks back out carrying a box that's nearly as big as she is. It looks heavy, but in typical Aisha fashion, she just carries it over one shoulder, seemingly without effort.

Bidding the Melfina look-alike one last goodbye, you lead Aisha back to your car, where she lays her accessory box across the back seat. "Hey, Aisha, do you know what's in that thing?"

Your white-haired catgirl just shrugs. "I've got no idea. I guess we'll just have to unpack it when we get to your house."

As you're getting into the car, you can't help but stare at Aisha's long, graceful, well-toned legs as she slides smoothly into the passenger seat. She catches you staring and flashes a sly grin. "Ah, so Master wants a taste of Aisha, huh?" Aisha spreads her legs ever so slightly so the hem of her short dress rides up, giving you a glimpse of her pubic mound, covered only by the sheer black material of her leggings.

"Well, don't worry, Master. Aisha is looking forward to spending plenty of quality time with you..."