Fitness Instructor

Back in my apartment, I left the door open to let in some air. The sun was still strong outside, but the breeze off the sea made it bearable. I dropped the tablet on the table and sat down next to it, not touching it at first. The thrill from earlier still lingered — when Hana froze, and then came back ten minutes later as if nothing had happened. It had worked. I’d had an effect on one of them. Something outside their control, for once. And now I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Eventually I reached for the tablet and opened the admin page. The layout hadn’t changed — same flat design, no colours, just rows of text and toggles. But halfway down the list, below the reboot function, a new entry had appeared: “Cleaning Function”.

The name didn’t mean much. No explanation. Just a button, like before.

I didn’t press it. I just stared at it for a while. I had no idea what it would do. Would it trigger something obvious, or something invisible? Maybe it was literal. Maybe it was another test. But it was there, unlocked. That was the part that mattered. It felt like a game — something I could move forward. The beauty of the island was wearing thin. I was more bored now. More lonely. The hotel didn’t need me for anything. Not really. But this… this I could shape. Even if it felt risky.

I turned off the tablet and leaned back in the chair. Outside, I could hear birds — maybe a gull calling up near the cliffs. The room was still. Clean. Nothing moved. My brain was burning. I went to bed, the next day was going to be busy with testing the new function on my friends, the bots.

The next morning came slowly. I didn’t sleep well. The air felt heavy, and my thoughts kept circling the same track: the dashboard, the unlocked functions, the strange feeling of power it gave me. I took my coffee out to the terrace. The sea was flat and grey, with low clouds sitting close to the horizon. Hopefully it would not be too sunny that day. Another day with full freedom to wander the hotel grounds. I hadn’t seen another guest since I arrived. I still didn’t know if there were supposed to be any. Maybe the whole place had been emptied for me. Or maybe it was always like this.

In the silence, I realised how little I’d spoken in the last few days. The bots replied when I asked things. They smiled, followed instructions. But it wasn’t company. It was theatre. Well rehearsed, perfectly timed. Never quite real. Even with Irina, who had more presence than the others, there was always a sense that she was performing. Not for me, but for the system.

Still, I wasn’t unhappy. Not exactly. The strange thing was, my mood had lifted. Slightly. I wasn’t feeling better in a wholesome way. It was more like I’d found something to chase. The game-like structure of it, the mystery, gave me something to think about. I felt alert. More alive than I’d been in weeks.

There was a thrill in it, the kind you get when you realise no one’s watching, and you might get away with something.

I finished my coffee and went back inside. The tablet was still on the table. I picked it up and stared at the blank homepage for a few seconds, then opened the admin page again. “Cleaning Function” was still there, still waiting. I was already thinking through the tests I might run — which bot, what setting — when I saw her. A woman was standing in the kitchen.

I dropped the tablet. The mug slipped from my other hand and cracked loudly against the floor. Pure reflex. I hadn’t heard her come in. No footsteps, no voice. She was just… there. A woman was standing in the kitchen.

I dropped the tablet. The mug slipped from my other hand and cracked loudly against the floor. Pure reflex. I hadn’t heard her come in. No footsteps. No voice. She was just… there.

She didn’t react. Just looked at me, her expression perfectly calm, like someone observing the weather.

“Good morning,” she said.

She was beautiful, startlingly gorgeous. Blonde, tall, barefoot like the others, but somehow softer in appearance. Nordic features, lightly freckled skin, pale eyes. Her uniform had short sleeves and loose trousers made her seem more real, less like a rendering.

“Jesus,” I muttered, still breathless. “You scared me.”

“That wasn’t my intention,” she said. Her voice was light and smooth. She spoke the way someone might after a long run. Relaxed. Present.

I bent to pick up the tablet. “Who are you?”

“I’m Penelope,” she said. “I’ve been assigned to monitor your physical health.”

“My what?”

“Your heart rate has been inconsistent,” she said. “Something to look into.”

I stared at her. “You’re tracking my heart rate?”

“Sorry, I just checked before coming over.” she said with a smile. “I take pride in my job!”

There was a beat of silence. Her voice had a texture that was not present on the other robots. Penelope felt more real. So far. I walked to the machine and poured some more coffee into a second cup.

“You want one?”

She blinked once, then nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”

I filled another cup and handed it to her and watched her hold it. She did it properly and naturally, with both hands, like someone who actually drank coffee. No performance. No flourish. I took a few moments to look her up, at this point I knew the robots did not get offended by me checking them out. She was lean and fit, but full in the right places. While her face was her most stunning feature, her hips and breasts were very sexy too.

“You like what you see?” She asked, which was unexpected and made me feel embarrassed.

“Oh, sorry, I’m sorry” I flustered.

“That’s ok, don’t worry about it.” She replied with a smile.

“Sit?” I asked, gesturing to the sofa.

“Sure!” She sat without hesitation, leaving the cup on the table, untouched. She sat back and crossed one leg over the other. I sat across from her and took a sip from my own cup.

It was quiet for a moment.

“I’m still not used to the way you all just appear,” I said.

“We want to avoid unnecessary disruptions,” she replied. “I may have misjudged the moment.”

“No, it’s fine,” I said. “I’m just not used to being watched so closely.”

“I’m not watching!” she said with a laugh. “I am so sorry for startling you.”

I gave a short laugh. “You did give my heart a jump!” I hadn’t heard anyone laugh in a while.

“I could help,” she said. “With your health. We have a fitness area. I’d be happy to work with you. If you’re interested.”

She said it plainly, but the way she looked at me as she said it made it feel almost... flirtatious. Not overt, not performative. Just natural.

“I’ll think about it,” I said. “It’s been a while since I had a personal trainer.”

She smiled faintly, looking me in the eyes. “Then you’re overdue.”

We sat for another few seconds. She didn’t rush. She didn’t fill the silence. And oddly, that made me want to speak more.

“You seem…” I hesitated. “Different from the others.”

“In what way?”

“More present,” I said. “Like you’re not just… following some hospitality protocol.”

“We all have different settings, we don’t want to come across like an army of stormtroopers,” she said. “I am glad that you like my style. You should try my training skills too.”

I didn’t answer right away. I could feel the weight of her attention, but it didn’t feel scripted. Not like Irina. Not like Hana. Penelope watched me like she was actually listening.

“Alright,” I said at last. “Let’s try something later. Training, I mean. Tonight?”

“Nineteen hundred?” she asked.

“Fine.”

She rose fluidly, still holding the untouched cup of coffee. “Thanks for the coffee, it smells delicious.”

That last sentence broke the spell for me, a harsh reminder of her artificial nature. Which reminded me of the new function in the tablet.

“One more question, please, Penelope.” I asked as I reached for the tablet.

“As many questions as you wish, Peter.” She replied, standing by the door.

I thought this would be as good a time as any. Without prompt or indication, I just pressed the “Cleaning Function” button.

She paused.

For a few seconds, her posture slackened. Not frozen, but still. Then something shifted.

“Oh, let me clean up the mess before I go,” she said suddenly. “I made you drop your mug, after all. Would that be alright?”

“Err… sure,” I said. “Be my guest.”

She walked to the kitchen without hesitation, took a towel, and crouched by the floor. Carefully, she wiped the spilled coffee, picked up the broken pieces of the mug with her bare hands. For a second, I had the ridiculous impulse to warn her — to say she might cut herself. Then I remembered. No blood. No pain. At least, that’s what I assumed. I felt my cock stir watching her on her fours on the ground. She had a sexy posture, with her back arched so slightly and her arse sticking out.

When she finished, she stood and paused again, just for a moment.

Then her eyes refocused.

“See you this evening, Peter,” she said, with a bright, even smile.

And then she was gone.