Commission: Testing Tiff

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This is a commissioned piece for an anonymous user.  It is free to read for whoever. 

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A young Caucasian woman stood in the middle of a large, featureless room, open, vacant, well-lit. She gave off the impression that she was too good to be here, looking all the part of a punk: nose piercing, messy blonde hair, cut short with highlights. The sort of person that looked more at home milling about under a highway overpass.

"Are you ready to begin, Tiffany?" A woman's monotonic voice rattled from the intercom.

She glared towards a speaker, tapping her barefoot with marked impatience. She recalled having to remove her shoes for """security reasons"""; she presumed the lady operating the controls had a foot fetish.

"Yeah, are we starting? Does this bad mother do anything, or does it just stand there, menacingly?" Tiffany scoffed, folding her arms.

She glanced at the room's other occupant: a fifteen-foot-tall humanoid robot with a broad, intimidating stature. Well, intimidating to most people: Tiffany wasn't easy to impress.

"Very well. Beginning weapons testing for prototype XC912." The intercom rattled. "First test: cryogenic projectile."

"Ooh, that's new." Tiffany rolled her eyes, brushing her bangs back.

The robot whirred to life, raising one of its arms. It took aim at Tiffany's chest...

Kchunk! A large dart launched from the robot's wrist, piercing Tiffany's pronounced chest. Tiffany dully lowered her eyes, unmoved by the way the projectile went straight through where her heart would've been.

"Seriously? Lawn darts?" She yawned, tapping her finger. "That's the deadliest thing DARPA could come up with?"

"R&D considered your feedback from prior tests and made some adjustments to the """bad mother""". Take a few steps." The intercom rattled again.

Tiffany sighed, complying with the instructions. But she was having some difficulty moving. Her peach-coloured skin was getting so pale, so frosty...

"...hah..." She huffed, a wisp of cold air escaping her lips. Her entire body felt increasingly stiff, brittle, as a wave of chill overcame her. She tried to raise her right arm to her chest, but it wasn't cooperating; every joint in her body creaked warily. She grunted, redoubling her effort...

CRACK! A fissure formed just underneath her right elbow, frost forming on her skin. Her forearm dangled, before falling to the hard floor. She watched as it shattered into small pieces. She stared at her shared arm, the inner fissures comprising the same colour as her skin—no bones, blood, muscles.

She raised her left hand to rub her bissected arm, feeling a pinching sensation as her other arm fell to pieces too, clattering to the floor. She wiggled her nubs, trying to take a step; she couldn't wiggle her toes, they were frozen to the floor!

Her eyes widened as her ankles shattered. She tipped over and, upon impact, her body shattered like a plate thrown at the wall! The intense cold that overcame her numbed her to the sensation of her body splitting into a hundred porcelain pieces; she felt the dart embedded in her clatter to the floor as her breasts slid apart.

Her forehead was caved in, her head rolling over to the side. The look of befuddlement was frozen on her face, her eyes shifting about.

"Y-y-you made that just for me, didn't you? Ffffucker...!" She shivered.

"You're fine. Your body's clay-like composition is quite stubborn." The intercom clarified with a sarcastic lint. "Now pull yourself back together, we've other tests."

"Nrgh..." Tiffany huffed, feeling the intensely cold feeling ebb away. Her body was still brittle, like a shattered vase, but she could at least move. Her arms crawled about on their fingers, rubbing the contact points of her scattered limbs to warm them up, before smooshing them back upon her torso. Her disembodied feet had to scrunch their toes, dragging across the floor to reconnect to her ankles.

She did a sloppy rush job reassembling herself; one of her eyes was put back in upside down, one of her thumbs stuck out the wrong way, and one of her feet was backwards. She hobbled to her feet, staring the robot down.

"Y-you could've told me about the cold testing, I would've brought a jacket!" Tiffany hissed.

"The cold builds character," The intercom rattled. "Not to worry, this should warm you right back up. Initiating the second test."

The robot whirred to life again, raising its hand. A red, searing hot laser shot out from its pointed index finger, again directly at Tiffany's chest. She gasped; the residual cold and brittleness ebbed away in an instant as she felt warm to her core.

"Aaaaaaah, that's the stuff..." She sighed with relief, closing her eyes and sticking her chest out as if to present herself to the robot. The warm sensation travelled through her body as the laser travelled along her torso, cutting through her clothes in a perfect circle.

Tiffany felt a curious pink, followed by a sliding sensation in her chest. She peeked through one eye, watching as a section of her torso, cut into a perfect circle, slowly slid out of her, plopping behind her with a wet slap.

She stared through the hold in her body, raising a hand to insert into the perfect cavity in her chest. She giggled to herself, sliding her fingers into her hold with playful abandon.

ZZT! Her fingers got sliced off by the laser, plopping to the floor.

"Hey!" She pouted, looking up to the robot to shake a fist.

ZZT! The laser moved again, taking off her entire right arm. It plopped to the floor.

"HEY!" Her eyebrows furrowed. "Why I oughta..."

ZZTZZTZZT! The laser made broad sweeping cuts horizontally, vertically, back and forth, lopping off her head and neatly cutting her body into large chunks. They plopped against the floor, her limbs flailing about and her head landing face first.

"That warmed you up a bit, yes?" The intercom rattled, the voice behind it coming off as more than a bit smug.

"Laugh it up, you yutz." Tiffany muttered indignantly. Not content to be a pile of limbs, she gets to work reassembling herself. This time it was less like doing a shitty job of solving a puzzle, and more like doing a shitty job of reassembling a mannequin. One of her arms grabbed for one of her legs and stuck it into the side of her torso. It took her a touch too long to figure out what to do with herself from there.

"Tick tock, Tiff." The intercom taunted; this elicited a groan from Tiffany, and she went to work smooshing herself back together without care or precision. Not only did she end up with a leg for an arm and an arm for a leg, but they seemed to be twisted. Whenever she pressed a disembodied limb to her body—with some forceful coercion—it shlorped back onto her form, forming a seamless connection.

Well. Seamless as far as it remained adhered. She looked like a doll made from scrap parts.

She hopped, balling her fist as she tried to prop herself up on it, hoisting up the piece of her chest and stuffing it back inside of her.

"Seriously using lasers and freezing bullets on enemy soldiers?" Tiffany rolled her eyes, trying to rotate that central piece of her body back properly. "If I didn't know better, I think you were getting off on this shit."

"This is providing valuable data." The intercom lady mused with a playful lith. "Those lasers were designed for bunker installations; it cuts cleanly, precisely, and with love and care~"

"Pfft. Alright." Tiff patted herself down. The logo on the front of her shirt was a bit crooked, but it would have to do. "Hit me again."

"Test number three is a go." The intercom rattled. "Brace yourself."

"Eh?" Tiffany squinted, seeing a panel at the front of the robot opening...

Thwip thwip thwipthwipthwip! A barrage of small spider mines were launched at rapid speeds; each was like a black marble with piercing claws. Tiff staggered back upon the impact of each one planting itself painlessly into her body. Across her head, in her arms and legs. One went high and stuck itself just above her right eye.

She tensed up, looking herself over. Maybe it was due to the anxiety-inducing beeping sounds each one was giving off.

"...uhhh..." Tiff grimaced.

"You like games, Tiff?" The intercom rattled. "Pick a number between one and five."

"...okay, uh, thre-"

BOOM! One embedded in her right arm exploded!—well, her right leg, which was her arm at the moment She flailed her arm, indiscernible strands of gummy flesh stretching like bubble gum with the impact. She appraised the damage, grimacing as her flesh unfurled to the ground.

"HEY! At least let me pick a number!" Tiffany shouted indignantly.

"My apologies. I got excited." The intercom rattled with a cryptic chuckle.

BANG! There went her other arm, flanking the other. She could feel a chunk of plasticine flesh stick to the side of her head as she staggered the other way. She waved her limbs, fruitlessly trying to find balance.

"Oops. Finger slipped." Again, the intercom taunted Tiffany; her eyes shot up with a dirty look.

BANG BANG! Two more exploded in quick succession. One was in her gut, leaving a considerable hole where her torso was, looking somewhat like someone had blown and popped some oversized, peach-coloured bubble gum. Another took out her knee, and she slumped to the ground, looking less like a punk girl and more like so many strands of disparate strands.

There was a pause. The narrow threads that used to be her arms tried to twist together into proper appendages; this produced a shaky, double-helixed tendril. She nervously raised it to the one embedded in her head.

BANG!

The last one knocked her head clean back; she flopped down to the floor, her hair matted as her pliable skull was forced into an unsightly hole, resembling a partially-eaten donut. Without legs, without half a head, and the loosest facsimile of arms writhing along the ground, she grounded, raising her hips and taking in the sensations of being reduced to so much technicolour mush.

"I can see you're having a blast down there." The intercom woman noted.

"Barely felt a thing." Tiffany muttered. She was already pulling herself better, forming tendons, thighs, legs underneath her. She wiggled her toes with a smirk as she stood back up. "Your dumbass wordplay is the hardest part about this."

"Hah. Touche." The intercom lady chuckled. "Well, how about we wrap things up?"

"What?" Tiff cocked her head up; her head was sloooowly pulling itself back together. "I'm a mess down here."

"Well, the boys are excited to see this last feature be put to use, so... initiating the final test."

The robot froze up, opening hidden compartments and inverting itself. Its head tilted back, opening up in a strange way... like an opening maw, lined with razor-sharp knives. Knife-like claws sprouted from its fingers. Tiff, trying to pull herself back together as she watched the display play out, grimacing in turn.

"...Did you make... a robot dinosaur??" Tiffany muttered, astonished.

"Raptor, specifically." The intercom lady clarified. "Let me just futz with the controls here and... eh, too complicated. Setting to auto-pilot."

Before Tiffany could react, the mechanized raptor was already on her. She exclaimed with surprise, feeling its razor-sharp fangs digging into her skin effortlessly, enclosing around her head. The robot shook its head violent, her neck stretching like taffy under the pressure.

She hollered something indistinctly, flailing her arms as her body pulled and stretched in every direction under the beast's strong grip! Her breasts jiggled with the exertion...

Suddenly, Tiffany's view of the world inverted and everything seemed to spin around her. She screamed in terror, feeling her body being ripped apart...

Splat! She winced as she felt herself hit something. When she opened her eyes, she found herself far above the robot raptor. She glanced around with looks of curious trepidation...

"...Damn thing tore my head clean off..." She muttered incredulously. She noted how her head was splatted, and adhered to the ceiling. She looked down to her body, pinned underneath the creature. Its claws hovered menacingly over her chest.

"HEY! HANDS OFF THE MERCHANDISE!" She shouted at the top of her lungs.

RIP! The creature tore into what remained of Tiffany's body! Claws slashed at her arms, tearing them off in long, gummy strands and, with great strength, casting her limbs to the far corners of the room; they rolled into unrecognizable mush upon landing.

The raptor took massive gnashing bites out of her body, chewing her up and spitting her out like so many wads of gum. Bits and pieces of her flung everywhere.

Tiffany's head squirmed, moaning to herself. She could feel everything, every tactile sensation through her disparate pieces of her body. She wriggled her head, shaking it more and more... before long, it peeled off from the ceiling!

"I'll get you for that!" Her head plummeted, landing on the raptor's head. It seemed to pause its orgy of violence, cocking its head up as Tiffany's blobby head hopped up and down in an indignant rage.

"...Well. I think we have more than enough data for the day. Time for clean up and disinfectant."

---

It took a while for Tiffany to pull herself back together after that ordeal. Her body had been reduced to a doughy-consistency, and she had to roll around the room just to pick up all the disparate pieces that got chewed up and tossed around.

When she felt like everything was in one place, she formed a pile of plasticine ooze, jutting up like a pillar. Tendrils formed into fingers and arms, a naked, sexless form moulded itself into something humanesque. Her clothes formed from the ooze, fluttering. She scoffed, brushing herself off, squishing around her face to see if everything was in one piece.

"Ugh, that was an ordeal and a half." She groaned, turning towards a reflective surface to look herself over. Everything appeared to be in order.

"You performed commendably, Tiffany. As usual." The intercom lady praised her with all the pomp of a middle-management promotion.

"Yeah yeah, just sent my payment to the usual place. And do it quickly!" She barked. "After today, I need a massage..."

"Oho? Perhaps I could indulge you..." The intercom lady cooed; the robot wiggled its fingers playfully. Tiffany glanced over, her eyebrow perking up.

"Seriously? If you're gonna talk like that, at least man up and do it yourself." She scoffed, turning towards the door. She performed a streeeetch, letting her arms extend over her head bonelessly a good ten feet. "Don't get your dumbass robot to do it for you."

"Mhmhm~ Is that an invitation?" The intercom lady chuckled. "I'll have to make plans for the next time you're here."

"Tch. Get real." Tiffany rolled her eyes. She paced towards the doors, sneakers forming around her bare feet. She dismissively waved. "Later."

"See you again soon, Tiffany."

The intercom cut out. It was time for cleanup detail.