Re-Sleeved
Can Be Read In:
A story about a young humaniod AI created to work in the Red-Light District who struggles with the body they were assigned.
I was created in the city of New Astartania, and honestly, I got pretty lucky. The city has its faults, is a bit grimy and the people aren’t always the nicest, but it’s a lot more progressive than the other main cities I’ve heard about. If you’re anything like me in a place like that, good luck, you’ll definitely be leaving with a few bruises at best. New Astartania is full of bright lights, big shots, and people who are always forgotten, stepped on, ran over. I fall into the forgotten category, exempt from a certain kind of clientele.
​
The Red-Light District ordered me to be made in about December of 3025? I think. My memory is honestly a bit fuzzy from around that time. There was a need for more workers, so here I am. I’ve been in the business for around two years now and I think I’ve gotten used to it; I’m still not entirely pleased though. I don’t hate my job. Don’t get me wrong it can be a bit demeaning at times, but I do enjoy providing people some pleasure. I mean, that is what I was created for, so I guess it only makes sense. I'd be defective otherwise and probably junked within a week, repurposed for something else. 
Thankfully due to the advancement in technology I’ve been able to help my uneasiness a bit. When I was originally sleeved, I was put into a model F-2DD which I immediately felt uncomfortable in. I know you’re probably thinking, how? Aren’t you just a piece of software? Although I technically am. I am an adaptive software and do have my own ‘being’ or ‘sprit’, or whatever you want to call it. Anyways, I’ve been able to change my sleeve, slowly. Us AI’s can purchase ‘enhancements’ I guess you can say. 
My original model F-2DD meant that I was female and had DD-sized breasts. In all honesty, I’ve never felt very feminine. It became increasingly uncomfortable for me to deal with clients who specifically requested me for the assets I had, so I changed them. So far, I’ve been able to afford to reduce, and pretty much get rid of my breasts which is a relief. I feel a lot more confident, and like myself in my sleeve now. 
I know I was intentionally created as a female because there is a greater demand for them in the industry, but it just doesn’t feel right to me. One thing that is a plus of still technically being categorized as ‘female’ means that I make more money. Since there’s such high demand, we can have any number of clients per night and make good coin from them. Plus, tips. Over time I’ve been using this money to slowly get modifications done to hide my femininity. Besides the breast reduction, I don’t know if people have noticed yet. As far as I know, they still think I’m female and advertise me as one, which is fine for now. I need this job.  
I am worried about them finding out though. Also, you know, not being wanted and or desired anymore. I’m scared I will just be discarded, thrown away for being defective. For not being good enough. I don’t know what will happen to me if I am no longer accepted in the Red-Light District. New Astartania isn’t exactly the most forgiving place.  
Aside from that, I’m currently on my way to get something small done. I want to exchange out my long brown hair for something much shorter and maybe in a fun color like purple. The place I’m headed to is in quite a sketchy bit of the city. A lot of the shops for AI are since we’re not nearly as important as the humans who live here. From the Red-Light District to where I’m headed is an interesting walk, to say the least. You get a lot of drunken human bums who may or may not have a great outlook on AIs living in their world, and the sort of services they offer. 
Even though it's not my fault I always get a lot of people yelling at me saying things like “whore”, “slut”, etc. I’ve learned to ignore it and not let it bother me. It is what it is in this world. The same people who say these things also show up at our doorstep the next week after fighting with their wives so, it's hard to take them seriously. As I walk down the street, I can hear the faint noise of a slurred argument ending with the smash of a bottle and a man leaving the bar with his hand to his head, blood slowly dripping down his face. We make eye contact momentarily and he scoffs “bitch” under his breath and turns to walk in the other direction. Fine, I wasn’t going to show you any sympathy anyway. 
 
As I approach the block the upgrade shop is on, I notice someone standing at the corner with a handful of flyers. They look out of place, nervous as if this was their first time in this part of town. Human, definitely. A flurry of wind brushes past causing the flyers they are holding to go everywhere, one landing near my feet. I briefly scan over the flyer; it details an all-inclusive café opening soon. They’re looking for employees. 
 
I decide to help pick up some of the loose flyers as it seems like they desperately need the help. Currently, they are franticly chasing them up and down the street. Quite hilariously, they almost trip over themselves. As I get closer, I seem to notice that this person doesn’t look particularly male or female. Could they be like me? They have short black hair that juts out in different directions. They are fairly short and wearing a pair of light-wash overalls with a sunflower tee-shirt underneath. 
After I finish picking up the rest of the flyers, I approach them, tapping them on the shoulder. They are startled by my sudden approach and turn quickly to face me. 
“Hey, here’s the rest of your flyers,” I say.  
“Ohmygosh, thank you so much!” they respond, fidgeting a little bit, not quite sure what to do with all the papers I just handed them. “I started to panic a bit there”, yeah, I could tell.   
“It’s all good no worries,” I start to twist one of the rings I’m wearing as I ask, “What's the deal with the café?” 
“Oh, that! It’s real neat. A friend and I are trying to start a café where everyone’s welcome,” they smile as they tell me all about it. “It’ll be a place for humans and AIs of any gender identity or sexual orientation to relax... a safe place.” 
“I’ve never heard of anything like that, definitely not in New Astartania.” 
“That’s why we’re starting it,” they pause momentarily, swaying in their place. They kindly extend out one of the flyers to me, “You should check it out.” 
“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I will,” I say with a slight smile and a hint of disbelief. Is there really a chance I can work there? And be accepted as me?  
To not have to pretend anymore. 

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