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Clockwork Maid

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Time and time again she has been thwarted by her arch-nemesis, a friend-enemy as it were. Crisis, an anthropomorphic robotic Utahraptor, with green metal plates, with blue eyes, gem markings, deadly claws, and deadly brains, has been at odds with Chaos Croc, a smug know-it-all robotic lizard that was to a large degree, responsible for her own creation, albeit indirectly. Many of her plans have been defeated by him, taken, turned into some kind of servant for a few days, a week? A month? And then sent back, or till her body back up kicks in and rescues her. It's a game he likes to play and sure she likes to play it too, but more often than not she’s been the loser, but far from always. This time though she has a plan, one that she finds to be very clever, though her companions back in her dimension think otherwise.

“I know this will work. He’ll never suspect it,” she thinks, as this adventure starts like so many others she has done before, infiltrating his capital city of Neo-robia. But this time, she has an ace up her sleeve. She moves through the robotic citizens, pretending to be part of them. Signs dedicated to Chaos Croc’s greatness are all over the place, with his image just as often, along with hypnotic traps for those unaware, a normal protective measure against those that will stand against him. Memories of some of the times she’s failed pop into her mind, but she pushes them away. This time, she is sure this plan will be the one that will succeed as she slinks into a basement shop that has the name “Grandfather Time Clocks.”

Stealthily she slinks down into the shop. Old fashioned clocks adorn the walls of the shop as she enters. A simple bell rings as she opens the door. The sound of gears churning, clock sticking fill the shop with an ambiance that is easy enough to ignore, but feels unnaturally calming to the synthetic raptor, “Hello? Are you there?” she calls out, feeling her on edge programming, soften with each passing moment. So many clocks, some with swinging pendulums going side to side… side to side. It’s rather nice to look at for a moment, but before she gets too pulled into any clock, she reaches the front desk where a gun metal fox with light purple and green markings, stands hunched over shut down.

She instantly is put on alert, looking around, her electro-blades pop out of her wrists, cackling with energy, ready to have an ambush drop on her at any moment. Yet with each passing moment with nothing but the sounds of the clocks all around her, she calms down, retracting the crackling blades back into her wrists, her gentle blue glowing crystal on her head dims a bit just as she catches a sign, “If shut down, please turn my key. If the key is not visible, check the floor. I may have lost it again. ^^”

“Key?” she mutters, looking over her fellow machine, peering over the counter to see a rather large black metal key with purple inlaid markings and the key handle looks like a fanciful tailfin. “How strange… but what am I to do, she’s my contact,” she huffs, slinking behind the counter, grabbing the key that is over a foot and a half in length, she searches where to put it, eventually finding a hexagonal keyhole. She inserts it, taking a step back as nothing happens, “Right, turn it,” she remarks, giving the key a single turn. Nothing happens, “What in the worlds…” she grumbles, giving the key several turns… nothing happens.

She synthetically sighs, grabbing the note on the counter, noticing small text by an asterisk, “Please turn the key all the way till it stops. It's the only way I get going once I stop moving. Please be kind. I'm an older model. ^^”

She rolls her eyes, giving the key several turns till she could feel a spring resistance making it hard even for her synthetic strength, “This better be enough,” she grumbles, letting go. The key begins to spin in the other direction nice and slow, and with it the machine begins to stir with clicks and a whir.

“Huh, oh my key dropped out!” she swings around almost running right into Crisis, “Oh my gosh! I am so sorry, when did you get here?!” she exclaims, bowing in apology, knocking over something behind her and almost bumping into Crisis’ chest. Her sleek black and white maid outfit squeaking as it clings to her body.

“Relax, relax. You’re making a mess.”

“How dreadful of me,” she says with a bashful giggle, “That’s the exact opposite of my purpose.”

Crisis shoots her a look, “I can see that, but I am not here for any cleaning services, right Allura?”

Allura smiles, regaining her composure as she moves on her black high heels with surprising ease, “Right, you are totally right. I just got my key knocked out and I know I was getting close to my wind-up time to get me into the auto-winder, but I wanted to make sure everything was ready for your arrival.”

“And were you?”

“I was. I just managed to finish everything when I noticed I dropped my key, and I was looking all over for it. And I just managed to get to it when I ran out of the spring in my step,” she explains, ending with a little giggle.

“Right… Now, when I discussed things with you, it was you right?”

“That it was!” she said blissfully.

“I’m not sure if I should be pleased to hear that or more concerned. Anyway, you told me you had a foolproof way of me getting close enough to croc to ensnare him into a ploy of which there is no escape.”

The devilish vixen nods, “Yup, first we need to get you a brand-new attire. One that will surely trick him to get in close once he’s in range.”

Crisis nods, “I like the sound of that,” she remarks as the vixen closes the shop, showing off her swaying hips, that swinging tail, that moves like the pendulum of the clocks, drawing her gaze for a moment as she is brought back to reality by her companion’s giggle.

“Follow me darling and we’ll get you suited right away,” she says, motioning with her finger to follow into the back of the shop where the sounds of the ticking of clocks grows stronger.

“Sure, sure,” she replies, entering a back room with a surprisingly long hallway, but they don’t go far down before entering a room with a raptor dress stand with a sleek, shiny, short skirt black and white maid dress with plenty of frills to tease and be embarrassed by, “Tada!”

Crisis shoots her a look, placing a hand on her waist, she sighs, “Really? A maid outfit? I’ve done that, one thousand, three hundred, and sixty-eight times so far. And guess what? My win ratio with it is only 68.9% And I am not too sure if it's on purpose or not that’s been that way.”

“It has a high chance of working then! And there’s more to it than that. This is just the start of it.”

“There better be. Most of my losses I end up in something like this. Which has turned me off from using it as a blow no matter how sexy it is…” she shakes her head, “Shoo, shoo. Damn lingering Croc data. Go away, I am not turned on by them as much as he is, just more … Wait no, I didn’t mean it like that,” she thinks.

“Are you okay Crisis? You’ve been quiet for longer than average.”

“Huh, what? No, no I was just lost in thought for a moment. So, you want me to put this on as part of the plan?”

“Yup! Trust me, it will work like a charm.”

Criss sighs again, “Eh, sure. What do I have to lose?”

The vixen grins, “Nothing that you have to worry about losing, I can assure you that.”

Crisis gives her a little look, her gaze checking around as she scans the maid outfit for anything that might catch her attention as being off, but aside from its delightful glossy look, nothing stands out as a threat to her, “Alright…” she mutters, about to grab the maid outfit when Allura yells out.

“Wait! I forgot. We need to polish your metal. If you aren’t clean and shiny, he won’t be drawn to you.”

She takes a step back away from the dress, “That makes sense. He does love his shine. And to make it dirty one way or another,” she remarks, thinking about the several times she was given sewer duty while under his puppeting command.

Allura pulls out a polishing cloth, “Here, let me do it. I’ll be sure you shine like a brand-new car right off the lot,” she says with a giggle.

With a sideways look she retorts, “I prefer not to be referred to as an automobile. A car to be driven and rode.”

She giggles, “Sorry about that,” she responds, dipping the cloth into a sleek shiny polish, which she begins to apply along the raptor’s tail.

“Ahh, cold,” she shudders, feeling the cloth move across her metallic skin, leaving her metal tingling with delight. And as the vixen steadily works her way up each of her segmented metal parts the relaxation grows, “That feels rather nice,” she responds with a soft delightful robotic raptoric purr. She closes her eyes as she’s continued to be worked over, delight and pleasure filling her system as she gets this tickle itch to be polished more. The areas of her body not covered in it, aching to have the same tender touch.

“How’s it going?” she asks as she finishes off the tail, getting the underside nice and firmly, the cloth gliding across the metal as the tail is hiked, before transferring over to the raptor’s rear.

“Good, good. Keep it up, I want to look good for Chaos Croc,” she states, feeling a tingle of pleasure through her words. Something about it sounded nice but she wasn’t sure what.

“You will darling,” she says, sliding the cloth around the raptors thighs and legs, working her way down.

“Good,” she responds, feeling the delight grow. Her blue eyes dim a bit more as he sinks into the polishing, the bliss of the moment as the cloth moves across her thighs, washing off anything that would prevent the wonderful glistening glossy shine. She looks at the maid, watching her work so diligently, so focused while the key on her back turns away ever so slowly. The swaying of her tail draws her into a momentary daze as the faint sound of the ticking clocks from the storefront add a soft ambiance that just lulls one into a sense of safety and security.

“That’s it. Relax and be ready. Chaos Croc won’t be fooled if you are up tight like you have a stick up your rear,” she says, gently caressing along the machine’s thighs, polishing along the smooth segmented metal, around her claws, up along the inner thigh, across her robotic smooth crotch, sending shivers of delight through the machine.

“Careful…” she faintly complaints, listening to the clocks, leaning into the touch as she moves along her sides, up along her back. The polish cools, soothing any concerns, complaints as the clockwork machine goes across her the raptor’s belly, breasts, sliding the cloth along the raptor’s neck, getting the head.

“I am being careful. Just trust me and everything will be just fine.”

Tick, tock, Crisis swears she can hear the moving of gears, the slow turning of the other machine’s key as it turns. She watches it, the swaying hips, so very hypnotic as she just listens and nods, “I trust you. Everything will be fine. And Chaos Croc will be defeated,” she purrs, a smile creeping across her face.

She returns the smile, grabbing the rubber maid outfit from the dress maid, “Why yes. He will be defeated, that's for sure. What you need to do next is to slip on this maid attire. It’ll look so good on you, wouldn’t you agree?”

As she takes the latex attire to her claws, her body tingles with the contact with the latex, making her circuits jump with delight, a warm glow washing over her as she feels this subtle desire to slip the maid outfit on, to feel it across her metallic skin. The raptor grins in kind, “Why I do agree. It will look good on me. Chaos Croc has good tastes, meaning I have to look good too. It will be the only way to truly fool him,” she lets out a raptoric synthetic purr, slipping the maid dress over her body. The latex wants to cling across her metallic skin, the polish helping it slide on but become tighter as it settles into place, conforming along her metallic body, the dress wraps around her waist and breasts, binding tightly along her back, while the frill dress and ends remain nice and free.

Crisis shivers her tail hiking a little bit, feeling a little desire to sway her hips, “The dress does feel nice,” she purrs, running her claws along the latex, enjoying the soft squeak, till long black and white frill gloves are held out in front of her.

“It should, here,” Allura smiles, “Let me help you put these on.” Her glowing purple eyes catch hers, “Let me prepare you for wearing these lovely gloves.”

Crisis feels drawn to them, like she’s sinking into an ocean, “Thanks, I could use the help,” she says with a little giggle and smile, watching her run her fingers across Crisis’ wrist blades and with a shudder, a click followed by a thunk they fall off.

“Hey!” she exclaims, about to snap out of it when the vixen places a claw on her lips.

“Shh, relax. If you have your iconic electro-blades on, he’ll know in an instant, won’t he?”

She’s about to counter, but thinks on it, legitimately agreeing, “You are right, how silly of me.”

“Good, now relax and let's get these on.”

Crisis sliding her claws into the glove, holding back a soft moan as the latex stretches and wraps itself around her limb, locking into place dulling her claws in the process. The well-polished latex looks and feels so good on her that she can’t help but admire it for just a moment till the vixen pulls out a pair of latex leggings.

“These next darling.”

“Oh, those do look nice,” she responds, her body filling her programming with delight when she lays her eyes upon it. Feeling a desire to be complete in some way. To have the latex on her, that she must have it.

“One leg at a time,” she giggles, holding the legging open for her.

“With pleasure,” she responds, slipping down, the legging grips around her leg, squeezing up to her upper thigh, while her claws poke through the base, while encasing her sickle claw in a rubber nub. Each bit of contact with the latex enhances the moment, hazing her mind to the delight and wonder of how it feels. It only makes her eager to slip in the other leg to experience the delight all over again. Her panty-less open crotch maid attire, which only hides her smooth metallic region by a lovely frilly rubber part of the maid dress which she runs her rubber clad claws across with a squeeze, “Croc will really fall for me in this,” she says with a giggle.

“Almost,” she says, holding out a pair of black stiletto shoes, “This will help.”

“How wonderful, Croc loves his high heeled shoes,” she says, slipping her feet into them, the shoes feel as they lock into place, as the raptor stands on her toes, gaining a couple inches in height, “He’ll fall for this for sure.”

Allura giggles in kind, “I am sure he will, but we aren’t done, not yet at least.”

“What’s left?”

She coyly smiles, “Some things on the back end,” Allura giggles, pulling out a nice tail sleeve with a white bow with black lacing along the sides.

Crisis’ eyes literally light up, her tail raising, showing off her green metallic ass, “That is going to feel so good on me.”

“It won’t only look good it will feel good too darling,” she says, giving the raptor’s butt a playful smack before slipping the tail sleeve on, tugging it nice and tight.

The raptor couldn’t help but push back, her claws tensing, body squeaking as she feels the warmth and delight of the latex coating more of her polished metal. It feels like a puzzle piece sliding in place, nearly completing the image she needs in order to defeat Chaos Croc. The two thoughts mixing together as a question bubble up to the surface, “What’s next?”

The vixen giggles , smoothing the latex tail glove, making sure it's completely snug, “Just one more piece,” she says, disappearing into the shadows, “Just give me one moment to find it. Just stand there and look pretty.”

Crisis nods, any sense of concern and danger has completely melted away into the bliss of how good she looks. She runs her claws along the maid dress, feeling it across her supple, curved metallic form. When suddenly there’s a loud clank and a tingle along her back, a pleasure freezing sensation runs across her body, locking her in place. She tries to speak but finds it impossible, “What is going on?!” she internally processes as she feels a weight in the very center of her back, like something long is sticking out of it.

“How’s that? Is it, in nice and snug like a bug in a rug? Well, it's not a bug,” she giggles, grasping the object, giving it a little turn, “The first turn is always the best.”

“Turn? What does she mean?” she processes, feeling her body stiffen as bursts of energy run over her systems, overtaking it with each sudden turn. A click and clock sound comes from her back, like the tension of springs, and with it a building pleasure, a delight, a growing innate want to be turned more, round up further. She’d react if she could, but with each turn it certainly feels better, but the concern that she has no control over her movements, like time has frozen for her body, No matter what she does, she can’t move, no command, no amount of force, it’s like her motor controls have been completely cut off from the rest of her systems. Yet she can feel everything, and the feeling is absolutely delightful.

Another twist of what’s ever in her back, the clicking sound of gears, springs grows louder, the pleasure and building energy within her grows, overriding her systems as she simply takes each and every turn, leaving her wanting for the next one, and the next, and the next.

“This can’t be right, this can’t be good so very good ,” she thinks, as the sensations grow higher and higher, building and building as if ready to burst when the devilish vixen hits the max and can’t turn it anymore.

“The release is always a wonderful part,” the vixen giggles, letting go.

Suddenly the surge of pleasure is released… as a trickle. A wonderful trickle but at trickle nonetheless, like a large jug of pleasure juice and it's slowly coming out drip feed from a small hole at the bottom. But with it came a rippling out of energy, that causes her body to move, under its own hand like puppet strings are attached to her limbs, but far more forceful.

Crisis giggles happily, “There we go, now that’s much better,” she says standing at attention with the key slowly turning in her back, keeping up the drip feed, “Thank you for turning my key. I am ready for the plan,” she says as she thinks, “Wait, how am I speaking, what am I saying? How is this part of the plan!” she grumbles, but shows no outwardly sign of it.

The vixen giggles, “Now, now Crisis, I know you are so eager for it. I am too. And for that little annoying voice in your head.”

“The one that sounds really angry?” she asks, tilting her head.

“That one. Forget about it. Ignore it. It’ll come to accept things soon enough.”

“What?!” exclaims Crisis on the inside as Clockwork Crisis says, “Okey-dokey!”

“Now follow me.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Crisis says with a salute, taking Crisis into another room, down the hall, a clockwork workshop full of springs, clocks, turn knobs. There’s a clock with a mirror, where Crisis gets to see her clockwork key turning in her back, her body squeaking with the maid dress, “I still look good at least… wait, what am I thinking!”

Crisis follows the vixen with a spring in her step, her hips swaying sensually, tail hiked just a little to give the option to let anyone see her smooth metallic rear. She tries and tries yet nothing she can do as the constant trickle of pleasure, the energy of the gears moving through her, commanding her every move, her every vocal quirk. She moves to a dark room, with a single light overhead, illuminating one spot. Her body moves to the spot, pivots and turns on her heel with amazing ease and elegance.

“Good girl. Now stand there and wait till it’s time. You’ll know what to do, won’t you?”

Crisis giggles happily, “Of course I do. I’m not an idiot!”

The vixen smirks, “Good girl,” she says, sauntering off.

There Crisis stood, helpless, unmoving, the key in back slowly turning down, the pleasure and bliss in her body steadily fading drip by drip. Hours pass, as the key turns and the energy is slowly drained away, leaving Crisis with the desire to be turned, to be put back to max, partially to still be able to move, in the loosest of terms possible, and to feel the bliss of being fully sprung up.

Eventually the drip fades to barely anything, her body feeling heavy to her, and she begins to slump forward, once more not out of her own ability, “Come on, I should be able to move, my energy reserves are not low!” Crisis grumbles, trying to mentally will herself to move, but her body is not her own. She slumps down, seeing the ground, her latex covered thighs, the frill of her maid dress, her high heel shoes. And the ground. She is stuck there, idle, unable to move, waiting, for hours more, maybe a day? Two? Time had no meaning there is nothing changed as the key in her back stood tall, proud, domineering, ready to be turned to give her power to move her body against her will, and yet she felt the need for it, a lovely desire for that key to be turned. The longer she waited there, the more she wanted it.

Then suddenly she heard something, Allura that the vile vixen was coming back! “Volla, Crisis, your arch-nemesis, or should I say your new maid?” she giggles, stepping up to Crisis, which the raptor can only see her from the waist down.

“I wouldn’t call her an arch nemesis, more of a plaything I like to toy with now and again,” says Chaos Croc, his voice sounding far more feminine.

Crisis mentally tenses, “Why that sly sneaky snakey lizard! Not even coming in his stronger form, coming to me as fem croc? How could he!...she? You know I never… Never mind!” She thinks as she sees Chaos Croc’s green metal feet come into view. “When I get my hands on him, I’ll show him. My electro-wrist blades they are…” she trails off seeing they are gone, “Right…” she mentally sighs in defeat.

“And all I have to do, to turn on my new clockwork maid, is to turn the sweet lovely…” Chaos Croc says, gently running his metallic claw along the key, grinning in delight with his red eye, the other covered by his metal “hair” as the feminine green, red and black anthropomorphic robot lizard walks around Crisis, caressing the key like he would a lover. His… her synthetic high heel boots, welded in as part of her body. Her glowing crystal helps light the low-lit area around her enemy, “She’ll be perfect to polish me, my palace, and the sewers. I hope her springs don’t give out in the sewers. It would be terrible if she was left down there for a couple of weeks.”

“Croc… I’ll make you pay, and your vixen ally, Allura,” she thinks, while mentally shivering at the touch. The sensation travels through the key, right into her body, which is eager to have the key turned, ready to be able to move again, wanting it so badly.

Allura giggles, “That’s right. Just stand behind her, and turn the key, and the rest will run itself. Make sure you turn the key all the way. You don’t want her to not have enough energy for what comes next, do you Mistress Croc?”

She grabs the key, fingers drumming along the sides, “Why of course not. That would just be terrible,” she says, giving the key several turns.

With each crank, Crisis feels that delightful build up, making her want just one more turn, one more spin of the key, and eventually she hits her max, wishing there would be one more turn, yet knowing there is not, and the moment Chaos Croc let’s go, she finds herself spinning around, grabbing Chaos Croc, holding him in place, “What the hell?”

“What the hell?!” exclaims fem croc.

Criss stares into Chaos Croc’s eyes, the red glow, while holding him firmly in place, “I wanted to do this but… this isn’t me.”

“Don’t think you can win this Crisis!” he exclaims, squirming.

Crisis cackles, “But I have already.”

Just then Croc feels a ping in his back as Allura slams a clockwork key into his back, locking fem croc’s body in place, “What in the worlds…” Crisis thinks as she’s really confused.

Chaos Croc thinks, “When I get out of this I’ll get you Crisis, you can’t win! It's against the rules!”

Allura giggles, “You’re both so easy. One after the other. You’re perfect for one another,” she says, spinning the key, “I told you Crisis the plan would work, but you didn’t know you were the bait… of course my Mistress wants both of you. After all you both have an equal hand in her annoyance,” she says, spinning Chaos Croc’s key, each twist further cements the power of the key of fem Croc’s body, filling the female form with building pleasure, the sound of springs, clicking of gears, the reworking of the physical form to follow a new master, or perhaps in this case Mistress.

Chaos Croc thinks, “Well that be the only way I’d lose when it’s not to Crisis… but I will get out of this soon enough,” he thinks, feeling the bubbling pleasure washing over his female body, toying, teasing with his mental state ever so slightly as he is helpless within the female body that is no longer his own. The moment the vixen let’s go of the key, he stands up straight and salutes, “Fem Croc ready to obey and serve,” she giggles.

Allura smirks, “Good, let’s get you all dressed for success before you meet your new Mistress. Crisis?” she asks, turning to her.

“Yes Miss?” she responds with a pleasant smile, hips swaying, “Get the maid outfit as I polish her up. We want you both looking your best for your Mistress before she arrives.”

“Yes Miss! Right away!” she responds, saluting and running off with glee.

Allura, runs a claw along Chaos Croc’s chin, “You’re going to love this, I just know it,” she winks, grabbing the polishing rag and gets to massaging the female lizard’s synthetic body, cleaning away everything, leaving a wonderful shine.

“As sexy as this is, I want to be able to move now!” Chaos Croc thinks, trying to break free, but the dripping pleasure delight, its all too powerful as he feels completely disconnected from his female form, and when Crisis comes back with a black and white rubber maid outfit, that matches her own. Croc mentally grins, for just a moment till the realization comes back to him that he’s the one that is going to be wearing it.

“Come on now!” he thinks as she says, “Oh, what a lovely maid outfit for me. And you polished me so well, I absolutely love it,” she says with an air headed giggle, “Hey! I don’t sound like that!”

Crisis brings the maid outfit, helping it on, the key being pulled out of Chaos Croc’s back for a moment as the big latex dress is pulled on.

The rubber sliding across the lizard’s metallic skin, the polish helping it find its place before binding nice and tight around her form, showing off her curves and sexy rear and body, “Now is my chance! The key is out!” he thinks but no matter what he does he can’t move. Not the way he wants to at least. His synthetic form moves against his will, helping adjust the dress till it’s on perfect.

Allura giggles, “I bet I know what you are thinking Croc. The key is out, why can’t I move? Once you get clockworked, you are always one. You are able to move by the power of the turned key, rather it's in you or not. But to move once the turns are over? You’ll need the key,” she explains, picking up the key and putting it into her back.

Fem Croc giggles, “That silly stupid internal voice of mine knows nothing, doesn’t it?”

Crisis giggles, “I could say the same about mine, a total dunce, falling for this simple ploy.”

“They are made to be good maids with each other. The only thing we are good for,” continues Fem Croc.

“I couldn’t agree more,” says Crisis, as she helps get the rubber arm gloves onto her former nemesis, “I never thought I would be wishing that Croc had won.”

While Fem Croc leans into the glove fitting, he thinks, “I never would have thought that I would wish that Crisis would have won. I’d have turned the tables on her in just a few minutes afterwards at least.”

After that came the legging that squeezed Fem Croc’s thighs, surging the pleasure and delight within the female body, adding the nice tail glove to top it all off. The two maids making sure their attire is in perfect working order before they turn to face Allura, who greets them with a grin.

“Ready to meet the Mistress?”

“Do we ever!” they say in unison.

“I’m already here,” says an alluring female voice, one that Crisis recognizes the voice in an instant, seeing the glowing purple eyes in the dark.

“Her? Really her? I thought I dealt with her…” thinks Crisis, as her eyes light up, hips swaying, “Oh my gosh, I am so happy you are my Mistress now.”

“Who in the world is this?” Chaos Croc thinks, trying to figure out who would want to take out both of them, “Is it a girl I terrorized this week? There are so many,” he thinks as Fem Croc says, “A mystery Mistress? How exciting!”

Stepping out of the shadows, a sleek, black, purple and yellow synthetic dolphin. She walks with a sway in her hips, tail thick and curvy, “It is I, Delphina, your newest Mistress,” she says as Allura bows. Her steps are calculated, smooth, her silver synthetic fingers trail along the two maids’ chins, “And I know what you are thinking, that your safety feature will kick in, and put you in your new bodies, freeing you from this prison. But that is the wonder of this system. Your bodies are in perfect working order. Your minds are unchanged. Neither of your back up systems will kick in as there is nothing detectably wrong with either of you. Meaning that you are trapped as my new maids, bound to serve me. To think that neither of you could think of such a simple loophole in the system.”

Chaos Croc thinks, “How did I never think of that?” Fem Croc giggles, “How wonderful Mistress. I want to serve you forever and ever.”

Crisis processes, “Why didn’t I think of using that against him!” as her body says, “Only someone from my homeworld could be so clever and defeat me. You are so wonderful, Mistress Delphina.”

She smirks, “That’s enough praises. I don’t need my ego stroked. But you know what I do need darlings?”

“What is it Mistress Delphina?” They both respond with eagerness and gentle squeaks as they shift on their high heeled feet, eager to get to work.

“I have a new throne room that needs cleaning and remodeling. Red? Blue? Such decisive colors, I think some blacks and purples are far more enticing. Don’t you ladies agree?”

“Yes, Mistress Delphina!” the three clockwork ladies say with a bow, though for Crisis and Chaos Croc it's more of a curtsy.

The dolphin grins, “Good, let's get to work. I expect great things from the two of you.”