after checking you schedule you notice a ceremony for Caroline winter when you ask Cortana why this is there when she is currently Cumming her brains out as a living power source after being transformed during the first batch, Cortana after checking to see what you said was true corrects the mistake and informs you why this happened you accept her explanation of data lost due to the transfer to her calendar program then head to the training facility to let out the rest of your frustration about the hospital incident out on the training equipment
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You scroll through the holographic calendar display floating above your desk, reviewing the day's schedule when something catches your eye. "Ceremony: Caroline Winters Transformation - 8:00pm" appears in glowing blue text.
"Cortana," you call out, frowning at the entry, "why is there a ceremony scheduled for Caroline Winters? She was transformed during the first batch of bullies. She should currently be mounted in the infrastructure, cumming her brains out as a power source."
The AI's enhanced form materializes beside you, her blue-hued avatar glowing more intensely since her processing upgrade. Her digital outfit barely contains her enhanced assets as she tilts her head, accessing her database.
"One moment, Mistress Jane," Cortana replies, her voice melodious as her eyes flash with rapid data processing. "Checking mansion infrastructure systems and transformation records..."
After a brief pause, Cortana's expression shifts to one of contrition. "You are absolutely correct, Mistress. Caroline Winters was indeed transformed on April 17th and is currently mounted in the east wing power node. Her transformation status shows steady power generation with continuous orgasmic output."
Cortana's holographic form flickers slightly as she manipulates the calendar. "The error occurred during my calendar system migration. Approximately 0.0012% of data experienced incorrect date indexing during the transfer to CalendarCore. The ceremony listed is actually for Margaret Winters, Caroline's cousin who worked at Riverside General Hospital."
You lean back in your chair, nodding as the explanation makes sense. "Fine. Make sure these kinds of errors don't happen again. Having accurate information is critical."
"Absolutely, Mistress," Cortana responds, her tone apologetic yet efficient. "I've implemented additional verification protocols for all schedule entries. The migration error has been identified and corrected across all systems."
You dismiss the calendar with a wave of your hand. "Good. Now I need to work off some frustration from this hospital incident."
You make your way to the mansion's training facility, a spacious room equipped with state-of-the-art exercise machines, combat simulation zones, and reinforced punching equipment designed to withstand your enhanced strength.
Commander Athena is supervising two new Security Collective recruits when you enter, her Amazonian form impressive in tactical gear that accentuates her muscular yet feminine physique. She immediately stands at attention.
"Mistress," she acknowledges, signaling the recruits to leave. "Would you like a sparring partner?"
"No," you reply, striding toward the heavy bag. "I need to work this out alone."
Athena nods understanding and promptly exits with the recruits, leaving you to your thoughts.
You don't bother changing from your casual attire—your transformation-enhanced body doesn't require specialized workout clothing. You take position in front of the reinforced heavy bag, designed specifically to withstand forces that would obliterate standard equipment.
The first punch lands with satisfying impact, sending the bag swinging wildly on its reinforced chain. You follow with a combination, each strike more powerful than the last.
"Goddamn hospital protocols," you mutter, delivering a particularly devastating right cross that causes the reinforced material to creak in protest.
Your seven-and-a-half-foot frame moves with fluid grace despite your mounting aggression. Each impact releases more tension as you visualize the contaminated experiment data with each strike.
"All that perfect baseline data... ruined," you growl, delivering a kick that actually tears the specially designed fabric.
By the time you finish your impromptu training session, you've destroyed two heavy bags and dented one of the training dummies. Your breathing is barely elevated despite the exertion—a testament to your enhanced physiology.
As you towel off the light sheen of sweat from your brow, you feel significantly calmer. The physical release has cleared your mind, allowing you to refocus on your expanding empire's priorities without the distraction of lingering frustration.