Dixie's Greens 10: The Birthday

(Pretend this first paragraph is like a documentary narration)
>On July 9th, 1861, 12 days before the First Battle of Manassas, would-be Brigadier General Anon Ardwick celebrated his birthday in the privacy of his home, joined only by his parents
>Their gift to him was an unorthodox one for a single man: an 1860-model clockwork nandroid, manufactured by Prescott Engineering over in Great Britain
>"She was such a slender little thing, but her wooden casing felt very sturdy," he later wrote, "My father assured me she would be a better indoor and outdoor worker than a dozen slaves."
>Before he wound her up for the very first time that evening, he had no clue what to name his new wooden companion
>His father, inspired by the well-known song of the era, suggested she be named "Dixie", believing it to be proper for a Southern droid
>With no alternatives that came to mind, Ardwick ultimately settled on that name
>When she first spoke to the Ardwicks, her energetic English accent was so jarring to them that they decided it must be the first thing she should alter
>Entering 1862, Anon Ardwick had no interest whatsoever in supporting the Confederate war effort, but by the end of the year, he would hold the rank of Infantry Captain, and Dixie, that of a Sergeant Major

>It was just before noon, over five hours past the time she usually starts the day
>After you carefully reconnected the automatic winder to her back, she gradually regained consciousness
>She fully opened her eyes and gave you a look that questioned why you were standing in front of her
>You knew it was also a mystery to her why she awoke on the couch when she last remembered powering down inside your room
>"Oh..." she finally remembered, "it's today, isn't it?"
>"Damn right it is," you answered with a big smile
>You then scooped her up in a tight embrace and kissed her on the cheek
>"Happy birthday, sweetheart!" you whispered affectionately
>"Even for my birthday, you're up real early, aren't you?" she asked, not yet knowing the time
>You let her go and scratched the back of your neck, unsure how she'd react to the news
>"Uh, yeah, about that... it's almost noon. Sorry, but I had to remove your winder for a few hours while I got your gift."
>Instead of receiving a scolding for shutting her down without her permission, she just shrugged it off
>"Eh, that's okay," she said, "I have complete trust in you not to destroy me while I sleep."
>You chuckled in reply: "Dixie, if I wanted to, I would have already."
>"Heh heh! ...So where's that gift?"
>"I'll show it to you tonight," you touched her on the shoulder and winked, "but until then, I picked out a couple special places for us to visit today!"
>"Ooh, can't wait for then, darlin'!" she said, understanding the beginning of your statement, "Where are we goin' first?"
>"You'll see, now go grab your Springfield and hop in the car, ...sugar!"

>The winding narrow path through the lush woods opened up to a large clearing, completely devoid of anyone else
>You had no clue this area existed until Emma showed you yesterday, and you made sure to stop by early that morning to set up
>Putting the car in park, you and her stepped out, hearing nothing but distant birds chirping and twigs snapping under your feet
>"You know," she declared, "this here is God's country!"
>There was a waist-high stone wall running along one side of the enclosure, and placed atop it was a line of glass bottles almost as long
>"Hey, what're those thangs?" she pointed at the far wall and asked, unable to see from your distance
>"Bottles. I collected them from all over the neighborhood and put them there before I went to grab your present this morning."
>She looked up at you and quickly knew why she needed to bring her gun
>"Target practice?"
>"Target practice," you parroted while reaching into the duffel bag slung over your shoulder
>You pulled out a slightly heavy paper cartridge and handed it to her, obviously containing more than just gunpowder
>".58 cal?" her eyes lit up as she questioned
>".58 cal," you repeated
>"And the caps?"
>You stuck your hand into your pocket and retrieved a cylindrical tin full of them
>She grabbed them from you and tore open the cartridge with her teeth
>She then poured the powder down the barrel and inverted the paper to stick the bullet in
>Suddenly stopping the loading process, she lifted the bullet from the top of the barrel and examined it
>"A Minié ball," she mumbled to herself, "I haven't seen one of these in... I don't know HOW long."
>Following her short break, she lodged it in the barrel and rammed it down with haste you hadn't seen from her yet
>Replacing the cap with lightning speed, she cocked the hammer back and aimed at the bottle opposite her
>With a deafening boom from your side, you could just barely see it explode into dozens of flying shards
>"How was that, hon?" she asked, incredibly proud of her direct hit
>"Pretty good!" you replied, "Mind if I give it a try?"
>She extended the rifle out to you, grinning ear to ear
>"Please do, Anon!"
>3 slow reloads & 2 missed shots later, the next bottle finally shattered
>"Atta boy, hon!" she encouraged from behind, "Third time's the charm! See how usin' the sights makes you more accurate?"
>"Oh, I'm not THAT good a shot."
>"You kiddin'? If you were around durin' the war, you could've joined the sharpshooters!"

>The rest of the afternoon was spent in that clearing, destroying every last bottle on the wall
>It wouldn't have taken as long if the musket didn't change hands almost every shot
>She didn't miss once, but every other shot from you did
>By the time you left the woods for your next errand, it was approaching 5 PM
>While the ride back into town was lengthy, you were hopeful that there would still be enough time to poke around your next destination
>Much to your dismay, the South Carolina Museum of Warfare had closed for the day just 10 minutes prior
>Totally dependent on touring her revised exhibit there, you had no other options to keep you both out of the house
>You hoped that everything was arranged back home, because you were heading back ahead of schedule
>After a brief stop at a gas station to buy a bag of chips and "take a piss", you made sure to drive under the speed limit and "somehow" hit every red light
>As you at last pulled into the driveway, there was no light coming from inside the house, which was uncommon at that time of day
>The street was also lined with parked cars stretching down the neighborhood
>You knew exactly why they were all there, but Dixie wasn't supposed to
>"Surprise party, huh?" she asked, completely expecting such a thing
>"...Maybe," you answered with a cheeky smirk
>Walking up to the front door, you noticed her peek into its small window
>In the dark, there were clearly someone's shoes jutting out from under the dining table, ready to spring out when you entered
>You stuck the house key into the lock and turned the handle while she giggled in anticipation
>"Watch this, Anon," she said aloud as the door opened, "When I flick on the light, they're gonna jump up and yell "surprise" like I couldn't see all their cars outside!"
>She reached for the wall switch on her left
>*click*
>"SUUUPRIIIISE!" the very expected guests shouted
>"Ha ha! See?" she managed to say while snickering
>"Happy birthday, hun!" a female voice hollered
>"You oughta be a detective!" a different guest said
>"How's it feel being a century and a quarter old, bro?" you heard Emma call out over the clamor
>The attendees consisted of Dad, Emma, Captain Paul, a few cousins, a couple friends from school, and-
>Right in the front was the OTHER Dixie, the rancher, who you didn't remember inviting
>You had no idea how she even knew about the event, unless someone else made contact with her and brought her along
>If you hadn't met before and knew she wasn't a bother, you would have certainly asked her to leave
>"Wow, you guys got the place all set up an HOUR before we were due back?" you asked the group, feigning surprise
>They all laughed, knowing well that the "piss" you took at the gas station was really a call to the house warning of your early arrival
>"Ready, everyone?" Dad stood up and asked with an uncharacteristically big smile
>The whole room inhaled, ready to sing
>"HAAAAPPY BIIIRTHDAAAAY TO YOOOOUU, HAAAPPY BIIIRTHDAAAY TO YOOOOOU, HAAAPPY BIIIRTHDAAY DEAR DIXIIEE,"
>Emma pulled the paper sheet off the rectangular shape on the table, revealing a large red velvet cake decorated like a Confederate battle flag
>The stars in the blue cross were replaced by many unlit white candles, and the empty red space above it contained the word "DIXIE" in gold lettering
>"125" was written below the center candle; the age of her mechanical brain as of that night
>"...HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPY BIIRTHDAAAAY TOOOO YOOOOOOOU!"
>As the song concluded, Paul pulled a tiny lighter from his pocket and lit every last candle
>With no lungs or throat to blow them out with, she nudged you in the ribs, signaling you to do the honors
>"Anon will take care of this for me," she announced
>You leaned forward and extinguished them all out with one blow
>The room erupted in a roaring cheer, and when it dissipated, Dixie spoke: "125 years! I didn't expect to live through the war, and here I am over a hundred years later, STILL livin' with the Ardwick boys!"
>"Why? Do you not like 'em or sumthin'?" Farmer Dixie blurted out
>The guests weren't sure whether to laugh or not; some awkwardly did, while others were silent
>Much to your surprise, Dixie chose not to get confrontational
>She instead grabbed you and Dad by the shoulders, pulling you both close
>"Actually, Dixie, I wouldn't have it any other way!"

>With the guests gone home, your stomach full of cake & ice cream, and the clock in your bedroom soon to hit 10 PM, there was only one thing left on the agenda
>"Thanks for makin' today so fun, Anon," she said sincerely, "Of all the birthdays I've had, today's been one of the best!"
>"Oh, the day's not done yet, sweetheart," you reminded, "Remember that gift I told you about this morning, where I had to power you down to get it?"
>"...I do now!" her eyes darted around the room, "Is it hidden somewhere?"
>Without a word, you stood up from the bed and quickly walked to the far corner, where a standing lamp was
>"Is it in the closet?" she asked very eagerly
>Flipping the light on and closing the closet door, it proved her guess was wrong
>Secured to the front of the door was a tall mirror, and you motioned for her to come over to it
>"My gift, like an old Zen master would say," you joked, "...is within you!"
>"...What?"
>Oh boy, time for the grand reveal
>"Drop your pants and see for yourself," you whispered
>She gave you an odd look, but did so without complaint
>When she laid eyes on it, she was astounded
>"Woooaaah," she murmured
>The color of its synthetic skin now matched her wooden casing almost perfectly, so much so that an uninformed person might think she was originally built with it
>It promised to be tighter than the previous models, and the box it came in guaranteed that it would never become loose or relaxed with frequent use
>The artificial flesh inside had an adjustable sensitivity setting, controlled by an included remote that only needed a single battery to work
>On that same remote, the male participant could also trigger a "vibrate" function for his own pleasure
>And the best part, you got it at a huge discount, costing you only $115 instead of its retail price of $499.99
>She glanced away from her reflection and back at you
>"Is this the-"
>"Yeah, it's the R-9," you nodded and began to explain, "I took your winder out and brought you to that Nandroid Enhancement place as soon as it opened at 9:30. Emma's dad was on duty, and because he knew me, you, and that it was your birthday, he cut a big chunk off the price! ...It took him less than a minute to install it, actually. He told me that once the hole in a bot's groin is carved out, swapping out different models is as easy as changing a lightbulb!"
>She didn't say anything; her eyes were back to admiring it, and her mind was probably getting lost in lewd thoughts
>She shifted her hips to get a better view of it, but noticed something jiggle on her behind
>"Well, it was more like TWO gifts I got you," you commented
>Everything below her neck spun around to face the mirror
>Where a hard and flat rear end once was now displayed an ample and cushiony pair of buttocks that shook with every movement
>The wooden balljoints in her upper thighs were concealed by a layer of meaty flesh that began below her waist and ended just above her knees
>How she never noticed the addon in the past 10 hours was a mystery
>Her head turned back towards you in an instant, her eyes wide with shock
>"IS THIS WHY YOUR SCHOOL FRIENDS WERE STARIN'?!" she yelled, definitely embarrassed
>You stepped back and put your hands up, ready to deflect an incoming slap
>"Hey, hey! If you don't like it, you can take it off! Look, it all slides right off like a tight pair of pants!"
>She unclenched her fists and stuck her thumbs into the rubber waistband, confirming your point
>That morning, it took the combined effort of you and Emma's father to stuff her back into her everyday slim jeans with the added layer
>In hindsight, he may have filled it with a little too much water
>With a halfhearted smile, she started to pull off the fake ass and thigh upgrades
>"...I uh, don't hate it, but I think I'll save it for when I REALLY want to turn heads, okay?"
>"Do with it as you please, hon," you said, "it's yours, after all."
>She lifted the gelatinous item and gave it a hard smack with her other hand, curiously studying how the liquid inside sloshed around
>"Well?" she gazed up at you and asked
>"...Well what?"
>She dropped the upgrades to the floor and gently rubbed her lower set of lips
>"You wanna take my OTHER new gift for a spin?"
>You shot her a lustful grin
>"I'd be right happy to!"

>Following the successful "test run" of the R-9, you both embraced on the bed, laying atop the sheets damp with your sweat
>The air conditioner had been running for the past 15 minutes, but only now did you feel relief in its soothing breeze
>During the trial run, the pleasure setting on the R-9 was unknowingly set to a very high level
>Needless to say, the surges were so intense that she had to cup her hand over her mouth, otherwise Dad would hear her moans from his room
>"What a perfect endin' to a great day," she stated softly
>"...Glad I could make it one, sweetheart."
>She nestled her head against your chest and gave it a tender kiss
>"You know somethin' funny?" she asked, "When you were a baby, you would squirm and cry whenever I tried to hold you. You were comfortable in anyone's arms but mine, and it took you until you were almost THREE to stop doin' that."
>"Mmmh, and look how far I've come," you murmured
>She pushed herself up on the bed so her face was level with yours
>"Look how far we've BOTH come, hon!"
>You were the one to initiate the kiss, considering it to be your last gift of the evening
>"Hey, Dixie?"
>"Yeah?"
>"...Happy birthday, baby."
>She then half-whispered/half-mumbled something you couldn't quite understand

>...But it almost sounded like she said the word "wife" at the end