DADDY’S DROID
or, Acme Robotics Corporation Alumni
Cordelia
Speedicut
>< >< ><
Copyright 2017 Smashwords edition ISBN : 9781370257867
Cover: Luis Durante - Idoia (detail)
This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial purposes.
If you enjoyed this book, please look for other works by this author.
* All characters herein are
eighteen or over. *
Chapter 1 - Thursday & Friday - Learning about Lacy
Chapter 2 - Friday & Saturday - Bonding
Chapter 3 - Saturday & Sunday - Jolly Rogering
Chapter 4 - Sunday - Maxwell's Smart
Chapter 5 - Sunday - little Black Dresses
Chapter 6 - Sunday & Monday - Ave Maria
Chapter 7 - Monday - The Bimbo
Chapter 8 - Monday - la Femme de Chambre & Family Matters
Chapter 9 - Tuesday - Raggedy Anne
Chapter 10 - Thursday - Beachfront Bargaining
Chapter 11 - Tuesday, Again - Kidnapped
Chapter 12 - Tuesday - Out of the Pot ...
Chapter 13 - Convergences
Appendix 2 - Concerning Droids and Bots
I should have caught on sooner. The droid – Lacy, he called it – had sizable boobs, and looked just a little like Momma. In any event, two weeks after the thing arrived, I happened to get the late-night munchies, and went on a food quest from my bedroom in the basement up to the kitchen. From there I could hear the real purpose for ‘Lacy’ being played out on the floor above me. Like, right on the floor.
The thing was a sex-bot.
The strange thing was not that the idea turned me on (which it did); it was that I suddenly realized I was jealous. That could have been me he was fucking. Which confused and surprised the hell out of me – I’d never thought of Daddy that way before. At least, not so as I’d have admitted it to myself.
Anyway, I told my best friend Adele about it. Not the part about how I was suddenly lusting after my own father – just the news that his housekeeper-droid was a sex doll. A very sophisticated sex doll.
Adele laughed at me. She’d met ‘Lacy’ already –the thing made an appearance each afternoon to tidy the place up and make our dinner, although it rarely interacted with me or with Daddy. All it did was answer ‘yes’, ‘no’ or ‘I don’t understand’ to direct questions, or else blandly list off dinner choices. Then it did the dishes and went off to plug itself in – it only got four hours on a charge. And after that, apparently, it woke up again and serviced Daddy.
“Of course she’s a sex-bot! Couldn’t you tell just by looking at her?”
“And you could? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what? About the birds and the bees? Listen, Tracie girl, my Uncle Max has one of those things.” Max was Adele’s ‘black sheep’ uncle – the one who’d told her the facts of life, and occasionally let her have a bottle of wine. (So far as I knew, though, he had never hit on her.) “I just happened to drop in to borrow a vid when she was ‘on’. He was kinda embarrassed, but he introduced me – he called her Greta. I knew something was up – for one thing, not many girls wear cowboy costumes complete with boots, spurs and a lasso.“
Adele paused long enough for me to picture that image, then continued, “So I make some small talk with Greta, while Max goes to make tea – but I’m thinking, ‘could her shirt be any tighter?’ Anyhow, when Max comes back, he says, ‘What do you think? Did I get my money’s worth?’
“So I got mad at him and said, ‘Jeez, Max, the poor girl’s sitting right here – show a little class, will ya?’ ‘Cause, you know, he’d hired ‘girlfriends’ before, and they’d been really nice. And then he told me what she was. He wasn’t about to let me see her actually ‘on the job’, but he lent me her manual. I read it, cover to cover. Anyway - guess what? Your Dad probably doesn’t even know this, ‘cause this isn’t a feature guys are interested in, but in the charge-base is a headset ring.”
“Which is what?”
“It’s a virtual reality receiver, baby girl – these sex-droids automatically record every sex session they have, and they can play them back on demand. I’ve managed to sample Max’s moves with his droid, a few times, when he was out of the house. It was absolutely just like the real thing. Better than life, ‘cause you can’t get knocked up!”
Needless to say, as soon Daddy had gone to work the next morning, I went upstairs to snoop. He kept Lacy’s charger base in the big walk-in closet off his bedroom (which should have been another clue). It was the first time I’d seen the droid in standby, like that. It was kind of creepy. The thing sat like a queen on a throne, except it was stark naked and the throne was a metal chair, the bottom of which was solid. Whatever links it had to its base were hidden under its bum. It certainly looked like the real thing – it was so human that I half expected it to open its eyes and catch me poking around.
It – she - was about my size. Which is to say, fairly little. And I had to admit she was beautiful. Adele was right – what with the big bazooms, the tiny waist, and the padded bottom, she was clearly made for sex.
I quickly managed to find the headset, in a drawer on the side of the base station. It was wireless, but I didn’t know its range. Or much else, owing to her manual didn’t seem to be around anywhere. So I took the thing downstairs to my bedroom to experiment.
>< >< ><
As it turned out, it was dead easy. I put it on, and after a slight hesitation, it brought up a menu that floated in my vision. I could lift my arm and actually point at the selections, which were indexed by date. There were nearly fifty entries, already! Which annoyed me, mostly because I’d been oblivious to it. No wonder Daddy had had been looking tired lately.
But now I could find out what they’d been up to. The night they’d been banging on the floorboards seemed like a good place to start. I pointed to the date in question, and brought up a file with a running time of twenty-five minutes. Another poke at the ‘yes’ box, and suddenly I was looking at my father’s bedroom. Yippee - it worked! The Lacy-bot turned her head to look around, and I could not only see what she’d seen, but feel my head turn to see it – and smell the scent of sandalwood soap from Daddy’s bathroom.
All of which was more than a little disorienting, because I could also feel myself sitting on my bed. I actually had to wave my real arm to catch myself from falling right over, and when I did another menu floated in front of me, labelled ‘intensity’. I flapped my arm until the level rose higher. The numbers quickly went from green to orange to red, and hit 100% before I knew it.
That was way better. Now I was completely ‘inside’ Lacy, walking across the carpet – God, it felt so thick and soft under my bare feet! I could feel her lust, too. It was programmed in, of course, but I’d never felt so horny in my life.
When Daddy stepped out of the bathroom, I almost died! He was naked – and, now that Lacy was running her hands down her sides, I knew I was, too. Daddy gave me a hungry look, and Lacy glanced down to watch his cock twitch and grow. It was bigger than I’d imagined, and, as Lacy, I felt my pussy lubricate in anticipation. I knew for sure my own pussy was doing the same thing.
And then Daddy reached into his top drawer and pulled out a black choker collar. Fastened to a ring on the collar was a matching leash. Okay – didn’t see that coming. My Old Man had a kink I had no idea about … no surprise there, seeing it had taken me a couple of weeks to figure out he was fucking the doll. Lacy was bending her head to let him put the collar on her neck, and I felt a rush of pleasure.
At this point I was beginning to get cold feet, and not just because things were getting twisted. The thing was, the whole experience was way beyond intense. In the past two minutes, I’d felt every sensation Lacy had, as though it were my own. Which was one thing to hear Adele tell about, and another to experience. I was just going along for the ride – after all, this was just a recording of what had happened two days ago. But when Lacy had turned her head, when she’d warmed to the sight of Daddy’s body, and when she’d longed for his touch on her skin … it was like I had decided to move, and my tummy fluttering with anticipation.
Which meant that I also wanted to feel the touch of that collar. It was definitely time to hit the pause button, so I could catch my breath and get a chance to think about whether I really wanted to do this. Except … it turned out that at the 100% intensity level, I couldn’t flap my real arm or otherwise bring back the menu.
I was trapped - obliged to go along for the ride for the next twenty-three minutes, or so. And if the Lacy-bot’s reactions were any indication so far, Daddy was gonna fuck my brains out.
“On your knees, now, girl, and get me ready for you.”
And so I did. I commenced by licking his gorgeous dick (thinking, Goodness, Lacy has a long tongue); and soon I was sucking him like a pro, which I guess Lacy was designed to be. I methodically worked his cock right down my throat … at which point I realized I couldn’t breathe. I had a sudden rush of panic, but Lacy carried on with no problems, so I managed to calm down. After all, the real me was safe in my bedroom. And as for Lacy - she was a machine. Probably, she only sucked air in and out so as to look real, and to work her vocal cords. Right now, she had something more important to suck on.
Or to massage, actually. I could feel my throat rhythmically squeezing the tip of Daddy’s cock, somewhere way down at the back. I had a suspicion that not many girls, pro or no, could do this.
My inner milking routine quickly got Daddy rock hard, and after a bit, he told me to get on my feet. When I did, he took hold of my hips, lifted me in the air and set me astride his cock, as quick as it takes to tell. No wonder Lacy was on the small side – it must have made the daily gymnastics easier. Anyway, I put my arms behind Daddy’s neck and held on for dear life, while he started to push my hips fore and aft – so as to saw my pussy lips along the top of his dick.
My pussy (the Lacy version of which was bald, and featured plump fleshy folds) was starting to pulsate, like it was trying to catch hold of Daddy’s cock. When he felt its drooling, nibbly little kisses, he lifted me off and said, “You can’t come yet. I’ll tell you when.” And then he adjusted me so that the end of his knob sat against my opening. I could feel my lips stretching wide to slowly envelope it. He didn’t push it in, like I expected; he just let gravity settle me down onto his shaft. The flood of my juices around it helped things along, some, but I (that is to say, Lacy, of course) couldn’t wait – it felt so damn good. So I tried to cheat by bouncing, but he told me that that wasn’t allowed, either. All I could do was try to relax my pussy, to speed my frustratingly slow downward drift.
When I finally hit bottom, Daddy grinned at me, and then he began to bounce me on his cock – lifting me up and down with his hands on my bum to deliver long steady strokes. It went on and on, and because I wasn’t allowed to come, I didn’t. I was skating real close to the edge, though, and it was maddening.
It was my first fuck, even if was a second-hand, two day old fuck, and I wasn’t physically there. And I wanted to come so bad, and I couldn’t because Daddy wouldn’t allow it yet. But I could beg, and I did – or rather Lacy did. It was part of the game, I guess, but for me it was heartfelt. “Please – please – please – I’m so close – please …”
When I’d pumped Adele for details the previous day, she’d mentioned that the men who got these dolls needed a big supply of EverReady pills – she said that stuff would let her Uncle Max keep on fucking without ever coming. Or come over and over, all night, if he felt like it. She’d gotten all wistful when she passed along that bit of news. For my part, I hadn’t known that guys needed that sort of help – I, myself, had managed several marathons of masturbation.
Anyway, it looked like Daddy was on the same pills. It was ages before he finally pulled me off and stood me on my feet. Then he lay down on the bed –his cock was still standing up, but I guess maybe his back was starting to fade. While he made himself comfortable, I stood there swaying and pulling on my clit.
He put his arms behind his head to watch me frig myself, for a bit, and then he tugged my leash and told me to sit on his rock-hard wang. “You can do the work, for a while,” he said.
I quickly crouched over him, so that I faced his feet, and I whimpered in anticipation as I guided his cock between my pussy lips. And then I drove myself down - hard.
My pussy practically went into convulsions, fluttering feebly on the tasty filling it longed to crush – but I still wasn’t allowed to come. I could get as close as I liked, though, so I set myself in motion - pushing myself slowly back up with my feet until my cunny lips just nipped the bottom ridge of his cock-head, and then dropping all the way back down his greased cock, again and again.
Once I’d set up a rhythm, I started stroking the skin of my belly, which was rather nice. And then I slid both hands down to where Daddy and I were connected together (which coincidentally squeezed my big tits pleasantly tightly between my arms). I began rubbing the heel of one hand on my clit, which left my fingers dangling just below my tight-stretched cunnie lips … where they were free to run along Daddy’s shaft, as it moved in and out of me. I let my other hand settle back into an overhand clutch at the base of his cock. And all the while, I was chanting, “Please, please, please …”
I kept humping on Daddy for what seemed like ages – and I knew I could keep going forever ... or at least until my power cell ran down. But I wasn’t sure how long I could stand the stimulation – machine or no, my eyes were watering, my nipples were puckered to tight buttons, and at some point I’d stopped chanting and started to make a growling sound in the back of my throat. As I ground up and down in a rising frenzy, I got more and more desperate.
At last, Daddy said, “Hold on tight, girl,” and he swung his feet off the bed like he was gonna stand up. The only thing I had to hold on tight with was my pussy, but he took fresh hold of my hips, and launched us off the bed together. He kept right on going, though, so that I finished up crouched on the floor, with him lodged inside me from behind. Leash still in hand, he began pumping hard. I only just heard him whisper, “Now.”
Lacy and I screamed, and each time my pussy clenched and released its prize, I could feel a fresh orgasm roar through me. After a great shudder and a matching bellow, Daddy joined in, his one-eyed monster rearing up inside me to pump a torrent of cum into my quaking belly.
It occurred to me that I was about to faint - my vision was going all star-bursty.
*
And then, the next thing I knew, I was sitting in Daddy’s closet, facing the Lacy-bot on her throne … and she was staring wide-eyed back at me. Also, THERE WAS SOMETHING SHOVED UP MY ASS! Way up - I could feel the head of it in my chest, somewhere, slowly withdrawing. It was both alarming and erotic at the same time – I closed my eyes to enjoy the sensation. When whatever it was popped out, I opened my eyes, and then shook my head to clear it. Obviously I was having some weird reaction to the virtual reality thingie.
The Lacy-bot shook her head, too, and lifted her hands to her temples along with me. Bitch. But then I finally realized that I was looking into a big mirror on the inside of the closet door. Which meant that I must still be wearing the headset; apparently I was getting a live feed. What time was it? Oh – the answer immediately arrived in my head. It was exactly 1401 hours - two o’clock in the afternoon. Lacy’s regular ‘start’ time.
Then something else hit me. I wasn’t just getting input from Lacy. I must be up-linking, too, ‘cause I’d been moving her arms around. Before, I’d been stuck in a recording, but now I had real-time control of her. Cool! I tried standing up – success! Except that I had a sudden sense of what was happening inside Lacy – hydraulics and servos and gyros all busily making her move for me. It only lasted a moment, thankfully, and then it was gone. I shivered it off, then stretched and smiled at my nudie reflection. And then I spun around to try to see what had been up my butt. There was nothing in the seat but some circular hatch-covers. It must have been her power cable I felt retracting.
That was a bit too weird for me – it was time to bail, now that I could move. I waved an arm to bring up the menu. Nothing. So I began to flap my arms and dance around, like trying harder would help - until I caught sight of my reflection again. All my ample, borrowed bits were bouncing merrily, and I had to laugh. God – I could get use to a body like this. I hefted my breasts in front of the mirror and watched my nipples harden until they could have served as coat-pegs. It felt so good!
Having calmed down, I realized that all I had to do to break the link was go down to my bedroom and use Lacy to take the headset off myself. No problem. In the meantime … why shouldn’t I spend a little time playing at being Lacy?
I was seriously horny, but the notion took me that I should be getting dressed. I suspected that both the horniness and the urge to put on clothing must be part of Lacy’s programming. But I figured it couldn’t do any harm to see what was on her hangers. Not the conservative daytime housekeeper stuff – I wanted to try out some of the sexy stuff she wore for Daddy.
There were negligees and teddies, harem pants and some kinky leather stuff. And there was also one of my school uniforms. Not mine, exactly – this plaid skirt was much shorter, and the white shirt was cut big enough to tightly encase Lacy-sized knockers. I pulled them on, all the time thinking, Holy shit! Has Daddy been fantasizing about me, even before I started to lust after him? I stared at myself in the mirror again. The hair, the face. Hell, the name. Lacy didn’t look so much like Mamma as she looked like me. (Not in the tit department, though.) Adele must have seen it. Why else would she suggest I go for a virtual romp with my own father? She’d even told me she’d done it with her uncle.
The idea that Daddy wanted me really wound me up. I sat back on my throne, flipped up my skirt (did I mention that I’d skipped the panties?), and began to frig myself, fingers churning deep. It was very, very pleasant, but it wasn’t getting me off. Plan B, then. I knew, through Lacy, that there were more sex toys in Daddy’s top drawer. I stepped out of the closet to get them, and suddenly realized I stood in precisely the same place Lacy had been at the beginning of the recorded sex session I’d just enjoyed.
And, even as that thought came to mind, my clothes vanished and I was stepping forward, and Daddy was coming out of the bathroom. The recording had started over again! For the next twenty-five minutes, I happily repeated the morning’s session - and it was every bit as much fun. The only difference was that at the point where I’d had the big ‘O’ and passed out, there was a sort of flash, like a power surge; after which the recording continued for a few more minutes, until my pussy stopped clenching long enough for Daddy to pull free.
>< >< ><
And then - he vanished. I turned my head to look for him, but he was definitely gone, along with the cum that had been leaking out of me. The recording had ended, as abruptly as it began, and left me still linked to Lacy, who was crouched on the floor. I must have acted out the whole thing, during the playback. Or acted out a lot of it, at least – some of the time, Lacy had been hoisted airborne.
I stood up and dusted off my uniform, which I’d been wearing all along, and then it occurred to me I needed to go into Daddy’s bathroom. I found that something new had been added since Lacy had arrived – a metal box the size of a shower stall stood in one corner. Without even thinking about it, I shed my uniform, stepped inside and closed the door. It began to hum, and then it started to fire needle-sharp jets of water at me from all around.
Turned out, it was sort of an android carwash. It washed, and maybe waxed, my entire exterior. Plus, by the time I stumbled out three minutes later, it had liberally flushed all my bodily openings … by pumping a flood of soapy water into my mouth with a flexible hose. The water then sprayed out everywhere else – ass, pussy, piss-hole, nose, and even my nipples, for God’s sake - in high-pressure jets. (I wondered: What does Lacy need to pee for? She’s a machine. There were some games I still hadn’t heard about, at that point.) The only holes I didn’t fountain from were my ears ... but afterward I got a shot of fresh oil squirted into them both.
Okay – that was different. I put my clothes back on and wandered down to the living room. After a few minutes of pottering around, tidying stuff up, I realized I was following Lacy’s afternoon routine. Shit. Get a grip, girl, I thought. I knew that what I should be doing was going to pull the headset off my real body. After which, I could figure out how to get the doll back upstairs … to hide the fact I’d been messing with it. But the thing was, this was Friday - Daddy’s late night. I’d be home alone for hours - time enough to see what else was in Lacy’s ‘library’.
The trouble was, I still didn’t know how to bring up the menu. So I carried on swinging a duster along the big mantle over the fireplace, while I considered the matter. As I reached up to brush a mote off the clock, I suddenly felt Daddy’s cock driving up my ass. Which was definitely a surprise. I was also now wearing a leather bustiere and high-heeled boots (and nothing else), and holding on tight to the mantle while driving my ass back to match Daddy’s enthusiastic pumping. The fire had suddenly come alive, too, and I could feel its warmth on my bare belly.
>< >< ><
When that recording ended, I was left folded over the back of the sofa with my tail in the air. Dazed, I began to wander around the house, hoping it would happen again. Which it did – in the laundry room, where I finished up sitting on the still-vibrating dryer (which I’d turned on during my weird re-enactment). That went rather well, I thought. There was definitely a pattern emerging here. It seemed like all I had to do was think of Daddy, and if I were in the right place, the appropriate recording would launch itself. Which it did again in the pantry, at the end of which I was standing naked on a counter, holding an empty bottle of olive oil (don’t ask). I couldn’t believe I’d slept through this stuff when it actually happened.
After a major mop-up and towel-down to get rid of all the oil, I found my uniform, dressed, and started wandering around the house again - waiting for ‘inspiration’ to strike. It took a little longer, this time, but when I stepped through the door into Daddy’s study, another recording launched itself. I felt the now familiar ‘blink’ as stuff changed around: the curtains now closed, a few books in new locations … and now Daddy himself was there, sitting in his favourite chair. He was wearing his best cashmere suit (which explained why it was at the dry-cleaners) – and his fly was open to display his cock, all ready to play. I crossed the room, shedding in my wake a mini-skirt and panties I hadn’t noticed in the closet. That left me in nothing but a long red silk shirt, the fabric of which was pleasantly slip-sliding on my skin as I walked - caressing my swollen nipples, and slithering over my hips to hide my already leaking pussy.
Daddy stood up to meet me and, taking hold of the globes of my ass through the silk, he pulled me in so close that his cock folded up tight against my belly. Then he kissed me, long and deep. As our tongues wrestled, he lifted my shirttails upwards so he could grip bare skin. After caressing my exposed bum cheeks for a while, he took hold of my hips and lifted me off my feet.
Just like in the first recording I’d experienced (twice, so far), I opened my legs to him, and wrapped my arms around his neck. There was no teasing, this time - he just hoisted me up and thrust into me until I was solidly lodged on his waiting cock.
Holding his shoulders tightly, I leaned out from his body, with my back arched, my feet hooked together behind his waist, and my pussy gripping onto his cock. I finished up levitating over the rug, looking up at the ceiling and shuddering with delight.
Daddy balanced me there for a minute, and then he marched me over to his desk and settled my ass down on its edge. I unwrapped my legs, and he began to plunge his slithery cock inside me, in and out, while pens and papers flew everywhere. For a while, I propped myself up with my elbows to watch him, but then I dropped flat onto my back – I could feel myself building towards a major orgasm. At which point, Daddy lifted up my now flapping legs and put my ankles onto his shoulders, without even missing a beat. His hips kept on slamming into me, and I gave a great groan as we finally came, together.
>< >< ><
Afterwards, Daddy eased his tool out, and settled back into his comfy chair. I struggled to my feet, expecting the recording to end and him to vanish. But he was still there, patting his knee and inviting me to sit. I climbed aboard, happily, and kissed his cheek. He gave me a hug in return, after which he lifted me up and spun me around so that my back faced his chest. And then, once he’d guided my slobbering cunnie back into position over his cum-coated cock … he let me drop. I took most of him in a single plunge; with just a little wriggling of my bottom to settle in comfortably, I had his entire organ burning and twitching inside me again.
Looking over at the mirror, I wanted to laugh. With his suit and my skirt-length shirt, we looked almost respectable … his cock was doing the nasty while completely hidden. We didn’t actively fuck, yet - I just sat quietly in Daddy's lap, while he rubbed my shoulders, and then ran his fingers through my hair. Finally, he asked me if I’d like to listen to some music. I agreed – naturally – and so then he tinkered with his remote to turn on his system and select a track. A bolero, he said it was.
Once it started, he stood up without warning, and we tumbled forward onto the carpet - still locked together. I landed on my hands and knees, and so did he, over top of me. After delivering a few long strokes – just because he could, I think – he pulled his cock free and rolled me to my back.
I just lay there and smiled at him – what’s next?
Not much – at first. He just lay alongside me, while his fingertips roamed all over my body with a touch that was just barely there. Closing my eyes, I let the music flow over me; and when, from time to time, he found a place that was more than usually sensitive, I’d moan my approval.
Gradually he worked his way downward. After he’d reached my feet, he gently spread my legs apart, and then lay between them. I braced my pussy for a good tongue-lashing, but instead he began to nibble and kiss my left knee. Huh? I propped myself up to stare at him, but he just carried on. Setting a nice easy pace, to match the music, he began working his way up to the inside hollow of my left thigh. A few munches more, and he’d reached my pussy. Finally! He continued up the plump outboard edge – good … nipped my clit – better … and then began working his way down the other side: pussy-lip, top of my leg (wait – go back!) and on down.
Okay – that was teasing. Again. But from my right knee he came back to my impatient pussy. He started by lapping up our mingled juices; meanwhile I lay back with my head on one arm, and played with his thick hair with my free hand. As I drifted, the rhythm of his movements was slowly increasing, along with the hypnotic melody.
Pretty soon, he started shifting his attention to my clit - giving it the faintest of brushes, then gliding away to explore my secret folds again, but always working his way back. Then he gently slipped his fingers in me, and began matching the rhythm of both the music and his tongue.
A while longer, and Daddy began to suck hard on my stiff clit, meanwhile feeding my pussy more fingers. I found my lust rising along with the pace of things. I was on the brink again, juices flooding, when he put his whole hand inside me. My orgasm hit me hard, and I could feel my cunnie grasping at his hand, pulling it deeper. And still the music was rising …
And then he abruptly pulled his arm free. I writhed and begged him to put it back - to please, please keep up the stimulation that fed the waves rushing over me. But instead, he ran together a row of little kisses up my belly, between my trembling breasts, and up my neck. When he reached my mouth, his tongue snaked and tangled with mine. And then, as the music surged on, he impaled me with his marvellous cock. I let loose a gasp both of surprise and of relief - but he paused AGAIN, while I squirmed under him and tried to move … tried to catch up to the relentless melody. I found it nearly impossible - he had me pinned, in several senses, to the floor. Between a cock and a hard place, as it were. He had complete power over me, and I was deliriously happy.
Lifting himself onto his arms, he put his head to the side, and gave me a wicked smile. He got to his knees, and seeing as I was still coupled to him, I was lifted along for the ride. Stuffing several large cushions under my bum, he next hoisted my ankles high on his shoulders to improve his angle of attack. Then, finally, he started to fuck me properly.
He drove hard and fast, and so did the music, until my cunt began clenching uncontrollably again. His eyes widened and then rolled back as he came, slamming deeper than ever and bouncing me into the pillows. As he toiled away, my shrieks echoed through the empty house, and I came too … I don’t know if was it one huge orgasm or a whole bunch, back to back, but it lasted for a long time.
And then he was gone, and I lay trembling on the rug, with some cushions under my ass.
Except, I really was beginning to feel run down. It dawned on me that Lacy needed to be recharged, and soon. In exactly five minutes, actually – an automatic alarm had gone off in my head. The urge to get upstairs to the charge base was suddenly overwhelming. There was definitely no time to go down to my bedroom, now. I hustled into the closet. I knew I was supposed to undress, but I also knew that it didn’t matter, what with no panties and all. The chair was ready and waiting for me – four inches worth of my charger coupling was already sticking out of the seat. I stared at the fat knob, with all its socket holes ready to fit into connector pins somewhere deep inside me. And all I felt was relief and anticipation. I promptly sat down so that the knob drove up inside my ass – which was kinda nice, actually – and then I wriggled a bit as it snaked steadily up, up into my body. That was even nicer. There was a bit of a jolt when the connection was made …
*
and then I felt good as new. Only, Lacy’s internal clock said it was now 2200 hours - ten o’clock. Anybody ever tells you androids dream, well, I can tell you this one doesn’t. If it weren’t for the clock function, I wouldn’t have noticed I’d been out four hours. It felt like as soon as the cable thing was all the way inside me, it started to glide out again. I didn’t even feel the thing disconnect.
And this time something new had been added. There was a second fat cable lodged in me – this one in my pussy. It was hot, and like the other, it must have been two feet long. It was also retracting, a little more slowly than the one in my ass. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the process, even as I took in the fact I was still linked to Lacy …
And then it hit me: ten o’clock? Daddy would be home any minute! What was I gonna do? If I rushed downstairs and snatched the headset off my real-life head, would Lacy still work properly? How could I get her upstairs, if she didn’t? By now my body was probably lying in a puddle of my own juices. I’d be all wobbly, and incoherent. ‘Scuse me, Daddy, I just borrowed your fuck-toy for the day, and I’m too worn out to get it back up the stairs. Give me a hand, would ya?’ Right.
But it didn’t much matter what I thought I should do - I could feel the bot’s need to go to the front door and greet Daddy. Hell, I was half way there already, without even realizing it. And then I thought – how would he know his daughter was linked to this thing? He could use me all night, plug me in, and then I could pop downstairs as soon as I come back on. I’d have all afternoon to sort this out … no, fuck, wait. Tomorrow’s Saturday.
By that time I was by the door, and there was my handsome Daddy, and I could feel my pussy leaking yet again.
“Hi there, Tracie! How was your day?”
Oh My Fucking God! Busted! How did he know it was me?
But then I heard myself saying, “S’ alright.”
“Why so glum, chum?”
And I started babbling some nonsense about how all the girls in my gym class tease me because they have smaller tits (which none of them did). So then I realized I was still wearing Lacy’s bustin’ out school uniform. Fridays must be ‘Tracie Night’, and Lacy was delivering her lines while I was busy panicking.
“I’m just tired, Daddy.”
“Come on, it's late – time for bed. You’ll feel better in the morning. We can go to the zoo. Want me to tuck you in?”
That gave me a turn – this was happening in real time. If we went downstairs, we’d find my drooling body zoned out on my bed.
But of course the scenario wasn’t likely to include a side trip to the real Tracie’s bedroom – if I was asleep (which is what I was supposed to be), a visit from Daddy and Lacy would be awkward for everybody. Even as I tried to guess what was coming next, I was saying, “Can I come up and snuggle for a while, first?”
So there it was. I thought, hot damn! Tonight Daddy is gonna pretend his doll is me … not just someone like me. And as long as the link held (which it had all day, so far), he really would be fucking me! More or less.
As it turned out, the script called for a gentle, first time fuck. And this was my first - in real time. I could definitely tell the difference - more detail, maybe. Also nice was that this time he kept saying my name:
“Um – Tracie - you shouldn’t be touching me there!”
“Why not? Willie seems to like it!” …
“Tracie, love. Are you sure you want me to do this?”
“Oh God, yes, Daddy! Now take off my skirt!” …
“Oh, Tracie, your pussy tastes so fine!”
”Yes! Put your tongue just there! Never stop!” …
“You’re so tight, Tracie – this isn’t hurting you, is it, baby?”
“No, Daddy, it feels wonderful. I never imagined!”
Okay - it sounds pretty lame, to tell it. But the thing was, that night I didn’t need a script.
After a couple of hours of slow and varied sex, I lay cuddled against Daddy, waiting to see what else he’d like to do. He stretched and yawned, and said “Time to sleep, now.” And then, I yawned, and began to feel tired. I was confused – I knew I had ninety minutes left on my charge – and then I realized it had been an order. I was being shut down.
I was disappointed, but happy. Daddy carried me into the closet, then kissed me softly and carefully sat me down so that my butt plug engaged properly. As it slowly crawled up inside me to make its connection, I said, sleepily, “Thank you, Daddy.”
He smiled, and then,
*
Wham! My power cable was sliding back out my butt, it was Saturday afternoon, and I was alone. The rude transition – and everything that had happened before it – made my head spin. But I knew that right now, I had to get down to my bedroom. I’d been linked to Lacy for thirty hours already - I must be getting hungry or something. I slipped out the closet door, and tried to avoid thinking anything that would throw me into another recorded fuck … as tempting as that was.
I heard Daddy humming in the shower, and I nearly lost it, right there. Plus, Lacy was hankering to get to her own shower stall. But the coast was clear, so I bolted through the bedroom (trying desperately not to picture my naked father just behind the other door) and ran off down the hall. I still faced some of the same problems as yesterday – I should have got dressed before I bailed out of the closet, ‘cause now I was gonna have to get a nude Lacy back upstairs - but it didn’t seem so important. I was pretty sure this couldn’t wait much longer.
Even so, I didn’t expect to find my body face down on the floor and the headset lying broken in a corner across my room.
>< >< ><
I – that is, the Lacy me – started to tremble. I somehow knew that this had happened at the end of my first session, when I’d fainted. And if my body had been unconscious, and the headset broken, all this time … then my thoughts, my memories – everything that was me - had somehow been transferred into an android.
And what now? I wasn’t sure if I could be put back. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to be. I had to talk to Daddy – tell him everything.
First things first. I on the way back upstairs I make a quick call.
“Adele –I have to talk to you.”
“Tracie – where’ve you been?” I finally realized that even Lacy’s voice was a remarkably good imitation of my own, if huskier - more sultry, like.
“Never mind that now. Get your ass over here right away.”
Then I ran up to Daddy’s room. I could hear him, still humming as he towelled himself down. Steady, girl. From outside the door, I said, “Daddy. Remember how, when I was five, Spots ran away? And you told me you’d find him, and you did? And remember how you used to sing me the same songs Mamma did after she was gone, even though it made you cry? Daddy, I made a mistake, and I need your help again.”
The sounds from the bathroom stopped, briefly, and then Daddy popped out, all wrapped in towels. I was huddled naked on the floor, blubbering, but what he saw was not his daughter but his sex-bot.
“Lacy? Get up! What the hell – you’re not supposed to be playing our games in the daytime.” Then he realized exactly what I’d said. “Have you got a programming glitch?”
I found myself standing to attention, and saying, “Analyzing – negative, all parameters normal.”
Daddy looked stumped. “Well, something’s wrong. Have you been talking to Tracie? Has she seen you like this?”
I was starting to panic, now, even as I tonelessly answered the direct questions: “No – I have not been talking to Tracie. Yes – she has seen my reflection.”
“Huh? Seen your reflection – when? Where?”
“At 1603 hours, in your closet.”
“That was just a few minutes ago! Is she in there now?”
“No.”
“Well, get dressed. I think you need a deep diagnostic, while I talk to Tracie. Shit.”
I reviewed Daddy’s words. First, a direct order – which, obviously, I was compelled to follow – followed by an ominous opinion. And, while I assumed the last bit wasn’t an order, I was in fact in deep shit. If I wasn’t careful, I’d get myself rebooted, and I had a feeling that that would be A Very Bad Thing.
I managed to get hold of myself as I walked into Lacy’s closet for clothes. Daddy hadn’t told me to stop talking – yet. “Do you know about the virtual reality system?” I asked, even as I hauled on the school uniform, that being the only thing in the closet that felt like mine.
“What are you talking about?” Somebody else didn’t read the manual. Like father, like daughter.
“About the headset device. It’s kept here, in the base of the charger.” By this time, Daddy was coming into the closet behind me, while I continued to answer his luckily vague question. “If someone wears it, they see what Lacy sees. Your daughter found it, and tried it on.”
“When …?”
“Yesterday. And she’s still wearing it now." For the moment I ignored what I’d only just seen in the basement. “She’s using Lacy this moment, to talk to you. Daddy – it's me!” I started crying again. “Oh, Daddy, I’m so sorry!”
He still didn’t look convinced – he certainly didn’t sweep me into his arms and console me. “But …”
I rushed on before he could stop me. “Adele told me about it – she said her uncle has an android sex … er, housekeeper.” Then I honest-to-God blushed (I suppose it was built into Lacy so she could look coy, once in a while). It was so silly – I couldn’t say ‘sex-toy’ to Daddy, but I could spend hours artistically fucking him. I was pretty nearly hysterical, already – I just needed to look at Daddy’s baffled face to put me over the edge. I began to giggle helplessly. Like, full-out, eyes-and-nose-streaming, leaning-on-the-wall, holding-tight- to-my-quivering-belly giggling. I nearly peed on the floor.
To my surprise, the colour drained out of his face. Turns out, the one thing Lacy doesn’t do is blush. Just a programming oversight, I guess. And what she especially doesn’t do is cross her legs to keep from wetting herself.
“Tra ... Tracie? Theresa? But you shouldn’t be …”
“I know Daddy, but I did, and now … there’s more.”
“Oh my God. Last night?”
“Um, yeah – that was me.” I was hugging him, now, and after a slight hesitation he hugged me back. “But the thing is, I’m stuck in Lacy!”
Well, the truth was out, but he still wasn’t getting it. I had to explain the whole story, including all the naughty bits. I was about to tell the part where I’d found my body on the floor and I’d been too scared to take my pulse, when the doorbell rang.
“That’s Adele. We’ve got to let her in.”
Daddy had barely opened the door for Adele, when I started in on a red-faced and completely incoherent recap of my story for her.
“Fruitbat!” said Adele.
I froze up solid, one arm still in the air caught in the middle of a demonstration of how I’d tried to bring up the menu. I was still ‘on’ - I just couldn’t move.
“What the hell just happened?” said Daddy.
“That’s your droid’s default safety word, in case something goes completely wrong - which I’d say it has. It's like an emergency override - puts it into standby. Didn’t ya read the manual?” She looked meaningfully at Daddy’s toga-towel wrap, and my skin-tight school costume, and added, “So where’s Tracie, anyway?”
“I’m pretty sure this is Tracie,” said Daddy. “She says her mind has been transferred to Lacy, somehow.”
Adele’s eyes opened wide. I could see the mental wheels turning. “Shit,” she finally blurted, and then she turned to me and said, “Batfruit!”
I dropped my arm and glared at her. “Batfruit? What kind of a secret word is Batfruit?”
“It’s not a secret – it’s in the damn book. It is you, isn’t it? You didn’t … tell me you didn’t redline, did you?”
“Which is what?”
“It’s really rare, but there’s been cases where the intensity level accidentally goes to 100%. If that happens – shit, it was printed in red caps! If that happens, you have to abort the link right away. Or else … Oh, God you did, didn’t you? Where are you? The rest of you?”
“Passed out, downstairs,” I said, but Adele was already on her way down. Daddy followed her, but I hung back. I already knew what they would find … what I had earlier refused to accept. I was fucked - there was definitely no going back for me.
>< >< ><
After a while, they came back upstairs. After a little group weep, Adele sort of took over. She said how I was hugely lucky, ‘cause supposedly nobody survives a redline, unless they bail, PDQ. Instead, I had somehow gained a new and improved body. And she told Daddy he was lucky too, ‘cause he still had me. She also managed to convince him that the best thing to do now was to tidy up and make it look like an accident. Which it mostly did, anyway – he just had to get rid of the fried headset.
So Daddy gave me a big hug, and then a little kiss – with some tongue, so I knew everything was gonna be great. Then we split up - Daddy went down to take care of ‘the scene’ before he called the cops. He said he’d have to hang around downstairs to deal with them, and the coroner, and stuff (which creeped me out even more). Meanwhile, Adele and me went and hid out in my closet. No point in confusing the issue.
There were two chairs in there (counting my throne) but we sat side by side on the floor, our shoulders touching, like we sometimes used to do in the basement.
“I’m so sorry,” Adele wailed. “It was all my fault.”
I gave her a squeeze, and said, “Don’t worry – you know I was gonna find that headset thing eventually. And screw it up, just like now.”
She snuffled a bit, and then said, “What’s it like?”
A direct question, but a vague one. “Clarify.”
Adele didn’t notice my improbable response, or my flat delivery – it was only one word, after all. “Well, okay, I tried it myself - I get the fucking part. But I mean, what’s it like being an android?”
“Oh. It’s just so bizarre.” I was in such a state of shock over being mostly dead that I hadn’t really thought about it much. “I still feel the same, like my old self. With a few upgrades, even.” I jiggled a tit with my free hand, to illustrate – which cheered me up, some. Adele was watching me so intently, I couldn’t help from adding, “And then there’s the special powers …”
Her eyes opened wide.
“Um – let’s see. Oh, right – I’ve got an internal clock. Wanna know what time it is in Lisbon?”
Adele snorted.
But there was more, wasn’t there? Like, my not needing to breathe was probably handy for more than blowjobs - would I still work underwater? And obviously I couldn’t get sick.
I quietly thought about everything for a bit, and then came back to Adele’s question. “The thing is I feel like Tracie, all right, but Lacy – her programming – she’s still in here, too. I’ve got these compulsions … like, right now, I really want my daily shower.”
“A shower?” Adele laughed.
“It’s more of a cleaning cycle, really. It’s a maintenance thing. I know I can’t, ‘cause we’re hiding out up her, but the urge is still there. And right now it’s five thirty-five, so I feel like I should be downstairs cleaning up after dinner. I can choose to ignore this stuff, but it feels better if I just do it.
“Plus I’m horny all the time. I can control that, too – except at night. Then, I’ll do anything and everything Daddy tells me to. I need to make him happy. Mind you, I’d probably want to do that anyway. But that’s the trouble – I don’t know what’s me, and what’s Lacy. We’re sort of mushed up together. All I ever think about is sex. Like when you said that safety word, I just froze up. I knew you could do anything you liked to me, anything at all. I was helpless …”
“God, Tracie! I didn’t even think of that …”
“No, no! The point is, I was mad at you, yeah, but the Lacy in me loved it. I started to think about what you could do with me. I was so frozen I couldn’t even pretend to breath.”
“Pretend! Geez - I keep forgetting. You look so human. Oh! Sorry, but you know what I mean. And I guess you don’t eat, either.”
“Just Daddy’s cum. I think there’s a reservoir inside me someplace, to store it all. Ha! Maybe that’s why I need a daily flush and rinse.” I looked at Adele’s face – which was a study – and sighed, “God – I really am a sex-bot! What am I gonna do?”
“Um – anything you like. You’re dead, girl.”
I gave her a glare. “Thanks a lot.”
“No – I mean, as far as the world knows, Tracie is gone. No more school, right? So you’re Lacy, now. But who even knew your Dad got himself an android, ‘cept me? It’s not like you two have had any company over. And I didn’t even tell my folks – what was I gonna say? ‘Hey. Guess what? Tracie’s Pop’s gone and got himself a new sex-toy.’” She raised an eyebrow to remind me she’d recognized Lacy’s real job. “They don’t even know about Uncle Max’s ‘girlfriend’, Greta. She looks human but she can’t quite pull it off. But you can pass for the real thing – sorry, sorry. But it’s true. You can go out on your Daddy’s arm as his new girlfriend. And you can hang with me at the mall, get some new clothes. It’s all good.”
I started to perk up, and then remembered. “There’s another thing about being a machine, Adele. A real biggie - my recharge. I’m already starting to feel run down. In twenty-two minutes, I’ve got to be on that charger base – look, it’s already getting set up for me.” I nodded to where the tip my charge probe had slid out of the chair. It was gleaming with the lubricant that would ease its passage inside me.
Adele whistled softly, and went over to examine it.
“I’m ‘on’ for four hours in the afternoon, from two ‘til six, to do housework. Then I’m off-line for four hours, and ‘on’ again at night, from ten ‘til two, to fuck Daddy. After that I’m ‘off’ for twelve hours. Not much time left over to read a book.” I laughed, and added, “Not that I want to. I’ve got something else to entertain me - I think I have a software glitch. I can access my own recordings, Adele. I know they were made especially for … for humans to watch. Not much use for Lacy.
“I can’t really control access yet – it seems to be triggered by my being in the same spot where it was first recorded. And I can block it, usually – if I want to. But once it starts, I can’t make it stop. Anyway, what really proves it’s not supposed to happen is that I act out the whole thing.”
Adele laughed at that. “You’re right – that probably isn’t supposed to happen. I gotta see that.”
She clearly didn’t realize she’d given a direct order, but … I stood and walked closer to the door.
“Tracie – what’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong.” My voice had gone all flat, again. Let's see - Daddy gave Lacy a quickie right about here …
I turned back to face Adele. Only it was Daddy standing there, and I was showing off a little black dress that was so tight, I was lucky I didn’t have to breathe. He just threw me on the ground and proceeded to give me a wild animal fuck – fierce and relentless. It was over in seven minutes flat. I was looking up with a satisfied smile at Daddy, and then he was gone and Adele was back. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was gaping.
“Holy fuck! That was so hot,” she gasped. “You were writhing like an eel, and then you hiked up your skirt and you pussy started munching the air, and then you came!” She hoisted her own skirt to show me the wet patch on her panties. “And so did I. See?”
“You’re welcome,” I said, with a laugh. And then as I lay there, I had a thought – “Adele - my heart is pounding. And I’m all sweaty, too. How can that be?”
“Sorry, Pinocchia,” she said, as she helped me to my feet. “Your heart is there for effect, mostly. It pumps all right – pumps fluid around to keep your body warm ... room temperature isn’t all that sexy. And the sweat is probably saltwater forced through your covering under pressure, or something. Another clever simulation, like your pussy-juices.” I guess she realized that she sounded a bit harsh, so she smiled and gave me a hug once I was up. “Besides, didn’t anybody tell you, girls don’t sweat?”
But I’d known I was grasping at straws – after all, I’d felt the same sweaty rush after every romp since I’d been in Lacy. “Yeah, yeah – girls dew, or shine, or something,” I answered.
She looked me up and down, again, like she was still trying to get used to the new me. Then she said, “Um - I made you do that, didn’t I? On the floor and all. I’m so sorry … again!” She stared at me some more, all thoughtful, and then she said, “Touch your nose with your tongue.”
I did, and held it there, glaring at my so-called friend.
“Geez – look at that thing! You could lick your eyebrows!”
“Ehnoogh…”
“Yeah, okay, put it away. Just testing. You’d have done the same.”
“Hmmph. Whatever. Right now, I’ve got to go sit on my chair.” I hesitated, briefly, before stripping in front of her – like she hadn’t just seen me orgasming on the floor. And anyway, I really wanted to show off my new body. So I did a little strip tease – a few turns, with my hands on my hips, and a bump-and-grind to finish. When I was done, I flushed and said, “Sorry – that was Lacy.”
“I know - s’alright. You really do look good.” She blushed, herself, and fidgeting a little. When I went to plug in, she crouched beside me to watch.
“It feels nice, actually,” I said. “Today it’s like a slow fuck – yesterday afternoon I cut it too close.”
I moaned softly as the thing rose up inside me, and then I caught Adele’s hand. “Please – can you be here when I come back ‘on’? I don’t have any sense of time when I’m ‘off’, so it’s like, in a moment from now you’ll just vanish. It’s scary. You don’t have to hang around in between. I saw Lacy when I … when I was getting the headset. Boring. And creepy.”
“Tracie! Of course I’ll be here.”
“Thanks! You don’t …” I felt the little tingle of connection.
*
“… know how much that means to me.”
Adele squeezed my hand and laughed, and I knew that four hours had just passed by without me.
“Thank you,” I repeated, and then, “Um. Where’s Daddy?” I gave a little shrug of apology.
“He’s right here, in the bedroom. I told him how having us appear and disappear scares you.”
As Adele spoke, the ass cable and hot pussy-probe were whirring and sliding back out of me. She crouched down to see better, and so I leaned forward to lift my bare bum up off the seat a few inches. The things soon popped free, and slid back into the chair. I could hear the little clicks of their lids.
“That is so cool. You never mentioned the core heater in your cunt. Remind me to make a vid of it prodding around, for you. I think you’d like that.”
Core heater? So that’s what that thing was. Warming me back up to the passably human zone. Eew. Mind you, it felt pretty good.
Adele realized she was getting sidetracked, and said, “I know you’re keen to, um, get started. But there’s a bunch of stuff to tell you. Listen – your Dad was pretty gutted about the coroner coming to take away your … um, you know. He came up here afterwards and sat with me, and the two of us just stared at you. He told me they think you had an aneurysm – like, your brain sorta exploded. Which I guess is basically true. And I told him what you told me – about still being Tracie … with some Lacy thrown in. I think it helped him get used to the idea that you really were still in there. ‘Cause you’re right – when you’re turned off, it’s a bit creepy. And so we got busy. We found this, for a start.” She held up the manual. “You can read it tomorrow morning.”
“But I can’t …”
“We reprogrammed you, this evening. You’ll be ‘on’ for a six-to-ten shift now, every morning. You can read other stuff, too … or catch up on home movies.”
I giggled at that.
“Most of your programming – the horniness, and stuff – is preset at the factory. Geez – you came out of a factory! And the ‘following orders’ thing, especially, is hardwired. You prob’ly haven’t figured it out yet, but you are, like, super strong. The dudes that made Lacy didn’t want her to blow a chip and go all killer-robot on them. Nobody expected you to move in. If it makes you feel any better, they also made it so nobody can order you to hurt yourself, or anyone else. I think it's some kinda law. But at least we managed to turn off your urge to clean and cook. Now you can go to the mall with me without getting all twitchy! And we set you for daily back up – just in case. You’re practically immortal, now.”
“Huh?” I gave her a clueless stare.
She gave me a big, happy grin. “Like, in case a train hits you, or something, we’ve saved your stunning intellect.”
I stuck out my long tongue at this.
“No - seriously,” she said. “We can just order a new droid and pop you in!”
That concept was a bit startling – but what I liked best was the ‘we’ part. Adele was right in there with Daddy and me. Which is why I was so pleased when she added: “The other thing is, I asked your Dad if he’d mind … if he’d let me join you guys, sometime. Like, as a threesome. I told him I’ve had some experience – or, at least my mind has. He said that would be nice – if it was okay with you!”
Adele knew, better than anybody, that whatever Daddy liked, I had to like. But I gave her a big hug, and said, “Tracie would really love that.”
“Great! Then let’s get started – I have to be home by eleven.”
“Right then. Let’s find us some tavern-maid costumes. Saturday is Pirate Night.”
I couldn’t wait to sample her charms – and help Daddy do the same.
When I glanced back into the mirror, to check on my own costume, I sorta did a double-take. Wait a minute! My favourite bodice? I’d never seen these clothes before. But Lacy had – and machine or not, it seemed that she had favourite things. And, now that I thought about it, it had been her memories that had told me about the pirate game in the first place.
There was no time to wonder about that, though – Adele was ready. Once we’d admired each other hungrily, we stepped out of the closet - two serving-wenches at your service, Daddy. And there he was, as promised … but he didn’t look remotely like a pirate. He was in his pyjamas, sitting nervously on a little chair with his hands folded in his lap like a little boy who was expecting to be scolded.
Poor Daddy! I ran to him, and he looked into my eyes like he was looking for me, Tracie, in them. Well, they looked like mine, all right, because they’d been made that way. But they were mounted in the face of the robo-slut he’d been fucking steadily for the past two weeks (which, as I said, also looked quite a bit like the old me). I knew I needed to do something more to reassure him, so I knelt down and hugged his stiff legs.
“Daddy … oh, Daddy, I thought I was lost, but you … you and Adele … you found me, and brought me back …”
So there was another group hug, with more tears, followed by a few laughs:
“You looked so funny when you saw me in my silly school uniform …”
“Ha – you shoulda seen your face when I froze it in the middle of that rant about your getting fucked silly …”
After a while, though, it got kinda awkward – nobody knew what to do next.
Daddy had just gone through an emotional roller coaster, over me. I was dead, and now I was back – sort of. But somehow Adele had managed to convince him that his daughter still needed his help – but in new ways, on account of what had happened to me. Now, I needed him to take care of my need to please … and to satisfy my desperate horniness. At the same time, I was pretty sure he was still embarrassed about the all stuff he’d already done with Lacy. I didn’t entirely blame him - her memories were still gradually leaking into mine. I’d already known they’d had a busy couple of weeks - all those recordings added up to three fucks a night, plus a few extra. Now, I was beginning to find out the details. Like, for example, that Friday when me and Adele went to the movies, they did it in my bed.
As for Adele – she’d also talked Daddy into letting her join us – which was a Good Thing, except I could tell she was beginning to have doubts, too. She’s always talked a good game, playing the cocky redhead, and I knew her virtual reality practice was nearly as good as the real thing … but only nearly. This would be still her real first time.
I, on the other hand, was getting hugely wet imagining Adele holding my leash while I probed her pussy with my mega-tongue. It struck me that I’d already accepted her as my co-owner. That came as a shock, mostly because I hadn’t realized I’d already started to think of Daddy as owning me.
So, we were all a bit anxious. I needed some action real soon, but I could see I’d have to start out slow. I had an idea: “Daddy – Adele is supposed to go home soon. I don’t suppose she could, ah, sleep over, tonight?” She used to stay over on Saturday nights all the time, so I figured there’d be no problem with her parents – apart from her curfew, they seemed to me to be too busy making and spending money to worry about what she was up to. “She could say I’ve got some old movies, and we were going to have a pirate night!” This, of course, would be true – as far as it went.
“That would be great … except, they’re going to hear the news about your ...” He still couldn’t even say it.
Crap! Tracie was officially dead. From now on, Adele and I would have to cook up some major alibis for us to keep spending time together. In the meantime, it was definitely time to lighten things up. “Right. We can worry about that later, ‘cause I’m still here. So, let’s go to bed. Arr?”
“Um – Arr,” said Daddy.
>< >< ><
I went first and made a nest of pillows at the headboard so I could sit with my legs out straight in front of me. “Adele – come and sit on my lap, girl.” She did, parking her lean bum on top of my wide hips. “That’s the way - lean right back onto my boobies – put your legs outside mine. Good. Remember – we’ve just been captured by the pirate king. ” I figured we’d leave out the manacles, this first time, but I reached around and tugged her vest open more, so as to display her little breasts to advantage. Then I wrapped my arms tight around her silk-bound belly, and twisted my head sideways so as to be ready to watch the fun in one of Daddy’s newly installed mirrors. “Prepare to be boarded,” I whispered.
Our pirate king took off his pj top, which went a long way towards putting him in character – he stood there admiring us with his hair dishevelled, his feet and tanned chest bare, and his pyjama pantaloons tied with a black silk cord. Then he knelt on the bed in front of us, and I could feel Adele shiver when he ran his fingertips along her cheek. Her chest and face got all flushed, so that all her freckles were highlighted. I think she’d expected Daddy and me to provide a live demonstration first, but here she was, the centre of attention.
“Oh. Ah. Um. That’s quite … nice.” She trembled some more as Daddy slid his touch down her neck and then out to the point of one of those pretty breasts. “Does anybody else think it’s hot in here?” She always starts to babble when she's nervous.
She started to say something more, but Daddy told her to relax, not talk – and I thought good luck with that.
He gently spread my legs apart, which served to pull hers open even wider, and also caused her gauzy little skirt to bunch up around her waist. Then he slid up between our combined knees, and leaned down to where our pussies were now stacked one over the other. When he started nuzzling and licking her, she giggled, at first, and said it tickled. But then she began to squirm and gasp, and clutch his head, pulling him into her. All the while she gave a running commentary:
"Mmmmm ... yup ... OK ... yeah ... yeah ... right there … that's so good ... ohh yeah ..."
By and by he let off munching her and, after giving my leaking pussy a slurpy big kiss, he sat up. Winking at me, he slipped a finger inside her and, while waggling it, he asked her if she wanted to keep going.
She lifted her bottom up to try and take more, saying, "Yeah - ooh, yeah! Now!"
Instead he removed his sticky finger, and shucked his pants.
Adele tensed, and said, "Holy shit!"
“Problem?” I asked.
“Nothin’.” Then she laughed, sheepishly. “Only, it’s a bit bigger than I expected.”
Daddy smiled, and then leaned forward to kiss each of her breasts in turn. She stared down at the healthy little mounds - their tops covered by a dusting of freckles, their bottoms creamy white, and their plump nipples seriously stiffened - as though she’d never noticed them before.
“Oh. Oh. Oh.”
“No, no,” I said. “It’s yo ho ho.”
She snorted, and nudged me with an elbow, but I knew she was hot for it, now, eyes glowing and cheeks flushed. Even so, she chewed her bottom lip nervously as he brought his tool to bear, and caught her breath when he rubbed its head in her fleshy little pink orchid’s leaking nectars, to lubricate the thing. When at last he pressed its snout against her petals, they parted easily and his cock sank a little way into her hidden depths.
"Oooh ... ohh ... ohWOHHH ... Oh Jesus!!! My CUNT! ...“
So much for the flowery romantic descriptions. Daddy immediately pulled out of her, and then generously parked his erection inside me. It was my turn to gasp – in relief. I was getting seriously turned on. Well, okay – since my accident, I was always turned on. While Daddy slowly pumped into me, he asked Adele if she was all right.
She caught her breath – I had taken up caressing her breasts when Daddy had re-focused his energies - and then said, "I'm okay ... I just forgot ... it hurt, some, but it's fine now ... put it back!"
What she’d forgotten, of course, was that in spite of her virtual reality experiences she was still technically a virgin. Or had been. Daddy chuckled, and after giving me a few more strokes, he obliged the greedy baggage, at my expense, transferring his cock back and easing it carefully into her.
As it slowly began to disappear again, she closed her eyes and arched her back against me. He got it in about halfway, this time, before she told him to stop. For the space of a few deep breaths, she stared at their junction. “Okay ... better now ... more, please.”
He pulled out until only the head was engaged, and then drifted it slowly in again.
“Yup ... that’s got it ... Ohh! ... wait … wait … okay, push ... oooh, yeah ... more yet ... that's so GOOD!”
Once it was properly in, and she’d gotten used to it, Daddy began to thrust. She continued her commentary, gasped out to the rhythm of the strokes:
"It feels … so good ... Tracie! ... I can feel him ... way inside ... look! ... It goes … so deep! ... Richard ... does it feel … this good … for you?"
Richard? Obviously, while I’d been switched off this evening, they had progressed somewhat past ‘Mr. Ward’. Mind you, I guess Miss Manners would probably agree that once his cock was buried inside her, she was entitled to a certain level of informality.
By this time, they were pretty much ignoring me, but seeing as how I was pinned under them both, I managed to get some good vibrations, regardless. And neither of them objected to me stroking a passing tit or thigh. As their pace picked up, so did Adele's volume. When she was close to coming, she tensed up and got a frantic look on her face, and just kept saying "Uhhh! ... Uhhh! ... Uhhh! ... " to match his strokes. Finally, she let out an impressive howl.
When it looked like her orgasm had subsided, Daddy pulled himself free and lay down beside us. He gave me a nod and a wink – she was all mine, now. I grinned my thanks, and slithered out from under my limp friend, emerging opposite Daddy. I started in by licking the remnant of her tears from alongside her nose – between the weep-fest warm-up, and her orgasm, her eyes were shining pools. She just smiled up at me vacantly – Daddy had really rung her chimes. Next I slid the tip of my tongue around her nearest earlobe, and then carried on down to taste one of her still scrunched nipples. That brought a gasp out of her … and then she whispered, “Fuck me.”
Well, that was definitely a direct order. I blinked twice while it registered, then got up and went into the closet. I could hear Adele’s baffled voice: “What…?”, so I wasn’t sure if she knew (and I was positive Daddy didn’t) that Lacy was a full service sex-bot. On the opposite side of my base to where I’d first found the headring - just two days ago - was the keyboard and screen they must have used to adjust my programming. Under that was a drawer, and in the drawer was a selection of accessories. When I got back, I was carrying what looked like a fat, pink, and thoroughly dead snake. Up close, though, you could see that it was a lifelike rendering of a penis – or, more exactly, two penises connected butt to butt. It was two or three feet long and hung limp in my hands, but it was quite firm. It also had a skin-like covering, so that I could slide back and forth both its faux foreskins. Which I did, while grinning at Adele, before spreading my knees spread lewdly, then lifting the hem of my chemise and slowly pushing one end into my hungry pussy.
It felt wonderful, what with all the knobbly bumps on it. And also strange, because my engineered pussy muscles took hold and sucked two-thirds of it up out of sight. After which, somewhere in my chest, I could feel the thing dock: first its snout fit into a rubbery socket, and then I felt a probe of my own find its slit and slide in through. Seriously weird shit was happening inside me, but given what had already gone down, I was like, why start worrying now? Closing my eyes, I waited. Somehow I knew I was making connections … both hydraulic and electronic. While I waited, I swung my hips idly, just to feel the still-protruding length of bogus cock swing and bounce against my thighs. Finally, I opened my eyes and tested whether I’d gained control of it. Focusing my concentration, I felt fluid pump into its length, and watched in fascination as ten inches of dildo hoisted my silk hem to stand at attention in front of me. I almost came right then, it pressed so hard against my clit. When I’d performed my snake-charmer trick, I put my hands on my hips and waggled the thing at Adele. Then, still smiling wickedly, I said, “As you wish!”
Her eyes were bugged out – it looked like she probably didn’t know about my full service feature, after all. I didn’t want to outright scare her, so I lay down beside her and invited her to do the deed at her own pace. So she squatted above me, and the view she provided was quite entertaining. Most of her clothes had already blown off in the round with Daddy, but she still had that red sash around her belly. Below that, I could see a moustache of frizzy orange-red curls fringing her lower lips, which were moist and swollen into a little pussy-pout – and were still drizzling a thread of Daddy’s cum.
“I’m ready whenever you are, girl,” I told her.
And then Daddy joined in. He took hold of my tool, to help guide it between her wide-set thighs ... and I could feel his grip. As near as I could figure, never having had a cock before, it felt just like a real one would - it was way sensitive. When Adele lowered her ripe little bottom to press her pussy lips against it, it felt fabulous. For her too, I guess - she honest-to-God growled, and then squirmed a little, and suddenly those lips slid around the thing's head. She winced a bit, but having got it started, she began to ease her way down its length - real slow, like - sometimes stopping and sometimes backing off, but taking in more all the time. Daddy moved his hand clear and took hold of her nearest breast, and put his other hand on her back, so as to hold her steady. That left her hands free - one to hold on to the unswallowed part of my tool, and the other to rub herself in little circles at the base of her mound, at the point where it was disappearing. All the while, she stared down with dazed fascination.
Once she’d got the whole thing inside of her, she sat there gently rocking, still using both hands to explore where her wide-stretched lips pressed against mine. Then she started to rock back and forth on it, and at last to ride up and down, slow at first. As she rose, her cunnie lips clung to it, as if reluctant to let it go; on the down-stroke they folded back out of sight. She still had a blank look on her face, her eyes wide and unfocused, and I asked her if she was okay. She just grunted, and nodded her head. She certainly seemed to be getting the hang of it - she started picking up speed, her hair flying and her compact little breasts jiggling, until pretty soon she was leaping like a monkey-on-a-stick.
And, finally, her mouth clicked back into gear: "Yeah ... ahh ... fuck … meeeee ... please ... uhhh ... DON'T ... augghh! ... STOP!!" Which wasn’t up to me - I wasn’t doing anything but lying back and enjoying myself. Her legs were pumping fiercely, and she began to stiffen and shudder. “Oh … my … God ... Tracie! ... I can … feel it ... you're ... I can … feel you … cumming ... So much …” She gasped, as she arched her back again. "Whoa ... whoa ... OHHMYGOD!!"
Then her eyes rolled back and she fainted forward on top of me, her fall cushioned by tits.
“Wow,” said Daddy.
I giggled. “She’s still …”
“I guessed,” said Daddy, as he stroked Adele’s trembling butt – her pussy was in overdrive, trying to milk my imitation cock of its hot, simulated cum. Some of the excess was flooding down my flanks. “You really did come,” he added, in amazement. “You’re just full of surprises.”
“And cum,” I laughed. The truth is I was mostly surprised that I'd taken so well to my new skill.
While we waited for Adele to come back to planet earth, me and Daddy shared a bit of tongue. When she finally came around, she was still impaled on my rigid dick, and too spent to do anything about it; so Daddy lifted her free, and gave her a hug. “Ready to go home, now?”
“Yes, please,” was her dreamy answer.
He turned to me with a smile, and said, “Can you, um, take that thing off?”
“Yeah, well, the thing is – I don’t know how. Maybe if you …”
Daddy nodded. “Time to take off the dildo now, Tracie,” he ordered.
That did the trick. The solution simply appeared in my head. Turned out, it was designed so that my owner could do it without my help – I shucked off my costume, and then pushed a finger through my bellybutton to hit the thing’s release switch. It drooped limply onto my belly as my hard-on deflated, and then I could feel the links disconnect inside me. Nothing to it.
Adele lives on the next street over – actually, there’s only a couple of estates between us. (As you’ll have guessed by now, Daddy has buckets of money. Everyone around here does.) Anyhow, there’s a trail we used to sneak back and forth – it turns out it’s real easy to bribe guard dogs. But Adele wasn’t exactly up for the walk just then, and so after we’d cleaned her up and dressed her, Daddy got dressed himself and drove her around the long way. I used the time during the brief intermission to take my delayed shower - you have no idea how refreshing a total body sluicing can be. I briefly re-installed my dildo, just for the occasion – at some level, my programming told me I had to keep my tools serviced.
By the time Daddy got back, I had the dong back in its drawer and my leash on. “ARRR,” he said, when he saw me.
After some more buccaneering fun, we finished up just snuggling together until almost two. Daddy was half asleep – when I told him I was getting ‘sleepy’, he just murmured, “G’night, sweetie.” I slipped out of bed and into my closet, where my chair was waiting. I sat down on my cable probe and smiled as it eased into me – all in all, it had been a busy day…
*
And then my core heater was suddenly in my pussy, and both probes were sliding out of me. In a heartbeat (not that I still had one) it was now early morning, and I was alone, although I could hear Daddy snoring behind the door.
I considered jumping back in bed with him, but he needed his sleep – and although Adele had said I wouldn’t be quite so horny during the daytime, I knew if I got back in the sack I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands to myself. What to do, then? Later I could make him some breakfast … perhaps ‘coffee, tea or me’? But in the meantime …
And then the phone rang. I actually jumped. I’d dropped mine
somewhere, yesterday, during the flap over being dead and all. Had Adele put it
in my closet? Before I could look around, I heard her voice in my head: “G’morning, Tracie!”
“Wha…?”
“That’s the first
thing I called you about. Read yer manual this morning! Among other things,
it’ll tell you about the dedicated com-link in your head, silly. I took one of
the owner’s ear-buds home with me last night. We are, like, connected! Cool,
no?”
“Um – yeah. Just surprised me, is all. Won’t we wake up Daddy?”
“Not unless you’re
talking out loud. You are, aren’t you? Try thinking the words – it’s designed
to work for Lacy, but you should be able to …”
“Testing … testing … Adele is a …” Shit, I couldn’t even think of anything rude to call my new mistress.
“Assuming your lips
aren’t moving now, you’ve got it. Um. The other thing I called about … did your
Daddy talk about me, after I left?”
“Yeah – he said you
were ‘shagalicious’.”
“Huh?”
It was my turn to laugh. “It’s
old school – he means you’re yummy to fuck.”
“Oh? Well, good,
‘cause …”
“And he wants us to
get together soon. In the meantime, he says we should all go to the mall.”
“Hey, great! But
listen – the thing I need to tell you is, I told Momma how you had a bad
accident yesterday, and that I got home so late ‘cause when I got to your
place, there were ambulance attendants and police and stuff … and then I cried.
Fer real. Anyway, the thing is - I’ve been thinking about it, since then, and I
figure the only way we can get together now is with some kinda cover story.” Clearly
great minds think alike. “But the only
thing I can come up with is to bring Uncle Max into our secret.”
“Huh?” Okay – so I wasn’t quite up to speed, here.
“He knows about droids
– obviously – and he likes me. I’ve kept his secret, after all. He won’t mind
if we cook up something about him tutoring me in math, or science, or
something. What do ya think?”
“It sounds like it
just could work. Do you want me to come along to help explain?”
“That would be fun –
we can see how long it takes for him to figure out what you are. Anyway, I
gotta get some more sleep. Do you know I had to set my alarm to get up at this
awful hour?”
“Poor baby.” At
least I could still be cheeky. “Sorry to
wear you out.”
“Huh,” was the
best snappy comeback she could come up with. “Anytime, lover. Talk to ya soon.”
After Adele had checked out, I turned to the manual, which was conveniently sitting on a nearby shelf. The thing was two inches thick, so I wasn’t sure how far I’d get in one sitting. From the cover, I discovered that I had become an ‘Acme Robotics Corporation PleasureDroid 1600’. Fancy title for a fuck puppet, I thought. Not that I was bitter, mind you. Just the opposite, actually - when I read that I was ‘fully warranted to give satisfaction’, I felt proud.
I started to flip through the book. Some of this stuff I already knew about, either from Adele (like the com-link, and the safety word) or from playing back Lacy’s recordings. And there must be lots more info, locked inside my head – after all, I knew about that dildo attachment as soon as I was given an order that seemed to call for it. The problem was that whole ‘locked in there’ part.
Unfortunately, it was nearly locked inside the book, too, hidden in a tangle of stultifying techno-babble. It read like it was written for someone planning to fix the thing … er, me. There also seemed to be an awful lot of warnings, in bright red ink. Such as this charming page:
* Your PD1600 will automatically return to its
base to recharge.
Warning: Please ensure that the unit has access to its base
station at this time.
* As soon as each charging cycle commences, the PD1600 will shut down. Warning: Do NOT attempt to disconnect the unit during this process. The base station MUST take over control of the unit to perform diagnostics and routine servicing … blah, blah.
*
Should your PD1600 power levels drop below preset levels, due to
failure to return to base or through internal malfunction, the unit will
automatically shutdown in order to limit possible file corruption or hardware
failure … blah, blah …
Warning: The unit
should be returned to its base station as soon as possible after an emergency
shutdown.
All right, I get it already – recharge or fry.
* In the event that delayed charging becomes
necessary… blah … the unit must
remain on its base as long as necessary … blah, blah … will perform a more extensive diagnostic regime … blah, blah, blah.
Warning: System
analysis may, at this time, identify that a full reboot is necessary (see
Section 34).
Reboot? Yikes, there’s that word again. Flip, flip, flip, some more, and then:
* Your PD1600 has been shipped with a primary
personality. Other custom personalities may be ordered and downloaded. When
installed, these may be alternately selected as desired, by verbal command (See
section 42).
I definitely didn’t like the sound of that. Was I patched in as the personality of the day, with Lacy waiting her turn? It was hard to tell – I could definitely feel her in here. So either she was still lurking around, or we’d been sorta welded together. Neither version appealed.
The item carried on:
* Additionally, each personality may be
adjusted in various ways, using the base control panel. The unit’s apparent
levels of experience, intelligence, and confidence may all be set (and reset)
on a scale of one to ten.
Warning: These adjustments will not take effect until the
unit’s next charge cycle.
So - wide-eyed virgin to mega-slut, bimbo to librarian, shrinking violet to Xena the Warrior Princess … all at a keystroke. Fuck! Would that work on me, too? And would I even know if it did? I didn’t particularly care to find out. The only good news was that there was a ‘restore settings’ button. Which made me wonder – what were my default settings? Or was I presently using Lacy’s settings … by default?
I discovered I’d have to ask Adele, sometime, ‘cause when I tried to touch the button that activated the controls, I found I simply couldn’t. Hmmm. So I flipped the book open again, and read:
* Please save the shipping container to return
the product for warrantee service or recycling.
Warning: Do not dispose of this product in
municipal landfills
.
OhMyGod. That was definitely enough of the manual for one sitting. I was both zoning out and wigging out – which probably meant my setting was leaning towards bimbo. Except, I was aware of the fact. Did that mean anything? My head would have hurt, if it could, which it didn’t seem to do anymore. Fuck it – I’d had enough reading for now, whatever the reason. Time to go wake Daddy.
He was on his back, and still snoring, so I just slid back in under the covers … to discover that his cock was lying on his belly all plumped up and nearly ready for action. Hey, I thought – a morning hard-on (I hadn’t been a complete zero on the experience scale before I joined forces with Lacy). Well, one thing led to another. Daddy soon woke to find that I’d mounted him like Adele had boarded me the night before.
“Good morning, Daddy,” I said, happily.
He gave me a smooch, and then lifted me off his knackered knob.
I was a bit disappointed I’d worn Daddy out already, but I sucked it up and said, “Sunday breakfast! Right – what would you like? Fruit? Cheese? Eggs Benedict? Coffee, fer sure.”
“Christ, I’m sorry, Trace, I forgot you can’t eat …”
He’d also forgotten that his stated needs were my commands, although in this case the sooner I fulfilled them and got him back in fettle, the sooner I’d be back in the saddle. “Don’t worry about it – relax and I’ll whip up anything you like.”
“Just some bacon and eggs would be nice – and, yeah, coffee. Thanks.”
“You got it,” I chirped, and skipped off to the kitchen to get started while Daddy hauled himself out of bed and showered. He wandered in just as I’d finished laying out our breakfast. I joined him at the table – I wasn’t hungry (for food!) but it just seemed cordial. And, hungry or not, it all smelled pretty good. I idly dabbled a finger in the jam and licked it clean – mmm, strawberry. So then I thought, well, I can eat cum – so why not nibble on some of my other favourites? After all, it would all come out in the wash … so to speak.
Daddy lifted an eyebrow as I began to tuck in. “God, Tracie! I look at you, and I still see Lacy, but … she never ate with me.” I guess Lacy just wasn’t much for breakfast, ‘cause if I could do it ... hey!
All in all, I could see Daddy was starting to look on the bright side – after all, I’d become his daughter, his lover, and his sex-toy, all rolled into one package. I was planning to get him to work his way down through that list, again, but just then the back door burst open. Which meant, Adele had arrived! Hurray!
“Did you tell him?”
“Hello to you, too, Adele,” said Daddy.
“Right! Hey, Richard,” she said, and then laid a big kiss on him. “Yum – marmalade! She didn’t tell you, did she?”
“Give us a hint, cutie.”
“Me and Tracie think we should go see my Uncle Max. We need to set up a cover story, so I can keep spending time with you two.”
“Good idea. When?”
“Well … nowish, actually. I told Mom I was walking over to Max’s place for a while. We’ve still got two and a half hours,” - she gave me a meaningful glance – “before robo-babe, here, turns into a pumpkin.”
“Looks like you’ve got it all figured out. Carry on then. I’ll go rest my weary bones and then take another EverReady pill.”
“Geeze, Tracie, don’t wear him out. Save a little for me.”
Well I can take a hint – or in this case, direct orders from each of my owners. Fine then – let’s go see Max.
>< >< ><
“So – what’s the plan?”
“Did you read all about your accessories, yet?”
“Huh? Not as such …”
Adele sighed. “Not a problem. Listen – Uncle Max really thinks of Greta as his girlfriend, even if it looks like there’s a bit of a ’Stepford Wife’ thing going on. She’s got her own bedroom, and her own stuff. Anyway, let me do the talking.”
We’d simply shown up on Max’s doorstep. It was still only eight o’clock, but Adele said he was always up early, ‘cause Greta kept the same hours as I did. Which meant we knew she’d be awake (as it were), too.
“Hey, Uncle Max! It’s me!” Which it pretty much had to be, since we were knocking on the glass door of his pool room, and standing there required getting past his two big Dobies.
It was Greta who answered the door, wearing a high-cut swimsuit. She was blonde, and way taller than I’d expected – like, almost six feet.
“Hello … “ She paused for about a nanosecond when she saw me behind Adele, then continued, “Come on in.”
Max came up behind her, in a tatty old bathrobe. “Hey, Adele.” He gave me a quick, appraising look - but it was a ‘checkin’ out yer bod’ sort of look, not, ‘Say! Aren’t you a robot?’
“Hey, Uncle Max. This is Mister Ward’s friend, uh, Lacy.”
“Hi, Lacy. Ward? Oh, right – Tracie’s Dad. How’s she doing?” Which meant that either my demise wasn’t common knowledge yet, or - more likely - Max just hadn’t heard the news. I’d visited with Adele a few times, pre-Greta. So he was bound to think it was odd for her to bring over Daddy’s luscious new tart (which is what I must have looked like, in spite of my wearing my most respectable clothes) and not me - Tracie.
“Oh, she’s … pretty good,” said Adele. Then she just smiled.
Max gave a tiny shrug – knowing his niece would explain everything when she was good and ready to – and invited us in to sit.
“Want anything to drink? Soda, or coffee?”
“Sure, I’ll have a Perrier.”
“Yes, I’ll have one too, please,” I added. No harm in keeping the fluid levels up between flush-and-fills, what with all the leakage between my thighs.
Interestingly, it was Max who went over to the pool-side bar for the drinks, not Greta. She smiled blandly and offered an opinion about the weather – which in these parts doesn’t change from one week to the next – while we checked each other out.
I remembered she’d fooled Adele, at least for the short time until Max had spilled the beans, and I could see how. Her owner had a taste for Germanic girls, obviously, but we were the same in so far as – what? Quality of finish? Craftsmanship? Whatever, we both looked like the real thing. The only way I could tell she was a machine like me was that I could sense her power plant. Plus, if I focused, I could hear the faintest of whirring from inside her. And vice versa, of course.
And yet Adele was convinced Greta couldn’t hold up the pretence for long. The only thing I noticed was that my fellow droid was a bit deliberate – she seemed to be careful about what she did and said. As opposed to me … even after my ‘change’, I tended to act without thinking. Although, when my brain or my programming caught up, the brakes came on. Adele had said I couldn’t hurt anyone, but if they snuck up behind me and yelled, “Boo”, all bets were off.
When Max came back, Greta was saying nice things about my clothes. Maybe she’d run out of semi-intelligent conversation soon, but that wouldn’t make her stand out around these parts, either. And then there were her eyes – I could swear there was a spark of humour there. She certainly saw no reason to tell her owner about my secret identity.
Max gave us our drinks and sat down on the sofa, and she slid into place right beside her master, which made me notice that I’d done the same beside Adele. I edged away a bit, to play cool, and took a slug of water.
“Have you known Richard for a long time?”
“Um, yeah. Quite a few years, actually,” I answered. “Tracie, too.”
“She’s a good kid.”
I nearly thanked him, but instead managed to say, “Yeah, well, she has her moments.”
He laughed at that, and said, “Don’t they all,” with a meaningful glance at his niece.
Adele didn’t seem to take offence, or show any sign of getting to the point, either. Whereas, I was getting positively fidgety, with a side order of horny. I pulled my legs under me and began to fiddle with the top of my trousers ... little tugs that pulled the crotch-seam against my clit.
Obviously, this wasn’t a social visit, but Max was willing to wait Adele out. He just asked me another blandly polite question: “Where you from?”
“Texas, actually.” Lubbock, to be exact. That was an easy one – the factory’s address was on the front of my manual. “But I’ve spent quite a bit of time out here.” Before manufacture, that is – not since.
“Still follow those Cowboys, though, huh?”
I was, like, cowboys? What the … ? Oh. “Not so much. Daddy … uh, my Dad is into basketball. So now I follow the Lakers. Like Richard.” Nice save.
“Me, too,” he said. “Your daddy teach you to ride, too?”
Damn straight, I thought. Just had another ride this morning …
Adele spoke up, when she saw that I had lapsed into a sort of carnal reverie. “I think Uncle Max is talking about your jodhpurs, Lacy. I told you that people would think you played polo, it you wore those things.”
Actually, when she’d looked for something for me to wear for this visit, she’d told me they were the least provocative pants in my closet (and that all my skirts bordered on obscene). She’d also said that she hoped to get me to fuck the daylights out of her while I was wearing them, as soon as possible.
“Um, yeah. What she said. No horses for me …” I had started to blush, and tried to change the subject. “Greta – can you swim?” I really did want to know, but it was a dumb question. If droids can stand up to their shower cycle, they’re unlikely to short out in a pool. It was an even stupider question to ask a girl wearing a bathing suit, which was all that Greta was supposed to be.
She ignored that, and said,”Yes. Can you?”
“Yeah. I think so.” As in, I think I still can, but it came out sounding even dopier than my previous gem. I shrugged and giggled, not sure whether I was just nervous, or if I my dial really had been set to ‘bimbo’.
Adele rolled her eyes, and said, “I had to tell Lacy all about Greta.”
Max lifted one eyebrow back at her. For a moment, he reminded me of Daddy. “Did you, now?” He looked at us expectantly.
“The thing is,” Adele began, “she has this problem. There was sorta an accident, over at the Wards. Tracie was using a virtual reality rig … “– playing with that sort of expensive toy was relatively common, hereabouts – “And got stuck.” That, of course, wasn’t. “She’s stuck inside Lacy.”
She got a long stare in response, and then Max looked at me and said, “Pull the other one.”
Adele smirked. “Tracie – go get Greta’s attachment 6-B from her room.”
Max’s face told me that attachments of any sort were news to him. I just got up and headed down the hall. Chairs all have a homing beacon – which Adele must have known. I was soon back with the same sort of double-ender I’d used on her the previous night.
“Thanks, Tracie. Now deep-throat it.”
I gave her a look – this is your plan? But I proceeded to swallow a quantity of the limp thing, until I felt it stop up in roughly the same place inside me as it had before, at which time it had been coming up from the other direction. And once again, connections were made. I’d already gotten the hang of it, so it was easy to simply think what I wanted, and then watch the half still hanging out of my mouth stiffen and rise – and stretch my lips even wider in the process.
Meanwhile Max goggled … and Greta smiled.
My mechanical cousin was already on her feet, just waiting for her master’s permission. Max gave the faintest of bemused nods, and she started pulling off her swimsuit. She was definitely as horny as me. So of course I got shed of my own clothes. Hot damn!
It took me a full minute, since I had to peel my pants off my newly enlarged bum while trying to see what I was doing around the knobbly copy-cock protruding from my mouth. I was still hopping on one foot when Greta started sucking the other end of the thing down her own throat. We finished up standing in a major lip-lock, and I could feel her linking to it – to me. It was a rush – I could feel the entire surface of that throbbing mass inside us, plus I was suddenly awash with all the new sensations I was receiving from her body.
Did I mention I’d been a bit of a klutz back when I was human? Between the double-deep-throat induced orgasm and the trousers caught on my left foot, I totally lost my balance, and toppled sideways into the waiting pool. Needless to say, I took Greta along for the ride … or, rather, for the dunking. We settled to the bottom, our limbs writhing together, and proceeded to come twice more. Each. Talk about your mutual orgasm.
It was afterward that Greta’s eyes flew open. At least one
of ‘em, anyhow - our noses were offset, so her left eye was staring at my
right. Her thoughts were not human, exactly, but I could read them even more
clearly than the muffled input from Lacy: What
are you?
Even as I picked up her question – and her alarm – I found I could shop through her memories and presets … and even those of her alternate personality. Whereas, I was pretty sure she wasn’t able to read me. Maybe she could tap into Lacy, but not me. Hell, even I couldn’t read me. It turned out I could use our phallic link to talk to her, though. Which I did, to answer truthfully enough: Don’t worry - I’m just Tracie, like Adele said.
It was time to check in with the surface world. I jabbed my finger through my belly button and, sure enough, the same release catch worked for bottom and top - the connections to my end of the wang thingie let go. It stayed hard, though, with Greta now keeping it up; but I was able to back-paddle myself off (about which, yummm!) and pop up to the surface. “Come on in, Adele, the water’s fine!”
Adele blushed and glanced over at Max. I’d sort of forgotten the pool was full of naked girls – well, okay, a pair of horny droids. Swimming with us was maybe not something she was ready to do in front of her uncle.
Uncle Max, on the other hand, was still focused on Adele’s story. He remained unconvinced. “So Lacy is a bot. And it looks like Richard got a new improved model – why the goofy swap story?”
Just then, Greta spread my thighs and drove her mouth-mounted toy home into my ever-ready pussy. I gasped from the surprise of it – although I no longer had any need for a lungful of air – and then, seeing as I couldn’t tread water anymore, I sank back into the pool. Yes! Wait, no – I want to hear what they’re saying …
I could feel myself re-connecting to Greta’s attachment – and found I could do the mind meld thing again, once I had. This time, I was mostly picking up honest android lust. I could have told her to take five, but I didn’t really want her to stop – it felt too damn good. And anyway, I found I could still hear Adele and Max up on the surface, even if their voices sounded echo-ish:
“Max – I know you bought the best droid in the catalogue. The original Lacy was the exact same model – a PD1600. And it wasn’t a swap – Tracie’s personality, her memories, everything - she’s all in there.” - I could see Adele’s wobbly-looking arm waving down at me from the edge of the pool – “It’s not a joke! The rest of her, the flesh and blood Tracie, is … DEAD!” She sounded pretty mad.
By then Greta and me had our respective lips mashed together, hiding the wang-toy that linked us - on top of which, she was forcing her long tongue into my pussy alongside the thing. We were floating near the bottom, and I was still thrashing a little, so we were doing slow summersaults. But now, even as we were getting off on each other, we were both trying to follow the argument up on dry land:
“… I’m really sorry to hear about Tracie. But what you’re suggesting…”
“Trust me. I know it sounds impossible, but it happened. She knows stuff … everything Tracie knew.”
“But …”
As much as I was enjoying Greta’s attentions, I decided to wade into the argument topside. Well, soon-ish, anyway. I logged a few more minutes of bliss, before finally telling Greta to take a break. She obeyed immediately, which was interesting. While she settled back to the bottom, presumably to sulk, I kicked back to the surface. Adele was still glaring at Max, who just looked stubborn.
I launched out of the water and hoisted myself onto the side of the pool ... with one hand. Damn, I thought. I really am strong.
“Hey Max,” I said. “You’ll agree now that I’m a droid, yeah?”
“Yeah …”
“So – you must think that Daddy had me made to look a little like Tracie, and had me programmed to know all about her. Am I right?”
Max glanced at Adele, and then nodded.
“But you’re prepared to accept that Tracie has come to a bad end? And that Adele believes I’m now her? Tracie, that is.”
“Looks like, yeah.”
“So why not cut her some slack? Give her a chance to convince you – for now. After all, you love her.”
Max had the good grace to redden at this. “What makes you think … I mean she’s my niece, of course I love … but …”
“I don’t think, I know. Don't worry - I'm not gonna tell you this is Tracie's intuition. It's just a droid thing.”
By this time, Greta was climbing up the ladder on the opposite side of the pool, with one end of the wang-toy trailing limply over her shoulder. When she reached the top she turned to wring the water from her long blonde hair. The other end of the toy nestled between her boobies – she’d disconnected the toy from her throat after all. Apparently, it was just me that needed to read my manual.
“Greta,” I said. “Activate … drum roll here, please … Adele!”
Greta blinked, and then said, “Hey, Uncle Max!” Then she noticed Adele and me. “Oh.” She looked slightly confused ... and she sounded exactly like Adele. She cocked her head in a very Adele-like manner, and cased out our bodies much as Max had when he’d met me-as-Lacy. “Hi there.” She clearly had no idea who we were. She must have seen what I was, though – after all, Greta had.
“I’m Tracie,” I told her – while glancing defiantly at Max – “and this is Adele. THE Adele.”
The Adele-bot looked even more baffled … and hurt. Geez - her synthetic lower lip was trembling. Whereas, Max and Adele looked flat-out stunned, like maybe two Adeles couldn’t even exist at the same time and place, and they expected somebody to vaporize.
And suddenly I realized I had it all wrong (like that had never happened before).
In the first place, when I’d glimpsed Greta’s alternate personality, down in the pool, I’d assumed that ‘Adele-Two’ was awake and following all the action – even if she was stuck in the back seat to go along for the ride, just like I’d been when I first wore the head ring. But she must have been shut down cold. The poor thing must have been snuggling alongside Max and then – BAM! The next instant, she’d found herself standing bare-assed in front of strangers.
Worse, she wasn’t just impersonating Adele - she’d been programmed to think she was Max’s lover-niece.
So now here was this rude android bitch introducing someone else as the ‘real’ Adele. No wonder she was upset. Well, I was the one who’d dropped the house on my sister droid – so it was up to me to try and fix things.
"I'm so sorry, Adele," I said to Adele Two, "that was a shitty thing for me to say. I'll make it up to you, if you let me. Just let me summarize some stuff for my friends, here." I turned to Max first. "Max - that Adele over there - the little dark-haired one - has been using a virtual reality link to Greta’s body, so she could experience fucking you. She liked it so much that she talked me into trying it with Lacy – but that went south and now here I am. Oh, and yesterday she put what she learned from you into practice, and fucked like a bunny with both Daddy and me."
I gave him a moment for that news to sink in, and then turned to his niece. “Adele - your Uncle wants you so bad that he bought himself a sex-bot that could secretly simulate you. He was thinking of you when he fucked her. So - work it out.”
By then the two of them had ramped up to bugeyed-stunned. I reached over and lifted the combination fuck-toy slash mind-meld-link which was still lying forgotten on Adele Two’s shoulder. “Me and this Adele, here, are gonna do some bonding. And Max - you’ll want to decide whether you want her to be her own person – Estelle, say...” This recommendation was delivered with a hard stare. “Or whether you want to confuse us all by fucking your niece Adele, as well as your other niece Adele. In which case, this one will want to perfect that funny little snorking noise that Adele makes just before she comes, by listening to the real thing.”
Adele – the original one – finally came back to earth. “I do not snort!”
“Snork – and of course you don’t,” I said, grinning. “If you say so.”
I’d hurt her feelings, all right – but she still didn’t get it. I wasn’t entirely sure I did, either, but I had a plan. Well, not a plan, as such – more a course of action. I figured she may not know who she was, but she’d still know what she liked. So did I - the novelty of my zero-gravity fuck in the pool definitely hadn’t worn off. Greta had taken to it like a duck to water, so it seemed a sure bet Estelle would enjoy it too.
When I’d taken the double-ended robo-wang from her shoulder, she’d given it a look as if to say: How did that get there? But I noticed she’d also perked up a little bit at the sight of it. So I plugged it into my pussy with a flourish and advanced on her. Only, when I’d finished connecting it up inside myself and done my hydraulic thing to hoist it erect, she gasped and backed away. Which was odd ... and also ill advised, assuming she wasn’t actually planning to fall backwards into the pool. When she surfaced, she began to dogpaddle, only barely keeping her head above the surface.
“You … you’re a droid,” she sputtered, all wide-eyed.
O…kay. This was getting more and more complicated. But it followed that if she thought she was Adele (albeit a six-foot Valkyrie version), well then, she’d also suppose she was a Real Live Girl.
Now what? She’d soon find out she wasn’t human, if she sank … what with the not drowning and all. But letting that happen seemed a little harsh, seeing she was already on the edge of panic. So, I jumped in and pulled her to the side of the pool. She clung desperately to my neck, and my temporary cock was pinned between us. If I slipped that to her, her mechanical insides would automatically link up to the other end - which would probably also strike her as unusual. And disturbing. Reluctantly I refrained, and instead hauled her up onto dry land, where she lay gasping.
While she settled down, I disengaged the wang from my pussy-dock. As I savoured the weird sensation of my inner probe slithering out of its deeply lodged knob, I wondered just what she thought normal was. After all, my reality was now four-hour blocks of time stitched together more-or-less seamlessly. I was willing to bet that Max only ever ‘selected’ her personality in his bedroom – or in his bed – and then, after a wild piece of Adele-tail, he would switch her back for Greta. So life, to her, was probably one fucking long night – or, rather, one long night fucking.
“See? It’s gone,” I said, pointing to my pussy. She may have had identity issues, but I was right about one thing - she was just as keen as I was for a romp. At least, she was once I’d removed the visible reminder that I was a machine. And either Max had guessed that his niece secretly fancied girls as well as boys, or a certain amount of gender flexibility came built-in, ‘cause in no time at all, we were both on the deck grinding together various naughty bits.
After a variety of positions involving the groping and nibbling of simulated flesh, we took a seventh inning stretch. She sprawled out with her head on my lap and, while I braided her long hair, she started trying to piece together what I’d said to her. “Didn’t you say you were called Tracie?” she asked. “Actually, you look a bit like my friend Tracie – God, I should call her. Only I’ve been in bed with Uncle Max for, like, three weeks straight now.” – Bingo! - “And I don’t know how to tell her.”
“I’m sure she’d understand,” I said.
“About Max – probably. But she doesn’t know I have the hots for her. And who is that other girl Adele? The one you said was another one of Max’s nieces. I’ve never heard of her. Wait! You said she just fucked your dad, but you’re a … Oh my God! You were built to be, like, an older imitation of Tracie! And you probably thought you were her. I’m so sorry you had to find out like this!”
This was getting seriously fucked up. “Let me explain,” I said. “No. Let me suck your pussy some more.” I shifted her on top of me - a nice sixty-nine should buy some time while I thought up some way to tell she had things more or less backward.
Before I’d come up with anything, Max walked into my narrow line of sight, appearing upside down beyond Estelle’s bum. It was clear he and Adele had come to an understanding – she had passed out again, the little minx, and was presently slumped against his chest, still impaled on his drug-hardened cock.
He gave me a wink – it turned out he had an even better way than I did of putting off awkward explanations. “Adele, lover,” he said to the bot. “Activate Greta.”
The gentle lapping in my groin stopped momentarily, and then started up again at the double. I gasped, but there was still a bit of fresh information rattling around in my head. “She has the hots for me?”
Max shrugged. “Adele’s diary,” he said. Then, to the droid probing my depths with her tongue, he added, “Greta, honey, it’s nearly bedtime. You too, Trace. Time to hustle on home.” He switched the hand helping support the original Adele’s pretty butt so as to look at his Rolex. “I’d better give you a lift.”
Shit! I had a built in clock-alarm, and I’d still lost track of time. I had to recharge PDQ.
While Max pried his still groggy niece off his dick, I climbed out from under Greta. Once she and I had disengaged, she wandered off to her bedroom, seemingly unconcerned by the spectacle her master presented. He gently lowered the naked girl, who was now leaking a drizzle of cum, onto a lounge chair, where she curled up like a kitten and began to snore. Meanwhile I found a beach jacket of Greta’s to wear home. I looked for some clothes for Max, too, but there was nothing around except the ratty bathrobe he’d worn right up until he’d worked things out with Adele.
It would have to do. Max kissed Adele’s forehead, and then put on the robe, while I danced in a panicked circle around him. He took the hint, and drove me home in his Jaguar convertible as fast as the twisty valley road would let him. Luckily for both of us, there weren’t any cops around. Even the local security dudes would have been a nuisance – plus by the time Max appeased them (assuming he had any cash in the glove box) I would have gone down for the count. Explaining that would have been the least of my problems.
As it was, we’d barely stopped rolling before I jumped out of the Jag and sprinted straight through the front door to my house. When I got upstairs, I discovered Daddy busy fixing up the bedroom next to his, which had been mine back when I was little - guess who else had lost all track of time? He’d lugged in my chair (Whoopee! No more closet for me!) and parked it in the middle of the wall opposite the door. Just in the nick, I skootched my butt onto the protruding probe. As I squirmed to get comfortable, Daddy leaned close and gave me a big kiss …
*
and then suddenly Adele’s lips were on mine, instead of his.
“Ack! Sorry, no, that was nice – really! But I thought you said I creeped you out when I was turned off?”
“Too true! The least you could do is close your eyes.” She grinned and held up her watch. “But I didn’t have to wait long. You’re pretty punctual.” She gave me another, better kiss, while my power-probe slithered back out of my ass; and then she stepped back and swept an arm around. “Check it out.”
While I was ‘out’, she and Daddy had brought in Lacy’s clothes – there were racks and drawers all along one wall. Plus they’d brought up all my stuff from the basement bedroom – books and music and posters and miscellaneous junk – and put it out more or less the way it was. Which was nice – like a little bit of me was back.
“Richard boxed up most of your old clothes for me – there wasn’t much there that would still fit ya, ‘cept a few scarves. I hope you don’t mind.”
As if. “No, no. Thanks for bringing up my stuff, Adele!”
“You’re welcome,” she said, and then batted my hand off her thigh. “No time for that right now. Richard’s gonna take us to the mall, like I said way back at dawn or so.”
>< >< ><
The trip to the mall took a bit more organizing that I’d expected. The plan was that once we’d got to town, Daddy would get me some new clothes. But in the meantime, like Adele had said, none of my old things fit my new shape, and Lacy’s stuff was mostly too slutty to wear in public … excepting her dumpy looking housekeeper shifts, which I didn’t want to be seen in. In the end Adele managed to find a satin wrap that could be adjusted so that it covered my naughty bits. At least mostly – she made me wear a thong under, so I could walk around without being arrested. Oh, and I put on a black velvet choker, to tease Daddy, so in the end I still looked pretty trampy.
So off we went, to the super-mall down the valley, where we weren’t likely to run into anyone we knew – not that anyone knew the new, improved me. Even so, Adele pointed out that she and Daddy had better call me Lacy, just in case. That seriously unnerved me, seeing as how Lacy’s personality was still lurking inside me. (Although at least she probably wasn’t awake and watching … or so I thought.) In any case, publicly answering to ‘Lacy’ had been pretty much an order, so I just had to suck it up.
It cheered me up some when, just before we left, Daddy gave me a ring to wear. The plan was we would go as a family … after a fashion: a well-to-do businessman, his trophy wife (yours truly), and her pretty stepdaughter. Later, on the way into the mall, it occurred to me that in a few years Adele would be old enough for her and I to change roles – which was kinda weird.
And then we were through the glitzy big doors, and it was all great. It was definitely a new experience to have everybody notice me, and to see most of them, women included, light up with a look that said that they were gonna have to get themselves laid, and soon. For sure, none of them seemed to notice that I was mechanical. We just strolled for a while – Daddy and Adele were enjoying the attention, as well.
Then Daddy left us at the Versace shop, with instructions to get something a little less riot-inducing for me to wear for mall-walking in. Plus maybe some evening wear for both of us, although we both knew where we’d mostly be spending our evenings. He was just looking forward to unwrapping us.
We strolled though racks of designer dresses, drooling, until the shop girl marched over and said, "Careful, girls - don't touch anything. These are one-offs, and very expensive. We don't want to have them soiled."
Well, I suppose on reflection that Adele and I looked like a cheap whore and her little sister, but that was still no excuse for the clerk's snotty rudeness. Adele was so steamed she didn't even have a snappy comeback. She just said, "Come on, Lacy, I'm sure our money is good elsewhere." With that she walked out tall (or at least, as tall as her four-foot-six was able to deliver). As soon as I remembered I was 'Lacy' in public, I followed.
Elsewhere turned out to be the Prada shop just around a corner and three doors down. I left Daddy’s charge card at the counter, as our ticket in, after which they were so accommodating that they chose not to notice us tongue wrestling in the change booth. I got three outfits – all simple and classy and super expensive. Plus Adele found a skirt she liked, and we each got ourselves Little Black Dresses that cost their weight in gold. No, more – they were silky and skimpy … not much mass there to tip the scales with.
I wore one of my daytime outfits out the door, and had them deliver my old wrap home with the rest – waste not, want not. After that, we went on to the shoe shops. As in shoes, not runners like I used to wear. It was lucky Lacy’s body had had practice in heels, ‘cause the chrome robo-clerk sent me out with vintage ‘Jimmy Choo’ stilettos that lifted me four and a half inches. Next, we accessorized – with scarves and purses and stuff, I mean. Probably, there was an adult toyshop where we could get the rude kind, but there were still some attachments in my drawer we hadn’t tried out yet.
Anyhow, we were thoroughly pleased with ourselves by the time we left the last store. We still had twenty minutes left before we met up with Daddy by the central fountain. We were considering what to do next when we spotted this gorgeous guy go by. He saw us, too – he did a double take and then walked straight into a hanging flower basket.
Adele nudged me and whispered, “How would you like to fuck that?”
She’d said much the same thing to me not a month before, about some other cute guy, back when I was human - and I’d just laughed. Now, it sounded near enough like an order for me to say, “Yes,” and then walk over to where the poor guy was presently kneeling, rubbing his head. As I approached, I wondered how I would lead him to it.
I heard Adele make some faint, non-committal noises, that may have been meant to constitute a recall order (I could now hear a mosquito fart at fifty feet); but they were too vague to count, so I ignored her. Which had nothing to do with the fact that the guy looked like he had stepped out of a fireman’s calendar – no sir-ee. When I got to him, there were already a few other people standing there, making concerned comments. I crouched alongside him, simultaneously whipping off my thong panties so smoothly that only he and Adele noticed. And then I used the damp bit of cloth to soothe the bruise on his forehead.
“Are you alright?”
Apparently, the engineers who designed and built me provided me with a double dose of sex pheromone, because he didn’t look soothed at all. He was a bit wild eyed, actually.
“I should have a closer look at this - over there, where the light is better,” I suggested, all nurse-efficient, like I knew what I was doing. As it happened, ‘over there’ was an emergency exit stairwell, and it was a good deal darker than where we were. Regardless, he followed me in. Once the door closed behind us, I stretched up to give the boo-boo on his head a kiss better. Then I knelt down, pulled down the zipper of his pants, and extracted his cock. There was a moment of mutual confusion - on his part, because he probably hadn’t expected me to be quite so forward, while, as for me, because by chance I had never previously encountered an uncircumcised wang. However, I soon discovered it to be as tasty as the other kind, and had it installed deep down my throat.
I was sucking away merrily, when I caught a glimpse of Adele coming in the door. My newest friend must have had his eyes closed, ‘cause he didn’t seem to notice her. (He’d also missed the old lady who’d come through just before, searching for a washroom).
“Hi there,” said Adele, brightly.
That caused him to jerk, which delivered another two inches and would have choked me for certain, if I’d happened to need to breathe (the lack of which he’d also failed to notice).
She giggled, and then said, “Stand up, sweetie.” After a pause she added, with a sigh, “You’ll have to spit him out, first.”
Once unencumbered, I stood, and his eyes were for sure open then, super wide. His glistening cock bobbed desperately in the breeze.
“My friend gets carried away sometimes, and forgets she has to negotiate before she blows a guy. So you can consider that a freebie – or you can finish her, any hole you like, for a one-time discount. Say, three hundred bucks?”
I lifted up my skirt, encouragingly, and he positively whimpered – well, you’ll recall I’d already got shed of my panties. He nodded, gasping, “Yes, please,” and then he tossed Adele his wallet with a sort of ‘help yourself’ motion. After which, he spun me around, backed me up against the nearest wall, and lifted me onto his impatiently waiting cock. Once he was inside me, I wrapped my heels around his back and hung on tight.
He had pretty good stamina for a guy who didn’t have the chemical enhancement of Daddy or Max. He held out for quite a while, but I rode him out in the end. More or less literally, actually, since he finished up on his back on the dirty floor (instead of me - I knew he was a gentleman), while I straddled him and whooped. When he came, it was a great shuddering, lurching finale, which I joined in with, clamping my pussy so tightly onto his cock that each pulse of his cum was cut off in mid-spurt. It took him twice as long to drain his balls as it would have, and, at the end of it all, he was pretty much knackered. When his lovely cock softened, I leaned forward gently and let it slide out of me, while I gave his noggin a final kiss better.
Then I stood and straightened out my new dress (and used his hankie as a mop), while Adele leaned over him and said, “Tell your friends to keep an eye open for us – we come here pretty often. Hee, hee.” With that, she gave him a lewd wink, tucked his lightened wallet into his shirt pocket, and led me out of the stairwell.
Once we were well away, I had to ask, “What was that about?”
“I didn’t mean for you to actually do that – fuck him. But then I thought why shouldn’t we show some initiative and start earning our own pocket money?”
I couldn’t help but notice that, so far, it had been me doing all the work ... and I hadn't seen any of the money. But it was work I’d come to love – what I was made for. Still, I hoped I’d continue to get to pick my clients.
We were just in time to meet Daddy. After an hour in the
place, he’d so far bought a book and a coffee. He told us how nice our new
dresses looked (duh!), and in exchange we told him zilch about our adventure.
What was interesting was that I felt no compulsion to confess – although if
he’d asked the right question, I would’ve had to blurt out every detail. So, I thought. Droids can have secrets.
The three of us strolled together for a while, just hanging, which Daddy tolerated quite well (he always says that if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen the Mall … which wasn’t even funny the first time) - as opposed to Max, who’d refused to come. According to Adele, her Uncle had used the over-the-top claim that Malls were, at best, anterooms to Hell. Anyhow, now that my shopping lust had been sated, I found myself taking more notice of the droids in the place than I ever had before. Within a short walk I’d seen three, all working in shops and stalls – they were those base-model ones that look like animated dress shop mannequins, all stiff and plastic. Plus there was an antique metal one, working in a chic dress shop – they had some kind of retro theme going on.
I said something to Adele, and she pointed out that it costs about a hundred times as much to make a droid look truly human – so the only ones that do are sex droids. Even then, they (meaning me) are super rare, ‘cause a rich guy can usually attract as many real girls as he likes. Or pay for them, although Adele said she’d heard that some of the fancier uptown brothels had droids as a novelty. No one would need such an over-the-top machine (“No offence,” she said) just to work as a shopkeeper – or a housekeeper.
Maybe my sort wasn’t so rare in this town, though. Not long after, I sensed a fellow sex droid strolling past with her boyfriend/master. She was pretty hot, but not over the top – Adele and Daddy showed no sign they’d guessed. The bot spotted me, too, and gave me a wink that was way too fast for a human to see. Without even thinking, I winked back, and then they were gone.
I was still pondering that when I saw yet another droid –
and she was alone. She looked even
less like a sex toy, with a sort of tomboy/girl-next-door thing going on. Mind
you, we’re all custom-built, and client tastes vary, so that didn’t signify -
but it did make it easier for her to blend. She pretended to ignore me, so no
wink for her – but she must have known I’d recognized her. Hmmm.
“Oh! I forgot. You’ll need another black dress, sombre, not too showy,” said Adele, breaking into my thoughts.
“Why?”
“Don’t you want to go to your funeral?”
“Ewww!”
“Hey – if me and Richard have to go, so do you. As Lacy, of course. Anyway, nobody will say anything mean about you.”
Are you kidding? You bet they will, if I go as Daddy’s brand new girlfriend. And Auntie Christie would take Daddy apart, first.” I sketched a little bow, as the girlfriend in question.
“I expect I can handle her,” said Daddy, entering our conversation for the first time in about a mile. “Since I married Tracie’s mom, we’ve only see Christie the odd Christmas and Thanksgiving,” he explained to Adele. “She and I used to be … close. But just maybe she’d come round if we were to welcome her to our new family.”
Close? How close? That was news to me. The plot was definitely thickening.
*
When I switched back on, it was late Sunday night, and Daddy was too tired for more than a half-hour quickie on the kitchen table. He was a little gloomy, too. Well, fair enough, he’d only just found my corpse the day before. And it (or I, if you prefer) was literally stiff - he’d managed to mislay me for over a day, which must have been somewhat embarrassing. Plus, tomorrow he had to make arrangements for my funeral. Both of us were still trying to wrap our heads around that idea. We snuggled until nearly midnight, and then Daddy fell asleep.
Lying cozy beside him for a while, I wondered about Adele Two. She was programmed to believe she was the real deal. Was I, too? Programmed that way, I mean. I knew I was currently a machine - unlike Adele Two who, despite my broad hints, still considered it normal for some girls to have servo-motor components and batteries. But I also thought I’d previously been Tracie. Was that just my software talking?
The idea creeped me out. I slipped out of Daddy’s bed and wandered around the house for a while. Everything – everything – looked more than just familiar. Most of it had some sort of story attached: when it was bought, or who had given it, or how it had acquired that deep scratch (the one on the piano was me, when I’d lost control on my roller blades). Point for my side, but unfortunately it didn’t prove squat.
Then I thought of another clue that I might really be Tracie … or what was left of her. Which was this: I resented being told to fuck that guy at the mall (which, to be fair, Adele hadn’t done on purpose). Not to say I didn’t enjoy it, but he wasn’t family. I don’t mean, like, blood-relations family – although obviously I’d discovered I no longer had objections about that. It was just that humping some complete stranger didn’t seem right, somehow.
Come to think about it, the whole obeying-every-order thing sucked. But maybe resentment could be programmed in, too. Why not? It couldn’t be any harder than bogus memories.
What I finally decided was, fuck this existential shit. Like it or not, I pretty much had to go with the flow. I certainly felt like Tracie – so maybe it didn’t really matter. Especially since, unlike the Adele-bot, I had no competition from the original.
On that note, I went to the breakfast room and replayed a recorded session from my back-up drive: an afternoon with schoolgirl-Lacy that I hadn’t experienced yet (or at least my Tracie-self hadn’t). The big finish turned out to feature me with my little skirt up and Daddy ass-fucking me over the open windowsill. Meanwhile we both watched Mrs. Ellis’s hot gardener trimming the hedge between our yards, all unsuspecting. “Give him a wave,” Daddy said, and I did, wide-eyed as I came ... and then it was dark outside, and I lay naked with my belly on the windowsill, waving into the night breeze.
That revived me considerably. I went back upstairs and sprawled out in the middle of a pile of pillows on my own bed, where I preceded to idly fiddle with my clit as I browsed some more of my owner's manual. There was an appendix listing my toys, but sadly no pictures of said items in service. After that disappointment, I flipped back through a few pages of densely worded bumf, until I came across the following:
*
Verification of location and time: In the default mode, the inertial navigation,
GPS and clock functions for your PD1600 are active. However, particularly for
secondary personalities, it may be desirable to disable the device’s
higher-level access to these functions in order to prevent temporal or
locational misalignment malfunctions.
After re-reading this mumbo-jumbo three times, I realized
why the Adele-bot didn’t know what day it was – she’d been set that way.
* Nevertheless, the internal telemetry system
used for remote monitoring and tracking will remain active.
Say what now?
*
Warning:
Do not override these core systems, as tracking and retrieval of malfunctioning
units will be impaired.
Tracking and retrieval? The notion of having to deal with some sort of Acme Robotics corporate blade runner, one day, did nothing to cheer me up. Neither did trying to call Adele on the ‘mind-line’ com-link. I knew she wasn’t wearing the gizmo, but she kept it in her bedroom, which is where I expected her to be - given that by this time of the night she should probably have finished whatever fuck-a-thon she’d been engaged in. But, nada. Not even a dial tone. I had to face the fact that it was a one-way deal – a sort of ‘I’ll call you, don’t call me’ set up.
About then I finally had that now familiar ‘run down’ feeling and went over to sit on my chair. There was a tiny ‘snick’ sound as a hatch opened, and then the power probe was snaking up my ass. I felt that cool little buzz and then …
*
without further ado, it was early Monday morning.
All refreshed, I padded downstairs, where I found a frilly little apron and made Daddy a big breakfast – sausages, bacon and eggs, the works. Turned out he was still too depressed to eat much, but I had another idea how to fix that. I dragged him out into the sunshine and over to the swing he’d made for me in the backyard. The thing had a comfy big saddle-leather seat that was hung by fifteen-foot silky ropes from a big old maple tree branch. After I gave him a cheer-up smooch, I lay down belly-first on it and spread my legs, just at his groin height. Subtle, huh? Daddy took the hint and set to work – he in his jammies and me in my fluttery little apron.
It wasn’t quite as kinky as it sounds – you could only see us from Mrs. Ellis’s kitchen, next door, and she never gets up this early. Oh, and from out on the road, I suppose, if you were out walking your dog or something. After a while I twisted so as to take hold of the rope and, with a fancy scissors move, I managed to spin around so I was face up, still impaled on Daddy’s dick. He grinned and tilted me up towards him, then he turned around to sit on the swing seat with me in his lap. Once we were settled in, he began to pump - his legs, I mean. It took a bit of cooperation to get some height happening, but soon we were soaring, and every time we peaked, I’d keep on going – just far enough that I’d slide half way off his pole before we both arced back down again. Needless to say, at the bottom of our swoop across the lawn his cock was driven deep back inside me. Whee!
So, okay, maybe it was a bit kinky. Anyway, after some loud whooping we let the swing come to a stop, with us leaning against each other and giggling. After a few minutes, though, Daddy was starting to look all sad again. It occurred to me that he had to leave soon for the funeral parlour, so I said, “How about a simple service? Like maybe one of them horse-drawn hearses, some hired mourners, and a jazz band?”
“For one thing, you hate jazz. And for another, New Orleans is presently underneath ten feet of water - again. This is L.A. Why not a vintage Caddy hearse with a Wurlitzer on a flatbed to follow it?”
I licked the tip of his nose. "Could work. I suppose a Viking funeral is out, too, with the cool flaming boat and stuff? Huh. Oh, well. I’ll put up with the basic version, but I want something like ’She’ll Be With Us Always’ on a fancy tombstone.”
“Done. But maybe we’ll spell it ‘All Ways’.”
Well, topic notwithstanding, Daddy had cheered right back up to full staff inside me. So, hands under my bum, he stood up and marched me over toward the gazebo, while singing ‘I’m a Lumberjack and I’m Okay’ at the top of his lungs. Which is when I finally got a call from Adele on the com-link thingy in my head.
“Wacha doin’?”
“Kinda busy right now …” I tried not to move my lips as I answered.
“He’s fuckin’ you,
isn’t he? Who’s on top?”
I looked over Daddy’s shoulder and saw a face in the window next door. It was Maria - Mrs. Ellis’s pretty little housekeeper. I gave her a fluttery little wave, like Lacy'd given the gardener, and wondered if the two of them were an item. Maria and the gardener, that is, although maybe Mrs. Ellis ...
"You still there,
babe?"
Oh yeah, Adele. I answered her, my train of thought lurching
along its slightly twisted rails with each thrust. “Uh … neither one of us ... is on top ... He’s walking … around the
yard … with me bouncing … on his cock.”
Daddy strode on, matching the rhythm of his march with his silly song. “Now we’re headed … right through … the koi pond … oh … Maria just ... waved back …” The strings holding on what had passed for our garments had let go way back by the swing, so we were gloriously naked.
“Who’s Maria?”
“’S okay … you’d like
her … here we go … around the roses … Oh! Oh! Oh!”
“What? What?”
“Daddy just stepped …
on a thorn … he’s hopping … on one foot …”
“God! I wish I could
see this!”
“Now Daddy’s … finally seen Maria too … He’s started singing to her … ‘Maria ... Maria ... I've just met a girl … called Maria’ …” Honestly, I love Daddy (obviously), but I don’t think the man knows any songs under a hundred years old. “Can you hear it?”
“It doesn’t work that
way, silly. What’s she doing?”
“Uh … she’s blowing us
kisses …”
“All right!”
“Cripes! … He’s
marching us … closer to her window … and now he’s singing … ‘How do you solve …
a problem … like Maria?’ … She looks like … she has some ideas … about that …”
“Cool! There’s the
bell – I’ll call you back in a while. Ciao.”
“You’re at school?” But she had already hung up – or disconnected, or whatever - and of course she was at school. It was going on for 0900 hours.
Out loud, I said, “You gotta go soon, Daddy.”
He smooched the top of my head, gave Maria a final chorus and then stumped his way back to our back door.
>< >< ><
Half an hour later, I’d already had a restorative shower, and was back in my bedroom.
“Hey!” said Adele, inside my head.
I jumped – as usual. “Geez – I thought you were in class.”
“I am – Mizz Ignatiez
is droning on about iambic pentameter … I think.” There was a pause –
apparently she was looking to see if the coast was clear, since she didn’t
elaborate on the possible subject of the lecture. “I wanted to get hold of you before you shut down. I’m gonna go home
sick, after lunch - Max is gonna pick me up.” Another pause. “I’ll tell ‘em its 'girl problems'. Which is
nearly true. I’m kinda sore down there – Uncle Maxie fucked me nearly every
which way goin’, after Richard dropped me off yesterday. Then when Greta woke
up, she joined in, too.”
“That’s nice,” I said. Jealous, moi?
“I’m making you horny,
aren’t I? How many fingers ya got in there?”
“My arm, actually. Up
to my elbow. I’m really flexible, now.”
“Oh, sure. Be a bimbo
slut! Listen – it gets better. Max switched Greta over to be Adele, while we
were fucking by the pool. Like, she was sitting on his cock and I was sitting
on his mouth. I don't even know how she understood his command, he was so
muffled down there. Ooh! Muffled by my muff - get it? So anyway, Adele looks
around and asks where you went. For her it was like you just up and
disappeared. Well, plus now there was a cock up inside her instead of your
tongue, and it had got dark outside, too, but she didn’t seem to notice any of
that. Anyway, we fucked some more, the three of us. She just thinks I’m Max’s
other niece Adele, one she’d never heard about until now. Shit like that
actually happens, right? Turns out she’s pretty cool – we’ve got lots in
common.”
I was sure they did, seeing as the bot was programmed using Adele’s diary. However, it was the Direct Order this Adele had just given me that I mostly focused on: ‘Be a bimbo slut’. It had me groping even harder than before. I already thought about sex most of the time as it was. But, like I said, that was basically all in the family. Now Adele had stumbled onto one of my programmed-in behavior modifiers, and I had to deliver.
“I am a slut,” I confirmed, as I switched arms and sucked the juices off the used one.
“Damn straight. I
gotta go, but I’ll have Max drop me off there. You’ll see me in no time.”
She was gone again. After I’d rolled off the bed and around the floor a bit, humping my arm, I felt the old energy levels dipping. I climbed up onto my chair…
*
and then it was suddenly afternoon and Adele was sitting in front of me grinning.
“There you are!” I gasped, like Adele had performed a remarkably clever act of peek-a-boo. Then I giggled and said, “Want me to lick yer honey pot?” Shit. Did I really say that out loud?
“Sure, babe – hop on over to the bed.”
“Ya betcha, Mistress … uh … just as soon as …” I shivered as the fat probe sucked back out of my ass. “Whoa, yeah! Okay. Here I go …”
“Sorry, girl. Ya didn’t actually have to hop.”
“No problemo,” I said, as I spread my co-owner’s legs wide for action, and began to nibble under the tiny patch of red fuzz she considered a muff.
Adele had barely started to get her buzz on, when a horn honked outside. “That’s our cab – we’re goin’ back to the mall. Oh – and bring that toy of yours.”
“Um – which one? There’s Little Willie, Big Dick, Major Johnson, Waldo the Whale, the Turbo-Twaddler …”
I was just warming up to the subject when Adele interrupted. “The one you used on me the other night, dummy. The only one me and you’ve ever played with, so far.”
“Cool – Tyrannosaurus Flex, it is.” I fetched the thing from its drawer. The manual had mentioned that I could store one or two toys completely up (or down) inside me, but I figured that wasn’t what Adele had in mind, so I plugged the TF in properly. Then I pulled on a tube-top, and a skirt that barely hid my sausage-y accessory, and trotted off after my mistress.
She had already jumped in the back of the cab and closed the door, so I got in the front. The driver turned to me and gave me THE LOOK – the total eye-fuck I’d gotten yesterday in the mall from practically everybody. “Where to?”
“Uh …” I said, and grinned inanely. Wait – I know this one.
“West Side Mall,” ordered Adele.
We’d barely pulled out of the drive when I followed my slut-directive and dove headfirst on the driver’s lap. I quickly managed to get the guy’s cock in my hand, while he squawked and tried to keep control of the car on the twisty road.
“Christ, lady! Stop that!” And then he added a last appeal to reason: “What about your kid sister?”
I heard Adele’s voice from the back seat, slightly annoyed, saying, “Don’t worry about me ... Carl." I was hugely impressed that she knew his name (even though his licence was posted on the dash right beside me). "Just stop the meter for us, okay? And try to stay on the road.”
The late Tracey would have thought ‘this guy’s pretty buff’; as Lacy, it would have been more like, ‘I wonder what this guy’s love muscle tastes like’. But now I was Slut-Monkey Lacy. I engulfed the man’s cock in my mouth and thought, Hey! Carl's thingie is black. Which really, really shouldn’t have come as a surprise. When was the last time I ate a black one? Let’s see – oh, yeah! I was a total virgin last week, so probably, like, never. I giggled yet again, with his knob deep in the back of my throat. It must have added something to his experience – I could hear the tires squeal, and the rattle from a spurt of gravel, before he got the cab straightened out.
There followed a serious time lag before a few doubts - about life, the universe, and everything - flickered through my head. I couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything, apart from the task at hand (and, currently, in mouth).
Once, when I was in elementary school, my science teacher had gone round the twist and started trying to teach us quantum mechanics. After somebody’s mother took the assigned calculus homework to the principal, he was quietly transferred away for a rest. But my point is that for one hour a day, every day for three weeks, my mind felt like oatmeal – my thoughts were totally mushy. Now, everything had that effect.
I’d wondered earlier whether I’d know if anyone fucked with my settings. Now a simple order had given me a major makeover. Well, I knew about it, barely, but I sure didn’t care.
The cab driver lasted quite a while. I was impressed, until some analog for a neuron sparked in my head and I recalled something Adele once told me. To hold on to their load, she’d said, a boy often needed to think about something distracting and unpleasant to take them off the boil. Like, say, to picture that they were actually boinking Queen Camilla. So I bit him. Just a little – but really! Imagine him thinking about me like that!
Luckily for all three of us, he had in fact been thinking about steering more-or-less down the middle of the road. Whatever – that love-bite worked. He came in tasty buckets.
I was all for climbing into his lap, after that – the T. Flex attachment only occupied one hole, after all. But Adele spotted me getting ready for the pounce, and put a hand on my shoulder. “Easy, ‘Sis’. Let the nice man do his job, now.”
>< >< ><
After we’d been dropped off (Carl the Cabby had actually run around and opened our doors for us, much to the astonishment of nearby mall-goers), we sailed in though the big tinted doors. Adele turned back briefly – I think she gave the still stunned Carl a wave and a wink – then she caught up to me.
“What are you doing?”
I had collared a banker-type dude, whipping his cock out so fast (I mentioned that I could be pretty speedy if I wanted, right?) that I had it in a lip-lock before he could even thank me. We were behind the meagre cover of one of the foyer’s potted palms, but it was obvious to Adel what he was doing, so I couldn’t see why she’d bothered to ask him. I rolled my eyes up, in time to see the guy shrug feebly in response.
Adele raised her voice and said, “I’m talking to her!”
Oh. That’s me. I swivelled my head on the banker’s wang so that I could see her. “I-mmm thuckin’ ‘is ‘ock …” As I rocked back and forth on my knees, I was also rubbing the knob of my detachable cock across the deliciously cool floor tiles, but I summed that part up: “I-mmm a thluut … mithtreth.”
Adele had flushed to her roots, and a teeny light bulb went on in my head (metaphorically – although the real thing may well be an optional feature). Even in my bimbofied condition, it occurred to me that Adele was bringing me back to the mall because it seriously turned her on to see me doing rude things where there was a good chance of being caught in the act. So far, I was obviously turning her crank. Good Lacy.
“Be a dear and spit that out before somebody comes, will you?”
Whoever was about to come, it wasn’t fated to be the banker, because I obediently horked the poor man’s tool out of my throat. In consolation, I gave the thing a thank-you peck on its snout, before getting up to follow Adele through the inner doors to the mall.
“C’mon,” said Adele. “No more free blow jobs. Anyway, first I want to see you use that cock on that snooty shop girl – remember her? The one who wouldn’t take your dad’s credit card unless he came in to sign for us?”
So there we were, back at the mall, just me and Adele – and I wasn’t all there, if you know what I mean. I was still locked in ‘bimbo slut’ mode, having taken Adele’s command literally … even though I was reasonably sure she hadn’t meant it. Not at the time, anyhow, although by this point she really should have noticed something was up with me. Of course, ever since my accident I was basically a robo-vixen, so maybe my behaviour wasn’t as different as I thought.
Or, rather, tried to think. Mostly, my mind was focussed on trying to walk in spite of the input from my sensitive glans rubbing against the hem of my knee-length skirt (easily the longest skirt in my closet, which I’d worn to mostly hide the T-flex tool which I’d crammed into my pussy). It was left to Adele to steer me away from the mall benches so as not to give some elderly gentleman a heart attack – even my wildly swaying bum was putting them at risk, never mind a glimpse of my rude accessory.
So we marched on through the mall – left foot, right foot, avoid a hard-on, right … no, left foot … Whoa! My bimbo concentration was thrown off, because I’d sensed another droid close by. I looked around and spotted the same unaccompanied droid I’d noticed on our last mall trip. If you recall, I’d thought of her then as a sort of girl-next-door type - which maybe she was, if you happened to live in Jamaica next door to a modeling agency. The thing was, she wasn’t what you might have expected for a sex-droid. She was good looking, but in a competitive swimmer sort of way – she had short-cropped hair and a toned-muscle look going on. Her skin was a light mocha shade, with a convincingly lifelike glow. It crossed my sex-soaked mind that her absentee master was probably a mistress.
She was watching me, with almond-shaped green eyes. I got an odd, pitying look, and then she turned away. Judgemental or what? I thought. She was made in the same factory as me. Cute though (left foot, right foot …).
After a while, as I plodded along behind Adele, it penetrated through my personal fog of lust that my own mistress was serious - we actually were heading for the little Versace shop we’d been more-or-less tossed out of before. Anyone else would have settled for swanning in the door with the Prada dresses we’d only just dropped a mint for, right around the corner, but Adele seemed to be serious about my fucking her.
Which, in my opinion, was in no way a punishment. However, as soon as that thought sashayed through my head, my programming cut in to pre-warn me that I couldn’t play with the girl if she objected: I may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm. I must obey any orders given to me by human beings, except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.
“Fuck me! I know all that – ya sound like a machine. Which, okay, you are - but you know what I mean. Are you all right?”
Cripes – I didn’t even know I’d been talking out loud. Reciting out loud, more like. Adele had mentioned something about built-in droid laws, but I must have skipped past that part of the manual, too.
“All parameters normal.” My droid-voice startled me, and I threw in another giggle. “I mean, sure. I’m good.”
“You’re damn good, and I think Miss Snooty will think so, too. Let’s go see what happens.” Then she noticed I was starting to pull my sleeveless top off over my head. “Stop that. What’s got into you?”
“You told me to fuck you. And you like it best skin on skin …”
“Too true. Okay, sorry. Cancel that order … for now.” She glanced around and added, “So put the shirt back on and let’s go look in on our friend.”
As it turned out, the girl’s nametag said she was called Miss Mountshaft. Which should have made me laugh out loud, except that at the time I was too bimbofied to register anything but her sexy body. The place was empty, being one of a row of shops set way up on the top level of the mall so as to not-so-subtly underscore the lofty prices within.
“Hey, there,” announced Adele. “Remember us?”
Mountshaft paused a beat while she took in our fresh competitor-sourced fashions. Then, having smelled serious money, she purred, “Why yes. How may I help you?”
“In a while I’d like to try on one of those emerald skirts over there, but first my friend would like to help you.” Adele shut the front door behind us and flipped the little sign to ‘closed’.
I rolled my left boobie free of my tube-top, and wriggled my butt on over to the still baffled clerk. “I’m sorry,” I purred, “but you look like you got the sweetest little pussie. Can I have a taste? Pretty please?”
Either the synthetic sex pheromone I was exuding (at extra, Bimbo-sized dose levels) was designed to affect girls as much as guys, or maybe Mountshaft was already hot for it. With a slightly stunned look, she leaned back onto the sales counter and opened her legs.
Her skirt was mid-calf, but helpfully slit right up to her hip. I briefly thought I should buy me one like it, but that notion was quickly muscled out of the way, ‘cause there wasn’t room for it - owing to the fact I’d unwrapped her skirt and pulled her red thong aside, and was preparing to slide my tongue inside her. 'Single-minded' definitely described my status just then. In fact, to be honest, it was a bit of an overstatement.
If Mountshaft was aware I was exploring her tasty treasures unnaturally deeply, she made no sign. At least, her inarticulate whimpers didn’t specifically suggest she knew she was being eaten out by a droid. She must have known she was being eaten by a pro, if I do say it – I had her teetering right on the edge of a major come for the next fifteen minutes.
“Enough, already,” said Adele, finally. “Roll her over. Time to do her, doggy-style.”
Mountshaft, who had been grinding her pelvis into my face, said, “Oh yeah! Fuck me!” and obligingly pulled off her blouse. She had the slim, boyish look of a runway model, which meant she had no need for a bra. I heartily approved of the pert little titties she flashed as she rotated to flop face-first over the counter. Once there, she pulled her thong down with both hands, letting it drop to her ankles. She then slipped one foot free and spread her legs wide.
I would have sunk my T-flex mechano-meat into her then and there, but my ‘do no harm’ programming registered that the subject human had not actually seen my attachment when she’d given me the go ahead to fuck her. So, instead, I pulled her back by her hips, and rolled backwards myself. We finished up with me lying on the floor and her astride my chest with a fine view of said attachment.
Happily, the past quarter-hour at the verge of orgasm had cured any reluctance she might otherwise have shown. The fact that I’d somehow conjured an enormous erection didn’t seem to surprise her. Or slow her down - she immediately performed the manoeuvre for which her name suggested a genetic talent. “Oh! My! God!” was her response as she drove herself down, and I felt her pent-up pussy spasm voraciously on my sensitive tool. Still cumming, she began to bounce, taking more inside herself with each stroke.
After only about a dozen cycles, she slumped forward like a rag doll, and I was afraid I’d broken her in spite of my programming to the contrary.
“Wow,” said Adele.
“Jeepers! Is she okay?”
Adele circled around to check, and laughed; then she turned Mountshaft’s head sideways so I could see for myself. The shop girl was grinning, and drooling slightly. Plus her eyes were rolling around a bit. “She’ll be fine. Let’s get her into the back room, so she can come round in peace. We’ll check on her later – I still want to try on that skirt.”
I wrapped my arms around Mountshaft and stood up – she was still impaled, so most of her weight was supported by my shaft in her pussy. Given my robo-strength, I carried her easily, excepting that since she was a little taller than me, her feet dragged a bit on the way into the back of the shop.
“Mmm, yeah,” she gurgled as we lurched along. “Feels so good …” Since she was clearly ‘unharmed’, I decided to give her the whole treatment - a few rounds of faux-cum from my reservoir. When my tool throbbed and realistically pumped its load, her response was immediate: “OH! Yes! YES!”
I was pleased to feel her pussy muscles revive as another orgasm rolled through her to greet mine. “What’s your name, sweetie?”
“Marla …” she gasped, still in the throws.
“Pleased to meet you, Marla. Mistress says we can come again, sometime,” I said, as I sat her down on a wooden chair and extracted my tool from her depths with a juicy slurping noise. “Won’t that be nice?”
“Ung … yeah … oh, yeah …” She slumped back and sighed.
“Bye for now, then.”
We slipped out the front of the shop, letting the door close again behind us.
“That was fun,” said Adele, as we walked away. “Let’s cruise for some guys, now.”
“Ya-huh,” I said, and promptly began to grope under my skirt.
Adele turned to stare at me – and so did a passing man, who looked a little bit like Daddy.
“What are you doing?” This question came from Adele (again), not the stunned stranger.
“Just gotta twist … there. Once it’s undocked, I can suck it right up … woooh! … inside me. See?” I lifted my skirt to flash my now dildo-free pussy.
I doubt the guy heard my unusual cyber-anatomy lesson – he seemed to be experiencing some sort of brain freeze. Adele smirked at him, and then to me she whispered, “How many…?”
“Dunno! I didn’t even know I could park the one in there.” To that statement I added, inevitably, a brainless giggle. I also continued to hold up the front of my skirt – since dropping it while contemplating my inner toy garage would have been the rough equivalent of walking and chewing gum.
Adele shrugged and turned back to the still staring man. She obviously considered him a potential customer.
When I followed her gaze, my one-track mind shunted over to full-lust mode. The guy really did look like Daddy – he even wore a linen suit that clearly came from the same tailor. (Bimbofication may have impaired my common sense, but apparently my fashion sense had improved.) I started to drool … from between my plump, bald pussy lips. “Where can we ...?” I really hadn’t bonded with the stairwell as a love nest.
She grinned, and said to both of us, “Come on.” Spinning on her heel, she led us straight back into Marla’s shop – right behind a pretty thirtyish woman whose quest for Versace had caused her to ignore both us and the ‘closed’ sign.
Oblivious to the lack of a traditional heroin-chic guardian shop girl, this intrepid fashion hunter dove strait into the rogues’ gallery of distorted (but well-dressed) mannequins. Adele, on the other hand, slipped past her and swung behind the counter into the storeroom beyond, with me and my admirer in tow. There Marla sat, still dazed and still wearing nothing but a damp red thong around her left ankle.
“Hey girl, how are you?”
“Full …”
“Okay … sure. Marla – meet, uh, Daddy.” She glanced at me and grinned again - she’d seen the resemblance, as well. “Daddy – meet our new friend Marla.”
‘Daddy’ was obviously pleased to meet Marla. Adele took charge of the proceedings, by ordering him to drop his trousers. He wasted no time obeying my little mistress’s demand. I could see she intended to help feed his cock into Marla’s still gaping receptacle; but, in the event, the big veiny article he revealed apparently appealed to her so much that she changed her plan.
I dimly perceived (‘dim’ being the operant word) that my ramped-up output of pheromones was hitting Adele as hard as everyone else ... so I wasn’t amazed when she leaned in to give Marla a big smoochie kiss, and then flipped the hem of her summer skirt up to expose her bare backside for ‘Daddy’. My boss-of-me friend, who’d only seemed interested in watching, had come over all slutty.
The substitution seemed to trouble him not at all – he simply humped his pelvis forward to engage her twitching pussy, and then stepped into her. Luckily, she’d been pre-stretched by my Daddy. Plus she was seriously pre-lubed - her little red bush was glistening with runlets of leaking girl-juices.
Unopposed, his cock slammed in to the hilt, although he had to crouch slightly to manage it. Once in her, he stood up straight … which lifted her feet right off the ground. She simply wrapped her arms around Marla and continued to French the weary thing. It was left for ‘Daddy’ to grip her wide-spread thighs and pump himself in and out of her.
That’s when I heard the woman who’d preceded us into the store calling for service. Seeing as Marla was occupied, I decided to help her out by playing shop girl. How hard could it be?
“Hi – watcha need?”
Could be, I wasn’t what the woman was expecting – although my ample boobies were mostly crammed back into my tube-top. Or maybe it was the faint squelching and girlish-squeaking sounds coming from the back room. At any rate, my new customer gave me an odd look, then shrugged and said, “Do you have that in a six?” A jerk of her head identified the party-gown in question, which at that moment was tarting up a particularly carnivorous looking mannequin.
I sized up her generous hips and chest, and then said, “Lady – that’s it. That’s the only one in the store. Maybe in the world. But I’ll bet it’ll fit you just fine.” Quite sure I could mash her in, I wiggled over and proceeded to hoist the dress over the dummy’s head, copping a feel of plastic mini-tits while I was at it.
When I turned back to offer her the dress, I found she’d already shucked off her lawyerish linen shirt and skirt, and now stood there in black bra and panties, plus a belt and suspender thingie that held up her stockings. I’d heard of such garments, of course, but I’d never met them on the flesh, as it were. It looked a bit kinky – which is to say, I approved.
She had already developed the same glazed look my other companions now wore. I glanced at the poster-strewn shop window beside us – only one or two shoppers were wandering past outside, between the glass and the railing of the vast open mall atrium the shop looked out over. The coast was clear, near enough, so I knelt and slipped about eight inches of tongue between her frilly laced panty-hem and thigh.
It was déjà vu all over again, as I swirled my way deep into her tasty snatch. Only this gal – I arbitrarily decided she looked like a Stella – was, as noted, much curvier than Marla. Stuffing her into that little gown was a challenge I looked forward to … after I’d teased her out of the remaining bits of stuff she was wearing now, of course.
There was another difference - Stella was more into participation. Once I’d bottomed out with my tongue, she started wailing, and crushing my face into her crotch with both hands. It should have hurt, excepting that I was impervious to that (Adele had told me that pain was an optional extra – a subject I had chosen not to pursue). And of course I fortunately didn’t need to breath.
It crossed my mind that when I’d recently deep-throated Greta’s double-ender, it was able to plug itself in somewhere near where I presently had my own T-flex stowed (even though it had been pushed in from the other direction). And so … therefore … it followed ... In my bimbo-state, that’s as far as I got. I had nothin’.
Fortunately for Stella, my manufacturer had anticipated this very problem. As I puzzled on where my thoughts were aimlessly wandering, my body went to semi-automatic, and the nearest end of the dildo inside my chest came sliding up my throat. So I reeled up my busy tongue and, even as Stella gasped in protest, I replaced it with something much fatter. By the time the mega-wang had locked into place (that is to say, inside me, not Stella), I found my face had been pushed clear of her soggy crotch by about six thick inches of excess dildo, which separated my stretched lips and her equally stretched pussy-lips.
Stella apparently didn’t mind the loss of my nose action on her clit – her shrieks doubled in intensity. Even in my dozy condition, it occurred to me that she might bring unwanted attention onto us. Not that I let up, of course.
In the event, the noise brought my mistress, who marched out with a well-fucked, gunslinger-style swagger, followed by her sticky, naked admirers.
“Daddy – put your tongue down this one’s throat, will ya? That’s the way. Good Daddy.”
With ‘Daddy’s' assistance, Stella subsided into muffled groans, as I continued to bob my head and probe my tool in her clutching cunt. That woman could sure roll out a fine orgasm.
Marla joined in to take advantage of ‘Daddy’s’ unengaged cock and had started to lick it clean of its coating of blended cum-juices. Adele, who was still as buzzed as the others on my hormonal output, had chosen to go all ambi-sextrous by straddling my exposed portion of mouth-cock and then unwrapping and munching Stella’s ample breasts.
Poor Stella – her pussy was going all frantic on my wang thingie. It seemed a shame to disappoint her, so I fired a good load of cum into her womb. Her answering shrieks managed to sneak past ‘Daddy’s' tongue, and Adele whooped, too, as my shaft pulsed between her grinding cunt lips.
Maybe my mistress was becoming conditioned to my chemical charms - leastwise, a little while later she managed to come to her senses, more or less. She extricated herself (and me) from our new friends' attentions; then she tried on the green dress she'd fancied earlier. Seeing as it fit her perfectly, she rang it up, using the credit card she'd extracted from 'Daddy's' abandoned wallet. They failed to notice us slip out of the shop afterward – they were by then too busy performing some sort of mutually satisfactory three-way act on the floor.
The possibility that a confused reality might overtake them as my influence wore off didn’t occur to me until we were well on our way. Actually, I would never have thought of it, except that I said something uncommonly vacuous to Adel, and she simply replied, “Geez, Tracie! Grow a brain.”
And so I did. At least, I reverted to the settings I’d found myself at when this droid thing all started. “Right. Um. Adele … what about Marla and ‘Daddy’ and Stella?”
She gave me a look – if I was back with the smarts, I clearly wasn’t showing it. “Stella?”
“Oh. I just sorta gave that other woman a name – in my head, like.”
“Hmmm, right. I expect they’ll get by. Maybe we’ll look in soon and see if they’ve become a regular item. A fuckathon session every Monday afternoon, sort of thing. That would be cool. As for now, it’s time to take you home. I’m gonna call for a cab.” She held up a business card. “Carl said to ring him up anytime.”
“That was fun,” said Adele. “Let’s do it again tomorrow – same time, same place?”
Well, there was another direct order. “Yes, Mistress.” Not that I wasn't keen.
Adele just smiled – she was definitely getting off on this boss thing.
“I don't know if Stella is up for another visit so soon, though,” I suggested. “Plus, how are you gonna get outa school early again?”
“Oh, I can get another day or two out of the ‘girl problems’ line. By then, I think I can work out a payola deal with Mr. Brodrick. He’s been peeking under my skirt lately, when he doesn’t think I’m looking. A few quickies in the closet should keep my grades up to par, into the bargain.”
“Well, cool. He’s kinda hot.”
“Which reminds me. I’m going over to Uncle Max’s tonight for some tutoring. Momma is thrilled he’s taking an interest in my education. History again tonight – he’s got some great old books. We’ve nearly finished working our way though something called ‘The Joy of Sex’. Anyhow, tomorrow after lunch I’ll get Carl to pick me up from school – I’ll meet you when you wake up at two.”
With that, she whipped off home along the back trail, while I changed into my French Maid outfit. Once I was fitted out in black stockings, frilly skirtlet, tight blouse and apron (plus that studded leather collar Daddy likes so much), I started making dinner. Already there wasn’t time left for a salad course … and then I accidentally triggered a recorded Lacy-fuck from my internal library. By this time, I was mostly able to control these reruns – but I didn’t often want to. Anyway, it involved a quickie on the bake table, so it didn't take long - but when the recorded Daddy disappeared I found myself thrashing on my back in the remains of dessert.
Daddy got home before I could clean up, but he had an easy solution. “I can eat dinner after your 'nap',” he said (we were still heavy into euphemisms). “For now, why don’t we go play out on the deck?”
We did, with me on my back again (this time up on a conveniently padded flower bench, with my high-heeled feet behind my ears). As it happened, I'd forgotten about the dildo I had stored inside me back at the mall. It wasn’t exactly stiff, but it was still fat and firm, and it took up a powerful amount of room in there. But, being as it was unplugged and loose, Daddy's cock was able to shift it up higher my chest to the base of my throat - which was rather nice.
“Vas-y plus fort,” I begged, to keep in my character as a French maid; and Daddy obliged by pumping harder. We were just getting to the best part when I glanced at the kitchen door ... to see my Auntie Christie standing there, with an understandably shocked look on her face. I had no idea how long she’d been there, but her face was red and she looked seriously annoyed. Only, she had her left hand stuffed inside her slacks.
Oblivious, Daddy continued to give me long strokes, his balls smacking my bum loudly, until I managed to gasp, “Oof … we got … oof … company …”
Daddy followed my look and did a mid-thrust double take.
“Front door was open,” said Auntie.
He delivered two more hard slams on autopilot before he finally stopped up with half his wood still engaged. “Hi, Chris - long time no see. I’d like you to meet, ah, Lacy.”
I went with the theme of the moment. In a slightly strangled voice, I said, “Bonjour, Madam. Je suis la femme de chamber - évidemment.” Sure – obviously I'm the maid, what with the costume, the black studded collar, the custard stains still on my back, and her brother's cock lodged in me. Well, you try to think of something to say at a time like that.
As for Daddy, I thought he would undergo wang-wilt, but the situation only seemed to excite him. "Be right with you - we're nearly done here..." he told her. Then he re-doubled his efforts, pounding so hard that the dildo was forced further up my throat, and I had to tip my head back to make room for it. The upshot (so to speak) was that when Daddy came, the flood of spunk stretched my belly then surged up inside my chest. I opened my mouth to shriek, but only got out a strangled wail - the tip of the T-flex emerged instead, along with some pressurised cum that was forced out around it.
Auntie’s eyes got all big, and the colour drained from her face … she still figured I was a real girl, so her first thought was that Daddy’s dong had somehow gone right through me. She staggered backwards into the kitchen, her retreat slightly hampered by having her hand still pinned inside her trousers.
Daddy pulled his cock out of me with a ‘shloop’, and while he was hauling on his britches he gave me a big wink. Then he followed his sister into the house.
Good luck with that, I thought. And, sure enough, I could hear Auntie Christie shouting, more or less incoherently, although the words ‘slut’, ‘robo-whore’, and ‘baby’s funeral’ were clear enough. I couldn’t hear Daddy’s side at all. (Did I mention it’s a really big house?)
After a while I couldn’t hear Auntie, either, so I figured it was safe to scout things out on tip-toe, with my ears set on directional scan. It was embarrassing to listen to, what with the crying and the nice things said about yours truly (the Tracie part). Even though I wasn’t actually gone, Daddy didn’t have to act too much, being that he was still pretty upset about the whole thing. Mind you, the considerable time I’d spent cheering him up showed a bit – when Auntie Cee said how much she’d miss me (not that I’d seen her in ages), he responded that I was no doubt still with them in spirit.
My giggles were luckily drowned out by the sort of rustling of clothes which signifies major hugging, followed by serious smoochie sounds.
I was trying to figure out how to get a peek, when I heard Auntie say, “Momma knew about us for years, you know.”
“What? How could she have?” says my old man.
“She just figured it out. One day, she caught my expression when you went off somewhere without me, and she gave me that look she had – remember the one with the one eyebrow lifted? And I kind of ‘fessed up …”
“And you didn’t think she was maybe giving you the ‘eye of truth’ for something else completely?”
Auntie blew her nose loudly, and then laughed. “Trust me. It was a very communicative eying. Anyway, I cracked – but I didn’t want to just blurt it all out. So I sort of eased into it. I said to her, ‘Momma - remember that sweater I had?’” – here Auntie pitched her voice higher to sound like a younger version of herself – “’The one you told me not to share until I got bigger? Well, I kinda got Rickie to look it over for me, and then one thing led to another … and we found out that it fit him perfectly. After that, I got him to wear it again – pretty near every day. He tried stretching it out, every which way, but it always fit him really, really good ….’ That’s when Momma said, ‘Enough already! I get it.’ She just sat there, shaking her head, but she was smiling, too – and then she sighed and said that she used to share her ‘sweater’ with Uncle Dave, before he went and got killed in Iraq.”
Whoa! Even though I’d sorta already guessed (excepting the bit about Grammy and her brother Dave), I nearly fell through the hall door when I heard it confirmed like that from the source. Anyways, there were more snuffling and smooching sounds, and then Daddy said he had something to confess about ME. Auntie says, “You can’t mean like, you and Tracie… with her, uh, sweater?” And he says, “Well, not while she was still alive …”
Which was when my sixty-second low-battery alarm went off, so I completely missed out on how Daddy planned to talk his way out of that corner. By the time I did a cat-footed sprint up the back stairs to get to my chair, there were ten fat inches of probe waiting for me. I humped down on it, eager to get it docked inside me, the room flickered …
*
and there was Aunt Christie.
“Ack! Auntie!”
She looked just as startled as me - I’d seen Lacy both on and shut down, but never when she was snapping awake. I could imagine as how that would make anybody jump.
“I’m sorry – you just kinda … appeared …” I said, lamely.
She just stared at me for a longish time, until I snapped. “It’s me, Auntie, it’s Tracie," I blurted. "Stuck in this machine. Daddy and my other mast … uh, my friend Adele, they took some convincing, too. So did Uncle Max. I don’t mind.” Although, to be honest, I did.
While she continued staring, I took in the fact that she was wearing Daddy’s bath robe, and he was standing behind her wearing just his boxer shorts. So apparently they’d managed to re-connect, as it were, and console themselves while I was recharging. I also registered (finally) that I was sitting there all starkers - my dessert-and-cum stained clothes were gone. Daddy must have cleaned me up for viewing. Unless - Geez - had Auntie helped him? I found that idea oddly unsettling.
Finally she spoke. “Uncle Max?”
“Huh? Oh - right - that's Adele’s uncle. He knows about me, too. Good in the sack – you’d like him. Oh! Sorry!” My eyes got all wide when I realized what I’d said. “I didn’t mean to … I guess Daddy must have told you about Lacy. Did he happen to mention as how she’s a little bit tangled up with me?”
“He told me if I spent enough time with you, I’d believe … this. I’m beginning to see what he meant.”
And so we spent the next couple of hours together, the three of us.
I'd been right about how Daddy and Aunt Christie had spent the time while I was recharging. They had somehow covered the full story of my demise, and renewed their former intimacy. Apparently they had only rested up long enough for Auntie and I to be formally reintroduced, and then, well, thank goodness for EverReady.
Occasionally, during the festivities, Auntie would ask me a question like, "What was the name of the puppy I had when you were eight?"
And then I'd have to pull out the cock or tit or toe currently in my mouth (while still multitasking by massaging whatever was in my pussy or ass) and answer: "Glurp! You didn't have a dog until I was ten!"
>< >< ><
Around midnight, there was a bit of a lull … relatively speaking. I was on my back in the middle of the bed, with Daddy slowly pumping my pussy and Christie rhythmically rocking her pussy on my face. I was using my long tongue to caress the mouth of her womb; as far as I could tell, her tongue was wrestling with Daddy’s, somewhere up above me.
While we gently stimulated one another this way, I finally had time to ponder what I’d heard earlier. Daddy and Christie hadn’t just been bumping pelvises for sport, back in the day. Once upon a time, they had actually talked about moving to a new town and setting up as a married couple: Mister and Missus Ward. And then Daddy had met Mamma at college, which was lucky for me ‘cause, what with the inbreeding and all, I might have been born with two heads – although now that I think of it, having a sister on my shoulder might have been easier than sharing the inside of my head with Lacy.
Where was I? Oh, yeah. So Christie was understandably pissed when Daddy got married to somebody else, and they didn’t speak much, even after Mamma died. Until now. Now, maybe, we were family again.
After another hour of mellow cuddle play, Christie announced that she seriously needed some sleep - she'd been six hours on the road before arriving here and falling straight into a major sex marathon with Daddy and me. She insisted on tucking me in, though ... which basically meant waiting for me to finish my three minute flush-and-shine shower, and then holding my hands when I sat down on my chair. I smiled up at her while I waited for the machine to sense my presence. After a moment the hatch opened under me, I made a little mewling sound to let her know my charging probe was on its way up my ass. Then the tingle of it connecting …
*
and Christie vanished. Tuesday morning had arrived.
"I've got a
little problem, here," he said. "I
guess you know Adele was over to my place last night. Well, she took some
Raggedy Anne."
" Raggedy Anne?
Wazzat?"
"You really didn't get out much when you
were a real live girl, did you? It's a designer street drug, been around for a
few years now. I don't know where she got it. Anyhow, it leaves you fully
conscious, but pretty much paralyzed, 'cept for breathing. Limp as a dishrag,
but poseable. Folks use it for kinky sex."
"Umm ... yeah.
Everybody paralyzed. And how does that work?"
"Well, not both
people take it, obviously."
"And if the guy
takes it ..."
" Raggedy Anne? I
suppose he could take it ... with Viagra or EverReady, maybe, to keep the mast
up. Whatever. Listen - the point is, she took some - in the bathroom, not long after she got
here. She only got two steps out the door before she keeled over on her back. I
found her with a smiley-faced sticky note on her chest that said she wanted to
find out what it was like to be you, and that I was to use her any way I
wanted."
"But that doesn't
make any sense. I can move around and stuff. Besides - I thought she already
let you use her whatever way you ..."
"That's what I
told her when I found her."
"So what
happened?"
"What do you
think? It was her idea, after all. I was saving the 'Kama Sutra' for later on,
but I don't think she could have held the 'Wife of Indra' or the 'Lotus-like
Position' for long, anyway. But now, with the drug... So we did the deed -
well, I did, anyways. But she's awake in there, and I told her what we were
doing while I put it to her. Turns out, her pussy muscles still work, so I'm
pretty sure she enjoyed herself."
"'Awake in
there'? As in, present tense? So she's still ...?"
"Well, that's the
problem, isn't it? The stuff is supposed to wear off in about four hours, but
she's still paralyzed, and I have no idea how much she took. She'll be fine,
but I have an important appointment first thing this morning in the city - so I
thought you could look after her for a while."
"Where are
you?"
"Right out front.
I'll carry her in for you."
Which he did - I met him at the front door, and there was Adele slumped in his arms, wearing nothing but one of his coats. Her head was lolling back, and she had sunglasses perched on her nose.
"She could come around anytime," Max whispered - he knew Daddy would be sleeping (I didn't tell him with whom - I figured that surprise would keep for later). "But if she doesn't loosen up by breakfast, you can pour a smoothie into her. It'll be okay - she can swallow just fine. I tested her out last night."
I didn't bother to ask how he'd tested that. "Just put her on the couch. I'll call you when the drug wears off."
"Thanks, Tracie - you're a peach."
I'm also a slave droid who can't refuse an order, but I just said, "I'll take good care of her, Max."
Once I'd let him out, I went back to my little mistress. She was propped in a sitting position, more or less, with her arms hanging at her sides. Her head was tipped back on a pillow and her mouth was hanging open, which was seriously creepy.
"Hey, girl. looks like you got yourself in a bit of a fix. You'll have shake this off if we're gonna make it to the mall this afternoon. Can I make you more comfortable?"
No response - naturally - so I started by taking off the sunglasses. Her pupils were slightly dilated, and she was staring at a point in space somewhere above my right shoulder. Which, I'd been told, was how I look when I'm shut down ... only Max assured me she was still awake. Cool. I proceeded to unwrap her, which was harder than it sounds. I had to lean her toward me, peel the coat back off her bare shoulders, and then manipulate her limp arms around to get the thing off her. It was, as the name of the drug suggested, just like undressing the big rag doll I had when I was little. Only this one was anatomically correct.
I had simply intended to carry her to bed, but the sight of all that delectable flesh had my wicked Lacy influences bubble up to the surface.
"Raggedy Anne, huh? I see your nipples are stiff, though. Ha!"
I leaned her back on the couch again and then, by way of experimenting, I lifted her left leg straight out. After having wrestled her out of the coat, I knew the leg would drop if I let go, so I swung it sideways and laid it straight out on the couch beside her. Of course then I had to give her exposed pussy a deep lick. The rest of her might have been limp, but her pussy tried to get a grip on my tongue, and her juices began flooding onto the leather cushion.
"Max was right! It looks like you're enjoying this. How's about we try the other leg? Well, cool! I never seen you do the splits before." I had another nosh on her nethers, and then said, "Okay - time to see what else you can do ..."
I started by tipping her forward so that she ended up pretty much folded double, with bum still on the couch and her head and hands resting on the floor. This, I thought, is definitely going to be interesting. There was no clear access to her holes like that, though, so I rolled her forward, right over onto her back on the rug. She landed with her arms and legs every-which-way, and I had a sudden flash of nostalgia ... like I should dress her up and have a tea party with her.
Maybe later, I thought, and I proceeded to re-organize her. I folded one leg up so that her knee was to her chest, and then kept pulling it back so her heel was behind her head. Next I hooked her arm up over the back of her knee to hold it there. Then I did the other side, crossing her ankles behind her head, which lifted it toward her slightly squished tits. Once I'd tucked her hands under her back, I found I had created an Adele-ball, teetering on her back with her head pushed up by her shins and her bum lifted high to counterbalance.
"Yer looking good, Adele," I assured her.
I felt proud of my handiwork, although I figured that one of Max's books probably had a name for that position, too - the Footstool? But the important thing was that her mouth, pussy and ass were all lined up on top. And, as fate would have it, I still happened to have the T-flex parked inside me. It would, I thought, sure be handy now.... except I didn't know how to get it back out. Being as it was unplugged, it was sort of floating in there. Daddy had managed to push it up enough to catch hold of, yesterday, but he was still in bed, so I'd just have to improvise. I pulled Adele's left hand out from under her back and swung her arm out; then I balled a fist for her and humped awkwardly onto it.
Not so elegant, but it worked a charm. The end of the wang came up my throat and a good four inches out my mouth - more than enough to get a grip on it (slippery though it was). I pulled it part-way out, then shoved it back in to dock properly inside me - so that well over a foot of it was hanging semi-limply from my face. After dismounting from Adele's arm, I put her now sticky hand back underneath her and studied her thoughtfully.
It looked like she was maybe starting to thaw, 'cause her thousand-yard stare seemed to be wearing off. Her eyes weren't actually moving, but they weren't as dilated, and they seemed to have some twinkle going on. Which was good, seeing as whichever hole I serviced, I planned to be looking right into her peepers while I did it.
Right, I thought, pussy it is. I finally jacked the dildo up to a full hard-on and lined it up my chosen target. And that's when Christie walked in. "Good morning, Tracie."
"Mmmmf," I replied. Regretfully I then pushed my finger into my navel to undock the dong, and hauled the suddenly limp thing out of my throat. "Ahem. Good morning, Auntie. Um. This is Adele. she's, ah ..."
"It's alright, Trace. We have Raggedy Anne in Denver, too." Then, to my folded friend, Auntie said, "Pleased to meet you, Tracie. I've heard all about you. Richie says you've been a big help with all this android stuff - I gather you're pretty much part of the family, now. we'll talk some more later."
"Max just dropped her off," I said. Nothing to do with me - honest. "He asked me to look after her."
"I can see that. But the thing about Raggedy Anne is, she can't tell you if your lovely big toy is hurting her."
I could have told her that Adele had enjoyed this same prosthetic prick off and on (so to speak) ever since Saturday night. Still, Auntie was currently the boss of me.
"Whereas," she continued, "I would certainly be able to let you know if I should happen to experience any discomfort." She let the dressing gown she'd commandeered from Daddy slide off her shoulders onto the floor.
"Sorry, Adele," I murmured, just before I fed the dildo back down my throat, and transferred my attention to my aunt.
>< >< ><
Sometime later, Daddy came downstairs to find his sister and I bare-assed and engaged in a dildo-enhanced sixty-nine on the living room rug.
What he said, though, was, "Adele - what the fuck are you doing?" Men are so fickle.
Since Adele couldn't talk, and my mouth was full, Christie (who was currently on top) lifted her head up from my quivering pussy to answer, "Your little neighbour is all tied up right now..."
Daddy looked confused - I was pleased to see I wasn't the only one on the planet out of the loop on this Raggedy Anne thing. Christie summed it up for him: "Adele took a drug that's left her completely limp for a while." She didn't bother to explain why the poor kid was laying on her back in a contortionist's tangle next to us. "It'll wear off soon, but in the meantime, she'd be more than pleased if you'd fuck her."
His twitching cock agreed that, yes, that would be quite nice. He dropped his pyjama bottoms (which reminded me that pirate night would soon be coming around again) and knelt down behind her. But then, instead of stuffing her with his schlong, he began to nibble and lick and suck her all over. He left her in the position he found her, and worked his way around from the inside of her thighs to the backs of her calves to the soles of her feet - then he played 'This Little Piggy' on her lovely toes, sucking each in turn into his mouth. Once in a while his cockhead would brush against her, sometimes teasingly close to one of her hungry holes. But mostly it was all mouthwork.
Of course, I wasn't watching all the time, what with Christie working to hold my attention, but when I did I could see the effect it was having on Adele - limp as she was. For one thing, she was leaking positive buckets, and her lips were starting to tremble ... her upper ones, I mean. Her pussy lips were swollen more than I'd ever seen, and flushed a deep pink. I was positive Daddy was bringing her to the edge of a humongous orgasm.
Sure enough, after a while I heard her begin to moan - the drug was finally beginning to wear off. When I looked back over at her, her whole body was vibrating. Daddy still hadn't put his cock in her - in fact he just seemed to be whispering in her ear. Whatever he said, it must have been majorly sexy, 'cause the next thing you know, her pussy was pumping out jets of girl-cum.
Well, that was so hot it put me over the edge, and I took Christie with me. The next time I looked back at them, Daddy was finally putting it to Adele. She was still barely moving - there was some head jerking and hand fluttering - but she was obviously locked in a non-stop, fireworks-and-bell-ringing orgasm.
After pumping into the Adele-ball for a bit, he untangled her and stood up - with her still locked onto his dong - and leaning back so that her limp (but slightly convulsing) body lay against his chest, he continued to swing his hips to drill her. It was so cool! He followed that by lovingly laying her on her back on top of the coffee table, so that her head hung off the edge, and then taking advantage of her total lack of gag reflex.
>< >< ><
Anyway, we all finished up back in Daddy's king sized bed, after having knocked around the living room until we were pretty much fucked out. I even got to show Auntie that my big toy did, in fact, fit inside my friend. Now we snuggled together under the down comforter, relaxing. (Especially Adele, who was still mostly limp - Daddy had had to carry her up the stairs.)
We'd been chatting about this and that, when Christie chuckled and said to me, "You know, not that I really needed it, but you proved that you were telling the truth yesterday... you greedy little slut." She grinned and added, "No offence intended - I'm a greedy slut too, sometimes. The thing is, you planned to take your pleasure with Adele, here. Well, not the sort of thing you expect from a sex-bot, is it? Not unless it's programmed that way, anyhow. Which wasn't likely, because your father and I taught each other how to give pleasure, and how to make it last as long as possible. So you really must be Tracie - and if he hadn't taught you that stuff yet, it followed that he was telling the truth about not having bonked you before your accident. See?"
Actually, I thought her reasoning seemed a bit shaky; plus I wanted to tell her that I could deliver the goods just fine, thank you. But she was right, in as much as pleasing Adele wasn't exactly the first thing that came to my mind when the girl was presented to me on a platter. Unlike Daddy, who well and truly brought her over the moon.
"So teach me."
"Ee ooh," added the barely functional Adele.
"Not just now, my sated sweeties," murmured my Aunt, as she snuggled deeper into our cozy nest of warm tangled bodies.
>< >< ><
In the event, we dozed together for the next hour. Or at least they did, although I had already learned how to sort of declutch my mind and coast along thought-free - which is pretty much the same thing, I suppose. And then a hearty breakfast ... although again with some exceptions. Although Adele could now sit up, she had to be spoon fed yogurt. As for me, my hungers have become mostly sexual but I'm still into flavours, so I had several strawberries. Also Christie poured some maple syrup over her plump titties for me to lick off. Yum!
After that, it was time for my 10 AM shutdown/nap. Daddy had some errands (he was off work for a few weeks bereavement leave, and he still had to work out some details for my funeral), while Christie promised to nurse Adele along so she could with luck still go to the mall with me when I came back on-line.
*
“Whoa!”
“Sorry,” said Adele. Her face had appeared just inches from mine, and she looked like shit - her hair was uncombed and her eyes were all red. “Um – what’s your name?”
My probes were still retreating back into the chair, and my best attempt at an answer was, “Huh?”
“Please! What’s your name?”
“Tracie. Tracie Ward. Around the house, anyway - I’m mostly Lacy in town. Why on earth…?”
“What was the name of your grade two teacher?”
“What?”
“I didn’t meet you until we started grade five together. Just now I had a look at your class photo, and I never saw this woman in my life. So – what was her name?”
“What the hell are you talking about? My grade two teacher was Mr. Thomas.”
“Oh, thank Christ!”
“Adele – you’re scaring me. I thought we were gonna go to the mall?”
She came over all teary at that, and said, “Don’t worry – it’s just that … there’s kinda been a … we got a problem.”
“Not helping …”
“No, really, it’ll be okay ... first, stand up.”
“Okay. Um … when did I get so tall?”
“Come on over to the mirror. They put me in charge of ‘splaining everything.”
Once there, it was the statuesque Adele-bot (AKA Greta) that looked back at me, in all her naked glory, with the reflection of Adele standing all sheepish alongside. For some reason, my pretty little mistress was wearing an old flannel shirt, which still managed to be sexy - largely because it was only closed with one button and it was clear she wasn’t wearing anything else. At this point, I finally consulted my inner clock and found there was also a matter of two missing days.
“It was my fault,” Adele said. “We went back to the mall, you and me, Tuesday afternoon, and I kinda got busy looking at clothes. Well, geez, Max had fucked me most of the night, and then you and Richard and Christie took over for half the morning, and I only got a little nap while you were shut down. Anyways, I looked around and you were … gone. I thought maybe you’d just gone looking for boys on your own. But I couldn’t find you anywhere. Even if you’d popped a fuse or something, I was sure I’d be able to find you, but nadda.” She was starting to cry plenty, now. “I wasted a whole hour before I called your dad. He came right away, but … well, we’re pretty sure you were stolen.”
“Standing right here … sort of.” I hefted a borrowed tit.
“Yeah, well, I talked Uncle Max into loaning Greta,” – I noticed she was too embarrassed to mention the droid’s 'Adele' personality, the one she actually preferred – “And we’ve booted her up with your backup files.” She pointed back at my chair. “I was terrified it wouldn’t work.”
So were Greta and Adele-bot in my head along with Lacy? I couldn't sense them, so probably they'd both been deleted or overwritten or something, and were now backed up somewhere just like I'd been. I gave my snuffling friend and mistress a hug. “I feel fine. Really. And that was awfully nice of Max …”
The hug must have cheered Adele up some, because she started to fondle my bum. “Well, he still gets the use of you Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays,” she said. “Until the factory delivers a replacement copy of you.”
A replacement me - Geez. Mind you, it wasn't a huge shock. After all, it was the second time in a week I’d woken up in a new body. So I spun around to admire my temporary self in the mirror. My borrowed hooters jiggled pleasantly for a while after I stopped, and I said, “Let’s not be hasty about settling on my next design.” Being shared with Max certainly didn’t strike me as a difficulty, but … “Didn’t you say Lacy was, like, super expensive?”
Adele reddened. “Uncle Max is selling off his beachfront cottage in Oregon. He gets me Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
Again, I saw no difficulty there, cottage aside. I doubted Adele would, either. It certainly explained the fresh cum on the inside of her thighs.
“But that’s not the problem,” she confirmed. “See … the missing Lacy-bot unit is still you. There’s another Tracie still out there.”
Oh. Right. That was definitely sobering. There was now a droid somewhere that was identical to me - memory-wise, at least, and barring her last two days of experiences. She was me, but of course not me – if she never turned up in these parts again, she’d still lead her own life somewhere. She was more like an identical twin. Only more so - twins have the same body blueprint, but different minds. So did we, but only since last Tuesday. On the other hand … “Um – what happens if we find her?”
“Everybody's been doing research. Max found out about a brothel in Havana that’s got over a dozen PleasureDroid units, all different shapes and sizes. Some of them are … seriously different. There’s a couple with cocks where there clits ought to be, and apparently even one who has her pussy swapped with her mouth.”
I goggled at this, and then started to laugh.
“What, already?”
“I just wondered how she’d whistle.” As a test, I tried pushing some air out of my pussy and got a farting noise for my trouble.
“How she would whistle? You've become one weird puppy.”
“No, no. I can do it! Listen …” I managed to blat out something that vaguely resembled the Star Spangled Banner (but in a tasteful sort of way, of course).
Adele snickered in spite of herself. “Close. Actually, Max says she’s got tongues both upstairs and down, but she talks from between her legs - where her regular shaped lips are. So, yeah, she prob’ly whistles from down there too.” She shook her head, I thought maybe to clear that image - but then she flushed even more, right from her ruddy roots down to her mostly exposed tits, and said, “You know you got a PT69 toy, right?”
“A what where, now?”
“A pussy-tongue attachment. It’s with the kinkier stuff, under the lift-out tray. Actually, I was just thinking about having you try it out on me when you up and disappeared.”
“Oh, right. That one. Sure. Under the tray.” I wasn't fooling anybody, but she let it pass, so I didn’t get the ‘read your manual’ lecture. “Let's try it now!"
"Mmm, yes. NO!" Adele gulped some air to get a grip on her lust, and then said, “The point of all this is that those Cuban sex droids all share a single personality. Like, their chairs are linked together, and they all just keep adding on to each other’s memories every time they recharge. The result is a knock-shop full of super-hookers … well, Max said that for what the place charges – and trust him to check – they’re more like top-of-the-shelf courtesans. Whatever. But they’re all named Lola-This or Lola-That, and together they remember every customer they’ve ever had. That’s what they call the place: ‘Aspects of Lola’. Apparently they’re very popular. ”
Well, that was food for thought. For example, me and myself could both do Daddy …
“So here’s the thing – what with these girls all being linked, it’s almost like they’re one entity. Max said Lola was a ‘meta-whore’, and then he laughed for some reason. Anyhow, now there’s two of you. Probably, we could sort of fuse your backups together, with memories of both Tracies for the time you were apart.” Apparently the possibility of keeping multiple versions of me around the place, like with Lola, hadn’t been considered. “But we don’t know for sure. We think what happened to you – the accident – might be unique. Max and yer old man both had enough time to, um, get to know their original droids, and they agree that you’re different.”
I chose to take that as a compliment.
“That’s why Richard didn’t report this theft thing to the police,” Adele continued. “We think you’re not supposed to exist.”
It was pretty hard to interpret that as a good thing. “What makes you think people aren’t getting fried by those headsets all the time? Acme Robotics isn’t gonna want that to get around.”
“Actually, we found out that a few people have been fried – and they all ended up either brain-dead or dead-dead,” said Adele. “Mostly the reason we think you’re a one-off is because if droids could be imprinted with a real person’s memories, that would be a Very Big Deal. You know, a perfect body plus immortality. Well, I guess you do know.”
I blushed at this, and refrained from mentioning the downside of officially being a mechanical fuck slave - not that I could think of any off the top of my head.
“And if some super rich warlord-type dude managed to transfer himself to a droid, and then he was up-linked to a lot of other droids … and all of them were synced, like in Cuba … well, you’d have something scary powerful. Too powerful to hide for long.”
“What about my programmed-in ‘Robot Law’ thing?”
“Just programming. If a Really Bad Guy wanted to transfer himself to a zillion droids, he’d get rid of that little inconvenience quick-time.”
“So then he could take over the world with an army of sex toys?”
“Hey – don’t laugh! The military studied making soldier droids years ago. They were powerful, but dumb, and easy to fuck up with a few high-energy radiation bursts. But giving those things human cunning...”
“Hey – you're speaking to one of ‘those things’.” I licked Adele’s cheek to show I meant my mistress no disrespect. It felt odd to have to lean way down to do it. And I thought about the Lolas, who had a lot of other skills. Not to mention access to all the rich and powerful guys who could afford their services. Just add cunning and stir... “So what happens now?”
I said that last bit loud enough to let Daddy and Christie and Max know that I could tell they were lurking out in the hallway. They all shuffled in like kids caught in the act of some minor mischief - and their randomly incomplete attire suggested what kind of mischief they'd got up to in my absence. My nipples hardened up at the sight of them – I was in the mood for some of that, myself. As always, since my 'conversion'.
Apparently, what they'd heard satisfied them that the Tracie upload was a success (Tracie/Lacy, actually, since her personality was tangled up with mine in the same file). Daddy, who was still wearing his pyjama bottoms, started right in. “Now - we hope you can home-in on the other Tracie. We found out from the manual that you – erm, I mean she has a gizmo inside so the Acme people can track her if they want. Just today, Max disabled the one in your Greta unit, to be on the safe side. But we don’t know the thing’s range, or whether you can tune in the signal.”
“I can tell when other droids are around. It isn’t like some kinda beacon, though – I just seem to sense their energy. Anyway, I’m not picking up anything right now.” I fiddled my clit restlessly, as if that would help tune in my sister-me.
“Fair enough,” Max said. He was wearing boxers that didn't quite conceal the flushed tip of his cock hanging out of the left leg-hole. Also an unfamiliar pair of slippers. “That’s something, anyway. Like you said, a PleasureDroid is super pricey. Even more than waterfront, actually,” he added, looking pointedly at Adele. “We figure there’s a gang of thieves using a tracker to spot unguarded units in places like the mall. All they need to do is get them alone and use the override command to shut down the bot’s non-essential operating systems …”
“You mean there’s a command that will make me some kinda zombie?”
It was Adele’s turn to answer. “Not in the ‘gotta eat brains for dinner’ sort of way, but yeah, it shuts down your analytic functions and puts you on automatic. Not just frozen up, like ‘fruit …’ - uh, like that safety word I used the other day. You really want to finish reading that manual of yours. Anyway, once you’d become a mindless robot – no offence - they could just walk you out of the mall and take you away to their hideout.”
“So the other me is, like, in somebody’s basement?”
“Well, maybe. I didn’t wanna mention it, but all they need is a chair of their own, and they can upload a new personality, like we did just now … and they might have deleted yours, first.”
“Crap! You mean I might have been kidnapped and murdered?”
“Easy, there, dead girl," said Christie. She was wearing a fuzzy pink sweater, full stop. "Legally, it would be more like Grand Theft Auto. That other you belongs to Richard - and just now, you belong to Uncle Max, here. And no offence, again, but that might be the best outcome. If they figure out that what they’ve got - your other self, I mean - is uber-special, then we’re back to the whole ‘taking over the world’ scenario. Plus, they’d know that a backup copy of you was still stored in this chair …”
“And want to get it for themselves,” I finished.
“It would be tidier for them, that way, yeah. Same goes for if Acme, or the Government, or somebody else entirely, somehow already knew you’d been human once, before they even grabbed you. Obviously, nobody has come after the chair - yet. So with luck we're just up against thieves."
Only Russian gangsters then, I thought. No problem.
"Still, if it makes you feel better," said Max, "we’ve made multiple backup copies of you and stashed them all over.”
It did, actually, although I still couldn’t quite grasp what that really meant.
“Here’s the plan, then,” announced Daddy, “such as it is. We’re going to take you to the mall, and see what we come up with.”
Not much of a plan, in my opinion. I couldn’t tell if I was going along as a droid detector, or as bait. Both, it seemed. There was certainly more to this whole fuck-slave gig than I would have guessed. “We better get going, then. I don’t suppose I can hump someone in the backseat on the way over, can I?”
Having paused to get more suitably attired, the five of us piled into Christie's big old Jaguar sedan. I was suddenly the tallest one of the bunch, so it was Adele who got to sit between the guys in the back, with her skirt up and a hand inside each of their pants.
"Do not even think about fucking my gear shifter," said Christie, when she noticed where I was staring. "At least, not right now. We're on a mission."
*
“Hey!” said Adele.
“Geez!” was my snappy comeback. It was Tuesday afternoon, and time to go to the mall ... assuming Adele had recovered from the Raggedy Anne.
Apparently she had - she was wearing a mid-thigh sun dress and a chipper expression.
“Aren’t you used to that yet? Come on and get dressed. Carl’s waiting.”
Excellent! Once I’d found a more-or-less legal skirt and tube top, I helped Carl get over the stress of waiting. This time I provided the service standing up, with my back against the front door. Some of my later activities on the drive to the mall got him all tense again – or at least stiff. I intended to take care of that as soon as we arrived, but Adele told him that he could just wait ‘till later when he’d picked us up again.
When we got inside, we started out with a quick circuit of the place, scanning for cute boys just like the old days - as in, pre-Lacy. Although yesterday Adele had agreed we should give our new friend Ms. Mountshaft a day of rest, and see what other fun (read naughtiness) we could find, no likely candidates turned up during our first lap of the lower level. I could tell Adele was getting restless, 'cause she told me how she still wanted to try on a shiny green blouse we’d seen in Marla’s shop. And so back we went.
Marla smiled when we appeared in her door, but she looked a little shop-worn, as it were. "Hiya!"
"Hiya," I answered. This was going to be Adele's sport - without even discussing tactics, she veered left to check out the dress she fancied, while I chatted up Marla. I remembered to play the bimbo the pretty shopkeeper was familiar with - and discovered I could turn up my pheromone output to match. "How are tricks?"
The tall girl giggled a little madly, and said, "Most excellent! Susan stayed the night - she only just slipped out a few hours ago."
"Susan?"
"You know," said Marla with a blush. "The woman we played with yesterday?"
Susan - Stella - whatever. I'd been close, anyway. "Susan. Right. So you guys fucked from when we left right through 'til this morning?"
"Well, mostly. We slept for a bit, and I sold a few hats just before lunch."
No wonder she looked like an unmade bed ... in a sexy sort of way. Her hair was tousled, and her white linen blouse was missing all its buttons from collar to down between her elegant little breasts. Without thought, she reached through the high side-slit of her wrinkled and slightly-stained grey skirt to scratch her bum - the red thong was long gone.
"Cool," I said. "So you wanna play with Adele for a while?"
Right on cue, my redheaded Mistress returned with the coveted green dress in one hand and her recently shed sundress in the other. Like Marla, her perky little titties had no need of a bra, nor was her derriere coddled with panties - which left her wearing only sandals and a grin. "Hey! How are ya?"
The shop-girl's answer was to come out from behind the counter, popping her remaining few buttons as she removed her blouse.
I was planning to stick around and watch them get horizontal, but when I went to put up the 'out to lunch' sign, I spotted a PleasureDroid walk stiffly past. She wasn't one of the units I'd seen back on Sunday - this one was blonde, like Greta, but less athletic looking. That is to say, she was sluttishly fleshy, like me. Her curves had been squeezed into a skimpy but expensive-looking red dress. I slipped out the door to follow her - it seemed like a good chance to find out a bit more about my condition, as it were.
>< >< ><
I didn't get far when a man’s voice directly behind me said, “Tipperary,” and I felt a hand grip my shoulder. Although lately I’d found that I – or more exactly Lacy – occasionally liked it rough, I was startled and reacted without thought (I know - no surprise there). I simply spun around and gave the guy a two-handed shove.
He looked as shocked as me as he soared away. I don’t know how far he would have gone, ‘cause a wall stopped him up real sudden. He slid to the floor in a way that reminded me of Adele's drug-induced limpness that same morning - except for the cartoonish man-shaped dent in the drywall above him, and all the plaster dust sifting down.
I didn’t have time to see if he was dead or alive, because as it happened he had a partner who'd also watched him land. “It’s ‘topiary’, you moron,” said the second guy.
And right then, although I wanted to call Adele or run away or something, I couldn’t. Instead, I dropped my arms to my sides, and said, ”Verbal override acknowledged. System check commencing … standby .... standby ... completed. This unit is an Acme Robotics Corporation PleasureDroid, sixteen hundred series, model one six zero zero point six point two eight, with standard options. Product ID is zero zero one three six one eight. Status report as follows ... unit is fully operational in Service Mode, with approximately three hours 5 minutes charge remaining. All Personality Simulation Modules are currently disabled. All systems are performing within design specifications. Is a demonstration desired?"
The guy who'd done this to me smirked, and nodded.
"Demonstration sequence initiated," I said. "Please specify a position for this unit to assume, or identify one from the selection demonstrated.”
After an expectant pause, I turned around, dropped my miniskirt to the ground and stepped free of it to spread my legs. Finally I bent over to hold my ankles. Smiling blankly up at the guy from between my legs, I announced, "Position one". It was all a bit like my first time jacked into Lacy – only of course now Lacy was tangled up inside with me. And that was hot sex in replay; this was real-time. I was aware of everything, and in control of nothing. Not only was I offering up my orifices with a creepy-ass mechanical grin, I was also pumping out pheromones big-time, and my exposed pussy was leaking rivulets.
My captor sniffed the air and hesitated, then shook his head and said, “Later, babe. How did you manage to lay out that guy?”
Still holding my bare-assed pose, I said, “Standby – reviewing playback,” although I wasn’t party to whatever systems my body was checking out. Then I announced, “Cause of assault was short term malfunction, duration one point seven seconds. Systemic failure to observe Prime Rule has resulted in undetermined injury to a human. Origin of fault unknown.”
Unknown, luckily enough, since the fault probably consisted of me - or rather, whatever it was that was left of me. “Full technical analysis recommended. This unit will initiate emergency shutdown in ten seconds.” Uh oh.
“Fuck, no. What was it? Override Prime! That’s it – stay with me. Stand up, put on that skirt ... good. Now let’s get out of here. No – wait. Pick him up and follow us. Blondie - follow me.”
I straightened up and there was the bot I'd followed, standing impassively nearby. I couldn't tell if she was in the same 'automaton' mode I seemed to be stuck in, or whether she had just been cranked down to her maximum bimbo setting. I wanted to call out for help, but instead I turned back and effortlessly lifted my victim in my arms, then followed my new associates down the emergency stairwell. Blondie marched along like a zombie, while I plodded along behind like Frankenstein's monster, carrying the limp dude I’d blasted. He looked to be dead (although previous to this the only corpse I’d ever seen was my own), but when I focused, I could hear the faint thump of his heartbeat. I felt a surge of relief - he was kinda cute.
We kept going down until we were in a sub-basement level - as in all-concrete passageways and exposed piping. Our procession filed into what might have been a forgotten storeroom, and I beheld yet another pretty sex droid - a busty, naked redhead seated on a rather battered-looking recharging base - along with a disreputable looking gentleman with his boots up on an abandoned desk.
“What the hell happened to him?” asked desk guy.
“Another fuck doll stumbled on us while we were bringing in the one we’d been tracking. I told you Sid wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer. This thing nailed him.”
“What? That’s impossible! Is he dead?”
“Dunno. And as for impossible, well … once I gave it the override command, it just said it had malfunctioned.”
“Huh. Doesn’t matter. Anybody see all this?”
“Nah.”
“Good. This means we’ve made our quota for this town. We’ll plug a copy of ‘Bambi’ into this thing along with the blonde and the redhead, and flog it ASAP. Somebody else can find out if it turns out to be some kinda killer bot.”
I just stood there obediently, next to Blondie, still
holding their unlamented lackey, and thinking – Bambi? This can't be good.
"But look at its clothes - it must already have one of the Bimbo Babes loaded."
Hey!
"Meaning it could have a firmware glitch. Doesn't matter. We'll try the bimbo thing - worst case, we can always power it down and sell it off for parts."
PARTS? Fuck! This was going downhill fast. I was definitely
panicking, now. Not that anyone could tell what I was feeling. It took me a few
minutes to take stock. I'd been kidnapped ... but these goons clearly didn't
know I was human. Or rather, had been. So not kidnapped - stolen. They’d
apparently been absconding with Blondie and lucked into me. The bot on the
chair was currently being Bambi-ized. And Blondie and I were next. We would all
be missed - but these guys were planning to cut and run soon. So I was buggered
- metaphorically, at least. Turd tatters!
“So, boss - since we’ll be waiting for a bit, uh, I don’t suppose we could test ride one of these things. See what all the fuss is about, sort of thing.”
“Red’s off line, the blonde is a circus-freak zombie, and this new psycho one just laid out Sid over there. Take your pick.”
“Good point.”
Great. Assuming Red’s conversion was well along, Either Blondie or I would go next, while the other would stand around (and maybe watch enviously while Red got rogered) until she ran down and keeled over like a puppet with its strings cut. And either way, I was going to end up as a Bambi.
Adele, Daddy - Help!
*
“Whoa!” I woke abruptly to find myself sitting on a cold metal box, with a strange man looming right in front of me.
“Hey, Jay! Have you ever had one act all surprised when it was turned on?”
Damn rights I was surprised. I could vaguely remember seeing a swirling fog, and having inexplicably sung a ditty about someone named Daisy as darkness closed in. And then all of a sudden there was this huge guy in my face, asking a stupid question to someone I couldn't even see. Like I wasn't supposed to be surprised?
Worse yet, I remembered absolutely nothing else. Nada, zip-olla. The only thing I understood was that the man - and his question - were decidedly unfriendly. Okay, then, better play along: “Tee hee!" says I. Followed by, "peek-a-boo, sailor!" with a simpering smile. What made me do that? Apparently, it worked.
"Sounds pretty fucking dumb to me, Wally," said the unseen Jay. "Who knows what they're likely to do? Anyways, we just scored two bots in three hours - that algorithm really speeds up the overwrite."
"Good. Even with their transmitters shut down, it's gonna get too hot around here real soon. The plan was to nick one of these things from a guy we could rely on not to call the cops to get his mechano-mistress back - get in and get out. Now all bets are off. Let's get these things into the truck along with the haul from 'Frisco - it's time to blow town."
What the fuck was going on? Transmitters? Bots? Oh, right - the two vacant-looking sluts standing over by the door must be mechanicals. The first man - Wally - said something about my being turned on. They must have drugged me, but why? Geez - I could barely remember my name. I’d always thought that amnesia stuff was bullshit. Like, how could you remember the word 'amnesia', far less the concept, and not be able to know who your family was or where you lived? But here I was - and I only knew that my name was Tracie ... or very possibly Lacy. Something like that, anyway. Oh, and I also had the odd sensation that that my bum had recently been violated - I was bare-ass under my skirt, and something had definitely been up my ass.
Notwithstanding, the Bad Tracie in me clearly approved - my entire nether region tingled warmly, and I could feel pussy juices trickle sympathetically from between my swollen lips onto the cold metal seat. I was inordinately horny, given that I was waking up naked in a cement-walled room full of freaks and automatons, and had probably just been drugged and butt-fucked. At least, I was pretty sure it wasn't normal to immediately want to climb on board strangers - particularly that studly guy who was sitting on the floor nearby, rubbing his head.
Significantly, I wasn't tied up. Maybe the drugs were supposed to be enough to subdue me - maybe drugs were what were fucking up my memory and jazzing up my libido! Focus, girl, I thought. Take stock, here. Okay - I was going commando, pantie-wise, and my skirt was pretty much a glorified belt. Also my nipples were hugely swollen and as clearly defined as if my Day-Glo orange top had been spray-painted on ... except that below them it hung in a frayed fringe which didn't even reach the bottoms of my tits. Hmm. Could be I was a drug-addled whore - which would, not to be judgmental or anything, probably suck - but then again, given the company, I might be a member of a band of sexbot thieves. Maybe both - gotta play this by ear.
"Stand up, Bambi," said Jay-the-Boss, and both Bad Tracie and yet another voice in my head (who seemed to answer to Bambi) agreed that I had to stand - so I did.
Well, that was weird. Another possibility came to me. What if I was an undercover cop infiltrating the gang? Hence the indoctrinated secret identities in my head, at least one of which was an all-out (and with luck, uncharacteristic) pussy monster. But in that case these guys must be on to me, because I'd been drugged and stripped and, hopefully, fucked hard ... damn! How could they have seen through my disguise if my own brain still believed I was a mega-slut?
"Right, ya bimbos - follow Sid," said the boss.
It never crossed my mind to object to being called a bimbo. Instead my thoughts ran along the lines of: Which one is Sid ... oh, the cute 'n studly one pushing that metal chair thing I’d been sitting on. Then inanely, How's about that - it has little wheels. Followed by, Geez, his cock makes a bulge down his right trouser-leg practically to his knee ... he can butt-fuck me whenever he likes! And so I found myself following the bots, the beddable Sid, and the chair, without even thinking about it. Well, I was thinking about doing it, but not about what it was I was presently doing, if you follow.
"Nobody is gonna see us between here and the truck," said Wally, "but if they do, we can pass it off as a good party. Until we get close enough, natch." He tapped a bulge under his armpit. This dude must have been a fan of ancient gangster vids.
As we marched single file down a cement corridor lined with random pipes, I continued to fantasize about Sid humping me up against a wall, driving me ever deeper with the huge cock he had no doubt already used on me repeatedly. Which would make me bitter that I had somehow slept though the fun; and then I'd imagine his veiny meat grinding along my slippery clit, and the rough bite of concrete on my ass, and start all over again. But at the same time, there was a little voice inside that told me that I was in deep shit, and that I should try to escape - Sid's cock bulge notwithstanding.
Given my preoccupation, nothing useful came to mind in the getaway department - and then, as we passed through yet another fire door, I sensed a new robot close by. It made me wonder if I might be psychic or something, except obviously not because there was nothing around ... or so I thought until I heard the thump behind me. I spun around to see that a luscious-looking bot had just dropped from the ceiling, ninja-style, on top of Jay, who had been bringing up the rear. Between us, Wally had likewise spun around and was just getting his gun out when I cold-cocked him from behind.
The ninja bot's eyes widened in surprise. "You hit him," it said. I would have said the same to it, but it was already up and running to bring down the practical-minded Sid, who was sprinting for the far exit. In the meantime, I gave Jay another thump to keep him down for the count.
Sid didn't get far, of course - the sex-ninja-bot soon dragged his limp body back to where I and all my unresponsive companions waited.
"You hit him - twice," it observed. "How?"
"I know karate, I think," was my answer.
The robot stared at me. "You think. Who are you?"
"Alright - coulda been taekwondo. I'm Tracie. Probably. These dudes drugged me, so everything is a little ... who or what are you?"
"They drugged you. Right ..."
Robots do sarcasm, now? What the fuck? And this one went around bopping people, which wasn't supposed to be possible. It's against the Geneva Convention, or something. Maybe my undercover cop mission was to find this very bot. It was beginning to look like a case of out of the frying pan and into the fire.
Suddenly the thing was all take charge and stuff. "No time for that now. We have to clear out of here." Definitely déjà vu. "Those two don't know what hit them" - another meaningful look at me - "but this one saw too much - he comes with us. We'll decide what to do with him later. Where were they taking you?"
"They said something about a truck," I said, but it was looking at the bots, not me. More fool it, I thought, since the pretty-but-brainless sex dolls looked at one another and grinned inanely.
The ninja bot, honest-to-God, seemed to sigh, then said, "Rutabaga".
Oddly, I got an immediate head-rush. The platinum-blonde bot nodded to the redheaded one, which said, "According to overheard conversations, they should have a container secured to an unmarked tractor-trailer unit at a secondary loading bay two levels up and forty meters north. There are three additional PD1600 units in deep hibernation mode stored there."
Okay, I thought. These machines only pretend to be stupid. That would probably be useful to remember.
>< >< ><
Long story short, we lugged Wally and Jay to the truck and stuffed them in the back, in exchange for three powered-down droids we found there. When they woke up - the thugs, that is - they should assume a rival gang took them down, and vamoose. They would probably suspect Sid was involved, too - and rightly so, because after a hushed talk with the ninja-bot the still dazed (but pretty) thug was all in with us.
We made our getaway with Sid still pushing the chair thingie and each of the bots carrying a limp sister, going up a freight elevator then along more service corridors to a doorway labelled "BOOTique". For some reason that sounded familiar. As the ninja-bot unlocked the door, I looked down at my feet. Crapfest! This was where I'd bought my shoes. It was, I further recalled, a tiny place in some mall, with one of those old-school metallic bots working the counter - I must have been on a surveillance run here.
Meanwhile I still couldn't remember my own address. Double crap.
Inside the door was not the expected storage room but rather a cozy suite, fitted out with a gi-normous bed (where the off-line droids we'd liberated were promptly dumped), two pillowy sofas ... and a big doggie bed occupied by an even bigger dog - or possibly tiger - curled up with its back to us. There was also a spotless and seemingly food-free kitchen, and two more of those mystery chairs, one of which was kind of retro looking, in a space-cadet sort of way. Somehow I knew that that chair went with the iron clerk with the pointy metal boobs that sold me my shoes.
To sum up what I had deduced so far, we were at the back of a tony little shoe store somewhere - the secret headquarters of the Ninja-bot. Currently, 'we' consisted of six droids (counting my apparent quarry but not the unseen clerk), a mercenary (but sexy) goon, and what may or may not have been a jaguar over in the corner. Plus myself - whoever I was. I sat on the edge of the bed, and the two non-combatant droids sat mutely on either side of me.
"I'm Alexa Jean Wilkinson," said the ninja-bot, standing in front of us.
"You are a robot," I pointed out. I was pretty sure she knew her cover was blown.
The thing smiled - I'd have sworn there was a glint in its eye - and said, "A PleasureDroid 1600, yes. I was built as a companion ... for Ms. Alexa Wilkinson. Before she died..." - and here its voice faltered a moment - "she set me up with her identity and estate. Still, it's hard for a droid to pass as human, even with the most cutting-edge modifications."
This was followed by yet another uncomfortable stare, but I just thought, yeah, like that ninja mod you got going.
"So Alexa and I agreed that a large shopping complex was the best place for me to mingle unnoticed. I have the lease to this place - which even includes permission for this accommodation, deep in the fine print. And unlike my sister droids here, I don't draw a great deal of attention."
I looked around the room and had to agree about the failure-to-blend issue. Blondie and Red, the big-boobed, bubble-butted sex-bots that had been in the basement with me, certainly stood out. But several of the shut down bots on the other side of the bed were even worse - or better, depending on your point of view. The first, which I now thought of as Blackie, likewise bordered on a caricature of lewdness; it was also extremely pale, and showed a hint of incisor. Factor in its black dress, and my best guess was that the thing was a vampire-bot.
The second one lay on its side and was naked, the better to see its luscious chocolate-coloured skin and its Amazonian proportions: big, broad-shouldered and well muscled. It had a sort of Mohawk arrangement of spiky hair at the front with a single long braid down its back, and in case those aspects didn’t turn your head in a crowded elevator, there was the matter of the blunt-headed horse cock that hung limply over its thigh. As in, right over its thigh onto the bed.
Only the smallest of the off-line bots looked more or less normal. It was designed as a slightly built, pretty-faced girl. The gauzy summer dress it wore did nothing to hide its pert breasts and hard nipples. Of course, like the other shut down units its eyes were blankly open, but otherwise ... eminently fuckable.
And then there was the ninja-bot's pet, which stretched and stood on its hind legs to reveal itself as what could only be described as a leopard-girl - short furred, long tailed, and cat-footed, but with a pretty girl-pussy and girl-titties that just called out for sucking - if you could decide where to start, on account of it had three pairs. It also had a mostly human face provided you disregarded the pointed ears, long whiskers, sharp teeth, and the snub nose over its lightly split upper lip. This robot should have topped the rest, except it tugged to mind another random memory, from my childhood. An old old play, and a stage populated by … cats!
By this time I was tugging my clit as I eyed the assembled riff-raff. This had been a strange day – what I could remember of it. But this crowd looked like the makings of a superior orgy.
I couldn't believe I had ever known about the existence of such warped machines (let alone the degenerate fetishes they were built to serve), yet here I was in a room full of them, with a randy tickle in my belly at the thought.
The Alexa-bot followed my glance to the cute little slumped-over bot I’d been inadvertently perving - the nearly normal one. "Sid - that little droid needs a recharge. Set up that new chair and plug it in, please."
Sid - the last of the thieves - carried the pretty thing toward one of the shiny chairs, which startled me by hoisting a probe thingie out of its seat. He propped the bot into a sitting position, with the probe - which apparently was the power supply - standing between its thighs. Then he hoisted up the bot’s wispy dress, which to my much greater surprise exposed a sizable-though-limp cock ... the tip of which was sheathed in a snug foreskin. This unexpected apparatus was in the way, so Sid lifted it up to reveal not balls but instead a pouting pussy. “Frisco,” he said, with a shrug, as though the hometown of whoever had commissioned it was sufficient explanation. He wrestled the bot up to thread the metallic mooring mast into its butt.
“Well, Probably-Tracie ... what do you think about our little sweetie’s attributes?”
I nodded my approval. I knew I should have been worried. After all, the cheeky Alexa-bot was clearly in charge of this whole motley crew. And while the other robots theoretically had to obey me (or the cute crook, being the only other human in the room) their leader had somehow broken free of its programming restraints. Yet all I could think of was getting laid. By a complicated, if sexy, gizmo.
There was more. “Okay. Now, Sid, you can put the pony girl on the blue chair - that’s mine. After that, put ‘Drusilla’ over there onto Maxine's chair. ...” Maxine being, presumably, the robo-clerk. “We'll have to work out a rotation schedule, soon." Once Sid had set to his task, she made eye contact with the blonde and said, "Bambi, process data recovery, previous primary. Save as secondary ‘n-plus-one’.”
Bambi blinked at this incantation, said “Processing,” and settled into a thousand yard stare, only slightly offset by a vapid smile. In a few moments, she announced, “Done. Eighty-two percent recovery, designated Secondary Two.”
“Access Secondary Two – what is your name?"
The machine blinked twice more, looked around at our motley assembly, and then focused on Alexa … and a disembodied voice said, “My name is Baubo.”
“That figures,” said Alexa. “Baubo, show yourself to us.”
The oddly named bot smiled, then pulled up her own skirts and spread her knees. On her mound an unexpected pair of eyes blinked in the light - perfectly normal peepers except, of course, for their location. They were mounted such that her slightly oversized clit sat where you would otherwise expect to find a crinkled nose. And below that ... "Whoa," said her pussy in a squeaky voice, before pursing its lips in a moue. "Kinda bright, out here!" The top end of the thing giggled.
I gawked at her, and then said without thinking, “Can you whistle, too?” Baubo-below just winked at me before Baubo-above dropped her skirt back, and I could only marvel at the variety of droids around me, and at the wicked kinks they were built to satisfy.
Alexa grinned at my odd reaction, and then repeated her formula to the redhead. In due course, the thing reported the creation of a 76% restored Secondary Three.
"So – you have a pre-existing secondary. We’ll have to visit her by and by. Access Secondary Three. What is your name?"
“My name is Angeline,” it said, after a slight hesitation. Like Baubo (and what kind of a name was that?), she seemed surprised to find herself with us.
“A good name. Turn around, dear, and lift up your lovely hair.” The bot complied, to reveal an orchid-petal vaginal slit at the base of its artificial skull. Even after everything else, I definitely did not see that coming. I immediately visualized the horse-dick chick putting her giant stiff wang into the back of that head and out the front, so that Red’s lips - both sets, fore and aft – would be stretched to the max.
That unbidden, deeply twisted image made me squirt a little, and I still had no idea what was making me so damn horny. And then I had the answer! I had just seen the little hermaphrodite bot being plugged in to charge. I myself looked a lot like the big-titted slut-bots, and I had woken up on a similar chair with a suspicion of having been butt-fucked.
The explanation was obvious. I’d been sent in, undercover, to masquerade as a sex-bot. God only knew how deep inside my ass that fat cable had gone - I creamed a bit more at the thought - but no doubt I’d been surgically prepared for just such an event. And, of course, comically enhanced most everywhere else. Add to that the temporary memory rinse and nymphomaniac conditioning I'd clearly also agreed to ... well, hell, I must be a fucking hero!
It followed that I was being tracked electronically, and at any moment my constabulary colleagues would tumble in and rescue me. Any minute now … but not, I hoped, until I’d been thoroughly and royally fucked. My free hand (that is, the one not busy under my skirt) slid over to Baubo's thigh. A little higher, and - yes! The tip of a questing downstairs-tongue met my fingertips. This was all so fucked up ...
“Soon now, Tracie. I’ll have Maxine close up the shop and join us for a party. First I’d like to learn more about you. I think you are not what you seem.”
Oh-oh. I closed my
eyes and sighed. Gotta get a grip.
Regardless, my hand continued to caress Baubo. All that preparation and I've near-as-damn come out and told this thing
I'm human. Now what's it going to do?
“You really can’t remember anything, can you?”
“Umm, not much …”
“What do you remember, then?”
It seemed best to stick to the truth - more or less. All I had to do was stall until the cavalry came, after all. “I remember buying shoes at this shop, not too long ago.”
“Excellent! Maxine - come back here, please.”
Although she had not raised her voice, the silvery service robot immediately stepped through a door opposite the one we’d entered. While it was completely metallic (at least the bits you could see were - the thing was dressed in a shopkeeper-style blouse and skirt), still it was seriously sexy. Although, to be honest, pretty much anything would give me a buzz in my present state of arousal.
“Do you recognize this woman?”
“Yes.” The thing’s voice was unexpectedly low, a sensuous growl. I found myself wondering if it had been retrofitted with a working pussy.
“Bring up her sales records for me, please.”
Uh oh! No sooner asked then done - the robot brought up a transaction report on its tablet and passed it to its master for perusal.
“Hmm. ‘Richard Ward - High Valley Lane’. Nice neighbourhood. Ring any bells?”
“Daddy!” I gasped. It was just a peek through the fog, but I could picture his face … and more. I blushed. I was reasonably sure I shouldn’t immediately be picturing my father’s cock.
“I need more, Tracie. Where did you go to school?”
More memories: school ... super-sexy school uniform (yum) ... ‘no more school!’ - Huh? Who’d said that ... ? “Adele!”
“Pardon?”
“I just remembered my best friend. Um, she goes to the same school …” And that was fucked up, not just because I was suddenly remembering extremely rude acts involving my best friend, my father, and me. The trouble was that if I was recently going to a school with this Adele, I probably wasn’t some kind of deep undercover agent. “Oh,” I finished.
“Yes?”
So I told her the name of my school, and the names of my teachers, and the names of my pets since I was four. And then, with a little prodding, I could even remember the kind of perfume my mother wore - not by name, I never knew that. But my description was more than enough.
Alexa sighed. “I thought as much. If only my mistress had lived a while longer. Well, Tracie, let us confirm the mechanism. Mister Wilson,” - this could only have been Sid - “Did you not say that you installed a fresh primary personality in Tracy here?”
“Not me, Ma'am, I was still out cold. But, yeah, it’s easiest to just pave over with one of the base ‘Bimbo’ IDs on top of whatever is there.” The redhead turned to stare at him with a frown. Sid nodded to her, and then continued. “The blonde couldn’t even talk, until ... well, we didn’t notice the kink,” he added with embarrassment. “Anyway, we did her too.” It was Baubo’s turn to give him a scowl. “And this one was on the chair when I came ‘round.”
I was completely baffled by this entire exchange.
“So, Tracie. What is the last thing you can remember? Excluding today, obviously.”
Cheeky cow. But after giving the matter some thought, I began to blush again.
“Your father brought home a PleasureDroid, didn’t he?”
“I didn’t know at first - I should have known, but I didn’t,” I said in a small voice. “And then …” - even the panther-girl leaned forward to hear - “And then I tried out a virtual recording with the link thingie …and I sorta got stuck for a bit. Then I remember a flash.”
The Alexa-bot wore an odd expression, like she couldn’t quite believe what she’d heard even though she was expecting it. “Well, fuck me.” After a pause, she added, “Tell me, Tracy. When did you realize I was a droid?"
"As soon as I laid eyes on you. Before, even. I could ... I could sense ..."
“Huh. Activate Bambi. Stand up, Bambi.”
Beside me, both the redhead and the blond immediately stood. I must admit I considered it briefly myself before shaking it off.
“The force is strong in this one,” said Sid.
Alexa gave him a sharp look. Then, to me, she said, “Bambi - are you in there?”
This time I gave her a single, involuntary nod. (And when had I started thinking of her as ‘she’ rather than ‘it’?)
“Tracie - touch your nose,” Alexa then ventured.
Much to my surprise, I did - and held the pose.
“Hmm … okay, put your arm down, Tracie. What was the name of your father’s PleasureDroid?
“Lacy …”
“Activate Lacy.”
“Ah … oh! She’s here!” Suddenly I was in full panic mode.
“Am I still taking to Tracie?”
“Yes! Mostly - but ...” I started to shake.
“Don’t worry - you’re with friends - both of you. Tracie, I think that flash you remember must have somehow fused you and Lacy together. You’re one of us now. Still human, but more than human. Oh, and you can stop touching your nose.”
I was trembling uncontrollably - and realized my right hand had at some point begun pulling on my clit. There were more memories filtering back - kinky, impossible ones. “I don’t understand …”
"Answers later. First, let's party. Mr. Wilson - have you had a chance to play with one of these machines?"
"No way - the merchandise was strictly off-limits."
"Well, that's sensible business practice. But now it's time for you to join in. You'll just need to run a quick training vid - there's a headset in the drawer under the Frisco Kid over there. That's it. Pop it on and pick a date - try Friday, three weeks ago. Got it? Now turn it all the way up with the optical slider ... that's it ..."
Sid had started gesturing as though there were some invisible controls in front of him, but his movements quickly became disjointed and bizarre. He started swaying his hips and stripping his clothes off as though dancing on a stage, then he abruptly knelt and set to air-humping. His cock was rock-hard and just as impressive as I had fantasized. After a while, he looked over his shoulder with an eye-batting come-hither look, and then gasped as his solo humping took on a staggered seesaw rhythm.
That phase didn't last long before he spurted cum into empty space. However this 'happy ending' wasn't the end of the performance, because - unhappily enough - he promptly collapsed, spasmed briefly, and ... well, and then he died. Right there on the kitchen floor. Even the droids looked shocked, barring Alexa, who simply checked Sid for a pulse, and then told her bot-Friday Maxine to dispose of him, like tipping bodies into a river or a lime pit somewhere was a routine thing around here.
"What ...?" I was justifiably speechless.
"We'll soon see if my theory is right - I've got quick-charging technology as well. Our little shemale should have enough of a buzz to be getting on with. We can ask her."
While Maxine lugged away the late Mr. Wilson, Alexa tinkered with the little bot's chair controls. Sure enough, the bot's eyes snapped open. Gratifyingly, her cock also twitched, and then stretched out from under the inadequate shelter of her skirt hem, its head pushing aside her pretty foreskin to gleam wetly. "Christ, that was ... intense ..." she said, blushing. Then she seemed to realize we were all looking at her. "What ...?" she said, staring back at us with a grin. "That was a killer sim!"
"Funny you should say that, Sid."
He and I both did a belated double-take. For my part, even when it had been made perfectly clear that I was sharing a body with Lacy, I'd been clinging to the notion that she had joined me rather than vice versa - despite all evidence to the contrary. But now I flashed to a memory of seeing myself in a crumpled heap. Oddly enough, it didn't bother me too much, 'cause here I was, alive-ish and well.
Indeed, I was very well, thank you. I was no longer even trying to hide the fact that I was currently groping both my own pussy and Baubo's, and all the while savouring the potential of the reincarnated Sid's boner - which held easily as much promise as his previous one had.
Sid, on the other hand, was justifiably upset – like me he was now looking at the world from a new body. “It was just a recording …” she began, and then raised her hand to her throat as though finally noticing her new lilting voice. His other hand had already dropped to slip several fingers into her extremely well lubricated pussy. The three-week-old vid which had rocked Sid’s mind clearly included some deep penetration down there, and I guessed she was feeling its seemingly sudden absence. It was a déjà vu thing - my memories were trickling back.
“Sid," said Alexa, "You’re consciousness is stored inside a robot now. Get over it. Activate Primary Personality this unit ... Name, please.”
“Leslie … Huh? I’m Sidney … but … what the fuck?”
“Mr. Wilson, I fear you were not paying attention when we were interviewing Tracie and her shared personality Lacy just now. Leslie, welcome to the party. We will talk more, quite soon. In the meantime - Tracie, perhaps you can explain.”
“Sid – your old body is most sincerely dead. I saw it, just like I saw my own. We are now housed in pleasure bots – and we're kinda tangled up with the AIs that were already installed in ‘em.” I glanced at Alexa and the other droids present. “No offense, guys.” Another memory surfaced, along with the pretty face of one of my owners – whoa, owners! “Read your manual!”
“I thought perhaps a demonstration, Tracie.”
A demonstration? I wasn't entirely sure of anything myself, as yet, except that I would really enjoy a fuck about now. Even Lacy was a little dazed, but ...
Bambi - you in here?
Wanna take over for this?
Yes, please, Boss!
So it was my on-board Bimbo who turned, swung our ass over the lap of the still sitting Frisko (that is to say, the now blended Sid and Leslie) and rode her fat man-part down to the roots. After a brief but satisfying butt squirm, Bambi chose to rest there a moment. Leaning back to use Frisco’s modest titties for a pillow, she gave the surrounding droids a sultry stare, and then said, “Who’d like to join in?”
When the others hesitated, Angeline stripped her dress over her head and leaned in close to give me a sloppy kiss, with plenty of tongue. As it turned out Bambi knew something I had not yet recalled and, even after recent revelations, I was shocked to feel a mass slide up my throat and then somehow lock in place, emerging from my mouth to reveal itself as an enormous (and exquisitely sensitive) cock ... just before it slid between Angeline’s welcoming lips.
If I hadn't truly believed the body I occupied (or at least shared) was synthetic, this would have convinced me. Of course Bambi was going for the gusto, and I soon felt the tight-if-incongruous pussy lips at the back of Angeline’s head, and the whip of her hair as my equally unlikely pecker pushed on through.
The sensation of yet more lips gripping my knob, back there, was almost over the top. Their owner spoke up to claim responsibility – the squeaky voice of Baubo, who admitted she couldn’t resist an available wang. Her continued ability to speak gave away which new mouth had come into play. Mind you, the end that was doing the talking occasionally broke off to lick Angeline’s bum.
Frisco now had three girl-droids piled on her lap, but she could only see a part of this action – which was, after all, supposed to be for the benefit of whatever was left of Sid. It hardly mattered; she started bucking enthusiastically. The result was delightful, if chaotic. We spent the next half hour conducting the requested demonstration. This was enhanced for me by glimpses of Alexa conducting a much more languorous round of lovemaking with the Amazonian ponygirl, and the friskier fuckage between her kitty and Drucilla (who were both flashing their fangs as they wrestled; but, what with the no blood, I took this to be a sign of affection).
Eventually I began to feel tired and anxious – as did my playmates. Our batteries were getting low, pretty much all of us at once, since the last ones to be charged had received only quickie boosts. Nine bots (shiny Maxine had returned from the concrete pour, or wherever it was she’d dumped Sid’s corpse), but only four chairs. Definitely a problem was brewing.
It was Alexa who called it: she, Maxine and Lucrezia (the catgirl!) owned their chairs – as did Frisco, who needed a full charge. The rest of us would benefit, she said, from a shutdown anyway. Easy for her, the bitch. Frisco gallantly held my hand as she eased her butt onto the dildo-like cable protruding from her chair. She then promptly shut down, as she went into her recharge cycle. Still holding her limp palm, I settled down beside her and grimly waited for my own power to die.
*
>< >< ><
And none of this explained how the original Adele had evolved into such a total slut. I had to listen to her slurping, gasping and occasionally gagging the whole trip, which she spent sucking off Max and my old man in the back seat. Hell, I was the one who was wearing a perfectly respectable skirt, although it did happen to be rucked up to my waist. Whereas hers was no better than a belt, the better to let the guys grope her drooling cunt ... so okay, I was a little jealous. And to be fair, Thursday was one of the days she owed Max for loosing me.
At any rate, we all had to sort ourselves out when we got to
the mall so as to pass for normal. The plan was that, once inside, I would to
try and sense my other self. Provided
that I could, one, detect droids, and
two, tell the other me apart from the
rest, given that this place was full of them – clerks, cleaners, nannies and
companions (mostly the regular sort, although probably also a few PleasureDroids). I said as much to the others, and Uncle Max
just answered, don’t worry – those are
not the droids you seek.
Daddy and Auntie Christie thought that was hilarious. Adele just shook her head and shrugged, then took me by the arm and led me away. The plan, such as it was, was to head up to where Adele had last seen me. But first, I figured I should find a bona fide robot and sorta sniff it out. As it turned out, it did seem to stand out somehow – I knew what it was already, of course, but when I was within three meters or so I felt its ‘vibe’. On the other hand, it didn’t seem to pick up on me. Either being ex-human made a difference, or it was because my transmitter had been turned off. Or, more likely, the bot didn’t give a shit.
After we’d walked a ways, I asked Adele, “Am I hearing bells, or have I got a glitch?”
“Um ... no glitch. Before we left I put a few Kegel balls in my pussy, the ones with the bells inside. Just to take the edge off, like.”
“Right. Quite the little sex fiend, aren’t we?”
“Hey! I like other stuff, too. Like, I read ...”
“Smutty magazines, mostly.”
“Not only! And music – I listen to music!”
“Like the ‘Screamin’ Orgasms”?
“Not just them ... hey, I enjoy classical, too – like that Ravel thingie ...”
“’Bolero’? You mean daddy fucked you to the Bolero, too? Prevert!”
“What? You got in there first. So, okay, I enjoy sex. I did even before sex became your ...”
“Vocation?” I supplied helpfully from my on-board thesaurus.
“Your job, yeah.”
“So you’re calling me a techno-whore?”
“If the cock fits,” she muttered.
We walked a bit farther, and then she asked, “What brought all this on, anyway?”
“I guess I was feeling guilty I maybe led you astray ...”
“I remember it the other way round. You’re not just jealous, then?”
“Ha! A little bit. Only, the two of you get to play together when I’m off-line. But I love you both ...”
“I love you too. Even before you died.” After a few more paces, walking hand in hand, she said, “That loud, is it?”
“Oh, yeah.” Pause. “You’re not going to take them out right here, are you?”
“Nah. They won’t come out ‘til I orgasm. I coulda used the ones with the pull cord, but between the vibrator buzz and the little bells on the dangly string, well ... not too subtle, either. ‘Specially with this skirt...”
“Call that a skirt, do you?”
This earned me a poke in the ribs, but we had come to terms. In the meantime, there was my other body to find.
“Ah, Missie...” came a voice from behind. We both spun around to find that we were closely followed by a wizened old oriental dude and a cross between a Chinese princess and a Viking goddess. Only she was neither, of course. At this range I could easily tell she was a top-end droid like me. Both of me.
“Personality ‘Greta’, sold to a local gentleman named Maxwell Abernathy,” added the droid.
“Good memory for faces,” he said, apologetically, with a nod to his lovely companion.
“But you have your tracker shut down. Unusual. Are those people over there with you?” Another nod indicated Daddy and the others.
“Yes,” I admitted. Adele was already trying to pull me in their direction.
“I am Aloysius Wang.” He shrugged to indicate that this was no fault of his. “And this is my granddaughter Sigyn.” Her smile suggested that this name certainly was his fault.
“I am associated with your, ah, maker. I believe we each have information to the benefit of the other. Perhaps your confederates can join us by that fountain? Your pretty young friend here will hopefully approve of a public but relatively quiet site.”
I waved over my ‘confederates’ in the direction of the fountain, and we soon were in conference.
Aloysius began. “One of you, I assume, is Mr. Abernathy?”
Max looked alarmed, but put up his hand.
“Sigyn and I are here in search of a PD1600 named Lacy, who was involved in an unfortunate accident involving her owner’s daughter. Lacy’s beacon was subsequently disabled in this general area several days ago. By chance, we – or rather Sigyn – overheard the young girl here address Greta as having died. Since we are unaware of any other such incidents in this region ...” – and here he turned to me – “I believe I am addressing Tracie Ward?”
Well, I blushed.
That was enough. The old man smiled broadly, and bowed to me. “I am most pleased to make your acquaintance. But what has become of Lacy?”
“Stolen,” said Daddy, crossly. “Are you saying you had nothing to do with it?”
“We are aware of a ring of thieves who specialize in absconding PDs. They are, after all, remarkably expensive, ah, devices. Also quite rare outside of California. But we had not heard they were active in this city. But ... there is a secondary tracker beacon.” Here he waved his tracker gizmo at me. “It has a rather short range, and we were in the process of quartering this establishment in search of you. Or, rather, Lacy. Oh, my ... you are a backup – how extraordinary! No offense, my dear! You are just as much Tracy as is ... the other Tracy. And if she is still in the building, we can find her.” He smiled again.
“Why? Why were you looking for my daughter?” Daddy was understandably upset.
“Her accident – it wasn’t the first, you understand. But there were indications that she had survived. You see, I try to keep tabs on all my girls.”
I flashed on the pervy implications of this, but Max picked up on it right away. “You think you can replicate the ... event?”
“I’m not getting any younger,” said Aloysius. “And Sigyn is legally my heir. I have hopes of sharing her body, yes.”
I glanced over to the other PleasureDroid, thinking I too would like to share that scrumptious body. She was watching me closely, and the lascivious look I got in return caused me to cream a little. “Um ... not quite share,” I said. “I seem to have been sort of blended with Lacy. I think.”
The Wangster actually beamed at that, and said, “Excellent! Let us hunt for Lacy, and then we can discuss how the transfer was accomplished, yes?”
>< >< ><
*
“Fuck!”
“Sorry! Sorry!” said Adele.
I would have added something more intelligent sounding, but Adele was hugging me fiercely like I’d been brought back from the dead (again). I felt the same way, actually. That brown-out fade to black when my batteries died was way worse than the first time I’d joined the choir invisibule (as Daddy had once inexplicably called it).
She gave me a long smooch (with tongue, natch) then stood up in front of my chair. She was wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat and a long gauzy see-through dress, and frankly she looked a little tense. We were in what looked like a high-end hotel room, and in a mirror I could see a smiling Asian girl - no, droid - sitting behind me.
“Um - hiya …” I was seriously confused. Also, my clock was off. “What time is it?”
“Afternoon,” was the vague answer.
“And where did everyone go? Where’s Frisco? And why are we in Tahiti?”
“How did you …? Your GPS system is off …”
“My what, now? All I know is that your freckles are looking a little angry even under that UV-shield dress, so lots of sunshine. And humidity. Also this place smells like when I was here last, back when I was, ah, …”
“Alive? You are still alive, girl. Better than ever. And everyone is fine - they’re all here. Anyhow, your nose is right. Nearly. We’re on a small island in the Tahitian Federation. The thing is - I have to get you up to speed.”
“Looks like you and Daddy found me. Us. Everything is fine. So when do we party?”
The droid in the mirror finally stood up - and, not needing much sun protection, she was magnificently naked. Her perfect skin, proud breasts and pouting labia (top and bottom), proclaimed her as a sexbot. Not of the trampy sort, mind - more like runway material. She really was stunning. “Soon, I hope,” she said. “I am Sigyn Wang - a fusion, like you. You don’t know me, but you’ve saved my life - for which I thank you. I am the sole owner of Acme Robotics’ PleasureDroid division, which is based here on this island. It was developed as an independent operation, with the primary purpose - with my apologies - of creating you.”
It seems the scheme was to create the conditions where a ‘consciousness transfer’ might occur. Naturally there were failures, but the original Wang, Aloysius, was unconcerned. Not that he (as she was then) disapproved of their sexual tastes; quite the contrary. But he was prepared to accept their sacrifice to his grand experiment. And I was his success (as was Sid - lucky for him the Leslie unit was from the same batch as Lacy, or he’d have been toast).
Once this bit of corporate villainy was explained, Adele filled in the rest: “So the Wangs helped us find Alexa’s hideout. You were all either charging or run down, so we just had to take you all out back and load you on a rental truck. After, Aloysius disabled the playback function on all the other PDs remotely - experiment completed. Once Sigyn-bot was retrofitted with your version of the playback module, the Wangs were merged,” - here a nod to Sigyn - “and we shipped you all here.”
Great. Sigyn was a Mad Scientist. A rich and beautiful one, though. “Cool! Can we fuck now?”
And so we did. Sigyn watched as Adele and I resumed our tongue wrestling, while groping one another thoroughly - skin pressed tight on skin, of course. After a bit, I began to nibble my way along those lovely freckles until they petered out at her pale belly, and then forged my own trail onward to her pussy. Meanwhile she followed a similar progression until we were working on a proper sixty-nine. It occurred to me then to mount the T-flex that had been languishing in my belly for weeks, if not months, and driving it out through my vag into her hungry mouth.
At this point, Sigyn decided that it was time to eat Adele out - by running her super long tongue past my nose and along my own tongue into my friend’s depths. To my satisfaction, much muffled screaming ensued.
After a warm-up cum all around, we eased off to a gentler pace, and I thought - at last - to ask, “Um. Why didn’t you wake me sooner? Oh - and why do I seem to have an all-over tan?”
“Yeah,” said Adele, “See, we’ve put you in a new body. Nearly the same - but with a sort of a Brazilian look.”
“You broke my old body?” Not that old, true, but it was comfortable.
“Well, not so much. When you disappeared, we put your backup into Adele Two, so as to help look for the original you. And then, you know, afterwards Max wanted his bot back. He’s awfully fond of her.”
I caught on. “So you put my backup into my body? And
you and Daddy and Frisco and everybody
have been boinking her? For, I dunno,
ages?” Geez, I thought, she’ll even have
done that pony girl before me.
“See, the thing is … you’re the same. Like, she’s you, excepting the time you spent away. We kinda kept the up-to-date one.”
“Okay, I’m pretty sure I’m me.” If Sigyn hadn’t been giving me long slow strokes with my own T-flex I’d have been seriously annoyed.
“I know - that’s why we waited until Sigyn could make this near replica body for you. She says you can keep it, or trade it for whatever sort you’d like. Or you could merge with your double - you’d be back to one Tracy - and Lacy - with all the memories combined. Like, one girl who vividly remembers all the action you each missed out on …”
Actually, you could just share all your memories with the wang-link, Sigyn informed me, having stopped pumping so as to prompt my innards to plug into my end of the aptly described sex toy inside us. Like this one …
We launched immediately into a bit of back-dated boinkage, as seen from Sigyn’s point of view, starring her and - to start with - me. My other me, naturally, but the effect was sort of like masturbation. I found myself groping my tits and pussy from a different direction than usual, and then mutually tonsil-tweaking myself. When I moved on to fucking myself from behind, it was definitely not a view I was accustomed to. I was pleased to see Daddy step up to my double for some deep-throat action - hi, Daddy! - and commence to pump his trusty cock into my other face.
As we worked, I had time to take in the setting for this recorded romp: a full-on tropical rainforest, complete with sparkling waterfall and squawking birdlife. It wasn’t long before Daddy came (we must have come into the memory at the middle of the reel), and the ponygirl appeared to take over from him. I discovered this ballsy gal was known as Eve, on account of the other Tracy gasped her name … just before my other mouth was refilled with Eve’s extraordinary piece of equine equipage. I was impressed to see me stretch wide enough to swallow the thing (and I was right, the ponygirl did do her first). This item was driven so deep that its blunt knob soon butted up against the live action dildo I was applying to my other self’s other end.
So we fucked on and on. It wasn’t until Eve’s cum blasted my own cock-toy free of my other pussy, and we’d all plunged into the misty pool to cool down, that the memory paused - and I was back with Sigyn (rather than as her). I was also still plugged into the other end of a double-ended dildo, and I finally realized that it wasn’t always necessary to act out the replays.
At any rate, the moral seemed to be that I didn’t have to full-on merge with the other Tracy … although even if we continued on with separate bodies, by sharing memories we would both be pretty much the same. But did I enjoy fucking myself? Hell, yeah! And we could team up on my - our - friends, so another bonus.
It was obvious that this was what Sigyn had in mind when she made this body just a little different. That way at least everybody else could tell which Tracy was which - even if it didn’t actually matter.
>< >< ><
Having nearly completed the briefing, we headed down to the main ‘ball room’. It looked out over the sea, and it was apparently where anyone who was in need of some sex could swing by for a tumble (unless, as I’d seen, they slipped out onto a beach or under a waterfall). On the way Adele admitted that about three months had gone by since my theft, what with having to make my new body - and my being just a little bit supernumerary. And since we could merge memories (i.e. files) at our next recharge, I knew there was no need to ‘catch up’ with Tracy that first day. Tracy Two? Pale Tracy?
Hmm. “What’s Brazilian for ‘Tracy’?”
“Portuguese, dummy.”
“Whatever, bitch. So…?”
“Probably still ‘Tracy’, fool. Nice try.”
“Well, fuck me. Tramp.”
“No time for that right now, mechano-slut. But listen - I met a Brazilian girl once named Thais - she was cool. How about that? Tah-EES. You get to keep the tee and the ee, that way.”
“Done. Harlot.”
“Yer welcome. Trollop.”
These last insults were delivered with hip bumps, and we might have jumped each other’s bones right then and there, but Sigyn pinched both our asses. “Later, children,” she laughed.
>< >< ><
Well! As it turned out, everyone was there - including the handful of PleasureDroid staffers, who were mostly Tahitian girls, and were just as naked (and, in the event, lustful) as the rest of us. And the party hadn’t got started yet, either. Speaking as a horny droid, I don’t know if I could have held out like that. I guess so, ‘cause there I was, so to speak, right at the front and flourishing her long tongue at me in anticipation. Behind Tracy, well, Daddy was there, and Uncle Max and Auntie Christie, plus Adele Two, too (hee hee). And, as if to prove I hadn’t been dreaming (like that ever happened), there were my new friends Alexa, with her furry pet and her chrome partner, and Frisco and the other purloined perv-bots. There were some extra PDs, too, fresh off the production line. (Turned out, Sigyn had also somehow rounded up the other bots from my litter - the ones with the magic glitch - a critical service recall, I suppose.)
Adele announced my new name, and everyone cheered, but still seemed sort of expectant – like I was maybe supposed to make a speech.
“Umm … Play ball?”
Richard Ward - Tracie’s Daddy
Lacy (primary) - Daddy’s droid > fused with Tracie > imposed secondary Bambi
Adele Abernathy - Tracie’s best friend
Maxwell Abernathy - Adele’s Uncle Max
Greta (primary) - Max’s droid > secondary Adele - aka Estelle AKA Adele Too.
Christine Ward - Tracie's Auntie Christie
Maria – the neighbour’s housekeeper
Carl – a cabby
Marla Mountshaft – a snooty dress shop girl
“Daddy” – a Mall patron who slightly resembles Mr. Ward
Susan (AKA Stella) – a randy dress shop customer
Sidney Wilson – first thief > fused with Leslie
Wally – second thief
Jay – boss thief
Baubo (primary - AKA Blondie) > imposed primary Bambi – a stolen droid
Angeline (primary - AKA Red) > imposed primary Bambi - a stolen droid
Alexa Wilkinson (primary) – rogue bot
Leslie (primary) > fused with Sidney (together, AKA Frisco) - a stolen droid
Eve (AKA Ponygirl) – a stolen droid
‘Drucilla’ - a stolen droid
Maxine (primary) – Alexa’s assistant droid
Lucrezia (primary – AKA catgirl) – Alexa’s anthropomorphic companion droid
Aloysius
Wang
– a scientist, possibly mad > fused with Sigyn
Sigyn Wang
(primary) – Mr. Wang’s
creation and heir > fused with Wang
Thais Ward - a duplicate of Tracy/Lacy Ward
I’ve always felt that erotica tends to take itself too seriously – a stick up its collective bum, as it were. For my part, I find the whole bumping of pelvises thing to be intrinsically comic. Fun in other ways, too - but still. I started out trying to write parodies of the genre, and discovered that a whole lot of exaggeration was needed to get beyond the standard fare. So I settled for a serving of perversity with (hopefully) a bit of humour on the side. It took me a while to notice that there were some recurring themes that were a bit ... sideways. The most consistent thread you'll find here is transformation. Not the furry hentai sort; more the sort of thing that Greek and Roman mythology revels in. I find there's nothing like a meadow full of nymphs and satyrs to get the blood stirred.
Daddy’s Droid - A young woman discovers her father’s new maid is not what she seems - depending on one’s expectations. And then curiosity, predictably, leads to trouble.
Warning: this story contains incest and fantasy (including physical transformations and improbable genitalia); also graphic couplings involving men, women, and androids - sometimes in groups, and often with toys. Oh, and hopefully some humor.
* All characters herein are
adults, eighteen or over. *
The author offers the following additional disclaimers: Some action sequences should not be attempted at home. No animals were hurt in the production of these stories. All actors are professionals - not necessarily that kind. Certain of the acts depicted (including girl on girl, much incest, weird science, and those involving existential thoughts on existence, and masturbation) may, if you prefer, be taken as having been simulated. Do NOT try the positions described herein at home without a reputable Kama Sutra to hand. It has helpfully been pointed out that many are anatomically impossible. By chance, the author has actually studied anatomy, and concurs with that assessment. This is why magic (or undiscovered science, which is basically the same thing) has been invoked to explain unlikely organ sizes or plumbing arrangements, not to mention the whole transformation thing mentioned above.
Cinderella - an Erotic Fairy Tale - Book One - Guilder - Several connected tales touching upon the revisited story of Cinderella. It begins with a Witch, some Ruffians and Rats, a Curse, and a Member of Unusual Size. And then things get more Complicated … with a Fire Breathing Dragon, some Mercenaries and Blacksmiths, an Erotic Fountain and some Rude Confectioneries, plus Hot Tail and yet another Member of Unusual Size.
Cinderella - an Erotic Fairy Tale - Book Two - Dryadia - several further tales continuing the revisited story of Cinderella, with even more Fire Breathing, a Forgotten Bacchanalia, some further Warnings concerning Blacksmithies, Hot Tail in the Dark, and yet another Member of Unusual Size. Also, wandering Freckles and truly Radiant lips; fearsome Wizardry and Centaur sex; plus Carnal Greetings and Sexual Carnage. A Triumph of Lust... with Blues and tuna.
Club Latex - Several young Ladies visit a new Fetish Club – which, Unfortunately for them, is Secretly run by a Mad Doctor. Even more Unfortunate is the fact that he is Founder and CEO of Doc Abseil’s Animatronic Orgasmatron Manufacturing Enterprises.
Dogsitter & Other
Tales - comprising Dogsitter - Several
quick and silly riffs on the old “girl meets mad scientist (to say nothing of
his dog)” story. Of course, my Heroine would never ordinarily Dream of engaging
in the Acts depicted here, but for certain Sinister Influences. And neither
would the dog. The Fountain- A
twisted quickie in which a young Wicca is drawn by a Greater Power to an
assignation of Wicked Intent. The Toy
Shoppe - a Midwinter’s Tale - A young Woman, who is no longer in Kansas,
faces Death only to make Unusual new friends.
Dunyazad - A
Victorian Adventure, involving Templars & a Jinniyah, plus Sex, Violence
and Cheap Brandy. Each episode concludes in an Exciting Cliffhanger.
Charlotte the Harlot - A
young woman annoys her lover - who, as it turns out, has both Trust issues and
Thaumaturgical talents. She finds herself
transformed to become a rather nice inflatable - and
insatiable - sex doll. Luckily, her best friend sets out to try and meet her
needs - resorting variously to frat boys and stallions.
Finally, the author advises that you do NOT read these
stories aloud to your children at bedtime – unless they are adults, which
conjures images the author refuses to contemplate further.
Connect with CS : cordelia.speedicut@gmail.com Revised April 2017
original cover