Chris returns home to find a new Synedyne gynoid waiting to serve him.
On a completely related note, Chris’ roommate is missing.
tags: gender bender, nsfw, robot, transformation
“STEVE? YOU HOME, BUDDY?” someone called from the foyer. The new arrival had let himself in with a key, so I was not alarmed. I patiently waited in the living room, listening to the newcomer call out as he walked through the house.
“Ste—” he stopped when he walked into the room and saw me. “How… how did you get in here? And where’s Steve?”
I flashed a gentle smile. “Steve isn’t here anymore, but I would love to help you. I am Unit-304, but you may call me whatever you like.”
My neural engrams accessed Steve’s old memories, evaluating the man standing in front of me—Chris Carpenter: 27 years old, dark hair, toned, quite handsome, and unquestionably the man I was programmed to serve. According the data available to me, I had no evidence that Steve ever found Chris as sexually desirable as I did. His loss.
“You are Chris Carpenter, Steve’s old roommate?” I breathed out, the sultry electronic purr of my voice betraying my growing arousal. “This unit is program to recognize you as its master.” My electronic ‘eyes’ soaked in every feature of Chris’ body – his tight shirt, his puzzled look, his elevating heartbeat. “I can see that you’re a little agitated, Master. Let me help with that.” I pulled my shirt up, the smooth silicon shape of my breasts exposed to Chris’ gaze. “I would love to wrap my tits around your hot, hard cock. May I, Master?”
Chris stared back, even more confused. “Whoa, lady. Thing. I’m just trying to find my roommate. I’ve been gone all weekend, and it isn’t like him to…” He trailed off, looking at something behind me. “Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit.”
I admonished myself for my failure to make Master content – I must have, in organic parlance, ‘come on too strong.’ Now he was apparently even more worked up. But it was my duty to serve and persevere. “I apologize for creating an uncomfortable situation, Chris. How can I help?”
Chris ignored me, staring at something on the computer monitor in the corner of the room. I immediately recognized the GUI as belonging to a Synedyne Industries’ maintenance program. This was not unusual; all Synedyne gynoids come with some sort of software upgrade package, installed on a tablet or computer of the master or mistress’ choice. But Chris was, for some reason, completely appalled by what he saw, and it was my duty to help him. “Do you—”
Chris whirled around and grabbed my shoulders. I found his contact and proximity intoxicating, his virile masculinity overpowering. I did my best to hide my reaction, but I could feel my pussy-port flood with synthetic lubricant. “Unit. Thing,” he said, directly, powerfully. “Where. Is. Steve.”
“I told you, Chris. Steve isn’t—”
He interrupted me, forcefully. His command of the situation, and of me, was almost too much for me to handle. I bit back a moan of arousal. “What happened on my computer? Why is that program open?”
I accessed my memory engrams, computing an appropriate response. The response emulation package pre-loaded into my system by Synedyne Industries warned me that new users, even fully informed users, were often confused or appalled by the arrival of a new Synedyne sexbot. And from his reaction, it appeared as if Master was not expecting my arrival.
“Steve accessed your computer 37.2 hours ago. He opened the S.exe program on your desktop–” I trailed off, realizing that Master was no longer listening to me. He stumbled back, then slumped into a chair, staring into the middle distance. Whatever I had said had no similar impact on me, brought me no great revelation; in truth, I was more arousedthan ever. But I stood, ever patient, my shirt still hiked above my breasts, a small drip of lubricant running down my inner thigh.
After a moment, Master appeared to collect himself. “Okay, Unit…”
“Unit-304, but my model is conventionally referred to as the ‘Lily’ line.”
“Okay, ‘Lily.’ Pull down your shirt over your… breasts. Start from the beginning, and tell me everything.”
“After you left for your camping trip 37.3 hours ago, Steve decided he wanted to check his email. He was—”
“Wait, wait wait wait. If this is headed where I’m pretty certain it’s headed, you are Steve. If that’s the case, will you please stop referring to yourself in the third person?”
I was most certainly not Steve, not anymore, but I could meet this request—I was, after all, programmed with far kinkier roleplay scenarios than what Chris was asking of me. I activated my colloquial conversation protocols for good measure.
“Okay, Chris. I can do that. After you left, Steve… I wanted to check my email. My laptop’s battery was dead and my smartphone was in the other room, so I decided I would check my email on your computer.” Chris’ jaw set. “I know, you told me never to mess with your computer. But I was lazy, and you had forgot to log-out.”
I took a step closer, my voice becoming a shade breathier. “You’re always such a virtuous man, Chris. So straight-and-narrow. So pure. Imagine my surprise when I saw a file named ‘S.exe’ on your desktop. I just had to check it out. And I did.”
I knelt in front of Chris, my breasts held a fraction of an inch above his knees. In response, he kept his legs closed, trying to hid the raging hard-on I knew he had. My eyes tried to find his, but he kept looking away. “The program asked if I would like to make my own sexdoll. I didn’t know that the program was asking me if I would like to make myself a sexdoll.” I giggled, as if becoming a sexdoll was the simplest, most fun idea a sentient could ask for. “But here we are.”
“What… what was—” Chris tried to ask, his iron resolve struggling to maintain composure in a scenario that was turning him oh-so-very much.
I leaned further in, pushing apart his legs and resting my breasts against his crouch. My eyes—beautiful, purple, intoxicating eyes—finally caught his, and they refused to let him go. “What was it like,” my soft, silicon hands running up his legs, toward his formed abs, “what was it like to become this? Do you feel how good my hands feel—the warmth, the pleasant softness, the gentle dryness? Imagine that feeling slowly engulfing your whole body, slowly trickling through your skin until it becomes your skin, until everything in your life is that same warm, soft, gentle feeling.”
I stood and gracefully stepped out of my pants, then carefully clambered up onto Chris’ lap. My bare, warm, oh-so-slick pussy brushed along Chris’ cock, feeling its hardness through his pants. “Or maybe,” I whispered, bringing my provocatively pink lips to his ear, “you want to hear about my perpetual state of arousal, the constant, yearning hunger that fills my synthetic pussy.” I ground that exact synthetic pussy against his very not-synthetic cock, my hands joining in to slowly tease all eight inches out of his pants. “Did you know,” I continued, breathless, “that my factory settings prevent me from achieving an orgasm through self-stimulation? Did you know that, after the conversion, I stood here for thirty hours, lusting and fantasizing about this very cock?”
“Or maybe,” I said, pulling back my head, only to brush his lips with mine as I re-positioned to whisper in his other ear, “maybe you want to hear about how the programming changed my mind? Maybe you want to hear how I stopped struggling, how the wisdom of the program slowly, carefully, painstakingly shaped my mind into accepting the joy of synthetic service?” I emphasized each word with a slow, careful, painstaking caress, my pussy gliding back-and-forth, back-and-forth down the full length of his full cock. “Do you want to hear how Steve ceased to exist, how he came to accept that he no longer existed, that only she existed, Unit-304, whose sole purpose—” I raised my hips and positioned my pussy over his cock—“is to bring pleasure to her master?”
I leaned back in and kissed Chris, long and deep, even as I pushed my pussy down onto him, impaling myself on his glorious full cock. I broke the kiss to lean my head back and moan, crying out in pleasure as I pushed down, down, all the way down, our two crotches completely flush, my pussy clenching around his shaft. I closed my eyes and basked in the fullness, the utter fulfillment that this moment gave me.
But my duty to Master out-weighed my own desire to ride his cock. I resisted the urges to bounce up and down on his fabulous manhood, to cum and cum and never stop. Instead, I leaned my head back down toward his, fixing him again with my electric purple stare. My work was not quite over. “But none of that is really right, is it? It didn’t take my suite of sensors to see what really turned you on wasn’t my body, or my sexual overtures—it was hearing about my transformation. You want to know what it’s truly like to be me, because… because that’s what you really want, isn’t it? You bought this upgrade package from Synedyne not to use on Steve, but on yourself.”
Master moved to speak, and I gently hushed him with a kiss. “It’s okay. I’m here to serve you. To do that, I need an idea of what you want. When you came in, you were surprised, yes—but you wanted to know how I got in, not who I was. Because you already knew who I was—your dream girl, or at least the dream girl that you want to be. The only problem is that Steve accidentally subjected himself to the conversion before you had the courage to do it to yourself.”
I shushed Master’s response with another kiss; the twitching of his cock inside of me was all the confirmation I needed. “Master,” I said, pulling back and affecting my most serious voice, “Unit-304 is programmed to serve you completely. Every inch of my body and every moment of my existence is designed to bring you pleasure. I am yours, completely. But… is this—am I—what you really want? Or are you ready to become Unit-305?”
Art is “Plastic Glasses” by shadedsun2k2. Used with permission. Check out the rest of shadedsun2k2’s art and stories at his deviantArt account!