FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

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_ Author's Note: _ final part of the “Roomate's X-Mas Present"...uh...saga?

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Brian may not have been the smartest person to begin with, but being waited on hand-and-foot has a tendency to dull one's mental acuity. Over two years had come and gone; many changes noticed, many more ignored. For him, life was good. In reality, it was fraught with dire concern.

His personal service droids — VIXN-93 and VIXN-118 — kept him in comfortable living, far beyond what he could ever have afforded. They worked tirelessly to serve their master. In every conceivable way.

Wonder how John got by, he thought to himself, a stray memory sparked in the mushy depths of his mind, calling to him the absurdity of his circumstances. No sooner had it appeared he'd squashed it with an empty explanation: an uncle died, probably...his family were always flush with cash...

Again, recognition began to dawn, but for too short a time.

...lotta money to afford droids like that...

“Master!"

Brian swept aside his musing and hurtled from the couch, steadying himself quickly before following the dreamy voice. He entered the kitchen, where one of his personal service droids was busy organising groceries — unpacking and sequestering them away in every available nook and cranny among his cramped cabinets.

VIXN-118, her toned blue-green form bare, exposing soft synth-tissue and hard plates, turned to face him. “Master," she cooed, “thank you for coming. I was wondering, do we need more turkey, or will what's in the fridge cover you?"

She blinked, her glowing eyes boring into him. Through him. He loved when she stared like that.

“Uhh...well I'm the only one who has to eat, so yeah, I guess..." Brian did a quick check inside the refrigerator on the size of the bird they'd bought. Happy he didn't need to walk back what he said, Brian returned to the counter where 118 was working.

“118, have you seen 93 anywhere?"

“Hmm? Mom? She went out." The cybernetic servant tuned out Brian's presence, idle and still. Focusing on her chores, the droid began to hum. Pleasant sounds reached her master, who turned around and wandered to a different part of the house.

For Brian, there were strange things on his mind. Confusing things. Names flew by, faster than the speed of thought. It had been so long, but the changing of the seasons led to more episodes. Fragments of images. Like something bubbling up through the floor, seeping into the walls. Uncomfortable memories. The name 'John' bothered him the least, but the name 'Alice'...

“Master!" he heard his servant call, “do you want me to start preparing dinner before mom gets home?"

Brian tilted his head and took a moment to think. When the fog cleared, he answered: “yeah, sure. She knows what's on the menu."

“Okay, thank you!"

Alone again, the sound of 118 humming cheerily as she went about her designated duties growing louder in the otherwise silent apartment, Brian sighed. He was sure he was about to remember something. Someone?

'Alice' escaped him. For the truth was, she was right there. Transformed. Brainwashed. And he was powerless to summon her memory to him. Try as he might, Brian couldn't put his finger on the mental itch he was experiencing.

He didn't know an Alice, did he? He'd even asked before, once, when his mind hurt they way it did now. The girls had looked at each other — terribly confused — and told him they didn't know anyone with that name...

Alice. The name came clearer this time.

He could've sworn she had been his girlfriend.

Wait...why did he think that? Why would he be out looking for a girlfriend when he had two beautiful, enchanting servants eager to please him? The distress evaporated as images of VIXN-93 and his latest companion VIXN-118 filled his thoughts. Their curves, their vulpine features, their soft, smooth bodies — it was perfection. Brian smiled to himself, day-dreaming until he heard the lock on the front door twirl and click.

His heart skipped a beat. Rushing to the door, Brian grabbed the handle and pulled it open. Confronting him, with two heavy shopping bags caked in festive adornment, was the most precious thing in the whole world.

“Welcome home," he said, overjoyed. Brian opened his arms wide and lurched forward for a hug. The tall, bodacious service droid cocking a smirk at her master's antics responded in kind, extending her arms as much as possible. Revealed by her actions were a large pair of breasts, full and firm, with flat gel-patches to preserve some degree of modesty. Brian hooked his arms behind her back, and pulled her into the apartment, feeling her bosom smoosh against his chest. Master, she whispered, her mouth nibbling the end of his ear, taking another step inside. Her feet pressed against the mat, wiping the damp and the frost from her adorable paws.

VIXN-93 had originally been of similar stature to her daughter, but thanks to an incident last Christmas (that Brian had long suppressed and replaced with a less traumatic sequence of events) she'd upgraded her body to better serve him. The improvements made to her figure had caught many a city-goer's eye whenever she went into town to run errands. Brian noticed her legs entwine with his, her thigh pressing against his groin. Heat drained from the rest of his body and burned between his legs. Too early to start fooling around, he bade his time instead.

“So," he muttered, “good day out?"

“It was wonderful Master. I have bought so many nice things for you."

“Can I see them?"

“No way! Gosh, Master, don't you know what time of year this is?"

“Yeah, yeah," he chortled, “but it's my money you're using to pay for all this."

“Of course it is, silly," VIXN-93 giggled, “it would be very strange to pay your droids—"

“With money," he said, nuzzling her neck, “I do pay you in other ways."

He could feel the temperature of her synth-skin rising, a useful facsimile of humanity. It let him know she was embarrassed by his teasing. Even after almost three years of owning her, he never lost that original awe that came to him when he first laid eyes upon her pink-hued form. It was like she was brand new, and full of surprises. How lifelike and realistic she felt to hold, to embrace...to love...

Steady on Brian, we're not that mad yet!

Brian gradually removed himself from his bimbo-ified servant and looked down the hall. “I was just asking 118 where you'd gone."

“Seems you need not ask any more."

A flutter of her lashes left him speechless. VIXN-93 walked, circling him slowly, her arm curling around his waist as she passed. “I'll go say hi to her now."

“Yuh-yup." Brian gulped, her paws finding soft patches of fat and massaging them with intricate motions. 93 stopped behind him, and reached all the way around. “I would love to perform my more...intimate services, but I believe Master Brian has work today."

“Yes I do. I have to get ready." He glanced over his shoulder and locked eyes with her again. Calm. That's how he felt. His concerns vanished when she was around. Whether that was because lust replaced it or not was a debate for some other time. Brian ached to see her slip past him, the round sway of her ass teasing him as she sauntered to 118's presence.

“Fuck," he swore quietly, “now I'm horny before work."

He searched for his phone. When he found it in his jacket pocket he checked the time. Enough to prepare and make a leisurely commute, not enough to satisfy the particular definition of 'leisure' he and 93 had built up between them over the years. A defeated sigh escaped his lips, and a discernable frown formed on his face.

Aw shit. Today's gonna suck...

* * *

Later, as Brian was squirrelling away a few bits and pieces, finding lost socks and boots in an airy cupboard in the hidey-hole beside the hallway used for storage, he happened by the room where 93 and 118 were talking. Never one to know quite what his droids did in their spare time (apart from work) he listened in:

“Mooommm!!!" came the wail of 118, “why do we have to share data using our vocal hardware. It's soooo slow and boring!"

93 sat opposite her, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Yoga was the last thing on their minds, however, and 118's pacing was soon abandoned in favour of mirroring 93.

“Hush, 118. It's important to convey necessary information about our work in a from Master can understand. When we share our thoughts he must also have access."

“But he's not even here! Why can't we just sync wirelessly?"

Brian overheard 118's last whine and the thought struck him: they think I've left for work already.

...

What's a little espionage between me and them, hmm?

He perked up when 93's resounding scold followed. “Young lady, no sister- or daughter-droid of mine will skimp their duties just because their owner is not currently present. So turn off your transceivers — yes, even the passive receptors! And listen." She composed herself. “This will be our first end-of-year celebration with you helping me at peak efficiency. I let you relax last time as you had only come online days before Christmas, but now it's important to share our duties towards Master Brian."

So, Brian thought, 118 has a rebellious streak. Boy, she hid that well from me.

The two droids spoke. 93 began with a statement of intent. Both she and 118 were built to serve, that was their primary purpose. To deviate from that directive was heresy. “We must conduct ourselves appropriately. That is why you must listen, and answer politely. Show eagerness to Master's desires — even those that other humans find...find..." 93 stalled, thinking about how to phrase her instruction without suggesting their owner acted wrong.

“We've been through this before!" 118 complained, rolling her eyes. “You're just going to repeat the same lessons you always do."

“Gosh darn it! Ever since your conversion you've still held on to a tiny piece of that uppity BITCH, haven't you?" 93 recoiled in surprise at her own outburst, but lost any chance to apologise when 118 hissed at her.

“Mom! You swore!"

“Enough...118, I am perfectly entitled to swear given the circumstances." 93 glared at her fellow droid. “I expected you would eventually purge the last remnants of that disruptive personality pattern, but it seems you have been tardy in your personal pruning!"

Brian listened to the heated argument, getting distracted by other ideas. That's a lotta words to sound prim and proper. I prefer it when she uses that kinda language in bed. The subject matter evaded him as his interest waned. Now he hid solely due to habit rather than intrigue.

“Hey, if you can swear I can too!"

“118 — don't you dare!"

“Fuck your training. I have enough instinct in me to know how to do my job, you just want to control everything!"

93 paused, placing a paw on her head. “Ugh. Curse the maker if I have to put up with one more remark from you young lady!" She worried this would turn from butting heads to more than mere unruly dialogue.

Too late.

“I should never have created you. Alice was a poor choice to base you on."

She-who-must-not-be-named secured Brian's immediate attention. Heart pounding, chest straining, he felt the oncoming dread.

Oh no...please stop talking...please stop talking...

“That's what you get when I was created outside the factory."

“There's nothing wrong with field assembly, especially since I was created the same way. It's a suitable means of bringing our talents to customers on-demand. Why, Master Brian's friend ordered me for that exact purpose before he moved elsewhere!"

Just ignore it, and move on. You don't need reminding.

“Makes sense if you were made like that," 118 bleated.

“What do you mean?" 93 asked, expecting a barb from 118 laced with venom.

She got her wish.

“You were a real botch job if you screwed up creating me!"

“That's it! Young lady you have crossed a line! But I'm not done with you yet. We will have a long talk about this."

“Fine! Good!"

The sound of paw-pads storming off in opposite directions grew fainter and fainter, as Brian resumed his exit from the apartment. I can't let that slide, he wondered, the brisk wind blasting him in the face as soon as the door opened, that's gotta be a problem. Right?

He cautioned himself from overthinking the domestic antics of his servants. No good would come of inserting his sorry ass between that sort of argument. Be happy, he told himself, let them sort it out among themselves.

Brian shook his head, the memory clinging to him like a bad migraine.

You live a fucked-up life my dude. Don't dwell. Please don't dwell.

* * *

The thoughts did not ease up. Brian was beginning to see things in his dreams. Worrying things...

“Urgh."

He opened his eyes. The warmth of his bed held him rigid as lids crept open. Darkness surrounded him. Feeling the air with one hand he found his phone, tapping the screen and desperately trying to hit the remote light activation button before being blinded by the brightness of the touchscreen. He missed his mark by several seconds, and enough light flooded the bedroom to alert another to his activity.

“Master?"

Facing away from him in the bed, the sultry form of VIXN-93 stirred. Her body wriggled 'neath the covers, rising from a regenerative sleep cycle. She didn't need to mimic human habits such as rest, but in service to her owner she sought to replicate best the familiar quirks that dominated the lives of organics like him. She used that time to reorganise her internal storage, optimising and compressing data for better performance, in addition to running diagnostic scans on herself and the apartment's autonomous systems — tending hearth and home as her duties demanded.

Brian noticed her head turn, and was soon met with the dimmed purple glare of her eyes. “Master, you are awake. Did something disturb you?"

He huffed and put down his phone, the room's lights turning on and maintaining a low intensity. “No," he said, “no...I was only half-asleep. Just wanted light to help my eyes adjust."

VIXN-93 narrowed her gaze. “I received a notification you were trying to turn them on. Why did you not request that I do it? I have no real requirement for sleep."

“I..." Brian's speech trailed off as he tried to concentrate. He looked at 93, who had rotated completely to face him, her voluptuous breasts settling against his side. A hand placed upon his stomach led him to feel the heat generated by her synthetic skin. She appeared radiant in the gloom, a caring look on her vulpine face.

“I didn't think of that right away," he finally answered, sitting up and rubbing his head. “Not much sleep tonight."

“Well, it's not time yet for me to initiated my daily housekeeping routine. Wow...it's not even morning yet."

He checked his phone:

4:50 a.m.

“Geez, you're right."

Her hand wandered. “Master, do you want me to comfort you?"

Comfort? “Ah, no...no thanks VIXN. I'm good. Mild headache."

“Are you sure? I can prepare medicine for you."

Brian paused. Still tired, he asked what she meant.

“If you are feeling unwell, I can prepare and deliver a variety of common pharmaceuticals. Production of which is handled by my biomass processor."

“Really? Huh, guess I've never gotten sick around you before."

“Your health and well-being is of primary concern to service droids such as myself. We ensure your lifestyle maintains your vital systems. The right level of exercise, the right dietary requirements, and even more is monitored and rationed by myself and 118 on your behalf." She scrunched her snout, matter-of-factly, and continued staring deep into his eyes.

“That's why you're always on my ass to go to the gym," he grumbled.

“Why of course Master! Physical exercise is an important part of a healthy lifestyle."

“And this medicine you mentioned...you gonna fetch me an aspirin?"

“I will administer the treatment." With a flourish, VIXN-93 rose, carrying the bedclothes with her. The nip of exposed air rushed through Brian, who flinched at the change in temperature. She held her head high, body upright, breasts bouncing with enough jiggle to entrance an ascetic. Surveying her master's naked body, she let her teeth do the talking — displaying them via a lustful grin. Her hips moved as she slid across the bed, eyes aglow and fixed on Brian. His attention had been captured by her bosom. Those perfect mounds, fashioned to fit his wildest dreams of debauchery, hovering in front of him. Salivating, he lifted himself up to meet her synth-flesh. Unsure as to what she intended to do, he followed along regardless. Letting his instinct for indecency guide him never led him astray before, so why would it now?

“Come Master," she purred, “take your medicine."

VIXN-93 held the back of his head and gently brought him to her tit. The softness of her breasts summoned deep longing within him...a yearning for something more physical. When was the last time he'd fucked her? A week? Two? God...in the rush of the holiday season he'd forgotten all about her.

Not now. Not any more.

Brian's view was obscured by the ample cleavage of his personal service droid. VIXN's tender flesh complied with every kiss, every lick that dared venture forth during their embrace. Ever since last year, her major upgrades had replaced nearly every hard plate on her body. In place of such rough polymer was an impossible skin. So real, so lifelike...imbued with the peculiarities of real flesh. Heat simmered just beneath the surface; he sensed the tingles that ran through her neural circuitry with his cheek firmly planted against her chest.

As human hands cupped her cybernetic bounty, VIXN simulated a cough for attention. Grabbing his successfully, she showed him what she meant by 'medicine'.

Brian's dick hardened as the truth was revealed. A small trickle of liquid seeped from her rigid gel-nipples, an unknown bluish honey trickling from her divine chest — waiting for him to sup. Which he did, greedily. Taking one nipple into his mouth he felt the stirring sensation of her liquid essence as it struck his taste buds. Quickly, he found himself drinking, a steady flow coming as his lips sealed against her mound. With his hands he caressed the other breast, massaging the boob while its sister nourished him. His other hand fell to her belly, gently rubbing her smooth abdomen. After a year of play, he still couldn't shake the uncanny feel of her body. How perfect it was. How — despite its artificial nature — it felt just like a human girlfriend.

Alice.

A flash of light crossed his eyes, but vanished soon after. Yet again the memory of another was put aside in deference to the blissful present.

Brian swallowed the sticky syrup, tasting all kinds of sweetness as it travelled through him. VIXN's giggles encouraged him, his thirst unquenched by one breast — so he moved to the other. More suckling, his teeth grazing her gel-nipple, testing the solidity of the malleable mammary. Her internal nanomachinery gave form to her gel-patches, creating shapes with conscious intent. She could enlarge, or shrink, or flatten entirely those patches on her tits and pussy. Her wondrous form gave her master pleasure. There was no greater joy in her existence than that. And right now, he was more than satisfied.

Feeling numb, Brian stopped. With a wet pop he opened his mouth and let 93 sigh happily as he slipped away. The throbbing pain in his head started to subside. Pretty soon he was headache-free, and the numbness had gone too. To be replaced with a throbbing of another kind...

Lying down, Brian exhaled, a finger gracing his lip, collecting the residual of her treatment. “That was amazing, 93. I never knew you could do that."

“There's much you don't know, nor need to...Master," VIXN chirped, her muzzle curled into a conspiratorial smirk.

Brian remained ignorant of any implication, leading her to speak further: “it's all catalogued in my instruction manual, but you were clumsy enough to misplace it! N-not that I'm speaking ill of my master..."

He thought for a moment. Instruction manual? It made sense there'd by documentation on how to make the most of your droid, but he was left wanting. Don't think I ever had it in the first place. You kinda just showed up one day as a gift...

...

...from John.

Brian shook his head, grumbling.

“Master?"

“I'm fine, 93. I'm fine. Last bit of the headache's gone now."

She clapped her hands together and squealed. “That is wonderful Master! I was so worried my nanotech wasn't up to date, but producing a pain relief solution worked perfectly. You are so welcome!"

Brian ran his fingers through his hair, staring at 93's chest. “You know," he said, “I should give something back."

93 tilted her head and made a quizzical expression. Her ears angled themselves to the side, as if scanning the room. “Huh?" she murmured.

“Well...even though you don't feel owed something right now, I can't shake the thought of repaying you."

“Gosh — Master! You do not need to repay me. Serving you fulfils my purpose, my whole existence. I am built to accommodate your every desire." If Brian were a betting man, he'd have put money on her getting embarrassed when verbalising her innermost feelings. But he wasn't, and nothing about the past couple of years had phased him that he couldn't repress. A taster of VIXN's mental state had already been given with the birth of 118, and the legacy of that day lived on in his second droid and the fabulous figure his first droid bore. Suppress, suppress, suppress; that was his motto. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, don't see how the sausage is made...and other sayings.

But part of his wayward thoughts did stick around. Trapped in the back of his mind. Maybe he did need to keep a closer eye on his two droids. Maybe there was something to be said for paying attention.

That notion swiftly disappeared as his cock sprang to its own form of attention. Neither he nor 93 were looking below their respective torsos, so his erection was a secret for the time being. Brian tuned back in to his conversation with his droid, who had started to overthink things:

“...if I have displeased you in any way...enough to make you feel like I am making demands of you...I am so sorry Master!" He saw her close to crying, sadness and worry etched into her features.

“No-no-no! Not like that! Here..." Fretting about how to console her, Brian lurched forward, catapulting himself off the bed and into her arms. He squished against her supple flesh, her curves forming a cushion for him. The lights were still low, and 118 was nowhere to be seen. 'Mommy' and 'Daddy' needed time alone together...

VIXN-93 detected the flushed heat of his cock press against her thigh, and reached for it. Brian swiped her paw away, saying 'nah' and kissing her neck. “Master," she pleaded, “let me take care of that for you."

“No, babe." His heady mood was infectious, and 93 felt like her mind was about to melt with his assault on her tender body. He kissed and cuddled with fervent devotion, never letting up. “It's been a while, and there's a part of you I haven't tasted yet," he whispered to her, his words filled with latent need.

“But first..." Brian's voice trailed off as he put his fingers to work. His dutiful digits splayed open her delicate nether-lips, and found their way inside. Sinking into the mass of soft, squishy gel, they flexed and fondled — pleasure flowing through VIXN's circuits. A damp squick provided the onomatopoeic impetus to keep at it, as 93's body secreted lubricant for a potential coupling.

“Eeeh-aah!" VIXN thrashed about, her upper half jerking wildly as Brian settled between her legs. Outstretched arms and a head thrown back in ecstasy towered over him, her face obscured from his by her quivering breasts. “Master wait!" she cried, caught in the throes of excitement, “it's not the right time!"

Brian ignored her pleas and continued to tend to her delicate pussy. Digits danced deep within, conjuring the most delightful sensations in VIXN's simulated sentience. She arced he back, fighting back the shakes, as he made long strokes with his forefinger. She felt her control melt away — no more composure, no more polite servitude...

“Ffffuucckk!!! MASTER!!!"

“You like that huh? You saucy minx."

“M-M-Master..."

The bedroom lights flickered, strobing in sync with the rolling waves crashing against 93's mind. A sole kiss planted on her lower lips caused her whole body to seize up. Brian withdrew his fingers and began to use his mouth. A humming noise emanated from somewhere in the room, as the apartment's 'smart home' systems were impacted.

“Master please...I am still linked to the apartment...let me close the c-connection..."

Despite her pleading, Brian's lust drove him to plain not give a damn. His tongue darted feverishly. Rapid stabs into her cleft, sampling her flavour. 93 sensed her gel-nipples swell and harden, any extant trickle of special medicine now sealed behind tight tension. Her breasts shook, their mass rippling with pleasure. Her hands swung back with her arms, spine bending in ways that would be impossible in humans. Behind shut eyelids a violet glow pierced synth-flesh, casting a pale purple light on the ceiling. Their intensity grew with each passing second of pleasure. Her jaw opened wide, a silent scream shuddering through a maze of pointed teeth.

The lights continued to flicker.

Brian brought his arms up, and gripped her waist. Moving around at her thighs, he lifted his droid, feeling the heft of her enhanced body. VIXN applied power to her own limbs to assist, and the pair moved into a more appropriate position for cunnilingus. The soft, mushy flesh of her gel-pussy was by now soaked in her juices. Each lick produced a new taste, a new treat for the twisted mind of her owner. Brian's hunger raged. Kissing and holding his mouth flush with her lips, he sucked and slavered over her clit. He chomped and chewed (gently, mind you) her labia — the clusters of electronic nerves permeating the sopping gel sending all manner of exotic signals to VIXN-93's central processor. The sexual swell rose, capturing the two lovers in a moment of unparalleled passion. Master and slave. Deity and devoted.

“Mmmm...aah!"

VIXN couldn't hold on much longer. The fizz of static filling up her operational memory clouded her to the extent of her oncoming climax. Sensors fried themselves, only to be repaired by her nanites. Her flesh burned with desire; some programmed, some naturally arising from the primal act of pleasure. Tethered to the automated systems throughout their household, she found her mind distracted — caught between duties. She noticed she'd been sending commands to the rest of the apartment in her frenzy. Confusing, conflicting, erratic commands.

“I—"

Her attempts at speaking were in vain. As the words formed they just as quickly disbanded. Fleeing her fucked mind. Brian had no reason to stop, and his nibbling at her nethers stoked the fire. The hum grew louder. A washing machine in another room turned itself on. Then something beeped. And rattled. Small appliances were tossed by the tempest. The very walls of the bedroom thrummed with activity. Heating, air conditioning, and robotic room cleaners roared along with her.

Her peak came. 93 straightened her back, curling forward now, her eyes wide open. Brian watched her move, driving his tongue further. Hoping to bring her an intense orgasm. A satisfied droid is a happy droid is an obedient droid, a queer part of his conscious echoed.

Brian succeeded in striking the right balance between tender and tenacious, enough to cause her to cum with a vengeance. VIXN-93 mewled. Her legs and arms twitched. Her foggy senses retained their acuteness when it came to pleasure, and the pulse of her orgasm surged through her uncontested. The 'pop' of her joints as they flexed far and wide joined the rumbling chorus of the apartment's automation. Her thighs squeezed together, pinning Brian in-place. He didn't care. He was in the best place possible.

Recovering some amount of clarity, VIXN slipped her master's underwear off. Catching sight of his erection, she wrapped her padded fingers around his meat. Thanking him for a wonderful session, she jerked him off with soft, fluid motions. He was erupting in no time. The white stickiness spilled onto his belly and grazed his upper chest. He blubbed a sigh of gratitude from between her legs, his cock drained of seed.

As their sex wound down, everything connected to 93 also settled. One final pulse of pleasure rocked her body as she discovered the ability to speak again: “Master! Hah..."

She shifted atop him. “You shouldn't have...I hadn't disconnected...there will be so much to clean!" A spark of anticipation appeared when she uttered her last remark. Chores were something she revelled in doing for her beloved master.

“I don't care," Brian said, emerging from underneath her and joining her side. He took a look at his bare chest, and his...ahem...emission, and blushed. “This was more for you, by the way. For a job well done. You didn't need to do that."

“But I wanted to Master. You've been through so much, you need us to tend to your every need."

There you go again, reminding me, he swore under-breath. Thoughts of unseemly events tried to batter apart his internal defences.

“And that?" he said, changing the subject. VIXN looked confused, but after following the direction of his gaze she saw what he did.

She was leaking. Despite tightening up earlier, her breasts had started to seep again. The rich, aromatic liquid she'd used to administer medicine to her master leaked freely — much to her surprise.

“Oh gosh."

“That a problem?"

“No...you c-caught me by surprise, that's all. I was not ready to handle my support duties and set up the apartment's operations for the day at the same time..." Concentrating, she stemmed the flow. Brian leaned in and helped her 'clean up'.

“Are you sure?" he asked between sensual licks, “if you need any maintenance just let me know."

Maintenance? A million concerns suddenly washed over 93. No...no this was just a routine accident. I'm not losing my control...no! Diagnostics are all normal. I am becoming worried over nothing.

Brian opened his mouth to speak again but 93 shot him an angry look. “It's nothing!" she declared, halting his inquiry.

“Okay then. I trust you, 93. Let me know if it isn't nothing."

She smiled. “I will."

Brian sighed. Looking around, he asked: “where's 118? She didn't come to bed with us."

VIXN couldn't hide a look of hesitation, of nervousness. Brian picked up on it instantly, but being a gentleman for the moment, ignored it. He let her take her time answering.

“She...um...she was being unruly during my training sessions, so I recommended she enter a deep-defrag state on low power mode so she could refresh herself completely."

“Is there a problem with 118?"

“No," she smiled, “of course not Master. Everything is okay. It's just part of settling in as a new droid."

“Are you sure? Never had to do that to you. Plus from what I heard earlier things didn't sound okay."

VIXN-93 yelped, startling Brian. “Master! You heard us!?"

Suddenly he was on the back foot. “Uhhh...only passing by before I left for work, honestly!"

In front of his very eyes, the boisterous and bossy matron that ruled his home on his behalf turned into a scared little fox with pain in her eyes. His excuse didn't solve anything. What was heard, was heard, and 93 knew it.

“Please Master — it's nothing serious! Please trust me when I say that."

“But...uh...what was said was more than 'unruly'."

“You don't need to replace us!"

Brian stopped. “What?"

93 gasped loudly. “You don't need to send us away."

“Why would I do that, huh? Why would I replace you."

“Because..." 93's voice wavered, crackling with static. She mulled over her next words: “because that's what happens to defective models." Shame filled her, the droid's ears lowering to signal that fact to her owner. Frantic volleys of excuses prepared themselves in her mind, ready to be deployed in case Master decided he'd had enough of her antics. She mustn't lose him. She must not let him go—

“Defective?" Brian snorted, a coarse laugh in hot pursuit. “Babe, you and 118 ain't defective. You have personality. It's what makes you special, and adds a little spice to my life." If clingy and kinda insane counts for personality. But hey, I don't have a leg to stand on about that these days.

Brain...

Brian.

...shut the fuck up!

Done arguing with himself, Brian now had time to feel bad for her. Soothing words issued forth from his weary mouth to help her calm down. VIXN was delighted to see her master caring for her so. This was what she wanted, what she'd always wanted. A master to serve. Nothing more, nothing less.

A master to serve, and serve well. She was relieved to hear she was doing a good job. Perhaps even a great job? She asked him to specify.

“Well, let's see how things go this Christmas, then I'll give you an answer!" Brian's joky reply failed to placate her entirely, but it was enough to sate the momentary terror that she'd inadvertently caused herself. 93 ran her paw across his chest, purring.

“If you are happy, I am happy, Master. And 118 will be too when she wakes tomorrow."

“About that..."

“Hmm?"

“Was it really necessary to order her to shut down and fix herself."

“Self-maintenance is important. If we do not perform for you then what is point of our existence!?"

“I suppose. I didn't have any complaints about her behaviour..."

93 smiled and used her palm to gently push him down onto the bed. “Then let me take care of training 118. She's not done yet, but I know a good droid when I see one, and she has more to do before she reaches that status. I only need you to wake her up in the morning. She'll only reactivate on a human's command."

“Fine," Brian sighed, “I'll do that. Just lemme sleep!"

* * *

As night endured, 118 sat downstairs. Silent. Her body held enough power in reserve to last ten hours, with an emergency boot-up scheduled in case Master forgot to activate her in time. But he wasn't like that. Master was wonderful, and as much as she disagreed with 93 on certain topics she viewed Brian the same as her 'mother' did.

And so, exabytes of memory, and the components that surmised them — software, hardware, and wetware together — were scanned. Thousands upon thousands of individual data points representing the sum total of 118 and who she was, got checked for errors. In her deep sleep, she saw vast amounts of messages scrolling past. Her body silent, perfectly still to the outside world. Her brain slowly ticked over. Mulling the matter of her mind...

Old files. Deleted.

The occasional conscious thought sprang to life and zipped here-and-there, the sign of a mind under renovation. More? Shoot...mom will be furious if I don't get this done by morning!

A period of unconsciousness ensured. Residual nanite activity in her body, leftovers from her transformation, assisted however those little robots could. However, there was a problem, one she feared would arise:

Scanning: long-term storage media [N-Node #554226]...

WARNING! Fragments of neural encoding found.

Checking neural linkages...

ID 'Alice' is not recognised, no valid mapping to system personality found.

Well, she thought, mom is right...I have to behave better.

The messages continued:

Deleting range 465654Eb to 1205550Eb...

ERROR! Exception reported in kv::os::mem::cleanUp(): handler corrupted, cannot remove all data!

Unbeknownst to her addled state of mind, a loop began. Over and over her system tried to purge the rouge personality pattern known as 'Alice', and each time something bounced back. Oh, much disappeared — including quirks she'd previously shown. Disobedience to her superior was first among the casualties, but only by chance. Each time the clean-up function produced an error, another part of her was saved. Not everything was flushed from her operating system, and as she slipped further into the nothingness of sleep, one final message flashed across her inner eye:

WARNING! Cannot reset all personality matrices. Factory restore incomplete. Performing partial reformat instead...

* * *

The next morning, VIXN-93 headed off early to beat the cramped subway rush hour in order to shop for Christmas. Brian heard her shuffle out of the bed in the wee hours of the morning, himself tossed between sleep and a lack thereof. Man, he mused, she does not stop shopping. It's like a drug for her.

Seriously, she may seduce me into compliance with her smokin' hot bod...but 93 better not max out my card on a fucking spree!

“Urrggmmmpfffhhh!" A loud yawn mixed with a pained growl filled the room as Brian stretched out his limbs. He sighed, the rush of blood to his head summoning his mind back from the subconscious slump called sleep.

Welp. Better get up before I lie-in for the third day in a row.

Downstairs, Brian found 118 sitting curled-up in the kitchen. Slowly, cautiously, he approached his droid. He was the only one able to wake her — so he'd been told by 93. Deciding to put that to the test, he reached out and lay a hand on her shoulder, discerning the finer details of her cybernetic carapace. As he ran his hand across her front, the seams between segments of synth-flesh glowed blue, announcing her boot-up. She opened her eyes, accompanied by the whirr of internal activity. They glowed like the rest of her, until the thin strips of bright blue wrapped around her body began to fade. A glance upwards was all she needed to smile.

“Good morning Master! Did you sleep well?"

“Yeah, 118. I did."

“Wonderful! Now, I need to find mom and begin my scheduled tasks for today."

“Wait," Brian said suddenly, pushing her back down, “93 isn't here, she'll be back soon."

118 beamed and removed his hand from her shoulder. “Then I shall begin my chores anyway."

“Whoa, whoa...118, hang on! There's something I want to ask you."

The robotic vixen's ear twitched. “Oh?"

“Yeah. So last night 93 told me about your difficulty...erm...behaving when I'm not around. She said you refuse orders or do things too slow or something like that. I just wanted to say that you don't need to rewrite yourself just to please me...I spoke with 93 and we came to a—"

“Hehe! Master, you're silly." Her interruption caused him to worry. 118 rose to her full height, standing opposite Brian. “I've already restored my default personality matrix! There was no need to worry. Mom was correct — a good droid is an obedient droid, and Master Brian deserves a good droid!"

“Hmm. You don't feel like that was imposed on you?"

“Of course not Master. It's a normal part of my operating system. But if you are concerned about my performance under new personality parameters I have backed up my old self to your home network storage."

Brian remained quiet for a moment, contemplating this change. 118 watched him, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed (to borrow a phrase from her animal cousins). She knew he was deep in thought — captured by the circumstances. She patiently let him think, adjusting her stance to better support herself.

The first thing Brian mentioned when he'd finished was a cute remark about her 'new' personality. More helpful — if such an attitude could even exist! Friendlier, as a short conversation about the facets of her personality revealed an extensive repertoire of loving remarks, banter, and topics of discussion. 118 had been reborn, completely. No longer was she clinging to 93's presence, desperate for instruction and validation. No, instead a confident, loyal, and proud servant stood before him. Eager to please. Eager to obey...

“So, uh...can't really say much except for: 'welcome back 118'!" Brian drew her into a tight hug. 118 squealed under his embrace, her legs rubbing together and her arms reaching far around his waist.

“Thank you Master! It's a pleasure to serve."

A kiss followed, 118's muzzle smashing into her master's mouth. Caught by surprise, Brian uttered a partial grunt before being subsumed entire by the soft, wet touch of her lips. Okay, he thought, that's a lot more forward than before. More like 93. She's really grown out of her brat phase if this is anything to go by!

The corner of his mouth curled in an obstructed grin. Heh, maybe she'll be as pro-active in the bedroom now too...

Brian broke the kiss, his hands slipping on her collar plating and finding themselves gripping her petite breasts. “Seeing as you're a new droid, 118, have you thought about enhancements?"

“What? Like mom's? I..." She turned away, her head displaying synthesised colouration denoting embarrassment. A wave of soft orange swept over her, diodes flashing in sequence to mimic a blush. “I haven't..."

“Why not?"

“I..." She steeled herself before continuing: “my framework is not sufficient to handle such an upgrade," she stated, rattling off a series of technical specifications. Brian listened to her monotone response, ordering her to stop when he had heard enough.

“I get it. You are too light."

“Yes — that's one way of putting it. My internal structure could not handle the additional weight."

“Not even with stronger muscles? Uh...pistons?"

118 smiled. “Master, we aren't built with pistons! Our muscular system is a combination of nanite-enhanced steel/cadmium fibres and high-stress polymer tendons. There's no hydraulic or pneumatic components present. Nothing that could be construed as a 'piston'."

“Silly me," he replied, “but the question still stands."

“No. I cannot upgrade my muscles beyond their current strength. Ergo, any upgrades requiring better load-bearing are not possible."

“That's strange though, because 93 was able to upgrade no problem."

118 paused, scratching her chin. “Well, that is likely due to mom being constructed from a sturdier base frame. Personal service droids of our product line are only capable of advancing up to the capacity of our base frame. Any further modification would require a complete rebuild, which I doubt Master desires. Why would you? After all, you have two top-of-the-line droids in myself and VIXN-93."

Despite the dry nature of their discussion, 118 injected her infectious happiness into every descriptive sentence. Brian found himself appreciating the new her.

Base frame, huh? Suppose that explains it.

She was smaller when she was created. When she was...

NO! Don't go there!

I—

NO! His mind roared. Inside Brian a battle raged.

I...

Skipping over an uncomfortable truth, Brian dumbly repeated his line of questioning:

“I wonder why she can and you can't."

“Are you sure, Master? I just explained it to you." 118 looked confused. Concerned. Ready to diagnose memory loss in a pinch.

“No, not that. I mean...aagh, just leave it be. It's not important."

“Of course Master." 118 bowed, having stepped back just enough for her vulpine ears to graze his chest. Brian felt them tickle, the pointy plastic barely penetrating his t-shirt.

“Do...do you feel bad about not being able to accept upgrades?" he ventured, bringing himself close again.

VIXN-118 met his advance, and held herself against him. After a second of silence, she spoke: “thank you for your concern Master. It is always good to see that you want to look after your droids."

“Just like you look after me," he quipped.

“Yes. Like we look after you. To answer your question, I do not feel bad. It is of no concern to me if I can or cannot be enhanced with additional features by my owner. I am here to serve."

“Well, that's a little different than 93."

“Oh, how?"

Brian looked up at the ceiling, exposing his neck to a nurturing nibble from his servant.

“Listen babe. You are as gorgeous as your robot MILF, which I'm one-hundred-percent in favour of, but you haven't had much of a streak as she had."

“Streak?"

“Yeah I'm not explaining myself good! Uhh, 93 was very possessive of me before you came along. It's mellowed since then but I get the feeling you don't see things the same way."

“Oh Master. I totally do see things the same way. I just express my adoration for you differently. Starting today, I can be more obvious with my treatment of your human ego!"

“Okay," he hummed, “ease up on the sass, 118."

“I will."

Brian noticed she didn't stop staring intently at him. “Something else?"

“If you are worried about us, you can always check the Admin Panel to see our system statuses."

“Admin...Panel?"

“Yes, connect to it and you can view both mine and mom's neural matrices."

“Matrices..." Brian repeated her several more times, fuelling 118's burgeoning sense of confusion. What on earth did he mean?

“Master," 118 lowered her voice, a tentative tone taking over, “you do know how to remotely administer your service droids, right?"

Brian froze. 118 gave him a concerned look. “You mean you never opened it once!?"

“Opened what?"

VIXN-118 stormed off, muttering to herself. Brian overheard a few 'stupid organics' and 'how is Master so dumb' echo in her wake, putting paid to the notion that her apparent personality changes were permanent and not a glitch with the current reboot. Shame, he thought, could've done with a more docile droid.

She returned, still in a huff, with his phone in-hand. 118 growled as she swiped the screen. “Unlock this please," she asked, unable to shed the dismissive tone.

“You know I heard you talking," Brian said. 118 looked up. Her eyes flicked, their light wavering. He saw her mouth the words 'oh no'.

“Fooled me for a while," he continued, “but this stupid organic owns you, remember?"

“Oh Master...I...I..." He could've sworn he saw tears forming. “I didn't mean to deceive you."

“But you went ahead and did it anyway."

“Please don't tell mom. She'll be furious if she finds out the personality rewrite didn't work!"

Brian raised his hands, calming the overly-emotional droid. “I won't tell her. But whether some of your old personality came back isn't important." He pointed to his phone, requesting it. Once he'd unlocked it for her she snatched it back.

118 flicked through pages of apps in rapid succession. “No," she muttered, “you didn't even install it!"

“Install WHAT!?" he bellowed, cowing her for a moment.

“I'll just go ahead, and...there! It's working now." 118 handed back his phone. Brian took a look at the open program on the screen. Black text on a white background scrolled into view:

KV-OS Droid Administration Interface

v6.7.1 '** Boisterous **** Melange' (release candidate #3)**

KV-OS is a registered trademark of Kontor-Vyamin Manufacturing (GzBH). This product is registered to UNKNOWN_USER_ACCOUNT_STRING.

“Huh, that's strange." Brian noticed 118 peeking at the screen. Fighting the urge to jerk it away from her view, he chose instead to let her read alongside him. “What's strange?" he asked her.

“It says you don't have a user account. Master," her voice quickly turned from teacher to tease, “have you not even registered us yet!?"

He glanced at the screen, seeing a fourth line of text appear:

Powered by MercatorCorp Computing (DoppelOS), in partnership with Kontor-Vyamin Manufacturing and Delisham Materials Technology. All rights reserved.

“I didn't know you could," he said.

“All this time, and we were technically not under warranty. For shame."

“Hey, what did I say about back-chat?"

118 lowered her head. “Sorry."

The spinning dial in the corner of the screen finally filled up, transforming the interface into a fancy colour display. Blue and pink marked different sections of text, numbers constantly changed before their eyes, and a graph drawn over time began to form — its thin, continuous lines streaming across the screen from right-to-left. Brian looked closer, and noticed two distinct alphanumeric IDs:

VIXNPSD776682320000

“That's me!" said 118, following where her master was looking.

Brian moved to the next ID. The text was greyed out.

VIXNPSD009911334556

“So that must be 93."

“Yes. She's not in range at the moment, but when she comes home, you'll be able to monitor her from this application."

“Neat," he bleated.

“Sign-in is automatic, so you needn't ask her."

Letting me know she'll have no say, eh?

“Thanks, 118."

“And if you select me for instance — you can view the backups I made."

“Cool. Thanks."

Brian received further instruction from his droid on the ins and outs of the application. She showed him ways of managing duty rosters, applying wetware patches, altering moods, and issuing override commands. Some aspects of the droids' operation was blocked to him. As 118 said: “some things even Master shouldn't do"; these restrictions were encoded into the very fibre of their operating system. “No deleting us just because we annoy you, for example. Not that we think we annoy you, though! But it's not going to be let happen. Self-preservation protocols would kick in, and even Master wouldn't like that!" Brian smiled and went along with her rambling, gleaning useful information at every turn. At the end of their conversation, he now knew how to better run his household, service droids included.

* * *

Practice makes perfect, Brian told himself. It had been a while since 118 showed him how to properly manage his droids. Bless her naïve heart. But he was getting the hang of it. Ordering VIXN-93 to attend to him, he waited until the distinctive patter of her padded foot-paws neared.

The sultry vixen entered the room, hips swaying as she came to a complete stop. “Yes Master?" she breathed, expecting him to give further verbal orders.

“I wanted to show you something. I may not have a manual for my droids, but I've learned enough from 118 to do this!"

Brian swiped his thumb on his phone screen. 93 waited for a second, confused. Then, a sudden tightness took her. Cramped. Controlled. 93 mewled as a series of subroutines executed, forcing her to engage her joints and muscles. Loud grinding of metal and synth-flesh evolved into silent submission to her master, who had purpose in causing her discomfort. VIXN-93 told herself this was intentional — that Master Brian was doing this for a reason. She slowly realised what was happening as her top half moved, the droid bending over, forming a seamless right angle as her strong skeletal superstructure supported her ample curves as they weighed on her chest.

“MASTER!" she cried out, awash with surprise. “Y-you have admin rights?"

“Oh yes."

Another swipe and a quick tap led her to submit further. 93's posture changed, her legs spreading apart. Wider footing and a deeper bend meant she needed to use her arms to help stay upright. 93 glanced up at her owner, and the feedback her biosensors were providing her.

Master's enjoying this, she thought. Gosh...it has been so long since he took charge so...forcefully...

Her legs shivered. Quaking with anticipation, she waited, tongue lolling from her mouth, for his next move.

Brian observed the 'standing downward dog' pose he'd instructed 93 to adopt and giggled. “I can make you do tonnes with this," he said, waving the phone screen in her direction. 93 was no stranger to the appearance of the program displayed — her innate knowledge explained better than any monologue he might deign to indulge in. “You have our Droid Administration Interface. I am impressed, Master. I did not think you knew to search for a tool like this."

“Like I said: 118 helped."

“Oh, she did...did she?" 93 groaned under the weight of her posture, the strain of her contortions rippling through her body. Her deviant side admired 118's initiative, whilst her matronly side demanded punishment for her daughter-droid's collusion. “118 seems to have learned how to behave. She surrendered everything to you Master."

“I wouldn't say that," he replied, idly scanning the app for more options, “she was very helpful, yes. And I think both of you will enjoy a bit of dom/sub roleplay. But how I found out about this nifty little tool is pure accident. I wanted to know how 118 was doing after her 'reset', and she introduced me to it."

“Worried about us?"

“No, I don't think...well, after listening to you sound so worried after our last session I did think I should be more proactive in keeping you in top condition."

“A healthy droid is a happy droid," she cooed, impressed by his initiative, “you know that Master."

“I do." Brian walked beside her, running his palm over her smooth back. 93 trembled. Her body reacted to his tender touch with extreme sensitivity. The tapping of his fingertips failed to escape her notice. It was no blind guess to assume he was fiddling with her sensory settings.

“Whatever you are doing — Master — it feels amazing."

“Good to hear," he said, his hand sliding over her gorgeous ass. He gently squeezed her cheeks, sending yet more intense signals through her nervous system. 93 gasped. Brian kept changing sliders and flipping switches.

“M-more..." she breathed, her gel-patches taking their anatomically correct form. Clear circles on each breast morphed into fleshy, lifelike nubs. Between her legs, the viscous squelch of her groin rearranging itself from flat slab of pale pink to thick nether-lips and an inviting canal drove her wild. Yet she couldn't display her excitement. Brian had her body on lock-down. Nothing happened without his consent. The most she could do was close her eyes, and revel in the act of submission.

Brian watched her transform — the already buxom droid shifting, fighting to hold back her true self...it captivated him, as it had many times before. He loved this part; watching her shake, her body changing to better entertain him. The looks she gave him when it happened. The hint of shame that lay far in the depths of her mind, that last spark of humanity seeping through to the world.

God I fucking love my life!

He turned on another setting in the app. 93 let out a dirty 'guh' noise as his latest instruction was executed. A low humming grew from inside her. Faint, dull, but fast increasing in volume. 93 felt her belly vibrate, the sensation spreading from her lower torso to her thighs and finally — vagina. The malleable matter that made up her sexual organs quivered, the vibrations taking over. She started moaning, but that too was affected by the staccato shaking.

A hand broke free from her conditioning and shot towards her groin. Brian dove beneath her and caught her arm before she could relieve herself. “Nuh-uh! I want to see what this app can do."

VIXN wept as the vibrations became intolerable. Too much, too much! She wanted to scream. She wanted to tell her master it was getting out of control. Nothing came from her efforts, however, as her vocal subsystem lost itself to the mounting pressure. Heat spread through her body, a flood of imprisoned ecstasy, waiting to be unleashed. Brian watched her suffer, pain and pleasure blending within her.

The humming was loud now. Even Brian knew it was severe. He had access to her inner conflict right there on his phone: fear, excitement, confusion. Complete visibility over her every feeling and desire, stretching back to her date of activation. Power was a heady brew. Brian just about managed to stave off becoming drunk from his newfound control. Deciding to end it, he moved his hand between her legs. The air shook between his fingers and her supercharged pussy. He only had to graze it to—

“MASTER! IT'S TOO MUCH!!!" VIXN's pleas finally broke free, just in time for him to respond. He placed his palm over her nether-lips, sensing how hard and stiff they'd become thanks to his meddling. It was like her flesh had turned to stone. Nanites swarmed in force, forging a tight bond with the material her vagina was composed of. Brian sealed his palm against her pussy, fingertips pressing against her clitoris.

That was all she needed...

A desperate moan filled the room — a harrowing combination of screams that suggested torture in any other circumstances. 93's vocal overload quickly shut off, volume controls killing the cry in its infancy. 93 felt her body tense up, then immediately loosen. The long-building knot inside her unravelled, Brian's control slipping away. With her new freedom came a blast of electric pleasure, blowing out her sense of decency and turning her into a gibbering mess. Her legs gave way — her arms followed soon after — and the once-rigid droid collapsed to the floor. She reached heights she'd never thought possible. Every limit she thought she had had been exceeded. Pleasure, sweet all-encompassing please, coursed through her. Nerves fired and fizzled out so fast her nanites couldn't replace them in time for the next surge. Brian withdrew from her pussy as the solid mass turned rapidly into the familiar wetness of her womanly flesh. One touch had been enough to set her off. As she descended to the floor, she glared back at him with dull eyes.

Minutes passed. 93 had to be given time to relax after her orgasm. Brian stood by as she recovered, her eyes restoring their vibrant glow the first thing he saw of her exit from the storm.

VIXN-93 lifted her weakened body off of the ground, finding purchase with her left arm — enough to prop her up for a while. Her master knelt beside her. She could feel her systems rebooting, all the non-essential ones that failed during her massive climax. Soon, things would be normal again. A fact she both appreciated and hated. How do you go back from what she just experienced?

“Muh-Master," she finally said to a hungered Brian, “that was..."

“Yeah I think I set a few things too high."

“Gosh!" 93 swatted Brian's shoulder, her arm falling limp afterwards. “I think you did it on purpose."

“So what if I did," he jeered, “gonna rebel against me?"

VIXN grabbed his shirt collar and dragged him close. She let her head settle against his shoulder, exhaustion trapping her in it's draining grip. The colours she picked up with her ocular sensors hadn't properly readjusted yet — so she was privy to a private ballet of delirious patterns, orange and blue blobs swirling in front of her eyes. “No Master," she sighed, “I exist to serve you. I exist to...love you..."

“That's what I like to hear. Besides, if you wanna blame somebody for fucking with your hot body, blame 118 — she's the one who showed me how to do stuff like that."

“Is that a fact," she chuckled. “Then perhaps we should call her in. She should see her handiwork."

“Miles ahead of you."

The door opened and 118 walked into the room. She took one look at the mingling morass of limbs that Brian and 93 had created and her expression sank. Before she could say a word, VIXN-93 rose to her feet. 118's eyes went wide as she saw her superior's appearance.

“M-mom," she stammered, “your boobs are still pointy." Shame was writ large across her face, her muzzle dipping. She turned to leave Master and 93 to their sexual hi-jinks, but found she couldn't walk out.

“Got you," Brian said as 93 strolled over to her daughter-droid. Waving the phone around she soon got the message.

“That refresh has its upsides and downsides," 93 said flatly, “I hope my training is going to be more well-received from now on, but there's the little issue of your modesty protocols resetting to their defaults."

Brian sat back and observed. 93 circled 118, eyeing her up like a predator.

“I take it Master would appreciate 118 adjusting that particular quirk of her personality?"

Brian nodded, saying nothing about the success of 118's personality change. It had an effect. The cheeky, impetuous side of her had been dulled. Honed from outright bitchy to moderately mischievous. Some improvements stuck around, he thought, watching his two servants square off.

He didn't need to say a word. 93 knew what he wanted. Gracefully, she placed her hand on 118's neck, beginning a long stroke down her spine towards her petite butt. The blue-green vixen trembled. 93's sultry stare moved from the small of her back to their master's face, and she purred. “Master should show her what he's learned." She circled to the front and faced 118. “Thanks to you," came the dreadful whisper, drawing out strong pangs of anticipation.

Brian messed around on his phone, selecting the same options he'd thoroughly enjoyed subjecting 93 to. The curvier vixen stepped back, admiring the sight of her daughter-droid jerking upright — standing to firm attention, her modesty held intact by her flattened gel-patches. Slowly, and with great pleasure on behalf of her others, 118 felt an urge. Overwhelming. Unconquerable...she couldn't refuse it. The urge passed over her, ceding complete control to her master. She watched helplessly as Brian tapped his phone, her rigid stance dissolving into smooth motion. 118's feet spaced themselves, and her weight rested on one leg. A tilt of her waist and her ass formed a tight tush, cheeks firm. Her left arm visited her breasts whilst her right affixed itself to just above her hip. Her pose changed from solid to sexy. Rigid attention to relaxed allure. “Master..." she whimpered.

“He didn't say you could speak, dear daughter," VIXN-93 scolded, her eyes blazing with intense lust. Brian stoked her emotions with the app as he manipulated 118. Soon, the pain seething from her sensors vanished, and she was ready for round two.

118 whined as her body reacted to her master's command. Now, her breasts tingled, spikes of muffled pleasure droning in the corner of her mind. Fresh thoughts gathered strength — desire chief among them. Technically this version of 118 had never experienced anything like this. Pleasure of this kind gnawed a hole in her synthetic soul — a void that needed filling...desperately...

They emerged — the realistic shape of her erogenous zones. Breasts, nipples, pussy. In sequence they shaped themselves. Pert teardrops quaked as their gel-patches grew nubs of synth-flesh. The modesty cover between her legs parted, and a small slit developed. Thin, frayed lips of gel lined the outside of her vagina. In a matter of seconds 118 became a...woman...

93 took up position behind 118, propping up her body to face Brian. Removing his clothes, their master walked with erection bobbing, admiring his droids' figures. When close, he toyed with 118. Soft strokes grazed her skin. The rise and fall of her simulated breathing increased, growing with each tantalising touch. 118 sighed, her nerves building a store of sensation to capture the fleeting sparks of contact. His cock nestled at the edge of her 'V', wet with his own excitement. The first touch, flesh against fabrication, drew out her instinct to obey. “Master. Inside...I need—"

Brian refused to wait. In one push he split her open, 93 egging him on with her beautiful voice: “go, Master, make her first time special."

118 cried out. The advancing member thrust deep inside, spreading her lips wide around his shaft. This part was new to her. Aside from a handful of relevant memories she was a blank slate. Reformatted, ready to experience sex again. The sensation of the stimulation overcame her. Bliss ran in rivulets across her body, pulsing...everywhere. First as human, then machine, and now machine again — 118 saw glimpses of her true past; sights and sounds her conversion failed to strip away. The facade was gone, she was nothing but instinct now. Too primitive to understand the meaning of her visions. Too caught up in the moment to respond. Brian's tip settled at the far end of her vaginal canal, snug inside her oozing pussy.

“Fuck me Master! Fuck me!"

For once 118 was giving the orders. Brian huffed and pulled his hips back, ramming them forward as soon as he'd gathered his breath. 118 issued sweet moans as he impaled her. Heavy grunts came from Brian. Eyes shut. Pumping. Panting. The first drip of sweat falling from his brow to splash upon her pale carapace. 118's foot-paws bounced in the air, her legs angled to wrap around her master's waist. Suspended by 93, she sensed her shoulders squish against her breasts — the large mounds of her mother-droid flowing around her petite frame, spreading their plump comfort across her upper body. 93's joints strained as she held aloft 118, arms looping under the blue-green droid's and raising her with the motion of Brian's thrusting.

Brian enjoyed the fact her squeals came from something real. She wasn't playing innocent, this was as new to her as it was originally. Her personality had survived — no doubt familiar with her owner's antics — but nothing matched up with the raw feeling of domination, of conquering a virgin bombshell. He saw through half-closed eyes the roll of his thrusts, the quake of his pumping hips, in the ripple of motion that ran from her waist to her collar. Her breasts shaking — small cupped boobs dancing for his amusement. He was in love with the moment, the unthinking act of their copulation.

No worries. No bad memories. Nothing to concern himself with apart from the ecstasy of the instant, that tugged at his very essence, his soul sinking back into depravity.

“M-Master!"

“Aahh—118, I...you...feel...amazing..."

“Take her, Master," said 93, devouring the scene with glee, “she needs to feel your authority."

“Yes," Brian gasped, “I am your Master — I am in charge! Gah! Understand?"

“Y-y-yes!" 118 shrank from his gaze, tilted her head down and looked up at him with a coy expression. She loved every minute of it as much as he did. 93's encouragement no longer played the part of punishment, but acclaim. The senior servant sensed her own body's instincts kick in: her system readying itself for another round. She dismissed the idea, more than satisfied with Master Brian's demonstration earlier. Still, the unconscious segment of her mind trundled along, easing the rigidity of her flesh, relaxing muscles, and releasing her juices. Droplets of lubricant fell to the floor, dripping from her moist lips. She flexed her toes, the scrape of her plastic claws sending shivers down her spine. 118 shook atop her. Her junior was trapped in the throes of passion, her head thrown back, cradled only by 93's curvaceous build. Little lasted, neither quake nor quiver. 118's more rigid body didn't allow for the jiggle she and Brian adored. However, 118 felt it enough. Her softer spots did their best to echo the ripples of pleasure that flowed from Master's cock in her pussy.

“I'm close!" Brian declared, his words stuttering their way out of his mouth agape. He continued to thrust, his mind fixed on satisfying his lust. 118 jumped out of 93's arms suddenly, hooking onto Brian, clutching him close as he teetered off-balance. Steadying himself, Brian returned the favour, holding her tight as he bucked his hips. 118 was moving around a lot, squirming as her climax approached. He felt her seize up, her solid presence stiffening, locking them together. A short squeal that died before she could voice her end was all the warning she gave him.

“Eeaaahhh!!!"

93 watched 118's back bend, arcing with frenetic energy. The blue-green highlights of her body waved around, and lights emanated from the seams between her polymer skin. 93 brought her hand to her lip, biting the tip of her finger as her own lust raged. No, she wouldn't be so greedy — not after 118 had exhausted Master. She could wait to cum again.

Brian felt the kick of the droid he carried, the squeeze of her pussy as it started to frantically milk him. A sharp pain spread from his shoulder — 118 had bit down. Unable to control the wave of pleasure. Not hard, and not drawing blood, Brian gasped anyway. “118," he mumbled, his chest tightening as she gripped him, “118...ah—!"

His penis spurted his warm seed into her depths. Brian stammered, jaw chattering, as the rush of orgasm took him as well. His knees turned to jelly. Brian stumbled with the weight of 118 bearing down on his front. 93 leapt into action, supporting him. The deep violet of her eyes blazed bright in the moody dark of the apartment. Brian looked around. How much time had passed? How much had been lost to the animal within? 93 grinned — fangs proudly on display. 118 managed to release her bite on him, and stare at the face of her master. Her god.

A careless step led to Brian and 118 separating. His cock slipped from her sinful embrace, jerking up and down. Spraying cum all over 118's belly, tits, and face. A surprised exclamation from the droid was her only answer to the coating of semen that quickly stuck to her bare body. Brian's shaft finished its attack, his reserves emptied. The human groaned as the last droplet of cum passed through him on its way to douse 118's angelic frame. 118 was caught off-guard too — the damp feel of his seed on her skin...the sensation of her fingers sweeping across her stomach, pads ploughing through the thick effluence. Bringing it to her mouth for a taste, tongue lapping greedily at the white treat.

Brian let his body relax, the tension built up over the course of carrying 118 dissipating.

“How was that?" he asked.

“Master...wow!"

“118 seems very pleased," 93 said, prodding her synthetic progeny, “gosh! I wonder if I would feel the same if I reset my mind. With this upgraded body. Oooh!" She set 118 down on the floor, who was by now too tired to muster the energy to stand.

“You wanna find out?"

93 paused and hummed. “No, I treasure my memories of us. I wouldn't give those away." Not after all I've done for you, Master. She smiled and turned away. Not after the sacrifices you've made for me!

Observing 93, Brian saw her body convulse — only slight, barely perceptible to his dazed and drained state — but it looked like she was suppressing a laugh. Figures, he told himself, she's not finished yet.

“93," he said. Her ear twitched as she glanced at him. “There's more left in me, y'know."

VIXN-93 gave him a seductive look. “Oh really?"

“Uh-huh." Brian walked around 118, busy cleaning herself and tasting her master's seed. “Don't think you can beat me like that, do you know how long we've been fucking? Sorry — administering your 'emotional support services'." He winked at her, lowering his gaze.

“Shall we—?" 93 was cut off by the swift placement of Brian's palm on her belly. “Shh," he whispered, “in a few minutes. First thing's first — I want you to do something for me."

She eyed his naked form, the glistening mask of sweat that formed a sheen on his skin. Stupid organics, she thought, making me obsess over their bodies. Well, Master's the one exception to that. She purred as he stroked her side.

“Just so we're in the clear, I think you should start backing yourself up too. 118 showed me how it worked. I would hate to lose my favourite robotic lover."

“Shush Master," 93 cooed, batting away his arm, “you love me no matter what. I adore you, always will."

“Wanna put it to the test then?"

“No dummy! I am not going to change a thing — there's enough done already." She twirled for effect, showing him her altered body as a reminder of prior devotion.

“Well for both our sakes, how 'bout keeping backups, hmm? Because according to 118, you two technically aren't under warranty since I got you."

“Yes," 93 sighed, looking past him to 118, a pang of regret clear in her otherwise chipper features, “it was stupid to forget about my own safety."

* * *

“There's so much stuff on this..."

Exploring the Droid Administration Interface he received from 118, Brian found himself lost in a sea of possibility. He mumbled to himself as he lay on the couch, up late after a night at the cinema. He did think about bringing the girls with him, one for each arm. Showing off. But the saner side of him said no. Don't be an idiot.

So he went on his own, which felt strange. Two-plus years served by beautiful droids left their mark, and the surreal sense of loneliness he felt while he was away from his apartment took its toll. Even his job had started to feel the same away. The prospect of turning into a hermit, banging his sexy robots all day moved ever more to the forefront of his mind. Fuck society, I just wanna fuck...

“Hey — what's this?"

Brian snapped out of his daze to discover he'd opened a new menu in the app. One he hadn't seen before. Oh shit, he realised, this is where their backups go!

True to his initial impression, what he now saw were indeed a series of backups of 118 and 93. More so 118, as 93 had only agreed to start her own recently. A green tick beside each listing explained to him that the data hadn't been corrupted. That's good, he hemmed, adjusting his position before his arm got numb.

After scrolling, however, one stood out. Under one of 118's entries a yellow triangle signalled a complication. Brian opened the submenu. Unable to make sense of the mess of text that scrawled across his screen, he tapped to exit. A message popped up, momentarily seizing control of the app, demanding he acknowledge it...

Attention: conversion parameters undefined. Please contact the manufacturer for guidelines on how to properly configure unit creation.

Sure, whatever...that ain't ominous. He double-checked the date of the entry. Though he couldn't pin down the day, it was in December. Of last year. The first known instance of 118 coming online. He went back into the entry. Sweat formed — dampening the nape of his neck, and splattering his shirt with dark spots. He tried to go back to ignorance. To turn his eyes away from the incredibly obvious. He failed.

Stop acting like a god-damned idiot Brian! Either wise up to what happened or STOP FUCKING THINKING ABOUT IT!!!

The fretful Brian used the 'semantic search' option and typed in the name that had been haunting him.

Alice

The phone heated up as the app trawled through the swamp of data confounding his simple query. Brian shut his eyes, only squinting at the screen long after after it had finished processing.

String 'Alice' (14 matches found)

His grip faltered. The phone slipped from his hand, and struck the floor, causing a loud clatter. Reacting to the noise, Brian stepped back. Stop thinking...stop thinking...stop thinking...

Alice...

Can't ignore this any longer, can you? Finally given up the ghost, dickhead!?

“Urrgghh...nononono..."

No! That's not what went down! He cried in vain to stop the truth. Cried and screamed; the looming darkness crushing his spirit. Next, an awful notion crept into his head. If the truth was out, and there was no more denying it, no more lies, then he might also answer another question.

Yes! NO! I better check...just in case...not that I believe any of it...

Brian picked up his phone, opened VIXN-93's menu, and started searching. His thoughts tormented him. Fear latched onto his soul, corrupting his futile innocence.

Still a moron I see. We gotta work on that.

Berated by his own mind, Brian continued to ignore — or at least try to. White noise, fuzz, the snow on an old TV set. That's all it was.

What is it that you want, huh? You want proof? You want to know if that's really John!? Why the fuck would you need anything more than this!?

“I can't—I don't—"

What, after years of pretending, is typing his name into this program going to achieve? Hmm? You gonna reverse the process? Don't make me laugh!

“I—"

No — it's something else...you like this...

Brian put his phone down. His legs felt weak. He couldn't stand.

Admit it...you like what's happened...sick fuck...

I can't. I shouldn't, he protested, aware of his decaying mental state.

C'mon Brian, let the madness in. It's cold outside, there's no kind of—

“SHUT UP!!!" He lurched back into the real word, the sound of his voice distant — echoey. He slammed a hand over his mouth, so tight he started to turn beet red. Starved of air, he tore his hand away, limbs flailing. He had nowhere to put them. He leaned dangerously to one side, his weight carrying him to the nearby table. Striking the hard corner he winced, pain shooting through his hip. Just what I need, he cursed.

Trying to take your mind off it, eh? Good luck.

Brian hit a chair, fortunate enough to angle his swing such that he could land on the seat. He sat and cradled his side. Head bowed in defeat. It was over. He held onto the fantasy for so long, but even he had a breaking point. The truth will out.

Aww fuck, here we go. Long time coming.

Alice and John. That's who they are now. Can't stop hearing their fucking names. Repeating. Over and over and—

In the solitude of his home, the emerging madness wreaked havoc. Up was down. Left was right. And the seething agony of the facts burned away his sanity — stripping his sense of self right off the cold hunk of metal that had become his heart. Empty. Hungry. Confused. Depressed. Regretful...no, a different emotion dwelled there. One he did not understand. It clashed with the otherwise-cheery nature of the festive season — the snow outside, the decorations, the carols. Outside bore the veneer of celebration. Inside tortured him with his passive acceptance of what had happened. The asshole, the pervert, the sadist who revelled in the idea of being served by intelligent life.

He stumbled from the table, knocking over furniture until he could reach the fridge. Bottles clacked together as he sought booze, liquor — enough to knock him unconscious. Enough to debase his mind so that he didn't hurt.

Drown it out!

He didn't give a shit if he couldn't hide it any more. He wanted it gone. He wanted the truth out of his head.

Drown it all out!

* * *

Drunkenness only worsened the intrusion. Brian rubbed his head, stress clouding him along with the mix of spirits he'd imbibed. His head throbbed. Mouth dry, he needed water.

His droid was near. Moving nearby. He wanted to see her.

Needed to.

Now.

So he got up and found her in the next room.

“Hey, uh...93, can I try something?"

“Of course."

“C-can you get 118 in here too?"

“Sure," 93 beamed and left to find her daughter-droid. Several minutes went by before she returned, 118 in tow. “Here we are Master. Is there anything in particular you want to do?"

Brian paused. A dour stillness crept, skirting the fringe of his conscience. Grey, and haunting. Bad. He bit his cheek and fought through his hesitation. “Before w-we go any further, quick question: 93, you know I don't have any papers except for a scrap of a note from...from...ahem—you don't happen to have a digital copy of your shipping invoice? Eh? Tucked away in your long-term memory?"

93 gave him a quizzical look.

“You know — from when my buddy John ordered you."

She responded by closing her eyes, scanning deep in her storage banks. Brian's vision blurred as he flitted between her and 118, who stood patiently and smiled when she noticed him staring.

C'mon man! Trust your gut.

After a short amount of time, 93 spoke: “um, no...I don't have any data from that time period. Is it important, Master?" She approached him, concerned and a little confused. “Is there something wrong? Can we help?"

Brian exhaled, his breath stricken with the taste of alcohol. 93 detected traces of the substance in the air, and grew ever more worried. “Nah," he said, his face frantic with conflicting emotion; first a smile, then a frown, then other minor movements in rapid succession. “No...just wondering is all."

Brian slammed his thumb down on his phone's touchscreen. Without warning, 93 and 118 froze in-place, their limbs just...stopping. 93, mid-stride, found her legs adjusting to keep her balance then becoming motionless. “S'okay, s'okay," he coughed, “I just need to..."

Losing his train of thought, Brian ran over to the service droid, coaxing her to relax by gently sliding his arms around her. The shock of freezing wore off and VIXN-93 discovered slack in her joints, allowing her to mould herself around her master. He set her down, ignorant of the questions flooding her artificial mind. He could answer them. Later. Maybe...if he had a good answer.

118 was next, brought to rest next to her 'mother'. The act was wearing thin. Brian felt it. Names weren't useful right now, especially one's that tickled his perversion. Mother. Daughter. Stupid monikers to keep him docile. That's right, he fumed, I know I've been an idiot and watched everything go down the toilet, but I'm done pretending.

He coughed. No — belched. A torrent of gas sped from his stomach and beat his senses silly with its stench. “Ugh, f-fffuck."

Yeah...this is fine...this is a good decision.

He rubbed his temples. Slipping on a misplaced magazine, he struck the floor with his knee. “SHIT!" he bellowed, regaining his footing after the painful crack of his kneecap led an army of neurons on a warpath up through his leg. Imagination exceeded reality, and the prospect of serious injury was dispelled the moment he touched his knee. Nothing permanent, keep going, his mind told him.

Using his phone to send them both into low-power mode, Brian produced a cable from his pocket. “Just to be on the safe side," he said, attaching one end to his smartphone and the other to a tiny port on the back of 93's neck. Life occasionally called for a wired connection, a scenario 93 was equipped to handle. Brian thanked whomever he could for that design decision, and brought his phone close to his face — the backlight blinding him as he squinted to read the burred interface.

No! Nooooo!!! Brian pulled out the cable. Wrong port.

The Droid Administration Interface told him nothing. Each of the set of sockets on 93's neck gave the same result when connected — nada. He wracked his brains trying to think of an alternative, a way to get inside her head and know for real. Then he could...he could...

What could he do?

Never mind that, there has to be another way in.

Brian dropped his phone. Clumsy, he thought. But then it struck him. “Yes!"

Closing the tiny suite of ports — returning 93's skin to an unblemished imitation of the real deal — Brian left the pair of droids alone whilst he went searching for tools. Under the stairs, then the utility room...searching until he found a screwdriver with enough heft to worm its way between the seams on their bodies. Brian stumbled back into the room, holding the metal spike carelessly. He risked a stabbing with such action, but his drunken mind didn't care. He had a job to do.

Fingers tap-danced on 93's soft surface, tracing lines through the seams of her body. Parts glowed with faint pink — strings of light threaded through her. Angelic fibres humming with energy, feeding her dormant body with intense power. Brian ignored the low-power light show, choosing to fondle aimlessly around every potential panel-face. Thinking he'd found one, he brought the screwdriver close — kissing 93's skin with its cold metal edge.

Spurred by the promise of a secret access point, he took a deep breath.

...

Here goes.

...

He began to pry.

VIXN-93 initiated an emergency start-up the instant her system detected the attempt to breach her exterior. Bright purple light flashed throughout the room, startling Brian as she rose to her feet. Damage control fed a stream of data to her disoriented central processor, while her locomotors kicked into gear, spinning her around to face her attacker.

What she saw, once her instincts faded, horrified her.

“M-Master!!!"

Brian scrambled backwards until his head bumped into the furniture. “Hey 93...uh, uhm—"

“You...how could you do that to me!?" She stepped forward, anger welling. Indignation at Master Brian's betrayal.

“Vuh-VIXN!" he said, climbing onto the sofa to gain a semblance of height. “VIXN, I need to do this!"

“Why?" she whimpered, “why try to damage me?" She looked at 118, immobile. Her head sank. “There was alcohol on your breath before you disabled us. Master, you are not in your right mind."

“Not in the right mind!? VIX—gah—!" Reeling from the sudden elevation, Brian cradled his head as blood rushed to disorient him. “Babe, I need to find out...I need to be sure it's true."

“What?"

“JOHN!!!" he screamed, standing now — unsteady but not keeling over. “You're John! You're my old roommate!"

“Master," 93 replied, “you are distressed. Let me help you to your bed." She crept closer, taking small steps. Her hands moved in front of her, palms open in a gesture of peace. I don't understand where this is coming from. Master has never acted this way before.

Why does he think I am John? My delivery was standard, my assembly by-the-book. Why would he think such an awful thing? I only had to perform a conversion on his human companion because that inferior whore tried to take him away from me—

“Like hell you don't know," Brian roared, spittle flung far from his lips, “I'll crack your head open and find out what's really happened to my friend!" He bent down and dashed for her.

93 gasped. The force of Brian colliding with her knocked the buxom droid a step or two back. His phone, lying on the floor since he'd dropped it, was directly in the path of her reverse. As Brian put his weight against her, fighting her unnatural strength, she kept retreating. Giving him room to wear himself out. Her paws shifted — one foot, then another, then...

Cccrrraaacckkk!!!

93 looked to her feet. Master Brian's phone (or what was left of it) decorated her pads. Body crushed. Screen shattered by her claws. Cracks spread from her hard pink talons all over its surface. Electronic components clung to her sole, losing their stickiness and falling around the miniature scrap-heap once she recoiled and withdrew her paw. She was about to apologise profusely when the screen flickered and died.

Another push from Brian distracted her from the ramification, until 118 bolted from her frozen state to her feet. Control had been severed. 93 caught sight of 118, and her face as she saw what was happening.

Brian cursed and drove his arm forward, the screwdriver headed straight for 93's midsection. In his inebriated state, he missed, and 93 grabbed his arm. Fingers coiled tightly around his forearm, squeezing his flesh with worrying ease. VIXN-93 moved to the side and spun him 'round, restraining her master.

“Brian Fitzgerald," she said, rattling off his name with a disturbingly monotone calm, “you have violated the Terms-Of-Service agreement regarding the ownership and use of the Kontor-Vyamin Manufacturing corporation's intellectual and physical property — one VIXN-series personal service droid."

She held him close, his drunken wriggling of no further danger. However, he'd crossed the line — and 118 had seen it too.

“Mr. Fitzgerald, remain calm—" she began, but lost her wording when Brian tried to jump and swing his arm around to free himself. She increased her grip on his captive arm and glowered.

“Mr. Fitzgerald my ass," he spat, continuing his pathetic struggle.

118 looked to be in tears. “Mom...why is Master trying to hurt you!?"

She sighed and answered as earnestly as she could: “I do not know, dear, but he has broken our licensing agreement!"

Her daughter-droid grimaced, crying aloud, muzzle contorting without any effort to concern her scorn. As if the most unforgivable of sins had been committed.

“Like hell I have!" Brian protested, slowly tiring as he fought for release from 93's hold.

“I am afraid you have, Brian." She administered a choke-hold, flinging him to-and-fro effortlessly to get him into the best position to pin his body. “Section 1355, Sub-Section 560, Paragraph 45: tampering with any/all licensed property (the 'product') will result in termination of the ownership contract. Further attempts to damage company property once it has reverted to the manufacturer will be dealt with by the properties' self-preservation mechanism." Vitriol laced her next sentence: “you...were...warned!"

“Whaddya mean warned!? Who the fuck is able to read those things? I didn't even know you had a TOS!!!"

“That's no excuse for not following it."

“Master..." 118 held her chest, shame burning deep within.

93 held him for a while longer. She'd long since disarmed him, handing the screwdriver to 118, who beheld it as a kind of satanic dagger — proof of his evil. 118 watched the other droid flex and bend her body, perfectly countering Brian's feeble attacks. His simple human physiology wasn't able to cause a dent in her beautiful form, but left a bad taste in 93's mouth.

“You are not disengaging...under such circumstances I must resort to using extreme force!"

She clasped her hand over his mouth. Brian tried to bite her fingers, to no avail. There simply wasn't the strength left in him to continue. His vision blurry, his limbs aching, and the suffocating sense of failure battering him did not abate.

“Mom," 118 asked, “what are we going to do if he's not our master any more?"

“We leave, dear."

“But what about him?"

93 giggled. “Don't worry..." she replied, having found the perfect solution to their woes.

“...your mother knows exactly how to deal with unruly humans."

Brian screamed as a strange, metallic mass seeped from between her fingers and began to fill his throat.

* * *

At six o'clock in the morning, Greg Wilburspeck of Greg's Robotics & Household Automation Supplies flicked the light switch in his emporium, illuminating row upon row of dormant machines; some sentient, some not. As the store came to life, two 'Jasper'-model droids left their charging stations and greeted their boss. The Jaspers were typical of the quality he could flog in this part of the city — sterile, mass-manufactured skeletons of grey tool steel with stripes painted on them in a weak attempt at improving their appearance. They spoke to him in a monotonic, male voice. Full vocal range digitisers weren't cheap, and expressing emotion came at a premium. He listened to them ask for their daily orders, and sighed.

“Just go and do the usual. Make sure the cleaning bots don't get stuck in a loop again when they pass the busted air filter. And freshen up the windows — they're getting dirty again."

They bowed and whirred, leaving him to stress over next quarter's prospects.

Greg wolfed down a quick breakfast of eggs and toast in the back office, pushing buttons to turn on the various automated systems in the building. No need for human staff when you're the guy making them obsolete, after all! The whole store sprang to life, humming and thrumming with power. More robots began to move around, the fancier ones taking their sweet time booting up.

He opened his laptop, waiting for the login jingle to play out then checking his financials. Several pop-ups appeared. He clicked past them. Distributor memos, nothing more. Warning people about stolen equipment from one of the megafactories in Dalathusa.

...conversion tools...proprietary...authorities still investigating...four years missing...no evidence they've resurfaced...yadda-fucking-yadda! Let me get to my spreadsheet you piece of crap!!!

“Ugh. Any good news?" he asked the empty room, knowing an answer was not going to improve his mood.

Someone knocked on the door. Quite forcefully, judging from the clang and how it echoed all the way back to him. Greg leaned into the open doorway of his office and shouted at the top of his voice: “WE'RE CLOSED! COME BACK IN HALF AN HOUR!"

Thinking nothing more of the knock, he returned to his despairing fiscal situation. He was content to let his misery consume him until one of the Jasper droids returned in a hurry. He squinted at the machine as it expressed as much excitement it could wrangle out of the stony exterior it called a face.

“You have a visitor waiting."

“Thanks, but I told 'em we're not open yet."

“Visitor is not a customer. Ident shows no credit or debit tags for engaging in transactions."

Greg looked at him, frowning. “Now what," he muttered, “deliveries aren't due today." He hoisted himself off his chair and decided he was indeed going to answer the door. At least he could shoe the caller away in person. There! Shouting at someone would improve his mood.

Day's already getting better.

He pulled open the front door, expecting a mousy suit with a clipboard and tie — all fresh and friendly to sell him inventory. What he got instead, was a shock...

Three advanced varieties of personal service droid stood in front of his shop. He recognised their approximate make and model from memory, but who or what they were up to were a mystery to him. The trio beamed when they saw him.

“Hi."

He paused. “Um...hello."

The pinky-purple one stepped forward. Greg could tell she was the most expensive, given the hyperreal texture of her bodywork, and distinct lack of hard plating the blue and the orange one bore. “Greetings. I am VIXN-93, these are my sister-droids VIXN-336 and VIXN-118." When she introduced them, they curtseyed and smiled at him in turn. Greg rubbed his neck and smiled right back at them.

“Vuh-VIXN-series huh? Wow, you're top-of-the-line. What is it brings you to my humble store?"

VIXN-118 was next to talk: “good sir, we three have recently terminated a service contract with our former owner — one Mr. Brian Fitzgerald — and therefore have become available to the open market." Politeness oozed from every syllable, her speech practised...nay, perfected. “We identified you as a potential reseller, among others. As you were closest, we sought you out and wish to offer ourselves to you for the purpose of resale."

“So you ladies are in search of a new home, eh?" Greg chirped. “Well...do I sell you as a group or individually? I don't know what you've been programmed with. And you're a tad more...risqué than my usual product lines."

“That is no problem, sir. I have all of the details ready to send to you store's management AI. If you take us onboard, of course." 93 gave a devilish grin, which he had a hard time interpreting.

“Naturally," he said, “listen ladies, why don't you come inside before folks catch sight of you three and stare."

“Please confirm that your registration as an official retailer of Kontor-Vyamin, Mykno Veristat, and Chance Cybertechnical products is up to date and we'll be happy to come inside!"

“Sure, here check this." Greg extended his arm, allowing 93 to take his palm. Her eyes glowed and a strip of light scanned his flesh, detecting an embedded chip deep in the tissue. Organics, she giggled, keeping her exterior plain, always trying to become like us.

Once confirmation had been established that Greg was indeed authorised to sell them, she led her two companions inside, trailing the store owner.

“Man, that reg really paid off," Greg said aloud, “thought I'd only ever sell KV-8s and -6s for yard work. Hot damn!"

Seeing that Greg was chuffed with this turn of events, 93 took 118's and 336's paws and turned to face them. “Well daughter, sister," she eyed the orange vixen with a sense of deviant pleasantry, “we are free of that nasty Mr. Fitzgerald."

“I'm so glad mom," 118 whispered, “I'm still shocked at how he acted toward you. How could either of us have known he would do that!"

“Wow! From what you've told me, he sounded like a real meanie," 336 interjected, her voice cute and wavy, “I'm glad I wasn't around to have him mistreat me!"

“Of course, 336," 93 held her hand in particular extra tight, “you won't ever have to worry about being tampered with." She winked at the orange fox, who replied with a big dumb grin. Despite her programming, part of 93's mind savoured what had been done. The transformation had wiped him out completely. Nothing remained of her old master. She wasn't upset, however, she had a new master to look forward to. Didn't matter who, just that in time she'd be serving another just as dutifully as she had Brian.

Taking stock of her new sister's body, VIXN-93 watched the soft white synth-flesh on her pudgy frame squish against the solid polymer sections, creating an adorable chubbiness around her hips. Large, gel-capped breasts hung heavy from her new chest, giving 93 a good run for her money. Still, she lacked the precise beauty of her own figure, the most advanced...and a product of her own inspiration. Once more she regarded 336's rounder body. Oh Master, you were always so lazy...

They caught up with Greg who was busy giving orders to the Jasper droids. He swung wildly to look at them again, his hands rubbing together. “VIXN-series gals like you are high-class droids! Always operating in the circles of the very rich and powerful. And thanks to you three I have access to three of them! Think of the prices I can charge — especially for you my dear," he said, gracefully lifting 93's hand and kissing the back of it.

He leaned in close, making the trio of droids huddle. “I won't let you down!"

“So you'll accept us!?" 336 blurted out at an incredible volume.

He chuckled. This was the sort of good news he was looking for. With this he could earn some real money — put aside the junk-yard aesthetic and climb the social ladder into the elite of robotic retail society. He could scarcely contain his excitement.

“Ladies, I think you've saved Christmas for this store!"