63-15-40

[fmn8k]

Reposted with permission of the authour -
[email protected] who retains copyright.

63-15-40
By
Cynetta Cynthia Cynclaire
September © 1997

RECEPTIONIST-ADVENTUROUS, ATTRACTIVE,
WILLING TO BE ALTERED, OBEDIENT, COMPUTER LITERATE
ROBOTICS FIRM OFFERS HIGH $$'s TO THE RIGHT INDVIDUAL.
PHOTOS & RESUME TO
HI-TECH, BOX 786312 THE DAILY PO BOX 1287
OLETOWNE NJ 07654

Well I fit most of the qualifications, for thirty-two cents what the Hell? I needed a job, desperately.

The place was certainly remote. I wondered what prompted them to select this site in the middle of an active farm surrounded by wooded hills in Northwestern New Jersey and install a six-foot cyclone fence with security guards around them? As I pulled before the modern glass building, I parked where the attractive female guard indicated.

"Leave your attaché case here, in the car. No one will disturb it," she said as I exited my car.
"But I need my resume?"
"I am sure they already have a copy. Come along."

She needed to speak her name and number into a panel beside the entrance then stare into a lens for a retina scan before gaining admittance to the foyer, devoid of anything but a silver bundle on the floor, a large logo and two stainless, sliding, elevator type doors. We'd not long to wait before one slid open and two women in lab coats covering their gray knit catsuits came to join us. In the high heels of their polished silver knee boots, both were a head taller then me, but I'm short anyway, just five foot, two, if I stretch.

"Please undress, Mr. Simmons?"

"You can't be serious? What kind of an interview is this?"

"An interview for a very special type of occupation. Our ad did state, specifically, that the candidate must be obedient. If you do not wish to obey such a simple order, Magda will accompany you back to the gate and you may depart."

I needed any job, far too much, to give up before I even actually found out what they might offer. I began by removing my suit jacket and necktie. The guard, Magda, took them, folding them neatly on the floor. When down to my briefs, I hesitated.

"Come Mr. Simmons, I doubt you have anything there worth hiding." Magda moved to the silver bundle picking up most, under it was a pair of white boots, with high, spike heels? She extended a tiny thing toward me.

"Put on the brief, Mr. Simmons." The one who'd done all the talking, ordered. Thankful for anything to cover myself, I stepped into the silver elastic and pulled it up, into place.

"Reach in a tuck everything back between your legs, so there is no unsightly bulge, Mr. Simmons."

Despite having undressed to nakedness before the three women, I was glad I'd no reaction. Next was a form fitting one-piece catsuit of the same silver, elastic fabric. Magda, the guard, held my shoulder to steady me, as I raised one foot to step into it. By just the touch of her fingers there, I knew she possessed a physical strength well beyond my own. The suit had feet, like pantyhose and when I'd gotten it up high enough to slide my arms into the sleeves I discovered that they ended in gloves. Magda stepped behind, pulling the suit over my shoulders, then slipping a helmet over my head after smoothing my, below the shoulder length, hair back. It had an opening covered by clear domed plastic over my face. Assuring everything was smoothed and wrinkle free, she pulled up the zipper in back to the top of the suit's high, snug collar. I felt kind of silly in this outfit, but reminded myself of my need for employment.

Magda had picked up the boots and knelt before me, obviously wanting to put them on me. What the Hell? I raised my foot so she could work it into the boot. My foot had to arch to accommodate the extreme heel, probably over five inches high. I raised my other to let her put its mate on my foot.

No, I didn't teeter and wobble. I stood still with straight knees. Yes, I'd wore heels before, quite often. I'm pre-op TS. When I'd removed my shirt they'd given no reaction to my B- breasts and hairless body, as if they were fully prepared to see those.

"We can handle her from here, Magda. You may return to your post." Most definitely I had heard her say 'her'! through the fabric covering my ears.

"Come." Without any action on their part, the elevator doors opened. We went down! Our heels echoing off the smooth hard walls I was led to a room. In it was a glass slab with a joystick and keyboard. Before it was a futuristic chair, a bondage chair!

"Please be seated, Miss Cynclaire?" My head snapped to face her. Grinning, "Yes we know much about you already. Please cooperate and we will get on with this."

In shock, I moved onto the contoured plastic and metal contraption and settled down. It felt like it had been molded to fit my own body. When the two halves moved to cover my torso from under my breasts to low on my abdomen, I realized it was far to late to even consider any resistance.

"Thank you, Miss Cynclaire for making this so easy for everyone concerned. It is seldom that we have such qualified and cooperative applicants. Do try to relax. Nothing that is going to happen ... now, that will hurt ... much."

A metal posture collar was fitted to force my head erect and immobile. They fussed a bit connecting things from the chair to it. Crouching, they positioned my booted feet into clamps. Straightening, they placed metal cuffs to cover my forearms and these were then connected to the slab before me by an elaborate linkage.

"We will put your helmet on now. Please remember that we have no intention of hurting you, now." A solid thing was slipped down to cover my head, carefully positioned then they fastened the faceplate and the collar that they'd placed on me, to it. It had pieces that blocked my vision outside the plastic faceplate.

I could still move, but just my arms and fingers. I had to just sit for what I guessed ten minutes or so.

Suddenly what was before my eyes came alive, I guessed these were like virtual reality goggles, though I'd never worn them before. The earphones began with soft music. What I saw was probably an image of myself in the bare room. I moved my hand to check and the image moved as I had.

"Hi, Cynetta." The image of a very attractive blonde spoke. "I am Dara, Director of HI-TECH. Thank you for applying to our firm. Please refrain from speaking - we can't hear you right now if you do, but the sensors will pick it up.

"As you should have figured out, we do hope you are intelligent enough to have, we've done an extensive investigation of you already. We do know your preferred gender identity. We know many of your preferences, many of your skills and talents. With that stated, please do not lie to us during your interview.

"Move your fingers onto the keyboard." I did, feeling resistance to moving my forearms when I had. "Just type your responses, questions, etc., when appropriate, please, Cynetta?

"Do you enjoy the tight compression when you lace into one of your pretty corsets?" I typed 'Yes'. "Good. How tight have you ever been laced in?" 'Twenty-one inches'. Instantly, I felt the thing about my torso begin to compress slowly. "There you go. Twenty-one inches." I'd only done it that tight once and it had hurt too much, much like I hurt then.

Quickly I typed, "Please loosen it? It hurts, Dara."

"I'm not pleased that it does, but you did type twenty-one and that is how it will be. A caution, Cynetta - your circumstances now give you few choices. We do not wish any complaints, about anything. Complain and you will be punished."

The image switched to a girl, tightly corseted and strung up, her ballet-toed boots clear of the floor, being whipped on her rear and legs. The whipping was real and her screams reinforced it. Every stroke raised a deep purple welt on her pale skin. "Do you wish me to punish you, like her, Cynetta?" The image zoomed out to show Dara was beating the girl. It continued until I typed, 'No. I do not wish to be punished.'

"Very well." It was back on her behind a desk. "No Lies. No complaints. Understood?"

'Yes.'

"Let me proceed. The open position is one for a female android, a gynoid, if you prefer that term. Told you, we know a lot about you, including what is on your computer in detail. I took particular interest in some web sites you bookmarked that I did not know existed, before. Thank you.
"Question - Have you fantasized about Cynetta being a gynoid?"

I hesitated then typed, 'yes'.

It felt like the thing about my chest loosened, just a bit. "Truth earns rewards, Cynetta.

"Our classified ad stated the applicant must be willing to accept 'alteration'." She laughed, "Let me assure you that does not include replacing lots of flesh with machinery and electronics. We're good, but not that good, yet! We really had hoped for a suitable GG to apply but ... didn't happen. You'll do, Cynetta.

"For starters, the alterations will mean taking you, quote, all the way, unquote, with a sex change. We have the skill to give you a functional cunt, very sensitive and functional in about every way one can think, except getting you pregnant. Like that? It will be extremely hungry and sensitive and unlike normal constructions for a TS, able to get all juicy and wet when stimulated, either physically or mentally. What d' ya think, Cynetta?"

'YES!'

"Don't get over eager, silly girl," she giggled. "Even though you'll never get pregnant, your cunt will come with a price. We decided that your price for a very sensitive cunt, will be a full menstrual cycle every twenty-seven days, complete with the cramps, discharge and mood swings, good old PMS. You get a very hungry sensitive cunt and you pay for it with a period.

"I enjoyed another file, rather directory, on your computer, Cynetta." The images started, opened PhotoBrowse, it was my assemblage of gorgeous females and a few TS's with large breasts. As the images scrolled, "Seems Cynetta has a big boob fantasy." A waist up shot of Minka filled my vision. "I like this girl's tits.

"Just imagine the reaction she gets going to the supermarket with that chest."

Next, was my directory of corset images. Dara said nothing until one filled the screen. A pretty redhead in a black leather corset that I'd done considerable image manipulation on. "I think Cynetta altered this. You gave her a much smaller waist, and ... I'll bet those tits... They're Minka's tits aren't they?" She paused and the image enlarged to fill with just the breasts. " You even made them still bigger and ... Wow, look at what little Cynetta did to her aureoles and nipples! An answer, Cynetta - you did this?"

'Yes'

Another directory, this one of stories I'd collected from the web. It was a ScreenCam file that I watched. Scrolling down, the cursor clicked on ANDROID5.SAM. Opened, the text scrolled to the gynoid addressing a visitor.

"my-name-is-7-8-how-may-i-serve-your-plea-sure-to-day-mis-tress." The girl seated before me spoke in pure monotone without pauses, enunciation, or punctuation, very mechanical. I was fascinated." The rest of the text disappeared so that was all I saw in my eyes.

"Before I told you not to speak, I want you to now. In your best little girl voice, nice and high pitched, give me your best rendition reading what you see. Now, please, Cynetta?" I tried my best to do just what she asked. "Needs practice, but I like what I heard.

Images of female faces I'd greatly altered, before and after ones started to scroll. "I think you like to make pretty girls into very different looking things. Don't you? A response, Cynetta?"

'Yes'

"You are doing quite well. I'm pleased." The corset clamp loosened a tiny bit, again.

Screencam again with an index of stories from the web again. "Have you read all these?"

'Yes'

It started to scroll stories I had written. "You write these?"

'Yes'

Changing to focus on Dara again, she smiled, "Want the job? It’s yours if you do."

"Please, may I know the specifics?"

Shaking her head. "I already gave you more hints and specifics then I
might give another.

"Answer, yes or no.... Realize to, it might be much better, if you indicate that you do. You really are not in a position to refuse and I'd prefer that we do not have to persuade you." Back to the girl, she was still being brutally whipping. She was bleeding from several welts now, hesitating, I typed, 'yes. I agree. Please do not show me these scenes?'

The vision returned, immediately to Dara. "I'm pleased, Cynetta."

New images, me again. A silver hand placed a stack of papers near my hand. I saw and felt a pen placed in my fingers. "Sign it with your legal name, Cynetta."

When I tried to move my hand to the keyboard, the silver hand felt as strong as what I'd sensed in Magda's. It moved it back to the paper. My corset began to tighten, not stopping its constriction until I'd signed my name.

Image back to Dara. "You are a very silly, stupid little girl, Cynetta. I thought you were smarter. Oh well." She rose and left the camera. Image to me. Dara walked behind the chair I was bound in. She pushed the keyboard from my reach.

"Surgery, one of many, is being scheduled early in the morning. You could have avoided all the pain I'm going to make you suffer." There was a keypad on the chair, behind my shoulder, her fingers depressed some keys and the corset again started to tighten. "Your ribs are going to break. It will be done slowly, but break they will. You'll be ready for a tiny waist when you wake up, Cynetta."

Everything went blank. Screaming with pain, I felt and heard the lower ribs crack when they had been compressed beyond their limits.

*****

Not really in much pain, but very sore, deep, in many places, I finally was allowed to recover and wake up from whatever drugs they'd been pumping into my blood. I was bandaged and restrained on my back. I also felt I was in some corset-like thing again. Unable to see through the bandages covering my eyes, I could sense movement and see shapes move. A hand, it felt like it was latex covered, touched below my ear.

"sh-e-is-a-wake-in-form-dir-ec-tor-dar-a." Her voice sounded like what I'd imitated, very mechanical.

After several minutes, I heard a door open, "How is she, forty-three?"

"the pa-tient-is-nor-mal-dir-ect-or-dar-a-noth-ing-un-ex-pect-ed"

"Very good. Summon Dr. Martinson, please?"

Another entered five minutes later. "Is she ready to begin, Doctor?"

"Probably. Let her rest until morning before fitting her appliances. I'll remove the tubes and her bandages now, Director Dara. It will be alright if her mental training begins beyond the subconscious training already administered."

"Proceed."

The bandages on my face fell away when cut. I could focus on my tormentors. Dara grinned, "Love what you did with her face."

"I'd good material ... for a change."

"I doubt we'll get another, so good, soon, but we'll try." She leaned and skimmed my face, eyes, nose, cheeks and lips with just the tips of her nails while the bandages covering my breasts were being cut.

Straightening, "They're great! Great big! Just what I wanted. How long before she gives milk?" Dara questioned.

"They already are." The Doctor's fingers tugged and squeezed my left nipple. I felt it squirt and wet. "The new drug is beyond expectations. She's been lactating for four days now. At the rate she's progressing in response, I predict she'll need to be milked every day in about three weeks."

"Great! That's wonderful, really great."

I tried to speak, but a tube down my throat and one up each nostril, down deep, into me, prevented that. Dara rested her hand on my forehead. "You are going to be extra attractive, very much so when we finish with you. You can avoid a lot of pain and punishment, if you try to be pleasing and obedient. Want to avoid pain and punishment?"

She seemed so nice, almost loving. I nodded. "Good. Do you prefer the term android or gynoid? You didn't tell me that earlier." I'd no real answer. "OK. I prefer for you, gynoid. OK?"

I jumped, not quite believing the sensation I experienced when the doctor just lightly fondled the clit that must have been created there, after removing the thick bandages there.

She chuckled, "Might just be working as designed, Dara."

"It's your ass, if it did not."

She wiggled something hard, up inside, below the new protuberance.

"What's this?"

"Her pee valve. I cut the nerves and muscles to control her bladder, like you asked." I felt it being moved. "She pees when it’s opened, not when she wills it to. These terminals can be connected to whatever your techies design to control her."

"Her ass hole?"

"As ordered, Dara. Stop getting bitchy with me. She has no more control there either. She can't even shit on her own. It’s plugged and sealed. She'll need to be connected and enemaed then her valves are opened to do so.

"Before you ask, we'll need to wait to see if all the reconstruction gave her a period. Her body will take another month, or maybe two, before really kicking in. Try to be patient for a change, will you?"

"About as patient as you'll be, awaiting your punishment, if everything doesn't work on this."

Dara lightly cupped my new breasts, stroking them with her nails. Moving to my aureoles, "I said I want these to be like half oranges and her nipples as big as her thumbs!"

"Give them time, another month, Dara. Right now, all there is very hard, as you feel. Her nipples, aureoles and breasts will all nearly double, as her body grows about the devices I implanted."

Double? My breasts were already huge! Neither Minka, nor anyone one would be competition.

"How long before I can have her and begin fitting her?"

"You can have her now, for that. I need to remove the tubes."

Though she was gentle, doing it slowly, it still hurt a lot, as the tubes in my throat were extracted.

"Try to sit up." Dara and one of the nurses reached to grip and pull me up by my shoulders. Strange? I couldn't feel their hands touch. I didn't bend in my middle either. I tried to speak, but Dara pressed her fingers to my lips - they felt strange, my lips. "Don't try to talk now."

The sheet that had covered my body fell away as I was pulled to sit. I tried to bend to look down. I discovered my neck bore a high collar, much like the one on the chair. I could still bend it, but not as much and I could feel that what was there slide, in sections against/over itself, as I tried. All that I could see with my eyes lowered, I couldn't bend my head as much as before, was huge breasts with large aureoles and protruding, thick nipples. I couldn't see over them. My entire torso did not bend, all stiff, as if in the most severe corset designed and it hurt like a tightly laced one too.

The nurse pulled the sheet away that still covered my legs. At least, my feet looked the same. I'd been clamped and spread on my back to my bed and she undid those that held my feet in place. I was wearing pair of shiny, ankle high boots. These forced my feet into a nearly en-pointe shape, but not quite, my toes were just bent forward. With heels as thin as knitting needles that looked over seven inches high, my boots looked like chrome plated metal (they were). As the nurse swung my legs together then over the edge of the bed, she moved with Dara to hold my covered shoulders and upper arms.

"We'll help, try to stand." Though weak, I did get on my toes with them half lifting and supporting me. Very unsteadily, I had to fight and struggle to balance on my toes and extreme heels. My feet hurt! "Very good. Mirror's over here. We know you are dying to see yourself."

Still supporting much of my weight, I was helped to turn and walk, mince, the few feet to face it. I gasped, that hurt my chest. I could not believe that the reflection was actually mine until I moved my hand.

It like my other one, was encased in an articulated gauntlet 'glove' to my elbow, leaving the last joints of my fingers bare. I tried to access all they had put on my body. My high-heeled boots ended just above my ankles, from there to the cuirass/corset, my legs, ass and crotch were naked, but different. My hips seemed much wider and my cheeks a lot fuller and all soft and jiggling. My new sex was mounded and looked swollen. Protruding from just below the large clit they'd created, was a small, but complicated looking metal device. I guessed it was the valve that had been mentioned.

I was encased in a corset made of plated metal, like my boots. It was shaped to give me a waist that appeared as small as, the similar, high posture collar holding my head erect. The metal corset flared up to cover my lower chest and was shaped with 'cups' to lift and support just the lower thirds of my huge breasts spilling over the edges. These moved like half set Jell-O®, when I just breathed, quivering with the slightest movements. Around my new breasts, my corset continued to cover my shoulders and articulated sections depended from them, halfway to my elbows. A finger traced the edges in back. "Your new corset is low, so you can show lots of flesh here in back, like in front."

Hesitantly I inched a little closer to the mirror. "That's it, get a good look." Dara encouraged. I stared at the new face. They had made my eyes much bigger, into round circles, my cheeks were much fuller and higher and they'd altered my nose so it was now up turned in a ski jump end and my nostrils flared prominently. The biggest change was to my mouth. It used to be moderately wide with thin lips. Much narrower now, I had parted, very full, protruding, thick lips turned just up into a small smile at the corners and pouting for a big kiss. They looked swollen, but did not hurt.
I opened to speak, seeing the mass of steel covering my teeth, before Dara's hand went up to stop me.

"No talking! Come, we'll take you where you can get better aquatinted with your new body."

They continued to support me as I forced myself to mince between them from the room. This time, the elevator went up. Just like the other corridors, I was led to a steel door, one of several, that had all the looks and fittings of a modern, prison cell door, small thick glass observation panel, waist high pass through and very secure locking mechanism. I heard a beep and the door swung open noiselessly.

"Your quarters. In!" I was forced into a small cell, with walls, ceiling, and even the floor, covered with mirrored surfaces. There was a high, chromed stool inside - nothing else. They moved me to the stool and helped me until I perched on its small, hemispherical top. I couldn't actually sit. It was too small and shaped like a ball.

The room wasn't as devoid, as I'd originally thought. The nurse moved to draw a cable over from one side and clip it below my chin. From the other side she brought another and clipped it to the same ring, there.

Assuring I'd my balance and wouldn't fall and hurt myself, Dara let go of my shoulder and moved to face me. "Cheryl is going to attach some things to you so you can be emptied and periodically flushed. Be good and don't try disconnecting them yourself." She moved back to lean against the mirrored wall to give the nurse room to work.

"I want you to clearly understand your status. You are no longer considered a human. You are now a gynoid, a female machine with a semi-human brain. As a machine, a gynoid, you no longer have a name, but will be identified and referred to by your serial number, sixty-three-fifteen-forty. Remember it!

"You are not the first, nor the only one still here, so don't get to feeling unique, though I hope you are. So far, you do seem to be an improvement over previous models of your design type. We do strive to make improvements."

Cheryl pinched my ass, hard, causing me to stand. "Don't resist, she's going to install a device to flush out waste." I felt her lubricating my behind.

Dara continued as I felt the huge plug being inserted, "We did not do to you all that we could have while you were shutdown, 63-15-40. By the way, those are going to be your measurements, in inches, when we finish. We didn't do everything, because I think it might be fun, for me anyway, if not fun for you, to feel the rest and realize exactly what we are doing.

"You will have a few days here to further recover from all that has been done, so far, and begin our programming of your data banks, before we begin other modifications."

After the huge thing had finally been worked all of the way up into me, the nurse uncoiled several hoses, bundled together. I had to stand, so they could be connected to the rear fittings and a thin one through my legs, to the valve installed below my clit.

"You are just about ready, 63-15-40." 'Ready for what?’ I wondered. "Put your arms straight down, close to your sides." I felt a hard click behind each of my shoulders when the nurse raised her hands there. I could still move my arms, from my elbows, but they stayed rigidly in place, close to my sides, above them.

Producing two tapered metal rods about seven inches long from the pocket of her lab coat, Dara moved to one side and began inserting the curiously shaped end into my ear. It took time for her to insert it deep into my ear canal then expand it inside. When done with my other, I'd two antenna-like things in a perfect horizontal line sticking out from each side. She grinned at me, motioned with her chin to her assistant and, without another word, left the cell, closing and locking the door.

When the thing had been inserted up my rear and the hoses connected, I was no longer able to rest more that one, fat, soft cheek, or the other, on the stool. I'd never be able to actually sit on it, as it was too high, rather I had to keep my legs parted and straight, to keep my balance and just support, some of my weight on its top. It did not take long to discover that the cables connected to the metal posture collar limited me to standing up, moving about eighteen inches in any direction and resting my rear on the stool. That was all. I couldn't touch any of the mirrored walls. I couldn't kneel on the floor and, obviously, couldn't lie down. With my upper arms held at my sides, I had only very limited use of my hands. I could touch my upper thighs, my new cunt, metal corseted belly and the underside of my huge breasts and that was all. They just couldn't reach anywhere else.

Quickly I'd lost track of time. I'd no idea how long I stood with absolutely nothing happening before a very soft, sensuous, female's voice spoke in my ears. "Hello, 63-15-40. My name is Serina. I'm going to program you with data that you must have in memory to be a productive machine. First, it is very important to establish that you are a machine now, a much different machine than you have probably ever been exposed to before, but a machine none the less.

"You are machine number 63-15-40. Machines do not have names and that is not your name. Since you are a machine. It is your number, machine number 63-15-40.

"I am going to begin your programming with voice recognition and programming you to communicate by voice. It will be necessary for your memory to assimilate and store all information that you are programmed with then to recall and act upon it accordingly as your tasks require.

"Direct your vision sensors forward."

An image began to form a large rectangle on the mirror before me. It no longer was a reflective surface there, but a large screen, active matrix color display with text displayed.

"Upon your delivery, Director Dara had you recite in a very pleasing voice, much like a machine, some words. That is how you will speak, from now on, until your programming is changed. Assimilate that data and store it. Speak with no inflection, no emphasis, no pauses and no punctuation, just as the machine you now are, in a monotone. Begin to convert what your vision scanners register from the screen to sound, machine number 63-15-40."

"this-is-ma-chine-num-ber-six-ty-three-fif-teen-for-ty-be-ing-pro-gram-med-in-char-act-er-rec-gog-nit-ion" As I'd said each syllable, a voice print graph had appeared below them on the screen.

"For the first time, that was fair, machine number 63-15-40. Repeat, and strive to activate your speaker to a higher pitch and lower volume. Increase the time span, slightly, for each syllable. Begin."

I was soon taught that if I did not do things, as they desired, in this case speak in the exact specified manner, that I would be punished until I did. Apparently devices had been implanted inside of me in several places, behind my new nipples, within them, within my clit, along the inner lips of my new cunt, up my rectum, as well as devices and mechanisms on the insides of my collar, cuirass and gauntlets. All could be activated to do different things from simple mild vibrations, to intense shocks, burning and itching. I was being taught to avoid discomfort or intense pain, to do only as I was being programmed to do and apply the utmost efforts to do it as they wanted it.

For what must have been several hours, I was made to speak only like the machine they wanted, reading numerous screens of text while attempting to control my speech to keep the voice prints within their desired limits for the patterns.

"This period of programming is terminated, machine number 63-15-40." The screen disappeared to become mirror again. "Your fluid levels will be brought up to specification now. Without hearing a sound, a metal tube descended before me. On its end was a short flexible tube fitted with an oversized, rubber baby nipple. I had to stand straight and mince closer to reach it with my lips, knowing that I needed and wanted, whatever it offered. The fluid was room temperature and had a strange, almost metallic taste, maybe iodine, but it had been a long time since I'd known that. I started to suck. The tube retracted while I still desired more, despite its taste.

During the time I was kept in that cell, nothing but the lessons I was being programmed with changed. I was forced to learn to sleep standing up, resting one cheek on the stool, unable to lie down or even sit or kneel. Though hungry for something to fill my belly, but the fluid from the tube when it was offered, I guessed the fluid used for my periodic enemas must also be being absorbed into my body and providing some nourishment, too.

Finally, after what had to be many days, perhaps weeks, the door opened and two very strangely fitted, bizarre females entered the cell. Fitted identically to each other, making them look like cloned identical twins. They'd had metal helmets, collars, gauntlets, cuirasses and boots, similar to, but very different than mine. In addition, much more of their exaggerated bodies were covered with polished metal and clear plastic to enhance their robotic appearance.

The lips of one moved and I perceived a very slight pause, before I heard her through the receivers in my ears.

"i-am-ma-chine-num-ber-for-ty-three-six-teen-thir-ty-eight-bet-a-that-is-num-ber-for-ty-three-six-teen-thir-ty- eight-alph-a-we-are-as-sign-ed-as-me-chan-ics-to-tend-you-come." She hooked a leash to my collar and led me from the cell. Having to mostly stand, had allowed me to become accustomed to my boots, despite being forced up on their seven-inch heels.

I expected to hear our metal boots and echoes from the hard surfaces, but no sounds were received. I began to realize that I would only hear what they wished me to through the receivers’ sound sensors. Damn, I was starting to think like they wanted.

Nothing was said, rather my sound sensors registered no input, in the fairly long time it took them to add a lot more metal and clear plastic coverings to my body while I stood hooked to an overhead cable. I could watch in the many mirrors, being fitted to give me a much more robotic look with metal covering my thighs, lower legs, arms and plastic over my rear and breasts. The only areas uncovered were my face, crotch, my protruding aureoles, nipples and around the device that was still inserted up into my ass.

Before leading me from the chamber, metal tubes were slipped over my nipples. Connected by tubes to a machine. I had my first milking by machines. Though shocked and embarrassed to see I was actually producing milk like a cow, it was a rather pleasant physical sensation, until it continued after I'd been milked dry, almost filling the liter collection container.

The elevator ascended several levels and they placed me, hooked again to the ceiling, in a modern looking office then left. Director Dara appeared wearing her lab coat, smiled broadly at me and sat behind her desk. She read from a file for a moment then raised her eyes to focus on mine.

"We are pleased, very pleased, with the results, so far, machine number 63-15-40. The mechanism modifications are progressing better than just satisfactorily and, especially pleasing, is how well you are assimilating the program.

"All is not pain and torture for our machines. Quite the contrary, we have no desire to cause you to experience pain or discomfort. That is only administered to reinforce your program. It may be avoided entirely, if the assimilation progresses satisfactorily and there is no evidence of reverting to your old program. In short, behave as you are told and you won't be punished.

"You may even earn rewards.

"one of the rewards you may earn with good performance, machine 63-15-40, is to be taken from the complex and experience activities that humans find enjoyment in doing. Because of the performance we have witnessed, such an outing is planned for today."

After being in that mirrored cell, I felt elated with just the thought of seeing the sun. My thoughts changed to the possibility of escaping this group of crazies and I began thinking of ways to do it.

Dara grinned as if reading my mind. "Let me inform you of some details, machine 63-15-40, that your programming has not addressed." Instantly I felt as if every joint in what I'd been fitted with, lock up. My trying to move confirmed that they had done just that. Her smile broadening, my corset/cuirass began to contract and my collar soon closed off my breathing and blood flow to my brain. Instantly these relaxed.

"Enough of a demonstration? Must I program you to confirm that the mild discomforts you felt during previous programming sessions were merely tickles in your body compared to real pain?"

She straightened up. "No, I believe that your processor and the data stored, so far, is sufficient. I will not do that, unless ... you want me to?

"Your past programming has taught you proper speech, assure that your speech continues to function as programmed." I was still rigidly locked when my cunt felt as if she'd touched it with a blow torch that quickly, withdrew.

Dara unlocked my body and gave me permission to speak. "Would you like to go out?"

'yes-ma-chine-six-ty-three-fif-teen-for-ty-would-like-to-go-out"

"I'm pleased. Will it be necessary for us to lock your mechanisms and cause great pain?"

"no-that-will-not-be-nec-ces-sary" I added, "the-
pro-ces-sor-will-func-tion-the-mec-han-is-ms-as-pro-gram-ed"

"Direct the processor's signals to assure that you do, machine 63-15-40,” Dara grinned.

"Your sound sensors will provide the signals you are required to echo through your speaker. Do not hesitate, or fail, to echo these."

The two mechanics entered the office wheeling in a rack, which contained clothing. "As part of your reward, machine, you are permitted to select what your data base has registered as appealing, those you think you might like to wear today."

On my own, I was able to mince toward the rack so my hands could move them for a better look. From the five outfits available, all revealing and super fetishistic, I choose a black patent, micro skirt and sheer, long sleeve top. The mechanics began removing all the plastic and metal pieces other then those I had initially been fitted with, which I'd learn were permanent, my boots, corset/curiass, collar and gauntlets. They placed the sheer top on and the skirt. "Seventy-eight, put a garter belt and latex leggings on 63-15-40. Perhaps these will help her adjust to being seen by humans." The leggings were not exactly like stockings, which because on my boots, I could no longer wear. Ending at mid thigh, inches of bare flesh remained exposed with just the black garters lining my upper thighs, below my hem. I looked like a streetwalker in a robot costume. One of the mechanics fastened a chain that looked much heavier than it was, to the ring below my collar and led me to the elevator.

In the bare lobby, I was tethered to a ring and left alone for maybe an hour. Outside it looked like the early morning of a bright, sunny day. The movement of one of the doors opening caused me to face there. Two girls emerged. Their lips and movements indicated they were in conversation, but, as usual, I could hear nothing. Both appeared to be about eighteen, twenty, at the most, and like fashion models, knock 'em dead, gorgeous. A blonde and a brunette.

The brunette wore a polished, soft black leather suit, its mini revealing beautifully shaped legs in black sheer stockings that ended in six inch heeled, ankle strap pumps of black patent. Her long waved mane framed her exquisitely made up face and was topped with a black cartwheel hat.

In contrast, the blonde was dressed in an extreme, little girl, party dress from the twentieth century. Yellow velvet, with white, pouf sleeves over a very, stiff, extra, full, white petticoat, so short, the ruffled white panties underneath, showed. Her legs were bare to ruffle cuffed white anklets with white-strapped shoes bearing six-inch heels also. Her hair was fixed into nineteenth century ringlets with large white ribbons above each ear and her makeup gave her a porcelain doll like look. Both girls were much taller than I.

They seemed to not even notice me as their conversation, with bright smiles to each other, continued. The blonde turned her back, causing me to notice she bore a white leather harness of wide girth and shoulder straps that crossed on her back and was locked on. I watched the brunette clip the white wrist cuffs to the sides of her girth when the blonde moved them to her waist. Still not even having looked at me, I watched the end of my chain released from the hook on the wall, positioned to where her straps crossed and a large lock close through the end link to the ring there.

I'd carefully been watching both; neither had so much as looked in my direction. The brunette opened the door and with a little curtsey the blonde started outside. I'd no choice but to follow her. I felt my tits and my ass begin to bounce and jiggle a lot! There was nothing I could do to stop that!

Brunette was beside her bound companion and walked to a car, parked where mine had last been. She tended the hatch to the rear compartment, blonde entered and sat, facing me for the first time, she grinned, groped to grip the chain, rippling it and pointed to the seat next to her. Though I couldn't move as I once did, I was not locked in any way and was able to sit. She grinned and seemed to address me.

Getting no response from me, the blonde tapped the arm of the brunette, driving, speaking forward. My ears crackled. "Can you hear me 63-15-40? You may activate your speaker."

"yes-i-can-now-hear"

"Great!" She giggled like a little girl. "I'm Robynne, R-O-B-Y-N-N-E. That's Estri, she's First Girl."

Robynne swiveled in her seat to face me. Grinning, ear to ear, she looked down, struggled, very briefly, with her restraints then met my eyes. Wrinkling her pink glossed lips, then smiling, "I'm a slave girl. Kinda like you, but not a machine, like you. I'm one of Mistress Dara's pleasure sluts."

More giggles, "I give pleasure... Get some ... too. How about you, you getting any pleasure?"

I felt sorry for myself, my own situation, "no-six-ty-three-fif-teen-for-ty-does-not-get-pleas-ure".

Another voice, I guessed Estri's, "That will change, if you obey and follow your training." The pleasurable sensations in my nipples and my cunt switched on. I was about to rub myself to bring more stimulation, but all stopped before I had. In my clit, I received a sharp jolt, just enough to cancel my pleasure.

"You can be turned on or turned off, if I will it, 63-15-40. I have been informed you have not given them reason to cause you real pain. I strongly advise such performance and operation continue." I felt, in the area of both kidneys, a very brief, intense pain. A yelp escaped my lips.

[Stephaniebot]

Well..................thats quite something!
Thanks for posting

[kman1]

Good lord, what an excellent story. Looking forward to any further installments, both to the story and to our lucky transformation. Lucky!

[Doctor Robo]

The story seemed to end abruptly. Is this a truncated version, or does it end that way everywhere else too?