"Androids . . . the newest in evolution for us all."
"Really," I said, half interested. It was fascinating. I was half wanting to try it myself. "Have you ever accomplished a fully operational sentient?"
"Well, now that's the catch . . . a computer derived sentient is impossible, we cannot create life, but we can alter life that is already there. We have experimented with test tubes, but it doesn't seem to work, it seems that resistance makes all the difference. What we need is a volunteer."
I looked up sharply, thinking I hadn't heard him right. "A guinea pig?"
"No, no, no, we know the process will work, we just need someone to try it."
"Well . . I might would give it a go, depending on what you'd do to me."
He looked startled. He pointed. "You?"
I shrugged. "Sure, it would be interesting."
"You couldn't write about it."
"So what, I mean interesting as a personal experience."
"Well, since you're our only volunteer, I think I'd say, 'Welcome'."
"Wait a minute! What exactly would you be doing to me?"
"We'd 'exactly' put you into an android body."
"You mean, remove my brain and . . . "
"No, just your consciousness. We can do that, move souls, if you will, about. That's the part we can't create. We can have babies, test tube and otherwise, but they have to be normal people, the genetically altered ones don't work."
"How does it work?"
"We'll show you, and since I'm pretty sure you'll be our volunteer--"
"Guinea pig," I corrected.
"--er, yeah, why don't we show you the rest of the facility and let you pick out your body. There are several models, all programmable with a personality and--"
"Whoa! Personality, you mean I'd be somebody else, not me?"
"If you want, that's up to you. We're thinking that after the switch you'd probably at least try it though. The switch itself has nothing to do with personality. In fact, we'd need you intact to make sure everything went accordingly, but afterwards, there is another process, which can alter memories and the rest. You'd always be you, just subdued under new programming."
"But I can choose not to do that, right?"
"Yes, but for obvious reasons, we're thinking you'll want it."
"Come this way and I'll show you."
They were beautiful, life-like: a blonde, a brunette, a red head, and even an elderly model, which I passed on right away. All in peak athletic shape, but all very feminine. The blonde had overly ripe breasts, heavy and full, but with pink nipples turned slightly up. She was much fuller in her hips, very hippy and I could see her move like a woman in full power in my mind's eyes. A regular sex machine with the right personality, and even with the wrong one, she would always have men coming on to her.
The brunette was very petite, tiny and feminine. She would be shy, but intelligent my judgement seemed to tell me, though she was not indeed alive. But her hair was black and as shiny as a starry night, and with cheekbones so high, yet angled softly to her delicately small mouth, I could see she was a seductive kitten in her own right.
The redhead was beautiful as well, but in a different way. A strangely erotic way, a special blend of pink complexion and green eyes. Straight hair that had sharp bangs, led all attention directly to her eyes, her most prominent feature. Her lips were fuller but not by much. They could pucker, I would bet, and pout better than anyone's.
"That's great, now where are the male models?"
"Well, that's what I mean. No men. Something to do with the imperfection of robotic chromosomes. The X's were the first perfected, because they were the basic building block for both genders, but Y's have yet to come around."
"You mean as an android I have to be a woman?"
He nodded, pursed lips, regretfully, but with hope that I wouldn't back out. "If nothing else, you'll be stunning."
"Yeah," I breathed, "gorgeous."
The idea intrigued me so much, that I just couldn't refuse. "I can't decide between the blonde and the brunette. I'm sure I'm not ready for the redhead yet. I'm not even ready to date the redhead, she's too much."
"Okay, well just pick one."
"The brunette," I said quickly, "because I don't think I could handle all the sexual pressure of the blonde."
"The brunette it is. Now, we'll fit you up for the switch."
"Already?" I panicked.
"We can do it anytime. This way you don't fret about it."
"Okay, I guess you're right. Man, what have I gotten myself in to?"
I was laid down naked on a large circular disc. On the other side, over a small partition laid the android female, brunette as I'd requested. I stared at her near girlish features for awhile and wondered how it would feel to have those features, to be so wonderfully beautiful . . . to be female. All that soft, smooth skin, a little extra fat, a little smaller and weaker, a little more verbal, semantical. Her breasts were pressed against her chest by gravity, but were pert and tight even so; her ribs showed through, leading down to a flat abdomen, which moved on to wider hips. Small, cute, veinless feet, like a child, blue eyes too probably.
I felt my erection hard and aching with nerve and excitement, anticipation and anxiousness, and closed my eyes to remember it one last time. I wondered what a female erection would feel like, how would they know when they were aroused? Stupid questions.
Then a large rectangular sponge moved over me, shining blue with pricks of light glowing increasingly. Almost immediately I felt myself slipping up towards it. I thought they were raising the platform under me, but all of a sudden I felt free. Free from all physical form, and I was looking down at me! Me laying there with closed eyes, the erection fading away quickly I noticed. When I was far enough in the air, feeling nothing but an amazing sense of peace, the disc began to move. I saw a line, running from my body to me, my umbilical cord, my life line, my link with my body. The disc circled around until the female android was below me, but I knew if they let me go I'd go right back to my body, that's where I was drawn.
Then my side of the disc lit up, and her's in a quick, flashing succession. So quickly that my umbilical cord jumped, and pulled me a little. They released me and I floated quickly downward. I had no choice now, but to go to the body I was linked to. I could've backed out all the way up until the switch, but my return was sped up as I saw the android open her eyes . . .
. . . and all of a sudden I was seeing the sponge thing over me. I was her . . . I didn't dare risk moving. I was afraid to.
"Bring her a robe. You can sit up now," he told me.
I did, feeling . . . different, unnatural. For one thing, even though technically I was lighter, my upper body felt heavier. I felt them . . . my breasts, so soft and malleable, slip downward as I sat. They pulled on me, I felt their weight, arched my back every so slightly to balance, to adjust to them. I slid my smooth female thighs over the cool surface. They jiggled slightly, and I noticed with a shock, that I was naked, and also very female. No penis down there, no hardness, just an interesting new organ between my legs. I didn't notice it so much, but I knew it was there. It wasn't doing anything at the moment, and then all of a sudden I felt wet inside. I can't describe it other than a slippery feeling when I moved my thighs. I didn't want to walk for fear that I feel something, pleasure, or worse . . . pain or cramps or something.
A robe was placed on me, and I was transferred quickly to a wheelchair. I didn't know why, but I assumed there was a reason. They wheeled me to my room, where all my outfits had been changed over, all casual, no sexy wear until I ordered what I liked. They slid me into bed and I slept deeply, settling in without knowing myself.
I woke up, groaned, turned over on my stomach to wallow in the warmth of the covers for awhile; and immediately remembered. I rolled onto my breasts. It didn't feel right. My eyes snapped awake, my brain (mechanical now) startled to consciousness. I laid still for a long time, not quite prepared to explore the difference, but my back was hurting like this, the breasts, as soft and pliable as they were, like two sensitive pillows under my chest was not only raising my torso enough to strain my lower back, but also being pinched uncomfortably themselves. I swallowed, gulped nervously, then rolled over and laid on my back.
My small hand with equally tiny wrist reached up. It felt a slight bit lighter, a slight bit weaker, but it was almost unnoticeable. The hand itself was the most different, shorter fingers, longer nails, moving in a helplessly feminine fashion. The structure of the body itself caused some of this. The tips of my fingers reached up to a mound on my chest. I felt the pillow- like softness and yet warm to the touch skin of my breast, began to move my finger up it, pushing it gently--it moved like fat, or jiggled sort of, but was firm I could tell nevertheless. I groped myself softly, lightly, but when my finger touched so gently on the tip of nipple, an interesting thrill of pleasure shot through me. It was like touching an erect penis in a certain way; and my breasts (from anxiousness and downright fear as well as excitement and the erotic feeling of switching) were certainly at attention. The nipple was erect, very hard and moveable like a pellet but very sensitive. So sensitive that I giggled lightly, like a baby for the first time; it tickled, then as I explored, pressed a little harder, squeezed a bit, the tickle went away and the pleasure increased.
Now both my hands went on them and moved them around, enjoying their range of motion, touching on their tips and pressing and rubbing, sending strangely arousing tickles of pleasure through me. It was so local, and felt so good, but I felt myself wettening down below, and with another gulp of nervous anticipation (my nipples straining with swelling stiffness), I lowered a hand down to my belly, even while the other continued to circle and rouse its prize. They were big enough that I could even lick and suck on them with my own mouth. One hand brought the nipple up and I did so, feeling even more arousal, but this was only the beginning.
The lips twitched, spasmed just lightly as my fingers ran across them. I pushed gently between them, greeted by warm and slippery juice, my juice, me . . . and instantly my body contracted. I let out a startled sigh and then a low moan that meant my fingers were finding their own way about. Incredible, just moving about down there, and as if that would get boring, I went for the hole, slipped a finger into it and practically cried with euphoria, arched my back, felt the need to suck hard on my nipple. I switched hands, went to the other nipple, explored my wetness until I felt some change, a growing (so slight I almost didn't feel it) at the top corner of me. I rubbed it once, pressed it around quickly in a circle and realized my clitoris was the best thing that had ever happened to me.
I began to pat down and caress my whole body, over my face, through my pubic hair, through my head hair, over my hips and thighs, wanting desperately to nibble on my own toes, felt around my anus, so different and yet so familiar in sensation. God, it was different and wonderful.
My body stiffened into a flat arching board, as a--what to call it--an electric, no, a wave crashed into me, from the inside. It sparked between my legs, but soon every cell, every hair was at attention. It jolted up my spine, up my neck, jiggled my breasts, and I couldn't help but feel tears of joy running down my cheeks, and even they had their own special pleasure, their own sensation that felt good. I twitched and convulsed, still pressing on myself, and all of a sudden . . . a second wave hit, and another, a rapid succession of them until I was mindless, no longer thinking at all, but completely swept away, under pleasure's ocean and dreaming of nothing, just feeling everything.
A broken sweat, and what felt like hours of laying there still warm, hot, and crashing inside (though slower and gentler with each crest), I felt my eyelids so heavy, my cheeks so flushed, my body so alive and tired, that I nearly couldn't get up.
Now I was sure . . . I wanted the whole experience. At least try it. I'd still be me, like he said, but under another, a more feminine, a real woman's personality. I would think like her, move like her, know everything she felt, but still be me inside. I couldn't resist, and decided to dress right away and rush to the doctor in charge of it. I had to know about myself for sure.
I stood and my body jiggled amazingly. I wasn't used to the difference in just movement. The sagging of breasts, the extra wiggle of thigh and buttocks, having long hair caressing my shoulders, long nails that I'd have to be careful with. It was all so strange. I moved so differently. My legs weren't separated anymore by that organ, but could close more completely, and tended to stay together more. I was so smooth, under my arms, my legs were cooler, and I wasn't used to it. My wrists were much weaker and arms as well and they tended to move in utmost feminine fashion. I was definitely female all the way through. It was incredible.
I let the shower warm up while I stood and admired my body in the mirror, getting turned on all over again. But the arousal was a man's arousal at a beautiful, shapely, pretty young thing. It was the wrong kind of arousal. I wouldn't even make a good lesbian because there would always be a part of me that wanted that overall erection and the sense of power, of dominating her with pleasure. Instead, I'd be the one being dominated under a man's touch, submitting to euphoria just as I had under my own touch. Now, I was a thing to be admired, the prey instead of the predator, waiting for someone to make their move on me. I wondered that women had any power at all besides sexual, which I knew because they used them in relationships, for marriage and the like. They just had a different, more subtle power, a way of subduing men with their looks. Now, that was me.
The water was hot and reenergized every pore of me. When I washed my hair, I felt my breasts softened by the steam rise up and down. They would take the most getting used to. Soap and shampoo did much for me, and I dried off and brushed my long black hair and waited for it to dry, not sure what I should do with it. Pony tail seemed the easiest, and I was reasonably sure I could manage a petite, pretty look with bangs and shorts and the rest.
I pulled the panties up my legs. There was practically nothing to them, not like the cotton jocks and so forth that men wore. I stepped into some shorts and found a baggy sweater and some tennis shoes and headed . . . where? I didn't know, but I wore no makeup or anything, I wasn't ready for that yet.
I couldn't wait however to try some lingerie on and went immediately to get some. I figured I'd be kind of embarrassed, but maybe not. No one else knew this wasn't my body, so I'd just wing it. Shopping might be a lot of fun.
I took plenty of turns at hangers, trying to imagine the silky nothings on me, and finally settled on a couple. I practically raced home to try them home.
A black G-string slipped on, followed by a garter belt which clamped down on two pairs of hose. A tight number with a wispy cape came next, and I posed in the front of the mirror. I'd been watching myself dress and undress, until nearly bored with my own body. It was still a very human (falsely so) body, and I was still me, but the posing was interesting for a while. It was like having the must private, sexiest model ever to try on and do whatever you asked her to, except of course it all had to be done before a mirror.
I even spread myself out on a bed, but finally decided enough was a enough and changed into more appropriate clothes for a doctor.
I crossed my legs, feeling and trying to be as girlish as possible.
"Just put your hands on the rests," the doctor ordered and towered over me. I uncrossed my legs nervously (knees practically knocking together) and waited patiently. "It really is a painless procedure. I'll talk you through it."
He strapped two electrodes to a finger on either hand. "This is ionic electricity. You'll feel a sudden jolt, but there will be no pain." He depressed the switch. My body sat upright, my neck straightened and went rigid. My legs and feet snapped together, everything in me stiffened. He had closed down the human part of me and was now working on the machine. I was paralyzed, completely at his mercy, forced to trust him.
"You'll be stuck like this for awhile. I'll down load the information in a bit; first, I want to make some changes for my own benefit. You see . . . this body was designed by me for my own pleasure, it needed only a human soul to power it, and now I have you."
I wanted to run, scream, kill this guy, but I was paralyzed as long as the electricity went through me. He was right I was stuck while he did whatever he wanted to me.
He made a movement and my scalp popped up.
"There are several screws here," he continued, enjoying telling me, knowing I'd have no memory of it. "This one," he said and turned it, "is your aggressiveness. I'll adjust it just so that you are not aggressive at all, except in conjunction with this one." He turned and I felt all the fight go out of me. Just like that, I no longer had any violent thoughts, they just drained out of me helplessly. "This one is your sexual appetite, so to speak, and in conjunction with the first one you'll be aggressive in bed but no place else, and only when I want it."
Instantly, I felt a sudden rush of extreme sexual pleasure. I wettened so much I was practically dripping, my breasts went rigid (even more so) the nipples popped straight and hard in a sheer second. A sudden rush of supreme pleasure hit my entire body, making me moan, "Ohhh . . . "
"Oops," he laughed, "a little too far. I find, you see, if I give you that moment of pleasure, you'll always try to recapture it. And even better, you won't know why, because you'll have the memory of the pleasure in this personality, but in the one I'm about to give you, it will only be a vague memory, a subconscious compulsion to attain that pleasure again. You'll be so horny and sexual, you'll want it from me anytime I do. You'll be grateful for any attention I choose to give you. You'll fit in my harem quite nicely.
"Anyway this one," he turned, "is classic obedience."
I became incredibly passive, completely submissive to his every command. He turned off the electricity and said, "Sit still," and I did, hating him, but without passion. Suddenly masterfully attracted to him, in heat, in lust for anything he was willing to give me, even though I knew he'd done it to me.
"And finally your intelligence will be ruled by your new personality."
He rolled a giant face-looking thing towards me; it had two holes that I was obviously supposed to look in. "You'll be like a little girl, that's what I want," he told me. "Petulant at times, in strict need of a firm hand, a little physical discipline never hurt anyone, and you'll come to enjoy the attention. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you did something wrong on purpose just to get a good spanking. You'll like it, and so will I."
He brought the machine close to my face, while I sat still, no longer paralyzed but unable to leave, though I desperately wanted to.
"Just look into the eyepieces and it'll all be over soon enough."
I managed to resist.
He held my chin firmly in his grasp, raised it like a commanding father (and me still reeling with desire for the beast, and trying my best to resist), and directed my eyes into them. A strange pulsating blue light began, and in only a moment, I was stuck, unable to look any place but into the lens. The mesmerism was complete, and he said, " . . . and now to download my dream girl. You'll feel yourself suppressed for a bit, but eventually you'll blend, merge completely under and into the new personality. Soon, you won't remember anything but your new memories."
He flipped a switch, I heard the powering up, and the information started spurting into my corneas, filling up my head with what seemed like garbage. But the more garbage entered my head, the less it seemed like garbage, and slowly, so slowly I almost didn't notice it, I began to recede, to take a back seat to the garbage which was now something more. It was like a fetus growing in my mind, developing its own personality, and almost at once, I could tell it was a giggly, giddy, undersexed kitten, who needed only attention and love. She'd do anything to get it.
She had the needs of a child, and the petulance of a teenager, and now I was her. Further and further back, so slowly and steadily it killed me with its movement, I was pushed back by her. Her body began to move differently, the way it changed alarmed me because I could feel everything. It became her body and I was along for the ride, a strict and real barrier erected between us. But, even as I was feeling everything she was, knowing her thoughts and actions exactly at the moment she did, I knew that the barrier would not last, and unless I found a way out of it, I would become her completely, heart, body, mind and soul.
Now, I was looking purposefully deeper into the face-mesmer, letting everything in with open mind. And it rushed in because her personality wanted more of itself. Soon, it was complete, and she had complete control. I could maneuver out here and there, but only when there was a gap in her mind, a space that I could get through. The gaps that I was filling I could maintain, but she still had most of the control, and I would soon, with each gap newly acquired, regain control, but as her, because to get into the gap, I had to release part of myself into it. I was dividing inside me and losing myself in her, and soon the barrier wouldn't exist, we would be one.
"Go ahead, stand up," he laughed, noticing the very real change that had come over me.
I felt her stand up and pat her body down. I felt everything: she caressed her entire body, stuck a finger into her mouth with a naughty, devious little grin on her pouty lips, and walked to him; her--my arms so warm and full of him, that he could only respond, and yet even as I was having him, leading him to my lips, controlling him, I was letting him have me, letting him control me. Letting him dominate me.
He moved into me quickly and kissed me exactly as I wanted. I couldn't resist anymore. He swatted my rear harshly, and I yelped, laughed, and felt a warm tingling starting in my head, between my legs. He knew how I wanted everything, because he had created me. I was his little girl, his daughter, and his best lover.
He took me to bed.
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by Scott J. Kleper