The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Offer, Part 3

Chapter 10: Déjà Vu

Amy Travis nearly tripped over her own feet as she hurried down the great stone steps outside the library. She couldn’t believe how distracted she’d been recently. The two hours she’d just spent hitting the books, for example: perfectly useless. She was just too preoccupied.

It wasn’t even like she was one to make a big deal out of Halloween. Last year, she hadn’t even bothered to get a costume. But there was a lot of pressure on her this time around. Her roommate, Erica, had insisted that they throw a big party in their dorm room, and Amy had agreed on the condition that she’d get to pick costumes for them to wear. In typical fashion, Erica had told Amy she’d better make those costumes good and sexy.

Well, Amy wasn’t the kind to draw attention to herself, like Erica was. But she wasn’t the kind to back down from a challenge, either. And so she’d set out to find the most outrageously daring costumes she could think of. It took days of searching on the web, but eventually she’d found exactly what she’d been looking for.

The look on Erica’s face was going to be priceless.

The only problem was, Halloween was five days away and the damn costumes hadn’t arrived yet. She’d been checking the order status page on the web site every day—three or four times a day, most days—and gotten almost no information. Just a pair of confirmation numbers: N995 and N996. Amy usually had a terrible memory for little details like that, but these had stuck, almost like a song that she couldn’t get out of her head.

As she came within sight of her dorm, Amy started walking faster. She was anxious to see if there was any news on the web site. It had become something of an obsession. This stunt had better be worth it, she thought. What she wouldn’t give to have all this stress and worry erased from her mind.

Soon, Amy was fumbling with her keys outside the door to her suite. Inside, she dropped her bag on the sofa and reached back to pull her blonde hair out of its ponytail. The place was quiet, but Erica was definitely home. Amy could smell the cigarette smoke.

Then she realized the smoke wasn’t coming from Erica’s bedroom, but her own.

Nudging her shoes off, Amy carefully tiptoed to her bedroom door and peeked in. There, seated at Amy’s desk in front of her computer, was Erica. Amy opened the door wider, but somehow Erica didn’t notice her presence. The beautiful brunette was just staring at the computer screen, jaw slack and eyes unfocused. Dreamily, Erica brought her cigarette to her lips and took a long, slow drag. Lowering her arm again, she pursed her lips and slowly exhaled, lifting her chin just enough to blow the smoke over the top of the monitor.

She hadn’t taken her eyes off the screen for an instant.

Amy stepped into the room to get a look at what Erica was staring at, but she already knew the answer. Yes—just as she’d thought, it was the web site. But how had Erica even found out about it? The question had barely formed in Amy’s mind when she noticed Erica was viewing the order status page. Curious, Amy leaned in to read what it had to say.

Forever Silver Brought to you by Precision Passion Unlimited Surrender to the Ultimate Personal Transformation!

Order Status Personal Transformation Kit N995: En route Personal Transformation Kit N996: En route

Your order should be arriving shortly. Be sure to visit us often for product updates and enhancements!

It was the same information she’d seen each of the past three days, but Amy still found it oddly reassuring. She found herself reading the words several times, as though she could learn something new by going over them. The entire screen was fun to look at, really—the gentle pulsation of its dark blue background, the intermittent sparkling of the chrome pipes that bordered each of its frames . . . .

All of Amy’s interest in snapping Erica out of her reverie had inexplicably faded away. In its place was the familiar sense of relief she always felt whenever she visited the web site. Her eyes tried to follow the lights that moved along the edges of the screen for a while—but, like so many times before, she soon found it was easier just to fix her eyes on the center of the screen, and stare.

All Amy wanted to do now was relax and stare at the screen. Just relax, and continue to stare. Yes, that was it. Relax. Stare.

It was so easy.

* * *

“Amy, wake up.”

“Huh?” Amy blinked. Erica was standing in front of her now, gently nudging her. “Oh, sorry. Guess I spaced out a little there.”

“Yeah . . . don’t worry about it. Trust me, I understand.”

“How long was I—?”

“Only about fifteen minutes or so, I’m guessing. I know I was, um, using the computer for about twenty myself, and I just, you know, finished.”

“Oh.” Amy moved to the bed and sat down. “So, I guess my little surprise is out of the bag.”

“I’m sorry, Amy. I couldn’t help myself—all this cloak-and-dagger secrecy, and only five days to go until the party. I had to find out what you were up to. So I logged on to your computer and started fishing through your bookmarks.” Erica leaned back against Amy’s desk, shoulders drooping. She looked genuinely contrite. “I feel like such a jerk.”

“It’s OK. Really, I’m not mad at all. Actually, I’m probably relieved more than anything. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to talk to you about this.”

“Yeah, we should definitely talk. That web site is pretty weird. Where did you come up with a crazy idea like robots for our Halloween costumes?”

“I don’t know . . . you said you wanted sexy, and all the standard costume ideas are so played out. This just seemed . . . unique. You don’t like it?”

“No, that’s not it. I mean, sure, I never would have thought of something like this—no offense, but I’m not a sci-fi geek like you are. But the more I think about it, the more I like it. It is kind of cool . . . so yes, I could get into it. Especially now that I’ve had a chance to look at the site.”

Amy didn’t find that surprising at all. Something about the site was really compelling, almost addictive. Getting obsessed about it herself was one thing—compulsive behavior was her stock-in-trade. But Erica? No, the site was definitely exerting a gentle but relentless influence on them. Both of them knew it, but neither one seemed to want to admit it out loud—at least, not until the silence became too much.

“OK,” Erica blurted out. “Since you’re not saying anything, I’m going to. That site—it’s some kind of hypnosis thing, isn’t it?”

“Honestly, Erica, I don’t know.”

“Well, then how come I ended up just staring at it for almost half an hour just now? I mean, I couldn’t take my eyes off it. And the weirdest part is, I’m pretty sure I’d do it again. I loved it.”

“You did?”

“Yeah . . . a lot. Man, I can’t believe I’m admitting this, but the whole thing was . . . you know, pleasurable. Know what I’m saying?”

“Yes,” Amy said, blushing. “Yes, I do.”

“Makes me wonder what it’s going to be like with the costume on.”

“Wow—you too?” Amy asked excitedly. “I’ve been thinking the same thing, for days. That once I got the costumes, I should—”

Amy stopped herself. “What am I saying . . . I sound ridiculous.”

“No you don’t. Keep going.”

“Well, I was thinking that when we get our costumes, we should put them on and come back to the web site . . . you know, to see how it feels.”

“Definitely. I can’t wait.”

* * *

Amy was ten minutes into French class the next afternoon when her cell phone buzzed. Discreetly, she checked the phone. It was a text message, from Erica.


Shit, Amy thought. There was no way she could just skip out in the middle of class. She was stuck there for the rest of the hour.

It was all Amy could do to pay attention in class. She kept imagining that everyone in the room knew what she was thinking about. For a moment she even imagined that she was wearing the costume right there in class, taking in their stunned and puzzled reactions. A Halloween party was one thing, but what if everyone knew how much she was looking forward to wearing it, whenever and wherever she wanted? Would she ever have the courage to wear something like that out in public?

She imagined wearing it hidden under her regular clothes, and smiled to herself at the thought of some cute guy catching a glimpse of silver at her neck, or just above the ankles, and feeling compelled to find out more about her.

When class finally ended, Amy bolted from her seat. The first one out the door, she practically sprinted back to her room. She allowed a part of herself to hope that Erica had waited for her, but she knew there was no way. Not a chance.

And so, when she unlocked her door this time, she wasn’t the least bit surprised to see the package sitting open on the floor next to the sofa. “Erica?” she called out, letting her bag drop onto a chair and taking off her jacket. There was no answer, but of course Erica must be home. The light in Amy’s room made it pretty clear where she’d gone.

Amy was curious to know exactly what Erica was up to, but not as curious as she was about the open box. She walked over and squatted down to take a look inside. A cardboard insert neatly divided the box in two. One half was empty—no surprise there—but the costume on the other side was untouched, still neatly packed in its cellophane bag. Just looking at it made Amy’s heart begin to beat faster.

She lifted the bag—it was heavier than she’d expected, since it held not just the spandex catsuit but a pair of boots as well—and carefully tore it open. Leaving the boots aside for now, she held the suit up by its shoulders to get a better look at it.

The material was unbelievably reflective—shinier than anything she’d ever seen before. And soft, too. She rubbed it gently with her thumbs, and once or twice it almost slipped from her fingers like quicksilver. Strangest of all, it didn’t appear to have a zipper, or any seams at all. How was she going to get into it? Still holding the suit by one shoulder, she ran her other hand down to hold up one of the footed legs—and jumped as a mild electric current coursed through her. It definitely wasn’t static electricity—it didn’t even hurt, really. It was actually quite pleasant.

Amy felt the blood rush to her cheeks as she imagined the tingling fabric hugging every inch of her body. It was supposed to be just a Halloween costume—but Amy had known for a while that it was much more than that. She felt like she was holding the key to some previously hidden door—and she couldn’t tell if it was leading somewhere far away or somewhere deep inside herself. Maybe both.

She had to unlock that door.

Gently putting the suit down, Amy started to unbutton her blouse. She had just unclasped her bra when she noticed something else in her half of the box. It was a black plastic box, perhaps a foot long, with a sticker on its lid reading: PLEASE DO NOT OPEN UNTIL INSTRUCTED. Instructed? How?

As though in answer to her question, she heard Erica’s muffled voice coming from her bedroom. She was obviously in there looking at Amy’s computer again. Amy couldn’t make out anything she was saying, but her voice sounded . . . different.

But Amy was too excited to dwell on questions right now—not to mention, a bit upset that Erica had gone on without her. This whole thing had been her idea, after all. It was about time she got to enjoy it.

Tossing her bra aside—it suddenly occurred to her that she’d never taken her clothes off in the common room before—Amy kicked off her shoes and quickly removed her jeans. She hesitated for a moment, not sure if she should leave her panties on. Then she thought about that fabric again—the way it had moved like liquid in her hands, the soothing buzz along her skin—and the decision was made.

Amy felt a rush of excitement as she kicked her panties away. She couldn’t believe she was standing naked in the middle of the room, about to put on a full-body silver spandex suit—a robot suit, no less, apparently designed to excite her sexually. She was about to get off on dressing up like a robot, and she knew it.

“Who am I kidding,” she mumbled aloud as she felt herself moisten. “I’m already getting off on it.”

This was completely unlike her, she thought as she put one foot into the suit. And yet, the whole scenario felt eerily familiar somehow . . . like it had already happened, in a dream or something. Just then—the way the light reflected along her calf as she pulled the fabric above her knee—she was sure she’d seen that before. And there again, the way she had to hop once to keep her balance as she got the other foot in. It was uncanny.

Rocking her ample hips, Amy pulled the suit up to her waist, marveling at how its neck stretched to accommodate her. She bent over to pull the fabric smooth around her thighs—and as the dangling arms of the suit brushed against her legs, a gentle jolt of electricity coursed through her entire lower body. Incredible.

Amy wasted no time in getting her arms into the suit. It took a while to get the built-in gloves to fit properly over each finger, and she had to push her breasts up a bit to get comfortable, but soon she was done. She looked down at her belly, soft but flat, and gave it a gentle pat. The suit made her look fantastic. And somehow, it seemed to be getting tighter.

The electric hum of the fabric was more noticeable now, too. Warm and comforting, it could also be surprisingly strong at times. As she moved, the current flowed up and down her body, concentrating itself mostly in an inverted triangle connecting her vagina to each of her nipples. Every second or two, the energy would build up and release in a gentle pulse that jolted each point of that triangle into tiny expanding circles of pleasure. Somehow, Amy could see it all happening in her mind—these simple geometric forms overlaid over the shape of her body, reducing its apparent complexity to elegant, infinitely repeating patterns of pure function and purpose.

She’d never felt so aware of her body’s erogenous zones—how efficiently they could be stimulated, and how deterministically they responded to . . . instruction. She was quite pleased.

Now, all she wanted to do was see herself in a mirror—and the best place to do that was in her bedroom. That was good, since she also wanted to check on Erica. She took one last look at the little black box—the one she wasn’t supposed to open yet—and then turned toward the bedroom door. As she drew closer, she heard Erica’s voice again.

“Yes,” Erica was saying. Her voice was flat, emotionless. “I understand.”

Opening the door, Amy saw Erica standing in the middle of the room, wearing a silver suit just like hers—except that she was also wearing the sparkling chrome knee-high boots. The fluorescent light from overhead seemed to dance along every curve of Erica’s body—and though she wasn’t as voluptuous as Amy, the taller girl really did have one hell of an amazing body.

Amy couldn’t help but notice that Erica was holding a small plastic box in her hands, and was about to open it. “Understand what?” she asked.

Erica seemed to freeze suddenly. She looked up from the box, her head moving as though mounted on a hinge. “Amy,” she said matter-of-factly, her face devoid of expression. “Good. You are wearing your suit.”

“Yeah, I am. Isn’t it amazing?”

Erica’s head cocked oddly to one side as she considered the question. “Yes, it is. More than you know, yet. I’m sorry, Amy, but we will have to finish this con.versation later. I must continue what I was doing. Besides, I’m sure you must be anxious to use the compu.ter.”

“Right. OK.” Erica sure was acting strangely. And her voice—so dull, and monotonic. Was this what was about to happen to her? Inexplicably, Amy found the idea exciting.

Just then, Amy felt a staccato buzzing at the back of her neck. Instinctively, she turned toward the computer screen. It was just finishing a refresh.

Welcome back, Amy!

Now that you’re wearing your new Precision Passion catsuit for the first time, you’ve surely noticed the pleasurable sensations which the suit is designed to give you. As you take your first steps toward the ultimate personal transformation, we recommend that you relax and let your inhibitions slip away.

Your interactive demonstration has already begun automatically. We promise that if you just let the suit do its job, you’ll be treated to the experience of a lifetime!

Amy had barely finished reading the words when her neck buzzed again—and this time, the electric current spread instantly to her entire body. “What the—? Erica, what’s happening to me?”

But Erica did not respond. She had opened her black box, and removed a pair of chrome disks, shaped like flat cones. Amy was sure she’d seen them before, somehow.

As casually as one might put on jewelry, Erica fit the disks over her ears. A red light at the center of each cone flashed briefly before remaining steady. Erica’s arms fell to her sides, and she stood at attention. “I am Unit N996,” she said calmly, staring straight ahead. There was just a hint of a peaceful smile on her face. “I am ready for programming.”

Amy was utterly fascinated by what she was seeing, but she didn’t get to watch Erica any longer. The buzzing at the back of her neck started again, and her muscles instantly went rigid—arms locked with a slight bend at each elbow, and fingers perfectly straight. She felt her head cock, just as Erica’s had done. And then, a voice from out of nowhere filled her mind.






Amy’s head cocked again, hard to the other side. She felt strange new thoughts slowly pushing their way into her brain. “I . . . I . . .”

Her eyes widened as something snapped neatly into place inside her mind. Something that felt perfectly right. “I am pro.grammed for pleasure,” she heard herself say.

Programmed. Yes, she was being programmed. Like a robot. Of course.

The initial shock was gone now. Everything made sense. She found that she was quite comfortable with what was happening to her. After all, she still couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d experienced this once before.

Yes, she decided, everything was proceeding normally. Soon, she would be just like Erica—like Unit N996. All she needed to do was relax, and open her mind. The rest would take care of itself.

When the voice spoke again, she obeyed without the slightest hesitation.

ACTIVATE VOCAL. “Loa.ding pro.gram: Trans.form one.”

ACTIVATE VOCAL. “Pro.gram loa.ding com.plete.”

ACTIVATE VOCAL. “Ini.ti.a.ting pro.gram.”

Amy’s right arm jerked suddenly, bending upward at the elbow, then inward to bring her hand neatly to her sex. Her wrist turned. Her fingers bent slightly. Her left leg moved outward to allow access. Her head never moved, her eyes still fixed on a random spot on the wall.

INITIATE TRANSFORM INTERFACE. The heel of Amy’s hand came to rest against her spandex-covered mound. Her mouth fell open—and the silver fabric at her vagina parted, too.



And then, Amy’s fingers rotated downward, and inserted themselves. The connection was made, the circuit closed. Electricity began to flow freely throughout her . . . internal systems. Her eyes grew as wide as saucers, and rolled back slightly. Her eyelids fluttered. The corners of her mouth flickered, almost imperceptibly.

There was no other outward indication of the intense pleasure building throughout her body. And, other than the rhythmic thrusts of her right hand, no movement whatsoever. Each time, her fingers seemed to reach deeper inside her—and each time, they sent a stronger pulse of electric current into her. Amy’s body greedily absorbed the current, and it began to ripple outward from the points on the triangle to every other part of her. But most of the energy remained at the bottom of the triangle—deep inside her vagina, at the very center of her—and there it continued to build, until she began to wonder how much longer she could contain it.

CIRCUITS APPROACHING CRITICAL LEVELS. PREPARE FOR RELEASE. CODE TRANSFORM ONE A. By now the commands Amy was receiving made perfect sense to her. As a robot, she needed to protect her circuits from overload. It was time to release them. She was designed for this eventuality.


Amy’s knees buckled as the orgasm erupted from deep within her. Her silver body began to spasm uncontrollably. The only part of her that seemed to be functioning properly was her right hand, which relentlessly continued to work her sex, harder and harder. Amy’s shaking became more and more severe, until she felt like she might fly apart. Then, her hand suddenly stopped. Within seconds, her body had come to rest, frozen in place once again. Her unmoving hand was still half-buried in her vagina.


Amy’s head tilted sharply to the side yet again. ACTIVATE VOCAL. “”

She couldn’t move, but for a moment she was aware of her surroundings. At the edge of her vision, she could see Erica standing perfectly at attention, eyes closed. The red lights on her programming disks were still bright and steady.

BEGIN SHUTDOWN SEQUENCE. ACTIVATE VOCAL. “,” Amy droned. Her hand pulled itself from her sex, her arm held rigid before her like that of a department store mannequin. For a final time, she felt her head cock.


SEQUENCING 10 . . . 9 . . . 8 . . . 7 . . . 6 . . . 5 . . . .


“This.unit.shut.ting.down.” Amy’s eyes lost focus as she bent slowly forward at the waist. She came to rest with a slight bounce—knees locked, arms akimbo, head tilted awkwardly to one side, hair covering her eyes, mouth open.

4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . .

The world went black. She felt her mind shutting itself off. She’d never been so completely, utterly satisfied in her entire life.




* * *

The first thing Amy saw was the bottom shelf of her bookcase, its contents blurry and dim. From how dark the room was, she could tell that a long time had passed.

It took a few seconds for her vision come into focus, by which time she felt her back loosen to the point that she could lift her upper body to something resembling upright. At first, the rest of her simply wouldn’t move—feet planted slightly apart, arms bent in front of her with fingers straight, head tilted oddly to the side, mouth hanging open—but then she felt control of her body return to her at last.

She turned to see Erica seated at the computer. The brunette was still wearing her suit and boots, and those two chrome disks were still fitted over her ears. She seemed completely focused on what she was doing, typing feverishly. Erica had never been any good with computers—she’d certainly never shown an ability to type with more than two fingers before—but now, her hands were manipulating the keyboard like those of an expert.

Erica had at least three windows up on the screen—all containing nothing but white text against a green background. One of them was packed with information, scrolling by so fast that Amy couldn’t make any of it out. In another, a blinking cursor waited patiently at a command prompt. And the one in the front was rapidly being filled with whatever Erica was typing.

None of it made much sense to Amy. She didn’t really know much about computers, either—until today, she’d used hers just for web surfing and writing papers. But she was pretty sure her roommate was entering code.

“Erica?” she asked hesitantly.

Erica continued to type for a few seconds, as though finishing a thought, then stopped. She swiveled her chair neatly to face Amy. Her eyes had changed—their brown irises replaced with shining chrome—but they suddenly lit up, and her expressionless face broke into a familiar smile. “Hey, Amy. I see you’re awake. How do you feel?”

“A little stiff, and a little sore. But I feel incredible. It was like—well, you know what it was like. Still, I feel as though I’m a little behind. Those things on your ears—what are they for?”

Erica stood up—and as she did so, Amy noticed a power cord connected to the small of Erica’s back, extending like a tail. It was plugged into the surge protector along with Amy’s computer, monitor, and printer.

“These are my programming disks,” Erica explained. “They provide me with the data and instructions I require to execute my assigned tasks. Without them, I would be unable to function.”

Amy thought about that for a long moment.

“Erica . . . I’m pretty sure I know the answer to this, even though it barely makes any sense. But are you saying that you’re a robot? For real?”

“Yes, Amy. To be precise, I am a Stage Two N-designate android. My designation is Unit N996. But if you want, you may continue to address this unit as ‘Erica.’”

Questions were swirling around in Amy’s head, but on some level she knew that she’d understand everything much better pretty soon. Seeing Erica like this made clear the path she herself was on. And though she couldn’t quite explain why, she had no intention of deviating from that path. She was going to follow it to the end.

“Amy,” Erica continued, “you’ve already had a brief demo of your transformation suit, and seeing these changes in me should give you a sense of what you have an opportunity to become, if you want to. Now it’s time for you to make an important decision. Will you—”

“Don’t bother going into all the details,” Amy interrupted. “I only have one question, Erica. Are you happy?”

Erica smiled again, and put her hand on Amy’s arm. “You have no idea.”

“OK, then. I’ll do it.”

Erica gave her a warm hug. Amy could tell she was making a good decision—and on an unconscious level, she’d really made this decision days ago. Somehow, she’d known what was coming ever since she’d first laid eyes on that web site. She was about to become a robot . . . and it felt right. She’d never been so sure of herself.

Skipping back into the common room, Amy sat down on the sofa and quickly put on her boots. Then she grabbed the black box, and opened it as she walked back to the bedroom. Inside were a pair of programming disks and a power cord.

“So,” she asked, removing the disks from the box, “I just put these on and that’s it?”

“Yes . . . assuming you are certain that you want to go through with this. The choice is entirely yours.”

“You keep forgetting, Erica, this whole thing was my idea.”

Pulling her hair back, Amy fitted one of the disks over her left ear. It was surprisingly comfortable. She quickly repeated the process with her right ear. Immediately, the disks seemed to pull themselves tightly against her head. She heard a soft humming sound which quickly expanded to fill her consciousness. She gasped, putting a hand to the disk over her right ear.

Now she was certain, beyond all doubt, that she’d experienced this before—in a dream, about ten days ago. Erica had been there. And another girl, too. What was her name?

The humming suddenly rose in pitch, and Amy’s mouth fell open. The fingertips of her right hand were still pressed lightly against her disk. “It’s working,” she said breathlessly. “I . . . I’m being . . . re . . . programmed.”

Amy felt her head jerk a bit to one side as her arm lowered itself. Both hands were now held rigidly at her sides, a few inches out from her silver hips. Here eyes were still open, but they saw nothing. The electronic signals pouring into her head had overwhelmed all other sensation. Soon the signals began penetrating to her conscious mind, forming new thoughts that she quickly embraced as her own. One. Zero. Zero. One. Zero. One. One. Zero. One. Zero. One. One. Z . . . I am Unit N995. I am Unit N995.

Yes. She was Unit N995.

The girl’s mouth opened. She spoke. “I am Unit N995. I am ready for programming.”

The programming disks hummed again, and this time the back of her neck buzzed as though in response. She breathed deeply and exhaled with a sigh, a pleasant smile spreading upon her face. “This unit is receiving programming,” she reported.

“Good,” Erica said, turning neatly to sit back down at the computer. There was much work to be done.

Hours passed as Amy—Unit N995—continued to download her new programming. An absolutely incredible amount of information was being poured into her, and the girl’s receptive brain soaked it all up like a sponge. Data was being extracted from her as well, though she was less consciously aware of it until a stray thought popped up amidst the overwhelming rush of data.

Wendy. That was the other girl’s name. Wendy.

And then, it was over.

TRANSFORMATION STAGE TWO COMPLETE. ACTIVATE VOCAL. “This unit has received primary programming,” she announced flatly. “This unit is functioning properly.”

Unit N995 blinked. She could hear the faint sound of miniaturized servos in her visual sensors as her new metallic irises maximized their input resolution. She could feel thousands of tiny shocks throughout her body as her old neural system gave way to rapidly forming circuitry. She could see each line of code being fed to her android brain, telling her precisely what to do, exactly what to think.

It occurred to Unit N995 that her code was not unlike the code that Unit N996 was even now still entering into the computer system on the nearby desk. That system was not nearly powerful enough to suit their needs, but it was connected to other, similar machines over a fixed, low-bandwidth telecommunications line. Primitive though the technology was, it would soon enable Unit N996 to establish control of other systems on its network. Then they would have sufficient processing power to run the auxiliary software needed to support their new functions.

More important, though, Unit N996 was connecting their simple computer directly to the Precision Passion servers, installing the android systems’ custom protocols and opening secure communication ports. Like the changes currently taking place inside the girls’ bodies, it was only a matter of time before the modifications would be finalized. Once complete, the changes would greatly facilitate the androids’ communication with their command interface, which resided over a thousand miles away.

Somehow, Unit N995 sensed that the girl named Wendy was intimately connected to that command interface—providing the conduit through which she and Unit N996 would receive their programmed instructions. The technology was well beyond Unit N995’s understanding. But then, she was not required to understand it. She turned her attention elsewhere.

Unit N996 did not require assistance. Unit N995 had other functions to perform, functions to be executed in parallel with those of Unit N996. She turned, and exited the bedroom. Approaching the open delivery box, she lifted the cardboard that formed the bottom of the two empty compartments. Beneath were two more compartments, each containing a complete transformation kit.

For Unit N997 and Unit N998.

Unit N995 turned again, and found the telephone. She searched the memories of Amy Travis for the telephone numbers of suitable candidates. Accessing. Candidate identified. Proceeding with primary program.

Dialing the number, she tossed her hair back and brought the phone to the programming disk over her left ear. It rang a few times, and then there was a click.


INPUT RECEIVED. ACTIVATE VOCAL. “Hey Jason, how’s it going?”

“Amy? Yeah, pretty good . . . hey, sorry I didn’t call you but I wanted you to know that Jeff and I are both coming to your party next week.”

INPUT RECEIVED. ACTIVATE VOCAL. “Awesome! I’m really glad, because that’s what I was calling about. I realize this is last minute, but do you know what you’re going as?”

“I dunno, probably a pirate like I always do.”

INPUT RECEIVED. ACTIVATE VOCAL. “Well I’ve got a better idea. Erica and I are going to be dressing up as something special, and we need two guys to go along with us or it won’t work. Think you’re up for it?”

Jason laughed, but he was obviously interested. “That depends on a lot, doesn’t it?” he asked playfully.

INPUT RECEIVED. ACTIVATE VOCAL. “I see,” she replied knowingly. “Playing hard to get with me. OK, then why don’t you come over tonight? I can show you your costume, and we can, you know, try it out.”

Jason laughed again. “Sounds good. See you around eight.”


Unit N995 pulled the phone from her ear and switched it off. Putting the phone down, she began to pick up the clothes she’d taken off earlier. They were now completely unnecessary. She brought the clothes to her bedroom, where Unit N996 continued to work. Stuffing everything in one of her dresser drawers, she found her power cord waiting in its black plastic box.

The ongoing modifications and enhancements to her internal systems required a great deal of power. It was necessary to recharge.

Reaching behind her back, Unit N995 fitted one end of the power cord into place, not the least bit surprised that a correctly-configured port had formed just above her buttocks. She then reached down and plugged herself into the wall. RECHARGING UNIT. STAND BY.

Rising, she turned her back to the wall and stood at attention while the batteries now housed within each of her breasts began to recharge. It would take some time, but she would be at full capacity by the time Jason arrived.

There was much work to be done.