The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Droids R Us

By Cordelia Speedicut

Chapter 4

I rode Daddy for twenty minutes before he came. I’d come a bunch of times by then, but I saved the biggest for last. Well, not last, exactly—afterwards, I managed to massage and suckle his dick back to life with my pussy, so he was good to go for another quarter-hour. After his second orgasm, though, he was pretty much done in. He gasped like a fish for a bit, then managed to say, “We both know you can go on like this for hours—but I need a rest! And something to eat.”

He gave me a smooch, and then lifted me off his knackered knob.

I was a bit disappointed I’d worn Daddy out already, but I sucked it up and said, “Sunday breakfast! Right—what would you like? Fruit? Cheese? Eggs Benedict? Coffee, fer sure.”

“Christ, I’m sorry, Trace, I forgot you can’t eat ...”

He’d also forgotten that his stated needs were my commands, although in this case the sooner I fulfilled them and got him back in fettle, the sooner I’d be back in the saddle. “Don’t worry about it—relax and I’ll whip up anything you like.”

“Just some bacon and eggs would be nice—and, yeah, coffee. Thanks.”

“You got it,” I chirped, and skipped off to the kitchen to get started while Daddy hauled himself out of bed and showered. He wandered in just as I’d finished laying out our breakfast. I joined him at the table—I wasn’t hungry (for food!) but it just seemed cordial. And, hungry or not, it all smelled pretty good. I idly dabbled a finger in the jam and licked it clean—mmm, strawberry. So then I though, well, I can eat cum—so why not nibble on some of my other favourites? After all, it would all come out in the wash ... so to speak.

Daddy lifted an eyebrow as I began to tuck in. “God, Tracie! I look at you, and I still see Lacy, but ... she never ate with me.” I guess Lacy just wasn’t much for breakfast, ‘cause if I could do it ... hey!

All in all, I could see Daddy was starting to look on the bright side—after all, I’d become his daughter, his lover, and his sex-toy, all rolled into one package. I was planning to get him to work his way down through that list, again, but just then the back door burst open. Which meant, Adele had arrived! Hurray!

“Did you tell him?”

“Hello to you, too, Adele,” said Daddy.

“Right! Hey, Richard,” she said, and then laid a big kiss on him. “Yum—marmalade! She didn’t tell you, did she?”

“Give us a hint, cutie.”

“We think maybe we should go see Adele’s Uncle Max. We need to set up a cover story so she can keep spending time with you and me.”

“Good idea. When?”

“Well ... nowish, actually. I told Mom I was walking over to Max’s place for a while. We’ve still got two and a half hours,”—she gave me a meaningful glance—“before robo-babe, here, turns into a pumpkin.”

“Looks like you’ve got it all figured out. Carry on then; I’ll go rest my weary bones and then take another EverReady pill.”

“Geeze, Tracie, don’t wear him out. Save a little for me.”

Well I can take a hint—or in this case, direct orders from each of my owners. Fine then—let’s go see Max.

* * *

“So—what’s the plan?”

“Did you read all about your accessories, yet?”

“Huh? Not as such ...”

Adele sighed. “Not a problem. Listen—Uncle Max really thinks of Greta as his girlfriend, even if it looks like there’s a bit of a ‘Stepford Wife’ thing going on. She’s got her own bedroom, and her own stuff. Anyway, let me do the talking.”

We’d simply shown up on Max’s doorstep. It was still only eight o’clock, but Adele said he was always up early, ‘cause Greta kept the same hours as I did. Which meant we knew she’d be awake (as it were), too.

“Hey, Uncle Max! It’s me!” Which it pretty much had to be, since we were knocking on the glass door of his pool room, and standing there required getting past his two big Dobies.

It was Greta who answered the door, wearing a high-cut swimsuit. She was blonde, and way taller than I’d expected—like, almost six feet.

“Hello ... " She paused for about a nanosecond when she saw me behind Adele, then continued, “Come on in.”

Max came up behind her, in a tatty old bathrobe. “Hey, Adele.” He gave me a quick, appraising look—but it was a ‘checkin’ out yer bod’ sort of look, not, ‘Say! Aren’t you a robot?’

“Hey, Uncle Max. This is Mister Ward’s friend, uh, Lacy.”

“Hi, Lacy. Ward? Oh, right—Tracie’s Dad. How’s she doing?” Which meant either my demise wasn’t common knowledge yet—or, more likely, Max just hadn’t heard the news. I’d visited with Adele a few times, pre-Greta. So he was bound to think it was odd for her to bring over Daddy’s luscious new tart (which is what I must have looked like, in spite of my wearing my most respectable clothes) and not me—Tracie.

“Oh, she’s ... pretty good,” said Adele. Then she just smiled.

Max gave a tiny shrug—knowing his niece would explain everything when she was good and ready to—and invited us in to sit.

“Want anything to drink? Soda, or coffee?”

“Sure, I’ll have a Perrier.”

“Yes, I’ll have one too, please,” I added. No harm in keeping the fluid levels up between flush-and-fills, what with all the leakage between my thighs.

Interestingly, it was Max who went over to the pool-side bar for the drinks, not Greta. She smiled blandly and offered an opinion about the weather—which in these parts doesn’t change from one week to the next—while we checked each other out.

I remembered she’d fooled Adele, at least for the short time until Max had spilled the beans, and I could see how. Her owner had a taste for Germanic girls, obviously, but we were the same in so far as—what? Quality of finish? Craftsmanship? Whatever, we both looked like the real thing. The only way I could tell she was a machine like me was that I could sense her power plant. Plus, if I focused, I could hear the faintest of whirring from inside her. And vice versa, of course.

And yet Adele was convinced Greta couldn’t hold up the pretence for long. The only thing I noticed was that my fellow droid was a bit deliberate—she seemed to be careful about what she did and said. As opposed to me ... even after my ‘change’, I tended to act without thinking. Although, when my brain or my programming caught up, the brakes came on. Adele had said I couldn’t hurt anyone, but if they snuck up behind me and yelled, “Boo”, all bets were off.

When Max came back, Greta was saying nice things about my clothes. Maybe she’d run out of semi-intelligent conversation soon, but that wouldn’t make her stand out around these parts, either. And then there were her eyes—I could swear there was a spark of humour there. She certainly saw no reason to tell her owner about my secret identity.

Max gave us our drinks and sat down on the sofa, and she slid into place right beside her master, which made me notice that I’d done the same beside Adele. I edged away a bit, to play cool, and took a slug of water.

“Have you known Richard for a long time?”

“Um, yeah. Quite a few years, actually,” I answered. “Tracie, too.”

“She’s a good kid.”

I nearly thanked him, but instead managed to say, “Yeah, well, she has her moments.”

He laughed at that, and said, “Don’t they all,” with a meaningful glance at his niece.

Adele didn’t seem to take offence, or show any sign of getting to the point, either; whereas, I was getting positively fidgety, with a side order of horny. I pulled my legs under me and began to fiddle with the top of my trousers ... little tugs that pulled the crotch-seam against my clit.

Obviously, this wasn’t a social visit, but Max was willing to wait Adele out. He just asked me another blandly polite question: “Where you from?”

“Texas, actually.” Lubbock, to be exact. That was an easy one—the factory’s address was on the front of my manual. “But I’ve spent quite a bit of time out here.” Before manufacture, that is—not since.

“Still follow those Cowboys, though, huh?”

Cowboys? What the ... ? Oh. “Not so much. Daddy ... uh, my Dad is into basketball. So now I follow the Lakers. Like Richard.” Nice save.

“Me, too,” he said. “Your daddy teach you to ride, too?”

Damn straight, I thought. Just had another ride this morning ...

Adele spoke up, when she saw that I had lapsed into a sort of carnal reverie. “I think Uncle Max is talking about your jodhpurs, Lacy. I told you people would think you played polo, it you wore those things.”

Actually, when she’d looked for something for me to wear for this visit, she’d told me they were the least provocative pants in my closet (and that all my skirts bordered on obscene). She’d also said that she hoped to get me to fuck the daylights out of her while I was wearing them, as soon as possible.

“Um, yeah. What she said. No horses for me ...” I had started to blush, and tried to change the subject. “Greta—can you swim?” I really did want to know, but it was a dumb question. If droids can stand up to their shower cycle, they’re unlikely to short out in a pool. It was an even stupider question to ask a girl wearing a bathing suit, which was all that Greta was supposed to be.

She ignored that, and said, “Yes. Can you?”

“Yeah. I think so.” As in, I think I still can, but it came out sounding even dopier than my previous gem. I shrugged and giggled, not sure whether I was just nervous, or if I my dial really had been set to ‘bimbo’.

Adele rolled her eyes, and said, “I had to tell Lacy all about Greta.”

Max lifted one eyebrow back at her. For a moment, he reminded me of Daddy. “Did you, now?” He looked at us expectantly.

“The thing is,” Adele began, “she has this problem. There was sorta an accident, over at the Wards. Tracie was using a virtual reality rig ... "—playing with that sort of expensive toy was relatively common, hereabouts—“And got stuck.” That, of course, wasn’t. “She’s stuck inside Lacy.”

She got a long stare in response, and then Max looked at me and said, “Pull the other one.”

Adele smirked. “Tracie—go get Greta’s attachment 6-B from her room.”

Max’s face told me that attachments of any sort were news to him. I just got up and headed down the hall. Chairs all have a homing beacon—which Adele must have known. I was soon back with the same sort of double-ender I’d used on her the previous night.

“Thanks, Tracie. Now deep-throat it.”

“I gave her a look—this is your plan? But I proceeded to swallow a quantity of the limp thing, until I felt it stop up in roughly the same place inside me as it had before, at which time it had been coming up from the other direction. And once again, connections were made. I’d already gotten the hang of it, so it was easy to simply think what I wanted, and then watch the half still hanging out of my mouth stiffen and rise—and stretch my lips even wider in the process.

Meanwhile Max goggled ... and Greta smiled.

My mechanical cousin was already on her feet, just waiting for her master’s permission. Max gave the faintest of bemused nods, and she started pulling off her swimsuit. She was definitely as horny as me. So of course I got shed of my own clothes. Hot damn!

It took me a full minute, since I had to peel my pants off my newly enlarged bum while trying to see what I was doing around the knobbly copy-cock protruding from my mouth. I was still hopping on one foot when Greta started sucking the other end of the thing down her own throat. We finished up standing in a major lip-lock, and I could feel her linking to it—to me. It was a rush—I could feel the entire surface of that throbbing mass inside us, plus I was suddenly awash with all the new sensations I was receiving from her body.

Did I mention I’d been a bit of a klutz back when I was human? Between the double-deep-throat induced orgasm and the trousers caught on my left foot, I totally lost my balance, and toppled sideways into the waiting pool. Needless to say, I took Greta along for the ride ... or, rather, for the dunking. We settled to the bottom, our limbs writhing together, and proceeded to come twice more. Each. Talk about your mutual orgasm. It was afterward that Greta’s eyes flew open. At least one of ‘em, anyhow—our noses were offset, so her left eye was staring at my right. Her thoughts were not human, exactly, but I could read them even more clearly than the muffled input from Lacy: What are you?

Even as I picked up her question—and her alarm—I found I could shop through her memories and presets ... and even those of her alternate personality. Whereas, I was pretty sure she wasn’t able to read me. Maybe she could tap into Lacy, but not me. Hell, even I couldn’t read me. It turned out I could use our phallic link to talk to her, though. Which I did, to answer truthfully enough: Don’t worry—I’m just Tracie, like Adele said.

It was time to check in with the surface world. I jabbed my finger through my belly button and, sure enough, the same release catch worked for bottom and top—the connections to my end of the wang thingie let go. It stayed hard, though, with Greta now keeping it up; but I was able to back-paddle myself off (about which, yummm!) and pop up to the surface. “Come on in, Adele, the water’s fine!”

Adele blushed and glanced over at Max. I’d sort of forgotten the pool was full of naked girls—well, okay, a pair of horny droids. Swimming with us was maybe not something she was ready to do in front of her uncle.

Uncle Max, on the other hand, was still focused on Adele’s story. He remained unconvinced. “So Lacy is a bot. And it looks like Richard got a new improved model—why the goofy swap story?”

Just then, Greta spread my thighs and drove her mouth-mounted toy home into my ever-ready pussy. I gasped from the surprise of it—although I no longer had any need for a lungful of air—and then, seeing as I couldn’t tread water anymore, I sank back into the pool. Yes! Wait, no—I want to hear what they’re saying ...

I could feel myself re-connecting to Greta’s attachment—and found I could do the mind meld thing again, once I had. This time, I was mostly picking up honest android lust. I could have told her to take five, but I didn’t really want her to stop—it felt too damn good. And anyway, I found I could still hear Adele and Max up on the surface, even if their voices sounded echo-ish:

“Max—I know you bought the best droid in the catalogue. The original Lacy was the exact same model—a PD1600. And it wasn’t a swap—Tracie’s personality, her memories, everything—she’s all in there.”—I could see Adele’s wobbly-looking arm waving down at me from the edge of the pool—“Its not a joke! The rest of her, the flesh and blood Tracie, is ... DEAD!” She sounded pretty mad.

By then Greta and me had our respective lips mashed together, hiding the wang-toy that linked us—on top of which, she was forcing her long tongue into my pussy alongside the thing. We were floating near the bottom, and I was still thrashing a little, so we were doing slow summersaults. But now, even as we were getting off on each other, we were both trying to follow the argument up on dry land:

“... I’m really sorry to hear about Tracie. But what you’re suggesting...”

“Trust me. I know it sounds impossible, but it happened. She knows stuff ... everything Tracie knew.”

“But ...”

As much as I was enjoying Greta’s attentions, I decided to wade into the argument topside. Well, soon-ish, anyway. I logged a few more minutes of bliss, before finally telling Greta to take a break. She obeyed immediately, which was interesting. While she settled back to the bottom, presumably to sulk, I kicked back to the surface. Adele was still glaring at Max, who just looked stubborn.

I launched out of the water and hoisted myself onto the side of the pool ... with one hand. Damn, I thought. I really am strong.

“Hey Max,” I said. “You’ll agree now that I’m a droid, yeah?”

“Yeah ...”

“So—you must think that Daddy had me made to look a little like Tracie, and had me programmed to know all about her. Am I right?”

Max glanced at Adele, and then nodded.

“But you’re prepared to accept that Tracie has come to a bad end? And that Adele believes I’m now her? Tracie, that is.”

“Looks like, yeah.”

“So why not cut her some slack? Give her a chance to convince you—for now. After all, you love her.”

Max had the good grace to redden at this. “What makes you think ... I mean, she’s my niece, of course I love ... but ...”

“I don’t think, I know. Don’t worry—I’m not gonna tell you this is Tracie’s intuition. It’s just a droid thing.”

By this time, Greta was climbing up the ladder on the opposite side of the pool, with one end of the wang-toy trailing limply over her shoulder. When she reached the top she turned to wring the water from her long blonde hair. The other end of the toy nestled between her boobies—she’d disconnected the toy from her throat after all. Apparently, it was just me that needed to read my manual.

“Greta,” I said. “Activate ...”—drum roll here, please—“Adele!”

Greta blinked, and then said, “Hey, Uncle Max!” Then she noticed Adele and I. “Oh.” She looked slightly confused ... and she sounded exactly like Adele. She cocked her head in a very Adele-like manner, and cased out our bodies much as Max had when he’d met me-as-Lacy. “Hi there.” she clearly had no idea who we were. She must have seen what I was, though—after all, Greta had.

“I’m Tracie,” I told her—while glancing defiantly at Max—“and this is Adele. THE Adele.”

The Adele-bot looked even more baffled ... and hurt. Geez—her synthetic lower lip was trembling. Whereas, Max and Adele looked flat-out stunned, like maybe two Adeles couldn’t even exist at the same time and place, and they expected somebody to vaporize.

And suddenly I realized I had it all wrong (like that had ever happened before).

In the first place, when I’d glimpsed Greta’s alternate personality, down in the pool, I’d assumed that ‘Adele-B’ was awake and following all the action—even if she was stuck in the back seat to go along for the ride, just like I’d been when I first wore the head ring. But she must have been shut down cold. The poor thing must have been snuggling alongside Max and then—BAM! The next instant, she’d found herself standing bare-assed in front of strangers. Worse, she wasn’t just impersonating Adele; she’d been programmed to think she was Max’s lover-niece.

So now here was this rude android bitch introducing someone else as the real Adele. No wonder she was upset. Well, I was the one who’d dropped the house on my sister droid—so it was up to me to try and fix things.

“I’m sorry, Adele,” I said to Adele-B, “that was a shitty thing for me to say. I’ll make it up to you, if you let me. Just let me summarize some stuff for my friends, here.” I turned to Max first. “Max—that Adele over there—the little dark-haired one—has been using a virtual reality link to Greta’s body, so she could experience fucking you. She liked it so much that she talked me into trying it with Lacy—but that went south and now here I am. Oh, and yesterday she put what she learned from you into practice, and fucked like a bunny with both Daddy and me.”

I gave him a moment for that news to sink in, then turned to his niece. “Adele—your Uncle wants you so bad that he bought himself a sex-bot that could secretly simulate you. He was thinking of you when he fucked her. So—work it out.”

By then the two of them had ramped up to bugeyed-stunned. I reached over and lifted the combination fuck-toy slash mind-meld-link still lying forgotten on Adele-B’s shoulder. “Me and the other Adele, here, are gonna do some bonding. And Max—you’ll want to decide whether you want her to be her own person—Estelle, say...” This recommendation was delivered with a hard stare. “Or whether you want to confuse us all by fucking your niece Adele, as well as your other niece Adele. In which case, this one will want to perfect that funny little snorking noise that Adele makes just before she comes, by listening to the real thing.”

Adele—the original one—finally came back to earth. “I do not snort!”

“Snork—and of course you don’t,” I said, grinning. “If you say so.”