Vickybot / Victoria

by Petey

            Just in case, if you’re under 18, don’t read this. It may warp your brain or get some of us adults in trouble. It is not as bad as some other stories, but still go elsewhere.

            Brett decided to tell her. He actually liked this girl and he thought she liked him back. Of course, she was in love with Brett Harrison, not “Sir_Droido”. Brett had been a part of the ASFR community for a long time. It was sad to think his relationship with the fetish group had lasted twice as long as any relationship he had with a woman.

            Many people use the Internet to be someone else. To act like they wanted to act in front of real people, but without the immediate social consequences. Brett happened to choose ASFR as his fantasyland. He had written stories of females becoming androids, androids learning to be females, men finding their girlfriends malfunctioning and shooting off sparks, and a wide range of other fantasies. He actually felt like he held sway with this group of world-scarred rejects.

 

            Something so integral to his life couldn’t be kept a secret from his girlfriend Vicky for long. He’d rather tell her himself than have her find a photo-manip on his desktop or a story in his hard drive. If he told her that she meant so much that he’d share a secret about himself no one else knew, she might even think it was sweet.

            He sat her down to a nice dinner, followed by some TV and snuggling. OK, snuggling may be toning it down a bit, but I’m a polite narrator. At the end of a particularly arousing “snuggling” session, he took Vicky over to the computer and began to tell her.

            “Honey, you know I really love you, probably more than any one I ever have before, and I need to tell you something. I haven’t told this to anyone, ever. Bruce doesn’t even know. My parents don’t know. But I feel like I need to tell you.”

            Vicky was a little worried by the build-up, “what is it Brett?”

            “This…”

            He handed her a tiny necklace with a 50's style robot at the end. It was hastily wrapped in tissue paper and cost Brett a couple of bucks. Vicky was befuddled by the gift. Brett then opened up a window to a page of photo manipulations and showed her some short stories as well. Vicky just sat there taking it in.

            “I don’t understand what I’m seeing, exactly,” she finally said.

            “ASFR doesn’t stand for “American Society of Fiction Reviewers.” It stands for alt.sex.fetish.robots. I’ve been a contributor to this group for years.”

            “What? This is about sex with robots? You want to fuck a calculator or something? This is disgusting! I thought you were normal.”

            “Everyone has their quirks.”

            “Quirks?!? Fuck quirks, you’re a fucking fantasy pornographer!”

            “Well, that’s not quite...”

            “I’m leaving; don’t bother calling me, you toaster-humping freak…”

            And with that, Vicky threw the robot charm at Brett and was out the door. She was crying on her way out. She thought she could love this guy, but now... no way. “To think that every time he touched me, he was thinking about Titanium. Every caress he gave me, he was thinking there was circuitry beneath. He wants a perfect little fuck toy, so let him continue to dream one up.”

            Brett was shattered. Too shattered to think; too shattered to cry; too shattered to feel anything right now. He had tried to reconcile himself with the idea that this could happen. Still, having it happen, and with such a destructive response, sent Brett into a deep funk. He sat there staring ahead until he closed his eyes and fell asleep right in that chair.

            The next morning he decided to drive. Even if it was a Monday, there was no way he could work in this condition. He hopped into his Honda and puttered off in random directions. He drove for hours until his car died. Out of gas. Funny, he just filled it up a few days ago. His car had stopped right in front of an electronics store.

            He had no reason to walk in, but he did. The store was cluttered, but had a lot of bizarre components on the shelves. Brett had very little mechanical knowledge of electronics (Is that the correct way to put it?), so why had he gone into an electronic surplus shop?

            “May I help you, sir?”

            “No thanks just looking.”

            “You look distressed. What’s the matter?”

            Again, Brett had no reason to tell this man anything. He was nothing more than an anonymous clerk with a Caribbean accent. Brett found himself compelled to spill the beans about his plight.

            “My girlfriend just broke up with me because I told her about my robot fetish. I’ve been in it for years and wanted to share it with someone live and in person. I thought she was my soul mate and would understand. So you can understand if I’m not particularly cheeky at the moment.”

            The Clerk furrowed his brow and asked, “What’s your screen name?”

            Brett again let his judgment lapse and said, “Sir_Droido.”

            The Clerk’s eyes flew opened wide as he heard this. “You’re Sir_Droido? I loved ‘The Half Gallon’, it was so honest!”

            The clerk continued his bit of hero-worship to an understandably flabbergasted Brett. What were the odds? It certainly took some of Vicky’s sting away. The clerk, turned out his screen persona was “Electric Sam”, and was actually named Sam, led Brett into a back room. Now it was Brett’s turn to make his eyes wide.

            There on the table was the torso of a robotic woman. It was obvious it was a robot by the metal wire coming out where her arms should be. Along the edges of the room were old computer parts and the humanoid shaped robot frames. If the people on Fembot Central could see this, they’d flip!

            “I take it you like my lab, Sir_Droido? The store is just a front for my true business. I create supermodels for the major fashion designers. Humans can only be so thin, but my robots can surpass those boundaries, making for even better walking clothes hangers. I’ve sold dozens at a hefty markup over the last year. Soon I’ll have so many out there that real human models will be completely obsolete. Now I want to give you a gift for all your work.

            Brett was snapped out of his wall gazing by this, “You’re giving me a supermodel robot? Cool!”

            “No, I’m giving you something better. These robots have no feelings, no emotion, and in normal conditions couldn’t pass for real humans. The one I’m giving you will be more like a programmable human than robot. ”

            ”Incredible, how are you going to do that?”

            “With the same Voodoo that brings life to my other creations.”

            “Voodoo?”

            “Yes, even my considerable skill could not create something like this, or power it into perpetuity. My family comes from a line of Voodoo shamans (is shaman the right word?), and my robots are powered and assembled by this magic. Originally, it let us use the rocks as warriors against our enemies, now it gives life to silicon chips.

            “Am I going to have to sacrifice a goat, or sell my soul, or something like that?”

            Sam got a chuckle out of that one. “No, all it requires is something that she has touched in the last moon phase.”

            Brett got a puzzled look, “She? Who’s ‘She’?”

            “Why, your Vicky of course. Now you can continue to love her and she’ll love you back. Not only that, but she can cater to your every whim. She’s completely programmable, so no more shouting matches.”

            Damn, this was tempting. Vicky as his personal sex slave. No wait, it would be Vickybot, hanging on his every word as if god himself were speaking to her. The potential power over another creature was intoxicating. He had doubts of course, and several moral qualms, but those were surprisingly cast aside. There was one question that bothered him.

            “Won’t there be a problem if someone sees two Vickies, or if Vicky sees her double? That could get real complicated really quickly.”

            “Well,” Sam paused to find a god response, “You can always keep her indoors, or move to another city. Some hair dye might even do the trick. Obviously she’d have no ID papers, but nothing is perfect, Brett. Also, I’ve only done this once before, so I’m not sure what can go wrong. If the transfer doesn’t work properly, who knows what could happen? I’ll understand if you say no.”

            “Fuck that! I’ve been dreaming of a personal sex robot for longer than I can remember! Just let me find something for you to use.”

            “Preferably something she was the last person to touch directly.”

            That was a bit tougher, until he remembered the necklace in his pocket. He only touched the tissue around it when picking it up.

            “Will this do?”

            Sam chuckled and took the tissue paper from his hand. He dropped the necklace into a small metal pot and added some ingredients. All the while, he was chanting and waving his arms over the mixture. When he was done, Sam took out a small vial and poured a silvery liquid in.

            Brett remained in awe as Sam quickly heaped some spare electronics on a nearby clear table and sprinkled the potion on the pile. If Brett hadn’t seen it, he wouldn’t have believed it true. A bright yellow glow enveloped the old computer parts and they hung in mid air. Slowly, the mass of silicon took the form of a woman’s body. Brett had been around those curves enough times to recognize them as Vicky’s. The computer parts had hardened into the form, but it was still speckled with computer chips, transistors and the like. At that moment, the yellow glow turned pink and was sucked into the inert form. Instantly, Vickybot had skin, hair, nipples, pussy; the works.

            Sam patted me on the back and snapped me out of my lustful stare. It was really happening, I had an actual sex android that looked and would usually act like the woman I loved. Sam took me over to her and showed me how she worked. There was a convenient USB access port hidden beneath her left foot. She could respond to simple vocal commands when preceded by “Vickybot, I order you to...”The real treat was a software package Sam had designed that could make larger changes.

            Sam guided me through a quick tutorial, showed me how to erase her memories or read old stored ones. There were controls for her personality and even a way to educate her directly through this link. Now was time for a test.

            “Vickybot, I order you to activate and sit up.” Sure enough, A beep emanated from her chest and she propped herself up. “Vickybot, I order you to act like Vicky Jones.” Vickybot opened her eyes, covered her sensitive parts, and screamed at Sam.

            “What have you done to me, you psychotic freak? Take me back to Rachel’s! I’m calling the fucking police! I...”

            “Vickybot, I order you to stop; ignore my previous order.” And with that she was once again motionless. Ugh, this might be harder than Brett had originally envisioned. With Sam’s help, Brett removed some of the social norms bred into Vicky’s mind. Vickybot was now proud of her body, and loved to show it off, in private of course. She now thought ASFR was a great thing and wanted to participate with him in sessions. Vicky could be a bitch, but Vickybot was almost always sweet, with a slight sarcastic streak in her, just to make things interesting. Now came the second test.

            “Vickybot, I order you to replace all memory of Vicky Jones with the Vicky Jones beta files.” With a whir and a few beeps, it was done. “Vickybot, I order you to become Vicky Jones”. This time, she opened her eyes, stretched, and smiled brightly at me. It was as if Vicky had just woken up after a night of good “snuggling”.

            “Good morning Brett, what time is it?”

            “About noon”, Sam chimed in.

            “I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met,” Vicky said.

            “My name is Sam, remember? Brett asked me to help you out with some fantasy role-playing.”

            “Oh yeah,” Vicky smiled, “You were absolutely wonderful Brett, as usual.”

            Brett was liking Vickybot more and more. “Come on Vicky, let’s go home.”

            “Umm, I need some clothes sweetie.”

            Sam threw her a big sweatshirt and some sweatpants. I guess it made sense for him to keep a set of clothes around that would fit a wide variety of “forms” but still looked almost normal. “Just return them next time you’re on this side of town,” Sam told them. “And Vickybot, I order you to remove my shirt.”

            “What did you say?” Vicky said, giving an expression of understandable confusion.

            “See Brett, She only obeys your commands. Never hurts to plan ahead.”

            Vicky slipped on the sweat suit, and we headed out the door. She even complained about how it made her nipples itch. This was incredible. I almost ran over half a dozen pedestrians while navigating back home, which earned me a snide comment from the passenger seat. Nothing too mean, but I could tell that she saw me as her lover, not her Lord and master.

            They got home and barely made it through the front door with all their clothes intact. When Brett had started pawing Vicky, she had responded in force without explicit command. My, how convenient. They went at it like animals until Brett could take no more. There was no difference in bed between this Vicky and the old one.

            The only difference was Vickybot’s willingness for different types of sex. She let Brett take her in the ass and mouth, something the real Vicky loathed. But when he received the oral sex, it was just like the times Vicky had relented. Once, they role played with Vicky getting “activated” and playing the super-horny sex machine. She was a robot, pretending to be a woman, pretending to be a robot. Brett couldn’t help but snicker at the situation. Things were perfect.

            Well, almost. When Brett awoke, Vicky was nowhere to be found. He searched his small place until he thought to look for Vicky’s spare work clothes she had kept there. Sure enough, they had gone missing.

“Oh Shit. Vickybot must’ve gone to work. OK, it’s 8:25. She doesn’t have a car, so she must’ve taken the Metro. If I’m lucky, I can drive to her office and intercept her before the real Vicky comes in.”

            Brett hopped into his car just as Vickybot entered her office. She had left herself a large time cushion to get in to work, in case the subway was crowded. She felt kind of bad not saying good-bye to Brett, but he was sleeping so peacefully and had the day off. She was the second person in her department to get there, only Boris was around. Boris had been trying to get into her panties for a year. She thought about filing a complaint, but he was the boss’s golden boy.

 

            “Hey babe, looks like you had quite a night. When are you going to drop Brett?” This was pretty normal for Boris. Vicky wasn’t the only one he did it too, but she was his favorite. “I think we need a ‘private’ meeting.”

 

            Vickybot’s new Vicky Jones programming hadn’t been specific to Brett. No one else could give Vickybot orders, but Vicky Jones now loved to show off her body, in private. She gave Boris a smile and said, “Your office is right over there.”

            Boris nearly fell over in a mix of shock, joy, and lust, but managed to whisk Vicky in his office and closed the blinds. Vicky unbuttoned her jacket and blouse, exposing a sexy lace bra. Boris shot up like a rocket. “Here, let me get that out for you”. Vicky lowered his pants and boxers low enough for her to get his penis out. She promptly went to town, sucking him off with great gusto. It didn’t take long for Boris to shoot a load into her waiting mouth. Vickybot swallowed it all, and got a pleased look on her face. That look froze there.

            “Vicky? What the fuck is happening?”

            Inside, the cum had temporarily leaked into her power core. She was locked up without power. Fortunately she came back online shortly thereafter with a short squeal before Boris got too curious. “Sorry, just savoring I guess.”

            Meanwhile, Brett was rushing up the stairs to Vicky’s office.

            “Did you see Vicky Jones come through here?”

            “Yes” replied the floor receptionist.

            “What was she wearing?”

            “Umm, I think she had on a light blue business suit…”

            Good, that was Vickybot. Brett had time to sneak her out.

            “But I thought I saw her in a beige outfit too.”

            Oh, shit. They were both here. While Vickybot siphoned off a quart of cum, Vicky Jones had walked in to find her desk already set up for the day. She just assumed she had accidentally left it that way. Brett walked in as Vickybot was coming out of Boris’ office. Vicky was in that large work area the offices emptied into. Brett needed to be fast. Fortunately, Vickybot was between him and Vicky.

            “Vicky! Over here”, Brett called to Vickybot. Unfortunately, Vicky heard him too.

            “Brett? What are you doing here?” Vicky said as she got out of her chair.

            Nuts! He ran up to Vickybot and whispered in her ear, “Vickybot, I order you to go back to my house immediately”. Vickybot’s eyes went wide as she strolled out of the office area. The real Vicky didn’t recognize her robotic doppelganger from behind.

            “What are you doing here Brett?”

            He had to think fast, “I came here to see if anything had changed from last night. I’m sorry I kept it from you. I’m sorry I did it period. I’m sorry I did anything that upset you. I love you Vicky, more than you know, and the thought of losing you tore me up inside.”

            Vicky was startled by Brett’s statement of love, and touched. “Brett, I’m sorry I stormed off. It’s just that my father always had pornography around and it angered my mother and I so much. I think I love you too, no matter what you do online. I hope I can make it up to you tonight.”

            Brett was at first pleased to hear this, but then he remembered Vickybot. What was he going to do with her? Vicky gave him a peck good-bye and went back to work. Brett left and began planning what to do with Vickybot.

            Vickybot had made her way home and was now sitting in a chair, watching TV. Brett knew what he had to do. Vickybot got up and asked, “What was so important I had to rush here? I have a job, I’m not available for sex 24/7.”

            “Funny you should mention that dear. I have something to confess. You’re not Vicky Jones, you’re a robot.”

            “More role-playing? I love this.”

            “No role playing, you’re an android. Vickybot, I order you to expose some internal wiring for the Vicky Jones personality to see. Nothing permanently damaging.”

            Vickybot went to Brett’s kitchen, took a butcher knife and opened up a square of flesh in her left arm. The servos and multi-colored wires were in plain view, but not damaged. The Vicky personality came back on and stared at her wound in awe. Then she smiled.

            “Brett! How did you do this! It’s a dream come true! You know I wanted to be a robot, why didn’t you tell me right away?”

            “You aren’t Vicky Jones inside a robotic shell, you’re a copy. The real Vicky Jones is still out there. You were created from old computer parts and a copy of Vicky’s consciousness was stuck inside with magic.”

            “So why are you telling me now?”

            “I had you made after Vicky broke up with me. She hated my ASFR fetish, but I programmed you to adore it. However, when I got you out of the office before anyone saw the two of you together, we reconciled.”

            “What will become of me?”

            “I don’t know yet. I have a plan, though…”

            Vicky, the real Vicky, came straight to Brett’s after work. She had the feeling that Brett was the one. It had taken being apart from him, even if it was for a few hours, to realize her deep feelings for him. When she walked in, Brett had a candlelit dinner table all set up in his living room. He had even dressed in his tux.

            “Have a seat, Mademoiselle.” Vicky sat down and watched Brett pop open some champagne for them.

            “Wow; I should yell at you more often.”

            “Actually, I needed to ask you something. I was given something last night and I want you to decide whether or not we keep it. Evebot, I order you to come in here.”

            In stepped Vickybot, with some modifications. Her hair was cut in a shorter style and dyed red. She had tinted contacts and was heavily made up to make her look as different from Vicky as possible. She had on a figure enhancing bustier and stockings to complete the new image.

            “Vicky, she’s an actual working android. If you want me to have her destroyed, I’ll understand.”

            “You got an android that looks like me? You’re so obsessed with me you got a duplicate made in less than a day?”

            Shit, the disguise hadn’t worked. The jig was up. “I should’ve cut my losses and given Vickybot back to Sam.” Brett thought.

            “I love it. I don’t have to go into work or clean ever again. This is so neat.”

            “You don’t think it’s… creepy?”

            “No, I know that no one else can compare to me in your mind. You could’ve been watching a double of Claudia Schiffer trot around in the buff, but you chose me.”

            “She has your memories too, well not for the last day or so, and there are some behavior modifications…”

            “Shut up and kiss me, Sir_Droido.”

             


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