Her Wildest Dreams Ch. 07

[Author's note: Harper James has turned to hypnotic scripts as therapy for her anxiety condition. However, they are opening up a new world of possibilities for her and her husband Peter.]

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ELECTRIC DREAMS

Mondays at the mall were hit and miss. Sometimes the store was dead all day, and sometimes Harper would be rushed off her feet because there was an event organized. Today, there was some show going on in the main concourse as she stepped out of the store to grab lunch. She threaded through the scrum of people patiently and reached the salad place at last. Only then, did she realise what she'd done.

Harper took a seat, picking at her lunch, but really just revelling in it: the crowd were having a good time, watching a kids fashion show that had been set up in the middle of the concourse. She felt the positive energy from them, as opposed to the terror that should have filled her. The script was working, after all: she hadn't even thought about the anxiety until she was through the crowd and out the other side.

Harper munched lettuce, contemplating it. They'd come a long way since those first tentative steps with hypnosis. Peter had gotten very good at being able to drop her on the spot; she would just stare into his lovely blue eyes and wait for the inevitable command to drop into trance. There were no spirals or crystals or swinging watches. She had become conditioned to fall into a trance through a set of post-hypnotic triggers that made her very susceptible to her husband's inductions.

But Peter had gone further, not only dropping for her, but reaching a deeper level. He'd been able to forget himself completely, to the point that he sometimes couldn't remember what had happened unless Harper explicitly implanted the suggestion that he would retain the memories. She always made sure he retained the memories, because it was so indescribably hot to put him under and turn him into a fantasy.

The witch scenario had been a revelation. She'd felt herself surfacing, even though Peter remained deeply embedded in the fantasy. She'd been able to observe him close up, unable to detect a hint of the husband she knew and loved within Munro, the villager lost in the woods. She'd been able to convince him completely that he was captured under a witch's spell, without any free will.

The memory flashed into her head, even in the middle of the mall, of his body at attention with his substantial erection, eyes glassy, staring directly ahead. As far as he was concerned, she'd turned him to wood with her magic. Nothing she'd done had elicited the slightest glimmer of awareness.

She'd surfaced at that point, no longer Vyra the witch, and back to Harper the wife. The carefully crafted cabin in the woods turned back into their house in the suburbs. On a whim, she'd left him frozen in his statue pose and started writing notes for her story. It had been an experiment to see how long it would take him to rouse from trance naturally, but after a while she'd had to give up because his naked body had been too much of a temptation. She'd lowered herself onto his persistent erection and enjoyed the orgasm trigger inside her own head. Peter hadn't moved an inch throughout.

When at last she had freed him from the spell, and brought him to the front door of their house, checking to make sure that nobody was on the darkened street, he'd surprised her again. To him, reacting now to the warm air around his bare body, winter had given way to summer, and she'd gotten a glimpse of a wider story that was playing in his head.

Peter had later described it like being in one of those dreams where everything feels so real, where it's like the person is in a film. He'd taken the bare bones of her story outline and turned it into a full world of fairies and forests. That he'd just decided that he was a beast and therefore needed to pee outside on the front lawn had been both hilarious and a wake-up call. Peter's imagination was vivid and his ability to drop into the deepest level of trance, profound.

Harper found herself envying him that. After all, she was the one writing stories in her free time, wanting to be a proper author. Working in the fashion boutique wasn't going to be long-term. Ideally, she would have a baby and a book on the go at the same time, melding the worlds of new-mother and debut-writer effortlessly. She put her hand on her belly, even before she realised she'd done it, then got out her phone to message her husband.

He needed to be home on time tonight. They had a schedule to keep.

The afternoon dragged, but the closer it got to five o'clock, the more impatient she became. There was an itch that she couldn't scratch, getting more persistent as the minutes ticked by. All the way home, she felt it, like clockwork in her core, a need. It was the right time of the month. This time they'd get something to stick, she was sure of it.

Peter was already home when she got there, and Harper felt an overwhelming sense of relief. She strode purposefully into the kitchen, where Peter was making himself a drink, and deposited her handbag.

"Good day today?" he asked.

"Yeah, actually. I handled a huge crowd in the mall at lunch," Harper replied, peeling off her panties under her skirt.

"And?"

She grinned. "Not a murmur."

"Hallelujah, you're cured."

"Something like that. You've been in my head long enough now. It was bound to stick at some point, even with me." Harper unzipped her dress and folded it on the counter.

"Because you're so stubborn?"

"I like to get what I want." She crossed the room to her husband, naked from the waist down, still in her heels. "How was your day?"

Peter unzipped his pants. "Shit, as usual. They're trying to ramp up a new project but the client's a mess. I might have to go on site and do workshops with them."

Harper reached into his underwear and extracted his manhood. "When and for how long?"

"Probably late next week, just overnight. Is that okay?"

Harper tapped his tip with her finger and watched his erection swell immediately. "We should be out of the fertile window by then. I guess I won't need you."

Harper took up position, elbows on the dining table, presenting her naked rear to her husband.

"You always need me, babe," Peter replied and then slid into her.

Harper was already sopping, frictionless. She felt him embed himself completely, and said, "Cum for me."

Peter's cock swelled within her, and she felt the delicious tingle, catching her breath as she anticipated the moment. Peter twitched and then began to pulse, emptying his balls into her. Harper felt her own orgasm rise up from out of nowhere, triggered automatically. She clenched her teeth, emitting a low, guttural groan as the pleasure washed through her.

Peter moved, but she reached back and clutched at his hip. "No, stay a minute, Pete."

"Okay. You want me to cum again?"

"No, once is fine."

"Still want to do one more before bed tonight?"

"Yeah, that should cover it. Just stay inside a bit. I like the feeling."

Harper closed her eyes, savouring the fullness inside her. She could imagine Peter's seed finding its way into her womb, hunting for her egg. She liked to visualise it. After a while, her husband began to soften. She considered a trigger to keep him hard, but as much as it was fun to watch him walk around with a substantial hard-on all evening, he'd done his part in the last couple of days. Maybe tonight they could just make love.

Harper pulled forward, letting him slip out of her, cradling her pussy with a hand to catch the drips.

"Why don't I get dinner started?" Peter said. "You go lie back and...."

"And marinade?"

"Something like," Peter laughed, holding his glistening cock. "I'll just wash first."

Harper retreated to the lounge, laying on the cushions, tucking her knees up to her chin. She'd read that it didn't make a difference, but she wasn't taking any chances. Her mind began to wander.

The post-hypnotic triggers had been easy enough to instill in the both of them, to the point that she could milk her husband's cock on demand: in the morning before work, getting home, last thing at night. They both orgasmed, but it felt transactional. She was looking forward to being off-schedule and able to simply enjoy making love again. Peter came in with a glass of water for her.

"Thought you might like this."

She sat up a little and took it from him. "Thanks. Look, about your trip, I've been thinking. When you get back, let's play."

Peter smiled. "As in, the sexy witch? Or the slave girl?"

"You mean, anyone who isn't your wife?" she fired back.

"They're all my wife. That's why it works, babe. I'm not interested in cheating. You're enough."

"A lot, Pete. I'm a lot, right?"

Peter settled down on the edge of the couch, looking down kindly. She met his eyes, feeling the delicious yearning to let herself fall into them. Peter seemed to understand.

"Want me to put you under?" he asked. "I could wake you up again when dinner's ready. Give you a bit of a break from the day?"

"Your day sounds worse than mine. Maybe I should do dinner. Hey, maybe I could do both, Pete. What do you think? Just put me under and give me a recipe."

"Uh, a hot stove and a wife in trance is not a good combination. How about you just concentrate on fertilisation and I concentrate on food."

Peter leaned down to kiss her on the forehead, and then he got up. She tingled inside, watching him go. She'd wanted to just get lost in his eyes and drift away. Maybe she'd ask him to do that tonight, to put her under and then make slow love to her. He'd be able to control her arousal, her climax, to tease and deny for as long as he wanted. Then, the end, when it came, would always be explosive for the both of them. Harper smiled softly to herself.

An idea began to take shape as she daydreamed. The idea of being put to work making dinner while in a deep trance held a fascination. She wondered at it. When at last she was called through for dinner, a story had taken root.

Harper slipped on her panties again and sat down. She didn't bother with the skirt.

"Pete, I've been thinking."

"Uh oh."

"No, seriously. I've got an idea for a story."

Peter deposited a plate in front of her and handed her some chopsticks. He'd cooked a chicken stir fry for them both. She smelled it appreciatively. He sat down opposite her and began to tuck in.

"Okay, spill," he replied, around a mouthful.

"I've been reading a lot of short stories, trying to position myself. There's a lot of opportunity at the spicier end of romance, even into more unusual things. Would you feel comfortable with me writing that?"

"Spicier than sexy mind-controlling witches?" Peter replied, "And believe me, Vyra is hot. She's a WILF."

"Uh, I'm guessing a witch-I'd-like-to... okay. No, I meant more, uh, specific. Sala, Vyra, it's all fairly mainstream romantasy."

"I've read your sex scenes and they're pretty hot, if I'm honest. I mean, after the initial shock that this is all coming out of my own wife's head."

"Your unassuming, meek wife, Pete?"

"I never said that."

"Your dowdy, plain, vanilla wife?"

"Now you're putting words in my mouth."

Harper pouted. "You think I'm vanilla though."

Peter levelled a stern gaze at her across the table. "Harper, after what Germaine Priestly did to me in the penthouse, after what Sala did, I'm pretty convinced you're anything but."

"So, you'd be okay if I went a bit further with my stories?" Harper nibbled at a piece of chicken, trying to judge her husband's reaction.

"Such as?" Peter asked.

"People are into all sorts of things. Would you be comfortable with me going into that?"

"You mean fetishes?"

Harper's chopsticks paused in midair. "Uh, yeah."

"Depends. I mean, there's a lot of weird stuff out there, and I'm not sure how I'd feel about you writing about, I dunno, sex dungeons."

"I already wrote about sex slaves. Sala was a sex slave, basically."

"That's different. I mean, uh, I guess I'm not being very clear."

"You mean there are some fetishes you'd like me to avoid. Which means there are some you'd like me to write about."

"I'm not saying that."

Harper resumed eating, and the silence lengthened between them until at last Peter filled it. "Tell me what you had in mind."

Harper paused, picking her words carefully. She felt a little nervous twitch in her tummy. "You remember Vyra, Pete? The bit you said you liked was being turned into the beast. Why?"

Peter toyed with his plate for a little while. "It was like I switched off being me. I kinda was just able to unleash myself. I didn't have to think, I just did. You seemed to like it. Why?"

Harper regarded her husband's expression carefully. "I liked feeling the power you had, the way you made love to me, like it was the only thing that mattered on Earth. You had this single purpose and you were doing what you were made for. I could tell you weren't thinking, you were just doing. It was so hot."

"No, I mean, why do you ask? What did you have in mind?"

Harper blinked, her face colouring at the depth of her unnecessary admission. "Oh, yeah. Well, I've been reading a few stories about robots. It seems to pull together a lot of elements, and there's a strong following online."

"Sex robots? Uh, talk me through it."

Harper could feel herself turning red. Worse, she could see that Peter had noticed. She had the feeling that he was going to make her give him excruciating details.

"They're human-looking," Harper began. "They have all the, um, bits, but they're robots. They're built to please, and of course they look stunning. The stories get lots of hits. Obviously, it would need research."

Peter actually smiled, which unnerved Harper even more. She felt deeply embarrassed for no reason she could understand, unless.... It felt like confessing something to her husband, and it was turning her on powerfully to be surfacing the idea with him. They were talking about a fetish, about kinky, weird stuff, and she had to admit that it was making her hot.

"Research it as in...?" Peter asked, leaving the question hanging.

"You know, Pete. Want to be my research assistant?"

He shook his head, laughing. "You're not turning me into a sex robot, Harper. It's enough that I get hard whenever you tap my dick, and I cum on command these days. I'm not sure how much more I want to be programmed by you."

Harper felt the familiar tingle. It was perfect, an obvious progression from slipping deep into a mindless trance, to being turned into a sex machine. To obey and give pleasure.

"No, babe, I meant me," she confessed.

"You want to be turned into a sexbot so you can write about it and get followers?" Peter stated, deadpan.

Harper's cheeks burned, and she couldn't meet his gaze. She picked at her plate instead, nodding. It sounded so ridiculous when he echoed it back to her. But, there was an appeal that had snagged her. A thing made for fucking, unable to help itself as it was used by its master. Harper remembered how Sala had felt as she surrendered herself to the handsome Guild Master, because she'd consciously surrendered herself to Peter, pulling Sala's puppet strings from the background of her trance. Harper wanted to go deeper, like Peter was able to. She wondered what it would be like to be able to lose herself like her husband did. She envied him that ability.

"Sounds fun," Peter said. "Where do we start?"

Harper's eyes flicked up to her husband again. He was tucking into his dinner heartily, like he had been discussing movies to watch, instead of a plan to turn his wife into a robot sex doll. Harper's nipples hardened beneath her top and she felt a tickle between her legs.

"Uh, let me... uh, I'll work up a synopsis," she stammered. "We can do it after you get back from your work trip."

"Fine by me. I'll need a bit of light reading to keep me sane."

Harper resumed eating her dinner, but the tingle didn't go away. She could already picture it. Two weeks would be a long time to wait.

---

Despite herself, Harper was building up a little collection in the bathroom wastebin. Peter hadn't said a word, but the little white pregnancy tests would have been hard to miss. There was something about this time, she kept telling herself. They'd covered all the bases, Peter inseminating her every eight hours when her app told her she was most receptive. They'd done everything right this time.

She was staring at the stick in her hand, shocked. Automatically, she deposited it in the bin with the others and flushed the toilet. They had a story to play.

Peter was waiting for her on the bed. "You ready?" he asked.

"Yeah. All good."

He frowned. "You sure? You look a little distracted."

"Nah, I'm good, Pete. Just wondering if we should put the washing away first."

"Leave it. You'll do it later."

She settled on the bed next to her husband. There had been a lot of preparation for this one. Harper had been conducting deepening exercises until she'd finally managed to let herself go completely. Peter had been able to walk her around the house and she'd been completely unaware of it. He'd put her under again, and she'd fallen deep, ordered to fetch a glass of water than she had no recollection of. It had just appeared in her hand and five minutes had blinked past.

This time, only she was going under. Peter would remain as he was, fully aware but playing a role, so that he could monitor Harper more closely and keep her under for the full session. Given what they were about to attempt, which was her complete submission to trance, he'd need to be watchful for signs of her surfacing. Peter slipped her earbuds in and she rolled over onto her side to stare into his eyes, readying the script on her phone. She met his gaze.

"See you in the twenty-second century," Peter said, and hit play on the phone.

Harper listened to her script and stared longingly into his mesmerising blue eyes. Peter's voice echoed in her head, counting her down. When the voice told her to sleep, it was like he'd switched off the lights.

Harper rolled onto her back, eyes closed, breathing deeply and slowly, just as Peter's voice told her to. He was counting her down again, deeper. She found herself analysing the way her body was responding, feeling the trance taking hold, feeling the familiar compulsion to relax, letting it happen. But this time, the part of her mind that was still aware was waiting. It was like being on the rollercoaster: the cars were in motion and it was too late to get off the ride. She was being pulled inexorably towards something, a drop. Peter's words soothed her, melting the tension from her limbs until she was just a puddle on the bed.

"In a moment, I'm going to take you deeper," Peter's voice told her. "I'm going to bring you up, and then drop you. Each time you're going to sink further and further into mindless trance, until your mind opens up completely to my instructions. You've done it before. You'll do it now."

Harper tensed, waiting for the words, teetering at the top of the rollercoaster.

"Drop," he said, and she did.

There was exhilaration, a vertiginous spiral down and down that she welcomed gladly. Peter's words melted into her mind, and then he was counting back from three, to two, to one.

Harper opened her eyes again, looking up at the ceiling, conscious of her husband's body next to hers. He was slowly erasing her mind, stripping away the essence that made Harper herself. It was both thrilling and terrifying at the same time, the idea of being rubbed out and redrawn into whatever Peter wanted her to be. It was the final frontier, the supreme act of trust, to allow her husband to empty her completely. Her breath caught, a feeling like panic prickling her spine because she knew how the script worked: fractionation, assaulting her consciousness like waves on a beach until her resistance crumbled and the sea swept in, irresistible. The phone was next to her. She could pause it and stop, she just had to avoid hearing....

"Drop."

Harper's eyes rolled back in her head instantly, showing just the whites. Her brain emptied completely of all thoughts. Peter's voice was still speaking, but she couldn't understand the words. Then he was counting her up again.

Harper blinked, aware of the bed beneath her. There was a phone. Something about a phone and pause and....

"Drop."

She spiralled again, unable to stop herself, perfectly under the command of the voice in her ears. Like the rollercoaster, she felt the tug of gravity as she bottomed out of the drop, the weight pressing on her body all at once. Then there were numbers again.

Blinking. Ceiling. Breathing. Soft bedclothes beneath. Phone?

"Drop."

She didn't struggle at all this time, letting the words in her ears empty out all her thoughts. They were doing something to her each time, erasing more and more of her identity, hollowing her out.

Numbers again. Staring sightlessly. Mind blank. Drop. Numbers. Wake. Drop.

She lost track of the drops, lost track of where she was, and then who she was. The cycle repeated until she was completely blank, unthinking and obedient to the voice in her ears. There was no more counting up. The words echoed in the emptiness of her mind, beginning the process of filling it with new data.

She needed new data. She required input to fill the void inside herself. The voice was patient, explaining her purpose. She needed to understand what she was and she listened gladly, soaking up her programming. Finally, the voice was silent, and she understood that she was now complete. Having no more to process, her mind went completely blank, waiting for her thoughts to be activated again.

Her ears received audio input: "Activate". Her eyes opened, receiving visual data: a bedroom.

"Tell me what you are."

"I am Harperbot, gynoid unit GN421."

"Sit up. Tell me what you see."

Harperbot sat up. She was on a large, circular bed clothed in silver sheets that shimmered in the late afternoon sun that streamed through tall floor-to-ceiling windows. The walls were white, and so was the ceiling, bright and airy. A man was lying on the bed next to her in a flowing white garment that reached below his knees. His eyes were sparkling blue. She recognised that his ragged blonde hair required tidying. Harperbot described every detail.

"Go to the windows, describe the view."

Harperbot rose smoothly from the bed. She was dressed like the man on the bed, which was wrong. Gynoids weren't usually fitted with human attire. At the window, she looked out and obediently recited the things she could see.

They were high up, maybe the hundredth floor, with a wide view of the city. On the horizon, vehicles weaved around similar spires, dipping down onto landing pads and taking off again. Far below, a riot of colours and shapes teemed along the regular grid of city streets. The sky was perfect and blue, cloudless, with the sun lowering towards the west. She described everything.

"Good."

She felt a flush of satisfaction at being able to carry out her instructions.

"And who am I?"

Harperbot turned back to the man. He'd risen from the bed and was watching her intently.

"You are Peter James. You are my owner. I await your instructions."

Her owner crossed the room, pressing a section of the wall. It opened, revealing clothes. He took out a uniform and passed it to her. She understood immediately, stripping herself and folding the clothing neatly in a pile for him to take. Her chassis was bare beneath.

"Stop. Describe yourself."

Harperbot paused, looking down at her body.

She was a standard service unit, titanium skeleton for durability and strength, plastic skin coloured pale pink, smooth and shiny. She had long, synthetic, dark hair. Gynoids came in different colours and sizes, but her owner had chosen her height, her body shape, the colour of her skin, her hair, and her eyes when he'd ordered her from the factory. He had customised her to his tastes, selecting her breast size as neither too big nor too small, but somewhere in between. He'd paid for deluxe features, such as realistic-looking nipples, a belly button, and then, beneath the neat triangle of dark hair between her legs, an orifice. She obediently relayed the observations to him.

"Good, now dress yourself."

Harperbot took the uniform, puzzled by its appearance, but that soon faded. The garment was a single piece, shiny plastic-looking like her own skin, in black. Carefully, she wormed her way into it, feeling it stretch and conform to the curves of her body. Harperbot adjusted her cleavage, feeling the latex supporting her artificial breasts, and then tugged the hem down over her shiny plastic thighs. It didn't come down very far.

Her owner provided a matching pair of black high-heeled shoes that she stepped into without hesitation, straightening herself up, showing him her trim body. Finally he gave her a black wrist cuff that she secured around her left forearm. Her owner passed her clothing back to her.

"Do you know your purpose?"

She looked down at herself, and it made perfect sense. "I am a maidbot."

"Good. Begin by tidying up the clothes."

Harperbot moved to obey, putting the clothing she was holding onto a shelf in the wardrobe space. She turned, surveying the room, and located a pile of washing to be put away. Harperbot busied herself with her task while her owner went back to the bed and picked up a small rectangular object from the sheets. He tapped thoughtfully at the screen, glancing up at her with a smile, muttering to himself.

"You're going to be so unimpressed when you find out what I dressed you in. But, fuck, it's worth it. You look so hot."

There was a click, and she turned to see the little object held up to her. There was another click, and then her owner grinned. Harperbot hesitated for a moment, unsure if she was going to be given further commands, but her owner just folded his arms, smiling at her, and she resumed her task.

There was a chime in her ears and her mind went blank, paused mid-stride with a handful of clothing.

"Oh, wow. That worked too, the audio triggers in your earbuds. How does that feel, Harper? I've basically turned your phone into your remote control."

Harperbot blinked. She couldn't respond because she couldn't process her owner's question. Her mind had been paused. There was another chime, and she resumed her task as if she'd never been interrupted.

Her owner waited patiently for her to finish, and then held out the little rectangular screen.

"Here is your control panel," he told her. "Install it."

Harperbot took the screen and slid it into the cuff on her forearm. She looked down at the controls, and next to them, a list of tasks to be completed. The first one was to tidy the washing. It was done, so she tapped the item to dismiss it.

There was a tinkling of bells in her ears, rewarding her. She felt a shiver of pleasure, all the way down to her front orifice. It felt good to complete her tasks. She read the next one: vacuum the carpets.

"Before you begin, look at your control panel again. There is a button to activate your diagnostics. It will reset your system if you start to feel as if you're not, uh, functioning properly. Do it now."

Harper obediently tapped the button.

There was a sound in her ears, and the world faded away immediately. Her eyes rolled up in her head and she froze in position as words echoed around in the emptiness of her brain. Then her awareness returned.

"It's like a factory reset, in case you start to come out of it."

Harperbot didn't understand, but she nodded anyway, to please her owner. Then she went to find the vacuum cleaner.

As she worked through the rooms of her owner's residence, she became aware of her situation. Her uniform was tight over her body, shiny like her own plastic skin, stretching as she bent over to pick up a piece of paper from the floor. She was aware of her owner watching her from behind as she presented the curves of her tightly-packaged bottom to his inspection. It fulfilled her programming to display herself. After all, her owner had customised her specifically to his tastes. She was also aware of a moistness in her front orifice, beneath the tight, black latex, and wondered whether she had developed a minor lubricant leak.

When she'd finished the floors, she tapped her control screen again and was rewarded with the tinkling of bells. Her body shuddered with delight. She started her next task eagerly, working her way down the list.

Harperbot cleaned her owner's shower unit until it sparkled. She stood up, stretching, feeling a little ache from being bent over. She frowned. Gynoids weren't supposed to feel stiff. Was she malfunctioning? She could feel that her front orifice had dribbled a little lubricant down the inside of her shiny plastic thigh. That was a cause for concern.

She put the cleaning products away in the cupboard under the kitchen sink and then tapped the screen on her forearm, marking off the task. There was a little tinkling sound in her ears, giving her an intense shiver of pleasure. She wanted to feel it again.

Harperbot blinked, analysing the thought. Gynoids weren't supposed to have wants either, beyond providing perfect service to their masters. Thoughts began to encroach on the edge of her awareness. She looked down at the shiny plastic uniform, at the way it enveloped the curves of her body tightly, leaving nothing to the imagination. It looked like a maid costume, like you could buy online. Where had that thought come from? She was malfunctioning.

Harperbot raised her forearm and tapped the button that read 'diagnostics' and waited. Words filtered into her head from the input devices in her ears. There was a reset command, and her eyes rolled back in her head instantly as her brain was wiped. She had no concept of how long she remained frozen in the middle of the kitchen, but when her awareness returned, her owner was there.

"Status?" he asked.

"Harperbot programming reset completed," she replied, tonelessly.

"Reason for reset?"

"Cognitive malfunction. Erroneous data detected."

For some reason that she couldn't comprehend, her owner laughed. "Did you start thinking for yourself?" he asked.

"Erroneous thought processes have been removed. Harperbot is now fully functional again. Did Master require assistance?"

Her owner pushed a strand of her dark, synthetic hair behind her auditory receptor. "Maybe next time we need to give you a personality," he mused.

"Master had a choice of personalities that come as standard with gynoid units."

He smiled at that. She didn't understand why, but then again her brain was much simpler than his, only able to process single thoughts.

"Specify," he commanded.

Harperbot's eyes rolled back in her head as she accessed the requested data. She focused on him again, and reeled off a list.

"Standard upgrades are as follows," she announced. "Wifebot, mistressbot, maidbot, sexbot. There are premium upgrades and customisations but they would require an upgrade to your service package."

"And which one are you?"

"I am Harperbot gynoid unit GN421, maidbot. I am designed to keep your residence clean, cook meals, attend your needs."

"What's the difference between a wifebot and a mistressbot?"

She paused for a moment, assessing her available data. "A wifebot will give you loving attention. You may sleep with her and have conjugal relations."

"Conjugal relations?" her owner chuckled. "Please, this is fascinating. Do go on."

"A mistressbot is a temporary replacement for your biological wife, either due to illness or absence. It is programmed to fulfill your needs when your wife is unavailable."

"And how is that different to a sexbot?"

"A sexbot is made to provide sexual interface opportunities at all times. It may be positioned around the residence for future use, for example on the bed. It may be positioned beneath your desk to provide oral satisfaction during video meetings."

Her owner's eyes went wide. "Oh, okay. That's a lot of info. Uh, and the upgrade process to one of the others is...?"

"Gynoid restart and new personality designation."

"So, I just switch you off and turn you back on as a sexbot?" her owner replied. "And then what?"

"I fulfill all your sexual requests, Master."

Her owner brushed her cheek with his thumb, smiling softly. "You would, too, wouldn't you? You'd let yourself be turned into a sex doll. You'd just sit under my desk sucking me off until I told you to stop. That's... that's a revelation."

His eyes drifted down her body and she felt a thrill at rendering such satisfaction to her owner.

"When you put on the latex maid outfit without a word, I nearly choked. You've got no idea how hot you look in it. But it's your eyes too. I can see that you're not there. You've gone away completely this time, haven't you? You really believe you're a... what did you say? A mindless maidbot."

Harperbot blinked, electing to respond to his last sentence. "I am GN421, maidbot," she confirmed helpfully. She really couldn't understand any of the rest of his words.

"Let's upgrade you."

Harperbot felt a tingle in her core programming. Her owner was going to change her. She was ready for him to rewrite her personality to fit in with his desires.

"Specify," she told him.

"Harperbot, restart. Activate sexbot."

She just had time to feel an overwhelming pulse of pleasure before her mind shut down completely.

It blinked. Master was frowning at it. "How are you?" he asked.

It waited patiently for instructions.

"Harper, are you okay?"

It continued to wait patiently for instructions.

"Uh, status?"

"Harperbot gynoid unit GN421 sexbot activated. Awaiting instructions."

"Oh my God. This is a headfuck. Can you talk?"

"Awaiting instructions."

"Wow. It's like you've simplified all the way down."

It stared back at its master, waiting for a command to be issued. Those words did not constitute a command and therefore required no response.

"Can you even understand what I'm saying?"

It waited.

"Uh, okay. You're a sexbot now. Okay. We didn't discuss any of this. Uh, I don't even know what you'd like to do at this point."

Master seemed to be having trouble deciding what commands to give, therefore it waited.

"Uh, what sexual functions are you capable of?"

It was able to answer the question, and did so in a toneless monologue. "Oral stimulation. Hand stimulation. Vaginal intercourse," It hesitated for a split second but found no conflict in its programming. "Anal intercourse."

"Fuck, Harper, what?" Master gasped. "Oh my fucking God. Confirm last."

"Sexbot orifice provided for anal intercourse."

"Yeah, I'm sure it is, but, shit, you'd kill me afterwards. No, let's stick to the script, not that you appear to be at all. Harperbot, oral stimulation."

It dropped to its knees instantly in the middle of the kitchen floor, its mouth forming a perfect 'O' as its fingers worked at Master's clothing. Master was staring down at it in amazement.

"Specify," he rasped, as she extracted his firming shaft from his pants. "Do you receive pleasure input during the process?"

It paused, Master's cock tip inches from its lips. "It does not require pleasure. It is built to provide pleasure."

"How about we update your programming, sexbot? Let's make sure there's something in this for you."

It paused, unsure as to whether it should begin oral servicing. Master's cock had become like an iron rod in its hand.

"Route all sensation to your pleasure centres," Master told it. "Increase sensitivity until at orgasm level."

Its eyes rolled back in its head, accepting its new programming without question. Master had decided to update its pleasure responses.

"Begin."

It took Master's cock into its mouth and began to suck. Immediately, it felt immense pleasure in its core at orgasm level, as Master had specified. Its face remained passive throughout, keeping up a steady cadence as it sucked the cock that was between its lips. Each suck, each movement sent an orgiastic surge through its entire body, but since it hadn't been programmed to display its pleasure, it continued its suckling of Master's cock in quiet silence.

It used long, powerful motions, sucking deeply, using its tongue to tease Master's tip, until it could feel him twitching in its mouth. It lost the ability to track time as its internal clock was disrupted by the ongoing avalanche of orgasmic pleasure to its core processing centres. It began to shut down all unnecessary cognitive functions to preserve its system integrity from being overwhelmed. It would certainly require a hard reset after this.

It was beneficial that Master's cock twitched just then, and flooded her taste receptors with his seed. It had been very close to catastrophic system failure. Master pulsed and it swallowed his load automatically, as it had been programmed to do.

Master allowed it to clean his cock thoroughly before pulling out. He zipped himself up. It noticed his rapid breathing and flushed complexion, noting human male orgasm response signals for future reference. It would endeavour to use this new data to provide a better service the next time it was used.

"Was that as good for you as it was for me?"

It stared up at him and then opened its mouth to show it had disposed of his cum like it was programmed to do.

"Fuck, Harper. You nearly ate me alive. I've no idea where that came from. You look like you didn't feel a thing."

Master stroked the sexbot's hair and it waited patiently to be put to further use.

"Uh, nothing to say? I guess not. Um, status?"

"Gynoid unit had received and is processing androgenic input."

"You mean, you swallowed. Pleasure?"

Its face remained impassive, but its lovely grey eyes were dilated.

"Much pleasure," it responded in an expressionless monotone.

"Shit. I need a minute. Gimme a minute."

"Understood. Shutting down."

Its eyes rolled back in its head, and it froze in position, kneeling in its shiny maid uniform on the kitchen floor. Its lips were parted, but apart from the gentle rise and fall of its chest, it was completely still. It would wait passively for Master to activate it again and put it to use.

Its auditory receptors detected words, but its brain had been suspended. A subroutine analyses the input, only interested in the command to reactivate. Its tactile sensors were aware of a hand cupping its chin, then stroking its hair.

"I'm gonna record this, so you'll know for afterwards, because you're sure as shit not aware of it now."

There was a beep from above her.

"Harper, hi," the voice continued. "Look, I guess this is you. I don't know if you'll remember any of this, because you look like you really, finally went all the way down this time. I've had you clean the place for an hour and it's spotless."

The voice was changing position, circling her.

"Sorry about the costume. I was in two minds whether I told you beforehand, but I thought it would be a fun surprise. Plus, it seems to have kept you in the mindset. You look absolutely amazing."

Her visual receptors registered a phone in front of her face.

"There's really nobody home. You just gave me a blowjob like your life depended on it. You've invented some personality types to choose from, and I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. I chose sexbot. I was so curious. I hope you're not going to be mad at me."

The phone pulled away.

"You do exactly what I tell you to do, without any resistance. I'm not sure what's going on. I know the stress you've been under, with babies and everything, maybe this is an escape. But, it's been hours now, and you usually surface long before this point. It's almost like you want to stay down there. You want to be mindless. Is that what's going on?"

It didn't react. It didn't record Master's words. They flowed through its empty mind like water.

"Harperbot, activate wifebot mode."

She shuddered, feeling her limbs come to life again. She was kneeling on the floor in front of her husband, which was strange. Harperbot rose smoothly.

"Would you like me to make you dinner?" she asked. "You must be hungry after a long day."

Her husband seemed relieved. "Welcome back," he said. "Yes, I would like to eat. Will you eat with me?"

"Of course, I'm designed to take food. I have all the necessary apparatus to ingest and excrete. I would very much like to have dinner with you, Master."

Harperbot turned away, crossing over to the refrigeration unit to begin preparing her husband's meal. It gave her a sense of accomplishment to be able to serve him like this.

"Will you get changed for dinner too?" he asked.

Harperbot looked down at her maid uniform. Her husband would like to see a beautiful wife opposite him for dinner, she realised. The uniform didn't fit at all.

"Of course. Let me put the food into the heating unit and I will change for you."

Harperbot slid the chicken breasts into the heating unit and cast her eye over the rest of her preparations. The vegetables were chopped and ready to simmer on the stove element. She wished that her husband had provided a kitchen that she could interface to, then she'd be able to control the cooking while she was getting changed. He was a little old-fashioned like that, sometimes.

She swished into his bedroom, pressing her hand to a wall section and opening it up. This was where he kept female clothes for her to wear. She knew that some wifebots were never given clothing, or were allowed a simple set to wear when they left the residence, and was grateful that her husband had chosen to provide her with such pretty things to dress herself in. It was important to look good for him. It was the purpose for which she had been built.

Harperbot stripped off the maid uniform and selected a pretty green dress. It was strapless, tight across her midriff, with inbuilt support to plump her modest breasts into delicious cleavage. She didn't need underwear like a real woman would. Instead, she zipped herself up and selected a pair of low stiletto heels. Maybe she should wear stockings at least? Did she have any?

Harperbot hunted through a drawer filled with underwear. It had been from earlier in her existence, when her husband had first purchased her, and had believed that she would need to wear panties and bras. At the back, she found her lingerie. Yes, her husband had decided that lingerie was still necessary on occasion. She pulled out a pair of smoking grey stay-up stockings and teased them up her legs. She inspected herself again, noting the way that the stockings sat high on her firm, shiny plastic legs. Her front orifice was still glistening. Her body had a reservoir of lubricant to make it pleasurable for her husband to enter her when he wished to, but it looked like the seal was faulty. She would have to mention it to her husband at some point. He might have to take her into the service centre for a full diagnostic.

She brushed her hands down the dress and stepped into her heels. The hem stopped just above her knees, revealing toned, shapely legs. Just like the brochures, still, she thought to herself approvingly. She brushed her hair until it fell in soft curves around her bare shoulders. Her face was made of plastic, so make-up was impractical, but she could still apply some lipstick. She chose a shocking red colour; she had observed her husband's reaction to it in the past.

Harperbot returned to the kitchen and began final preparation for the meal. The chicken was browning nicely, and soon the pots were bubbling. She was aware of her husband sitting at the dinner table already, looking at her.

"You look stunning," he said.

"Thank you, Master. I am pleased that you find me appealing."

"Oh, appealing doesn't begin to do it."

Harperbot brought cutlery over to the table and set places for them both. She didn't need to eat because she was artificial, but she knew how her husband liked her to. She bent over the table, standing close to him, and was rewarded by the friction of his hand up her stocking. The food would be nearly ready to serve now, but she waited, allowing the man who owned her to explore the body he'd selected.

His fingers reached up, under her dress, discovering her stocking top. They slid inwards, stroking her inner thigh, and she braced for the moment of contact between her legs. He would discover her malfunction, but she was made to be explored.

"No panties," he noted, his voice low.

"Gynoid do not require underwear."

A finger found her front orifice.

"Are you sure?"

She parted her legs subtly and allowed the finger to enter her. It gave her immediate orgasmic pleasure and she buckled, gasping against the table. The finger withdrew immediately.

"What's wrong?" he asked, alarmed.

"My pleasure circuits are still at maximum, Master. I wasn't reset from sexbot mode."

"You mean, you felt like that every time I...?" his voice trailed off, incredulous.

"Yes," she gasped, straightening up again as the surge dissipated.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. You didn't show it."

"You did not programme me to show it, Master."

She felt his hand on her hip, turning her. He stood, and she was face-to-face with her owner, seeing the concern in his eyes. "Reduce response to normal levels," he told her. "Fuck, I didn't mean to put you through that."

"Gynoids are built for pleasure, Master, as well as service. It was within my parameters, barely."

"You are a revelation," he murmured.

Harper returned to the heating unit. The chicken was ready, and so she busied herself with plating up. She brought the food to the table and was rewarded with a smile from her husband.

"This smells delicious," he told her.

They sat opposite each other and ate. There was a comfortable silence between them, punctuated by the occasional comment. Harperbot took mouthfuls of food, chewed it and then swallowed. It would be stored in her internals for later disposal.

"You haven't surfaced at all," her husband remarked, as she cleared the empty plates. "You're still deep."

Harperbot frowned. "I don't understand."

"No, I believe you don't."

She tidied the plates away into the washing unit, wiping down the surfaces, leaving everything spotless. She wanted to tap the control panel on her forearm to mark off a task, but her to-do list was empty. There would be no delicious tingle of completion.

Her husband came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, burying his face into her hair.

"I think we've finally crossed the threshold with you," he commented. "Just like you did with me in the witch's cabin. You're perfectly happy like this, aren't you?"

She turned in his arms, looking up at him. She snuggled into his body because it felt like the appropriate thing that a real wife would do.

"I am," she replied. "For as long as you keep me."

"Keep you? What does that mean?"

She buried her face in his chest, feeling him react to her plastic body. "One day, you'll get a real wife and I won't be necessary anymore. I will have served my purpose and been replaced."

"Harper, there's no replacing you," he chuckled, and she pulled back, puzzled.

"You mean, you would keep us both?"

Her husband's mouth dropped open and then he erupted into laughter.

"I don't understand," she protested.

Her husband took a moment to gather himself. "Yes, uh, I would. I'd keep you both."

"Good, I would like that. Even if I am only the maid. I would strive to make both Master and Mistress happy with my service."

Her husband stared at her, his eyes twinkling. "You absolutely blow me away, you know that?"

"Can I provide you with service now, Master?" she asked.

He nodded, grinning. "Yes, I would like my wifebot to provide service now. Set orgasm control at fifty percent."

Her eyes flickered as the update to her programming was processed. "Confirmed."

Her husband released her, stripping the control cuff off her forearm. "And let's leave that behind. I think I'm nearly done for the night."

He took her hand and she allowed herself to be led through the residence to the master bedroom. The lights softened automatically as the house controller sensed their arrival.

"Would you like a little music, Master?" she asked.

Her husband didn't reply. Instead, he turned her to face away from him. She felt the dress loosen as he unzipped her. He pulled the dress over her head and let it tumble to the floor, leaving her standing in just her stockings. She was keenly aware of how her body would look to the man standing behind her: perfectly proportioned, glossy plastic skin, toned legs wrapped in fine-meshed hose, waiting for him. Between her legs, her orifice gleamed with its lubrication.

"I am fully prepared," she told him. "Please specify how you would like to use me."

Her husband laughed quietly. "You mean, pick an orifice?"

"There are two that you have not yet used tonight."

"Are we back to anal again? Which would you prefer?"

Harperbot's eyes flickered as she ran internal diagnostics. She was equipped with multiple orifices. Two were dual-use, one for ingestion of food and also her husband's emissions, and one to excrete afterwards. Both could also be used for pleasure. Her rear orifice would need lubrication if he was to attempt it, while the orifice between her legs was already slick. She parted her thighs, turning to face him, displaying her glistening folds.

"My rear is not sufficiently prepared. You may void my warranty."

Her husband gave her a look as if he was trying to maintain control of himself, his eyes glittering with mirth. He took a deep breath and nodded agreement.

"Yes, I agree. It would probably void your warranty and our marriage. Let's just stick to what we know." His smile became sly. "Harperbot, undress me."

Harperbot responded instantly to her command, unbuckling her husband's belt and unbuttoning his pants. There was a nagging distraction: hadn't he been wearing a long, flowing robe? When had he changed? Was it at dinner? Her hands froze.

Her husband took her wrists and she stopped. "Here, let me," he said.

She watched him strip naked, and once his clothes were in a pile by her husband's feet, the discrepancy went away and she could relax. She didn't want to have to perform another reset again because she desperately wanted to complete her programming and serve his needs. There was a tension in her core systems that deepened as soon as she saw his manhood firming between his legs.

"I am programmed to serve in any way you...."

He didn't let her finish, scooping her up and depositing her roughly on the bed. There was something in his eyes that brooked no compromise.

"Enough programming," he growled.

Harperbot stared up at him, aware of what was about to happen. She splayed herself wide. "Do you require fellatio first?" she asked.

"Guide me in."

She grasped his shaft. It was firm and full. She positioned his tip at her orifice as he positioned himself over her.

"I've changed my mind," he grunted. "Let's dial the orgasm level up to a hundred percent right away. Only cum on command."

Harperbot's eyes rolled up, showing only the whites, absorbing the change to her parameters. The tension in her core became unbearable, sensing the pressure of his tip between her folds, anticipating the orgiastic bliss of his first stroke.

"This may invalidate your warranty," he rumbled, and slid into her.

Harperbot's body arched as the orgasm ripped through her. She clenched around his intrusion, gripping him tightly inside her body.

"Fuck," he gasped. "You feel like a steel trap."

He lowered onto her, his mouth finding her nipple and suckling greedily, still fully embedded. She mewled, overrun instantly with a wave of all-consuming pleasure. She felt him pull out of her and her body locked, bracing itself for the next orgasmic onslaught.

He thrust into her, and her mind glitched, reviewing her cleaning tasks, the feeling of the latex maid uniform tight around her plastic body, the way that dinner had tasted, the feeling of his finger intruding into her, the way he smiled, those beautiful blue eyes. He slammed into her again and again, until even those fleeting thoughts gave out, replaced by a pure white fog of endless ecstasy as her owner used her willing body for his pleasure.

Her programming unwound itself, resetting her higher-level functions, until she was running on automatic, simply a plastic body pushing up from the bedsheets to meet each thrust of her owner's cock, contracting and milking him because that's what a wifebot was designed to do.

She was Harperbot. She belonged to Peter James. She was a gynoid customised to his specifications to serve his every need. She didn't need to think. She only needed to serve and obey. She didn't have worries, or anxiety or doubts. She didn't need to be afraid. On the bed beneath the man who had chosen her to be in his life, she felt all of it finally empty out of her. The continual waves of climax washed her away and she evaporated at last.

A part of her awareness registered her husband filling her with his cum, her programming ticking off the designated task. But, she was in a place far beyond that now, floating, free.

"Harper?"

She opened her eyes, looking up at the face hovering over her, but he was too close to focus on, so she stared up at the ceiling.

"Are you okay?"

She blinked. Was she okay? A mental checklist ticked over in her head. She felt him pull out of her and then press his slick, hot body against her side, cuddling her. She'd had glitches, then leaking, and then, before that? What had it been? The little white stick in her hand in the bathroom. Staring at the window in it.

"Uh, Harperbot, report status."

Her eyes found his again. "Harperbot gynoid unit GN421 status update. Function upgraded."

"What? Upgraded? Specify. Are you malfunctioning?"

She could see the worry in his face. He didn't need to worry.

"No malfunction detected. Harperbot upgrade is as follows: carrier unit for human embryo."

She stared into bright blue eyes as they suddenly filled with tears. "Harper...," he gasped, and then his lips were crushed against hers, his arms wrapped tightly around her body.

He had asked and therefore she had given him her status update.

Yes, she had been upgraded. Her programming flicked through the options, adding one more to the list. She would enjoy being a motherbot. She very much looked forward to providing service.

---

[The end! Hope you liked how it turned out for them both. Follow me for updates to this and my other stories. If you like what you read, please leave a comment or a star rating. Constructive feedback is always welcome. If you want further adventures, or to check out my other stories, my story page is here]