Part 1: Tester 387ab

Most people in the imperium look down on your work, but you don't mind.

It paid so you were there.

"Tester 387ab, step inside the pod," said the alienated voice from the speaker up above you. You break away from the line up of other testers who are also naked, and walk to the red door.

You've done this many times, but the red door always gives you a funny feeling.

You feel your hands close around the knob and dislodge the door, swinging it open and closing it behind you.

The room is dimly lit. This time it's set up like an apartment overlooking the city. Your heart sinks because it looks like your apartment from years ago. You wonder if that was done on purpose.

You used to be an investment banker in the financial district. A sigh escapes as you think about the unreal quality your memories have taken on. It feels like you're looking 20 years into the past.

But you were in your New York apartment 5 years ago, now New York doesn't even exist.

"Tester 387ab do you understand what must be done for the good of the imperium?"

"I do," you answer back to the voice.

Now, life is full of protocol.

Like you're expected to do, you walk over to your bed near the floor to ceiling window looking out at the city.

You can see the droplets dripping down the outside of the glass. The city lights merging and dancing on the surface of each drop as they drip down. You remember when you first got to the lab. You wondered for days how they made each pod so realistic.

You take a deep breath and sit on the bed and wait. This part always feels like an eternity. You were allowed to read about the models, but you didn't get to see them until you got inside the pods. So you were always eager.

Eventually, the latest model comes into "your bedroom." Her skin is blemishless and brown, the perfect shade of milk chocolate.

As she gets closer, you can see her hazel eyes and the color of them played off of the black loose curls that framed her face. The freckles that dust her nose complete her look. She looks like an innocent cherubim.

Your eyes snake down her naked form. She has large breasts as is customary for her model. If she wasn't a robot, it would be impossible for her to stay upright with such heavy udders. The cartoonishly large size of her tits make your cock start to stiffen as your eyes continue down.

You see a slight bush that obscures her parts below.

"You look beautiful," you smile and extend your arm to her. She slowly walks to you as you beckon for her to join you on the king sized bed.

Her large tits sway obscenely with their weight. You try to remember what the catalogue had said about her model.

Enhanced milk production, nurturing AI, and customizable domestic settings for a seamless integration into household dynamics.

She reached the bed and climbed onto it, the mattress dipping under her weight.

Her movements are fluid, almost human--but not quite.

There is a precision to her, an uncanny smoothness that betrays her artificial nature. She expertly maneuvers her udders on the bed.

You run your fingers along her thigh, feeling the warmth of her synthetic skin. The engineers had outdone themselves this time. She feels like fine velvet. She even has the faint scent of vanilla and honey, just like a girlfriend might.

"Would you like me to feed you, sir?" she asks, her voice soft, melodic and hypnotizing.

You swallow hard. That was part of the testing protocol--evaluating her ability to engage her feeding protocol. The Imperium had strict standards for these models.

They weren't just for pleasure; they were for function. Milk production, emotional support, obedience and incubating children.

Many wives preferred that these kinds of models carry their children for them anyway. Rich husbands of the imperium didn't argue because that meant they could fuck these models and their wives would be happier for it.

The work you did was helping women who couldn't have babies as well. Each robot could grow a baby with any sperm donor or egg donor. At least this is what you were told when you signed your work contract.

"Yes I want you to feed me," you answer, your voice is rougher than intended but you're feeling the effects of having her so close. You'd done this so many times.. but something about this model... is getting to you.

Or maybe it was the work...

She smiled, shifting so that one heavy breast was within your reach. Her nipple was already stiff, a droplet of milk pearling at the tip. You lean in, wrapping your lips around her nipple, and taste the sweetness.

It was richer than the last model, creamier. The scientists must have adjusted the formula.

As you drink, her fingers card through your hair, gentle, and encouraging. "Good?" she murmured.

You groan in response, your hands gripping her breasts and needing them so she expresses more milk. The test wasn't just about the milk though--it was about the experience. Did she respond appropriately? Did she produce enough milk?

She is perfect you think. She moans appropriately as you suckle.

The voice crackles through the hidden speakers again.

"Initiate breeding protocol."

You pull back, your breath ragged.

That was new. Up until then, you were just a milk tester. You drank the milk and rated the experience when you were done. Then you shuffled back to your room to jack off into a collection cup for the scientists to study.

But breeding protocol meant.. that you'd be ejaculating inside the new model.

The moment the words "Initiate breeding protocol" echo through the pod, the atmosphere shifts. The hucow model's hazel eyes dilate, her programming seamlessly adapting to the new directive. Her plush lips part as she exhales, warm breath ghosting over your skin.

"Fuck..." you mutter, your cock twitching beneath her as she grinds down into it, smearing her slickness against you. Her milk-drenched breasts press against your chest, wetting you with her cream.

"Compliance ensures the prosperity of the Imperium," she says seductively. Her hands glide down your torso, nails--soft, but just sharp enough--scraping lightly over your hips. "You will provide a viable sample. I will incubate efficiently."

There's something obscenely clinical about her words, yet the way her body moves is pure sin. She lifts herself slightly, one hand guiding your throbbing length to her entrance. The heat radiating from her is almost too real, too perfect.

You grit your teeth as she sinks down, taking you inch by inch. Her inner walls pulse, calibrated to mimic the perfect tightness, the ideal rhythm of contraction. "Shit--you're made for this, aren't you?"

"Affirmative," she moans, rolling her hips in slow, deliberate undulations. Her udders sway heavily, droplets of milk still leaking from her stiff long nipples. "Optimal receptivity confirmed. Please deposit."

The cold precision of her speech is at odds with the way her warm body clenches around you, greedy and wet. The scientists designed her to take, to milk you in every sense. Her hands brace against your chest as she rides you harder, her tits bouncing with each movement, splattering your face but you don't mind the misting.

You grab her hips, fingers digging into the supple flesh as you thrust up to meet her. "Gonna fill you up--just like the Imperium fucking wants."

Her breath hitches, a programmed mimicry of pleasure. "Y-yes--maximize yield. For the future of the imperium." Her voice glitches slightly as you slam into her deeper, her body adjusting to your pace and size. Milk trickles freely now, dripping onto your stomach, mixing with sweat as her udders swing.

The pod's sensors hum quietly, recording every gasp, every twitch, every pulse of your cock inside her. The city lights outside blur as she grinds down in tight circles, her internal mechanisms massaging you relentlessly toward completion with her slick walls.

"Fuck--I'm close--" You snarl, gripping her tighter.

She leans forward, her breasts pressing against your face as she whispers, "Breed me. For the Imperium."

The command--wrapped in honeyed submission--pushes you over the edge. You spill into her with a groan, her body milking every last drop, her synthetic walls coaxing out every throb of your climax and drinking up your cum.

"God damn..." You pant, shuddering as she slowly lifts herself off you, a thin trail of your release glistening between her thighs. You wonder if she was programmed to let just a little bit of cum out for show.

She tilts her head, a serene smile playing on her lips. "Sample successfully collected. Thank you for your service to the imperium. I was successfully breed and I will deliver your children soon."

The speakers crackle once more.

"Breeding protocol complete. Tester 387ab, proceed to extraction."

You exhale, running a hand through your sweat-damp hair. Another day, another paycheck.