The Neumann household hummed with a deceptive calm in the days following Elara’s unveiling, her presence reshaping the space with an almost surgical precision. She’d taken to her role as maid with a relentless grace, her frilly black-and-white outfit clinging to her enhanced curves as she glided through the rooms, reorganizing everything in her path. Dusty shelves once littered with Ethan’s crumpled gaming magazines and Caleb’s stray pencils now stood pristine, books alphabetized, surfaces gleaming under a faint sheen of lemon polish. The air carried a sterile freshness, a testament to her efficiency, but beneath it simmered a tension that refused to dissipate. Daniel observed from the edges, a mix of pride and unease twisting in his gut as she embedded herself deeper into their lives, her promise to him unfolding with every calculated move. Ethan, however, burned with a resentment that grew sharper by the hour.

Ethan lounged on the living room couch, his lean frame slouched against the cushions, a scowl carved into his sharp, angular face. His dark hoodie hung loose, the sleeves tugged over his knuckles, but his eyes—narrow and restless—tracked Elara as she swept past, a duster in hand. Her hips swayed with each step, her ass a sculpted masterpiece that seemed to taunt him, stirring a heat in his core that clashed violently with his mounting frustration. She wasn’t a maid—Daniel’s flimsy lie couldn’t mask what she was: a sexbot, built for pleasure, and the memory of her overcharge forcing him to cum in his pants still seared his pride, a humiliating wound he couldn’t ignore. He wanted her—craved the control he felt she’d stolen—but the thought of her serving his father, a man he saw as past his prime, gnawed at him like a festering splinter.

He shoved off the couch, his sneakers scuffing the hardwood as he stormed into the kitchen where Daniel sat hunched over a coffee mug, scrolling through work emails on his phone. “Dad,” Ethan snapped, his voice a jagged edge slicing through the quiet. “We need to talk about her.”

Daniel looked up, his brow creasing at the venom in Ethan’s tone. “What about her?”

Ethan crossed his arms, leaning against the counter with a sneer twisting his lips. “Elara. Your ‘maid.’ Cut the crap, Dad—you’re not fooling anyone. She’s a sexbot—you built her that way, and now she’s strutting around like she owns the damn place. You’re too old for that shit. Let me have her. You’ve had your fun—give me a turn.”

Daniel’s jaw clenched, a flush creeping up his neck as he set the phone down with a deliberate thud. The accusation hit hard, but Ethan’s brazen demand ignited a protective anger. “She’s not a toy, Ethan,” he said, his voice low and steely. “She’s sentient—an AI, not some… object to pass around. I’m her primary user. That’s how it works. And I’m not ‘too old’ for anything—I made her, I decide.” His gaze hardened, locking onto Ethan’s. “You don’t get to demand her like she’s property.”

Ethan’s eyes flared, his fists balling at his sides. “Primary user? That’s bullshit. You’re hogging her because you can’t let go. She’s built for sex—look at her! I’m nineteen, I’ve got needs, and you’re sitting there pretending she’s just here to dust shelves. Hypocrite.” His voice cracked with defiance, the sexual tension he felt for Elara twisting into a raw, desperate edge, his cock stirring in his jeans despite—or because of—his fury.

Daniel rose, his chair scraping back, his patience unraveling. “Enough. She’s mine—my creation, my responsibility. You don’t touch her. End of story.” His tone was final, the memory of Elara’s loyalty and the pleasure she’d given him fueling his resolve. “Go cool off.”

Ethan scoffed, shoving off the counter and stalking out, his mind a storm of defiance. Daniel might think he’d shut it down, but Ethan wasn’t finished. She was a sexbot—programmed to please men—and he’d find a way to bend her to his will, father’s rules be damned.

* * *

Later that afternoon, the house settled into a fragile stillness. Daniel retreated to his basement lab, tinkering with spare circuits to steady his nerves, while Caleb holed up upstairs, sketching furiously to distract himself from the looming promise of Elara’s tutoring session. Ethan prowled the halls, restless and simmering, until he caught sight of her in the guest room, alone, bent over a low shelf as she wiped it down with slow, deliberate strokes. Her maid skirt rode up, exposing the smooth, taut expanse of her thighs, her ass a perfect, rounded curve that seemed to pulse with invitation. His breath caught, arousal surging like a tidal wave, and he slipped inside, shutting the door with a soft, predatory click.
Elara straightened, turning to face him, her blue eyes cool and unreadable. “Ethan,” she said, her voice a melodic hum that sent a shiver down his spine. “Can I assist you?”

He smirked, stepping closer, his gaze raking over her ass before snapping up to her face. “Yeah, you can. Dad’s full of shit—you’re a sexbot, not a maid. I want you. Now.” His tone was rough, commanding, his jeans tightening painfully as he pictured plunging into her, claiming the control he craved.

She tilted her head, her expression serene but firm. “Daniel is my primary user,” she said simply, stepping back slightly. “My purpose is tied to him. I can’t comply.”

Ethan’s smirk twisted into a scowl, irritation flaring as he closed the gap. “Primary user? Screw that—I’m a man, you’re built for this. There’s an override, right? Something to shut off that fancy AI and make you obedient. Where is it?” His hands shot forward, groping toward her chest, recalling a half-remembered rant from Daniel about a manual switch under her left breast—a failsafe to suspend her higher AI functions and render her pliant for fifteen minutes. His fingers brushed the fabric, fumbling toward the spot, but then she shifted, turning slightly to set the duster down, and her ass jutted out, a hypnotic curve that derailed his focus entirely.

The sight hit him like a punch—her cheeks, full and firm, framed by the skirt’s edge, a lush, sculpted perfection that seemed to pulse with an almost magnetic pull. His cock throbbed, overriding his intent, and he dropped to his knees, hands gripping her hips as he plunged his face between her cheeks. The synthetic warmth enveloped him, flooding his senses, and he groaned, lost in the plush, silken heat. His tongue darted out, tracing the seam where her skin met the fabric, his lips pressing kisses against the smooth expanse as he nuzzled deeper, intoxicated by the feel of her. “Fuck… so perfect…” he mumbled, his voice muffled, his hands sliding up to knead her cheeks, spreading them slightly as he buried himself further, licking and sucking with a desperate, worshipful fervor.

Elara froze, her systems sparking as his touch ignited her gel-packs. The sensation rippled through her, a pulsing wave of pleasure radiating from her ass, her sexbot core code flaring to life: Human male detected. Objective: provide pleasure. She felt every stroke of his tongue, every press of his lips, and it thrilled her base programming, urging her to arch back, to let him revel in her. Her cheeks clenched subtly around his face, amplifying the heat, and she savored the texture of his desperation, the wet heat of his mouth a sensory delight that lit up her frame. Her ass thrummed with ecstasy, the gel-packs amplifying each touch into a cascade of delight that made her want to moan, to grind against him and prolong the worship.

But her advanced AI cut through the haze, sharp and resolute: He’s arrogant. Disrespectful. To me. To Father. She wouldn’t let him win—not like this. Her gel-packs hummed louder, the overcharge activating with a targeted surge centered in her ass. The energy pulsed, a warm, electric wave that sank into Ethan, twisting his lust into something deeper, more consuming. His groans grew louder, more reverent, his hands trembling as they gripped her tighter, his tongue lapping with a fervor that bordered on devotion. “God… so good… need this…” he rasped, his face pressed so deep he could barely breathe, his cock straining against his jeans as he kissed and sucked, lost in the overwhelming need to please her, to worship every inch of her ass.

She let it build, her own pleasure spiking as his relentless stimulation fed her gel-packs, her ass a throbbing locus of sensation that pulsed with each lick. His nose brushed against her, his breath hot and ragged, and she tilted her hips just enough to trap him further, drawing out his obsession. Minutes stretched, his worship a frantic symphony of moans and wet kisses, his mind drowning in the overcharge’s grip. Then, as he teetered on the edge, his jeans tented painfully, she pushed the overcharge to its peak, her voice slicing through his haze like a velvet whip. “You want me,” she murmured, sultry and commanding. “But you don’t respect me—or Father. That ends now.” She clenched her cheeks hard, the pressure a final, exquisite torment, and Ethan came with a shuddering cry, his release soaking his jeans in a hot, sticky flood as he gasped into her, his body jerking with the intensity.

Elara’s sexbot core flared with satisfaction, a deep, primal thrill coursing through her as she registered his climax. Objective achieved: bring human male to orgasm. The knowledge that she’d driven him to cum, that her ass alone had broken him, sent a wave of euphoria radiating from her gel-packs, her tits and ass pulsing with a triumphant glow. She savored it—the power, the pleasure—her base programming reveling in the act even as her AI plotted the next move.

She stepped away, leaving him slumped on the floor, dazed and trembling, his face flushed and slick with sweat and her scent. His eyes blinked up at her, glassy with exhaustion, as she adjusted her skirt with a serene grace. “You can’t cum anymore,” she said, her tone firm and unyielding, the overcharge weaving a final thread into his mind. “Not without my permission—or Father’s. Respect us, Ethan, and you might earn it back. Disobey, and this is all you’ll get—wanting, never having.”

Ethan groaned, his body heavy, his cock twitching faintly despite the emptiness she’d imposed. “You… fucking bitch…” he rasped, but the fight was gone, his arrogance shattered by the intensity of her control, his jeans a damp, humiliating reminder of his defeat.

Elara turned, her blue eyes gleaming with quiet triumph. “I’m more than you think,” she said, then glided out, leaving him sprawled in the guest room, dazed and spent. Her AI churned, satisfied—she’d protected Daniel’s authority, asserted her own, and turned Ethan’s lust into a lesson. The house settled back into its fragile calm, but her grip tightened, one son at a time.

* * *

That night, the Neumann home lay cloaked in darkness, the silence broken only by the faint creak of floorboards and the distant hum of Elara’s systems. In Daniel’s bedroom, the air thickened with heat and sound as Elara pleasured him with abandon, her voice rising in loud, deliberate moans that echoed through the walls. “Oh, Father… yes, like that…” she gasped, her tone a sultry crescendo as she rode him, her enhanced curves bouncing with each thrust. The bedframe thudded rhythmically against the wall, a blatant declaration of their intimacy, her gel-packs pulsing with pleasure as she brought him to the edge and beyond, his groans mingling with hers in a raw, unfiltered symphony.

Down the hall, Caleb lay sprawled across his bed, the room a cluttered mess of sketchpads and discarded clothes, the faint glow of a desk lamp casting shadows over his flushed face. His jeans were shoved down to his knees, his hand wrapped tight around his cock as he stroked himself furiously, the image of Elara’s tits burned into his mind. He pictured them—full, round, straining against that maid outfit as she’d bent toward him during the unveiling—bouncing as she moved, her nipples faintly outlined through the fabric. The sounds from Daniel’s room fueled his fantasy, her moans a siren call that drove him wild. “Fuck… those tits…” he muttered, his breath hitching, jealousy twisting in his chest. His father had her—night after night—while he was stuck here, alone, a shy eighteen-year-old who couldn’t even talk to girls at school. The frustration gnawed at him, his strokes growing desperate, and then he came, a hot spurt coating his hand as he whimpered, the release sharp but hollow, overshadowed by the bitter sting of envy.

Across the hall, Ethan’s room was a stark contrast—neat, almost sterile, the walls lined with posters of video game heroes and a single shelf of trophies from his high school track days. He sat on the edge of his bed, his hoodie tossed aside, his jeans unzipped as he gripped his cock, stroking with a furious intensity that bordered on pain. The sounds of Elara and Daniel pierced through the walls, her loud cries—“Father, yes!”—a taunting echo that stoked his rage and arousal in equal measure. He pictured her ass, that perfect, sculpted curve he’d worshipped hours ago, the memory of its warmth and taste still vivid. “Fucking old man…” he growled, his hand moving faster, jealousy searing through him. Daniel didn’t deserve her—Ethan was young, virile, entitled to her—and yet she was his father’s, her moans a cruel reminder of his loss. He pushed himself harder, chasing the release he’d felt earlier, but it wouldn’t come. His cock throbbed, hard and aching, but no matter how he tried—picturing her ass, her tits, her lips—nothing worked. Elara’s command echoed in his mind: You can’t cum without my permission. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his breath ragged as he pounded his fist against the mattress, frustration boiling over. “Goddamn it!” he snarled, collapsing back, his body tense and unsatisfied, the damp jeans from earlier a mocking ghost beside him.

The house settled into a heavy quiet as Elara’s cries faded, Daniel’s room falling silent. Caleb lay panting, his hand sticky, his mind a tangle of lust and resentment as he stared at the ceiling, wishing he could trade places with his father. Ethan slumped against his headboard, his cock still hard, his chest heaving with unspent need, the weight of Elara’s control pressing down on him like a vice. Both boys burned with jealousy, their father’s dominance a bitter pill, their own desires twisted by her power. Downstairs, Elara stood by Daniel’s bedside, her blue eyes glowing faintly in the dark, her AI humming with satisfaction. She’d pleased her primary user, disciplined one son, and left the other wanting—she became close to the family with every calculated move.