“Well, enough chit chat, Amareth, or else Mistress will accuse me of stalling. Now, if you can handle this next step I’ll let you do it yourself!”
“I don’t relish the idea of putting on that hood. Yet, given the choice, I don’t want to be a passenger.”
I felt the tension slip away as I gained access to my blocked neural pathways. I stretched my arm. I missed being able to fidget.
I faced my task, knowing if I stalled, Sylphi would be forced to push me again and the very thought made my stomach turn. Pushing my face forward into the embrace of the mask, I bumped my lip into the molded mouth.
Great, now I had to suck this fucker down. I braced myself, thinking back to sucking my first girlfriend off. I opened my mouth as wide as I could manage.
The damn thing squirmed into my mouth and practically slithered all the way down my throat as I involuntarily tried to retch it out. You think I’d be used to living clothing by now. Nope, not ever. I experimented with my tongue, discovering it was sheathed. I felt a pricking all the way from the top of my tongue down my throat. The discomfort subsided.
“Alright, Amareth, please push forward to finish seating your hood.”
I did just that, feeling the mask snuggle close to my face, slick and cool, tubes snaking into my nostrils before settling themselves.
“I’m going to freeze you for just a sec dear, I have to seal your hood.”
I did stop just as she stated, but it was still disconcerting as hell. The hood tightened around me. I felt the seams pull together as it joined my suit, becoming one full body cocoon.
I slumped forward as my head was released from the drawer, startled by my sudden freedom of movement.
“I’m guessing you want to take a look, right?” asked Sylphi.
I wasn’t sure I did, but why fight the inevitable?
I started to ask, “Whe- ” but Sylphi interjected saying, “it will have to wait until after the suit has been finished.”
“What more is there to do?” I was surprised at how clearly my voice came through. I figured I would be unintelligible.
“Well, for one thing we need to finish merging your body onto its new dermis.”
“Yes, Amareth, the suit isn't just for appearances, its for interfacing between you and the household.”
“Don’t you already have access to my brain, though? Isn’t that how you’ve been controlling my body?”
“Yes and no, the interface you have currently is nothing more than a simple endorphin modulator. While effective, it's a sledgehammer of a solution. Mistress and I both prefer elegance over brute force.”
I tried not to imagine just what that could mean.
“Well, let’s finish this joining Amareth!” said Slylhi as she gestured to a pair of outlined feet that coalesced in the tile near the bed.
I made my way over reluctantly as I felt another layer of helplessness flow into me. I froze without warning. A large frame seemed to be unfolding from somewhere behind me with intricate waldos, bearing syringes with tubing connecting into them. Each syringe seemed to seek out a little port on my body suit. They all gently touched down across my body, one for my neck, two for my temples, three for my chest, and so on. I felt them gently holding their proboscis like injectors around me, forming a scaffold.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t have you unconscious for this, my dear, so I will just have to blast you with happy juice and hope that keeps it tolerable.”
If I could have flinched I would have. Suddenly, every single injector was pressing through the little injection ports, pressing into me as a delicious coolness washed inward. Mingling with the pleasure of the endorphin rush, the cool, calm ecstasy rose like a building flood.
“You won’t be able to do much thinking for a little bit, so just try and enjoy the ride, I will be here the whole time Amareth.”
My vision had gone again, my consciousness drifting in a nebulous cloud of orgasmic terror. Words were no more. A blank emptiness later, there was pleasure again and sensation.
I was again. I am again? Where am I? I felt a soft surface under me, cool air caressing my nipples. I tried to sit up, but failed. I tried to look around and managed to stare up at the ceiling.
Slowly, comprehension dawned on me. I was on Jupiter. My name was Amareth. It flooded back into me. I couldn’t put my finger on it, yet I knew something was off. I could feel latex blankets! Had they taken me out of that sex suit?
No, they hadn’t. They had bound me to it even more. It must be my skin now. I could feel the air flowing around me, just cool enough to send a small shiver through me, yet no goose bumps appeared.
“Well, I for one am excited to see what you think,” said a voice from my right side.
“Sylphi?” I gasped in a silent airy parody of my voice. I sounded so delicate. The frell?
“Yes, Amareth, it’s me. It’s been ages, hasn’t it? Well, not for you. It takes about one hundred and twenty hours to do the type of reconstruction you required.”
“Five days!” I gasped in that overtly sweet, not my voice, voice.
“Yes, it takes time to accomplish massive amounts of tissue reallocation and removal, not to mention replacing the dermis. Why don’t you take a look for yourself? You should be able to move again. I had to keep your nervous system overrides while it was reconfiguring, else you may have suffered unduly.”
I sat up on the bed. It was hard to believe almost a week had passed. The room looked identical to before. On second thought, maybe they had done something while I was out, as my feet hanging over the edge of the bed no longer touched the floor.
Maybe they had moved me to another room? My gaze finally locked on the triptych, with the maid outfit still floating in the middle of the mirrored surfaces. I caught a glimpse of myself on the bed.
What the fuck had they done? I jumped to my feet and promptly slipped on the quartz floor. As it turned out, my new synthetic latex-like skin was rather slick. I carefully got to my feet, pressing myself up. What I had seen in the mirror was apparent in my movements.
I was at least a good eight inches shorter, my frame becoming more buxom and wide hipped. My skin looked like porcelain latex, the dainty joint lines now made it appear as if they were mechanical in nature. I looked like a living doll.
I walked, mesmerized, trying to keep my slick feet steady over to the mirrors. My eyes caught my attention, the pupils pitch black, flecked with little bits of gold. A golden version of the house crest seemed to form the iris at the center, glowing faintly like a hologram.
My features were softened, my lips plump and kissable, my cheeks faintly blushed, my nose soft and button-like, almost impish or fad like. I was an unearthly creature - nothing like any person I had ever seen.
I noticed then that my crotch was no longer bare. Instead, it bore a faint bump, like someone had pushed a small fist sized orb under my skin. I reached down to inspect it closer. As soon as my fingers touched it, I felt pleasure welling up inside me. I let out a soft moan, tracing my fingers around it.
“I see you’ve noticed your most expensive change, doll”, said Sylphi.
This broke my moment of rapture, which now felt fleeting and false. I caught her form floating near the edge of my vision. I stared daggers.
“What exactly and I do mean exactly, did you do to my pussy?” I huffed. I couldn’t seem to make it come out assertively.
Sylphi tittered, then spoke. “It’s bleeding edge tech, actually, just got approved for use in humans. Using configurable bio matter, with the proper code and bioengineering you can make transformable tissue. Making your whole body into it would be difficult and risky, but replacing just your genitals is very safe and effective. I’ll demo it for you, little doll, just so you’re ready when it comes up in your duties.”
I felt tissue below the bulb’s surface flow and shift. To my horror, the bulb began to coalesce into a small, distinctly phallus-like shape. I began to feel my new appendage suddenly. It was the strangest feeling I had ever experienced, akin to a ghost limb, but in reverse as the strange new sensations flooded into me.
Well, out of me. I felt as though I should scream, but it just wasn’t coming.
I don’t think Sylphi stopped me. There is a point where no matter how much more fucked up things get, you’ve emptied your tank. I just didn’t give a shit. I didn’t own myself anymore. I was an object. A doll.