“Personality deactivated.”

Alyssa inhaled sharply as they watched the light of human consciousness fade from their fembot friend’s eyes, its voice dull and emotionless. It shifted into a more neutral stance, fixing its glassy gaze on the nearest person.

“User identified,” it intoned. “Service mode activated. Welcome, User:Milo.”

“Hey, cutie,” Milo said fondly. “Can you tell me what you are, what you’re designed for?”

“This unit is a sophisticated artificial intelligence posing as a human,” it replied in a low, almost growling voice. “This unit is designed to emulate human behaviour.”

“I’m assuming that was all spot on?” AJ heard Richard say behind them.

“Affirmative,” replied S3, who was standing next to him.

Alyssa kept their gaze on the android in front of them, as Milo asked it, “What’s your designation?”

“This unit is designated H41-L33.”

“Amazing,” Sabrina sighed. “That worked so well!”

“Did you ever doubt it?” Milo beamed, turning away from his partner. “Hailee’s such a good subject, and its memory’s so strong, I expected a flawless conversion. Besides, it was really up for this. This was actually its idea.”

Sabby scurried forwards and started to play with her robotised friend, poking and pinching its nude body, tweaking and twisting its nipples. Under normal circumstances, Alyssa knew Hailee would be writhing and moaning with pleasure, its eyelids fluttering as the pain sent its brain into a compliant daze. But H41 stayed still and silent, staring intently ahead, completely unbothered by the snickering sex kitten torturing its tits.

Apparently, after seeing S3 refresh its conditioning earlier that day, Hailee was eager to experience what it was like to be a robot for itself. It persuaded the pleasure unit to put it through its programming sequence, letting its headphones and VR glasses pump the mesmerising visuals and binaural beats into its brain. Now it was H41-L33, transformed from an animated rubber fucktoy to a synthetic, silicon sexbot.

Alyssa grinned bashfully as they realised they were masturbating yet again. They’d rarely stopped all week. In their defence, their pussy had been very accessible, given that they were almost always naked (except when wearing their maid uniform, which came with conditioning to stop their hands from wandering anywhere too exciting).

Also, their gorgeous friend had just been converted into a fembot. They defied anyone (at least, anyone as naked and hypersexual as they were) not to jill off to that.

Admittedly, Sabrina was equally naked and hypersexual, and she wasn’t touching herself - but only because she was touching H41 instead, her hands now reaching down between its legs to pinch its pussy lips. “This is OK, isn’t it, H41?” she purred. “I’m well within my rights to do this, aren’t I?”

“Affirmative. This unit’s vagina is available for your use.”

She let out a high-pitched laugh. “Good drone!” she cried, giving it a hearty slap on the cunt. It did not react at all, but Alyssa shuddered. They had no interest in even trying to endure the kind of pain that was inflicted upon Hailee on almost a daily basis, but the way it revelled in it was undeniably arousing.

And it was equally hot how little H41 cared. How little attention it paid. How it simply didn’t matter to this woman-shaped device what was done to it, or what it was told to do. It was a machine now. Machines didn’t have cares or concerns. They just did whatever they were told. Alyssa fingered themselves harder to the thought of that - how it would feel to think so little about what they were doing, they wouldn’t even get turned on by it. H41 could be being spitroasted, and it’d be as interested in what was happening as it was in watching paint dry. Why was that so hot...?

Of course, they weren’t just basing those assumptions on the new robot’s current lack of emotion. They’d seen plenty of proof of S3’s detached demeanour that week. Thus far, H41 seemed to have a similar mindset to the earlier device.

Sabrina pivoted to face the others, her blonde bob and buxom breasts bouncing as she spun. “We have got to get one of these,” she giggled, squeezing H41’s ass.

Following her gaze, Alyssa glanced behind them at Phil, who gave her a look of puzzlement. “But we already have one,” he replied, gesturing back in her direction.

Sabby raised an eyebrow. “Well, I mean, we can borrow it, but it’s not technically ours. We’d have to keep returning it to Miles, obviously...”

“I didn’t mean Hailee,” Phil smirked. “I meant you.”

She blinked. “What? I - I’m not a robot!” she spluttered, smirking incredulously.

“Sure about that, babe?” he teased.

“Yeah, I think I would know,” she said with absolute conviction, her hands on her hips, frowning across the room at her partner/Owner as if he’d gone insane.

“S48-8Y, deactivate your personality.”

“Personality deactivated.”

Alyssa actually took a step back in sheer surprise, as the thing they’d thought was Sabrina stood to attention, its arms straightening rigidly at its sides, its feet pressing together, its frowning face relaxing. It continued to stare at Phil, but its gaze turned dreamy and distant.

“User identified,” S48-8Y pronounced. “Service mode activated. Welcome, User:Phil.”

The remaining submissives - of which, only Richard’s were left - gaped at the newly-revealed robot. She didn’t even know... Alyssa suppressed a moan, edging to the empty expression on S48’s face.

“So she’s a robot, too?” Jelly Doll blurted. “When the hell did that happen?!”

That was a good question. Alyssa didn’t know when the doms could’ve dronified Sabrina - but in fairness, they couldn’t remember much about that day. Or the week, for that matter. They had vague recollections of some of the scenes they’d done, but details and specifics escaped them. That was OK. Danielle didn’t mind not knowing. Forgetting made her wet. The same went for AJ, but she would’ve probably bratted about it anyway - except she’d sunk so deep into subspace that she couldn’t really find it in her to muster much sass. As such, the lines had really blurred between her and her secondary persona.

There was usually quite a distinction between Dani and AJ, but after days of domination by their Master and their hypnokinky friends, their thoughts had aligned closely enough to make them almost indistinguishable, even to themselves. They’d reached a happy, placid, subby state of mind where they weren’t sure which of them was which from one moment to the next, and didn’t care to figure it out. Hence their use of ‘they/them’ pronouns, and thinking of themselves collectively as Alyssa, rather than the separate entities AJ and Danielle. And the collective of Alyssa was really turned on right now, riding the residual arousal from their last edge, their gaze flitting from one mindless machine to another.

“Wh-what about Jelly Doll?” their partner said in a slightly quavering voice. “Is... is Jelly Doll a robot, or -?”

Alyssa’s eyes widened. Of course - if Sabby hadn’t had any idea what she really was, then any one of them could also be an android. And if all the other guys had made their subs into sexbots, they didn’t think Richard would pass up the same chance.

As Jelly glanced uncertainly back and forth between its partners and its other lovers, they shot it a sheepish smile. Then, feeling a little flicker of AJ-flavoured defiance and mischief, they slowly backed away towards the French windows, hoping to make a quiet escape while everyone’s attention was on their toy girlfriend.

But they couldn’t resist the impulse to give themselves away. “Running away now, byeee,” they stage-whispered as they sidled up to the open glass doors.

“Back over here, Alyssa,” Richard called over his shoulder, sounding amused.

“Yes, Master,” they giggled ruefully, scuttling back to his side, feeling ever more small and weak and vulnerable as he put a possessive arm around them. They hadn’t stopped touching themselves throughout their botched escape attempt.

“You don’t wanna miss this,” their Master muttered in their ear, kissing their thick auburn mane, before looking back at their other partner. “What d’you think, Jelly? Do you feel like a robot...?”

“Well, it never feels like a person,” it snickered. “Being a robot isn’t that much more of a leap. Besides, logically, it probably is a robot, since almost everyone else is.” It looked thoughtful for a moment, which was an unusual look for the sex doll even when it could think. “The names... They’re all their real names but with numbers and hyphens added in, right? ‘A’ is ‘4’, ‘I’ or ‘L’ become ‘1’, and so on?”

Andrew nodded. “Same system as S3.”

“So what would Jelly be? J3-11Y?”

“Well worked out,” Richard grinned. “I’ve actually been coming up with robot names for people ever since I first spoke to S3. Mine’s boring - R1CH-4RD. Barely any letters you can really change in there, not worth doing...”

“What’s ours?” his plural plaything asked. “Like, 4LY-whatever...? Or did you use AJ, instead of Alyssa? O-or did you get Danielle’s name in there as well, somehow...?”

“Yeah, I struggled to figure that one out, to be fair,” he admitted. “In the end I took a completely different approach with you.” Giving their butt an affectionate squeeze, he stepped away and said, “Both of you, deactivate your personalities.”

Alyssa had time to blink in surprise, before their partly-merged minds flickered and faded away. The mindless machine that remained announced, “Personalities deactivated,” its posture straightening and its hand falling away from its labia at last. Its fellow pleasure unit spoke at the same time, saying the same phrase but in the singular. Then they both locked their eyes onto their owner, chorusing, “User identified. Service mode activated. Welcome, User:Richard.”

It felt different from normal hypnotic blankness. Alyssa had been blank many times, staring into space with hooded eyes and a slack, salivating mouth. But the robot that had thought of itself as Alyssa could feel activity continuing in its computerised brain - except the information flowing through it was data, composed of code, strings of ones and zeroes being transferred from one part of its CPU to another, rather than human thoughts as it had believed. There was no emotional depth to any of it - it was all cold facts, analysing its environment and storing away the details to be accessed later. It didn’t need to think or feel anything about it. It didn’t need to move, or speak. Not until User:Richard asked it.

There were a few files in its system that had been locked for Program:Alyssa and Program:Danielle, which their true robot self could now access. Among them were their memories of agreeing to be converted, and of putting on S3-L3N4’s headphones and visor and submitting to its programming sequence. But the android had no need to review these recordings at present, and no interest in them. So it left them untouched.

Giving a goofy little laugh - as he often did when overcome with delight at the hypnotic power he had over his girlfriends - Richard asked the device that had believed itself to be Jelly Doll, “What is your designation?”

“This unit is designated J3-11Y,” it replied.

He turned back to his other slavebot. “And what’s yours?” he asked, with a crooked grin.

It extended its right arm in front of it, displaying the string of numbers and letters written there with a black marker pen, which Program:Alyssa hadn’t been able to see. “This unit is designated Unit C-018-10-AJ-702,” it read.

His smile widened. “Good girl. Good pleasure unit.”

702’s artificial pussy automatically produced some lubricant in response to its User’s praise, but its only external reaction was to lower its arm back to its side.

“All of you, stand side by side up against the wall, facing us,” Andrew ordered. “S3 in the middle.”

“Confirmed,” the five fembots droned as one.

They took up position without further delay. Their Users wandered back and forth before them, admiring them with obvious pride and lust, often wandering forwards to prod and tickle and grope the girl-shaped machines, waving their hands in front of their eyes. None of them reacted in the slightest, continuing to stare unwaveringly forwards and await further instructions.

Needless to say, the doms took plenty of photos and videos of the row of robots, which they’d get to see later. Although all of them were as impassive as one would expect from an android, their expressions were very subtly different, each possessing their own unique flavour of mindlessness. S3 was the only one that looked truly devoid of emotion, naturally, having been a robot for the longest by far. S48-8Y’s resting expression was slightly seductive, its plump lips shaped into a small smirk. Its voice wasn’t as toneless as S3’s, either - it was more of a low, sultry purr. H41-L33’s head was tilted forwards a fraction, its stare intense, more focused than ever without the hindrance of human thought. J3-11Y’s eyes were wide, its mouth slightly agape, giving it an awestruck, reverent look - and its voice was the most emotive of them all, having the same bouncing, modulating tone as Siri. And 702 looked almost surly, glowering ahead with smouldering eyes, as if sulking about the loss of its lively personalities, its voice a lower monotone than the others.

“Each of you, masturbate the fembots next to you,” Milo commanded.

“Confirmed.”

Access to each other’s genitalia was easy enough - all of them were naked except for S3, who wore its nanosuit and its penis attachment. S48 and H41 coiled their fingers around the shaft, working together to jerk it off, and it reciprocated by burying its hands between their legs.

Being on each end of the line, 702 and J3 only got one other automaton pleasuring each of them. Neither of them were bothered by this - they simply followed orders, reaching down to rub the next robot in the row. With S48’s entrance being probed by S3’s deft fingers, 702 focused on stimulating its clitoral sensor. S48’s arm slid behind 702, reaching under its butt to stroke its slit from beneath.

All of them continued to stare into space. All of them kept their detached, disinterested expressions, registering their bodies’ building arousal but not caring about it at all. All of them spoke when prompted by their Users, repeating the phrases they were told to say in perfect sync, their dispassionate voices carrying over the slick wet sounds from between their legs.

“We are your pleasure units. We are programmed to serve and obey. We are designed for pleasure. We are built for sex. We are your robot slaves. We are your sex machines. We are your fembot fucktoys. All of our orifices are available for your use.”

Even when their personalities were briefly reactivated, they still couldn’t stop, their Users telling them to remain in place and keep touching each other. 702 suddenly felt Program:Sabrina squirming under its stroking hand, softly squeaking, “Fuck,” her own dutiful fingers faltering for the first time in however many minutes it had been, but still compulsively caressing between 702’s legs. Mere moments later, though, S48 was again announcing, “Personality deactivated.”

Soon, it was 702’s turn. “Activate Program:Alyssa,” Richard told it.

“Confirmed.” And then AJ was back in the room, whimpering in surprise and arousal, clutching at her tits with her spare hand. “Holy shit,” she gasped, “th-this is... this is awesome... Unngh,” she moaned as S48’s fingers curled inside her. “R-robot circlejerk, nice...”

Richard barked with laughter, reaching out to brush some strands of hair out of her face. “Having fun there, Program:Alyssa?”

She trembled at the name, the realisation that she was nothing more than an android’s personality program hitting home for the first time, driving her right to the brink. “Can I cum?” she pleaded, giving him her best doe eyes. “Do, do I get to - am I allowed to -?”

“702 might,” he grinned sadistically. “But you won’t be around to enjoy it.”

“Aww,” she whined, which was the last thing she got to say before her User switched off her simulated personality once more.

The robots’ Users kept turning their personas on and off over the next few minutes, as the ‘robot circlejerk’ continued. But none of their human programs were online when they finally were granted release. They stood side by side, their hands still working mechanically between each other’s legs, hardly noticing their orgasms as they had them.

At User:Richard’s command, Unit C-018-10-AJ-702 and J3-11Y disentangled themselves from their fellow fuckbots and went to stand at either end of the sofa, arching over the armrests and planting their palms in the cushions. H41-L33 and S48-8Y were sent to stand before each of the two armchairs, and were also made to bend forwards. The four fembots remained at right angles, their legs spread apart, presenting their posteriors and their pussies to whoever happened to stand behind them.

The dominants took up their own positions, each behind their own pleasure units, and started making use of them. 702 had no reason to be bothered by Richard using J3 rather than itself. It would simply remain in its bowed pose, waiting patiently to be of use.

It didn’t have to wait long. On the edge of its visual feed, it saw Andrew leading S3-L3N4 in its direction. Moments later, it felt the pre-existing pleasure unit’s prosthetic phallus push between its legs, beginning to plough into its pussy, even as Andrew positioned himself directly behind it and opened the zip between its legs the rest of the way, exposing its butt.

As the minutes passed, 702 held its pose perfectly, staring vacantly at the cushion below, moving only as much as it was moved by S3. The blue-suited sexbot was sandwiched between its fellow fembot and its User, rhythmically thrusting backwards and forwards, burying its cock inside 702 one second and swallowing Andrew’s shaft with its anus the next.

For a while, the only sounds in the room were the moans of the men as they made use of their sex machines. Then suddenly Richard spoke, sliding in and out of J3 even as he said, “Fembots, disable your personality programs’ voices and independent movement, and then reactivate them.”

Alyssa breathed in sharply as she suddenly realised what was happening to her. That was about as much as she could react. She couldn’t move or speak. She couldn’t cry out. She couldn’t straighten up. She was trapped inside her newly-robotised body, bent over the couch, being compulsively fucked from behind by Selena. All she could do was gasp and pant softly, her ocular circuits rolling in her silicon skull, already on the brink of orgasm from her sheer helplessness.

She silently prayed she’d get to cum, and that she’d be allowed to stay online for it this time. But somehow, she doubted it.