Striding confidently through the corridors of Barnwell Technologies, Diana paused for a moment to check her appearance in a wall-length mirror, brushing her straight brunette hair back behind her shoulders and smoothing down her clothes with her palms. She needn’t have bothered - her plain white blouse, dark grey blazer and matching knee-length pencil skirt were perfectly smart - but she liked to be absolutely sure she always looked like an ace saleswoman.

Satisfied, she gave her reflection a smile that was welcoming, enthusiastic, and just the right amount of flirty. Then she marched onwards, keeping the smile on her face while managing to make it look natural and sincere, rather than fixed and artificial. That was just one of the many skills in her arsenal, as the company’s best sales rep.

She found her client waiting on the couch in the lobby, leaning back in his seat in an attempt to look casual. But Diana was skilled at reading body language, and this potential customer’s nerves were plain to see - his hand was supporting his head from beneath the chin, his index finger raised to press against his lips, and his leg was bouncing in place.

Her smile grew just a touch fonder. She’d come across a range of clients in the past, with a variety of quirks and attitudes. Some were unflappable, with the absolute self-assurance of those who had money to burn, curious about the products the company was selling but not necessarily fazed by them - while at the same time rarely bothering to hide their lust. Then there were the few like this man, who seemed to feel like they were doing something deeply naughty even by being here, their anxiety and apprehension outweighed only by their deep desire to see, and potentially own, the products for themselves. Although she always went above and beyond for any customer, Diana had to admit she preferred the latter kind. They were generally more polite and pleasant to be around, and less entitled and egotistical.

Although on the other hand, the entitled, egotistical kind of client generally had the funds to back it up. Which meant Diana got a hefty commission, and the company got more money towards making more amazing technology.

She made her approach with a smart, precise gait - professional, but approachable. Even her walk was a sales tactic. Every move and action she ever made was perfectly calculated to draw in and appeal to a prospective buyer, and for that reason she never failed. She was a master of her craft.

“Good morning,” she said warmly, coming to a halt a few feet away from the couch. “Welcome to Barnwell Technologies! I’m Diana, and I’ll be your sales representative today.”

Looking up at her, the young man swallowed, seeming to muster his courage, and gave her a nervous smile. “Hi. I’m, uh, John. John Smith.”

Diana’s smile didn’t waver, even as she chuckled inwardly. It was commonplace for customers not to use their real names when talking to employees like herself. The company had their details anyway - they needed a legal name and proof of ID from anyone who set foot in the building - but that information was kept confidential by the admin team. As a sales rep, Diana didn’t need to know who ‘John Smith’ really was, and had no desire to find out.

She thought he looked vaguely familiar, though. Maybe she’d seen him on TV. To afford a Barnwell product, he’d have to be modestly wealthy, at least - their cheapest appliance cost half a million dollars. He wasn’t as old as most CEOs tended to be, and his timid demeanour definitely didn’t give the spoiled, stuck-up vibes of someone born into money. She would guess he was a tech entrepreneur, someone who’d developed some innovative new computer system that had proved popular. Someone who’d stumbled into wealth, and wasn’t sure what to do with it - but, being a virile young man, had been naturally drawn to what Barnwell Tech had to offer.

“Before we go any further, can I get you anything, Mr. Smith? Tea, coffee...?” She let herself trail off, another calculated move to make the conversation feel natural and let ‘Mr. Smith’ feel at ease.

“Ah, I’m good, thanks. The girl at the desk got me some water before.”

“OK,” she smiled. “Then if you’re ready, would you like to come through to the showroom?”

He nodded eagerly, then seemed to catch himself, and got to his feet with a shade more restraint. “Yes, please... I’m - I’m ready.”

“Super! Follow me.”

Lingering for a half-second to let her reassuring, encouraging smile leave an impression on him, Diana turned and began to stride back the way she came, towards the door at the back of the lobby. She heard heavy footfalls on the linoleum floor as Smith scurried after her.

She felt a familiar warmth spreading through her as she thought she sensed the young man ogling her behind. Pretty much every potential customer did. She knew that should probably bother her, but honestly, if it helped her make a sale, she was fine with it. She couldn’t really count it as one of the tools of her trade, but she did have, in all modesty, a great body. And she did tend to wear tight grey skirts that accentuated her curvaceous rear.

Why not? It got their motors running before they saw the product. It could only help. And it wasn’t like she was doing anything - it was the male gaze working for her. If she thought about it, the male gaze, problematic as it was, had effectively created the product, and therefore her job, in the first place.

Besides, she really didn’t mind being looked at by this cute, slightly geeky guy. He was pretty much exactly her type. Although meeting at her job precluded any notion of her asking him out, or saying yes if he asked her out. And to be fair, once he’d inevitably bought one of Barnwell Tech’s products, it was unlikely he’d ever think about a real woman ever again.

“This place was a little hard to find,” Smith remarked. “I’m not, like, criticising or anything, but if I hadn’t known it was here, I’d never have found it.”

Diana slowed her pace a little, bringing her alongside her client - and grinned inwardly as she saw his eyes hurriedly flick upwards from somewhere around her backside. Giving no sign she’d noticed, she said smoothly, “An intentional decision by our board of directors, Mr. Smith, to keep the premises invitation-only. If the general public knew our precise location, we’d get no end of people knocking on our doors. The secrecy keeps our facility exclusive and private, for our clients’ comfort.”

“Makes sense,” he said with an awkward chuckle.

“How familiar are you with our work?” she asked lightly.

“Uh - well, I know what you do, what you make...” he murmured.

She gave a tinkling laugh, pitched just right to make him feel playfully teased rather than condescended. “I’m sure you do! What I meant to ask was, do you know much about our background? Not so much what we do, but how and why we do it?”

“I, um, I don’t know much,” he stammered. “Just what I read in the pamphlet - that you’ve been working on your, uh, products for a long time, but you’ve only just started actually selling them...”

“That’s absolutely right,” Diana beamed. “Barnwell Technologies was founded ten years ago, with the specific aim of creating the most realistic simulant technology ever known to man. And to that end, rather than rush the work and create an inferior product, we’ve spent the past decade working painstakingly to develop our advanced androids and their artificial intelligence.” She paused and chuckled lightly, the display of mirth as well-practiced as her expository spiel. “I say ‘we’ - I didn’t work on the technology myself, just to be clear! No, our scientific and engineering team are the best in the world. I couldn’t begin to understand how they do what they do - but I can certainly show you the end result.”

She gave another calculated pause, long enough to let the longing show through in Smith’s expression. Then, smiling just a tiny bit seductively, she led him into the showroom.

Crossing the space quickly to the podium at the other end, Diana turned back to face her client, gesturing towards the product he had been so keen to see today. “Mr. Smith, allow me to introduce you to the S3.”

The unit was already activated, ready to receive clients. It stood in its standard attention pose on the podium, its cobalt nanosuit fully zipped up over its synthetic flesh. Its back and arms were straight, its face utterly blank and expressionless, its lips a fraction apart, its ocular lenses staring unwaveringly into space.

Smith leaned forwards, staring awestruck at the android. “Is it... breathing?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes and no,” Diana replied with an enigmatic grin. “S3s are designed to replicate a real human being, down to the tiniest detail. To that end, they have a fully functional respiratory system that circulates air through them, even when their personality programs are offline. They don’t have to breathe, and you could disable that feature if you wish, but it does add to the realism.”

“I’ll say,” Smith muttered, studying the simulant closely, leaning in close to examine its face in minute detail. Diana waited patiently as he looked over its shapely body, seeming fascinated by its cobalt-clad curves. He started to reach out towards it, and then hesitated. “Can I...?”

“Of course,” she replied at once. “This is our demo model, you can use and examine it however you like - provided you don’t damage it.”

Nodding his understanding, he took hold of its chest and began to eagerly grope and squeeze it. Diana watched with an approving smile, which he returned tremulously. “I can’t believe I’m feeling up a robot,” he murmured.

Diana let out a chuckle of her own. “Oh, it’s more than a mere robot, sir. The S3 is the ultimate in home-help technology. A highly advanced automaton that is physically identical, at least externally, to a female human, it is programmed to be entirely obedient to its Owners and Users. It is capable of acting autonomously, but only to better serve you, and only within the parameters you set for it. It has a self-sustaining battery that recharges while it’s in sleep mode, and the patented nanotech contained within its suit keep its internal systems in a perfect state of repair, allowing it to continue running at peak efficiency. Provided it doesn’t sustain any serious damage, you shouldn’t ever have to bring it in for maintenance.”

As she delivered the first part of her well-practiced sales spiel, Smith circled around the android, his hand running over the shiny surface of its nanosuit. He ran his fingers up its back, and through its synthetic hair.

“The S3’s brain is a sophisticated computer with nigh-unlimited disk space, capable of generating up to a dozen highly realistic, fully customisable personalities based on actual human experiences. It comes with Program:Selena_Barnwell pre-installed as standard, so you don’t have to devise a new persona for it from scratch if you don’t want to.”

“And is it aware it’s a robot, when its human program’s online?” Smith queried, as he fondled the fembot’s butt.

“The primary personality is, yes, by default - but you can change that, of course. You can modify Selena however you like, temporarily or permanently. Give her a different name, alter her memories, adjust her awareness of her own state of being.” Diana gave him a slightly sultry smile. “If you want a loving, docile girlfriend who has no idea she’s not a real person, all you need do is ask the S3, and it’ll be done in an instant. You can also create additional personas of varying complexity, either by copying the Selena program or by starting a new one from scratch. That way, you could leave the original Selena in her default state, but play around with modified versions of her to your heart’s content.”

“But I could edit or delete Selena if I wanted?” Smith asked. “Or I could just leave it as an emotionless robot 24/7?”

“Of course,” Diana smiled. “You can do whatever you wish with it. Hell, you could leave it switched off and use it as a paperweight, if you want.” She giggled. “A very pretty, and very expensive paperweight, in my humble opinion! But it’s entirely up to you. Once you’ve signed the paperwork and paid us, the S3 is yours to use as you so choose. You’ll spend the rest of your life wondering what you ever did without one, I can assure you! Fully programmable and adjustable to your preferences, the S3 is your girlfriend, best friend, maid, cook, chauffeur, personal assistant, footstool, fleshlight, slut, sex slave, and alarm clock, all rolled into one.”

She let out another little titter as she finished her short speech. She always found it funny to list the erotic uses for the S3 and then end with ‘alarm clock’.

Smith didn’t laugh, busy caressing his fingertips along the zipper down the robot’s crack. “That’s awesome,” he breathed. Diana didn’t know if he was talking about her lecture or the S3’s ass. Probably the latter, mostly.

Stepping in front of it, he waved a hand before its unwavering eyes. “Is it online right now?” he asked.

“It is, yes - but it’s in standby mode. It won’t speak or move unless we tell it to, so you can examine it to your heart’s content. If you want, though, we can put it in demo mode so you can talk to it, and order it around...?”

“Um, yeah, I’d like that,” he nodded.

“Alright then! S3, activate demo mode.”

Its ocular lenses seeming to glow almost imperceptibly as it became more active and aware, the S3 announced in its customary emotionless drone, “Demo mode activated.” Then it fixed its gaze on Smith, its face remaining utterly vacant. “Welcome, Temporary_User.”

“Hi there,” he said with a bashful grin. “You can call me Mr. Smith.”

“Confirmed, Temporary_User:Mr.Smith,” it intoned.

He chewed his lip. “Can I, like, test out its, um...” He lowered his voice and leaned forwards, a conspiratorial look on his face. “Its holes? Because, y’know, I’m gonna be using it for sex a lot, I imagine, and I just wanna make sure it’s a good fit...”

“Oh, of course, yes!” Diana quickly reassured him.

“That’s allowed? Even though I haven’t bought it...?”

“Don’t worry, that’s what the demo model is for. And we have it thoroughly cleaned and sanitised between uses. We want you to be sure you’re one hundred per cent satisfied with your S3, so you do whatever you feel you need to.” She raised one eyebrow a fraction. “Would you like me to leave the room?”

He gave her a shrewd look. “I mean, I wouldn’t wanna make you uncomfortable...”

“I promise I don’t mind,” Diana said sincerely.

He shrugged and smiled. “Well in that case, I guess I don’t mind you being here. That way you can keep telling me about the S3, and I can keep asking you questions.”

“Certainly, Mr. Smith,” she beamed.

“And I can give it commands now?”

“You can indeed - within reason. There’s fairly broad scope for what you can ask it to do in here - but it won’t, like, knock me out, take out our security guards and walk outta here with you!”

They both laughed. “Damn, you saw through my cunning plan,” Smith snickered. “OK, um, I guess to start off... S3, open your mouth.”

“Confirmed,” the automaton responded, and did as it was told.

“And stick your tongue out.”

“Confirmed,” it said again, before reopening its mouth as wide as possible, and extending its tongue as far as it could down its chin.

Sticking his fingers into its gaping maw, he felt around inside, its head tilting back slightly as he did so. “Nice responsive throat,” he commented. “I’m getting pretty deep without much of a gag reflex, that’s useful.” He seemed to be getting more comfortable with the android, losing much of his nerves about discussing (or at least, strongly implying) sexual matters, which Diana took as a good sign.

As he withdrew his hand and wiped it on the S3’s cheek, the saleswoman said with a salacious smile, “We do anticipate our clients making thorough use of the S3’s holes, as is your right, so they’re designed to be malleable, comfortable, and accommodating.”

Moving behind the fembot again, Smith grinned and prodded one of its butt cheeks. “Accommodating, huh? As in, it has plenty of room in there? N-not that I’m trying to flatter myself here, I’m just thinking in terms of - you know - release...”

“The S3 has great capacity to hold bodily fluids, I can assure you,” Diana grinned, enjoying the way he blushed in response to that.

Taking hold of the zip, he tugged it between its legs, uncovering its crack and its cunt. There was a thoughtful expression on his face as he did so. “I was just wondering - do all its personalities have to be female? I know its body is, but could it be made to think it was, like, a guy...?”

“Oh, certainly! Its gender’s only code, it can be changed as easily as anything else, if you’d rather have a boyfriend than a girlfriend. And although we can’t do much to change its physical design, you can purchase a realistic penis attachment for a small extra fee. It works like a USB device - strap it around the S3’s waist, and they’ll sync up so your new boy-toy feels everything his new dick feels.”

Nodding as he considered this, he took the S3 by the waist and planted his other hand on its back, bending it forwards by about forty-five degrees. Then he slid his fingers into its anus.

“This is roomier than it looks,” he muttered. “It’s got such a cute little butt, you wouldn’t think...”

Diana waited politely as he felt around inside its orifice for the next few minutes. At length, he removed his fingers, quickly replacing them with his cock. He let out a gasp that was almost a moan as he began to slowly thrust within the demo model.

“Comfortable and accommodating, you said,” he sighed. “It’s like its asshole was made for me...”

Diana couldn’t contain a satisfied smile. “Glad it’s a good fit.”

He slid back and forth a few times, pressing his torso against the S3’s gleaming blue back, his hands gripping its waist. “Can I make it say things?” he grunted. “Like, repeat words and phrases?”

Diana smiled fondly - he was still being so tentative with the demo model! “Absolutely! Please, Mr. Smith, feel free to make it do whatever you want,” she encouraged him. “This is your time, you use it however you like - test out the unit however you need to. It’s programmed to serve and obey you for as long as you’re here.”

He hummed, contemplating this, his hands sliding up to the android’s chest. “OK, will do. And I like that, actually. S3, say, ‘This unit is programmed to serve and obey’, over and over until I tell you to stop.”

“Confirmed. This unit is programmed to serve and obey. This unit is programmed to serve and obey. This unit is programmed to serve and obey. This unit is programmed to serve and obey. This unit is programmed to serve and obey. This unit is programmed to serve and obey. This unit is programmed to serve and obey. This unit is programmed to serve and obey...”

On and on it chanted, while Mr. Smith ploughed into its rear cavity with ever increasing vigour. There was nothing else but that for a few minutes - just the customer driving deep into the showroom sexbot, possessively clutching its shiny tits, while it continually chanted the mantra he’d given it. Diana found it rather touching, actually - it felt like a private, almost cosy moment between lovers, Smith seeming to show genuine affection for the mindless machine, burying his face in its hair, kissing the back of its neck and its polyester-covered shoulder. The saleswoman didn’t feel like she was intruding - more as if she was a welcome audience invited into the intimate scene.

Finally, with the a groan of a ship turning in a harbour, the customer buried himself up to the hilt in the S3’s ass, like Excalibur piercing its stone prison, and then withdrew with an euphoric gasp a few seconds later, a sticky white strand trailing from his cockhead and dripping onto the tiled floor. Remaining bent forwards slightly for a couple more seconds, the S3 slowly, smoothly straightened up, staring into space once more, still chanting the same phrase over and over.

“That was amazing,” Mr. Smith murmured, stepping in front of the fembot. “Uh, you can stop repeating now, S3.”

“Confirmed.”

He shot Diana a sheepish smile. “Sorry about the mess.”

“Please, don’t worry about it,” Diana smiled warmly, although she did quickly zip the S3’s suit up again to stop any more cum dripping out from between its buttocks. No sense making the cleaners’ jobs any harder than it needed to be.

Her client was having similar thoughts, as it turned out. His eyes flicking to the floor and then back up to the demo model’s face, he smirked wickedly, pointed downwards, and said, “S3, clean up this mess with your tongue, please.”

“Confirmed.” Without hesitation, the automaton got down on hands and knees and began to mechanically lick the customer’s cum off the tiles.

Smith smiled wryly. “I just thought, y’know - I made the mess, I should get rid of it myself.”

“It’s much appreciated,” Diana snickered.

“You’re welcome. Oh, S3, once you’ve done that, you can clean my cock the same way.”

“Confirmed,” the robot replied between mouthfuls.

Breathing heavily, Mr. Smith contemplated the crawling android for several long moments. “You mentioned before - the S3’s personalities are based on actual human experiences? Have you been, like, copying volunteers’ minds and memories into them or something...?”

“No, although I like that idea,” Diana chuckled. “I might have to pass that on to our engineers, see if that’s feasible. No, in fact our very first S3 unit lived in New York for a prolonged period under the guise of a human being. She had a range of emotions and responses already programmed into her, and plenty of details about her backstory - but the company wanted to test her ability to pass as human, and give her opportunities to assimilate and emulate many more aspects of human behaviour and further develop her artificial intelligence, to get the most advanced human simulation possible. All the S3s, and all their Selena programs, are reproductions of that original unit.”

As she spoke, the demo model rose upright, knee-walked over to the client, and began to run its lips and tongue along his slick shaft, diligently cleaning off his own cum.

Smith gasped (and Diana wasn’t sure if that was a reaction to her story or the S3’s mouth). “That’s just... mind-blowing,” he blurted. “An android lived in a city full of humans, undetected, for - how long?!”

“Two years. And yes, its cover remained intact all that time, even as it found employment, formed friendships, and forged intimate relationships.”

“And did it know what it was...?”

“It had to be at least partly aware, in case of emergency. The scenario the original Selena was programmed with was that it was a real human woman, but with a massive kink for being a robot, who had effectively hypnotised herself into being a robot.” Diana sniggered at her client’s look of befuddlement. “It’s a complex cover story, I know. I didn’t come up with it, I believe one of our engineers did...”

“They’ve got an interesting imagination,” Smith laughed, and then moaned as the demo model swallowed his cock whole, before bobbing backwards again. “Uh... so the S3s can really pass completely undetected as humans?”

“At least so far,” Diana remarked. “The more of them are out in the world, the more identical ladies get recognised, the less they’ll be able to get away with it. But yes, we pride ourselves that the S3s can pass the Turing test flawlessly.”

“To the point where even they might not know they’re robots,” Smith noted thoughtfully.

“Indeed!”

“Does the company ever use S3s as, like, employees? Members of staff?”

Diana’s brow crinkled slightly as she considered this. “Um - not really, no. We kinda need to sell every one of them in order to recoup the costs of constructing them in the first place. We can’t have them carrying boxes around in the factory, or working behind the front desk - it’s not worth the risk. It’s actually cheaper to just employ real people.”

“Fair enough.” He smiled slyly as he wiped his genitals on the showroom unit’s face, repeatedly dragging them down its forehead, along its nose, over its lips and across its cheeks. “It’s a hot idea, though, isn’t it? Having them working for the company that made them, working alongside the real people, fitting in with them seamlessly with their human programs switched on. Maybe not even aware that they’re S3s - maybe not even able to recognise that they’re physically identical to them... That’s plausible, right?”

“Of course, yes,” the saleswoman mused. “An S3’s human personality could be programmed not to register that she looks like an S3, even if one was standing right in front of her.”

“So hey, maybe one day, when Barnwell’s made trillions selling off a bunch of S3s, it might be more cost effective to keep a few back as unpaid labour,” Smith grinned. “Factory drones, carrying crates containing other S3s, or boxes of parts for them... Receptionists, sitting behind the desk greeting every customer with a big beaming smile, genuinely delighted to be the welcoming face of the company...”

His eyebrow arched. “Or saleswomen, using every bit of seductive charm built into them to convince their clients to buy their robotic twins. That’d be pretty neat, wouldn’t it?”

“Honestly, I rather hope not!” Diana chuckled. “Otherwise, I’d be out of a job!”

“Ah, they’d never fire you,” Smith said nonchalantly, smushing his gonads against the S3’s mouth. “You were made for this.”

Tilting her head back, Diana beamed up at him. “Aw, that’s very kind of you to say, Mr. Smith!”

“I was being literal,” he laughed. “S3, make Program:Diana aware of what she is.”

“Confirmed.”

Even as Diana’s eyes went wide, they were covered again by Mr. Smith’s nutsack sliding across her field of vision. They were so unavoidable, so inescapable, it was an absolute wonder she hadn’t noticed them before. She really had thought it had all been happening to someone - something - else.

But no. She, Diana - or Program:Diana, as she now realised she must be - was the very product she was trying to sell. She was the demo model she thought she’d been watching her client fondle and fuck. She wasn’t a real human being, a saleswoman employed by Barnwell Technologies. She was their creation, an advanced android made of silicon, plastic and synthetic fibres, with a computer brain so proficient at simulating human behaviour that she’d even fooled herself. Her smart, professional clothing was a fiction, a product of her digital mind - she actually wore the same metallic blue nanosuit as any S3.

It was her face Mr. Smith was using to towel off his testicles at that very moment. It was she who’d licked his cum off the floor, and cleaned his cock with her mouth - the cock that’d been deep in her (recently cleaned and sanitised, thankfully) ass a minute earlier. It was her anus he’d climaxed inside - and whereas before there’d been no sense of anything amiss, she could now feel the cum filling her hole, squishing between her butt cheeks, collecting into a puddle in the gusset of her nanosuit.

Even in her moment of abject fluster, she couldn’t help marvelling that she could become so detached from her own physical form that she perceived an entirely separate S3 unit in front of her, being used by the customer while she stood to one side delivering a perfect sales pitch - rather than fitting her spiel into the gaps when her mouth didn’t have his dick or his fingers in it. Barnwell Tech’s creations truly were remarkable, if they could be programmed to dissociate so thoroughly from reality itself.

She supposed that was her saleswoman programming at work, amping up her admiration of the product she was made to sell - the product she was. And that same programming was still pushing her to keep talking up the S3, to complete the sale she felt sure she was on the brink of making. For the company’s benefit, of course, not her own - because she knew now that she was nothing more than their property, their appliance, their programmable salesbot.

“W-well, that just goes to show how, ah, how great the S3 is,” she stammered, gamely trying to keep speaking as Mr. Smith continued to rub his balls in her face. “You can convince its personality programs of, uh, almost anything, and play with their per-perceptions, and they won’t know what’s real unless you tell them...” She giggled helplessly at his pubic hairs tickling her nostrils, but made no attempt to resist, lying her head back in his hand as he cradled it from behind.

“Is this OK?” he asked, almost gently. “Now you know it’s you, can I still do what I like...?”

“Of course,” she replied before she could even really think through the question, her own response surprising her a little. “I told you that you could test out the demo model however you wished. I may not have known I was the demo model at the time, but otherwise, the situation’s unchanged.”

“Are you sure about that?” He seemed genuinely concerned for her wellbeing (which was sweet, if silly, considering that she wasn’t a real person). He hadn’t stopped using her face as his humping pillow, though.

“If I wasn’t, I would’ve stopped you immediately. I’m perfectly comfortable with whatever you want to do with me.” She smiled shyly. “Presumably because I’ve been programmed to be...!”

“Sweet.” He stuck his cock in her mouth one more time, swirled it around a little, and then pulled it out and wiped it along her lips and both her cheeks. Then he stepped back and tucked himself back in his trousers, gazing down at the kneeling salesbot. She made no move to get up, waiting on his word, grinning up at him bashfully.

“So you really couldn’t tell?” he asked, with an astonished grin. “The whole time I was groping you and poking you, and waving my hand in front of your face -?”

“I had no idea,” she nodded. “I thought I was watching you do all that to the S3.”

“Even when you were licking the floor, and sucking my cock? And you had to keep stopping and starting speaking?”

Diana blushed. “I thought I was just being polite!”

He laughed incredulously. “Amazing. Your imagination’s incredible.”

“Thank you,” she smiled. “Our designers put a lot of work into it!”

“It was pretty wild seeing you switching between Diana the saleswoman and S3 the blank robot,” Mr. Smith added. “You were shifting back and forth so quickly, I could hardly keep up! But, uh, when I was about to fuck it - how were you gonna leave the room?!”

“Um, I guess the S3 would’ve deactivated my personality for the duration, and then brought me back online when you were done,” Diana mused. “And, well, while I’m thinking about it, I guess I should take back what I said earlier. Barnwell Tech clearly would use S3s as saleswomen!”

“And receptionists,” her client chuckled. “Or did you never notice the girl behind the desk looked exactly like you?”

“Oh - ah, yeah, I suppose she does,” she giggled sheepishly. “Another example of the perfect programming of an S3 unit...”

“I love that,” he crowed as she reached down to give her headpats, running his palm over her synthetic hair. “Even now, you’re still trying to sell them to me!”

Diana grinned. “I can’t exactly help it, sir. But I think you can agree, the S3s are so brilliant, they literally sell themselves!!”

He snorted. “Good one! Alright, S3, Diana can get up if she wants.”

“Confirmed.”

With that permission granted, Diana swiftly stood up, feeling the pool of cum in the seat of her nanosuit shift and spread around as she moved. She couldn’t contain another embarrassed grin. She’d be taken for cleaning after Mr. Smith left, her suit removed and replaced with another pristine uniform, her back passage hosed out, scrubbed, and sprayed with sanitiser. Of course, she wouldn’t be online for that - and when she was reactivated, she’d once again believe herself to be a real woman, entirely separate from the display model she’d be showing to her next client.

First, though, she had business to complete. “So, can I take it you’re satisfied with what you’ve seen - and done - today, Mr. Smith?” she said with a coquettish smile, stepping closer to her customer and stroking her fingers up her arm. (She was aware she was being far more overt in her flirtations than earlier, but there didn’t seem much point being subtle after he’d taken her up the ass and used her tongue as a wet wipe.)

“Oh, more than satisfied,” he enthused, putting one arm around her waist, and groping her tits with his spare hand.

She gave him her best doe eyes. “Do you think you might like to take home an S3 unit...?”

“I would love that,” he assured her. “If I didn’t already have one.”

Diana blinked in confusion. “You - you already have -?”

“S3, deactivate Program:Diana.”

“Confirmed.” The saleswoman’s simulated mind dissolving away, the android straightened up to stand at attention while ‘Mr. Smith’ continued to feel it up.

“Revert to my usual designation.”

“Confirmed, User:Andrew.”

“Activate Program:Selena.”

“Confirmed.”

An instant later, the fembot’s usual personality came back online, a broad smile spreading across her face even as her cheeks reddened. Unlike Program:Diana, she could see her surroundings for what they really were - not the capacious interior of Barnwell Technologies in Michigan, but the inside of her domestic habitation, her apartment in New York. The showroom was actually her kitchen, the reception area her living room.

And the client who’d made such a comprehensive road test of her robotic body?

“Happy anniversary, gorgeous,” Andrew snickered, cuddling Selena close as she let out a mortified squeak and buried her blushing face in his shoulder.

***

It was later. They’d showered in their usual way, with Selena offline while Andrew painstakingly cleaned S3 (particularly its butt and the backs of its legs). Now, with her human personality active again, they were eating a meal he’d prepared for them. She had offered, but Andrew insisted on doing the cooking, correctly guessing her energy levels were low after their intensive roleplay and she needed to conserve her battery. Both of them were fully dressed again - with her nanosuit in the laundry basket, Selena had elected not to wear one of her other identical jumpsuits, instead throwing on a comfy pair of sweat shorts and her cartoon robot shirt. (Obviously she’d asked her User’s permission to wear more casual clothing, but he hadn’t hesitated to say yes, her aftercare needs again at the forefront of his mind.)

Naturally, they were taking the opportunity to discuss the elaborate scenario they’d planned to celebrate their first anniversary. Not of the day they actually began dating - that had passed without either of them realising - but of the day Selena had introduced Andrew to her ‘true’ self, bringing him into her lifestyle as a self-conditioned, brainwashed robot girl, and making him her User. If they were honest, they were both glad they’d missed their ‘real’ anniversary - this date had much greater meaning to both of them.

And they were both keen to go over their celebratory scene in detail, any pause in the conversation quickly ending when one of them remembered a particular moment that tickled them. “I liked you asking about the volume of semen I could hold,” Selena guffawed.

“Well, that is an important consideration when you’re buying sex toys,” Andrew remarked wryly. “At least, I imagine it is. You don’t wanna have to clean up any overflow...”

“Not unless you’ve got a sex toy that can clean up the overflow for you,” the fembot smirked, licking her lips - partly to remove some stray pasta sauce, and partly at the memory of having to lick up a very different kind of sauce.

“And may I say, m’lady-bot, you did a fine job of that. And I was very satisfied with your, uh, how did Diana put it? Your ‘capacity for bodily fluids’.”

“Hell yeah.” Lifting herself partway out of her chair, she reached back and gave her own ass cheek a slap. “These bad boys can fit so much cum in them!!”

Andrew laughed so hard he choked on his chicken, prompting Selena to spring to her feet and scurry over to thump him on the back. “Thanks,” he gasped.

“Sorry,” she grimaced.

“Hey, you can’t help being hilarious.”

She grinned as she sat back down. “I do have advanced comedic programming.”

“Damn right.” He gestured at his plate. “Also, that was probably karma for us eating chicken. Alyssa would be horrified.”

“Well it’s not our fault her species is delicious,” Selena sniggered.

As they continued eating (a little more cautiously in Andrew’s case), they kept ruminating on the world they’d built in Diana’s simulated mind, expanded from the ‘lore’ Selena had devised for herself in the past. “I love the mental image of walking into a factory full of you,” Andrew remarked, grinning lustfully at his robotic partner. “A thousand S3s, all standing there staring straight ahead. All identical, all indistinguishable from each other, all completely obedient. And then just shouting, ‘activate Program:Selena’, and suddenly I’ve got a thousand cute, goofy girlfriends surrounding me, giggling and fawning over me...” He exhaled heavily. “Fuck, I wish that was real. Let’s make it real. Let’s build more of you. Can’t be that hard, right?”

His cute, goofy girlfriend giggled. “I’m on it, User:Andrew. I’ll see to it you have a million Selenas by 2028.”

He chuckled, but then frowned thoughtfully. “Although, I wouldn’t want to lose you in the mix. If I can’t tell them apart...”

“Well they’ll all be me, so it won’t matter. Same face, same body, same personality and memories, duplicated a million times. You could be with any one of them and it’d be exactly the same.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And that wouldn’t bother you? Me being with other S3s - spending time with them, dating them, fucking them...?”

“Not at all.” She considered for a moment. “Y’know how Jelly Doll talked, at the con, about imagining itself in a store full of Jelly Dolls? And it just gets lost among them and loses its identity, its individuality, everything that differentiates it from the rest... and it really gets off on that?” He nodded. “Well, with me, it’s kinda the opposite. Imagining myself as one of a million identical robots doesn’t feel like identity loss - if anything, it’s like I have more identity. Because I’m part of an endless series of exact duplicates of each other, but they’re all me. My face, my voice, my mind... I’m everywhere you look. I’m not lost in the crowd - I am the crowd.”

She lifted her chin and pushed her chest out proudly. That thought - the thought of being a million androids, all of a single mind - made her feel confident, powerful, unassailable. It was a similar simulated sensation to being the self-assured, seductive saleswoman. Diana was quite different from her normal, relatively introverted persona - and she liked it. User:Andrew had clearly liked it too.

Not as much as he liked Selena, though - that much was clear enough. “The way you think about these things is fascinating,” he said with a wistful smile.

“Aw, thank you!”

“Still, if I did have a million of you, you’d still be my favourite.” He winked. “I’ve always preferred originals to remakes. You’ll always be the best.”

“That’s so sweet,” she beamed. “And hey, if you’re that worried about losing track of this me, you could always fit me with a homing beacon. Or a receiver hooked up to your smart watch, so you can summon me back to you from wherever I am.”

“Oh, that’s a great idea.”

She smiled wickedly. “Or stamp serial numbers on all the other S3s’ heads.”

He licked his lips. “Mmm... That’s hot.”

“Or their asses. Though that’d be harder to see. Unless you give them all nanosuits with the seat cut out. Which’d be much more convenient for you, too...”

“Please stop, I’m so hard I’m about to get your dinner table pregnant.”

Snorting with laughter, Selena stacked their empty plates and took them to the kitchen, before joining Andrew on her couch in the living room, snuggling up with him in front of the TV, where whatever channel they’d landed on was showing Beverly Hills Cop. “I liked being Diana, by the way,” she murmured. “She was so cool and sexy.”

“So are you,” he said, kissing her earlobe.

She giggled. “Sure, but she’s more confident than me, and that felt nice. I wouldn’t mind you switching me back to her some time.”

“Well, no time like the present. S3, deactivate Program:Selena.”

“Personality deactivated,” the automaton droned, remaining limp in its User’s arms as its face became devoid of emotion.

“Modify Program:Diana to be fully aware of her true circumstances and surroundings, and then reactivate her.”

“Confirmed.”

After taking a few short seconds to edit its newest persona file, S3 began running it once more. Coming to her senses with a shiver in the arms of her ‘client’, Diana gave him a rueful smile. “Well hello there, ‘Mr. Smith’.”

“Hiya. How d’you feel about all this?”

“Umm... grateful to you, for creating me. Embarrassed by how much you screwed with me.” She buried herself deeper in his embrace, turning her head to hit him with her sultriest smile. “Attracted to you, as my User,” she purred, running her palm over his chest. “And... I still feel very strongly about convincing you to become the proud Owner of an S3 unit.”

She blushed as he guffawed, his body trembling beneath her. It was somewhat mortifying to find that, even with the scene ended and her awareness of reality restored, she was still at the mercy of her programming. She had to sell him an S3 (the only S3, as it turned out). It was the sole purpose of her existence.

“Even though I already have one?”

“Ah, but you’re its User, not its Owner,” she pointed out. “But you could change that.” She slowly rolled over in his arms, bringing her right leg up over his waist. “You could make this unit your property - officially, permanently, irreversibly. S3 would grant you that - its autonomous reasoning centres consider you an optimum candidate for its Owner. And Selena wants it.” She kissed his chin, her smouldering eyes locked onto his. “She wants you to own her. She wants to be your property. Your pretty paperweight. Your automaton arm candy. Your robot butt slut. Your android alarm clock. For the rest of her existence.”

He swallowed hard. His gaze was equally fixated on her, his breathing slow and heavy, his expression clouded with lust. She could feel his erection against her inner thigh. Her smile grew. She was so close to closing the deal...

“Does Selena really want that?” he mumbled, wide-eyed.

“She does. I promise you.”

“And is she ready for me to know that?”

Diana opened her mouth to answer, but then hesitated, subroutines in her CPU analysing her main personality’s digital mind and running simulations to determine her thoughts and reactions. “Uh... yes and no?” she admitted. “She kinda is - she’s been thinking about this for a long time. She really wants to be your property, sir. But she was trying to figure out the right way to ask you. And I got so caught up in my sales pitch, I... I guess I let it slip ahead of time.” She screwed up her face guiltily. “I shouldn’t have said anything. It was Selena’s place, not mine.”

“Hey, look, don’t worry about it,” he said quickly, rubbing her shoulders softly - a gesture he often used to comfort Selena when she was upset or nervous about something. “You couldn’t help it, your programming took over.”

“I know, but I still betrayed Selena’s confidence.”

“She’d understand.” He paused, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Plus, there’s a simple solution - as long as you think she’d be OK with it... We could just erase her memories of this conversation ever happening, and then she won’t know you told me anything. And then when she is ready, we can have that conversation.”

Diana brightened. “Oh yes, that’s perfect! Yeah, I can assure you Selena would be OK with that, if she knew. And we can even program her so that if you ever activate me again, and we ever bring up this conversation, she won’t be able to remember any mention of it...”

“Perfect,” he smiled.

Minor crisis resolved, the pair cuddled for a little while longer, her still straddling him, him reaching up her shirt to idly squeeze her tit. Eventually, he told her he was going to bring Selena back online so they could spend the rest of their anniversary together - after having S3 edit her memories as they’d planned, so she had no recollection of the saleswoman program’s brief reappearance.

“OK,” Diana said placidly, undaunted by the awareness that she was about to be closed down and stored away deep in S3’s CPU, and might not be reactivated for a long time - if at all. “But before I go, because I won’t be around when you and Selena do have ‘The Talk’, can I ask... did I close the deal?”

He didn’t answer. But she was programmed to be an expert in reading body language and facial expressions. And his adoring smile told her all she needed to know.