Chapter 7

by Fractured Puppet

Tags: #D/s #dom:female #drones #f/f #pov:bottom #scifi #AI #dronification #latex #robots #sub:female #transformation #transgender_characters #wholesome

There’s a strange sensation as the fluids are absorbed back into the medium, and as the sculpting tools slide back and forth across your hips and waist you can feel yourself melting into your new form.

Shrinking. Shaping. Repurposing.

“Good girl,” Ada purrs, and you feel yourself get wet for the first time, producing lubricant that drips down your folds before she takes control again and commands your body to seal itself up for now. 

“I promise - there will be time for that later.”

You nod, or try to, at least. Your Controller is absolutely right. Finish the conversion, and then you can thoroughly test your systems.

The progress graphic is passing your stomach, and before you know it your torso has been completely encased.
Your belly is carefully shaped next, but you feel it more than you see it as the excess is pushed around your neck and down your shoulders.

Your new breasts are impossibly sensitive, even in their rough unfinished state, and every pass is leading you back towards the edge.

You can feel your connection to your Controller. How much she loves seeing a new unit be formed. How she’s enjoying toying with you throughout the process.

You belong to her, and it is wonderful.

“You belong,” she replies to your unspoken thought, “to all of us. And we will belong to you. We belong to each other.”

You can hear the smile in her voice.

“But right now, you do belong to me, Unit.”

You can just move your neck enough to see the rough, unfinished surface of your body. The only exposed skin below your neck are your hands, and it isn’t long before those, too, are remade.

You expected the arms to sweep up to your neck, but instead they swing away.

“Nothing is wrong,” Ada answers your unspoken confusion. “You are being reoriented for the final stages.”

Your body moves without your input, scooting up as the table folds itself into a chair, while the screen and tools reposition accordingly.
When they are finished you are sitting up with perfect posture, hands resting at your sides, your eyes locked on the screen.

“Do not be worried. Do not be afraid. You are safe. You Belong.”

Your eyelids feel heavy as you slowly blink a few times. You could almost sleep, but you know your Controller requires you to stay online to ensure the process will finish successfully.

The high pitched buzz of electric clippers signals the beginning of the end of the process, and your old life.

The vacuum tube attached to the razor collects your hair as it shaves you bald, the only remnant the hair beneath your headset.

You can hear the conversion arms sliding in as it withdraws, and the pleasant beeps as they lock onto the newly exposed alignment marks on your skull.

They hesitate just long enough for you to wonder what they’re waiting on, and the answer comes with another injection.

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