It took ten minutes to get dressed, take a bathroom break, and then check a map. Then we were out of the apartment and walking through the nearby park.

Plenty of snow had already accumulated along the paths, and the late day light painted it deep blue and vibrant orange. I was dressed in a coat, but Jen just had a sweater over a t-shirt, and wasn't even in long pants. Apparently she and I had different definitions of 'warm clothes'.

I wasn't planning on criticizing her choice of outerwear: Jen was a big girl, and she could decide what she needed to wear. (And if she wanted to show off her thighs to me, I wouldn't complain.) But after a few minutes, I noticed her looking around, pulling up the collar of her sweater, and shivering.

I frowned at her. “Do you need something warmer?”

She looked down derisively. “What? No.”

“No what?” I let my voice lilt a little.

She gulped. “C'mon,” she hissed, looking around. “We're in public.” I looked where she was looking, and saw that though the park was quiet, it wasn't empty. There were other people walking—couples, families, a few singletons.

Jen shivered and tugged her collar up again, seemingly just to make sure it hadn't slipped down, and I made the connection—this was about her collar.

“Don't want anyone to see, slut?” I whispered.

She shivered again. I loved being able to make her do that, without even a tap on my phone. “Sir,” she replied, her gravelly voice as low as possible, “not here, please....”

I looked around, then took her arm. “Then let's get somewhere more private.”

“Yes, sir.”

I led her off the shoveled path, and our boots crunched new prints into the untouched deep snow. We walked into a sort of copse of bushes, ones which had lost all their leaves to winter and didn't have a dusting of snow. Within a minute, we were surrounded by brown sticks; no one else was visible, or even audible.

“Now, that's nice and private,” I said. “So what was it you didn't want anyone to see, slut?”

She glanced around, then—blushing so hard you'd expect the snow around her to melt—tugged the collar of her sweatshirt down. There, still around her neck, was the ballgag I'd turned into a collar. She still kept looking around, as if someone might follow our footsteps in at any moment.

“Good girl,” I said, and sidled closer. “And how does it feel to wear it?”

“It feels....” Jen didn't seem like the kind of person who'd spent a lot of time talking about her feelings, so I wasn't surprised when she hesitated for several seconds. “Kinda fuckin' great? Like... someone else is in charge, so I don't have to worry.”

“That's right.” I reached up and slipped a finger through the collar, tugging her a little closer. “Someone else is in charge. Now, show me your panties.”

She looked down in surprise, but then said, “Yes, sir,” and slid her thumbs down her hips to tug her shorts down. For good measure, she lifted her sweatshirt and shirt, too, to expose her whole lower torso.

“Good girl.” I laid a hand on her lower abdomen, fingers just above the newly exposed fabric, and she squirmed a little at the contact but otherwise stayed still. The panties in question weren't the same ones she'd worn in the morning, but they were just as plain and only a slightly different shade of brown.

“Do you own any nice underwear, Jen?” I said. I let my hand slip a little lower, my fingers just barely getting under her panties.

“Never looked for any, s-sir,” she said. “I guess I thought about it, but—didn't feel comfortable. Looking in a girly store.”

“I don't see why not,” I teased, letting my fingers slide down. “A good girl like you?”

Her hands, still holding up her shirt, balled into fists as she tried not to shiver. “Thank you, sir.”

“Don't thank me yet.” For a few seconds longer, I let my fingers tease at her skin, but then I pulled away. As titillating as it was that anyone could walk over and see this... well, anyone could walk over and see this. “Pull yourself together and come with me. I've got something to show you.”

She hastily tugged her pants and sweater over both panties and collar. “Yes, sir?”

Undoubtedly, it was nice to walk through the park with my... girlfriend? Was that what Jen was right now? However, the real reason we were going through the park was because it was the fastest way to get to a certain specialty store, one we reached after only ten minutes of walking.

The name was Adoration, and the logo was one of those excessively elegant affairs that, apparently, you got with stores that sold specialty garments for ladies. I'd seen Robin come back with that logo on her shopping bags a couple of times, and then surprise me with some new lingerie those nights, but I only knew the way here from looking it up online. (For a moment my mind dwelled on Robin, wondering how she was doing under there, but then brushed the thought aside and Jen was back.)

Jen stared at it from the other side of the street, where the park ended, and then at me. “You want us to go in there?” she said.

“Oh, no.” I smirked. “I want you to go in there. Surely a strong, independent woman like you doesn't need a man to help her shop?”

She frowned at that. “Fucking hilarious,” she said.

“Don't worry.” I patted her rear in an encouraging way—it was easier and more fun than trying to pat her back. “I'll be right outside if you have any problems. Go get something nice, and surprise me!”

After a few seconds, she nodded, and started stomping toward the street.

“Oh, and Jen?” I said, raising my voice a little.

She turned around.

“If you, I dunno... hear a little voice in your head, urging you to go a little more feminine than you otherwise might?” I shrugged. “Just go with it, and see what happens.”

“Uh....” She squinted. “Okay.”

Then she was off, striding across the street without bothering to use a crosswalk. Of course, if a car were to hit Jen, I was pretty sure the car would be much worse off than she would be. For my part, I hurried to a nearby bench, brushed the snow off, then sat down—and pulled out my phone.

This would be fun.

There was a battery warning on the screen, but I swiped it away: my phone was still a quarter charged, which would be enough for the next little while. With that out of the way, I opened the Erotech app back up and turned on the first person video again. Once more I could see what Jen saw, and currently what she saw was the automatic door of Adoration, sliding out of her way.

One of the staff members, a woman shorter than me who was dressed formally like a butler—this was a high class establishment, it seemed—walked over to Jen. “Welcome to Adoration, ma'am. Is this your first time here?”

The response was immediate and coarse. “Fucking duh—as if I've ever been in a pussy store like this.”

I grimaced. Old habits died hard, apparently. Luckily, Jen would have her little shoulder angel to help her.

With a careful touch, I zoomed in and selected the ear of the onscreen Jen model, and tapped one of the options. Then I said, into my phone: “I'm being a very bad girl. Mark would probably expect me to be nicer.”

Jen winced, and then said in a softer (if stiffer) tone, “Sorry, that came out wrong. Yes, this is my first time here.”

To her credit, the worker's face hadn't betrayed any emotion at the verbal abuse. “Very good, ma'am. My name is Prudence, and I can assist you today, if you know what you're looking for?” There was a pause, which Jen did nothing to fill, and Prudence added, “Or even if you're not sure?”

“Lingerie,” I whispered. “And some nice dresses in my size.”

“Maybe, uh....” Jen had to lean in to say it. “Sexy lingerie? And, like, a dress? Maybe a couple? I don't fucking know, I've never done this before.”

Prudence nodded. “Please follow me, ma'am.” And Jen followed.

I leaned back on the bench, eyes glued to the screen, rather enjoying this new way of controlling Jen. According to the manual, the feature I'd chosen would let Jen hear the words I spoke into the phone, but that wasn't the fun part. The fun part was that this particular feature put my voice through the same voice changer that was in the suit itself. According to the manual, the effect could be more-or-less subliminal, like the voice in someone's head.

Prudence led Jen through an otherwise unpopulated store to an aisle with dresses. Predictably, the first ones she saw—that was to say, the first ones we saw—were sized a bit too small. “Ugh, great,” Jen said. “This is why I never come into these places—”

“If you'll continue to follow me, ma'am?”

Jen grumbled but kept going, and as she walked, the dresses she walked by got larger and larger. Before long, her steps slowed to a stop. “Shit,” she said, where someone else might have said 'whoa'. On either side of her was a line of dresses, sized for someone seven feet tall.

Prudence nodded. “As you can see, ma'am, we have a variety of options for someone of your proportions. Does anything strike your fancy?”

“Uh....”

Judging by the way she looked around, Jen was no great expert on women's fashion. Neither was I, so I couldn't provide any hints. Thank goodness for Prudence. “I see. If I may be so bold to make a few suggestions, ma'am?”

“Sure, why not.”

Prudence selected a few simple sundresses, passed them to Jen, and Jen put them over her shoulder. “Very good. And if these aren't quite your style, we'll at least have a better idea of what you're looking for. Now, to the lingerie section, ma'am?”

Once again, the lingerie section had a diverse selection in the seven-foot-tall range. “Damn,” Jen said, feeling one between her fingers. “You get a lot of people my size in here?”

Prudence smiled. “You'd be surprised, ma'am. Do you have any ideas now?”

Again, Jen was at a loss. I, on the other hand, had some ideas here. “What about that one,” I whispered with a smile, “with the crotch cut out and the flowers on the corset? And that one that looks like a maid costume.”

Jen took the two I'd suggested in her hand. “These look fine, I guess.”

“Very good, ma'am. The changing rooms are that way.”

—

The changing rooms were as deserted as the rest of the store—I supposed that with the snow, the holiday, and the time, people weren't interested in shopping right now. Jen walked into a stall and closed the door—carefully so it didn't break. “Good girl,” I whispered, and her arousal meter rose a bit, just for a second.

Then she hung up the merchandise and got to undressing. Sweater, shorts, shoes, and undergarments alike were tossed across the room, leaving Jen standing in nothing but her collar. “Fuck me, I look good,” she said, smirking as the stall's full-length mirror showed her off in all her glory. And I agreed: she did look good—but perhaps not as good as she was about to.

“I think I'll try the one with the corset first,” I whispered, and Jen obeyed—without realizing she was obeying at all. She pulled on the lingerie set, struggling a little with the fasteners (I may have contributed to the struggle a little, with a few errant vibrations here and there), but in a few minutes it was on.

And she looked fucking gorgeous. The corset helped streamline her already beautiful curves into something close to flawless, and emphasized her breasts more than they already were emphasized, if that was possible. And I loved how the crotchless panties framed the slit between her legs.

“I should keep going,” I said, because Jen's arousal level was rising and there was serious danger of getting distracted here. So Jen took a floral dress off the hanger and pulled it on, which happened a lot more easily than the lingerie had.

And there Jen was. Sundressed, collared, barefoot, and blushing. “Wow,” she said, where she would have said shit before. “I look....”

“I look really pretty,” I suggested.

“I look really pretty,” she repeated.

Her arousal level was spiking. She did a little twirl on tiptoe, letting the fabric rise around her thighs, and smiled. Not just smiled, but laughed.

God, I loved my little sub so much. And in fact, if I let myself broach the subject for just a moment—I hoped Robin was having enough fun under there. I'd had so much fun today expressing this new side of myself, after that short adjustment period in the morning, and I could only hope she felt the same way.

Okay, that was enough broaching. I shifted mental gears back to Jen, and leaned in toward the microphone. “I'm so glad Mark convinced me to come here.”

“I'm so glad Mark convinced me to come here,” Jen said. She absentmindedly tugged at the collar.

I pressed on, smiling. “I love Mark so much.”

“I love Mark so much.”

I couldn't help myself. “I belong to Mark.”

She took a shuddering breath. “I belong to Mark.”

Caught up in ecstasy, she fell to her knees, took her breasts in her hands, and started fondling. “Oh, fuck,” she whispered, as her kneading pushed the sundress down to expose the lingerie. “I'm so hot, sir, I'm so fucking hot....”

I had a sudden idea. “I don't want anyone to hear me,” I whispered. Jen hooked two fingers under the ballgag and pulled it up into her mouth. Wordless now, saliva dribbing around the ball, she stuck a finger under her sundress. The rapid motion of her hand left no doubt as to what she was doing.

I watched, grinning up a storm, dominating from long distance—

Alert: critically low battery.

And then I frowned. Why was it showing me this stupid alert again? I hadn't used that much battery on my phone—

Wait. That wasn't a phone alert. That alert came from the Erotech app. But hang on, that didn't make sense, because Jen had been charging all night—

Jen hadn't been charging all night. Jen had been up early doing reps.

Oh, shit.

“I should really get going,” I hissed into the microphone, noticing for the first time the battery indicator on the app—it was weirdly faded and hard to see, but now that I was looking for it I could see it was nearly empty. “I should stop having fun, get dressed again, and get going as soon as possible.”

Jen's masturbation slowed down, and she looked confused.

“I should get out of here right fucking now.”

Now she looked worried. She pulled out the gag, took off the sundress and lingerie with no ceremony, and pulled back on her normal clothes. She was clearly going quickly, but every second it took was agony for me. “Come on,” I whispered, more for my benefit than for hers.

“Hello again, ma'am,” said Prudence, as Jen hurried out of the changing room with the merchandise. “Was everything to your—”

“It was great,” Jen said. “Gonna buy now.”

“Certainly.”

Jen took long strides to the registers, and Prudence had to jog to keep up. They arrived at the register, Jen threw the clothes down, and Prudence took her sweet time scanning each item. “Hurry up,” I hissed.

“Hurry up,” Jen said, crossing her arms. “I've got places to be!”

“Of course, ma'am.” Prudence increased her speed, finished scanning the items, and announced the total. “Would you like to pay with cash or—”

“Card,” Jen said. “It's in my pocket, hold on—”

Her field of view didn't change at first, so I wasn't sure what was happening. However, the mannequin Jen on the left of the screen was repeatedly reaching down by her leg, over and over again. “Hang on,” Jen muttered, sounding worried as she looked down. I could see her trying to reach into her pocket a few times, but failing to pull something out each time. Like she was suddenly drunk, or light headed.

“Is everything all right, ma'am?” Prudence asked.

“Fucking terrific. I'm just....” Jen clutched her head. “I think I... I....”

She blinked a few times. Then her eyes closed, cutting off the first person view. “No,” I said.

And then everything went blank. Signal lost, said the app.

“No!” I yelled, and jumped to my feet.

I ran to the road, but Jen had been a lot luckier than I was: there was plenty of traffic in my way, and the roads were slick enough that I could hardly trust any of the cars to stop on a dime. I delayed at a crosswalk for twenty seconds, waiting for a break in the traffic, but—fuck it. I took the best moment I could and ran, and didn't look back as cars honked around me.

I'd really fucked up. Jen had told me that me being in charge meant she didn't have to worry, and now I'd let this happen to her. And—and—

And what about Robin? What would happen if Robin was found out in public, in some kind of fucksuit?

Somehow I avoided vehicular death, and made it to the sidewalk on the other side—past the sidewalk to the sliding door—through the sliding door. “Jen!” I yelled, not seeing her immediately. There were the registers, where she'd lost power, and she wasn't there. “Jen?”

“Excuse me, sir?”

A woman walked up to me—the same woman who'd helped Jen, in fact. “Prudence?” I said. “Where's Jen?”

She frowned, and it occurred to me that I shouldn't have known her name—but no time to think about that now. “I didn't get her name, sir,” she said, “but are you referring to the tall individual who came in here about twenty minutes ago—”

“Yes, yes, exactly, is she all right?”

“Follow me, sir.”

I followed her, barely able to restrain myself from running ahead.

“Your, ah, 'friend',” Prudence said, and I could hear the sarcasm quotes even through her polite tone, “had a nasty spell. But I think she'll be all right. She's right here in the back, sir.”

And there she was. We turned a corner, and I saw Jen, slumped on a seat by the bathrooms like she'd been put there by someone else. Her eyes were closed, and she gave no sign of consciousness. “Jen!” I said, sighing with relief. “I'm so sorry.”

“I wouldn't bother, sir,” Prudence said. “It's not as if anyone can hear you right now.”

“Right, right.” I turned back to her. “Thank you so much for helping her. It must not have been easy to move her.”

“I have some experience, but the hand mover was helpful,” Prudence said, and now—with my tunnel vision slightly abated—I was able to see the pushcart next to Jen. “And of course,” she continued, “it was lucky we had a seat near an outlet.”

“An outlet?”

She nodded, and gestured down.

I looked down, and... it took me a few seconds to understand what was going on. There was a cord plugged into the wall, and the other end of that cord slipped into the leghole of Jen's shorts, and when I lifted that leghole a bit, I saw... a charger. The same kind of smooth, circular diaphragm that we used to charge Jen at home.

And then it hit me. Then my heart sank. “Oh,” I said, looking back at Prudence. “You know.”

“Of course I know, sir,” she said, looking a little surprised. “You do know what this store is, don't you?”

I stared blankly.

She stared back. Then sighed. “I think a few explanations are in order, sir,” she said. “However, before that... this charger is perfectly functional for overnight use, but since it has no direct connection to the chassis beneath, it does not charge very quickly. It would take at least an hour for this unit to be charged up enough to leave the store. Might I ask your consent, sir, to hook up a more direct charging method?”

“What? Um. Sure?”

“Very good, sir.” Prudence stood over Jen, grabbed her hips, and levered her up with the practiced motion of someone who'd done this before. “Although, sir,” she added, lowering Jen unceremoniously to the cart, “it's quite all right if you reconsider once you see the charger itself.”

—

Jen stood in a neutral position on a mannequin stand, her eyes still closed, with the stand's pole penetrating her right between the legs. Her shorts and panties had been pulled aside to make room.

It made logical sense, as Prudence had explained it to me. The outer suit was vaginal entry, which meant that the vulva was the hole with the best connection to the chassis underneath. The Erotech app confirmed it: it had re-established a connection with Jen and showed that she'd be fully charged within minutes. And, knowing Robin, I couldn't imagine her being too disappointed with this latest twist to the day's proceedings—sensory deprivation to the max, unable to hear or see or speak or touch, plus a surprise from down below.

Even so, though, this was... a lot. I had a lot of questions as I looked around the room, and even though most of them were obvious, I couldn't help but ask them. “So,” I said, turning to Prudence, “your store sells... Jens?”

“If you'd like to call it that, yes, sir. We offer a wide range of Erotech products, including personal exoskeletons, but certainly not limited to the same.” Prudence gestured toward the products next to Jen: more exoskeletons, which looked just like she did without the skin. They were charging on their own poles, each one on its own plinth, in identical poses to Jen. There were several of them, in two lines along the walls of this corridor of a room.

“And....” I looked around at some of the plinths further down the room. They had curtains around them, as if someone was getting undressed there. “You don't exactly advertise it?”

“Well, sir, those who know what they're looking for tend to find us fairly easily.” Prudence smiled. “As for those who don't, well... these products can seem a little, shall we say, racy? We wouldn't want any of our valued customers to feel uncomfortable.”

Which was why we'd entered this room through a locked door in the back of the store, hidden behind a curtain that looked like it was just there for aesthetics.

“Huh.” I shrugged. “I never did ask Robin where she got the suit... I guess that makes sense.”

Prudence frowned. “I don't mean to intrude, sir, but... Robin? As in, Robin Reed?” I nodded, and she continued. “You're absolutely correct, sir. Robin Reed was in here purchasing a personal exoskeleton about two weeks ago.”

“Yeah, of course!” I lowered my voice. “She's, uh... you've probably figured this out, but that's Robin in there right now. She's been doing her best to stay in character, so if you could, uh... pretend not to know Jen's an exoskeleton or something, I think she would really appreciate it.”

Prudence frowned again, but deeper this time. “I'm sorry to disagree, sir, but are you sure she's in there?”

I raised my eyebrows. “Well, um, of course I'm sure. Who else would it be?”

“Well, that's the thing, sir. Robin Reed specifically requested an exoskeleton with an autonomous mode.”

I blinked.

“It's quite a new feature, and I think we only had the one suit with it available,” Prudence continued. “The autonomous mode is able to control the suit's body parts, respond appropriately to stimulus—both from its senses, and the controller—and it is even able to simulate a personality.”

“A personality?”

“Yes. Nothing too complex, as I understand it. The AI is able to project a simple but strong personality, one which develops and modifies in response to stimulus. Fairly simple machine learning, as I understand it, sir.”

“Hang on,” I said. I felt like I was losing my balance, like the room was on a ship that was being tossed by waves. “Simple but strong personality? Like... big jerk jock?”

“I think that's one of the options, sir. From there, the personality is trained and altered by its experiences, particularly those received through the controller. How long have you been training your unit, sir?” She leaned forward, seeming genuinely interested.

“Um... this morning, I guess?”

Her eyebrows rose. “Then might I just say, well done, sir. It seems very well trained. I would have expected you to tell me you'd been disciplining it for at least several days.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I took a step back, or should I say staggered. “This is crazy. That's not an AI, that's my girlfriend Robin in there.”

“Are you certain, sir?” She stared at me. “That is to say, did you see her enter the unit?”

“Well, she said she was leaving last night, but when I woke up Jen was active and so, obviously... obviously....”

Prudence sighed. “And since you did not know about the unit's autonomous mode, you obviously assumed Robin was controlling 'Jen'. I understand, sir.”

I staggered all the way back to the wall. This didn't make sense. I'd read the whole manual, it hadn't mentioned any autonomous mode—

(Could I put it past Robin to have gotten a manual for a different exoskeleton? One which didn't have this feature?)

And—and what about gym clothes and weights? Where had Jen gotten those?

(Robin had to buy them either way. That only proved she'd snuck back into the apartment overnight. It didn't prove she was in Jen.)

“She ate some eggs?” I offered, weakly. “And drank some water?”

“That is indeed possible with an autonomous unit, sir.” Prudence's expression was severe. “The water will be used to replenish the suit's internal supply as usual. As for the food, it will obviously not be digested, but it will be stored.”

Oh my god.

“I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you all this, sir,” she said, and to her credit Prudence did look appropriately solemn. “If it makes you feel better, none of this is to say that your lady friend isn't in there. But I felt you should know, seeing as you seem to be taking responsibility for this unit, sir, regardless of who may or may not be inside.”

I took a few deep breaths. Then a few more. Then, as I was about to take a few more after that, my phone buzzed. When I pulled it out, I saw that Jen was fully charged. I looked up at her—it?—expectantly, but no motion.

“The unit will not move,” Prudence said, “unless you activate it from your control app, or else speak the override phrase. You may remember the phrase in question from your manual?”

“Yeah, I do....” I clenched my fists for a moment. Dammit, Robin. “I'm going to ignore all that stuff you told me,” I said, trying to keep my voice level. “I'm going to keep doing what I was doing—treating Jen like she's a person. Someone I care a lot about.”

“A perfectly respectable option, sir,” Prudence said. Her tone was neutral, but it was impossible for me not to feel like it was condescending, even if she didn't mean it that way. “I won't get in your way at all.”

“Right.” I swallowed. “Can you get me a glass of water?”

—

“Erotech override: Resume suit operations,” I said.

Jen, now slumped over in a seat Prudence had provided, took a few seconds to stir. When she did, she opened her eyes blearily and reached out with a hand, like she was trying to grab a fly. “Mrrfgfh,” she said, sagging over.

“Whoa! Easy.” I rushed to her side and tried to keep her upright, which took some effort.

“Fucking head,” she muttered, blinking hard. “What the fuck was that?”

“I'm afraid it looks like you, shall we say, 'powered down', ma'am,” said Prudence, standing close in front of her. “I brought you to a back room to recharge.”

“Fainted... what kind of pussy shit....”

Jen tried to stand up, but I pushed her back and said, “Sit down. Drink this.” I held out the big cup of water I'd gotten—it looked like it held about half a gallon. Jen looked at it for a few seconds, then let me hold it to her lips and pour. She drank like a racehorse, emptying the cup within a minute.

(Had anyone actually drank that, or was that just going into a reservoir—)

“That helps.” Jen wiped her lips with a shaky hand, and looked at me. “You're here.”

“I, uh... I was watching the doors.” It was barely a lie, which made it easy to come up with on the fly. “I came as soon as I saw you fall.”

She looked at me, and I wondered if I could see a blush on her cheeks. “Thank you, sir.”

“Any time.” I put my hand on her shoulder, and wondered how much I meant it. “Let's help you get up.”

She nodded, planted her hands on the sides of the chair, and stood. I remained at her side, hoping she wouldn't fall over and flatten me, and Prudence moved to her other side. But Jen, despite a shaky start, managed to get standing. “Shit,” she said, rubbing her head as she swayed a bit. “Guess I gotta, uh, drink more water after weights, huh?”

Then she took her hand off her eyes and got her first look at the room. “Uh.” She looked at Prudence, who had backed away a respectful distance, then at me. “The fuck are those?”

Prudence was quicker than I was. “This is a back room where we thought you might have more privacy, ma'am. And those....” She gestured at the three occupied stands, and one unoccupied stand. “Those are other exoskeleton units like yourself, ma'am, ready to be purchased and used for their owners' pleasure in much the same way as your owner is using you. While you're here, ma'am, would your owner like to see our full catalog?”

I blinked. “Just a quick sec, Jen,” I said, and walked over to Prudence. “Ex-freaking-scuse me,” I hissed under my breath as I leaned down toward her. “How is this 'not getting in my way at all'?”

“Well, sir,” Prudence said at a similar volume, a little smirk on her face. “Perhaps my experience is limited, but I've never met an Erotech exoskeleton user who objected to being treated as a dumb, obedient robot.”

I stared. She smiled, and walked away. “If you'll follow me, ma'am,” she said, “I can show your owner some of your customization options.”

I didn't move until Jen walked up by me and leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Hey, sir,” she said, “did you tell her to call me a robot?”

“Um....” This was a harder lie to manage, even if it was much shorter. “Yes?”

“Huh.” She blushed. “That's kinda fuckin' hot, sir.”

Well then.

Prudence's little smile did not waver, but might have become more... to use a technical term, shit-eating. “Sir and ma'am,” she said, pressing a button near the closest curtained plinth. “Allow me to present to you the entire Erotech catalog.”

The curtained plinths—a dozen or so on each side of the room—opened up as one, and display lights flicked on. My jaw dropped, and so did Jen's.

“As you can see, sir and ma'am,” Prudence said, gesturing at dozens of Jen-sized figures, but in all variety of skins and outfits, “we have a diverse collection for you to peruse. If you'd be interested in taking a look?”

I looked up at Jen. She shrugged. “I'd like to, sir. Personally I think it looks cool.”

It was a little bizarre, feeling helpless in the presence of two people who referred to me exclusively as “sir”. I walked forward, dazed.

“Obviously, sir and ma'am, the exoskeletons you see to your left and right are our basic models.” Prudence indicated the unadorned robots with a glance. “I don't imagine I need to explain their features to you?”

“Damn,” Jen said with a laugh,” you people have some pretty expensive looking mannequins.” She paused. “Oh, excuse me. 'Robots'.” She used both index fingers for the air quotes.

For my part, I just shook my head in answer.

“And here are some of our basic bodysuits,” Prudence went on, gesturing at the next couple stands. “For simple everyday use, like the way you're being used now, ma'am.”

There were indeed several bodysuits present, and I hadn't been expecting how creepy it would be—they all looked like seven foot tall people, with chargers jammed between their legs, eyes closed and motionless as if in suspended animation. They had a variety of hair colors, skin colors, and—I blinked—genders.

“Shit, this guy's dick is huge!” Jen said, grabbing it and moving it around. The guy's charging port, for what it was worth, entered through the rear.

“Indeed so, ma'am,” Prudence said. “Incidentally, for the sake of pleasure and convenience, any of our bodysuits can be worn over one other skin without any visible irregularities on the outside. If your owner was curious about giving you a huge dick, ma'am.”

“Huh.” Jen squinted. “So I could wear this guy, huh?” She frowned. “I dunno, wearing some kinda gender changing suit? Seems fuckin' weird.”

Okay, so maybe it was Robin. An AI wouldn't know to fuck with me like that.

And then—“Holy shit,” Jen said, another one of the skins catching her eye. “That looks a fucking shit-ton like me, what the fuck.”

I did a double take—it didn't just look like her, it was her. Another Jen-style bodysuit, standing motionless, looking exactly like Jen had five minutes ago when she was inert on her charger. The only difference was the lack of clothes.

Jen felt it, squeezing the bosom and caressing down by the charger. “Why does it look so much like me?” she demanded, looking at Prudence.

“Why, because it is you, ma'am.” Prudence smiled.

Jen hesitated. “What?”

“It's always been you, ma'am. You are one of our products, and that is your stand.” Prudence nodded toward the single empty charger. “We were very frightened when you ran off, but now you're back with us, and we're all so pleased! And now you'll get to stay forever....”

A few seconds passed. Then Prudence smiled and said, “Just my little joke, ma'am. All Erotech bodysuits are invented wholesale, as it were, and any resemblance between a bodysuit and any persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. Shall we continue?”

Jen remained frozen where she stood, blushing. On a whim, I checked my phone, and saw that her arousal level was rising.

“Moving on, sir and ma'am,” she said, “we have an item which is not a bodysuit per se, but which does cover the entire body.” The item was a gimp suit—or rather, a pair of gimp suits on either side, both shiny and black and covered in cufflinks. There were no eyeholes, and when I examined the mouth, it turned out to be an anatomical gag. “Some of our more creative customers,” Prudence said, “have found it diverting to layer this suit under a bodysuit. The effect is a character who is apparently unencumbered, but in fact finds themselves blinded and dumbstruck.”

“Fuck yeah,” Jen whispered. Now her arousal was spiking.

“And now, for a few of our, shall we say, novelty bodysuits?”

I looked these over, and raised an eyebrow as I noticed two things: firstly, the 'novelties' seemed to comprise the majority of the suits. And secondly, unlike Jen, none of these could ever be worn out and about—not without arousing suspicion, and arousing horny passersby too.

An orc straight out of fantasy—or out of a wet dream, considering the massive tits. A cow girl, and not the kind that rode horses. An anthropomorphic tiger and wolf, each with a collar that had room for a name to be written on it: the tiger female and the wolf male. And then....

“Aren't those from some anime or something?” I said, pointing at a few.

“I said that Erotech bodysuits are not based on anyone living or dead, sir,” Prudence said, nodding. “However, they have acquired the rights to a few fictional characters.”

“And that one....” I paused, looking at the woman with the black gown, spiky turtle shell, tail, and horns. “Isn't that the one from that meme, where it's got the bad guy from Mario and he puts on the crown—”

“That one was a little trickier, sir,” Prudence said, this time with a grin. “But I can confidently say that no one's sued us yet.”

“Okay. And that one... does the face move? It looks like it doesn't.”

“No, sir. Some people are into that.”

“All right.” And finally, at the end.... “Oh, come on.”

It was a robot. Not the same as the unadorned robot exoskeletons at the other end of the hall, either: those were smooth and streamlined, but this was spiky, bulky, and exaggerated.

“Damn, that's cool,” Jen said, walking over to it and admiring it for a few seconds. Then she glanced at me. “How about it, sir? I could pretend to be an android!”

I blinked a few times. My teeth were clenching.

“And of course,” Prudence said, pressing another button, “we have a diverse selection of restraints and toys designed to interface with larger devices, such as your companion.” Between the plinths, more displays opened up from the wall. I saw ballgags, handcuffs, spreader bars, every sort of dildo I could imagine—and all looked massive and heavy duty.

Jen stared at them. She walked over to one of the pairs of handcuffs, as if in a trance, then took it in both hands and tried to rip it apart with a grunt of effort. Nothing happened.

“Holy shit. They always break.” Then, she put one of the cuffs around her wrist and closed it. Before I could do more than widen my eyes in surprise, she'd gotten her arms behind her back and cuffed the other wrist. “God, fucking finally,” she whispered, her arms shaking as if she was trying to free herself.

“Dammit, Jen,” I hissed, “we're in public—”

Prudence cut in. “The store Adoration has never had any problem with customers trying on the merchandise,” she said. “Particularly such a valued customer as yourself, sir, and your device. Our janitorial staff will sort out any cleanup.”

“Please, sir,” Jen whispered. “No offense, but—” she motioned downward with her chin, and I realized she was indicating the ballgag around her neck “—I could probably bite through this. But some of these, these could finally give your device a good fucking.” She arched her back, presenting breasts to me that strained under her sweater.

I grabbed a large ballgag from a shelf. “Try this on, slut,” I said, and shoved it into her mouth as she opened it, then strapped it around her head over her hair. She moaned with pleasure into the gag, mouth straining as she tried and failed to bite down into it. Her pleasure only increased when I grabbed some ankle cuffs and got those around her, locking her legs together.

It wasn't for her pleasure, though. It was to shut her the fuck up. It was increasingly difficult to keep up the idea that Jen was really Robin, not when she kept—kept taunting me, that was the word for it. Taunting me about not being the person I thought she was. Why was Robin doing this, if it was her? And if it wasn't....

“I commend you on your restraint, sir,” Prudence said. When I looked at her, she was offering me a dildo of prodigious length. “Might I recommend this to start out? We have a variety of larger options if you would prefer.”

I didn't hesitate before grabbing the dildo. “You've been a very bad girl, slut,” I said, slapping it against my open palm, and I could feel the steel in my voice. Jen squirmed at the words. “Do you know what happens to bad girls?” I said, walking forward and yanking down her shorts.

No matter who Jen was, the answer was the same: what happened was punishment.

—

We ended up getting a whole collection of sex toys, some more costumes, and a few of the novelty suits. Not the robot suit, though, because I was pretty sure that would have made my head explode.

My servile slut carried all of them, of course. The suits were in a massive bag the size of Santa's sack of presents, slung over her shoulder: it didn't seem to be difficult for her to carry in the slightest. Most of the clothes and the toys were in there too, but... not quite all.

Jen let out a little moan from behind me, and when I looked back I saw her shiver. “Aw,” I said, “cold, are we?” I stopped to let her caught up to me, and slapped her ass once she had. “You should have dressed warmer, slut.”

She didn't have a choice. I'd stripped her naked in the store, tossed the clothes she'd brought in the bag, and made her put on the red sundress over the crotchless lingerie. Now her arms were bare, and her upper chest was exposed by a low neckline. “You'd better walk faster,” I said, “if you don't want to get cold.”

Of course, the cold wasn't really why she was shuddering. As she made a noise of assent and tried to walk forward, she was stopped by another shiver—of pain or pleasure, it was hard to tell. The reason why she was shivering wasn't a mystery, though: some of the toys from the store weren't being carried inside the bag, but inside Jen herself. It showed, if you were looking for it: every few steps she stumbled.

Still walking beside her, I slipped my hand back under her sundress, first squeezing her ass, and then feeling at the gap in her panties. It wasn't hard to find the shaft of the nub-covered dildo I'd tucked away inside her pussy, nor the pull tab of the beads in her ass. I tugged idly at the latter, and Jen clenched up, not letting the balls be pulled out. “That's right,” I say, tapping lightly at the dildo. “You'd be very naughty to let either of these fall out, understand?”

Jen made a noise of assent.

“What was that?” I cupped a hand around my ear. “Didn't catch what you said, slut.”

Another noise or two.

“That'll do for now.” I walked faster. “Better keep up!”

The reason Jen couldn't just say 'yes, sir' was the final toy she was carrying outside the bag. Unfortunately for her, this one couldn't be hidden under a sundress. From the outside, it looked like a ballgag—which was spicy enough, walking through public like this—but it had a hidden secret: another dildo on the inside, extending through her mouth toward her throat. And this one was locked on.

(She still wore the other gag around her neck. I thought it was stylish.)

The straps for the dildo gag were hidden under Jen's prodigious hair, but if anyone really looked at her, they could hardly miss the big black ball between her lips. She had to hope that the post-sunset darkness, in the mostly empty park, would keep her from being found out.

But 'mostly empty' did not mean entirely empty. As we continued along the path, a couple came into view in the darkness: two men, laughing together. Jen's eyes widened, and she raised a hand to cover her mouth as if she was yawning. They stared up at her nevertheless—it wasn't every day that you saw a seven foot woman—and I saw her turn away, blushing furiously.

I wondered if Jen was having fun, but not enough to ask her. And not enough to seriously care. I was having fun, anyway. Robin would probably be happy to be dominated. And if Robin wasn't there, well... the question of whether anyone besides me was having fun was moot.

The couple walked past, and I heard some surprised comments from them as they disappeared into the night. “Aww, didn't want them to see?” I pinched her rear, and she made a little whine. “Maybe I'll have you lift up the dress for the next couple. Really give them a show.”

She looked pleadingly at me, like she really didn't want me to do it. I snorted. “Keep moving.”

Sadly, there was no next couple: we made it back to my apartment building without meeting anyone. Though I heard the sounds of New Year's Eve celebrations as we took the elevator up to my floor, no one saw us on the way back to the apartment itself. It was probably just as well: Jen was stumbling more, one hand on the wall for support, and I could hear her breathing becoming more distressed.

At last I unlocked the door and let her in. She made it a few steps inside before collapsing to her knees, letting the bag fall to the floor. She reached up and grabbed at the gag's straps, pulling at them, but they were heavy duty and weren't going anywhere.

“Oh, does my little slut want something?” I walked over in front of her. “Use your words, slut.”

She tried. The muffled noises I heard from her definitely sounded like, “Please let me go, sir.”

I tapped my chin. “Ohhhhhh. So you want this?” I pulled out the gag's key from my pocket. Her eyes widened and she made frantic sounds. “Well,” I said, pocketing it again, “let's see if you've done what I told you to do. Stand up, slut, and present.”

She let out another pitiful whine of protest.

“I said present yourself, slut.”

Jen's head hung. She let go of the gag, stood shakily, and raised her sundress.

“Ah, that's what I'm looking for.” I reached out and took the base of the dildo first, and pulled it out slowly, letting every nub have its turn against her walls. Once the whole thing was out, it was plain to see that the dildo was larger than anything Robin could have taken.

“And this,” I added, tugging again at the anal beads. This time, Jen let me pull them out one by one, shuddering mightily as each emerged.

“Well,” I said, “you've done as I commanded. Kneel.”

She kneeled. I walked around behind her and pulled her hair to either side, revealing the lock. It was the work of a moment to unlock it: once I had, she pulled it out and heaved a huge, gasping breath. She clutched at her throat. Small wonder: the throat dildo wasn't much shorter than the one that had been in her pussy.

I walked around to stand over her again, and slapped her across the face. “Aren't you going to thank me?”

She coughed several times, but choked out, “Thank you, sir!”

“You're very welcome, slut. Now don't get too comfortable,” I sneered. “Why don't you unpack all of your lovely customization options?”

“Yes, sir,” she sputtered, and got to work.

For the sake of being able to fit everything in the bag, I'd already had Jen open the boxes of our purchases at the store. She knelt and pulled out several suits from the bag, and they sagged on the floor, deflated. Then she laid out the toys, which weren't as big as the suits but far more numerous.

“That's right,” I said, as she set down the last toy—a charging stand like at the store. It was compacted right now, but could telescope up high enough to become inescapable once it was lodged inside its corresponding device. A useful place to put Jen if ever I wanted a little time off.

“Now here's what's going to happen, my slutty little device.” I looked down at Jen, who was still kneeling and bent over. “I'm going to customize you. You're going to put on whichever of these suits I want you put on, and you're going to be who I tell you to be, and do what I tell you to do. Doesn't that get you hot?”

She didn't answer. I walked forward and grabbed her chin, making her look at me. “I said, doesn't that get you hot?”

“Y-yes, sir.” She looked uneasy. I didn't care. If she wanted out, she just had to say the safe word. She'd know it if she were my Robin, and if she wasn't, well, who cared?

“That's right. And you'll be doing that until I say otherwise. And moreover, since you've made me very cross tonight....” I squeezed her chin harder. “I won't say otherwise for a while, my subservient little device.”

“Um, sir?”

“I think I'll start with putting you in the gimp suit.” I leaned down, picked it up, and traced the anatomical mouth gag with a finger. “So that slutty mouth of yours can't be used for anything except, well....” I stuck my finger inside. “Well, I'm sure you can imagine.” I grinned. “And then, who knows? Maybe I'll put one of these collars on—” I picked one up “—and lock it on. Maybe I'll lose the key somewhere—”

“Sir?” Jen said, quietly. “Please stop.”

“Excuse me?” I grabbed her chin again and yanked it up. “Is that any way for my device to talk back?”

“Sir—Mark—please fucking stop!”

She was pleading with me.

I blinked a few times. Something that had been behind my eyes, like some kind of red haze that I hadn't even noticed was there, dissipated. “Um,” I said, feeling like I'd been dunked in cold water.

“Mark,” she said. “Can we talk?” She didn't stand up and loom over me or anything. She didn't shout.

I walked over to the couch and sat on one side. Jen sat on the other, not far away.

My mind raced. If Jen didn't want to go through with this—Prudence had said that their AIs could be trained, and if this was an AI then surely I'd been training it to be subservient at all times so—but if this was the original 'jock' personality coming back then why was she asking to talk—

“I've spent a lot of time trying to be... a huge fucking dick,” Jen said, interrupting my frantic train of thought. She was looking right at me. “It's kinda what people expected. Today, I got a taste of being, well, not that, and it has been pretty great. And pretty hot.” She blushed but didn't break eye contact. “And now I feel like I've got a chance to explore a new... well, a new fuckin' Jen, is what.”

It occurred to me how much I loved that. Slipping in coarse profanity even in the middle of a heartfelt speech.

“And what you're talking about right now, about being forced to be someone else....” She grimaced. “I'm not sure if I'm up for that. Right when I'm trying to figure out being me. And all the stuff you're talking about on top of that, about being like your slave or robot or what the fuck?” Her eyes narrowed. “That's really kind of fucked up, dude.”

If Jen was making these kinds of comments, these nuanced, heartfelt comments....

I let out a deep breath. She wasn't an AI. She really was Robin under there.

And maybe, more importantly right now, she was Jen.

“Dude?” Jen waved a hand in front of my face. “You wanna fuckin' say something?”

“Oh, sorry, I, um....” First things first. “I'm sorry. I got really carried away, it's just... I guess I thought you liked it? You did at first.” I sighed. “But I should have known when to stop when you weren't having fun anymore. If I'm in charge, then that's my job, and I screwed up. I'm really sorry.” I laid down my hand on the couch, and she put hers on mine, covering it completely.

But I didn't want to just talk to Jen. “There's another thing. I've been having this, uh....” How to say this without breaking character.... “This argument with Robin recently? I won't get into specifics, but something she did a little while ago made me really unsure if I could trust her. I shouldn't have taken it out on you, though. Sorry again.”

Jen winced. “Ah, shit, Robin.”

To be honest, I'd kind of been wondering—in the back of my mind—how that piece of our roleplay was going to work. But I had an answer ready. “Don't worry about her. She's been trying to get me to try new things forever. If I know her, she'll be thrilled about today.”

“Huh.” Jen frowned. “I guess I knew this from back in college, but still—your girlfriend is fucking weird, dude.”

“Super fucking weird.”

We both snorted.

“So....” Jen looked back at the suits. “What are we gonna do with those?”

“Well.” I took a few seconds to speak as the thought coalesced in my mind. Then I scooched over. “So, Robin is really weird. And for a long time, I always felt like she was trying to drag me into it. Trying to get me to, I dunno, hypnotize her or put a leash around her neck or something.”

Jen frowned, but I waved my hand. “I'm going somewhere with this. Near the end, it felt like she was trying to make me pretend to be someone I'm not. Literally. But....” I slowed down as I found the words. “Looking back, it feels more like... like she was trying to let me be someone I am? But in a different way than I normally do.”

I laughed. “I mean, look at today! Robin would love to see me dominate her like this, and I didn't know I could do that. And aside from that part right at the end, it's been really fun.” Then I looked Jen in the eyes again. “So I guess what I'm saying is that I don't want to make you into someone you're not. You're still going to be Jen. It's just that you're going to be exploring a different side of yourself.”

She frowned, considering that for a while. “Well... that sounds like it could be kinda fun.” She smirked. “Sir.”

“Just for safety....” I took a second to come up with a random word. “Apple juice. That's our safe word. If you feel like I'm going too far again, just say that and I'll stop immediately, okay? No questions asked.”

“That's two words, dipshit.”

I snorted. “Now, now. Don't talk that way to your sir, slut.”

She held my gaze defiantly. “Well, I'm very sorry about that, sir. What are you going to do to punish your disobedient slut?”

I smiled.

—

A while later, as I was watching some kinda Christmas movie, I noticed my drink was empty. I paused the movie, raised my voice, and called, “Oh, Jessabelle!”

There was a pause. Then I heard, “This is dumb. Sir.”

“Oh, okay, so being a table wasn't dumb but this is?”

“Yes! Sir!”

“Just try it or I'm putting the bit gag back. That's an order.”

There was a great big groan of a sigh, which I let slide. Then Jessabelle said, “Moo,” and crawled over from the corner of the room where she'd been waiting. With every step, the large cowbell around her neck made its clanking ring. “Moo. Sir.”

“You and I both know you don't have to say 'sir' with the moos.”

“Moo.”

Jessabelle was obviously Jen underneath—the size was a giveaway, and also the voice hadn't changed, because apparently layering successive suits over the top didn't grant that functionality—but otherwise she was comprehensively transformed. Horns sprouted from her temple that were just long enough to grasp, her nose was more of a snout, her hair was short and black, and a tufted tail swung from her coccyx. Her musculature was covered up by fat that enhanced her curves. Instead of a tan, she sported pale skin that was randomly dappled black, including around one eye.

Perhaps redundantly, this skin had also come with a cow print bikini and buttplug tail. I'd elected to put her in the former only.

Once Jessabelle the cowgirl reached me and crawled onto the couch, I took my glass and held it under her massive breasts—bigger than even Jen's. With my other hand, I grabbed the breast it was under and squeezed.

Jen let out a noise of pleasure as the drink poured out—egg nog, in fact, but it looked a lot like milk. But it wasn't the right noise of pleasure. I patted her cheek. “Try again.”

This time, I squeezed hard, and Jen was ready. “Moooo!” I continued to knead at the breast, provoking similar noises, until my cup was full and her breasts had shrunk slightly. I'd put a fair amount of egg nog into this skinsuit's reservoir, and I intended to drink it all.

“Good girl,” I said, tousling her short hair. She let out another moo, blushing a little—good, so the blushing still worked through two suits—and turned around to crawl to the rug she'd been kneeling on. As she did, I took the opportunity to grab her tail and give it a yank.

“Moo-oo!?” She froze stock-still. In that moment I could have sworn her hair stood on end.

“Huh. You can feel that?” I stood up and toyed with the tail a little more, tugging it this way and that.

“Moo,” she said, looking back at me with a flat expression even as she blushed furiously.

I snorted. “Guess that's a yes. Well... good job so far with the noises, Jessabelle,” I said, undoing my pants. “But let's see if there's a more fun way to get the milk out.”

“Moo?”

I shoved the side of her rear, and she let me push her over on her side, then her front. She spread her legs expectantly, staring at me, and let out a bovine snort. I grabbed her legs, feeling the fat squish under my hands, and entered.

“Moo-oo!”

Before long she was lactating. Milk—hers and, eventually, mine—squirted all over her body. And afterward, Jessabelle was in charge of cleaning it up.

—

Jeeves, my definitely male butler, prepared dinner in a formal suit. “Your entree will be ready in a few minutes, my lord,” he said, in an accent that wasn't British but definitely sounded refined. Or at least like someone trying to sound refined. “Might I offer you a choice of wines for this evening?”

“Thank you, Jeeves, but you're enough for me,” I said, sauntering over behind him and grabbing his bulging cock through his pants. It was the cheesiest shit I could have possibly said, but if Jen could stay in character through this she could stay in character through anything.

Jeeves stiffened in both ways at once. “I'm sure my lord finds it... amusing... to toy with his Jeeves,” he said, his voice cracking a little. “But I really must finish the dish.”

“Oh, come on, Jeeves, I know you can multitask.” I let my free hand slide over his sculpted pectorals, and he bit his lip.

“Might I remind my lord that his lady will be back by week's end?” His hands shook as he tried to stir the food, while I was unbuttoning his pants.

“She doesn't need to know, Jeeves. It's just you and me....”

I'd never really wondered if I was bisexual. I wasn't sure if this counted, to be honest. But as I loosed my servant's underpants, and the trapped cock burst free, I know something got excited inside me. “Well, Jeeves,” I said, pumping it slowly and watching his face. “Try not to let it get on my food.”

His teeth clenched as I started slow, but increased speed. Before long his cheeks were reddening, and he was panting. His hands shook so much he could no longer tend the dish.

And then, as I kept pumping, his pants got higher and higher pitched, until he at last let out a keening cry.

He clapped a hand to his mouth. I stopped immediately. “Excuse me, Jeeves?” I said, taking a step back and letting go. “Since when do you make that sort of noise?”

His face filled with horror. “Please don't fire me, sir!” he said, in the same high pitched voice.

I paused. The plan had been for Jen to just play Jeeves and try to stay in that character, but... this other voice she was doing was higher-pitched than her usual. She was improvising. “Who are you?” I demanded. “And what have you done with my servant Jeeves?”

“It's me, my lord. I've been Jeeves the whole time. Please don't fire me, please....”

“Who are you really then, girl?”

It took her a moment to think of something, but only a moment. “Rachel, my lord. You weren't hiring female servants, but I found this bodysuit, and... oh, please don't tell the lady about this, my lord!” He—she—knelt down in front of me, grabbing my hand in supplication.

I snorted angrily, despite actually being quite impressed. It was very difficult to keep a straight face. “Get up, girl! You have a meal to finish, and then we can talk about how you can persuade me to keep your secret.”

“Thank you, my lord!” She stood up and got back to the cooking.

Not that I was done. As she got back to work, I pulled her pants down the rest of the way. “My lord?” she said, in that high pitched voice still.

“Just keep working.”

“Yes, my lord.”

She didn't react as I continued to strip her until she was naked, putting her gloriously male body on display. Then I walked away to make some preparations. When I got back, she bowed to me. “Dinner is prepared, my lord. Um... what is that?”

“This,” I said, holding up the frilly maid outfit, “is a garment more appropriate to your identity, Rachel. Put it on.”

“Yes, my lord,” she said.

“But first....” I held up what was in my other hand—a bag of goodies including, but not limited to, a trio of egg vibrators and some tape. “Your punishment.”

She blinked as I taped one egg to each nipple. “Your breasts must be tight under there, Rachel. I bet that's sensitive, huh?” I gave one of the nipples a flick, and she flinched. I laughed, and taped on the third vibrator around her dick. “Oh, and how could I forget!”

I reached into the bag, pulled out a jeweled buttplug, and shoved it in. She stood ramrod-straight for a moment. “M-my lord!” she yelped.

I reached around her and pressed the on button for each of the three vibrators, whose controls were also taped to the muscular body of Jeeves. She shivered and panted with the vibration. “Now put this on,” I said, throwing the maid outfit at her.

Shuddering but obedient, she carefully put on each piece of the outfit, from the sheer stockings to the frilly skirt to the headpiece. When complete, her masculine body looked quite incongruous in such a feminine outfit—particularly with how the penis was visible under the skirt, holding it up like a tentpole.

I allowed myself a moment to take stock. This had gone from Jen pretending to be 'Jeeves', to Jen pretending to be 'Rachel', pretending to be 'Jeeves'.

(And at the back of my mind I reminded myself it was actually Robin pretending to be Jen pretending to be....)

But hell, we could go deeper.

“My, Jeeves,” I said, walking forward and squeezing her—his?—firm booty. “I do appreciate you taking the time to play pretend for me."

He blinked for a few seconds, standing uneasily on high heels. “Um... of course, my lord?” Masculine voice again.

“Now, now, you'll need a higher voice than that if you want to play Rachel,” I said. “And what on earth is this?” I raised the skirt to reveal his erect member, nearly a foot long. I tutted. “You'll never be a convincing girl with that. Something must be done.”

“My lord?” he said in a higher voice—but not as high as Rachel's had been. It sounded credibly like a man trying to do a falsetto.

Before he could say more, I pulled the vibrator off his dick—it had done enough work—and pumped it a few times. It didn't take much to bring him to orgasm, and soon ropes were splattering over my floor, while Jeeves bucked with each ejaculation.

“So messy,” I said, shaking my head. I walked again to the bag of toys and pulled out a very special toy—and now that Jeeves had gone soft, it was the perfect time to use it. I guided his shrunken member into the cage before sealing it with a click.

“There!” I stepped back, satisfied at how it was no longer visible under the skirt. “One more step, 'Rachel'. What's a good maid without makeup?” I pulled the last items from the bag—some of Robin's lipstick and mascara.

He gulped, but took the makeup. “One moment, my lord,” he said in the same falsetto, and turned away from me to apply it. When he turned back around a minute later, the lipstick was overdone and the eyeshadow verged on ghoulish, like how a drag queen would apply it. Perfect.

“I am so glad Robin let us hire female staff,” I remarked, as 'Rachel' took deep breaths to steady himself. “Now won't you please serve me, Rachel?”

“Oh—of course, my lord.” With a spatula and a falsetto he served the contents of the pan onto a plate, then placed it at my placemat. “Your supper, my lord.”

“Why, thank you, Rachel,” I said, smiling. “But... that's not the kind of serving I'm talking about....” I stepped forward, took his chiseled chin in one hand, and his exposed balls in the other. “Aw, your clit is twitching!”

Jeeves's eyes widened, and he didn't respond for several seconds. Then he said, in Jen's rough voice, “Apple juice.”

I immediately stepped back, hands raised. “Oh, shit. Sorry. Did I go too far?”

“I mean, kinda? Just....” She frowned and held out a hand. “Like, am I playing Rachel here, or Jeeves playing Rachel, or Rachel playing Jeeves playing Rachel....” She counted it out on her fingers. “... playing Jeeves?”

I stared at her. She stared at me.

We both burst out laughing so hard we cried.

“Okay, this roleplay got way too convoluted,” I said, wiping away a tear. “How about I just fuck your boypussy and call it quits for now?”

Jen, leaning on the counter, smirked. “Sounds good to me, my lord.”

—

The next role was a lot simpler, and ultimately a lot more fun for both of us.

“Come on, Jazzy!” I said, holding a cat dancer—one of those yard-long, flexible wires with the colorful feathers on the end. I twitched it appealingly, once, twice, to entice her, and watched her pupils widen, watched her gather her weight on her haunches.

And then I swung my hand out, sending the feather yards away.

Jazzy the oversized housecat—in fact, Jazzy the anthropomorphic tiger—pounced. She galloped across the floor on all fours, making the floor shake, chasing the bundle of feathers like it was her mission in life. Her collar jingled madly, her tail pointed up, and her stripes rippled with each movement.

Just as she was getting close to it, I twitched my hand the other way, sending the feathers sailing to the other side of the room. Jazzy skidded to a halt, planting her paws for stability. Then she leaped the other way—only for me to lead her to the other end of the room, then stymie her again. And again, and again.

She let out an annoyed yowl, but continued to chase. She certainly wasn't lacking for energy, and she absolutely wasn't lacking in commitment to the role. No 'this is stupid' this time. Jen, underneath Jazzy, was enraptured.

But she was also getting frustrated with the chase, and yowled again. I grinned, and decided to let her have it by holding up the wire and keeping it still. Now the feathers were right up by the ceiling.

She paused, stalking around it for several seconds as she considered it. Then she jumped and grabbed the feathers in her teeth. “Owr,” she said, with a look of great satisfaction.

“Good kitty!” I scratched her behind her cat ears, and she purred and leaned into it—her back leg even thumped against the floor the way cats did! I was so proud. “Have your treat!”

The treat was a holiday cookie. I tossed it to her and Jazzy caught it in her mouth, releasing the feathers. She devoured it in moments, then looked expectantly at me.

I wagged my finger. “No more treats until you've had your dinner—”

The microwave dinged.

“And there it is!”

I walked over to the microwave, and Jazzy followed with many an eager meow. The bowl I took out was full of soup, not cat food—even in roleplay, especially in roleplay, there were limits—but it could be eaten in catlike fashion. As I lowered the bowl to the floor, Jazzy followed it nose-first the whole time, and when I set it down she immediately got to licking.

(Not as if she could have easily used her hands—they were hidden under great big paws that came separately from the rest of the bodysuit, because otherwise she wouldn't be able to take the suit off. They were effectively bondage mitts.)

I admired her as she went. Her whole body was covered by a short layer of fur, which thinned out at certain key areas—but those areas were covered by a cat keyhole lingerie set, in a white that contrasted nicely against the orange and black fur. I reached out and gave her a few scratches north of her tail, but she ignored them to continue eating. Typical cat.

(Of course, Jen had been pretty active all day. She'd finished up the leftover pizza between roleplay sessions, but I hardly begrudged her more.)

With a sigh, I sat back on the couch and made myself comfortable as the sounds of lapping continued.

In a few minutes, she was done, and I watched her creep over to me. “Mrowr?” she said, looking right at me.

“What? You just ate and you want more treats?”

“Mrowr,” she whined, sitting on her haunches in front of me.

“No. You'll get fat.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Mrow!” She reached up a paw and started batting at my pants.

“Ow! Hey! I don't even have treats in those pockets—” I stopped. “Oh, you want this treat?”

She cocked her head to the side. “Rowr?”

I undid my button, then my zipper. “This treat?” I repeated, loosing my member.

She immediately stopped pawing at my jeans and became alert, pupils widening once again. She settled back on her haunches, wiggling slightly the same way she had with the toy—and then pounced.

“Oh, yes,” I said, eyes almost rolling back in my head. Her tongue was much rougher now than a normal human tongue, nearly to the point of being an unbearable stimulation. Nearly, but not quite. “Good kitty, good—holy shit!”

It was a different experience than getting a blowjob from Jen. Jazzy was playful, licking my shaft rather than sucking it, and even gave a few nibbles that were surprising but not painful. Even after a day of erotic activity, it would have been enough to bring me to orgasm quickly, but Jazzy slowed down as I got closer, drawing the experience out. For all that I was the dom here, I certainly felt like the helpless one.

But when she finally let me release, minutes later, I wasn't complaining. “Good kitty,” I said once I'd stopped pumping, and scratched her behind the ear.

She swallowed, then smiled. “Mrow!” she said proudly.

—

As it turned out, the tiger suit was enormously comfortable—I guess being covered in fur was nice—so Jen just sort of kept wearing it for the rest of the night, even once she was done with playing a cat for the roleplay.

Well, mostly done with playing a cat.

“Ten,” I chanted, watching the ball drop on the TV. “Nine. Eight—come on, count! Seven!”

Jen was curled up on the couch next to me, head on my lap. Her tail twitched—I wasn't sure how she did that, maybe a subtle motion of the hips—and she looked up in time to join me half-heartedly in, “Six. Five. Four.”

The ball neared the bottom of the pole—

“Three! Two! One!”

—and reached it.

“Happy New Year!” I exclaimed as fireworks went off on screen.

“Happy new year,” Jen repeated, and then yawned hugely, showing off teeth the same way a cat would. “Woo. Mrrr.”

I scratched her ear absentmindedly. “Is someone tired?” Auld Lang Syne was playing from the TV.

“Today's been a fuckin' workout, sir.” She stretched out with both hands across my lap, a ripple running through her body. “Lots of fun, though.”

“Thank you too.” I stroked her upper back. “I guess I'd better take those paws off so you can take the suit off, before you go to bed—”

“Nah. It's like being made of blanket. Fuckin' sweet.”

She yawned again, then pushed herself upright and hopped off the couch. On all fours she padded along to the bedroom, and I followed her in time to see her hop up onto the foot of the bed. It sank beneath her weight. “You don't want a pillow?” I asked, as she kneaded at the mattress.

“Made of blanket,” she repeated, kneading for a few more seconds before settling down. She took a moment to tuck her tail around herself, then let her head rest on her arms and paws.

I shrugged, plugged my phone into its charger, stripped down to my boxers, and got into bed with a smile. The blankets were extra snug thanks to Jen's weight.

“Hey, Mark?” Jen said, sounding very sleepy indeed.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks,” she said. “I know I'm... a bit much... and we've had some fights, but....” She yawned. “Today was great. I'd love to do it again.  G'night.”

I lay there in bed, wondering if that had been Jen talking, or Robin. But I didn't wonder for long, because after a minute of waiting I heard Jen snoring deeply. I'd never heard them before.

But in any case, I was grinning. Something interesting about Robin was that she was the most unwakeable person I'd ever met, and the thing was, this meant she wouldn't be able to stop me from executing my plan.

I waited five minutes longer, letting the anticipation build up as I made doubly, triply sure that Jen was asleep. Then I slipped out of bed, walked over to Jen, leaned over her cat ear, and—

I paused, then took Jen's paw-covered hands, and undid the paws. It took a minute of manipulation to reveal Jen's hands underneath, and she didn't stir at all. After that I tugged off the rest of her clothes for good measure, plus her collar.

Now, I whispered in Jen's cat ear: “Erotech override: remove all layers.”

Smoothly, with robotic precision but without opening her eyes, Jen unfolded. Her feet landed on the floor, she stood in a neutral position, and then she reached down to her exposed slit and started pulling. The tiger costume stretched unnaturally, revealing Jen's tan skin beneath, and she pulled both legs out, followed by pulling the costume smoothly up her body until it was fully removed, leaving only Jen.

Within another minute, she'd repeated the procedure, and now Jen was a floppy, hairy piece of rubber on the floor. What was left was the unadorned, mannequin body of the robot. “Erotech override,” I whispered again. “Disengage suit.”

The back opened up with a little hiss, and—

There was Robin. Still blissfully unconscious.

I wasn't surprised to see her, but that didn't mean I wasn't happy. My chest filled with warmth as I eased her naked body out of the robot, onto the bed, and under the covers. She snored throughout the entire procedure, and I knew she wasn't acting.

Then I looked at the suit with an evil grin. Just because I was happy to see her, didn't mean there wasn't a score or two to settle....

—

“Happy New Year, pussy!”

When Robin opened her eyes, it was to a faceful of Jenitals. “Mm?” she managed.

“Good to see you're awake,” I sneered. It came easily. “I brought you breakfast in bed, just like old times. Eat up!”

“Mmff!?” I wasn't sure what was more surprising to her, that I was in Jen or that she wasn't, but either way she sounded shocked. She tried to squirm but couldn't: I was facing the foot of the bed, kneeling with my legs on her arms. It wouldn't hurt, but she wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon. With another moan, much like our college days, she started digging in.

“That's right, I know you love the taste,” I said, letting my hips buck into her face a little. “God, you haven't lost a trick since college!”

“Mmff....” That sounded less surprised and more aroused, as her licking sped up. Yeah, I knew she'd be into it. And if she wasn't, well, in the back of my mind I was listening for any mmfs that sounded like 'pomegranate'.

That was just in the back of my mind. In the front of my mind, Jen had a few questions to ask. “So, I ran into Mark the other day,” I said, and pushed aside the covers to expose the rest of Robin. “You've got yourself a real catch.”

“Mm.”

“Yeah. I thought he was a fuckin' pushover but it turns out he's got something else in him!” I tugged at the collar around my neck: the ballgag, still there. It was a sign of submission to one man—and Robin was not that man. “We had a lot of fun. But, uh....” My voice took on more of an edge. “He seemed kinda pissed with you?”

“Mm?”

“He's out with friends right now, but he wanted me to ask you something for him.” I cupped a hand under Robin's legs, lifting her rear. “I dunno what it means, but what he said was, 'Did you really buy an autonomous model?'”

I straightened my knees just enough for Robin to be able to talk, or rather to heave breaths for a few seconds first. “No,” she said, and I looked down between my legs to see her grinning. “But you can tell him I tipped the employees at Adoration so they would act like I had.”

“Yeah, that's the kinda shit he told me you'd pull.” I grunted, and then brought my other hand up to spank her rear. She yelped. “And could you also tell him why you did that?”

“Well,” she said, her voice a little shaky after the slap, “tell him it was for the fun of getting in character. He'll understand.”

“I bet he fuckin' will.” Another spank, another yelp. “And he had something else he wanted me to say.”

I maneuvered myself off of Robin's arms, only to position myself so I was held up by my arms above her body, putting us face to face. My hair fell loosely around her head. “He says he loves you a lot,” I said, “but don't fuckin' jerk him around like that, okay? He was really trying to do his best to be the person you wanted him to be—and that's a whole 'nother can of fuckin' worms, making him feel like he wasn't good enough as just Mark—but you tricking him, twice in a row, was a dick move.”

But at the same time, I got it. Being able to be in character was so freeing. Just for instance, Jen was having this conversation a lot easier than Mark ever could have. “That's what I heard, anyway,” I finished casually.

“You're right.” Robin took a deep breath. “You're right. It was selfish to lie to you just for my own satisfaction. And I didn't mean to make you feel like you aren't good enough on your own. I'm sorry, Mark, and I love you.”

I tilted my head to the side, genuinely confused. “The fuck you apologizing to me for? Tell sir when he comes back. Right now, you're talking to Jen.”

Her eyes widened. “Sir—mmff?”

I cut her off with my hand on her mouth. “Tell you what,” I said, repositioning myself so that my crotch was over her mouth and my legs pinning her arms again. “While he's out, I'm gonna help you practice that apology real good.” I pulled my hand off her face, but kneeled down to cover it with my folds once more, lip to lip. “I've got all day, and you're gonna be a great fuckin' orator when I'm through with you. Or at least you'll be great at fuckin' orally.”

“Mmff....”

I laughed. “Now eat up, pussy!”