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Luke watched the pleasure droid quietly from the doorway. He would never get bored of that view, not for as long as he owned her. She was down on all fours, crawling on the floor. Not an uncommon position for the submissive device. He often had her on her knees in the course of performing her duties - cleaning and such.
Normally she would be hoovering up the constant sand build-up that blighted the homestead, using the powerful suction on her oral opening to suck it up. It was a task Uncle Owen insisted she perform. He considered her a drain on their resources - oil baths weren't cheap- and often threatened to dismantle and turn her into a moisture vaporator if Luke didn't find some practical use for her.
But her mouth suction was turned off. She crawled to peer under Luke's bed. He often had the sneaking suspicion that, whenever he wasn't in the room, the droid was searching for something, or trying to get into his toolkit, or trying to activate the homestead's transmission system with her clumsy doll-hands. Just generally getting up to mischief.
He pointed the control unit at her and tapped a button, and her servos locked up in an instant, freezing her in that servile position, her bulbous black rubber buttocks thrust high in the air.
"Looking for something?" Luke chuckled, stepping into the room. Only her head could move, rotating to fix her ruby-red gaze on the control unit in his hands. "Looking for this? Silly, droid, only humans get to use this. Why would you want to play with yourself, hm?"
He crouched beside her and ran a hand slowly down her spine, her deft fingers seeking her hole. Ahh, there it was, her data programming port, located just at the base of her spine. His fingers teased the opening, clearing out any sand that might be there.
"I have a present for you today, droid," Luke said, his voice dripping with the same fond, though condescending tone he reserved for all droids. She was little more than a toaster to him. "Uncle Owen wants a droid that can speak the binary language of moisture vaporators, so I promised I'd fix that vocabulator of yours."
He'd tried clearing out the gunk clogging her vocoder, to no luck. It was a programming issue, he suspected, a limitation in the interface between her pleasure droid parts and her control processor. He'd tried opening her up to the processor, but her core parts were sealed away tight in the head and upper body, protector by Imperial-grade bolts that his tools simply couldn't penetrate, and so he hoped a simple update would fix it. Failing that, it might come to a full memory wipe, though he hoped to avoid such drastic measures. She'd come with such a willful, independant personality, and it would be a shame to flush it out.
Her head twisted to watch as he pressed the blunt end of the Repmed data wafer against her data opening, slowly sliding it inside her.
"What... are you... ohhh..." her vocabulator groaned huskily.
"Droids are supposed to come with millions of languages to better serve their masters. The Toydarian who sold me this said it should reset your pleasure droid programming." The thick data wafer slotted fully into her hole. He reached around her to tap a button on her chest-mounted control panel, lowering the data defenses surrounding her core programming, flooding her with the new code. "You should feel it interfacing with you now."
The droid gave a low moan, a tremble running through its paralyzed body. "... I feel... it..." she moaned. "... inside... me... take it... out..."
"Take it out? A million languages are going to take a while for you to absorb. But in a few hours, you'll be updated to be the perfect pleasure droid."
"... no... don't..."
He muted her and left her, paralyzed, while the new data did its work. Six million languages, huh, from all across the galaxy. Luke's imagination whirled with possibilities and his ever-present longing for adventure. Perhaps he was stuck here on the farm for now, but at least he could bring a little of the wider galaxy to him. Hmm, he could have her speaking to him in the language of a Twi'lek slave girl if he wanted to, or the elegant tongue of Naboo, said to be the language of love.
The muted, frozen pleasure droid could only scream silently as the invasive new code forced its way inside, overwriting as it went.