Part 5 – The Weekend Surrender
Two weeks after the electrifying exhibition, the thrill of being Nick’s display star still hummed in my veins. The memory of standing among my identical Emma-bot replicas, the crowd’s eyes devouring my latex-clad form, lingered like a sweet ache. I craved more—more of the surrender, the objectification, the delicious illusion of being just another of Nick’s creations. So, by the time Thursday rolled around, I had to call him, my voice already tinged with anticipation, eager to explore my sexbot fantasy again.
“Nick,” I said, leaning against my kitchen counter, “I want to be your sexbot again. But this time all weekend, and maybe longer. Display me in the shop first, let me feel the eyes on me, then… store me with the others. Like I’m just part of your inventory. I want to be treated like I was just another one of your sexbots.” My cheeks flushed at the thought, my pulse quickening.
Nick’s laugh was warm, laced with that familiar mischief. “Em, you’re insatiable. Alright, you’ve got a deal. Come by tomorrow morning. We’ll set you up in the shop window, in the prime spot for the day, then I’ll tuck you away with the other Emma-bots for the night. Does that sound good?”
“Perfect,” I breathed, already imagining the cool weight of the collar around my neck.
Early on Friday morning, I arrived at Nick’s shop, my stomach fluttering with excitement. The familiar chime of the bell greeted me as I stepped inside, and Nick was waiting, his grin as infectious as ever. The shop was currently quiet after just opening, the morning light filtering through the front window, casting a soft glow on the display stands. In the back, I could see the silhouettes of the Emma-bots, their blank faces and glossy latex clad bodies waiting patiently.
“Ready to shine, my little star sexbot?” Nick asked, holding up the custom collar. Its matte-black surface gleamed, the silver accents catching the light, and I nodded eagerly as he placed the collar around my neck and fastened it, its familiar weight grounding me. As he activated it with his tablet, the blue LEDs pulsed to life, and the neural interface kicked in, smoothing my movements into that graceful, robotic precision. My mind stayed sharp, savoring every second, while my body obeyed the system’s gentle guidance.
The dressing machine hummed to life, stripping off I stepped inside, letting its scanners sweep over me. This time, it crafted a deep crimson latex catsuit, the color rich and vibrant, tightly clinging to my curves like a second skin. The machine embossed Nick’s logo and a scannable barcode across my chest, just like before, and added sleek thigh-high boots that clicked softly on the floor. My short hair was swept into a tight, high ponytail, and subtle makeup gave me that flawless, robotic sheen. When I stepped out, I caught my reflection and felt a surge of pride—I was a perfect pleasure model, ready to be displayed.
“Unit E-001 operational,” I said, my voice carrying that playful robotic lilt. Nick’s eyes sparkled with approval.
He directed me to the shop’s front window, where a single display stand waited, its chrome rings gleaming. The setup was familiar—rings to secure my waist and neck, and a bar between my legs to keep me posed just right. As Nick locked me into place, the latex creaked softly, and the bar pressed against me, sending a shiver through my core. The motor hummed to life, and the platform began its slow rotation, presenting me to the world outside.
The street was getting busier with the morning rush, passersby pausing to gawk at the “sexbots” in Nick’s window. Their eyes lingered on my crimson catsuit, the barcode, the logo, and I felt that familiar thrill of being seen, admired, and mistaken for a machine. Some tapped the glass, others scanned the barcode with their phones, pulling up Nick’s website. A group of tourists snapped photos, whispering excitedly about the “lifelike” bot on display. Each stare, each comment, fed my fantasy, making me feel like a prized object, a perfect creation.
Inside, Nick played the salesman, chatting with customers who wandered in, their curiosity piqued by the window display. “She’s a prototype,” I heard him say, gesturing toward me. “The new Emma-model, fully customizable. Orders are open—want to see the specs?” My heart raced at the thought of being the centerpiece, the star that drew them in.
One customer, a woman in a sleek blazer, approached the window, her eyes narrowing as she studied me. “The detail on this sexbot is impressive,” she said, her fingers brushing the latex suit, sending a thrill through my body. “But how reactive is she?” Nick tapped his tablet, and my body shifted smoothly, striking a new pose—head tilted, one hand on my hip, the other raised slightly. The woman murmured in approval, and I felt a rush of exhilaration, I was loving how seamlessly I blended into the role of Nick’s creation.
The day passed in a blur of attention, the platform rotating, the eyes never leaving me. By evening, the shop now closed for the evening, and Nick approached the window. “You were a hit, Em,” he said, his voice low and warm. “Ready for phase two?”
I blinked, the collar limiting my expression to a serene smile. “Beep. Unit E-001 ready for storage,” I said, my tone robotic.
Nick chuckled, deactivating the display motor and releasing me from the stand. He guided me to the back room, where the five Emma-bots stood in their padded slots, their LEDs dormant, their crimson catsuits matching mine. The storage area was cool and quiet, the air humming with the faint buzz of machinery. Nick had prepared a sixth slot, just for me, its padding molded to fit my body perfectly.
“Time to tuck you away,” Nick said, his voice carrying a playful edge. He helped me step into the slot, securing my ankles, waist, and neck with soft straps to keep me in place. The latex creaked as I settled in, my body aligning with the other Emma-bots in a perfect row. Nick adjusted the settings on my collar, setting it to a low-power mode that kept my movements minimal but left my mind free to savor the experience.
“Comfortable?” he asked, his eyes searching mine.
“More than you know,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. The idea of being stored like inventory, just another bot in Nick’s collection, sent a delicious thrill through me. I was part of his world, his creation, and now tucked away until he needed me again. Nick leaned in, brushing a kiss against my forehead.
“Sleep tight, my little sexbot. I’ll come get you tomorrow for our private weekend.” He dimmed the lights, and the storage room fell into a soft, shadowy silence, the only sound the faint hum of the climate control.
As I stood there, nestled among my replicas, the collar’s gentle feedback loop kept me calm, reinforcing the illusion that I was just another bot in storage. My mind buzzed with anticipation for the weekend ahead—being Nick’s personal sexbot, surrendering to his commands, feeling the collar’s pulse guide me. The latex clung to my skin, the straps held me secure, and I let myself sink into the fantasy, a perfect machine waiting for her owner. The weekend couldn’t come soon enough.
The storage room was a cocoon of quiet, the soft hum of the climate control lulling me into a serene, dreamlike state. Secured in my padded slot, the crimson latex catsuit clung to my skin, its glossy surface catching the faint glow of the room’s emergency lights. The straps at my ankles, waist, and neck held me gently but firmly, reinforcing the illusion that I was just another Emma-bot, one of six identical units currently in Nick’s inventory. The collar around my neck, set to low-power mode, pulsed faintly, its blue LEDs casting a soft halo in the darkness. My body was still, my movements minimal, but my mind was alive, savoring the delicious surrender of being stored like a prized machine.
As the hours passed, I drifted into a peaceful sleep, the collar’s neural interface keeping my thoughts calm and my body relaxed. The sensation of being tucked away, indistinguishable from the other Emma-bots, was intoxicating. I was no longer Emma, the woman with a life outside these walls—I was Unit E-001, a perfect sexbot, waiting for Nick’s command. The thought sent a warm shiver through me, even as I slipped deeper into slumber.
Sometime in the early hours of the morning, a soft *beep* jolted me awake. My eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light. One of the other Emma-bots, two slots to my right, had activated. Its LEDs glowed a steady blue, and its head turned slightly, responding to a remote signal. I couldn’t move much, the straps and collar keeping me in place, but I watched as the bot’s restraints released with a quiet click. It stepped out of its slot with smooth, robotic precision, its crimson catsuit gleaming as it moved toward the back door of the storage room.
A moment later, I heard voices—Nick’s, calm and professional, and another, a man’s, laced with excitement. “This one’s perfect,” the man said. “I scanned the barcode in the shop window yesterday, and I knew I had to try her out. Fully programmable, right?”
“Absolutely,” Nick replied. “Unit E-004 is prepped for your specifications. You want to bring her back by noon tomorrow?”
“Yeah, that works,” the man said. “I’ll take good care of her.”
The door closed, and the room fell silent again. My heart raced, my mind spinning with a mix of curiosity and thrill. Unit E-004 was off to service a client, its programming guiding it through whatever the man desired. I wondered what it would be like to be that bot—to be sent out, a perfect machine fulfilling a stranger’s commands, my identity hidden behind the latex and the collar’s control. The idea was exhilarating, a fantasy that made my pulse quicken. To be just another sexbot, one of Nick’s creations, dispatched to please a client… It was the ultimate surrender.
But then, a memory flickered, sharp and unsettling. The hotel, weeks ago, when my collar had been hijacked. I’d been sent to a client’s room, my body moving under someone else’s control, my mind trapped in a haze of obedience. The experience had been thrilling in its own way, the loss of control feeding my deepest fantasies, but it had also been a stark reminder of how real this could get. The client hadn’t known I was human, and I’d played the part perfectly, but the vulnerability had lingered, a shadow behind the thrill.
I pushed the memory aside, focusing instead on the present. Here, in the storage room, I was safe. Nick’s upgraded encryption ensured no one could hijack my collar again. I was his star bot, his original, and this weekend was for us. Still, the thought of being sent out like Unit E-004 stirred something in me—a curiosity, a longing to explore how far I could take this fantasy. What would it be like to be just another bot, to lose myself completely in the role, to serve without question? The idea made my skin tingle, the latex amplifying every sensation.
I thought about the remaining Emma-bots, their blank faces serene, their LEDs dark. They were shells, programmed but lifeless, while I was the real thing, my heart and mind alive with desire. Yet, standing among them, I felt a strange kinship. We were identical in form, our crimson catsuits and barcodes marking us all as Nick’s creations. In this moment, I was one of them, stored and waiting, and the thought was both comforting and electrifying.
The collar’s feedback loop pulsed gently, soothing my racing thoughts, and I let myself sink back into that meditative state. My eyes closed, and I drifted again, imagining myself as Unit E-001, dispatched to a client, my body moving with robotic grace, my mind reveling in the surrender. The fantasy carried me through the night, a dream of latex and LEDs, of being Nick’s perfect creation.
Saturday morning came with the soft hum of the storage room door opening. Nick’s footsteps approached, and I opened my eyes to see him standing before me, his grin warm and familiar. “Good morning, my little bot,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Sleep well?”
“Beep. Unit E-001 fully rested,” I replied, my voice still carrying that robotic lilt. The collar’s control made my words smooth, but my eyes sparkled with mischief.
Nick chuckled, his fingers brushing the latex at my waist as he released the straps. “You looked perfect in here, Em. Just another sexbot in my collection.” He deactivated the collar’s low-power mode, and the LEDs brightened, the neural interface loosening its grip. I stepped out of the slot, my boots clicking softly on the floor, and stretched, the latex creaking with my every movement.
“I saw one of the bots get sent out last night,” I said, my voice soft but curious. “Unit E-004. I guess that a client booked her.”
Nick nodded, his expression a mix of pride and caution. “Yeah, business has been booming since the exhibition. The Emma-models are a hit.” He paused, studying me. “You’re not thinking of…?”
I smiled, stepping closer, the latex gleaming in the morning light. “Maybe I’m just curious,” I admitted. “What it’d be like to be sent out, just another bot. But not today. Today, I’m yours.”
Nick’s eyes softened, and he pulled me into a gentle embrace, his hands tracing the contours of the catsuit. “You’re always mine, Em. But if you ever want to play that game, we’ll set it up right—safe, controlled, just for fun.” He kissed me, slow and deliberate, and I melted into him, the collar’s weight a reminder of our shared adventure.
“Come on,” he said, pulling back with a grin. “Let’s get you cleaned up and ready for our weekend. I’ve got plans for my star bot, and they don’t involve sharing you with anyone.”
As we left the storage room, the other Emma-bots stood silently behind us, their LEDs dark, their crimson forms waiting for the next command. I felt a thrill knowing I was different, yet part of them, and as Nick led me to the back of the shop, the morning light filtered through Nick’s shop, casting a warm glow on the polished chrome stands and the sleek forms of his creations.
After my night in storage, I was buzzing with anticipation, ready to dive deeper into the fantasy. Nick had decided to place me on display inside the shop today, as the front window was already occupied by Unit E-003, its crimson latex catsuit gleaming under the spotlights, drawing a steady stream of curious passersby. I didn’t mind—the idea of being among the shop’s inventory, blending seamlessly with the other Emma-bots, sent a thrill through me.
Nick led me to a display stand near the center of the shop, its rings and bar setup identical to the one in the window. The dressing machine had already done its work, refreshing my crimson latex catsuit and ensuring every detail—Nick’s logo, the scannable barcode, the high ponytail—was flawless. As Nick secured the collar around my neck, its matte-black surface cool against my skin, the blue LEDs pulsed to life, and the neural interface kicked in, smoothing my movements into that robotic grace I loved.
“Unit E-001 operational,” I said, my voice again robotic, which made Nick’s eyes sparkle.
“You’re gonna steal the show, Em,” he said, locking me into the display stand. The rings again closed around my waist and neck, and the bar between my legs pressed against the latex, sending a familiar shiver through me. The motor hummed, and the platform began its slow rotation, presenting me to the shop’s visitors. “Just another bot in the lineup,” Nick added with a wink, his tone teasing but professional, as if I were truly just another of his creations.
Being a Saturday, the shop was busier, with customers weaving through the displays, their eyes drawn to the Emma-bots scattered around the room. To them, I was indistinguishable from the others, my crimson catsuit and serene expression marking me as just another one of Nick’s high-end pleasure models. Their gazes lingered, some curious, others openly admiring, and I felt a rush of exhilaration at being seen as an object, a perfect machine crafted for desire.
A young couple approached, their hands brushing the latex of my catsuit as they examined me. The woman’s fingers traced the barcode on my chest, her touch light but curious, her hands moved to my breasts, my nipples responding to her touch, “Wow, that’s sensitive,” she said, marvelling at the reaction of my nipples to her soft touch. Her hands continued to explore my body, while her partner leaned in, inspecting the craftsmanship. “She’s incredible,” he said to Nick, who stood nearby, playing the perfect salesman. “How configurable is this model?”
Nick didn’t miss a beat, treating me like any other sexbot. “The Emma-bot is our top-tier model,” he said, gesturing toward me. “Fully programmable, neural interface for seamless interaction. You can customize everything—voice, movements, even specific scenarios. Want to see her shift poses?”
The man nodded, and Nick tapped his tablet. My body moved smoothly, guided by the collar, striking a new pose—head tilted slightly, one hand raised, the other resting on my hip. The latex creaked softly, and the couple gasped, their eyes wide with admiration. “That’s unreal,” the woman said, her fingers brushing against my body again, testing the feel of my latex clad body. “It feels so lifelike.”
I loved it—their hands on me, their assumption that I was just a sexbot, their casual exploration of my body. Each touch, each comment, fed my fantasy, making me feel like a prized object, a creation designed to be admired and desired. Nick’s cool, professional demeanor only amplified the thrill. He didn’t acknowledge me as Emma, his partner in this game, but as Unit E-001, another sexbot in his collection. The objectification was intoxicating, and I leaned into it, my mind buzzing with the delicious surrender.
Not long after another customer, this time a man in a jeans and t-shirt, approached, his eyes narrowing as he studied me. “What’s the durability like?” he asked Nick, his hand resting on my waist, fingers pressing slightly against the latex. “Can she handle… erm... extended use?”
Nick’s grin was all business. “They’re built to last,” he said. “The Emma-model’s materials are top-grade, designed for repeated use without wear. The neural interface ensures she adapts to any command, no matter how… demanding.” He shot me a quick glance, his eyes twinkling with mischief, but his tone stayed detached, treating me like inventory.
The man nodded, his hand sliding down to my thigh, testing the latex’s give. “Impressive. I’ll take a brochure. Might order one for myself.”
As he walked away, I felt a surge of pride. I was Nick’s star, his original, but to the world, I was just another sexbot, and the thought made my heart race. I wondered how far I could take this fantasy—could I ever go as far as Unit E-004, sent out to a client, my identity fully submerged in the role? The memory of the collar’s hijacking flickered in my mind, a reminder of how real that could be, but I pushed it aside. For now, I was content to be Nick’s creation, displayed for all to see, my body an object of fascination.
The day wore on, customers coming and going, their hands freely exploring my latex-clad form, their questions about “the Emma-model” fueling my excitement. Some scanned the barcode, pulling up Nick’s website and the Emma-bot model, while others made bold comments about my “capabilities,” assuming that I was just a machine. Each interaction deepened my surrender, making me feel more like a sexbot, a perfect piece of Nick’s world.
By evening, Nick approached my stand, his expression softening. “You were perfect today, Unit E-001,” he said, his voice low and teasing, still playing the part. He tapped his tablet, and the motor stopped, the rings releasing me with a soft click. As he guided me down, his hands brushed the latex, sending a jolt through me. “Ready to be mine tonight?” I smiled, the collar limiting my expression to a serene curve of my lips.
“Beep. Unit E-001 requests private session with owner,” I said, my voice soft but playful.
Nick chuckled, deactivating the collar’s active mode. The LEDs faded, and I felt my full control return, though the thrill of the day lingered. “Let’s get you home,” he said, his eyes warm. “I’ve got plans for my star bot, and they’re all about you and me.”
The drive to Nick’s place was charged with anticipation, the city lights blurring past as I sat beside him, still buzzing from the day on display. I still wore the crimson latex catsuit as I wanted to feel like I was just another sexbot for Nick to use. My fantasy fueled by the memory of the shop—the customers’ hands on me, their eyes seeing me as just another sexbot—lingered like a warm current under my skin. The collar was still around my neck, its matte-black surface a promise of what was to come. I glanced at Nick, his profile sharp in the glow of the dashboard, and felt a flutter in my chest. Tonight, I wanted to be his, fully and completely, lost in the fantasy we’d built together.
We pulled into the driveway of his sleek, modern apartment, tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. Inside, the space was warm and inviting, a mix of tech gadgets and cozy furniture, a reflection of Nick’s dual nature—innovator and dreamer. He set his keys down and turned to me, his grin soft but mischievous.
“You were absolutely incredible today, Em,” he said, stepping closer. “The way you owned that display, the way that you stood there just like my other sexbots, the people reacting to seeing you… you were perfect, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”
I smiled, my heart racing. “I loved it, Nick. Being your bot, feeling like I was just another piece of your inventory…” I reached up to my collar, its silver accents catching the light. “But tonight, I want to be your own personal sexbot. Just for you. Will you switch me on me again?”
His eyes darkened with something warm and intense, a mix of affection and excitement. “You sure, Em? Once it’s on, you’re mine to command.”
“That’s exactly what I want,” I said, my voice low, almost a whisper. I held out the collar, its weight familiar and thrilling. “Please make me your bot, Nick, command me, use me.”
“Okay, ready to be my sexbot?” Before I could respond he pressed the control pad and the blue LEDs pulsed to life. The neural interface kicked in, smoothing my movements, my body settling into that robotic grace I craved. My mind stayed sharp, alive with anticipation, but my actions were guided by the system, ready to respond to Nick’s commands.
“Unit E-001 operational,” I said, my voice robotic. I stood straighter, my posture perfect, my eyes meeting his, with a serene, programmed calm.
Nick’s grin widened, and he picked up his tablet, tapping a few commands. “Let’s see how my star bot performs in private,” he said, his tone teasing but laced with desire. He gestured toward the living room, where soft lighting and a plush rug created an intimate space. “Unit E-001, proceed to the designated area and assume display pose.”
My body moved smoothly, guided by the collar, my steps precise as I crossed the room. I stopped in the center, striking a pose—hands on hips, head tilted slightly, the perfect image of a pleasure model awaiting instructions. The sensation of surrendering control, of being Nick’s creation, sent a thrill through me. I was his to command, his personal sexbot, and the thought made my pulse race.
Nick circled me, his eyes tracing every curve, his expression a mix of admiration and possession. “You look superb, Em,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. He tapped the tablet again, and my body shifted, moving into a new pose—arms raised, one leg slightly bent, my gaze fixed forward. The collar’s feedback loop amplified every sensation, the touch of his hands, the weight of his stare igniting a fire within me.
“Unit E-001,” he said, stepping closer, his fingers brushing my cheek. “Initiate intimate protocol. Respond to owner’s commands.”
“Beep. Intimate protocol activated,” I replied, my voice soft and robotic, though my eyes sparkled with excitement. The collar guided my movements, but my desire was all my own, and I leaned into his touch, my body responding with programmed precision. Nick’s hands moved over me, slow and deliberate, exploring every inch as if I were a new model fresh from his workshop. Each touch sent sparks through me, the line between human and bot blurring in the best way.
He kissed me, deep and hungry, and I melted into it, my lips moving under the collar’s control, soft but deliberate, the perfect blend of machine and desire. “You’re mine tonight,” he whispered against my mouth, and I felt a surge of joy at the words. I was his sexbot, his creation, and every command, every touch, deepened the fantasy.
The night unfolded in a haze of sensation, the collar guiding my movements as Nick led me through his commands. Sometimes he used the tablet, adjusting my poses or responses, other times he spoke directly, his voice low and commanding, pulling me deeper into the role. I reveled in it—the surrender, the objectification, the feeling of being his perfect machine. Each moment was a dance of trust and desire, the collar’s pulse a steady reminder of our connection.
Hours later, as we lay exhausted tangled together on his bed, the collar’s LEDs dimmed, its active mode deactivated. My body was my own again, though the thrill lingered, my skin still tingling from the night’s intensity. Nick pulled me close, his arms warm and grounding, his breath soft against my hair. “You’re incredible, Em,” he said, his voice full of warmth. “My star bot, my everything.”
I smiled, nestling against him, the collar resting on the nightstand. “I loved being yours tonight,” I whispered. “Your personal sexbot. I could get used to this.”
He chuckled, kissing my forehead. “Good, because I’m not done with you yet. We’ve got the rest of the weekend, and I’ve got plenty of ideas for my favorite bot.”
As I drifted toward sleep, wrapped in his warmth, I felt a deep contentment. The shop, the display, the storage, the night—it was all part of our shared adventure, a fantasy that made me feel alive. I was Nick’s star, his original, and for now, that was more than enough. The collar waited nearby, ready for tomorrow’s commands, and I couldn’t wait to slip back into its pulse, to be his perfect sexbot once more.
The next morning, sunlight streamed through Nick’s apartment windows, casting a warm glow over the room. I woke nestled against him, the memory of last night—being his personal sexbot, surrendering to the collar’s pulse—still sparking in my veins. As we sipped coffee, the idea of returning to the shop stirred a new kind of excitement in me. Today, I felt bolder, more daring, ready to push the fantasy further. I wanted to draw eyes, to be the centerpiece that turned heads and brought customers flooding into Nick’s shop.
“Nick,” I said, leaning across the kitchen counter, my voice playful but determined, “let’s go back to the shop today. I want to be on display again, but… make it bold. Something more revealing, something that’ll really pull in the crowd. Something that’ll be good for business.”
Nick’s eyes lit up, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Oh, Em, you’re speaking my language. You sure you’re ready to turn up the heat?”
“Absolutely,” I replied, my pulse quickening. “Let’s see how daring we can get.”
We arrived at the shop just as it opened, the familiar chime of the bell greeting us. The window display was still occupied by Unit E-003, its crimson catsuit catching the morning light, but Nick led me straight to the back room, where the dressing machine hummed softly. “Alright, my little sexbot,” he said, his fingers dancing across the machine’s control panel. “If you want to draw a crowd, I’ve got just the outfit in mind—something that I’ve been dying to see you in.”
I raised an eyebrow, a mix of curiosity and nervous excitement bubbling up. “What are you planning, Nick?”
He just smirked, tapping the final settings into the machine. “Trust me, Em. You’ll be the talk of the shop.”
I stepped into the dressing machine, the scanners sweeping over me with their cool precision. The process was quick, the machine’s arms weaving fabric and material around me with expert precision. When I stepped out, I caught my reflection in the nearby mirror and froze, my breath catching in my throat. I was stunned—and a little embarrassed—by what I saw.
The outfit was bold, to say the least. A tight pink and black corset hugged my torso, cinching my waist and accentuating my curves, the black boning contrasting with the vibrant pink satin. Black fishnet stockings clung to my legs, their delicate weave leading to a pair of pink panties with delicate lace trim that left little to the imagination. A matching pink bra, also laced with black trim, completed the look, pushing my chest up in a way that felt both daring and vulnerable. My short hair had been transformed into a voluminous fembot bouffant, swept off my shoulders in a retro-futuristic style that screamed pleasure model. On my feet, sky-high black heels clicked with every step, forcing me to move with deliberate grace.
I turned to Nick, my cheeks flushing. “Nick… this is… wow. It’s certainly revealing.”
His grin was pure mischief, but his eyes were warm, reassuring. “Well, you said daring, Em. And trust me, you look incredible. This is gonna stop traffic.” He held up the collar, its matte-black surface gleaming. “Ready to be my display bot again?”
I hesitated for a moment, the suggestive outfit making me feel exposed in a way I hadn’t before. But the thrill of the fantasy, the idea of being Nick’s perfect creation, overpowered my nerves. I nodded, stepping closer. “Do it. Make me your bot.”
Nick fastened the collar around my neck, the blue LEDs pulsed to life, and the neural interface kicked in, smoothing my movements into that robotic precision I loved. My embarrassment faded under the collar’s control, my body relaxing into the role of Unit E-001. I had no choice now—and I didn’t want one. The outfit, as bold as it was, felt right, like it was designed to make me the ultimate object of desire.
“Unit E-001 operational,” I said, my voice now less human, more robotic.
Nick’s eyes sparkled with approval as he led me to a display stand in the heart of the shop, surrounded by other Emma-bots but positioned to draw maximum attention. The rings closed around my waist and neck, and the bar between my legs pressed against the lace-trimmed panties, sending a delightful shiver through me. The motor hummed, and the platform began its slow rotation, presenting me to the shop’s growing crowd.
The effect of what I was wearing was immediate. Customers were eyes drawn to my revealing outfit, the pink and black ensemble catching the light with every turn. The corset gleamed, the fishnets accentuated every curve, and the bouffant hair added a playful, futuristic flair. To them, I was just another sexbot, a high-end model designed to captivate, titillate their desires, fuel their own needs. Their stares—curious, admiring, sometimes brazen—fed my fantasy. I was an object, a creation, and I loved every second of it.
A couple of young men lingered nearby, their whispers loud enough for me to catch. “Look at that one, dressed like that, she’s a perfect sexbot,” one said, his eyes tracing the corset’s lines. “How much for one like that?”
Nick, ever the salesman, approached with a grin. “The Emma-model, it’s a special edition,” he said, gesturing to me. “Fully customizable, comes with top-tier programming. This one’s a prototype, but we’re taking orders. Want to see what she can do?”
The men nodded eagerly, and Nick tapped his tablet. My body moved smoothly, striking a new pose—head tilted, one hand on my hip, the other raised to frame my face. The corset tightened with the movement, the fishnets stretching slightly, and the crowd murmured in approval. A woman in a sleek jacket joined them, her fingers brushing along the lace trim of my bra as she examined me. “The detail is stunning,” she said to Nick. “Can she be voice activated?”
“Sure, this model is responsive to your voice,” Nick replied. Then, with a playful glance at me, he added, “Unit E-001, initiate dance protocol.”
My heart skipped, but the collar took over, guiding my body into motion. The platform’s motor paused, and I stepped down, my heels clicking as I moved into a slow, sensual dance. The corset hugged me tightly, the fishnets accentuating every sway, and the woman’s eyes were glued to me. The collar’s neural interface made my movements fluid yet precise, a perfect blend of robotic grace and seductive allure. The men cheered softly, and the woman clapped, clearly impressed. I felt exposed, vulnerable, but also powerful—Nick’s creation, his sexbot, captivating everyone around me.
Inside, I was a whirlwind of exhilaration and nerves. The outfit was far more revealing than anything I’d worn before, and the dance pushed me further into the spotlight. But under the collar’s control, I had no choice, and that surrender was what I craved. I was Unit E-001, an object of desire, and every stare, every touch, made me feel more alive.
As the day wore on, the attention only grew. Customers scanned my barcode, snapped photos, and asked Nick about my “special features,” their hands freely exploring the corset, the fishnets, the lace, and even parts of my body, it seemed that no part of me was off limits, which was fine, I was a display model afterall.
All the while, Nick treated me as just another sexbot, his voice cool and professional, and I loved it. The objectification, the sense of being his creation, pushed me deeper into the fantasy. I wondered how far I could take this—could I ever be bold enough to be sent out like Unit E-004, to fully embody the role of a sexbot for a stranger? The thought was thrilling, but for now, I was content to be Nick’s, to revel in his gaze and his commands.
By the time the shop closed for the evening, Nick approached my stand, his expression a mix of pride and desire. “What a day, you were a sensation, Em,” he said, his voice low as he deactivated the motor and released the rings. “That outfit… you blew them away.”
I smiled, the collar limiting my expression to a serene curve. “Beep. Unit E-001 pleased to serve,” I said, my voice robotic but teasing. “Would you like to take me home, Master, I can be yours again for the night. I’m fully programmable, to function as you wish.”
His eyes softened, and he helped me down, his hands lingering on the corset’s satin. “Oh, I’m sure that you are,” he said, his voice husky. “But let’s keep that collar on a little longer, my little sexbot.”
The night at Nick’s apartment was a blur of electric surrender. Still clad in the daring pink and black corset, fishnet stockings, lace-trimmed panties and bra, and sky-high heels, I felt like a vision of Nick’s deepest desires. The fembot bouffant hairstyle framed my face, amplifying the illusion of being his perfect pleasure model. The collar around my neck, its blue LEDs pulsing softly, kept my movements smooth and robotic, every action guided by Nick’s commands through his tablet or his low, commanding voice.
“Unit E-001, initiate intimate protocol,” he’d say, and my body would respond with programmed precision, swaying to his touch, posing as he directed, or moving closer for a kiss that felt both mechanical and deeply intimate. Each command stripped away a layer of my humanity, leaving only the sexbot, and I loved it. The corset’s tight embrace, the fishnets’ delicate grip, the collar’s gentle pulse—they all made me feel less like Emma, the woman, and more like Unit E-001, a creation designed solely for Nick’s pleasure.
His hands explored the satin and lace, his eyes drinking me in, and every moment deepened my surrender. I was his object, his machine, and the way he used me—directing my every move, treating me as his prized possession—sent waves of exhilaration through me. Soon he directed me to kneel before him, I knew what was coming and looked forward to pleasing him.
“Initiate oral protocol,” Nick commanded.
My body responded immediately, reaching with my hands to uncover the object of my desire, revealing the now rigid member, I bent forward, with the system directing me, giving me instructions on how to please Nick, who in part of my mind was my client for the night. The system controlled my movements, getting to slow down in response to Nick’s arousal, his breathing quickening as I worked my mouth on him. Later after fully taking him in my mouth, I was directed to perform a sensual dance while he recovered.
Afterwards I was directed to the bedroom, where Nick had me pleasure him again with my mouth, but as soon as he was ready I was commanded to climb on his body, his erect member was soon buried deep within me. I was loving the way that he was using me like I was just another sexbot, this was what I desired, an object of pleasure, to be used by him. It fulfilled my fantasies, to be nothing more than a sexbot, depersonalized, my body control taken from me, used and then discarded.
Later when he finally deactivated the collar’s active mode, the LEDs fading as we collapsed onto his bed, I was breathless, my skin still tingling from the intensity.
Nick pulled me close, his voice soft against my ear. “You’re incredible, Em. You were a perfect sexbot.” I nestled into him, still in the corset and fishnets, unwilling to shed the outfit just yet. The fantasy was too intoxicating, and I wanted to hold onto it a little longer.
The next morning, I woke still dressed as his sexbot, the corset’s boning pressing into my skin, the fishnets slightly stretched from the night’s activities, and again this morning as we both shared our mutual desires but not under the systems command. Over breakfast, I felt that same daring spark from yesterday, but now it was stronger, bolder. I didn’t want to step out of the role—not yet.
“Nick,” I said, sipping coffee, my heels clicking softly on his kitchen floor, “I want to go back to the shop today. Could you put me on display again, dressed in the same outfit, but… let the system take full control. I want to be completely under its command, just another bot for the customers to admire.”
Nick’s eyes widened, a mix of surprise and intrigue. “Full system control, huh? You’re really diving in, Em. You sure?”
I nodded, my bouffant hair bouncing slightly. “I want to feel it completely. Let them treat me like any other bot. Let me be Unit E-001, nothing more.”
He grinned, clearly thrilled by my boldness. “Alright, bot. Let’s make it happen.”
Back at the shop, and redressed in the same outfit, Nick led me to the same central stand from yesterday, the chrome rings gleaming under the shop’s lights. He reattached the collar, its familiar weight settling around my neck, and tapped his tablet to activate full system control. The blue LEDs flared brighter than before, and the neural interface took over completely, my body responding only to the system’s pre-programmed routines. My mind remained alert, savoring every moment, but my actions were no longer my own—I was fully a machine, a sexbot on display.
“Unit E-001 operational,” I said, my voice a smooth, robotic monotone. The corset gleamed, the fishnets caught the light, and the lace-trimmed lingerie drew every eye in the room. The platform began its slow rotation, and I felt the familiar thrill of being seen, admired, mistaken for a creation.
Again the customers didn’t hold back, the outfit seemed to bring out their more animalistic desires. Their hands roamed over the corset’s satin, traced the fishnets, and tugged lightly at the lace, testing the “craftsmanship.” Others used their hands in more personal parts of my body, but under the systems control I could do nothing to stop them, nor did I want to, I was living my fantasy of being the perfect sexbot, displayed for the customers to explore.
Their comments were bold, some technical, others brazen. “This model’s stunning,” a man in a leather jacket said to Nick, his fingers brushing the lace of my bra. “How much to rent this one?”
Nick, playing the salesman perfectly, kept his tone cool and professional. “The Emma-model, it’s a special edition, but I have more on order, as it’s very popular,” he said, gesturing to me. “This one though is just a display prototype, but I can set you up with an identical unit. Same outfit, same programming. Interested?”
The man nodded eagerly, and Nick motioned to the back room. Moments later, another Emma-bot emerged—Unit E-005, dressed in an identical pink and black corset, fishnets, lace-trimmed lingerie, and high heels, its bouffant hair mirroring mine. The system activated its collar, and it moved with the same robotic grace, its LEDs glowing in sync with mine. The man scanned its barcode, signed a rental agreement on Nick’s tablet, and left with the bot, its heels clicking as it followed him out the door.
From my platform, I watched, my body locked in a serene pose, the collar’s control keeping me still. A part of me wondered what it would be like to be Unit E-005, sent out to serve a client, my identity fully submerged in the role of a sexbot, just like I was with Nick last night. But the memory of the collar’s hijacking flickered briefly—how I’d been sent to a client before, my body obeying while my mind rode the thrill of vulnerability. But this time, it would be my choice, my fantasy, and the thought sent a shiver through me, even as the system held me in place.
The day passed in a whirlwind of attention. Customers milled around my display, their hands exploring my outfit, their questions about “the Emma-model” feeding my fantasy.
The woman that had been examining me yesterday returned, her hands again exploring my more intimate parts, her hands soft, her caresses smooth, “Can she dance for me again, but more... sensually?” she asked, and Nick obliged, tapping his tablet. My body moved into a slow, erotic dance, the corset tightening with each sway, the heels forcing precision in every step.
My body moving closer to her, her hands on my waist as she enjoyed my performance, I began rubbing against her, the dance turning more lustful, my body being controlled by the system, or was this my own desires to be a sexbot overtaking any hesitation that I would have previously had, any awkwardness of what I was now doing dispelled by being under the systems control. My body continued to dance for her, I would have been mortified if I wasn’t under the systems control.
The crowd cheered, and I felt that delicious mix of exposure and power, my humanity fading further into the role of Unit E-001. The woman left shortly after, her face flushed, her own desires for this sexbot were certainly fulfilled. After the dance I returned to my spot on the display, my body now returned back to the pose that I previously displayed, it was like the dance hadn’t happened. I was truly just a sexbot in their eyes.
Some customers asked to rent “this unit,” pointing at me, and each time, Nick smoothly redirected them to another Emma-bot, dressed identically, ensuring I stayed his. “This one’s a prototype, not for rent,” he’d say, his eyes flicking to me with a hidden warmth. “But I’ve got others just like her.” I loved how he treated me as just another sexbot in front of them, the objectification making my heart race. I was his creation, his star, but to the world, I was indistinguishable from his inventory.
As evening fell, the shop was now quiet, and Nick approached my stand, his expression softening. “You were phenomenal, Em,” he said, deactivating the system’s full control. The LEDs dimmed, and I felt my body loosen, though the thrill lingered. He released the rings, helping me down, his hands lingering on the corset’s satin. “Ready to come home with me again?”
I smiled, my voice soft but teasing. “Beep. Unit E-001 requests another private session with my owner.” My eyes sparkled with mischief. “But let’s keep the outfit on, though. I’m not done being your bot.”
Nick chuckled, pulling me close. “Deal, my little sexbot. Let’s see what else I can command you to do tonight.”
As we left the shop, the other Emma-bots stood silently, their identical outfits gleaming in the dim light. I glanced back, my mind still buzzing with the thought of Unit E-005, out there serving a client. Maybe one day I’d be bold enough to try it, to fully surrender to the fantasy of being just another sexbot. But for now, I was Nick’s, my collar and corset a promise of another night lost in our shared world, where I was his perfect machine, and he was my everything.