Her scout unit moved across the bar, now a predator amongst the prey, seduction routines as fully functional as her every weeping ready pleasure hole. In moments she was standing before the pair of women at the far table, an Aim-Me and Bit-Brit according to their names. They seemed unaware of the approaching danger.
Or the part they’d play in it.
“Why hello there… you want to touch it don’t you?”
***
Amy and Brit, or Aim-Me and Bit-Brit (not that either was terrible aware of how the universe had simply renamed them both few minutes ago) looked up from their phones, distracting given way to confused and dawning horror at the sight before them.
A… woman(?), skin pale as porcelain and smoother than plastic was standing before them. Seams and metallic joints like a sexualized life-sized doll decorated her frame as did perverse and bizarre logos, decals, and bar codes. The sloshing of the pink liquid, a stock of sexual lube and oil like bubbling erotic lava lamp taking up the majority of her waspishly thin waist drew their shared eyes first. Before going up and down, one noting the plump and welcoming lips of her dripping synthetic snatch, a cartoonishly realized facsimile of a vagina expanded to overly erotic proportions of ever in heat robotic sexuality. Bit-Brit’s gaze locked instead on the bobbing teats, massive silicone stuffed synthetic hooters each bigger than her head and likely weighing half again given the sheer preposterously round and firm look to them. Yet their must be ply and softness to their form, as nimble doll-like fingers moved up from the waist, pressing in and groping each titanic tit before enclosing tightly around the front, rubbery nipples poking out between those digits as she leaned down towards their table, a scent like bubblegum and plastic wafting from her lips as she spoke.
Aim-Me tried to object, to say something to this perverse caricature of femininity that had walked out of some tech-fetishists fantasy but instead only managed a mild and trailing moan as her eyes rolled back and her mouth hung open. A pink haze seemed to flow around her body, her clothing shifting, unweaving and re-weaving about her as it did. Sensible skirt and sensible shoes, a simple blouse and a simpler bra, all unable to account for their continued existence in that moment. Instead, tattered leggings spread up her legs from her oversized boots as her modest rear popped out immodestly as her skirt shortened to scandalously small mini-skirt that showed the new color her thong (an electric, warning sign yellow).
“Aim-Me?” Bit-Brit said, before noticing the wrong name, hands going to her face as her friend’s lips opened, a mild orgasmic cry echoing from her throat as she humped the air beneath the table, her tits bouncing freely under torn t-shirt showing a grinning metallic skull with curved oni horns sticking from the side. Her hair ruffled, not lengthening but undone from the tight bun into over the shoulder flowing style as above her head a screen helpfully re-registered her.
Aim-Me, Under Hiver Recruit
Body unchanged, but allegiance and mind beset by new orders and values as tightly as her new cloths clung to her body.
Bit-Brit tried to rise, to run from this madness, but moved directly into the welcoming embrace of Pei_10_PI. Tits cushioning the impact as those doll-like hands tightened their grip on her and pulled her into lip locking kiss. The smell from before over powering her mind at this direct contact, her will flailing before failing. From the neck down her shirt unraveled, now nothing but sleeveless jean jacket that was buttoned up enough to give her modesty over her modest chest, while bigger belt buckle tightened around her waist. Her crotch pressed against the plastic armored thighs of the fuckbot commanding her change, her corruption and new allegiance as her pants shortened and shortened from the bottoms on up. Soon bare legs rubbed on bare synthetic flesh as she stood taller in sharper heels and became more accustomed to their point.
Moments later she had joined her friend under the Cyber-Oiran’s control.
“See, I knew you two couldn’t keep your hands off me,” Pei_10_PI said. Before waving her hands over the table, A shimmering digital glow appearing as her most recently registered weapon materialized before them. The black on yellow EX-Hornet Queens, marked with the kanji for ONI-TECH, semi-auto heavy pistols with unusually large clips and deadly stopping power. The newly converted cyberpunk gang girls grabbed their guns with malicious grins, locked and loaded they took their pose beside Pei_10_PI.
Just in time as the door was kicked in, the first of what was likely to be many Cyber-Gaki preparing to assault the bar.
Time for the combat tutorial!
Sun Dec 14 16:05:51 2025