“Killer kawaii,” Hana-chan said, pumping her fist animatedly as the little digital avatars of her high-definition murder minions posed sexily after the bloodshed was done. Pei-10-PI was in the lead, of course, but her current squad members were just off to the side, providing inferior eye candy. Though perhaps just being normal looking women, in so much as knock off 80s anime OVA gang members could look normal, served to highlight the stupendous synthetic curves of her first unit.
Now of course, adorned by the recent blue-black blood of the tek-zombies that had assaulted the bar, still dripping from her pristine and curvaceous form like the well-oiled killing machine she was. With the lights giving off a neon glow, her own glassy orbs reflecting it as they flickered with their own eerie incandescence, she almost felt like that smoldering look was centered on her, the player/streamer/totally-kickass-gamer-gurl showcasing it all for her adoring fans and-
“Wow! When did I get so many viewers?!”
“Hey there to all my kohei viewers just joining up. This here is Hana-chan, the bestest streamer ever. We just got done shooting up all those baka zombies.” Emojis, comments, and likes rained down from her chat as she giggled, flashing a double peace sign before turning back to the game. Clicking on her victorious squad, only to cutely cock her head to one side as cartoonish exclamation point popped into existence above her avatar’s head. “Nani?! We have more upgrades?”
It looked like her two recent recruits could be upgraded based on their prior role and their current commander.
“-cannot upgrade beyond squad leader tier, currently unlocked [Biker Bitch] and [Joy-toy Jeager]”
Clicking further the info for both upgrade paths helpfully popped on the screen, hovering just to the side of Aim-Me and Brit-Bit as they stood behind the sexily posing synth.
Biker Bitch: Hell on the roads or off them, these babes are bad to the alloyed bone. Always ready for action and to ride, what they lack in staying power they make up for in speed.
“You think your man enough to ride this bitch?”
Joy-Toy Jeager: A jail broken joy-toy with contraband corpo hunter-killer programming downloaded into her firmware. This machine has two speeds, fuck and kill, though she’s not sure which one she’s programmed to enjoy more. (only Available when synth squad leader is attached)
“Hello [ERROR], you r-r-ready to get l-l-lu-die tonight?”
Both options looked interesting, showing a general upgrade in the stats for each option. Joy-Toys had better endurance and HP while the Biker Bitch had more accuracy and speed by comparison. Their [Skills] were also different.
“Huh, so the Biker Bitch can ride [Light Vehicles] … sugoi.” Hana-chan then spun the camera and view around, looking at the other unit option. “But the Joy-Toy Jeager has better general combat skills, especially since it keeps the side arm… and it synergizes with this kind of leader?”
“So different squad leaders unlock different effects depending on who they lead…”
Still, both options did seem like they could be fun.
But which way to go?
After a moment, Hana-chan smiled and made her selections…
***
“You want to touch me… you want to fuck me.”
Pei-10-PI was busy exalting in a bizarre post blood-bath show, plastic fingers groping her ginormous synthetic globes as she continued a one robot show to an audience of none. Or perhaps two, as her recent recruits were captive witnesses to her shaking her robo-booty, the ivory pale ass, black rubber seams and armored access panels near the alloyed core of her spine shaking from side to side as she turned towards them. The sloshing pink lube tank of her not-womb a’glow and a’bubbling as she bent low, her silicone rubber globes swaying from side to side, hands gripped tight as she squeezed hard, a torturous grope on mere human woman but the kind of rough play she needed to get off and make her Ona-Pulse cunt quiver with jolts of rewarding synth pleasure.
The one between her legs and the one vibrating behind her lips.
Penelope, poured into this slutty fuckbot frame, was quite thoroughly incapable of thinking rationally through the pleasure, hammering her phantom awareness of mere human flesh with something more, something purer. Such that when a pair of new floating symbols popped up over her two followers it was Pei-10-PI’s thoughts that came first.
“Ooh… upgrades. My favorite thing.”
And what delicious options!
Of course, it wasn’t her place to choose, but her Mistress had clearly already made up her mind. Now she just had to… help it along.
The glow intensified, neon green turned into an almost sickly radioactive glow that seemed to both emanate from within Aim-Me and without her. The poor girl’s combat drunk glow faded into alarmed confusion as Pei-10-PI waltzed over. Arousal peaked, but it wasn’t just the natural result of having a choice piece of synthetic ass and tits all up in her face. No, Aim-Me’s cheeks were flushing unnaturally, pulse quickening dangerously as she shivered from chills even in the seedy, humid heat of the bar after the gun battle. Pei-10-PI’s leg threaded between the knocking legs of Aim-Me before she could slip and fall.
“Nnngh-GAH!”
Instead, she was grinding her crotch against the Cyber-Oiran’s thigh, heat and arousal peaking. Gushing, wet and hot as her breathy moans became more fevered, more desperate. Only to climax, legs tightening as her thighs clenched. Then more, legs thickening as soft cracks and pops came as size and muscle added, her already torn leggings tearing more as the flesh and form enlarged beneath them. Her boots swelled, going almost up to the knee. While her skirt yanked in, turned hot, tight, shorter than short riding shorts that left her electric yellow thong riding even higher.
“Mmmmh… more cushion for the ride?”
“F-fuck you, you talking vibrato-aaaAH!”
“Good idea,” Pei-10-PI said, two fingers stuck together, vibrating as she wedged them down the crack of Aim-Me’s ass, towards her weeping sex while worming between the swelling mounds of her very ass. Her waist cinched in slightly as her height increased and more midriff was shown. Back and front, tight abs and burning ink as tramp stamp of spinning chrome wheels, alit by purple-red flames about a grinning metallic skull. She growled out a moan, teeth grit as she humped against Pei-10-PI again, chest to chest.
And then rising to meet those massive fake fucking robo hooters.
“Fu-ucking hell!”
Her bosom was vibrating, her engine still steaming even as the crash from the last climatic thrust and hip grind left those airbags inflating. The top stretching out, wider and wider as the torn t-shirt was lifted up on a shelf of swelling dick-milkers, packing with the sort of bombastic cheap ass implants and after market work a fast running, fast fucking street slut of a biker bitch could afford. Not as perverse absurd as Pei-10-PI’s, though nearly every bit as bombastic and only a good 20% more real than the combat programmed fuckbot’s by the end.
“Competitive, aren’t we?”
“I always come in first bitch!”
“Not tonight,” Pei-10-Pi said, both hands now under Aim-Me’s shirt, squeezing, groping, fingers teasing and tweaking her fat nipples and faker boobs as her now melons stretched to their final, well beyond handful mass and size. Lifting, massaging, her hands only just able to enclose as her fingers clicked and stretched outward, the plastic rubber joints extending as she formed robo-finger bra and supported the massive titties while pressing her own still larger endowments in as if to show how much she still exceeded them in very nearly every aspect.
Aim-Me had nothing to say to that, biting down on her lower lip as studs popped out on her left nostril, her hair shortening on one side, shaved nearly bald while the other grew even longer, wilder, the tips dyeing green as she pushed Pei-10-PI away at last, fingerless biker gloves studded with protective plates as she pulled her gun, spun it around before we holstering it where it now went on her hip.
A proper Biker Bitch, if lacking a bike for the moment.
“Aim-Me?” Brit-Bit said, stunned at the sight of her friend’s further metamorphosis, the shy college girl utterly replaced by a bad ass techno-slut, a bike riding bad ass. Bombastic, brash, and nearly shameless in her hedonistic desires and aspirations. The sight left her shaking, a deep-seated void rising up. Something deeper, more primal than fear.
A yawning abyss, an oblivion from within. And all she needed was a little push…
“What are you looking at, fucking joy-toy?”
“Wha-“
“You want me to ride you, huh?” Aim-Me said, sauntering over, between her added height and even bigger boots, now leering down on her once friend with barely veiled disgust.
That and something… else. A stranger sort of hunger that made Brit-Bit’s heart skip a beat (or several) her breath hitch (and then suck in too hard) and her eyes roll back as she seized up and-
“You’re going to blue screen the poor thing.”
Yes.
Thing.
Object.
Ownership.
Or past.
Now present-
Britty-Bit opened her eyes, now glowing electric pink as the glassy stare turned actual glass, optics whirring from meat to metal as she submitted, crouching low and purring. Her voice sinking in octaves as her body sank into low stance, crawling forward. Fingers clacking as plastic joints and metallic nails grew into place, her needs and desires simplifying even as they became digitally complex. No desire but sex, but so much desire for it. Only for her whole body to jerk, twist, and spasm as electro-hax wiring fried through her mind and smoke came out of her ears turned cranial vents. Lips swelling fat with blue speckled gel, drooling lube as she turned hungrier look at Aim-Me’s gun. She wanted one!
Oh, she had one. She grabbed it, spinning it around in hands designed for slow to fast motion on hard shafts but now rewired to strangle the life from any dumb punk that got in her way. Limbs growing leaden as plas-steel alloys shifted through bone and flesh, her clothing, already tattered under hive rags stretched and ripped from her changing frame. Barely clothed as more than enough for a hacked up Joy-Toy with aspirations of violence with her life of synthetic pleasure protocols, and Britty-Bit was feeling pretty good about both. She rose slowly, unsteadily as her bosom grew in jolts, filling with silicone, than inflating with rubber padding, before subdermal armor and metal plates lifted, pressed, and supported her enormous robo-hooters on a aluminum chassis and her nipples popped out like big bluish-gray bottlecaps on each enormous spherical teat. Her jacket hung loose now, utterly unable to hide her shameless technological shame, while her waist cinched in, hard.
Another soft crack, another softer pop, and her belly button enlarged, a soft spherical lube window not unlike Pei-10-PI’s that marked her as a similar, if inferior, model of the same pleasure-bot. Ass out, and swelling larger as her shorts unraveled and her thong became the only thing pretending to show modesty from her weeping, and increasingly unrealistically vulgar, robotic sex hole. The drip of pink-tinged lube dripped along her swelling, plastic and faux flesh thighs, down the seams and amor plating and then falling as tiny droplets as her shows exploded apart, replaced by built in heels and ever armored fashion for only the best of synthetic corner girls or tek-strippers for dive bars not unlike this one.
Though given the slide out armored panel and holster where she swiftly hid away her personal hand cannon, she was probably someone’s personal Joy-Toy before they hacked her combat protocols and made a few more after-market additions to make her just a little more dangerous.
Taken together, as they now were, with Aim-Me, cradling Britty-Bit’s head in her hands, the chrome plated fuckbot’s face now filled with rapturous adoration as she wanted to desperately cap off their evening of violence with more horizontal action. Only for Pei-10-PI to pull the two apart and start towards the door.
The night was young and their mission was far from over.
Tue Dec 23 22:40:02 2025
3 comments Last updated: Wed Dec 24 11:13:01 2025