I’ll go check

You left her alone to go get her something to drink. You knew she wasn't going to leave your room.

The idea of wasting coffee or **** on a sex toy seemed ridiculous to you. You ended up pouring her hot water in a cup. You poured yourself some too.

"There was no coffee," you lied to her.

Your bed was next to the wall, so she settled in the corner where she could use it as a backrest. You passed her a pillow: "I'm going to tell you about your <<new body>>. I suggest you get comfortable."

She hugged the pillow in a way you could only describe as instinctive. She stared at her mug in disbelief, as if this was the first time she had ever seen and drunk water.

You sat down next to her, respecting her personal space. You took a sip and asked:

"First things first, do you know my name?"

"You're... Umm... Timothy?"

"Yes, exactly!" your eyes lit up. "So I'm important enough for you to remember me?"

"I only remember you because LaVerne once said you had a pissed off face all the time."

"Oh... Well... My name is Timothy Wells."

You offered her a handshake. She hesitated a few seconds, but accepted it, shaking you lightly and quickly. The truth is, after formally introducing yourself, you felt much more confident.

"And what's your name?" You sadist.

"Alexan..."

You shook your head at her. Faint tears came from her eyes. At least now she looked a bit sexy to you as she cried.

You reached out your hand like the first time you activated her. You pointed right at her nose, and her eyes widened, pulling her head away from your hand.

"From now on you will be 2B." You said, and took another sip holding your cup with both hands.

"To be...? To be what?"

"No, I mean, the number 2 and the letter B. Twwoo-beeee."

"What? I don't want-"

"It's the name of the character your body is modeled after. I assume you don't know her yet, but when you do, you'll love her."

She didn't answer, but now there was something new her gaze: anger.

Progress!

"Don't look at me like that, you don't even know the character." You said.

As she drank water, she kept looking at you with displeasure. She'll get used to it, you thought.

"Now, about your body..." She raised her head, giving you her full attention. "As you may have noticed, you are a hermaphrodite; you have a penis and a vagina. Your semen is infertile, I made sure of that, but your vagina is capable of breeding. The latter I can turn off if I want to."

She looked surprised, but not in a good way. "Y-you can?"

"Yes..." You looked at the wall, avoiding eye contact. "I have total control over all of your body's physical capabilities. Only the mental ones escape me." Not for long, you added mentally. "Your testicles produce semen periodically. You will have constant erections but I can modify when you have them, set them to be triggered by certain words or sensory stimuli, modify their duration and speed at which they occur. I can control when you cum, how much, how long it takes..."

She didn't even blink. You decided not to go into too much more detail to avoid a panic attack.

"...Something similar happens with your breasts. They lactate and fill up periodically."

"W-wasn't lactating without being pregnant a sickness or something?"

You smiled at her. "You'll never have to worry about being sick again."

The slight trembling of her hand made the water inside her cup slosh back and forth. Waves were born and disappeared, born and disappeared. Each small vibration she created became visible for a few seconds before dying away. She merely contemplated this, and sighed silently.

Progress.

"Also..." This was going to be harder but better to tell her now "Your <<stomach>> is adapted to hold and preserve large amounts of cum. Up to 8 liters, if I remember correctly. It can keep it warm and in good state like a thermos. It can do that with liquids in general."

She frowned. "What would… What would you want that function for?"

You smiled again. "To use it, of course."

You saw a shiver run down her back.

"...I should add that you have different limits for how to physically interact with me. Now you are completely incapable of hurting me, but during sex, you have a little more freedom to, shall we say, treat me not so tenderly."

"Sex...?" She asked, "Sex... with you?"

"We'll get there. It's my job to convince you of that. But first, I want to help you assimilate everything you're going through."

"What if you fail? What if I never assimilate it or what if you never convince me?"

"We'll get there."

It was so, but so painfully obvious that she hated every single second you talked about her as an object, as a thing to be used.

And you found that extremely erotic.

You let some time pass in silence for her to process all the information you had just given her. You both finished drinking, and you put the cups on the night table. The silence had gone from awkward to slightly tense. Then you gave her a chance to express herself:

"What do you think of your new body?"

She stared at you, in a way you'll never forget. A mix between annoyance, anger, contempt, fear and disbelief in her eyes. It all made you think you had just asked the stupidest question in the world.

"What do you think I think?" her voice tone changed to one a little more aggressive and away from the fearful one you were used to. It was as if she was fighting her urge to cry and slap you simultaneously.

You tried to be careful with your words. "I think... That... Well, I know you're upset, sad, and in denial. I don't want to assume more from you at the moment."

She held back tears, but this time mostly of helplessness: "I don't even know who I am anymore, or what I am. I never wanted any of this. I wanted to spend more time with my family, with my friends... I wanted to become a teacher. All my hopes were taken away without me being able to do anything about it. While I didn't have an overly beautiful or perfect body, I liked it, I cared for it. It was my body. I would have loved to still be me." Her voice cracked on that last sentence. A single tear slid down her cheek.

Denial is the first stage of grief, you thought. Was she going to go on self-pitying for long? You hoped not. Because if those lips already looked sexy enough saying how sad she was, you thought about how beautiful they would look and feel around your cock.

"You can understand that, right?" She asked at your prolonged silence.

"I can." You replied, "Like I said, I want to help you assimilate your situation."

"How?"

"Well, is there anything I can do for you now?"

"Can you please let me go?"

"And fail my grade? I said assimilate your situation, not avoid it."

That look of anger and sadness returned to her face. You were beginning to find it somewhat attractive, provocative, even. Anger is the second stage of grief, you thought. You looked at your little window.

"By the way, it's already getting dark. Probably the answer is no, but, do you want to sleep in my bed? Nothing sexual, just sharing the same mattress."

"No. Not really."

"Are you sure? It's warm in here. Otherwise you'd have to sleep in your pod, and I don't think that one's too comfortable, or warm."

"I'm sure... Speaking of comfortable, when will you give me clothes?"

It was a good question. You hadn't really thought about that and you should get her something before Friday. "Eventually. Calm down, it's barely your first day here."

"So I'll sleep in there?" She said, pointing to her pod.

"As you wish."

Before you went to sleep, you went to wash the cups. You inspected hers. You smelled where her lips had been. It smelled a bit like drool; a smell somewhere between sour and sweet that you could barely catch. You licked just that part, but it didn't taste like anything in particular. Another day will be, you thought.

Then your mom came home from work. After a brief exchange, you explained that the Doll was fine and was already settling better. You finished washing up. Your mom asked if you wanted dinner, you replied that you weren't hungry. You told her you loved her, she told you she loved you too. You went upstairs.

When you got back to the room, you both settled down to sleep. She looked cute wrapped in the blanket you had given her. She had a hard time settling into her capsule, as it was barely big enough for her to fit in. You hadn't paid attention to the fact that she was the same height as you. You, on the other hand, wanted to look as comfortable as possible in your bed. You decided to give her an enticement, a little taste of the comfort she could be enjoying:

"Would you like a pillow?"

"Yes, please."

You gave her the smallest one you had and she seemed to get a little more comfortable. You turned off the lights.

"Good night." You said to her.

"Good night. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"...for everything."

You smiled. There was a subtle sad tone in those last words of hers.

The hours passed. You found it difficult to sleep with someone else in your room, even if it was a robot. At some point in the night you heard her crying. It was a barely audible cry, but it was there. It was probably louder than she would have liked.

At first you found it annoying, but you closed your eyes, and eventually imagined that those sounds were not crying, but moans of pleasure. You imagined a thousand situations where she might be making those moans, completely overwhelmed by lust.

And for the first time in many nights, you slept happily.