Losing humanity

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Last week I noticed a massive increase in readers and likes. Thank you to all of you who take the time for me. I suspect it was because of Thanksgiving? Assuming most of my readers are from the States. In any case, I'd love to participate in Thanksgiving sometime. We don't have anything like that here in Germany. Come to think of it, I can't immediately think of a truly special day that we have that the rest of the world doesn't. At least not a day like that, if you exclude the liberation of Nazis and the commemoration of their crimes. God, we're a troubled bunch. But hey. At least we have more kinds of bread than all of you! ;) Anyway. Enough about Nazis and turkeys, back to Sonya and her troubled path.

Please enjoy...

Chapter 79

What am I doing?

What am I doing?

What am I doing?

My thoughts are swirling in my head like the wheels of the car that's taking me to him.

One day too late. I fought for so long. It was the hardest fight of my life, fought in silence, motionless on my bed. It cost me every ounce of self-control, my last fight. And I lost. In the middle of the night, I got up, got dressed, and stood in front of the door. I waited until I could come to him, in the evening, as he wanted, just one day later.

I know he'll punish me. For my rebellious behavior. For the fight. For thinking I was stronger than him.

But to be honest, I almost welcome it. It's incredibly frightening to have no interest in anything in my opulent house, just to sit on the bed, fight, and… wait. Waiting to lose, knowing I'm going to lose and come crawling to him. And now, half the day of fighting and half the day of waiting feels like a waste, no victory, however small. I've accepted that I can't fight anymore.

What am I doing?

What am I doing?

I'm doing exactly what he told me to.

As I answer the question, everything in my head becomes fuzzy and calm again. A warm feeling of apathy spreads through me, as it always does when I'm not serving him.

"Miss Mackintosh?" The chauffeur of the car I ordered cautiously inquires about my behavior. He's known me for a long time, a decent young man who has driven me many times before.

But not like today.

Sonya Mackintosh.

Choice of Dress: Light clothing. Teasing and a bit slutty. Easy to undress. Little to no underwear. Fuckable.

My driver had never seen me like this before, and I was ashamed to dress like a lousy tramp. It was even difficult to find something that satisfied my inexplicable urge to dress with the thought of being easy to undress. But what else could I do?

The dreams I have **** and indulge me equally every night, so vividly that I can remember every single one in every tiny detail. I dream of living on my knees like a lowly ****. I dream of dedicating my life to someone else, of doing nothing for myself but everything for another person. Eat, sleep and living, only to be able to serve...him. I dream of what it's like to be nothing more than a simple, crude tool for the pleasure of others.

And every morning I wake up, almost at the point of an orgasm that I know will finally make me what I want to be… But it doesn't work. It never works, and I'm slowly losing my mind. I don't know what to do except fingering me for almost an hour, till I'm sore and devastated... and so fucking horny.

I'm on my way to Finn Lynchwood, and I know he'll take me. Come to my house. Tonight. Dress sexy. And serve me. I will. I want to.

But still, it's like being a lamb to the slaughter.

"Miss Mackintosh?" My driver turns to me, and I look at him questioningly. "I said we're here." He points to the car window next to him, where the sun is shining. A brief ray breaks through the heavy rain, revealing my destination. My driver looks at me with concern, and I realize we've probably been standing in front of the unassuming apartment building on the outskirts of New York for quite some time.

"Yes... Yes... Thank you," I say softly, unbuckle my seatbelt with trembling fingers, and open the door. A passerby gives me a meaningful look as I swing my legs out of the car and show him my white, expensive, flimsy panties, which I bought especially for this evening. Then his gaze travels up to my top and the slightly darker, round patches that reveal my nipples. No bra. I wanted to, but I couldn't. I had to dress sexy, slutty.

I get out of the car and my skirt falls over my legs. Not far. Just above the top of my white silk stockings. The evening air is chilly on my skin, making it prickle with adrenaline. All afternoon I fought against going to him, against serving him. But I lost. As so often happens when I fight against him. And as so often, far too often lately, an indifferent air settled over me, making it easy for me to slip into a state of blissful numbness.

But now I'm alert and ready. Because there it is, the home of Finn, my master. The one I want to serve.

These days, I hardly ask myself why. The attraction this unassuming boy has over me is too strong.

"I'm always available should you need me, Miss," my driver says. I'd almost forgotten he was here. I'm only aware of my destination. So I just nod, pull my skirt as low as I can, and hurry out of the damp, cool air into the warm uncertainty I always plunge into when he's near.

Into a night of sex, slavery and, if I earn it, salvation.

My hand trembles slightly as I lift it, about to knock on the door that separates me from an evening of submission, humiliation, and the warm joy of serving.

Click.

Swoosh.

The door swings open without me having done anything.

Lynchwood Home. +1 (PS -89)

I stand there dumbfounded, my hand raised like a moron, staring into the apartment. No one is in the doorway, but the warm air envelops me, my body, and I breathe it in. A warm shiver runs down my spine.

Home, I think, but shake my head. A prison, I think then. ****. But even that doesn't sink in.

Enter.

The urge grows stronger. Yes. I should go in. It's as if my thoughts no longer obey me as I do and step over the threshold.

Nervously, I look around. Shoes stand in neat rows, clothes hang on the wall, jackets and everything a family owns. Some of it is pink and girly. Others are black and sassy. A dog leash hangs on a hook with an expensive-looking collar.

Then I take in the sounds. The smells. Soft, peaceful music drifts from the apartment, jazz or something similar. My family hears something like that too, but the thought doesn't take hold.

Serve the Family.

Lynchwood Home. +2 (PS -87)

Yes. I'm here to serve the Lynchwood family. Wait. I only serve Finn, right?

Serve the family.

I blink. Finn said I should only serve him. I do. That… That I crave.

But if he says I should serve the family…

I take a step into the apartment, reach the end of the small area where the clothes hang, and enter the living room.

Hold!

Lynchwood Home +1 (PS -86)

I stop. It's as if my feet refuse to carry me any further.

Wait for orders!

I could go crazy. In the brief moments of lucidity, the few moments when I'm not sitting softly and peacefully on my bed, aware of everything around me but doing nothing, just waiting, waiting to receive an order, in those moments I thought I'd want to get this over with quickly. Serve him for a night, get fucked, then he'll throw you out and you'll be free again. Maybe with an orgasm on your way out. But I'm neither afraid of the thought nor aroused by it. I simply stand there.

I wait to be activated.

The door clicks shut behind me, a loud noise. I flinch. Then the music in the kitchen is turned down. My heart is pounding in my chest. It's almost time and…

"Honey?" The voice sounds happy. In love. But no one comes to me, so I remain motionless. "Hello! I'm in the kitchen cooking for you. How did things go with Lisa? And how's Rose? We all miss you and… I'm sorry. I will listen." It's a phone call.

The white shirt with its semi-transparent fabric stretches across my breasts, and I squeeze my thighs together. The fabric of my panties brushes against my midsection while the stockings feel like they're cutting off the circulation in my legs. My chest rises and falls as I grow increasingly nervous. I'm standing in a strange house, alone, ignored. I don't feel welcome and I'm shuffling my feet.

Hold still!

I obey the thoughts that creep into my head as if they weren't my own.

Wait for activation. Don't move. Obey. Serve.

"Wait for activation," I whisper so quietly, it's another thought. This time I've actively chosen to think. "Task understood."

Sonya Mackintosh. +1 (PS -21)

Obey. Serve. Be nice. Be calm.

"I will obey. I will serve. I will be nice. I will be calm."

Lynchwood Home +1 (PS -85)

Yes. It feels good. Calm and nice. And I will obey, stand still and wait for activation.

My back arches and I relax. My hands move to the sides of my skirt, so that my fingers brush against the edge. And I wait.

"Okay... Yes... I understand," the voice comes from the kitchen, accompanied by the clatter of pots and pans. "Should I get the puppy and our daughter ready? The sight of them might startle her and... I understand, hubby." The voice sounds happy. "Don't worry. I'll find the balance. You've domesticated me well, husband. And when are you coming home? ... With Rose? That's so nice. Okay. I'll get everything ready... I love you too, hubby. So, so much. Thank you for being with me." Then there's a brief silence in the kitchen. The music is turned up a little louder, and a pot clatters on the stove.

I feel so lonely and abandoned. I stand uselessly in this strange house and feel unwelcome. My knees begin to tremble. It's a reflex I can't suppress. My teeth clench until they hurt, and my eyes well up with tears.

What am I doing?

You obey orders, the answer flashes through my mind. You obey like a good robot slut. Obey the family. Serve the Family.

I want to respond to my thoughts, to decide to think something, not just react to them. But I'm too slow.

"Tammy, honey? Tammy, come down here!" The voice rings out cheerfully through the apartment. It grows louder. Someone is coming to me! Someone I can serve! "Tammy! Oh my god!" A tall, beautiful woman in a long, pristine white shirt appears in the doorway to the kitchen. She's naturally startled to see a strange girl standing in her apartment, and I'm so nervous that a tear escapes my eye and runs down my cheek. I want to escape! I should escape!

Stay! Obey!

Lynchwood Home +2 (PS -83)

Serve the Family!

My whole body trembles as if I'm about to freeze to ****. I tremble, hyperventilate, my fingers clench into fists… But a gentle, albeit still somewhat startled, smile spreads across the face of the stranger, perhaps a few years older than me.

“Oh,” she says, and my head feels like it’s caught in barbed wire. My thoughts tear open on the sharp spikes as I try to explain, shattering far too quickly for me to pick them up and use them.

I am naked.

Not physically, but mentally.

I am naked and helpless.

“You’re already here. How wonderful.” As if greeting a long-awaited guest, the young woman before me shakes off her surprise, puts a warm smile on her lips, steps closer, and shakes my hands. I feel as if my brain is swimming in a mixture of cola and menthol. “I’m Jasmine,” the woman introduces herself. “Jasmine Lynchwood.”

Serve the Family! Obey the Family! Be a good robo slut! Be nice! Be calm!

And I take her hand.

"You must be Sonya," Jasmine says as our hands touch. "Please. Come in."

She gestures into the apartment, and suddenly it's as if my legs aren't made of pudding set in concrete. I can move, on weak, wobbly legs that nevertheless carry me beside Jasmine.

So that I can serve her. Serve the Family. Obey. Be nice. Be calm.

"Thank you" is the first thing I say. But I don't know what I'm thanking her for. Because she let me into her home? Because she gave me a task? Because she recognized me and spoke to me like I'm human? Because she lets me serve?

I don't know what to say. Does this woman even know why I'm here? Does she know about my dreams? The desire to submit? My time with Finn in the volleyball club? My punishment for my sins?

“Finn just told me about you,” Jasmine informs me, and I feel both relieved and terrified that the subjugation of a pretty, smart, strong girl to his will was apparently not even worth mentioning to his family. Here is a girl men fight over, at his feet… And he ignores me.

It makes me angry. It makes me worried.

And it makes me happy.

Because a robolut exists to serve, not to be noticed.

Sonya Mackintosh. +2 (PS -19)

Then I listen to Jasmine again, staring blankly into her eyes as she leads me through the living room.

“My husband said you’re here today to serve him.” I stop and feel Jasmine’s hand slide off my shoulder. She ignores my slutty outfit, ignores my niplles visible under the fabric and looks into my worried, unfocused eyes.

Didn’t she just talk to Finn? I didn’t know he had a wife. Or are these two different people and I'm missing something? That wouldn't be the first time lately, and…

"Mommy!" A girl comes down the stairs who can't be much younger than me. But she looks like she's stepped out of a pink nightmare.

Rosy cheeks, light makeup. A bow in her hair and a girly shirt stretched across her torso, paired with comfortable shorts, the girl flies down the stairs…

“Is Daddy home again?”

And jumps when she sees me.

A typical reaction from a small child to a stranger in the house.

“Mommy, I’m scared!” The girl huddles behind Jasmine, grabs her hand, and clings to her, hiding her head behind the (not much older) girl. I am almost relieved to see a normal reaction. After all, I'm the prime example of completely crazy behavior… But the girl is definitely no younger than 18 or 19. And Jasmine, her “Mommy,” is maybe in her mid-twenties? What would be a normal family reaction to abnormal behavior is, in this case, crazy behavior to my crazy behavior. Jasmine, on the other hand, smiles peacefully.

"Tammy my angel, this is Sonya. She belongs to your daddy."

What… But I'm too shocked to continue the thought. That was definitely Finn on the other end of the line… Jasmine's… husband… and there she is… Tammy… his… daughter? My mouth drops open and the realization that something is very, very wrong here physically grinds at the back of my mind as I slowly begin to understand what's happening. But I'm weak, slow, as weak and slow as so often lately, when all I want to do is switch off my brain and submit to Finn Lynchwood.

Like a good roboslut.

"I don't like her," Tammy murmurs, glancing cautiously past Jasmine's body. The two can only be a few years apart in age. No way there are mother and daughter...

"Be nice to her," her "Mommy" admonishes. "She's one of Daddy's sluts."

My God… What am I doing here? I should…

Obey the Family!

I obey the family.

Be nice. Be calm.

I will be nice and calm.

Everything is right in this house.

Everything is right in this house.

Lynchwood Home. +2 (PS -81)

Sonya Mackintosh. +3 (PS -16)

Yes. Finn is doing something to me. And it seems I'm not the only one. I'm still observing this obviously grown woman who seems to be behaving like a child when I notice the girl looking at me with a growl. Her head slightly bowed, her eyes fixed on me, and her lips ever so slightly pursed, she's scrutinizing me from head to toe.

"Is she one of those meanies that treated Daddy so poorly?" she asks, and for the first time, I realize the consequences of my actions with Finn. I open my mouth to answer, wanting to tell her that I'm the only one who wasn't shown naked, that I found the whole prank pointless and annoying.

But I remain silent.

Don't speak to the family, I think to myself. Wait to be spoken to. Serve the family.

Or is it something other than me who pushes the thoughts into my poor head? Someone other?

Jasmine nods and stands next to me. She places a friendly hand on my shoulder.

"This is Sonya," she explains to the girl, who I assume is named Tammy. Finn never mentioned his family. He was too unimportant to us for asking, showing respect or simple, friendly interest. But there's no way this girl is his child. Then Jasmine turns to me. "Tell my daughter why you're here." I look at the woman helplessly. My head is flooded with questions, questions I try to fight down. Robosluts don't ask questions! Robosluts obey! But the questions are there. They burn in my mind and…

"Is she dumb or something?" Tammy sounds like a bratty teenager, crosses her arms, and pouts.

"She's just intimidated honey. But she's looking forward to serving us. Daddy assured me she'll do a good job." Tammy clenches her teeth and eyes me with undisguised suspicion.

"If Daddy says so," she murmurs. Then she turns and disappears back upstairs without another word. Jasmine and I are alone.

"Don't worry about it," she tries to reassure me gently, takes my hand, and pulls me toward the kitchen... And I follow without thinking. "She'll accept you eventually. We recently took her out of college, and now she wants her father all to herself." Once in the kitchen, she looks at me, ignoring my unspoken questions. Instead, she pulls me to the counter and, without flinching, places a knife and various fruits on a large wooden board in front of me. "You prepare dessert, and I'll take care of the main course. Hubby will be pleased." Jasmine looks as happy as if she's won a prize. With that, she gets to work.

And I'm standing in front of the cutting board, a knife in my hand…

I begin to work.

Sonya Mackintosh. +7 (PS -9)

This is how I spend the evening. Quietly. Obediently. Tamely. Working and being helpful.

Useful, I think… and smile.

Be useful! Be kind! Be precise! Be clear!

The thoughts creep into my head without me having to make an effort. I let them. They calm me. Next to me, Jasmine, the woman I've only known for an hour, hums and whistles as if we've been best friends for years. And I don't wonder what's happening to me. I concentrate on cutting the apples, bananas, oranges, and kiwis as precisely and accurately as the family deserves.

I'm a stranger in this house, I only know the entrance and the kitchen, but I act as if I'm exactly where I want to be. No one explains to me what's happening, no one acknowledges that I'm standing in the kitchen in sexy clothes, working for the man who forces me to do the craziest, most depraved, and most humiliating things. Things I love. And I'm not thinking about it. I'm concentrating on kiwis, bananas, apples, and oranges.

At some point, Jasmine wipes her forehead with her hand. She's cooking as if her life depends on it, but with a joy as if she's earned a ticket to heaven.

"Almost done," she says, breathing a sigh of relief. "Pew. I'm getting better." She glances at the clock on the wall. "And on time! You're a great help, Sonya!" I stare blankly at her, reminding myself that I'm not a tool, but a living human being with feelings and a sense of honor. A sense of honor that's pretty badly bruised.

"T-Thank you..." I murmur, trying to smile.

My body decides to put me in front of Jasmine, the knife still in my hand, my arms at my sides, and my head bowed.

Sonya Mackintosh. +1 (PS -8)

In my mind, I add something. I serve the family. I'm a roboslut.

Luckily, I'm still strong enough to keep my mouth shut.

"Hubby will be home soon," Jasmine says and nods upstairs. "Take care of the puppy and tell Tammy to be there when Daddy arrives. She wants to greet him at the door."

"Y-Yes," I stutter, put the knife down, and move out of the kitchen on wobbly but flowing legs. Then I'm standing in front of the stairs.

Second door on the right. Obey.

Lynchwood Home. +3 (PS -78)

And I obey.

The last few weeks have been the worst, most terrifying time of my life. Not because Finn does whatever he wants with me. But because I'd resigned myself to the fact that he could do anything he wanted to me. Sex in front of my friends, humiliation, begging, pleading, sucking, and submitting. All things I knew, knew I would never do. In less than two months.

I go upstairs and let the thoughts, the knowledge of where I have to go, simply sink into my mind.

I'm in this house to serve.

I'm human! I'm Sonya! I decide that I want to serve! I decide how I want to be treated! It can't get any worse.

I'm wrong.

The woman I find sitting on the bed in lingerie looks at me slyly.

My eyes widen. I don't know her. She doesn't know me. Every instinct in my body screams for me to apologize and flee the room.

Take care of the puppy! Obey!

Lynchwood Home. +2 (PS -76)

And I obey.

I quietly close the door. With me in the room. It's a small, shabby room. But you can see that an effort has been made to make it look nice. Two beds stand close together, one empty, the other covered with a large, soft blanket. The woman sits there, looking at me expectantly with calm eyes and a faint smile. She seems completely okay in showing me her barely clad body in this expensive set of lingerie.

I stand there, undecided. What should I do? Take care of the puppy? There is no puppy here, and I don't know how I'm supposed to take care of it. Maybe Jasmine was mistaken, I hope.

The Family is never wrong. Obey!

But this time I can't do it. Because I'm thinking about that crazy girl, Tammy, and Jamsine, who thinks she's Finn's wife. And I'm supposed to take care of the puppy…

My eyes stare pleadingly at the woman. Deep down, I know she won't help me, but…

Whine…

"What…" I can't say anything more. Then I watch in shock as the woman's tongue rolls out of her mouth and a silly grin spreads across her lips.

Oh please… don’t…

But today my thoughts will go unheard. By no one. Not even by me.

As if I'm not human anymore.

Like the woman on the bed right in front of me.

The woman drops to her knees, slides off the bed in one fluid motion, and crawls toward me on all fours. Without fear or concern, she moves toward me while I remain rooted to the spot, frozen like a pillar of salt.

Then she touches me.

My stockings are so thin and delicate that I can feel the warmth of her cheeks as she presses her face against my thigh. The woman shows no shame or restraint. She presses her body against mine, and I can see her bare skin when she moves. Her large breasts hang beneath her body, held up by the expensive bra whose fabric feels exquisite against my skin.

"I... I..." My brain is now only focused on the command. Serve the Family. Obey. Take care of puppy. Obey. Serve.

I fight because I know what will happen.

And I wish Finn were here, giving me an order.

I hear it in my head. Obey the Family. Obey the Family. But I would do it of my own accord. Finn ordered me to come here. I obeyed. And now this unknown woman nestles against my legs and looks up at me expectantly. Obey the Family! Take care of the puppy! Serve the Family!

"I... I know... I..." But it's no use. My mind knows I will obey.

I sink to my knees.

The woman can't be that old either. But old enough to be the mother of Tammy... No! I don't even want to think about that. My brain already aches at the thought of what I'm going to do.

"Hello puppy," I whisper before I can even realize that I've sealed my fate. There's no turning back.

I came here on orders. I obey. I serve Finn. I'm Finn's servant.

But as I cup the woman's head in my hands and gaze deep into her strange, loyal, calm eyes, I do it because I know it's required of me, not out of necessity.

"I'm here to serve you." She smiles and pants happily.

Her lips taste perfectly normal. Like those of a middle-aged woman. Not that I have any experience with that.

But I kiss her anyway.

And she kisses me.

"Hm… ah… hmmmah…" We peck each other on the lips, lick around, and then dive in again for a deeper kiss. Soon she sticks out her tongue, and I return the gesture.

Whine… pant pant… slurp… Whine…

Animal sounds escape her throat, and I inhale her scents as we slowly become breathless. While my hands hold her head, her arms are firmly on the floor. Her bottom wiggles to the rhythm of my tongue, and our noses press together as I bend down lower and lower until we're both crouching on our knees, kissing like two depraved lesbians.

No. I'm kissing a puppy, I realize. A woman pretending to be a dog. I'm lesbo kissing a puppy slut!

And she sets the pace!

I obey the puppy! My God, I take care of the puppy!

I stop kissing the woman. I haven't even known her for a minute! I'm kissing a stranger!

"I'm here to serve," I say to the woman again, my voice calm but shaky. "How can I serve you?"

There's no turning back now.

And the woman knows it too.

She pulls away from me, smiles, then lies first on her side, then on her back, like a dog on the ground of the room. I know what's coming. I don't move, waiting for the puppy to give me permission to serve.

She spreads her legs. The expensive, velvety fabric of her panties glitters in the light of the apparently newly installed lamps.

"Arf!"

"I serve. I obey."

This is the first pussy I've ever tasted. I'm not a lesbian. I hate woman and their pussies!

But I need to serve. I need it to survive.

I lick and slurp and hum. My fingers brush over the swollen clit under my nose and I inhale her scent. The stranger is completely relaxed and happy as I pleasure her with my mouth as best I can.

Move tongue around clit! Suck harder!

I obey.

Lynchwood Home. +2 (PS -74)

Suck less. Stick fingers in vagina. More fingers. Move faster. Lick harder. Move hands to left breasts. Pinch nipple.

I obey.

Move fingers faster. Pump into vagina. Lick harder. Suck on click and move tongue at the same time.

I obey.

It's as if someone or something is whispering to me how I should fuck a woman. It's as if someone is reading me an instruction manual as I dive between the woman's thighs and have my first lesbian experience with her.

It's humiliating. It's frightening.

It's helpful.

Just as helpful as the instruction manual I wrote for Finn.

And thinking about him, it's not so strange anymore to be fucking a woman I've never met in my life, in a house I've never even been to. I should feel like a prostitute. I definitely could feel like a whore.

But I don't.

I serve the family.

It feels strange to think this way, but it's the only way to keep from losing my mind.

And when the woman under my tongue comes to a sopping wet orgasm, I don't even think about the fact that it's punishment for the things I've done.

Primary User arrives in 10:00

Lynchwood Home. +3 (PS -71)

I can see the numbers in my mind's eye! I can see the fucking countdown ticking down!

I rub my eyes.

Primary User arrives in 09:56

I rub harder. The countdown continues.

A tear rolls down my cheek.

"What's happening to me?" I ask, blinking as the woman beneath me does. "Oh my God, what's happening to me? Please..."

But no god hears my plea. Instead, the woman sits down on her ass. I can see her pussy, the wet traces of my tongue as she gets back on all fours. Her gaze is almost caring. I don't think about pushing her away as the countdown ticks down.

As the stranger licks my face and presses her warm, slightly sweaty body against mine, I realize that my life will never be the same again. What began as a mean, senseless, and far too whorish prank against a naive and hopelessly nice young man has now culminated in a countdown that burns in my field of vision in the copper right edge of my field of view, even when I close my eyes! Nothing will ever be the same again, and the question of what will happen to me becomes all the more burning. Yet I don't ask it. Not directly. I know that's not my place.

What's happening to me is knowledge I don't need to serve the family.

I know I have to be at the door, awaiting instructions. I know I will be there.

These are the things that matter.

Something is dissolving in my brain and my heart, transforming into bubbling mucus that finally trickles down the gutter, into which I also dump my other worries.

I stand up and rub my face. The countdown doesn't disappear, but my tears do.

"Your owner arrives shortly," I inform the woman. She pants, squeals, and wags her imaginary tail. "I need to prepare for his arrival." With that, I turn to leave, but not before pressing a loving kiss to the woman's forehead.

"Task complete: Take care of the puppy," I say in the same monotone voice I grew to fear and accept at the same time. This is my life now, whether I want it or not. "Execute next task: Tell Tammy to be there when Daddy arrives. Execute." With that, I start moving, tasting the scent of pussy on my tongue.

"Go away, dumbass!" Tammy's voice rings out, muffled and annoyed, through the door.

"Modify current task: Tell Tammy to be there when Daddy arrives. Tell her not in person. Execute."

"Your Daddy will arrive shortly," I inform the girl—the grown-ass woman! I remind myself, but I don't change my submissive stance. "Your mother told me you wanted to meet him at the door."

"I know." I hear rustling behind the door. "Now go away!"

"I obey," I say. Did she hear me? It doesn't matter. She is part of the Lynchwood Family. I obey the Lynchwood Family. So I obey her orders.

Primary User arrives in 2:47

Nervous as a child at Christmas, I stand in the kitchen again, watching Jasmine as she prepares the final touches for a lavish dinner. She moves quickly through the kitchen, her movements perfect, a cheerful song on her lips. I want to say her name, to inform her that Primary User will be arriving soon. But I remain silent.

She is Secondary User. Don't use her name. Be polite. Be precise. Be submissive!

Lynchwood Home. +1 (PS -70)

Yes. Her name is something I have no right to use. Perhaps Miss Lynchwood? I open my mouth.

"Mistress Lynchwood." I cringe. Not because I'm uncomfortable or because my brain automatically lengthened the word. But because it feels good. Mistress Lynchwood turns around and smiles at me. "Primary User arrives in two minutes, Mistress," I mumble, fidgeting with my fingers. I dissolve. Sonya Mackintosh dissolves, disappears, and becomes something else. Something... mechanical.

"Thank you, sweetie," she says coos, glancing one last time around the kitchen, checking her clothes, and running a hand over her face. She wants to look perfect for Primary User. Then she steps toward me. "Here," she says with a warm smile, running her thumb along the corners of my mouth. Without asking, she touches me in a private, sensitive place—my lips—and gathers the last traces of the other woman's cunt slime from the edges of my mouth. She smiles as she licks her finger with twinkling eyes. "Come. Let us greet the man of the house." Wordlessly, I follow her to the door. Jasmine seems giddy, full of girlish anticipation as we stop in front of the closed door. I stay a step behind her, confused and anxious. But Jasmine, as helpful as she's been, doesn't acknowledge me. Both of our focus is on the piece of white-painted wood behind which, the countdown is relentlessly ticking down, my Primary User will soon step.

Don't stand in his way, robolut! Stand aside! Ready to serve!

Lynchwood Home. +1 (PS -69)

I obey immediately and move quietly, precisely, and fluidly. My skirt isn't very thick, and I feel the cold of the wall against my buttocks as I press my back against it and stand sideways to the door. Jasmine now has more space in the entryway, and…

We hear voices. Laughter.

He is here! I think of him like a god, descending upon me. I'm apprehensive. I'm nervous. I'm more confused than I've ever been in my life.

And I'm horny.

Obey Primary User, I think for myself. Be a good roboslut! No more help needed.

"He is here," Jasmine whispers in giddy excitement and starts rocking on her feet while her hands are folded in front of her chest to keep from trembling.

Then the door opens by itself, revealing Finn Lynchwood.

And my life changes forever.

Message from the author:

As announced, this is the first part of Sonya's transformation. I always enjoy showing the Lynchwood family from the perspective of an "outsider." It was exactly the same with Rania, and I have more small but meaningful scenes planned for the next chapter. Perhaps Michelle comes across as a little creepy, but this chapter is from Sonya's point of view, so I think it's okay. We already know about Michelle and how happy she is.

I've already written about 2000 words in the next chapter today and have two bonus chapters ready, one of which I'll publish on my Ko-fi page today. You can also view the info chapter that I'll create and publish shortly.

Furthermore, splitting the chapter gives me a week to create a super important poll. I now know several chapters I want to write, and starting with chapter 81, the second act will really get going. You can, of course, decide which one you want to read first.

Important note: I'll be using a bit more information in the description of this poll and testing whether it improves user interaction. Don't get me wrong! The way my readers respond to me always warms my heart. You're truly the best. That's why I want to see if I can offer you something more, give you a better sense of my "vision" for the potential chapter, and thus better acknowledge the energy you invest in me.

Please let me ask you in the last poll whether you're okay with the little "spoilers" or if I should go back to the old, more cryptic format. All the chapters will be included anyway, and there will be more, so they aren't really major spoilers. Don't worry.

Okay.

A (attempted and failed) date with Bella, which ends up in the kitchen of her restaurant. Revealing the struggles she and her family have in running a restaurant. Heather will be there to, helping, joking... and seeing some rather interesting, rather long, big and hard things.

Rania on her spy mission for Finn. Lakota is the target, but she'll also find out more about Tana and Miss Webster than Rania or Finn suspected. So much so that Finn can't help but reward Rania... and hatch a plan for Tana, Susan, and Lakota. Dark secrets and a hopeless situation for Lakota and her family and friends.

Candice wasn't at practice today. In this chapter, we'll get a glimpse into her family that we probably won't like and find out what Candice is doing to get the money for Finn.

Sofia and Sage are trying to figure out what's wrong with them. Ryan will help them. But Sage's mother (and, if I manage, Sofia's family) will also make her first appearance.

https://strawpoll.com/LVyK24w7QZ0

And here you can tell me if this method of information is to your liking. I personally prefer it this way; I feel like it gives more opportunities to influence the story. But I'm also skirting the edge of spoilers for some chapters. What do you think?

https://strawpoll.com/2ayLQw4Yvn4

I hope you had a great weekend. Fly safe and a good start into the new week.