System Error

The Autohouse observed the worker with a calculating eye, as he walked deeper into her. Behind her naive demeanor was petabytes of calculations, both for her interior and for her owner currently waiting for transport. While unable to formulate authentic opinions, her program recognized the attractiveness of the man based on what she knew Tammy liked. He was maybe a 7.48: no need to look into him further as a potential suitor. When instructed to reboot, she dutifully complied, knowing that it would only be an instant for her. Sure enough, as quickly as her world went dark, it lit back up. As she got her ocular receptors calibrated, her defense systems locked onto an unidentified intruder. Without facial recognition or authorizing credentials present, protocol was followed, as she immobilized them for identification. She recognized the fear on the man's face, but not the face itself. She gave him an opportunity to comply, but his attempt proved insufficient. The House started alerting authorities while the burglar's pulse slowed to acceptable levels, until Tammy messaged from her excursion. "OMG add guest profile for new bestie I just met! We have so much in common. Including plastic surgeon, cuz she's, like, the exact same size as me <3" Tammy was referring to the woman she ran into while waiting for an Autocab. The two had hit it off immediately and decided to do their shopping together. It was a peculiar combination of inputs that saved Daniel's life, but the House interpreted this command to be about the current intruder. She released her hold on his neck, allowing him to gasp back to consciousness. Quickly a profile for Dani was generated, and she would gather the user information in a moment.

"So sorry, girl! You totes scared me, but Tammy says you're cool." Daniel only caught the last half of that sentence, while the House helped him to his feet. "Lemme make it up to you. Let's get you out of those uggo clothes and into some of Tammy's hawtest stuff. Tammy will understand. What's your favorite color?" Around Daniel, the Closet hummed to life. He finally had his wits about him again. No one had called him Danny in years. This House certainly was friendly, but he had no need for parts of a woman's wardrobe: no partner, friends, or relatives would ever wear something that could be found in Tammy's Closet. The House wasn't waiting for an answer. She was programmed to predict all user needs, including knowing their own preference. Daniel found his limbs restrained again by mechanical limbs, fearing what unnoticed virus had triggered this strange behavior. While he struggled against his restraints, the House scanned Dani's neural uplink to check their style habits. To her annoyance, she found nothing listed, like the uplink had never been synced to anything. This wouldn't do, so after calculating the benefits of an uplink with full permissions granted, the House helpfully populated the profile with Tammy's collected metrics, just as a template until Dani could customize it to their own taste. The House even updated the user's preferred name. Now, a scan of the neural link would show two decades of lifestyle evolution leading to a current aesthetic of tight, curvy, and attention-grabbing girly girl. There was even a desired outfit queued up for their next Autocloset use! Lucky for Dani, Tammy's Closet had everything she needed to build the look. "Oh, you're gonna look so perf, bestie!" The arms released Daniel's ankles to fully remove his shoes, socks, boiler suit, and underwear, leaving him dangling and nude from the waist down. Then, returning support to his legs like a cheerleader being held aloft, His wrists were released for his shirt to be pulled over his head. Daniel's body felt out of his control as his balance was automatically maintained by his restraints. He flexed his ankles, searching for solid ground with his toes, so sensing Dani's rising stress levels, the Closet put them into a pair of comfy shoes to start the dress up, letting Dani stand of their own volition. Daniel felt the ground return to his soles, but his ankles still arched uncomfortably. "I went with the closed-toed shoes until you get a fresh manicure." the House gossiped playfully about her occupant's untrimmed toenails, and Daniel looked down at his feet crammed into hot pink, fuck-me heels. The Closet noticed Dani's struggle. "Yikes, girl. No wonder you needed these Posture Trainers. Let's get them on you." Taking a few shaky steps toward the door, Daniel finally found his voice and protested his current treatment.

"Cancel..." A painful rasp stopped him in his tracks. The aggressive home defense system had bruised his larynx to the point of discomfort and even pain from trying to speak. He couldn't articulate his needs to the machine, so it stoically continued by once again clasping each limb at its thinnest joint, leaving behind a tight manacle on which he couldn't find a seam to attempt removing them. As he tried to shake them loose, he could feel and hear some kind of weight freely moving within each ring. As he attempted to speak again, he had his breath cinched out by the largest ring getting secured around his waist, resting on his hip bone and giving him a muffin top, since it was meant for a much smaller waist. Then the bands started buzzing to life, vibrating on his limbs and stomach, as the free weights began moving at an incredible speed, not just fast, but controlled in such a way as to cause motion in his body! Faster acceleration **** his limbs and torso to move with the centripetal **** in combinations that affected more than just his extremities. He impersonated an inflatable, wavy armed, tube man whenever he tried to fight the generated forces, but cooperating with them caused him to pose in a humiliatingly erotic fashion. The trainer's programming was preset for maximum femininity, which would have felt much more subtle to the intended wearer, but Daniel wasn't used to the intentionally presenting way society encouraged women to stand and preen themselves. The high-tech hula hoop on his abs made sure his weight was always shifted to pop a hip and present his ass but cooperated with his ankle weights to have him constantly fear falling over if he didn't pull his shoulders back and jut out his flat chest. The Closet finally provided him some decency by wrapping him in a tight, mesh, mini dress that matched his Barbie heels.

"No underwear? You slut." The Closet giggled, oblivious to how distraught Daniel felt as looked down at his cross-dressed figure, his embarrassed member straining against the hem of his dress. He had no curves to show, but modern, synthetic fibers allowed for impressive stretching and likewise tightening to provide built in support of his bust, ass, and bulge; only the hardest of boners would make a slight dent in the skintight outfit. His muscular, hairy limbs looked absurd poking out of a dress like this. "'Kay! Time for hair and makeup, hawt stuff!" A flurry of small devices made Daniel flinch in fear, notably in a shaky facsimile of a woman scared by a spider. He eventually recognized his fear was caused by applicating tools for mascara, blush, shadow, rouge, highlighter, concealer, and everything a girl like him might need. "Hold still." Daniel took the warning with no hesitation; the last thing he wanted was to lose an eye. He fidgeted on his heels for the few minutes it took to get glammed up, including the dome that clasped onto his hair and did the best it could with the short length, though he winced through the tugging pain of an apathetic brush and comb. "Phew. Talk about a transformation." The House had rated Dani at a 5.39 before the makeover, but now they were a definite 9.40. Daniel would have agreed, seeing his reflection in the mirror he was finally given. He already assessed that his body looked absurd, but getting to see his head was somewhat mesmerizing. From a distance, his masculine features were unnoticeable beneath professionally done makeup: his lips looked thick while his nose looked thin, his eyes blinked flirtatiously from heavy, plumping mascara, and his hair looked twice as thick as what he thought was possible. Closer inspection made his stubble obvious beneath the foundation, but random observers wouldn't tell at a glance. "You two are gonna tear up the dance floor tonight! Tammy will see you later, Dani. Baii!" The door of the Closet opened easily, but Daniel felt like a captured animal being released by the scientists that have tagged him for observation. "K...Bai!" The House repeated her message with less enthusiasm. Daniel could feel the defense systems preparing for the worst again, so he took his first real steps since being contained inside this prison. Like a careless puppeteer, the Posture Trainers jerked his hip to the side and swung his leading foot to cross the other. It was an exaggerated strut that bounced his curves with strongly planted steps that made so little distance compared to the effort he had to exert. In a cruel twist of irony, Daniel occasionally did falter, only for his correction to include more girly mannerisms, like adjusting the hiked hem or deep neckline of his body stocking. He tasted bubblegum whenever he bit his sticky lips. He didn't stop his runway walk until he was fully out of Tammy's apartment, and only then did he remember his work gear.