Crystal disconnects to reconnect

“Do I have to?” Come the first words I've heard Crystal say all day, her fingers still tap tap tapping on her phone. “Dianna said I wouldn’t have to do anything tonight if I came out of my room.”

“Yup,” the man says, accenting the ‘p’ with a pop of impatience. “Everyone plays at least once. No exceptions.” Below him, Angel rips herself from his balls to take a single, deep inhale before instantly thrusting her painted lips back on them. The man’s taint is now a veritable scarlet.

Crystal groans and her gaze finally lifts from her phone. “Fine. I’ll play one stupid round.”

The man smacks his hand down on the table, causing Angel to jolt and bump her head on the underside. “Mazel Tov! Get on up here!” Crystal stomps up to the table to collect her card, her phone still clutched in her hand. She glares impatiently at Angel, eagerly sucking sack under the table and blocking Crystal’s path, and steps over the kneeling maid’s legs, mumbling obscenities. The man hands her a card, and she walks to the center of the room…

Before her eyebrows crook in confusion, and she pauses. “Wait, what even is this?”

The guy appears unsurprised by her reaction, smirking as he returns to casually pumping into his busty tube of titerature. “It’s your prompt, dummy. Better get cracking, I’ve already set the timer.” He points to a tiny hourglass on the table next to his laptop, the plastic timepiece rapidly filling with bone-white sand.

“But that’s not fair. I don’t even know what this word means…” she pouts, staring at the card as if it were written in hieroglyphics. “It’s not even English.”

“So look it up! You’re always on your phone, use it!”

“Nope, fuck this. I give up,” Crystal huffs, tossing the card over her shoulder and returning to her phone. “I didn’t even want to play in the first place!” She begins moving to the couch.

“A forfeit? Still counts.” The man taps a button on his computer.

Crystal suddenly freezes, as an odd expression drifts onto her face. Poof! With a puff of smoke, she disappears. Where there had once been an indignant goth girl, there is now a little plastic device, which promptly bounces across the carpet. Pushing Angel aside and walking over, the man picks up the device, before displaying the once-girl to the group.

The toy is small enough to be clutched in one hand, yet it’s distinctly bigger than the Tamagotchis I remember playing with as a kid. Rather than being egg-shaped, though, as is standard, this one is… human-shaped.

The design is actually quite intricate. The shell, made of hard plastic, has been molded and painted to look like a cartoonish, big-eyed anime rendition of Crystal. Her hair and makeup are the same, she’s got the same plaid skirt on, and her fishnet stockings are now thin ink lines, carefully cross-hatched onto her plastic legs. This version of Crystal is topless, however, as she smiles with a sultry, coquettish look in her eyes and hefts up her tits with her arms, baring them with pride. Noticeably, her breasts have grown a few cup sizes. With the way her elbows are bent, the whole model is shaped like a droopy lower-case t.

The screen itself is built into her torso, a muddy green square that starts just below her enhanced boobs and terminates just above her skirt. There are three buttons, with one big one placed directly on her crotch, and two nubby pink buttons serving as her nipples.

Crystal is now little more than a cute novelty item to trade and swap around with friends, small enough to hang off a purse via keychain to bring on the go. These virtual pet games were all the rage back in the nineties and early 2000s, so I’m not surprised Crystal hadn’t heard of them before she was turned into one, though I can’t help feeling a little old.

Dianna frowns, looking at the cheap plastic toy as the man holds it out to her. “This is my niece now? I don’t think my sister is going to be too happy about this…”

“Ahh, she’ll come around,” the man says, tapping a few of Crystal’s buttons. Bitcrushed beeps and tones emit from her built-in speaker as he does, sounding distinctly like digitized squeaks of pleasure.

For a moment, he seems intrigued by the properties of the miniature girl, but then he receives a soft hand on his inner thigh, courtesy of his maid.

“Your balls, sir…” Angel croaks, her eyes staring longingly at his crimson sack. “Not clean enough…” She’s panting, very clearly worked up. Her gaze trails from his balls to the tip of his dick, hungrily.

He looks down at her in her skimpy fetish uniform, tugging at his leg hairs, then to me.

“Boring toy anyway. Here, catch.”

He tosses Crystal, taking me off guard as she smacks into my face and lands in my lap. “Ow,” I mutter, rubbing my nose where it hit me.

“I’m gonna put the ol’ ball-rinser through her paces. You can, ah, play with that, seeing as you’ve already participated today.” He scoops up a fistful of Angel’s blonde hair and pulls her back to his seat.

I nod placidly. Seems a bit odd for a coffee machine to be playing with toys, but the part of me that would have argued back is far too mucky with coffee grounds right now (I really oughta start my clean cycle soon…), so it’s easier to just agree. I pick the toy up from my lap just as Angel opens her mouth wide between his thighs, preparing to cram both his cock and balls into her mouth at once.

Crystal feels sturdy, or about as sturdy as any cheapo electronic toy can be. Turning over the little device in my hands, I notice “Crystal-gotchi®” written in a fiery font across her skirted butt, as well as a little screw embedded in the small of her back that holds the battery compartment in place. Best not to mess with that, methinks.

Turning it back over, I can see the little screen clearly now, the low-resolution black-and-green display showing what appears to be a pixelated chibi-style representation of Crystal, bobbing up and down idly. Her once omnipresent phone is nowhere to be found as she simply stares forward at me, smiling sweetly.

Suddenly, a text box appears just below her form, accompanied by a tiny beep. I’M HUNGRY. Spotting a tiny bar at the top of the screen labelled HUNGR, I see that, indeed, the bar is nearly filled. Since I used to have a couple of these, I know how to get food. You’ve just gotta play minigames and stuff. I press the right nipple, which plays a cheerful chime and leads me to a menu of different games and, kind of bored already, I just pick the first one on the list, ‘Panty Playtime!’

As I select the game, the low-res representation of Crystal’s face morphs into a >w< for a moment, emitting a crushed 'tee-hee' before holding up her skirt and positioning her fingers against the crotch of her pixel panties. A bouncy chiptune song begins squeaking from the tiny speakers, and the UI disappears, replaced by a clock ticking down from 45 seconds and a single text blurb. RUB!

Exploratively pressing the big button located between the plastic gadget’s legs, I see Crystal’s digital hand moving ever-so-slightly, up and down with each press as the machine beeps. So do I just have to spam this? Hammering my thumb onto the button with increasing fervency, I watch her fingers move quicker and quicker, pixelated sweat drops appearing around her head like a halo as she grins in cartoonish rapture. Beeps, sighs, and moans burst from the machine, increasing in frequency and pitch the faster I mash the button. I feel a tad embarrassed doing this, putting as much effort as I am into pleasuring this silly little machine, but I am on a time limit here. I see as it approaches thirty seconds, then twenty, then ten...

Finally, with only two seconds on the clock, a high-pitched squeal emits from the device as the screen flashes, quickly loading a different graphic. Almost like a cutscene, it’s a close-up of Crystal’s face with her head tilted back, eyes in the back of her head and mouth open in lusty, drooling pleasure-- a pixely Ahegao face. Strangely enough, I can feel the device vibrate in my hands as the Crystal on screen “finishes,” another quirk that certainly wasn't in any Tamagotchis when I was a kid. Man, Crystal’s generation is so spoiled…

After the CG clears, I'm rewarded with a popsicle, which I promptly feed her. Grinning, she suckles on the treat suggestively, her eyes gazing coquettishly at me beyond the screen. Cute pixel hearts bubble up around her, as the HUNGR meter drops to zero. Phew. Now I know why I stopped collecting these things - they’re surprisingly stressful!

Well, I’m done for now. I know from experience there’s not much to do except feed her and play the games, and my thumb is still burning from having to spam that damn button so many times. Maybe I’ll get back to it later - for now, I simply toss the perverted toy onto the coffee table, where she lands with an unresisting clatter.

“So, whaddya think of Crystal? She any fun?” I hear from across the room. The man is grinning as if privy to a private joke as Angel grinds her panty-clad ass against his lap, swishing her monochrome feather duster across the fold-out table. Lipstick–stained drool drips from the corner of her mouth as she pushes her butt back, hot-dogging the man’s cock between her olive cheeks.

"I guess so? She's a novelty, for sure..." As little as I have to say about the girl-turned-game, he doesn't even seem to be listening. Humping between Angel's cheeks, he pulls at her waistband and, with professional haste, she deftly drops her thin panties to her ankles, kicking them onto the floor next to her skirt, which forces Oscar to meekly walk over and retrieve them. As he does, he passes by the magazine, flopped open onto the ground, slowly drying fluids dripping from the cleavage of the thing’s breasts.

A sudden wave passes over me, and I clutch at my chest. It’s the feeling from before, that nagging, anxious itch that something isn't quite right. I cough, trying to push it away, but it lingers like a dark cloud.

Dianna still appears at unrest with her niece's fate as she takes another gulp of her wine. “Y'know I don’t really get how Crystal was supposed to win if she didn’t even know the word…”

The man shakes his head. “Well, I wouldn’t really call any of this winning. Nobody here is winning. Except me, I suppose.” He chuckles, darkly.

I guess he’s right. I sure don’t feel like I’ve won much, even though I correctly guessed mine. I suppose my boobs are bigger, and warmer, and I get free coffee now. But being a girl-shaped appliance means I probably can’t hold down a job anymore. Or vote. So I guess it evens itself out?

Dianna seems unsatisfied with his answer. “I think you should have let her pick another card.”

On the other side of the room, Caitlyn is staring at Angel’s blatant display of sexual congress, enrapt, her legs spread as she openly traces a finger down her thigh. Ashe sneaks a few glimpses at her couchmate and blushes.

The guy shoots Dianna a look. “Alright, sweetie, put it in my fuckin’ suggestion box." He motions his head towards me as he squeezes Angel's butt with both hands, "Now listen, how about you go grab me a cappuccino, okay? Getting thirsty over here."

Dianna sighs. Turning to me with a half-smile, she shakes her head. "Men," she says, grabbing a nearby cup. She places the cup in my hand, held beneath my left tit, and kneels down, shifting awkwardly as her flowered apron gets caught around her knees. Settling into position, she makes a satisfied sound as she nestles her lips against my pussy.

Her tongue begins sliding up, and my boobs begin inflating to their proper volume as liquid begins to crest at each nipple. Biting my lip, I use my free hand to clutch a fistful of Dianna's brown hair, and the cloud in my chest is quickly overshadowed by the sparkles that twinkle into existence inside my head.

Did I mention I love my job?