Use the tool on the fembot

You attach the tool via a short cable to one of the fembot's open ports. The fembot suddenly jolts upright and stiffens, it's eyes freezing wide in shock. There's a whole bunch of numbers scrolling by quickly on the tool's screen, none of which you have the foggiest idea to what they could mean. Not really knowing what to do, you start fiddling with some of the knobs on the tool. A whole bunch of numbers turn red, which can't be a good sign. In panic to return everything back to normal, you continue to turn the dials, but all that manages to do is turn a whole lot more numbers red.

"SUB-BOT personality routine met with impossible error. Disabling SUB-BOT personality routine. Activating uncorrupted backup DOM-BOT personality routine instead." The fembot grabs the tool from your hand and rips the link cable from the socket. "I am going to make you my BITCH."

It grabs you by the collar and punches you square in the face, sending you reeling backwards to lean against the wall. The fembot hops off the table and cooly walks towards you, and then before you can react swiftly bends over to grab your leg. You're uprooted in one quick motion and you fall onto your back hard. It steps on your face, smearing the foot around over your features. The foot is hard plastic at the heel and the toe line, but inbetween it's soft, black rubber. The toes play with your nose, your lip, poking you in the eyes; the fembot watches sadistically, or as sadistically as a robot can look, it's emotionless face from before completely gone. It's foot trails down your body to your stomach, pressuring down hard. You try to grab her leg and throw her off, but you didn't realise just how strong the fembot is, and all that manages to do is make it step on you harder.

Out of mercy or perhaps boredom, the fembot lifts its foot off you, allowing you to breathe normally again, but before you're able to recuperate the fembot sits down on top of you, it's ass planted down on your cushioned belly. It chuckles and grinds itself on you; the fembot is heavier than it looks. It twists it's body away and the fembot begins to roughly handle your cock through your pants, squeezing you painfully, almost as if it wanted to rip your cock off.

"Erection at 87.4%," it says while pushing your pants off, "was it my feet or me being rough that got you so hard?" The fembot lies on top of you like a chaise longue, it's feet once again at your face. This time it forces it's big toe into your mouth...

...but before it can go any further the door suddenly opens. It's the woman who was working on the fembot before, holding a cup of steaming cup noodles in her hand. You see her face clearly now, wrinkled and mature, somehow cruel looking, like a stern no-nonsense teacher. Perhaps its the eyebrows seemingly stuck in a permanent diagonal position. She almost doesn't notice you at first, but when she looks in your direction and sees what you're doing to her fembot she freezes, nearly dropping her noodles.

"Wha- How did you-" she stammers, "-initiate bind and capture protocol!"

The fembot stops forcing its feet at your face and wraps it's legs around your neck. It curls its back back and unnaturally bends its arms backwards around your legs, binding them together. You struggle, but then it hisses a cloud of pink directly at your face from its vagina, like an inkjet from a squid. You recoil, but the gas **** your nostrils. If you had to describe it it's like glass shards covered in Tabasco being **** down your lungs. You let out a single, pained scream that gets cut off abruptly as you go limp and pass out.