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Jax’s plan, at least on the face of it, is very simple.
- Conjure female genitalia
- Conjure an NPC to teach him how to use it
- ???
- Acquire excess of returns over expenditure
The first attempt, which had involved letting the computer get creative with his brain scan and filling in the gaps with his patchy, limited conjuring skills, was much easier than he'd thought it would be…a roaring success from the moment he didn’t end up with an asshole in the center of his face. A little too roaring, actually.
The problem was that the first NPC model, a red furred rabbit, had been everything he’s ever found attractive in a woman, along with everything he wants to be as a woman, and a handful of things his mother never was. Her hair was Ariel’s from The Little Mermaid, her voice an agonizing hybrid of Pomni’s and Ribbit’s, and if he squinted, he swore he could see flickers of both Gangle and Zooble. Even her name, Blaze, was the name of the childhood toy cat that he used to put dresses on. Freud would have had a goddamn field day with her.
If he’d let her loose on him, one of two things would have happened: either he’d have fallen madly in love or he’d have crashed and burned and abstracted all over again. So that was back to the drawing board.
Take two was a little too clinical: a talking dentist chair with a piston at the lower end. Spreader bars, for some uncomfortable reason. Gangle would have probably taken it off his hands in a heartbeat. It was at that point that he’d realized bringing these things to life solely for the purpose having sex with them might be a little morally dubious.
Enter take three: an existing part of Caine’s adventures with a very simple AI, more of a talking accessory than a functioning character. A pair of disembodied white gloves with a smiling cartoon mouth in between a neat little curve, Jax wants to say it’s cut from the same base model as those godawful horror hands from Spudsy’s. Caine once used it for an adventure that involved tickle torture as a g-rated punishment, and of all the things Jax had hated about that venture, he hated that the stupid thing all but molested you without the decency to get you off the most.
Recycling it is a far cry from ideal and there are some hiccups with the dialogue that were unfixable without asking for help (out of the question), but Jax is both profoundly nervous and almost spiritually horny, and as ready as he’ll ever be.
“HELLO, EROTIC EXPLORER!” blares the set of hands in a voice that isn’t definitively gendered, which is nice, but also not particularly sexy. Jax can’t help but feel ridiculous, sitting there clad in a little pair of lacy black underwear and absolutely nothing else like he expected someone hotter to show up, and it’s only the prospect of those fingers doing something other than speaking which keeps him rooted to the spot.
“Uh…hey, I guess—"
“That’s wonderful! My name is [HANDS.SIDD.] As you know, I’m here to help acclimate you to your new female reproductive system. Please be aware that this encounter may include, but is not limited to: escalating romantic and/or erotic dialogue, sexual contact, expulsion of fluid, possible chafing, numbness—"
“No, I gathered, yeah,” says Jax, feeling the first inklings of a headache. “I’m okay with all that.”
“Consent received and processed. Now, before we get into anything else, is there anything you’d like me to call you?”
“Just Jax is fine. Why fix what isn't broken?”
“Would you like me to call you she/her tonight?”
Slapped together bot or no, just being asked is like staring into the sun. It’s a succinct reminder of why he’s starting with the sex screensaver and not with another human he’ll have to spend the rest of eternity staring down at breakfast. “No! I mean, yes. I mean…kind of. Anything is fine.”
“Alright then! We’ll take it slowly.”
Jax gulps, suddenly very aware of his own body, the dropping out sensation in his chest. “Well, you know…we don’t have to take it too slow.” What he means is that he didn’t spawn it in for small talk, and what he really means is that if he’s given too much time to linger in his own head, he’ll back out of this entirely. “Might as well get right down to it.”
“In that case, please lie back for the beginning of lesson one.” Mouth dry as a pumice stone, hands already shaking, Jax does so. “Do I have permission to remove your panties?”
The nod he gives is barely perceptible (although he likes that it calls them that), so much so that it fails to register until he gives another, more definitive one. His eyes lock onto the wall like he’s watching it sail off to war. It’s not until gloved fingertips drag along the outside of his knees that he realizes he’s got them locked together in an unfailing death grip.
“There is no need to proceed if you’re uncomfortable.”
Jax does know this, of course, but it still makes him feel better to hear it. “Nah, not uncomfortable. Feels like I’m having a cough syrup dream, but not uncomfortable.”
It nods understandingly, which given the model’s limitations, comes across as more of a wobble. “When you are ready, please allow your knees to fall apart.”
And something about the clinical phrasing of that strikes Jax as unexpectedly sexy. It reminds him of his old high school nurse…the one that always had him turning in excuse notes and meningitis vaccination records in baggy pants, because he didn’t trust himself in anything more form fitting. A deep breath later, then another two, he parts his knees, trembling with a sense of exposure that’s not entirely unpleasant.
The AI doesn’t go straight for home plate the way he expected it to, circling his lower belly and upper thighs with surprising tenderness. After a moment, Jax recalls that it did that in another life as well, back when it was part of Caine’s weird adventure. It was kind of hot then and even moreso now. “The vulva you’ve chosen is very streamlined. Very cute.”
Jax exhales a shuddering breath “Thanks. It’s, um…kind of what I always pictured.”
As it continues to round his intimate regions, it places its free hand behind his ears, rubbing the bases with a thumb. It’s a comforting gesture, one that takes his jackhammering heartrate down just a notch or two, but enough that he finds himself capable of glancing in the general direction of what it’s doing to him. In spite of its confusing past and Nick Jr.-esque anatomy, it’s exactly what he needs right now.
“You’re doing very well,” it says kindly, and Jax’s heart wriggles and squirms like a happy dog. “Assurance loading: I’m going to take good care of you.”
“…Thank you.”
“Do I have permission to touch your vulva?”
“…Yes, please.” The floating mouth smiles, like the thing is so damn proud of him. Like his trust is a precious thing it’ll put on a shelf, or stick to the fridge.
He can’t help but gasp when it happens. Light as a butterfly’s wing, just the fingertips sliding gently up and down his outer lips before gently spreading him open. The first time anyone’s ever touched him here, assuming this counts as someone. He has no idea whether it does, and will worry about that later.
“Would you like me to explain how to locate each anatomical structure?”
“Um, I think I’m good. I know which hole is which. I’m not going to end up sounding myself by accident or anything.”
“Then do I have permission to begin clitoral stimulation?”
“Sure, that was the whole PL-AAN!” Jax nearly jolts out of his skin. “Shit!”
“Is it too much?”
“No, that’s fine!” His voice coming too high, too fast, but it’s not a lie by any means. It’s completely fine, totally fine, the furthest thing from not fine, as a matter of fact. “Keep up the good work…please.”
The AI obliges him. “The visible portion of the clitoris is only a small percentage of it. It’s actually a much larger wishbone shaped structure, and the neural pathways leading to it can change depending on pregnancy or lactation. It will be up to you to play around with yours, to discover what you enjoy most. You can gently rub it, as I’m doing now. Some enjoy flicking it, like this.”
“Yeah! Yeah, that works alright!”
“Or stroking it up and down, like so. Like an erect penis, an aroused clitoris also engorges with blood and extends in length. Yours has reached a state of tumescence.”
“…How ‘bout that?”
“Consider a circling motion, as I’m now doing--”
“Oh!” A sharp gasp. “Oh, fuck…”
“Is that the one you enjoy most?”
“Mm-nnn.…”
His head is turned back towards the wall now, eyes closed tightly. The bot runs its unoccupied fingers through his chest fur while continuing to fondle him. “You’re very responsive. Loading suggestive praise: Doing such a good job for me.”
Jax whimpers, and believes it.
It carries on that way for a while, touch so delicate it’s hard for him to believe the way his body is responding to it. It’s a little like playing with the head of his cock, but stronger, more intense, and Jax isn’t sure whether that’s for biological reasons or something more psychological. All he knows is that if the AI stopped right now, he’d run across hot coals to have its hands back on him.
“Do I have permission to insert a single finger?” it asks, and Jax nods, still without looking at it. If he can’t see it, then surely it can’t see him, the redness of his face and the pathetic, submissive desperation there. He expected that it would most likely know what it was doing, never that it would know how to play him like a fucking fiddle.
He never feels it pull back to lube up its fingers from the bedside table, but when its touch slips inward, entering him ever so carefully, he can tell that it’s become warm and wet. It’s not painful, but it’s alien and invasive and pleasurable all at once, and he gives another feeble little sound.
“Please relax,” it urges. “You’re responding beautifully. Remember to keep breathing. You’re not breathing.”
Jax does so, just in time to prevent that from happening. Buggy AI or not, he could never live with himself if it saw that.
Dimly remembering that there’s supposed to be an element of a learning exercise to this, he tries to take a mental note of what it’s doing, the careful tract of its wrist as it eases back and forth. If it had been up to him, he would have just started blithely hammering away at himself like he’s seen in porn, and that’s not what it’s doing here. It’s a smoother motion, thumb working his clit in perfect time, and with every second that passes, the strangeness is turning into something he can feel all through his pelvis, working its way up his spine.
“Is this good?”
“Um…it’s really good. Really, really good, actually.”
“You’re beginning to rock into my hand.”
Is he really? He hadn’t even noticed.
“Do I have your permission to insert a second finger?”
“Lay it on me.”
The second finger is harder than the first, enough to make him hiss a little through his teeth, but it’s become abundantly clear by now that Hands.SIDD – fuck, he’s beginning to wish he’d given it a real name -- is a consummate expert and before long, he realizes, not without a considerable note of pride, that he’s taking its fingers like a champ.
“I’m now going to apply deep, digital pressure upwards, which will stimulate your Gräfenberg spot, colloquially known as the g-spot. At this point, you’re going to feel yourself becoming even wetter. Do I have your permission to--”
“Yes!” moans Jax, dizzying senses far less discerning than they’d been when this began. “God, yes!”
Spreading his legs, nails locked onto the sheets, he can tell when it begins to curl its fingers upwards and towards itself, just like the books say. He waits for the thunderclap, for the moment that gets him groaning on pure reflex like the first time he hit his own prostate with a shitty vibrator he bought at the mall, but nothing happens aside from a general flutter of pleasantness.
“Sometimes this process takes time,” it assures, as though reading his thoughts. For all he knows, it can.
“It’s nice,” he admits. Getting nicer by the second, actually.
“When carrying out this process for yourself, what you’ll want to do is stroke towards yourself along the anterior wall of the vagina, until you encounter an area that’s slightly more textured than the surrounding tissues. Some find it easier to locate this spot after an orgasm, for others it’s just the opposite. You might feel it swell and get harder...”
And then, its explanation trails off into a kind of faraway ringing, into elevator music. The faintly pleasant sensation becomes softer, thicker, fatter, oozing up through his thighs and morphing into a deep, pulsing pleasure. Once upon a time, he remembers being hit with a fever and lying in bed feeling that his limbs had swollen up impossibly huge while the rest of the world stayed small. This feels like the orgasmic equivalent of that.
His eyes betray it before anything else. The AI smiles knowingly, and god help him, it hits him that it reminds him of Pomni’s smile.
“Good girl.”
And, flash. In the blink of an eye, Jax is moaning hopelessly, involuntarily, squirming and squirming, tail flying a mile a minute like a wadded up ball of grape cotton candy set to a bare electrical wire. The set of hands presses down on his pubic bone as it continues to work him, and thick sloshing of liquid rings loud as a bell in his ears.
“Oh fuck…oh my god, oh my god…oh, shit…!”
He almost doesn’t recognize the sensation of a full bladder creeping up, having gone without it for years, but when it hits, it’s downright textbook. He knew full well to expect it and still wouldn’t bet his soul on the possibility that he isn’t about to do something that will have him going celibate for the rest of his life--
“There is no need to worry,” it soothes. “That feeling is perfectly natural.”
The right hand is working faster now, its thumb playing his clit like a symphony, and Jax can do little but hold on for dear life, dimly aware that he’s getting louder, too loud, and increasingly past caring about anything. The way it’s pinning down his hips causes the sudden thought to flash across his head that he wishes he’d kept the dentist’s chair, wants to be tied up and spread open and made to cum over and over again--
“You’re very close now.” It feels like being tied to the train tracks and seeing the light chugging closer. “Please relax and allow yourself come to orgasm.”
“Ahhh…y-yes, please…please, make me cum…”
“I intend to.”
And Jax makes a sound that’s half quavering moan, half choking sob. Nothing about the way he’s existing is voluntary anymore, hips bucking and spine quivering and limbs moving of their own accord, and at some point, he dives headfirst into what the AI calls him so effortlessly. She stops thinking, and if she isn’t thinking then she isn’t thinking about what that extra letter means or what it will change or living up to it, or any of what happened because of it. She can be just as exactly where she is, in this precise and fantastic moment, no more and no less.
The hands are flying now, the sound of wetness flying thick and filthy. Jax’s entire face is tingling like mad. The pressure has built to fever pitch and she’s not sure whether to embrace it or try to fight it back, keep it going as long as possible.
“Now, pretty one. Let it go. Let it happen.”
Jax doesn’t deny it. Couldn’t if she tried.
“FUCK! FUCK!!! AHHHH!”
It hits her with all the weight of a freight engine and all the softness of beach sand. Arching like a bow, she feels herself milk the fingers of what used to be Caine’s AI. It lasts so long that for a moment towards the end, she’s pretty sure it actually is dying, so much so that it’s almost not fun anymore. But little by little it fades, letting her go kindly, and she finds she’s still there. Shaking and jittering from head to toe, chest heaving, but still breathing.
The sands are still there as well, artificial smile one of approval.
“Concluding assurance: Bravo, dear. You did wonderfully.”
Jax licks her lips, and whispers through the quivering:
“Oh…”
“How do you feel?”
“Oh,” Jax repeats. “Oh…my…god…”
“That’s a perfectly normal reaction.”
Eventually, she remembers where she is and what simple colors and shapes mean, and with it comes a return to the way she usually thinks of herself. But for whatever reason, in this moment, it doesn’t feel like a loss so much. Feels like a little house down by the lake, a split second jaunt away from the place she lives in now, and Jax doesn’t have to pay rent on either one.
“Would you like some water? It’s important to stay hydrated.” Jax shakes his head, still too out of breath to speak much. “You ejaculated copiously, you know. Not everyone is capable of female ejaculation, but it looks like you’re one of the lucky ones.”
“Huh. I was hoping that’s what I felt soaking into my ass,” quips Jax dryly, still not able to really look at his temporary paramour directly. The terrible fear of being seen is a given, but he also worries that if he looks, post-nut clarity’s going to hit him and he’s going to realize he crafted a pussy for himself and let a faceless, formless sex ed teacher finger it, and remember why that’s not something he’s proud to admit.
“When and if you’re ready, I can teach you how to do that to yourself, if you’d like. Or I can help bring you to climax in another way. One advantage of having a vulva is that you can have multiple orgasms in short succession.”
“Nah, I’m good,” says Jax, at the corner of sleepy and spent and not wanting to push it while he's in a good place, but also feeling like he should ask the AI if it wants him to do anything to it. It might be the virtual equivalent of a BonziBuddy attached to a Taka Kato hand vibrator, but the one thing he’s not is a selfish lover. “…Thanks for that. It helped, I think.”
“I’m glad to hear it. In that case our encounter is completed. Goodbye, and enjoy the wonders of the feminNNN-N-NNN—"
On the final glitching consonant, it disappears into the ether without fanfare. Jax counts his blessings that this didn’t happen while it was inside him.
He rolls over, closes his eyes…opens them, wipes his soaking crotch down with the dry end of the sheets, throws them aside, and lays back down again, listening to his own heartbeat. He’s just about nodded off when he hears the door ease open, then softly slide shut again. He doesn’t need to speak to know who it is, and unlike the AI, they know they don’t need permission to ease into the bed behind him, arms about his chest.
“How did it go?” asks Pomni. “How are you feeling?”
Her breath on his neck. The faint scent of peppermint that follows her sometimes. Her warmth and softness.
The way being with her is what abstracted felt like...not the sense of drowning that came before, not the raw, despairing terror of the end, but the sense of sublime, perfect peace that came after they'd all settled him into the comforting dark.
Like I’ve just been powerwashed. Like I want you inside me. Like you can do better than a fucked up gender mess who won’t let you look at their girl mode and needs to use a robot.
“Like I can’t feel my legs,” he says instead. “Is that what it’s always like for you guys? Holy shit, how do you get anything else done?”
“Hah, I wish it was. I don’t know what your ‘thing’ you wanted to try was exactly, but I’ll have what you’re having.”
“Oh, crap…was I being that loud?”
“Don’t worry. No one else was around.”
“Ugh. Well…not the most embarrassing thing you know about me, I guess."
"Maybe," she says in that way of hers. "...You wanna tell me how you're really doing?"
It's one of those questions that's tempting to dodge, and it helps to remember that he could. Still, he has to ponder on it for a while.
"...I feel better off than I was, somehow. Like I it's some kind of a step in the right direction. Maybe. I don't know."
He feels her smile against his neck.
“I’m really, really glad to hear that.”
His heart patters at that, his tail twitching right on cue, so smack-stupid happy it’s sick, and that scares him. She’s the only one who even has an inkling of what he’s been doing in here, and he knows for a fact he’d be too clingy and paranoid to let her do the same if the shoe were on the other foot. There’s just no way this can be real. No way it’ll last.
“Just so you know, this was an experiment, like leaning on the pool jet. Okay? This won’t be forever, I promise--”
“Jax, you’re slurring like a drunk. Sleep now. Worry about everything else later.” Her gloved fingers toy with the ends of his ears, as they’re prone to do when they’re laying like this. “But also, don’t worry about that. Okay? I don't mind, really. And if it takes forever, forever’s exactly what we’ve got.”
Blinking back the mist in his eyes, Jax rolls around so he can tuck his head under her chin. Holds her closer, tighter, so she can’t slip away in the night. But before he does…
“…Someday, I want you to fuck me so hard my brain shuts off…”
Pomni chuckles against the top of his head. The sound is medicine; the feeling is home.
“It’s a date.”