Everything from Vampires who don't frigging Glitter in the sun to panda throwing ninja squirrels who dress in purple skirts (personal favorite)
Play your cards right and there might even be a home baked cookie in it for you :-o.Serving a half God
(Male/male, Male/female, Magic, servitude, age gap, supernatural, Adventure, romance, twisted romance, humor, war, bondage, fantasy)Servitude in death
Bright red orbs looked up from folded, naked hands to admire the scenery that passed by as the clouds sluggishly made its way up the mountainside. The sun was slowly yielding to the upcoming nightfall--casting a blood-red brilliance upon the clouds and sky. To the young man, it was one of the most beautiful and fitting sunsets he’d ever seen. It was certainly enough to take his mind off the matters of state. Every creature breathed and each creature existed amid this large and blooming capital. Candidly to them, the denizens culminated there, did one frame lurk, its limbs coiled up, mildly tense, though unafraid of the foreboding shadow.
He stood at the top of a large balcony, naked flesh exposed to the cold air, not bothering him in the slightest. A small runic symbol on his right neck marked him as the blood, the leading caste of this little… empire. For as long as his people could remember, his kind had been the one in charge. Only the foundations of this keep knew of another time before his kind.
He brought his slender frame to one of the mirrors in his chambers, glancing at the expression. One might have guessed his height around five feet, give or take a few inches. His short white hair danced in the wind, a vile imitation of containing life. The youth vaguely remembered having dark brown hair before he escaped from humanity, part of the curse that affected his family.
He brought his digits to his ears as he brushed a few strands of hair away from them, feeling the pointed tips. His ancestor had been one of the To’kra, or Ancient ones as commoners called themselves now. Although most of his form came from his human ancestors he did have some Ancient traits, mostly giving his body more ‘youthfull’ touch. He slid his frame in the expensive dark silk, feeling it slide against his skin. He carefully wrapped a small thin piece of cloth around his middle, fastening the garb.
Grabbing the large black cloak and wrapping it around his frame, he brought the hood upwards, shielding his hair and face. The hood alone brought enough darkness to hide his face, yet he placed another item there. A thin mask was placed over his face, lined with thin lines of silver, shielding his features from commoner’s eyes. The mask itself held no enhancement or enchantment besides the occasional grease for polishing. Sliding two twin silver daggers behind his sash, he left the room, stepping into darkness. He tried to remember why darkness and shadows gave him a comforting feeling.
First in line for to the eternal throne, heir to the realm, Prince Lancius Oridium. The young man actually hated the titles and long fancy name, preferring to call himself Lance. The change into ‘godhood’ had happened three years ago. He was human then, only displaying the soft pointed ears and fair skin. When the change took him he was bed ridden for weeks, young body thrashing as the torment of magic assaulted his frame again and again. His hair was drained of color and his brown eyed changed into a bright red. He was no longer human on that day, nor would he ever.
He seemingly stepped out of the shadow in his chambers, taking his place on a large throne carved out of single piece of oak. He smiled gently as he noticed the chest board in next to him A single white pawn was placed in the middle of the field, surrounded by black pieces on all fronts. Behind that sea of black was single grey piece of wood. He heard the door open, casting a dim light in his chambers. He slid the grey piece towards the white one in the center as he chuckled. He loved games, would his visitor as well?
Lance eyed the tall warrior as the warrior stepped in the room. The warrior moved with a cats grace and looked as calm as any knight that was rewarded with first rank. They usually seemed to be only seconds away from tearing out people’s throats and at the same time dance the most delicate dance with a maiden. Lance found it fascinating how they could simply ooze that confidence and power. He basked in the warrior’s glory as he held out his right hand, signaling the warrior to move closer. While magic was an everyday occurrence in this realm, and a rarity in others, it did have significant disadvantages. A large spell or incantation required long and tedious channeling from multiple mages. Most people who were magically sensitive used other means to strengthen their channeling. Some used potions others crystals. There was even an unusual fellow who used a wand, funny really. While most of the country was run by magic, it was a weak yet stable process. The ancient ones were different, capable of engulfing entire cities in fire or draining oceans. Legend spoke off their might, claiming it matched that of the creator itself. Although the Oridium was technically a half breed, people still assumed they could match the powers that the creators had. Lance eyed the young warrior as he watched its expression.
“I would hear your name and oath.”
How would the warrior respond to the slender youthful frame sitting at that throne, clad in darkness with orbs of fire.
(Male/male, Male/female, Group, Necromancer, Magic, blood play, age gap, supernatural, Adventure, Rape, twisted romance, Experiments, servitude, soft gore, bondage, risk of pregnancy) The Cupboard.
The outer ring was beautiful at night. Fireflies darted under the streetlamps like small fires, while the stars and moon cast a soft ambient light over the ornately carved inner wall.
A tall man – clearly from another city, by his dark cloak and shady appearance – drew in a deep breath, savoring the town's air.
To say that the hooded stranger did not leave home often would be an understatement. He was the type who tended to seclude himself rather than the more... hands-on... business he had forced to undertake now. It wasn't that he was unskilled in this mingling with humans – he was easily a gifted conversationalist – but could hardly stand it.
The hooded figure was in the city of rings to take a life. His long grey hair was skillfully hidden underneath the hood, careful that no one would see his silver like hair. He gave a tug on both his gloves, making sure that his long digits were slid in properly. He exhaled and inhaled once again, making sure his breathing was steady and ready for the part ahead. A man who breathed easily and could control his breathing during an inhumane act would be far less likely to mess up.
Making his way around the corner he spotted the targets, five well-armed mercenaries guarding a small group of traders, making their way towards the city gates. He stalked them as they made their way outside, tracking their movements whilst spotting their defensive and offensive capabilities.
He licked his lips as he counted their heads. For a necromancer a group like this would either prove fatal or reward him with a nice supplement of servants. Already in his mind he began to divide them into groups of minions. Ghouls, zombies, corrupt ones or simple human captives, all would be a welcome addition. He fingered the small dagger he now held in his right hand, his thumb tracing the poison stained tip. “Let us see what the night brings.” He whispered slowly before fading into the night.
( Male/male, Male/female, Male/other, Size difference, Magic device, cum-play, secrecy, fantasy, multiple characters.) The Dark Church.
Nearly thirty years had passed since Omri had used the cupboard and brought Little Bear and Boone to life. He had learned much from the two and carried it with him into adulthood, becoming a writer and father. Yet life’s tragedies are spared for no man. The newspapers spoke of a horrific accident down at Main Street, four cars completely totaled. On that day 9 people died, including the writer Omri. Soon after his belongings were either sold off or simply dumped, including his Cupboard. For thirty years the cupboard had been dormant, waiting for the day it would seduce another owner.
After thirty years it finally got what it wanted, a new wielder of its power, a young man in his late teens. He found the Cupboard at an old garage sale. He bought the Cupboard and three lamps, deciding it was a decent enough purchase. He was getting ready to go to college, the final and best chapter of his youth. Already the young man was imagining experiences beyond a simple kiss and tug he had received in this town. Yes, college was going to be awesome. He brought the Cupboard back home and placed the lamps at the attic, knowing he wouldn’t need them until he was at college. He glanced around his room and noticed the boxes filled with Lego and toys. He had been quite a toy hoarder these past years, collecting almost everything. He knew it was childish and weird to still keep them, yet he couldn’t simply dump them. They had sentimental value.
He grabbed an old toy of his and placed it in the cupboard, not fully sure why. He turned the key once and then back again, checking the condition of the locking mechanism. When he pried open the door again he crawled backwards, his face pale as milk.
(shamelessly stolen from the movie ‘The Indian in the Cupboard’.
Looking for a Game Master/Mistress or someone to scene out a single/multiple toy/s)
( Male/male, Male/female, Male/Other, Demonic nature, Heavy character development, Humanity play, age gap, supernatural, Older male/younger male, older male/younger female, Older male/ younger other, Younger male/Older female, drama, psychological twists, Religion)The Grey Fang
On the day of Lance Ot’sirs initiation, it rained. It was not a light shower, no. It poured. What was that old wives' tale? Lance thought as he stood at the foot of the church waiting for one of the nuns to appear. Right. If it rains on your wedding the first seven years of marriage are supposed to be blissful. It was a fitting saying, seeing as he was about be married to the church. Lance wished he could say that his breath caught in his throat when he saw the doors opening, giving way to his path to righteousness and divine servitude. The young man was distracted, rightfully so.
He shook the negative thoughts from his mind as he walked towards the nun who had opened the door. He nodded casually as he knelt down in front of the church. His true life was beginning now.
Three weeks had passed without incidents, except his nightmares. Every night he would be haunted by them, buried into a sea of lust, pain and sorrow. He had no doubt this was because of his vow. The human mind had a strange way of dealing with fears and doubts, no doubt this was a test of god. He would stay faithful and serve the lord as he had promised. The church ground consisted of a large church, three large dormitories, a large library and the crypts. The location was just five miles south of the town of Rockspoint.
The relationship between the church and the town was one of understanding and co-dependency. The church received a yearly donation of wine and food for their service and in return they would take in wife’s, boys and girls who needed some ‘discipline’ and some teachings in ‘humility’. Nothing would put the fear and joy of god into a person when under the watchful eye of the church. The church staff consisted of five nurses, one head priest and could offer board for twenty five boys and twenty five girls and women.
For a month all was well in the house of god. Their head priest had died of old age and a young, yet promising, man was installed as the new head priest. The man was a faithful shepherd of the lord and had served in the first crusade as a cleric. He had seen the darkest side of the lord and still kept his faith. A man like that would no doubt do wonders for this little church and nearby town. And in just one month time he had gained the respect and love from all of his flock. He was a just, yet strict man. He shed a tear when he disciplined someone and laughed generously when he loved someone. The man was a paragon of the church, a true saint in years to come perhaps. Yet for all his goodness, he carried something dark and unholy. A gift he had received during the first crusade. When an arrow took him in the chest, he fell, slowly disappearing into darkness. The arrow tip had pierced his heart and gashed open the red fuel of life.
When Lance awoke again he was breathing and unharmed. Not even a small scar was on his chest, as if the arrow had never been there. At first he had thought it to be the act of god, yet that night the nightmares had begun. Each night increasing in violence and perversion. At first he had thought it to be a test of god or simply mental scarring from what he had seen during the duration of the crusade, yet he could not help but feel like he was changing. As if something had spared his life during the crusaded and had slipped inside of him. Had the man known he had a demon inside of him, he would have openly wept.
Now with the demon riding him and steering his actions, no one is save in the house of god. Who will be the first victim? One of the younglings who were being educated in this church? Or would one of the nuns be his first prey? The high priest was licking his lips as he strolled out of his chambers and began the hunt.
(Female nun, noblewoman, young male, young female, other, all open for partners.)
(Male/male, Vampire, blood play, heavy age gap, supernatural, Older male/younger male, rape, Adventure, Piracy, twisted romance)I hate droids!
As with all things in this word, there would be no beginning nor ending. The once young and skilled Germanic warrior had perished, yet now he still lived. As he felt the sharp teeth rip open his skin, mutilating his internal system, he felt the sweet embrace of death. It was the greatest yet darkest sensation he had ever felt since arriving at this cursed world. It made him remember his younger days, when youth fueled his veins, strengthening his resolve with each pulsing beat. In his prime he was a force to be reckoned with. When darkness finally overtook him, he suddenly felt alive again.
The fade was seen walking around the night.
He lived, but it was only a semblance of life. He had died, but he was not dead. Sometimes, when the scars of his former wounds ached and his mind was all of agony, he wished that he had met his final end, deep in the bowels of the night.
The world he was cursed to was named the new world for a reason. And he would never be free. Never once would he know the sweet embrace of death, not once. Yet the world was not without mercy. Each day he would be forced to relive the events of his death, to feel the powerful vampire jaws snapping shut. As a repayment for this, he had received a grand gift.
The fade walked towards his cabin, his hands slowly caressing the wooden frame, like an old friend coming to home for a visit, and he would have bid it enter, but he could not speak.
So, he reached for it, instead, with an eagerness that peeled emotion from him, finally opening the door.
As he stepped inside his cabin, making a straight path towards the large cracked mirror that hung in the corner of the room. Standing a few inches away, he began to take in the reflection. The once young and tanned frame that had housed his person was gone. The once mutilated neck was now a strong looking and whole, carrying two large scars that had marked predator’s teeth.
His once black hair was now as the moon, grey and absent of life, it danced so violently in the night sky. His once tanned frame was now pale, the powerful frame of a man in his early thirties. His clothing felt too tight with each intake of breath. His large hands once again showed the dexterity of a young man. The captain reborn slid his finely tailored coat aside, revealing his powerful hairless chest.
The vampire… no.. the captain stepped out of the door, taking in all of the moonlight that illuminated his vessel that night. His crew stood still, jaws dangling as he shouted. “We move east to the indies!”
In this age of piracy he had taken on the name of Lancius, privateer and captain of the grey fang. A name that quickly became one of the most wanted men in the world. The fang at your throat was a saying these days. If a sailor spotted the grey fang’s flag in the distant, usually it marked their death. Exaggerated of course yet elaborated lies have a way of spreading faster and more efficient than the truth.
"I'm here," he said softly, almost like whispering to a lover. "I'm waiting once again. Shall we dance once more?" And it sounded strange, even to himself, because it was almost an honest plea.
(Forced servitude, Master/slave, Android/robot, interspecies, size difference, Oblivious to sex, Survival)Summoning desire
RLD -class command android 000-003 opened his eyes and patiently waited for his primary hard drives to spin up, his memory of the past night becoming more and more clear. He immediately went for his designated task.
*AUTOREPAIR PROCEDURES COMPLETED*
*DUALITY AI LOADED*
*HIGH-LEVEL AUTONOMOUS FUNCTIONS STARTING UP*
A small explosion ruptured part of the ships stern, just below where it was working. The ship’s AI noticed the increasing distance between the ship and the 003 android.
“Captain, 003 RLD is leaving the ship at an alarming rate of 34 clicks. Suggestion, preparation for the loss of 003” The tall human sitting in the captains both was nodding to the AI while trying to keep the ship from crashing into one of the asteroids nearby. “How many have found us so far?” When he heard the AI say 21 he slammed his fist at the control panel. “Prepare one of the Androids suited for long term survival, place the necessary supplies and the droid in Life pod 20a. Make sure the other life pods are filled with basic supplies and target them to drop nearby life pod 20a.”
"Mental note: Don’t Hire frigging droids to do a man’s job." The captain hated droids. Androids were only slightly less irritating, they at least felt embarrassment for screwing up a job.
He reached Pod 20a and crawled inside, finding his supplies and one of the Androids, a female one. “what the?” He said out loud, obviously confused. “I though only male models existed.” The female droid was surely one of the expensive cargo’s he had been task to bring to outpost delta, a known scientific and droid manufacturing outpost.
He opened her eyes by sliding the cover from over her optical sensors, and looked at her eyes. She was surprisingly life like.
“Launch!” He yelled, while fastening his seatbelts. Seconds later he felt the pods launching, while he passed out from the heavy G’s felt inside the cabin.
SYSTEM REBOOT NECESSARY FOR COMPLETE FUNCTION....REBOOT?
SYSTEM REBOOT SELECTED....GOOD MORNING FAI
..."The time is not accurate for morning...please auto correct...actual time....unknown....designation...unknown...total life forms in small space occupancy...two....second life form...human male, well built, sexually active....bitter...first life form....Android Fai....Female Animate Intelligence...I am...I am...No name designated....please auto correct mild malfunction...v..v...vocalizer skip. Good Morning Fai-01".
The inner computer of the semi-conscious female figure worked furiously to auto correct itself, adjusting the minor infractions as her self repair kicked in. Small damage had been maintained during the sudden ejection from the main ship, but she had managed to keep it minimal by forcing herself into a complete system shut down. The first thing her sensors had picked up upon reboot..was the extra body occupying the small space with her. A quick scan told her it was a human male...a man she had seen from a distance and been told to stay away from for good reason. Her creator had informed her countless times when she questioned it. "Some humans just..don't like Androids Fai..and a female one will only add to it".
At the time she had processed the information and stored it away for later use, deciding it was not something to worry herself over. As it was though, she was now stuck in a tiny pod with the very man she had been warned away from and hadn't the slightest clue on where they were going to land. Nor what would happen when they did. Flexing her fingers a bit she turned her head to peer at him, adjusting sensors in her eyes to help her see in the dim light of the pod. A green light appeared on the plain, white jumpsuit melded to her figure, indicating a scan was in progress. It blipped off when she finished. She now had every major stat about him stored in her data bank, and could pull what she needed when the time called for it.
A metallic, monotone female voice came on over the pods intercom.
"Estimated Landing time, 0.5 Minutes...destination unknown."
Fai frowned and reached over, touching her unconscious companions cheek gently.
ETA 10 seconds”
A soft hand caressed his cheek, making circles around his temple, brushing the short dark brown hair aside. His temple felt warm and sticky. “Blood?” He asked sheepishly. The figure that was caressing his temple was a blur, he could not see her in detail. When he tried to concentrate, he lost consciousness again.
“5.. 4.. 3.. 2.. 1. ..impa..”
Lance was half conscious as he was thrown out of the cockpit during the impact. He heard the escape pot bursting open while in the distant the other pods were crashing. He dimly remembered he had ordered a droid to set a gentle lading path. “Stupid droids” He thought as he flew further in the air. He shoulders landed first in a deep lake. The water felt like concrete at first, causing friction marks on his shoulder. He rolled at the watery surface until he finally sank down. The cold water brought him awake in a second. If he had broken something he would have to act now. He was not deep in the water yet and adrenaline was fueling him for now.
He propelled himself upwards using his legs. “Thank god they aren’t broken” he muttered to himself as he reached the edge of the leg. A dozen seconds later and he was rushing towards the escape pod. His body was battered and bruised, it felt like he had mated with a rhino. The longer he waited the more of his supplies went to waste.
Upon reaching the crash site he found a droid lying underneath a few bags and crates. Grabbing her wrist and a handful of bags, he began to drag them from the escape pod. The pod looked instable and would no doubt meet an explosive ending, soon. After dragging most of the bags and the droid near the tree lines, he began to bury them behind a small wall of sand. It might not be much, but it would stop small pieces of metal, hopefully.
“Wake up, help me dig!” He yelled as he slapped the Droid against the face. When he took a second glance at her, he let his jaw hang. The androids features were stunning. Comparing the androids features to his 6”2 height and athletic frame, she looked weak yet at the same time even stronger than he could imagine. “HElP ME DI-.” He wanted to say something, but the blast wave caught him of guard, knocking him once again unconscious.
(Muscular female, Interspecies, interracial, size gap, demonic partner, different build, slight gore Mind control/forced obedience or Romance, heavy plot)Crash-landing into Tiffany.
The youth made his way downstairs. The lower keep had a bone chilling cold to it, even more so during the winter seasons. He clenched his right fist as he opened a large iron door. The eldest of all the summoning chambers. The heralding chamber.
It´s origins even older then the keep it self, the chamber was dark, filled with cobwebs. To think in over 25 years no man had sat foot in this chamber. Peering down on the ground he noticed a pair of boot prints inches away from his. He laughed and felt pained at the same time. "Always a step ahead of me, aren't you father?"
He glanced at his father’s boot prints as he stepped over them. He would make his own fate, carve it out with his bare hands. He reached the blood altar and he began his vile work.
A young man in worn grey pants and a brown tunic looked as serious and determined as any young man that was holding a demonic summoning ritual is able too. He finished the last of the runes and made sure each seal was in place. The 'character' or sigil of the demon he wanted to conjure was on a piece of stone in his right hand, written in his own blood.
As far as a 'blood sacrifice' went, the young man had again used his own blood, from a cut in his palm, and sprinkled the blood all around the seals, circles, and triangle. All that was left was to call the demon.
An industrious and careful young man, he made sure he had his barriers in place and a sharp dagger nearby should the worst happen, and then he cleared his throat.
"I conjure thee, O Righteous malice, by all thy names, to come before me ready to obey me in all things. I conjure thee to be submitted in human form, to do and accomplish my will and all that I command, without harm to me or anyone, as soon as I make known mine intent! Come betrayer of hope, he who opens all locks! Come blade of darkness, demon of Hell! Come eldest of evil, for I command thee!. And let all of the heavens know it is I, Blake heir of the Draconius blood line. I carry his righteous malice, fear for it is my blood to enslave the corrupt and protect the weakened just."
There was a sizzling flicker of the air, flames, acrid smoke and sulphur and then a fire materialized in the center of the innermost summoning circle. It flew against him as it burned his right shoulder slightly, yet the boy did not flinch. He held the dagger in his left hand, ready to end his life and break the blood spell. He noticed the flame taking shape as the flames turned black, it was coming. The boy's heart raced as he knew he had summoned far more than he could control, but he had to do this. He needed the help, a disease called war had blackened he land, and he needed to turn the tide. As his father had done before him, he would summon the darkest of evil and strike fear in the heart of men.
"I command you demon, take shape and speak thou name."
The fire spit its anger towards the summoner, rising high into the air stretching to the chambers ceiling. Flashes of red and orange bit at the face of the young man, the glares of yellow casting light to see by. Black smog filled the floor rolling against the stone casting his feet in shadow while the fire took it's tar form. Bending a weaving to the demons command, forming the creature that would plague the earth once more. The tar becoming transparent revealed the twisted skeleton being wrapped in veins of purples and greens. The dark, tough tissue stretching and grabbing at the skull covering the bones in layers of taunt muscle. Red orbs broke the tar glowing in rage, the neck thrashing irate. Deep dark skin filtering in to mask the monster in human shape, sharp razor teeth filling down.
The demon hunched over in anguish as white hair poured from the skull in a long stream. Gruesome claws shot down from her ligaments as they completed her long powerful digits, the final stages of the transformation nearly complete.
The air inside of the summoning circle rapidly heated up. The dense flames shot around in circles like a swarm of angry bees, rapidly smashing against his barriers in an attempt to get free. Finally, his commands sank in, and the flames began to arc and swirl around the center of the circle.
A long thin tail slipped out above its wide hips, and two large breasts formed on the formerly flat chest. The formless round head began to take shape, growing long pointed ears and red slitted eyes that glared right at the caster. When she reached her full seven foot height, she was truly magnificent.
Her skin was jet black, like death itself. Her eyes glowed ominously, and bright silvery hair stood out in a stark comparison to her skin color. Her arms and legs, even her belly, showed strength and tone, though she still managed to come off as quite womanly with her large, rounded swells, topped with greyish nipples. Her long tail swished back and forth behind her like a cat, and she crossed her arms over her chest. On the right side of her neck a blood red rune formed, the runic symbol for the summoner's name, naming him her master. As soon as the symbol took shape on her neck he fell to his knees, screaming. Blackness, pure light rejecting darkness was burning his left hand. When the tears stopped running and the pain lessened to an only irritating level, he looked at his palm. His left hand now bore a runic symbol as well, only his was born out of pain.
“Speak….. Speak thou name!” He said as he stood up, slowly. He steeled his mind once more to further strengthen the barrier he had wrapped around her.
(Interspecies, interracial, size gap, romance, survival, large plot, War, possible beastiality and impregnation.)The chained queen.
Blake was running. He ran and ran, panting and gasping for breath as he scaled one dune of ruined, scorched earth and tumbled down the slope on the other side. Behind him he heard the reports from Laser rifles and throwing spears, as his pursuers attempted to bring him down, calling out in their weird language. He could guess what it meant.
He hunkered down behind some broken crates, and looked down at the sniper rifle in his hand, all clips still filled minus the two bullets of his current one. He took a deep breath and exhaled as far as he could. Closing his left eyes he glanced in the lens with his right. Humming a strange tune as he always did when shooting, he concentrated. Twenty seconds later both his "assailants" lay dead, spilling blood over the dirt. He remained in the same position for a few more minutes before he decided the situation was clear.
Merc for hire, Blake "the hummer" Dorian looked upwards again and sighed. The two blue moons instantly reminded him of his fate. Just two weeks ago he was on spotter duty in a small outpost in Cuba, now he was waist deep in the cesspool of a planet he named after his wife. ‘Tiffany’ consisted of half urban half jungle areas, with pestering heat waves, and bone chilling nights. Every few days food, water, weapons or new "prey" would be shut down from orbit in capsules.
Now somewhat of a veteran on this planet he made his way over towards his ‘home’ in a small cave. "Just 3 more clicks" he told himself as he glanced at every treetop and bush.
Idea shamelessly stolen from the Predator movie.Predators Trailer
(Interspecies, age gap, Forced impregnation, Pregnancy, Mind breaking, revolves around several years, BDSM, Master/slave) The Gynoid
Five hundred years she has led the elven race of To'ra in the west. She was known in the land to be a fair and gentle ruler. Because of her longevity (even in elf standards where superb) she was able to guide her people into prosperous age filled with piece. Yet twelve years ago mankind emerged into the west. Although in-superior creatures with a short life span, they breed fast and expand like roaches. Twelve years she held off the human filth while other races fell to the humans corruptive might. Yet here she was now, chained, drained of her once powerful magic, on her knees before the youth that is known as the eldest son of the emperor. The young boy has a look in his eyes that can only be described as evil.
( Male/female, Android/robot, Housemaid, Mechanical, upgrading, Forbidden desires, possible pregnancy.)
The year is 2103. The young man stared out of his window, looking at the tall skyscrapers around him and sighed deeply. He was the youngest of two, a bright young man in his prime. He turned back from the window to stare at their family house android. The android was the maid and housekeeper of their family, a hardworking and loyal machine. She was one of the earlier models, yet still did her tasks perfectly. She was a v.4.75 android, yet compared to the version 12 models, she was simply old fashioned. Still for being an older model, she had heart. The tall young man knelt forwards as he began tinkering with the final component, closing the hatch and letting the Nanobots form a completely whole skin metal like surface again. Their family did ok, yet not so well that they could afford the newer models, nor did they want to. Their house droid was a part of the family. Yet, she also needed maintenance, a costly endeavor in the past. Now they simply looked towards Lance, their young son.
Lance was a straight A students in higher robots and android designs. He wasn’t the most popular kid in school yet he could do magic with robots. So, as soon as he displayed some talent in this field, their parents almost begged him to look after the droid. So now, on every Saturday morning he would do a small maintenance job on her, keeping her Nanobots levels up high and making backups of her memory drive. It was strange at first to tinker on her, seeing as she had helped with his up brining, even taught him how to cook and what not. Yet, after a while it was just routine.
The 5”9 tall youth got a small amount of cash each week from his parents to help with the upkeep, although it was not necessary. They had almost no clue how such things worked and his older sister was even more clueless. His mother and his sister both were in the fashion business, shooting pictures for the celebrities and doing their hair. Brainless jobs, Lance called it. His father was the typical office guy, working from 8:00 to 19:00, doing his best to support his family. Although his family had looks, they did lack brains, Lance was an exception. He used to ponder on the thought that he was adopted. He grinned as he stuck the 100 bucks he had gotten from his old man inside his backpack, where the rest was. He could maintain this outdated droid with only a few bucks, leaving him with quite a large amount of cash over the years. Still he felt a bit sorry for the clunky old droid and decided to upgrade her when he could. While newer droids had almost human like characteristics, their family droid was from an earlier model, so she still lacked the finesse the newer droids had.
The young man smiled as she came back online again. Each time she booted up again was proof of his successful tinkering and prodding. Her model was outdated, yet sturdy and easy to use. All robotic humanoid constructions were built from the same materials and upon the same design, yet future models obviously more high-tech and efficient. Most of their frame consisted of small intelligent shards of metal and plastic. The shards were actually nanobots. They took on the shape and abilities of how these looked like and acted. More up to date models had larger amounts of these shards, with a memory and processor build inside to interact with them. Lance had updated her memory subroutines and made a backup of her core temperature and stats. He actually preferred her model, seeing as they had fewer limitations and restrictions placed upon them. Newer models could only be tampered with in a specific setting and by a specific way. Their family droid had no such restrictions, making her cheaper in the long run. He had been amazed by her new routines, growing by the day. Her Ai truly was evolving, putting in new lines and data. It was almost becoming a personality of itself.
“It went fine.” He commented as he patted her metallic shoulder, grinning as he spoke up next. “At least, I hope.” He smiled at her once more, reassuring that it was just a joke. He liked teasing and making sarcastic jokes at her, knowing that she was still adjusting to humor and what not. Compared to the average druid, she did have a much greater understanding. He stood up and remembered the large collection of cash he had. “Actually you can help me out with shopping today. I know mom asked you to pick up some groceries and sis almost ordered you to pick up her prescriptions at the pharmacy. I was hoping I could tag along and buy something in town. No doubt you could carry the large and heavy things while I carry the groceries?” He nodded once, before he left the room letting her follow him.
A few minutes later brought him and his family droid in the shopping district. Literally thousands of people were shopping or just walking about. Lance walked into a small, if not shabby looking place, and glanced inside. “Just wait outside, I’ll be right back.” He went towards the salesman and began chatting, asking about new parts and what not. He himself had saved up some cash for some newer parts he would be buying, while at school assembling a few data chips for her shard protocol. When he was done he was carrying a heavy box outside and grinned. “Guess you won’t be exploding this week.” He gave her the heavy box and followed her around, knowing she would be much more efficient at shopping and getting back in time.
Lance helped with shopping, mostly picking out stuff he loved. He grinned as she had returned a few items he had picked out, seeing as it was mostly chips or other unhealthy things. She truly had a mind of her own now and was programmed to even ignore her master’s request if she deemed it incorrect. Her actual masters were the father and mother of the household. They had instructed her to also supervise in educating and raising the children, even disallowing certain things. The maid would not help clean the room if it was a chore of one of the children. So in the years that followed she widened her personality to be both a maid and a babysitter/teacher/mother and what not.
Lance had dragged the box up stairs and began undoing the lid. Three large metallic vials were placed inside, each with a newer kind of Nanobot inside. While their house droid was sturdy, it also lacked mobility and flexibility. It consisted mostly out of metal like shards. Lance had saved up quite a penny to purchase these new flexible ones, feeling more like rubber or plastic than metal. He plugged the containers in a small device as he loaded up the specs of his house droid. It had nearly cost him one third of his cash, yet it would be worth it. The other two thirds were spend on a new memory core and a processor, allowing her to grow and develop even further and fully use the three vials of shards he had purchased. He opened her data bank and looked at the script.
Nano Metal count: 109.031
Internal processor: 1x v.4.45 Pr
Internal memory: 1x v.4.56 c Me
- 1x v1.21 Vacuum machine.
Lance smiled as he uploaded the new data, implementing the following.
Nano synthetic count: 75:000.
Internal processor 1x v.9.22 Pr.
Internal memory: 1x v.10.123 Me
The processor would ensure the new shards to be fully active, while the increased memory would allow more learning capabilities and the ability for more commands and protocols. His first protocol was already established, seeing as his parents would freak out otherwise. It would be to adjust her appearance so she looked more like her old self, the old model..
He was programming the shards to look more like an actual humanoid droid, one with more natural curves and grace, if not a bit taller than an actual human. The newer shards were transparent mostly, so any area they covered were semi see through, unless programmed to be otherwise. So every joint in her body would be swapped with the see through material, including her throat. He did not know why, yet he wanted it to be see through. He was going to program another module next week, allowing her to use organic fluids to recharge her own core. Yet, for now he simply updated her as best as he could. He did not know what shapes and sizes her new frame would be, seeing as it was also mostly up to her, yet he knew it would look better than the old clunky droid like form she had before.
So the following day he told her to go offline again as he began tinkering. He placed the new devices inside of her while injecting the new nano’s inside of her. He then booted her up again and went downstairs to grab a bite to eat. A new program would be installed to only display her new frame in his presence, seeing as his old man would freak out otherwise, thinking all those fancy new things were only a drain on their money. When Lance returned again he dropped the sandwich.