Daddy's Droid Ch. 05

Chapter 5: Sunday, Continued - More Pool Play, a Hint of Spurs, & Little Black Dresses

I turned away from my sputtering pal and her equally shocked uncle, towing along with me the Adele-Bot - or 'Estelle', as I'd rather hastily renamed her. She still wore a face like a wet Wednesday. Obviously, recent developments were not computing. I'd forgotten how late she'd come into our discussion. From her point of view, two girls had just appeared out of thin air. And then one of them had, bafflingly, introduced the other as 'THE' Adele - whatever that was supposed to mean.

I'd hurt her feelings, all right - but she still didn't get it. I wasn't entirely sure I did, either, but I had a plan. Well, not a plan, as such - more a course of action. I figured she may not know who she was, but she'd still know what she liked. So did I - the novelty of my zero-gravity fuck in the pool definitely hadn't worn off. Greta had taken to it like a fuck to water - so to speak - so it seemed a sure bet Estelle would enjoy it too.

When I'd taken the double-ended robo-wang from her shoulder, she'd given it a look as if to say: How did that get there? But I noticed she'd also perked up a little bit at the sight of it. So I plugged it into my pussy with a flourish and advanced on her. Only, when I'd finished connecting it up inside myself and done my hydraulic thing to hoist it erect, she gasped and backed away. Which was odd ... and also ill advised, assuming she wasn't actually planning to fall backwards into the pool. When she surfaced, she began to dog paddle, only barely keeping her head above the surface.

"You ... you're a droid," she sputtered, all wide-eyed.

O...kay. This was getting more and more complicated. But it followed that if she thought she was Adele (albeit a six-foot Valkyrie version), well then, she'd also suppose she was a Real Live Girl.

Now what? She'd soon find out she wasn't human, if she sank ... what with the not drowning and all. But letting that happen seemed a little harsh, seeing she was already on the edge of panic. So, I jumped in and pulled her to the side of the pool. She clung desperately to my neck, and my temporary cock was pinned between us. If I slipped that to her, her mechanical insides would automatically link up to the other end - which would probably also strike her as unusual. And disturbing. Reluctantly I refrained, and instead hauled her up onto dry land, where she lay gasping.

While she settled down, I disengaged the wang from my pussy-dock. As I savored the weird sensation of my inner probe slithering out of its deeply lodged knob, I wondered just what she thought normal was. After all, my reality was now four-hour blocks of time stitched together more-or-less seamlessly. I was willing to bet that Max only ever 'selected' her personality in his bedroom - or in his bed - and then, after a wild piece of Giant Adele-tail, he would switch her back for Greta. So life, to her, was probably one fucking long night - or, rather, one long night fucking.

"See? It's gone," I said, pointing to my pussy. She may have had identity issues, but I was right about one thing - she was just as keen as I was for a romp. At least, she was once I'd removed the visible reminder that I was a machine. And either Max had guessed that his niece secretly fancied girls as well as boys, or a certain amount of gender flexibility came built-in, 'cause in no time at all, we were both on the deck grinding together various naughty bits.

After a variety of positions involving the groping and nibbling of simulated flesh, we took a seventh inning stretch. She sprawled out with her head on my lap and, while I braided her long hair, she started trying to piece together what I'd said to her. "Didn't you say you were called Tracie?" she asked. "Actually, you look a bit like my friend Tracie - God, I should call her. Only I've been in bed with Uncle Max for, like, three weeks straight now." - Bingo! - "And I don't know how to tell her."

"I'm sure she'd understand."

"About Max - probably. But she doesn't know I have the hots for her. And who is that other girl Adele? The one you said was another one of Max's nieces. I've never heard of her. Wait! You said she just fucked your dad, but you're a ... Oh my God! You were built to be, like, an older imitation of Tracie! And you probably thought you were her. I'm so sorry you had to find out like this!"

This was getting seriously fucked up. "Let me explain," I said. "No. Let me suck your pussy some more." I shifted her on top of me - a nice sixty-nine should buy some time while I thought up some way to tell she had things more or less backward.

Before I'd come up with anything, Max walked into my narrow line of sight, appearing upside down beyond Estelle's bum. It was clear he and Adele had come to an understanding - she had passed out again, the little minx, and was presently slumped against his chest, still impaled on his drug-hardened cock.

He gave me a wink - it turned out he had an even better way than I did of putting off awkward explanations. "Adele, lover," he said to the bot. "Activate Greta."

The gentle lapping in my groin stopped momentarily, and then started up again at the double. I gasped, but there was still a bit of fresh information rattling around in my head. "She has the hots for me?"

Max shrugged. "Adele's diary," he said. Then, to the droid probing my depths with her tongue, he added, "Greta, honey, it's nearly bedtime. You too, Trace. Time to hustle on home." He switched the hand helping support the original Adele's pretty butt so as to look at his Rolex. "I'd better give you a lift."

Shit! I had a built in clock-alarm, and I'd still lost track of time. I had to recharge PDQ.

While Max pried his still groggy niece off his dick, I climbed out from under Greta. Once she and I had disengaged, she wandered off to her bedroom, seemingly unconcerned by the spectacle her master presented. He gently lowered the naked girl, who was now leaking a drizzle of cum, onto a lounge chair, where she curled up like a kitten and began to snore. Meanwhile I found a pool jacket of Greta's, which barely reached my ass, to wear home. I looked for some clothes for Max, too, but there was nothing around except the ratty bathrobe he'd worn right up until he'd worked things out with Adele.

It would have to do. Max kissed Adele's forehead, and then put on the robe, while I danced in a panicked circle around him. He took the hint, and drove me home in his Jaguar convertible as fast as the twisty valley road would let him. Luckily for both of us, there weren't any cops around. Even the local security dudes would have been a nuisance - plus by the time Max appeased them (assuming he had any cash in the glove box) I would have gone down for the count. Explaining that would have been the least of my problems.

As it was, we'd barely stopped rolling before I jumped out of the Jag and sprinted straight through the front door to my house. When I got upstairs, I discovered Daddy busy fixing up the bedroom next to his, which had been mine back when I was little - guess who else had lost all track of time? He'd lugged in my chair (Whoopee! No more closet for me!) and parked it in the middle of the wall opposite the door. Just in the nick, I skootched my butt onto the protruding probe. As I squirmed to get comfortable, Daddy leaned close and gave me a big kiss ...

* * *

... and then suddenly Adele's lips were on mine, instead of his.

"Ack! Sorry, no, that was nice - really! But I thought you said I creeped you out when I was turned off?"

"Too true! The least you could do is close your eyes." She grinned and held up her watch. "But I didn't have to wait long. You're pretty punctual." She gave me another, better kiss, while my power-probe slithered back out of my ass; and then she stepped back and swept an arm around. "Check it out."

While I was 'out', she and Daddy had brought in Lacy's clothes - there were racks and drawers all along one wall. Plus they'd brought up all my stuff from the basement bedroom - books and music and posters and miscellaneous junk - and put it out more or less the way it was. Which was nice - like a little bit of me was back.

"Richard boxed up most of your old clothes for me - there wasn't much there that would still fit ya, 'cept a few scarves. I hope you don't mind."

As if. "No, no. Thanks for bringing up my stuff, Adele!"

"You're welcome," she said, and then batted my hand off her thigh. "No time for that right now. Richard's gonna take us to the mall, like I said way back at dawn or so."

I gave her 'doe eyes' ... pretty please?

She looked at her watch, like she didn't know my current revival had been at exactly 1400 hours, and then said, "Well, we got maybe a few minutes ..."

I looked around my room. "Wait a minute! You and Daddy spent ages lugging my stuff in here. Did you also fuck on my bed?"

"What a thing to say!" Adele looked stern, but couldn't hold in the fit of giggles. "We fucked on HIS bed." She tried to control herself, but then, with tears of laughter streaming, she added, "And then on the stairs!"

I was glaring in envy.

"Couldn't be helped," said my slutty red-haired Mistress. "But HE said to tell you he's sorry and that he's saved some for you. And I'm supposed to pitch in. He also said that afterwards he wants to see you do me, while yer wearing those goofy jodhpurs, like you promised."

I sighed and smiled. They both had twice as many hours a day for sex (their need for sleep aside), and it was cool they were bonding ... and thinking of me. Also, by this time I could hear breathing behind the door. "Daddy - come in here!"

He popped in, grinning, and said - to Adele: "You going to get your clothes off, already? It's not me that wants to go to the mall."

I was already naked, owing presumably to one or the other of my masters having relieved me of Greta's teeny pool jacket - which sort of thing was fine as long as the short one didn't, say, decide to draw a mustache above my pussy while I was out cold.

In the time it took to think this slightly uncharitable (if plausible) thought, they had both stripped. Their challenge was made slightly easier owing to, she had only just pulled on a dress for this charade, while he'd worn a t-shirt and unsecured trousers. We were all on my bed in ten seconds flat.

As promised, Daddy lay back and lifted me onto his erection, where I began to ride. I'd been looking forward to this since the subject had come up that morning by Uncle Max's pool. (And notice that I was already thinking of Max as family.)

Adele watched us for a bit. "Geez Louise, you only need spurs!"

"Don't give her any ideas," said Daddy.

Her answer to that was to whoop and swing herself over his mouth. He poofed some air through her red little muff, and then proceeded to give her a good tonguing. While he lacked my length, he still had me beat for technique, and he slowly and deliberately licked her into a frenzy, that concluded with her shuddery orgasm.

My response to their show had been to build up a long-stroked rhythm, which ever-so-slowly gained speed right along with Daddy's tonguing. He and I came at the same time as Adele, who slumped into my arms. She was obliged to ride along with me for a while, yet, although I throttled back to a gentle (and squishy) slide up and down Daddy's still squirting staff.

Once the humans had recovered - the poor lambs had probably been at it for a couple of hours already - Daddy turned to Adele and asked, "You want to postpone that trouser-snake fuck you wanted? Only we really have to get moving if you still want to go to the mall today."

>< >< ><

The trip to the mall took a bit more organizing that I'd expected. The plan was that once we'd got to town, Daddy would get me some new clothes. But in the meantime, like Adele had said, none of my old things fit my new shape, and Lacy's stuff was mostly too slutty to wear in public ... excepting her dumpy looking housekeeper shifts, which I didn't want to be seen in. In the end Adele managed to find a satin wrap that could be adjusted so that it covered my naughty bits. At least mostly - she made me wear a thong under, so I could walk around without being arrested. Oh, and I put on a black velvet choker, to tease Daddy, so in the end I still looked pretty trampy.

So off we went, to the super-mall down the valley, where we weren't likely to run into anyone we knew - not that anyone knew the new, improved me. Even so, Adele pointed out that she and Daddy had better call me Lacy, just in case. That seriously unnerved me, seeing as how Lacy's personality was still lurking inside me. (Although at least she probably wasn't awake and watching ... or so I thought.) In any case, publicly answering to 'Lacy' had been pretty much an order, so I just had to suck it up.

It cheered me up some when, just before we left, Daddy gave me a ring to wear. The plan was we would go as a family ... after a fashion: a well-to-do businessman, his trophy wife (yours truly), and her pretty stepdaughter. Later, on the way into the mall, it occurred to me that in a few years Adele would be old enough for her and I to change roles - which was kinda weird.

And then we were through the glitzy big doors, and it was all great. It was definitely a new experience to have everybody notice me, and to see most of them, women included, light up with a look that said that they were gonna have to get themselves laid, and soon. For sure, none of them seemed to notice that I was mechanical. We just strolled for a while - Daddy and Adele were enjoying the attention, as well.

Then Daddy left us at the Versace shop, with instructions to get something a little less riot-inducing for me to wear for mall-walking in. Plus maybe some evening wear for both of us, although we both knew where we'd mostly be spending our evenings. He was just looking forward to unwrapping us.

We strolled though racks of designer dresses, drooling, until the shop girl marched over and said, "Careful, girls - don't touch anything. These are one-offs, and very expensive. We don't want to have them soiled."

Well, I suppose on reflection that Adele and I looked like a cheap whore and her little sister, but that was still no excuse for the clerk's snotty rudeness. Adele was so steamed she didn't even have a snappy comeback. She just said, "Come on, Lacy, I'm sure our money is good elsewhere." With that she walked out tall (or at least, as tall as her four-foot-six was able to deliver). As soon as I remembered I was 'Lacy' in public, I followed.

Elsewhere turned out to be the Prada shop just around a corner and three doors down. I left Daddy's charge card at the counter, as our ticket in, after which they were so accommodating that they chose not to notice us tongue wrestling in the change booth. I got three outfits - all simple and classy and super expensive. Plus Adele found a skirt she liked, and we each got ourselves Little Black Dresses that cost their weight in gold. No, more - they were silky and skimpy ... not much mass there to tip the scales with.

I wore one of my daytime outfits out the door, and had them deliver my old wrap home with the rest - waste not, want not. After that, we went on to the shoe shops. As in shoes, not runners like I used to wear. It was lucky Lacy's body had had practice in heels, 'cause the chrome robo-clerk sent me out with vintage 'Jimmy Choo' stilettos that lifted me four and a half inches. Next, we accessorized - with scarves and purses and stuff, I mean. Probably, there was an adult toy shop where we could get the rude kind, but there were still some attachments in my drawer we hadn't tried out yet.

Anyhow, we were thoroughly pleased with ourselves by the time we left the last store. We still had twenty minutes left before we met up with Daddy by the central fountain. We were considering what to do next when we spotted this gorgeous guy go by. He saw us, too - he did a double take and then walked straight into a hanging flower basket.

Adele nudged me and whispered, "How would you like to fuck that?"

She'd said much the same thing to me not a month before, about some other cute guy, back when I was human - and I'd just laughed. Now, it sounded near enough like an order for me to say, "Yes," and then walk over to where the poor guy was presently kneeling, rubbing his head. As I approached, I wondered how I would lead him to it.

I heard Adele make some faint, non-committal noises, that may have been meant to constitute a recall order (I could now hear a mosquito fart at fifty feet); but they were too vague to count, so I ignored her. Which had nothing to do with the fact that the guy looked like he had stepped out of a fireman's calendar - no sir-ee. When I got to him, there were already a few other people standing there, making concerned comments. I crouched alongside him, simultaneously whipping off my thong panties so smoothly that only he and Adele noticed. And then I used the damp bit of cloth to soothe the bruise on his forehead.

"Are you alright?"

Apparently, the engineers who designed and built me provided me with a double dose of sex pheromone, because he didn't look soothed at all. He was a bit wild eyed, actually.

"I should have a closer look at this - over there, where the light is better," I suggested, all nurse-efficient, like I knew what I was doing. As it happened, 'over there' was an emergency exit stairwell, and it was a good deal darker than where we were. Regardless, he followed me in. Once the door closed behind us, I stretched up to give the boo-boo on his head a kiss better. Then I knelt down, pulled down the zipper of his pants, and extracted his cock. There was a moment of mutual confusion - on his part, because he probably hadn't expected me to be quite so forward, while, as for me, because by chance I had never previously encountered an uncircumcised wang. However, I soon discovered it to be as tasty as the other kind, and had it installed deep down my throat.

I was sucking away merrily, when I caught a glimpse of Adele coming in the door. My newest friend must have had his eyes closed, 'cause he didn't seem to notice her. (He'd also missed the old lady who'd come through just before, searching for a washroom).

"Hi there," said Adele, brightly.

That caused him to jerk, which delivered another two inches and would have choked me for certain, if I'd happened to need to breathe (the lack of which he'd also failed to notice).

She giggled, and then said, "Stand up, sweetie." After a pause she added, with a sigh, "You'll have to spit him out, first."

Once unencumbered, I stood, and his eyes were for sure open then, super wide. His glistening cock bobbed desperately in the breeze.

"My friend gets carried away sometimes, and forgets she has to negotiate before she blows a guy. So you can consider that a freebie - or you can finish her, any hole you like, for a one-time discount. Say, three hundred bucks?"

I lifted up my skirt, encouragingly, and he positively whimpered - well, you'll recall I'd already got shed of my panties. He nodded, gasping, "Yes, please," and then he tossed Adele his wallet with a sort of 'help yourself' motion. After which, he spun me around, backed me up against the nearest wall, and lifted me onto his impatiently waiting cock. Once he was inside me, I wrapped my heels around his back and hung on tight.

He had pretty good stamina for a guy who didn't have the chemical enhancement of Daddy or Max. He held out for quite a while, but I rode him out in the end. More or less literally, actually, since he finished up on his back on the dirty floor (instead of me - I knew he was a gentleman), while I straddled him and whooped. When he came, it was a great shuddering, lurching finale, which I joined in with, clamping my pussy so tightly onto his cock that each pulse of his cum was cut off in mid-spurt. It took him twice as long to drain his balls as it would have, and, at the end of it all, he was pretty much knackered. When his lovely cock softened, I leaned forward gently and let it slide out of me, while I gave his noggin a final kiss better.