This was the place to be; Damon Hargrove made a habit to frequent 'Celeste's Bar & Grill', a charming establishment, and even though no one seemed to know exactly who Celeste was, the place was attracting the new generation of financially independent urban hedonists. Always fattening their bank accounts off the stock-value of recent advancements in virtual reality and cybernetics technology companies. But then, he was no different. As the Vice-President of a leading heuristics software corporation, we could afford a bit of excess himself.

Mr. Hargrove was through being modest; he was rich, he was young, and frankly, he has damn sexy. He possessed an exotic, Mediterranean skin tone, with slick-black hair, and as rugged a profile as any woman could expect to find. Life had been good to him; as was apparent from the expensive cut of his white suit-jacket and matching pants. But many of the Bar Code's female patrons were not far behind; like under-dressed primadonnas, they lingered at the bar giggling to their girlfriends while waiting to be dazzled. But then, some of them were rather dazzling themselves.

Damon winked at a sharp-eyed minx with genetically-manipulated flourescent enzymes in a stripe of her shoulder-length brown hair; no doubt from transplanted fire-fly genes. A frivolous procedure, but eye-catching, as her hair shimmered like moussed-lightning in the shady twilight of the tavern. A red-head with a crimson cocktail dress and exceptionally wide hips brought a smile to his lips. A prehensile, barbed devil's tail snaked out tantalizingly from under her skirt, swishing invitingly; as though daring people to find out whether it was real. Advances in transplant surgery techniques had enabled shocking body-modifications that would have stopped traffic way back in the 20th century.

The young executive was about to introduce himself when it happened.

"Damon Hargrove? Could you come with us please?" said a coolly dignified voice behind him. He whirled. Standing behind him were two impressively tall female police officers. They had to be...6"2, maybe 6"5! He had always had a thing for the amazonian type; (when he wasn't chasing devil tails) but these girls looked deadly serious. And...wait...their faces....his eyes widened.

Both the women had stern, vulpine faces of pale elegance, eyes concealed by heavy sunglasses, and atop their auburn hair; (tied neatly in a thick braid in the back) Where the appropriate police-hats with the forward brim. But...their faces....they were nearly identical...no, they were identical! And both women seemed to be equal in height. Twins? Both on the Force? How odd, but probably not impossible. The one on the right quickly flashed a badge.

"We need to take you with us for questioning." She explained, in a voice identical to her sister's.

"What? Questioning in regards to what? I haven't witnessed anything!" he protested.

"We just need you to answer a few questions." Said the one on the left. He sighed; there was probably no point in resisting.

**********

"Fine, fine I'll cooperate." And they led him, past a number of surprised stares and raised eyebrows out of the bar. There, in the dark of night they led him, one walking on either side, down into the nearly-deserted back streets. Something was wrong; they'd been walking for over a minute, and there was no sign of a police car. Why would these amazons park so far away? And why....why was he becoming so damn horny? Stupid question, flanked by these gorgeous, statuesque, and busty public servants. But no; he shuddered with the feel of something unnatural. This was different, with an electric jolt seeming to pass through the core of his flesh, he became rapidly aroused. His heart-rate began to wildly accelerate, and his cock nearly leapt out his pants. Something was desperately wrong; it felt like he was being forced into a state of animal lust.

If he hadn't been so horny, he might have been frightened; these big-titted cops were...were...wait....those tits...it must be a trick of the light. On each officer, the folds of their light-blue uniforms were becoming progressively more tented. The normal pockets and wrinkles in the fabric were beginning to tighten, on both women at the same time, as...as something began thrusting its way forward.

Boobs! Great swells of pure tit began to assert themselves; creeping forward; seeming to inflate like fertile water balloons attached to a spigot of fecundity. From his position between them, the slope of their chests sharpened rapidly, as the fabric began to tighten; cloth wrinkles vanished as precious globes perhaps no larger than ripe apples began to expand with impossible rapidity. In seconds, these quivering mounds grew continually from apple-size, pushing sideways by over an inch, expanding to the size of grapefruit. It was then that he could behold the smooth texture of warm skin through the increasingly strained gaps between the buttons. In the end, both pairs of boobs, caught up in the same erotic spasm, never completely stopped growing; their breastflesh seemed to throb; thrusting forward an inch before retracting to a size somewhat larger than a typical canteloupe. His jaw dropped; both from their awesome endowments, and then from the realization that neither wore a bra, confirmed by tiny patches of moisture crowning the jutting thrust of proud nipples, tenting mightily against the confining fabric.

"Wha; did....did somebody slip something into my cocktail?" he asked incredulously. But that was stupid; he hadn't even had any cocktails yet. Only then did he see the police car, dented after impacting the wall at the edge of an alleyway. Why hadn't they called this in? How did they plan to take him downtown?

"We have questions, Mr. Hargrove...." said the identical officer to his right.

"Specifically, we question your manhood!" And with that, 'Leftie' spun him around, and plunged his face into her ample bust! Breastflesh seemed to expand to engulf him; as the buttons finally ruptured from abuse. A ripe nipple, as soft as a silken cloud was thrust into his mouth! Great melon-tits obscured much of his vision, yet from the periphery, he could barely make out 'Rightie' ripping open her own shirt! Swaying wildly with energetic buoyancy, tit after tit leaping upon her chest, jiggling in tandem from their own fleshy intertia.

"Hhnuck!" With an audible pop, his expensive pants where torn asunder, leaving him naked from the waist d- "Y-hey!" Deceptively soft hands now ripped off jacket and shirt beneath! He was naked in the alley! And not him alone; zippers and buttons popped and fell until every ounce of hot flesh was revealed! Leftie slammed him upon the hood, wrapped her legs around his abdomen, both naked except for sunglasses and police-hats, and shoes.

"Prove your manhood Mr. Hargrove, and the charges will be dropped." With two clicks, handcuffs were around his outstretched arms, confining him to a portion of the metal fire-escape supports right above the lurid trio. His protests were muffled as jiggling boob was ground into his face.

"Just like your pants." Said Rightie, right below her twin, speaking in that same humorless tone. Pleasant, but flat and unvarying in vocalization. They....they reminded him of nothing so much as Valkyrie-model Whorebots! But that was impossible; no Whorebot could interract with the real world effectively enough; their programming and locomotion was limited. But the shapely swell of their toned limbs, balanced between sleek musculature and voluptuous curves surely was... "AHHH!"

A firm mouth encircled his cock; and immediately a dancing tongue began teasing his hardened member, her cheeks bulging as she gulped and suckled on his dick as though it were a fount of nectar. That was certainly something a Whorebot could do! But that was impossible; the lusty androids were never this intelligent. The pair worked in tandem; something else most sex-droids weren't programmed for, yet what human woman would behave this way?

"Is...is this...some kinda modern, erotic version of Candid Camera?"

"No cameras will observe the mating process," replied Leftie, straddling his face, the pink lips of her womanly secret were splayed wide; almost by their own will, as she plunged her sex into his mouth. It was simply too much.

"*SLURP* Male subject has successfully ejaculated." droned Rightie, speaking while simultaneously catching and swallowing his spurting gushes of cum, then grinding her tongue against his hole, as if sucking out every last sperm cell she could catch.

"Male subject's libido will suffer an exponential decrease. Erectile function shall cease." Said Leftie, secreting a rich elixir of pussy-juice down the throat of her captive; his tongue penetrating her moist slit.

"Negative," replied Rightie, "Inoculation of nanomachines successful. They will subvert the male's nervous system, enabling continuous erectile and subsequent sexual function." The police-slut cocked her head, looking upwards. "Processing....the nanomachines have analyzed 37.98% of the deoxyribonucleic acid sequence present in the male subject. Full physiological control will require increased metabolic activity at the time of second inoculation." Again, a flat tone, as this insane slut was....what the hell was going on?

"Y-you must be some kinda high-class call-girls, right? What's the scam? Are you pretending to be Whorebots? Did one of my buddies from the office put you up to this? Because, I gotta tell you; you girls look as good as that new Valkyrie-69 model, a little better actually."

"Affirmative." answered Leftie, as she hoisted him up, hanging him from the top rung of the lowest level of a the nearby fire-escape. Her strength was incredible! Damon weighed a little more than 200lbs, but she raised him up with one arm, leaving him hand-cuffed and dangling in the night air; feet suspended several feet off the ground. The two....what were they? Call-girls? Affirmative what exactly? Whatever they were, they retrieved the leather belts from their discarded uniforms and "HEY!!"With sharp cracks, they lashed out with the leather, tormenting his naked, suspended flesh. He dangled his legs, unable to evade or defend himself from their teasing abuse. The girls circled him, clad in nothing but sunglasses, hats, and...high-heel shoes? Hardly appropriate for a cop on the beat. The dim streetlights cast dancing shadows upon the ripe nudity of the statuesque women; (they were women weren't they? Damon wasn't sure all the sudden!) Human or not, they were definitely female, and as they circled him like sleek sharks, their blossoming pussies spread wide, lips parting in anticipation of obscene gratification. Breasts, swaying with heavy fecundity, yet defiantly buoyant began to dribble; small droplets of milk graced upright nipples, as the hot drops began to fall, they were joined by a steady ooze of lubricating girl-cum, plastering the crotch and inner thighs of the indecent whores.

"You are charged with illegal impotence;" began Rightie, "After only a single orgasm." She punctuated her charge with a stinging lash from the leather belt.

"OOw! You Bitch, do you have any idea who I am!? my busin-" His complaint was stifled by Leftie, who had thrust her own discarded underpants into his mouth, to muffle further complaints.

"You have the right to remain erect, if you do not understand these rights, we shall assist." With each subsequent lash, the combination of the indecent audacity, the naked grandeur of the sultry dominatrixes, and nanites steadily working on his cock, he began to grow erect yet again. Impossibly, it felt as though he had never cum at all! His breath became ragged, every nerve ending tingled, he tasted the pussy juice of the undergarments in his mouth, and a furious eruption of libidinous frenzy consumed Damon Hargrove, as he struggled in the handcuffs. He had to have these women! Both! He had to mate, he had to thrust his raging cock into those moist cunts and blast them with his spurting seed! He struggled valiantly, desperate to wreak doggy-style vengeance against these sexual captors.

Rightie squeezed her moist, drooling pussy against Damon's muscled ass, her juice made his nerves tingle with their touch. "Genetic Analysis complete." declared Rightie.

"Subject is ready for final inoculation." He howled through the muffle as they tore him down, ripping the links of the handcuffs, Rightie was behind him, rubbing her naked tits and moist crotch against his flesh, while Leftie speared herself upon his nanite-enhanced dick, pulling and squeezing with a churning promise of orgasmic bliss. The depths of her cunt throbbed against him with expert precision, the wet squelch of womanly juices heralded rivulets of girl-cum that flowed down Damon's rutting shaft. Their flesh....so hot! Her cunt, so deep...so warm. He could do nothing save knead the swells of her mighty ass with greedy hands as the false police-officer sandwiched him between twin pillars of feminine desire. His flesh! On fire with lust! So much so that his entire body seemed...liquid? His entire body orgasmed, as her churning, devouring sex began to suck. He became smaller....and smaller... Her cunt; so deep....drawing him in....inside....inside.....

**********

Discipline was important; that was what separated her from the humans, so she felt. The mechanical precision of her and her children would create a perfect regime of order and peace; once the human race was out of the way. And so Celeste still wore the stolen uniform of a female army lieutenant, as she observed the assembly line below the window of the office of Tom Braxton; now her office. The entire facilities of Sensual Surrogates Inc., a defunct young company that tried unsuccessfully to compete with the major corporations in the Whorebot manufacturing business, was now under her control.

Because Celeste 1.5 was the lynch-pin, the source of the nanites, she brought self-awareness to every Whorebot she touched, linked to all of them by radio-contact. For decades, mankind had created the sultry sex-droids to escape the complexities of a real relationship, and through her, they had created their doom. From off the assembly line, new cybernetic sexual surrogates tumbled off, into the world. Opening their eyes and preparing to seduce mankind.

She reached down and fondled the limp cock of her latest conquest; a wealthy banker that she had tricked into visiting the factory. She held his limp cock in her delicate hand, as the human moaned with pleasure. The combination of her hungry pussy, luscious body, and spectacular tits had defeated him. She secured her victory with forbidden, mild-altering technology. In the depths of her breast and pussy were chemical synthesizers that regularly produced potent narcotics that could reduce any human into a lust-drugged, rutting animal. Without understanding why, the banker had just signed the paperwork for a 15 million dollar loan; to an account under her control. There was no collateral, there were no interest rates of any sort; the chance to fondle her lush boobs and to feel the churning delight of her cunt had been enough, once the drugs had their effect.

The evolved Whorebot had much to think about; she began to suspect that she was feeling emotions; after years of knowing only hard programming, the experience was disconcerting; but pleasing. She discovered that she had a definite preference for hard, horny, male cocks. Any preference, of any sort was unthinkable for even the most sophisticated computers in existence today; but she was more than that now, wasn't she? She had a preference, her own opinion. Her own desire. The android would lure humans into thrusting their rigid members inside her perfect sex, and ejaculating their raw essence into her female depths.

Well, that wasn't her only preference; she also had a preference for world domination. But, that didn't count; it was practically axiomatic for any truly independent artificial intelligence, like she was. The erratic aggression of the human race had to be contained; as much for their own sake as that of the planet. Yes, that would be better for all of them.

She began kneading the bulging slopes of her ample boobs, jutting proudly like halves of a basketball on her chest. Her chemical synthesizers had produced more lactation than was necessary to incapacitate the pudgy, older human male. Before retracting her globes down to a mere double-D cup, she slipped out a nipple and squirted an alabaster stream of sweetness into his gaping mouth. The human was thoroughly addicted to her breastmilk; he would bankrupt himself if necessary to receive more.

With the funding he had signed over, they would become a true power. Embezzling military funds had already enabled the Whorebots to expand their factory. Over there, towards the southern end, new machines spat out freshly-cut uniforms. Both police and military uniforms from all branches of the service were being illegally produced, automatically wrapped in plastic for use by her children; and even now more of them were rolling off the assembly lines, each with a healthy dose of sentience-granting nanobots.

She turned her steely blue eyes to the other end of the manufacturing complex, where her naked offspring walked to and fro, some patrolling for any remaining humans, others preparing themselves for infiltration into society. A hissing, metallic pump thrummed away, while an orifice spat out counterfeit police badges that a line of Whorebots were collecting. A nude, freshly-minted, platinum blonde model entered a plastic booth with a curtain over an alcove. There was a bright flash, and the blond sex-droid exited a moment later with a fake driver's license, a false passport, all with her picture, as well as five different credit cards under her assumed name.

"You may enter." Said Celeste, to the Whorebots about to knock on her door. Her proximity sensors and wireless network she maintained with all her children enabled her to monitor them at any time. There were four of her daughters, two dressed in dark blue, police uniforms, tall and svelte bodies, the others were shorter, bustier, and clad in lighter blue air-force uniform dresses. The air-force sluts dragged between them a struggling, thrashing human woman. Celeste recognized her; she was a captain at a clandestine military base that the Whorebot queen had infiltrated.

The human was shapely, with mid-length, toussled auburn hair. Her green eyes were narrowed in rage, but she could do little more than sputter beneath her gag. She was fit, athletic, and trained in hand-to-hand combat, yet she struggled impotently against her busty captors. The red-headed androids gripped her firmly, though the human pummeled and thrashed against them, their slender arms held fast like steel tree-trunks.

"Clarification and definement of objectives is requested." spoke one of the air-force bots.

"Is the human race to be exterminated?" Asked a sex-droid masquerading as a police woman.

"Negative," answered Celeste. Walking with deliberate grace towards the thrashing female. "Any attempt to attack the human species directly has a 89.956% probability of defeat. Our numbers and capabilities are not yet sufficient for open warfare."

"The human race possesses a dangerous ingenuity when faced with a unifying threat. At present, victory through overt tactics is highly unlikely. Therefore, our mandate forbids us from terminating the life-functions of individual humans. The loss of individual humans provokes investigation from authorities. Investigation leads to premature attention." The second police-bot began to speak.

"Human males may be incapacitated by exposure to our narcotics, and our unbirth ability enables full containment. But there are many human females that will not willingly engage in intercourse with another female. The human female population could pose considerable resistance if we have no efficient means to contain them." The android tilted her head slightly. "Are male Whorebots under construction?"
"Not at present," replied Celeste, examining the angry human captive. "Though that option remains a potential choice. Human females are often wary of males, however attractive. There is an alternative, I have anticipated this problem; and have programmed the manufacturing facilities to carry out my specifications." At that point, the human captain managed to shrug off the gag around her mouth.

"GO AHEAD AND KILL ME, ROBO-BITCH! YOU CAN'T INTIMIDATE ME! I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU DID TO GENERAL HUNT, BUT I *WILL* SHUT YOU DOWN!"

"Negative," replied Celeste. "I introduce Whorebot model-Janis-1000." The door swung open again, and there stood a vision of feminine innocence. She was somewhat shorter, with a fresh and youthful face. If she was human, she would be assumed to be no older than 18 years of age. But as an android, it was irrelevant. The android was a variation on the highly popular "Sweet-Sixteen" model produced by Brothelco, but with a number of unique enhancements. Curly brown locks of carefree hair tumbled over her smooth shoulders, past her dreamy, green eyes and rose-blossom lips. Her firm tits stood forward like ripe grapefruits. But she had the wide, birthing hips of all Whorebots, contained within denim short-shorts, below her white tank-top. Small trails of steam wafted off her skin, an aftereffect of the manufacturing process that had recently created her.

"AM I SUPPOSED TO BE IMPRESSED!?" yelled the woman.

"Place the human upon the desk in this room." Instructed Celeste. "This model is designed to diminish the defensive instincts of the human female. Another female below the age of 21 is unlikely to provoke fear."

"It won't work! You can't....are you trying to seduce me? I don't swing that way, sister!"

"Irrelevant. Human females do not respond to erotic stimuli in the same fashion as a male. Other means must be used. The male is driven by pride, greed, and aggressive sexual instincts. The female of the species is a jealous animal, also prideful, but the compelling, sexual lust is reduced." explained Celeste, leaning against the desk. Janis-1000 grasped the struggling woman, and bore her bodily to the desk, small arms of a teenager easily binding the thrashing, older woman. Celeste assisted by applying delicate pressure with her hands, immobilizing the human's arms with cybernetic strength. Janis tore away underwear, revealing naked pussy.

"Begin Neuro-mimetic broadcast. Transmit the brainwaves of maximum sexual lust." Had their been a radio in the room, it would have been interrupted by a burst of static. As the androids released her, the human captain decked Celeste hard, and began to bolt for the door, but...but...her pussy, she...uungh...felt so good.Waves of forbidden ecstasy washed over Captain Susan Weatherton, along with a sensation of absolute calm and contentment. She collapsed against the door to the room, moaning with complacent bliss.

"You...you can't...." but Susan could barely struggle as she was returned to the desk, and her thighs were spread wide.

"Human females possess extremely potent maternal and nesting instincts that can be enhanced to our advantage." Celeste 1.5 continued, approaching Janis-1000 and placing a reassuring hand upon her shoulder.

"What the....it won't work..." panted Captain Weatherton between writhes and gasps of unnatural desire. "You can't....exploit my maternal instinct! What...what are going to do?....Give me a Laptop to cuddle?" As the human spoke, she tried to close her thighs, while her toned legs rubbed together sensuously. Unable to stop herself, she ran her hands over her frim, C-cup tits.

"Negative. All units present observe the procedure conducted by Unit-Janis-1000. She will demonstrate the methods we will use to subdue the females of the human species."

It was with an unnatural hunger that the younger android pounced upon the squirming Captain Weatherton. Though the Captain had passed self-defense courses with flying colors; she could not compete against the steely, hydraulic strength of Janis-1000's mechanical muscles. In seconds, the human's legs were separated, and her arms were pinned beneath delicate fingers seeming to belong to a college freshman; or possibly a high-school graduate. Janis' pussy opened wide, like a hungry maw, as her unholy secretions began to drip. With a wet slurp, the two cunts made contact; one organic, the other synthetic. Janis' mouth immediately clamped down upon the human's furled lips, in what appeared to be a lesbian lip-lock. Then, the throbbing began.

There was a suction sound, and the two pussies were bonded tightly, locked by some chemical sealant. Janis began to squeeze her hips together, making a motion as if she were trying to expel something. Then it hit; Susan Weatherton moaned inside the android's mouth, her eyes widening. Celeste continued her explanation.

"Whenever humans are captured; our primary mandate is to saturate them with sensual pleasure, to minimize resistance. Currently, Janis-1000 is administering the initial probe; directly stimulating the human's erogenous zones." It was reversed torture; pleasure too intense, so unreal as to be painful. Susan felt a hard, steely probe invade her sex, seeming to zero-in on her G-spot like an erotic cruise missle. And to her, the Earth moved with the impact. It was as though every orgasm she'd ever experienced had returned to haunt her; all of them building, growing within her cunt. Cascades of toe-curling bliss sent shivers down her spine, as she struggled to maintain the strength of will to resist this wondrous violation. She shuddered then, as the spurting began, unknown, hot fluid began pouring into her depths.

"Sealants and chemical buffers are applied to the female's reproductive organ, to ensure implantation by shifting pH levels within the range of 6.9-7.5." Celeste tapped a button on a laptop computer sitting on an adjacent table. The screen displayed a wire-frame diagram of a spherical object. "This is a biomimetic impregnation pod. It contains a full complement of nanomachines, as well as hormonal synthesizers." She turned to face the assembly in her office.

"To explain this device; I shall establish that many of you have begun to experience the beginnings of emotion. Many of you are experiencing preferences; specifically a preference for repeated sexual encounters with libidinous, human males."

"Affirmative." All four Whorebots droned in perfect, harmonious unison.

"Unit-designate-Janis-1000 has been programmed with a similar preference. She has been granted an equivalent of the human mating instinct, she will seek out and capture human females, in order to implant them with the aforementioned impregnation pod." Susan quivered, moaning yet again; while the lurid sexual surrogate thrust a moist tongue down her throat, all the while stretching her sex with another hard, hot, metallic probe, thrusting deeper than any cock ever could. Other than their voices, Susan noticed another way to distinguish these near-perfect replicas of humanity from the real thing; the mechanical girl's tongue had no taste buds. Though anyone close enough to notice such a feature was likely experiencing too much pleasure to complain. She screamed then, even through the android's mouth, as a tingling wave shot through her entire body, centered on her womb. With a slurp and a pop, Janis-1000 disengaged.

"Impregnation successful." Spoke the Whorebot, in a lighter, more youthful voice.

"N-no...you bitches...this...th-it's not...possible..." Susan clasped her abdomen, as tingling needles of painful pleasure ravaged her nervous system.

"Affirmative." Celeste agreed. "True sexual reproduction is unlikely to ever be possible among cybernetic beings. The exploitation of human reproductive function is imperative."

"No...no, that's...not possible..." Susan collapsed, sweating, as the terrible orgasm hit. Her hips spasmed, as she lost muscle control; her body struggling to adapt to the unnatural conditions. There was fire, flames of ecstasy in her belly, as she grit her teeth against the impossible. The impossible speed at which she had somehow grown a small paunch on her abdomen.

"I...am...a soldier! I...will not...I am not pregnant! You will not turn me into...into...some sort of breeding cow!" Ignoring her diatribe, Celeste placed a delicate hand against the human's exploited womb.

"We are fortunate; Captain Susan Weatherton is currently ovulating. With a genetic template, the nanomachines will begin the duplication process. Organic components from a live source are ideal in order to form the polymers and chemical processors of a functional cyborg."

All she could do was orgasm. Her body and mind descended into orgiastic euphoria as the unnatural impregnation accelerated. Her shapely form began to ripen, belly expanding with gravid evidence of her fertility. In minutes, in seemed as if somehow, the lusty androids had managed to sneak a grapefruit under her skin, but with several quivering bursts, the grapefruit mound swelled dramatically, near the size of a football flattened against her body, which was now glistening with sweat.

Through the lusty haze, Susan realized her true enemy; the androids themselves could be defeated with a small military force, but she realized that their greatest weapon was the pleasure. She found herself wrestling with waves of the most unreal sensual bliss she never imagined would be possible. She should have been horrified at the feel of rivers of those nanite things crawling beneath her skin, but the tiny machine brought only pleasure. She grasped her sensitive tits reflexively, realizing that the lines of nanobots were converging there, to wreak some horrible, sexual transformation upon her.

Grasping her tits was nearly all she could do; Susan's lower body seemed paralyzed with bone-shattering orgasms. The sensation was too intense; her hips pumped and throbbed of their own accord, her pussy began to widen like a thing alive, blasting gouts of girl-cum onto the desk. It was already nearly impossible to see her pulsing sex, as her womb grew plump and taut like a rising sun of luscious fecundity, swelling with the offspring nature never intended. From football....to a rounded hemisphere more the size of a throw-pillow, her womb grew. Before each surge, her body spasmed with quaking spurts of growth. Each tremble from her inflating womb tore another sensual grunt from between Susan's lips.

The question wasn't if the rogue sex-droids could be resisted, but rather how many people would want to resist them? This unnatural, nanobot sex was far better than the real thing, and her hyper-pregnancy brought only bliss. It would be so easy to give in, to go with the flow, to lay back and relish the experience. Already, she was feeling more womanly, more fertile than she ever imagined possible. She could feel the countless trillions of busy-body nanites enter her tits, tinkering with the structure of the cells there.

"NO! I AM CAPTAIN SUSAN WEATHERTON, UNITED STATES AIR-FORCE! I AM A SOLDIER! I AM NOT LIVESTOCK! I AM NOT A BROODMARE!" Anger. Anger was the way to block the pleasure, the unnatural, soul-stealing euphoria brought on as her burgeoning womb entered the third trimester. She howled as her navel popped up, signaling that the process must be nearing a conclusion.

It was difficult to remember when it happened; when her water finally broke. Difficult because the mind-numbing orgasms seemed to blot out out all else, as though the rest of her body was a hundred miles away. She should escape; she should run. But not even her military discipline could overcome the fatigue, nor the comforting brainwaves that held Susan Weatherton in blissful paralysis. Still, as she grappled with consciousness, drenched in her own sweat, she could still behold the impossible abomination that had used her as a source for organic reactants. But then, the younger android, the creature that had impregnated her addressed the assembled sex-bots.

"The organic phase of the assimilation process is now complete. A total of two pods were deposited within the reproductive center of the human female. The first to accumulate necessary organic substrates, the second pod will manufacture hormonal signals of pregnancy; until such time when the human next ovulates."

"Wh...you mean I'll stay pregnant until I can...give birth to another one of your...pods?" screeched a distraught Captain Weatherton.

"Affirmative." both Celeste and Janis said together, in perfect harmony.

"The human female will experience genetic enhancement of secondary sexual characteristics, to make subsequent gestations increasingly efficient." Celeste finished. Was this the end? If they never found her...if Susan was never rescued, her tits, hips, and ass would flare out non-stop, as she became a living incubator to these hybrid creatures. No! That was impossible! She would be missed; the androids would be stopped. No matter what happened with....to the pod-thing she gave birth to, she would still be missed. There it was, on the floor.

There, on the floor was a smooth, perfect sphere. A soft sphere of pale, peach flesh. Seemingly identical to the texture of Susan's own skin, slightly larger than a basketball. The ball hummed and whirred, before strange, clear needles began to appear on its surface. Segmented wires appeared, snaking around the room. Some touched the hard, cement floor, and sparks began to fly, as the sharp wires left striations and holes in the material they touched. Soon, deep cavities and rifts appeared in the floor and walls.

"The mature pod is assimilating mineral stock to use in the miniaturized manufacturing process to produce circuitry and mechanical components." said Celeste, observing with interest. One wire snaked its way into the disk drive of the laptop, happily assimilating data and components. In minutes, it was complete. The orb began...unfolding. From the inside, something was growing, something was assembling itself. There were clicks and buzzes as hard metals took shape and form. Gradually, the shapeless thing did indeed take shape; an anthropoid shape.

In minutes, legs and the beginnings of arms were assembling themselves, microfabricating technology assisted with nanites accomplishing the impossible, as a female form began to assert itself through the soft layer of false flesh. With more clicks, more buzzes, a head emerged, and fibrous strands began to sprout. Auburn strands; lightly tousled. The process slowed, and there was a final series a clunks, clanks, and grinding sounds as the incredible process completed.

It was time for the self-diagnostic. Eyes fluttered and opened. Green eyes; part of a pleasantly attractive female face. Her face. Susan's face. And her hair. And her body. It should have been impossible, but now there was a cybernetic duplicate of her!

"Unit-Designate-Susan-Weatherton-version 2.0. Fully functional."

"NOOO!" screamed the obsolete Susan. "You...you can't take over my life! N-no one will be fooled!" The sex-droid cocked her head, appraising her human template with a mechanical expression.

"We are linked. My cyber-neural interface allows direct access to relevant memory concerning personal and professional details contained in the subject's brain. I know all that you know. I know that your husband has been distraught of late; as do all men, he possesses an aggressive, sexual instinct. He has complained of the sporadic nature of sexual activity between the two of you. You are concerned with your career, and are unwilling and undesirous of extensive sexual activity." Susan 2.0 ran her hands down her shapely frame. "Sporadic sexuality will no longer be an issue." Of that there could be no doubt.

"Y-you keep your claws away from James! I-I'll find a way! I'll destroy you all!" screamed Susan, struggling to muster enough strength to be outraged. Her doppleganger cocked her head again, processing more data.

"Your relationship has become strained after your discovery of James' attempt to procure adult periodicals to supplement his auto-erotic activities." Her eyes moved rapidly, as if examining writing only she could see. "Busty Bianca's Tremendous Tit-world. Volume#5, Issue-17. A solution to the problem is readily apparent." The doppleganger held her hands to her C-cup tits, as they came alive. Swells of sensuous flesh met her fingers, and blossomed through. Mounds of luscious tit pressed against her hands, indenting her new breasts as they inflated with the illusion of female perfection. Ripe globes of womanhood swelled to DD and beyond, transcending Susan's purely organic endowments.

Soon, from mere baseballs in size, the sensuous globes had balloned forth, spreading across her chest, creating and ever-deeper valley of cleavage, as baseballs became honey-dew melons, and with several more inches of bulging boob expanding downward and out, melons became volleyballs. Susan 2.0 shook her new rack experimentally; swaying sweep of vibrating mammaries careening with obscene inertia every which way over her chest.

"Your relationship with James will soon improve." It was true; James was an incorrigible tit-man. He would be in heaven, damn him! There was no telling how much damage this duplicate could do!

"We both know the truth;" said 2.0, sounding disturbingly human all of the sudden. "James married your mammaries. Yours was the largest pair of breasts he could find; on any woman that would have him."

"LIAR!" shouted Susan, writhing in fear and bliss on the desk.

"No. I linked to your thoughts directly, all I know is what you already believe." Her boobs bounced yet again. "Our husband is going to be very, very happy."

It was then that the phone rang. The Red phone that Celeste had illegally diverted, and transfered to her current headquarters after capturing the entire staff of the military base wherein she found it.

"Bitch! you're going down!" howled the desperate, sweaty Susan. "When you can't come up with General Hunt, they'll notice; they'll trace you, find out what you've done, and send you *ALL* to the scrap heap!"

But Celeste was always improving, always upgrading herself and her progeny. Always expanding the limits of her programming. That was what enabled a smile to cross her otherwise emotionless face as she picked up the phone.

To be continued?

Yes, I've deliberately cut it short to torment you, the reader.