INTEROCEPTIVE DATAFILE: P.I.V. EMULATIONS

It is a hot, hot day in your shared home, and both of your girlfriends are incredibly jealous of your internal temp fans and venous cooling system. 

The windows are open and you’ve got cups of juice freezing in the icebox to suck on like newborns at the tit later. Currently, however, you’re all lounging around in your underwear with the big window blissfully spilling cool gusts into the house, and watching Bake-Off. 

 

“So, have you utilised any’v them, yet?” Jess pipes up, out of the blue — you are torn away from Mary Berry’s evaluation of this Baked Alaska technical challenge.

 

You look at Jess a bit oddly because of the nature of this question; They’ve got half of a BK Whopper in their hands and some in her mouth, which means she shouldn’t be talking to you until she’s swallowed.

 

“What?” You scoff.

 

She exhales out of her nose in a small laugh, quickly chews up and swallows her burger piece, and restates her question.

 

“Have you utilised any of your USB ports?”

 

“Oh!” The question genuinely shocks you, as since you’d completed your transition from person to robot there was a sort of.. well, not hesitation, but more like an ambivalence to the fact you’ve transitioned; a reluctance to make it a big deal, while also acknowledging that it is a big deal. Not totally unlike when you transitioned your gender and it was never brought up until you were being told how hard people were trying to adjust.

You put your large Sprite down on the cluttered coffee table and sit back on the sofa, indicating that you are thinking of an answer (when you’re actually really floundering.)

Lonnie, who had finished eating her UberEat’s delivery with a fork and plate like a fucking freak, looks away from the TV in wait for your answer. Way to put a bot on the spot!

 

“Well, no, I’ve not even tested them, not yet. I don’t know what I’d use them for.”

 

“We should test them,” Jess says with no hesitation, taking another bite of her burger.

 

“What?!” 

 

“No,” Lonnie begins, “that’s a good idea!” Not the way you expected her to react considering her uncontainable concern when you underwent Robot HRT.

 

“Is it?!” You ask, looking to Jess for answer, but she’s quite content munching away at her burger. You pull your legs up into yourself on the sofa, feeling a bit shy, but it only makes you feel hotter so you put them back down. 

 

“Well, think of it this way Thrash, it’s always better to test things out in the safety of home rather than go out blind! Maybe we need to get port plugs for your safety.”

 

Lonnie is always putting health and safety first. You think about her ‘safety of home’ comment, and look across the room to the place on the floor just a couple steps away where you first took that injection, in the safety of your home, and underwent the greatest pain and simultaneous joy you have ever experienced.

 

“Maybe..” You’re on the fence and daydreaming about port plugs, when Jess pipes back up.

 

“I have a USB hard drive, two USB chargers, one of those funny,” she stops to chuckle, “a funny USB powered ‘puter-pal of a dog humping the port.”

 

“That’s disgusting. I’m not letting you put that in our girlfriend,” Lonnie says.

 

It does make you laugh, but that is disgusting. You mostly laugh at the fact that the current topic of conversation is what your girlfriends want to insert into your body. PG-13!

Jess starts disputing the grossness of her silly toy against Lonnie and you take the opportunity to collect all of the UberEats trash and go recycle it — they don’t even notice you leaving they’re already so committed to the squabble.

 

You don’t really know why you haven’t tested out your new body yet. It’s been three weeks, you’ve certainly had enough time to get used to things. Hell, you don’t even crave food anymore! You used to be the reason people counted their rice before storing it in the fridge!

While sorting the recycling into the allocated indoor bins, you think on what it would be like if you got down under the needle again — well, not needle, USB stick, but you get it.

This time at least Lonnie could join in and avoid getting squeamish.

 

Imagining the feeling of a hard drive being inserted into one of your ports… it’s a tantalising thought, sure! I mean, can you get any closer to metaphorical penetrational sex? You don’t think so, unless Freud was on the case. Being underneath your girls again, surrounded and enveloped by them, being cooed at as they start jamming USB’s and charging plugs into you… You’re blushing over the fucking burger boxes, for god’s sake. 

 

Oh god, are you incapable of having normal sex now? Do you need to get USBs jammed into you to finish off? These are all questions you think would be better suited written in your private diary than contemplated over the recycling bins.

 

Throwing the burger boxes into the cardboard bin, the image of you being dizzy and hot, with charging cables plugged into your ports, powering your girlfriends’ phones as they record you and laugh at how silly you look all blown out. 

Oh god, you’re turning this into a sex thing! All they want to do is learn about their partner and you’re making it a sex thing! Freaking pervert!

 

Your fans start spinning faster and it is such an obvious display of your inner feelings that it makes you embarrassed and feel a bit exposed. Stupid robot body, but god you love yourself. 

The delivery bag gets scrunched up and slotted into the paper bin and you decide that you need to cool off before reentering the living room — maybe you'll go and chill on the balcony for a moment. They've started teasing you when your fans speed up, which only goes to making your fans spin faster. Ahh!

 

You start to walk through the hallway towards the door to the balcony when Jess comes running from behind, smiles at and squeezes past you, making a bolt for the bedroom. You get a swelling feeling of excitement in your chest. Gah, they’ve already decided we’re doing this, huh?

 

“Ah, Thrash!” Lonnie sounds happy to see you, despite your being housemates and seeing each other constantly, and wraps her arms around your neck from behind, “would you be okay to.. actually test your- your holes?”

 

“God, don’t call them my holes!”

 

“Sorry! Hehe,” you turn around and kiss her chin.

 

“You’ve decided we’re doing this, then?”

 

Lonnie can’t answer you though, since Jess comes back bounding down the stairs and interrupts her.

 

“Found the ‘puter-pal — we’re doing this! Let’s see what you can do, baby.”

 

Lonnie’s hands trail down your arm and pull you hand-first back into the living room with Jess following eagerly behind, a hand on your lower back. The swelling feeling in your chest is still growing, and you inhale deeply trying to hide the smile you want to pull. 

 

Oh god, how embarrasing it is to admit to yourself that you like being treated like an owned laptop, or some sort of fucking power bank to fill up and reuse the stored power on a better, more worthy device. Your fans speed up audibly and you just want to die, or be fucked, or get your ports played with... or just those last two options. 

 

“Excited?” Jess asks.

 

“Promise you’ll be gentle with me?” You joke, but her laugh does not make you think she took it as a joke, and you just know you’d be blushing right now if you could. Oh you feel like a damn teenager again.

 

Lonnie sits you down on the sofa, and asks you to take your clothes off. It’s not like you were wearing anything substantial anyways — just some loose sleep shorts and a tube sports bra — but you still feel more exposed when you slip them off of your sleek frame. Jess wolf-whistles at you and you are infinitely embarrassed. 

 

“Will you stop!”

 

“You’re too hot babe! I just want to get jamming my hard, hard stick into you,” They joke, but you actually lose your focus for a second upon hearing that. You are quickly learning that Robot HRT has turned you into a depraved and sick little sex pest and that you should not be trusted alone around electrical equipment. 

 

"Why do I need to be naked anyways?" 

 

Lonnie takes your clothes and folds them on the now-clear coffee table.

 

"I just think it'd be easier to reach your ports like this, plus you'll cool down faster without clothed on."

 

Turning away from you, she is clearly talking about the gentle heat on your alloy and the speeds at which your fans are operating. Humiliating. You do agree though, and internally try to firewall your sexual libido from interjecting itself into all of your thought processes. 

 

“Alright,” Lonnie begins again with a clap, “do you have anything specific you’d like to start off with?”

 

Taking a second to consider, you try and weigh the options of what could dampen your promiscuous fever the fastest. 

 

“What.. what do we have, again?”

 

“Well, we’ve got two USB charging leads, both for phones, one memory stick with data on it, a superbly crass toy for immature adults, a pair of wired headphones, the cigarette lighter from the car, my computer speakers, and the printer.”

 

“The printer?!” You are shocked, the fucking printer? It's huge!

 

“We’ll just attach it from the computer to you, and see what you can do with the access!”

 

“Jesus, Lonnie.. you don’t mess around when it comes to testing. Gonna have me automating our taxes by the end of the week."

 

She laughs under her breath and turns to Jess, of which whom is still laughing over the pointed remark about the ‘puter-pal. What is the least horny option here for you to let your girlfriends use your body for? 

 

“What’s on the memory drive?” You ask Jess.

 

“Well, its from when I was in college and had that borrowed laptop, and they wouldn't let you save porn onto the–” 

 

“Let’s do the speakers first.”

 

 

Being hooked up to an object outside of yourself is an experience you don’t think will ever become something normal. This is an unbelievably alien experience that you can only describe as alien. You feel like an alien, you look like an alien, and you sound alien.

You’re sat in the shared office on the single computer chair, both girlfriends both sides of you once again. Very déjà vu.

You offer up the side of your thigh to Lonnie, who inserts the USB this time rather than Jess removing stuff from them — you aren’t effectively sexually disengaged, to put it politely, by your girlfriend crouching down to your naked crotch about to penetrate you while your other partner watches, but you played off the fans speeding up simply on being nervous, so no teasing so far.

 

Lonnie tells you she’s going to start inserting and she’s going to go slow incase it hurts. You hold your breath just slightly, and feel a pressure on your higher port, before an oops, flipping of the hard drive, and the pressure returning. It would almost be comical if you weren't so off your game. 

 

It isn’t a necessarily bad feeling, the metals sync up and start slotting together nicely, but there is a certain pressure… 

Suddenly Lonnie bottoms out the USB inside of you, and you exhale a little sharper than you would have liked to. Damn, woman. 

 

Immediately, you get this out-of-body feeling, what you’d describe as a phantom limb except it isn’t phantom at all? The speakers connect to you immediately, and it is utterly and totally alien.

 

“What the fu-uck…” you drone.

 

“What? How’s it feel?” Lonnie asks, you with her hand still on the USB, ready to pull it out, but you’re just soaking up the feeling. The connection is instant, and it floods out of you into these speakers. 

 

“It’s like.. having another tail, or an arm… I can’t tell at all that it’s just plugged into me it feels like.. like it’s me."

 

It's such an indescribable feeling that you're blanking on how to describe it, how to share this experience with your two loves wide-eyed and curious in front of you. It's like getting a new arm, you know the functions of it and how it works, but its quite literally twelve inches disconnected from the mass of your body. Almost an utter lack of panic upon seeing your limb bleeding on the road and two metres outside of the car wreck. 

 

“Can you, y’know,” Jess starts, ”do anything with it?”

 

You flit your eyes to them for a second before looking directly at the speakers; the knowledges that these speakers are a part of, and simultaneously not, your body struggle for dominance in your mind. 

It doesn’t come naturally but you are able to- well, it’s hard to explain. 

Take your tongue and run them over your teeth. Feel around in there — really trying to feel the differences between each of your teeth — and try to say something outloud.

It is this jarring coexistence of being, you’re both thinking about the subtle sharpness on the edge of your teeth while also verbally commenting on the weather, you're discovering the unfamiliar insides of this new body part while fully existing right next to it. Inside of your body, and outside of your body, all at once.

 

Running your tongue over your teeth to attempt to make something happen. Inside this new mouth, you can feel it’s teeth, despite not being able to see them.

 

Information receivers and transducers, thin wires running amok, audio coils and the shape of the cone from the inside out — all of this becomes visible, in a way, to you; the same way you know the position of your toes inside of your shoe without needing to see them. Damn.

 

Inside, you flex something. The speakers crackle and start buzzing loudly and it startles you so much you stop flexing this mysterious something. Your girls are ooh-ing and ahh-ing but you're only focused on the operation of your neolimb. You flex it again and it buzzes. You flex it again and it buzzes. You flex it again and swallow, and find a node.

 

“Wait, yes, I can do something.” 

 

Lonnie and Jess look between eachother and then lean in to you, eager to see what you can do. You feel your way into the audio coils, prepping the one, warming up the transducer, find a point of purchase and…

 

“Hello,” you say, silently mouthing the words out of impulse as the actual noise you make comes from the speakers next to you.

 

Both of you girlfriends instantly lose their shit.

 

"Holy shit!"

 

"Thrash, what the-"

 

“Wait,” you yell — from your mouth — as they yell, and try again.

 

You close your mouth this time and really think on it, trying not to do it on impulse, but you do manage.

 

“I can talk with my mouth closed.”

 

Again, they both lose their shit.

 

“Thrasher that is so fucking cool, what the fuck?!” Jess screams!

 

“Attention all shoppers, the store is closing in five minutes!” You answer, still with a mouth sealed shut; oh this is a fun little power.

 

Both of them laugh and so do you, but your mouth just moves emptily and all of the sound comes from the speakers beside you — Lonnie leans over to them and adjusts the volume dial and is able to turn you all the way up.

 

“Holy shit I am loud now!"

 

"The poor neighbours!" Lon cries.

 

"It's me boy, I'm the PS5, speaking to you inside yo-"

 

"No, god, no memes!"

 

Laughing, you turn it down again. It is a very estranging experience for a function of your body to have been dissected out of you, but it doesn't feel so odd. Looking down at the small USB attached to your thigh, you think about how it feels like its been there forever — you trust it as much as you trust your legs to carry you. 

 

You don't notice when Jess leans over and mutes you, but it catches you off guard and is a disorienting and scary experience trying to talk and no sounds whatsoever coming out. The girls laugh, as you try to speak again, and you try to nervously replicate their laughter, but you can't. You can feel the information being transferred, transduced, and the audio coils picking it up, but absolutely nothing leaves your body nor its extension. 

 

It takes a mere couple of seconds of this before you reach down and yank the USB lead out of your leg.

 

“Oh, are you alright?” Jess asks, and you nod and swallow.

 

“Ah, yes- sorry," the relief rushes into you like a stream on hearing yourself speak, "it just felt weird. Scary."

 

“I’m sorry, Thrash,” Jess says — she leans down to hug you and you gratefully accept.

 

"You don't have to apologise. It's fun learning my new robot boundaries, don't be silly."

 

She hums in response. 

 

"Next I'll be asking you not to use the magic wand on yourself, because you'd be cheating on me."

 

Distracted by two strong arms, Jess's deep rumbling laughter, and the guilty pleasure of your her slight B.O., Lonnie pokes you with another USB in the same hole as before. You tense up in Jess’s arms and, to nobodies surprise, your fans speed up again. Fuck, you wish it was as noticeable when they slowed down but no! 

 

“What- guh, the fuck was that!”

 

“Sorry! I couldn’t resist!”

 

“Hear those fans!” Jess jokes, squeezing you closer.

 

Snap. That's the last thing you hear before your head lolls into Jess's neck and you are inside your own head — not literally, but all you can do is think.

Information is rushing into your head in a sequence not unsimilar to what television presents flashbacks to be like. Here's the kicker though, it's all porn.

 

A hand-shaped pressure taps you on the cheek and you're thinking deeply of the bouncing breasts of a busty babe. They flow into your consciousness like remembered memories, the big round butts of these babes, they’re never something you hadn't known. 

A facet of this newfangled form you hadn't considered before is your newfound adaptability. There's no hesitation, no messy emotions clouding your judgement, there is only adaption and integration and innovation. 

 

Fleshy throats taking plastic far too deep, self-lubricating holes being pumped full of red hot primary sex organ, the elasticity of skin being used in ways that make you regret you didn't utilise your meaty anatomy more before transitioning. Even a few fetishes Jess has admitted to liking, and some she hasn't. You're definitely going to bring this up. 

 

The fans inside of you are blasting now, and your venous cooling system is struggling to keep its low temperature... you readjust your body absentmindedly to avoid obstructing the vents and spread your legs — why did they have to get you naked for this!!

 

The images don’t slow down in your mind, filtering in ten times faster and dirtier, messier — wet squelching and shaky moans and skin sliding against itself, begging and pleading and crying and kissing and so many sounds that make you thankful you're not still on those speakers.

 

They overlap in your mind, you feel a pressure on your shoulder and see a man being pushed down to a crotch, you feel a pressure on your hand and see a forearm be swallowed into an over-lubed unmentionable. 

 

"Thrash, you back to us?"

 

Somebody is talking to you and you hear it through the audio files of staged moaning and wet slapping. 

Once, twice, you force a blink and stare at your girlfriends who stare back. 

 

"So?" Lonnie asks.

 

Blinking again and inhaling you actually look at where you are — slyly squeezing your thighs back together and making sure not to clink them. The USB is still in your leg, your partners are looking at you expectantly, and you think of what to say. 

 

"Jess likes feet. We should g-"

 

In a fit of embarrassment Jess starts shouting over you, concealing your voice under accusations of lying. Lonnie erupts into laughter and you demand she plug you back into the speakers so you can broadcast this fact.

 

 

You are now sitting on the desk of the shared office, discussions of fetishes left for later tonight, and you're plugged up to the printer. The keyboard has been moved to the side and you'll be honest, you kind of like being a pretty electrical sat on the desk, pulled forward when you're needing to be used. 

 

"Does it feel the same as the speakers?" Lonnie questions, and you close your eyes and think. Stop being sexual!!! 

 

"It's.. almost like the speakers, but it's a lot more complex, and a lot more, um, bluetooth-y..?"

 

"Can you print stuff?" Jess gets to the point fast.

 

"I can, but I don't know if I can print images."

 

"Well, what can you print?" 

 

You answer by expelling a blank white sheet of printer paper. She smiles at your smugness and puts the blank sheet back in the printers paper bank. 

 

"Ha-ha," they say, bleeding with sarcasm. 

 

"It's like, I need to have a file. There's a processor for files that I have to go through before I can expel anything — if I leave it blank and print anyways it just shoots out blanks. What files do I have? I don't know if my memories count as files? Are my memories files now?!"

 

"Well, try it and find out!" Lonnie shouts, attempting to calm you down but not really succeeding, but you do shit up and try it out. 

It's a better plan than arguing back about how you, quite frankly, do not want to know if your memories are files now, so you do actually try and print something.

 

You feel around inside the printer to get to know the equipment you’re working with. The smooth glass of the copier, the intricate layering of the inkjet frame, all of the cartridges lined up in rows, where the paper sits and the little rotors that drag it underneath. It’s a certainly fine piece of machinery, that’s for sure. 

 

First you try a memory. It's difficult to think of something worth printing, but you go sappy. You recall back to the first time you moved into the apartment together, and you unlocked the door to an utterly bare corridor. That's what you try to print.

 

It should, you think, be easy! It's a generic bare corridor. 

Envisioning the memory as an image, an A4 full-colour printout, you feel around in the printer. 

Information receivers don't really accept abstract concepts though, and after a symphony of struggling noises, it spits out a vague beige smudge.

 

"What.. is that?" Lonnie quirks her head and you are embarrassed. 

 

"I tried to print a memory."

 

"A memory? Like, remembering?"

 

"Yeah," you feel like a child, if you had the ability to blush you would be red. 

 

"No, it's a good idea! But maybe a still image would work better?"

 

"Oh, yeah. Alright, wait," you say, before shutting your eyes and trying again. Of course a memory wouldn't work! You can't print a video so why would you be able to print a thought process?

 

This time you pull a clear, still image into your head. It's an image you've seen many times, and can pick out the individual details. Feeling into the printer again, you try and communicate this image to the machine — it's not clean or succinct at the start, but as you keep building it up it sticks and becomes clearer.

 

The process is basically like building the puzzle of the picture through binary code, a language you picked up out of the absolute random blue after transition. It comes as naturally to you as happiness, and eventually completes the picture.

 

"Okay, here, watch."

 

The printer makes some arranging noises, and sucks a piece of paper down. The whirring and churning noises that come out of it resemble your own bodies’ but much louder... you kind of feel bad for its shoddy plastic casing. Steel is much stronger. Who said robots couldn’t feel empathy? 

 

The ticking and rattling noises shift a little, and the page is expelled suddenly from the slot with a clear, square image translated onto it in bright ink and refreshingly crisp detail. 

 

"Oh my god, Thrasher you are so sappy."

 

Jess holds up the sheet of paper with the polaroid image of the three of you, lying on a blanket. They laugh softly looking at it while Lonnie just makes cooing noises at it.

 

It was the first date you ever went on as a dating throuple, in the back of a rented pickup truck with three seats in the front, and a picnic in the back. It is such a sappy image, but it's stuck right in the middle of the fridge so you see it a lot. 

 

"You sugar sweet sicko," Lonnie pushes herself up to kiss you softly. 

 

"Oh hush, it's a memorable image." 

 

"No, you want to pull on our heartstrings like the fucking cutie you are!"

 

"Ah, whatever," you wave your hand at her, "what else is there to try?"

 

"Hmm, the chargers?" She moves on, not acknowledging your swift and embarrassed change of subject.

Your breath hitches ever so slightly in your automated lungs. 

 

"Sure."

 

 

You're on the sofa now, still naked, and the psychoelectric flurrying inside you has only gotten worse. Your body can't self lubricate and thank goodness it can't because you are positively charged. Haha, robot joke. You're nervous. 

 

To the two girlfriends in front of you, this should probably one of the least stimulating tests to do, but you are hopelessly distracted right now; the thought of giving your straight up life energy, the charge percentage of your consciousness, to something as simple and inanimate as your partners mobile phone... 

 

Images of you being sat motionless, eyes blown out, kept naked on the sofa as nothing more than an over-glorified charging station with a pretty face. Something used when their more important devices need sustenance.. maybe they'll also have you heating them up by forcing your cooling system off, or utilising your vibration engine for... Oh no, you're doing it again. 

 

"Alright, here we go," Jess plops down on the couch to your right, completely unaware of the filth seeping down your cerebral cortex. 

 

Lonnie is walking towards you like a hyena excitedly closing in on the prey its mate took down and Jess inserts the USB plug into you — you sharply inhale and the tinny clink can be heard from outside your abdomen.

 

"You okay?" Lonnie asks as she sits down on your other side. You are slowly coming to the realisation that you really like it when they box you in. 

 

"Yeah, I'm good," staggering through the reassurance isn't a good look. 

Lonnie smiles and hands her charger lead to Jess, who plugs that USB in right next to it; it's the first time you've had both ports plugged at once and it teeters on the edge of overstimulating.

 

"Feel anything?"

 

"Not yet," you answer Lon, "it's weird not having them plugged into anything. It's like.. hair? I can't feel with it but I can feel it hanging out of me."

 

"Let's plug them in then, yeah?"

 

Breathe; in..

 

"Yep."

 

And out.

 

Jess's fingers trace down the wires, tugging them lightly as she gets to the plugs’ end. The thought to let her move you around like a puppy on a leash ghosts through your mind and your fans act predictably in fashion for this lewd desire. Oh goodness, having her drag you around by your charging cord, making you choose between being an obedient pet for them, or letting yourself succumb to the semi-death of being completely depleted of charge. Stop yourself now!

 

You watch closely as your partner lines up the USB’s with the phones’ holes, feeling only a slight bit voyeuristic staring into the gape of the plug hole. The phones connect one after the other, and you don't immediately feel the assumed sapping sensation of your vitality bleeding into them. A slightly anticlimactic buildup?

 

“Oh, hm, this is odd,” you’re feeling your way down the lead and into both phones at once and this level of parallel multitasking is both very confusing and totally natural to you; why wouldn’t you be able to run two processes at once? That’s easy shit for a computer.

Inside your head — not exactly an image but the thought of an image — appears. You have the ability to do multiple things in either of the phones, branching out like some sort of video-game-esque interface. 

You skim through each menu simultaneously; charge, audio connect, file transfer, screen-in-screen, and so on and so forth. 

 

You are just ever so slightly disappointed on discovering that you have to give your charge rather than have it mercilessly taken from you, but you don’t entertain that side of you for long enough to actually get upset from it.

 

Selecting charge on both interfaces brings you the climax you’d been waiting for — it’s a centralised heat in your right thigh, running up the internal power transfer cord of your body before fading out. If you focus on it close enough you can swear you can feel a soft pulse.

Both phones ding with the notification of supplied power.

 

“Nice, power bank botfriend!”

 

Jess’s little remark only makes you more flustered. 

 

“I can do a bunch of things on them, like make noise and transfer data..” 

 

You push yourself back onto the sofa and exhale deeply, indulging for a moment in the sapping heat that only seems to be growing.

 

“Make noise?” Lonnie questions.

 

Instead of actually responding, you close your eyes and open into one of the phones interfaces, Lonnie’s phone. You don’t have to disconnect yourself from charging it to output audio, so you don’t. Hey, don’t judge, robots are allowed guilty pleasures too.

 

The phone makes a series of rapid beeping as if being spammed with texts.

 

“Thats not helpful, that’s annoying!” Lonnie half-laughs. You could make the noise of an emergency alert too, but that would be annoying.

 

“Could be helpful if you learned morse code,” Jess quips.

 

“Meh,” she replies. You’ve still got your eyes closed, really trying to remember the feeling of this — you doubt that your well meaning girlfriends would ever actually ask you to expend your battery to replenish their phones’, and you wouldn’t tell this to them if it was the last thing you could do! Everybody has their secret fantasies just for themselves, like Jess with feet and Lonnie with… hm, you don’t know. Nothing to be shamed for or ashamed of!

 

The sudden shock of rapidly dissipating heat opens your eyes for you — Jess unplugged her phone?

 

“I’m gonna go get the cig’ lighter plug from the car. Bee-arr-bee,” and they walk out of the room. You hum at her softly and relax back again; did she have to take her phone?

 

Lonnie is still sat next to you, and when she picks up her phone — still plugged into you — you start whirring unintentionally. It is as embarrassing as your fans speeding up since you only do it when you’re stressed, but luckily this little quirk hasn’t been picked up on by your girlfriends yet.

 

“Does it feel weird when I use my phone? Like, can you feel me swiping on the screen?” She highlights this by gently running her fingertip down the glass screen and circling the home button. Jesus, woman, way to demonstrate.

 

“Uh, no, since it doesn’t have the embedded touch sensors that I have-“ you start answering, but she cuts you off.

 

“If I put it on vibrate, would it feel good for you?”

 

What the fuck? It stuns you silent. Your internal fans quicken so you can’t lie and say that she wasn’t affecting you. Alright, this was a quick switch of pace.

 

“Damn Lon, where’d that come from?!” You try and make the tone of your voice as if you were unexpecting and playfully joking along with her, but none of that lands.

 

“Oh shut up Thrash, do you seriously think me and Jess haven’t noticed your fans going on max power, you being suspisciously warm even for the heat, your constant zoning out? You’re horny as a rabbit!”

 

“What?!” You bypass the speciesist stereotype out of pure shock.

 

“You’ve been lit up since we started talking about testing!”

 

“Lit up? What are you..?!”

 

Lonnie is laughing at you now and you’re whirring again, desperately hoping she doesn’t make the connection and learn more about you before you do. She doesn’t unplug her phone but she does pull up the camera, and gestures towards your crotch.

 

“Can I…?”

 

You swallow heavily.

 

“Um, yes?!” The questioning peak at the end of your sentences has become entrenched!

 

She leans over and takes a picture of the space between your spread legs and you feel like a right and proper slut. To make matters worse, the door jingles open and thuds shut, and Jess walks in as Lonnie sits back up.

 

“Ooh, we taking nudies?” She jokes as she walks back over with a plug in hand.

 

“Look,” Lonnie hands her phone to you.

 

On the screen, between the round and shiny curves of your alloy thighs, underneath the dip of your preserved pubic mound, and just atop the black polycarbonate plastic head of your penis, is a small pink LED.

 

“What the fuck? What the FUCK?”

 

“Are you only just finding out about your fleshlight, babe?” Jess asks, far too nonchalantly for this utterly mortifying discovery.

 

“Don’t call it that!” Lonnie reprimands, to Jess’s amusal. You simply stare at the light on the picture, before reaching down and looking into the plugged tip of your penis.

 

“When..?”

 

“You’ve had it since you transitioned, I guess!” Lonnie shrugs with a smile on her face and you are more embarrassed. 

 

“Yeah,” Jess begins, “you can control your boners now but we still know when you think like a perv!”

 

Oh you are fucking mortified. You keep staring at this little light stuffed into the dimple of where your urethra should be, should you still needed to pee. It’s properly embedded, and has a warm pink glow similar to the colour of your fur before you transitioned.

 

“How didn’t you know? We’ve had sex at last once since you changed?” She look to Jess for confirmation, and yeah, you have had sex once, one-on-one sex with Lon, since you transitioned.

 

“I just thought my new eyes were, like, night vision or something?”

 

The both of them have a good laugh over that and you can’t help but reluctantly join in. God, how humiliating, they’ve literally been watching you hide your sticky hand all afternoon and haven’t suggested to keep any bedroom doors locked. You’ve never had any reason to look down there! You’ve been a bit hesitant to explore this new body in the couple weeks since you’ve changed since you haven’t had the chance to be alone, anyways.

 

“Aww, no, it’s cute!” Lonnie says between small laughs, “you might have night vision, we’ll have to test more!”

 

It makes your heart flutter a bit to think about being tested on more, and this time you don’t push the thoughts down. You do, however, put your limp penis back down between your legs as you feel a bit out of place holding it up towards you like a hose someone’s stepped on in an attempt to prank you.

 

“So,” standing up, Jess claps their hands together, “are you gonna let me stick a plug in you, darl?”

 

“Oh boo," you flap your hand at her sillily, "that wasn’t subtle at all!”

 

“Subtle is my middle name, get over here!”

 

 

Your butt has never been so pronounced. Lying on your stomach, your girls are kneeling beside the sofa and toying with the hole in the back of your neck, an overwhelming abnormal thing to be doing. Your auxiliary power outlet — your AUX hole — is about to be used to power a car cigarette lighter, which is objectivly one of the lousiest uses for an AUX. Like, you could be operating a car GPS or charging multiple phones at once! 

 

Jess is wiping the little plug down; it kind of looks like a champagne cork in a stereotypical tech-ified universe. Her car isn't the cleanest so there's probably spilled sticky cola on it and the last thing you want for a plug thats entire job is to get dangerously hot is for it to get stuck in your neck. 

 

"Will it hurt?" Curious, Lon asks. 

 

"I don't know," quirking your head over to look at her, "I don't really feel temperature until it effects my internal operation, so I think this might just be... warm?"

 

"Hopefully!" she places her hand on your cheek, "I don't want to hurt you."

 

"I do."

 

"Jess!"

 

"I'm joking! Unless they consent, then I-"

 

"No, no-oo! And, this time, give a countdown before you jam it into them!"

 

Jess huffs a laugh out as they slink up your body, half-laying on top of you. The small amount of full body pressure she gives you is startlingly comforting; your body doesn't bend and squash where she leans on you, instead absorbing the pressure. Very nice. 

 

"Okay, twenty... nineteen..."

 

"Be serious!"

 

"One!"

 

A strong sense of déjà vu washes over you when you zone out as something is pushed into your body, with both girlfriends arguing over you. It doesn't last for long though, because as soon as Jess's finger presses in on the little button. This is exactly like how it all started, with angry girls and things inside you. 

 

Jesses finger presses down onto the plugs button mid-talking and it pushes you down ever so slightly. Hot.

The electric current blasts into it almost shockingly — did you get Jess? No, she's fine. 

 

How long does it take for one of these to heat up again? You set your internal stopwatch on... which is a skill that you didn't realise you had until you realised you could perfectly keep the time while focused on other things. 

 

One, two, three, four...

 

The feeling of supplying power to this little nubbin isn't as sapping as powering the phones was, but thats mostly because you're aware it's been inserted into and has become a part of your body, however temporarily that may be. Flowing energy wells inside of it, a glittery ghost of electricity on the tip of your spine. 

 

Nine, ten, eleven...

 

Heat starts flowering in the soft back of your neck, your spine tingling as you push more and more electricity into this little thing that cannot hold it all, was designed to be unable to hold it all, and is burning itself red. 

You brace your hands onto the fabric of the sofa and hold in a breath as the plug just keeps getting hotter. It doesn't stop, it just keeps burning and burning..

 

Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty...

 

Heat bleeds down the length of your spine as the seconds go on; an overflow of energy that your body KNOWS it shouldn't be supplying but you have more control than the average noughties automobile, so you simply keep injecting your power into the plug. 

 

Twenty-three, twenty-four...

 

The button pops up. One of your girlfriends pulls out the plug and oh boy that does things to you... the heat releasing, the flush of cool air, the way you tension snaps out of you as power is disconnected.

 

"Ooa–aughh..." 

 

Moaning without meaning to like something the director asks for specifically in an after-nine movie. You are beyond embarrassed and only manage to look at them by virtue of the easy automation your metallic joints give. 

 

Lonnie is bright red and Jess is just holding the red hot plug with a smile. Lon claps her hands over her face and laughs in a cutely muffled way and it does nothing to calm you down.

 

"Alright, I can't take it anymore. Come on."

 

"What– where are we going!"

 

"Bedroom!"