dickgirl

Notes: Inspired by ‘Surrogates’, in which people can transfer their consciousness into biomechanical dolls/bodies. Crossposted to: Futanaripalace.com; Hentai-Foundry.com; Literotica.com. Contains:futanari(dickgirl)/female, sci-fi themes



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>>Surrogate Wireless Neural Link integrated. Model SSN-A-PSK-87943-498 activated. Operator, please initiate a feedback-check. Would you like a feedback check tutorial?< <



“Fuck, no,” Candi Carter said as she reclined in the life-support cradle, one foot tick-tocking back and forth with great impatience. “This isn’t exactly my first time around, shit-for-brains.”



The Neural Link software considered this response, and seemed to accept the negative option. Candi closed her eyes, and her consciousness filtered slowly from her natural body to the one that had been created according to her detailed specifications. She had forked over a lot of credit for this new body, especially with the hot new modification.



This was her third Surrogate; Candi was pretty used to the feedback check when activating a new biomechanical body. As soon as her consciousness was fully encapsulated in the new Surrogate, she began flexing her fingers and toes, gauging the amount of feeling. She raised the smooth, pale hands and ran them down over large, gravity-defying tits, grinning at the realistic pebbling of her nipples.



“Nice,” she said, and then looked down the new naked body at her crotch. She couldn’t bend over too far, because the body was still plugged into the charging station, right beside her two older Surrogate bodies, but she saw what she needed to see. “Oh, yeah.”



Dangling loosely between beautiful thighs was a nicely formed cock, the new modification that was going to be all the rage. A cock on a female Surrogate body! It was insane; the first time she saw it advertised, she wanted to be the first to have it. Her usual physical modifications were those vaguely based on her own natural looks and were simply a matter of adjusting certain external aesthetics, but this modification included some complex systems programming.



It was pretty expensive, because those nerds up at the Division kept bleating about how they had to find a way to connect the female psyche to the idea of having a male organ attached between their legs, and how to ‘control’ it. That was petty bullshit, Candi thought, just as much as those transgendered fucks made noises about how the development in technology was perfect for people who had body-identification issues. Fuck them. This model was all the newest on the block, and only those with the most credits and the best connections won the game.



Like Candi. She glanced over at the life-support cradle and wrinkled her nose. Unlike the Surrogates she ordered, her real body was slender and unimpressive, almost boyish in form. In this form, with its unbelievable hourglass figure, long black wavy hair, sparkling grey eyes and ethereally pale skin, she was a knockout. She hardly spent time in her real body, anyway, except for its daily exercise. It held her physical brain, of course, but that was the extent of the appeal it held for her.



As soon as they perfected the technology to maintain human consciousness indefinitely in a Surrogate body, without the risk of irreversible psychosis, Candi was outta there. Who needed to deal with the frailty of biological bodies when the Surrogates were stronger, tougher, faster, sexier…better in every single way? Not Candi Carter, that was for fucking sure. Her family’s company designed and built the tiny chips that were the powerful basis of the Neural Link. Without their work, operators couldn’t connect to their Surrogates. Well, ‘their work’ meaning that of her parents and older siblings, Candi couldn’t bother with all that hard shit.



A small ping from the charging station indicated that the Surrogate was fully powered. Candi stepped off the small dais, and stared at the soft breathing of the natural body. That wasn’t her real body. Her real bodies were the Surrogates, which didn’t need to breathe at all.



She had to call Santao, and show off this shit.



+



“You bitch,” Santao said in a breathless little voice, his eyes wide as Candi paraded in front of the holo-vid, naked. “How’d you get that model so fucking fast?”



“Pre-order, assface,” Candi said and struck a pose. “Got the right number of credits, get to the front of the line. That’s how the world works, didn’t you know?”



“I’m hard as a rock right now, lemme tell you,” Santao said. Candi giggled; the holographic image of her best friend wavered a little bit as he reached into his boxers and fondled his dick. “I mean, cocks don’t do it for me, but on this surro? It’s fucking hot. You test-drive the merchandise yet?”



“Of course! Jerked off a few minutes ago.”



“How was it?”



Candi strolled over to her large bed, flopping onto it and rolling on her side. The dick, limp and soft, rested against her thigh.



“It was so good, Tao. I came and came so much out of my dick, and rubbed some of the cum in my cunny. It felt really amazing.”



“I hate you,” Santao said, his arm moving rapidly as he continued to jack off. “I wanna fuck you, though.”



“Later.” Candi sat up and squinted at him playfully. “We have> to go out to the Regency and put this surro to good use.”



+



The Regency had three levels: the ground level was called the George, and it was a club that catered to those with lower-end Surrogates, or those who hadn’t had recent upgrades, or even those who walked around in their natural bodies. Candi didn’t want those losers touching her, so she walked around a back corridor and down a staircase, Santao in tow. They descended past the Anne level and emerged into a massive, opulent space of the Sophia floor. Private cubicles with silken curtains surrounded a gilt-edged dance-floor; in the corners, beautiful women and men danced in hanging cages.



“Hello, Miss Carter, Mr. Torreno,” the host said with a small smile. “Your usual seat?”



“Of course,” Candi told him haughtily, throwing a mocking look over her shoulder at Santao, who rolled his eyes. “Remember when we were in senior year in high school, and we snuck out from home to come here, Tao?”



“That was just a few months ago, you dizzy slut,” Santao reminded her. The host stopped at one of the bigger compartments and pulled away the curtains with a flourish. A low, wide dais was completely covered with a massive pillow, which in turn had a pile of smaller cushions scattered over it. This compartment was reserved especially for Candi and her friends, and she shrugged off the large coat she wore, throwing it at the host. She wore a simple black dress, but it was dangerously short, tight and showed off more of the swell of her massive, plush tits that was strictly necessary. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and clambered onto the comfortable platform, not removing the high heeled black boots which clung to her thighs.



She well knew that relaxing on the dais this way would reveal her cock to anyone who was looking, and the thought made her cunt went and her dick begin to ooze pre-cum.



“You just love the attention, don’t you?” Santao said as he climbed up as well. Santao brushed a hand through his dark blue curls before snuggled up to Candi, sliding a hand up her thighs. His arms were covered with dark tattoos which changed colour according to his mood. Candi like that mod, but she didn’t think it would suit her.



She let her legs fall open a bit more, and Santao made a face when his hand brushed against her hard cock.



“Told you, I’m not about the cock at all.”



“You want the pussy, you gotta go past the sentry,” Candi retorted and laughed at Santao’s mock-sour expression. He gave her dick a single quick stroke, and then slid down his hand quickly to toy with the fleshy lips of her cunt. The Surrogate body generated bodily fluids so realistically, and so much of it! When she’d used the dick that first time, it seemed it had spat out gallons of sticky cum onto her bed. She’d probably have to get a fluid-replenishment very soon.



“Hey,” Santao said as he fingered Candi slowly. “Look over there, isn’t that Grace Weston?”



“Where?!” Candi went up on her elbows, gazing at the other compartments. People were dancing in a desultory fashion, blocking her view.



“There, look.” Santao pushed two fingers right up in her even as he jerked his head in a direction opposite to their location. “Didn’t you have a thing with her?”



“Oh, she had a thing for me,” Candi lied, trying to catch a glimpse of Grace Weston’s dark hair. Some of the dancers shifted out of the way, and Candi actually started a little when Grace’s gaze suddenly met hers.



In this town, the Westons were just as inventive and prosperous as the Carters, and Grace’s philanthropy was well-known in the whole state. Grace was just a fucking goody-two-shoes, as far as Candi was concerned.



Candi hummed as Santao’s fingers played in her pussy, deftly avoiding her cock. She grabbed his wrist suddenly and pulled it out and away from herself, ignoring his complaints.



“You’re a tease, Candi,” he said, but there was little heat behind his words. “You see Grace, and you don’t know what to do with yourself.”



“That’s not true,” Candi said, staring over at Grace, who had turned away to talk to her companions. “Santao, either that stupid bitch has a true-to-natural surro, or she’s not in one at all. Who let her down here like that?”



“Westons go anywhere they like,” Santao reminded her. “Just like Carters. And Torrenos.”



“Whatever.” She slid to the edge of the dais and swung her legs off the edge, ineffectually tugging down the hem of her dress. She had an erection and the thick outline was obvious through the material to anyone who looked…and they all should be looking, anyway.



“Where are you going?” Santao asked, frowning at her. Candi waved a hand back at him as she strode away. He’d get another girl in there soon enough. Santao was resourceful like that.



Candi shoved people out of her way until she got to Grace’s compartment. She leaned against the supporting wall and stared at all of Grace’s little friends, who glanced expectantly at Grace, who was perched at the edge of the padded dais, legs tucked neatly underneath herself. She nodded and twitched her shoulders, almost imperceptibly. As one, they roused themselves from the cushions and melted away, heading either for the dance-floor or other compartments.



Candi just kept on staring at Grace, who was indeed in her natural body. Usually Candi thought it was pathetic and gross to be like that, but Grace made it look elegant. She didn’t possess the smooth paleness that Candi paid so much for, but had skin the colour of rich honey, and dark brown eyes.



Finally, Candi said, in sultry tones: “Grace Weston.”



One of Grace’s dark eyebrows arched up in greeting. “Cassandra Carter,” she murmured, brushing wisps of wavy hair from her face. She wore a black dress as well, but hers was very long, clinging along her slender body all the way. The neckline plunged in a deep vee to reveal the inner curves of her breasts, but she still managed to emanate an air of sweet wholesomeness.



“It’s Candi now. Cassandra’s too old-fashioned,” Candi said as she sat on the bed close to Grace.



“I’ve always liked it,” Grace said. “But I guess if it’s Candi now…”



“It is.” Candi leaned close, sniffing at the unique scent of real sweat. Surrogates didn’t have that. “Why aren’t you in a Surrogate?”



Grace shrugged. “Felt like being myself today.”



“But you’re still yourself in a Surrogate.”



More like myself, then,” Grace said, and she didn’t sound as defensive as Candi thought she should have. “I know you hate your natural body, but not everyone is like you.”



“They should be.” Candi ran both hands over her massive breasts, smirking as Grace’s gaze snapped to the movement. “Like my new surro?”



“The SSN-A Model?” Grace smiled. “I got a chance to work on those when I interned at the Division this summer.”



“You interned?” Candi wrinkled her nose. “Your parents could give you your own floor at the Division, if you wanted.”



“I wanted to intern before I went off to college.” Grace’s expression was very grave; Candi had always hated and admired that solemn intensity about her. “Just because my family works for the Division doesn’t mean I get to do what I want. I really want to learn.”



“So what did you learn about this model?” Candi licked her lips, watching how Grace’s eyes followed the motion.



“Well, the psyche-integration protocols were kind of a pain. And the ‘A’ in the model name stands for Aphroditus,” Grace said, still looking at Candi’s perfectly sculpted lips. She raised her gaze to lock with Candi’s. “You know where that comes from, right?”



“Of course I know,” Candi lied. “What do you take me for, some kind of dizzy bitch?”



“No, never.”



Slightly thrown off by Grace’s quick and direct answer, Candi rallied back with a seductive leer. “Did you get a chance to try out one of these Aphroditus models?”



Grace shook her head, smiling a little. Candi put her hand on Grace’s arm, feeling the soft natural warmth.



“You want to try mine?” Candi asked, leaning close. “As in, this cock in your cunt. You’ll be my first, you know. Well, not my first-first, you know what I mean.”



“I know what you mean,” Grace said, still with that small smile. “You were always my first-first.”



Candi leaned back, staring at Grace’s mild expression. She never could have figured Grace out, not even when they used to finger each other all over the place at school. Candi always had a feeling that Grace was never really fully hers, and it pissed her off a little.



Candi managed to find her voice and say, “Come back with me to my place. I’ll fuck you hard, you’ll love it.”



Grace licked her lips, and said, “Okay. But what about Tao?”



“What about him?” Candi asked, a little unkindly. She turned and looked over her shoulder, where Santao had not one, not two, but three voluptuous girls in his booth, one kneeling over and slurping hungrily around his thick cock while the other two watched, finger-fucking each other in a way that might have severely injured a natural human body, fingers plunging roughly past dripping, fat cunt-lips. “He’s fine. Let’s go.”



She tugged gently on Grace’s arm, mindful of the strength of a Surrogate against the delicate bones of a regular human. Grace rose willingly and they walked together up the stairs; she was so tiny, a whole head shorter than Candi in her biomechanical body. Candi could hardly wait to push her new meaty pole up inside the other girl’s tight snatch. Candi had a small, almost devious smile on her face even as they exited the Regency and boarded her vehicle, a quick little thing with a bubble-roof. The vehicle blurred the transparency of the glass at her request, and obeyed her orders to return to her home.



Candi wasted no time on the drive home trying to get Grace as wet and ready as possible. She pulled the other girl close, kissing her deeply even as she snaked her hand up the long dress and pushed aside the material of the other girl’s panties, stroking Grace’s cunt-lips. Grace moaned and opened her legs even more, gasping as one of Candi’s fingers slipped inside her, then another.



“Nngh, yes,” Grace panted, wriggling helplessly. Candi pulled down the neckline of Grace’s dress, and dived down to take a distended nipple, licking and biting it relentlessly. Grace grabbed at her head almost helplessly and Candi switched over to the other one. Candi’s cock leaked thinly translucent streams of bio-liquid.



Candi didn’t notice that the vehicle had reached her apartment complex until she felt the soft bump of it entering the lift to her penthouse. Grace pushed her away, tugging her dress back into place. Her skin seemed to glow with sweat and her eyes were bright. Candi licked the side of her face, smiling as Grace made a sound of faint complaint.



The lift reached her floor, and the bubble-roof peeled back just as the lift-door slid open. Grace swung out her legs and walked quietly inside Grace’s penthouse, looking around the large, open space. Candi walked up behind her, pressing her erect cock into the small of Grace’s back.



“Ready?” she asked, even as she was tugging up Grace’s dress. Grace nodded.



“Sure,” she said, and then: “Model SSN-A-PSK, initiate operator lock-down and control transfer procedures.”



Candi felt her whole body freeze, and a voice that sounded suspiciously like the flat, gender-neutral one used for the Neural Link software came out of her mouth against her will: “Operator lock-down. Model number 87943-498 awaiting control transfer user name and security passcode.”



Grace turned around, looking up into Candi’s frozen face, a small smile playing around her lips.



“User name: Weston, Grace Sophia. Passcode: Golf Whiskey Echo Sierra Tango 05-0-10 Charlie Oscar November Tango Romeo Oscar Lima.”



“Override accepted,” Candi’s mouth said. “Operator Control transferred. System locked to voice commands from new operator, Grace Sophia Weston.”



“Edit system settings,” Grace said. “Return vocal control to Operator Cassandra Carter.”



“System edit accepted,” Candi said in that toneless voice, and then her real voice shook as she said, “What the fuck did you do to me?”



“It’s a security override the Division can provide to the police or the army if an Operator goes berserk,” Grace said, conversationally. “Most Division employees don’t know about it, don’t worry. I managed to sneak in my own codes with the psyche-protocols of this series. Follow me.”



“Why?” Candi hated the plaintive way she sounded, as she trudged after Grace towards her bedroom. “Why would you put in your own codes?”



Grace threw her a sly look over her shoulders. “I have this ex, see? She likes to get the latest Surrogates and mods. I figured if I played my cards right, I could catch her in a nice little trap.”



“You’re not as nice as I thought you were,” Candi said from between clenched teeth. Grace laughed, a happy, clear sound.



“I never told you I was nice.”



Candi followed her into her own bedroom, and stopped when Grace told her to. She watched as Grace stepped past the charging stations which held her other Surrogates, and stopped in front of the life-support cradle which held Candi’s real body.



“Look at yourself,” Grace said softly. Candi did as she was commanded; she stared at the thin, pale limbs splayed loosely in the gentle curve of the cradle. Her real body was carelessly clad in a thin, formless shift which did nothing to hide the bare rise of her small breasts, topped by large dark nipples. Her black hair was long and matted, almost completely obscuring her small face.



“The natural human body is such a thing of wonder,” Grace said, brushing the uncombed hair away and looking at Candi’s real, gently breathing body with affection. She undid the fastenings of the shift, parting them gently to display the form Candi hated so much.



Candi top-lip curled in disgust. “You sound like one of those stupid Naturalites,” she said, and Grace shook her head as she fiddled with the controls for the cradle. With a mechanical whirr, the cradle raised in the air and tilted back even more. The skinny legs of Candi’s real body fell open, displaying the bush-covered pussy lips. Candi’s cock, still hard and dripping thick gobs of pre-cum, twitched as Grace leaned against the life-support cradle and bent forward, pushing the skinny legs even wider, giving Candi’s hairy cunt a quick kiss.



Candi breathed hard as Grace used her thumbs to pull apart the outer lips, revealing the lush pink flesh inside. Grace’s tongue laved those inner lips over and over. Now and again she pressed her entire mouth right against Candi’s pussy, moaning hard as she ate her out. Candi’s cock now stood fully out, just as programmed, jutting from underneath the short hem of her dress.

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