Troy had basically no idea what to do about this turn of events. He stepped back quickly, avoiding his lawn chair. As he did, he suddenly became aware of the press of Paradox attempting to strike him. It was a palpable thing.
Literally. One minute he was wearing a t-shirt in the warm night air and the next a Letterman’s Jacket appeared on him, making him suddenly overly warm. He panted, tongue hanging, out, and it took him a moment to realize that dogs panted and he wasn’t a dog.
“Looks like Paradox is hitting you now.” Randy stepped forward, attempting to close the distance.
Troy could see black fur spread over his body. His ears grew and folded over themselves. His panting quickened as his muzzle pulled back and blunted.
“It’s turning me into a dog?” Troy asked.
“Rottweiler. A chubby stoner ex-jock, in fact.” Randy sneered.
Not good. Drugs would compromise his thoughts, making it practically impossible to fight Paradox long enough to deal with Randy. He felt his long tiger tail slide back up his spine until only a nub remained. Even his claws were gone, no longer retracting when he popped them out.
He took another step back and staggered as a feeling of vertigo hit him. Troy blinked. Had he shrunk? He glanced back up at Randy, who loomed at least a foot taller than he was. He whined.
What could he do?
“Where’s Tex?” Troy asked.
Randy paused. “What do you mean?”
“The bull that was sitting here.” Troy took a drag from his blunt and paused, then coughed and hacked. “I changed him.”
His mind filled with a strange euphoria. He staggered, fat softening his body-builder frame, making him look like he’d taken a few months off and all of them were cheat days. His shirt disappeared with a *pop*, leaving his soft belly hanging free. Another *pop* and he had a white baseball cap on his head turned backwards like he’d seen some jock douches do.
But he had the Book, and the thoughts about being a college jock who got kicked off the team and spent his college daze stoned and eating pizza while being fucked by Randy weren’t landing as effectively as they would have.
“Master Tex was the bull!?” Randy’s eyes widened. “Master Sam would never forgive me!”
Wait, so Tex and Sam…Sam was the Book of Transmutation guy and he’d given Tex a ride? Troy was dazed and confused. But he played along anyways.
Troy giggled. “Yeah, naughty doggy, you’re in big trouble now!”
“I-I-I-…” Rusty’s eyes flickered and his jaw dropped. “N-ot c-correct. Error. Rebooting.”
There was a light pop from the robot’s head and the smell of burnt plastic filled Troy’s yard. He stared at the Rusty bot in horror. Had he killed Rusty? If he animated him now, would he be dead of a brain aneurysm or something?
He couldn’t dwell on it. If he didn’t get to that Book right now, he’d end up a stupid stoner fuck toy. He grabbed Rusty’s key from his pocket and sprinted around the neighborhood. He winded easily. Maybe he shouldn’t have blown off all those workouts.
Troy didn’t know what Rusty had driven here in, so he hit the alarm button. A truck nearby sounded a car alarm that had all the guests jumping. Troy quickly quieted it and checked the back of the truck. A bullman fucktoy lay in the bed on a canvas tarp. Bingo.
He checked the clothes that lay in a pile next to it and fished out a hotel card. Presidential Suite at the Filton. Troy smirked. Not bad, Tex.
Tory drove to the Filton, hoping he’d find the Book there.
Fourteen minutes later, he pulled into the Filton, munching on a bag of Sunions. He was so stoned. For some reason, no matter how many he threw away, more lit joints kept appearing in his hands the whole drive down. He’d considered just going along with it, but a sobering voice in his told him he’d end up a fucktoy if he did that.
On his drive here, he’d come up with a brilliant plan that would totally work. Like, The Book dude knew that Randy was supposed to bring Troy back as a fucktoy. So Troy showing up as a giggling stoned idiot carrying a bull fuck toy wouldn’t trigger any alarms. He just had to, like, call the dude Master.
And when he arrived at the Filton, that was what he did. He lugged the sex toy in, drawing stares. He just wagged his tail and entered the elevator before the front desk guy could stop him. There was a slot for the Presidential Suite. He stuffed the key card in it and up he went.
The door dinged and opened to a hallway with three doors. Troy shrugged and tried the first one. It swung open. A handsome yet strangely plain looking man in his late thirties was pacing in the room and stopped when he saw him. His hand went to a Book on the table and his finger pointed at him.
“Master.” Troy giggled, barely noticing the thrill the word sent through him. “Randy sent me with a big prize!”
The man paused. “You must be Troy. I expected you to be a fucktoy by now.”
Troy stuck a finger in his mouth and it whirred audibly. The man relaxed and smiled. He gestured to two other robots who had stood and they sat back down. Troy tried not to think too hard about the 'other robots' thought.
“Good boy. Set it down on the bed.”
”Yes master.” Troy said, another jolt of pleasure rushing through him. His cock hardened.
“I’m not sure how Randy managed to transform you into another robot, but I can’t say I’m displeased at the results.” He began to inspect the bull. “In working order. I’ll have to make some adjustments later. You," Sam narrowed his eyes at Troy, "Stay here. The rest of you, go and find that Book!"
The other robots nodded and left. Troy stood there, awaiting orders, aware that his fur was becoming more faux than fur by the minute. But…why was he waiting on anything? He needed to make his move now. The other robots-he cringed-were gone.
”Master,” His cock jumped, a stain spread across the front of his pants, “Do you wish me to take him somewhere?”
He waited for the man to answer. Minutes ticked by. The faux fur spread, itching fiercely, though Troy couldn’t bring himself to scratch it, until it covered his body. He was right behind him, he could take the man out. But something held him there, unmoving.
Master-no, Sam, finally turned, holding the bull toy.
“Take the bull and move it to the couch. You’ll need to use your cock to indoctrinate him.”
“Yes, master.” More precum dribbled from the head of his cock, which took on a shiny red latex sheen. Troy groaned happily and turned-
“Halt!”
“Master?” Troy inquired. His balls plumped heavily and something whirred and clicked deep inside them.
Samster paused, inspecting him carefully. “Not quite done yet. Continue as instructed.”
“Yes master!” Precum-no, lubricant, pumped out of his erect cock.
He could feel it slick up the insides of his jeans, making movement delightful on his throbbing cock. He wanted to squirm and moan as he walked to the couch, each bouncing step sending shivers of pleasure up his cock. Each twinge sent more lubricant into his pants, soaking his jeans.
S-something was wrong, he knew that. He should be fighting, using his Book, but he couldn’t do that until Master ordered him, right? He set the Bull on the couch, feeling a thrill of satisfaction as he completed his order.
“Disrobe.” Master ordered.
“Master.” Troy acknowledged, hips shivering and little tail stub wiggling.
He knew he should stop this now, but Troy’s paws moved automatically, pulling his jacket off before he’d even had time to think. Tiny servos whirled in his wrists, clawed fingers unzipping his jeans and pulling them down, letting his unnaturally stiff doggy cock to bob in the air.
Master gave him another thorough inspection. “Your brass plaque isn’t quite done, it seems. I was going for a stoner, but let’s change a few words. How about: Thick Fucker Tucker, the Doping Doggy Domestic.”
“Domestic, Master?” Troy asked, his eyes turning into plastic, no longer blinking.
“Don’t mind that, it’s just another term for butler.” Master smiled. “And Rottweilers just don’t have that refined air to them. We’ll change that too. Put your clothes back on.”
“Yes Ma~aster.” Troy’s voice cracked mid sentence and gained an artificial tone to it.
“Yeah,” Master nodded, noting the change. “Now you’re starting to sound better.”
It took a few moments for Troy’s oddly stiff joints to shift and bend into pants and his jacket. Sam smiled and nodded, framing Troy with his fingers and checking something on his phone.
“Alright, alright, alright. One butler comin’ up! Let’s see if you’re far enough along: Object!”
Truy felt the words etch themselves into his brass plaque and stiffened, posture straightening, and then with odd popping sounds, he grew taller. He wobbled, head growing dizzy, now towering a foot over Sam. Trucky felt his lips wobble and then flop over his lower lips, giving him loose jowls.
His face pushed out, muzzle lengthening and squaring up. His ear perked up, the folds straightening, leaving his ear standing stiff and stretching a little more. Truckey’s nubby tail wriggled on it’s servos and lengthen into a long, thin, whip-like tail that slowed to a stop.
Trucker’s fur coat changed color, turning gray, sweeping across his chest, still just as fake as his old fur coat. As it swept across his body, his frame shuddered, creaked, and grew. Faux muscles flexed and engorged, silicone fat squirming and shifting into a tighter set of abs. False veins wormed themselves across his skin.
His clothes changed, Letterman’s Jacket lengthening and turning black, leather sleeves shifting to cloth and two tails draped to the back of his knees as it became a tailcoat. He jerked as a tight, stiff-collared shirt appeared, a tie knotting itself and damn near choking him, though he no longer needed to breath.
Tucker’s Great Dane bone was encased in a tight plastic sleeve that sucked and pulsed around it. He moaned, voice flat and without intonation. Jeans shifted into proper pants and a black cummerbund wrapped itself around his waist, concealing his cock, pinning it against his abs, where it pulsed and sucked away at his member silently.
“Tucker?” Sam asked softly.
“Yes Master.” Tucker’s voice still carrying no tone, body not moving despite the pleasure. His brain slowly shifted into a CPU, thoughts becoming files and code and 1’s and 0’s. The sleeve continued to pulse and suck.
“You will speak in a deep, upper-class British voice.” Master ordered. “I added the files to your CPU. Delete your old voice.”
“Yes Master~” The Robot’s voice dropped to a deep, resonant bass. The accent was posh. In Tucker’s opinion, it was quite dignified. Troy’s voice file was gleefully deleted.
“The device attached to your cock is a factory reset device.” Sam grinned and addressed the device. “Factory reset him. Let’s start with a fresh slate. Keep the voice and insert the butler program.”
The device attached to Tucker’s cock beeped and the sucking and pulsing increased. His earliest memories whirled inside his head and fell away into his cock. 10% appeared on the device’s LCD screen.
“Master!” Tucker tried to protest. “Grrgl-!”
Sam shoved a dildo in his mouth. Tucker’s throat whirred and undulated around it, lubricating it.
“Don’t speak. Don’t move. Give in.” Master ordered.” Increase speed of deletion.”
Tucker realized how much trouble he was in now, he needed to-!
The device hummed around his dick and, strangely, in his head as well. A powerful, mind numbing wave of pleasure shot through his entire body.
20%
Something had been taken. Oh fuck! Tucker struggled to remember what it was-which was his teen years, school. But the growing pleasure was becoming too sheer and too intense and he realized it was about to suck away more of his thou-
The device hummed, harder now. Another shot exploded in his head. His body twitched, despite Master’s orders.
40%
The LCD screen was flashing and he knew it meant something, but Tucker was too overwhelmed to notice. He’d forgotten high school now. It hadn’t been necessary, and whirred away into the sleeve.
Tucker struggled as the pleasure finally faded to a steady pulse, he…huh…he…what? The sleeve was pulling the very thoughts out of his head, and now it was building up again, he wasn’t ready, he wasn-
The device hummed and hammered his brain, pleasure shaking all his memories loose as it sucked and pulsed.
70%
Tucker wanted to whimper but he couldn’t because he was forgetting, he was helpless, he couldn’t take off the sleeve. The sleeve primed itself again, Tucker wanted it to stop, he couldn’t remember college, but he had a job and RUsty and-
The device whirred and sucked and the hum grew, louder this time, so loud he couldn’t think, the pleasure building and he couldn’t, he couldn’t!
His mind exploded in a shower of pleasurable ecstasy.
100%
Tucker drooled lubricant as his cock initiated orgasm. He wasn’t even aware of it. The robot stared straight ahead, mouth undulating and squeezing the dildo, cock sleeve slowing before coming to a stop.
The sleeve beeped and an upload process started. It only took a few seconds.
“Butler?” Sam asked.
“Yes Master?” Tucker intoned.
“Initiate Butler subroutine and commence cleaning.” Sam dismissed him.
Tucker executed the subroutine and followed Master’s command. Every dish he washed, bed he made, all gave him a jolt of pleasure. By the time the apartment had been cleaned, he’d had three orgasms.
This is THE END: #2 Sam’s Butler