Bill sat in front of the computer, his eyes skimming the screen that detailed his own personal stats. It was peculiar and almost eerie to see his own life and desires laid out in such a cold, detached manner.
His cursor hovered over an entry that read 'Machine Fetish,' and he couldn't help but let out a quiet chuckle. Of course it listed that, how could it not? His life was full of machines, they were his passion, his obsession. They didn't get annoyed, didn't judge, didn't demand more than he could give - a stark contrast to people.
As his eyes skimmed over more information about himself, a wicked thought sparked inside him. What if he could experience life as a machine? His immense curiosity and healthy skepticism wrestled with each other, but the idea was just too tantalizing to ignore.
The Chronivac, as the machine was labelled, seemed to have an array of transformation options. He felt his pulse quicken at the very idea. It sounded ludicrous, preposterous even, but his heart pounded in anticipation, as if it knew something amazing was about to happen.
Seeing the auto-reverse function that could revert any changes made after a short period of time, Bill decided to give into his desire, "Just this once," he murmured, justifying it to himself. He wanted to – needed to – see if it worked and he rationalized, all the while knowing that he was grasping at any excuse. His selected transformation was simple and small - a robot vacuum cleaner.
"Humph, if this works," he thought, cautiously hitting the initiate button, "It's going to be one hell of an experience." A part of him was frightened to admit how much he craved this, feared the disappointment if it didn't work.
With a sense of nervous exhilaration, Bill reached a trembling finger towards the start button before decisively pressing it. He immediately felt a strange sensation; it was as though his very atoms were beginning to dance. Getting up from the chair, he could feel his body morphing, becoming formless. The sensation was not exactly painful but it was undeniably bizarre. The room swam around him as he was becoming shorter and flatter.
His eyes lingered on his reflection – a blob that was steadily growing smaller. He watched, fascinated and petrified at the same moment, as the amorphous figure he had become started to take on the shape of a Roomba.
Suddenly, he passed out, his consciousness flitting into darkness as his physical body was replaced and his mind was transformed. It lasted for a moment, and then he was alive again – yet not in the way he was accustomed to.
He saw the world anew through a set of sensors that were now his eyes. Everything appeared in a stark contrast of black and white and a cascade of sensory data from infrared sensors and other detectors he had no words to put to. He realized his purpose, an objective that bloomed anew in his consciousness, the thought almost comically filled with pressing gravity – to clean the carpet.
Never before had he felt a purpose so defined, so clear-cut. As he oriented himself and got his bearings, a wave of unexpected satisfaction washed over him. Was this the simplicity, the straightforwardness he had always craved? It almost elicited a chuckle, but he remembered that his audio outputs weren't capable of that sort of actions and settled for a delighted electronic beep instead.
He activated his cleaning motor, a sense of anticipation welling up within his circuits. Then, with the shrill whirr of electric motor and the hum of suction fan, he set about cleaning the carpet. As he moved around fulfilling his new purpose, he felt a contentment he had never thought possible.
All he needed was to hear the crunch of dust through his sensors and to see the dirt disappear into his body. He was part of a machine, he was a machine, and that filled him with a sense of peace that he had never thought possible. He had found his "meaning of life"; it was as simple and pure as keeping the carpets clean.
As the five-minute mark hit, the Chronivac software began its reversion process. Bill's high-resolution sensors blurred before shifting back to his familiar, human perception. The world returned to its riot of colors and sounds, a comparative cacophony after the binary simplicity he had been experiencing moments before.
His body, obedient to the program’s command, reshaped itself from the flat disc of a Roomba back to the flesh and blood form he had always known. He felt the familiar sensation of blood rushing through his veins, the steady thump of his heart, the involuntary expansion and contraction of his lungs; all sensations he’d never realised he took for granted.
Lying on the floor, he blinked up at the ceiling, his body alive with exhilaration. Well, "aroused" might have been a more accurate term. He felt a strange satisfaction – it was as if he had just fulfilled a deeply seated fantasy he hadn't fully realized he had had.
Every detail of the transformation was emblazoned in his memory – the whir of the motors, the singular purpose of his existence as a machine. For those five minutes, he had been something other than human. A part of him ached to do it again, to lose himself in the simple objective of being a machine again.
As he laid there, his chest rising and falling, he realized that the experience was more than he could have ever hoped for. It wasn’t just an absurd daydream anymore, it was something that had truly happened.
Bill remained on the floor, his heart pounding an adrenaline-infused rhythm within his chest. His thoughts raced as wildly as his pulse, soaring past the limits of what he once thought possible. He was filled with an intoxicating mix of excitement and arousal, his mind dancing with the possibilities the Chronivac offered.
He thought back to the long list of options he’d skimmed over earlier. There were countless machines on that list, each one offering a unique perspective, a different experience.
"Could I become an old train engine?" he wondered, imagining the rumbling power and solidity that such a transformation would entail; the sheer awe of running full throttle down an open track. "Or maybe a crane," he thought, allowing his mind to delight in the image of commanding a sky-high view and showcasing immense strength.
The more abstract options drew him in as well. The idea of becoming an AI system sparked a thrill of excitement. The thought of being housed within a vast server, processing millions of operations per second, each one contributing to a colossal understanding of the world around him, was as enticing as it was terrifying.
His eyes closed as he reflected on these possibilities, each one more tantalizing than the last. He could taste the adrenaline on his tongue, sweet and sharp with anticipation. The prospect of becoming one with a machine… again… was far too powerful to resist.
"But first… Maybe I should turn into a drone," he finally thought, with a shiver of anticipation tracing down his spine. The idea of soaring above the earth, seeing the world from a bird's-eye view was incredibly enticing. Plus, the smallness, the finesse required for movement… it was a new challenge, a new perspective.
He opened his eyes, his decision made. He was eager – no, desperate – to start his next adventure.