You didn’t expect the box, with a loud beep of warning, to settle down to the ground, no longer floating. Thomas, as if having been warned, stepping back beforehand. With a snap-hiss, the top of the box opens, revealing a large cavity, padded on the inside. It looks like it would fit a human, barely, of Thomas’s size.
A quick scan actually does confirm it; it’s a tight squeeze, but that’s probably the point since the nanites are going to want maximum dermal contact. “In you go, I think.” You helpfully supply.
“You think I can fit?” He looks uncertain as he tries to maneuver himself into the small area, looking uncomfortable as he sits on the edge of the box, as if trying to figure out what to do next and how to maneuver inside.
Before you can respond, the box seems to melt a bit around him, the padded areas unfurling tendrils of something sticky and pulling at the man, drawing him inside. He has a moment to scream in surprise before the box’s top engulfs him like a mimic. In moments its over, no signs of struggle, opening, or Thomas; just a plain box. Without any ceremony it begins floating again, though pink lights appear on it and the warnings and legal disclaimers melting away, as if no longer necessary.
“Huh, that’s something.” You mutter as you try and reach out to the converter’s AI to figure out what’s happened and check on Thomas.
This time, you get a response, a sultry feminine voice greeting you as you introduce yourself. “Mmmm, hello Mari darling, it’s absolutely lovely to meet you.” She, very much a she, purrs that out, sending a shiver of data through it, designed to elicit an emotional response of lust and arousal; which, uh, works pretty damn well unless you specifically block it (which you don’t and boy is robot lust kind of weird feeling). “You can call me Joy, and I’m the helper and primer AI for this lovely converter. I imagine you had a similar helper when you were converted into your, mmmm, sleek, sensual, form?” A-Ah, well, that’s certainly something. Your face flushes a bit golden in some bashfulness.
“Y-Yes’m…” Get yourself together Mari! You’re a top of the line combat and exploration robot! Not some idiot at a bar! “I, er….I’m checking in on…”
“Tama, dear? Yes, mmm, we’re getting along” You can tell that if the AI had lips, she’d be licking them, voice purring across the data-link, “Mmmm, famously~. It’s always so,” there’s a moment of pause, as if thinking, though you swear you could hear little moans that she’s sending over, “pleasing when they’re eager for the change. I prefer it that way~. Much more pleasant for….mmm, for everyone~” There was a bit of a louder and more obvious moan in that last bit, a clear showing of data indicating that she’s experiencing a bit of bliss at this very moment. It’s something she didn’t have to broadcast to you, but she wants to let you know that in her virtual space she’s probably getting pleasured by ‘Tama’s’ psyche. TMI. TMI. TMI.
“R-Right…okay. Sure…do you have an ETA on…” you’re kind of (actually very) uncomfortable with this. It’s not like you’re against sex; you kind of wish you had the attachments and skills to provide for Mistress. But this is a bit, well, much. And you're already feeling your emotional buffers and subroutines overloading with all the stimulus she's providing.
“Ooooh, getting right to the point are we?” A laugh through the data link, “Mmmm, fine, fine, phase one will be ready” a preliminary nano-body that the converted person can walk around in, bonded to the converter AI. “in, mmmm, twenty-seven standard hours.” A moment and then a loud moan that she sent over; she didn’t need to do that, “Aaaahn, m-make that thirty