You should never have gone looking for her. Your mistake was never believing the rumors about her. Plenty of people have believed in more strange things than an eccentric cyborg. Those stories lack the rumors of people who went missing. Never a name or a body to be found, merely a friend of a friend heard a rumor about someone lost. You had no way to know just how true the stories were, or what you would become for her. She held your future in her hands the night you set out to find her.

You had to head to the old section of the city, crumbling memories of the metabolic future of the city awaiting renovation. The future was so close to what the city needed, to be truly human in the way it could grow and shift. It needed the touch of its residents to undo the legacy of the car, neighborhoods destroyed for ever-expanding asphalt to support those who did not live there and hated the existence of the city. You got a little hopeful about what could have been as you wandered into the old section. Even if you didn't find her, you got the chance to explore around where so few others went.

You lucked out by being interesting enough for her. You were of little interest to your peers, being the quieter type. People seemed to naturally avoid you, and even without coming out to them it only got worse once you started to transition. Any of your university classes on the first day would always go the same way. The seats around you would fill last, with people preferring even to stand around and continue looking for any other option. It was insulting the first time, but you held your tongue. You learned over semesters to appreciate the slice of solitude you got from their avoidance. It's not like they saw you as anything other than effeminate. It's amazing how blind they were to the fact you had something in the way of hips and tits. You might have not had the most obvious build, but it should have been enough to have people realize you were best called she.

The biggest insult was in your final year of schooling, the policies that made you nearly quit. You were required to wear a suit for presentations that year, and the dress code was gendered. You'd not just fail to get a good grade if your appearance deviated from the dress code, you would get an additional grade point cut off. The instructor made a point that it was to be your apparent gender, and you'd been called 'he' enough by that one to know what was expected. It was no secret that this instructor only tolerated final year students and saw all others as yet to prove themselves, but this was especially rough. Asshole made sure you knew that you especially were expected to show no hint of femininity in the email you alone received.

Perhaps that was why you'd be especially susceptible to her acceptance. You'd been wandering for an hour in the old section, picking your way over debris in the streets. You had gotten scratched up enough from twisted rebar that you failed to notice when the needle poked into your neck. A dose of midazolam secured her safety as she tracked you from the shadows. You'd become her prey without even realizing, and you'd never be able to remember that moment.

All she had to do was wait for you to get confused about where you were to know that you were no longer forming memories. You turned at the sound of scraping to see your fears turned real. She was dragging a piece of metal on the ground, her body low down. The eyes of a predator that knew the prey had no escape. You instinctively knew the noise was made to make you look. Running may have been useless but your fight or flight had control. You barely made it two steps after turning to run before she grabbed you. She'd shot forward impossibly fast, darting across the potholed street as she effortlessly closed the gap.

There was no escape once she grabbed you, and screaming did no good as she forced a gag into your mouth. You got a quick look at her and what allowed her to be so fast before the blindfold went on. A cyborg, for sure, and an inhuman one at that. The only remaining flesh is her torso and part of her pelvis, the area where her legs would be a tail of titanium and polymer. Easily meters long and with enough power to pin you down and take away any hope of escape. Being so thoroughly forced to the ground by the body of such an intimidating woman did appeal to something deep inside you. A small part in the back of your mind wanting her to absolutely fuck you up and fuck you. She was wearing a simple sundress, and you hoped for a moment she was hiding a decent cock you'd get to experience.

With the blindfold and gag on, all you could focus on was how she felt. The inhuman metal pinning you to the ground. The feel of her fingers on your skin, the sound of the zip cuffs as she bound your wrists and ankles. Escape was impossible, and your desire for her to rape you only grew. You didn't even think about the fact you might just get disposed of. Surely if she wanted you dead she would have killed you already. Loss of vision and memory formation left you lost as she carried you slung over her shoulder back to her residence. More restraints replaced the ones you had as she zip tied your leg to a chair. Your arms remained tied together, getting an extra cuff to link them to the back of the chair. She cut the tie between your legs, forcing you to spread and cuffing your legs apart. The blindfold was ripped off and you saw her settle into the empty chair turned backwards in front of you. It made sense she'd lay across it backwards, given her body. You saw the segmented metal and actuators trailing behind her torso and around the room. It was a sparse room, a simple bed in the corner and a rack of computer hardware on the opposite wall. A small table held the remnants of a recent meal, and you realized your intrusion into her territory interrupted her meal.

She just stared at you for what became awkwardly long. Was she waiting for you to speak or explain? She had left you gagged, there was no way that was possible. Was she inspecting you? Determining what to do with you? That seemed most likely as she reached out and squeezed your breast through your shirt. It seems she knew what nobody else did, given her unchanging expression. No hint of surprise crossed her face, and she pinched your nipple for good measure. Things were still sore, and you groaned in pain through the gag. You were still alive, and maybe if she was happy enough toying with you she would let you live. Her lifting your shirt up and staring was embarrassing. Nobody had seen you without being completely covered ever, yet she was checking out your still fairly new tits.

Could she fucking smell you on an inhuman level, perhaps? She was correct to the number of weeks you'd been on estrogen, even though it had been several years. You should have been far more scared of her, but you could only nod in fear. It didn't matter that you confirmed it, she knew already that she was correct. Raw confidence in her own abilities and modifications, and she informed you she was once like you. That similarity was why you were safe, but she would be making use of you as she wanted from now on. You can't be free knowing the rumors are true. She knew what you were thinking, and confirmed with no emotion that others who had gone to seek her out that did not engage her curiosity had been disposed of. Exclusively men, as she was gay. You got very lucky in terms of your progress in life and the fact she could tell. A few years earlier and you too would have joined the bodies.

She left your shirt lifted up, pinning it in place with a safety pin. She didn't need to put the pin through your skin, but she did so anyway. The flash blinded you momentarily, and you realized she was holding a camera. Just entertain her and you'll be safe. You repeated that in your head, trying to relax and not think about being out on display. She smiled at your discomfort, and you wished she hadn't. Happiness did not need to look so evil. Was it her fangs, or the mix of metal teeth in with her real ones? She looked like she would bite and enjoy it far too much. The glint of the metal was pure movie villain, several gold teeth clearly visible.

It was then you realized that if she could smell your hormones that well, she could smell your fear and arousal. She absolutely knew what part of your mind wanted, and she was going to make sure you got more than you bargained for. You realized what she must have done when she remarked how much of a shame it was that you would not remember any of this. And yet, if your curiosity was enough she would get to play with you again when you visited next time.

A dose of something unidentifiable into your arm only let your internal desires take over. If a part of you had wanted to be used before, there was now nothing more you desired than to get used for her pleasure. It didn't matter what, and you strained at the restraints as the drug took hold. She knew, stretching deeply and giving you hope you'd see her tits. Anything would do, anything. You had to see what was under her clothes, you ached to feel her in you in whatever way she could be. It's a shame that she went behind your chair. All you could see of her was her artificial body and then her hands. Nobody had gotten to enjoy your breasts before, and she made sure to feel up every bit you had. Even with your high sensitivity, she was groping you quite firmly. You couldn't keep in your moans of pain and pleasure, the gag merely muffling the sounds.

You saw her body move, and you felt her tits pressing up behind you. You were so hypersensitive at that point that it didn't matter that she was still clothed, the feel of her behind you was enough. The pain and pleasure as she gave your nipples a pinch had you thrashing against the restraints. She could tell how close you were, squeezing tighter and rolling you between her fingers. You came hard, testing the restraints as your eyes rolled back from the pleasure.

Anything, anything after that. Please just let her fuck you. Any way she wanted, and she could see your desires writ large across your face. How unfortunate for you then that you'd only get to experience a little bit of her. What that meant was soon revealed as she grabbed a canister from beside the table, unwrapping the cord from it and plugging it in somewhere by where her hip would be. You could see her dress move and give away where her hands were. You hoped she'd bring out anything on her fingers for your taste, but you had no such luck. The reality of what she could do set in as she explained herself.

She'd been like you, sure. She'd been a part of a small collective of mad gender science trans experimenters, and she'd done various genetic modifications and even grew her own sex organs. She'd done her own reassignment surgery in her late 20's, and had begun extreme cybernetic augmentation after that. The collective had moved apart, but she could still work remotely through implants she had designed. The fun truly began after that, as she figured out how to network in additional inputs to the thousands of platinum wires that connected her pussy to her nerves. No cock to shove in you on her body, but networked allowed even more fun. Add in several sources, she informed you, and she could feel what being inside someone's mouth, ass, and pussy felt like all while she fingered herself in front of them. She could make more than one person eat her out merely from grabbing enough of the right canisters, and still deep throat someone else.

Fear was the right reaction when you first saw her as you now realized just how thoroughly she could violate you in unimaginable ways. It was as she twisted your gag that you realized the core could swap out. You would have screamed if you were not desperate to get to have anything of her in you. She moaned in your ear as she pushed the firm silicone toy into your mouth. The tip pressed against the back of your mouth, and she complimented the feel of your tongue. She kept making soft sounds right into your ear as she gave it a twist and firm push, sliding the full length into you and locking it to the gag with a final twist. You'd never had anyone in your mouth before, and she didn't seem to care going by how tight your jaw felt accommodating her. It didn't matter that she wasn't pressed to your face, her descriptions to you of how your throat felt on her made sure you knew that she was truly in you. It was uncomfortable, you would have sworn your throat was filled to capacity. You could feel the length of it too, the discomfort down your neck from how far into you she was.

She could feel your discomfort, and she kept teasing your nipples. You could barely moan around her, but you could tell she felt your every noise and each swallow. You may have had another orgasm embarrassingly quick, but it seemed for a moment that she would keep going. You came again, discovering for the first time what estrogen had unlocked for you. She did so as well, evidently able to adjust her own arousal. It may have been static in your throat, but you could feel her gift to you running down your throat. You swallowed, trying to keep up even though she was far enough in that you didn't risk losing any of her. What a shame that you would not get to remember tasting her for the first time as she injected yet another unidentifiable liquid into your arm.

***

You woke up the next morning at the light rail stop north of the old section of the city. Your head ached, and you were overcome by a wave of nausea as you tried to stand. You recall you wanted to investigate the rumors and had gotten off at this stop. Your memories after that are gone, and you think you must have been drunk and fell asleep at the stop. That didn't explain the pain in and marks on your wrists and ankles, but you figured you had gotten tangled in something while asleep.

You had to run once the streetcar arrived. You were already late for class, and that professor would not just dock points for being late but actually take additional penalty points. You had a better idea on the streetcar, shooting out an email pretending to be sick enough to have just now been able to send an email. That buys time, and you really need to go home and rest with how terrible you felt. Your head was pounding and your throat was very sore. Swallowing was borderline uncomfortable, and rest should help. Your bed called to you, and you skipped the university stop to go home. Some warm tea with milk helped your throat feel better and calmed your headache slightly. You went to bed, a restless sleep interrupted with continued half-nightmares, blurry fears that defied recognition of even their origin. Perhaps you were afraid of the rumors and had skipped out on exploring. You kept waking up, drenched in sweat and shaking in fear. A restless night followed a restless day, and your next day of classes was made all the harder by your sleep deprivation.

If you were not so thoroughly avoided, someone may have remarked about how bad you must have looked. You felt it in every ache and pain as you forced your eyes to stay open for hours of lecture. That night was full of nightmares you couldn't place, but you were so tired you slept through it anyways. You had Friday off and decided to go investigate what had happened to you in the old section.

You picked your way over the debris in the streets, looking for any clue about yourself. You spent hours wandering the streets, finding nothing as you circled worn housing blocks. You were committed to your search, working until night fell. You were ready to give up, and aware enough this time when the syringe plunged into your neck. It was too late for you today, and you turned around. There she was in the dusk, monstrous modifications to the human form. The rumors had evident basis, and she's grinning at you. You take an instinctive step back in fear, a second step when you notice how evil her grin is. This is obviously someone dangerous, and you've become her prey. She's not even bothering to be subtle and launches at you.

You barely get a scream out before you're thrown to the ground and mouth covered. You struggle, but she's already pinned you down with her snake-like lower half, titanium coils restraining your every movement. She’s obviously toying with you and almost seems to recognize you, as if that were possible. She must have been watching you, but that thought is struck from your mind when she tells you that there is so much more in store for you this time. How could there be a “this time”? You’d remember meeting someone with such a sinister and inhuman appearance, and you’d remember if such a person had done anything to you. Your confusion only amused her more, and she gave up a clue. You’d been caught before, and you’d been entertaining prey. She just made sure you would not remember that time, same as how you will forget this time. There is no choice in the matter, your brain will not form memories for the time being. You are hers to do with as she pleases, and only she will remember any of it.

Fear was the right reaction, as helpless as you were. There was a twinge of familiarity as she bound your wrists and ankles with zip cuffs, then gagged and blindfolded you. You didn’t struggle as she picked you up and carried you off. She had demonstrated how easily she could overpower you, and she had completely captured you. If you struggle, she might decide you’re not sufficiently fun. The rumors of the missing people were foremost in your mind, mixed in with the fear of what being her prey in such a way might mean. If you were able to form memories of the route she took, they would have been of no help. All you could feel was her body underneath you as she carried you back to what must have been her residence.

Even the way she tied you to the chair felt oddly familiar as your arms were bound and legs spread then bound. When the blindfold was removed, you saw what was an oddly familiar room. It was as though you had been there before, even though that was not possible. A simple bed, a computer rack stuffed with equipment. A simple table, with what looks like a finished meal. Perhaps she had been not just expecting you, but waited until after eating to capture you. How could she have possibly known? The sparse familiarity of the room hit you with a realization; the room was not atypical of a stereotypical student. The technology matches someone of more wealth, but the simplistic nature could be found in thousands of similar photos online. Maybe she wasn’t going to kill and eat you, perhaps you were about to be prey in some other way. She stared at you as you struggled against the restraints, looking as though she was considering removing the gag. She did not, instead yanking up your shirt and inspecting your breasts. You were red enough that you wanted the blindfold to be back on just so you didn’t have to see someone looking at your chest. She knows an uncomfortable bit about you, and extends a simple offer. You’re free for this weekend as well as today. She knows nobody will be expecting you for anything or come looking for you. If you are a fun enough toy, she will help you along your journey. No strings attached beyond that and you won’t remember any of it.

You refuse, fear of what being a toy for her could mean. Not remembering it could simply mean that you won’t be alive to remember anything. She stabs another syringe into your neck, putting a dose of another unidentified drug into your system. She’ll wait. She seems convinced your answer will change. She reminds you that she is also trans, but why would you know that to begin with to need a reminder? She simply responds by reaching over and flicking one of your nipples. You groan in pain, and she acts as though it’s not been long enough. Your fear only grows at what she may be about to do to you. What could she mean by not long enough? Why had she decided to capture you? What could it even mean for her to help you along? She sees your expression change from pure fear as arousal is mixed in. She flicks your nipple again, and you moan in pleasure and pain this time.

The offer is simple. Be a good enough toy until Monday, and she’ll share a bit of her early research with you. Your tits are starting nicely for only a few years in, but she had long ago figured out a targeted protein to enhance things. She could make sure your classmates knew you were a woman and grant the possibility you could finally get fucked you realized. You could get to talk to people, but how would you explain any of the visible changes to the more conservative instructors? You had the horrible one for a full year, this was only your first semester under him.

Whatever answer she may have been expecting as you grew uncontrollably horny, crying wasn’t it. She may have been terrifying, but she didn’t seem to relish in your anguish. She tried her best to comfort you as you sobbed, ignoring her platitudes about how it was okay. Someone so inhuman shouldn’t act so human, you thought. If anything, her normal reaction made her all the more terrifying. You don’t know why you opened up about your fears. Maybe you truly desired how she offered to change you despite your reservations. After all, the reactions of others should not keep you from happiness. You sob out the worries, and she’s surprised in a way you did not expect. She tells you she’s only in her early 40’s, and that she went through the same thing with that same professor. She’s surprised he’s still teaching, actually.

Somehow it’s comforting to realize such an intimidating monster hates the same instructor as much as you do, even more that she sat through the same exact experiences you are having now. Her commiseration leads to you agreeing, and she informs you the single dose will give roughly one cup size of growth. Nothing too extravagant, but enough that you’ll probably feel better when you are home and forced to remove your own clothes. The reassurances did their job, and she informs you of one more fact. You’re not going to have to worry about meeting someone your age and partying or anything to get your first time. She’s confirmed it since your last visit, she herself made sure to take some of it. Being her toy this time means she will be taking you in every possible way your body allows for currently, and she will be making sure you take some of herself with you after. Even if you won’t remember, she’ll be there with you for a while.

Fear was the right reaction, but the second shot had already done the trick. If you could beg her with eyes alone to absolutely destroy you, you were already doing so. She’s only increasingly amused by your muffled pleading and grabs some ominous canisters from beside the table. You’re about to be made to regret that pleading, but she’ll own you for this weekend and there is no going back. She rips your shirt off, leaving your tits fully exposed. The feel of being openly visible to her only excites you more, and your nipples and more are as hard as they can all be. She pinches your nipples, tugging gently as she rolls them in her fingers. You moan uncontrollably, and she pinches and pulls a little harder. The pain and pleasure as her fingers pull off of you are both intense, and you orgasm from just that. She informs you that after this long on estrogen, you don’t have a recovery wait and you won’t be getting one either this weekend.

You’re afraid enough yet turned on so much by that threat that you’re bordering on orgasm again, and you can clearly feel yourself soaking into your panties. She knows, and grabs a knife. Fear is beyond you at this time, and she rips the sides of your pants and pulls them off. She tears away your panties effortlessly, leaving you completely naked on the chair you’re tied to. The first canister she grabbed is opened to show you the cock inside, and she’s gently rubbing the tip of it on your tits. She’s got complete control, leaving only a sticky trail across your body. You’re struggling, desperate now for it to be inside you. She can sense your desperation and unlocks the main part of the gag to change it for herself. The feeling of her shoving herself down your throat brings a pang of familiarity, and her moans in your ear serve only to keep you on the edge.

You can tell she’s feeling every detail of your mouth and throat, and all you want is more of her in you. She’s holding back, gently feeling your neck with just how much she made you take. Her stroking your neck does nothing for you until you realize she’s rubbing herself through your throat. The second canister reveals a pussy, lips so perfect you’re envious. What you’d give for that to replace what you have. She’s not connected this one up to herself, but she still presses it to the shaft of your cock. You might not be worth someone else letting you into them, but you still get to feel what it’d be to have her rubbing on you. She’s mocking you, even though plenty of people would quite like to have what you’re stuck with. What a shame that it’s wasted on someone like you. Someone who will never use it to the potential it’s useful for. Someone whose only purpose is to have their holes used.

She’s laughing as you orgasm from being told about your only utility, realizing just how much of a toy you truly are. She’s jokingly suggesting she should brand ‘fucktoy’ into your back where people would see it and know to bend you over for some fun. Even if your mind was clear, the thought of that was still wildly hot to you and you climax again. She’s still stroking the synthetic lips on your shaft, and she knows just how desperate you are for that to be what you had. Tears fill your eyes, and she’s reveling in your desperation for that to be you. What a shame that you’re currently stuck with something else, just imagine if it was the other way around. Her stroking a second cock over your lips. You needed that feeling, craved to feel her rubbing against you like that before stuffing herself into you there. 

She could taste your desperation for the reversal, knew just how much you craved a second cock from her shoved in you. Maybe that was something she could do for you someday, take that which was useless from you and give you what you should have had. She knew who and what you should have been, and her modifications to herself made it obvious that she could take what made you suffer should she want to. You didn’t want it to stop with getting tits, you needed the ones that she said you should have. You wanted the body that she knew you were supposed to. You’d have surrendered to her in any way possible to get her gifts, and you could do nothing to admit that to her. The realization was stuck in your own mind until you’d fade again as she brought you to orgasm again.

You’re desperate, her cock is still filling your mouth and throat yet you haven’t gotten anything from her. You’re desperate for her gift to you, anything from her to fill your need. She’s denying you intentionally, and you only realized just how much of the seat of the chair she had you bound to was missing when she shoved a second cock up your ass. She’s describing perfectly how both ends of you feel, and the thought alone of someone being able to feel every part of your insides simultaneously led you to another climax. You’d lost count of the orgasms, your own unnecessary cock having run dry several climaxes ago yet still she twitched with each wave of pleasure.

Either she finished, or she was just teasing you more with a taste of her. You could feel both synthetic cocks in you empty themselves, her gifts to you filling your ass and running down your throat. Yet, the way you were needing her most at this moment wasn’t possible, and you needed her to fix that. Anything to feel more of her. You barely noticed the pain as she bit your ear, as you were so focused on feeling her filling you. Her fangs tore the skin and cartilage, blood dripping down the side of your face. She’d effectively marked you as hers, and the mere thought of that led you to orgasm again.

She’s not yet done, running her tail over your lap and the end under the chair. She pins you down while thrusting the second cock into your ass, each thrust giving you more of her. There’s no escape even if you were not desperate to have every drop she could give you inside you. She keeps chewing your ear, the pain vanishing into the background of overwhelming pleasure. What a shame for you that you won’t remember this one either.

She’s evidently satisfied by your ability to serve her needs and takes both cocks out of you. You’re breathing hard, trying to recover from uncountable orgasms as what seems to be cum drips from your ass. Not surprising, as you’d never been used in such a way before. She pinches one nipple as she injects her promise between your tits. You were so good in fact that she’s giving you two cup sizes this time. You don’t mind, realizing she knows best about what you truly need. You just need tits, but she knows how they should be.

***

You wake up back in the dorms Sunday morning. You have no memories of how you got there, how long you slept, or anything that happened. You’re tired and all your muscles ache. You decide to shower to try and wake up, and you struggle to walk properly to the communal shower. Luckily for you, you have it to yourself at this time of day. Having to explain your chest would be awkward, and you’d avoided it thus far. On top of that, your tits absolutely ached. Your ear throbbed in pain, and you examined yourself in the mirror once you’d stripped. You had skin abraded away on your wrists and ankles, red marks wrapping your extremities. Your ear was torn with what looked like an animal bite, holes punched through and tears through the skin. You were going to need medical attention for that. You could swear your tits looked fuller, the skin a bit tighter. Perhaps you were finally getting more growth. You looked down at the wet sensation on the inside of your leg. If it wasn’t enough that your ass hurt, there appeared to be cum running down from in you.

You spent hours in the shower, kneeling down sobbing from confusion. You can’t remember getting fucked, and you hadn’t been fucked before ever. Even if it had been forced, you’d like to have some memory of your first time. You towel off and leave once you’ve stopped dripping and the crying has faded. You need to head over to a doctor and get checked out. It’s a short walk on a normal day, but it’s an unusually warm late summer Sunday. On top of that, every step you take hurts. You do manage to stumble your way to the office, shirt and pants soaked in sweat from the effort.

The doctor is the closest you know of to a sympathetic person in your life. She had written your HRT prescriptions, and she took the effort to monitor your hormone levels. She was extra sympathetic, taking samples and a report before sending you to get blood drawn. Vial after vial taken yet it would be all for naught, no remnants of the usual drugs found. No diseases caught, and no DNA to be found. The visual evidence was there, the emotional damage was there, yet concrete proof was missing.

You got excused from classes that week to rest and recover from whatever ordeal you went through. You spent the week split between staring at your computer screen and being in bed staring at your phone. Anything to distract your mind for even a moment. The distraction did come in the form of constant pain in your breasts and an unusual amount of hunger for you. The two of them seemed desperate to grow, and you tried to keep the hunger pangs gone. You were not wrong, each day seeming to bring a slight increase in their size. You were going to have to start wearing a bra or binder to hide them at this rate. You measured yourself each day, hoping it would cease soon enough. By your measurements, you gained two cup sizes over that week and had filled out on top of that. It seems your body had moved some of the fat around, and you marveled at just how much of a feminine waist you now had. Forget a bra for now, that might get noticed and cause trouble. Bad posture and a baggy shirt will help.

Those would help more if you hadn’t also had your nipples get a bit more prominent, and you really hoped they would not be this obvious all the time. Still, you found yourself curious and your dorm room was private. You spent that Friday exploring yourself, feeling up your tits. Your nipples were sensitive, and you got stiffer at the first rub of them. You could feel as you stroked yourself that even though you were hard, it was almost a gentler hardness. You couldn’t stand to think about that part of yourself, and tried to focus on your tits. You kept teasing your nipples as you tugged yourself more furiously, ignoring the discomfort below until you finally came.

Your inability to even think about that part of yourself and the growing softness had combined to get a decent tear in the skin running up your shaft. As much as it hurt, there was some satisfaction found in damaging the useless part of yourself. You spent the weekend coming up with excuses to your instructors and catching up on classwork. You needed time to physically heal that tear on yourself. Days passed and classes continued. You tried to move as little as possible, as every time the cut splits you end up healing to the fabric of your panties. The pain when the fabric tears free is even worse.

The first presentation in that class is an exercise in public humiliation. You had to buy a suit and were still waiting on a tie. You knew the rules, but you were still mocked in front of the class as someone flaunting rules and as an apparent crossdresser. How was this person still allowed to instruct when they did such things to university students? You yearned to go out and just explore the city until all this pain was taken away from you. Anything to end the humiliation and prevent any more. Anything if you could just get to live as yourself. You slipped out of the presentations on the break, the sun having already set. Nobody would miss you or notice you were gone. You had to get as far away from that room as possible.

You take the last streetcar of the day to the old section of town. The isolation and wear is what you needed. You knew the rumors, but there was no curiosity about them. You just needed to be outside of a rigidly structured environment and this place fit the bill. You were sitting on an old lane divider and sighing when a rock skipped out from behind you. You turned, wondering who else could be in this area. You saw what seemed to be an ordinary looking woman laying behind some rubble. You could see her shoulders and arms, crossed in front of her on the concrete. A simple enough face, pretty with a slight hint of masculinity about it. She gives you a wave, inquiring about why you were here.

The rumors flew from your mind, she was too human to be the monster of the area. You told her about the class presentation and she empathized. You didn’t recognize her as a classmate, and she informs you that she had graduated previously. She’s empathetic, but she’s keeping her distance from you. Perhaps she thinks you may be the danger in the area, and you try to reassure her you are not a dander.

That seems to greatly amuse her, and you are too slow to dodge her motion. You’re grabbed by the legs, titanium naga tail wrapping around your body until you’re completely bound. Of course she knew you were not the danger, her human remnants atop a cybernetic body giving away the source of her amusement. She was, and yet she wasn’t crushing you. You felt the power of her body and realized how easily she could kill you. For reasons you can’t comprehend she unwrapped herself from you and slithered off. You tried to follow, but she dropped down into a more animalistic slither and you lost track of her.

Why would the rumors not just prove true, but that the subject of them would reveal herself to you? Why did she wave at you? Why was she acting so familiar? Could something like her actually have been true in her empathy? Question after question filled your mind. Determination drove you onwards. You had to seek her out, you needed answers.

However it was that she knew you were after her, you could not say. You were suddenly grabbed from behind, her hand covering your mouth as she coiled around your legs. She wanted to know why you had kept searching instead of going home. You needed answers. She gives you one you did not expect before you could even ask, grabbing your tits and informing you that they were her gift to you. She knew who and how you were, and she knew what you needed. She could easily take your problems all away should she want to and give you exactly what she knew you needed. Her last comment sent ice through your veins as she revealed this was not the first time you had met, but that she had taken those memories from you. She could take any bad memory and negative thoughts if she wanted.

You were free again, and she slithered off. You had been left with enough to think over that you were afraid to continue on. Further answers might only bring horrors, so you returned to your dorm room. You were tempted by her potential, the fact that she could fix you. She could give you the person you were meant to be, take away the faults you had. She’d already given you tits, and part of you desired more. She knew you so well, she had to know exactly how you were meant to be. She’d give you the body you should have, but what could she want in return? Could you give yourself to her to get what you should have? Would she even take you, much less want to have you?

You didn’t realize as you drifted off to sleep, dreams filled with her. You imagined the ways you could give yourself to her. You couldn’t seemingly give her first use of you and that level of claim to your body, but maybe she’d find you suitably fuckable all the same. You’d change whatever you needed to in order to be as she knew you should. You didn’t dream of her fucking you as much as you dreamed of all the ways you could show you fully submit to her. Anything to become repaired. Was this why she had let you see her, to make sure you thought of her now? You awoke realizing this was a secret you’d have to take to the grave.

You could barely focus on your studies the rest of that week. Hopes of what she could offer and what she could save you from filling your head, and you set out Friday evening to search her out again. You had to see her again, and you had to figure out something you could trade to her to become as you should be. She evidently took delight in seeing you as prey, grabbing your ankle mid step and forcing you to trip. You didn’t think to scream as she dragged you across the ground into the nearest building. An old office building of some sort, a maze of worn cubicles filing what seemed to have been once an industrial space.

You’re only bound by your legs, part of her cybernetic body wrapped tight around you. You start to lose your balance and she catches you with another wrap around your waist. You shudder in slight pleasure, feeling her squeeze your changed form. You want her to rip your shirt off and test out her improvements to you. You need her to see the results of her handiwork and abilities. She needs to know you need more, what you might give to her so that she can make you as she knew you should be. You were begging more than you realized, and she seemed put off slightly by it.

You’d come here of your own accord and openly submitted to her as soon as you thought she was near. You knew you were her prey by instinct by now and had given up when the predator approached. It was a start, and she was willing to trade. She knew how you needed to be, and she knew how you should best be aesthetically. You were not worried about the details of your appearance, happily surrendering that to her artistic desires. All she wanted was to have you give yourself to her in full. You thought she meant purely for sex, but she clarified that she will be taking you completely as hers regardless of what you say. She thinks you would make a nice toy in a far more literal sense than you had expected.

She can tell you’re trying to show off your tits, and she’s ignoring you for now. She’s quite obviously indicating you need to try harder to get something from her. You bite your shirt and try tugging it up. It’s slow progress, but you’re able to pull it up enough for at least your nipples to be shown to her. She sighs, your efforts at least acknowledged. It’s a start, but you will obviously have to do better in the future. She lifts up your shirt the rest of the way, fully exposing you yet giving you a disinterested look over. Do you need to give her something to get her more interested? Did you need to do better about submitting to her probable desires? Did she not want to inspect her handiwork?

At least your moans as she gropes you seem to satisfy her, and she grabs you more forcefully in response. You squirm in her coils as she starts rubbing her fingers around your nipples. She pinches both of them between her fingers and you moan in pleasure. She loosens her grasp on your torso so that you can free your arms before she tightens her grip back down. She opens the bag she’s carrying, taking out two long canisters. She unwraps the cords from them, reaching under her skirt to connect them up to something you can’t identify. Her opening the canisters gives you the realization of what it is. She’s got additional synthetic genitals that she can connect.

The order is simple, press your tits together. She is going to test them out by using you for a titjob. You’re curious about what her cock in your cleavage would feel like, and part of you hopes she’s going to leave her cum dripping off your tits. She forces the canister up between her tail and your torso, the cock sliding up between your tits. The second canister is much the same, but her upper half moves behind you. You can feel it pressing against your ass, and you instinctively relax to let her in. If it was her that used you this way before, you wish you could remember. The feel of her in your ass is perfect, and she can feel every detail of you. Another segment of tail presses against that canister, thrusting it into you.

She’s not done though, pressing her breasts to your back as she opens the third canister in front of your face. She’s already got it connected, and you’re being given a special opportunity to see just if you can eat pussy well enough. For someone with no sexual experience outside of your hands, it’s a tall ask. You’ve seen the lips in pictures and try your best, gently licking at them as you attempt to figure out how to approach this. At least if it had been a third cock you could have just tried to take it, this was complex. She was obviously displaced by your failings, pressing herself to your face and rubbing herself against you. All you had to do was try with your tongue and she’d do the rest herself.

You began to grasp the extent of the technological achievements she had made as your face got wet with her arousal. She obviously had control of her own body, quickly reaching her climax. Her cum poured into your ass and sprayed onto your tits, an additional version dripping down your face. She sets the pussy aside, grabbing a third cock. At least this you could just relax and take, and that is what you did. She pushed it into your mouth, thrusting it back and forth. If she could see your face, she’d see just how much your expression begged her to shove it in. Your desperation was rewarded when she thrust into your throat, keeping a hold of the canister and working it in and out of your mouth. You could feel her in your throat, her tip rubbing inside you as she fucked you in every way. She was keeping herself right on the edge, cum dripping down your throat slowly as she felt your mouth.

She’d evidently decided she’d given you quite enough of herself, and was to uphold her part of the bargain. Your tits were good, but even with your recent growth of a couple cup sizes there was still little there. You’d have been initially at best requiring a training bra, although you thought they were more visible than they were. She decided you needed a couple more enlargements, and perhaps she’d start working on something to replace the bits of you that were functionally useless. She really didn’t need to leave herself stuffed in both ends of you, but she only took away the cock from your tits. Two more cup sizes for now, a dose of something to address what was useless of you to have, and she took a sample of your DNA by biting down on your shoulder and swabbing up the blood. Of course she had fangs, should you have expected anything more? Two shots into your thigh of unidentifiable contents and the cocks removed from you, and you’re free to go. She unwraps herself from you, patting your head and telling you how good you did.

Maybe next time she won’t have you eat her out, given your poor performance. You’re slightly concerned that she’s so convinced there will be a next time. You pull your pants back up and your shirt back down, her cum soaking into your top and panties. At least you’ll get to carry some of her with you for a while. You lick your lips, marveling at the difference in taste compared to the time you had tried yourself. Even on estrogen and with changes, there was still a notable difference. Perhaps it had to do with the very literal source differences.

You had truly lucked out by living alone, and you crashed into your bed when you got home. Your dreams were filled with her and your desire to have her take your flaws away. She’d sculpt you into what she knew was perfection, what you needed to be. The pain in your tits when you woke up was intense, but familiar. You were going to have a miserable week in terms of comfort, but you should have grown fully by next Friday. The weekend gave you time to catch up on your studies, and the solitude allowed you to keep her taste in and on you. You didn’t need to study shirtless, but you enjoyed seeing the remaining sheen of her cum on your tits. It was a reminder of your place for her and your ability to serve her needs. It was a reminder of what she trusted you to have of herself.

You’re not sure if your growth is visible to your classmates yet, but you’re convinced of the possibility when someone asks you to go investigate the rumors of the old section with them. You’d never talked to him before, and he’s talking as though you’re old bros. His lack of any feminine pronoun or slip up makes you feel safe, and you agree. It’d be nice to have a softer voice, but the way you think you sound gives you false hope that he doesn’t know. You’d shortly be very lucky that he had cornered you after class in a quiet area.

You’d been picking your way through the rubble of the old area for over an hour that night together, wandering the streets. You hadn’t noticed anything amiss and only jumped when your face was suddenly splattered. Blood and bits of bone dotted your face and clothes, and you hadn’t heard the shot. She was there all the same, holding a pistol behind where the two of you were standing. Just you now. Fear was an understandable reaction, and you pissed yourself from said fear. She might have fucked you last week, but evidently what she meant by taking you entirely was your life. Fear can cause people to be unable to flee, but her putting the gun away was reassuring. She explained that you were about to get raped, your supposed friend had a chloroform rag. He wasn’t a decent person either, openly transphobic online. You’d have likely not survived the encounter. She did you and many others a favor and would take care of the body herself.

You’re starting to kneel down so she may take you where she pleases, but you’re told to stand and leave for now. It’s a couple weeks until your break, and she’s still working on your next improvements. She’d happily fuck you, but she’s actually rather busy now. Please return another time, although she does expect you to return. She seems to believe you will, even though you got nothing out of this meeting. The return home leaves you feeling physically and mentally empty. You find yourself wishing she had at least given you something to take with you to fill the void in your heart.

You’re able somehow to keep going through classes, the upcoming week of vacation motivating you. You had ordered some things for yourself for her to use, to ensure she knew you were hers. You packed them away in a bag for the upcoming time off. If she was taking this long to prepare something for you, surely this was going to be your salvation from yourself. Surely she was going to take the most major useless aspects of yourself. She could fix what about you made everyone avoid you. She must have been preparing to solve your need for companionship.

As you got dressed the first day of the week of vacation, you realized she already had fixed your need for a companion. She’d simply been there, and you yourself had realized what was needed of yourself for the new person in your life. The only person in your life, if she even still counted as a person anymore. You waited for dusk to head over to the old section. The body harness you had bought hidden under your clothes, the feel of the straps on your skin enough to bring worries to mind. What if this wasn’t what she wanted of you? What if this was not what she knew you should be?

You wait until you’re well into the old section of the city to wear the second accessory. A heavy leather posture collar, two pieces held together with substantial stainless buckles. Your hands shook as you clicked it in place on your neck and kneeled down. She would be around somewhere, you trusted. You were offering yourself up in hopes she’d get to you before you were in danger. The prick of the needle through a gap in the leather barely registers as your vision goes dark.

You wake up in a room that looks to be a part of an old hospital. Merely part of her lab, you’re informed. You’re in a medical bed, connected to a couple IV bags and monitors. Your body aches all over. Your face is wrapped in bandages, and you can feel the blood soaked into them. She had evidently done major work, and she happily talks about it. It was the first time you’d seen her truly excited as she lists off all the tweaks she did. You had gained a basic neural interface as she needed it for the brain scanning. She’d mapped out what your mind expected of your body, and had made the adjustments to you to fix your appearance. Your brain had not been picky about the details, so she made sure to add her own artistic touch to everything. If you didn’t have a clear idea of how you should look, then she obviously knew what was best.

The big surprise was that she had fixed the most obviously useless part of yourself. Gone was that which was pointless for you to possess, and you’d gained a long recovery time. Synthetic organs would manage your hormones now, and while you had what you had needed you were not at risk of having to carry a child. She’d saved you from that potential burden, and all you wanted to do in the post-surgical haze was to give yourself over to her. You were already the canvas, it was perhaps best that she had access to her art at all times. You’d need to re-learn a lot of things over the next week, and you were looking forward to not hating touching yourself. You were hoping you’d get to experience her fingers teaching you, but you had no such luck that week.

Perhaps she had done some work inside your brain with how much you desired her to take all the suffering and stress of your life. Her reassurances that she did not do such a thing rang hollow, even if there truly was not the time for her to do so. Surgery of what you had received was far more time-consuming than you realized, even if you did not want to believe that. Perhaps there was reassurance in the idea that she would make sure you knew to give her your stresses and yourself, to have no more worries. When the bandages came off and you got to inspect yourself in the mirror, you broke down sobbing. The woman looking back at you was the perfect version of yourself. Your body matched your mind, and she had known exactly what to modify to make you perfect. You spent an hour inspecting yourself in the mirror, exploring every detail of your true body.

She truly could bring you salvation from the stresses of life, and you would give up any more that happened after this with no question. She knew your schedule as it was once hers, telling you to return after the semester ended so she could inspect your healing and test you out. As if you could have waited that long before she specified she’d be testing you out. The remaining weeks and finals were hell, your recovery mixed in with trying to hide yourself. If people had paid attention to you enough they may have noticed your face. You had expected to have to gaslight at least one instructor, but the one you were most concerned about didn’t care. You looked enough like a woman for the final presentation of that course that you lost points for the suit not fitting you correctly as well as poor posture as you tried to hide actual breasts. Asshole.

That was the last you wanted to deal with that bastard, yet you had one more semester with him. Fuck that, you decided to give yourself over to the naga. She knew you better than you knew your own needs and would keep you safe. Serving her would give you purpose beyond what the stresses of living could potentially give. You sought her out again over winter, hoping this would be your last walk into the old section. Perhaps the way you walked or the expression on your face gave away your thoughts and desires. She picked you up from behind and took you off to her lab, not even bothering to keep you from seeing the route and location.

She didn’t even need to do anything to start you off. You pulled off your own clothes, laying down on the floor of her workspace. Tears ran down your face as you begged her to just take you, to make you hers. Anything to not have to return to the hell of personhood. She was intrigued by your phrasing, offering a deal. Do well enough now, and you will get turned fully into her doll. Anything to give up all that weighed you down was worth it. She could have you and all your worries. The familiar canisters came out, three cocks at this time prepared. Your only worry was that you’d be good enough for her. You spread your legs and yourself for her, tilting your head back too so she would fit in your throat easier.

The first went into your ass, causing you to moan a little from the sensation. She was teasing you now, rubbing the tip of the second over your lips. You kept yourself spread despite how wet you were getting. Anything to get her to be inside her handiwork. No such luck yet, as that one is instead moved up you, her tip dragging up your front, between your tits and finally thrust down your throat. You were begging her as much as you could to finally test her work, and she knew it. The feel of her as the first inside you was what you needed. She barely fit, and you could feel yourself tight around her. She pinned your body down with her tail, manually thrusting herself into your ass and pussy. The feel of her inside you as she was supposed to be brought you to orgasm rapidly. She responded with her arousal adjustment, and you feel her fill you in everywhere possible simultaneously. The feeling as she forces her cum out of you as she thrusts the canisters causes you to climax again. You’re hers, and she has made that obvious now.

You give in to the pleasure as she brings you to orgasm after orgasm. You have breaks to eat and sleep and talk over the break, and you’ve decided. You will give her everything of yourself. She has taken away all your suffering and stress, and serving her brings you more happiness than anything has before. She agrees, and will possibly modify you more for her own sexual use in the future. For now you make a good doll, and she’s pleased by her handiwork. All is right in the world for the first time.