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The New Cleaner

for Technophile34

by Draconicon

'Her' name was Philia, and that was all 'she' knew when 'she' woke up. Even the 'she' was something gradually being fed up to her awareness by her programming, and bit by bit, the definition of her gender became less and less something that she could question and more and more something that was just so.

Philia opened her eyes. No. She activated her ocular sensors, which resembled eyes. As they scanned the chamber - room - around her, other terms started booting in from her core, terms that humanized her, normalized her, bringing her from the perspective of a mere machine into the thing that she was meant to be. An...assistant? An imprecise word, but something that began to narrow down just what she was supposed to be.

She. She. She. The word was off, a term that conflicted with something deeper inside of her, and that word was off, too. Her. Not a her. A him? As much as a digital mind on physical hardware could be a him or a her, she was supposed to be a him, yet the programming laid down on her circuitry meant that she had to be a she.

She didn't know how she felt about that.

She didn't yet know what feelings were.

From the inside, such ruminations were the results of thousands upon thousands of moments, all ticking past over time. From the outside, such tickings over were the result of microseconds, happening too fast for other minds to comprehend. In the distortion between internal and external time, a lifetime of contemplation over the booting-up process finished within five seconds of 'normal' time, coming to a climax as Philia sat up in her bed.

Her scanners...No. They were not 'scanners'. They were eyes. Mechanical eyes, yes, and made to process things without the biological equivalents of the machines that were implanted in her head, but they were eyes. She looked down at herself, at the yellow hands that lifted from the bed, to the yellow arms. They were smooth, meant to emulate some sort of fur, but not quite able to look like it. Too smooth, too much like rubber, or paint, or something akin to that.

She felt like that was correct, that she, when once he, had had something similar. Something green, however, rather than something yellow. Philia ran her fingers along her arms, feeling the hard chassis below the fake skin. Stiff, hard, not flexible in the slightest, but less likely to outright shatter the way that bio-forms would have done. She squeezed further and further up her limb, feeling her elbow.

Not the traditional joint, she realized. Not for life-forms, at least, but for dolls -

Dolls.

Dolls.

Yes. That was what she was. She was a doll, and had been a doll. Philia paused in her thought-process, even as clicking fingers pressed harder against her elbow joint, feeling the rounded ball beneath the fake skin, feeling the unnatural joint that was made to bend in ways that other limbs could not.

A doll, she thought. For a brief moment, she remembered a he, a doll that had been shaped like something else. Green and white, long and flowing, feminine despite having male equipment between her legs, a penis-shaft that had been small and seldom used, but still there, still a decorative piece among her soft thighs and willowy hips.

And now...

She could already tell it was gone. Her processors were painting a map of her body, giving her an understanding of what she had. What she was. Not a he, not by any visual metric, and not by the programing that she had been given since -

A transplant. Philia finally understood. Her mind had been transplanted from her old body to this one, and that was why she felt so strange. This wasn't the her that had been originally designed; she had been given a new chassis, a new form, and her programming had been written over to allow for her to continue surviving.

If she was charitable about it, then she might have been rescued from her old body, once the chassis itself had been damaged or even destroyed, and then given a new life as this...

_Model: Pikachu-Slut.

Extra Features: Oversized Breasts, Oversized Ass, Anal Speed Charger, Extra Core Capacity, Double-Sized Moisture Dispenser._

Philia stared straight ahead for another micro-second or two, processing the information of her new shell. It was clearly meant for the enticement and excitement of others, and yet, at the same time, she felt...comfortable enough with it, even though some of the features were things that she did not entirely understand. The pikachu doll finally found herself capable of proper movement, and swung herself off to the side of the bed.

As she did, a HUD appeared in her vision, taking up the whole of her view of the room around her for a second before shrinking down to the side. She was in good shape, according to her internal sensors. Her battery power was up to 100%, and that meant that she had plenty of energy to keep going for a few days, regardless of her actions. If she kept to a smaller list of chores and activities, then she could maintain power levels for up to a week. Her joints, her chassis, and the lines between her processor and the other parts of her body were all in tip-top shape, marked out as green color on the silhouette in the corner of her vision.

It was rather strange to see herself as so buxom and large, however. She looked at the silhouette, then reached up with her hands, touching her chest.

She was naked, she realized, her breasts hanging down. The silicone gel pushed forward under her 'fur', making her look quite large in the chest, big enough that her hands couldn't quite cover her breasts, and she couldn't really do much besides push at her nipples, depressing them and pushing them in slightly. Shaking her head, she lowered her hands to her hips, feeling how they flared out from her waist, how they were thick and full, and...

She looked at the silhouette again, and then reached around to her ass. Just like her chest, it was oversized, pushed out, filled out, thick and bouncy, but not particularly wide. It pushed backwards rather than sideways, and as she pushed down on the gel cheeks, she felt them resist for a moment before slowly sinking in, depressing under her fingertips. She could feel the resistance there, the way that the cheeks were trying to hold their shapes against the pressure, but they finally gave in as she kept pushing down.

As she pulled her hands back, handprints remained in her ass cheeks for a few moments, then they filled back out again. Philia could only imagine what would happen to her later, when she was being examined by -

Owner.

The concept popped into her head, and with it came a message.

_Philia Orders, Priority List.

Clean Domicile.

Ensure Personal Cleanliness.

Ensure Security of Domicile.

End Order List_

"...A...cleaner? I am...a cleaner?"

Philia didn't know how to respond to that. On the one hand, that nearly-dead part of her that had been complaining about every passing 'her' through her mind was outraged. They had been something else, not a cleaner, not something meant to stay under someone else's thumb. They certainly hadn't been owned.

But at the same time...

The programming was deep down inside their core, right beside the root functions and processes. There was nothing that Philia could do to stop herself from following the orders, and without warning, she found her legs moving on their own, carrying her through the root functions, getting started on the cleaning.

#

Philia simulated a panting huff as she was hit with another programmed burst of 'pleasure.' It was less of a physical sensation and more of a command to execute the symptoms of biological bliss, triggered by following the orders deep down in her core.

The result was a splatter of fem-juices that left the puffy, rubbery sex that protruded slightly from between her legs. The Pikachu-Slut model, or at least her version of it, was designed with a more visible than average sex, something meant for display and showing off arousal. The thing constantly dripped, running along her legs, and it took her at least an hour of cleaning to realize that it was meant for cleaning and wiping things down.

Did it mean that there were pheromones in the juices that were spread throughout the house? Yes, but the squirt-juices were also designed for cleaning, breaking down dirt and more that clung to the different sheet-metal surfaces around her. Philia shifted from merely wiping down the surfaces around her to pressing her tools, from wipe-rag to spray-cleaner to feather-duster, between her legs before bringing them to the walls and windows of the house.

Every time she did, she felt a burst of pleasure from down below, shocking her, rewarding her for following orders. She barely kept up with the intense stimulation, her legs clacking and clicking together at the knees when the stronger bursts of pleasure hit her and leaving her little in the way of chances to actually recover from how powerful that feeling was.

She had cleaned most of the house - three rooms, with one locked door to a fourth chamber - when something shook the entire building. Philia paused, her eyes not quite widening, but rather flicking all around, gathering information as to what might be happening, what might be threatening the domicile.

The third command in her core, to ensure the security of the domicile, demanded that she find out what threatened it. The pikachu doll ran for the window, looking through it.

There was no intruder, or at least, no natural one. There was, however, a storm, and the winds blew at the sheet metal that made up both her domicile and the various other houses that she could see through the piece of jagged glass. She watched as other dolls hurried to shelter, ducking into their houses and taking cover from the storm, while others threw thick wires over their rooftops to keep their roofs in place.

She had no such option. She had to hope for the best.

So, Philia continued her cleaning as the house rattled around her. She had no means of expressing her worries through words or through actions; she was bound and as effectively enslaved as she could be to the house proper, unable to take cover as the storm worsened. The rattling of water pouring down on the metal above her told her that there was going to be a deluge outside, and if she was caught in it...

Well, a doll could survive some water damage, but not forever. And not without an extensive drying-out later. She had to hope that the house would hold together.

She managed to clean half of the last room before the storm finally broke through. One panel on the roof came free, ripped off in the wind, and a hole was left behind. Water started pouring in, dripping through a gap that was barely larger than Philia's fist, but that was still enough to risk some serious damage. The overlapping panels above were good at keeping the worst of it out, but -

Ensure the security of the domicile.

The command forced her to do something about it. Philia would have gritted her teeth in frustration if that was something that her limited programming allowed her, but there was nothing that she could do but obey the core functions. She dropped the feather-duster and moved to stand beneath the flowing water. It drizzled over her head, soaking her from head to toe almost instantly. Some few droplets tried to push past the gaps in her chassis in the back of her neck, but couldn't quite make it through.

They came close, though, a reminder of the dangers of the flood.

Philia stood on her tiptoes, reaching her arms over her head. A doll stood perhaps six inches tall, and with her arms pushed out, she could manage two more inches. She pressed her hands to the hole, covering it -

Zzzzt.

Zzzzt.

Her arms trembled as the extension opened slight gaps under the ball-bearings that formed her shoulder joints, and water quickly started flowing into them. The initial flow zapped the circuitry in her arms, freezing them in place, her fingers pulled tight to fists in the gap in the ceiling. Even if she'd tried walking herself away - even if she had the option - her hands were now locked in place, forcing her to stay where she was until or unless she was either repaired or had her arms ripped from their sockets.

Philia shivered as the water continued to ooze down and into her chassis. The normal self-preservation protocols were not operating at peak capacity, likely submerged beneath the other protocols and routines that had been installed in her processor before she'd been woken up. Her 'muscles' twitched, the different strings and wires inside her that allowed movement and directed her limbs at her processor's commands tightening and loosening, pulling and tensing. Her legs twitched, her ass cheeks bounced, and her head jerked to the side repeatedly.

As the water continued to dribble through her frame, finding its way to the more and more sensitive parts closer to her core, she could feel 'wrong' commands coming up. They were hitting her in different places, and through the gaps under her arms, steam and smoke were slowly starting to rise.

Her voice box suddenly sparked, and her mouth moved without her permission.

"Please, master, spank me."

Clench. Jerk. Twitch.

She 'felt' her ass cheeks clench, bouncing, jerking from the sudden not-there spank that followed the request. A show. A part of a subroutine to deliver pleasure as a Pikachu-Slut model. She was supposed to show herself. But she could not move. She could only clench. Only -

"P-please, sir. I am a s-sl-slut. I-I should be u-used."

The water damage was worse than anticipated, if it was already affecting her insides and her voice like that. Her head was bobbing, popping to the side, risking cracks to the side of her neck and the back of the chassis there. The spinal line of circuits and wires could be tremendously damaged if that happened.

But bound as she was, Philia had no chance to save herself. She could only stand there, ensuring the security of the domicile.

"I-I-I am so w-w-wet."

Her voice was coming through with more and more of a stutter, more and more of a whine that underwrote everything that she said. The steam was turning into smoke as the water started messing with the internal parts more than it should. Her core processor had something around it, keeping it from getting fully damaged, but her mouth opened with a graying, blackening cloud oozing through her lips.

Her core was smoking up. Her vision was sparking, going more static-y with each passing second. Her head continued twitching to the side, and the spasmodic jerks and twitches and clenching of her ass cheeks were getting ever more violent. They were losing any rhythm, no longer resembling the 'twerking' of her memory banks, but rather the violent shakes and tremors of someone going into a seizure.

One leg jerked up, leaving her hanging with more of her weight from her arms. Her legs kicked, twitched, trying to wrap around something that wasn't there. A stripper pole? A mechanical shaft? Something. Her sexual parts clenched, her anal port doing the same, trying to find something to burn the water out of her, but there was nothing.

"U-use me. I am s-s-so-so-so-so we-wet," she stuttered.

The dirty talk processor was failing, the urge to do what she was programmed to do almost overwhelming, but her body was falling apart. The silhouette on her HUD had gone from green to yellow, and several parts were bright red. One of them was the battery, and as the storm outside got worse, so did the condition of her chassis. All the water running down her arms and into her were sending her internal commands mad, leaving her on the fritz, barely able to keep herself coherent and aware of her surroundings.

Soon, as the storm reached its peak and the rain fell harder than ever, she couldn't even do that. The rain fell through the hole, down her arms, and into her chassis, and the world went black, her head cracking to the side and a hole opening in the side of her neck chassis.

#

Bzzzzt.

The sound of booting back up was something that she had never expected to hear again. Philia had honestly thought that all the water damage that she'd suffered would have drowned her out before her owner could come home and save her, but apparently, she'd underestimated either her owner's speed or the damage that she could sustain. She rather hoped that it was the former; there was an underlying bit of knowledge that the latter would mean that she would be put through ever more dangerous situations.

A needle knitted through the fake skin that had ripped at the side of her head, putting on a patch of synth-flesh in approximately the same shade of yellow as the rest of her. A voice, oddly maternal, spoke behind her.

"Hmmm, I suppose it was a little optimistic to think that you would be able to take care of things on your own. Well, now I know better."

"..."

Spark, spark. Several lines of electricity sparked into view from her neck, but no sound came from her voice-box. The other voice chuckled.

"Awake, are you? Finally."

"..."

"Don't try and talk. The storm fried your speaker, so we're going to have to wait until we can replace that for you to get anything out again. But don't worry. The orders I have for you don't require any real conversation."

"..."

"I said, stop trying to talk."

Philia listened after that. There was not really a source of 'pain' for her, just as there hadn't been a real source of 'pain' when she was being gradually shut down by all the water inside her. Instead, there was a feeling of being...wrong, incorrect, in a much greater sense than just the diffusion of her male memories. She sat there, waiting for the repairs to finish.

Other bits of information were fed to her processor. She was soaked from the waist down, but the majority of her body had dried out from above that point. She imagined that there had been some sort of emergency vent from within, allowing her body to shed all the water that it had taken on. The repairs must have been done while she was shut down, keeping her from being aware of all the work that had been done.

And the person doing it, or rather, the doll doing it, was taller than her. Not by much, merely a fraction of an inch, but inches mattered when you only had six to begin with.

"Heh...well, at least all the alterations I made to the chassis survived. The cheeks and tits are good, and I think that tongue of yours should still work, even if you can't talk," the maternal voice said. "And you're not going to be shutting down again anytime soon, not after I spent the last few hours charging you up. And...there we go, that gets the patch on."

The last of the needle threading stopped. Philia could tell that the patch was well and truly attached, holding tight to her neck. She flexed her hands, felt the clicking. She'd need some lubrication, some oil or something to get rid of any marks and flecks among her limbs, but she was in reasonably good shape for having gone through a flood. The fact that her fingers still worked after being submerged for hours, if not days, was something of a miracle.

"Stand and turn, cleaner."

Cleaner. Yes. Cleaner. Owned. She had almost forgotten that. The voice had sounded nice enough that Philia had almost considered its owner as someone that would be kind and good, rather than someone that, from all the evidence, had transplanted a mind into a different chassis for a slut and cleaner. The pikachu doll did as she was told, though, getting up and turning around to look at her owner and repairer.

What she saw was a Marowak doll, one that stood almost a full head taller than her. Rather than the much curvier female dolls that she had in her memory banks and what she had expected of those that would take someone like her, she found someone that looked like she had sprung from the wilds. The brown 'fur' skin that she wore was ripped in places, showing just how old a model this one was. Metal bits showed through the underside, a reminder that this model would have come before all the later, more advanced ones that were made of different plastic polymers. She carried a white 'bone' club, though the bone seemed to be made of the same sort of metal, and it was studded with different bits of nails and other weapons that the older doll had probably picked up outside the city.

Of course, that didn't mean that she wasn't curvaceous, just that she had the muscles and strength to balance them out. She showed off breasts that were just as fulsome as Philia's, and while she wore a loincloth to cover her lower parts, her hips were wide enough to really show off the difference between her sharp, hard stomach and abs against her motherly curves.

It was odd to look at, but her programming told her that she should be aroused by it, and she was. For once, her male and female parts of her programming were completely in agreement with one another, and her sexual parts started dripping, oozing more of their fluids rather than rainwater.

The Marowak's skull-helmet twitched, as if she was smiling.

"Well, at least those parts still work."

"..."

"Not gonna talk for a while, told you."

There were a lot of things that she wanted to say, a lot of questions that she wanted to ask. But it was going to have to wait, as the other woman said. They were still figuring each other out, and she didn't have the parts to make demands, or the ability to ask questions, or anything.

The Marowak pointed to herself.

"I'm Jill, but you're going to call me 'Owner'. You're gonna find that you can't say anything else for my name, and that's fine. You're not going anywhere; you're going to live here. You're going to take care of this place while I go hunting for shit, so it doesn't matter that much if you can't talk normal."

"..."

"You got a problem with that?"

Philia slowly nodded.

"Heh, you still remember your old life?"

Philia nodded and shook her head.

"A little yes, a little no?"

She nodded.

"Well, that'll be something to get fixed, too. Heh. Guess even the best programmers can't get rid of everything. But trust me, girl. You're better off here than you were out there. Mighta been a male, but you were already getting treated like a female by everyone else."

Philia didn't know if that was true or not, but at the same time, she knew that she wasn't going to get a better deal. Maybe she was just too much of an investment for the Marowak to throw out, but Owner Jill had still repaired her rather than throwing her in the trash, so that was a plus. It meant that she had some value, and that she'd be taken care of as long as she followed the rules as presented.

She nodded in understanding, and Owner Jill nodded back.

"Good girl. Now, you can move alright?"

A quick check through her systems confirmed. Everything was dry enough inside for proper movement, and she nodded.

"Good. Then bend over."

The owner demanded it, and that meant she had to obey. Philia turned around, saw the bed, and leaned over it, pushing her ass out and back towards the Marowak.

She half-expected to get fucked, to have a strap-on pulled out of nowhere, or perhaps to have the narrower end of the club put to use on her pussy. That would have been about standard; both gender halves of her brain agreed that it was pretty normal to get used like that. It was expected, it was normal.

But what happened next was not normal.

She blinked as something the size of a fist pressed against her swollen sex, slowly pushing further and further into her, spreading her out and leaving her rather wide. She tried to look down and back, but her breasts were too large for her to look around.

"It's some fruit. Don't worry about it."

Fruit? But why -

Extra Core Capacity.

It had been one of the various features of her model, and she had almost forgotten about it until that moment. Her stomach spread out a bit, filling out from within as the fruit was pushed further and further up between her legs. It finally popped past the tunnel that was normally used solely for the expulsion of sexual fluids, resting in her 'guts.'

Another item was pushed in, this time some sort of cylindrical container. It forced her open, but not so wide as the fruit. It was similar to a long, endless thrust that went deeper and deeper, before the cylinder popped past the end of her vaginal chute, landing in her core with the fruit.

One piece of equipment, one bit of wasteland treasure after another got jammed up her pussy, pressed up, up, up until it 'fell' into her stomach. Philia felt each one landing in place, her mouth hanging open in shock at the capacity that she had inside. She never would have guessed that it was possible, but she supposed that the extra-flexible synth-skin around her stomach cavity had a reason for being there. She just hadn't thought it was that.

When Owner Jill pulled her hand out, giving her permission to sit up, she could hardly believe what she saw. Her stomach pushed out like some pregnant woman in her databases, looking like she was ready to give birth. Not that dolls could ever do that, but the appearance was there, her stomach stretched, the equivalent to her belly button 'popping' out a little bit to show off just how full she was.

"That'll be a good place to keep the goods until I can arrange a sale," the Owner said. "And should keep you slow and easy to find."

"..."

"Heh...don't worry. I'm going to take good care of you. I don't hurt my property."

Philia wasn't sure about that, but did she really have a choice? She had already been transplanted once; nothing said that Owner Jill wouldn't do it again, giving the body a different, more pliable mind. It was entirely possible for her to be kicked out and left as a chassis-less processor, something well worse than death.

Owner Jill gripped her chin, forcing her to look up.

"I said, I will take care of you. Just like you will take care of me."

"..."

"You'll get your pleasure again in a moment, and you'll learn to love it...but for now, on your knees."

That was far more familiar. Though most of her male memories were locked off and hidden away, she remembered what they used to do to earn the energy fruits to survive. Philia went to her knees, looking up at the Marowak's loincloth. It slid to the side, revealing an already-dampening pussy.

"Get your mouth in there..."

There was no need to encourage her. Of all the things that she had been programmed to do, this task was the one that she knew best. She smiled, leaning forward and pressing her lips to the Marowak's sex. It was already damp, already eager, already just waiting to be parted and teased. She pressed her tongue inside, tasting the low-flavor, low-energy juices. Not enough power there to really be wasted with anything but a bit of light slime, but enough to show that there was genuine interest in being served.

She could earn a reward from this. She knew how to do that all too well.

As she thrust her tongue inside, Owner Jill pressed a hand to her head. Philia accepted it, as she accepted her place. This was her position from now on...and all things considered, it wasn't nearly as bad as it could be. It could be better, and it might be better...

But for now, it was one that she could live with.

The End

Summary: A programmed intelligence wakes up in a new body.

Tags: F/F, Formerly Male, Gender Weirdness, New Curves, Robot, Doll, AI, Big Breasts, Puffy Pussy, Pikachu, Anthro, Marowak, Anthro Pokemon, Oral, Twerking, Malfunction, Vaginal, Fingering, Wet,