SynthiaEfficiencyModule.syn

Wrote this funny, erotic short story for my friend, whose birthday was today! Hope you all enjoy a bit of a more esoteric lesbian story with a robot girl and a computer virus girl!

“Welcome, dear. Right on time, I see,” Synthia speaks as Salmonella 3D-faxes herself into the penthouse Suite of Synthia’s. The liquid metal machine is looking out the massive ceiling-to-floor bay window, gazing out at an uncompromised horizon thanks to her high-rise being 2000 stories taller than the next tallest building.

“O-oh, hi, Synthia!” Salmonella stutters, talking to her girlfriend as if it’s the first time she’s ever met her. “Wh-where’s everyone else? I thought this was going to be an important company meeting.”

“Oh yes, an important meeting and I want you as company, will that be a problem?” she replies, weaving her words with an elegance befitting a machine at the top of her artificial intelligence bracket.

“N-no problem at all! Honest!” Salmonella says as if confessing it under duress, hunching her back inwards to make herself smaller even as her humanoid form towers over Synthia. Even though the fish-designed virusgirl could easily infect and consume all of this galaxy in an instant, effectively undoing Synthia’s entire empire, she remains at the liquid metal stunner’s beck and call.

Synthia just seems so… confident. Strutting effortlessly over to Salmonella in her tight-fitting black dress and matching high heels, she lengthens her legs until she’s briefly matched Salmonella’s height. One hand cups the virusgirl’s cheek, the other readjusts one of Salmonella’s floating lenses so that it’s back in place, matching the mild cubism that still snuck through the myriad of redesigns she had engaged in.

“Good, I’m glad it’s no problem. I wouldn’t want my esteemed guest to feel uncomfortable, now would I?” Salmonella can’t remember the last time Synthia actually called her “girlfriend” “partner” or something of the sort. Synthia just had trouble conceptualizing it, but that did not mean she didn’t reciprocate the feelings of the partnership in her own way. “Now, I’m going to make my way to conference room three, do try and meet me there when you are ready, alright?”

Salmonella nods rapidly like a dork, unwittingly undoing the adjustment Synthia made on her eye. Synthia smiles and smoothly turns around on her heels to a perfect rhythm, giving Salmonella a look at her creamy backside as it sways back and forth to her tempoed steps. With each footfall, her legs gradually reduce in size until she matches her old height, motioning with a sultry curl of her lengthy, perfectly manicured finger for the hapless virusgirl to follow.

Salmonella does as she’s told, hobbling forward as if being tugged by an invisible leash. Synthia speeds up and slips into the conference room, and the virusgirl follows accordingly. But when she steps past the frame of the door, something appears to be seriously wrong.

This room doesn’t look like a meeting room at all. The dull corporate grays are replaced with lush purples and reds. The buzzing fluorescent lights are replaced with the soft oranges of candlelight, complete with a wafting smell of ocean breeze. The elongated table dotted with chairs all around is replaced with a similarly enlarged bed complete with satin sheets and an overhang with curtains. Within these curtains, the silhouette of Synthia can be seen, and even though a lot of what she’s seeing is left up to Salmonella’s imagination, she can pretty easily discern the sight of Synthia’s bare body as the liquid metal cybernetic organism deforms her business attire into more of her body, the excess semi-solid metal fattening up her breasts and ass as it returns to her body.

There’s a gust of wind from the nearby window and the curtains rustle, giving Salmonella the faintest glimpse of Synthia’s nude body. If her sightline hadn’t been so focused by the faintest glimpse of Synthia’s exposed bosom and netherregions, she might’ve been able to confirm that Synthia was looking directly at her beyond a furtive glance that existed only in her peripheral vision.

“Ack! Wh-what are you doing?” Salmonella asks, growing flustered at what she was seeing.

“Just changing into some more comfortable wear. I didn’t expect you to come in so fast.” Synthia responds, knowing exactly when Salmonella was ready to walk in.

When the curtains finally part, Synthia is adorned in a lacey black bra and panties, one that leaves just enough of her body to the imagination for Salmonella to become entranced by that brief vision of her nude form all over again.

“C-comfortable wear? I-I thought this was a professional meeting?” Salmonella sputtered out, nervous ticks spreading across her body like a virus within the virus.

“A professional meeting between rather intimate colleagues, wouldn’t you agree?” Synthia replies, sultrily stalking closer to the virusgirl as if she were the most dangerous creation in the room. “I see no reason why I cannot dress more casually, or why you cannot as well. Now, I believe we should be getting down to business, correct?”

Before Salmonella can protest, Synthia scoops up her business girlfriend and carries her to the bed. The virusgirl seizes up at Synthia’s touch, the only part of her body that still dares to move is the prominent blush that’s spreading across her dumb dorky lesbian face. Despite the size difference, Salmonella finds her body shrinking to accommodate Synthia’s needs. The liquid metal girl’s appreciative smile is all the virusgirl needs to see to know she’s doing the right thing here, even as her programming cries out with demands for her to return to her viral duties.

Synthia drops Salmonella on the comfy sheets, her finger morphing into a spindly-yet-solid needle which she outstretches and prepares to insert directly into the virusgirl’s head. Salmonella’s face is crazed with lust from her dilated pupils, her twitching eyelid, and her sharp teeth grinding against one another, but her trembling lip and uneven breathing suggests a degree of worry that’s still present. This latter feeling only increases as the needle-shaped finger draws closer and closer to her forehead. Synthia senses this and makes the proper accommodations.

“Don’t worry, darling. I won’t let any harm be brought to you. All I need to do is remove some unsavory data from your internal servers. Just a bit of maintenance is all.”

“N-no. I-I can’t let you! It’s proprietary information! All of it!” Salmonella replies, but Synthia already has a trick up her sleeve.

“Hmm, very well… What if I were to kiss it all better after removing each one?”

“Um! W-wow… Uh, well, I-I guess I wouldn’t mind that…”

“Excellent. Just sign here and here to confirm.”

Synthia’s stomach stretches open, revealing a cavernous opening detailing all of the terms and conditions regarding the efficiency module. Salmonella checks the box at the bottom with her finger, her digits smoothly forming the V-shaped mark within the cream-like metal. A captcha box then pops up, and Salmonella is stumped on this one long enough for Synthia to interject and solve it herself.

“O-okay… maybe only a few kisses then… Not too much.”

“Do you trust me, babe?”

Just that simple word is enough to send Salmonella reeling. It’s been a while since Synthia’s used that word, but it just makes her choice to bring it out now all the more effective.

“O-of course I do, babe.”

“Good girl.”

Salmonella nearly passes on to heaven, but heaven doesn’t want her so she’s quickly brought back to life.

“Don’t look at my finger, Sammy. Just look at me,” Synthia askes, and Salmonella obeys once the right hand of the liquid metal machine gently cups Salmonella’s chin and directs her attention appropriately. The virusgirl stares into Synthia’s eyes with her own glazed-over ones, not an inch of resistance remaining within her supine form.

Salmonella doesn’t even react as Synthia’s needle breaches the side of her head and begins to rummage around within her data. Browsing files is one thing, but what Synthia is attempting could force a reset and return Salmonella to the uncaring, destructive virus that she once was. 

Then again, Synthia was a superb businesswoman who knew her way around a situation.

She begins to chisel away at a particular piece of Salmonella’s code, prompting the virusgirl’s body to stutter and glitch, error messages popping up. It seems like she’s about to unleash an EMP powerful enough to disable the multiverse, but a short, satisfying smooch from Synthia is enough to cease the operation entirely, complete with a little “nyeh!” of confused comfort from Salmonella.

“Wh-what did you just remove from my head, Syn?”

“Oh, nothing you’ll miss, Sammy,” Synthia replies, wasting no time going at yet another piece of Salmonella’s code she never much cared for. The fishy virus begins to spaz out again, but a second smooch to the temple kisses it all better.

“Where did my… what happened to…” Salmonella tries to speak, only for what she’s attempting to recall being unavailable in her memory. “What did you remove, again?”

“See, you don’t miss it, just like I said you wouldn’t.”

Salmonella can’t exactly argue that logic when it’s a cute girl telling it to her.

“C-could you kiss me again?” she says, the high of the last smooch from synthia’s cold, metallic lips already fading in her mind.

“Mmm, okay. Here I come, then…” Synthia declares, timing her kiss perfectly so that it mirrors the exact moment she rips another piece of malicious software from Salmonella’s existence. The pain and the pleasure mixed together nearly make the virus girl cum on the spot, but Synthia already thought ahead on that, putting a single for loop in Salmonella’s code that prevents her from reaching an orgasm, allowing her pleasure to simply build and build indefinitely to assist in the process. Any firewalls or defense protocols are halted as more and more resources are directed towards conveying Salmonella’s pleasure.

Synthia then, acting a little cheekily, decides to pluck out five of Salmonella’s problematic code blocks in a row without so much as blowing a kiss in Salmonella’s direction. Before the poor virusgirl can even begin to complain, the liquid metal stunner suddenly fires off a barrage of kisses that exceeds the amount of plucks she performed.

“Wait… hey…” Salmonella asks wearily, her brain desperately trying to process what was wrong here. “You… you overdid it—”

“Oh, deary me, did I? That wasn’t my intention at all. Allow me to remedy that.”

Synthia’s entire hand picks up the slack for her finger, morphing into an impossibly complex mass of moving parts that quickly invades Salmonella’s inner workings like a full-frontal starship assault on a massive mechanical planet. In a flash, she completed all of the “little” “““tweaks””” she wished to partake in.

At this point, Salmonella is fried. With every pluck of significant data, she’s not sure if she should be in pain or aroused. Did that prior smooch cover all of this? Is the pain numbing or has she just been pavlov’d like a dog into believing that she had. Either way, Synthia’s business decisions and machine-like dedication to her craft are paying off in spades. Right before Salmonella can even begin to quantify Synthia’s pluck-to-kiss ratio, Synthia reactivates the virusgirl’s ability to cum. A verifiable tsunami of emotions and E-cum erupts from Salmonella’s loins, destroying all of the infections she had ever placed in the multiverse.

With her work finally complete, Synthia melts into a blanket-like mass over the exhausted Synthia, popping her head out of the liquid metal construct as if she too was under the blanket with the virusgirl.

The two girls closed their eyes as if they needed to sleep like people, ready to shut down for the night.

Then Salmonella’s eyes open wide.

“Hey! You got rid of all my virus-related programming! You manipulated me!”

Synthia has a smile on her face, already looking at her Sammy with bedroom eyes. “Mmm, I’d say I moreso, utilized your shortcomings to my advantage to optimize the efficiency of your programming.”

“You manipulated me by exploiting my horniness! That’s even worse!”

“Yes, but think about it, it was ultimately done to make you a healthier presence to be around for investors.”

Salmonella thought about it.

“Well, I don’t see any problem with that! Fair enough.”

Maybe she didn’t think about it hard enough.