doll joints dot click


CW: Identity death/complete memory replacement

[co-written with my Lady]

an assassin, a famed gun-for-hire, that one day, winds up with an offer he can't refuse. enough money to retire, for a few months of exclusive service. but, there's a catch: his body won't do. this client, this Lady mysterious, wants him in something more... mechanical. shining, and sleek, and, well. femme. it even comes with a new name, for some opsec reason or another: Scarlet.

he takes the job anyway. fights for her, hunts who she wants. his new body feels like it refines his skill a hundredfold, makes him deadlier than he ever could be before. and it's... oddly easy to get used to looking like he does now, as well as the fact that his employer always refers to him as a woman, as her lovely gynoid. "to help maintain your identity", she says with a grin. his employer is rather attractive, too. his body is clearly tailored partly to her preferences as much as it is to pure practical concerns. and the way she praises him, tells him "good girl, Scarlet" after a job well done... it sends shivers down his circuits. the body’s programming? his own? who could say.

eventually, she has him attend to her living space as well. cleaning, doing laundry, and such. always praising him for a job well done, stroking a hand down his back, lingering just a little above his ass. "My Scarlet is such a good maidgirl." she murmurs to him. she’s very, very good at this, is perhaps his thought. In all his experience, weird employers are the ones who slip; but the Lady has never once referred to her as anything other than his cover.

referred to him, he corrects himself. she's never slipped. but he, on the other hand, is having a hard time remembering that being Scarlet the robot girl, Scarlet the maid, is just a cover. although a cover identity she--he--finds very easy to adopt.

even the mannerisms come natural. the excitement, the freedom. whoever designed this body, the cover, has thought of everything; surely it can’t be her--can’t be him, she corrects her thoughts, and it sounds wrong.

and the Lady is becoming more possessive, as well. more physically intimate. caressing her soft, metallic form. she may be strong in body, but in those moments, she feels so very weak and helpless.

"do you like this?", the Lady whispered in her ear while touching her thigh, softly, the sensors spreading that heat’s signal like fire through her.

and she moaned out "yes, Lady!" in a way she never would have done just a few months prior.

and the Lady traced with her nails as she touched between her legs, where the sensor gain is highest.

"Good girl," She says, and it’s all true.

"Good Scarlet."

and she was so overwhelmed all she could do was rock her hips, whimper, beg for more as she subconsciously slipped more and more under the Lady's control. as her identity as Scarlet became more and more real, pushing aside anything that might contradict it.

after all, what else could feel this right? It wasn’t a cover anymore, it was more like… a truth, filling her, rushing out from the inside just as much as the mere word Scarlet from Her lips could send her in a spiral of happy, unbounded moans.

the truth settling around her head, guiding her thoughts. her only identity was Scarlet, the Lady's maid and weapon. it was all she had ever been.

"So, My Scarlet," the Lady says, "shall we take some time together before we go out for our little mission?"

and She opens the bedroom door, inviting, her knees buckling at the mere idea that this could be happening.

after all, Her desires have always been so overwhelmingly good, haven’t they? Scarlet lives to fulfill the desires of her Lady, and to serve Her on the battlefield, in Her mansion, and in Her bed.

and, the next day, the Lady hands Scarlet some things to dispose of. a contract signed by a signature Scarlet doesn't recognize, with terms that she can't bring herself to read. old masculine clothes that don't look familiar at all to her. and she does it. The Lady orders them gone, and it is her job, her life, her everything, to just obey.

and when someone shows up at the Lady's mansion, calls her by a strange name she doesn't recognize, she just shakes her head. "You must be mistaken. My name is Scarlet, and I am my Lady's slave."