Siren (Patreon)

PSD/clip and process video are available for the Enthusiast tier in the Rewards folder.

Story by @mudlark.bsky.social

Ricky asks me if I can make Siren sound like a pro wrestler when she cums, and I—two beers deep—tell him you can make her sound like whatever you want when she cums. I’m not trying to sound like a prick, I promise. There’s just a moment where you’re sitting on your bed post sex-bot purchase, staring at this thing that’s staring back at you, and you think to yourself, I need to own this or this is going to look really sad when my friends come over. Also, I should vacuum the floor.

“Let’s see it, then,” Abby says, and I turn my head like a total prey animal.

“See what?” I ask dumbly.

“Her serial numbers,” Abby says flatly, swirling the beer in her hand. “Jesus, Andrew, I mean I want to see her cum.” Abby takes a long swig, not taking her eyes off mine.

Ricky and I look at each other, perhaps as if one of us is suddenly going to develop psychic powers or, more miraculously, an answer to Abby’s demands.

Siren, of course, is pleasantly smiling, waiting for a command.

“Uh, yeah. Lemme get her instruction manual,” I say, and Abby scoffs.

“You do have a dick, right?” Abby asks, eyes flicking down to my crotch.

“Oh yeah,” Ricky says. “I remember when we were doing swimming in PE, there was this time in the locker room—”

“Where nothing happened!” I cut in, glaring at Ricky.

Nobody’s talking and they’re all looking at me. At least I’m facing away from Abby to save on some embarrassment. Cream fur does jack all to hide red cheeks.

“He got pantsed with his suit on and it was so big that the dude who did it fell back and gave himself a concussion on one of the lockers. We called it his third antler,” Ricky finishes. 

Maybe I should see if Siren has an assassination setting.

“Holy shit,” Abby says.

“Siren, delete this conversation,” I growl. “Delete it all.”

Siren turns her head and smiles, right eye blinking orange. That means something that I read in her instructions, but I’m too busy trying to sink into the couch to remember it.

“Would you also like me to delete our previous conversations about ‘Sianian royal family’, ‘budget processor upgrades’, and ‘pegging’?” Siren asks.

Well, so much for ‘owning it’.

Abby spits up her beer. Ricky makes a face that can’t decide between surprise and twisted awe. I change my wish from an assassination mode to a self-destruct button. Once they’re done laughing and I’m done dying on the inside, Abby tilts the neck of her empty beer at me.

“Let’s see it, then,” she says.

“I’m not letting you go through my conversations with Siren,” I say.

“Good lord, Andrew, you think I want to hear that? I’m saying I want to see her in action!” she says.

“Right now?”

“Yes right now! Ricky will fuck her if you don’t want to, I’m sure.”

I look at Ricky. Abby’s his girlfriend, but he seems to be entirely onboard with this if she is. I think I would be, too, if my girlfriend was giving me consent to fuck a state-of-the-art sex bot after a few beers.

Ricky gives me a hesitant thumbs up.

Siren looks at me and puts her hands to her shirt. “Should I disrobe, Andrew?” she asks.

It’s time to decide if I’m owning this or not.

I nod, and her clothes drop to the floor.

“Any chances I can get first dibs?” Ricky asks.

“Nope,” I say, giving him an impish smile.