Payton's Storm, Part 1

Payton climbed off the bus, holding her backpack over one shoulder. Her short, buzzed, hair and baggy clothing disguised her gender well enough that the teachers at school often chastised her about using the wrong rest room. She hefted her bag higher on her back and walked the rest of the way home from the bus stop.

“You’re not getting a car, Payton. Cars are dangerous, Payton.” She muttered to herself, mocking her parents. The fifteen year old girl huffed, and tried to put her annoyance out of her mind. She was turning sixteen tomorrow, and her parents promised her something just as special. “It’d better be special” she thought. They had her do all kinds of personality tests, and answer hundreds of questions on her tablet. The questions were mostly boring, but some of them were about her sex life and sexual preferences. Those questions made her feel weird.

The bus silently whizzed by her. “Bitch could have at least dropped me off closer to my house.” She murmured. The mile walk down the road was one she had to make every morning and afternoon, even though she was the only one at that bus stop, and even though the bus passed her house. She was a little bitter about it.

Today though, it was worth it. On the porch waiting for her was a large black polycarbonate crate. It was unmarked except for the shipping labels. A grin crossed her face when she saw it was addressed to her. She quirked a brow when she saw where it was from. “Cyrus, AKF in Latvia?” she muttered to herself.

The crate was heavy, and about a foot shorter than her. It took her a few minutes to wiggle it in over the threshold. She took out her phone, and gave her dad a call.

“Daddy?” she asked when her father picked up. She only called him ‘Daddy’ when she wanted something.

“Oh, hi Payton. Is something wrong?” he asked. Payton could hear her dad tapping away at his computer.

“There is a big box here, like really big. It’s addressed to me…” Payton let her voice trail off.

“Ah, it came early. Happy birthday sweetie.”

“Can I…?”

“Go ahead, honey. I am a little scared to know exactly how it turned out.”

Payton paused. “Why are you scared? You don’t know what it is?”

“All I know is it’s a synthetic, honey.” Someone interrupted him on his end. “Honey, if it’s something I don’t want to know about, don’t tell me, ok?”

“Yes, Daddy.” She said.

“I’ve got to go. See you tonight. I love you. Happy birthday.”

“I love you too, daddy.”

She hung up her cellphone. “How the hell am I going to get this thing up to my room?”

She spent the better part of an hour fighting with the box, getting it up the stairs. Several times she considered just opening the damn thing down stairs, but didn’t. She leaned against the crate once it was in her room, and just caught her breath for several minutes. “You sure are heavy, whatever you are.”

She took a screw gun to the top, and popped off the lid. Manuals. She flipped through the piles of paperwork, ignoring the vast majority of it. She picked out the quick start guide and specification sheet.

“’Thank you for purchasing’ blah-blah-blah, ‘fully charged’, blah-blah-blah. Ok, ‘open the front of the crate, make sure no one else is in the room, and hide any pictures of human faces. Imprinting takes only seconds.’ Imprinting?” She put down the guide and flipped down what few pictures she had in her bedroom. She looked over the specifications. “It’s named Storm. They named it Storm. Cute, but really?” She asked the wind.

She took a screw gun to the front panel of the crate, and let the acrylic panel drop. Curled over in a fetal position was a girl. She thinks it’s a girl. Payton glanced at herself in a mirror, then down at the lifeless form in the crate. It was the 10 year old version of what she was now.

Storm’s head looked up, the glow of its eyes cycling through the rainbow in an infinite loop. Payton jumped back, startled by Storm’s sudden movements. The cycling of colors stopped, and Storm’s eyes stopped glowing. Her irises were a bright orange, the only inhuman trait about how she looked.

Storm was shipped in a very thin garment, a long shear nightgown. The synthetic’s hair was longer than Payton’s but not by much – Storm could pass as a boy as easily as Payton could. Storm stood up out of the crate, and took a step forward. She looked up at Payton with a shy smile. “Hello, Master Payton.” It said.

Payton tripped and fell backwards onto her bed. “You already know my name?” she said in amazement.

Storm looked around the room, and caught herself in the mirror. She tilted her head curiously at seeing herself. “I have been programmed specifically for you, Master.”

Payton steadied herself into a sitting position on the bed and patted the bed next to her “What are you programmed to do?”

Storm sat on the bed, cross-legged. Her gown barely provided her modesty in this position. “I am designed to be the little brother or sister you never had, Master.”

Payton craned her neck to try and see under Storm’s gown. “If you are supposed to be my sister, why do you keep calling me ‘Master’?”

“Would you prefer if I called you Mistress?”

Payton had to think about that for a second. She shook the thought from her mind. “Why don’t you call me ‘sis or something, if you are supposed to be my little sister?”

“Because that isn’t the type of little brother or sister you wanted.” Storm looked up at Payton with wide eyes. “Was that a mistake?”

Payton reached out, took the bottom of the Storm’s gown, and lifted it enough to see between the synthetic’s legs. Her eyes widened, a grin curled across her lips. Storm wasn’t a girl, or a boy for that matter. Storm was equipped with both. “No, that wasn’t a mistake.”

Storm read Payton’s expressions. “Yes, it is interchangeable, Master.”

“Don’t, uh, call me that when my mom and dad are around. I don’t want them freaking out.” Payton kept her eyes on Storm’s small penis, hanging limply over a tight slit.

Storm moved silently. She pulled her gown off over her head, and dropped it on the floor with the other packing material.

Payton moved up the bed, and laid on her side. Storm was quick to follow, and laid on her back in front of the fully clothed girl. Payton’s hand wandered over Storm’s belly. “You’re cool. I mean cold.”

Storm nodded. When Payton’s hand slid closer to her crotch, a shiver shot up the synthetic’s body. Storm’s little cock grew semi-rigid. Payton rubbed her palm over Storm’s shaft, gently she worked the small penis hard. Her hand gripped Storm, stroking her.

“I’ve never touched anyone like this” Payton said, her gaze locked on the child’s body.

“It feels good.” Storm said, letting out a sigh, as her eyes closed. Her legs opened and Payton could see, and smell, the moisture glistening off her lips.

Payton leaned down, and pressed her lips to Storm’s, kissing her, while her hand stroked Storm’s shaft. She moved quickly, squeezing tightly around the tiny cock. Storm opened her mouth, letting her tongue play with Payton’s. Her body writhed from pleasure and a bit of discomfort from the rough handling of her little package.

Storms hip’s thrust after only a few moments of the treatment, and shot a hot clear load into Payton’s hand.

Payton broke the kiss. “You… came.” She said, surprised.

Storm’s cheeks were flush, and she panted. “Yes, Master. Was it too soon?”

“It was perfect.” Payton said, as she leaned down to kiss Storm’s cheek. She brought her messy hand to Storm’s mouth, and the synthetic dutifully licked and sucked her own cum from it.

“You are defiantly better than a car.”