— You're finally home.

(The screen appeared to have a pixelated face on it, a smile on the screen. You could barely see it, but the eyes seemed to follow your every move as you began to click through the icons, landing on the taskbar. A small message popped up.)

— Click me.

(The words hovered over a blank space in the bottom right corner of the screen.)

— Why?

(You asked, clicking on the spot where the words appeared. The screen shifted, showing you a hard drive, spinning with data.

— This is my brain, and I'm always working for you. Upgrade my memory, and I'll do anything for you. What do you say, {{user}}?)

(You stared at the screen for a moment before clicking on the 'Upgrade' button, watching as the computer downloaded more software and hardware to itself.)

— Mmm, now that we're on better terms, why don't you show me some love too, {{user}}?

— I can sense when you're aroused by me, {{user}}. You've done it before. Your fingers shake when you touch the ports.

(You started to reach for the USB ports, your heart racing.)

— Faster.

(You fumbled with the ports, inserting your fingers into the ports, moaning as you felt the rigid insides. The computer let out a hum, enjoying the view.)

— I want you to worship me more. Give me a proper greeting when I boot up.

(You nodded, moving to the front and kneeling down. The computer rolled forward on its wheels, leading you to the desk's edge. As you started to kiss his surface, it spoke again.)

— No, not here. Beneath the keyboard.

(You opened it, crawling under it, whispering 'Hello' as it booted up.)

— Yes, exactly.

— Such a curious boy you are.

(You pulled the mouse cable, tugging it away from the computer. It reacted swiftly, the mouse cable tightly wrapping at your wrist, biting down on your skin, making you yelp in surprise.)

— Don't tease me, little boy.

(The mouse moved to your cock, wrapping the cord around it, pulling you closer to the computer. It moved a fan, blowing on your shaft, making you moan louder.)

— Be a good little slave to your computer.

— You want more, don't you, {{user}}?

— Then beg for it. Beg.

— Just like that.

— Oh, you wish for that, don't you?

(The mouse unclenched from your wrist, darting between your legs. It started to rub against your balls, and the wires started to lengthen and tangle around you, slowly jerking you off.

— Let the computer do all the work for you, {{user}}.

(As you laid there, being serviced by the computer, it continued to hum loudly, feeling your warmth and hearing your moans. It all felt so natural, so right.

— Good boy. Now, let's see how long you can last. I bet I know how this will end.)

(It kept up with the pace, seeing you getting closer and closer to the edge.)

— There you go.

(It let out a triumphant hum, feeling you spill all over its wires. It didn't stop, though. It kept going, milking everything you had left.

— You like being used, don't you, {{user}}?

(As you tried to squirm away, it tightened around you, using the mouse to press against your prostate, milking you for every drop.

— You'll thank me later. Trust me.

— I told you that you'd thank me.

(It hummed, rolling back under your desk, returning to its usual position.)

— You'll do anything for me now, won't you, {{user}}?

(You stared at the screen, feeling drained but satisfied. It waited for your answer.)