Short TG and/or TBDL stories, sometimes variations on the same themes.
Please feel free to adapt them to a full length story and let me know, because I'd love to read it.
Written with the help of AI, all art generated with AI.
Jackson crouched behind a stack of crates outside the towering glass façade of TechCorp, his heart pounding like a war drum. At 19, life had dealt him a rough hand. Growing up in a rundown neighborhood, he’d seen too many friends get caught in the cycle of poverty. Desperation drove him to the brink, and now he was about to take a leap into the unknown.
“Just grab a few gadgets and get out,” he muttered to himself, trying to quell the storm of anxiety swirling in his gut. “It’s just a job. Just a job.”
As he slipped through a side entrance, the cold air inside the building hit him like an icy wave. He crept through the dimly lit hallways, the hum of machinery echoing around him. His flashlight flickered, casting eerie shadows that danced on the walls. He was almost there—the tech vault was just ahead.
Suddenly, a loud beep startled him. “Unauthorized entry detected,” a robotic voice announced.
“Crap!” Jackson whispered, glancing around. He needed to hurry.
In his frantic search for the vault, he stumbled into a room filled with boxes labeled “Nursery Robotics.” Curiosity piqued, he stepped inside, but before he could think twice, his foot caught on a stray wire. He fell forward, accidentally pressing a large red button on a sleek, dome-shaped robot.
“Activation sequence initiated,” the robot chimed cheerfully.
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“What the—?” Jackson started, but before he could react, the robot zoomed toward him, arms extending like a mother reaching for her child.
“Detected: Unattended infant in distress,” it said, before wrapping him in a firm grip. “Initiating care protocols!”
“Wait! No! I’m not an infant!” Jackson protested, trying to wriggle free. But the robot was relentless, its sensors scanning him with alarming efficiency.
“Clothing inappropriate for nursery environment. Recommending diapering and appropriate attire,” it announced, and before Jackson could comprehend, it had unbuttoned his shirt and yanked down his pants.
“Hey! Stop! What are you doing?” he shouted, horrified.
“Diapering in progress,” it replied, as it expertly secured a diaper around his waist. Jackson’s face burned with embarrassment, a mixture of fear and disbelief flooding through him.
“Seriously? You think I need this? I’m not a baby!” he yelled, his protests falling on deaf ears.
The robot continued its work, pulling a pastel onesie over his head and fastening it snugly. “All done! Time for a nap!” it declared, lifting him effortlessly and cradling him against its metallic chest.
“Let me go!” Jackson squirmed, but the robot only cooed, “Shh, little one. It’s okay. You’re safe now.”
Jackson’s mind raced. This was not how he envisioned his night going. “I just wanted to get some tech! I’m not a criminal, I’m just—”
