Chapter 2 - The Android Factory

Another commission. It's not specifically related to the last chapter, but it's cyberpunk, so it can go here.

Warnings: Moderate non-sexual gore, sexual body horror, enslavement, de-personing (objectification?)





Cyra’s morning was like any other. She woke up, jacked herself in to the Cyber House System, and downloaded her dreams of the previous night into the house’s memory so she could watch them later. She flicked through the television channels, absorbing the day’s news into her jack. She yanked the cable out of her head after fifteen seconds, which was enough to consume almost half an hour’s news, even though it was prodigiously stuffed with advertisements. Already the subdermal implants in her body were beginning to warm up as they turned on for the day, and a bead of sweat trickled down the side of her head. 

She ate quickly, a nutrient paste sucked through a tube, providing water and food in one meal, full of vitamins and minerals and everything that would keep her upright throughout the day. It was bland and tasteless but mostly inoffensive, given some mild salted meat flavor that everyone had grown used to by now. Real cows had gone extinct years ago when the skies darkened. The world was in perpetual night, now, and although solar energy had finally evolved to the point that they could have used it, the only light on the planet now was artificial, and neon. Great nuclear plants provided power to the vast cities, their locations hidden underground and not located on any map to keep them safe. At one point it was simply to keep them away from enemy bombs, but now the risk of cyberterrorism was far more immediate. The conspiracy nuts had only gotten more excited as the social and working world moved online (even the low-lifes could be high-tech), and they were able to build even larger echo chambers to froth each other up in. There were rumors of government-sanctioned kidnappings, weird human experimentation, and clandestine laboratories like a hole in the ground people disappeared into. Cyra didn’t believe a word of it, preferring to keep her concerns on the problems right before her: her boss was a prick, she wasn’t getting paid enough, and her skin itched around the exposed metal in her head… her skin itched because her mods were cheap, installed by a shitty chophouse, because she wasn’t getting paid enough, because her boss was a prick. Such is the life of a cyber girl in the modern day. She sighed, tapping her fingers on the countertop. Virtual food was way better than this nutrient slop. 

For now, it was time to go to work. One of the benefits of the cyber life: you only had to wake up ten minutes before leaving for work. Electric implants could snap you from fully-asleep to fully-awake in less than a minute, while chemical implants kept you awake through the day on a steady drip of caffeine. Virtually everything about this lifestyle was addictive, and harmful in the long term. Life expectancy was barely 45 before people’s brains burned out from the constant stimulation, but by god it was quality living while it lasted. Like having a machine that injects cocaine whenever life gets a little too hard. Cyra grinned a little as she turned up the drip for thirty seconds, giving her a drug-like sensation, just to lose herself in that hedonistic pleasure for a minute before going back to the grind of office work.

The car’s AI smoothly drove her from her apartment’s parking complex all the way to the parking area of her work building. The traffic would have been terrifying if she could have seen it, but automobiles could tint their windows all the way to pure black for exactly that reason. All the cars communicated wirelessly with each other, and they drove virtually bumper-to-bumper, switching lanes and accelerating precipitously, all without ever having a single accident thanks to the perfection of the car AIs. Not only did they have perfect communication with every other vehicle, but machines never got bored, never got tired, never got distracted, and never broke the law. The ‘perfection’ of machines was obvious in everything: all the cooks had lost their jobs, because any dumb robot could follow an ingredients list. Virtually all of the low-skilled work, like janitorial services, was now being performed exclusively by machines. Humans had to work even harder for even less pay than before, and plenty of them had to be upgraded with machines in their skulls just to keep even. Of course, robots weren’t yet able to reproduce all types of media, but there were hundreds of AIs dedicated to creating music (which was indistinguishable from human-crafted music) or creating beautiful photographic compositions, or even writing pornography!

As she cruised through the city, Cyra turned the window tint down, and was immediately hit with an eyeful of neon. The garish color made the eyes ache before too long, but the brightness was absolutely attention-grabbing. The red-light district was one place where robots couldn’t compete with human women yet. Sure, you could grab an android for $15 for half an hour, and rut away as much as you wanted while she made realistic moans, but it was the little things were offputting, like the blank stare they fixed you with, or the cold, artificial pussy made of rubber. They weren’t even close to realistically copying the subtle emotions needed for a deeper connection, although surely they were working on it. Almost all marketing was built on sex these days, one of the most basic instincts of man. Neon signs depicted naked women, writhing in the throes of passion. Mega-stripclubs the size of shopping malls were strategically located throughout the city, becoming even more popular than gambling dens. Fashion was sometimes indistinguishable from pornography, with latex bodysuits and ultra-thin leather outfits that showed off plenty of tummy and thigh. ‘Sex sells’ had never been more true, and marketing corporations never more acutely shameless in the way they sold it. 

Cyra felt a tingling in her pussy, a distant longing for more than just a quick rut. An emotional connection with somebody, what’s what she wanted.

Still, Cyra leaned back in her seat and enjoyed the complimentary virtual lapdance of a beautiful woman with taped nipples dancing on her groin. It was augmented reality, a vision beamed directly into the visual center of her brain, far more realistic even than a hologram. You didn’t need an emotional connection to appreciate a lap dance, and as she reached her hands out to grab the naked woman’s hips, tactile feedback in her gloves actually made her feel like she was really touching her.

The car pulled into the parking garage, and Cyra banished the dancing woman with a mental command, while the chemical implant began rapidly rebalancing her system to drain the arousal from her cunt and from her brain. By the time she exited the car, she was merely bored, ready for another dreary day at the office. As she stepped into the elevator, she only hoped Anna wouldn’t feel the need to drop in today.

Unfortunately, Anna apparently not only felt the need to see Cyra at her cubicle, she felt the need to enter the elevator with her. Anna Lancaster, her boss, was a real piece of work. She was aggressive, pushy, lustful and forward—and that was just her business strategy. In person, she was even worse. “Hey gorgeous,” Anna said, leaning on the wall with an arm outstretched. “How’s it going, hot stuff?”

Cyra cringed. Anna was known for firing people she didn’t get along with. “Fine,” Cyra said, folding her arms over her chest, which was pretty small to begin with, so she didn’t have to worry about pushing her tits up for her boss to ogle. Why did Anna bother her to begin with, anyway? Everyone knew the boss lady loved huge fake tits, so why did she insist on hitting on the flattest woman in the company? “How are you?” she didn’t return an epithet, although Anna had seen fit to append two in barely two sentences. 

“I’m great, now that you’re here,” Anna chuckled, running her hand over Cyra’s arm. Cyra glanced over, sparing a moment of eye contact just to ensure she didn’t come off as totally ignoring her. “Hey,” she said, as if they’d just had a good, long, five-minute conversation and she wished to change the subject,” are you doing anything tonight?”

Cyra closed her eyes tight, then forced them open so it was less obvious that she was cringing again. “No,” she said, “But I’m taking the night for myself. No friends and stuff.”

“That’s a shame,” Anna pouted. “I wanted to invite you out for drinks and get to know you better.”

“I guess it’ll have to be another time!” Cyra said, quickly stepping out of the elevator as the doors opened on the sixty-second floor. She wiped sweat from her forehead, and not just because her implants were hot.

* * *

The day was straightforward after that. Cyra went about the business of business, interacting with her coworkers only when she had to (and, on her break, sharing the story of Anna nearly molesting her on the elevator with one of her closer friends using text chat, they had a nice laugh about it). She was just beginning to pack up for the day when Anna showed up again at her cubicle entrance and rested her arms on the walls, appearing natural, but also subtly blocking her exit. “Hey doll,” she said, as if they had been girlfriends for a month, “You change your mind about going out tonight?”

Cyra grunted softly. “Um, nope, I’m just gonna have the evening in tonight.”

“Suit yourself,” Anna sighed, turning her palms up to the ceiling in a gesture of defeat. “Just don’t say I didn’t give you a better offer,” she said, and turned away.

A better offer? Think I definitely made the right choice, Cyra thought, sliding her coat back on and heading for the elevator.

She entered her car, and put some music on.

She closed her eyes.

The car accelerated out of the parking garage and drove, as normally, for fifteen minutes.

Then everything went black. 

* * *

The next thing Cyra knew, she was in great pain, covered in dirt and blood, and lying fifteen feet from her car. The front of the car was wrapped around a metal pole by the side of the road well outside the city. She’d hit the pole so hard that she went right through the windshield. Her heart was hammering like mad even despite the chemical implant trying its best to regulate her adrenaline levels. The car was totalled and she was in a bloody mess. What the fuck was going on? She’d… actually gotten in a car accident? The car AIs were legendary, they had never gotten in an accident. Even more bizarre, there was no indication whatsoever of another car nearby, so it couldn’t have been a faulty communication with another vehicle. Not only that, she hadn’t even felt the car try to brake before ploughing into the post. Or maybe she’d just been hit so hard that her short-term memory was fucked. Maybe the car had swerved to avoid a pedestrian? But there was nobody like that around, either. People didn’t walk around outside of cities in the modern day, it simply didn’t happen. Everyone was too busy coking themselves stupid in the neon districts.

The worst part? This was nowhere near where her house. The car had driven out into the middle of the country for no reason and crashed. She cradled her head, blood pouring down her fingers, her whole body throbbing in pain, although the headache was subsiding slightly as the implant pumped morphine into her veins, giving her a light-headed sensation despite the obvious danger she was in.

Even addled by morphine, she could tell that she wasn’t in danger because of the accident, but because of what the accident meant. Someone had reprogrammed her car to do this. 

Her suspicion was confirmed when she heard a siren. It was here too quickly, she’d been driving for at least a few minutes outside the city. They wouldn’t even have had time to jump in the emergency vehicle by now. Whoever this was, it wasn’t the real medical services. Cyra tried to crawl away, but her arms and legs felt like jelly under the haze induced by morphine. She fell onto her side and just lay breathing, her basic faculties leaving her body one by one as the seconds passed.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” a voice said, the audio swimming in haze. “You’re safe now, you’re going to come with us and we’ll bring you to a hospital.”

“No,” Cyra slurred, trying to flop out of the woman’s arms, gaining a measure of focus for a moment as her sense of danger peaked and a fresh wave of adrenaline rushed over her. She fought hard, biting whatever she could.

“I need some help over here!”

In seconds, Cyra felt herself grabbed by another few pairs of arms, and the sharp pain of a needle jabbing into her neck. Five seconds later she was unconscious.

The adrenaline kept waking her up, but just for scattered moments at a time. She managed to get her eyes open long enough to feel her feet dragging along the ground. Not the kind of thing a real EMT would do, since a real ambulance would have a stretcher. She felt them slide her pants off, her pussy exposed to the air. The next time she opened her eyes, someone without a face was standing in front of her with a wicked-looking device shaped almost like a jackhammer, but instead of a piercing head, it had a strange cutting tool, circular and serrated. She closed her eyes again, and lost consciousness for another few seconds, waking to an excruciating pain in her groin. “Go on, this bit and the head, nothing else matters,” someone said distantly as blood spurted and the serrated edges clawed into her body, crudely separating her cunt and her womb from the rest of her.

The next device was more obvious in its implementation, a machine that resembled a can opener the size of her head. Out the corner of her eye she saw her mutilated pussy pushed into a stasis jar that would keep it fresh. She started to struggle, but the machine swiftly bit into her neck and she felt the spurting of warm blood a circular saw cut into her throat, sliced her jugular, and finally pressed against her neck bone with a furious whine. She felt the operator press it a little harder into the bone, and swore she could feel, just for a fraction of a second, the moment the bone gave way and the saw sliced through her spinal cord. Then she felt nothing, nothing except a feeling of inexplicable lightness as she saw herself quickly carried away from a headless body, blood pumping from her severed arteries as her heart tried to supply blood to a brain that was no longer there. Ironically it only made her body bleed out faster. It twitched and pulsed, muscles in her legs tightening, fingers twisted into claws. The last thing she saw was her back arching, then her body fell down and lay still.

Cyra was unable to stop them from throwing her into a similar stasis jar, a vat of blue chemicals that burned her eyes and her neck. The fluid quickly turned a vicious red as her blood left her body through her severed major arteries, and a light-headedness returned again as her blood pressure dropped from near-zero to zero. She was sure she’d never wake again.

There was no sense of time passing before she woke up again, perfectly awake and completely clear-minded. This definitely felt like a chemically-induced wakeup. Who knew how long she’d been out? She’d had a weird dream about a car accident. It was very vivid, and she remembered being terrified for her life just before passing out.

…passing out? You didn’t fall asleep when you were already in a dream… 

She tried to sit up, only to find herself restrained. She looked down, and realized that, no, she wasn’t restrained at all. She simply couldn’t move.

She simply no longer had a body.

Cyra’s mouth dropped open and she tried to let out a gasp or a scream, but without lungs, nothing came out. This was no ordinary organ harvesting operation. Those people didn’t give a shit for preserving the life of the ‘organ donor.’ This was something far worse. This was beyond medicine, this was mad science. Her instinct was to writhe, and she did, only able to move her stump of a neck, and only barely. The skin pressed against something. She was still in a jar, although the fluid was as transparent as water, and she had stopped bleeding. More than likely, the odd, hard feeling on her neck was a small artificial heart that was pumping this clear fluid into her brain. The idea that there wasn’t blood inside her, but something else, was troubling. 

But more troubling was the idea that, worse than death, she had probably been declared dead at the scene. She’d disappeared into a hole in the ground, one she’d never come out of, experimented on until she finally expired from exhaustion. It was hard to say how much time passed, and she would have been profoundly bored were it not for the existential nightmare she found herself in. She could blink, look around, and wiggle her ears. Not much beyond that.

And yet it was, in the strangest way, almost freeing. She’d never have to worry about her job again. Money. Food. Pleasure. No doubt her life would be nightmarish, but she tried to focus on what few upsides there were. Without her body, she could be responsible for nothing and nobody, including herself. It was almost freeing. Then her nose started to itch, and she scowled again, reminded of the reality beneath the blissful, childlike dream she’d caught herself up in.

“Having fun?” a familiar voice came from behind her, and she couldn’t turn to view it. There was a glasslike thump as a hand came down to rest on her jar, and she looked up to see a white laboratory smock. The angle was too extreme for her to get a look at her face, but the next time she spoke, she had apprehended the person’s identity. “I imagine it’s quite a strange sensation. I wonder what you must be feeling. Or do you feel nothing at all, you cold bitch?”

Cyra shivered. Anna was behind all of this? She was much more rich than Cyra thought. Or perhaps she’d just fronted the money (and the body...) for some kind of experiment. But why would she go to all this trouble to get back at one employee who refused to sleep with her? Killing her was one thing, this was another.

Then Cyra saw before her a hole open up in the floor, and something rising before her vision. It looked like a set of human ribs, but it had clearly been machined. The material was something like fiberglass, glistering silver-white. It rose to chest-level and stopped. “We’re going to have some fun together, you and I,” Anna said, “when I paid for this, I insisted I be the one to assemble you, so here we go!”

Assemble me…?

“We threw your body in the trash once we’d gotten what we needed,” Anna said feverishly. “Tossed out like worthless parts, kept what was important. These organs aren’t your originals, but they’re based on the real thing so you don’t have to worry about rejection sickness.” The room supplied Anna with an artificial heart, which she pushed into place behind the sternum. Lungs came next, which immediately began to breathe in and out creepily. Plenty of ‘blood’ was dripping, but it was the clear stuff which was much less distressing. The lower section snapped into place just as easily. “Simplified, too,” she said. “Much more efficient. These organs can even get energy from cum,” she smiled. “Like mine.”

And there it was. Cyra had been kidnapped to be remade as a sex slave android. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much she could do about it. She was forced to watch as Anna quickly built a living android body out of spare parts. She felt sick to her stomach… she didn’t have a stomach. The unbuilt android stood before her, the skeleton constructed of dark blue, almost-black metals; the skin (such as it was) white plastic or pseudoflesh. White was the dominant color: her skin had an unhealthy, blood-drained pallor that reflected too much light from the fluorescent lamps above. In that harsh, artificial light, she appeared to be glowing.

“Now we’re going to switch it on and see how you feel,” Anna said, waving her hand up at a pane of glass, the observation room. Cyra bucked, feeling electricity running through her veins. A moment later, she could feel the body as if it were her own, even though it was on the other side of the room. “Nice, right?” Anna said. “Very realistic. And quite… customizable. You were pretty when you were alive, but I’m going to make you even more beautiful so you can be my robotic cumdump for years to come.”

Anna crafted the rest of the skeleton one piece at a time. Whenever a piece snapped loudly into place, Cyra felt an intense pain, like getting hit in the funny bone. She tried moving her arms, which only went down to the elbow, and saw them flop uselessly. The servos of her shoulders were exposed, and the plastic and pseudoflesh didn’t cover it fully. It seemed like she’d still look exactly like a commercial android when this was over. The kind of thing you’d find working in an assembly line… although more beautiful. There were still many gaping holes where parts would be added, particularly the concave chest, which looked disturbing with the exposed metal parts. “We didn’t bother keeping your real tits,” Anna said. “They were small and pathetic; we’ll be giving you a major upgrade.” Cyra just frowned. There was a large, shaped hole in her groin, too, with rifling on the sides. Presumably, her junk would just screw into that hole.

The rest of the arms came next, each piece snapping into place with a violent jarring of her nerve-endings (or whatever they were now). Perhaps most upsetting is how Anna chose to keep her connected so she could feel all this pain and discomfort. She winced as the woman started attaching her fingers, one at a time, with painful slowness, crack crack crack crack. One by one, she curled her fingers in, experimenting with her new body. Having nothing to move but her arms felt extremely strange, and on a whim, she reached up and tried to feel for her head. Her hands found nothing but empty space where it should be, and she trembled, fingers clawing up as her muscles tightened in fear. 

“Settle down,” Anna commanded, and Cyra felt her arms go limp, all muscle control leaving her. Anna smiled. “Vocal commands. You aren’t a person anymore, you’re my property. I have the right to control you as I like,” she explained. She attached the thighs, then the ankles, then the feet, which mercifully had all the toes attached already, so she didn’t have to go through another gruelling set of ten kicks to the funny bone before she wiggled them around, finding them functional. 

“That’s most of the unimportant stuff,” Anna said, stepping back to admire the headless drone. 

It looked fucking creepy from where Cyra was standing, hunched a little forward in its restraints, its arms hanging down. And yet she could also feel everything about it, feel the slight air pressure on her skin, the subtle heat of the room. She could never have explained how it felt, except perhaps that she existed in two bodies simultaneously. Part of her, perhaps her emotional part, considered her head to be her real body, and was pretending that there was a body underneath it giving feedback. The logical part of her said that what was standing before her was her real body, and that only her eyes had been relocated, like looking at yourself through a camera. These two perspectives fought for control inside her, and she felt queasy again. Can you put my head on, she tried to say, but she only moved her lips, for she had no lungs to power the words. Anna laughed at her. “Soon you’ll be united with this. But first it’s time for the most important part,” she said, licking her lips before selecting two obscene matching breasts from the rack. They wobbled realistically in her hands, although the porcelain-white color told her, thankfully, that they were not real. Instead, they had little plugs on the back, similar to a lightbulb. She watched as Anna screwed them into place, and felt as they settled on her chest; a sudden weight, a feeling of her boobs hanging down from gravity and resting on her torso. She watched Anna stand behind her, felt her hands sliding up her body, then cried out as Anna crudely groped her fresh, virgin breasts. They were sensitive, her nipples painfully raw as Anna squeezed them. The girl wasn’t kind with her touches, although distantly she could feel Anna’s erection pressing against her unprotected ass. “I’m going to be taking you for a test drive,” the woman warned, licking Cyra’s shoulder, which made her shiver. 

Anna pulled away slowly, then stood a step apart. “Bend over and show your asshole to yourself,” she said, and Cyra couldn’t disobey for even a second. She felt her shoulders turn, but not her head, which was startling. Everything felt weird like this. She watched… felt… the robot turn, bend over at the waist, and pull her ass cheeks apart, revealing another identical plug-in hole between them. Anna wiggled, pleased with herself. “I could give you two pussies… One for when I breed you, and one for when I don’t want to look at your face. But then again, I could use the tightness of your asshole gripping my cock while you cry in pain…” she tapped her chin in thought. Then she smiled. “I think the normal arrangement will do fine. I almost forgot the best part,” she said, producing one plug-in pussy that was obviously fake, and one that was… obviously… horrifyingly, real. “They cut that part out of you too. And kept your womb, so you could bear my children. Isn’t that exciting? You can still be a mother. No other sex android can make that sort of claim.” 

Cyra groaned, horrified at the idea that she’d be saddled with a baby for nine months, and then untold years of care for it. She’d find some way to kill herself, first.

She winced as Anna screwed an asshole attachment in, and then placed her old, proper human pussy (now mounted into a plug-in) between her legs, and spun it until it stuck. She shuddered as she felt Anna’s fingers dancing around her pussy, which was the only thing on her body made of human flesh. It felt tender and sore, but she also felt it gush. She struggled to get control over it, but she couldn’t help but feel wildly aroused.

“That’s right. As my sex-slave, you’ve been programmed to respond positively to my touch.” Anna glomped onto her body again, this time with her bottoms off. She tilted the body backwards and pushed her exposed cock through Cyra’s legs, curling upwards to throb at the precipice of her cunt. “I hope you enjoy this,” she said, before pushing her cock up past Cyra’s lips, spreading them apart. The android bucked, her eyes clenching shut, and a soundless groan on her lips. Anna’s hands grasped her tits again, harshly, and began groping the hell out of them, while muttering a steady stream. “You like that, don’t you? You like having huge tits. You like looking like a sextoy. Don’t worry, I spent millions of dollars to turn you into my personal fuckbot.” Anna seemed lost without Cyra’s neck to suck on, which was the obvious choice for her lips when she wasn’t teasing and insulting. Instead she stared straight across the room into Cyra’s eyes, and Cyra could see from her expression how close she was to cumming.

Fuck… you, Cyra mouthed, and Anna faltered for a moment, then refocused before going balls-deep and grunting. Cyra felt hot cum splurt into her insides, sticky goo sliding down her walls. She watched the shemale’s balls clench up as she pushed sperm into her reattached cunt, and she watched Anna herself go into ecstasy, her face tightening, her breath becoming ragged, timed with every thrust. It looked like she was in pain. White cream dribbled from Cyra’s lips, and her eyes looked down at the floor.

Anna was breathing slowly for almost a minute before she cleared her throat and settled. “We’re almost done,” she said gently, walking on clacking heels over to Cyra, then running her fingers possessively through the girl’s hair. “But we still need to get rid of this little head of yours.”

“What—” Cyra breathed, before she felt a hard suction on the back of her head, and her brain was yanked out. 

The next time she opened her eyes, she heard a click. She blinked, and it clicked again. Her eyelids were plastic. She reached up and touched her face with her hands, noticing that they were white plastic. A wave of relief washed over her as she found her head on her body again. She never wanted to experience that again. Her fingertips tingled as they brushed through long, silky hair. She pulled it before her, seeing that they had given her long blonde hair with the new artificial head. She stood upright, and saw that Anna, desiring Cyra to see herself in the mirror, had left one in the room. 

She felt her organs sink as she gazed at herself. It was unmistakable. Her movements mirrored the person behind the glass perfectly, and her blood ran cold as she continued to touch her new body in horror. There was nothing left of her except… her brain and her womb. Her other organs had been harvested, and the remaining parts probably disposed of in a dumpster. She was nothing but a sex android now.

“No,” she said, whirling around, spotting the door, and running to it. She wrapped her pseudoflesh fingers around the knob and turned it, then flung it open. Before she could take a step, she looked up to see Anna standing there. She snarled and leapt at the woman with murderous intent, only to go crashing to the ground before she could lay a hand on her, her muscles seizing up, shocks of electricity running painfully through her body like she’d been tazed.

“That’s what you get,” Anna said, stepping past the android into the room. “Follow me and get on the bed,” she said. Cyra couldn’t resist, her limbs moved for her, and soon she found herself on the bed and rolled over with her legs spread. Anna had vigorous, passionless sex with her cunt, eventually silencing her with another command when Cyra tried to insult her in every way she could think of. The android grimaced. It was difficult. It was like being locked in her own body. But she wouldn’t give in. She had more strength than that. She would outlast Anna’s patience, and then she would be let go.

* * *

One day, Anna announced that she was “Tired of using your ragged old pussy. I think it’s time for a part-swap to keep things fresh.” Cyra had been so insubordinate that Anna had eventually to give a command that permanently silenced the android, and so she had returned once again to the world of being gagged and helpless, as she had been when she was just a head; so, Cyra sat quietly on the bed, with her hands folded in front of her, waiting for what fresh hell her owner would unleash on her.

It began simply. Anna walked up and stripped Cyra naked, leaving her feeling cold and vulnerable. Being owned property meant having no autonomy, meant never being in control of what you were doing, or what happened to you. Her powerlessness was taxing. Eventually she had stopped trying to kill Anna, finding that Anna didn’t even have to give an order to stop her. It was hard-wired into her system to be unable to hurt her, or hurt herself, or disobey an order. So the cool breeze of the table fan curled around her naked body, making her shiver.

Anna got down on one knee and gazed up into the human pussy she’d been so ruthlessly fucking for the last twelve months. “How does it feel?” she said, reaching up and pressing her fingers to the sides, unlocking the mechanism, and beginning to screw her vagina out. “Knowing that one of the two human parts remaining to you is going to be thrown in the trash like garbage,” she said. “Maybe if you’re lucky, they’ll find a way to make a decent sex robot who doesn’t throw things around the room unless she’s specifically ordered not to. Then I can throw your brain out too and just keep having sex with your body… I said, how does it feel?”

Cyra cleared her throat, finding she could speak again. “Whatever you say.” Anna stood up, and slapped her harshly enough to make her twist at the waist. Wordlessly she took out a new attachment, a floppy little penis. Cyra went a little farther. “Did you carve this out of some poor girl like you—” her mouth clamped shut as her programming detected insubordination. 

“Yes, it’s real,” Anna gushed, sinking back down. “Some Indian girl,” she said, turning the brown, uncircumcised penis over in her hands. “I still have contacts in the facility where I built you. It turns out that there is not much demand for human penises compared to hearts and other organs, so they have plenty.”

Cyra grimaced as Anna screwed it in, the balls flopping gently as it spun. Then with a click, it settled into place, and suddenly she could feel everything. A dull ache in her shaft, a bad one in her testicles. “It’s very sore,” she whispered. “Please… give me a few hours to get used to it before you—”

Anna gagged her again with the snap of her fingers. “Quiet, meat. And stay still.” She pushed Cyra back on the bed, the robot’s servos freezing in place at the command not to move. It had taken a while before this body began to feel like ‘her own’ once again, but now that her owner was getting more aggressive with the binding orders, she had begun to feel as if she was merely a passenger, not the captain of the ship.

Anna climbed up on the bed and took her position above her sex droid. She cooed as she ran her hand over the balls, then the shaft. Cyra gasped as she felt it begin to stiffen, the curious sensation of a new piece of meat rising up between her legs. Anna threw the pussy into the trash, where it clattered and rolled around in a can full of week-old garbage. “I think I’m going to be using this a lot,” she said confidently, nudging her balls into the tip of Cyra’s new penis. She continued to hover over her for a moment, rubbing her nuts on the tip until Cyra found herself leaking a bead of precum. Anna smeared the bead off on her finger, not being gentle with Cyra’s urethra as she did. She gazed at the pearlet for a moment, then popped it in her mouth. “Mmmm.” 

Cyra felt her balls clench slightly. Having no prostate, she couldn’t cum properly. But those nuts were surely filled with some kind of substitute, not real sperm. Surely. Probably. It was hard to tell. “Oh, it’s the real thing,” Anna said, wiping another bead off on Cyra’s rubber lips, letting her taste it. “It won’t last long, we’ll have to harvest more sperm for you to shoot every now and then. But like I said, penises aren’t in high demand. I could even install new balls for you now and then,” she giggled.

At last, Anna leaned herself forward, the tip of Cyra’s cock sliding down her balls, her taint, and between her thighs. “Oooh.” It slipped softly up to her crinkled asshole, and Cyra could feel her owner’s heartbeat through the ultra-sensitive skin. She look at Anna, who bit her lip, then came down hard, slurping her 5 inch Indian cock into her butt.

Cyra felt, for just a moment, her foreskin slide back. Then it was pain as Anna’s unlubed asshole swallowed her cock. Thank god it was on the smaller side and she only had to endure five inches of it. Cyra gritted her teeth, her eyes wincing. Anna somehow didn’t seem to be bothered. Then again Cyra had seen her play with her butt with plenty of toys over the years (forced to watch as she was). “That’s right,” Anna purred, still on her fours, moving her ass on Cyra’s groin, her warm cheeks sliding over the robot’s pseudoflesh. She nudged her booty to Cyra’s nuts and the android groaned again. 

And so they continued. Astonishingly, Cyra found that she could actually feel when she bumped up against Anna’s prostate. It was a pleasant-feeling nub in her rear, reminding her very faintly of a clit with how it moved against her cock. Anna was sure to polish her own button plenty, using Cyra’s cock as a dildo to pleasure herself, and soon sweat was dripping down her owner’s forehead. “I’m unlocking the restraints,” Anna said through clenched teeth. “But you know you still can’t hurt me. I just want… just, for once, to actually have you have sex with me instead of lying there like a doll.”

Cyra’s fingers twitched. Without a thought, she moved them to Anna’s body, and held her waist. It felt good, her thumbs and fingers wrapped around those curves while her owner moved around on top of her.

Despite everything, it hadn’t been too hard to get used to the idea of having an owner. It was true after all. Besides, having to take her orders for this long had gotten her accustomed to the sensation. And it did feel good to be unshackled.

More than that, Anna had rarely been so forward with her. Cyra had always sensed that Anna had wanted to have some kind of emotional relationship, beyond just sex. And, as much as she hated to admit it, she wanted that too. It was hard just sitting in a room waiting for her owner to get horny and pound her for a while. Anna had never really displayed any form of equality in the relationship, this was the first time she’d ever bottomed for her, although she was still the dominant of course. It… felt good. Her hands on those hips. Her cock in her tight, flexing rear. Cyra even let out a breath of pleasure for the first time in a very long time.

“Is this what it took to unlock your emotional circuits?” Anna laughed, but not cruelly. Cyra watched a bead of sweat trickling down Anna’s forehead. “All I had to do was give you a penis? What do you think? You like it?”

“I… like it,” Cyra said, experimentally flexing her groin, making her cock bop the edge of Anna’s button. “It feels good being inside you.”

“This feels good too,” Anna said, rolling her hips now, but then pulling away and leaving Cyra’s cock pulsing gently in the air. “I think you’ve earned this,” she said, stepping over and getting a bottle of lube.

Cyra gasped in surprise at the very cold sensation of the lube squirting onto her new dick. The white cream mixing with the brown skin looked strange to her eyes, and Anna’s fingers on her penis making wet schlk noises couldn’t help but make her more excited than before. 

And then Anna was atop her again, sliding her slick cock up into her ass, and this time Cyra’s eyes clenched with an explosion of pleasure. She grunted, clapping her hands to her owner’s hips once again, and this time, moving with her. The two women began to make love as they had never done before, Anna making Cyra her equal, and Cyra doing her best to ignore what had happened in the past. Anna rode her mercilessly, and there was pain for both of them, but the android’s meat was well-suited to sliding in and out of such a trained hole, her balls gently clapping Anna’s cheeks as they went.

Before long, Cyra found herself on top of Anna, her owner on her knees, her fingers curling as she grabbed the bedsheets before her; her cheek was pressed to the bed and her eyes were closed as Cyra clumsily pushed at her prostate, finally reaching around to tug her owner’s dick. Every time she pushed the button, she felt it pulse in her fingers. 

“I’m cumming,” Anna said softly, then stuck her knuckle between her teeth and bit down hard, suppressing a scream of pleasure as she nutted onto the bed. Cyra watched, fascinated, as her owner’s body shuddered, back arched, and warm cum splattered in thin strings, even a few on Cyra’s mechanical thighs.

* * *

Anna lay on her back, panting softly, rubbing Cyra’s head as the android lay between her legs, gently slurping and sucking on her cock. But now, once again, she was merely servicing her. There was no physical pleasure, although she wouldn’t deny that there was some emotional satisfaction from cleaning a nice, musky shaft with her tongue. But did that really make up for everything Anna had done to her? The more she licked and sucked, tonguing her balls, the harder it became to pull her mind away from it. The torture, the maiming, the enslavement. Suddenly, shockingly, she realized her opening. She tried not to think about it more than she possibly could, in case her automated programming picked it up before she could do it.

“Mistress?” she said quietly, licking Anna’s cock tip.

“Yes?”

“Have I earned an orgasm?” she said.

“Yes, I suppose you have. Many long months without one, you must be needy. Yes, pleasure-slave, you may cum.” She said it without fear or anxiety. She had dropped her guard, for once, at last.

Just as Anna said it, Cyra felt a heat building in her core as her body fired up an automatic orgasm. Before it overcame her, she shoved her cruel owner’s cock in her mouth, and then, fired by the excruciating pleasure of a months-overdue climax, bit down hard with her teeth.

Her body, sensing the action as one of pleasure, not of malice, did not stop her metal teeth from sinking deep into Anna’s flesh, instantly crushing her penis as flat as paper. There was a burst of salty flavor and an earsplitting scream as Cyra tore it away, leaving behind a blood-gushing stump.

* * *

Three days later, Cyra made it onto the evening news. It was a short piece, simply stating “Police have found a discarded android near the edge of town. Its power core was violently removed, and its memory card was wiped.” The police report never mentioned that they found human parts in the android, and she was disposed of in the way all broken androids are, in a trash compactor.






