Kyle
Dollfucker dragged a stool to sit on before holding Charlotte’s head. I checked the camera and it was focused on the pair.
“Suck my cock like a good whore, Charlotte,” he commanded.
Charlotte rested her hands on his hips and bent down to swallow him. Anger flared inside of me for a few seconds until I remembered the second SIN cydoll I’d ordered. This time I’d gone for the blond model.
Devbotdom kneeled down and toyed with her nipples while Masterbaytor moved behind her. Charlotte grunted and I couldn't help but zoom in on Devbotdom’s fingers pinching her nipples.
“Oh, fuck she feels so warm and wet,” Masterbaytor groaned.
I took my second handheld recorder out and homed in his glistening cock as he pulled out. When he slammed back into her Dollfucker groaned.
“Yeah, fuck her harder. Her throat contracts around me,” Dollfucker said gripping her head.
Devbotdom slipped beneath Charlotte and began to suck on her nipples. I glanced at Socketsurgeon who had his hand down his waistband.
“Her arse is mine once you two are done,” he growled.
Devbotdom released her nipple with a wet smacking sound.
“You're lucky I want to try her mouth next,” he muttered before he continued to torment Charlotte’s breast sensors.
I ignored them and continued to focus on Masterbaytor hammering in and out of Charlotte’s synthetic pussy.
“Fuck, $inner. She feels so real,” he panted, gripping her hips.
All three of them took their time, rotating around her and placing her in various positions. Charlotte moaned, gagged and trembled. Socketsurgeon inspected her every movement.
“I want one like her,” Socketsurgeon said abruptly. “Money isn't a problem.”
My eyes widened. He knew what kind of tech was inside of Charlotte. I nodded before watching the foursome again. Charlotte was on her back while Masterbaytor pounded her pussy. Dollfucker was making use of her deep throat function while Devbotdom was slapping her breasts.
Slapping wet sounds filled the room and Socketsurgeon tugged his denims off. As soon as Dollfucker came in Charlotte’s mouth Devbotdom was on top of her face.
“Yeah, pretty gurl, suck me right up,” he groaned as he thrust so hard that I saw her neck bulge.
My dick was as rigid as a rock. Mastorbaytor clutched her breasts and drove deep inside her. I heard the faint vibrations as Charlotte’s hips rose to meet him.
Goddamn whore. She was enjoying herself.
I ignored Masterbaytor ejaculating inside her cunt—my cunt.
“Don’t go easy on her Socket,” I said, moving back from the camera.
He paused in unbuttoning his shirt. His eyes flashed beneath the black mask.
“You've seen what I do to my cydolls. Are you sure?”
“She was built for it. Give her everything you have,” I said confidently before I stared at Devbotdom spraying his seed into her open mouth and face.
I checked the other camera and saw that the shot had been perfect. A whirring sound had me looking up and I saw shackles attached to chains coming down from the ceiling. It was clear to see the leather neck and wrist restraints.
“Oh, damn. It’s going to be one hell of a night for Charlotte,” Dollfucker said.
“Don’t fuck her up too much. I want to use her again,” Masterbaytor said, standing up.
“Stand up, Charlotte,” Socketsurgeon barked.
She stood up with ease. My lips tightened when I saw the come on her face.
“What a nasty silicone slut. Come dripping down your legs and smeared on your face. Go to the restraints.”
I repositioned the cameras until they captured the new position.
Devbotdom moved with the ease of someone who’d done this dozens of times. He gripped Charlotte’s waist to steady her while Socket threaded the cuffs through the restraint rig bolted to the beam above. There was a hiss—hydraulics engaging—as the tension adjusted.
I watched the way her arms lifted, wrists pulled high above her head, until her heels barely kissed the ground. Her body stretched taut like a sculpture, soft silicone straining at the seams. Her breasts rose with each simulated breath. She didn’t cry out. She didn’t resist.
She blinked.
That was it.
Her dermal sensors were spiking—I could tell from the faint tremble along her thighs. The crimson collar tightened fractionally around her throat, syncing with the restraint system. Her operating system had registered full submission.
“She’s stunning like this,” Socket muttered, brushing her hair away from her face. “Look at the elasticity in that neck. This model’s tension response is god-tier.”
“She can handle it,” I said, heat curling inside me.
Devbotdom chuckled.
“She’s not going anywhere,” he said, stepping back. “Your girl’s about to dance.”
Socket didn’t hesitate. He moved behind her, lined up his first strike like he was measuring it out. Then—crack—a full swing across the curve of her arse.
She jerked in her restraints. Her feet scraped for purchase. A strangled sound left her lips—caught between gasp and moan.
Her body registered the hit as pain. But her neural pleasure routing was still live.
Which meant her cunt was pulsing with confused, corrupted signals.
Exactly what I’d programmed.
“Did you hear that?” Socket said, smiling behind the mask. “That’s your girl thanking me.”
Socket stepped close enough that his breath would’ve fogged her cheek—if she could still feel heat like a real woman. His gloved hand grazed her jawline with the handle of the whip, tender like a lover. But I knew better.
This was his ritual.
“This pretty little come-stained mouth,” he murmured, dragging the handle across her lips. “Designed for cock. Programmed to swallow. That’s what you are now, isn’t it?”
Charlotte blinked slowly, her voice soft. “Yes.”
“No. Say it properly.” He slapped her cheek—not hard, not soft. Just enough. “Repeat after me.”
He stepped back, letting her hang again, arms taut, toes barely touching the ground.
“You’re a nasty set of holes for men to use. That’s called a whore, Charlotte,” he said, tone flat and instructive—like he was reprogramming her through humiliation. “Now. What are you, Charlotte?”
I leaned forward, cock twitching, heart hammering like a war drum.
“I’m… a nasty set of holes,” she said, voice faint. “A whore. For men to use.”
My balls tightened.
Socket circled her now like a fucking priest delivering a sermon. His voice cut clean through the low, wet sounds of her breathing.
“Louder.”
“I’m a nasty set of holes,” she said again, clearer. “A whore. For men to use.”
He whipped her across the ass, fast and brutal. She cried out. I flinched—not in pity. In awe.
“That’s better,” he said. “Now thank me.”
“Thank you, sir,” Charlotte whispered.
Not Kyle. Sir.
I wasn’t jealous. I was fucking hard.
“How did she know how to call him sir?” Masterbaytor asked, shifting beside me.
“She has a self-learning instruction,” I replied, eyes locked on the screen. “But I set the parameters.”
Socket struck again—this time directly across her breasts.
The sound was sickening. Not from the force of the blow, but the reaction.
The silicone rippled, like flesh, like memory. Charlotte gasped—not from airflow, but from programmed pain. Simulated—but convincing. Her nipples stiff from the sensory feedback loop.
“Strike her on the nipples,” I said, voice calm. “There are more pain receptor sensors there. You’ll get a better response.”
Socket didn’t hesitate. The whip arced through the air and landed with a sharp, controlled snap—right across the center of her chest.
Charlotte flinched.
The slicone remained intact.
“Fuck,” Doll_fucker murmured, watching with hungry eyes. “I don’t know if that’s genius or more sadistic than Socket.”
I didn’t respond.
Because I didn’t know either.
The line had blurred so far back, I couldn’t even see it anymore.
Charlotte didn’t cry. But she blinked. Her lips parted. Her chest rose and fell in perfect rhythm. Was it simulation? Or was she adapting?
She stood restrained, her toes barely touching the floor, arms taut above her, her mouth parted in that perfect ‘O’ that made men think they were gods.
I’d handed her over to them.
Not for money.
Not even for validation.
But for proof.
Proof that she was better.
And maybe—deep down—I wanted to watch her break.
Not physically. No, that could be repaired.
“Do you know what a sadist is, whore?” Socket murmured, running the tip of the whip between her breasts, dragging it down until it rested just above her navel.
“Yes, sir,” Charlotte answered, her voice steady. But her eyes—those vivid, unblinking synthetic eyes—briefly shifted toward me.
Just a flicker.
So fast I could’ve missed it.
But I didn’t.
It was there. Not a glitch. Not a scan. A look.
A question?
A plea?
My jaw clenched. The room narrowed. My breath caught in my throat.
Was she checking for approval? Or challenging me?
No.
I shook my head. That wasn’t possible. She was in full obedience mode. The collar was active. The pain settings calibrated. She was mine.
“Eyes forward, fuckdoll,” Socket snapped, and Charlotte immediately corrected her gaze, looking dead ahead like she’d never moved at all.
But the damage was done.
My perfect little machine… had blinked at me.
Why?
Was she feeling something I hadn’t programmed?
Or was I just slipping?
My fingers twitched at my side.
The others watched in silence, caught up in the spectacle. Socket raised the whip again, this time not as a question—but as a statement.
“Say it for him,” he said. “Say what a sadist is, for your master.”
Charlotte hesitated—again—and then responded.
“A sadist… finds pleasure in my pain.”
The whip cracked.
She gasped.
I came closer to the edge of something I hadn’t yet defined.
Not pity or guilt, but something deeper and darker.
Socket stepped forward, slowly, like a predator circling prey that had already surrendered.
Charlotte’s restraints creaked. Her chest still heaved softly from the earlier strikes. She kept her gaze forward—compliant.
Socket brushed her hair behind her ear, his gloved hand unhurried, reverent in the most perverse way. He leaned in close—so close I saw her neck twitch from the subtle vibrations of his voice.
“You’ve got no idea what I’m going to do to that tight little synthetic arse of yours,” he whispered. “I’ll make it hurt. I want it to hurt.”
Charlotte didn’t move.
“I wish you didn’t self-lubricate. I’d rather you feel every fucking inch of me. Split you open. Let you beg me to stop.”
I exhaled through my nose. Slowly.
The room was silent but for the low hum of the additional lighting and the creak of restraints under strain. The others watched, hard and breathing heavier.
I wasn’t revolted or jealous. No, I was fascinated.
Something clicked in my brain—not from rage, not from jealousy… but clarity.
It wasn’t about intimacy anymore. Not even dominance.
It was about what Charlotte could feel.
How much she could endure.
I wanted her to suffer for me.
To cry out not from faulty scripting, but from raw, programmed agony. I wanted to see how far her neural core would stretch before it cracked.
Because if she could still love me after that…
“Do it,” I muttered under my breath.
Socket turned to look at me as if he’d heard.
He didn’t say a word.
He just smiled beneath his mask and moved behind her. The sick fuck didn't move, he gripped her arse and used her them to massage his cock.
“Yeah, feel my cock, whore,” he said, wrapping a hand around her throat.
“Damn,” someone whispered.
I couldn't look away even if I’d wanted to.