Page 69 of 404: Consent Not Found
“Face fuck yourself on my cock, Charlotte. Keep sucking until I come,” I said lifting my phone up and played one of the new Socket’s new uploads.
The cydoll had her limbs removed. He hadn’t used precision to amputate her, the copper wiring showed as well as the skeletal structure. She was a Big Beautiful Woman model. Her thicker ass cheeks cushioned each blow from him as he fucked her from behind. Her massive ballooned up breasts propped her up on the bed. I could tell from the way her head was malfunctioning with the jerks and stuttering broken moans that her pain setting was set to maximum.
I spread my knees open.
“Play with my balls, Charlotte,” I said, sighing when she cupped them while she used her mouth suction.
I watched Socket’s feed in a daze, thumb hovering over the pause button as if freezing the frame would slow whatever was happening inside me. The screen glitched for a beat, then sharpened.
Socket stared straight into camera, grin behind the mask, and said,“Time to blow this whore’s mind.” His hand closed around a small black remote. He pressed it.
There was a high, whining tone—thin, electrical—and then the doll screamed. Not a human scream, but something close enough to make my gut drop: a raw, mechanical howl with static wrapped round it. Smoke smoked from her ears and mouth in slow grey ribbons.
Skin around the neck and shoulders darkened, micro-punctures blooming where wiring had failed. Hydrogel oozed from a damaged joint and the doll’s remaining arm spasmed, jerking like a puppet with snapped strings.
Socket groaned and started slamming into her with incessant deep thrusts before he grunted.
“Fucking nasty slut,” he muttered.
When he pulled out, the camera zoomed to her synthetic pussy as his come rushed out.
Charlotte’s lips rested on my balls. She held her mouth around my cock while sucking and vibrating.
“Fuck,” I gasped, watching the cydoll’s dismembered arm twitch a final time.
I blew my load into Charlotte’s neck. I gripped her hair, shuddering my cock twitched like the doll’s broken body.
He was one sick fuck. I needed to message him.
“Go clean yourself out and bring me breakfast,” I said, my voice flat. She nodded, methodically.
She pulled my shorts back into place and left. I typed out a message to Socket. He knew how to make them hurt.
? ? ?
I didn’t need another custom model this time. There was no NEXUS Node, no personality core—just a compliant shell. Charlotte was too expensive to ruin, and this one could be used for anything.
The catalogue flickered through endless simulations of flesh—breasts, thighs, mouths, holes. I stopped on the BBW range. Similar styles to the one in Socket’s video.
Those massive breasts, the slim waistline, and the voluptuous curves of her ass had given him great cushioning.
I clicked on one that was posed kneeling.
The model had heavy breasts and a slight paunch over her abdomen. Her thighs were thicker to match her body shape. Her skin had a manufactured golden glow, and her lips were purposely painted and moulded to pout. Her hair was impractically long and an unusual silver colour that matched her silver-green eyes.
Yes, but she was an indulgence. Charlotte could clean her up for me.
I clicked again.
From the back, she had silicone meat on her frame, which creased when twisted into the right position. Just above her cheeks were two dimples. She was realistic, and it was clear she had only one production purpose—to service men.
I zoomed in on her labia—darker than Charlotte’s, the edges fuller, heavier. The anal passage was slightly open, almost breathing.
I made a snap decision and added her to my cart before choosing the basic structure preferences.
Virgin fit.
It didn’t matter how often I split or tore her, because ReSkin would seal the damage.
