Light Rays Coming Out of the Computer Ch. 01

"Do I?"

I turn and peek around the corner. He's already chatting up a miniscule blond who'd been next to me at the bar. I kick down the door as I barge into the bathroom. I barely recognize the person in front of me as I stand at the sink. So weak. What are you crying about? That man!? How is he worth this much emotion? How are any of them worth this much emotion? The timer in the corner of my display ticks down to zero. Fuck 'em. Fuck 'em all.

"That's the spirit!" my clit cheers.

I frown at my groin in the mirror as I tap my wrist a few times and wait. It's not two minutes before the tiny redhead peeks her head in, looking for the hunter. I'm glad it's her.

***

"YES YES YES YES YES!! YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSS!!" The only upside I've ever found to my clit being less sensitive is that it gives me some pretty serious stamina. "OH DEAR GOD YESSSS! Ohhhh god yes. Fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck yes... Fucking hell I needed that..." The mousy girl in front of me hangs her head and pants through her third orgasm. I wince a little as I pull out and step back to give her some room to breath, but she stays bent over the toilet for a good thirty seconds cursing up a storm. My mother always said anything worth doing is worth doing right.

"I got one more in me before I pop, Frey." My clit is panting too. "Let's make it count."

"Thank you soooo much," she says as she rolls her hips and adjusts her panties, still pulled to the side over her cheek. "You can put it in my ass if you want..."

"Her bush was adorable, Frey. You shoulda seen it!"

She's really short. Even with her in her heels I'm way too tall, so I had to kick off my shoes. My clit is still sloppy-wet, so once I get myself lined up, I break through her back door with a hard thrust. She frantically adjusts her hands to brace herself better, and giggles.

"OhmyGod... Weshould... Dothis... Every... Night!!" My clit is in heaven. Of course, if my legs had voices, they'd be screaming bloody murder.

***

"Whistle while you work!"

"Get some new material," I grumble. I'm just putting the finishing touches on the Ani-Skin over her labia majora. Every one of them ends up unique thanks to a randomize function my guy helped me put in for the Ani-skin printer. This one is particularly pretty.

"Looks good enough to eat," my clit chimes in.

"You guys are just... trotting out the hits today, huh?"

"C'mon Frey, cut us some slack! We're trying to make you feel better!"

I sigh. "Sorry. Some days, I'm just... not a good conversationalist."

"That's not gonna stop us. You know that, right?" Now the current job is talking to me too. Great. I gotta find a room with no objects in it. Of course, then the voices go back to being disembodied like when I was a kid. That was... worse. So much worse.

"Yeah, I know."

"Then buck up, little soldier! This is happening. We're here." Although the Synth hasn't actually moved, there's a tone of a smile in her voice.

"It's not about you guys. I... I don't want to talk about it. Now could you please switch off so I can get you the rest of the way built? You're like... 2 hours from being done if I can just focus."

"Fair enough."

"Freeee-yaaa! You have a cus-tom-eeeerrrrrrrr!"

"Sexbot!" three left hands chime in together.

"We haven't even seen..." I trail off after hitting the display button as a tall, shaggy black-haired, chin-like-a-Vid-star man reluctantly peeks around the storefront.

"I want to change my vote," the hands say.

"Yeah, heeeeee's here for you, Frey."

"What?" I scoff. "You guys are nuts."

"Uh... duh!"

"No way," I say. "This time I'm guessing sexbot."

"Whoa," says the Synth on the wall. "What a reversal folks!"

"The betting is locked," shouts the current job.

"Hello sir! Welcome to Midgard Custom Synthetics Boutique, a division of the Charot Corporation. How can I assist you?"

"Yes, uh... I think this is the right place. Can I... uh... speak to the owner?" The crowd around me erupts in a mixture of hoots, hollers, and cat calls.

"No," I say into my earpiece as I get up and start tapping at my wrist. The peanut gallery erupts in disbelief, but I keep my eye on the feed from Frannie.

"I'm sorry, sir, but the owner is not available at the present time!"

"Oh. Um... so is the ordering... um... confidential?"

"WAIT," shouts the tipped-over head. "We may have a false start!"

"Absolutely," Frannie sings. "Our Terms of Service strictly prohibits the sharing, selling, or viewing of customer information of any kind. I can forward you a copy of the pertinent sections if you would like?"

"No, that's alright." He's sweating.

"It would be no troub-"

"I said no, alright?!"

"Of course, sir!"

He pauses to compose himself. "So, like, how does thi-"

I focus past the hologram, and the display and audio winks out. I look down at the sexbot jar. 58,000 credits. I've never won anything and felt so shitty. I grab the jar and hurl it against the wall. The peanut gallery gasps in shock as the thick plastic cracks in half.

"It's ok," says a slumped-over male Synth. "The card is ok!" The collective relieved sighs, had they been caused by actual lungs, would have produced a light wind.

"Back to one," I say coldly, as I settle in.

***

I wake up stiff. Even when it's indirect, fluorescent lighting is harsh on the eyes. The new Synth is standing in her place by the door, awaiting pickup. I wince as I sit up in my office chair, and tap the display button on my earpiece. What's next... Job queue, job queue... male escort Synth repair, and then... shit. A rush job for a Synth for this Mr. Kerr Shaughnessey. I bring up the order to see... what... what he...

"Whoooooooa..." The entire peanut gallery crowds around me. "Freya, he-"

"Isn't that-"

"Why would he..."

***

"I mean, that's ridiculous, right? Why would he order a Synth of me from me? It's gotta be coincidence." I stab my salad like it's offended me. "It's ridiculous."

"Sweetie, he's trying to ask you out. How did you first describe him?"

"Witty, direct, and unexpected," I say sullenly.

"Granted, not direct, but two out of three?"

"That's 66%, Jeanne."

"Look, I think it's adorable. If I were in your shoes, I'd be flattered! He ordered you! I mean, even down to the clit!"

"He did order the clit," I say, staring off.

***

"20 minutes!" The tipped-over Synth head's excitement is probably just a reflection of my own.

"If I have to wait another day," says the escort Synth, "the old ball and chain isn't gonna care!"

"You... you think?"

"Just tell her I have a faulty whozit, and it'll take another day for it to come in!" I stare at the clock for a few seconds. "Go!"

"Ok!" I do a quick check to make sure everyone is switched off, and run into the half-bath. My hair and makeup are still looking good... maybe a quick touch up on the left eeeeyeeeee aaaaaaaaand...

"He'll never know what hit him," my clit says.

"Thank you," I say reflexively, and then pause. "I mean it. Thank you."

"We're all pulling for you, Frey!"

The entire peanut gallery joins in, adding their well wishes in a rush as I strip out of my coveralls. My best lingerie, a black lace number, looks odd underneath as I'm getting out, but fits in a much more coordinated fashion once I put on the red negligee I brought with me.

The crowd hushes as I hang the string across the middle of the back room and toss a large sheet over it, dividing the workspace from the bed I keep in the corner for the really long nights. I flick on a couple LED votives and set them around the room. Candles would be better, but they're absurdly expensive. Another quick pass through the back room, making sure the pathway is clear so he doesn't trip on a wrench and ruin everything.

"Frannie," I say, touching the broadcast button on my earpiece, "make sure you lock up the storefront after Mr. Shaughnessey arrives. No interruptions."

"Of course, Freya!"

I crawl onto the bed, crossing it on my knees, and rearrange the collection of pillows. I lay down on my back, and try to picture how he'll see me as he comes in. No... I move around to lay on my side... head propped up on my hand. Knees... bent? maybe... Left knee bent, right foot extended?

I try a few more, but nothing works better than that before I hear the soft chime in my earpiece.

"Frannie gave the signal," my clit shouts. "Everybody shut up!"

"Everyone heard the signal," one of the votives replies. "You're not the boss."

"Hey! I'm just tryin to help!"

"Ladies," I say firmly. I calmly reach up, remove the earpiece, and set it on the aging toolbox I use as a nightstand.

"Through here?" Kerr's voice, coming from just behind Frannie, is curious.

"Yes," Frannie replies. "Straight through."

Butterflies. Huge butterflies, with wings 30 feet from end to end, as I listen to his footsteps across the room, coming closer. Closer... Closer... I take a deep breath, puffing out my meager chest and-

He throws the sheet aside and stares down at me. It's all I can do to keep eye contact. God, he's gorgeous. Remain calm. Stay calm.

"Wow," is all he says. His head whips back, looking around behind him. "She left you all alone, didn't she?" My lips crack to answer, but the words just don't quite come before he turns back to me and... Dear God. I melt all over again. "Awwww."

I can barely bring myself to breath as he removes his jacket and tosses it over my stool. He has shoulders, and as he unbuttons his shirt, I whimper. "You can talk! Good." He mumbles as he continues, "Not that you're going to be doing much of it tonight."

My head quirks. Something about the way he... but then he plants one knee on the bed, bare chested. My eyes fixate on the way the fold of his zipper is angled out. A man. An honest-to-God man. It's been forever... "I-"

"Did I tell you you could talk, bitch?" My eyes widen as they travel upwards. He hovers over me. God, he's tall. It's all I can do to shake my head in acknowledgement. His fingers nimbly undo his zipper, and I spin on the bed to be crouched on my knees before him. His left hand disappears inside of his pants, and when it reappears, it's cradling a cock. An honest-to-God man with an honest-to-God cock. "Do you have any idea how lucky you are?"

I shake my head as I lean forward, eyes fixated on the soft half foot of flesh in front of me. His fingers unwrap, offering it to me, and I accept. My tongue slides out past my lips, along the underside of his head, cradling the weight of it as his hand falls away. As I lean in farther, my tongue writhes to guide him past my lips, where it's warm and wet. One of my hands grasps the base of it, squeezing and stroking lightly as it thickens. One of his hands gently caresses my cheek, his fingertips tucking underneath my chin and pulling my gaze upward.

"Tonight," he says, in a calm voice, "you will call me Master."

"Yes, Master," I say, backing up slightly. My hand works up and down the length of him, spreading the saliva I left around his head.

Just as I go to lean back in, his hand pulls back from my cheek and delivers a quick slap. "Did I give you permission to talk?"

My eyes bug out and my cheeks color rapidly. "No, Ma-"

Another slap. "Your lips could be put to such better use right now, slut."

My eyes fall down and away as I rush to take him into my mouth. To take far more of him into my mouth than I had before. Right down to the index finger of my left hand, which is planted against his groin. The slightly sweet taste of precum on the back of my tongue, as I set a slow pace from tip to finger and back again. The head of his cock glides past my back teeth.

"Deeper," He says commandingly. My left hand instinctively opens slightly, keeping only two fingers wrapped around him as a buffer. Each trip in, when my lips touch my finger, my throat reflexively closes. Thick strands of saliva drip over my lips, down my chin, and from his cock, and when he says, "Deeper," again, I tremble inside. My hand falls away.

The first trip down falls a full inch short as the flared tip of his cock hits the back of my throat. I gag and try to pull back, but his hand tightens in my hair. My lungs revolt against his will, but I want him to push farther. Saliva and precum splatter against his stomach, but my eyes close as he guides me back in again. My gag reflex is nearly unchanged but he overpowers me, keeping himself impaled in my mouth. I hack, trying to force air in and out around the intruding length. Though my eyes are shut tight, I can feel the wetness on my cheeks as he keeps me there.

Slowly, my throat begins to yield, and he pulls me back and off of him. "You can talk now."

"Yes, Master," I gasp, trying to recover quickly. Everything is blurry as I look up at him. His eyes are impossibly intense...

"Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for this?"

"No, Ma-" He abruptly pulls my head in again, and my mouth is filled beyond capacity. I cough roughly as my lips press against his groin, distributing spit everywhere.

"If 'Yes, Master' and 'No, Master' are all you have to contribute, then I'd rather you go back to just shutting up!" I grunt and try to nod my head, but I'm shaking so hard it's difficult to know if he can tell. Honestly, I don't think he cares, and that is so unbelievably hot! "Fuck, this is a long time coming. Fuck... Fuck!"

I can't seem to make my tongue do what I want it to, but the intense muscle contractions of gagging draw out a string of nonverbal responses from him. My lungs begin to catch fire, and I tentatively press my palms against his thighs. "Oh," he says. "Do you think you need air? That's cute." He starts to drag me back, only to slam my face down into his groin again. My cry is muffled and almost completely silenced by the steel pole in my mouth.

A few seconds shy of forever later, he casually tosses me backwards; coughing, red faced, as I desperately try to regain my breath. His hand grabs at the center of my negligee and rips downward. The flimsy shoulder straps break instantly, baring my lace bra. "I know I said small breasted, but Christ. You didn't get much at all, did you?"

My face colors even more extremely as he degrades me. Part of me wants to fire back, to insult him. Part of me wants to remind him who's the woman here. Part of me wants to curl in on myself. Mostly, though, I just want him to keep going...

I nod hesitantly, and he reaches for my groin. I moan as his hand roughly grabs my half-extended clit through the sheer fabric of my panties. "This doesn't do much for me," he sneers, as he rips the panties down my thighs. I gasp, writhing onto my knees and scurrying away from him, but he grabs me by my hips. "Where do you think you're going?!"

He yanks me back against him, and his right hand momentarily leaves my hip only to come crashing down open-palmed against my exposed hind cheek. I squeal and bite my lip. The stinging is... amazing.

"Again," I whimper as I look back over my shoulder. I push myself backwards into him, wrapping my cheeks around his erect cock and pinning it against him.

"I would tell you what a slut you are, but I think you already know."

The clap of his palm is so deafening and sudden that I hear it first. "Fuck," I cry a moment later, as the searing sensation ramps up tremendously. "Yes!"

'You walk around all day, looking down on guys like me," Smack! "thinking you're all so superior."

"Show me my place," I whimper, surely as shocked as he is as I just said that, but he keeps right on going. Smack!

"Show me my place..."

His matronizing tone sets my mind searching for my mistake. "Master!" I cry a moment later. "Show me my place, Master!"

"That's more like it," he grumbles, and then adds ominously, "It's a good thing at least one of you bitches knows where you belong, even if you don't really count." I shudder heavily as he grinds his hips against me, cock rubbing dry and rough between the tops of my cheeks.

It's impossible, in the moment, to wrap my head around the 'why' of this. I'm sure that later, the peanut gallery is going to want to have a word with me about my self-esteem, or my self-worth, but that is a fleeting concern. He has his hands on me. A Fucking Man. He wants me, and it's intoxicating. My lightheadedness only increases as he pushes the tangible, rigid testimonial of his urges against my womanhood, and takes me.

"Oh," I whisper, weakly. "Oh God... oh God!"

"Women have forgotten this." My head is faced forward, but the sneer is plain in his voice. "This is what God and Nature intended for you." I grit my teeth and groan as his hips come to rest against the backs of my thighs, as his fuck-stick fills me. Fulfills me. "You are built to take me," he says. "To be on the receiving end of my attention. To receive my seed!! Not the other way around!"

"I'm yours, Master!"

"God damned right you are," he grunts, punctuating it with another loud Smack, and then he's off. I squeal as he sets a hard and fast pace. My left hand reaches down and grabs hold of my clit, the thumb working feverishly back and forth over the sensitive tip. I feel his hand pull away from my hip, and I brace myself for the SMAAAAAAACK!!

"Fuuuuuck!! Fuck yes!!" I can barely believe the words coming out of my mouth are coming out of my mouth. "Fuck me harder!"

I cum abruptly and unexpectedly, as his hand comes down flat and hard on the spot he's surely turned bright red, if not purple. My clit throbs in my hand, shaking with an intensity that redefines the word 'throb'. My gush pours out of me in spurts each time he pulls back, soaking the makeshift bed under my knees.

"Jesus Christ," Kerr shouts. My orgasm extends, echoing back in forth inside me as he continues to pound away. "Yes... Yes...Yes..." I begin to realize that a constant stream of sound, of a kind that lacks good descriptors in the English language, is pouring out of me. "Yes! Yes!!" he cries. My eyes roll up behind my eyelids and my mouth falls open as he grinds away inside me, boring into my cunt with mindless abandon. "Yes! Yes!"

As he peaks behind me, emptying himself inside me, I shudder. Something deep and primitive within me is... sated... in a way it's never been before. My lips move, forming the words 'thank you' over and over, but I am incapable of any sound at all. He pulls out and backs away, and without him to support me, I collapse. Some of his cum leaks out of my pussy, sitting warm and thick against the inside of my thigh. My hand moves of it's own volition to scoop it up with two fingers and take it into my mouth, offended by the idea that any of his seed be wasted.

"God, someone built you right. Is there a tip jar around here somewhere?" After a moment, he adds, "Holy crap, she built you to squirt?!" I drowsily consider what he's saying, but it doesn't make a whole lot of sense. "Wow... it's even warm..."

"Of course it's warm," I say, blinking.

"Just seems like an odd thing to generate heat for."

"I don't... generate it, I'm always hot."

"Let's not get carried away," he scoffs. I sniff, and he turns back to me with that same simpering smile. "Awwww... did I hurt the poor little Synth's feelings?"