The Surrogates

I had never seen him look so helpless, so vulnerable,

Then there was a closeup of his hooded head and bare shoulders. He stirred, groaned, reached up and pulled the hood slowly off his face.

He looked exhausted, and as he shifted position he winced; clearly the brutal sodomising that the mannequin had given him had caused more than just emotional hurt.

He slowly opened his eyes, and looked off camera.

Then his eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to scream.

The lower half of the mannequin leaped onto his face, the dildo sticking out straight, and it clearly went into his mouth because Xan reached up and fought to tear it off him as it started to furiously rape his mouth.

It took ten minutes. The camera cut to several angles, using long, slow takes, as the mannequin's lower half covered Xan's face and fucked his mouth. His naked body thrashed on the bed as he reached up and uselessly tried to pull it off his face. The only sounds were the bedsprings creaking and Xan's muffled, choked gasps and panicky, stifled whimpers.

He fought and fought, his body arching in desperate agony as the thing mouth-raped him, his arms and legs stretching, his torso bending as he tried to get it off him. I watched, torn between lust and grief, seeing my twin writhing naked as the thing covered his face and fucked his mouth, over and over again, but it was too strong for him. His struggles grew weaker and weaker as the thing blocked off his air, and soon, Xan lay still on the bed, the lower half of the mannequin still over his face, his half-erect cock on his thigh, his legs and arms outflung; his body, which had been so violated by the mannequin in the name of some unknown person's lust, now inert and unmoving.

He lay still for a long time. His bare chest and stomach no longer rose and fell. His sweet, beloved naked body sprawled, lifeless, on the bed.

The image faded to black.

I was weeping. I turned off the video and covered my face.

________

The one thing I knew was that I had to do what Xan had done. I had to put myself in the same position. I had to risk being stripped and taken like that. I could not let him be the only one of us who fell victim to that thing.

It was perverse in the extreme. But having lost Xan, I had no one to turn to, no one to understand me like he did.

I contacted the company. They, of course, had known about Xan and had skilfully found a way to avoid paying out any compensation to his next of kin.

I told them that I wanted to take his place.

They told me that they were very glad to hear that, that the body shape Xan and I shared was a popular one, and that the technology had marched along, leaving behind the crude mannequins that had been used on Xan. The new mannequin was a more abstract object made of a highly flexible nanofluid, which could mould itself to the shape the user wanted. There was far less risk to the agent, because the risk of having your arms trapped was gone. It would be like making love to a rolled-up mattress, they told me. It was way safer.

I said I was in. Even if it had been the mannequin that had taken Xan, I would have been in. I wanted to experience what Xan had experienced; the loss of control at the hands of a user who had more on his or her mind than just nice vanilla lovemaking.

I wanted to suffer, as Xan had suffered.

They paid the money into my account, and they mailed me me an address and a swipe card. I took a bus out to the outskirts, to an anonymous industrial park. I found a unit, swiped myself in, and found an instructional pack with my name on it.

I followed the instructions, walking down a corridor to a room which turned out to be a functional copy of a hotel room, complete with bed, minibar and a window onto an anonymous strip of trees with the road beyond it.

I stripped off, following the instructions, and put on the white shirt, dark trunks and dark pants they'd left for me. I noted the last instruction, written in red: ON NO ACCOUNT MAY AN AGENT ENGAGE WITH THE MANNEQUIN IN AN UNCLOTHED STATE. AGENTS WHO ENGAGE IN UNCLOTHED SURROGACY FORFEIT ALL LEGAL PROTECTION. ON NO ACCOUNT MAY AN AGENT ALLOW THE NANOFLUID TO TOUCH HIS/HER SKIN. ANY AGENT WHO BREACHES THE PROTECTIVE SHEATH FORFEITS ALL LEGAL PRODUCTION.

I followed the signs to the action room.

The action room was identical to the one that Xan had been in. Perhaps it was the same room; perhaps all their action rooms looked the same. On the bed lay the mannequin 2.0, a tubular bag of nanofluid inside a vinyl covering.

I got on the bed, feeling fearful, but I mastered my fears and knelt astride the mannequin, and embraced it.

Hello, said the voice in my ear. Nice to have you back.

Hello, I thought.

I'm sorry I was a bit rough with you last time.

That's all right.

The fluid in the bag had a way of mimicking a real human body that was eerie but all too convincing.

Let me see that lovely cock of yours.

I took out my cock, which was half-erect, and lay down once more. My cock fitted neatly into a warm orifice in the bag, and a face was kissing mine, a warm body was pressed against me. I kept my eyes shut.

The mannequin rolled me onto my back, and it opened itself up at one end to admit my head. I inserted my head into it, and I was surrounded by moist, warm flesh, kissing me, sucking at me, whispering into my ear.

You're so good. Take me. Take me. You can use me, this time. Take me.

My shirt had become unbuttoned. I had never been with anyone else, not like this. I buried myself in the mannequin and I let it take my shirt off. I was fucking it, all the while, my years of sexual frustration at last given an outlet, as my cock seemed to be able to stay hard forever.

My pants were sliding over my hips and down my legs. The mannequin came off my head, to give me a breath, and then descended over my head again, eagerly taking my cock. I was just in my trunks.

We rolled over so that I was on top, and I was fucking the mannequin vigorously, my trunks pulled down at the front; and as I got more and more into the act, I became vaguely aware that my trunks were being pulled off me, slipping over my ass.

I whimpered in protest, and reached down and tried to grab them.

Come on. Let me see you. You are so sexy. Let me see your body.

No, I thought, no, please. But my cock was fucking such a welcome hole, and I was barely able to keep track of my state, and the next thing I knew it had a grip on my head, and my trunks were slowly, inexorably pulled down over my ass, and I struggled to keep them on, but it had a grip on my head, and soon they were being taken down my legs and off, and I was completely naked, helplessly rutting with the thing like an animal.

It was twining around me, seeking to master me. I whimpered in protest, my head sunk into the bag, the fleshy interface pushing at my lips, my eyes, taking me in every hole it could find. I was half-delirious with pleasure and abandon.

And then it had expelled me from itself, and had moved around to my back, and I was face-down on the bed, my head sunk inside the mannequin, as it mounted my bare hips and pushed between my ass cheeks.

Unlike Xan, I was not prudish about being the bottom. I let it do what it wanted. It took me, and I squirmed in nervous delight beneath it, and I felt it deep inside my ass, taking me, and I felt the joy of the user as he found that his agent was such a willing boi, desperate to be ass-fucked.

Truth be told, whoever the user was, he - or she - was a far more skilful lover than Xan. I was fucked senseless on that bed, and lay there in a stupor, exhausted and satisfied.

And as I lay there, it spoke to me again.

Cut the bag.

This, I knew, was absolutely forbidden. The fluid in the bag was some kind of AI nanofluid, semi-organic but capable of all sorts of forms, and the only thing that kept it safely confined was the vinyl bag it was contained in.

Cut the bag. Taste me. You know you want to. Let's take this further.

I lay naked on the bed, blissed-out and yet hopeless, shorn of my lover, my twin.

I sat up, and reached for the bag.

_______

I knelt naked on the floor, and picked up the bottle, and poured the fluid into my mouth.

It tasted creamy and slightly sweet. I kept pouring, and as I did so I occasionally coughed, and it would spray out of my mouth and onto my chin or chest.

I refilled the bottle and poured more into my mouth, and when my mouth was full I let it overflow and poured more over my eyes and nose and face.

Blinded, I felt the fluid touching me, caressing me, sensitising me, wanting me to go further. I reached down and took my cock in my hand and pulled on it.

I poured more fluid on my face.

Oh that's good. Oh yes. Oh yes, gorgeous, do it. Take it.

Blind and horny, I knelt, feeling the fluid drip over my torso, and I moaned as I felt it touching me and pressing at me, wherever it clung to my skin.

I got on all fours and looked at the bucket I'd filled with fluid, and I stuck my head deep inside.

It enveloped my senses; I was blind and deaf. I knelt up and poured more of the thick fluid over myself. It was like being fucked all over my body; I could not see, but I knew that whoever the user was could see me abusing the interface like this, and see how helplessly aroused I was. I sat up, and smeared more of the fluid over my head, humiliating myself utterly, and my skin was alive with sensation, almost more arousal than I could bear. I was desperate to cum.

I lay on my belly and took the half-empty bucket and pulled it onto my head, and then I took the dildo that had come as a spare part, and pushed it between my ass cheeks. Moaning, I felt my ass being penetrated as my mouth, eyes and ears were subjected to the most sensual treatment, and I squirmed and moaned as I gave myself up to it, lying nude on my belly with my head stuffed in a bucket of the nanofluid, whimpering as I was ass-fucked.

And then I felt the hardening.

The fluid in the bucket was stiffening. I reached up and tried to pull the bucket off, but could not. I was running out of air. The dildo up my ass was sodomising me. I whimpered helplessly. The bucket was firmly over my head.

I squirmed, naked, desperately trying to get the bucket off my head, but as my breath ran out I glimpsed that this was my fate, and I submitted, letting it take me, use me, letting whoever the user was gain the ultimate pleasure of fucking me into nothingness, as it had done to my brother.

To join my brother in oblivion; overcome and fucked into senselessness, naked and alone and powerless to stop it. I sprawled, blinded, nude, my body twitching as I came over and over, my life ebbing.

As my last breath left my body, my final thought was:

Oh Xan.

Together.

Finally.