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To love what isn't Human (QB X Airi)

"We will see each other again...I promise..."​

The latest shot of Methodol really was taking root. Given the long hours of work one has to do in the Ward 7's Administration, the use of the 'enhancer' was more than needed to stay up and functional. The side effects did include nausea and some memory lapse, but that was but a small price to pay if that meant he could keep the gears that keep the city what it was revolving. After the shot, his eyes kept track of the information system, using the holograms to keep track of the system.

At any other day, Samuel would have taken a Strain #8254 coffee brewed Black, but there were no food or beverages allowed in each work station. While many workers would have their station nothing more than a cubicle, Samuel was more than fortunate to have a room to himself, overlooking the magnificent metropolis that was City 8.

Each City was the remainder of the human spirit, freed from the laws of morality and led by the principles of Darwin who, ironically, is considered a Saint with the Church of Progression and their crazy evolution-worshiping dogma. Done away with Democracy and human rights, it was cruel yet the system worked almost flawlessly. He sighed, taking no more than a moment's glance towards the skyline. THIRTY MINUTES UNTIL EVENT A: MEETING WITH EMPLOYEE ID#183404S. His robotic 'Organizer' named Gladys was always there to remind him of almost everything, a small hologram coming out of his wrist.

"Confirmed." he said, disconnecting from the information gateway. The door's control glowed a bright green instead of the red previously and the door slid open. Monotonously, the entire workplace opened up as workers jest, joked and walked down to get something to eat. He was sure that Nathaniel would be expecting the Quarterly report soon after, so he had to eat quick.

It was a simple life: a repetitive one mind you, but a peaceful one, nonetheless.

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They called it calibration, but the more cynical would know it to be nothing more than torture. Clad in a revealling and tight fitting clothes, the bodice of the outfit encased her torso as most of the borners outfits did but these men had added their own twist to it. Where once the fabric had been solid, a jagged diamond had been cut out of the front from collar bone nearly down to an inch above her privates, the fabric being sealed shut by clasps that ran between her legs. Black pants were sewed to this bodice, but slats had been cut out to reveal the tops of the insides of her thighs. Disembodied sleeves hung from her biceps, to reveal the naked hills of her shoulders and upper part of her back. A panneled skirt attached to her hips with the insignia of the pleasure slave.

She was mounted upon what looked like a half-cylinder machine, legs on both sides. She was penetrated by plugs that stuck out from her groin, the vibration rather sublime and extreme. A ring-gag was forced onto her mouth, arms bound together in a sleeve. This was just routine, as the machines would 'reconstruct' her proof. They knew not what her new master would enjoy, so it was for the best for her hymen to be reconstructed. After bringing her to a climax, the test on the sensitive little bud inside of her succeeded.

Then, the usual: they would test her for sensory reasons. Although this did just amount to her being forced to orgasm until she could take no more. "Moan." commanded a geneticist behind the camera. She heard nothing but his words, the headset muffling out all noise, along with the blindfold that obscured the world into darkness. This was almost a daily occurrence, after all...she had no worth. She could be thrown away at any given moment. She was...property.
 
Her mind was a blank sheet in the pitch darkness. She could no longer think, only feel, and that was really only limited to what she was allowed to. The familiar feeling of her body jolting up to orgasm for the countless of times no longer brought her shame like she used to at the beginning of her program. Only pleasure remained, and it was pleasure that she must be seeking from now on, even if it would mean losing her humanity. She lived to obey and be played, a property that seek only to receive and grant pleasure.

Tiny puffs of breath escaped the steel ring that stretched her jaw when the command rang loud and clear in her ears. She obeyed just easily, just in time as her body began to convulse with an intense climax, enough to fill the room with her trembling moans. Unconsciously, her hips began to grind back at the vibrating plugs, if only for limitedly as her restraints prevented most of her movements.
 
The researchers, despite their line of work, was quite professional in their work: they recorded each timing, satisfied that upon each climax the lag-time between the other shortened. Their usual duty at work was the enhancement or the removal of one's sex drive, a mandatory part of the Ministry of Social Relationships, commonly known by the nickname 'Ministry of Love'. "Your new Master will be Citizen ID#3914B: Samuel Lawson. He has a fetish for Bondage and Domination. You are to serve him well until your disposal." She 'had' been given another chance after the death of her previous owner, instead of being terminated she was instead recycled. However, this would be her last chance...

The machine that held her close soon left, as hands quickly propped up her clothes properly. The tight fitting and brightly colored bodice was indeed fitting for a girl whose purpose in life was to provide sexual comfort, but that wasn't all. Her ankles were bound with a metallic bar spreader, her mouth fitted with a ball gag as small vibrators, two in all, were snuck within her warm and fresh snatch. As if her sensitivity before wasn't enough...the toys were slowly driving her to orgasm. She was led, humiliatingly towards a van, where she was then placed near his door, where she was then tasked to knock...

<><><>

The Direction was pleased with their Error coefficient being this low. Jude's determination after he found a nice woman to marry really did much to improve the lag-time problem found within the transportation matrix. After a good day's work, he dropped by O'Shelby for some coffee. Jude went on and on about his plans to decorate the baby room: sky blue, a fresco of stars and the galaxies, stuffed toys and of course, a nanny Engine. Engines. That's what they called machines that were created for the purpose of assuming human tasks. With women tasked to take upon employment under the Rights and Regulations for the treatise of Women, children were often left in the care of Nannies or Borners.

Waving goodbye to the analyst, he soon drove home. Putting down his jacket onto the coatrack, he loosened up his tie and picked up the latest issue of Today. "TV, on. Channel 8." he commanded, sighing as he read on. There were cases of strange malfunctions within Borners, mostly with their Idea Engines failing or short circuiting. In comparison to the Hologram system and the Sibyl mainframe, the Idea Engine was relatively new, so there were bound to be defects from time to time.

Tonight! A chilling report of a Borner who had killed her own owner! Ministry of Truth reporter Darcy Abraham has the details.
Thank you, Marcia. The home of 38 year old Johnathan Campbell was the scene of a horrific bloodbath following his grisly slaying two weeks ago by what some investigators claim to bet he work of a Borner. Mini'Gen advisors claim that BornerID UY7 'Ciiel-9' had a defective Idea Engine that had led to the grisly murder during a private gathering by Sir Campbell and his associates. More on this news at Nin-

Oh, look at the coincidence. Scenes overhead the lavish mansion were displayed, showing the extravagance the Upper Circle lived in. There were three 'classes' of people: The Upper Circle, the Administrators and the Workforce. Needless to say the prestige of the first was far beyond the others, as did their living standards. He paid no mind to it, instead turning off the TV as he walked to the kitchen. He reached out for the cup that rose up from the mechanical table, the glass parting slowly as a small cup of black coffee rose up. WANT THAT BLACK OR WITH CREAM, MR.LAWSON? asked the monotone voice of Gladys, the automated Home services program. "No thank you."

He picked up his next book, A Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. Though many ridicule him for his insistence in reading 'Old World' fiction, he found every underlying theme ever so...fitting in explaining their world: Eugenics, a static society and enforced inequality...if only...
 
The journey in the van and towards the house were both torturous and blissful. She soon found out that the contraptions installed on her were specifically designed to build up her pleasure without allowing her to actually reach her climax. The temptation was even more laborious during the bumpy ride in the van, with each bouncing movements of the transportation caused tremendous sensations to her inner loin, causing her to writhe and moan along the way.

So close was she on the brink that she was enticed to use her own hand in order to aid in her release, but a minor jolt from the inside of her nape prevented her from conducting it in reality. Instead, she stumbled to a designated door with her metal stretcher and ball gag. With a finger quivering from the intense build-up of pleasure, the Borner Ilie reached and pressed at the bell button shortly before she crumpled on her knees. Her legs, tormented from the earlier ministrations on her already, had just decided to give up finally, it would have seemed.
 
The bell chimes sounded out Beethoven's 9th Symphony, arousing his attention from the depths of the book he was reading. YOU HAVE A VISITOR IN THE FRONT DOOR MR.TRENTON said the machine, SHALL I BRING UP CCTV SURVEILLANCE? Samuel had stood up already, Closing up the book and laying it onto the table. "I'll be alright. Keep security level at minimum." UNDERSTOOD. Gladys was quick to respond, the vigilant and perfect housekeeper. But, who could it be? In the day and age when computers systematized everything, it was rare to have a visitor you did not arrange for. Actually, he was quite curious when he reached out to the door, taking a good look at what was outside. For sure, the sight did surprise him. The sight did make his eyes widen, much so that he opened the door just to ensure his very eyes weren't deceiving him.

With her ankles affixed to a bar of metal that spread them out, hands handcuffed before her clenched together, her body tensing up as a series of soft, gentle and panting moans could be heard from behind a bright red ball situated in her mouth, her eyes half-lidded as her knees pressed together, having knelt on the floor utterly weak and unable to stand. Moving a little closer he could hear a soft whirring noise, particularly from below as he held her aloft, taking time to gaze into her before he lowered her onto the floor. Her eyes, her hair, her outfit and her gentle frame. No. This can't be right! "...Is this some cruel joke?" he asked, pushing up his glasses. On her shoulder was a familiar ID tag: UY7. This was that Pleasure Ilie that murdered Johnathan Campbell!

What was she doing here?! Shouldn't she to be prepared for euthanasia? What would a fugitive like her be doing here, bound and suggestively tormented, the blush at her cheeks and the slight sheen on some of her skin-embracing leggings telling him that she had just gone over the edge, feminine fluids softly dripping down the slats on her thighs. He WAS into bondage, but he preferred to keep that fact secret, so he helped her inside then closed the door, removing the ballgag as a trail of drool snaked from the rubber ball from her lips. "Who sent you?" he asked, "You should not be authorized to be outside of the Ministry of Genetics..." he picked up the phone, entering the Borner ID, but was surprised when no 'result' came up.
 
Her eyes followed his movements closely from behind the haze that clouded her sight. Each movement of his limbs filled her imagination regarding what he would or wouldn't do to her already high-strung body. When he merely touched her to move her into the house, a violent shiver ran down her spine, but her contraptions were quick to slow down their ministration and minimize her arousal only enough to prevent her from reaching climax.

Trembling on the spot where her designated master had put her, she looked up to the bespectacled man as he removed her gag. Her eyes were glazed with plea and a hint of desperation. To his question, all that she could reply with was, "P-please, Master... I can't... take it anymore." As she was speaking, the clear, feminine fluid on her inner thighs flowed more and more from her vibrating core, the excess droplets making a small pool in between her spread legs.
 
Take it? Take what? Samuel wasn't sure whether or not to be disgusted or utterly moved. For one...he was flustered. Yes, this was a girl on the throes of an orgasm. A beautiful, almost flawless specimen. He knew what Pleasure Ilie were: simple machines, like clockwork robed in flesh and devoid of any thought aside form pleasure. Disgusting, they were humanity's fantasies reincarnated into flesh, quivering and almost wanting before him. Samuel fancied himself a rational man who places Darwin, Levus and Trafalgar, but seeing the very quivering and submissive Pleasure Ilie almost beckoned to his...animalistic urges.

And of course...a face from the past he so cherished...

Samuel didn't really know what to do. It almost shamed him to feel a hardness about on his manhood, how it longed to thrust inside of her welcoming chasm. "Who...are you?" There were many questions to ask, but this was pretty much the only thing Samuel could say at this time, as he leaned in...close as he caressed her hair. He didn't seem at all concerned about the fact that she was on the verge of climax...a fluster on his cheek he admired her features, even going so far as to lean in to kiss her ever so passionately...
 
His kiss felt like a jolt of electricity to her trembling and wanting body. Almost reflexively her lips opened to welcome his tongue, eager to be devoured by his passionate assault and, to some degree, attack back at the cave that was her master's mouth. Upon tasting him, it almost felt like something awakened from inside her, and for once, she wasn't only feeling the vibrators that were placed deep in her core nor the restrictive commands sent by the implant on her skull.

"M-my... name..." She gasped into his mouth like a fish out of water, while her conscience began to rise up from the haze of lust and pleasure that hung thick in her mind. Before she could say another word, however, actual jolts of small-current electricity were sent out from her chip implant and directly attacked her nerve systems, causing her to moan into the kiss and completely devoid of all thought that had previously cropped up even the slightest. All that was left was the intense desire to please her master, and it was at that point that she began kissing deeper, with her cuffed hands gripping desperately at the front of his clothes.
 
"Y-your name? Go on!" Samuel was a bit...impatient now, pulling away from the passionate kiss. Yes, he wanted to know her name...to wonder if she truly was the girl he so affectionately called 'Charlie'. An odd name perhaps, but Charlotte was quite an awkward name. Besides, she often teased him by using the name 'Samie' in an effeminate manner, so what better way than to fight back and call her with a masculine moniker? Even so...there was no denying that he lusted for her...his hand moving slowly towards her chest. Her tender, supple breasts sent tingles of pleasure as his right hand fondled her, all while the vibrator tried to bring her to climax...

Then, he simply gave up. Overtaken by a monstrous and suppressed lust, he placed the gag right back into her mouth, his breathing strained as he pushed her down, his hand reaching out and groping her breasts harshly. His face softened from the lust that was obvious about, he slowly pulled her bodice open, releasing her modest breasts and perky nipples for him to taste, all while his hand reached down low. Panting like a dog, he so craved her...unable to resist. Oh, how the mighty had fallen!
 
Her breath hitched upon feeling his fingers on the hard nub of her nipples through the fabric of her bodice. When her gag was put back on, he only needed little to no force to push her down; her knees being too weak from all the pleasure that he bestowed on her. Unlike before, her contraptions seemed to be approving of the sensations that overwhelmed her, perhaps recognizing that the stimulants themselves came directly from her master. Her muffled panting sounds were only contested with his own and the soft whirring sound of the vibrators.

Finally, when his warm tongue lapped at her sensitive breasts and his touch briefly brushed against her much-teased outer nub, the stimulation became almost too much for her to bear. Her red-tinted irises soon disappeared to under her lids while her body arched and writhed from waves after waves of ecstasy that washed over her. Despite the toe-curling climax, her contraptions were quick to rouse her again into the moaning, trembling state that she was before her orgasm, this time to ready herself to pleasure her master.
 
Something about...her...was just driving Samuel completely insane. Like an insect drawn to the light, so was he throwing aside all of his notions and beliefs as he kissed her fully. Her breath smelled of flowers, her flesh smooth and her face demurely showing her arousal very clearly. With the vibration of the toys within her tender snatch forming a background hum that complimented their tender moments in contact, Samuel tried to remove his pants, only to snap towards realization. J-just what was he doing?! He wasn't just some lustful young man...he was Samuel Lawson,! Co-Adimistrator of Ward 10! How dare he act with such vulgarity.

Despite that burst of self-righteous zeal, he had to admit that yes, she was just...perfect. Even though in his mind he knew this girl to be nothing different from a toaster or a fridge, she was just...gorgeous. Only when he saw the remote did he finally turn the buzzing invader away, surprised to find that the pink bullet from the wire was utterly wet and coated with her love fluids.

With a pant and his hardness slowly softening, he positioned her towards the bed, asking "What is your name. I demand to know." he asked, wondering if she really was UY7. Even so...was this...that gift? "Answer me. What is your ID and what name are you known by?
 
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