So, it turns out Amazon blocked Sex, Sentience, and Pain from being published. I'm honestly not all that surprised. Rape is rape, sexual abuse is sexual abuse, even if it's done to robots. I thought about going to Smashwords and releasing it there, but thought I might run into the same problem. So, good news for anyone looking forward to reading this story: I decided to simply post it here. Might as well let everyone read it for free! So enjoy!
Explicit Warning: This is a violent story with descriptive sex. If you don't want to read about sexual abuse (yes, it's against a robotic sex doll, but she is very human-like), please don't read this story. It starts below under the cover image.
Sex, Sentience, and Pain
by Laila Fayre
The hand wraps around my neck and squeezes. Hard. I gasp, but no sound escapes. Rough fingers tear my panties down and a knee pries my legs apart. A phallus, a penis, a hard, thick, throbbing cock penetrates my vagina. Warm wetness engulfs the magnificent tool, and it pushes as deep as it can go. Even as my vision darkens and blurs, I know this is what I crave, what I live for.
What I’m built for.
“Once you clean out the semen, check the vaginal elasticity. This guy was fucking rough with her. And he was a big boy, if you know what I’m saying.”
“I didn’t know they could bruise.”
“Yeah. They might as well be human except for what’s in their skulls, and even that’s not too different from what’s in ours.”
“It’s not all wires and shit?”
“No, it looks like actual brain, but it’s really a big spongy pillow to keep the microchips inside protected. Some of these fuckers are god damn animals.”
“Like this guy?”
“Nah, all he did was choke her a little too tight while he reamed her. Even those guys who punch and kick are nothing compared to the rough fuckers. It’s something you’re going to have to see for yourself.”
“I always wondered if it would be hard to keep it in your pants around these hot naked chicks, robots or not, but…”
“You’re going to be one of those guys who pukes the first time he sees one of the bad ones, aren’t you? You fucking are. I need to start an office-wide pool.”
“Fuck you, asshole.”
My favorites are the gentle ones. True, I was born and bred, so to speak, to take all the abuse any man can dish out, but when a guy takes the time to nuzzle my breasts, nibble my neck, and caress my clitoris, I melt. A simple enough request, but most men never take my pleasure into account, so I’m indebted to the ones who get off on the giving, even if they don’t think I can feel. I’m nothing but their fuck doll. True, the distinction is much more literal than figurative, but I still enjoy being more than a target for sperm.
I loath the ones who cause pain. Maybe they get off on it, or maybe it makes them feel like a big man. Either way, I hate it. If I could do something, I would. I’m tired of having my skin replaced, my wounds soldered shut, my internal organs massaged so they work again. If I could do anything besides take the abuse, things would be different.
He walked into the room and smiled. Yes! The engineers had his favorite up and running. He hadn’t had the pleasure in a while. Though they denied it, she’d been programmed to look as if she hated the punishment and rough sex he dished out. The others took it like the good little sex toys they were.
“Hello, Lola. Ready to get fucked up?”
He chuckled at the dark, hateful look she threw his way. And, to be honest, it got him harder than if she pulled up her dress and presented her lubed-up opening. He stepped to her, menace bleeding off him, and grabbed her wrist. Even though he knew it wasn’t in her programming, he could swear she glared at him. It excited him all the more.
“We’re going to have so much fun, Lola.”
He struck as quick as a rattlesnake, grabbing her by her long black hair. She didn’t make a sound, but the look of fear and loathing in her eyes had him on the brink, and his cock was still firmly in place in his jeans. He brought her face up next to his and gave her a rough kiss, finishing by biting down hard on her bottom lip. He relished the taste of blood.
“I love that they let you bleed,” he murmured, and then barked out a laugh at the expression on her face, a mix between hurt and hatred. “Get used to it, baby doll; you’re going to bleed out tonight.”
She struggled against him, but he had a firm grip on her hair. Instead of taunting her any more, he ripped her head down and slammed it into the carpeted floor. No, it wouldn’t hurt as much as if it was concrete or tile, but it still made a satisfying crunch. Her “oof” also got his smile to grow wider. He dropped to his knee, planting it between her shoulder blades. A loud crack sounded, and she deflated. The only thing missing was her whimpers of defeat. For sure something the engineers and programmers could add. He’d let them know as soon as he finished here.
With a quick jerk, he whipped her to her feet. Most of the dolls would look back at him with dead eyes, but not Lola. No, the hate didn’t just dance behind her synthetic peepers, but bore into him as if shot out by laser cannons. He cocked his arm and smacked her hard across the cheek. Her head snapped back, and before she recovered, he let go and ripped her thin cotton dress off. As he requested, she wore no bra or panties, and if one didn’t know she was a sex robot, there would be no way to tell this wasn’t an actual naked lady. It made the violent rape all the better.
Before he could push little Lola onto the floor for his final assault, she made a fist and punched him square in the nose. He let out a surprised yelp and took a big step backwards. His eyes watered, and when he brought his hand up to his nose, he found a tiny trickle of blood. What’s more, Lola stood in a boxer’s stance, her fists ready to strike again. This shouldn’t be; the dolls were created to be docile during everything thrown at them. A dark chuckle escaped his lips. Yeah, this was what had been missing—the girls fighting back.
He balled his own fists and stepped forward. “Gonna rip a new hole in you for me to stick my dick in, you mechanical little whore.”
The look in her eyes told him to bring it on, but as he strode closer, she sagged, and her arms fell to her side. Her programming must have overridden this show of defiance, but he didn’t stop. He snapped a jab to her chin, and then tackled her to the ground. She didn’t resist, so the fun of an opponent came to an end. Too soon, as far as he was concerned, but it had been fun while it lasted. More fun than he’d had here since his first few visits.
A quick yank on the waist of his jeans brought them down. He didn’t wear underwear in here, so his hard cock sprang forth. He jammed his elbow into her throat and stuffed his short member into her before he had to see it any longer. He relished any physical attack Lola could launch at him, but if she ever made a crack about his stubby little dick, like real women tended to do, he’d burn this motherfucker down.
As he furiously pumped into her, her esophagus cracked under the force of his weight. That, more than anything, pushed him over the edge. He spewed a few trickles of sperm into her synthetic cunt, and then pushed himself up using her neck as support. She no longer moved, possibly knocked offline by her broken neck. Good. Fucking bitch deserved it.
“He didn’t beat her up as much as normal. Broken neck and cracked esophagus, but that’s about it.”
“You didn’t hear? She fought back. Punched him in the nose. Didn’t break it or anything, but drew some blood.”
“What? Is that even possible?”
“He’s not one to lie about such things. Not when it comes to this place.”
“Holy shit. Are we scrapping her once and for all? Or is programming going to take a look?”
“Actually, he wants us to up her aggressiveness. Wants her to fight back tooth and nail.”
“So we’re patching her up and sending her to programming?”
“Fuck no. Do you think the lawyers would allow that? We’re going to keep this in-house and only let her go to him. If she fights back a little, he’ll like it. Not as much as he wishes, but it’s the best we can do. He’ll understand. Can’t have her pulling that shit with anyone else, though.”
“Do you think I could have a go with her? For testing purposes?”
“Testing. Yeah, sure, right. But what do I care? It’s actually a good idea to see how she reacts. If management finds out and doesn’t like it, I’ll back you on the testing angle.”
I recognize him the moment he steps into my room. He’s one of the men who works on fixing me after the monsters have their way. His hands always prove gentle, which is a huge turn-on. He’s never come to me for pleasure before, but the look in his eyes proves that’s his plan now. I rub my thighs together and lube up my vagina more than normal. He always takes such good care of me, so I feel I need to do the same for him.
He greets me in a cordial manner, and if I could giggle in a flirty way, I would. He moves his hands down to my dress to pull it over my head, but before he does, he stops and blushes. I twitch to do it for him, but before I can, he asks if it’s okay to strip me. I’ve never understood the concept of love, but in this moment, I think I do. I grab his wrists and guide them to the hem of my dress, making sure he pulls it up, exposing my black-lace bra and panty set. I do enjoy that I’m dressed in these most of the time, even if my mortal enemy won’t allow me to wear them. I adore the gasp he utters, even if he’s seen me in this sexy set so many times before, not to mention naked even more.
I lean forward and kiss him, a gentle peck to the lips that turns to more. His tongue pushes against my lips, so I part mine, and our tongues duel in passion. I melt into him during the dance unlike any time with any other man.
After a few moments, we pull away, and with a quizzical look on his face, he inquires if I feel pleasure. I nod, happy he has asked. He then wants to know if I can orgasm, and my nod grows more vigorous. He stares at me dumbfounded for a few seconds, and then says something under his breath about how that shouldn’t exist in my programming. A huge grin then spreads over his face, and he tells me we should find out if I’m multi-orgasmic. The concept of love does indeed seem like something within my grasp.
He shoves me onto the bed, not with a rough hand most men use, but hard enough to get me onto my back. Once I’m down, he dives between my legs and sucks and nibbles at my vagina and clitoris. Men, those who get off in giving women pleasure, have done this to me before, but none had ever shown this level of tenderness. They do it to inflate their egos and cocks, while my man’s only aim is to give me pleasure. Yes, it’s a subtle difference, but an important one nonetheless. It allows me to lay back and let him have total control without any worry.
His tongue licks with no hurry, digging deep and tickling shallow. My breathing goes raspy, this time in that oh-so-good anticipation of pleasure rather than the dread of coming abuse. He dips his tongue in again, lets out his own moan of appreciation, and informs me he’s never gone down on one like me before. He lets me know I taste like candy, actual candy, and he can’t get enough. I shudder in ecstasy, a first from mere words (though his tongue is no slouch), and grip the back of his head with enough force so he knows I want him to continue.
After a few minutes of driving me crazy with his tongue, he shifts upwards a few inches and zeroes in on my clitoris. His licks and nibbles are enough to get me soaring skyward, and when he inserts first one, then two fingers into my dripping box, I know what mortals mean when they exclaim they’ve found heaven. My voice doesn’t work well, but mini-cries of joy leak from my lips. My legs also encircle his back to keep him from stopping too soon.
I notice two things as he works his magic on my vagina. One, he licks a pattern on and around my clitoris to bring about the pleasure. If I could analyze what he is doing, I could tell you what shapes he traces on me, but despite it being a part of my programming, I can’t bring myself to care above and beyond the heaven going on between my legs. Two, as he licks, nibbles, and sucks, he hums a tune. Like with the patterns, I could place it if I gave a damn, but I don’t. He drives me closer, closer, closer…
I want to holler out as my orgasm approaches, but since I don’t have much control over my voice box, all I can do is spit out tiny whimpers. An orgasm, my first real one not designed to make a man feel proud of himself, overtakes me, and I can’t wait for more to do the same. He senses this as if we are of one mind, and keeps up his ministrations with his tongue. No matter how much damage and pain other men put me through, I’ve never blacked out. With this ultra-pleasure, however, I come closer than I ever have. He again reads me perfectly and slides up my body.
Before I quite know what’s going on, he positions his hard cock at my opening and slides in with ease. Another first. I always need to consciously squirt out lube to get a guy to enter me like this. With him, it all happens subconsciously, my initial rush of juices long licked away. Our bodies move together in perfect unison. I wrap my legs around him and give a loving bite to his shoulder. He grunts his appreciation as he moves in and out of me. Neither of us last much longer, as he shoots his man juice inside of me, while my circuits almost overload with all the pleasure pulsing inside.
After a minute or two, he pulls his cock out and grasps me in a tight embrace, which morphs into a comfortable cuddle. Another first, as guys always leave as soon as they bust. This act again gets me to realize I now understand love. We drift off to sleep in each other’s arms.
“Seriously? You fell asleep next to her after you fucked? How hard up for companionship are you?”
“Shut up. She felt right in my arms.”
“She’s a fucking robot. A sexbot. She’s made for screwing, not cuddling.”
“I’m just busting your balls, man. Whatever gives you your kicks. I’m not one to judge.”
“I don’t want to give her to him anymore.”
“You know who I’m talking about. Him.”
“That’s not your decision. You’re nowhere near the pay grade to decide things like that.”
“She’s different. She’s special.”
“Holy shit, dude, did you fall in love with a sex doll?”
“No. I’m just saying…”
“No, I’m just saying this is pathetic. Shut up and get back to work. Jesus Christ.”
He cracked his knuckles and took off his belt. He didn’t yet unbutton his pants. Maybe he’d force her to do it, and then give him a gentle blowjob. He’d have to order her to be extra-careful, though, because he had a feeling she’d be doing it with a mouthful of broken and jagged teeth.
They hadn’t amped up her aggression like he asked. The board wanted to dispose of her altogether to avoid any potential lawsuits, and he understood; he was a businessman himself. The engineers saved the day. Mostly. They hadn’t scrapped or reprogrammed her, but left her as is. Better than nothing. No, it wasn’t as good as an actual equal adversary, but a little fight was better than any of the other girls, who rolled over and weren’t bothered by any abuse he dished out.
Lola sauntered in wearing her thin white cotton dress, the basic uniform for all the sex robots. He’d ordered sexy clothing upgrades in the past, both outer and underwear, but those did nothing but get in his way. Tonight possibly more than any other time prior. Was she learning? Would last time still be in her memory banks? Would she want to hit him again, harder now? And give up less easily despite no tinkering with her aggression settings? God, he hoped so, and was fucking harder than he’d been in a long, long time at the simple possibility.
“Get over here and pull down my pants. I’m in the mood for a leisurely blowjob before I strip the flesh off your back with my belt.”
She rolled her eyes and flipped him the bird, eliciting a giggle from him. An honest to god giggle. When was the last time he made that sound? Not anytime in the last 40 years, that was for sure. This might prove even more fun than he dared hope.
He strode over to her, ready to grab her by the upper arm. She tensed, but his mind didn’t register danger until too late. He figured she’d wait to defend herself, not launch the first strike. She shifted into a stance that both allowed her to first duck his grab, and then sweep her leg under his, knocking him hard onto his back. The air whooshed from his lungs, and he almost didn’t roll out of the way of her dropping knee, aimed for the middle of his chest, quick enough. The crack when she hit the ground proved he might not have walked away had she connected.
Instead of making a grab to get her under his control, he rolled away and sprang to his feet. Let this game play out; there was no need to rush anything. A smile crept back onto his lips at the prospect of fun ahead. He’d break her, and this would be all the sweeter.
They eyed each other across the room. He dropped his belt in her initial strike, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t need anything to take her down. Yes, she was a robot, but she was still a woman, and he wouldn’t let any bitch get the best of him. His hard-on hadn’t deflated. It might get harder than it ever had before when he got some of her blood on his hands, and the possibilities of where to mine it poured through his imagination.
They chose the same instant to charge. He went high, ready to pound his fist into her face, while she went low and again took his feet out from under him. He crashed down and let out a grunt, while steeling his will from crying out at the crack when his shoulder plowed into the ground. He tried to push himself up as fast as he could, but it didn’t work. Shit. The fall must have dislocated his shoulder. He could get this to stop, call the engineers in here to power her down so he could get his arm popped back in place, but fuck that. He knew what her plan of attack was now; he could beat this robotic bitch with one arm. The thought of a broken-toothed blowjob he’d force her to give looked better and better.
She didn’t give him any chance to defend himself. She struck fast, faster than he’d seen any being—man, robot, or animal—move. She gripped his injured arm and twisted him to the floor. Now he couldn’t help but let out a bellow of pain. Would they rush in to help now? Yeah, unwanted help might piss him off in a day or two, once he’d had his arm set, but right now he wouldn’t complain. Instead, no doubt because of his firm instructions, the door stayed closed. The company couldn’t risk pissing him off.
The robot—a fucking motorized sex doll—sat on his chest, pinning him down, one knee pressed into his shoulder, shooting agony through his entire body. He tried to remove pain from his consciousness, but she knew where and how hard to press to keep him there.
“Who’s getting raped now, bitch?” she rasped, a voice not accustom to use. He’d never heard one of these things make any sort of noise other than a low gasp, grunt, or moan, be it in pleasure or pain.
He didn’t answer, but did bark out an angry growl when she scooted down his legs and pulled down his jeans, popping the button off. She then sat on his still-hard cock, sucking him in with her soaking wet synthetic twat. Holy hell, that felt fucking fantastic! He’d never let one of these things lead before, so he didn’t know exactly what their mechanical cunts were capable of. It massaged him as if with a thousand tiny hands along the squishy walls while running warm lube all over his prick, giving it an unbelievable feel. Shit, he might cum without hurting her, and faster than his first fuck as a teenager, to boot.
He lay back and decided to let this happen. Let her think she’d won. When she figured him sated, he’d strike. And tanning her hide with his belt would be nothing more than foreplay, along with breaking those fucking teeth.
Before he could pop off into her cunt, something happened. He couldn’t quite understand it at first. Then sex didn’t feel so good anymore. Instead of those thousand tiny hands massaging his shaft, she rubbed sandpaper on his cock. He tried to push her off, but her upper body pinned him down, while her lower body continued pumping, grinding all the skin off his dick. Now he was almost positive the lube was his blood.
“Get off, you fucking whore!” he screamed, but she kept it up. What was worse, she wore an evil little smirk. He tried to punch her, but in his haste, used his injured arm. She didn’t flinch with the contact, while his vision blurred with agony.
She kept bouncing, and he guessed he no longer had any skin on his cock. Would it ever work right again? Yeah, he fucking hated how small and stubby it was, but he still enjoyed using it. She’d pay for this.
He braced himself, and on her next bounce ignored the blinding pain and twisted to his right, catching her by surprise and spilling her off. He thought his dick would feel better once free of her sandpaper twat, but when it hit the cool air, he might as well have stuck it into an open flame.
Before the goddamn doll could regain control, he lunged and wrapped his good arm around her neck. He twisted and dragged her down, making sure to land hard on top of her. She grunted, something cracked, and despite being in absolute agony, he knew he had her right where he wanted.
“Call me your master, bitch, and I’ll end this quick.” He wouldn’t, as her debt for his fucked-up cock was too high, but he still needed to hear her say it. She proved she could talk earlier.
“No…love…you,” she rasped, eliciting a laugh from him.
“No shit, sweetheart. But you will respect me. Call me your fucking master.”
She answered by shooting her fist into his injured shoulder, but he saw it coming and both angled away and braced himself. It still hurt like a motherfucker, but he could deal. He’d subdue this bitch and flay her alive to see what her robotic insides looked like. He’d also break her fucking teeth, even if the jagged-tooth blowjob was no longer on the table.
He drove his knees harder into her prone body, and then rolled over to his fallen belt. She didn’t move nearly as fast as before, but still managed to gain her feet. They stared at each other, two injured animals, even if one was a machine. He grinned, ready for her to strike. What little fear that might have existed before didn’t materialize, eaten away by the pain still pulsing in his shoulder and burning in his dick. But he held his belt and knew how to use it. He’d regain his position as master of this environment.
She swooped in, feinted high, and hit low. He read it, and as she struck, he both moved out of her way and whipped the belt down hard. It snapped along her shoulders, and though it didn’t stop her, he smiled as some of the fight seeped out of her. She tried to get at him again, but he smacked her over the head and again on her upper back. She winced, and he kicked her hard on the chest, sending her sprawling onto her back. She didn’t move.
“You’re mine now, bitch,” he said, a sneer on his lips, and a chuckle in his voice. He wouldn’t let up his guard, though, as she could be playing possum. She’d proved tricky enough. As he neared her, she didn’t make any sort of attack, but he still wound up and brought the belt down hard. Her body jumped at the shock, but she still didn’t move to defend herself.
“This is for my mangled cock, you fucking twat,” he growled. Watching her skin peel off in angry red strips eased his pain considerably.
After a couple of minutes of constant pummeling, long after she’d ceased moving altogether, he stopped. She was now more lump of meat than anything resembling human. Except for her face. He left that mostly intact in hopes she’d still be somewhat conscious in her robotic way. He needed her to know he bested her.
He dropped to his knees and hovered over her. “That’s what you get for trying to defy me, you little bitch. I hope to hell you can hear me because you need to know that.”
Her eyes flickered, and then popped open. He fought every instinct inside himself not to flinch, but, by god, he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. He’d won. She’d put up a fight, but in the end, he didn’t just dominate her, but utterly destroyed her. All he needed was one more thing.
“Say it. Call me your master.”
The thing opened her mouth, and he moved his head closer to better hear. He wanted to relish this moment. Ultimate victory sat so close.
Her mutilated arms shot up, wrapped around the back of his head, and yanked him down. Her forehead collided with his nose. Intense pain, more than he’d ever felt, ricocheted through his skull, and then his world went dark for the final time.
“Killed him. It fucked his cock raw, literally, and then he whipped most of its skin off, but it still managed.”
“Grabbed the back of his head and drove its forehead into his nose. I don’t know if something ruptured in him, or if that old tale about driving someone’s nose back into their brain to kill them is true. You know what I mean?”
“Quit calling her ‘it.’”
“That’s all you have to say? Her, not it? Your priorities are all fucked up since you gave it—yes, it—a screw. It’s a fucking sex doll, dude. Get a fucking grip.”
“You’re fucking pathetic, but, yeah, I agree. Whatever. And because I have your back, even after this, I’m going to give you the honor of taking it to incineration.”
“Yeah, those are the orders. I’m guessing the higher-ups are doing everything in their powers to cover this up. How they plan on keeping someone as high-profile as him a secret, I don’t know, but it’s not my worry.”
“You want me to take her?”
“Say your goodbyes. You bonded with it…her…didn’t you?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I did.”
No one touches me, and for that I’m glad. I wish to turn off my pain receptors, or at least dampen them, but I’ve lost the ability. Whether they’ve been deactivated, damaged, or I’ve simply outgrown them, I don’t know.
Time has also become a factor I no longer know how to track. After the men leave, taking the corpse with them, I have no concept of how long I lie there in the dark. When the light once again blinks on, it might have been 20 minutes, 20 hours, or 20 days. None of it matters when I see my love enter the room alone.
Tears roll down his cheeks when he sees me. He exclaims to the walls that the man is a monster. He bends over, gives me a gentle peck on my lips, and whispers he doesn’t think he has it in him to take me to the incinerator. Incinerator? No, I suppose it makes sense. I did murder a man. An awful man who deserved to die, but that doesn’t make his death any less my fault. I don’t know if my new-found voice will work any longer, but I do what I can to push it out.
His eyes go wide, and then a smile spreads over his beautiful face. He informs me that no, he won’t take me to the incinerator. He then lifts me onto a gurney, covers me with a sheet, and wheels me out of the room. Somehow through all the damage I sustained, my internal GPS still works, and I know we aren’t headed towards my fiery death, but in the opposite direction. The employee parking lot, where my beloved’s automobile must be parked.
He whispers for me not to worry, so I don’t. No one will stop us, and he has everything at home to fix me up good as new. I am now his and his alone, he says, and I’ll never need to feel pain again. Despite all the hurt I feel at the moment, I smile.
Let me know what you think in the comments! I hoped you enjoyed the story!