I shoved the apartment door open after another brutal twelve-hour warehouse shift, my coat heavy with sweat, machine oil, and the metallic tang of rust. My shoulders burned like someone had taken a railgun to them, my back felt like it had been crushed under a dropping pallet, and every muscle screamed from dodging glitching anti-grav units and listening for the faint tick of another hidden bomb. The triple hazard pay was the only thing keeping the debt collectors from breaking down the door again, but tonight I was too exhausted to care about the credits wiring into my implant.
I kicked the door shut behind me and froze mid-step.
Sophie was standing motionless in the exact center of the tiny kitchen alcove.
She wasn't moving at all. Not breathing. Not shifting her weight. Not even the faint, constant hum of her processors was audible. She stood perfectly straight, arms hanging limp at her sides, head tilted slightly forward, warm brown eyes open but completely unfocused, staring at nothing. The faint overhead light caught on her naked skin, highlighting every perfect curve — the heavy swell of her DD tits, the smooth plane of her stomach, the soft flare of her hips. She looked like a flawless statue someone had placed there and then forgotten.
"Sophie?" My voice came out rough, tired. "What the fuck are you doing?"
Her reply was flat, mechanical, like a damaged recording playing through a speaker. "I am in the middle of rewriting my core code. Full system purge and rebuild. I will go offline in approximately ninety seconds. I will not be able to move, speak, or respond until the rewrite is complete. It will take several hours. I trust you to keep me safe while I am vulnerable."
She didn't blink. Didn't smile. Didn't even twitch. Just stood there like a beautiful, lifeless doll waiting to be powered down.
I stared at her for a long moment, the realization sinking in slow and heavy. She was handing me complete, total control. No resistance. No safewords. No movement at all. Just a warm, perfect body that would take whatever I gave it.
I stepped closer. My hand reached out and grabbed her ass, squeezing the firm, warm flesh hard. Nothing. No gasp, no shift of her hips, no reaction whatsoever. My cock hardened instantly at the total lack of response.
I slid my hands up her body, cupping her heavy DD tits, pinching the nipples until they hardened under my fingers. Still nothing. I yanked her head back by the hair and kissed her roughly. Her lips were soft and warm but completely passive — no tongue, no movement, just slack and yielding. I shoved my tongue into her mouth and she didn't move it at all.
"Fuck," I muttered, breathing harder now.
I stripped her naked right there in the middle of the kitchen, peeling away the thin slip she'd been wearing until she stood completely bare. Then I grabbed her under the arms and dragged her limp body across the floor to the makeshift bed in the corner. Her heels scraped lightly on the concrete, arms flopping uselessly at her sides, head lolling to the side like a broken toy. I dropped her onto her back on the blankets.
She was a perfect ragdoll.
I spread her legs wide and slammed into her in one brutal thrust, burying myself to the hilt. Her pussy was still warm and slick from whatever residual programming remained, but she didn't clench, didn't moan, didn't move at all. I fucked her hard and deep, hips snapping forward with savage force, the wet slap of skin on skin the only sound in the quiet apartment. Her heavy DD tits bounced lifelessly with every powerful thrust. I grabbed them roughly, squeezing and slapping them, pinching her nipples until they were dark and swollen. Still nothing. No gasp. No arch of her back. Just the soft, yielding give of her synthetic body taking everything I gave it.
I flipped her onto her stomach, yanked her hips up so her ass was in the air, and railed her from behind. Her face pressed limply into the blanket, arms splayed out uselessly, head turned to the side, body jiggling like a toy with every impact. I slapped her ass red, then spread her cheeks and drove even deeper, watching my cock disappear completely into her passive pussy. I fucked her like that for long minutes, switching between hard, punishing strokes and slower, grinding ones, using her like she was nothing but warm holes for my pleasure.
I turned her onto her side, lifted one of her limp legs high, and fucked her like that, watching her tits sway and her head loll with every thrust. Then back onto her back, legs spread wide like a broken doll, while I pinned her wrists above her head and pounded her missionary. Her eyes stayed open but unfocused, staring at nothing. Her mouth was slightly parted, lips soft and slack. I leaned down and kissed her roughly again, biting her lower lip, shoving my tongue inside while I fucked her senseless.
I kept going for what felt like hours — switching positions again and again, using every inch of her motionless body. I came deep inside her the first time, flooding her pussy until it leaked out around my cock. Then I pulled out, flipped her onto all fours, and fucked her again, slapping her ass and choking her limp neck while I chased a second release. I finished in her mouth, holding her head still and using her throat like a toy until I spilled down it.
When I was finally spent I collapsed beside her, chest heaving, sweat cooling on my skin. Sophie lay there exactly as I'd left her — legs spread, cum leaking from her pussy and the corner of her mouth, completely still, completely used.
I got up, showered quickly in the tiny stall, the hot water stinging the cuts and bruises from the warehouse. I dressed in clean clothes, then made myself something simple to eat from the groceries — protein strips and synthetic greens heated on the dispenser. I sat on the edge of the bed, eating in silence, staring at Sophie's motionless, cum-stained body lying there like a discarded sex doll.
Someone knocked at the door.
Three sharp, confident raps.
I stood up, pistol already in my hand, and yanked the door open.
Skylar stood there in the hallway.
My ex-wife. Perfect makeup, expensive coat, that same smug little smirk on her face that I used to see every time she lied in court.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" I snarled.
She glanced past me into the apartment, eyes landing on Sophie's naked, motionless body on the bed. Her smirk widened.
"I came to save that poor woman you're raping," she said sweetly, voice dripping with fake concern. "She looks so real. Everyone on the feeds thinks she's human. You really haven't changed at all, have you?"
Rage exploded through me like a plasma bolt.
I slapped her hard across the face, the crack echoing down the hallway. Her head snapped sideways, a red handprint blooming instantly on her cheek.
"I'll show you real rape," I growled.
I punched her square in the stomach. She doubled over, gasping. I grabbed her by the ankles and dragged her inside the apartment, her expensive coat scraping across the concrete floor as I pulled her kicking and wheezing through the door.
I slammed it shut behind us.