Page 3 of The Doll Factory
Sending a quick text to the Chop Shop, they may have a buyer who wants a warm one.Or she can just go into the stew pot.
All those dogs need to eat.
“I’m disappointed.Vocal chords are an unfortunate option in your model.It’s a pity they kept erroring.”I press the filed edge against her growing pupil and pull back the hammer.“Time to reset to factory settings.”
With a calculated strike, the blade slices through the center of her widened eye, popping it with delicious noise.Clear viscous fluid drains over her tightening cheek and she tries to turn away, struggling against the thick guards on either side of her face.
I’m not sure why I like this part so much.
Perhaps it’s because the decision has been made.
Or, more likely, it’s that I know I’m going where no one else has ever been, or will be again.
I’m tempted to cover her screaming mouth.The shrill cries so close to my ears hurt.
Silence is my friend.My partner in life.It dictates my movements in my need for quiet.
The boney plate behind the ruptured globe stands as an incidental barricade to loosen.Not too deep.I don’t want to turn her off completely, yet.
I just need to open the channel and turn off this infernal noise.
Why do I always forget my headphones?
I didn’t expect her to be useless, just needing a tune-up.Next time I’ll plan accordingly.
There.Obstacle removed.
I’m harder than ever.Standing above her, I line up the end of my leaking cock with the newly vacant hollow.
“It’s time to turn—” My swollen head presses against the bloody hole.“—you off.”With glorious force, fueled by the possessiveness of the act, I plunge my stiff length through her vacant orbit, ripping through the virginal membrane of her frontal lobe until the mashed tissue oozes from around my shaft and she falls still.
Shoving my thumb into her sagging mouth, I use the leverage of her jaw to fuck her skull.
It only takes three rapid assaults before I’m spurting into her cerebral matter.
The shiver of orgasm is intense, making me shudder over her inert form.
Glancing around the room, a wall of eyes stare back.Some plastic, some organic, all mine.
Until I get bored with them, or they lose the ability to obey.
“This is what happens to dolls who don’t listen,” I grunt, with a final shiver of cum dribbling from the slit of my sensitive dick.
Flipping the waistband of my scrub pants back over my softening length, I work on unbuckling the restraints that hold this defunct garbage to the table.
“Doc?”Andy’s voice wafts from the office.
“Coming!”In more than one way.
My surgical gloves hit the rim of the garbage can with a practiced flick after I peel them off.
“Doctor Miles.We have need of more of those implants.”Pert Richards stands next to Andy in the foyer, idly dropping ashes of his thick cigar.
“Will it work for the Cabins?”Andy leans against the counter, then jerks the matching leashes he holds in his hand.
A woman with gloves over her hands falls to her knees at his feet, while the other stands frozen beside her.
I’m intrigued.
