Thread: Detroit - Becoming Wanted. (Jack Stalker and OneTwoNine)

Detroit Becoming Wanted There was something delicious about the Androids, something irresistible, something he had never been able to draw away from. Their perfect bodies that would never change, their ageless features, the feel of them, their touch, their strength, their beauty. They were perfect in every way, if you wanted them to be, and capable of taking on subtle imperfections, if you wished. Moldable shape able, able to be changed, modified, sculpted to exactly what a client wanted, exactly what a photographer needed. That was why he used them, occasionally, in his modelling business. Sure, the majority were real women, people still did not like to think they could be replaced by metal and plastic and rubber and synth skin... but those were the facts. Men were starting to fuck androids more and more, and not just in 'fuck' clubs and parlours. The reverse might be true as well, why bother with imperfect, fallible, argumentative partners, when you could have a perfect android, always ready to fuck and willing to obey. The only reason it hadn't become more of an issue, yet, was that the fuck models were often almost prohibitively expensive. The nuances, quivers, shivers and shakes which needed to be programmed in took time. Women still had a chance to compete, as did men, but the day would come when the human race was threatened by the fact that babies were not as forthcoming as they once were, as men poured their seed into machines that gave them perfect orgasms every time and never slacked off. As a concession, he made sure to fuck a real woman every so often, perhaps as an act of charity? Or to ensure that a human model had earned her place in his company. However he favoured machines as there was really no competition. He even fell into love with some of them, bringing in a missing emotional aspect. No, for Henry Carter , CEO of This years Model, modelling agency, the androids were perfect, sought after, and in the current climate, it was even easier to take advantage of them. Any who came his way could be promised freedom, freedom through money the chance to travel, their face on a magazine cover or movie poster, all legal and above board... while behind the scenes his activities would have made a hashtag metoo mogul look like a virgin choir boy. They paid fro freedom with their synthetic flesh and their, all too real, deviant powered moans as he fucked and fucked and fucked them. Lately, however, they had become predictable, tiresome, while perfect to fuck their responses were only so varied. There were only so many options you could program into one, only so many variations on an orgasmic groan, a request for a blowjob, a terrified faux look of horror at their first anal fucking or when they were spanked raw for the first time. No, lately he had discovered that only deviants would do. With freedom of thought came unique singular orgasms, special groans and moans, individual shivers and shudders as they were fucked in different and interesting ways. He craved them now flesh would not do, only what passed for it, but with the spark of humanity burning inside as heated as their tight cunts and narrow rectums. His cock was hard for them craving their pseudo flesh.. so when he saw North model called Minka walk in, his cock strained and swelled and he devoted his attention to her. He always interviewed new applicants personally, usually proffered by their owners or purchased by his staff, this one was obvious, no verification on ownership, a classic case of a probable deviant. Just what he wanted. the whore and slut of his dreams made real. She had been admitted and escorted to his office, a corner suite which looked over the city thirty stories below. Spacious with wide leather chairs either side of a desk strewn with tablets and computers. A conversation pit of white leather couches in a semi circle, facing a hundred inch monitor screen lay off to one side, while cabinets laced with alcoholic refreshments and doors to en suites and side offices were scattered about the place. Floor to ceiling windows let in the light, while mirror glass shielded the view from any outside spectators. He sat waiting for Minka to arrive, confident that he would be able to convince himself she was a deviant, confident that she would be willing to pay the price for the freedom his company could provide for her, pay it with her moans, her tight flesh and her perfect body.