English Sex Stories
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Sweet mercy..what a good boy. She imagined and She bit her lip and groaned
The limousine door opened with a sigh and she stepped out into the dazzling, diamond-studded night. Her eyes swept the crowd outside the hotel but she didn't deign to grace a single face with her attention. She was only checking that all faces were turned to her, and they were. In fact it seemed to her that every shining window in every two hundred-storey skyscraper was watching her too, and that was just as it should be.

Her gown, all but slipping free from her shoulders, seem to cling to her as if the cloth itself couldn't bear to part from her curves. It hung wide open, and beneath it her dress - shimmering, plunging, scandalous. The bellhop was drooling as he held the door open and she glided into the lobby.

The fabric of the dress was rough, and she would be damned if she was going to ruin a garment like this with a bra. Particularly when she worked so hard for a body like hers. So she revelled in the slight discomfort of the ridged golden fabric as it abrasively caressed the soft flesh of her breasts and the hardening pertness of her nipples.

Once inside the door it was the same - all eyes were on her. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and couldn't stop a smile edging into that scrupulously maintained aloofness. Her hair! What had that little man done with her hair? It was spectacular: a severely short cut around the sides and the back to fully show the divine arc of her neck and a huge golden wave rushing forwards and sweeping up into the air before her. And when she moved it bobbed and flowed like she was a force of nature.

She caught the eye of some humble brown-suited desk jockey, who seemed to be staring particularly boldly. He gazed, expressionless - what must he be thinking? How he would never touch anything like her? Never see anything like the glory of her naked?

She imagined his pathetic little paws reaching out and pushing up her million-dollar dress, his weak jaw trembling as he greedily ate up the sight of her panties (probably worth more than he made in a year) and then fumbled to pull them off her.

She reached the elevator and summoned up the sensation of his clammy fingers against her hips, pressing into her flesh as he clumsily stripped her. Oh, but she was getting turned on already! She could feel her skin starting to prickle, and her whole body feeling strangely lighter and heavier at the same time.

Could she really derive some pleasure from a man like that? In her head he was reverently dividing her perfect legs and descending, his tongue already lolling out, desperate for her taste, desperate to please her. Well, if he were willing to worship her enough, she supposed she could.

With a slight jump she realised that she had exited the silent, bullet-like elevator on the one hundred and eightieth floor without thinking, and was standing outside the door to her room.

She smiled and rested her hand on the cool, authentic wood (the sign of a truly upmarket hotel), savouring the thought of what was to come. Inside there was a beautiful toy for her to play with, and she was in just the right mood.

Her hand moved across to the lock panel and she pressed her palm against it, allowing the hotel to scan and check her identity. There was a faint chime and the door swung inwards.

Inside the toy was standing by the window, watching the few vehicles that were authorised to operate at this height swoop through the electric night. Silhouetted from behind he looked perfect: lean and muscular in a suit that fitted him to a tee. She licked her lips.

He hadn't noticed her enter, so she placed her hands on her hips pushing back the gown that was still clinging to her for dear life and stretching the already tight gold cloth of her dress across her hips so that it slid up even more. The hem cut across the top of her thighs now and she knew that when he turned he would be able to see just the faintest, maddening hint of the bottom of her panties between her lean, trim legs. She clicked her tongue very lightly.

He turned and his mouth dropped open.

"My god, it's... you." He was holding a glass, a cocktail in his right hand she saw now, and he was very handsome. Short, sandy hair and there was an innocence about him too, perhaps an eagerness to please? Perfect.

It was incredible what those white coats at Life Labs could do now; you would almost swear he was human.

"Of course it is, silly boy," she purred, and felt the fire rush through her as his eyes roved brazenly around her body. She finally shook off that troublesome gown and moved towards him, a vision of golden energy, glowing in the dim light that came only from a single table lamp and the city outside.

She hungrily studied his shape as she came closer. She could see his strength in the broad, flat slant of his shoulders; and he had power inside him too, she knew from the way he held his head back. But what about his prick? She was already longing to know. She would soon enough.

And his face was so open! He was like a fawn in the headlights she thought, it was all just so, so perfect. They said that these days Dolls could mimic human thought processes to an alarming degree; their reactions would be entirely lifelike. She felt her left hand clench into a fist involuntarily. It was all perfect.

Closer, she could smell him now. Soap and a little sweat and even less scent. The company had excelled themselves. She pretended to stretch her arms back behind her, and obediently his eyes shot to her breasts, pushed forwards, pressed, almost bulging against that tight gold barrier.

"Silly boy," she started, her voice playful and light, "what are you drinking? A martini?"

"Uh... yes, I just..."

Savagely she swung her left arm around and up from behind her back. Her stance changed to provide stability and she slapped the glass straight out of his hand. The liquid painted an instant spiral as the glass span and exploded against the window.

"Who fucking told you that you could drink?" Her voice was still playful, but her body was coiled, about to strike. He was bigger than her, taller and surely stronger, but his eyes were wide and he was already bowing his head as if conceding to the alpha female. He was just what she had asked for.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think."

"No you didn't Silly Boy. Bad boy, and don't look at the fucking floor when I'm talking to you. Look at me!" Still her tone was friendly, but the ice underneath was starting to show through.

He raised his head and made brave, steady eye contact. She smiled, not a trace of malice in her face now, and brought her left hand up to caress the back of his neck. His skin was perfect, tiny hairs prickling against her fingers as they rose up off the back of his neck. She marvelled again at just how perfectly he was created, how real he felt. He shuddered slightly.

Gently, their bodies still apart, she pulled his face down towards her. "Good. Now, are you going to keep being good?" He was close, so close she was just breathing the words. And still she pulled him closer. He felt, rather than heard the words as she pushed them onto his lips.

"Yes," he breathed back.

"Are you going to do everything I tell you to?" It was a whisper so quiet he barely remembered to answer. He was longing for those lips, shining with gloss in the half-light of the room, to cross those last few millimetres and for them to finally touch.


"Good," she sighed and her right hand came up as a fist, hard and fast, driving into his flat, muscled stomach.

They made him strong, she realised as all of his air escaped and he started to double over; his muscular torso had really resisted the blow. But then, she really knew how to throw a punch. She stepped back neatly, allowing him to fold and collapse onto his hands and knees, heaving for air.

"Do you know my name?" She didn't wait for an answer, just dealt him a swift sharp kick to the ribs as he struggled to straighten up. He yelped in pain as the toe of her (gold, of course) heels dug into him.

"Yes! Yes, Cassandra."

She circled him, allowing him to straighten up. He knelt on the floor, not looking up at her, but shamelessly gawping at the temptation that lay hidden by the hem of her dress. What a brave little Doll! He didn't seem worried about what she might do to him at all.

"Very good," she drawled, drawing out the first word until it was almost a moan. She stopped right in front of him and turned so that her back was to him, planting her legs firmly apart just as she had when she hit him. She arched her back, pushing out her flat stomach and pushing her perfect ass up towards him. Her hands brushed lightly over her breasts, following the curve of her body down to her waist where each hand grabbed a handful of the rough fabric, pulling the dress impossibly tight over her succulent rear.

He made a noise somewhere in his throat and she smiled. She knew that in a way it was absurd to put on any kind of show for a Doll - after all, he was here for her and he was just circuits sparking reactions to stimulus - but she wasn't interested in just the action, the event of fucking. If she wasn't at least pretending to engage with him there was no way she would get off.

She twisted the fabric, feeling it pulling down on her nipples, slipping over them, and at the back it was sliding up the incline of her cheeks. He made another noise - oh God, was he whimpering? So perfect! She arched her back again and pulled that golden cloth up, so that with a soft sound it slipped inch by inch over her delicate skin.

He knelt, rapt, as her divine rear was exposed. The curve of her ass and... now he could see the golden line of her thong plunging down between those cheeks. She looked over her shoulder at him and, delighted by the effect she was having, shifted her dress the last small stretch so that it nestled at the base of her back.

She was exposed to him now, and for some reason exposing herself like this - to a Doll - was turning her on even more.

"What are you waiting for?" she giggled, "Kiss it!"

"I... uh..." but he didn't have any words for what he wanted to express, so she heard the clumsy shuffle of his knees as he came forwards. His hands were on her hips, warm and gentle and then the soft, wet touch of his lips and the scratch of his stubble on her left cheek.

"Mmmm..." she growled, and he moved the right. Again the harsh scrape of his facial hair teased her, and she loved it. This time the pressure of his kiss was followed up by the wet, dirty drag of his tongue. She gasped; he was smearing his spit all over her divine skin! She loved it. "More," she commanded and he licked again, hungrily, like a dog. Then back to the left cheek where he repeated the action.

She laughed and relaxed just a little, letting her thighs rest lightly on the slope of his shoulders. There was a pause as he drew away slightly then she felt his head dip back to her body and before she knew it he was biting her.

It was gentle, her firm flesh was trapped between his teeth and he was tugging - just barely. But still, it was enough to make her squeal and laugh again.

"Oh mercy! Dirty boy! Bad boy!" She reached back and cuffed his head softly, not wanting him to stop. He didn't, he bit her right cheek now, and his hands became bolder too, slipping from their safe position on her hips around her. They crept over her skin and she felt tiny electric charges flicker between the flesh of her thighs and his firm hands.

She should really have stopped him, the whole point of having a Doll was so that she could really taunt and abuse him without feeling guilty about it, but she liked the way this one worked. He bit her right ass cheek again, harder and she was the one making a wordless noise this time. She let her head fall back and her eyelids drooped as his hands pressed against her. They were flat against her, beneath the line of her panties, just beneath her hip bones, the fingers together pointing down at the swoop of fabric that covered her precious cleft.

Then they moved again and she shivered with pleasure. They were prying inquisitively at the edges of the soft, gold silk and before she knew it they had slipped under and in from both sides at once. His fingers already seemed to know her so well, they immediately found that tiny, trimmed tuft of hair and tugged at it. She stifled a soft cry and felt a kind of shame that she was letting him do whatever he wanted. Then again, all he wanted was to please her.

His tongue was between her cheeks now, licking up and then down, leaving a wet, tingling trail, hungrily delving as if trying to free the thin band of the thong all by itself. And now his fingers, slowly and deliberately, were making their way down to the opening just beneath that tuft. Oh no, should she stop him? Could she?

"Oh no," she gasped aloud, and then it was too late. His right hand was curling around and under her and was gently rubbing at her lips, seeking to gain entry. His left hand was gently exploring the area above this, hunting down her little clit. And she was wet, she could feel it now. Wet and ready. "Oh no, no..."

He didn't ask if she wanted him to stop, despite these vocal reservations. And suddenly both of his bold, exploring hands found their treasure and she bent over with a soft cry, leaning back into him properly now, feeling his stubble scratch between the pert cheeks of her ass as his tongue continued to tease her. One finger was inside her - no, two! Two fingers driving in, penetrating, Christ he worked fast. And the other hand had found her clit so quickly, had pulled and squeezed it to expose the sensitive nub and now he was... oh God, he was pinching it! Between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and pulling and now...

She gasped for air, he had released it and now was just skimming his fingers lightly over it. But it was so sensitive, her thighs were trembling and still his tongue was licking, his face buried in her, and now she felt his tongue poking and probing at the tiny fabric line that protected the tiny pucker of her asshole. Already she could feel him trying to tongue it out of the way and she blushed.

Why was she blushing? This was absurd, he was just a Doll that would pleasure her tonight, and his memory would be erased and tomorrow no one would know. Then these rational thoughts slipped away as his fingers started to pump in and out of her and his skipping, skimming fingers started to press down a little more.

"Oh fuck, yes," she gasped, her reservations stripped away as rays of pleasure blasted her body, "that's a good boy." He didn't seem to be able to expose her puckered rear opening, and she was a little disappointed about that. But he had full access to - full control of - her other opening and as his strong fingers split her open and manipulated her beneath the silk of her panties she felt her control slipping more and more.

She risked a look down, and just the sight of his big hands bulging out and distending the sheer fabric of her underwear, the knuckles slipping back and forth under the shimmering fabric, was enough to amplify her arousal tenfold.

"Sweet mercy... what a good boy." She bit her lip and groaned, long and loud as his fingers started to make the wet, slutty noises that she knew precipitated her climax. There was the feeling too, rising up and coming into view, still in the distance but approaching at an incredible speed. Her own hands had been unoccupied, floating in the air but now they urgently, savagely pulled at her dress, extricating her arms from the shoulder straps and dragging it down beneath her breasts. As they finally gained their freedom her small, firm breasts bobbed up, the nipples hard and she immediately gave them the attention they craved, raking her nails across them.

His fingers worked at an incredible speed, never slowing, never allowing her a moment of respite. Her entire body was alight with some unholy fire that this Doll was creating and she started twisting and writhing from the waist up, as if she both wanted to escape and wanted to give herself over to this completely.

Then came the point at which she knew there was no escape. There was nothing she could do now that would not result in her coming.

And so she came.

"Oh sweet fuck. Sweet fucking mercy... AH!" She rocked forward onto the toes of her high heels, lifting her ass away from his mouth, but not escaping from his fingers which continued to fuck her pussy even as it squeezed itself onto them, tight and hot. The climax shook her, surprised her and left her giggling and dizzy. He knew just when to stop too, and his fingers extracted themselves from beneath her panties just when the final blast of pleasure had dissipated.

She staggered a couple of steps and collapsed into a huge, luxurious armchair. Her force field of superiority had, at least temporarily, been removed and she removed her panties in a surprisingly carefree way. She lay back in the seat and lifted her feet up into the air, bringing her legs together and her knees up to her chest to extricate herself from the wet mess of silk. He was standing now, smiling with pride and watching mesmerised as she stripped herself and exposed herself to him properly.

She sat back in the chair now, feet on the floor and her dress little more than a wide belt, hiked up to expose her pussy, pushed down to expose her breasts. Her own fingers made the journey past her tiny strip of sandy blonde hair and explored her wet, fingered lips.

"That was very good," he was watching her every move so intently it was a little disconcerting, "but you only distracted me for a moment. Strip." The command was delivered with same playful yet steely tone as before. She idly played with herself, slouched in the chair and letting her juices stain the expensive furniture as he obeyed.

His movements were simple and economical. First his shoes and socks, then his shirt, then his dress pants. All in a neat pile on the floor to the side of him. He only slowed when it was only his tight cotton boxers left. The light was hitting him from the side and the extent of his arousal was plain to see. She laughed openly, her eyes roving and taking in his flat stomach, his broad chest and the gorgeous muscles of his shoulders. Yummy, she thought.

"What are you waiting for?" He didn't answer, but a dirty smile flickered across his lips for a split second. He tugged the boxers down from the waistband at either side and the front became hooked over the jutting, solid erection that he was so proudly sporting. "Oooh!" she giggled with delight as he pulled harder and the fabric pushed his swelling prick down, then suddenly slipped over it and the pulsing shaft shot up.

And oh, it was worth the wait. Not spectacularly lengthy, it was nevertheless nothing to be ashamed of, and it was deliciously, divinely thick. Just as she liked.

She applauded as he placed his underwear with his other clothes. Then she beckoned him over then had him stand before her, just to be inspected, for a few moments. She couldn't resist for long though. Her hand reached out and her delicate, manicured fingers wrapped themselves partway around his wide shaft. She pumped it - three swift jerks - and he made a bestial sound.

"Delightful." She released him and sat back, devilish fires flickering in her eyes. "Make yourself come please."

He froze for a moment and seemed a little confused. Had he expected that, after turning her on so much she would beg him for his cock? She laughed at the frown that slipped across his pleasant features.

"Don't you understand? Let me be more specific. Turn and face the window - so I get a good view of the profile of that fucking prick - and jerk it with your hand until you shoot your hot, creamy cum onto this deep-pile carpet. And if I'm happy with the performance you put on then maybe we'll play more."
"I understand, Cassandra." He flexed his fingers and then wrapped them in what must have been a comfortable position for him - high up on the shaft she noted, enclosing the head too. Interesting that a Doll would have a preference like that, and again for a split second thoughts sprang up of exactly how their computer brain thing worked.

Only for a split second though, as she had far more pressing matters to deal with. It was the curve of his hand that dragged her back - making her shiver, reflecting as it did the thickness of the member it was hiding.

Her fingers walked her hand back to her pussy as he started. Slowly, gorgeously, his whole body shuddering, he started to pump his fat cock. She dipped into herself as he did so, and her body vibrated with pleasure.

She leaned forward and, with her other hand, gave his ass a stinging spank. The muscles were tight and trembling she felt, as if he were struggling to control himself. Wow! These Dolls were really incredible. She ran her hands over his firm cheeks again, as if soothing them, and felt the muscles underneath. Then she pinched him, hard on each cheek, making him yelp hoarsely. It was too dark to see, but she wondered if her savage pinch would leave the red welts it would on a real boy.

The soft, wet sound of his come arriving to wet the head of his prick snapped her back into the moment and she fell into the chair, fingers strumming ever so lightly over her own sensitive clit. He'd been a bit too rough on it, now she couldn't really attack the red little button like she sometimes liked to. It was ok though, she was pretty sure she could work around it she thought, as she slipped her forefinger between her own lips.

Her eyes locked on his slow, steady strokes and the flesh of his prick and that juicy, red head as it was exposed and then hidden, exposed and hidden. Suddenly she gasped and blushed. Her pussy was just so eager! It was virtually sucking her finger in! He really had turned her on, like a coffee machine, like he had just flicked a switch.

At this realisation, suddenly she felt something shift inside her. She had to really hammer home that she was in charge here, she felt, and as he paused for a second to reset his hand she spanked him hard again, quickly following that with another vicious pinch to his right ass cheek. He grunted in pain.

"No stopping, no hesitation, just keep going. How long do you think you can go without coming? Hmm?" She saw his eyes flickering down to her, and then felt them hungrily examining the way her sopping pussy glistened in the half-light. "Oh, you can't look at me silly boy!" she chastised with another spank and another pinch, "Jerk off looking at the traffic and the city! Look straight ahead."

He wrenched his eyes off her with some effort and stared directly forwards, his hand renewing its efforts on his desperate prick.

Cassandra had felt that things were slipping away when his irresistible fingers made her come. Now she felt restored to her throne and, still watching him jerk, she hopped to her feet and moved round behind him. She watched the way his muscular shoulders shook as his breath became increasingly choppy, and bit her lip with delight.

"I'm stripping off now," she informed him, sliding her bunched-up dress down and wriggling her hips to let the rumpled sheath slip off. "I'm stripping very slowly and sexily... it's a shame you have to stare out the window and wank like a monkey. But you do." He flinched as she giggled, and his arm seemed to slow. "Don't slow you bad boy. I want you to come. Come for me, and hard."

Again, a desperate snarl escaped from his throat. He must want to fuck her so very badly, she thought. With his robot impulses firing like that. Well, she wasn't exactly against the idea herself, she just wanted to see him spurt first. Time to speed things up. She kicked off her heels, and without them he seemed even taller, but her hips still came up only a little below his. Stark naked she stepped in, very close behind him.

"What's the matter? Need more stimulation? Don't have any imagination?" she taunted. The slightest of movements and her hard nipples were brushing against the middle of his back. She smiled as he tensed even more, if that were possible. "Just imagine that you're back here and I'm in front of you," another movement; her breasts pressed against him and the tiny brush of her pubic hair touched the bottom of his firm ass. She craned her neck so she could see over his shoulder, see his thick prick being fucked by his own hand.

Her hands rested lightly on his hips, then suddenly gripped them firmly. "And then imagine that you're thrusting into my tight, hot pussy." On the word 'thrust' she did just that, slamming her slim, feminine hips into his ass, fucking him with her invisible dick. If she had had one their heights would have been perfect - her prick would have jutted up and, since she was shorter than him, been at the perfect angle to penetrate his wet little pussy.

"Ooooh, oh, oh. Thrusting and fucking me..." she started moving to a rhythm; her hands possessing him, her crotch assaulting him. The effect was swift. After three solid humps he started groaning, and at five he started swearing.

"Fuck! Shit!"

"Yeah, that's right," she growled, still humping him hard and fast, using each thrust as extra emphasis as she spoke. "You should be scared. I'm a big stud and I'm going to fuck your hot," her crotch slapped against his ass, "little," grinding against him like she was on heat, "pussy until I fill it with my thick come."

Looking down she saw the first wild spurt come arcing out of his tool on her seventh thrust.

"Oh God. Oh God I can't hold it!" He started hunching forwards as his hand slowed and a second, a third, a fourth splatter of come was sent flying onto the carpet before him. She pulled him back, so she could see everything: the way the come moved through the air, the way his dick twitched and bobbed as if trying to catch its breath, the trembling slab of his chest.

"Oh God!" she sneered into his ear, "I came!"

She snorted with laughter, gave him one final thrust, a solid spank, and then moved around in front of him. He was seeing her naked for the first time, she realised, so she bent at the waist, giving him a divine view of her naked ass and gleaming pussy. She ran a finger through one of the sticky strings he had shot so wastefully onto the floor and brought it to her lips. Drying there on the floor his juice looked so pathetic - she shuddered with joy at how cruel and wonderful it was.

"Mmmm, you taste amazing boy."

"Th... thank you," he gasped, slightly disoriented.

"Oh, should I say I taste amazing?" she mused, swiping two fingers through his cream this time and licking them clean with her clever tongue. "You did so little, that cock is practically mine."

She was bent over, sucking on her fingers, looking up at him with sinful intent. They remained frozen in this obscene tableau for almost a minute - she: displaying herself wantonly to him, he: spent and shaking, his hand gently holding his cock. Heavy, creamy ejaculate was still dripping from his fingers onto the luxurious carpet.

When that obedient prick finally showed signs of shrinking - pulsing and bobbing a little lower in his hand - she made her next move. Still looking back over her shoulder she ran both hands from the small of her back, down and up over the slight curve of her slender hips and squeezed the tight cheeks of her own ass, pulling them apart slightly.

"Well?" Her hands slipped over the hard curve of her rear and onto her thighs, where they rested for a moment. "I think you've had long enough, don't you?" They moved again, around her thighs and to the wet pink cleft that was exposed to him between them. "Get that fucking cock hard again." Delicately, she used her fingers to open herself, showing him even more.

He swallowed with an almost cartoon-like audible gulp and gingerly started to caress his sensitive tool. It was only at half mast now, and his fingers were so wet and stained with his fluid that they made a deliciously dirty sticking, slipping sound as he went to work. She giggled.

"Oh mercy, you are an absolute gem," she purred and, releasing herself, she straightened up and moved over to the bed, beckoning him to follow with one crooked finger. Nude, the flickering light of the city clung to her slender, petite frame like she was the only thing in the room. Her movements were slow, languid, already seeming post-coital; but her eyes were blazing with a fierce desire.

The bed was huge and so soft that her knees sunk into it as she climbed on. Taking regular glances at his cock, and the hand that was ministering to it, she destroyed the sheets, rolling and tearing at them until they were a messy tangle across the bed. Then she dragged herself back onto her knees, leaning back on her haunches, her head thrown back, her golden blonde quiff soaring up into the air. She stared at him impatiently.

"Ready? Ready to fuck yet?" She felt hot and - God - her nipples were aching for stimulation. She brought up her hands and her nimble fingers tweaked and flicked them, scratching that itch for a moment at least. "Mercy, you're slow. I expected more to be honest." Her hands slipped over her perfect skin back to her pussy, on finger slipping easily in. She bit her lip to stifle a laugh - it felt so good to touch herself right now. "Oh mercy. I could come again right now! What's wrong with you?"

"I'm trying..." he moaned, his voice tailing off into a kind of whine. It was exhilarating to see this Doll with the body of a muscular stud made to feel insecure and unable to satisfy her. Again, it was exactly what she wanted. Should she tip the Life Labs people? She couldn't remember how it worked.

"If you don't hurry up I'm just going to finger myself silly right now and kick your cute little behind out into the corridor stark naked." Without even really meaning to her fingers started working on the first half of that threat, slipping in and out of her slick opening. First one finger, but that was clearly not enough so two fingers, and two fingers seemed so easy that before she knew it she had three fingers sunk into her pussy. She purred again, a horny feline, leaning forward and supporting herself with one hand.

"Fuck. Fuck. Ok, I'm ready."

"Really?" Her eyes had been closed but they snapped open and sure enough, to her delight, the gorgeous girth of his prick had been restored and it was jutting up in the air, standing to attention just for her.

"Yummy," she said, and with girlish enthusiasm she span herself round so that she was on all fours, facing away from him. "Get that fat prick up here, toy."

He hurried to obey; the sight of her swaying ass, the pert, dirty curve of her cheeks and her eager pussy just waiting for him made him almost trip over his own feet. He veritably leapt onto the bed, and once there he wasted no time in bringing his wide shaft to bear on her hot, pink target. He hesitated, seemingly unsure if positive action on his part would bring some kind of punishment, but she quickly took the decision out of his hands, sliding herself over the rumpled sheets, backwards, towards him.

Her hand reached beneath her and between her legs, her small digits unable to contain his whole circumference she nevertheless guided him so that the shining head of his prick was resting gently against the sticky heat of her lips. He groaned, so close to the paradise he longed for, and even she couldn't stop a sigh of pleasure escaping her lips.

She was so wet, so ready for him, it was obvious that with the slightest thrust he would slip right in. But he didn't get a chance to thrust as she removed her guiding hand and, with a savage grunt of satisfaction, leaned back, impaling herself on him.

Inside her he felt hot, burning hot, and for a moment the sensation obliterated every other thought she had. She thought she might have lost her mind, and certainly, for a split second she forgot her own name. Neither of them moved, neither of them could have moved if they wanted to, they just knelt - her hips tight against his crotch, his length fully sheathed by her body.

She felt... filled. The size of him - the girth that was - stretched her in a way that was divinely satisfying. The fact that a prick like his had penetrated her so easily was testament to just how fucking hot she had been.

"Oh, fuck." He seemed to recover first, and with a soft curse he started to pull himself from her, and the friction of this, the feeling of this, hammered home to both of them just how tight their situation was. He was revelling in it when her voice rang out.

"Stop right there, Toy." He froze and looked down at her. She wasn't looking back at him, in fact she was slumped down on her elbows, her forehead against the sheets, trying with all her might to stay in control. Her voice cracked and wavered, but she still found the strength to command him. "Who has been in charge all night?"

"You..." his voice broke, and he coughed, trying to compose himself, "you have Cassandra."

"And do you think that's going to change now?"

"...No." Her heavenly pussy squeezed him, and he yelped.

"Fucking..." she took a deep breath and heaved herself back onto her hands, "...right. Just put that prick back where it was." With a growl he obeyed, sinking himself back into her. She felt every millimetre, but she didn't let it sway her. "Now, the last game is that I get to fuck you. If you move, even the slightest bit, even a single inch, then this is all over and you don't get to fuck me after all."

He was silent, and she couldn't bring herself to look at him, she was working too hard on keeping herself together. "Understand?"

"Yes, I understa..."

She couldn't wait another second, and with a gasp of pre-orgasmic bliss she leaned her body forwards, dragging herself off the fat shaft as far as she could and then thrust all her weight back onto it.

"Oooooh, mercy! That fucking prick!"

"Fuck! My fucking God." He threw his bead back and thrust his hands behind his back, as if afraid that if they weren't restrained he might grab her hips and disobey without thinking. She repeated the action, half giggling, half squealing.

"Your Goddess, you mean?"

"My Goddess! Yes!"

Her strokes over him were smooth and strong, but slow. It wasn't easy to fuck herself back onto him, she found. She had to do a lot of work with her hips, bucking them and working his prick in and out like that, and it was quickly exhausting. Then again, the pleasure she derived from knowing that he was just a toy, just a shaft for her to fuck, easily made up for this.

"What are you, dirty boy?" she spat out, between ragged gasps for air. His shaft was incredible, it was just too wide by the perfect amount, and just short enough that she could satisfyingly fuck her hips back onto it. Any longer and she would have been hard pressed to manoeuvre herself.

"I don't know," he moaned, sounding distraught. She looked over her shoulder at him now, as her hips pulled her hot, wet pussy off his throbbing cock, then slammed it back down, engulfing him, squeezing him, making him cry, in a hoarse bellow, "I'm your toy!"

"Very good. Nothing but my big-dicked fuck toy."

His whole body was rigid, tense she saw, his eyes closed and his head thrown back. What was he thinking in that Doll computer brain, or whatever it was? Exercising every iota of will to stop himself from just grabbing her hips, forcing her face down into the sheets and taking her at his speed? She was dizzy, every thrust she made onto his godly cock made her feel like she was a match being dragged over a matchbox - any moment she was just going to catch fire.

She started losing focus, still swinging her whole body forwards and back, bucking her hips and fucking him good and hard. But she started wondering if she could tease the Doll beyond the point of whatever machine sanity he had - so that he just snapped, grabbed her and made her submit to whatever desires he had. Bringing her head down and forcing that wide shaft between her lips, or using his weight to crush her into the bed, his big hands spreading her ass cheeks and...

Those thoughts were kind of fun, but she found she couldn't maintain them for some reason. In her mind the picture blurred and reset - he was down on all fours while she knelt behind him, rubbing her hungry slit against his firm thigh while she milked his cock like he was a cow. He was wearing a collar, chained to the bed post, whimpering while she and another girl fondled each other in the armchair. He was tied, spread-eagled on the bed, while her hand, slick with lubricant, made the perfect hole for him to fuck, but hovered just out of reach as he jerked his hips pathetically trying to reach it.

She penetrated herself again with his cock. Her body sang, the match was dragged again. Surely this wasn't true, but she thought she felt every ridge and every vein as it slipped between her tender lips and into her hungry, demanding hole. She wanted to insult him, to curse him, but knew if she opened her mouth nothing would come out but pants, whines, grunts and moans. She bit her lip and hummed, but even that started rising in pitch, high and sexy.

She had found a rhythm somehow. She wasn't really able to move much on him, but she was moving a little and the friction between them - the feeling of the throbbing flesh of his cock filling her - was more than she could cope with anyway.

She knew that the match was being dragged back and forwards very fast now, and there was no way it was going to remain unlit for long and... oh mercy! Who's hand was that on her clit? Fumbling clumsily to rub it and expose it and... oh, it was hers? She didn't remember deciding to work her own clit but... She fucked him and the match was dragged and...

Oh no, was she about to come?

Her mouth flew open and a positively ultrasonic squeal burst forth. She was frozen, trembling, vibrating, her ass flush with his hips, her pussy completely enveloping his prick. And as she came (because she was certainly was coming, and coming hard) her wonderful pussy squeezed him hard and he lost the battle he had been waging so valiantly. He was a balloon, stretched to bursting point and then given just one more, tiny blow.

She was trying to find words, to tell him that he could come when suddenly he did so. She felt him throbbing and twitching and she felt heat, fluid heat inside of her. The Doll was filling her with his come, and still he was obeying, remaining perfectly still - pretty much just a post with a cock, spurting again and again inside her perfect, pink pussy.

She arched her back and hung her head, one hand a tight fist, bunching up the sheets and supporting her while the other flicked backwards and forwards across her clit; and that sensation and the bucking, shooting prick that was coming inside her dragged her orgasm out longer and longer...

She hadn't breathed for so long that she suddenly started heaving for breath, and when she had enough air in her lungs she howled. The moment was incredible and the moment seemed to be going to last forever, but slowly she realised that the flame she had struck started to die down. She felt him too, spent now and shaking, but she couldn't pull herself off him. Her arms were still far from obeying her orders, they just propped her up, her right hand coming away from her pussy shining and making another fist within the sheets.

"Oh mercy," she said again, and her voice sounded strange and strained to her ears. Finally she found the strength to pull herself of him, and for a moment the feeling of his prick as it was dragged from her was almost enough to set her off again. It slipped out with a disgusting, obscene slurp and she felt a little of his cream, the come that had looked so good wasted on the floor, squeezed out of her freshly-fucked pussy. It trickled a short way and soaked and tangled into her pubic hair.
She opened her mouth to say something, but he got there first.

"Doll unit: Cassandra. Voice key: Christopher. Function: Stop."

She stopped.

- - -

The man from Life Labs, an unassuming, instantly forgettable type in a brown suit, entered the hotel room to find his client clad in the complementary gown and slumped in an armchair. The Doll unit was frozen, down on all fours on the bed, naked and with her mouth open as if she were about to speak. As he crossed the room, he saw come, both hers and the client's, gleaming on her perfect thighs. He didn't think much of it, he'd seen it many times before.

"Mr Cooper. How was it?"

"It was... incredible. It's just... It looks so much like her." Christopher Cooper, his hand still a little shaky, lifted a glass of some liquor or other to his lips. His eyes never left the Doll unit. "And her personality too was... it was very similar. You said it's not the real thing yet?"

"Doll unit: Cassandra. Voice key: operator. Function: clean." The doll was suddenly animated again, but this time there was no trace of any of the taunting, teasing personality. She stood up and with a relaxed gait, strolled into the bathroom. Seconds later the shower started.

The man in the brown suit turned back to Cooper. "That's right, you and your former wife had a very unique relationship. It's taking the boys at Personalities a lot longer than they thought to really capture it."

"I see."

"But we had the body finished, so we fitted the lexicon you gave us and used the closest personality match we had. Actually, she thought that you were the Doll."

"I gathered. It worked very well. Uh... thank you."

"Please, no more thanks are necessary. It's all part of the service. And if I may offer a personal aside - your wife was a remarkable woman. It's an honour to try and create this... tribute to her." In the background the shower stopped.

"I miss her so much, since she passed..." Cooper sighed, "I couldn't work, I couldn't sleep." His second sigh was a deep, wrenching one. The man from Life Labs hoped that he wouldn't cry, that always made him feel strange. "Thank you for giving me my life back."

"Sir, that's what we do. We make sure your dreams never really die."

Cassandra - the Cassandra Doll - appeared quietly at the bathroom door, awaiting instructions. Her face was without expression and her body was naked, spotless and perfect. Both men stared at her without speaking.

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