Bred for This

Unit 001 has been lost. I don't know how to take this. The report only just came in, and security is calling me. Thomas was a good guy. We had an arrangement, a system. Thomas and I had the beginnings of trust. Now, he was dead and the only one to suspect is 001. I pick up my phone and flip the green button.

"Hello?"

"Mister Darrin sir, we've confirmed 001's location. How soon do you want us to send someone to get him?"

Location? I know I've instructed them several times not to use the back hacks they see us use in testing. The crippled heel of the black market is in hiring. Society benefits from the idea that most people will work for what seems fair. The ugly underbelly leaves us hired rejects. For a moment, I lose my cool and stop it with a deep breath. I've forgotten this isn't head of security that I'm talking to.

"How did you locate 001?" I ask.

There's a long silence which confirms my suspicions.

"Uhh, we used the tracer hack thing. Our boss said that way was possible."

"Don't tell me what John told you. Did he say that you could do that?"

"No sir, uhh, we were just responding to urgent - "

"Let me explain to you why." I say, my voice growing tight.

"Ok sir."

"The trick you saw requires a reboot. The machines housed in the unit's eyes

prevent them from seeing their own body. They are sex dolls, right?"

The silence grows louder even more so, deafening to the soul. The hired gun on the other end of the line has a trickle of cowardice for a voice, but the courage to speak.

"Yes sir."

"Do we want them asking our clientele why it can't say no?"

"No sir."

"So now you see why you fucked up?"

Before he can speak, I end the conversation for him.

"See to it that John is informed of your progress and have him meet me at my location before anyone does anything else."

"Yes sir. I can get on the phone with John right now."

"I expect a written report later."

"Yes sir."

I hang up the line and hold my head in my hands, sighing as I sit on the edge of my bed. It's been so long since I've had any issues with the units that I know how to feel. These units have given me an empire, and now I feel it chipping away. I can only hope that 001 was unconscious or in the dark somewhere.

I make my way to the shower, stripping as I start up the water. A female unit picks up behind me, inspecting my mess for cleaning. The other one at my bed is refitting my sheets and getting some of my things in order, like my keys and my phone if she can find it.

I pass the mirror, and stare at the naked man in it. A premonition hits me, and I sense darkness ahead. I look at my dark skin in the mirror. I cover my face and I sigh as I pull my hands down. Opening my eyes, I examine my jaw line. Dark stubble was jutting needles under my chin. My beard is too short to have curls, and so is my hair. The muscles on my body are tense, but soft from my comfortable diet. One of the female units starts the shower for me and then waits around to see if I need anything else.

"No. Go."

She leaves without question, a brilliant smile on her face. I remember release night for the female units. Sales went up. I thought they'd eclipse the male to male market. Turned out, a chunk of my top buyers bought several units and used them for home labor among other things. I've merely copied human ingenuity.

We deal underground here, and my reputation among the white collar is paramount. I sell the best quality units, and my data security matches. We have not simply been sitting idly by while we break the law. I have kept my hobby in circuitry strong, and plan to embark on a different experience for my units. To evolve them.

After my shower, I clothe myself in dark business casual attire and head for the facilities' far exit above ground. Once clear, I head out to the parking lot and see John. John is a mixed American and a unique one at that. He's been a part of my security since its inception and has always protected my interests. In this line of work, you can't spread too big, but you need friends. A lot of my friends have secrets, and John's are heavy.

John's father was a mayor here in Austinville, New Texas. He comes from a line of wealth so long; you can trace it with today's technology all the way back to colonial America. His father provided the warmest sense of security and belonging which changed the face of Texas. He united people and was one of the first honored politicians of Greater America. And of course, he had a horrible secret.

John's siblings' mothers were girls at the inception of fertility. Fifteen years according to his father. After that they were thrown away. His father killed himself, leaving a bitter taste in John's mouth for inheritance. John was much older than his siblings and natural born, he felt he couldn't tell the truth and so he kept it. Taking care of his family from afar. We've are as loyal to each other as the skin on or backs.

When I get in the car with John, we say nothing as we depart. It's protocol to remain silent in the car until one is a certain distance from the facility. When we leave that range, John initiates the scan for bugs, and we get the all clear.

"So, 001 could be on the move."

"What?! How?" I ask.

"I heard about Michael. Sorry about that, I'll handle him. Anyway, I just traced the tablet that was paired to 001's collar. Its position moved, but it's not far away from here. He may still be in the vicinity, but there's no way of telling who is there with him."

I throw my head back into the headrest and sigh. More upsets. More issues. At this rate, I may have to discontinue 001, but I'm not so sure. 001 is unique because he was our very first functioning unit. There is still no explanation to why the combination of our drugs and tech worked on him and why that same set up worked on so many other units.

"We're about fifteen minutes out. Lets just hope we get green lights all the way."

_________________________________________________________________

For a moment I saw a boy and then he went away. I woke up in an awkward position and saw a hand and a foot near me. I thought I had been sleeping with someone until I saw they were mine. In a panic, I pulled the tablet up to get a look at my face. As soon as I saw my own reflection, the tablet blinked and now I can't see myself.

I know my skin was pinkish and very light. I know my legs are were a bit hairy and my body is very dirty. I move towards the door and feel the air outside. The sun is out now, and the sky is getting brighter. I look out and hear a road. My mind feels strange. Something begins to pour out of my mind, and I feel different emotions well up inside me. My breathing picks up and I draw tense.

Without warning, my body is moving although I do not know where. My hands reach up for the collar around my neck and I can feel it. My head turns and I stop, wild and naked. I smell the air and smell water. My nose leads me towards the deep backyard, marked by the beginning of a forest. A few meters behind it I see a small creek.

The balls of my feet slap against the ground and bleed as I rush over to the creek. Pains jab at my brain, but a small high comes and they subside. My feet are not used for walking. Most of the time I have my feet in the air. With my body still in control, it rushes over to the water.

I squat and the familiar face from tablet looks back at me and then I can't see myself again. Just the water. I still remember the face! It's clearer. My hair is dark brown, slightly curly and short. That's all I can remember. Pinkish skin and brown hair. I sigh and feel my emotions shift to a dark side of me that I barely recall. It is like the desire I have to serve, except turned negative. It feels like I need to return to that face, my face, but I do not know how and the more I try the more upset my body seems to get. It starts to make noises.

My body picks up a rock and starts to strike the collar on my neck. Soon it begins to lose control again, throwing water in futile fistfuls at the collar. I can't stop myself. I am disjointed from my own body somehow. When the high hits my head, I try to take more control over myself and I walk across the shallow creek deeper into the forest. I can hear airplanes fly overhead and my eyes snap up. My body loses control again, but it is pleasant. It is not like the high that comes and just pushes something away. It is immediate and intense. There's a white airplane overhead and the whine of its engines delight my ears. I see my hands reach for it even though I know I cannot, but I am happier when I try.

As I travel into the forest the sound of traffic scares me, but it is far. I can smell heat or smoke nearby and move that way. It smells acrid. In time, I approach a house that looks like my clients but older. Smaller. Dirtier. I see two old white men at a fire. They are throwing things into it and laughing while drinking something. My mind tells me that they are in control and that they can help me. My body is hesitant to move. I fight it and reach out for a tree and miss, slipping in the soft leaves.

The men hear me and spot me. They eye each other and begin to walk over to me. My body tries to move, but I am too tired. I do not have developed muscles. A high pours out over my head again and I can barely stand to protect myself.

As the men come over, I can see what they are drinking is not water. It is alcohol. Often my clients bring alcohol to drink before and during sex. I can smell it at a distance.

Both men are old, and one of them is tall. He's skinnier than I am but much taller than me. He wears glasses and his jaw juts outwards. He starts to laugh does not have teeth. The short one has a more rounded appearance but square jaw. His fat rolls out all over his body, and his height makes him look pudgy. With no modesty, I stand in front of them naked. The shorter man approaches me. He reaches a hand to touch my penis. My initial thought is to let him, but my body pulls back. He stops and looks at me. Now both keep laughing.

The short one starts to talk.

"What do we have here? Why you running around buck naked? What's that thing on your neck?"

I don't know what to say. I have not learned how to talk with strangers. Only clients.

"Yeah," the skinny one says. "Why's that thing blinking? You some sort of prisoner?"

I keep looking back and forth at them. I feel I need to do something, to act.

"Are you my clients? Are you friends of my client?" I ask.

They are confused by this question, and I can see it on their faces.

"... Why yes. We are your clients." The skinny one grins, sauntering around.

"What does being your client mean, boy?" the short one asks.

I know what to say, but my body doesn't want me to say it.

"I-"

A pain cracks out on my head. I stumble over and grab my bloodied head and the controls begin to administer drugs. The high is intense, but it does not interfere with the pain. The high and the pain clash and I feel like I could die.

"Damnit, I thought I'd get him on the first try," said the skinny one.

The short one moves in to inspect me. I cannot react. We are not designed to handle this sort of trauma. Our drugs can blot out pain in proportion to what is being experienced. The science is not exact, as most of the pain we blot out are insertions for anal and gagging and choking. This pain is too great.

"I think he's one of those sex things. That's probably why they got him all collared up," the short one said.

"We oughta drag him back and get it off him. Keep him. He's our lost pup!"

"Aint you something stupid! You aint never seen no movie before?" said the short one. "They's got trackers on them things. If ya take it off, ya gotta destroy it. Can't just take it off and expect it not to work no 'more."

The tall one laughs and downs the rest of his beer.

"That's why I got you as my bud."

An hour later, I am laid in a smelly bed. My neck is free, and I feel much lighter. If I could, I would jump in delight. My body stores that feeling for later. I search around in these new feelings and feel a sort of bareness. There is no high in my mind, save the residual that is fading from the strike on my head. I move my hand to check my bleeding head. It is wrapped and my fingers are dotted red at the poor bandage job. In the room corner lies the smashed collar, its technological guts exposed and blinking light dead.

The short one rolls me on my stomach, and my body tries to resist. He forces me over and begins to disrobe himself. As he does, the other one follows suit until they are both naked.

"We're your clients, right?"

The skinny one speaks before I can answer. "Serve your clients, boy."

No high is here to greet me, even though the memory of it almost brings it back. The reluctance to do anything is too small in the face of this ingrained habit. I move myself on all fours. I make sure my back his arched and my hole is aimed. The short one immediately mounts me. I feel the sticky wetness of his saliva and the tip of his soft cock rub against my asshole. His rolls of fat brush up against my ass, the caress of a greedy pig. The skinny one moves closer to me and puts his limp penis in my face, flicking it upwards at my lips as a gesture for me to open my mouth.

I do so. The short one grabs my waist and smacks my butt. He remarks on my body as being a fully-grown 'buck' with a bubble butt. He forces his semi-hard penis into my ass and there's barely enough spit to cover it. My body relaxes on instinct, but the pain is still there. He is very wide and short, and I don't experience this type of man often. His penis is a chode of unreasonable thickness. It's so wide it feels like I'm being fisted. It feels like a small can is being shoved into me, and the only way to keep myself conscious is to relax and let it happen.

Once he finds his rhythm, I feel my insides part with every thrust. He is so wide. He picks up pace, and I can feel my hole stretching around his cock like a mouth to food. With every inch, his cock keeps my heels up and my toes gripping so I can brace myself for the next. He grunts vulgarly across the room. His animalistic noises rise and finishes inside of me and slides out, my hole open for moments after, still expecting his wide girth.

The other man in front of me is excited. I suck him with full concentration as the short one slowly removes himself from the bed out of fatigue. With each motion of my lips, the taste of his old penis disgusts me, but something else happens. Something outside of my programming and even new to my feelings takes place. The light stench of piss in his pubes begins to turn me on. I whimper lightly as I swallow up his cock, taking his average size into my mouth. I feel his penis stretch and expand as I push my nostrils into his pubes and breathe. He pulls out, saving himself from an early orgasm and takes to my rear.

My body is thankful for his average size but feels dirty as he uses his partners load to lubricate himself after instructing me to push it out. He throws me on my side, pushing my top leg's knee in my chest and straddling the one underneath me by pulling it straight. Tipping me over on my side further, my asshole is perfect for his entry and he slides inside of me and begins to enjoy himself. He mumbles in sexual ecstasy, grabbing one cheek with a death grip while the other jiggles to his rhythm.

"You go ahead, I'm going to go check this machine. Make sure it's dead."

While his friend happily obliges, we hear a car rush by the house and stop abruptly in a squeal of tires. All of us pause, frozen in time. The cock inside me begins to retreat, and the feeling of his member disappears.

"Who is that?!" the skinny one asks in panic.

"I don't know," says the shorter one as he looks out of the window from a distance. "But they look like they want some trouble. Leave the faggot and let's get out of here, Jim!"

His limp cock slides out of me and both men stumble around cleaning themselves and trying to put their pants on. Hopping around on one leg, they ignore me as I tune my senses to the car. Immediately, they are distracted by the sound of loud knocking at the front door. Each of us stop to look at each other and see what the other will do.

"Get him! Keep him quiet!"

Jim makes a move for me and grabs me before I can react. Pain races out of his hands into my throat as he chokes me and lies on top of my back. I can feel his penis begin to move as it hardens against my body. The shorter man manages to put on his clothes as he walks to the door, still being hammered on by someone outside. My hope rests on whoever it is, but terror begins to strike me again as Jim gets aroused in his power coupled with drunkenness.

"I'm gonna fuck you while my buddy handles our guest. Don't worry, I'll be quick," he whispers in my ear.

Each of my cheeks hold his growing member between them. I try to resist by moving my bottom, but he attempts to slide in and is successful on the first try. His friends cock still leaving an impression on my asshole. On his first thrust, the bed squeaks out, an ally to my cause. He tries silently to finish, isolating his glutes and keeping the noise down.

The conversation at the front door is silent but growing. The short one's voice is tense and hot and whoever is beyond the door seems calm but firm. I cannot hear what is being said over Jim's hands all over my body and the sound of his ragged breathing in my ear as he tries to finish. As he arrives to his climax, his breathing picks up and the sounds of the bed get louder.

Before he can give himself away, the crack of a gunshot shouts out as I feel him climax inside my ass. His body freezes, unable to process danger and orgasm at the same time. I hear everything. The shattering of the glass, the thwack of the bullet lodging itself in Jim and the sound of the men struggling over each other as the stranger fights his way inside.

Someone is here.