[Features: Humiliation, small penis humiliation, cyberpunk, brain hacking, post orgasm torture, rape and molestation, premature ejaculation, female masturbation]
Cassandra, or as everyone actually called her, Cassy, was a bit of an odd duck. She had grown up in the System and that had most certainly not helped anything, moving from one bad home to the next and sometimes living in modern orphanages called Foster Care housing. Either way, it had helped her quickly get use to what everyone felt sooner or later. Power Disparity.
The Club's music was loud and the lights were strobing enough to give a regular man a seizure.
That was a healthy part of the why. Why the way she was the way she was. But it wasn't the whole story. Sure, a shitty childhood growing up, being helpless, was a strong part of it. But it wasn't everything. Here in Cyber City (renamed from Franklin City due to the mayor having extraordinarily bad taste), and most of the surviving planet by now, the Power disparity was insane. One poor man could starve and die on the streets and another man with money could augment himself to be able to withstand high caliber bullets and think at 10x the speed of a normal human. And that was without getting into the really high tech level individuals.
She saw a man with robotic eyes peering at a woman whose entire face seemed to be designed from carefully crafted metal and had neon lights flowing through the individual strands of her hair. A common cosmetic trend recently.
Being helpless for so long, in a few.... Difficult homes... had started her on the path. That was for sure. But it was puberty that had shifted the focus of that desire. And it had been an incredibly nasty, near life-ruining break up, that had really driven the point home. Everything else had been, well, time and bitterness. A common enough story really. Except instead of becoming a high class whore, or a dominatrix, or cracked and murdered someone in cold blood, her tastes her turned a little sharper, a little more sinister. She was once told she was the type of woman who liked to pull a prank and then marinate in the joke for a few days before saying that it was a joke. The worst type of person, basically. One that leaned more towards, well, the nastier side of the spectrum.
She passed by a Full Android dancer. More than a few of the moves were both sexually appealing and physically impossible. She felt a brief sensation of pity and empathy for those poor bitches and bastards. You don't ever come back from Full Android, there's nothing left to come back to. She shook her head and kept walking.
Still, she had her own Code. Once you became, well, what she had become, you either had to have one or lose too much of yourself in the process. A monster and demon were separated by one having a code and she was perfectly happy being one but not the other. A thin line but at least there was a line. Her morals were crap, but she had them. The rules were simple, but effective. No rape. No murder.
Everything else was kinda fair game. Sadly for the world, her definition of rape was strict and unflexible.
Molestation on the other hand... Finally. She had been walking around The Club for a while now, hoping to find a man with the right cybernetics but it wasn't like they were exactly common in men. They came in exactly two different body sets. And sure, a man could get a few pieces here and there, but it took a special kind of man willing to have surgery on their dick, regardless of situation. The brain, at least, was a common surgery item nearly everyone had. That said something about the human race and she was happy to take advantage of it. You could even say she relied almost entirely on that fact, for her kinks to be possible.
The man in front of her didn't exactly look anything too far from baseline. Besides some metal above the nose that could've just been cosmetic, at first glance, he seemed totally normal. He wasn't. She knew that fully naked, his body would look like a well sculpted Adonis and his spine would be entirely metal. Superhuman in all the ways that counted, and a few that really shouldn't, without giving anything away. Like understated wealth, which is mostly what these type of men were the type of. Everyone's pockets and personalities determined what type of bodies they had, no different from looking at someone's physical possessions. Dirt poor? Nothing. Poor? Tiny things but obvious things. False muscles, grafted robotic outer parts, etc etc. Maybe a prosthetic. Middle class is where things really widened out. Where people had options.
The aptly named Male Package C3 wasn't anything special per se. You wouldn't find it on the front cover of anything or anywhere, despite how expensive it was. Because it wasn't special, it wasn't obvious, it didn't even make you more of what you already were. It restructured your body and bones to be Pretty Great, and gave a few add on attachments. It was the type of body someone with money to spend, but not that much money, would buy and someone who was cool, calm, collected, and rational. They understood the world was now a world of excellence and that sometimes, standing out can be just as bad as blending in. It was a hidden gun in your pocket type of body when they could reach out and crush your head like a watermelon.
Or...
"Yeah, we could go back to my place. I'm sure I could show you girls a good time." The man said, causing two tipsy women to giggle.
Or, it was the type of body for smooth bastards that saw the penis resizing mod and decided they absolutely had to have it at all costs. Despite it not being a popular option for a reason. She loved finding those type of guys.
"Oh? If you're going to show anyone a good time, perhaps you could show me what that body of yours could really do?"
The man looked up and his smile could've made a woman melt. She was certainly excited but not for quite the same reasons as the man before her.
"And who do I call such a lovely woman?"
"Cassy."
"Darius. And I would certainly say my body could do a lot. There's quite a lot to show after all." He chuckled to himself and took a drink from his glass.
"I have a backroom setup, bed included. Perhaps you'd like to show me right now?" Cassy suggested with a lewd smirk.
A lesser or at least shyer man would've sputtered or done more than raise their eyebrow and put down their glass and smiled widely.
"Oh, well with that type of invitation, I couldn't possibly be so rude as to refuse." He replied.
And that was all it took. Honestly, if you have charm and a decent body, you were set to get laid in a club. If you had neither, you could buy a body and be good. Failing both? Be a woman. Hell, due to certain activist campaigns, turning into a woman wasn't even that hard. She looked over to the Full Androids, a shudder passing through her slightly as she remembered a few permanently 'rented' bedrooms in this very club. Never sign a contract to become one though. No matter how desperate. Poor bastards.
She walked with Darius back to her room, leading the way. Not only because she knew the room number but also because she wanted to give Darius something to look at to keep him distracted. No need for his pretty boy charm to turn into intelligence and suspicion. That was always an annoying mess to deal with.
It wasn't hard to find a club with private rooms these days. She was a programmer and amateur neurologist, so the science behind why things were the way they were wasn't as much as a mystery to her as most people. Simply put, people had been holding themselves back. Even today, they were. But when you can become nearly anything with 85% life-like realness in VR, and modify your body in the real world as well, you let your wild side out.
And then your brain refuses to reign it back in.
Who cares if you're a dog? Or love being a pixie in fantasy world? Or enjoy the spark as your whole body can be safely electrocuted at rates that would kill a normal person? Everyone is doing it!
That's what the mind screams to not be put back away in the box of social norms and socially acceptable. And when everyone else really is doing it? Well, hyper-sexualization had been a long time coming since even before the internet.
From ads, to every Club and Bar seeming to double as a Love hotel, it only grew and spread. Soon, it'd probably get even better. Or worse, depending on who you talked to. Those who hadn't felt tentacles before just don't understand. Money means freedom and freedom means a whole lot more than it use to, even if it's under the boot of the rich. She expected public orgies within the decade really.
Well, more public, she thought as she passed a couple trying to prove her point in the hallway outside her room.
"So, what did you have in mind?" Darius spoke up.
