Girls Frontline: That Commander

by ApostleOfWrath

The T-Dolls at Griffon base are anxiously awaiting a new Commander so they can resume operations. Due to a catastrophic misunderstanding, some of those bored T-Dolls get to meet him a bit earlier than the others. (Contains smut)

1. Target of Opportunity (DSR-50)

Author's Notes: This 'story' is going to be a series of loosely connected chapters, mostly one-shot-like installments. It will be updated periodically, and each chapter will more or less focus on a different T-Doll.

In case you didn't catch it in the story description. Contains Smut.

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Girls Frontline Chapter One: Target of Opportunity Perspective - DSR-50

River of Gold Casino-Hotel
City of Senograd, twenty miles from Griffon base
08:32 hours

DSR-50 smiled softly to herself as she entered the casino-hotel. Her high-heeled shoes clacked delicately on the marble floor of the foyer, the crisp sound ringing through the crowd and drawing curious glances. Those glances stayed, becoming the hungry stares of sheep who thought they had stumbled upon a particularly lush clump of grass. She felt those stares, lewd gazes creeping along her bare arms, across her pale legs, diving into the considerable veiled cleavage her dress left on display. Those stares filled her with amusement, but she did not let it show on her gentle face.

[Target is in the East Wing. Proceed as planned.]

She was hunting, after all.

It started with the rumor of T-Doll traffickers moving through Senograd. With the city in striking distance of the Griffon base, a small team of like-minded T-Dolls decided it was worth investigating. They were all on standby at that base anyways; until a new Commander rotated in they were officially benched. A month of no missions left them bored out of their minds, and they eagerly jumped on the opportunity to investigate the rumor as soon as it appeared.

A week of snooping led them here, to the River of Gold Casino-Hotel. In retrospect, they could have easily put a finger on the place from the get-go, but it paid to be precise. Precision was in her name, after all. She and her fellow T-Dolls surveyed the location for four days, identifying guests and cross-referencing them with the G&K database for any hits.

They registered a few hits, though mostly familiar faces. Kalina and Helianthus were known to visit the casino on occasion, often with the former coming back to base weeping over a lost fortune and the latter grumbling about the lack of taste in modern men. Those two's antics caused some amusement among the T-Dolls, though no one was foolish enough to let their human staff know it.

After eliminating G&K employees, the pool of suspects was blessedly short. So short, in fact, because there was only one match in the database. A man on G&K's priority watch list. That in and of itself was suspicious, but after P7 reported spotting a man matching his description scoping out the base, their suspicions zeroed in with murderous certainty.

One thing led to another, and now DSR-50 was making her way through the casino floor towards the hotel elevators, consciously drawing the attention of half the casino on her way to infiltrate the man's quarters. To blend in for this mission she had chosen an appropriate dress, both scandalously revealing but also elegantly refined.

The dress itself was little more than a bikini, with supple black silk strips covering most, but not all, of her prominent chest, and cleverly placed strips of the same fabric sewn into the diaphanous gown that teasingly covered her belly and cleavage, stretching all the way to her ankles though the slit in the front revealed her perfectly smooth legs. She complimented the sexy dress with a delicate gold armband on her left arm, looping gold earrings and a black-and-gold choker. There was no mistaking her appearance for anything but what it was designed for: seduction. Had she the desire, she was certain she could bring anyone in the casino to their knees for her.

That was not her goal today. Her goal lay in room 316, the room of this mystery target.

DSR-50 snatched a glass of champagne from a passing waiter's tray. Intimately aware of the hot gazes of men and women around her, she tipped her head back and drained the whole glass in one go. The bubbly drink tickled her tastebuds, and she allowed a small sigh of pleasure to ease from her lips. Her watchers blushed at the sensual noise, some hurriedly turning away in fear of being caught.

[Stay on mission, DSR.]

The stern voice of the mission lead, stG44, chirped in her ear. She clicked her tongue in irritation at the warning; she was hardly a rookie after all, but did not reply. Instead, she pressed her lips against the glass, leaving the faint imprint of her lipstick, before handing the glass off to a still-staring young man. His cheeks darkened furiously. Before he could stammer out anything, DSR-50 brushed past him and approached the elevator.

"Which floor," the bellhop asked, a cute young woman wearing the casino-hotel's outfit.

"Third floor," she replied, shooting a subtle glance around to see if she could spot the target. According to G3, he was on the casino floor at a high-stakes poker table, and he wasn't doing half-bad. With luck that would keep him busy for a while.

No one else joined them in the elevator. The bellhop stood patiently at the control panel, sneaking glances at DSR-50 every few seconds. It was something she was quite used to, and paid the young girl no mind. When the elevator bell rang, and the doors opened, DSR-50 patted the bellhop on the cheek and stepped out. Ignoring the wistful sigh of the girl, the T-Doll checked the floor's signage and confirmed her targeted room was to the right.

This time of day there were not many out and about in the hallways. Everyone would be at work or in the casino. She was grateful for that, it reduced the risk of being exposed. She made it room 316 without spotting a single other soul.

[According to the hotel database, his room code is 6541. Try that.]

She did, tapping in the code onto the security keypad. The dull red light changed to green. A latch clicked in the door, opening the way ahead. DSR-50 smoothly pushed the door in, then stepped inside.

His room was, in a word, disappointing. The lavish amenities of the hotel room had lost their charm some time ago to her; she had been in these kinds of rooms numerous times before, especially when the old Commander would spring for upgraded suites on long-distance urban missions. A large, plush bed with thick sheets and tons of pillows. 4k ultrawide television atop a mahogany TV-stand. Wall-spanning windowed doors that led out to a personal balcony. This suite even had an attached kitchenette and a walk-in bathroom with a spacious shower stall and a two-person jacuzzi tub. It was luxurious, the kind of place all sorts of decadent things could occur in.

What drew her interest was not the furniture and amenities, but the occupant's personal belongings. He had a laptop on the work desk, and a suitcase plus travel bags laid out next to the balcony door. The T-Doll slunk across the room, mindful for traps. Something as egregious as trip wires would be unfathomable, but she could not discount the possibility of motion sensors. Thankfully, there were none.

She approached the suitcase and ran her fingers over the metal clasps. They were secured, but only by a simple latch. No sturdy lock or the like on it. Curious, she flipped the latches and opened the case, mindful of a deadman's switch.

He had a sidearm in the suitcase, though of a kind she had never seen before. Curiosity stalled her investigation for a moment. Picking up the weapon with care, she turned it over and inspected the piece. It has a solid green coat on it, dulled and chipped from clearly well-worn usage. The magazine slotted into the grip appeared too square and short, making her wonder what caliber of rounds the pistol used. Had she a camera she would have taken some pictures of it, but that would have to wait for another time.

Beneath the strange sidearm was a manilla envelope, tied with a string and sealed with wax. She could not open that one without alerting her target, so she passed it over for now. Nothing else of interest remained in the case.

[Heads up DSR, G3 lost sight of the target. He was last seen heading towards the casino floor bathroom. Hurry it up.]

DSR-50 pursed her lips in annoyance. After verifying the time she approached the laptop with something halfway between anticipation and apprehension. The laptop was locked, of course, but that meant nothing to her. She slipped a USB thumb drive out from its hidden slot in her waist-sash. This technological marvel had a load of encryption-breaking software on it, and would crack the laptop's security then download the whole hard drive in minutes.

As long as she had minutes, she would be fine.

The thumb drive clicked into place, and she pressed the button to activate it.

"Now then," she murmured, eyes drifting over to the travel bags. "What other treats do you have?"

Clothes, obviously, but sitting just on top of a pile of neatly folded pants lay a black and white folder labeled Tactical Doll - Ithaca 37. DSR-50's heart tightened in concern for her fellow T-Doll. She hurriedly opened the folder and looked inside.

The first page was Ithaca's official G&K writeup, an overview of her history and specifications. Clipped to the page was Ithaca's official portrait; showing the smiling face of the orange-eyed Shotgun as she innocently posed for the camera. DSR-50 grimaced, wondering what the Shotgun would think if she found her picture in the hands of this… this creep. Pushing past her revulsion, she flipped through the folder and the unease in her chest grew tighter. Detailed specifications, combat analysis, mission history. It was as if he had taken Ithaca's entire folder and pulled it straight off the G&K server.

Her evaluation of the target rose tremendously. He clearly had some serious pull if he could orchestrate a data breach like this. That is what he was doing, wasn't it? Pulling files of T-Dolls so he could kidnap them and sell them in the black market? The very thought of it filled her with nausea. She closed the folder and placed it back how she had found it, taking care to erase any sign of her rummaging.

[DSR, be advised we still have not reestablished contact with the target. He may- Scheiße!]

The lock chirped, signalling someone had input the key code. DSR-50 stiffened, eyes widening at the unexpected arrival. For a split second she froze, processing what to do next. Then, hastily spinning around, she closed the travel bag and moved to sit on the foot of the bed.

[He is at the door! DSR find a-]

"I will be fine," DSR-50 muttered, speaking aloud for the first time since entering the casino-hotel. "Let me handle this."

She adopted a sensual pose, hands resting on the bed behind her so that her chest was thrust out. Shifting her expression into one of boredom, she watched the doorway and braced herself for the target's arrival.

The door swung open, and he stepped inside.

The target was a handsome man, she had to give him that. Serious-faced, with a scruffy but well-maintained head of light brown hair and a neatly groomed short beard. His eyes were a startlingly bright blue, as rich as the deep ocean and harrowingly intelligent. If condensed to a single word, he was ladyboner-material. Despite her loathing of the target she felt her heart skip a beat at his rugged looks and confident posture. That confidence was no doubt backed up by his well-built frame, muscular and lean under a nice but not over-the-top suit. She could tell how fit he was by the way he walked, and she calculated her odds in a fight if it came to that. Close Quarters Combat was not her specialty. She fought best at long range. This one could prove quite troublesome.

Her target stopped just inside the doorway, his expression shifting from relaxed to dangerous in an instant. It was an effortlessly smooth transition, so smooth she hardly noticed it. DSR-50 blinked as a shiver of unease rolled over her, suppressing the reaction, and she spoke while he was still trapped in his own mental calculations of why an unannounced woman was waiting for him in his room.

She opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to it.

"So you're the T-Doll." His fierce expression slackened, and he stepped further into the room. The door clicked shut behind him, automatically locking. The target sized her up as he approached, his intelligent eyes scouring her face with the intensity of a hunting hound. "You're not the one I was expecting. Early too."

DSR-50 digested his statement while feigning a bemused smile. He must have meant Ithaca, she thought sourly. So they were going to kidnap her, then bring her to his room. For what? To assault her? Do lewd things to her?

"I am here as a replacement." She offered her most winsome smile. Rising slowly from the bed, she made a show of stretching her arms and accentuating her charms. "You know how to keep a girl waiting."

He did not respond immediately to her quip. Walking into the kitchenette, he opened the refrigerator and pulled out a pair of water bottles. She watched him curiously, amazed at how ambivalent he was to her presence. He was incredibly comfortable with an unfamiliar T-Doll in the room? Was that confidence, or stupidity? Perhaps he was so experienced with this sort of thing he thought nothing of it anymore. There were humans like that, who considered dolls like her and her comrades little more than furniture. Those humans disgusted her.

"Water?" He offered her one of the bottles.

"I am more of a wine girl," she replied.

"Don't have any on hand, sorry." He emerged from the kitchenette and set the bottles down on the nightstand. Then, stepping in close to her, he peered down into her eyes. DSR-50 was not short, at least not among T-Dolls, but he was taller enough that she could not look him square in the eye. She had to resist the urge to tilt her head back to meet his gaze, choosing instead to accept the submissive posture of gazing up at him.

He lifted a hand, letting it hover just shy of touching her cheek. "May I?"

She offered a small nod. He was expecting a pleasure doll, then. It humiliated her to stoop so low as that, but if it could protect Ithaca and any other T-Dolls, she would do it. Besides, the others would be nearby, ready to intercede if necessary.

His touch reminded her of war. His palm was firm, fingers strong. Moving his hand ever so slowly, he caressed her cheek and let his fingertips dance across her jaw and ear. The sensation was… comforting, but his eyes remained clinical. He rubbed his thumb across her cheekbone, brushed against her nose, then descended to her lips.

At the softest nudge, her lips parted for his invading digit. His nail scraped against her teeth for a moment, thumb tracing the line between her upper and lower jaws. He was, amazingly enough, appearing utterly disinterested in her from a sensual perspective. She sensed none of the telltale signs of a human's arousal.

"Fascinating," he muttered, brows twitching faintly in concentration.

Genuine awe filled his voice. DSR-50 took that as a sign of him recognizing her superior quality. For that, at least, he deserved a small reward. Closing her lips around his thumb, she bit down just hard enough to hold him in place. Her tongue licked against his fingertip, sliding up and down each side. He tasted like… cream cheese? Must have been snacking on appetizers down at the poker table. She allowed a flirtatious grin onto her face as she sucked on his thumb, cleaning the lingering flavor from his skin and playing her tongue against his trapped digit.

He studied her for a moment, showing nearly no reaction to the teasing. After a moment of hesitation he moved his thumb, playfully jousting as he tried to pin her slick tongue to the bottom of her mouth. It was a good reaction; that meant he was vulnerable to further charm, and she could quite possibly walk out of this room with him being none the wiser.

"I really wasn't expecting this sort of thing," he muttered. "Guess this is the welcome package she was talking about."

[Welcome package? She? DSR, see if you can get him to talk.]

The T-Dolls knew there were multiple people involved in this smuggling ring. She must be his higher-up. If he could lead them to her, then they would be able to snag a much bigger fish. The thought excited her, and she wondered if she could convince him to spill the beans. All it would take was a little more stimulation.

Her head tipped back slightly, and his thumb slipped free with a quiet pop. Taking that hand by the wrist, she clutched it to her well-endowed chest and offered the man a heated smile.

"Ahhh~ the best things in life come as a surprise, don't they?"

There was no hiding the change in his mood. Her eyes glanced down for a microsecond, checking out the shifting bulge in his trousers, and she let out a cooing giggle.

"Fu fu, how about you and I relax a little this afternoon? I am sure you must be quite stressed."

She shifted, sliding around to his other side, putting his back to the bed. Her hands pressed against his chest, aiming to push him down, but he caught her wrists and held her steady. DSR-50 pushed against him, trying to make it look gentle and teasing, but she was shocked that her augmented doll-strength made no impact against him. His grip was like iron, and strong as steel.

"If you're suggesting what I think you are suggesting," he told her, expression still serious despite his noticeable arousal, "Then I want to clarify something first."

"You may ask me anything," she lied.

"Are you here on your own accord?"

His question seemed genuine enough. It confused her for a moment. Why would a doll smuggler care about her consent? Maybe he was one of those sleazeballs who convinced himself that what he was doing was fine as long as the doll eventually said it was okay. That was how they all became, according to the reports. A mix of drugs and trauma would render them incapable of resisting, and sometimes make them dependent on the abuse and humiliation as a reason to live.

"I am," she confirmed.

[DSR, I am getting some weird vibes off of this guy. I'm not really sure if h-]

DSR-50 muted the incoming channel, rendering stG44 silent. Again, she was not some rookie who lost her head in these situations. She was more than capable of taking care of this dirtbag.

"Okay, then." He eased his grip on her wrists, but he did not release her. Sliding one hand along her arm, he grasped her by the shoulder and guided her to the edge of the bed. She obediently sat down, hiding her dissatisfaction at how he so easily shifted the momentum into his favor. She would have to take it back over, dictate the flow of events. A simple handjob would leave him helpless before her.

Settling onto the edge of the bed, she patted the spot beside her and gazed up at him expectantly. He ignored her gesture, choosing instead to drop to one knee. His strong hands caught her knees, and she nearly blushed as his eye took on a hungry, predatory gleam.

"You should take this off," he warned her. "I'd hate to damage it."

"Aren't you sure of yourself," she cooed. Good. She would enjoy taking him down a peg.

"Suit yourself."

Without offering a hint of warning, the man lifted her knees so quickly she toppled over onto her back. DSR-50 could not silence her yip of surprise at the sudden move, and she hastily covered her mouth to hide her embarrassment. She tried to glare down at him, but any thought of irritation abandoned her when she realized what he was doing.

His hands eased both knees apart, giving the man an unrestricted view of her white panties. Legs caught in the air, she could only watch in abject humiliation as he leaned in towards her, head slipping past her raised knees and homing in on her most sacred place.

"It's been a long time since I've seen skin so smooth," he muttered, diverting his attention to her fleshy thigh. His face pressed suddenly against her thigh, rubbing against her even as he sniffed her scent. A few teasing nips from his teeth marked her succulent flesh, causing her to clench her teeth.

This… this bastard! Who did he think he was, marking her like that?

But she could not suppress a shudder of pleasure at his attention. Her belly tightened, growing tense as his lips traveled along her exposed thigh, kissing and nibbling her tender skin with growing passion. His hands crawled along her hips, pinning her legs into the air and preventing her from struggling. Her leg twitched with each kiss, sending little jolts of pleasure shooting through her body with each soft love bite. Gradually, his kisses roamed up her thig-

"Mn!"

Right there. Oh goodness, right there. Her eyelids fluttered, chest rising in a sharp breath when his teeth grazed against that spot. She hadn't even known she had a spot right there on her inner thigh. But holy… Shit! Can't let him see it. He can't know tha- a- aaaaaa...

"Mmmaaahh," Her moan slipped out from her mouth, seeping past her fingers. She could not help it. He had noticed her initial reaction to that spot, and began attacking it mercilessly. His tongue pressed against her skin, drawing thick circles around her sensitive point, retreating only for a teasting bite from his teeth to shock her with the intensity of her reaction.

Not good. Oh no, not good.

"Is- ahhh- is that all you've got," she sputtered, trying in vain to draw his attention away. Her breath quickened when he glanced up at her, a smug shine in his eyes as he calmly, intentionally bit down just hard enough that it hurt.

"I apologize," he murmured, placing a long, wet kiss on the bruised skin. "You're quite eager, aren't you?"

I am not, she wanted to say, but her words failed her. That was partially because she found herself transfixed by his gaze, spellbound by the smoldering fire that filled her vision. It was also partially because he let go of her hip with one hand and snaked his arm between her legs, bringing a single finger up to press against her clothed slit.

"Uhhh…"

"Would you prefer I apply my tongue here?"

"G-g-g-o to… hell," she murmured. A furious heat filled her cheeks, and she had to tear her gaze away. Choosing instead to focus on the ceiling of the room, she took a calming breath and frantically tried to still her wildly beating heart.

What was happening to her? Was she really this wound up, that a simple touch like that would get her so worked up? Certainly it had been… practically forever since she had last masturbated. But she did not think she was this starved for attention.

Her self-introspection cut short when that pressing finger started to move, rubbing up and down her panties. DSR-50 bit her lip to try and stem another moan. The silk of her panties was thick enough to offer comfort, but not so thick as to prevent her from feeling the pressure of his finger sliding up and down her tightly closed slit. He found it without an ounce of searching, as if guided by an unseen force right to her warm and… wet… pussy.

"Let's not ruin these," he told her. His fingers curled around the strings of her panties and pulled. Her hips lifted, obliging his desire, and he lifted them up to her knees, but no further. The position left her legs closely pressed together, so close that her thighs rubbed against his cheeks as he spent a moment relishing her naked pussy.

Her chest tightened in anticipation, betraying her desire for calm. The man remained between her legs, idly massaging her bare hips, staring down at her exposed slit with that familiar clinical scrutiny. To her shame, she was dripping with arousal. She could feel the beads of honey trickling down her buttocks, presenting an unbelievably lewd sight to the man. Then, offering no warning whatsoever, he leaned his head down and speared his tongue into her slit.

"Nng," DSR-50 groaned, hips bucking once at the unexpected and violent assault. His tongue was not that long, but it was thick and broad. He pressed his whole mouth over her slit, kissing her pussy. His tongue slipped in and out, alternating between wriggling snake-like inside her and taking long, wandering licks along her folds. She moaned deeply, hips twitching under his ministrations. He was good. He was damn good.

Unsatisfied with the wetness of her lips, he gathered up saliva in his mouth and spat it into her exposed slit. She was certain her pink folds were glistening, and she could not help but accept the lovely sensations that followed each stroke of his tongue and kiss from his lips. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hips, gently pinning her in place so she could not squirm.

She grabbed fitfully at the sheets, twisting her fingers around clumps of fabric to ground herself in the face of his practiced assault. There was no way he was new to this, she thought belatedly. His pattern, for there was a pattern to this, was ruthless and effective. Tonguing her slit to fire up her nerves, then burying his tongue inside her to loosen up her vaginal flesh. And he didn't stop. His tongue was like a damn wild animal, furiously having his way with her. Within minutes of his assault she was panting for breath, wantonly moaning as his tongue wrought havoc on her lower lips.

At least he hadn't thought to go after her cli-

"KYYAAAAA!"

As if reading her thoughts, the man pulled back every so slightly, dragging his tongue up along the roof of her slit and scooping out her hiding clit. The soft, slimy touch of his tongue sent a lightning bolt of pleasure stabbing through her mind, and DSR-50 shrieked in ecstasy. Her mind went numb for a long moment, overwhelmed by the new and vicious sensation juddering through her body. Clenching her thighs tightly against his face, she desperately tried to pull her hips back, but by trapping his head between her thighs she locked him at exactly the perfect place.

Taking advantage of her confusion-addled mind, her target renewed his attack with vigor. She was only vaguely aware of his mouth curling in a smirk against her hyper-sensitive flesh, but her rational thoughts were swept away in an instant when he pursed his lips over her clit and began to suck.

"Ahhn… ahhh… shiii… ahhh..."

Holy shit. Holy shit. Holyshitholyshitholyshit!

She cried out in pure bliss, helpless against the combined assault of his tongue and lips on her precious pearl. There were thousands of nerve endings in that tiny bead, and he was stimulating every single one of them at once.

Viciously adding her clit to his list of targets, he ate her out with a manic fervor that left her breathless. Her thighs clenched tighter and tighter, locking him in an inescapable embrace even as she frantically tried to crawl away from him. Her hands clutched fruitlessly at the sheets, dragging her body backwards only for him to give her a sharp tug that sent her lurching back into his arms.

"Haaaaa… tooonngg…. Ccuuuuu… cummm… I"m cumming! I'm cumming! I'M CUMMING!"

Her vision went white, and it was all she could do to grasp fistfuls of a pillow and throw it over her head to suppress her scream. Her hips bucked wildly, attempting to shake him off, but between his iron grip on her hips and her knees locked on either side of his head he did not cease his tonguing attack. That awful tongue redoubled its efforts, stabbing inside her in a furious pumping motion that clashed directly against her convulsing inner muscles, breaking the tide of fluids that gushed out of her slit and splattered against his face in a torrent of sticky ecstasy.

Her orgasm lasted for more than ten seconds, and it was ten of the worst seconds of her life. She could not breathe, she could not move. The only thing she registered was this painfully awesome pleasure, a horrifyingly overpowering bliss that stretched from her curled toes to her fluttering eyelids. All she could feel was that damned tongue going in and out, in and out, in and out, in and-

The man's assault did not relent even in the throes of her orgasm. If anything, his pace increased again, tongue firing nearly machine gun-like into her gushing pussy. The continued stimulation crept up in the midst of her passionate wriggling, quickly reaching the point that it triggered a second, no less powerful orgasm. She screamed again as her body convulsed wildly, legs trembling so badly that her panties snapped on one side and her legs flopped down over his shoulders. She hardly felt the sting of the breaking elastic, only dimly aware of any sensation that was not his tongue.

More than a minute passed, and she spent every single second cumming furiously on his tongue. She orgasmed over half a dozen times, each one stringing along into the next, not giving her a moment to catch her breath or collect herself. By the end of it she was splayed lifelessly on the bed, her chest heaving as she greedily gulped down air, legs draped over his shoulders and twitching with the after-effect discharges of her nerves. She could hardly hold her breath, and gasped with each exhale as her hammering heart tried to punch its way out of her chest.

That cheeky man rose to his feet, a smirk etched on his drenched chin. His shirt was soaked all the way to his pants, looking like someone had sprayed him with a hose rather than having just eaten a woman into multiple back-to-back orgasms. DSR-50 glared up at him through lidded eyes, too exhausted to form words to express her extreme displeasure at how he had so easily manhandled her.

Her only victory, however slight it was, came when the man massaged his jaw and spat a wad of her personal juice onto the bed.

"Tha' should'a loosen'd ya up," he muttered, his words somewhat slurred as his tongue rested on the bottom of his mouth. He had beaten his tongue into submission to pleasure her like that, and likely would be hurting for some time.

Her victory was short-lived. Before she could properly compose herself, the man reached down and grabbed her by the waist. Slipping one arm further up and behind her back, he pulled her to her feet and held her in a lover's embrace. Her eyes watered as she leaned into him, unable to stand by herself on trembling legs. She was certain that if he let her go, she would collapse.

"Haa…. you've got… some tongue," she stammered, shyly turning her head to the side.

It was no secret that DSR-50 considered herself to be a champion seductress. In various jobs she had wrapped men and women alike around her finger, and always managed to keep control of the situation and prevent things from going too far. This man made her skills seem like a joke. Even the way he held her just now, a sturdy hand on her hip and a comforting arm under her shoulder blades, radiated such a dominating strength that she found herself unconsciously sinking into his arms. Her head rested against his shoulder, shyly turning away so he could not see her vulnerable face.

"You really aren't that different, are you," he muttered, his words rustling against her hair. She stiffened as he took a deep sniff of her hair. She had perfumed it for today, applying an elegant hint of lilac to her hair that was just strong enough to linger in the corner of her target's mind. "Turn around."

Slowly, gingerly shuffling around, she placed her back to him and allowed herself to enjoy his warm embrace. The new position left his arm that had been around her back cupped under her breasts, and her shapely buttocks pressed against an unmistakable clothed bulge. His free hand gathered up the skirt of her dress and pushed it to the side, allowing her bare skin to rub against his trousers. His belt buckle was cold; she hissed in surprise at its ungentle touch.

"You are beautiful," he whispered to her, leaning in until his lips tickled her ear. She bit her tongue to suppress the shiver that crept along her spine. "What's your name?"

"Dee.." she began, but clenched her jaw shut when his free hand reappeared against her aching slit. Four powerful fingers cupped her pussy, rubbing both inside and outside her folds at the same time. The tingling sensation of her already used slit being handled so quickly again left her shivering. "Ess- aaahh- Arr. Mmmm..."

"Dee-Ess-Arr?" He repeated, correctly guessing the letters. "That's an odd name."

"I'm- haa- quite attached to it."

Teeth nibbled against her ear, eliciting a strained gasp from the Rifle. She pulled her head to the side, freeing herself from his teeth, and blushed when the move earned her a satisfied chuckle.

"Well then, DSR, I've only got a little while, so I'll make sure you enjoy this to the fullest."

A little while? What does that mean? Is he moving on? Are they leaving the city? I need ans-wwaaaaaaaahhh

Two fingers slid into her slick entrance. DSR-50 gasped, knees buckling under the surprise assault. She leaned backwards, pulling away from his fingers only to grind against his crotch. That only allowed her a moment's respite, and his fingers chased her slit and dove right back inside.

Her face flushed with shame when she mewled out a breathy gasp. The intruding fingers curled and coiled about experimentally, exploring her tight canal and rubbing against her insides without a hint of mercy or hesitation. At the same time, his other fingers massaged the outside of her pussy. Her gasping breaths turned into a muted shriek when his finger and thumb came together to catch her throbbing, abused clit between them and played with it like a child playing with peas.

"M… mmm… don't…. Ahhhh…"

What little strength she had felt creeping back vanished in an instant, melting from her limbs. DSR-50 lifted her hips, fruitlessly trying to escape, lifting herself up onto the tips of her heeled slippers, grinding her shapely butt into his hips. To her shame, her arms wrapped around his, one clutching his arm possessively while the other grasped his offending hand and shoved it deeper into her pussy.

"It's hard to believe you aren't built for this sort of thing," he rasped, voice tinged with a shrill edge. She could feel the burning heat of his hardon through his trousers. It felt as solid as a club, and she could only imagine what would happen to her if that came out of his pants. A tiny, near-silent voice in the back of her mind screamed at her to try and wrest control back. She needed to be in charge. She needed to make him tell her what she wanted.

What did I want, she asked herself.

His resting hand, the one cupped under her breasts, began to stir. Gently first, his upward-facing palm began to press into her breath in circular motions. Fingers tapped lightly across her chest, sometimes dragging against her clothed breast, other times deftly tapping away like a Morse code operator at his keyboard. With each rotation, he speed began to increase, growing more sure and aggressive, and his fingers pressed harder into her flesh. She moaned when his thumb flicked across her nipple; she had not realized that her nipples had grown hard under her dress. Covered as they were by the silk fabric, they still stabbed outwards like little beacons for his attentive fingers.

Attentive fingers that quickly caught her engorged nipple and pinched cruelly, sparking a yelp of pain mingling with the rising pleasure coming from between her legs. The sloppy wet sounds emerging from her pussy, an ignoble shlick shlick shlcik of his drenched fingers smacking into her folds filled the room with lewd sounds that furthered DSR-50's embarrassment.

"Not… not my nipples…" she begged, groaning under the sharp, sensual pain.

His fingers vanished from her pussy, and his arm withdrew from her chest. DSR-50 sagged forwards, almost stumbling onto the bed without his support. Grateful for the relief, she caught herself on her hands and steadied herself on shaking limbs.

"Wha.. this… stopping?"

"Not even close," he told her. She could hear the confidence in his voice.

His hands reappeared, catching her hips and stilling her trembling body. For a calming moment they stayed there, fingers massaging the naked skin of her hips in restless patterns. Then they began to creep up her sides, thumbs dragging against the bare skin of her exposed back. She shivered, unable to suppress the queasiness in her guy as first one finger, then the next, slipped under her dress. His fingers were wet and sticky on one side, dry and warm on the other. The combined stimulus made her moan, and to her horror her thighs began to ache. She quietly pressed them together, hoping to stifle the feeling, but that only tightened her cheeks, and he rolled his hips into her shapely behind, adding another tortuous theater to his campaign to dominate her body.

"You… you are a filthy man," she groaned.

"The worst," he agreed.

His tongue slid along her ear, making her flinch and pull away. In her shock she lost track of his hands. He quickly reminded her of their presence; his fingers slid up the underside of her bountiful chest, gliding against her soft flesh and grabbed lecherous fistfuls, forcing a startled gasp from her lungs. He went to work right away, groping shamelessly, mauling her plump chest without a hint of remorse.

"Ah! Oww… be gentle!"

Her complaints went unheeded. The man had her in a precarious position and he knew it. Her legs were still weak and she was practically slumping into his hands to support herself. The cruel, aggressive handling of her body was a sign of dominance, of him marking her as his own. It was awful, it was painful…

And yet she felt her belly grow hotter with each whimper of pain, and the slick sounds that her thighs made when they rubbed against each other told them both that she was growing wet again. Or, she hadn't stopped being wet.

Gradually, her complaints grew quieter, and her moans grew louder. His fingers roamed freely underneath her silk dress, not sparing her in the slightest. They sank viciously into her yielding skin, they pinched and twisted her tender nipples. Each jolt of pain brought a panting breath to her lips. She squirmed weakly in his arms, grinding her body against his. She wasn't sure if she was trying to escape his hands or press closer against his clothed cock.

She wasn't really sure of anything anymore.

She only knew that she wanted him to make her cum again. That the fire boiling in her belly was rapidly consuming her rational thoughts and drowning her in pleasure.

His lips kissed her feverishly hot neck, and she let out a throaty moan. With a satisfied smack, he pulled back, then his lips came down just beside the first spot. Methodically, one kiss at a time, he started just under her jaw and made his way lower. Down the nape of her neck, across her throat, over her choker, along her collarbone. Each kiss infused her with a tingling warmth that bled through the burning heat of her arousal. She moaned with each kiss, her face growing slack with unbridled lust.

"That's a good girl," he murmured, his voice dark and enticing.

"Ahh'm, sooo… so hot." Her tongue lolled in her mouth, drool trickling from her lips.

"Let's speed this up and get you out of this dress then."

His sticky hand slid back around her side, drawing out a disappointed pout from the Rifle. Her complaint changed into a squeak when it reappeared between her legs. The same two fingers thrust carelessly inside her and began to hammer into her pussy. He did not attack her with the same forceful technique as before, but rather pistoned into her without a shred of mercy. Her startled cry melted into a shriek as the furious assault overwrote her consciousness.

Hips thrusting shamelessly against his hands, DSR-50 rocked her hips as hard as she could. Those damned fingers were magical. Curling up at just the right point to scrape that spot that generated the loudest reaction. Fluttering like an insect's wings to tease her inner walls and light up so many nerves. She bucked violently when the combined pressure on her nipples, pussy and neck all combined into a single surge of ecstasy that spread into every part of her body.

"Don't- don't stopppp! Cummiiiiiiing!"

Her legs gave out entirely, sagging into his hand that cupped her bottom, and she squirted out another mind-numbing orgasm. Somewhere in the midst of it she felt a sharp pain on her neck, but her pleasure-addled mind only registered it as more pleasure, and her shrill voice rose another octave to celebrate that new source of happiness.

When she regained her awareness she was lying on her back, legs lifted and feet set so her lower half was shaped like a fleshy-M. Her dress had been removed- there, folded neatly on the desk alongside her choker and sash. He had left her armband and heels on, it seemed. How long had she been out?

Long enough for him to strip too, apparently.

Her eyes widened at the sight of her target standing at the foot of the bed, his body naked and glistening with the honey from her secretions. As she had suspected, he was impressively fit, with smoothly defined musculature and manly scars scattered across his body. His size was intimidating, she could not help but rationalize the comparison in their naked bodies, but what truly frightened her was his size.

"W- what is that," she squeaked, cheeks heating up as she stared at the proudly standing rod of meat between his hips. It was… huge. Ridiculously big. As big as her forearm, big. The throbbing red-tipped cock swayed gently in the air, hypnotic in its outrageous size.

The man did not answer her question. He leaned down over her, climbing onto the bed, and put his hands on either side of her shoulders. The meaty, boiling heat of his dick pressed against her stomach, sliding against her smooth belly with sickening ease. One hand groped her chest, roughly stimulating her bruised skin, returning to her abused nipples with no sign of remorse to her pained moans.

DSR-50 gasped when he darted down to place a hungry kiss on her throat. Squirming weakly underneath him, she reached up and put her exhausted hands against his chest, trying in vain to push him off of her. His kisses grew fiercer, sucking on the underside of her jaw and covering her velvety flesh in affection. Her heart pounded in her chest, as if rising to greet his lips on its own accord, filling her head with a buzzing clamor that drowned out her desire to escape from under him.

Slowly at first, but with quickening speed, the man rocked his hips against her. With each thrust his cock slid across her stomach, tickling her with its weight, and the pleasure she felt seeped into her skin and made its way down to her exhausted hips. Her thighs grew wet yet again, pussy growing hungry for his massive rod to penetrate it. The thought terrified her as much as it excited her crumbling brain.

For all intents and purposes, DSR-50 was still a virgin. T-Dolls were built to mimic humans to a large degree, but some things were just different. She really did not understand why they had been built with a functional pussy and asshole and erogenous zones to begin with, but she could not deny the satisfaction they could reach from behaving like the humans with those parts of their bodies. One thing they did not have, though, was a hymen. For whatever reason, the T-Dolls were not made with that.

That meant her first penetration would not be as painful as a human's, but he was still really big.

"I think you are prepared now," he muttered, his mouth spreading hot air over her cheek. She shivered at his announcement and redoubled her pathetic attempts to push him away.

"N- no, please. I don't thi- it won't fit! That thing is way too big!"

He ignored her panicked excuses. Pulling back from her neck, he positioned himself at her entrance and pressed the tip of his cock against her folds. An electric shock jolted her body, stunning her for a moment as the impending penetration sank into her brain. That massive tool was going into a hole that was not remotely the right size for it. It was going to hurt. A lot. That panic fueled her sapped strength, and she anxiously tried to pull her hips away from him.

A firm hand grabbed her hip, pinning her in place. His other hand gripped his cock and guided it carefully, sliding half his length across her gaping slit. With each pass her lips twitched and spasmed, so horribly overstimulated that even this was enough to make her pant. The muscles in her vagina contracted, tightening as if to prepare defenses against the invader.

Just before she thought he would do it, he stopped humping her slit and looked her in the eyes. DSR-50 gazed up at him with pleading eyes, unsure if she was begging him to stop, or pleading with him to continue. She had never felt like this before; he had turned her into a ragged mess. Her pride lay in pieces, scattered about her sweat-drenched body.

He leaned back into her, lips parting for a kiss. The Rifle closed her eyes, terrified that he would snatch her lips away and drown her in some new terrible pleasure, but instead she felt his lips descend on her throat again, making wet sounds as his kisses covered her neck in saliva.

She whimpered, covering her hand with her mouth, determined to not give him the victory of hearing her cry out. This was too much. What the hell had even happened to her since he came into the room? It was like she had completely lost her will to fii-iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!

Stars exploded in her mind. She might have screamed; she either screamed or she dry-heaved as the man impaled her in one thrust. His cock plunged into her slit, whose folds opened treacherously for him without a hint of resistance. An uncomfortably large thing filled her, grinding against her tight canal, punching past her defenses without slowing in the slightest. The impact hit her like a punch in the gut. Breathless, stunned, she could only writhe in ecstatic agony as a thousand fires lit up inside her belly.

Bigbigbigbigbigbigbigbigbigbig

After remaining in her for a horrendously long period of time, the man made a grunt that sounded like approval, and gradually began to draw himself out of her. DSR-50 gasped for air, her chest rising and falling unevenly with each panting breath. Tears blurred her vision. Her pussy was sending sparks of a hundred different sensations leaping through her body like a pile of firecrackers popping off all at once.

His cock was crushing against her pussy, stretching her canal beyond its limits, filling her with a bone-rattling pain.

Her pussy was twitching rapidly, signaling a womanly joy that she had never felt before that swelled her chest with awe.

Arching her back with a hiss, DSR-50 tried to help him ease himself out of her. She tasted copper in her mouth; she had bit her tongue in blind panic with the overpowering tide of sensation. Uncaring of her distress, her target gripped her by the hips and withdrew until just his tip remained inside her. She braved her fear and glanced down, hoping to see him pull out entirely.

The sight of his broad cock lined up against her narrow pussy might have been comical if she hadn't been on the receiving end. It was like watching someone try to cram a hotdog into a straw.

"W- ahhh- give me a- ooooh wow, give me a minute," she pleaded, placing a hand on his shoulder. As if that would hold him back. Her arm was shivering from the effort of remaining upright. Her frantic plea caught his attention though, and he paused to give her a chance to recover.

"Thank you," she murmured, collapsing back on the bed. "You are way too big. You've got to be more gent-iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!"

His second thrust caught her by surprise, blasting the word from her lungs in a scream. His cock battered its way inside her, sliding along her slick passage with too much force for her to handle. Her legs spasmed from the shock, kicking wildly, and her back lifted entirely off the bed until only her shoulders remained on the sheets.

It hurt slightly less this time, though that could have been shock overwriting her pain receptors. Certainly his whole cock was slick now, having wet itself in her the first time. Maybe it wouldn't be quite so-

"Aaahh!"

He pulled back and hammered into her again, completing the smooth cycle with a single roll of his hips. DSR-50 cried out, fingers tearing into the sheets and head whipping wildly this way and that. Fuck, too big! Too goddamn big!

Another thrust, and another cry. He rutted into her furiously, making up for the time spent pleasuring her in record time. Each powerful thrust of his hips knocked the wind from her lungs, leaving her breathless and squealing in his arms.

Thrust

"Gaaaa-"

Thrust

"-aaa!"

Thrust

"Staaa-"

Thrust

"-aap!"

Thrust

"T-Tooooooo…"

Thrust

"M-much!"

The scalding heat of his cock merged with the boiling fire in her belly. Her awareness bled away, consumed by the passionate heat spreading through her body. The friction of his cock rubbing against her pussy was unlike anything she had ever experienced. It hurt so much, but it was a hurt that she craved. She needed it! She adored it! She squealed with unabashed joy as her insides were pummeled over and over.

He was using her as a piece of meat. His fingers dug into the tender meat of her hips, his cock pounded into her defenseless pussy so hard their bodies slapped together. Over and over and over and over- she didn't even know what was happening anymore. She only knew the incredible mind-bending joy of his cock brutalizing her pussy. He kept going without stop, not pausing in the slightest for what felt like an eternity. She forgot about begging, she forgot about crying out or trying to breathe. There was just the powerful rocking motion of his hips slamming into her again and again.

His expression tightened, and his cock began to pulse inside her. Instinctively knowing what that meant, DSR-50 felt her body respond in kind. Her vaginal muscles tightened around his cock, trapping him in a constricting pressure that sent her stomach leaping into her throat to join her pounding heart. A nausea-inducing queasiness rushed through her, and she moaned loudly when his powerful hips suddenly spasmed. Rising up high on his knees, he jammed her body forcefully on his cock with such violence she screamed, and her world turned white.

Something hot and wet flooded her insides. She felt the surge shoot up his cock and spray deep inside her, painting her inner walls white. She felt his hips slam rapid-fire into her, bucking uncontrollably into her as the man's orgasm drove him into a mad frenzy. Her own body responded in kind, clamping down on his cock to hold him in place, squeezing his meatstick for all it was worth. The combined pleasure sparked another orgasm inside her. Throwing her head back, she howled in ecstasy and lost herself in the insane pleasure.

Then, mercifully, they were done.

Her body lay limp, quivering underneath him, limbs spasming with the aftershock of so many orgasms in such a short time frame. His cock withdrew from her body, leaving a dull sensation of emptiness as her stretched muscles tried to recover. Her whole body sagged, sinking into the sheets, her eyes staring vacantly at the ceiling.

With a satisfied grunt, the man rolled off of her and sat down on the edge of the bed. He uncapped one of the water bottles and took a long swig, content to let her lie there and try to consolidate her thoughts.

"Ha~ aahhh…" She summoned up what little strength she had and shifted her head to watch him. Perhaps because of the frenetic sex, her gaze travelled across his muscular back and inspected the scars that marked where he had been cut, shot, burned… There was something strangely arousing about those signs of damage. T-Dolls generally did not stay scarred like that. It was simple enough to replace real damage, if their incredible regenerative properties did not take care of the wounds in the first place.

The scars made him appear human. Humans were supposed to be fragile, weak, in need of protection. That was why T-Dolls existed, after all. To protect humanity.

She doubted a man like him needed any protection.

"Water?"

His calm question rattled around in her brain for a few seconds before she processed it. Still struggling to steady her breathing, she merely nodded and made a small sound of agreement. That was enough, and he leaned back over towards her with the bottle in his hand.

Rather than offering the bottle, however, he took a long drink then kissed her with his cheeks still full. The instant his rough lips pressed against hers, the Rifle felt her heart stutter like a backfiring car engine. His kiss was aggressive, crushing their lips together, forcing her mouth open with his thick tongue.

Water trickled into her mouth, spilling from his lips, mixed with his saliva and mingling with her own. She moaned, the sound muffled, and greedily swallowed the delicious drink as quickly as it filled her mouth. Hungrily sucking on his lips, she caught his bottom lip and bit down, drawing a soft growl from the man even as he grinned.

After sucking the last of the water down, DSR-50 pulled back and heaved a deep sigh. Her head was nestled comfortably at the base of a fluffy pillow. Had she the strength to do so she might have pulled herself up and let herself rest. He had other thoughts though, and filled his mouth with another load of water before capturing her lips in a second, no less passionate kiss. At the same time, his left arm snaked along her body, cupping her breast in his hand and giving it a loving squeeze. He played with her body without any sign of the roughness from before. His touch now was gentle, comforting. Overwriting the pain he had caused her with a soothing kindness that tickled her senses.

Her body melted in his arms, mind going numb with pleasure as his tongue explored freely inside her mouth, running along her teeth and battling inside her own mouth for dominance. She resisted… weakly… some small part of her enjoying how he so easily had his way with her. It wasn't fair! She was supposed to be stronger than him. She was supposed to be leading him by the nose, not the other way around.

To hell with it, she thought exhaustedly. For now, she would let him pamper her. Mouthful by mouthful, he shared the water bottle until it was empty. His free hand roamed across her naked body, teasing her with soft caresses in her most intimate places, drawing excited moans from her lungs when he touched this place or that. His fingers were eminently skillful, always knowing the best place to touch, and how to do it too. His touch filled her with little slivers of pleasure, teasing a new wave of arousal, but they were clearly a more casual touching than before. He was not seeking to drive her into another lusty frenzy, but simply to appreciate her body.

Well, she could suffer some appreciation for a little while.

Their lips separated with a wet pop, and DSR-50 smiled tiredly. She glanced over at the clock, idly wondering what time it was. 09:49. It had been almost an hour since he entered the room. A whole hour of bliss. Scumbag or not, at least he knew how to please a lady. Her nethers would be sore for a while, but all in all she could consider this a mission success.

Now she just had to get the thumb drive and escape without him noticing.

The opportunity came when he stood up from the bed and padded over to the kitchenette counter and picked up his phone. The Rifle watched him, allowing a moment to admire his taut butt and powerful legs, before easing herself to a sitting position and crawling to the edge of the bed. Under the presence of collecting her dress, she pulled herself onto her feet and limped towards the desk. She stumbled immediately, her legs nearly giving out on her as they made their complaints known. Cursing under her breath, DSR-50 took several shallow breaths and mustered up her strength to stagger the last few steps to the desk.

His arms snatched her up before she could. She made a small noise of surprise when two strong hands slipped around her waist and gingerly but forcefully dragged her to the ground. She sank to her knees without an ounce of resistance, her body singing in gratitude for the unexpected break. Thankfully, the carpet in the room was thick and soft, honestly almost as soft as the bed sheets.

"Wha-"

"Meeting got pushed back," he told her, murmuring the words into her neck as he kissed her nape. One of his hands released her waist and began playing with her knee-length hair, wrapping his fingers around her brunette locks and giving a playful tug. She allowed him to pull her back, exposing her throat to his hungry tongue. "We've got some more time."

A familiar hardness pressed against her buttocks, sliding between them as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Her whole body tensed, stiffening at the horrifying realization that his monster cock had become hard again. That meant he was going to put it in her again.

"Head down," he ordered, using his fistful of her hair to press her face to the floor. She obeyed meekly, powerless to resist. His next order caused her to blush furiously. "Ass up."

Shamelessly, she rose up on her knees and stuck her butt out for his enjoyment. Her ass was not the largest, but it was shapely and she had considerable pride in it. She had pride in all of her appearance, actually. That pride only made her embarrassment more powerful, and she felt abject humiliation as his hands repositioned themselves on her tender cheeks. As one, his fingers squeezed, eliciting a soft groan from the Rifle. Encouraged by her reaction, he grabbed her harder, digging his fingers into her soft flesh, helping himself to her ass as if it belonged to him.

"Nehh.. ahh… ge- gently… please."

His quiet chuckle twisted in her belly like a knife.

"I don't know, you seem to enjoy it when there's a little pain."

"Nnnuu- n-noooo…"

One of his hands slipped down between her cheeks, running a finger over her puckered asshole. She let out a little mewl of fear, tightening up her cheeks as if to close them and hide her shame from view. He only chuckled louder, and used his thumbs and palms to pry her ass cheeks apart.

"That is damned gorgeous," he told her.

For a moment he did not seem to move. Then his mouth descended on her buttocks, startling her with a wet smooch across her soft behind. She yipped in surprise, whole body shivering from the sensual pleasure of the surprise action. Taking that as permission to do it again, he kissed her over and over. Alternating between loud, messy kisses and dragging his tongue along her ass cheeks, he made love to her buttocks with such passion that she felt her stomach churn in that familiar queasiness. Her eyelids fluttered wildly when his tongue wandered between her cheeks, dancing dangerously close to her asshole.

"N-No! Not my- not my asshole," she begged.

She was not sure her pride would survive if he did anything to her there. Sodomy was the epitome of depravity, or so she had been told. If he did weird things to her butt, she would become a complete mess.

Thankfully, he held back. His tongue circled around her asshole once, causing her to shudder in trepidation, but continued on to her other cheek where he resumed his affectionate kissing. Here and there he nipped at her flesh, teeth grazing where he thought she was the most sensitive. Little by little, the noises leaking from her mouth resembled aroused sounds and not fear.

She was just starting to think that this was kind of nice, enjoyable even, when two fingers slid between her thighs and began to stroke her pussy.

DSR-50 coughed out a groan, her hips pulling back and away from his fingers, unintentionally driving her ass into his face. She felt his mouth curl up in a grin against her skin, and he resolutely caught up to her pussy and began a slow, tortuous rhythm of strokes.

"Mmph…" She ground her teeth together with frustration as sexy noises continued to drip from her lips. Pressing her forehead to the carpet, she wriggled her head this way and that, as if the friction of the carpet would burn the pleasure from her mind.

"Are all T-Dolls this horny," he asked her?

She hardly registered his words, groaning out a sound that might have been an answer. Each stroke of his fingers sent bolts of pleasure coursing through her body. Her hips ground into his fingers, rocking back and forth in increasingly frantic motions as her body descended into the helplessness of a lewd piece of meat.

"Mmmm… rrrr."

His fingers stopped. DSR-50 moaned in disappointment, wantonly humping her hips into those motionless fingers to spur him on.

"What's that?" His voice had a teasing, mocking quality to it.

Cheeks burning with shame, DSR-50 wiggled her butt and eased her head off the carpet. She was sure she looked a mess. Cheeks blushing furiously, eyes wild and dilated, mouth hanging half open and drooling with need. Her dignity was in tatters now.

"M- more. I… I want more."

His eyes twinkled in amusement, and he obliged her by giving her one last kiss on her ample behind.

"I may just have to keep you," he promised her.

She wanted that. On some deep, instinctive level, she wanted that. She wanted him to dominate her, to take her to that bed and fuck her until she couldn't breathe anymore, until she was about to die from sheer pleasure. The nausea in her belly filled her with a dizziness that she knew could only be cured by burrowing into his arms and letting him have his way to her.

All she had to do was set aside her mission and-

Mission.

Her eyes widened as she caught sight of an innocuous badge lying against the man's phone. It was a Griffon staff badge, the kind one of the low-level human staff were granted. How did he have that? The data breach! He had snuck directly into their base and stolen the data himself. That meant he had access directly to the T-Dolls. He didn't even need to kidnap Ithaca, he could just wait until she was in the repair bay in a capsule and sneak her powered-down body out.

She needed to warn her fellow T-Dolls!

His cock plunged into her, taking her from behind in a single thrust. Distracted as she was by the awful realization, she was not prepared in the slightest, and yelped as his battering ram of a cock plowed into her raw flesh. The powerful, deep thrust lifted her off her knees, dropping her head back into the carpet as her arms buckled from the sudden shift in her weight.

It hurt even less this time, but the muscles in her vagina still cried out in pain as they were once again brutally stretched past their normal shape. Her lungs emptied in a violent sigh, and before she could draw in another breath he had pulled halfway out and thrust into her again. His cock went in even deeper than before, forcing a new part of her pussy apart, flooding her mind with fireworks. His hips rolled into her, sending shockwaves through her body each time his hips slapped against her ass cheeks. She could hardly catch her breath, reduced to animalistic grunts as they rutted on the floor like animals.

Her drool splattered on the carpet, wetting her face as she struggled to retain a grasp on her sanity.

Slap

"Eek!"

His hand stuck her plump ass, the sound erupting in the room like thunder following lightning. Her body went rigid, pussy tightening to vice-like levels around his cock, catching even him by surprise as a minute, barely noticeable orgasm ripped through her body. Her body shivered uncontrollably, eyes pinching closed, only distantly aware of a muttered curse from the man as his smooth, powerful fucking ground to a sudden halt.

"Fuck," he swore, his voice shifting an octave. It was the closest thing to weakness she had seen in him. "You tightened up like a damn vacuum."

He rubbed her aching ass, massaging the skin that felt like it was on fire. DSR-50 gazed back at him, her vision obscured by thick clumps of her hair spilling over her face.

After allowing her a few seconds to recover, he resumed fucking her. His pace increased noticeably, pumping his hips with something similar to the force he had shown on the bed. It was wonderful, she thought, hating herself for how her belly welcomed him in, how obscene sounds squelched from her pussy each time his cock drew back, honey splattering his hips as his flared head scooped out her juices like a spoon emptying an ice cream container.

Slap

She was almost expecting it this time, but she squealed just as hard, and her body orgasmed just as softly. Again, he swore as her canal tightened up, pressing so tightly that she could feel the heat of their friction as his cock scraped against her walls.

Fuck me, she breathed, voice lost in the lewd sounds echoing in the room.

Slap

"Haaa!"

Slap

"Nnggg!"

His hands came down again and again, spanking both ass cheeks in no recognizable pattern. One then the other, or a few times in a row, back to back or with stretches of a whole minute between them. He taunted her by not letting her know what was coming. Each spanking came out of the blue, always when she wasn't expecting it. Some fiercer than others, some almost a gentle love tap. In between each spanking he kneaded her aching buttocks, soothing the pain and making her think that it was all over, only to slap her ass when she finally thought it was over. And each one triggered a tiny little orgasm inside her, a heart-stopping thrill of pleasure that made her back arch and her toes curl.

She was drooling freely from both ends, forming a pool of bodily fluids under her mouth and between her knees. The pressure building in her chest and belly was crushing her lungs, making her breathing harder and rougher. The nerves in her body were crackling with each touch, the sensation growing so sharp it became almost painful. And his damned cock never slowed in the slightest.

"It's c-coming," she whimpered, feeling the dam that was holding her back begin to crack. "Don't! D-don't stop!"

He let out a savage growl, both hands clamping down on her hips as he abandoned playing with her body to satiate their mutual need. His hips quickened even more, slamming frantically into her smaller body, suddenly reaching even deeper into her than before. Something thick and heavy knocked against the entrance to her womb, triggering an ear-splitting scream from the T-Doll as his cock bottomed out inside her.

"There! Right there! Don't stop don't stop don't stop!"

She screamed into the carpet, uncaring for how slutty she looked, unable to process anything beyond her hips slapping wildly into his. Her whole body became consumed in convulsive pleasure, any semblance of sanity vanishing under a monsoon of ecstasy. It poured into her, filling her core with a molten heat. Her legs shivered uncontrollably, quivering in his arms, stretching his way and that as if to discharge the overflowing pleasure out of her toes.

DSR-50 gasped fitfully, her body still shaking as the last throes of orgasm flitted through her body. Her mind and body were a mess, both soiled beyond repair. Numbly, she sank down onto the carpet and allowed the tactile feel of the carpet against her skin to ground her body, calm her mind. The sticky puddle clinging to her cheek and lips was shameful, but she did not have the strength to pull away from it.

"Good girl," he muttered. One of his hands stroked her back, rubbing her spine in smooth circular motions. She practically purred at his touch. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

The Rifle melted into his arms, humming a gentle noise as he scooped her up in his arms. Her head rested in the crook of his neck, savoring the heat of his body. The musk of his sweat clung to them both in a pleasing fragrance. Nuzzling into his throat, she licked at his skin and placed soft kisses on his warm flesh. His chest rumbled in a dull sound of approval, and he kissed her forehead as he carried her into the suite's bathroom, and then into the shower stall.

"Hold me," he ordered, shifting his hands to grip her with some stability. She obediently draped her arms over his neck and clung to him. A moment later one of his hands dropped away from her back, and the shower stall hissed to life.

She squeaked in shock as the cold water splashed against her. For several seconds the stream of water was frigid, causing her to press her body into his for warmth. Her red eyes peered up at him, watching him as he suppressed a small grin at her discomfort. Then, slowly, the water warmed up and became a heated stream.

Turning them both this way and that, he positioned them so that the shower washed away the sweat from the bodies. It drummed against her skin, a soothing rainfall. Content to remain like this, she sighed wearily and did not complain when the man carefully lowered her feet to the ground and embraced her. Arms wrapped around her back, he guided her backwards until she bumped against the transparent glass of the stall. The spot took her out of the shower's stream, something she noticed with concern as his lips pressed in on her shoulder.

"Th- the shower," she murmured, eyes widening at the lust spreading across his face.

"I'll clean you off again," he promised.

A hand slipped between her thighs, and she moaned when his fingers began to stroke her slit. Ravenous kisses descended on her, drowning her complaints. Her legs shook from exhaustion, weakened over and over by the prolonged and repeated stimulation he had put her through. One of her hands clung to his shoulder, frantically leaning into him for support, while the other weakly pushed at his hand, attempting to drive his fingers from her pussy.

"Mnn- n-noo… ahh… haa…"

His kisses traveled down her collarbone, sinking down the swell of her breast until he caught her aching nipple in his teeth. He bit down just a little, pinching her nipple and eliciting a choked cry. Alternating between breasts, he kissed and licked and bit her, enjoying every centimeter of her flesh. Those fingers teasing her pussy forced her slit open and dug inside, entering her as smoothly as a man entering his own home.

The hum of the shower muffled the slick sounds coming from her breasts and hips. She whimpered with each bite of his teeth, moaned when his fingers slipped in and out of her. His fingers curled in scooping motions, dragging them along her inner walls. Each time his fingers emerged, she felt a slimy goo drip down her thighs. His fingers reached in deep, grasping inside her. Making her eyes roll in her head. Making her lungs burn with frantic gasps.

His mouth was magical. Playing with her breasts, suckling on her nipples and sliding his tongue between her breasts, lapping at the rivulets of water that trickled down her chest. She could not hold in her moans and let them echo in the shower stall. She spread her knees, opening up her hips to allow him better access. His fingers reached in ever deeper, forcing breathier gasps from her lungs.

"You taste like a dream," he grunted, lifting his head to press his lips against her chin.

"Ghh, ah- what does a- a dream taste like?"

Rather than answer, he eased his fingers from her soaked pussy and dropped to his knees. Strong hands held her thighs apart, and his tongue inserted itself into her gaping, twitching pussy. Once again, he showed little restraint in his passion. His tongue attacked her pussy in a frenzy. It speared inside her, wriggling about in her inner walls over and over.

"Ahhhhh~! Slo-oower!"

He paid her no heed. His lips hummed, vibrating against her pussy, driving her to a greater pleasure. She clawed at his shoulders, desperate to push him away but unwilling to commit. His tongue left her defenseless, stripped her sanity from her each time she thought it was clawing its way back. A dazzling jolt shot up from her clit when his teeth grazed against her. The shock of it numbed her legs, and she sank into his hands, having lost the strength to stand. His hands threw her legs over his shoulders, lifting her entirely off the ground, pinning her between the shower wall and his mouth.

"Ggaaaaa! N-no moooore! Pl-ease!"

She did not know how long it lasted, but it ended in a full-throated scream she was sure could have been heard by the whole hotel floor. Throwing her head back, she screamed and screamed again as he granted her a pair of orgasms so powerful she could not summon the strength to breathe, and her roar tapered off into a wheezing sob.

Tears flowed freely down her cheeks, and her lungs filled unevenly with each shuddering breath. DSR-50 wept as her body began to short-circuit, her core overheating from the mind-breaking pleasure he filled her with. Crumbling into his arms as he stood up and gathered her close, she sobbed and clung to him. Her legs gave out, leaving her to cling to him with weak strength, to bury her face in his chest as he gently stroked her back with a warm hand.

"Shh… there, there." He smoothed the loose hair from her face, cupped her chin and drew her in for a deep, loving kiss. Her mind went blank, forgetting to breathe at all despite her pounding heart and burning lungs. Rough thumbs wiped against his cheeks, wiping away her tears and caressing her weeping face.

"I… I… too much…" she sobbed. "No… more. C-can't feel my… legs."

"Then I will hold you."

He turned her around, pressing her against the stall's wall, and entered her with a slow, gentle thrust. The Rifle cried out, half-gasping for mercy as he rocked his hips into her, impaling her on his still-hard cock. Lifting her up by her hips, he pinned her to the wall and made love to her with a tenderness so very unlike before. The rolling of his hips was slow, pleasurable, entering and exiting at a speed that invited no pain.

He fucked her in the shower until she came again, no time at all considering how agonizingly overstimulated her body was. Then, carrying her to the bed with his cock still embedded inside her, he sat down on the edge of the bed and fucked her until her spine nearly folded in on itself from the power of her orgasm. Then he turned her around and fucked her with her body atop his, legs wrapped around his waist.

Then he laid on top of her and fucked her.

Then he rolled onto his back and fucked her on top.

Then he fucked her again.

Then he fucked her.

He fucked her.

Fucked her.

Fucked.

F-[ERROR. CORE TEMPERATURES EXCEEDED OPERATIONAL PARAMETERS. EMERGENCY SHUTDOWN INITIATED. REBOOTING.]

When he was finally sated, DSR-50 was a drooling, mindless wreck of a T-Doll. Her core had overheated so badly she could only groan as her nervous system ran through a system reboot. Most of her advanced systems had shut down completely, and it would be at least an hour before she could operate properly.

She was only vaguely aware of the tactile sensation in her body, the heat of his body encompassing hers. He held her like a newborn babe. She lay curled up in his arms, knees tucked to his chest, her head resting on his bicep. A firm hand stroked her hair, picking at curls and bringing them to his nose to sniff. Tears tracked down her well-soaked cheeks, flowing freely because her software had glitched and could not turn them off.

His lips consumed her tears, cleaning her cheeks with unending fascination, kissing her on her nose, cheek, lips, chin. Peppering her face with affection that made her stuttering heart leap and frolic with joy.

The clock read 15:15. Six hours. Six bloody hours of practically non-stop sex. She doubted her own eyes, blurry as they were from her tears, wondering if they were malfunctioning. It was possible. The bed was so drenched with their sweat and fluids it squelched with each little movement of their bodies. She could barely move her body save to curl her fingers in his hair, purse her lips in a welcoming kiss as he caressed her battered and abused body.

"You are lovely," he told her, and she had no doubt he meant that even with how messy she must appear.

"Hmm…" she lacked the strength to even speak. Relishing his words, she pondered how long it would be before she could rise from bed. She was not sure if she wanted to rise from the bed. Not for a while, at least. He was far too comfortable and the bed was wonderful even though it was wet and disheveled.

"I need to get ready," he warned her.

A tired sigh eased out of her lungs. She reached after him, but her arm fell slack after he climbed over her and left the bed. Turning onto her back, she gazed after him as he padded into the bathroom. The shower hissed on, and she sighed in relief that he was finally done with her.

Her mind struggled to orient itself in the wake of his leaving. Mission. She was here on a mission. Her rational thoughts dragged themselves back to her consciousness, angrily reminding her of why she had come into this room before she lost herself in the wild affair. The suitcase, the folder with Itchaca's bio, and the Griffon access badge. She needed to get up and get her thumb drive from his computer.

She wanted to get up, but her body refused to comply. Lost in her helpless state, she rolled her neck and alternated between checking the clock and inspecting the room. His phone… there. A little light blinked every few seconds with the alert that he had received a message. The clock changed every minute, carrying on until it read 15:25.

The shower turned off, and she heard the wet smack of his feet on the tiled floor.

"I'll have to thank Kalina," he told her, appearing in the doorway to the bathroom naked saved for a towel wrapped around his waist.

Her ears perked up in shock at the name that rolled off his lips.

"Ka…lina?"

His mouth quirked in a cheeky smile. "Don't worry, I'll tell her you-"

The door to the room burst inwards, propelled by a powerful kick. DSR-50 flinched, her reflexes dulled by her exhaustion.

Three figures stormed into the room with weapons leading. StG44, G3, and HK23 spilled into the room in textbook breaching fashion, weapons sweeping for a split second before zeroing in on the target.

"Hands where I can see them you creep," stG44 shouted.

"D-don't try anything," HK23 added, for some reason blushing furiously.

The three T-Dolls thrust their barrels at the man, who remained frozen in the bathroom's entryway, watching them with an expression half-stunned, half-amused. He opened his mouth to speak, but stG44 silenced him with a warning growl.

"Don't you move a muscle. I won't hesitate to pull the trigger on you, y- you… you…"

The elder Assault Rifle's voice trailed off, her voice growing weak with disbelief. DSR-50 saw it too. StG44 was aiming her assault rifle not at the man, but at a point just off of his shoulder. The Assault Rifle grimaced and her arm tensed, straining with effort, but her aim slid smoothly over the man before settling on a point just off to his other side.

"That's interesting," he muttered, cocking his head to one side.

"S-stay back! I will shoot you!" StG44's voice sounded a touch shrill as the realization settled in. She couldn't aim at him. Try as she might, her programming was overriding her desire to keep him in her sights. "G-G3! Grab DSR-50 and get her out of here. Don't you move a muscle!"

G3 and HK23 rushed over to her side. DSR-50 blushed furiously, so embarrassed at her lewd state she wished she could shut down and memory wipe herself. The two T-Dolls gazed at her body in amazement, stammering over their words as they tried to find somewhere clean to touch her.

"H-h...he…" DSR-5o tried to warn them, but her words failed to form. She didn't have the energy. Her batteries were shot, and with her system rebooting all she could do was mumble incoherently.

"What are you doing? Stop that! I'm not kidding!"

The man took a step towards stG44, and she took a fearful step backwards. His hand snatched up, grabbing her assault rifle by the barrel and forcing it against his chest. A mumbled whine spilled from stG44's mouth. Her hand had slipped free of the trigger and hung loose by her side, unable to hold onto the weapon while it was pointed at a certain kill-shot on a human being.

"Nnh!"

The Rifle's grunting warning alerted G3, who turned around and gasped in horror. In an instant, she lifted her own assault rifle and trained it- just to the side of the man.

"G-give her weapon b-back! Get away from her!"

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?"

A sharp, human voice cut through the panic-stricken room. DSR-50's spine tingled at the familiar, and outraged voice. It was a voice every T-Doll at the base knew by heart. A voice they had all heard so many times they could pick it out of a crowd with no problem.

Kalina stood in the ruined doorway, wearing her familiar mismatched thigh-high socks, pleated skirt and modified dress shirt under a sticker and flair-laden jacket. The Griffon redheaded logistics officer was slack-jawed, gaping at the chaos. Behind her, blushing demurely, was Ithaca 37.

"Ith…" DSR-50 tried to cry out a warning.

"Kalina!" StG44 shot the logistics officer a wild-eyed look. "We need your help! This man is involved in a smuggling ring, and he attacked DSR-50. We must take him into-"

"Smuggling ring?" Kalina's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. "What are you talking about? That's impossible."

"B-but we have been tracking him. He's been spying on the base!" HK23 squeaked when the man's gaze shifted over to her. Despite having a light machine gun, she was quite timid, and nervously hid herself behind G3.

"And he's in Griffon's database as a person of interest," G3 added, blushing when his gaze shifted to her.

"That's because he is a person of interest," Kalina shouted. She stormed into the room, dragging the startled Ithaca 37 by the elbow. "I cannot believe you morons. What the hell are you doing in his ro-oh! Oh my god!"

Her face flushed a deep red when she cleared the kitchenette counter and made eye contact with DSR-50. Everyone in the room went silent, including stG44, who finally turned around to look at the Rifle.

"Hu… hello," DSR-50 mumbled, averting her eyes.

"Holy jeebus, you look like you got dunked in a tub of- ack!"

Kalina's exclamation was cut short by Ithaca frantically throwing a hand over her mouth. Every woman in the room, human or T-Doll, was flushed red as a tomato.

"Well, uh," the man was not immune to the mutual embarrassment. He scratched his jaw and glanced away. "Miss Kalina, you are early. I wasn't expecting you for another fifteen minutes."

"I, ummm, I heard some of our T-Dolls were causing a ruckus," Kalina answered, struggling to tear her eyes off of the Rifle's drenched form.

HK23 belatedly grabbed some of the disturbed sheets and tossed them over DSR-50 to cover her.

"I am guessing by all the confusion that there was a bit of a miscommunication here," the man said, shooting DSR-50 an apologetic look. 'You see, I-"

"M- fault," the Rifle volunteered, weakly sputtering up the words.

"Eh? What kind of miscommunication?" Kalina delicately stepped past the foot of the bed, consciously keeping her gaze averted from both the man and DSR-50. "So you thought he was in a smuggling ring? And you were in his room, I take it. Here you are!" She yanked the thumb drive from his computer and held it up triumphantly. "This is what you were doing, wasn't it?"

"..." DSR-50 blushed when the man shot her an amused look.

"Don't worry about security," he told Kalina. "That's an empty computer and she wasn't walking out of here with it to begin with."

His explanation mollified the grim look Kalina shot his way. Shaking her head and offering a sigh of disappointment, she pointed an accusing hand at the German T-Dolls and motioned for them to scoot away from the bed.

"Well, I guess I can't blame you too much, considering we kept him under wraps. This guy, the supposed smuggler, is your new base Commander. That's why he's in our database and that's why he was inspecting the base. He wanted to take a look at it before coming in officially.

"B-but he has Ithaca's profile!" HK23 glared accusingly at the man from behind G3's slender back.

"I hadn't met a T-Doll face-to-face before today," he told them. "Kalina chose Ithaca to bring in to introduce me. I had questions about how you ladies operated."

"~oh~"

The T-Dolls' heads lowered in embarrassment. Ithaca smiled faintly and enveloped stg44 in a big hug.

"I appreciate the thoughts, guys!"

"Yes, well that doesn't answer my burning question of what the hell happened to DSR-50 there?" The only other human in the room was only mildly affected by the Shotgun's cheer.

"She was in here when I came back to the room," the man answered. His discomfort had faded somewhat, though he had the tension of a man who worried if he had goofed up in front of his superiors. "Things were said that… intimated she was here for a certain purpose."

Kalina's sharp gaze settled on the Rifle. Her irritation outweighed any sense of awkwardness, and now that the Rifle was covered she was less shameful to look at.

"Nnh," DSR-50 groaned and covered her face.

"Seriously though, did you bring a whole gang of men with you or what?"

"No, it was just him," G3 answered.

"One man… did that?"

"It's true," stG44 muttered quietly.

"And how would you know that," Kalina asked. "Didn't you three come tearing back to base to arm up?"

"..." stg44 mumbled, staring intently at her boots.

"Speak up, lady." Kalina thrust out an accusing hand.

"She… um… she was broadcasting on the channel the entire time," HK23 whispered quietly, her voice barely audible in the quiet room.

"Ng!" DSR-5o felt her heart stop.

"...and… she accidentally turned on her video feed when she muted us," stg44 added. "We… we kind watched and listened to the whole thing."

DSR-50 buried her head under the sheet, desperately wishing her core would shatter so she could be booted up from her most recent backup and pretend this whole thing never happened.