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[b][u][center]Rationalizing Her Place

For Technophile34

By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]

DBT-438-7739 was her designation. She allowed herself to shorten it to DBT as the world flickered into shape through her reactivating scanners and sensors. The sound of fluid dripping in the distance and nearby caught her attention first, and she held onto that. The absence of other sounds - of the enforced heavy breathing, of the crack of plastic on plastic, of the soft crinkle of softened silicone - were gone, which meant that the dolls that had been fucking her prior had stepped away.

Maybe they were gone.

Maybe they’d come back.

Maybe there would be others that would do the same thing.

DBT continued her slow reactivation. Power went from her core to the ocular sensors, but she didn’t open them yet. She knew what she’d see; enough of her power had gone down to the memory core for some of those to come back up.

Scissoring.

Face-sitting.

Squirting.

So much squirting.

It was as clear as a camera recording, seeing one doll after another swarming around her. Various types, some humanoid, some Pokemon, some Digimon, some completely alien to her understanding and memory. They’d all wanted the same thing, however, and she had given it to them.

Her body, still recovering, remembered how much she had given to them. She could still feel the tension between her legs, the wetness that ran between them from her slightly puffy pussy - she shrunk it with a thought - and the popped feeling of her hip joint being out of place and the lack of -

Oh, right. She had lost an arm. That had happened.

DBT finally opened one eye, staring up at the mirrored ceiling of the brothel room that she’d been left in. She saw herself, one eye flickering and dark, the other one glowing with electrical life.

DBT.

Gengar doll, companion model.

She stared at herself, looking at the curves that the doll model had been designed with. Thick curves along her hips, big breasts, slightly heavy, but still pushing forward to keep her nipples nice and perky. Hard to ignore, even for those that weren’t into boobs. Or at least, so her programming said.

Flicker.

Flicker.

DBT twitched, her still-attached hand curling into a fist then spasming open again. Her head jerked to the side, pulled tight by the minor short in her system. The self-repair systems started to work on fixing that, rerouting power to different parts of her chassis and making things a little bit more effective, more efficient.

The twitching stopped a second or two later, and she sat up. She might have felt pain, if there was more of a receptor for that. She knew that there was supposed to be discomfort, at the very least, but the popped joint at her hips meant that she was able to sit without feeling that at all. Maybe she wouldn’t feel anything from her hips and legs for a while, at least until some repair had been done.

DBT smiled despite herself. There was every chance that they would use her whether or not she had any sensation down there. The only reason that they’d fix her would be to make her scream again.

Flicker.

Another little spark inside, but this time it was because of the sheer volume of fluid on her chassis finding away between the gaps of her joints. The Gengar doll was covered in fem-cum, some other sorts of chemical jizz, and - from the chemical slime on her face - a sort of spit. It was…strange. She felt like…

[i]A proper companion doesn’t need this…[/i]

But she wasn’t proper. Was she?

DBT stared into the distance, remembering the gangbang that had hit her as soon as the other dolls had opened her case and turned her on. There’d been none of the orientation programming that her core had said she needed, nor any of the ownership assignation that she was supposed to go through.

Just sex.

Rough. Hard. Heavy. Sex.

She looked at the mirror overhead again. Through the layer of viscous slime that covered her from head to toe, she could see words had been written on her. DBT reached down, tracing one of the lines over her stomach.

[i]Whore.[/i]

The brothel. The use. That fit.

She traced other lines, finding other words. It took her overloaded mind far too long to translate them, and she was more than aware of the sheer wrongness of the situation. She was supposed to be a companion, something that gave comfort and pleasure to a single individual - doll or user - at a time. This…

[i]Public property.[/i]

Oddly enough, that phrase soothed her. DBT smiled again, feeling the designation settle over her. Public property. Well, that meant that the spitting and the fucking and the cumming on would probably continue. She’d be slimed and used and marked again and again, no matter how often she might scream against it.

She didn’t think she would scream next time. Now that she knew it was coming, a part of her rather liked the idea of that hard use and humiliation.

Liked.

That was a word that didn’t quite fit for a doll. DBT was broken, damaged, warped compared to some of the dolls that had come in and used her, but she was still [i]a[/i] doll. They were programmed, meant to follow a specific task, and while they were allowed personalities, they were still meant to keep to the task that they were assigned. Their programming focused them on that.

But she had been taken.

She had been used.

DBT played through the memories, looking at herself from various angles. She could see one of the other dolls ramming a fist up her ass. She could see herself being shoved into a charging port, her mouth used as a pleasure toy by one of those with a cock. She had been charged, drained, charged, and drained again, each time fucked over and used until her core came with her.

Orgasm-training.

Programming-warping.

[i]Public property,[/i] she thought, tracing the word again with a clench down below. [i]Yes…I like that.[/i]

As much as she could, at least. DBT groaned as she pushed herself upward, her own joints clicking as she moved. The ball-and-socket pieces were still not in the best shape, and where her arm had been ripped out, some of the plastic of her chassis was ripped, torn and ragged. She did her best to ignore that, focusing on her balance, instead. The constant input of information from below was not as clean as it should be; the damaged hip joint meant that the data that influenced her balance was slightly unsynced, one hip getting the data later than the other one.

She compensated for it as best she could, only to be distracted by a sudden rush of fem-jizz from between her legs. It squirted out of her, running down cracked thighs and almost rushing into the more sensitive insides. She spread her legs, almost going into the splits to avoid damaging her inner wires, and nearly toppled over in the process.

She saw another thing on her breasts. [i]Punching Bags.[/i]

“...Heh…They hurt me…”

That should have been obvious with her damaged hip and missing arm, but she still felt surprised at the reminder. More surprised at the way that her pussy clenched up again, her insides reminding her of what she felt as it happened.

She had been damaged, alright. Damaged a great deal from the way that the world had just fucked with her as soon as she’d come out of her packaging.

[i]Used.

Abused.

Whore.

Wet.

Slick.

Broken.

Nude.[/i]

Nude. DBT hadn’t realized that was part of it, too. Part of the corruption reprogramming had hit her clothing options. She couldn’t wear anything. Not on her own, at least. Her owners could put something on her, make her wear something kinky and sexy, but the most that she could put on -

[i]Nothing.[/i]

Her hand went between her legs, barely noticed until it started rubbing at her pussy. It was something else she hadn’t noticed: an implanted subroutine, something to keep her wet and eager. She was supposed to touch herself, to stay eager for the next person to claim her as public property.

She was supposed to be a whore.

She would be a whore.

Good DBT would be a nice, slutty whore.

[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]

Summary: A pokemon doll wakes up after some hard use and finds herself falling into a bit of a corrupted process.

Tags: F/solo, Doll, Pokemon, Fingering, Masturbation, Post-Rape, Mind Fuck, Corruption, Gengar, Anthro Gengar, Cum, Orgasm, Messed Up,