Product Design
#1 of "product" series
The sun rose on the metropolitan city, the shimmering cars and dismal, filthy alley ways illuminated in prideful shame. For between the luxury jewelers and the high class, fancy restaurant runs a dark strip, covered with the grime and filth of negligence and excess. In this dreadful stink, ignored by those who walk and drive the clean streets adjacent lives a proud man of forty-three. His name is of little importance, not just to you, but to anyone. The man led a lonely existence and had no one to call him by his name. Each morning the man would be woken by hunger, forced to check the neighboring dumpsters for anything to quell his need at least for a little while. His skin was dry and filthy, his nails long and wild, like his black hair. He wore only a pair of jeans, the knees of which were only a pleasant memory, like the elbows of his tattered trench coat; no buttons remained to hold it over his bare chest. After his breakfast, consisting of expired foods and the scraps of the patrons to the neighboring restaurant, he'd retrieve his cardboard sign from under the dumpster. He couldn't risk losing it, he had no way of knowing when he may receive another marker or pencil.
It was a short walk to the corner, not the most strategic location but he had to conserve his energy, for if he were to fall asleep, he was likely to lose his few precious possessions; his clothes and sign. His sign was his mouth, shouting to all who would look, "Hungry hard worker; will work for food and clothes." His real mouth would only emit a gruff, harsh tone, as it was scarcely used, only to thank those few who would stop to donate or help him.
Although he was often only cheered by his occasional visitors, or by the beauty of the violet light shimmering down, refracting in the smog above, this day he would get everything his sign asked for. He thought it must be after noon, though he hasn't seen a clock in years, and his stomach was demanding more food. As he was nearly ready to go back to his dumpster, in search of more food but he was interrupted by an unmarked white van, immaculate in every way, shimmering in the filtered light. It drove right up to the curb and the window rolled down, a man in dark glasses leans out.
"Hungry worker? Get in the car, we have work for you." The man beamed, overjoyed, not a shadow of a doubt playing across his face as he clambered into the back seat.
He left the van at the entrance to the main branch of a chain of sex shops; O co. was responsible for most new technologies since about five years ago, in 2018, so the man was obviously unsure about this. But he, so desperate for work, he still followed the driver into the store, taking a turn before they got to any of the merchandise, and into a small interview room, he never came back out.
A month passed by, the man was never seen again, not to say he died...
The man woke instead of in a filthy alley, in a sterile bed, he sits up and looks around, stark white walls now surround him. He felt dazed and confused, as if abruptly woken from a two and a half-hour nap after forty-eight waking hours. He stood and looked around, only now taking in that he was inside; the second thing he noticed was that there was no door. The perfectly clean, white walls had not a single blemish, no nail, no bubble, no chip. The only thing in the room was the bed on which he woke and a full length mirror. This leads to his third discovery; He was no longer human.
His entire body was now covered in luxurious white fur, soft and plush to the touch. His ears now were long, floppy and sensitive, coming straight from the top of his head, his face, softer and slightly extended; he resembled a naked anthropomorphic rabbit, wearing only a steel collar. He was shorter now as well, more shapely and definitely younger, maybe late teens. Though, he was unable to make such comparison, as he could not recall one thing, no face, no name, nothing from before he woke only a few moments ago.
Just as he was sorting out his confusion, all four walls of his room vanished, falling into the floor. A grinning man stands in front of him; this man is clothed, and actually clothed nicely. He wore a blue button up shirt above black pants and a white coat over that. "Good morning, it's good to see you've recovered. Your breakfast will be in shortly, remember to eat it all." The grinning man then left without allowing the man to say a word, walking through as a wall opens for him.
The confused man then sat on his bed, trying to remember. Was he sick, what did he have? Was that his father or something? Shortly after, a tile in front of him lowers, only to rise again with a large salad and a glass of tea. The smell of the veggies made him hungry, an attribute given to him to make him cuter, and so he ate hungrily. Unknown to him, the salad is riddled with a strong aphrodisiac, odorless, tasteless; he had no idea what he was eating. He finished everything, leaning back with a satisfied smile, rubbing his belly as his table disappears again.
From a surveillance room the researchers watch as their new product is tested by the clueless bunny, who began to squirm and whimper as his prick began to twitch and harden until it simply could not anymore. He looked for any other distraction but the only thing other than him was the bed. So he lie down and put the blanket over him, but this only made his need increase as the blanket rubbed against his ultrasensitive member. He gripped the blanket and bit his teeth, whimpering as his desire began to consume him, blocking out all else. Shame, pride, decency, none of it was important so long as he got off.
He threw the blanket, made so hot by his rising temperature off and stood up. He griped his shaft with a velvet paw and rubs up to the tip, making his back arch and tongue flop out, naturally defecting to this highly erotic pose on instinct as he furiously pumped his pulsing cock, moaning seductively as he squirts pre from the tip. He drops to his knees, losing control completely as he leans forward, placing his free paw on the ground with his chest barely higher than that.
And with a load moan of intense pleasure and a few more desperate strokes, he fires his load onto his chest, unable to stop as the torrent lasts unnaturally long, to him it felt at least half a minute, and the mess on his chest and puddle beneath him can attest to that. With a satisfied sigh he collapses in his own puddle of seed, too weak to move.
The bunny looked up with a whimper of shame to see the man he was greeted by before leaning against a far wall. "tsk, tsk, tsk," said he, leaning on a wall. "You know you're not allowed to touch yourself. You've been a naughty bunny." And he produced a remote from his pocket on which he hits a button, sending pain and electricity to the neck of the bunny, who writhes, thrashing about in his own spunk until he is finally released from the pain by the same ominous remote.
"Now, clean yourself up and don't forget the rules again." And again the man disappears without a word and a bathtub rising from the floor, filled with water.
"I need to remember," thought the bunny as he picked himself up, his fur covered and matted down with his own juices. And walked, letting his hips sway naturally seductively, to the tub and climbed into the warm, relaxing bath water that smelled a bit like lavender." I don't want to get shocked again."
And in the surveillance room, two proud researchers agree, the first product worked perfectly.