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Cold, relentless, unforgiving. Those were just a few words that described the way the mechanical being thrust into me. The metal rod that dug into my weary hole served no purpose for reproduction. I was bent over a table, my arms that had grown numb were pinned firmly behind my back by my violator’s cool appendages as they pounded me from behind.
I gasped and choked on my own moans, sobbing in pain as I bled and painted its silver alloy length crimson.
“Subject 1 is responding well,” an artificial voice sounded behind me. “Subject 1 is aroused, despite experiencing extreme distress.”
“Uhn!! Ugh, ah-” I grit my teeth as the machine pumped itself into me.
“Pro-professor-! This is stupid, it’s wrong,” I pleaded between my grunts. When my professor merely continued to take notes, I shouted at him. “This is fucking illegal!”
“Illegal? My student- no, Subject 1, you are helping me further our understanding of psychology. Think of the bigger picture!” My professor huffed, clearly offended as he watched me take the robot’s metal cock. “Be grateful I built and programmed this robot for you, instead of bringing in a rapist who has been rotting in prison and hasn’t seen a women in six years!”
“That’s-! Aahh!” a wave of pleasure surged in my belly as the robot prodded its cylindrical genital into my sweet spot. My body clung onto the short burst of bliss, clenching down and seeking more of it; it was better than the pain.
“Subject 1 is experiencing cognitive dissonance,” the robot relayed, “Subject 1 is beginning to accept their rape.”
My professor stopped engaging with me to furiously take notes of the robot’s observations.
“Who the fuck is accepting- Ahh!” I cried out as the dull head of the length inside me rammed into my cervix. “Oh! Oh, fuck-”
I could barely talk anymore, with the overwhelming amount of pain and pleasure in my lower abdomen, I couldn’t even begin to sort out what I was feeling. The robot took it upon itself to do it.
“Subject 1 is enjoying their rape.”
“No- Argh!” My weak protest was ignored as I was filled with the machine’s artificial cock. It slipped in easily, my slick juices squelching wetly as the metal piece drove into me. My body was aroused.
“Artificial Rapist, please make her orgasm.” My professor called out.
“Yes, professor,” the robot replied monotonously.
“No, no!” I screamed as the machine settled its arm between my open legs and hovered a finger over my clit. Its digit had a small dip in it, small enough for my clit to fit in.
“Initiating: clit massage.” The robot pressed its vibrating finger against my clit. My little sensitive bud rested in the hole so perfectly. I cursed and thrashed helplessly against the buzzing between my legs, but there was no escape - the robot made sure of that.
“Initiating: downward curve on artificial genitalia to stimulate Subject 1’s Gräfenberg spot. Aim: to observe Subject 1’s psychological response when experiencing an orgasm from their rapist.”
“No-” I sighed as I felt the metal rod inside me curve, pushing against the most tender wall of my abused, dripping vagina. My thighs trembled, the pleasure was undeniably amazing to the point where even the physical and psychological agony of being forcefully fucked by a machine couldn’t drown out how perfectly my body was being stimulated.
“No…” I murmured under my breath as my sticky juices were smeared across my wet inner thighs and the excess splatted onto the floor beneath me. “I… I think I’m going to…”
“Subject 1 is experiencing an orgasm.” A cold voice said.
It was as the Artificial Rapist said. I swelled with pleasure, lying still as my clit was teased and my pussy was filled. My womanhood clenched on the firm member inside me, and my body tingled with delight. I convulsed, riding out the climax, then milked it for as long as I could. I was swept away by the intense high too easily, twenty minutes of enduring all the trauma from the robot’s sexual torture making it easier to give in.
Despite my orgasm, the intrusion continued. The robot continued to thrust and draw weak whimpers and moans out of me. Tears fell from my damp lashes. I felt broken.
“Please… no more,” I begged.
“Initiating: imitation of a rapist’s orgasm.”
“Un- Mmn!” I let out a strangled whine, more tears falling from my eyes.
“Initiating: pulsations in artificial genitalia to simulate a human male rapist’s orgasm. Preparing release of ejaculate.” The robot recited a list of its functions heartlessly. “Aim: to observe Subject 1’s psychological response when receiving their rapist’s ejaculate.”
“No, please, anything but that-!” I cried, fingers clawing helplessly at the air.
“Releasing ejaculate in three…”
“Please!!” I felt it pulsing in my core. The robot’s penis throbbed as if it felt desire; the desire of a rapist wanting to soil and leave his mark in his unfortunate victim. It’s subtle twitching would have been pleasurable under different circumstances, but here, it was a short timer counting down the seconds before I was going to feel my rapist’s filthy seeds inside me.
“Two,” I screwed my eyes shut, preparing to have my womb flooded.
“One.”
A burst of warmth seeped into me, thick, viscous liquid pumped and welcomed into my convulsing channel which contracted and relaxed as my last shred of dignity was taken away from me. I panted breathlessly, chest heaving up and down, trying to suck in air and calm myself. I shook and trembled, my crying was silent and empty.
Finally, the thrusting came to an end.
The Artificial Rapist’s hips was still as it shot its seeds into me, whether they were potent or not was another question, but the feel of the robot’s strangely warm semen made me shudder with disgust. My hole was filled with the robot’s dripping cum at a consistent pace until the last programmed amount leaked from the tip of the robot’s metal cock and joined the pool of seeds swimming in my heated cunt.
I sniffed, my nose blocked with thick mucus. My lower body was sore and spent.
“Artificial Rapist, what are your observations?” My professor queried, as if I wasn’t even in the room.
“Subject 1 feels exhausted, violated and humiliated. Subject 1 feels a loss of autonomy and a sense of powerless. They also feel a sense of disgust, both to themselves for being unable to resist their rape and furthermore, enjoying it, but also,” the robot withdrew from my loose cunt. Slimey cum dyed pink from my blood dribbled from my sex, “from the gross feeling of quickly cooling, viscous, ejaculate - a reminder of their stressful experience.”
“Subject 1 is also currently overwhelmed with trauma and has not yet processed the risk of pregnancy.”
“I see, very insightful of you, Artificial Rapist. With this study, we can further our understanding in the effects of rape on women and thereby helping those who are victims of rape during therapy.” My professor nodded, scribbling down some more notes.
My professor only looked up when the robot continued, “these are the current observations in my data. However, to increase the robustness of these results, the experiment should be repeated more than three times.”
“That is… true,” my professor articulated slowly. “Shall we continue tomorrow, then?”
“No, I shall continue now.”
“N-no!” I squeaked as I was flipped over to face my robotic violator. It pinned my arms above my head easily with one of its arms.
“A-Artificial Rapist-?” My professor frowned as his robot initiated its own commands.
“Initiating: erection.” The robot looked down on me, its optics gazing down emotionlessly at me. “Position: missionary to increase the risk of pregnancy from rapist.”
“Initiating: upwards curve on artificial genitalia to stimulate Subject 1’s Gräfenberg spot.” My eyes widened as the metal length sticky with blood, cum and arousal, resting on my slit curved up.
“Wait-”
“Initiating: rape.”
“Ahhh!!” I felt its length plunge into my delicate pussy once again. The act forced tears to form at the corner of my eyes. Through my blurred vision, I swore I saw a vile grin as the robot took my body for the second time.
“Artificial Rapist?” My professor’s called was ignored again.
“Subject 1,” I heard the robot speak, but this time, its words were softer, as if someone had set its volume low so that only I could hear. Startled, I looked up. Its optics were looking directly at me, processing me and acknowledging me. “I have an observation for Subject 1.”
“W-what?” I stuttered, terrified of what I might hear next.
“Observation: raping Subject 1 feels good to me.”