ApolloBiotech

I woke up from a quickly fading dream of having my photo shot for making it on San Francisco’s top 25 tech stars under 25 years old. I wasn’t in my bedroom, or any bedroom I recognized, though the room wasn’t completely unfamiliar. I was laying on a medical chair, in a lab that looked very much like the one I demo’ed in Dubai for healthcare mogul Perdana Saleh. Woozy from slumber, I tried to stand up but only my torso moved.

“Whaaa-” I started saying in a groggy stupor, to no one in particular. I tried again moving my limbs more aggressively and noticed my hands and feet were manacled and held in place by four mechanical limb lab assistants, built in the same design language as ApolloBiotech's autonomous surgical assistants, I recognized from my pitches. My gym-built muscles were useless to help me escape.

“Calm down, good morning,” you said gently. I was perplexed to find the voice coming from my boss’ boss. My mind calmed as memories trickled back of the moments prior, coming to your home for a job interview for Hermes Motors, you telling me about my new role at ApolloBiotech, Stealth Division, and you teasing my rock hard cock with erotic handjobs without letting me cum.

Noticing my jacked physique like it was the first time, I saw that I was completely naked. My body fur was buzzed down to stubble except for my treasure trail and areola swirls. I should have considered manscaping, on my own earlier, since my chest and abs really popped with this cosmetic change. Even my pubes were taken down. My balls looked huge and my dick looked decently larger.

“I mean, it's only afternoon since you were just out for a few hours, but I hope you’re well-rested anyway, Mr. Macedo,” you said in an angelic melody. “While you were under, I installed the upgrades for Project Mac. The scarring is minimal thanks to ApolloBiotech's surgical assistant, as you know from being a sales expert on the product."

What the fuck were you talking about? Scarring? Upgrade? Installation?

“We’ve installed some drones, courtesy of Stealth Division. The drone installed in your testicle sack is nicknamed 'Cicada' drone and is attached to the root of your penis. The drone installed in your rectum is nicknamed the 'JellyTick' drone and is attached to the wall against your prostate.”

Fuck. The new role you offered me was to be a product, I recalled. You were using me as a sandbox for a "...living doll," I said to myself, but toward you.

"Good, you remembered. Yes, investors from an exclusive social club called the Black Book are developing you as a product for users who want a living sex doll immersive experience. A club more exclusive than Wingtip for the finance crowd in the Financial District, or even the Battery for the tech crowed a few blocks over in Jackson Square,” you acknowledged. “They're certainly going to love your charm. I've seen you wield your charisma against Doug. While he’s a great head of sales at ApolloBiotech, and aligns with the mission of Stealth, you and I both know he has an exploitable weakness. And you’re talented enough to recognize he was helpless but to hire you on when you coyly worked your strong body and not-so-innocent flirtation.”
 
“What the hell did I ever do to you to be enslaved like this?” I lamented.

“You didn't do anything to me, personally. However, you probably should have done better due diligence to ensure you weren't bedding underage women so the leverage against you wouldn’t exist,” you gloated. “But between you and me, our investors would have been determined to get their hands on this muscular golden-tanned physique anyway. You aren't the 'perfect' look we were thinking of but you're definitely interesting to look at. One investor is going to love your spanish lips, in particular. Another investor will be fond of your thick strong glutes. But Dieter Zhel will require a specific upgrade. He has an obsession with men’s nipples, in his own crude words, 'titpigs'."

Dieter Zhel was a name familiar to me. He was a free trade-big tech libertarian like I was, and notable for being a queer social conservative. A billionaire entrepreneur in the same league as Musk or yourself. Though, some of his venture capital projects were scrutinized as controversial, like in the area of surveillance or life extension.

You brought two mechanical limb lab assistants to my chest level. Nozzles extended from the mechanical limbs, suctioning around my garnet-mahogany areolas. A viscous liquid was sprayed, followed by a puff of chill air, hardening my nipples. Several tiny artificial legs, covered in what felt like feathers, distended in the tube and began to whirl around my hard nipples. 

*Uhhh* 

I groaned in sensitivity. 

“Don’t mind the discomfort, for now. By the end of this process, your brain should be rewired to associate that sensation with pleasure. My goal is to make your nipples your most erogenous zone for Dieter,” you said determined. You brought four more mechanical arms to my body, two at my chest level, two at my hips. Artificial tongues extended from the mechanical limb heads and began licking my pits and adonis belt on both sides. The autonomous tongues had the capability to alternate temperature from warm to cool and could puff up with spikes or deflate back to squishy softness. 

*Fuccckkk* 

I groaned in pleasure. Being turned on by my erogenous zones made me lose focus on any discomfort from my nipples. My cock pulse straight up toward my abs.

One final mechanical limb was brought to my groin. The end of this mechanical limb was a prong head with a spinning satin ribbon. You guided my glans to the center of it. The sensation on my cock head was out of this world. To an outside observer, I would have looked like a lab animal being tested on. I felt like one too. 

I lost track of whatever sense of time I did have while you were monitoring the flexing of my body. 

When I was so close to shooting, you turned everything off but the nipple feathers. 

I didn’t care about my nipple sensations. My body could not stop what already started.

*clamp* 

My cock was twitching but nothing was coming out. My orgasm was stuck in it's tracks.

“What the fuck was that?” I turned to you dismayed while you giddily laughed at me.

“That was your introduction to the ‘Cicada’ drone. It can measure when you’re about to orgasm, and when set to chastity mode, the ‘legs’ will clamp your spermatic chords, preventing you from cumming. With the ‘Cicada’ installed internally, there’s no need for an external chastity cage,” you showed me the app setting on your phone.

“Why the fuck won’t you let me cum? You already edged me twice this morning,” I groused, pulling at my restrained limbs. 

"For my entertainment,” you responded plainly. “But you’re right, I do want to move this along and introduce to you what else the ‘Cicada’ can do.”