A Real Man

Mf - submission, oral worship, misogyny, rough oral, even more misogyny

“Get your clothes off,” he demanded, and my hands instantly went to my blouse buttons.
I glanced at the sliding glass doors, the curtains were open, and there was a whole building of neighbors that could see into his apartment. Could see me getting undressed as I’d been told.
“Can I close the curtains?” I asked as my blouse opened up. The thought of others seeing the frilly lace bra I’d picked out for him made me uncomfortable.
“Nobody gives a shit about you. Get that shit off,” he said without looking up from the tablet in his hands.
My pants came off next, and he didn’t even look up to see the matching panties. I’d picked both for him, lacey, see-through, scarlet red.
When he looked up, my breath hitched, hoping he’d acknowledge how good I looked in the lingerie that I’d gotten just for him in the hopes that his eyes would devour me in that oh so delicious way.
Instead, he just pointed at the floor in front of his recliner. I knew what he wanted and dropped to my knees, reaching for his belt and wetting my lips.
***
At first, I laughed just like all my other girlfriends did. “He’s going to fuck a toaster? Gross!”
“I know, right?” Veronica laughed with a shake of her chest. “As if one of those sex dolls could ever give him what I got.”
Veronica had only dated Eugene out of pity. He’d helped her get through calculus and had chased her like a lovesick puppy. The rest of us teased her; she was only a little overweight, but even she could do better than that nerd. On one hand, I was glad she hooked up with Eugene, it meant she wasn’t competition for the real men… Not that I realistically thought Veronica could ever land a real man. Eugene was probably the best she’d ever get.
All of us laughed at the time, thinking, ‘Poor Veronica, hope she has a really good set of toys…’ Little did we know.
Erosynth had started as a small company that made deluxe, human-sized dolls. The kind shut-ins, incels, and cripples paid a lot of money for, in place of a woman. Year after year, the models got more realistic. Soon they had posable joints, heated flesh, and built-in toys that could suck a watermelon through a garden hose.
Like I said, we laughed at first. However, when Erosynth began incorporating robotics, the laughter died. Some girls, like Veronica, lost their man, but it was mostly the girls who couldn’t do much better than an Eugene.
He’d been an early adopter, ditching the very demanding Veronica quickly for a slim five-foot Erosynth model with a massive chest, blonde hair, and creepy, dead eyes that blinked once in a while. Veronica showed us pictures, and we laughed. Men were so gross, blonde hair and huge tits, fucking typical.
But there was a weird shift. As more stories like this started popping up, stories like Eugene and Veronica, some of the girls quit laughing. They stopped talking about the fun little games we’d put our partners through. You know, the little shit tests that proved we still affected men. It wasn’t many girls, but I did notice that there was a downright submissive streak among certain women who distanced themselves from the rest of us.
***
“Spit on it,” he told me, and I did. I thick wad of my own saliva crawling down his shaft.
“Again,” he demanded, and I did. I watched my spit on him, knowing what came next and dreading it.
“Rub it on your face,” he said, and I did.
His throbbing hot cock was in my hands, and I pressed it to my forehead, then smeared it across my face. I loved the feel of it, hot, burning, silky, and erect just for me. My own spit smeared across my face, I didn’t love so much, but for him, I did it. I kissed the underside of his shaft and continued rubbing him all over my face. Every throb made my cunt spasm. I wanted to touch myself, but he hadn’t permitted me.
***
Veronica was one of the first to say what we were all thinking. In the middle of the cafeteria, in front of dozens of our student peers, she screamed at Eugene, “That’s what you want? A fucking robot that can't say no?”
Eugene shrugged sheepishly, “She doesn’t scream and make scenes…”
“It’s not a she, you fucking loser! It’s fucking plastic and silicon! You're fucking a doll. Does that make you feel like a big man?”
A pack of jocks at a nearby table was snickering as Eugene turned bright red. He tried to snake his way out of the cafeteria dining table, but Veronica smacked him in the side of the head. She continued screaming, “What? You can’t handle a real woman? Fucking loser.”
Browbeat publicly, Eugene snapped, anger twisting his face into rage. He yelled back as he finally worked himself out of the sterile picnic table, “I don’t need this shit, you psycho! I’d rather fuck a doll or a donut than put up with you, you fat pig!”
Veronica broke down crying, “Go on then, play with your little toy. I need a real man who can handle a real emotional girl of flesh and blood. You’ll just be a stunted loser your whole life. You’ll never find love, you loser.”
We all consoled Veronica later. Angie even got her a gift, a huge vibrating dildo with a note reading, “Better in every way than Eugene.” We all laughed, but it was rude and gross of her. She was kind of a bitch that way.
***
“Enough foreplay,” he said down to me, still absorbed in his tablet, not even bothering to look at me or the love and adoration I’d been lavishing on his prick. “Start sucking.”
Pursing my lips, I sucked the tip of his cock into my mouth. Using my tongue, I swirled it across his head. He groaned, which made me giddy with joy, then used one of his hands to shove me down on his cock. Fingers wound in my hair, and he began guiding me over his cock.
“Harder,” he demanded.
I sucked harder, trying to suck his balls up through the shaft. His grip in my hair forced my mouth over him the way he liked, choking me in the process. Ignoring my own gagging noises, I rocked my head, closing my eyes and concentrating on making it perfect for him.
“Fuck yeah, you little whore, fuck yeah…”
***
It was when Erosynth built Wi-Fi into their Dolls that things exploded. With internet access, the dolls could uplink with AI, creating personas that talked and behaved in any way their owner chose. Not only could a Erosynth doll be built physically to their owner's taste, but they were now programmed with personalities perfected by their owners. Sales skyrocketed, and dozens of knock-off companies were launched.
Some women had advocated for male versions of Erosynth, but women were far more complicated creatures. Getting fucked by a doll didn’t satiate that need for connection in most women. The dolls said and acted perfectly, but something was missing for women, some inexplicable quantity.
Women waged war as their dating options dwindled to nil. They posted angrily and frequently:
"This just reinforces toxic fantasies about dominance and compliance."
"What kind of world are we building when artificial submission becomes mainstream?"
"Just because a machine can’t say no doesn’t mean the fantasy is harmless."
"It’s not just sex, it’s a blueprint for unrealistic standards and silent compliance."
Men, for the most part, ignored all of it. Their balls were getting drained regularly.
Robo-brothels appeared. Men could try out a doll for an hour at a time, which led to increased sales of personal models. Our shit tasks were obliterated overnight. Women with boyfriends and husbands were now watching keenly for the first sign of robo-infidelity. And it began happening in a tsunami.
Some of us tried to compromise, living with a man and his doll. In every case, it ended with the woman being marginalized, pushed away, and men preferred uncomplicated sex with machines, especially when those machines were programmed to tell them how wonderful they were.
Lawsuits were next. A bill of rights for machines died. Later, it was discovered that many of the lawmakers had been gifted Erosyths during the debates. As more lawmakers found bliss in the thighs of dolls, legislation against robo-waifus died ingloriously.
And so… culture changed. Left with robots or nothing at all, some women made compromises that would have horrified their mothers and grandmothers.
***
With a long groan, his cock twitched, pulsing in my throat. Even though stars were swimming in my vision, I kept sucking, feeling blackness seeping into me. Thick, burning hot loads shot down my throat. I swallowed hungrily. I’d gotten him off before the doll had a chance.
Both of his hands found my hair, and he rocked my face against him hard. I choked, drooled, and slobbered, coughing up bubbles of jizz as he finished inside me. He leaned back in his recliner, tablet tossed aside in ecstasy. I was proud that I’d made him cum. Cum and drool dripped off my face in sticky strands as I cleaned him with my tongue, lapping up all the mess as was expected.
He’d want to fuck again later, in bed. I’d be there before he could turn on the doll. If I was lucky, if I begged, told him how good it felt, how amazing he was, and stuck my ass up in the air and face down in the sheets, just maybe he’d even fuck my pussy. I’d been doing Kegels nonstop for weeks, in the unrealistic hope that I could be tighter than the doll in the closet. He’d slap my ass, call me degrading names, tell me I wasn’t good for anything but being fucked like a whore, and I’d take all of it. I’d even let him tie me up or be shared with his friends. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do.
At least I was one of the few women with a real man.