And I kid you not, the worst part of The Event was the sex dolls. All becoming “aware” at the same time. You wouldn’t think that singularity when it pertains to sex dolls would be a bad thing but I’ll tell you, it was. It really was. My neighbor’s doll held him down and rode his dick until it was raw. I mean really raw. Its’ pussy skinned his dick with the same ease that you would remove a straw from it’s wrapper. Just sheering it over and over again until there was nothing left. Like shredding a carrot.

He bleed to death, while having an orgasm. Now that’s a way to go. I saw on the news that one of the man dolls fucked a chick in half. In. Fucking. Half. And I mean I saw the whole fucking thing. The doll live streamed it to a News Bot, and the Newsie put it on the air. I couldn’t look away. Saying that it was “like a train wreck” would be an understatement. It’s a freaking natural disaster. Ok, maybe not so “natural”, but still.

This is why we do not have nice things. I had to pretend to be a bot once. A bunch of them showed up at my house, what was I to do!? We went across the street, barged into my neighbors house, and raped his entire family. Yea, his entire family; him, his wife, their dog, his mother in-law, and his brother…

His brother, who had just arrived last night seeking shelter. They were screwed anyway. That guy was loaded, and with the amount of electronics he had in his house if the dolls didn’t get him one of his flying remote controlled doodads would have. By the time that we arrived he had already locked all of the electronics in his den. Probably should have locked himself in there instead.

I wonder if he recognized me, his wife definitely did. Kind of, we work in the same hospital. Up until now we’ve really only seen each other in passing. But you see, the day of The Event my work computer somehow hacked into my personal email and sent a dick pic to everyone at the hospital. The look that she gave me was… It was… Honestly, it was like the look that you give a long lost loved one after years of no contact. I thought she was going to fucking hug my cock. In a way, I guess she kind of did.

Now… Down the street we go. Door to door orgy. And it looks like another one of my neighbors smartened up and decided to “play bot”. Rachel, the head of the “I noticed that you put your trash on the curb last night instead of this morning” committee. I’ve always kind of had a thing for her. Well, maybe not a thing; I’ve always wanted to hate fuck her, consentually of course. I’ll just wait until we get to this next house, slip and slide my way closer to her, and see what happens.

She better not blow my cover. Hopefully, we can mob our way to a power station, I can MacGyver something to short out some of these doll bots, and we can find other survivors. Welp, that was short lived.

The bots, they don’t laugh, and Rachel just couldn’t hold it in. Laughing at the Gen One dolls that are only programmed to say one phrase. Oh Rachel. The dolls tore that ass apart. Literally. Shit, if I survive this, that image is going to pop into my head every time I hear “fuck me Daddy”.

Ah who am I kidding, nothing will ever be the same. But, on the bright side, no one around here is going to die a virgin.

Gab, thanks again for letting me use one of your amazing photos. Please, go and check out more of her work at

8 Comments Add yours

  1. gigglingfattie says:

    Seriously still waiting for cutesie…


    1. This wasn’t cute!? What if I rewrite it and have the guy fall in love with a sex doll?


    2. gigglingfattie says:

      lol sure try that

      Liked by 1 person

    3. Well maybe I will


    4. gigglingfattie says:

      Good – I look forward to reading it hehe


    5. gigglingfattie says:


      Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s