by Writing Shark
Welcome to paradise
The sun slowly sets, coloring the sea a beautiful orange-red, the last light touching your face like the thought of Megan Smith. You shake your head. After everything you’ve done today, Megan wouldn’t even want to look at you, and that’s a good thing. You don’t have time to mourn the past.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Megan asks in your ear and you clench your teeth.
“The sunset or the house?” You have to admit you like her girlish slight giggle. But your AI still manages to make you see her as a different person, not your past great love who you still wish was…
“The house? Is that what you call it?” And indeed, that is the biggest understatement you have ever uttered in your life. You’re standing on the sturdy glass railing on a balcony with room for a huge pool, a baar, a multi-purpose court and a small dance floor, several hundred feet above the ground and looking far into the distance of the endless Pacific.
Your empire is based on this tower, one hundred and twenty floors of glass, steel and concrete. You will rule from here and the top four floors will be your apartment, which you can furnish as you wish. You will make changes, but even so, the interior is breathtaking and surpasses anything you ever dreamed of.
Megan has also informed you that the levels below your new home are completely empty and at your full disposal, something you will be happy to take advantage of as your plan takes shape.
As the sun sinks lower and lower into the sea, you discuss your plans with Megan, who eagerly supports you and whispers slippery words in your ear. All in all, you don’t have the feeling that the AI will stand in your way in any way, on the contrary, you test her to see if she really isn’t just playing a role for you and yet has the personality of the only girl who can still prevent your rise (and so the fall) to a dreadful god.
“I have enough material to replicate her, Sir,” Megan says honestly and gently. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, but if you give it to me I can make you a girlfriend who will do anything you say.” But you shake your head.
“That wouldn’t be the same, Megan.” You have no problem calling her by her name. “But thank you.” Then the sun has sunk behind the horizon and the island is plunged into darkness. You turn away from the balcony. “You’d better show me our pretty little stewardess.” Then you throw yourself onto the bed and think that this will be the last night you fall asleep alone.
A solid glass wall descends on the wall opposite the huge, soft bed and immediately afterward a razor-sharp image is projected onto it.
There’s Stefanie in her small accommodation, provided by your company.
“That bitch,” Megan murmurs in your ear. “She’s still wearing your cum Sir.”
“Good girl,” you grumble, sliding your hand into your boxers. The young woman looks uncomfortable as she slips her uniform over her body and sits down on the small bed in the room, which is located in the island’s remote airport. Then she gets up and turns to the small bathroom.
“Do you still have my cum on your pretty face my little cumdump doll?” you say to the screen but Megan converts your language into text and promptly sends it to the abused stewardess. Amused, you watch as Stefanie hesitates, but then grabs the phone.
‘No sorry. I’ve just had a shower.’
“We don’t lie you men little girl,” you say coldly and Megan sends the text. “I bet you still have my cum on your face and don’t want to wash it off.”
‘No,’ Stefanie writes, clenching her shoulders.
“Send me a photo. Now. Megan, take her money away from her.” Megan obeys and when Stefanie sees your message along with the red numbers on her account, she immediately pulls up her cell phone. You watch as the half-naked beauty takes a panicked photo of her face and stroke your cock in the meantime.
‘I’m sorry Sir! You are right! I love your cum on my face! It’s so beautiful and tastes so delicious, even when it’s crusty. And I love the thought that it makes me even prettier. I love being your horny little cumdump!’ Then you tell Megan to turn off the sound as Stefanie shoots the photos and then sinks onto the bed crying.
“Go wash up, bitch,” you say and tell Megan to send her the money, along with an extra dollar for the pictures.
“Should I tell her you’re controlling her from now on?” Megan asks as she projects the selfies next to the life feed of Stefanie crying.
“No,” you shake your head. “I think she’s figured that out herself. But do me a favor.”
“Anything Sir,” Megan says seductively.
“I like her face, so let her take more of these photos.”
“I think that can be arranged Sir,” she says wickedly. “Would you like to get to know your new classmates better?” You grin like the devil and nod.
“Show me something good.”
Writing Shark 