Exactly what you asked for

You frown, light from the hallway casting a glare on the screen. You can't see it properly like this! You don't question how happy you feel when the door closes solidly, cutting off the glare.

Something tells your subconscious to bend over and present yourself. The mechanical whirring behind you doesn't faze you in the slightest, your eyes glued to the screen. Words imprint themselves on your brain, instructing you.

"Accept."

"Enjoy."

"Get fucked."

"Passive."

"Machines are sexy."

"Nothing gives me pleasure like a machine."

"If I see a robot that can fuck, I immediately prepare to accept it in any of my holes."

You scream in elation, feeling a dildo of some sort **** itself into your cunt with no hesitation. It's insistence is mechanical, unyielding. You can't put forth any resistance, whether you want to or not-- which you most certainly do not. Just like the illegally brief flashes said, you want any fuck-bot to take you immediately. This really is the perfect reward after that survey.

The pace begins slowly, gently pressing in and out, loosening your slit in preparation for what is to come. You moan and groan, languidly thrusting with the device filling you so completely. You have never been this stuffed. Your eyes try to roll, but are to **** to keep the instructing screen in view. It can't help you if you can't see it, after all.

After about minute and a half, the machine gradually picks up the pace. Within thirty seconds, the robotic dildo is slamming into you powerfully with exact precision. Your mind goes blank as it ruthlessly batters your pussy, your eyes maintaining contact with the screen.

The messages began scrolling at a blinding pace, not so much as a millisecond going by without instructions imprinting themselves upon your subconscious.

The longer it goes on, the more your mind warps. Why would someone ever have sex with a person when robots are so perfect? Do they have robots with multiple cocks? Will they let more machines fuck you if you keep doing well here?

Without warning, you cum explosively, writhing on the machine as it continues to pound you, not so much as slowing down. Your orgasm drags on because of it, and, by the time the robotic cock retracts, you feel like you've squirted so much fluid that you're seriously dehydrated. You finally disconnect from the screen, collapsing to the floor as the robot wheels out of the room once more.