More than she can handle

Clarissa is now standing in an empty hallway, and it is mostly dark save for the dim light emanating from the end of the corridor. The walls are made of bare bricks, and the ceiling is exposed pipes. She can hear muffled moans coming from somewhere deeper inside the building, so she follows the direction from where the sound came. There are several doors lining up the entire length of the hallway, and Clarissa kept walking until she found the source of the noises behind one of those same doors. The door is an old fashioned wooden door, with a handle and a key hole instead of being electronic. Clarissa slowly turns the knob and opens the door slightly to take a peek. She immediately gasps softly, her eyes widening in shock.

It's a small room as dim as the corridor, with just one single bulb hanging from the ceiling. Inside, there are ten naked people on the couches and beds, writhing and tangled in various positions. All of them are one male, one female pairs. It is obvious that they are having sex, but what's not immediately obvious is the fact that some of them are not people at all. Among them, Clarissa can confidently say that there are two Gynoids among them, but there is a chance the other three females she sees are Gynoids as well, just more human-like than the other two. She can't be completely sure since it's too dark.

"What the fuck?" she blurts out, covering her mouth to muffle her voice, "how rich is the owner this place?"

Gynoids are very expensive pieces of tech. To afford not one, but five of them? It's still far cheaper to just get human prostitutes. Unless these men specifically prefer a Gynoid over real people, it just doesn't make sense financially. They don't look like they are part of the wealthy crowd either, which makes everything even more bizarre. Moreover, it doesn't seem like the droids were having that much fun either. Cries of denials mixed with orgasmic moans can be heard coming from most of them.

"Huh... I thought they would be more enthusiastic or something. I thought that's their main selling point," Clarissa observes as she continues to watch, "in any case, it doesn't seem like that girl is here, so-"

Her train of thoughts is cut off when her body suddenly tenses up as pain shoots throughout her system, rendering her unable to move. Someone has come up from behind and stuck a stun gun on her nape. As she collapses to the floor, Clarissa's last thought is that she got careless. She lets her guard down for just one moment, and it is costing her dearly. Everything soon goes black for the mercenary.

Clarissa comes to some time later, blinking rapidly as she tries to regain her bearings. Slowly, her eyes adjust to her surroundings, and she finds herself in a well-lit room. It's a small room, with white tiles and white ceramic walls. There's a single door and a wide mirror beside it, quite possibly a one-way mirror. Clarissa deduces that she's inside an observation or interrogation room.

But before that, Clarissa already noticed that she's being strapped onto some sort of huge chair, with both of her wrists and ankles bound tightly by leather belts. She's also stark naked, with nothing covering her privates. Finally, she can see a large helmet-like device hovering above her head. When she looks to her side, she sees a similar chair and device, hooked to the same computer.

"W-what is this?" Clarissa says hoarsely, her throat feels dry and itchy, "where am I?"

Before Clarissa can ponder further, the sole automatic door to the room suddenly opens with a loud noise, startling Clarissa. A moment later, a man in his late thirties enters the room. He's tall and skinny, with short blonde hair and stubble barely visible on his chin. A pair of hazel eyes behind a pair of glasses are staring directly at Clarissa as he walks closer. He is dressed in a white lab coat over his equally white shirt and pastel trousers. Despite his rather unassuming apparel, he carries himself like someone who has authority over other people.

"Oh, you're awake," he said without much emotion on his voice, "how do you feel right now? Any after effect from the stun gun?"

The man's question doesn't betray any concern over her well being, he sounds like he is conducting some clinical trials or something. He picks up a pen and clipboard, and proceeds to record some notes as he keeps his eyes on her.

"F-fuck you," Clarissa answers, "you kidnapped me! Let me go!"

She struggles in her bonds, hoping that the straps will somehow magically come loose. It doesn't. The man just stares at her for a few seconds before sighing.

"It's not exactly **** if you're the one snooping around and get caught"

"Guh..." Clarissa curses inside, the man is right about that, "okay fine! I'm sorry, I got curious so I followed a man who **** a woman against her will. I didn't expect to see some orgy instead, with Gynoids nonetheless! Can you please let me go? I won't tell anyone about what I saw"

The man shakes his head, "sorry, but we can't let you go, even if that's all you saw. You are going to be my test subject"

"Test subject? You can't do this to me!" Clarissa shouts angrily, "who even are you?"

"Ah right, let me introduce myself. My name is Dr. Francis Miller. I'm a scientist who works on neural technology, specializing on creating and modifying artificial consciousness and memory," the man starts monologuing, "my research has been funded by many corporations over the years, but the NTA has been especially helpful lately, and so my current research is directed towards their cause"

Clarissa has heard of NTA before. The Neural Transfer Advancement is a company that started a movement to push for the legalization of human-to-android transfer, which allows humans to upload their conscious into a digital space to live forever. Of course, the safe method to do so has not yet been discovered, not to mention the whole idea is still illegal. Some people have already attempted the transfer via cyberbrain implants, which has been banned after many accidents that resulted in brain **** for the unlucky victims.

"What's your research about?"

Clarissa asked, stalling for more time. Even as she's racking her brain for a solution to get out of her predicament, she is dreading her situation more and more by the seconds. However, Francis stared at her for a few moments before speaking again.

"You're more inquisitive than many of my previous test subjects, who either just scream profanity or broke down in a pathetic mess. You're not new to this, are you? Who sent you here?"

Clarissa winces inwardly, realizing that she has been careless. It seems her panic affects her mind more than she likes to admit. She keeps silent as Francis drills a hole through her head with his eyes, as denying the fact is just as damning.

"Well, it doesn't matter," Francis finally shrugs, "we'll know soon enough"

Dr. Francis walks towards the computer and starts typing while he continues to speak, "the girl you are trying to rescue is supposed to be my last test subject of the current project phase before I compile all of my research data and submit them to NTA. But since you decide to snoop around, you take priority"

The mad scientist then walks towards Clarissa and lowers the helmet-like device to cover head and eyes, leaving her vision completely dark inside something akin to a visor. The machine soon begins to whirs and beeps as it goes through its startup process. Clarissa grits her teeth, trying to be strong but deep inside she is scared to ****, not sure if she can go through this unscathed. She keeps trying to get off her restraint, her skin now burning from the friction but she doesn't care, it beats staying still like a lamb ready to be butchered.

"Don't worry, the process is quite quick... though it seemed to be extremely painful judging by the reactions from the previous subjects. Hmm... Maybe that's should be the focus upgrade for the next version of ReHost"

The helmet suddenly comes to life, illuminating Clarissa's face with a blue light. The screen that's situated on her eyes starts to light up, patterns and blinking lights that can make anyone dizzy appears right in front of her eyes. Unfortunately, that's just the start up sequence, a small taste of what's to come, and Clarissa knows this. She finally breaks down, and begs the doctor to stop.

"No, please! I'll do anything!" she said, her body trembling with fear, "please sto-"

Her words is cut abruptly by her own bloodcurdling scream, as pain suddenly courses through her entire body, but most specially her head. Her vision was bombarded by flashing images of colors and shapes that seems to be random and nonsensical, but it was definitely affecting her mind. Her breathing becomes ragged as tears start forming in the corner of her eyes. Clarissa cannot think, the notion of closing her eyes doesn't ever cross her brain, which is ravaged by electrifying sensation through the helmet. The computer monitor shows the progress bar, rising bit by bit, and there's no way to escape the **** she's subjected to. Clarissa thrashes against her restraints, screaming, feeling her consciousness fading and yet the pain never cease. This lasts for about ten minutes, before the machine starts to power down.

When the pain finally stops, Clarissa's whole body slumps weakly. The smell of urine wafts into Francis's nose as Clarissa's bladder involuntarily voided itself, but that didn't seem to bother him at all. The computer monitors beep and the LED indicator is shining green, telling Francis that the whole process has been completed.

"Another success," the doctor says, writing some more notes on his clipboard, "we can definitely call this version of ReHost as the best yet, though I think I really need to focus on the pain management for the next version"

Clarissa stays unmoving, being **** and unable to hear Francis. Her tongue lolls out of her lips and her nose bleeds a little, while her face is still scrunched up from the pain. Francis calls upon his assistants to take care of Clarissa, to clean up her body to prepare her for the next step.