The End - My Life as a Gimp

There is really nothing left to tell, though I’m just now thinking this story to myself. The suit controls what I can say and punishes me if I disobey whoever is using me today.

I was taken to a warehouse and stored with the other gimp. I’m fed once a day, a very bland gruel, and every morning I’m taken to some location in the city.

Sometimes I’m cleaning roads, sometimes I’m cleaning houses, sometimes I’m there just a fuck station in the park for the pets and masters of the city. Sometimes I’m used by a citizen for a week or so just living at their house.

Being good is rewarded, being bad is severely punished. At night the suit shows us porn to keep us **** and horny. If I’m a good gimp I get to cum every month or so on top of if my daily ‘user’ chooses to let me cum.

I don’t know how long it has been anymore.

I have seen the Doctor I met previously again. I’ve stood in his office and helped him take care of pets. He doesn’t know it’s me, there is no identification on any of our suits. Only we and the software know our numbers.

I’ve also seen the Master and Dog who brought me to the Vet. Some days I want to hurt them for making me like this, of course the suit watches any sign of disobedience and punishes me, other times I want to thank them. The suit is good at programming my mind to obey.

But from here till the day, I die I’m just a gimp here. A Drone. And the technology here means I’ll have centuries of life before I even start to show old age. A long life as a gimp drone.