Nuts and Bolts

You were a droid of sorts. Perhaps a synth would better describe you.

One could suggest that you could feel but others would state that you couldn’t. But the truth is you had a choice. This was much to the dismay of your makers. You were meant to be the John Doe in the eyes of your partners; a man that was styled to their wishes. Created to fulfill the naughty fetishes a married woman, a repressed partner might’ve ever had; to accompany the ever lonely lady a night of wild fantasy.

As such you were designed to be customizable-ly handsome. Though you choose what fit best in the end. That which made a you, that felt like you.

your human skin, a seamless synthetic material, hid an endless array of sex tools made by the Big John's Corporation.

But that was not important

You looked around, a Big John's junk yard of parts and pieces. There were others, many wandered the metal wasteland like zombies. Scrap metal without a soul. They were sex droids, prototypes and military service bot. They sang the same zapped words over and over again.

One day, they would eventually run out of power, deactivate and perhaps start again in lieu of their solar panels.

Yet it was to remain a grave yard for unneeded bots.

you were determined not to be like them

You hardened your synthetic fibers, using your strength to pull apart the gummy hides of robots. Tearing into their metal frames to find their batteries.

After all they were necessary to your survival,