Just me and her now. Well, just me.
I gaze into her steel blue eyes to try and see her soul. I see... nothing.
She blinks once.
I slap her hard across her left cheek with the palm of my right hand.
She sways and nearly over balances onto the bed.
It feels good to hit her. I like hitting and brutalising females - it's the only thing that really turns me on. I guess I'm a real nasty cunt.
She brings her hand up to her face to massage her cheek bone. I would like to believe it really stung.
"Why did you do that?" She appears stunned, bewildered. And sounds hurt.
"Because I can... you bitch.. you fucking bitch!"
I can feel the fury now.
I smash my right fist into her nose. I feel the bone structure just under her flesh crumple with a satisfying 'crunch'.
She screams and falls back upon the mattress bringing her arms up to her face.
I watch the scarlet ooze through her fingers and launch myself at her.
On top of her now she writhes and screams and attempts to makes a fight of it. But I know I will prevail.
"You fucking bastard," she screams.
Good. Very good.
I grab hold of both her arms and force them behind her blonde head and I can see that her nose is busted and has been dislocated. She's still pretty after a fashion, but not for long.
I head butt her in the nose and more blood spurts out. Oh such fun!
I punch her in the jaw and she emits a low animal groan as her bare tanned arms flail.
"Stay still bitch... if you want to live."
I laugh at that one.
I rip off her skimpy sleeveless top to reveal small white breasts with pert nipples - delicious and perfect, just what I crave.
I punch her hard in her stomach. She grunts and doubles up pleading for me to stop - exquisite, really exquisite.
I'm so hard it hurts now.
I pull my trousers and pants down before throwing my shirt off.
Panting and broken on the bed she regards me through desperate and terrified eyes as I desire all women to see me: the woman hating cunt.
I can't resist beating her one more time. With a whirlwind of fists I smash her face and pound her body. I watch the crimson patches bloom upon her once perfect skin.
I pull her mini skirt off before tearing off her black knickers, her thighs visibly trembling.
Naked on the bed I force myself into her and she knows not to resist.
I thrust hard into her cunt, like a spear penetrating flesh.
She cries out in pain, in anguish.
God, this is good, so good.
I climax like I have never climaxed before and I feel my spunk shoot out.
I slump down on top of her. And nearly thank her...
There is a tentative knock on the door.
But I have no need to worry.
It takes me less than a minute to put on my clothes and straighten myself.
I feel good, really fucking good.
A muffled male voice behind the door enquires as to whether everything is okay.
I catch on the handle and swing open the door - I care not that they can see her naked, gasping and heaving upon the mattress.
Two men in suits with folded arms face me.
"How was it, I mean she, sir?"
"Fucking brilliant, fucking brilliant. Just like the real thing, I mean, I could imagine it being just like the real thing, maybe better. Not that I have done the real thing. of course."
The two men in suits chuckle.
"So... how much do you want for her?"
There's a pause and then one of them says: "We can do you a contract for five thousand a month."
It's a lot, a lot of dosh.
The man in the suit adds: "Well... they're not cheap... we have to pick them up... repair them... re-program... recharge... deliver... that's the cheapest we can do."
He doesn't want to negotiate - I understand.
"It's fine... I'll sign on the dotted... you don't do a shares option... these are really going to take off."
He passes me the contract and a pen.
I sign it.
"Thank you, sir... you won't regret doing business with the Fetish Android Corporation of Korea... or FACK for short."
We all grin at that one.
Before I go I say to him: "I bet that's your biggest seller?"
"No, funny enough, it's not," the lead suit says.
"Pray tell me, what could outsell a pretty blonde who takes a beating?"
"You're not going to believe this, Sir... really you're not."
"It's... it's the Gordon Brown model... in fact they come back more battered than any of them... it's the ultimate irony... kind of popular... for being unpopular."
"But he hasn't been Prime Minister for more than twenty years now... unbelievable."
"Yes, Sir... unbelievable..."