I still remember the neon glow of the Data Dungeon, where the Chrome-Bitches held their infamous Upgrade Auction. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and pheromones as I, a prized breeder, was led to the auction block. The crowd of tech-enhanced women buzzed with anticipation, their chrome implants gleaming under the pulsing lights. I’d heard stories about these auctions - how they traded orgasms for upgrades, how they measured pleasure in precise data points. But nothing could have prepared me for the reality of it all.
The bidding started slow, with smaller upgrades being offered in exchange for basic pleasures. But as the night wore on, the stakes grew higher. A particularly eager bidder, her arms adorned with intricate circuit patterns, offered a full neural interface upgrade in exchange for a night of unrestricted access. Another, with glowing blue eyes, promised a set of advanced sensory enhancers for just a few hours of intimate service. The Chrome-Bitches’ leader, a towering figure with chrome-plated limbs, watched it all with calculating interest, her own arousal evident in the way her systems hummed with increasing intensity.
As the auction reached its climax, I found myself being sold to the highest bidder - a mysterious figure known only as ‘The Archivist.’ Her collection of upgrades was legendary, and her reputation for extracting every last drop of pleasure from her breeders was well-known. As she claimed her prize, I couldn’t help but wonder what new experiences awaited me in her data-filled domain. The Chrome-Bitches’ Upgrade Auction had changed me forever, adding another chapter to my ongoing story of survival in this breed-or-die world.
>Soulkyn