My job at the Second National United Christian Bank is a particularly unique one. A few years ago, our R&D department came up with a particularly interesting discovery: a small device, about the size of a camera, that could scan and replicate anything placed in front of it!
Complicated electronics? Duplicated in a flash. Need an organ donor? Find someone with a working one and duplicate it! Fancy piece of art? Copied!
But the department kept this device on the down-low, and devised a scheme to appease the CEO’s most moralistic tendencies.
—
“Hi Sydney! Nice to meet you! I’m Bill, your representative from Second National United Christian Bank!” I said, as the hot, young bronze girl walked into my office, followed by her mother. “Hi Bill!” she replied.
“Do you know what it is we do here at Second Christian Bank, Sydney?”
“My mom told me, so I have a rough idea, but could you explain it to me?”
“Sure! So, as I’m sure you’re aware, your 18th birthday is today, and as such you, or your parents, need to start to pay your freedom tax. This can be quite costly. However, here at Second Christian, we want to promote good Christian values in the general populace! So, if you’re a good Christian, we’ll pay your freedom taxes for you up until the day you get married!”
“What exactly does that mean, ‘being a good Christian?’”
“Well,” I replied, “Generally it means following the commandments…”
– I then went off on a whole spiel about loving god and following the teachings in the bible before getting to the critical portion: “And, importantly, refrain from having premarital sex.”
“Ew! Yah, of course, I would never! I am saving myself for my husband on our wedding night!”
Perfect, I thought, this is just the kind of stuck up bitch we need in our program.
“Amazing! Then this will be especially simple for you! So to test that you have been a good Christian, we’ve developed this scanner that will check! It is really simple to use, just stand in front of it here, like so. Mom, you can even test it out” I say while passing her the ‘camera’. “Just take a picture there, and it’ll say if you’re a good christian or not!”
The mom pushed the shutter button:
* Click *
* buzzz *
* ding! *
“Yep, and you see there on the display, it shows you are a good christian!”
The mom was really impressed. I explained she was getting a free camera that she could use to take pictures of her daughter at all the important events in her life. Graduations, proms, big game days, any moment that the mother wanted to preserve (and confirm that her daughter was being a good christian) she could just pop out the camera and capture the moment!
I had them take a few test pictures to confirm everything was working, then sent them on their merry way.
—
That very same evening, the first scans and photos started coming in.
It was Sydney’s 18th birthday party, and there were lots of pictures her mom was taking. I chose one that showed Sydney’s full body: long black hair, tight sheer black top, silver sparkly skirt, and black high heels. She was truly a glowing sexy body, makeup all done up, prancing around as the queen of the crowd with her little birthday crown on. I’m sure that there were some boys at that party who were hoping they’d get lucky now that she was legal, but as she had assured me before walking out the door: “no boy is going to get into these pants until the day I am married!”
From this photo from our special camera, I started the printing process to create a replica. These full body replicas were cell-for-cell identical copies of the original. You couldn’t tell one from the other. They looked and acted just like the original person had at the moment the camera was snapped. I added a few additional items to the final export, and then sent the file off to our 3d replicator.
—
Sydney was feeling really groggy. Where was she? Hadn’t she been at her 18th birthday party? Where were her friends? She had just had her photo taken… Sydney started to look around. She was lying on a hard metal table, and something was cutting into her back. Shifting around, she realized it was the hard metal of handcuffs! Starting to freak out she tried to move more, and found that her ankles were cuffed, as well as a collar around her neck! They held her to the table as she struggled against them, and as she struggled, she heard the door to the room open behind her head.
“I’m glad to hear you’re awake Sydney! The first printing of a new scan subject is always very exciting!”
“What the fuck? You? From the bank? What are you doing to me? What is going on?”
Bill didn’t need to answer. It was clear what was going on. He was already placing his hand on her exposed thigh sitting there on the table, and moving it up towards the hem of her skirt. He pushed it up slowly, lifting the silver sparkly material to reveal a little thong, barely covering her clit. Quite the adult underwear for a girl on her 18th birthday.
Sydney at this point could tell what was about to happen. She was starting to panic, hyperventilating, and stammering all manner of incoherent thoughts: “Please sir don’t…” “My dad will hear about…” “I’ve never before…” “I swear, I’ve been a good christian…” I ignored her as I palmed my hand around her vagina and started applying pressure. She squirmed under my manipulation, wriggling away from both my hand and the heat that was building in her own body.
“See, the thing about all good christians” I said I pulled her thong down around her ankles “Is that to be a good christian” – I return my hand to her pubic mound – “one must be willing” – my fingers are now beginning to stroke and probe the openings of her insides – “to serve a god.” I pull my fingers out of her, now damp with her own moisture, clearly on display for her to see.
I lean over and press a button on the side of the table and mechanisms spring to life, moving her around from where she is harnessed, spreading her legs wide like at an OBGYN. I come around in front of her and, lifting up her skirt, place my now erect penis at her exposed vaginal opening. “And you, Sydney, are clearly excited to serve a god.” I then thrust inside of her, hard.
She screams as I break through her cherry with my fully erect penis. I plunge in one swift stroke inside of her as she arches her back and gasps in pain. Still fully clothed, I grasp her boobs through her sheer top and use them as handles to back out ever so slightly before thrusting in again. Sydney is crying now, shuddering and pulling against the restraints. I continue fucking her while she panics and attempts to come to terms with her situation. Tears stream down her face, messing up her makeup while I rip off her top to get a better grasp on her nipples. I pinch and twist them hard, the pain causing renewed screams, and clenching through her entire body. Her vaginal walls, already tight around my penis, clap down reflexivity as I burrow myself inside of her. Her juices (both pussy juice and blood) coat my cock as her tight tight opening is slowly ripped apart by my member.
After a few minutes inside of her, I can feel myself close to cumming. Grabbing her butt cheeks from under her skirt, I hold myself deep inside of her as I cum and fill her with my seed. After she is all full, I pull out, cum spilling out of her little pink vagina, her skirt is up around her waist, and the remains of her shirt are draped around her like torn wrapping paper. Her limbs are covered in sweat and tears and smeared mascara as she lies there, emotionally destroyed on the table. I press another button and the table returns to its original position, with her lying straight on her back.
I wheel the table over to our disposal center. The bank is always on the lookout for good scans that provide a thrilling and unique experience. I think Sydney’s scans we will be receiving over the next few years will go over very well with some of our unique clients. Testing the new scans is always a highlight of my job, but it is usually just as interesting to see what kind of perverted torture other superrich folks come up with. With a steady supply of freshly printed virgins, many of these men get incredibly creative with how they deflower, dominate, and destroy the young ladies they order from us.
Sydney is silently crying on the table even as I reach the disposal chute. Her eyes are closed, probably all for the better, and she still shudders every few seconds. I stroke her smooth breasts one last time and she jolts away from my touch. Ah well. I line the edge of the table up with the markings on the wall and then press a third button on the side of the table. The machine lifts up while the chute lid automatically opens. I can tell the restraints that were keeping Sydney tied to the table have come off as she starts screaming as she falls down the chute. We used to feed the bodies directly into a large shredding machine so that we could reuse the organic material to produce new scans, but the shredder kept jamming, so now Sydney will land in a small cage that doubles as a trash compactor. I press the button to activate the hydraulic press and walk away to return the table to the printing room as the machine lurches into action.