The masturbation machine of Sandra Vilaroel

Every day after her job, Sandra Vilaroel ran to her house to get her fleshh lost in strange games or dream:

in private cabinet she abandoned her mouth, vulva, tits and anus to a structure of teledildonics connected to her computer, which consisted of a myriad of consoladores, rubber penetrators and pneumatic cocks joined to a tubularly shaped cyborg, all automatically controlled by a megaprogram called "the masturbation machine", that provided her a maremagnum of furious physical delights that left her perplex.

No one in the world remotely guessed the long sessions of hot, and at times extreme and brutal sex that Sandra Vilaroel enjoyed in the deepest secrecy of her flat, located in *** **** Street, 26, 6th floor "A"; nobody... notwithstanding her neighbors murmured things about Vilaroel, things.
And during their conversations, secretly they called her names, like conchuda, yegua, trola, hija de puta, turra, reventada or tragaleche.

Sandra Vilaroel was affected by nympholabial furores and agalmatophilia, she just couldn't wait to get home and get 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 rubber cocks anally and vaginally inserted, destroying her completely to the exhaustion, and the software that controlled "the masturbation machine" was precise and rhythmical, pumping her mercilessly, inflating her cunt with an authentical platoon of synthetic dicks replete of milk, ready to explode into her most recondite holes, overflowing all over the Vilaroel's humanity liters of artificial semen, while, in general and at that stage of the game, she was unconscious on the floor.

The prodigious masturbation machine of Sandra Vilaroel, seen from certain distance, looked like a giant, shiny and silvery octopus of metal, with every tentacle ending in an enormous penis, Vilaroel never washed the tips of those rubber cocks, she wanted them all stained and dirty, since the smell of the coagulated artificial cum mixed with the dry juices of her twat and the saliva provoked a bestial arousal in her body, which started with a massive erection of her nipples and wild vaginal contractions:
every morning she appeared at the office: strangely, and despite the excessiveness of sex received, she didn't look tired in the least... none of her workmates imagined how much Sandra Vilaroel was fucked by her cybernetic devices every evening and night, most of times surpassing the barrier of the 100 orgasms a day, losing consciousness and standing up to be fucked again by the tentacular machine.
One of the crucial arms of this apparatus of fucking was the digiclit, sort of plastic fat finger which ending in a juicy tongue, like a viper of pleasure, licked the clitoris in spasmodic swirls chaining multiorgasmic series in Vilaroel... but the demanding delights of this máquina blanda submersed Sandra Vilaroel in a real madness in the end, a sexual delirium that made her abandon everything, and dedicate her life only to this pleasuremachine[sic].

Did her mind change?

No-one could know if somewhere along the road her brain was altered by the erotomania, not even her... and in fact, Sandra Vilaroel didn't even know her own mind, life or real condition, she just was a toy to be copulated by the ardor of the teledildonics connected to her computer, which consisted of a myriad of consoladores, rubber penetrators and pneumatic cocks.

The following correlation of events it's obscure, and the conclusions -all doubtful- arrive from the inference and the speculation.
Sandra Vilaroel never was seen again at the office, or nowhere:




in the sunny month of May, weeks after her disappearance, 10 robust arms tear down the door of *** **** Street, 26, 6th floor "A"
from certain distance at the corridor neighbors observe the 5 cops walking into the silent flat, which seems to be empty
a hand opens the door of a room, while the silhouette of a female shaped silvery machine connected to 3 burned computers by means of 1000 chaotic cords starts to be disguised in the dark.