In the grim cyberpunk future, there's no limit to cybernetic enhancement. Name an organ, and you can replace it with cold metal, shiny and chrome. Sure, you could get a boring old womb transplant. But why would you do that when you could get a CyberWomb? Image running your fingers over the seam where the acrylic face meets your skin, your prosthetic arm reflecting the soft neon light within. Imagine syncing your lingerie's LEDs to it, colors gently pulsing in tandem as you flirt with your girlfriend in the lobby of the pay-by-the-hour hotel, the empty vessel within you on display, an invitation, an invocation.

Imagine getting slammed up against the clear plex wall of the hotel room, your every move visible to passerby, your moans barely muffled, the neon glow becoming muted as her cock fills your womb with cum. You could have paid extra to make the room's contents private, but you both know it's better this way. That you love being shown off. Which is why, as she clips the leash to the ring embedded in your sternum, you give only the thin veneer of resistance. As the room chimes that your time is up, she yanks on the lead, pulling you to your feet, forcing you to follow. Forcing you to walk alongside her in the busy street, her hand toying with the chain as she pulls you along, your womb filled to the brim, your thighs slick with fluid.

Even if you hadn't given her the override to your arms, even if you weren't forced to keep them clasped behind your back...you wouldn't have hidden what it contained. The stares, the thrill of it...that only made it better. You smiled, and swayed your hips a little more, making it slosh around. God, you loved this.

[END]