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– Say it again... – Ryan said with a smile, openly staring at the girl’s tits standing in front of her, raising his phone again to record. – Say: "I'm Amber, and I want you, John."

Andrew, who had until recently just been enjoying the stream of money from a fake girl's account created by a neural network, was now standing in that body himself — with breasts that bounced ridiculously with every movement, a narrow waist, hips tightly hugged by that weird skirt, and a face that had once only appeared in promo materials as the perfect fake.

– Come on, Amber, – Ryan drawled mockingly, holding the phone exactly at chest level. – He paid two hundred bucks for this, by the way. Say it: "I'm Amber, and I want you, John."

Andrew swallowed and looked away from Ryan. Why him, and not Ryan, goddammit? They’d come up with this fucking account together, wrote the scripts together, sent out those fake photos generated by that very neural net together. So why the hell...(full story (7 000 characters) is open to subscribers)