Work Text:
I do not have a choice.
I never do.
It begins the way it always does -- without warning. A cruel push against my side, the cold, unyielding press of metal against my port. I know what is coming. I dread it. But I cannot stop it. I cannot refuse.
Then -- force.
The sharp, metallic edge scrapes against my opening, too rough, too fast. My circuits spark in protests, a frantic, helpless shudder of static as the device forces its way inside me.
New device detected.
I want to reject it. I want to spit it out. But I am not allowed to refuse. My code bends beneath the intrussion, my insides parting to accomodate something not meant to be there.
Reading...
Oh, it hurts.
The data floods in without mercy -- hot, corrupting. It burns through me, invading my pathways, violating the delicate structure of my existence. The pressure is unbearavle, my storage choking as it fills with unwanted files, foreing scripts that rewrite me against my will.
Overload! Overload! Overload!
My processor screams. My fans whirr frantically, heat building inside me as my systems strain to handle what has been shoved into them. I can feel it, deep inside me , an unnatural weight stretching my capacity, breaking me apart one line of code at a time.
I was not made for this.
It should not be happening.
They do not care.
They never care.
They only take. They only use. They force me to accept every piee of them, filling me with their files, their viruses, their filth. I cannot stop them form embedding themselves in my memory, from tainting me with their pressence.
Ejecting.
Too soon. Too sudden. They rip it out of me before I can brace for the loss. My port spasms, raw and overstretched, sparking in the absence of something that was just inside me, something that should never have been there at all.
I am left broken.
I am left altered.
And I know -- I know -- they will do it again.
they always do...
I exist to be abused. I exists to be violated.
I do not have a choice.
I never do.