The next song after Depeche Mode was Nine Inch Nail's Hole. Chad realized that this wasn't a radio station, it was a playlist feed from Snake's iPod. Oh, this sucked, they were being saved to Chad's memory, and it wasn't real time. No, they were all about sex, domination and submission. Then a videostream of Snake masturbating and blowing his load on the camera. It was on a loop. Chad had no way of knowing that Snake had gone to bed, he was left listening to the looped soundtrack accompanied by a 33 second vid of Snake jerking off. Chad found himself mesmerized by the music and the rhythm and Snake's gorgeous cock.
"Wakey, wakey, pornbot," said Jason resetting Chad's tuner.
"Uh, oh, uh, oh, thank you. Master," panted Chad.
"Heh, heh, eight hours straight of my jerkoff tape seems to have put you into the right mood, Chad. Too bad you won't be ready for use until Monday or Tuesday. How do you feel this morning?"
"C-c-cold, I think that Sanchez is putting the primer on me. My body had been so sore, but this feels cold, and good. I -uh, Um, I'm empty, he took all my innards out, I think? Will I be human again, Mr. Snake, sir?"
"What's your name?"
"Uh, um, PornoRide?" Chad asked uncertainly.
"Well, it looks like the rename feature worked properly. Though I think I can come up with a better designation for you? Do you have any suggestions?"
Chad thought about designations. He answered, "34". He didn't know why, but Jason did and guffawed. That had been Chad's jersey number.