The young woman stands staring, intently, academically, scratching quill to parchment, diligently recording what she sees, chewing on the end of the quill as she glanced at them silently, head tilted in deep thought, scribbling notes as her metal creation ravages her mother like a mechanical beast.
"Oh GODS!" The mother quivers, panting between words. "The thrust p-p-power… level… is… a bit high. We need… oh …hnnnnngh… yes, yes just… oh! We need more… dampers in the hips… they're clicking."
"Ok, ok. Got it. How's his thrust vectoring? Do we need to add more pulse-crystals?"
"Mmmhmmm." the mother moans. "It's… peeeeerfect!"
The young woman cackles proudly as she saunteres off, mumbling to herself excitedly as she pours over her notes.
He turns his attention back to the squealing silver-haired goddess he holds in his mechanical hands.
"B-bed…" she cries through clenched teeth.
He turns toward the bed while his perfectly placed thrusts elicit whimpers of pleasure with each flick of his hips. As he gently lowers her onto the soft, silk sheets, she immediately settles onto all fours, sinks her face into the mattress and arches her backside up toward him.
"Keep power-levels at sixty-percent, use some variations in the thrust pattern… and make sure you touch me." she mutters through a delirious grin.
He complies. Eagerly.
The systems in his mind spring to life. Instructions and protocols flood his brain as bizarre magics weave through the intricate circuitries of his new, mechanical body. More messages pop up in his vision, showing a menagerie of stats and gauges.
As he moves, the numbers in his mind move with him.
He adjusts the strength of his thrusts.
[Thrust Power Level: 61%]
He tweaks the angle of his entry.
[Thrust Vector 12 initiated]
He brushes his fingers reverently across her naked back.
[Sensual Touch Lv.1 activated]
He wonders, to himself, what exactly he had become while working magical movements with his hips as the mother lay quiet, whimpering softly as waves of pleasure pulse through her body. Some kind of machine, he contends, gripping her cheeks as he digs even deeper. Built for pleasure, he concludes as he lifts a leg onto the bed to initiate Thrust Vector 12.
The mother bucks and quivers around his length, moaning and groaning as inch after pulsating inch plunders her depths so deeply it seems to dig into diaphragm.
This must be in heaven, he thinks to himself as he continues pumping pleasantly, the woman's breath caught somewhere between her throat and her thighs, her body entirely at the mercy of his hips as they rumble through three fore thrust vectors, divine metal pushing past any physical barriers her body still holds.
Mid-stroke, mid-moan, he takes a moment to browse through the system information overlaying his vision.
⌜ System Status:
Pleasure Power Lv: 001
Pleasure Points: 12 / 500
Battery Level: 85%
Power Output: 82%
Vibration Output: 56%
Structural Integrity: 96% ⸥
Beneath the stats was another grid, he scrolls through its content with a flick of his eyes.
⌜ Skills / Abilities:
Thrust Lv. 1
Sensual Touch Lv. 1⸥
[All Systems Running Optimally]
[User Happiness Index: 81%]
A sex-bot that can level up, he ponders mid-pump, wondering how much better this new life could possibly get.
Two hours of intense testing and experimentation ends with the mother semi-conscious and his neural-circuits absolutely blown by the powers of pleasure he held in his new body. As the woman lay splayed out naked on the bed, twitching, sweaty and snoring tenderly, he carefully considers his options.
He could run. He thinks. Somehow he knew he had the strength to rip through the stone walls around without even scratching a screw, if he wanted to.
But gazing back at the naked woman who had just shown him glimpses of nirvana, dozen of times over the course of two hours, he felt he should stay. Probably.
He could listen, learn and slowly figure out where the hell he was.
And what he was.
And why he was what he was.
And how his new body even worked.
How metal plating felt more like skin, how he could feel the warmth of her body through ferrous fingers, how his glowing, metal dick somehow carried more sensation than the flesh and blood that he carried between legs in his previous life.
He has the patience.
He has the resolve.
And he has the body of a mechanical sex-god, apparently.
And if this new life requires him to screw the brains out of the sexiest thing he has ever seen on two legs, by the Gods, it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.
Over and over if the opportunity presented itself.
Content with his conclusions, he crawls out of the bed and softly clunks through the room, poking and prodding at the various vials and strange instruments that line the many shelves. Whispers of sexual frustration and erotic desperation clearly evident in the shapes and structures of the items around him.
Phalluses abound in every shape, size and construction. Crude carvings of intimate body parts displayed like artwork, and notes drawn with the delicate details of complex sexual positions and the biological functions they result in.
He pages through a thick, dusty tome. The words and symbols mean little to him, but the images all focus on the same subject matter: Sex. Sex and more sex.
He scratches at his metal scalp, still getting used to the feeling of his new body. Trying to urge his neural-circuits into making sense of his situation.
"Are… are you thinking?!" the young woman's voice suddenly creeps up from behind him.
He flinches with a startled beep.
"MOTHER'S MERCY! YOU ARE!!" she shrieks. "Do you understand me? Like… really understand me?"
He turns to her, scratches the side of his faceplate and answers with a small nod.
Her eyes widen as her mouth falls open into a shriek of unrelenting joy, nearly knocking him off his feet as he stumbles back in shock.
Her naked mother bolts out of the bed, her face glaring and her hands engulfed in flickering, magical flames.
"TROLL!? GOBLINS!?" she shouts, scanning the room for danger. "WHERE!?"
"He's alive! He's really alive!" The young woman squeals as she runs up to him, staring deep into his golden eye-cameras.
"What the hell do you mean, Vuvi?" the mother groans as the flames fizzle out along her arms and she crawls back into the bed. "Of course it's alive. He certainly pounded me half to death."
"No, Mother! I mean… really alive. Sentient. He's not just a simple construct. He's actually thinking!" she says, grinning from ear to ear.
"Oh no, Vuvela Blackthorn, please tell me you didn't!"
"I did! And it worked! And I'm a genius! A GENIUS!!!" she gushes, clenching her cheeks.
"That was a divine crystal!" her mother scowls. "The rarest in the realm!"