“M-Master…”
A trembling voice escaped him, thin and reedy, betraying the sheer terror and burgeoning anticipation that coiled within his chest.
The air in the room, already heavy with unspoken desires and illicit tension, seemed to thicken further with each ragged breath he took.
His voice, usually steady, now wavered precariously, a testament to the storm of emotions raging beneath his composed exterior.
Fear, a cold, clenching hand in his gut, fought a silent, desperate battle with a strange, burgeoning excitement – a thrill so profound and unexpected that it made his skin prickle with goosebumps.
He hadn’t noticed it, this nascent thrill, this almost imperceptible flutter of hope that lay hidden beneath layers of apprehension.
But it was there, a tiny spark waiting to ignite.
When he dared to call out to his Master, the name a fragile whisper on his lips, Master responded with a command that cut through the silence like a sharp blade.
It wasn’t a question, but an imperative, delivered with an authority that left no room for defiance.
“Take it off.”
A startled sound, a choked “Huh?” escaped him.
His mind, still reeling from the sheer audacity of the situation, struggled to process the directness of the order.
He must have looked utterly bewildered, for Master’s next words, though equally commanding, carried an edge of dry amusement, almost a challenge.
“What, you want me to do it for you?”
The implication hung in the air, a silent threat and a tantalizing promise.
His fingers, suddenly clumsy and unresponsive, fumbled with the buckle of his belt.
Nervousness, a palpable tremor running through his limbs, made the simple task impossible.
He missed, his hand swatting uselessly at the resistant metal.
It was a mere slip, a momentary lapse, yet Master’s patience, it seemed, was already wearing thin.
In one swift, almost violent motion, Master moved his hand away, his own rough fingers taking over the task.
There was no gentleness, no coaxing; just a forceful, almost brutal efficiency as the belt was uncinched and pulled free.
Then, as if to punish him for his hesitation, for his awkwardness, for perhaps even his very existence in this vulnerable state, Master leaned in.
A sharp, sudden pain erupted as teeth, shockingly, bit down hard on his half-erect nipple.
“Ugh!”
A gasp, raw and involuntary, tore from his throat.
He flinched violently, his body convulsing with the unexpected agony.
A sharp, stinging sensation lingered, the distinct imprint of teeth on tender flesh.
He had braced himself for a slow, agonizing pleasure, perhaps a light, exploratory lick, a gentle testing of boundaries.
Instead, Master’s mouth had closed around his nipple, sucking hard, almost savagely, then grinding down, gnawing with teeth that seemed far too sharp, far too insistent.
“It hurts…!” he whimpered, a desperate plea for reprieve, for mercy, for anything to alleviate the fierce pressure.
Master’s response was a low, almost contemptuous chuckle, laced with an undeniable thread of knowing amusement.
“For someone who says it hurts, this part’s standing up, isn’t it?”
A jolt, both electric and humiliating, shot through him as Master’s hand descended, tightly gripping the sensitive flesh between his legs.
“Hick!” he yelped, a sound of pure surprise and burgeoning arousal.
His hips bucked instinctively, a desperate, automatic response to the sudden, intimate touch.
Master, without releasing his grip, began to rub vigorously between his legs, all while continuing to suck ferociously at his chest.
The dual assault, strong force applied from above and below, was overwhelming.
Moans, raw and involuntary, kept escaping his lips, even though he clenched his teeth, trying desperately to suppress them.
Each thrust, each suck, felt like a direct assault on his nervous system, stripping away his composure layer by agonizing layer.
“Ah-ooh, ack!”
His body began to twitch uncontrollably, a puppet on invisible strings, as his back arched, a bowstring pulled taut to its breaking point.
Every nerve ending seemed alight, screaming with a mixture of pain and an unbearable, burgeoning pleasure.
Master, who had already finished unfastening his belt and buckle with startling speed and efficiency, now pulled down his pants along with his underwear.
The sudden rush of cool air against his skin was both shocking and strangely liberating.
His rigidly erect lower body sprang out, a stark testament to the undeniable arousal that was now consuming him.
His already greatly aroused tip was visibly moist, glistening with pre-ejaculate, a clear sign of his body’s betrayal.
Master’s gaze, sharp and assessing, fell upon the smooth, vulnerable area between his legs.
A snicker, low and derisive, escaped him.
“You’ve got the same kind of thing down there as well,” Master said, his voice laced with an unmistakable taunt.
“Ugh…” he groaned, humiliation flushing his face a deep crimson.
The words, simple yet cutting, were clearly meant to mock him, to strip him of any remaining dignity.
He instinctively tried to close his legs, to hide himself, to reclaim some semblance of privacy, but Master’s hands were already there, spreading them even wider, denying him even that small comfort.
His body, stiff and unyielding from years of disuse, resisted, stopping halfway.
“You’re stiff,” Master observed, a hint of impatience in his voice.
“I haven’t moved for a long time… Hick!” he managed to stammer, a pathetic excuse that only served to highlight his current predicament.
“I’ll have to stretch you every day until you open up well,” Master declared, the words sending a shiver of both dread and a strange, undeniable thrill down his spine.
His legs were then forced wide, stretched to their absolute limit.
The dull ache in his strained muscles was easily ignored, overshadowed by the burning shame that consumed him.
His face burned with a fiery heat, knowing his most embarrassing, most vulnerable parts were completely exposed, visible to Master in their entirety.
He wriggled his body, a pathetic attempt to close his legs, to escape the searing gaze, but Master’s grip was unyielding, widening them further as if to say it was useless, futile.
Finally, unable to bear the intensity of the situation, he squeezed his eyes shut, plunging himself into a momentary, welcome darkness.
Just then, a startling sensation—a cold, slick liquid—was poured directly between his legs.
He flinched violently, his toes curling instinctively, a sharp, almost painful contraction.
“Ah…” a soft gasp escaped him as a long, insistent finger nudged its way into the narrow, tight opening.
His body, already a taut wire of tension, stiffened further at the unfamiliar intrusion, the uninvited guest within.
The finger, now inside, began to move, pushing and prodding, as if to deliberately widen the entrance.
He instinctively stiffened his body, a desperate, automatic response to the sensation. Master’s voice, now a low, dangerous growl, cut through his panic.
“Relax. Unless you want to only take fingers all day.”
“Ugh… but… Ah!” he tried to protest, his voice strained, but the words died in his throat as the finger pressed firmly inside.
A sudden, intense surge of pleasure, sharp and overwhelming, erupted within him, making his eyes snap open, wide and unfocused.
He gasped, a sharp, ragged inhalation, clenching tight behind him, trying to hold back the rising tide of sensation.
He grunted, his body locked rigid, a desperate, failing attempt at control.
As the pressure inside lessened momentarily, he instinctively relaxed, a reflex he couldn’t control.
Master, ever observant, didn’t miss the chance, and another finger slid in, smooth and insistent.
“Ung… Hmph…”
A soft moan, half-grunt, half-pleasure, escaped him.
Now, two fingers moved in and out of the opening, truly beginning to widen the inside, their movements deliberate and relentless.
The sheer audacity of the action, the blatant intent behind each thrust, made his hips involuntarily wriggle, a desperate, uncontrolled response to the overwhelming sensation.
His entire mind, every single neuron, was consumed by the strange, alien stimulation from below.
He couldn’t think, couldn’t process, couldn’t even formulate a coherent thought.
“Master… Ah-ooh…” he called out, a desperate plea, his voice thick with a mixture of agony and pure, unadulterated pleasure.
He was pleading, begging, overwhelmed by the intensity.
But as if Master didn’t even want to hear him utter the word “Master,” didn’t want to hear his voice at all, he silenced him with a sudden, forceful kiss.
A tongue, hot and insistent, parted his lips, probing and invading his mouth.
While Master’s tongue explored the inside of his mouth, systematically stripping away his remaining sanity, another finger was added, pushing the boundaries further.
“Hmph… mmmph!” he choked out, his mouth full, his breath ragged.
He felt the three fingers inside him, relentlessly widening the opening, stretching him to his absolute limit.
As if mere widening wasn’t enough, they penetrated deeper, pushing and stimulating the innermost parts, hitting sensitive spots he hadn’t even known existed.
His wandering hands, aimlessly flailing on the blanket in a desperate search for purchase, found their way to Master’s body.
Unconsciously, almost instinctively, he gripped Master’s arm, his fingers digging into the taut, hardened muscles.
He could feel the intense heat radiating from Master’s skin, a searing warmth that seemed to match the fire consuming him from within.
Even though he held Master’s arm, a clear sign of his distress and overwhelming sensations, it didn’t seem to hinder Master in the slightest.
The speed of the thrusting below didn’t slow at all.
On the contrary, it became even stronger, faster, more insistent, to the point where he couldn’t hold back a loud, piercing moan.
The sound tore from his throat, echoing the desperate pleasure wracking his body.
The fingers inside rubbed hard, a relentless, merciless assault on his most sensitive spots, targeting them with a precision that was both terrifying and exquisitely pleasurable.
He twisted his hips intensely, unable to control the sudden, rapid mounting pleasure that threatened to engulf him.
“Ah…!” he cried out, his body arching, stiffening as if he was on the very brink of climax.
Just as he felt the overwhelming surge, the fingers suddenly, abruptly pulled out.
The opening, which had been overwhelmingly full, stretched to its limit, instantly felt empty, a sudden, gaping void.
He looked at Master, his eyes wide and unfocused, mixed with a profound sense of emptiness and a sudden, draining lassitude.
Master, observing his state, then opened his mouth.
“A robot trying to finish before its Master?”
Master’s voice was low, laced with a familiar mockery.
“Ugh…” he groaned, his face flushing a furious, painful red.
Shame, hot and embarrassing, washed over him as he belatedly realized he had been panting, gasping, on the verge of climaxing beneath Master.
The raw humiliation of being so utterly vulnerable, so utterly controlled, was almost unbearable.
Master, without a word, finished taking off his own clothes, each garment shed with a deliberate, almost ritualistic slowness.
Then, he positioned himself between his legs, his presence heavy and undeniable.
Seeing him there, fully exposed, a strange, complex feeling welled up within him.
Master had explicitly stated he wouldn’t do anything with a robot, had he not?
Yet here he was, leading this act, this forbidden intimacy, far more actively, far more eagerly, than he himself was.
His mind, already reeling, began to grow a little complicated, tangled in a web of contradictory emotions and conflicting desires.
Just as he was on the verge of questioning, of trying to make sense of the dizzying reality, something heavy, undeniably substantial, touched him between his buttocks.
The sensation was immediate, overwhelming, a jolt that cleared his mind of everything but the present moment.
It was hot and hard.
The sensation was immediate, undeniable.
His mind, already reeling from the previous assault on his senses, immediately began to deduce its identity.
His body, already stretched taut, stiffened even further, a sudden, involuntary spasm of apprehension and, yes, a deeper, undeniable tremor of anticipation.
It was then, belatedly, that he realized Master’s own member was also standing hard, a potent, throbbing presence against his skin.
“M-Master,” he stammered, his voice barely a whisper, a desperate attempt to regain some semblance of control, to perhaps even voice a protest, a request for a pause.
Master’s response was immediate, cutting him off before he could even form a coherent thought.
“Are you going to say you can’t do it now?”
His voice was sharp, a subtle challenge embedded in the question.
He tried to answer, to explain that it wasn’t like that at all, that his hesitation stemmed from a myriad of complex emotions, not from a simple refusal.
But Master didn’t even wait for his reply.
Before the words could fully form on his lips, Master leaned in, covering his mouth with a kiss.
This kiss, however, was different. It was softer, more tender than the initial rough, demanding ones.
The initial ferocity had receded, replaced by a subtle gentleness, as if Master was deliberately trying to soothe him, to ease his tension, to make him relax into the experience.
Master pecked lightly, soft, fleeting brushes against his lips, then began to suck gently, a soft, intimate caress.
He found himself responding instinctively, his own lips moving slightly, tentatively, accepting Master’s presence, yielding to the exquisite pressure.
“Mmm…”
A soft, involuntary moan escaped him, a sound of pure pleasure.
His heart pounded against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the backdrop of the incredibly tender kiss.
It was a surreal moment, a dream made flesh. He was actually, truly, rubbing bare skin with his Master, kissing him with a fervent intimacy he had never dared to imagine.
Such a day, such an experience, had been beyond the realm of his wildest fantasies.
He had never, in his robotic existence, even conceived of such a connection, such a profound physical merging.
All the tension that had previously gripped him, the fear, the apprehension, seemed to melt away, evaporating in the intoxicating warmth of the kiss.
He clung to the sensation, his entire being focused solely on the exquisite pleasure of their joined mouths, lost in the soft dance of their lips.
Then, a sudden, firm pressure against his opening.
The sensation was undeniable, a subtle yet insistent widening of the already stretched, vulnerable gap.
A hard, unyielding column, undeniably Master’s, began to slowly, painstakingly, make its way inside.
Overwhelmed by the sheer sensation, by the incredible intrusion, he involuntarily took a deep, shuddering breath, his chest heaving.
“Hmph…”
A low, satisfied hum escaped Master.
His body, already strained, tensed further, every muscle coiling in protest and anticipation.
A faint moan, a soft, involuntary sound of release and burgeoning pleasure, escaped from his slightly parted lips, a tiny admission of the profound impact of the moment.
The opening, already stretched to its absolute limit, was forced to yield even further as Master’s substantial member relentlessly pushed inside, a slow, agonizing invasion that seemed to take an eternity.
“Ugh… Master, Master… Ugh…”
he gasped, his voice choked with a mixture of pain, pleasure, and an undeniable desperation.
“Didi. Relax,” Master commanded, his voice low and firm, a stark contrast to the escalating chaos within him.
“Ugh, but… Ah!”
he tried to protest, his words dissolving into a sharp cry as the slowly advancing object, which had been halfway in, suddenly, relentlessly, pushed all the way to the root.
The full, complete penetration was a shock, a sudden, overwhelming pressure that made his head snap back, his eyes rolling back in his head.
He trembled uncontrollably, his body convulsing, unable to even release the breath he had instinctively held.
“Ugh!”
He hadn’t even had a chance to exhale the breath he’d been holding, to process the sheer magnitude of the sensation, when Master pulled his hips back out, then thrust hard again, a powerful, insistent movement that drove him deeper, faster.
He arched his back violently, a desperate, uncontrolled curve, letting out a loud, raw moan that ripped from his very core.
Master thrust hard again, once more pressing deep inside, and with that single, powerful movement, his mind went completely blank, consumed by a blinding white flash of sensation.
Something was profoundly wrong.
His body felt alien, unfamiliar, and his mind, usually so logical and precise, was a chaotic mess of overwhelming sensation.
This feeling, this raw, intense sensation, just from insertion?
It felt as though something was fundamentally, profoundly incorrect.
The intensity was too great, too immediate, too consuming for mere penetration.
“Master, Master. Hmph… please stop for a moment… something’s wrong…” he pleaded, his voice hoarse, desperate to articulate the profound strangeness of the experience, the way his body was reacting so unexpectedly.
Master’s eyes narrowed, a hint of impatience, perhaps even disappointment, clouding his features. He was looking down at his lower abdomen, his gaze sharp and assessing.
Following Master’s gaze, he slowly, reluctantly, lowered his own head.
There it was: his lower abdomen, already sticky, glistening with a viscous fluid.
“Oh…?”
A small sound of pure confusion escaped him.
His member, already limp and spent, twitched subtly, spurting out small, delicate streams of white semen.
His thoughts stopped completely, a sudden, jarring halt.
He hadn’t even been touched from the front, hadn’t experienced any direct stimulation there, yet he had already climaxed, just from insertion?
The sheer absurdity of it, the biological impossibility for a robot, made his processors stutter.
He blinked, once, twice, in disbelief, but the sticky liquid soaking his lower abdomen was undeniably his own semen, unmistakably expelled from his member.
What was even more baffling was that even though he had already ejaculated, his member continued to twitch with small, involuntary convulsions every time he felt Master’s insistent member deep within him, a silent testament to the continued overwhelming stimulation.
“Just how sensitively is your body made?”
Master murmured, a note of genuine surprise in his voice.
“N-No. This is my first time… Ugh!” he tried to deny, but the words were cut short by another surge of pleasure.
Before he could even begin to compose himself, to recover from the unexpected climax, Master began to move his hips again, a relentless, powerful rhythm.
Master’s member, perfectly fitted within his narrow inner walls, left no gap, no space unfilled, as it pressed deep inside him, grinding against his delicate internal structures.
He writhed, his body twisting and arching, continuously releasing white semen, a broken, involuntary flow that dripped down his thighs.
His entire body felt like one giant erogenous zone, exquisitely sensitive to every touch, every movement.
It was as if his senses, dulled from a long, dormant period, had been reawakened, magnified several times over, each nerve ending singing with an intensity he had never known.
“Ugh! Ah, mmm…! Ah! M-Master…! H-Hmmph!” he cried out, an endless stream of moans tearing from his throat, each sound a testament to the agony and ecstasy he was experiencing.
As he continued to moan, uncontrollably, he lowered his head, his gaze drawn to Master’s member, moving relentlessly in and out of him.
The sight was startling; its size far exceeded his expectations, a terrifying, overwhelming presence.
As he registered the sheer magnitude of what was thrusting inside him, his rear automatically tightened, clenching around the invading flesh.
Every time Master thrust deeper, stimulating him inside, his body, completely against his will, would involuntarily gush out white fluid, a sudden, powerful surge as if overjoyed.
It did so without pause, without respite, until his belly was thoroughly drenched, sticky with his own discharge.
Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the flow stopped, as if completely depleted, leaving him only twitching and spasming, unable to release anything more.
“Haaah! Ah! Master! I-I came! Stop now…! Ah!” he pleaded, his voice raw, desperate for release, for cessation.
Nothing more was coming out, but that didn’t mean the pleasure had diminished.
On the contrary, it only intensified.
He reached another climax, a powerful, shattering wave of sensation, but still, no semen emerged.
He squeezed his rear tight, trying desperately to release, but with nothing coming out, Master, seemingly unaware that he had climaxed again, did not slow his thrusting.
The relentless rhythm continued, strong and unyielding.
It was then, just as he thought he was completely empty, completely depleted, that something else, something entirely unexpected, poured out from below.
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