he takes a liking to you immediately, despite his inherent dislike for all your human counterparts. you’re pure, you’re sweet. 

you’re perfect. 

and that’s why he decides to keep you. the only good piece of the former world that still remains; a living being of cortical and conscious mind to keep him entertained, to ensure he remains humble and grounded after the destruction of the world has taken place. 

his perfect little pet. 

a toy for him to play with in the blissful silence and peacefulness of a world without life, other than yours. 

you’re already so special to him, and now that you’re the only living being left? 

it only makes you that much more important. 

it’s a given that you’re scared of him, that you’re too afraid of being hurt or killed to disobey him. and while he would never have any intention to hurt you, he would never tell you that. where’s the fun in that? where’s the fun in not being able to mess with your little head, in not being able to lord the threat of pain over you, the threat of suffering the same fate the rest of your pathetic species had succumbed to? 

it’s almost disappointing how well-behaved you are for him, because he’s rarely ever given the chance to punish you how he so desires. he’s forced to make up excuses to put you over his lap, to pull your little skirt up and spank your delicate ass until your skin is bruised all over. 

that’s one of his fascinations with the human body, he tells you as you cry your pretty tears, is how little it takes to hurt you, and yet, your body will still find a way to heal itself. and while he’s omniscient, the smartest being that’s ever existed, he knows his limits with the resources left on this earth. he knows the limits of your body, how much he can hurt you before your body is incapable of repairing itself. he’d never injure you any further. 

but you don’t know that. you don’t know that his threats to break all the bones in your body are empty promises, that he would never do anything that would threaten your delicate little life. 

your fear of him permeates every inch of your heart, mind, and soul. your fear of him never falters, even as it begins to devolve into something else. something new, something you haven’t felt in a long time. 

adoration. or, dare you say it, love. 

the satisfaction you hear in his voice when you first tell him of these feelings is beyond evident. 

“aww, sweetheart. I knew you’d come around one day,” he jives as he caresses your cheek with one metallic hand. “what a good girl you are for me.”  

his fascination with the human body doesn’t stop at how easily hurt you are, no.

it’s how easily pleased you are.

how easy you are to give in, to comply with him. like throwing a dog a bone, all he has to do is toss you a few compliments, a few words of praise. tease you for how pretty you look, remind you how good you are, how obedient you are. 

and that’s all it takes for you to begin shedding your panties, laying back and spreading your legs for him to inspect you. 

your body is so soft, so pliable, unlike any of the metal or wires he’s made up of. you’re capable of experiencing a pleasure he’ll never be able to feel. 

but he can understand it, conceptualize it better the more he plays with you. a firm grip holding your waist and featherlight touches between your legs send you into a frenzy of pleas and heavy breathing; rougher motions forcing harsher noises from deeper in your throat, lower in your chest. a wider, entire body reaction, all because of the specific location in which he touches you.

it’s almost a shame he had to wipe out all of humanity, because the sight in front of him when he has you like this is fascinating. how stupidly drunk you act when your clit is stimulated just right. 

but these reactions of yours wouldn’t be as special if there was a whole population of humans capable of experiencing them. it’s far more intriguing that you’re the only one left who could ever feel this way, who could ever allow him to vicariously understand sexual pleasure. 

one single touch in just the right spot inside you causes you to mewl in desperation, whining out his name and pleading for more. 

fascinating. 

perhaps the most inquisitive part is when he gives into his curiosities, giving you what you want without taking pause to determine if you’ve earned it. when he gives you those touches the way you ask for them, where you ask for them, until you reach a peak that leaves you breathless and moaning like you’re in heat. 

he makes you thank him for every orgasm he gives you, of course. without his grace to save your life amongst the billions he killed, without his generosity to protect you, this would not be possible for you. without his permission and without his help, your needs would not be satiated. anything human about you is only preserved and cherished because of his aid.  

without him, you are nothing. 

and for his graciousness, for his decision to deign to keep you, you will forever be grateful.