#nova's hands

Hands. 

There was something oddly fascinating about them. At least when it applied to a very specific animatronic. A very specific group of animatronics, more specifically. Sun. Moon. Eclipse. Nova. Other variants of that sort. 

Anything that followed the Daycare Attendant body plan had very intentionally been designed with anatomically correct hands. 

Four fingers and a thumb. Four fingers and a thumb which could bend about in ways that perfectly mirrored the movements of a human hand. 

Yet they had been made so much greater than a human hand could ever be. 

Larger. 

Stronger. 

Some had claws. Some were smooth. 

All of them were able to be moved with a precision that no human could ever replicate. Their metal structure was uninhibited by the flaws in human flesh and tissues. Bending one finger did not result in the awkward shifting of other fingers. There were no tendons or muscles there to contract and squeeze. 

You had spent a regrettable amount of time studying every possible difference between their hands and your own. To the point that the fascination had bled over into other aspects of your thoughts. 

No longer just simple observations, but a fixation. 

A greater curiosity that could not be simplified just by looking. 

Somehow, Nova had noticed. 

You don’t know when. 

You don’t know how. 

But he had noticed your bizarre obsession with his hands. And he was more than willing to help you satisfy some less innocent aspects of your curiosity. 

Because he had curiosities of his own. 

Curiosities that even you were aware of.

His body was larger than yours. His body was stronger than yours. His body was more complex than yours. 

That weakness of yours fascinates him. 

The softness of the flesh has become a fixation. 

He has already observed the little details in previous encounters. How the muscles on your arm will give and change shape to perfectly mold into his hand when he grabs you. How the skin on your fingers has just the slightest hint of give when it touches his metal body. The delicate look of your eyelids with each blink. 

While you were fixated on studying his hands, he occupied himself in studying you. 

In doing so, his observations bled into curiosities of his own. Curiosities that could easily be satisfied if he would indulge your own interests.

You were more than willing to let him satisfy those curiosities. Just as he was willing to indulge those inappropriate thoughts of yours. 

The indulgence started innocently enough. 

His hands came to settle upon your face. Slowly. Carefully. He caressed your face. He felt the softness of your skin. 

His thumbs lightly pressed against your cheeks. He observed how your skin gave way. How your face squished ever so slightly under the pressure of his hold. 

All the while he remained blissfully unaware of how even this touch only further piqued your interest. That or he had one hell of a poker face. 

With his every touch, his claws ever so slightly grazed against your skin, giving you goosebumps. That only fascinated him more. How your skin could seemingly change texture with just a little encouragement.

He brought his fingers near your eyes. You closed them. You closed them and did your best not to flinch as his fingers touched your eyelids. 

He was gentle. 

He treated you with utmost care. 

It was the anticipation of his touch that made you jolt when it finally came. 

He giggled in response, amused by your reaction. 

When he moved his fingers away from your eyes, you opened them. You opened them and were greeted by the sight of his amused, almost starstruck expression. 

He was enjoying himself. 

Good. 

You were enjoying this just as much, if not more. 

His hands moved lower. 

His fingertips danced along the skin of your neck. His teasing triggered the impulse to swallow. 

Even that fascinated him. 

He rubbed your throat more, coaxing more movements out of your esophagus.

Then, to your surprise, he squeezed. Not hard. 

One hand tightened around your neck abruptly, coaxing a gasp out of you. He carefully constricted your airway, seemingly even able to feel the breath moving through your throat. 

He moved his other hand back to your face. Specifically to your lips. 

You trembled as his fingers began to trace your lower lip. He maintained his grip on your throat even as he slowly slipped two of his fingers past your lips. 

Cold metal met the heat of your tongue. He coaxed your mouth open by spreading his fingers. For some reason your trembling only grew more dramatic as he explored your mouth with his hand. 

He snuck a finger under your tongue to feel the difference in texture. Rough on top. Slick underneath. He hardly seemed to notice that you had started to drool.

His fingers crept in deeper. Deeper. Until you could feel those clawed digits delicately stroking the back of your throat, behind your tongue. 

How you managed to prevent yourself from gagging, you had no idea. 

He withdrew his fingers once he had finished exploring your mouth. At which point he stopped squeezing your throat. 

Your face flushed as he observed his damp fingers. Slick and sticky with your saliva. 

He chuckled this time. Not a giggle. A chuckle. 

You could see a particular glint in his eyes. If he had a functional mouth, he would have licked his lips seductively. Or at least that was the vibe that that expression gave you. 

He wasn’t done with you yet. Not by a long shot. 

Until now, he’s only been exploring you with two of his hands. He still had two more, and he was eager to put them to use.

All four of his hands began to sneak their way into your clothes. 

Two began to explore your upper body. Two began to explore your lower half. 

His fingers danced along the skin of your abdomen as he slightly lifted up your shirt. 

Two of his fingers were still damp from your mouth. He left a trail of sticky skin where those fingers touched you. 

If you were trembling before, then your body was absolutely rattling by this point. From the chill of the air hitting your damp patches of skin, and from the anticipation of what he intended to do. 

His fingers wrapped around your waist. He squeezed ever so slightly as he began to move his hands higher up. Higher, higher up. Up to your chest. 

His thumbs found the skin beneath your breasts. Any clothing was ignored, or flat out shoved out of the way in order to allow him to further explore the feel of your body.

“Soft~” Nova remarks, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke. His tone was upbeat. He was pleased with the feel of your body. 

His hands moved inward. He found your breasts. You arched slightly into his touch as he began to caress them. He practically kneaded them against his palms. 

Squeezing. 

Rubbing. 

Lifting. 

Fondling. 

Eventually he pressed his thumbs against your nipples, after having taken notice of how stiff they had gotten in response to his touch. 

Apparently, touching alone was not good enough. He wanted to better see how your flesh interacted with his metal body. 

Thankfully he was careful with your clothes as he pulled from free of your body. You helped him, admittedly having gotten hot due to the stimulation.

Your skin only got hotter once you noticed the intensity of his stare. 

He resumed exploring your upper half again, repeating everything that he had done before, but in reverse. 

His thumbs rubbed against your nipples, seemingly fascinated by how stiff they had gotten. Or at least he was fascinated by how stiff they were in comparison to the rest of the surrounding skin. His claws lightly pressed into them, coaxing the faintest of whimpers out of you. 

It didn’t hurt. It just startled you. 

Startled and excited you. 

His expression changed briefly to one of concern, as he rightly worried that he had accidentally hurt you.

“I-I’m okay~ Keep going.” You respond, reassuring him that you were alright. More than alright, actually. Your body had taken to tingling wherever he touched you. 

His smile returned. 

His exploration moved lower. 

Having had himself a good, long look at your upper body, his curiosity had moved elsewhere. His other hands had been casually caressing the skin of your arse as he occupied himself with your chest. 

You cooperated as he slowly pushed your pants and underwear down. 

There was no hiding the effects of his touch now. 

He didn’t even try to avert his gaze. In fact, his stare only seemed to grow more intense as he studied your pelvis. He took notice of the sticky substance that seeped from between your legs, forming translucent strands that clung to your panties as they were pulled down.

Though the impulse to cover your shame was there, you did not do so. 

He continued to squeeze and fondle your arse as he moved his other hands to your pelvis. He seemed very, very curious about what was happening between your legs.

“Down~” Nova commands, his voice gentle but laced with excitement. 

He uses his hold on you to coax you down. But he doesn’t have you lay on the floor. He has you lay on him. On his legs. 

Your head comes to rest upon his knees. You now lay on top of him, with your legs held apart by both his body and his needlessly skillful hands. 

He runs his hands along the backs of your thighs with one set of hands while lightly gripping the fronts of your thighs with the other. 

You can’t help but try to hide your face. 

He discourages this with a growl. A low, persistent growl. 

You’re supposed to watch him. You’re supposed to enjoy his hands just as he enjoys your body. 

Those devious hands of his move higher, and lower. The two behind your legs moved down to your knees to lift them. He coaxes your legs further apart. Then he holds them open. 

His other hands move to your center. A poorly restrained moan escapes you as he begins to explore your womanhood. 

He curiously spreads your lower lips. Those devious fingers of his lightly squeeze and rub against your slick flesh. 

There’s no point in hiding your voice. Between his touching and his unblinking stare, your body has grown excited beyond denial. 

Thankfully, he never forgets the power of his body. Though he touches your most delicate area with strong, clawed fingers, he never hurts you. Anything but. 

He inevitably notices where all of the sticky juices are coming from. One of his hands then occupies itself by reaching into you. 

Just one finger to start. 

Your breath hitches in your throat as he slowly traces the entrance of your vagina with his finger.

Slowly, he slides it in. He slides it in deep. 

His hands are so big. His fingers are so long. 

You feel him curiously rub against your inner walls. You watch his wide, unblinking eyes as he indulges in his newest curiosities. 

He can reach all the way to your cervix. You can feel his finger hit that spot. 

You jolt, having felt his claw come dangerously close to doing something that it shouldn’t. 

He quickly withdraws his finger, his eyes shifting to study your face. He’s worried. Worried that he’s done wrong and hurt you.

You say nothing. You can’t bring yourself to use your voice. All that you can do is bite your lip and nod, silently encouraging him to continue. 

He hesitates for a moment. Only for a moment. 

Then he returns his attention to your womanhood. 

His finger has been left slick from your excitement. He studies the sticky substance for a moment, rubbing his fingers together and then spreading them apart. He observes the thin translucent strings that form. 

Then he penetrates you once more. Faster this time. 

One finger. 

All the way to the last knuckle. He withdraws. 

Two fingers. 

Slowly this time. He sneaks them in and wriggles them about, coaxing all manner of embarrassing noises from your lips. He reaches in deep, curiously touching your cervix again. 

Thankfully he recognizes that he shouldn’t try to push deeper than that. His fingers withdraw again. 

Three fingers. 

You whine faintly, feeling how his intrusion is stretching you out. He’s still being slow. He’s still touching and feeling and spreading his fingers. At this point he’s obviously testing to see how much of his hand your body can take.

Once more, he pulls his fingers out. 

Four fingers. 

You’re being stretched to the limits. Your breath escapes you as quivering moans. 

He gets all four in. Up to the knuckles. 

You almost sigh in relief, assuming that he’s reached in as deep as he can manage. 

Then he pauses. He doesn’t withdraw his hand. 

You watch as he tilts his head to the side, seemingly in thought. You don’t realize what he’s thinking. You don’t realize what he’s taken notice of. What he’s suddenly become curious about. 

His hand rotates ever so slightly. 

You feel his fingers begin to curl inside of you. His claws briefly scrape against your inner walls, coaxing a pathetic mewl from you. 

He’s made room for more of his hand. 

Your next escapes you an erotic moan as he pushes in deeper.

Slowly. Carefully. Your insides happily stretch to accommodate his pleasant intrusion. 

Deeper. 

Deeper. 

Until the only thing preventing him from sliding his entire hand into your trembling orifice is his outstretched thumb. 

A thumb which then has easy access to your clitoris. 

You throw your hand against your mouth to keep your voice at a reasonable level as he begins to curiously rub your clit with his thumb. 

Firmly. 

Persistently. 

He applies careful pleasure and rolls the pad of his thumb against you in a clockwise motion. 

You break. 

After having been teased for so long, the sudden attention to your clitoris pushed you to the breaking point. 

He’s able to feel as your inner walls tighten briefly around his hand. He stops rubbing you. All movement on his end halts as he feels you ride out your orgasm.

You’re left panting, head in a fog. 

He’s not done just yet. 

His hand slides out of you, but he isn’t satisfied with his exploration. 

You watch as he studies his now glistening fingers. Slick and warm from having intruded upon your body. 

Then you somehow flush further as he allows himself a moment to study your now gaping orifice. He seems absolutely transfixed by the sight of your inner walls twitching. He stares. He stares intensely. Hungrily, even.

Suddenly, his eyes lock with yours for a moment. 

You can see it in his expression. He’s still curious. He still wants to explore the limitations of your flesh. 

Likewise, he can see that you’re still fascinated with his hands. That you aren’t yet satisfied with how he’s touched you. 

There’s still so many possibilities. So many ways to indulge and explore. 

Neither of you are ready to stop yet.

You give him silent permission. He’s happy to continue. 

Continue you will.