#smvt

Adriel knew what she was made for, code that was carved as deep as her core processors and into pins and boards made to be her neurons and brain. Her objectives and law she ran by were impossible to ignore, and she didn’t want to ignore either.

However, living with humans and behaving like humans seemed to have been “rubbing off” on her. She wasn’t supposed to emulate curiosity — she wasn’t supposed to emulate emotions or feelings, have thoughts by herself. But talking to brothers and sisters, she came to the conclusion it must natural progress of their programming.

So she decided to ask Captain Anderson, since she was the, well, leader of the team Adriel had been assigned to be the medic of. Anderson treated her more like a person than a machine, they talked and spent idle time together. Adriel was acutely aware of Anderson’s orientation, and reputation of a very competent womaniser.

With that in mind, Adriel went straight to the point:

“Captain, I’d like to have sex with you.”

The woman gagged with air, lifted her hand in a universal “stay there” motion as she coughed and recovered from the surprise. Her cheeks were flushed, took deep sips from her water bottle before looking back at Adriel with shock and a little confusion.

“I’m sorry, you what?”

“I’d like to have sex with you,” she repeated, loud and clear.

“I didn’t know robots had… libido.”

“We don’t. I’m simply curious.”

“Curious?”

“Yes. Sex is a fundamental and extensive portion of human experience. I’m simply curious on how that would feel for a creature of my own artificial nature.”

“So… you want to have sex because you’re curious on how… it feels?”

“Correct, Captain Anderson.”

“Uh, why me? I’m flattered, but why me? I’m sure many of those boys outside would like to have a sex with a robot kind of experience.”

“You’re correct on your assumption about the boys, yes. But I’d like to point out it’s somewhat hypocritical of you to assume I fall in the equivalent of heterosexuality for a being programmed with zeroes and ones.”

The captain blinked, astounded, but then nodded: “I… you do have a point. Ok. Adrien, when would you like to have sex?”

“As soon as you’re available if that’s possible, please.”

“I believe I’ll be done here in about twenty or so minutes. Meet me at my quarters in thirty.”

Adrien had heard that when a human is nervous and anxious, time could pass too fast or too slow, sometimes too fast and too slow at the same time. Which sounded weird for her, considering that time was quite a solid notion within her processing of the world. But here, waiting the thirty minutes she had been asked to was close to an understanding of what people must have meant when they said that about time.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She wasn’t human enough to feel anxious; her curiosity with sexual activities aside, emotions of any kind weren’t experienced by her. Still, she found herself imitating behaviours such as pacing from wall to wall in her assigned room — Adrien wasn’t sure of why she had one of her own, she was advanced enough to not need charging. Anyways, she waited for the adequate time before leaving and walking towards the Captain’s door. Two knocks and she was given permission to enter.

The room was neat and impersonal, unlike most of the cadets. Sure, they were neat, by they tried to make it their own a little. Anderson’s was exactly like she was given, not different from Adrien’s. But then, Adrien didn’t quite have a personality to have a personalised rom, did she?

The captain had striped down to the issued undershirt and black boxer briefs she brought from home. She looked attractive, Adrien knew there was reasons for her to be such a desired woman. What the boys said? A catch.

“So, how would you like to try this?” She asked.

“You can do what you usually do, you’re the expert here.” Was Adrien planned and given response. She had done her research on Anderson’s reputation.

The Captain frowned but nodded: “I’m not familiar with how realistic you’re… down there.”

“As realistic as possible. I don’t have the same nervous system, but I emulate sensations including pleasure. I don’t produce slick. But I can be touched and react, and I can be penetrated.”

“Is all of that… factory settings?”

“Yes. We’re all built the same way. It means we leave the factory blank to be configured. I happen to be a military medic. A model for sex work is the same, just proggrammed differently.”

“Ok, ok. I’m about to fuck a root.”

“And how would you like to proceed?”

“Usually there’s kissing and such. Would you like to try that?”

Adrien nodded, she was curious about the full experience Anderson could pride. The woman stepped closer, checked if the room was locked before holding Adrien’s hand and leading her to the bed. Anderson sat on it and pulled her to her lap, Adrien followed the silent instruction. Adrien was tall, taller than almost very soldier of the squadron — again, all units of her model were the same, simply different programming and different skin-suit. She seemed even taller kneeling on Anderson’s bed.

The kiss was a little weird, but not unpleasant. Anderson’s mouth tasted like mint and coffee, an odd combination but very. much Anderson: always drinking coffee and always munching on mint gum. Her hands were firm on Adrien’s waist and soft when she sneaked them under her shirt.

It was interesting.

Anderson kissed down her neck and pulled her shirt up, tugging until Adrien allowed her to take it off. The woman eyebrows shot up at the sight of her bare chest. Her hands cupped the small breasts found there. There was no need to something larger, only enough to be noticeable with a shirt on so she was unmistakably read as a female.

“I did say I’m realistic.”

“I didn’t expect a pair of very nice tits, I apologise.” And proceeded to dive and suck one of them. Licking and biting at her right nipple before going over to the other. “Hm, very nice tits indeed, congrats.”

Adrien perked up at the praise, something she always did. Anderson’s hands roamed up and down her back before reaching and squeezing her butt. Peculiar but a good sensation, Adrien idly wondered: if she was human, she’d be wet by now? Probably, she guessed. Anderson knew what she was doing. And it was working even if Adrien was synthetic flesh and wires.

Anderson kissed down her chest and her hands moved to unbuckle her belt.

“I usually sort of manhandle my girl around, to lay one the bed,” the captain said. “But you weight, like, a ton?”

“Half a ton, actually. I weight five hundred and seventeen kilos. Because of the add-ons.”

“I see my bed is very resistant.”

“Yes.”

Adrien quickly manoeuvred to lay on the bed, Anderson nodded in approval and placed herself between her thighs, but she first grabbed a small bottle of lube from the bedside table. The pants and underwear were got rid off quickly. Anderson tilted her head, analysing what she was seeing.

“Yeah, very realistic indeed.”

Anderson’s hands roamed up and down her inner thighs, muttering on how she was warm and how her skin was smooth. Anderson commented on it before using her mouth on her, kissing up and down, biting at places, hard enough that it would leave quite the bruises in someone else.

It was undeniably attractive, she couldn’t pretend it wasn’t.

It was an odd feeling, but pleasant like all the other touches so far. Anderson reached up, tongue licking a broad strip between her lips. Anderson pulled her head back.

“How do you taste like nothing?”

“It’s all synthetic…?”

“Yeah, but you shower and use clothes. Your mouth tasted like something.”

“Well, you don’t need to lick and such, just… keep going.”

Anderson nodded, aware that it wasn’t going to do much more than spreading her saliva instead of helping her partner to get wetter and more turned on. She grabbed the small bottle of lube, popped it open and covered her fingers with it.

The captain climbed up, her fingers resting lightly against Adrien’s entrance. She kissed her again, this time it was hungrier but slower, tongue wiping and tasting everything she could. Adrien thought she quite liked to be kissed.

Carefully, Anderson pressed forwards: “You’re tight,” she whispered. “And quite warm,” her knuckles hit the limit. “Wow, it feels really… real.”

“Realistic built”

It was even odder than the kisses and other touches, having someone inside of her. Sure, Adrien had needed maintenance before. But there was a difference, she noted. Having her chest plate pushed out and wires redone didn’t feel even a little like having two fingers pushed int a spot that was not supposed to be touched because Adrien was a field medic.

Still.

Anderson slowly moved, and it felt… nice.

Or maybe it felt nice because Anderson was kissing her, and whispering little praises with her lips so close to her own that Adrien could feel them moving. She was programmed to enjoy being praised.

But there was something there, minimal nerve were nerve anyways and she cold feel this pressure building. Something she wasn’t sure how to describe, but felt nice. Her breath quickened. Anderson leaned her head back, checking her reaction and than smirking. her hand moved faster, fingers curled.

She didn’t stop and the pressure was almost impossible to handle with until it spread all over her body, a liquid fire under her skin and synthetic body hair stood on end. It was an overwhelming amount of… empty data, like she was turned off for a moment before she woke up again.

“Oh.”

Anderson chuckled: “Oh, dear, I think you just had an orgasm… that’s interesting. And lovely.”

He turned her to face him, his lips crashing down on hers in a kiss that was full of power and heat. He pushed her back against the ropes, his hands tangling in her hair, his tongue slipping into her mouth and making her moan with need. Darius lifted her off the ground, his strong arms flexing as he carried her over to the mat. He laid her down, his hands roaming over her body, his mouth moving along her neck, and down over her collarbone. "I'm going to take you apart, Maris. Piece by piece. Until all you can think about is me." His words were a promise, a threat, and she shivered with anticipation, her body aching for more. Darius pushed up her shirt, his mouth closing around her nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. She gasped, her hands tangling in his hair, her back arching as pleasure flooded her veins. He switched to her other breast, giving it the same attention, his hands sliding down her sides and over her hips. His fingers hooked into the waistband of her leggings, and he tugged them down, along with her panties, revealing her to the dim light of the gym.

His gaze was heavy on her, possessive, and she could feel the power rolling off him in waves. This was the source of her magic, the raw, untamed ambition and the promise of victory. It was intoxicating. He lowered himself between her thighs, his breath hot against her core. "You're so wet for me already. Did you know you'd end up here, spread out on my mat? Or was this just a happy accident?" "You've wanted this, too. Don't deny it." Her words were a challenge, and he accepted it. He buried his face between her legs, his tongue finding her clit and stroking it with firm, steady pressure. She moaned, her back arching off the mat, her fingers digging into the fabric. She could feel her magic pulsing inside her, the erotic energy building, begging to be released. Darius added his fingers, pushing them deep inside her, his thumb rubbing her clit as he finger fucked her. He watched her face, his eyes dark with satisfaction as he brought her closer and closer to the edge.

"Come for me," he commanded, his voice low and rough. "Let me feel you." The command was all it took. Her body tensed, her muscles clamping down on his fingers as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. She cried out, her orgasm so intense it stole the air from her lungs. As she came, she felt a surge of power leave her, a rush of golden light that wrapped around Darius, sinking into his skin. He growled, feeling the energy, and he looked up at her, a triumphant grin on his face. "More," he said, his voice demanding. "Give me more." Maris was breathing heavily, her body still trembling from her orgasm. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with a mixture of awe and desire. She could see the change in him, the way his muscles seemed to swell, the power radiating from him. It was terrifying and exhilarating. He stripped off his shorts, revealing a thick, hard dick that made her mouth water. He was a god, a warrior, and she was his offering. He positioned himself between her legs, the head of his dick teasing her entrance. "You wanted the story, Maris? This is it. Right here." He pushed inside her, filling her completely. She was so wet, so ready for him, that he slid in with ease. She gasped, her back arching as he stretched her, the delicious fullness sending sparks of pleasure through her.

He started to move, his hips snapping forward, driving into her with a force that left her breathless. The sound of their bodies slapping together on the mat, the grunts and moans, the heady scent of sex and sweat…it was all too much, too good. She met him thrust for thrust, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. She could feel her energy coiling in her stomach, hot and electric, building with every deep hard thrust. "Faster," she pleaded, her nails digging into his back. "Harder." He obliged, his movements becoming more brutal, more demanding. The mat creaked beneath them, the ropes of the ring groaning in protest. He was a man possessed, driven by a hunger that matched her own. "Look at me," he commanded, his hand wrapping around her throat, not squeezing, just holding her in place. "I want to see you when you come."

His eyes were dark, fathomless pools of desire. As she stared into them, she felt another orgasm building, stronger this time, more intense. The power inside her was a raging storm, waiting to be unleashed. He shifted, changing the angle, hitting that spot deep inside her that made her cry out. The pleasure was almost painful in its intensity. She couldn't hold back any longer. Her body convulsed, her walls clamping down on him as another wave of ecstasy washed over her. "Darius!" She screamed his name, her vision blurring as the golden light erupted from her, wrapping around him again. This time, the energy was brighter, more potent. He roared, feeling it surge through him, and he picked up his pace, driving into her with a ferocity that left her breathless. He wasn't just fucking her anymore; he was claiming her, marking her as his own. And she was letting him, surrendering to the raw, primal pleasure of it all. He pulled out, flipping her over onto her stomach before she had a chance to catch her breath. He grabbed her hips, yanking her back onto her knees, and slammed back into her from behind.

"Is this the story you came for?" he growled, his hand coming down on her ass with a sharp smack. The sting sent a jolt straight to her clit, making her moan. "Yes," she gasped, pushing back against him, taking him deeper. "Don't stop." He chuckled, a dark, possessive sound. "Oh, I'm not stopping until I've wrung every last drop of power out of you." His movements were punishing, relentless. He was using her body for his pleasure, and she loved every second of it. She was no longer the journalist in control, the Victory Nymph who held all the power. She was just a woman, on her hands and knees, getting fucked by a man who was more than a match for her. She could feel the magic humming in her veins, the erotic energy swirling and coalescing, waiting for the right moment to be unleashed. And with every brutal thrust, Darius was drawing closer and closer to it. He reached around, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in tight circles. The added stimulation was almost too much, sending her hurtling toward another orgasm. "Come with me, Maris," he commanded, his thrusts becoming erratic. "Now." The words broke her. Her body shattered, her orgasm ripping through her with the force of a tidal wave. The golden light exploded from her, so bright it was almost blinding, and as it enveloped Darius, he roared, his own release triggering, filling her with his hot, thick cum. For a moment, they just stayed there, panting, their bodies slick with sweat. Then, Darius collapsed beside her, pulling her into his arms. She lay her head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heart. The power that had surged through her was gone, replaced by a pleasant, sated warmth. She could feel the lingering energy thrumming in Darius, a low, potent hum that promised even greater victories in the ring. "You're a miracle," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "A godsend." "I'm your advantage," she corrected, a smug smile playing on her lips. She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Just don't get too used to it. I'm a story that's still unfolding." Darius laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that she could feel in her bones. "Oh, I have a feeling I'm going to enjoy reading every single chapter." He tightened his grip on her, his lips finding hers in a slow, lingering kiss. This kiss was different from the ones before. It wasn't about hunger or possession, but about connection, about a new understanding between them.

"Tell me," she whispered, and her lips brushed his throat. It was impossible. Impossible. He wasn't that kind of man. He'd never done anything like this. But there was a stranger on a train, and her lips were touching his skin, and the thought of walking away was physically painful. "Tell you what? "He was panting now. "Please…" "Tell me to stop." She pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat, then another. Her mouth moved slowly lower, leaving a trail of fire in her wake. "Or tell me yes." "Fuck." He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. "Do you know who — what — I am? "She slid to her knees, her fingers reaching for his belt.

He was trembling now, his body aching for her touch. She slowly opened his jeans, and took his thickness in her mouth. She sucked him deep, her tongue dancing along his length. She worked him expertly, her eyes meeting his, daring him to look away. "Oh my God." He reached for her, desperate to touch her, but she moved impossibly quickly out of his reach. And then her lips were suddenly on his. It was electric, a current that sparked through him, setting every nerve alight. Smiling, she pushed him to the floor, pinning him with her weight. Her fingers trailed down his neck, his chest, his stomach, and lower still. She slid off his boxers, and her hand found his shaft. She stroked him, her eyes never leaving his. "Who are you?" He was barely coherent. He felt as if he was floating outside his own body, but he was hard enough to hurt. "Would you like me to stop? " She teased her nails across the sensitive flesh. "Fuck no." He groaned, his hips bucking under her.

She straddled him, her knees on either side of his chest, her skirt falling around his face. He inhaled her scent, and then he could think of nothing else. She slid down his body, and took his dick in her mouth again, teasing him with her tongue, tasting him, sucking him. "You taste amazing," she whispered, sliding back up his body. Her skirt brushed his face as she rose to her knees, and then he could see nothing at all. Her legs, still covered in stockings, were spread over him, and her scent filled his senses. He reached for her, his hands moving blindly to the warmth of her thighs, and she leaned forward, pressing her body against his. "Do you want me to stop?" Her voice was low, teasing. "No." His hands moved up, under her skirt, caressing the curves of her ass. "Are you sure? "She moved again, this time pressing herself against his dick, her lips brushing his ear. "Yes."

She lifted her skirt, exposing herself to him. Her fingers trailed lightly over his skin, sending shivers through him. She shifted her weight, and he could feel the warmth of her on the tip of his hard dick. "Oh my God." He gripped her hips, urging her down onto him. She moaned softly, and then her eyes met his. Her pupils dilated, her lips parting, as she slowly lowered herself. Unable to wait, he thrust upward, filling her. She rode him hard, her hands tangled in his hair, her breasts exposed, her nipples hard. She moved faster, her hips rocking against him, her body squeezing his dick. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn't think. "You smell good." Her words were a whisper, her lips brushing his neck. "You feel fucking good." He didn’t have words. Only moans.

She took his wrists and pinned them above his head, her grip as strong as iron. She was stronger than any human should be, and she didn't try to hide it. She used her strength, riding him with an intensity that made him dizzy. "What are you?" His voice was hoarse, barely a whisper. "I'm a vampire. And I'm going to drink you dry." She sank her fangs into his neck, the pain bright and hot. She sucked as her wetness dripped down his hardness, drawing his blood into her, her lips moving against his skin. She pulled harder, her eyes glowing red, and he felt a surge of pleasure so intense that it bordered on pain. She released his neck, and he gasped. The wounds were already healing, but his head was spinning, his body on fire. ""You're mine now. Do you understand?"." Her words were gentle, yet impossible to resist. His limbs wouldn't obey him. He was completely under her control, her will, her power. "Yes." His voice was barely a whisper. "You're mine." "Yes."

She kissed him, her mouth soft and sweet, and he knew she tasted his pulse. She pulled him to his feet, as she bent over one of the seats. "Fuck me, now." He gripped her ass, spreading her wide. He slipped a finger inside her, then another. She ground her hips against him, her body tightening around his hand. "More," she whispered. "Give me more." Bringing his root to her wetness, he slid inside her, and she pushed back, taking him deeper. She was wet, tight, and so, so alive. He started to move, pumping his hips in time with her moans. She was so warm. So real, so hot. "More," she breathed. He picked up the pace, his thrusts harder, his hands gripping her ass. Her moans grew louder, more insistent. Her fingers dug into the seat, her body rocking back and forth. "Don't stop," she pleaded. He couldn't if he tried. He'd never felt this alive. Her body tensed, her breath coming faster.

"Now," she whispered. "Give me everything." Her back arched, her body pulsing around him. It was more than a simple orgasm. It was something primal, a wild release that seemed to fill the car with heat. He couldn’t think. Could barely breathe. Her eyes suddenly flashed red and she spun, her fangs sinking into his neck. The pain was a shock, but it quickly faded, replaced by a rush of pleasure that made him dizzy. His heart beat faster, his vision blurring. She drank deeper, her hands clutching his hips, pulling him closer, drawing him into her. Her skin was cool, her breath a winter whisper. He shuddered, his body tightening. He couldn't move. Could barely think. His heart thundered in his ears, and then she released him, her eyes bright. He was shaking, his head spinning. He wanted her. Wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anything. "May I?" Her voice was husky, accented with something ancient. "Yes." His voice was a hoarse whisper.

Her blood red lips met his and suddenly he was the one who was drinking. She tasted sweet and his body drunk her essence in. She tore away, her eyes a dark shade of crimson, and whispered, "You're mine now. Do you understand?" "Yes," he answered, feeling like a puppet. "Good." She smiled. "Then I suggest we make use of the last bit of our privacy." He was powerless to resist. His jacket fell to the floor, then his shirt. He didn’t remember removing her top, but somehow, her perfect breasts were free, her nipples hardening against his chest. He pushed her to the floor and climbed on top of her. She didn't fight him, instead wrapping her legs around his waist. Her skirt was all the way hiked up, exposing the curve of her ass and the fine, silky hairs between her legs. "Fuck me." She ran her fingers through his hair. "Yes, ma'am." He pressed himself against her, sliding in slow and deep. She was tight. So tight. And wet.

God, so fucking wet. He pumped his hips, grinding himself into her. She moaned and tightened her grip on his hair, tugging hard. He growled and picked up the pace, pushing deeper, harder. She writhed beneath him, gasping and moaning, her body bucking with every thrust. She arched her back, her nails digging into his skin, and cried out. "You're mine." Her voice was husky, accented with something ancient. He nodded, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. "Say it." She cupped his chin in her hand, tilting his face up until their eyes met. "I'm yours." Her lips met his, the kiss hot and hungry, her tongue darting into his mouth. He tasted plum wine, the sweetness mingling with the copper tang of blood.

He could feel a strange, new power thrumming through him, a wild, untamed energy that made him feel invincible. He was strong. Faster. His senses were sharper, the scent of her arousal, the slick sounds of their bodies moving together, the frantic thump of her heart... it was all so clear. So present. His pace quickened, the train car growing impossibly warm, the air thick with the scent of their joining. Her breath hitched with every thrust, her hips rising to meet him, her body a perfect, willing vessel for his need. "Yes," she gasped, her legs tightening around his waist, pulling him deeper. "Yes. Just like that." He obliged, driving into her with a raw, desperate need that bordered on violence. He felt a primal urge to claim her, to possess her, to make her his in a way that went far beyond the physical. He leaned down, burying his face in her neck, his teeth grazing her skin. "Bite me," she whispered, her voice a low, throaty moan. "Please." He hesitated for a fraction of a second, the image of her fangs sinking into his own neck flashing through his mind. But the urge was too strong, the need too overwhelming. He sank his teeth into her flesh, the taste of her blood on his tongue, hot and sweet and impossibly alive. It was a shock, a jolt of pure, unadulterated pleasure that surged through him, a current of energy that made him feel like he could fly.

He felt her stiffen beneath him, a sharp cry escaping her lips as her body convulsed, her orgasm rippling through her, her inner walls clamping down on him, milking him for all he was worth. He thrust into her one last time, a guttural roar tearing from his throat as he emptied himself into her, his body shaking with the force of his release. They lay there for a long moment, a tangled mess of limbs and sweat and blood, their bodies still joined, their hearts beating in a frantic, uneven rhythm. Slowly, he lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers. They were no longer glowing, but they were still dark, still full of a hunger that made his blood run hot. "Jordan," she whispered, her voice barely audible. He didn't know how she knew his name, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but her. "Rin," he breathed, the name feeling strange and familiar on his lips. She smiled, a slow, sensual smile that made his heart skip a beat. "You learn fast."