#suspended

You were bound, a large piece of cloth loosely blanketing you as you silently beg him to finally lay his massive hands on you. But he would not because he's got work to do. Approving blueprints, simulating it's statics to the last bolt, the constant whirring of machines and the soft hum of the CNC machine not far away from you having long dulled any thoughts away from this workshop you may have had. You are to be wielded by him in whatever way he pleased, and today, he wished you to wait. To beg. To ache, to curse and despair over the long hours he has to treble shoot, strategize and organize the logistics for his Legion's supply chain. So that you may tease him about him making you wait for so long no more.

He's written down every lewd thought he had about you, each time his cock twitched inside his ever restricting body glove, the precise timing on it and plotted a rather simple machine in the mere minutes of spare time he allowed himself to have alone.

It would send electric jolts through you, just small enough so you would not fall asleep. It would gently feel up your sides and have a small rounded edge wedge itself between your thighs, teasing you with it's soft nubs. Furthermore, an old, heavily modified auxiliary helmet provided you with the odd feel of something wet enter your mouth every now and then. Sometimes it seemed to resemble a tongue, slow yet unrefined movements. Sometimes it seemed to resemble... his own cock. Without the irregularities in it's twitching, nor it's characteristic taste of him. It was a poor imitation of him slowly setting your body up into being prepared for penetration. At the start, when you were still able to form thoughts like these, you could swear that he made the soft bodies teasing your body intentionally this... unsatisfactory.

But now, right now, you begged, drool running your chin, tears starting to pool up in the back of your helmet. But he wouldn't hear you.

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