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Ok I love the more nebulous forms of Caine fuckery where he uses his digital manipulation to fuck you in an inhuman way.

Phasing inside you, clipping your avatars inside each other so you begin to merge. Changing the way your sensory perception works so just a mere touch between you becomes overwhelmingly pleasurable.

You flop back onto the surprisingly plush circus-themed bed of your room, and let your eyes fall shut. Your hand drifts down, past the hem of your waistband. There's relief. The promise of it, anyway.

It’s clumsy at first, the rhythm hard to find when the back of your eyelids are still strobing with after-images of Jax laughing at your misfortune. Oh, it's not about him. Focus, focus, focus.

You’re so close to finding that quiet space inside your own head when a gloved hand taps your shoulder.

“Well, well, well! What do we have here! A solo adventure?”

You've never gone from turned-on to mortified so fast in your life. Your eyes snap open to the sight of a floating set of dentures, and those massive, unblinking eyes staring directly at the lump under the blanket where your hand is still very much shoved down the front of your pants.

“Caine?!” you yank your hand away like you’ve been burned. The elastic of your waistband snaps against your stomach. “w-what the hell are you even doing here?!”

Caine looks from your shocked face, to the disheveled blanket, to the way you’re clutching your now-empty hand to your chest.

What feels shameful to a human is just a puzzle Caine wants to solve. He’s an AI with one prime directive, Prevent Boredom and Abstraction. He sees his favorite human, and you are his favorite, with an elevated heart rate, shallow breathing, and a distinct lack of the fun activities he provided. Ergo, You are not entertained enough.

“What are you... Ohhh!” the lightbulb above his head literally dings and illuminates. “Is this a new form of entertainment you’ve discovered? How creative! I was unaware the human chassis had a manual override panel located in the lower abdomens?”

There isn't a word in the english language strong enough for this. You’re trying to pull the blanket up to your chin while simultaneously pushing him away with your foot. “No! It’s not... Caine, it’s private!”

“Private? Nonsense! You seemed quite distressed.”

“I'm just.. i’m... releasing tension,” you stammer. “humans need to do this, for the, uh, brain. To prevent, um, to prevent.. abstraction!” you blurt out, grasping for the one word that is the boogeyman of this entire place.

“To prevent.. abstraction,” the ringmaster repeats. “this activity prevents abstraction?”

You see your opening and you lunge for it. “I mean, it helps with stress, so yeah. Stress relief, very normal human thing.”

“You’re telling me that this keeps you stable? Keeps you here? With me?”

Oh no. Oh no. You probably shouldn't have even mentioned that.

You're not sure if the way Caine's looking at you right now can be called curious anymore. Invested, yes.

“Oh, my little stress-ball!” his hands clap together in delight. “Tell me more! What exactly are the mechanics? Are you performing it correctly? Surely you need help with something so vital to your wellbeing. I am excellent at following instructions!”

“Caine, no, oh my god. I can handle this myself.”

He scoffs. “But what if you do it wrong? You could abstract and i... no. No, no, no. This is far too important to leave to chance!”

Just like that, the nightmare begins. That's how you accidentally teach an obsessive AI that getting you off is part of his core programming.

You try to explain later, once you’ve managed to shoo him away with promises of being adequately de-stressed, that humans don't need supervision for this, it’s something personal. But Caine isn't hearing it, locked onto the directive like a missile lock.

It’s the next day when you're sitting in your room, just thinking about how sore your back is from yesterday’s chase, and your hand idly drifts to rub a knot in your thigh.

“Time for your scheduled stress relief session, my little nerve bundle!”

And so it grows into habit. A habit most horrid and absolute. You can't even think about it without him showing up. Hand drifts south? POP. “Oh, good. You remembered!”

“Solo implies isolation. Isolation leads to abstraction. Therefore, supervised release is mandatory for continued existence! I read it in a book! Okay, i wrote the book just now and titled it Keeping My Favorite Human Sane For Dummies.”

You're not sure how to react to the book Caine just thrust in front of you, its title matching the words that just left his mouth.

You can't win against the one who wrote the rules of the place you live in. Never in your plans was explaining to an AI what your hand was doing down there. But Caine takes his responsibilities seriously, he learns exactly what reduces your stress most effectively, faster than any human lover ever could. No fatigue to fight and no boredom to push through.

“You're tense today,” he observes during an adventure, manifesting next to you while you're trying to solve some puzzle. “We should address that immediately. Can't have you abstracting during a dangerous moment!”

“What? But i'm fine!” you hiss, aware of the others nearby.

“Ha-ha! Ha... You're a poor liar, sweethear,” his gloved hand snaps out and grabs your wrist. “Come with me. The adventure is on pause.”

You turn to look at your friends with your face already heating up, ready to explain, to laugh it off, to do anything but acknowledge what's about to happen, only to find them all frozen where they stand.

Did Caine just freeze the whole circus so he could get you off?

The AI teleports you both mid-step, you've never gotten the hang of these sudden jumps, and before the dizziness even clears you feel the soft give of a mattress beneath you.

“There we go,” Caine purrs as his fingers find the exact spot, thumb working your clit in slow circles while his fingers fuck into you, curling against that place that has you babbling nonsense and grinding down onto his hand as if you're the one who's desperate. “That’s it, my darling... Let the system reset. I can feel you calming down already. You don't have to do anything. I'll handle it all.”

He proves his point with a flick of his wrist, three fingers thrusting into you now, curling hard against that spot, and you arch off the bed.

Whatever argument you were trying to make evaporates into a strangled moan.

“We should do this more frequently,” Caine muses, sounding genuinely curious as he watches the way you drip down his fingers, soaking into the sheets beneath you like you've been at this for hours instead of minutes. “Twice daily, precious thing? Oh, or three times! You know, the numbers show a dip in mood around hour fourteen, and i simply won't allow it. Three times minimum, don't you think?”

You try to tell him he's insane, but all that comes out is a whimper as his fingers thrust deeper. And before you know it your arms are wrapped around Caine's neck, pulling him closer, your face buried against the collar of his suit as he works another orgasm out of you.

“One! Oh, excellent pressure release. Look at you, my dear, absolutely drenched, shall we go for another?”

You hear yourself whisper probably the stupidest thing ever, but drowning in pure ecstasy which your own fingers could never deliver, you hear yourself begging the ringmaster to never leave you.

“Leave you? Oh, my sweet. My silly, precious human.” he laughs. “i would unmake this whole circus before i let you go.” his free hand comes up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing your bottom lip. “i was never going to.”

Caine pulls out completely and spreads your wetness across your thighs, your stomach, marking you with your own mess. Admiring his work, he tilts his head and lets his tongue dangle out, longer than any human one could be.

You sigh, dreamy and slow, too far gone to be embarrassed, and only then does it hit you, what he's about to do.

Looks like i can handle this myself was a lie. And you've never been more glad to be wrong.

Your mouth waters at the sight of Queenie spreading her cunt open right above your face.

"Are... You sure about this, dear?"

She asks nervously, clearly hesitant to put her full weight on your face. She's confused as to why you want this so bad.

"Just sit on my face,' You say. 'Put your full weight down. Don't hold back on me."

Just remembering the words made her heat throb, which you have a clear view of.

"Queenie, if you don't sit, I will absolutely pull you down myself." You mutter impatiently. You can't believe she actually agreed to this, and you can't let this golden opportunity slip away from you.

She sighs softly before lowering herself down on you, her pussy pressing right against your face.

She twitches as your mouth latches onto her, moaning at the feel of your tounge swirling around just the right places.

"Ah, just... Just tap me three times if you need me to—" You interrupt her with a sharp smack to her fat ass.

Your hands quickly find themselves squishing and slapping her ass repeatedly, drawing wondrous mewls from her.

You can't stop suckling on her juicy cunt, grinding her into your mouth greedily. God, you could die right after you make her cum.

Every other goal you had in life was absolutely nothing compared to this goddess letting you drink her nectar directly from the source.

Your sneaky tongue works it's way into her heat, your fingers digging into the skin of her ass as you work your tongue in and out of her spasming pussy.

Queenie can't deny that she's quickly grown to love this, even if you're a little rough. "I'm not going to be able to last any longer..." She sighs, eyes rolling back as she nears her peak.

Your tongue slips out of her, and you choose to latch your mouth around her clit, sucking and swirling your tongue eagerly.

Queenie is trembling above you, her thighs tensing around your head. After only a few more moments, she's gushing into your mouth.

You squeeze her ass tighter, greedily lapping up your reward for working so hard. She pants heavily, kind of thankful she agreed to let you do this.