Work Text:
Brett came into work early like he always did, deciding to snoop around Reagan's laboratory. He knew she would come in later than the rest, oversleeping from a weekend of staying up working on her latest robot progeny.
Using Reagan's clone hand to activate the doors, he strolled in, taking the time to look around. He had already seen the inside of her laboratory multiple times, but when he stopped to stare, it just got more and more impressive. Plates of steel welded onto exposed wires, rubber coils hanging from vents, and numerous colourful buttons that probably ended the world with one press. Brett dismissed the urge. Reagan would be mad if he touched anything, so he kept his hands to himself.
Taking leisurely steps around the room, he started to talk to himself.
"I wonder what all those beakers are for. Coolant? Something for the robots to drink...maybe?" He shrugged, inspecting the contents of her desk before sitting in her chair.
"Reagan's chair... It's so much more comfortable than mine! Whaaaat? No wonder she sits here so much!" He spun in the chair a few times, with no one around to judge him.
"Andre would probably say something like... "Oh, sex machine! Where are you? Take me!" right now. Ha." Brett waved his hands in the air comically before chuckling to himself at the bad impression.
"Good morning, Brett Hand. Instructions received." A loud computer-generated voice echoed around the room, making Brett jump. He looked around for the source.
"Hello? Robo-voice? Is anyone here?" He shifted in his chair uncomfortably. "Wait. What instructions did I give you?'
A metal hand shot out from the wall to grip his wrist. Brett let out a definitely manly scream as he struggled against it, jumping out of the chair.
Too busy to see another one grabbing his ankle.
"Woah! What the hell?" He was lifted into the air, thrashing against his restraints. Two more steel-cable arms captured his other arm and leg, and the situation seemed impossible to escape then. No matter how he fought, pure metal just held him in place, and it didn't get tired like he did by kicking and screaming.
"Oh god. I'm being punished for trespassing. Goddamnit Brett! Of course Reagan would have a crazy security system!" He wailed, his struggling useless against the arms immobilizing him. The arms pinned his wrists to his sides before flipping him over to face the floor, parallel to it. It brought his knees towards his chest, forcing his ass above the rest of his body. His ears burned from the compromising position, coiffed hair falling slightly out of place.
"Yo, not cool man! Is this some kinda sex thing?" As if in response to him, more arms appeared and made quick work of the seam of his suit pants, exposing his briefs.
"HEY! Those pants were expensive, I'm literally an unpaid intern, can you not?" The robot, uncaring, tore his briefs off him too. He struggled hard this time, scared of what was to come.
Now functionally exposed, Brett could feel the cool air against his bare ass, and while his dick lay limp for now, every second spent in this improbable situation turned him on more. He had some secret kinks he'd never tell anyone. What if they thought we was some kind of pervert, a sexual deviant? He shuddered at the thought.
Not allowing for more than a few seconds to recover from the shock of getting undressed, the robot revealed an arm with an attachment on the end. Still with his suit jacket on, Brett strained to see what hovered between his legs. The arms holding his legs started to distance themselves, and Brett panicked a little, knowing he wasn't the most flexible person in the office. He grimaced. He hoped the robot wouldn't tear him apart.
Thankfully, they stopped at the brink of pain, but Brett found himself more embarrassed than ever, with his legs spread and ass up in his boss's office. Yet, his cock betrayed him, hardening despite the blood rushing to his head. His breath quickened, cock swaying slightly between his legs, precum forming at the tip. The arm with the attachment moved into his line of sight, revealing a huge rubber phallus (otherwise known as a dildo) Brett whimpered at the sight, more turned on than he'd like to admit. He worried it wouldn't fit. Sure, he'd had his fair share of borderline gay experiences in college, but no way was that gonna fit without preparation.
Luckily for him, four smaller arms hovered near his ass, one of them dripping with what seemed like lube. Thank god. His head spun, dizzy with arousal (and being upside down). A small arm reached towards his cock, wrapping around it something like a fleshlight. Brett jerked at the stimulation, feeling way too sensitive. He tried to squirm away, to no avail.
"Is this what Reagan does in her free time? Make fucked-up sex machines for fun?" He panted, unable to resist the tight wet heat enveloping his cock. His eyes closed as his mouth fell open, letting out little noises of pleasure. He'd been so stressed since starting work at Cognito Inc., he hadn't even had time to rub one out. He was the most pent-up he had even been in his life.
While Brett was busy with the front arm, two of the back arms grabbed his ass, fondling it before spreading it apart. Brett's eyes widened, cheeks scarlet at the feeling of being groped and spread wide. His cock, however, twitched at the attention to his ass.
The lubed hand rubbed at his entrance for a moment, forcing a shocked moan out of Brett, inexperienced with his hole. The fleshlight continued swallowing down his cock, making him breathless with pleasure. Cheeks rosy and sweat dripping down his forehead, he was a mess already, the familiar heat of arousal coiling in his stomach.
This small hand paused for a moment before plunging in, relentlessly stretching him open. His breath hitched, a filthy moan escaping him. As the hand fingered him, he whined and panted, already stimulated from the fleshlight.
"T-too fast, ah- please! Slow down- ngh!" Seeming to never take customer feedback, the machine never relented, sliding its fingers in and out without pause. Brett's expression was undeniably erotic, his mouth hanging open as he panted, eyebrows drawn together and entire face red from both arousal and embarrassment. It thoroughly explored his insides, wetly slipping itself into him.
He was getting fingered and jerked off in the middle of his boss's office. By one of her robots. There were probably security cameras too. He didn't have the state of mind to think too hard about it now, seeing as the machine had decided he was sufficiently stretched. The scary-looking phallus appeared between his legs again, and Brett braced for impact. The fleshlight attachment slid off his cock with a pop, a mixture of lube and precum dripping from it. His cock was still painfully hard, having had no release yet.
The phallus rubbed at his hole the same way the fingers first did, and Brett stifled a moan, knowing its pattern.
There was a pause. Brett's soft breathing echoed around the room as the machine stilled for a moment.
Finally, it moved.
It pushed in as far as it could go against his tightness, he gasped at the intrusion, his pained noises quickly turning into moans as it thrusted into him slickly. He let out a surprised yelp as the machine hit a bundle of nerves within him. The machine, ever so efficient, had located his prostate.
"Ah- god- go slower!" He begged, the machine unrelenting in its assault on his insides, now targeting his most sensitive spot.
The clock chimed. 7:20 A.M.
To Brett's ultimate horror, the doors hissed open to Reagan holding a stack of papers.
"Hm?" She looked up from her document as the doors shut.
"Brett? Oh my god." She stared blankly at the sight, face heating up at the erotic view of her coworker getting fucked in her office, his face in an intense look of pleasure and humiliation. It ignited something in her.
"R-Reagan! Agh- help- oh god!" He panted between moans, the huge dildo sliding in and out of him still. Every time it slammed back in, Brett's whole body would lurch forward a little bit, his muscles tensing as he groaned, in pain or pleasure — she didn’t know. She couldn't move, her gaze transfixed to him and a warm feeling coalescing in her core.
She watched it ram into him obscenely, his entire body jerking to the harsh tempo. His neck reddened as he turned away to avoid her stare. Reagan cursed herself internally. Her attractive coworker was getting violated by one of her projects right in front of her and all she could do was stand there and watch?
"Ah- Reagan! Please help- ugh-" Brett whined desperately, he needed help, nevermind the trespassing. Set alight with sparks of pleasant electricity, his skin flared with sensitivity, only made worse by Reagan watching his defilement. He felt lightheaded, his jaw clenching and eyebrows furrowed in an attempt to mask his pleasure.
She snapped out of her trance, hands flying to the nearest control pad. A small beep sounded as the system connected to her brain, and she frantically tried to banish all sexual thoughts from her mind before anything else happened.
She was too late.
The robot reacted to her thoughts, swinging its arms over one another to force Brett into another position. Now, he faced Reagan while leaning back, his legs wide open in front of her. His arms were held behind his back as he let out loud gasps and moans. This view left nothing to the imagination, his chest heaving and back arching as he tried to hide his eyes rolling back.
His mouth hung slack as he keened, lips bitten and glossy with saliva. Unable to hide his reactions any longer, he hung his head, burning with shame as his cock twitched against his lean stomach, leaking precum. His eyes were teary, his perfectly styled hair now messed-up. The sight sent a shot of warmth between her thighs.
Reagan inhaled sharply, mind still racing with obscene thoughts as she scanned the room for a de-activation switch somewhere. Her sadistic streak didn't end in the bedroom and she wasn't a total virgin. Anyone would get riled up at this sight, Reagan told herself, more to convince herself than anything.
The machine reacted again with Reagan's back turned. Brett choked on a moan as the thrusting sped up significantly. His head jerked backwards, exposing a flushed expanse of skin normally hidden.
"No!" Reagan shouted, eyes wide. Shit, the machine carried out her wishes too well. The burden of being a genius inventor.
"Fuck- it's-it's too much!" Brett moaned weakly, as the fleshlight resumed its torturous work. His eyes were firmly shut in embarrassment, his abs tensed and head lolling to the side. His pelvis pressed into the fleshlight with every thrust, forcing sobs out of him. He tried to ignore his boss watching him, his eyesight blurring with tears. He could feel every ridge of the toy rubbing up against his insides, and paired with the constant tightness of the fleshlight, it only added fuel to the roaring fire within him.
At this point, Reagan stood helplessly in front of Brett, frantically trying to remember where the switch was. Maybe voice activation would work again?
“Robot, stop! Put Brett down!” She yelled over the sound of machinery, hoping to god it would listen. Even as her mind traitorously persisted with thoughts of Brett on his knees, gaze averted, blushing furiously as he begged her for more. Brett, hiding his face in his hands, even while his legs were spread wantonly. Him panting pitifully into the crook of her shoulder as she pleasured him with her hands, her tongue sliding over his neck, pausing to bite at his ear, which earned her a shiver. Fuck, she needed to concentrate. And not on Brett this time.
She waited for a moment with bated breath. Did it work?
Finally, the machine ground to a halt, pulling the fleshlight and dildo out of Brett in one movement, making him gasp.
“It stopped! Yes!” Her face broke out in a relieved grin before her gaze fell on Brett again.
The arms had lowered a twitching Brett onto her desk chair, his body weak from resisting. And his cock still painfully hard. His heavy breathing was the only noise in the room as he let out a weak groan, silently frustrated at being brought to the edge then dragged away from it. Reagan observed him quietly.
“Brett?” She broke the silence, her tone cautious.
“..yes?” An irritated Brett answered her, his own tone bitter. He moved to cover his crotch with his hands, mentally thankful for some semblance of dignity.
Reagan hesitated before inhaling purposefully.
“Your… situation.” She glanced down delicately. “I can… help?” She bit the inside of her cheek, her anxiety intensified with every second of stillness that passed between them. Maybe this was the wrong course of action. She swallowed nervously, her posture stiff.
Brett just held her gaze blankly, mouth falling open slightly. His expression was unreadable (to Reagan). Then, to Reagan’s relief, he crossed his arms and opened his legs, still making eye contact. His skin was flushed, his chest heaving as he watched her reaction. Reagan stepped towards him warily before dropping to her knees between his legs. His eyes widened imperceptibly, breath catching in his throat. What kind of weird wet dream was happening right now?
Reagan slid her hands up his thighs, exhaling warm air faintly onto his cock. It twitched, excited. Brett’s breath trembled as he watched her carefully. She flattened her tongue against his length, dragging upwards while she caressed his inner thigh comfortingly. Brett let out a small whimper.
“It’s okay, you’re not in trouble for breaking into my lab.” Reagan whispered, taking his hand in hers. Brett’s shoulders untensed and his breathing slowed, letting himself enjoy Reagan’s touch. Reagan licked around the tip, filing how he tasted into the back of her mind for later analysis. Slightly salty, though mostly tasteless, Reagan didn’t hate it, except maybe the ever-present scent of Axe body spray. She pushed what she could into the warmth of her mouth, using her hand to stroke the rest, with Brett groaning softly.
He’s still slippery from the lube earlier, this is easier than I thought! Reagan thought to herself.
She hollowed her cheeks as she bobbed her head, ignoring the growing heat between her thighs as Brett got louder. Brett’s breath quickened again, his hands gripping at the armrests of the chair. He was getting close. His feet shuffled around behind her as he strained, biting his lip, letting out quiet whines. Brett threw his head back, his jaw tensing as he panted needily. Reagan got the signal, speeding up her efforts. She let spit drip out of her mouth onto his cock while she worked, making small noises of her own.
Her other hand snaked down between her legs, privately stroking herself through her clothing. She’d never had a problem with multitasking, anyway. Too distracted to notice, Brett sucked air through his teeth with a hiss as his eyebrows furrowed.
She moaned around his shaft as she rubbed herself, the vibration sending Brett over the edge. White-hot waves of pleasure slammed through him, the long-awaited ending to the entire experience. Warmth coursed within him in deliciously intense explosions, all of the pleasurable sensations building up to this moment. He spasmed slightly as he finished, with Reagan continuing to swallow him down persistently. She couldn’t explain why his taste was ambrosial to her, at most it was tolerable. But she craved it still, licking her lips eagerly.
She pulled off him with a groan, feeling her own orgasm coming up. With her eyes closed, she stroked desperately, curling into herself a little as she moaned quietly. Breath heavy and hair messy, she gasped at the pulses of lightning streaking hotly in her, the sweet release she had been pushing aside in favour of Brett.
She looked up to see Brett smiling nervously at her, red in the face. Now clear-minded, they tried to regain their dignity, Brett smoothing his hair down and Reagan controlling her breaths.
“I’m so sorry I broke into your office, Reagan. I was just bored! Ugh- I’m so embarrassed that this whole thing happened, it’s all my fault.” Brett scratched his neck bashfully, his other hand hovering above his crotch. Reagan glanced down at her own soaked pants.
“It’s kind of my fault I built something like that anyway.” Reagan stood up, brushing dust off her clothes. “You’re forgiven… if we can get coffee sometime.” She added innocently.
“As long as you don’t mock my vanilla frappuccino.” Brett replied, rolling his eyes.