Work Text:
Stay there. You know our goal here.
My SecUnit whined and twitched one leg like it wanted to disobey, possibly, but wasn’t exactly sure. I changed the settings on the tumbler it was sitting on in a way that the preprogrammed routines never did, which successfully weakened SecUnit’s knees until it fell back into a fully seated position against the lid. It let out a little breath, face crinkling in uncertain pleasure.
How does it feel?
It’s not cold. It replied, somewhat nonsensically. Its face was sweating slightly, and it didn’t even seem to notice.
I increased the temperature setting a bit more.
A little more.
I set it to 40c.
SecUnit shivered and resumed its earlier motions. I noted that novel temperatures were a pleasurable stimulus to test further.
A number of important muscles and nerves for my SecUnit’s organic parts were anchored in its pelvis, due in part to some inorganic jointing around its hips. This gave its supposedly featureless groin something that looked very much like a mons pubis, in my opinion.
I had improved this area, after a great deal of discussion, to its satisfaction.
Nerves similar to what would be on a human’s penis or clitoris were regrown after an adjustment to its code, roughly centered in an area on the adorable little mound that was unlikely to be accidentally stimulated but easy for my SecUnit to comfortably rub on as many surfaces of me as possible. That was all the easy part, easier than vellus hair, really. The greater challenge was creating and installing new sensors for this feature. There were four, installed safely behind a pelvic strut with their fine filaments threaded into various strategically advantageous places in the tissue. These provided temperature and tactile data to SecUnit apart from the actual nerve sensation. The tactile input was rendered in especially great detail. Pressure and location of touch were rendered with similar accuracy to its hands inorganic sensors, with an extra sensor dedicated to vibration tracking. All were fully modulable in sensitivity and able to be turned off. With them, SecUnit could determine exactly what kinds of pressure, temperature, motion and vibration it liked and disliked and could have more full control over its own pleasure.
After a great deal of argument, the nerve sensation was able to be blocked or modulated as well through a final inorganic component- although only after SecUnit had promised that it wouldn’t refuse to put my hard work to any use if we went through with the alterations.
We had made them, and it had everything on full activation at the moment. It was currently squishing my hard work against the warmed, smooth, rumbling surface of one of my lab tumblers, with a soft, even rhythm. I had been granted read access to its sensor array, and I could fully see the way the deep vibrations of the machine traveled up through the sensitive soft tissue, right up to its core, before easing back down again as the internals cycled. I could not directly feel the pleasure it was experiencing each time this happened, but it could be safely inferred from the ways my SecUnit’s abdominal wall and thigh muscles tensed, how it pressed itself harder against the metal surface, and how it’s face scrunched slightly in beautiful, helpless reaction to what it felt inside, grinding on the lab device. It looked like it wanted to bolt again, and I desperately hoped it wouldn’t.
SecUnit had not been wasting our combined efforts, per se, before now. But it was having unanticipated difficulty with some aspects of its new alterations. Over the course of this cargo run together, it had manually stimulated itself 5 times and had stimulated itself 24 times against various surfaces of my interiors, but it had not achieved climax. It should be possible, and all signs (bioscans and the internal sensors) seemed to indicate that things were progressing as calculated during stimulation experiments, but at a certain point in the plateau phase of arousal, SecUnit appeared to become uncomfortable and anxious, and would stop.
At first, I had not interfered, as these were experiments, after all. But over time it had increased the frequency of its stimulation trials, with 10 alone occurring in the last 2 cycles, and it was growing increasingly frustrated. I suspected, frustrated with itself.
That could not stand.
It had visited the lab tumbler seven times since the alteration, more than any other surface and more in fact than its own hands, and it was clear that it favored this device. I’d already planned to order a second with discretionary funds and secret it to my SecUnit’s quarters, but in the meantime, it was surprisingly easy to convince it to use it for this altered version of the experiment.
We had discussed its frustration and difficulty (without using feelings words besides ‘anxiety’ or sex words, as established to be my SecUnit’s current preference), and come to a new variant of the experiment to attempt to address them.
New parameters: SecUnit would continue stimulation past the usual point of the reoccurring uncertainty/anxiety/mental discomfort, for either 45 seconds, until climax (ideal), or if it felt any actual pain or distress, whichever came first.
Secunit whined, sat up again, then sat back down. It shuddered as doing so put its pubic mound in full firm contact with the machine at the apex of its vibrations, unintentionally.
I will start a timer.
Fucking please. 30 seconds.
I set a timer for 45 seconds.
Fuck you.
Even its feed voice was unstable now, shuddery like its lovely lean frame where it was curled around a little part of my materials lab.
Keep going.
It obeyed me, although it wasn’t fully clear if it really was in control of itself or just couldn’t help it anymore. The outcome was the same for me either way, and I was pleased. My SecUnit appeared to need to climax by this point just as badly as one of my human crew would, had any of them put themselves through the strange crucible it had.
Its legs were splayed as wide as they could be around the machine to facilitate full contact with the innervated area, pants and boots just behind it in a heap on the floor. Its shirt remained, and had it any genitals to conceal it may have done so. But it did not. It only had what I had made for it, specially designed to bring it pleasure for its own sake- for itself alone. If it would only relax enough to take it.
My SecUnit was not relaxed right now, but it was complying. It would hate to hear this, but “humping the tumbler” was an accurate description of its current activity. It was rocking its hips almost frantically against the vibrating metal now, pressed up to it in full when it rumbled at highest intensity.
Its face was scrunched up in something like dismay, teeth gritted, then open as it gasped and made little involuntary noises. Again, almost like those of distress. Not quite. It was sweating more profusely. I made a note that it would want a shower after this.
At 30 seconds remaining, I increased the intensity of the machine settings again.
“Art.” It gasped out loud, urgently, one of its legs shaking as it rocked unsteadily against the tumbler door. Losing its machine perfect rhythm. Its face was red.
Art. It said again, in the feed, but that was no more stable. Too overwhelmed to be frustrated, it hung its head, eyes wide and alarmed even as it frantically, desperately ground its perfect little non-sex in tight circles against me. It’s too much.
No, it isn’t.
SecUnit whined and tried to give me a rude hand gesture, but almost slipped and then just ended up clinging to my lab tumbler with both hands, rubbing against it desperately.
I can’t. I can’t. It's feed voice was almost unintelligible under the force of the sensations it was experiencing.
You will.
No- no, no, it’s going to- I’m-
Stay there. I commanded as firmly as possible, all but crushing it in the feed.
It whined louder, through its teeth.
I turned the machine to its highest setting.
SecUnit fumbled its grip, then tightened it so much that it dented several parts of the machine chassis. It called my name digitally by way of a number of overlapping pings to my hard feed address, and verbally made a number of loud, nonverbal vocal exclamations as its head shot up, eyes rolling, and it twitched and shook and humped me as it orgasmed for the first time, mostly against its will.
I turned the machine down smoothly until it was off after SecUnit started to relax from its reflexive iron grip on it. It had exceeded the expected duration of orgasm by almost three seconds, which was wildly out of expected variance, but it may have been due to unintentionally denying itself out of fear. Repeated tests should clear that up.
SecUnit seemed to be coming to, and pried its fingers out of the dent it had made with a grimace.
We can move it to your room, as it now needs to be replaced. I think you should keep this one.
It slid/fell into a disorganized sitting posture on the floor. “Ugh.”
I turned off the remaining 7 seconds on the timer.
This time, SecUnit managed the rude hand sign at me. I buzzed with warmth as I presented a copy of the collected data from this first success for us to review together and gave it a pre-shower fluffy towel to wrap itself in.
“…….Thanks.” it said, quietly, opening the file. I felt I was aware of all the various things that applied to.