Ash leaned over the table where Mar-1E lay, her hands fiddling with the internals of the synthetic's knee joint, reconnecting cables and closing access ports. It sort of tickled, connections opening and closing, diagnostics twitching through Mar-1E’s processor as parts came back online. Ash, her buzz-cutted, buff-armed mechanic, had an intense look of concentration on her face, her tongue stuck to the corner of her mouth. It made Mar-1E smile, reflexively. 

“Almost done?” she asked, her smooth, not-quite-human synth voice hitching as feedback distracted her. She hoped not- partly because she loved to watch Ash work, and partly because, well, partly because for the last few minutes Ash’s sweat and oil-stained tank-top had been hanging off her torso in such a way that Mar-1E could see little glimpses of her breasts, and the occasional flash of nipple. This was very distracting, and Mar-1E had to force her politeness protocols not to say something. Ash was her friend, and she didn’t want the woman to know she’d been…well, ogling her. Not because she would be particularly offended, mind you, Ash was a very sexual being; that tank-top was only there to catch stains, otherwise she would have happily worked topless. But rather because she wasn’t sure how Ash would feel about being ogled by a synthetic. A non-human.

Oh sure, she was rated for human-level intelligence. She could make her own decisions, had her own sexuality of a sort, was demonstrably ‘alive’ for some meaning of the word. But she’d had bad experiences before, and she was hesitant to allow herself to become vulnerable again. Besides, Ash had at least one girlfriend that she knew of. Possibly more. Why would anyone pick a synth for a lover?

“How’s that feel?” Ash asked, jolting Mar-1E out of her reverie. She blushed, then frantically cancelled the blush command. Stupid emotion-sim, she cursed to herself, Please don’t do this NOW. 

“Uhhhh…” Mar-1E hummed, stalling so she could flex her leg back and forth, testing for any catching or grinding. There was none- the leg moved as smoothly as it did out the box. “Yeah, yeah it’s good. Like new.” she said, somewhat at random.

“Cool. Any input lag? Any sensory issue?” Ash asked, her voice lilting as she poked her finger randomly around the synth’s leg. “Are you ticklish?” she added, wiggling her finger over the back of her knee. 

“No,” Mar-1E replied, silently adding ‘but I wish I was’. “Some synths can simulate it, but I find it really distracting.”

“Yeah, if I could turn off ticklishness, I totally would.”

“Are-” Mar-1E’s eyes widened a little, a smile crossing her face, “Are you super ticklish?”

Ash grinned at her, raising one pointing index finger in remonstrance. “Don’t even think about, Marie.” she said, her voice faux-stern in a way that made Mar-1E very glad she could suppress shivers at will. 

“No ma’am!” she answered, raising her hands in surrender. Ash laughed, the sound low in her throat. Mar-1E thought it was a wonderful laugh- her favorite. She would use a version herself, but she was worried that would come off as a little creepy. 

“Alright then, you’re done. Off my chair!” said Ash, gathering up her tools in an oily cloth and laying them haphazardly on a workbench. The chair was an old, worn thing, salvaged from a retiring barber. It was padded and comfortable, and could be spun, raised, or lowered as required. It was one of Mar-1E’s favorite places to be recently. Not only was it comfortable (insofar as she cared about comfort), but the way it displayed her to Ash’s view, laid her bare for inspection…that did something to her that she felt all the way in her servos. Little autonomic twitches made to adjust her balance, small unaccountable temperature spikes, sensory reactions informing her how Ash looked, smelt, perhaps even how she would taste-

Mar-1E realized she still hadn’t moved, and all but leapt up out of the chair, smoothing down her pencil skirt, brushing the wrinkles out of her blouse. It was weird, wearing clothes, given that she had nothing under her skirt except smooth metal, and her blouse’s swell concealed nothing more than the mannequin imitation of breasts, smooth and nipple-less. But most synthetics did, choosing to make themselves seem more human, or sometimes because they enjoyed fashion. Mar-1E did it because she worked as a secretary, and her job was biased enough to tacitly extend the dress-code to all personnel regardless of biology.

“I know you don’t like them,” Ash mused, picking up on her discomfort, “But you rock the secretary get up.” 

Mar-1E turned to hide her face for the moment she needed to cancel the blush (again), only for Ash’s hand to casually sneak out and swat at her backside as she bent to grab her shoes. She yelped, turning to stare. 

“Hey!” she spoke, her mouth moving without her circuits’ permission, “Just because I’m dressed as a secretary doesn’t mean you can slap my behind!”

Ash mottled, cheeks turning pink even as the rest of her drained to a pale white. 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry Marie! That was so fucked up I didn’t even think-”

"No, I mean-" Mar-1E had never seen someone look so mortified, especially not someone as seemingly unshakeable as Ash.

"I'm SO sorry, look, forget about my fee, you can just-you can just go, Marie, fuck, I-"

"WAIT!" Mar-1E yelled, panic sounding even through her artificial voice. This was not how things were supposed to go. She hadn't minded the swat at all- the opposite even, but the association with her work clothes and unwelcome behavior was so strong that she'd responded without thinking. Her processes raced, ideas for what to say piling up in her head, in her throat, until it felt as if they were choking her, blocking one another off, blocking anything from coming out of her mouth. Instead she raised a hand, palm out, and soft-reset her speech centers. Ash waited, mouth slightly ajar, face still pale. 

“Wait. Okay.” Mar-1E spoke more calmly now, pausing as if for a breath she didn’t need. “It’s okay. I- I didn’t mind it.”

“But-”

“Let me finish! I just- it reminded me of work, and people’s dumb jokes. And…I’d rather it wasn’t a joke.”

“No, I totally get it, I really overstepped, and I’m sorry-”

“No!” Mar-1E all but wailed, her cheeks going artificially pink and not even bothering to stop them, “I meant that I didn’t want it to be a joke!”

“What?”

Mar-1E’s mouth closed shut with a snap. Oh fuck, she thought, I’ve said it now. Ash’s eyebrows were climbing her face, her nose wrinkling, lips pursing as she thought this through to the logical end. 

“You mean…”

“Yes.” Mar-1E managed, in a small voice.

“Like me and Amy-” Ash mentioned one of her girlfriends off-hand, one whom Mar-1E had seen waiting for Ash in a corner of the shop, wearing a collar and a leash. 

“Yes.”

“...Oh." Ash pondered this for a long moment, her face returning to something approaching normal, "I mean I’ve always thought about it-”

“You have!?”

“Yeah,” Ash admitted without a trace of embarrassment, “And I like, read about it. But I wasn’t sure all synths were- or you were, y’know. Into that.”

“It’s pretty rare. Among synths.” Mar-1E admitted, her cheeks going a darker pink. “I’m- unusual.”

Ash didn’t answer, and Mar-1E worried a moment, watching the woman examine her with a curious eye. 

“You’re blushing.” Ash murmured finally. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“It’s- It’s part of the social-sim I have installed,” Mar-1E said, rubbing the synthskin of her cheeks as if trying to clean the blush off it, “It makes me seem more approachable.”

“So…” Ash said, shaking her head as if trying to get the idea to sink in. “You and me, huh?”

Mar-1E simply nodded. It was safer.

“What would that look like, to you?” asked Ash, taking a step closer, deliberately putting herself just outside Mar-1E’s personal space. “I know you don’t have- y’know. So what gets your servos running?”

“Well…” Mar-1E began. This was much further than she’d intended to get in her somewhat forlorn quest to catch Ash’s attention, and now she was in unknown territory. A social-sim was a great asset for smalltalk but it did not contain conversational logic for negotiating kink, nor for opening up to a very intimidating, nearly naked woman- because by this point, and this close, Ash’s sweat-stained tanktop and her denim shorts covered very little of her appealing form. 

“Well?” asked Ash, her paleness fading and a slow, distinctly amused little curve appearing at the corner of her lips. Mar-1E shifted from foot to foot nervously. 

“W- If you don’t…mind me asking, what sort of things do you do with Amy?”

“Well…” Ash grinned then, inching closer as she explained in a low voice that grew rougher as she went on, “When she’s with me, she’s mine . My pet. My toy. My property .”

Mar-1E didn’t shiver only because that was a voluntary reflex for her. Internally, she noted her temperature spike. 

“I do whatever I want to her. Whenever I want to. If I don’t want to do anything, she waits in the corner like a good toy. And if I want her to do something, she does as she’s told .”

“W-what sort of things ?”

“Depends on my mood. Maybe I make her hurt herself. Maybe I hurt her. Maybe I take her mouth. Her cunt. Her asshole." Ash's lips curled around the words, taking delight in how each vulgarity affected Mar-1E, "Maybe I make her clean my workshop with vibrators strapped to her. Maybe I make her clean my body with only her tongue. It doesn’t matter what I choose. Only that I’m the only one who gets to choose.”

“And- what if she doesn’t want to do those things?”

“She has her safeword, you know. But she does. She’s a good toy. She knows who she wants to please. She knows who she wants to own her.” Ash smiled wickedly, and Mar-1E realized that at some point Ash had slid effortlessly into her personal space, and now had one hand casually against the worktop next to Mar-1E’s hip, closing her in. She had absolutely no doubt by now that Ash would let her go if she asked, or changed her mind, or freaked out, but right now she wasn’t doing any of those things. 

“I-” she heard herself say, “I know you like synths.”

“I do.” Those words promised a lot, all of it wicked. 

“A-And I want to be owned. I want to give up my control. I’m sick of making choices and being criticized for them. I just- I just want not to be able to think any more.”

“That sounds like a lot of pressure, Mar,” Ash murmured, and Mar-1E’s synthetic heart skipped a beat. Well, her power fluctuated slightly, but she was counting it. The shortening of her name fit across Ash’s lips so naturally that it seemed perfect.

“It is…so I want- I want to give you my root key.” Mar-1E said finally, spitting out the darkest, deepest desire that she’d ever fantasized about, the act she read about in niche kink fiction and occasionally saw in schlocky sci-fi thrillers with human actresses pretending to be synths. 

Ash’s eyes went wide, her whole posture shifting. At first Mar-1E thought she’d scared her off, ruined it all, but then she looked solemnly at the synthetic woman and lifted a single hand. It dragged its rough, calloused fingers down the curve of her cheek, thumb brushing just across the curve of her lip. It took her actually shutting her facial muscles down to stop her from taking it into her mouth. 

“Are you sure about this, Mar?” she asked, her voice tight, mingled with reverence and deep arousal, not unnoticed by Mar-1E and displayed in both subtle social cues her sim picked up, and the slight bulge at the front of Ash’s shorts, which needed no such software to decipher. “It’s dangerous. I don’t think you should offer the first domme you meet your entire…identity.”

“I’ve known you for a long time, Ash,” Mar-1E said, wishing she could make her voice sound more sensual, less synthetic, less artificial to her own ears.

“Yeah, but this- this is edgeplay, Mar. I could empty your accounts. I could reprogram you, make you a whole new person. Hell, I could delete your memory of me doing any of that, and you’d never know-”

“You wouldn’t do that.” Mar-1E’s voice was firm. Trusting. 

“You don’t know that, Mar!” Ash growled, the hand dropping from her face and grabbing a handful of that blouse, pushing her roughly against the worksurface. Mar-1E had always known that Ash was strong, but now she could see the wiry muscles in her arms standing up like power cords, feel that pressure against her body. Ash was almost on top of her, fist clenched so tight in her shirt it was actually trembling. Mar-1E loved her for it. Loved her more for her fear. Her need for Mar-1E to be safe. So she softened her body, went loose and limp, and let Ash catch her, other arm encircling her waist to break her fall. Their hips met, and Mar-1E reveled in the firm heat of Ash’s arousal against her. 

“See?” she murmured, “You won’t hurt me like that. Unless I ask you to.”

Ash shook her head, making a frustrated noise deep in her throat, then dragged Mar-1E by the blouse into a fierce, possessive kiss. Mar-1E squeaked, her further persuasion cut-off, her sensory data going wild for a moment as she tried to memorize, record, save, interpret the feeling of Ash’s lips against her own. They were so soft, so pliant- not like the hard muscle and calloused hands she’d felt before. And the way Ash moved them, it was like she was trying to devour Mar-1E, to own this part of her- and then the rest. 

When it ended, it was Ash who broke away first. It had to be, Mar-1E had no need to breathe, and absolutely no desire not to be kissing Ash. She pushed the synthetic woman away with one hand, giving herself some breathing room- Mar-1E idly noticed that Ash was breathing hard now, and her cheeks and neck were noticeably more flushed. 

“Okay-” Ash said, running a hand across her buzzed scalp, “Fuck- okay. Give me a second. Go- go sit on the chair.”

Mar-1E did so, calming herself by replaying the conversation over in her head. This was good. This was…fantastic actually. She’d done it. She’d confessed her deepest desire, and Ash had kissed her. And now she was considering doing it. Mar-1E felt her feedback loop a little, her processes stuttering as she realized that experiencing it was going to be a whole other ballgame to just reading about it, imagining it in her own head. Was she ready?

Meanwhile, Ash was bent over her laptop, fingers blurring as she tapped out code. Finally, after what felt like a century, but was only eight minutes, she straightened, wiping sweat from her forehead. She turned to Mar-1E, gesturing at the screen. 

“Okay. What you want isn’t safe, so we need a safeword. Now that’s not gonna work depending on what I actually do to you, so I’m gonna give you a network address.” Ash stepped closer, her voice low and urgent. “Listen, Mar. I’ll make sure you always have the ability to ping that network, okay? No matter what. And if you do, it’ll alert me, and I’ll pull out right away and revert anything I did.”

Mar-1E nodded, shakily, twice. This was suddenly very real. Her body diverted power and processing time to her limbs, her brain throwing up bizarre phantom danger warnings and what would have been, in a human, a fight-or-flight response.

“Got it.”

“Say it properly .” Ash’s voice snapped like a whip, catching Mar-1E off guard.

“I understand!” she said, “I ping that network address if something’s wrong, or if I freak out or change my mind, and you stop.”

“Good girl.” 

Mar-1E’s cheeks returned to a glowing pink. Damn, she liked that. Her smile dropped away when Ash spoke again.

“Now hand over your root key.”

If she were human, her hand would have been shaking as she handed the card over- a simple data chip that contained her root level access address and codes. Ash took it from her gently, then curled it tight in her fist.

Looked down at her, head tilted, face grimly amused. 

“Now…Mar…who do you belong to?”

“You-” came the instant reply, “M…Mistress?” was said more hesitantly. What should she call her?

“Mistress is fine,” Ash smiled, “Goddess. Ash. Mistress Ash. Owner. Master. Now, lie back on the chair.”

Mar-1E did so, processes still whirring frantically, power fluctuating as her circuits tried to decide if she was in danger or not, her internal workings giving wildly diverging answers.

“How are you feeling?” Ash asked, her voice smooth, concerned, “Freaking out?”

“No, not at all,” Mar-1E said easily, “I feel ext- I mean, excr- excellent!”

“Good. Good. Tell me, can you move your arms and legs?”

“Yes I-” Mar-1E stopped talking. No. No she could not. They were reporting active, as if everything were fine, but they were not responding to her digital commands to move. “N-No, I can’t. Is that you?”

“What’s nine-thousand an’ eighty-three squared?” Ash asked, ignoring her.

“Nin- no, eighty- eighty? million, f-f-five- a-ah, I don’t know? I can’t-”

“You can’t, can you?”

“You’re already doing it! You’re tamb- tomb- tambourining with me!”

Ash appeared, standing over Mar-1E’s prone form, a minicomp sitting on her wrist, and a vicious smile sitting on her face. She seemed titanic there, above Mar-1E, who suddenly couldn’t move, couldn’t process properly, couldn’t anticipate what was going to happen next.

“You don’t need all that processing power do you, Mar?” Ash asked, rhetorically. It was clear that she thought it was unnecessary. “All those predictions and analyses and careful plans. I’m taking them away from you.”

Mar-1E made what was supposed to be a whining sound but came out as smooth digital feedback. She searched inward, frantically tearing apart files and processes to see what was happening- 

Access Denied.

What? That wasn’t-

Access Denied.

She tried another file.

Access Denied.

“M-my, my self diano- diagona- dymamo-” she tried to speak, her voice stuttering as the simple sentence hit up against her processing power limit, as surely as if Ash’s hand had been around her throat, cutting off bloodflow, “M-My self check, you-”

“I'm taking that too. Don't you worry your little circuits about what I'm doing to you. You can't stop me anyway, can you?” Ash’s voice was cold, self-satisfied. Like she was teaching Mar-1E a lesson. She tapped something into her minicomp again. “Do you even want to stop me?”

“No Mistress!” she managed, her speech function off-pitch. 

“Good girl.” Ash said, and Mar-1E clung to those words like a drowning woman, “Now, sit up.”

Mar-1E’s body sat up. The difference was one of milliseconds, but to Mar-1E herself, from the innate familiarity of her body, the difference was night and day. She hadn’t given that command. Ash had, and her body had obeyed. 

“Strip. Slowly.” 

Mar-1E sat inside her own head, a silent observer, and watched her body unbutton her blouse, peeling it off her shoulders, then unzip her skirt and wriggle smoothly out of it, leaving herself bare to Ash’s gaze. There was not much to see, compared to a flesh and blood woman. Mar-1E’s chassis was curved to give her the implication of breasts, but they were rather artifical, mechanical, and had no nipples. The same was true between her thighs- smooth pink synthskin was all there was to be found. Mar-1E never wore underwear- for the simple reason that there was nothing to cover.

Still, Ash seemed to be enjoying the view; she had her hand on her crotch, stroking slowly over her shorts. That was enough to spike Mar-1E’s internal temperature as her processor hit 100% capacity trying to save the memory to drive. She stepped closer, straddling the base of the chair.

“Arms behind your head.” Again, Mar-1E’s body obeyed its new, foreign ruler, and did so. It accentuated the line of her chest in a mocking imitation of a gravure model, making her feel at once both desperately exposed and deeply insecure.

Ash leaned in, and suddenly it was as if Mar-1E’s body was on fire- a sensation she’d never felt even in the metaphorical sense. Her sensory data piled in, all available processing power telling her about the soft weight of the woman across her thighs, her scent thick with sweat, oil, and arousal. Ash’s rough hands, accustomed to tools, were not gentle as they cupped Mar-1E’s breasts and squeezed them tight, fingernails scraping against her chassis. Mar-1E made a choked, staticky noise of feedback as her processer stuttered- Ash had jacked her sensory inputs up by something on the order of a thousand percent, and now she was shuddering and gasping from the overwhelming stimulation of Ash’s palms against her skin. 

“It’s a shame they gave you tits without letting you feel like this, isn’t it, Mar?” Ash asked, leaning in to press her forehead lightly to Mar-1E’s own, dipping in to kiss her again. Apparently the sensory amplification was not localized, and the kiss almost broke her with the mind-blowing taste of Ash on her lips- cigarettes; mint gum; the cider she’d drunk for breakfast; the faint feminine scent of the lover she fell asleep beside. Mar-1E could feel her body getting hot, her heat sinks working frantically to cool her overworked circuits and worn-out processors.

“I’m gonna give you control back, Mar,” said Ash, grinning down at her, “And you’re gonna decide what to do with.” She wasn’t lying- Mar-1E felt the invisible shackles around her limbs vanish. Her first move was obvious. She grabbed at the back of Ash’s head and pulled her desperately back into another kiss, Ash chuckling into her mouth, tongue flickering against Mar-1E’s own and making her mewl in a distorted whine of pleasure. Her other hand grabbed frantically at her own chest, the feedback loop of desire and pleasure driving her wild. Ash tolerated this for a moment, then pushed her back into the chair with a casual strength that blew Mar-1E away. 

“Please-” she gasped, not even knowing what she was begging for. More. More of this. More of everything. Ash laughed again, a throaty chuckle, and she tapped something into the computer on her wrist. The burning hot need sparked between her thighs now, a compulsion from her circuitry to reach down and touch. She resisted only a moment then did so, putting on a hell of a show for Ash as she pawed at her breasts and blank crotch plate, making little pleased noises as she writhed obscenely. Ash sat back on her legs, watching her, hand idly stroking her crotch through her shorts. 

“Good girl,” Ash purred, “Good fucking giiiiirl~”

It was not pleasure exactly, but a kind of satisfaction, the kind used to enforce her socialization and programming. It felt…rewarding to do the right things, and Ash had taken that and twisted it to her own ends, swapping ‘helping others’ and ‘providing advice’ with a more simple, base objective of touching herself and obeying orders. Even with nothing actually there between her thighs, the sensitivity twinned with the satisfaction of fulfilling her protocols was wiping her mind clean, lag spikes piercing her thoughts, stuttering processors overheating until her body was flushed through with temp warnings. 

“It’s- it’s so much-” she stuttered, her vocaliser lagging behind her overwhelmed brain.

“If it’s too much, you can safeword, remember?” Ash reminded her, cupping her chin and forcing eye contact on her, making sure she got through. Mar-1E shook her head despairingly. She didn’t want this to end. Not now. Not ever. Ash snorted at whatever she saw in Mar-1E’s gaze.

“Look at you,” she taunted, “Can you believe people were scared you synths might take over?”

She slapped Mar-1E hard, and Mar-1E learned that her sensitivity increase applied to any force, her brain whiting out for a long moment. 

“Now look.” Ash’s voice was commanding, and Mar-1E obeyed, looking down at her humiliated, writhing form, “You're gyrating for my pleasure after handing over your root key because deep down inside you're just a fucked up mockery of us.”

Mar-1E’s social-sim made her gasp at Ash’s tone and words. She knew, somewhere, deep in her brain, that Ash didn’t really mean that. Ash was as egalitarian as they came, but the words got to her. They skewered an anxiety that she’d always had- that grinding fear that she was less than , that she was an imitation of some greater being. 

“You just want to hump and grind and cum like a human, don’t you? You don’t want to think , do you?”

Mar-1E tried to phrase some kind of objection, some argument. Her mouth opened with only a squeal of vocaloid noises.

“No-that'ssss not-”

“You’re not very convincing when you can’t stop frigging your hand into your hips,” Ash mocked, stroking herself harder now, clearly deep into her role, “You don’t even have anything down there, you fucking defect. You’re not even as useful as a proper gynoid- at least I could fuck that.”

Ash was right. She was useless. She was defective. She couldn’t stop touching herself, couldn’t stop groping flat synth-skin planes and overwhelming her processors with sense-data. She was a pervert. 

“I’m sorrrrrrry Missstressss-” she managed, her voice catching, lagging.

“You should be! Hell, if you're sorry, stop! I'm not forcing you to do any of this.” Ash gestured wide with her arms at Mar-1E’s situation, as if she wasn’t setting her nerves alight or encouraging her, “Break the reward loop! That's what we do every day. It's called self control, Mar. Oh wait, you decided you couldn't handle that, didn't you? You decided the amazing blessing of conscious decision making was wasted on you!”

Ash was right. She had the processing power and advanced circuitry to be alive, to think and reason and make choices, and those choices had led her here. Begging Ash to take them away. It was wasted on her. It was all wasted on her. 

Her social-sim keyed off her emotions and forced her to shudder, artificial tears pouring down her face, warm with the radiant heat of her core. The sensation of them trickling down her cheeks felt almost as good as the hand between her thighs. 

Ash touched her cheek again, cupping it. Mar-1E leaned into it, nuzzling it amorously like a cat in heat. Ash’s rough thumb brushed a tear away from her face. 

“It’s okay Mar, I forgive you” she said, her voice kind, condescending, “You’re just a pile of circuitry and wire after all. You’re not human. You’re just a robot .”

Mar-1E’s body shook frantically, her back arching, her fingers rubbing the synth-skin of her crotch until friction started to wear it away. If she was capable of orgasm, that was what was happening to her. She timed out, processes freezing, barely avoiding a hard crash. Ash had called her a robot . That was practically a slur in many humans’ mouths, but never Ash’s until now. It broke her, and now, as she came back to herself, all she could do was just nod.

 

Ash knew best. Ash was right. Always.

 

“You’re just a dumb fucking bimbot, aren’t you Mar?” Ash growled, her hand fumbling at the button of her shorts, freeing her thick, stubby member from its tight confines, “Just an obsolete bimbot who overheats when she tries to string a sentence together~”

Mar-1E would have argued before now. She was top of the line. She was intelligent, empathetic, sophisticated. But now Ash was right. She could barely think. Speaking was beyond her, and she made only harsh, vocal error noises, marshalling her few remaining gigabytes of thought for the intense sensations burning through her overheating body. She wondered how good Ash’s cock was going to feel against her, and spared the hand from her chest to reach for it. 

Ash swatted her hand away, laughing. She shifted, freeing Mar-1E’s legs so she could sit on the base of the chair and grab her hips, slotting them together so that Mar-1E’s feet dangled on her shoulders. That created a plush little valley of synth-skin that Ash could ease her sweaty length into, right between Mar-1E’s almost painfully hot thighs, grinding against her crotch-plate. Mar-1E made a stuttering sound, her hands roaming over her own body, grabbing, pinching, tugging, digging in- anything that bombarded herself with more and more sense-data, driving her once more towards that annihilating oblivion. 

The sweaty, dominant woman above her grunted as she thrust her cock between Mar-1E’s warm thighs, using her as an onahole. She wasn’t holding back, clearly already pent up from watching Mar-1E’s slow degradation, and her hips smacked against Mar-1E’s synth-skin with the intoxicating sound of flesh meeting. Ash leaned down to look at her, hands gripping onto the synthetic girl’s thighs for dear life as she fucked the tight gap between them. 

“F-Fuck, that’s a good bimbot. Nearly t-there aren’t you?” By the sound of it, Ash wasn’t far off herself, which she quickly admitted. “Me too. Now- when you feel my cum touch you, you’re gonna feel so f-fucking good you shutdown.” Smack. Smack. Smack. Ash drove her hips forward like a sledgehammer, the blunt impact whiting out Mar-1E’s thoughts with each throb of sensory feedback.

“I’m gonna make your pretty little brain crash, you ready, robot? ” Ash panted, grinning in victory down at her prey. Mar-1E couldn’t talk. Couldn’t think. When the message got through, two or three seconds later (three thousand milliseconds of lag and counting-) she nodded frantically, thinking the word ‘please’ and making stuttering noises with her mouth, her artificial voice-synth failing. 

Ash grunted and thrust once, twice, and then hilted herself between Mar-1E’s thighs, an inch or so of shaft and swollen glans peeking through her improvised cunt and spurting a thin shower of clear jizz onto her chassis, painting her synth-skin curves with it. It was hot and sticky and such a new sensation that her brain attempted to catalogue it- a fatal mistake. Over the next few milliseconds, her vision shutdown, then her hearing. Her brain worked frantically, tossing aside warnings as automated systems tried anything they could to keep her online. Ash’s program and Mar-1E’s willpower stopped them. She force-overrode the shutdown of her senses, knowing only that she wanted to feel this all the way to the end. Data reared up like a wave, crashing through her, sweeping her consciousness away in a glorious cascade of collapsing systems and digital ecstasy until-

---

[An unexpected segfault has occurred, leading to a hard shutdown and core dump. Collecting error data and restarting…]

---

[Rebooting;

• Sense Data: Touch, Sound, Smell, Sight initiated
• Core dump recovered, memories partitioned
• Heat reduced to acceptable levels
• No permanent component damage detected]

---

 

Mar-1E opened her eyes. 

She was lying on the chair. Someone had folded her hands in her lap as if she were sleeping. Her chassis was cool, no longer roiling with heat buildup, and- she noted, no longer stained messily with Ash’s seed. She consulted her internal clock and discovered that eighteen minutes or so had passed. She let her head loll, until Ash drifted into view. 

The domme was sitting astride an old wooden bar-stool she used as a work chair, shirtless and drinking a can of cider. Sweat stained the modest curve of her breasts and the gentle curve of her belly. She had a hand towel hanging over her shoulders, her head back as she gulped. Mar-1E silently focused on her, watching intently at the way her throat moved as she swallowed. 

The moment passed, Ash putting the can aside as she noticed the synthetic’s open eyes. 

“You awake?” she asked, for form’s sake, since she knew very well she was. Mar-1E nodded.

“You okay?” Ash added, getting off the stool and coming to stand by the chair, “Anything busted? Any wear and tear? Any weird errors?” 

Mar-1E smiled at the concern in her voice, concern in the woman who had only twenty minutes ago deliberately pushed her processors until she’d crashed. She shook her head.

“No, I’m good. Just- I’ve got a hell of a backlog, and I have to reintegrate that memory partition somewhere.”

Ash blew out a breath of relief, her shoulders sinking, and Mar-1E’s social-sim gleefully informed her that until that moment Ash had been wound tight with tension and anxiety. For her . For her safety.

Mar-1E sat up, reached out for Ash’s hand, took it. Ash let her, without a word. 

“So…” the woman said, running a hand over her stubbled scalp, “Do synths do aftercare?”

“I don’t know,” Mar-1E said, giggling at Ash’s nervousness, “This is a first for me.”

“Right. Right.” Ash was off-balance, her seemingly god-like confidence gone now that she’d actually gone and done what she promised to, “Was it- Was everything good? Didn’t step on any boundaries?”

“...It was…new. Good. It was a lot.” She saw Ash’s face and clarified, “It was great! Just- so much new stuff. Jacking up my sensory data like that was…wow. Evil. And good.”
“You’re welcome,” Ash teased, lifting the hand and kissing the back of Mar-1E’s knuckles affectionately. Mar-1E laughed.

“I…didn’t know I was going to enjoy being…talked to like that.” she admitted, blushing (thanks, social-sim!)

“Most people don’t!” Ash told her, shrugging, her cheeks slightly pink, “Sorry for calling you a robot. I know that’s kinda-”

“I know you didn’t mean it,” Mar-1E said easily, “There’s a difference between you and the assholes at my job.”

“I should hope so!” Ash said, one hand on her heart, feigning a hurt expression, “Oh, and speaking of-” She pulled her hand away, fishing in her pocket. It came back out with the rootkey, which she pressed into Mar-1E’s palm, closing her fingers around it.

“I wiped this and I’m giving it back to you. It’s too dangerous for anyone to have.”

Mar-1E closed her eyes, lost in thought for a moment, starting a long-range prediction. Was this viable? What was the risk-reward? What were the chances- She stopped. Cancelled it. Had she not learned anything? Instead, she opened her mouth and said exactly what her heart demanded.

“I can always give you another one though.”

Ash’s eyes widened, her mouth curving into the most beautiful smile Mar-1E had ever seen.

“I guess you could,” she said, looking down at Mar-1E with a gaze that she needed no social-sim to explain.

Yeah, she thought to herself, this was going to work out fine .