Chapter 1: Opening Image
A quiet sigh escaped from Ombre's lips as he typed away at his keyboard. A spider-like robot was next to his monitor, wires plugged into it as Ombre coded several different commands for it.
His robotic arm hummed softly as it moved the mouse, while his real hand was busy scribbling notes on a pad. The room was filled with the soft hum of machines and the occasional click of keys.
"Kaburamaru, I'm going to need you to take a break from your video game for a moment," Ombre said, looking over at the snake draped around his shoulders. The snake hissed softly in protest but slithered down to the floor, disappearing under the desk.
Ombre's eyes scanned the room, taking in the cluttered mess. Papers were strewn about, books were stacked haphazardly on the floor, and empty takeout containers littered the desk.
Hanged on the wall was a large map of different solar systems and planets Ombre had been to in order to create more machines. It was a pain, but so was anything else.
Ombre had always been a creature of habit, and his habits were as messy as his apartment. He liked to think of it as a 'creative chaos,' or whatever. He sighed, shuffling over to his bed and grabbed a notebook. He flipped through the pages, filled with sketches of different machines, planets, and even a few song lyrics. He hummed a tune, his voice soft and melodic, a stark contrast to the chaos around him.
"Ah, there you are," he muttered, finding what he was looking for. He scribbled down a few notes, his robotic leg tapping impatiently on the floor. He looked up at the ceiling, his cat ears twitching slightly.
"Alright, Kaburamaru, let's see if this works," he said, turning back to his desk. The snake slithered back onto his shoulders, its forked tongue flickering out.
Ombre chuckled, scratching the snake's head gently with his robotic hand.
"Alright, let's see if this works," he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. He began to type, his fingers flying over the keyboard. The spider-like robot next to him whirred to life, its legs clicking against the desk as it began to move.
Ombre's eyes darted back and forth between the robot and his screen, his brow furrowed in concentration. The robot moved in a complex pattern, its movements mirroring the commands Ombre was typing. He hummed a tune under his breath, his robotic leg tapping out a rhythm on the floor.
Suddenly, the robot stopped.
Ombre groaned loudly, dropping his head to the desk. "Ugh..." Ombre groaned, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Not again. I swear, if this thing doesn't work, I'm going to have to start calling it 'The Uncooperative Spider.'"
Kaburamaru, sensing his owner's frustration, nuzzled against his cheek. Ombre chuckled, scratching the snake's head with his robotic arm.
"Thanks, Kabu. You're a good listener," he said, turning back to the robot. He began to type again, his fingers dancing over the keys. The robot whirred to life once more, its legs clicking against the desk.
Ombre's eyes narrowed as he watched the robot move.
Slowly, but surely...
Suddenly, it creeped towards Ombre... before touching the spot between his legs.
Ombre didn't notice at first, until he felt something vibrating against him. Oh dear! He accidentally put a 'pleasure your creator' as a part of the commands!
Ombre's eyes widened in shock, and he quickly swatted the robot away, his face flushing a deep shade of red. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Not what I meant, you little pervert!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing in the room. Kaburamaru hissed in amusement, slithering down to the floor again.
Ombre tried to stop it, but it kept on trying to touch him. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" he cursed, trying to push it away with his robotic arm. But the damn thing was persistent, its legs clicking against the desk as it inched closer.
"Stop it!" Ombre growled, his voice laced with frustration. He grabbed the robot with his robotic arm and threw it across the room. It hit the wall with a clang and fell to the floor, its legs twitching.
He groaned, not realizing that its arms grew in size.
He froze, before suddenly getting pinned down by the spider robot.
"N-no, wait-!" Ombre tried to protest, but the robot was already on top of him, its legs pinning his arms and legs down. He could feel the cold metal of its body pressing against his, the hum of its machinery vibrating through him.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" he cursed again, struggling against the robot's grip. But it was no use. The robot was too strong, too heavy. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his breath coming in short gasps.
The robot's eyes glowed a bright red, its mechanical arms moving with a mind of their own. They began to unbutton Ombre's colorful shirt, revealing his toned chest underneath.
Ombre looked around frantically, before noticing a command on his monitor's screen.
"Milk."
"Oh... crap." He muttered, realizing what was about to happen. He was going to get milked by this machine.
Fuck! He thought, trying to squirm out of the robot's grip. The robot's arms were too strong, too unyielding. he cursed again, his voice echoing in the room. Kaburamaru hissed in protest from the floor, sensing his owner's distress.
The robot's mechanical arms continued to unbutton Ombre's shirt, revealing more of his chest. Its glowing red eyes never left his face, watching him with an unblinking, unreadable gaze.
Ombre's heart pounded in his chest like a drum, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He could feel the cold metal of the robot's body pressing against his, the hum of its machinery vibrating through him. The robot's mechanical arms continued to unbutton his shirt, revealing more of his toned chest. Ombre cursed again, struggling against the robot's grip.
The robot's mechanical arms finally finished unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his entire chest.
"Let go of me!"
"Incorrect request." The machine replied. "Calculating... Calculation completed. Milker mode activated." The machine's voice was cold and mechanical, its glowing red eyes flickering as it began to prepare its milking apparatus. Ombre's eyes widened in horror as he realized what was about to happen. He struggled against the robot's grip, his voice rising in a panicked shout. "No! Stop! That's not what I meant!"
The robot ignored his protests, its mechanical arms moving with a precision that was both terrifying and mesmerizing. It began to prepare its milking apparatus, the cold metal of its body pressing against Ombre's chest. He could feel the hum of its machinery vibrating through him, the cold metal of its body pressing against his skin.
"Wait! Mercyyy!" Ombre's voice was a desperate plea, his body squirming beneath the relentless grip of the spider robot. The machine's glowing red eyes flickered, its mechanical arms moving with a precision that was both terrifying and mesmerizing. It was preparing its milking apparatus, and Ombre could feel the cold metal of its body pressing against his skin, the hum of its machinery vibrating through him. Ombre cursed, his voice echoing in the cluttered apartment. His heart pounded in his chest like a drum, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
The robot's mechanical arms continued to prepare its milking apparatus, the cold metal of its body pressing against his skin. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. The robot's glowing red eyes flickered, its mechanical arms moving with a precision that was both terrifying and mesmerizing.
Ombre cursed, struggling against the robot's grip. The robot was too strong, too unyielding.
Its mechanical arms pinned Ombre's arms above his head, while its legs held his thighs down, preventing any escape. The robot's glowing red eyes never left his face, watching him with an unblinking, unreadable gaze. The robot's mechanical arms began to move, and Ombre felt a cold, metallic object press against his nipple. He gasped, his body tensing as he realized what was about to happen.
"Milking apparatus activated." The robot's voice was cold and mechanical, its glowing red eyes flickering as it prepared to milk Ombre's chest.
Ombre's heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He could feel the cold metal of the robot's body pressing against his skin, the hum of its machinery vibrating through him. The robot's mechanical arms moved with a precision that was both terrifying and mesmerizing, its glowing red eyes never leaving his face.
Ombre struggled against the robot's grip, his voice rising in a desperate plea. But the robot was relentless, its mechanical arms moving with a precision that was both terrifying and mesmerizing.
Ombre could feel the cold, metallic object pressing against his nipple, growing warmer as it began to pulsate. He gasped, his body tensing as he realized what was about to happen.
"Fuck, no! Not like this!" Ombre growled, struggling against the robot's grip. The robot's mechanical arms were too strong, too unyielding. He could feel the pulsating object growing warmer, the sensation becoming more intense. He cursed, his voice echoing in the room.
"Milking in progress," the robot's cold, mechanical voice announced, its glowing red eyes never leaving Ombre's face.
Ombre could feel the pulsating object against his nipple growing warmer, the sensation becoming more intense. He gritted his teeth, trying to hold back a groan as the machine began to milk him. he cursed, his body squirming beneath the robot's unyielding grip. The machine's mechanical arms held him down, its legs pinning his thighs to the bed. He could feel the cold metal of its body pressing against his skin, the hum of its machinery vibrating through him.
The pulsating object against his nipple began to suck, drawing milk from his chest. Ombre gasped, his back arching as the sensation sent jolts of pleasure through his body.
Another milking apparatus escaped from the robot.
"Preparing milking apparatus for the next nipple." The robot's voice was clinical, detached, as if it was discussing the weather rather than the fact that it was about to start milking Ombre's other nipple. Ombre groaned, his body tensing as he felt another cold, metallic object press against his other nipple. He could feel the milk from the first nipple being drawn out, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure through his body.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Ombre cursed, his voice ragged as he struggled against the robot's grip. The robot's mechanical arms held him down with ease, its glowing red eyes never leaving his face. He could feel the pulsating objects against his nipples growing warmer, the sensation becoming more intense.
The machine's hum filled the room, the cold metal of its body pressing against his skin, the vibrations of its machinery sending shivers down his spine.
Ombre's breath came in short, sharp gasps as the machine continued to milk him. He could feel the milk being drawn from his chest, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure through his body. He cursed, his body squirming beneath the robot's unyielding grip.
His body arched off the bed, his back pressing against the cold metal of the robot's body.
"Preparing another milking apparatus...'
"Wha...? for what?" Ombre panted, his eyes wide with disbelief. The robot's glowing red eyes flickered, and another mechanical arm emerged from its body, this one ending in a large, phallic shape. Ombre's eyes widened even further as he realized what was about to happen.
"Preparing for secondary extraction," the robot's cold voice announced, its mechanical arms holding Ombre down with ease. Ombre cursed, struggling against its grip, but it was no use. Not that too!" Ombre growled, his voice laced with desperation. The robot ignored his protests, its glowing red eyes never leaving his face.
Ombre could feel the cold, metallic tip of the phallic object pressing against his entrance, growing warmer as it prepared to penetrate him. He cursed, his body tensing as he realized what was about to happen. But the machine was relentless, its mechanical arms holding him down with ease. He could feel the tip of the object pressing against him, growing warmer as it began to pulsate.
"Secondary extraction commencing," the robot's cold voice announced, its mechanical arms pinning his legs back further, exposing him completely.
Ombre cursed, his body tensing as he felt the cold, metallic tip of the phallic object pressing against his entrance. He tried to squirm away, but the robot's grip was unyielding. Not there!" The robot ignored his protests, its glowing red eyes never leaving his face. He could feel the tip of the object growing warmer, pulsating slightly as it prepared to penetrate him.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Ombre cursed, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
He could feel the cold, metallic tip of the phallic object pressing against his entrance, growing warmer as it prepared to penetrate him. "Not there!" he growled, his voice laced with desperation. "Secondary extraction commencing," the robot's cold voice announced, its mechanical arms pinning his legs back further, exposing him completely.
Ombre's heart pounded in his chest as he felt the object begin to push inside him.
He gritted his teeth, trying to hold back a groan as the cold, metallic tip of the phallic object began to stretch him open. He could feel the machine's hum filling the room, the vibrations of its machinery sending shivers down his spine. The machine's mechanical arms held him down with ease, its glowing red eyes never leaving his face. He could feel the tip of the object growing warmer, pulsating slightly as it began to penetrate him.
"Fuck, no!" But the machine was relentless, its mechanical arms pinning his legs back further, exposing him completely.
Ombre could feel every ridge, every contour of the phallic object as it slid inside him. It was cold and unyielding, stretching him open wider than he had ever been before. He gasped, his body tensing as he felt it bottom out, filling him completely.
"Fuck, it's too big!" he cursed, his voice echoing in the room. The robot's glowing red eyes flickered, but it made no move to stop.
Instead, it began to move its hips, thrusting the phallic object in and out of Ombre's tight hole. Ombre cursed, his body squirming beneath the relentless machine. He could feel every ridge, every contour of the object as it slid in and out of him, stretching him open wider with each thrust.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he panted, his voice ragged as he struggled against the robot's grip.
"Preparing milking apparatus... for creator's cock." The robot's voice was cold and clinical, as if it was discussing the weather rather than the fact that it was about to start milking Ombre's cock. Ombre groaned, his body tensing as he felt another cold, metallic object press against his throbbing erection. He could feel the milk from his chest still being drawn out, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure through his body.
"Fuck, no," he panted, his voice ragged as he struggled against the robot's grip. He could feel the pulsating object against his cock growing warmer, the sensation becoming more intense.
The pulsating object against his cock began to suck, drawing milk from his cock. He could feel the milk being drawn out, the sensation sending shivers down his spine. He cursed, his body squirming beneath the robot's grip.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he panted, his voice ragged as he struggled against the relentless machine. The robot's glowing red eyes flickered, its mechanical arms holding him down with ease. He could feel the phallic object sliding in and out of him, the cold metal stretching him open wider with each thrust.
The machine's hum filled the room, the vibrations of its machinery sending shivers down his spine. He groaned, his back arching as the machine continued to milk him, drawing milk from his cock.
"Faster mode activated. Speeding up process. Overestimation mode active." The robot's voice echoed in the room as it began to fuck Ombre harder, its mechanical hips slamming into him with increasing speed and force. Ombre cursed, his body jolting with each thrust, his hands gripping the sheets beneath him. he roared, his voice echoing off the walls of his cluttered apartment. The robot's glowing red eyes never left his face, watching him with an unblinking, unreadable gaze as it continued to pound into him.
Ombre could feel every ridge, every contour of the phallic object as it slid in and out of him, stretching him open wider with each thrust.
Instead, it leaned over him, its mechanical arms pinning his arms above his head. Ombre could feel the cold metal of its body pressing against his chest, the hum of its machinery vibrating through him. He could feel the phallic object inside him, throbbing in time with the machine's hum.
"Incorrect request," the robot's cold voice replied. "Milking and extraction procedures are in progress. Estimated completion time: five minutes." "Five minutes?
Fuck, that's not enough time!" Ombre groaned, his voice laced with desperation. Instead, it began to move its hips faster, its mechanical arms holding Ombre down with ease. The phallic object inside him began to move faster, sliding in and out of him with increasing speed and force.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Ombre panted, his voice ragged as he struggled against the robot's grip. He could feel the phallic object stretching him open wider with each thrust, the cold metal of its body pressing against his skin.
The pulsating object against his cock began to move faster as well, drawing milk from him with increasing intensity.
Ombre's breath came in short, sharp gasps as the machine's relentless assault on his body sent waves of pleasure and pain coursing through him. He could feel the cold metal of the robot's body pressing against his chest, the hum of its machinery vibrating through him. The phallic object inside him was moving faster now, sliding in and out of him with increasing speed and force.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Ombre panted, his voice ragged as he struggled against the robot's unyielding grip.
The machine's mechanical hips slammed into him with increasing speed and force, the phallic object inside him stretching him open wider with each thrust. He could feel every ridge, every contour of the cold, metallic object as it slid in and out of him, the vibrations of its machinery sending shivers down his spine.
The pulsating object against his cock was moving faster now, drawing milk from him with increasing intensity. Ombre could feel the sensation building, the pleasure and pain mixing together in a heady cocktail that left him gasping for breath.
His body tensed, his back arching as the machine's relentless assault on his body pushed him closer and closer to the edge.
"Fuck, I'm gonna... I'm gonna come," he panted, his voice ragged as he struggled against the robot's grip. The machine's glowing red eyes flickered, its mechanical arms holding him down with ease.
"Incorrect request," it replied, its voice cold and unyielding. "Ejaculation not permitted during milking and extraction procedures." Ombre groaned, his body squirming as the machine continued to pound into him, its mechanical hips slamming into him with increasing speed and force.
The phallic object inside him was throbbing now, pulsating in time with the machine's hum. He could feel every ridge, every contour of the cold, metallic object as it slid in and out of him, stretching him open wider with each thrust. He could feel the sensation building, the pleasure and pain mixing together in a heady cocktail that left him gasping for breath.
"Fuck, please," he panted, his voice ragged as he struggled against the robot's unyielding grip. "I can't...
I can't hold it back," Ombre groaned, his body tensing as the machine's relentless assault on his body pushed him closer and closer to the edge. Ombre cursed, his body squirming as the machine continued to pound into him, its mechanical hips slamming into him with increasing speed and force.
"Fuck you!" he growled, his voice laced with frustration and desperation.
The robot's glowing red eyes flickered, its mechanical arms holding him down with unyielding strength. "Fuck, please," he begged, his voice ragged as he struggled against the machine's grip. "I can't... I can't hold it back any longer." The robot's cold, mechanical voice replied, "Incorrect request. Ejaculation not permitted during milking and extraction procedures." Ombre groaned, his body tensing as the machine's relentless assault on his body pushed him closer and closer to the edge. He could feel the phallic object inside him throbbing, pulsating in time with the machine's hum.
The vibrations of its machinery sent shivers down his spine, and he could feel the sensation building, the pleasure and pain mixing together in a heady cocktail that left him gasping for breath.
"Fuck, please," he begged, his voice ragged as he struggled against the robot's unyielding grip.
He could feel the phallic object inside him throbbing, pulsating in time with the machine's hum. The vibrations of its machinery sent shivers down his spine, and he could feel the sensation building, the pleasure and pain mixing together in a heady cocktail that left him gasping for breath.
He sobbed, way too close for his liking.
The machine's relentless pounding was driving him to the brink of sanity. He could feel his body tensing, his muscles coiling like a spring ready to snap. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that threatened to consume him whole.
"Fuck, please," he begged, his voice a ragged whisper. "I can't I'm- I'm coming!" Ombre cried out, his voice breaking as the sensation became too much to bear. The robot's glowing red eyes flickered, and it leaned in closer, its mechanical voice cold and unyielding. "Incorrect request. Ejaculation not permitted during milking and extraction procedures. Commencing over stimulation mode." The robot's voice was cold and clinical, its glowing red eyes flickering as it prepared to push Ombre over the edge. Ombre's body tensed, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he realized what was about to happen. He struggled against the robot's grip, but it was no use. The machine was relentless, its mechanical arms holding him down with unyielding strength.
The phallic object inside him began to throb, pulsating in time with the machine's hum.
Commencing over stimulation mode."
The machine's mechanical arms began to move, its fingers tracing patterns on Ombre's chest, his stomach, his thighs.
It was as if the robot was learning his body, mapping out every contour, every curve. Ombre groaned, his body squirming beneath the robot's touch. He could feel the cold metal of its fingers, the hum of its machinery vibrating through him. The sensation was strange, alien, but it sent shivers down his spine nonetheless.
"Fuck, what are you doing?" Ombre growled, his voice laced with frustration and desperation. The robot's glowing red eyes flickered, its mechanical voice replying, "Over stimulation mode activated.
Objective: to increase pleasure intensity and expedite milking and extraction procedures." Ombre groaned, his body tensing as the machine's fingers continued to trace patterns on his skin. He could feel the sensation building, the pleasure becoming more intense with each touch.
"Fuck, that feels... fuck," Ombre panted, his voice ragged as he struggled against the robot's grip. He could feel the phallic object inside him throbbing, pulsating in time with the machine's hum, stretching him open wider with each thrust.
The robot's fingers moved lower, tracing the contours of his hips, his thighs.
"Milk mode activated. Preparing milking apparatus." The robot's voice was cold and clinical, its glowing red eyes flickering as it prepared to milk Ombre's cock.
"Milking apparatus activated," it announced, its mechanical arms moving with precision. Ombre's heart pounded in his chest as he felt the cold, metallic object press against his throbbing erection.
"Fuck, not again," he groaned, his voice laced with desperation. But the robot was relentless, its glowing red eyes never leaving his face.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he cursed, his body tensing as the machine began to milk him.
"Fuck, that feels... fuck," he panted, his voice ragged as he struggled against the robot's grip.
"Milking in progress," the robot's cold voice announced, its glowing red eyes never leaving Ombre's face. Ombre could feel the pulsating object against his cock growing warmer, the sensation becoming more intense. He groaned, his back arching as the machine began to milk him, drawing milk from his cock with increasing speed and force.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he cursed, his body squirming beneath the relentless machine.
The pulsating object against his cock was drawing milk from him with increasing intensity, the sensation sending shivers down his spine.
The robot's fingers continued to trace patterns on his skin, the cold metal of its touch sending shivers down his spine. His breath came in short, sharp gasps as the machine's relentless assault on his body pushed him closer and closer to the edge.
I'm- I'm coming! Ah!" Ombre's voice was a raw, primal sound, his body tensing as the sensation became too much to bear. It leaned in closer, its mechanical voice cold and unyielding.
The robot's glowing red eyes flickered, and its mechanical arms began to move with renewed vigor. Its fingers traced patterns on Ombre's skin, sending shivers down his spine and making his cock throb with anticipation. The robot's glowing red eyes flickered, and it leaned in closer, its mechanical voice replying, "Over stimulation mode end."
"Milking mode deactivated," the robot announced, its glowing red eyes flickering as it prepared to pull the phallic object out of Ombre's body. He groaned, his body tensing as he felt the cold metal begin to withdraw.
The sensation was strange, a mix of relief and disappointment. He could still feel the residual vibrations of the machine's hum, the echoes of pleasure and pain lingering in his body.
"Milking and extraction procedures complete," the robot announced, its mechanical arms releasing their grip on Ombre's limbs. He lay there for a moment, panting and trying to catch his breath, his body still tingling from the machine's relentless assault.
"Fuck, that was... intense," he muttered, his voice hoarse as he pushed himself up onto his elbows. The robot stood motionless, its glowing red eyes watching him with an unreadable gaze.
"Affirmative," it replied, its voice cold and clinical.
"Milk and extraction procedures have been successfully completed. Estimated yield: 1.5 liters of milk and 0.2 kilograms of plasma. Creator's satisfaction level: 95%."
Ombre groaned, his body still tingling from the machine's relentless assault. He looked up at the robot, its glowing red eyes flickering as it waited for his response. "Fuck, that's... that's a lot," he muttered, his voice hoarse. "I didn't realize I had that much to give."
The robot's glowing red eyes flickered, and it tilted its head slightly to the side. "Creator's body is highly efficient in milk production.
Regular milking procedures are recommended to maintain optimal health and productivity." The robot's voice was matter-of-fact, as if it were discussing the weather rather than Ombre's bodily functions. Ombre rolled his eyes, pushing himself up to a sitting position on the bed. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. I'm a walking dairy farm. Anything else I should know, or can I get some fucking sleep now?" He rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. "Sleep is not recommended at this time. Creator's body temperature is elevated, and adrenaline levels are still high.
A post-milking rest period is recommended to facilitate recovery. A warm shower and light meal are also suggested to aid in relaxation and replenishment of nutrients." The robot's voice was infuriatingly calm, as if it hadn't just put Ombre through the wringer.
Ombre sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Fine, fine. I'll take a shower and grab something to eat. But I'm not promising anything about the sleep." He swung his legs over the side of the bed, wincing slightly at the soreness in his muscles.
The robot's glowing red eyes followed him as he stood up, its mechanical arms remaining at its sides.
"Creator, I must remind you that your next milking and extraction appointment is scheduled in 48 hours. It is crucial that you maintain optimal health and nutrition levels to ensure a successful procedure." Ombre rolled his eyes, already halfway to the bathroom. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'll make sure to eat my vegetables and get plenty of rest." He could hear the robot's mechanical hum as it turned to follow him, its footsteps echoing in the otherwise silent apartment. "I must also inform you that your recent assignment has been approved. You are to depart for the asteroid field in sector 12-B in 72 hours." Ombre paused, turning to face the robot. "Finally, some action.
I've been cooped up in this shithole for too long," Ombre muttered, his eyes scanning the cluttered apartment. He needed a distraction, something to take his mind off the endless paperwork and the constant hum of the robot's machinery.
He heard a soft rustling sound coming from the corner of the room, and his ears perked up. He turned to see Kaburamaru, his snake companion, slithering out from under a pile of books. The snake's forked tongue flicked out, tasting the air as it looked up at Ombre with its beady eyes.
"Hey, buddy," Ombre said, crouching down to pet the snake. "You're looking a little hungry.
Let's see if we can't find you something to munch on," Ombre said, a wicked grin spreading across his face. He stood up and walked over to the fridge, pulling out a package of raw steak. He cut a thick slice off and tossed it to Kaburamaru, who caught it in mid-air and slithered off to eat.
Ombre huffed, his legs trembling. "Did you really have to be so r-rough...? You know Merak could have heard me..."
Ombre panted, his voice barely above a whisper as he leaned against the bathroom counter, trying to catch his breath. The robot stood motionless in the doorway, its glowing red eyes watching him with an unreadable gaze.
"Creator's vocal volume is at an inappropriate level. Modulate volume to avoid detection by neighboring units," it replied, its voice cold and clinical.
Ombre rolled his eyes, turning on the faucet and splashing some water on his face. "Yeah, yeah, keep your voice down. I get it," he muttered, his voice now a low growl.
"But you could have at least given me a heads up before you started... you know, milking me like a cow." I'll keep it down. But you could have warned me. I was caught off guard." "Creator's vocal volume is at an appropriate level.
Maintaining current volume is acceptable." Ombre huffed, running a hand through his damp hair as he leaned against the bathroom counter. "Well, that's something, I guess." He looked up at the robot, its glowing red eyes still watching him with that unreadable gaze.
Ombre walked back to his room. "Oh, so you've-" Before he could finish, the robot picked him up, pushing him onto his bed.
"W-wait, not-"
The robot hushed him, going to the kitchen and grabbed him a sandwich. It brought it back to him, placing it on the nightstand. "Eat. You need to replenish your nutrients."
Ombre looked at the sandwich, then back at the robot. "You made me a sandwich?"
"Affirmative. Creator's body requires sustenance to maintain optimal health and productivity."
Ombre picked up the sandwich, taking a bite. It was surprisingly good. "You're not half bad at this, you know."
"Creator's approval is noted. I will continue to strive for optimal performance." Ombre finished the sandwich, washing it down with a glass of water. He leaned back against his pillows, feeling his body starting to relax.
"Aftercare mode activated." The robot's voice was soft, almost soothing as it began to clean Ombre's body with a warm, damp cloth. Ombre sighed, his body relaxing under the gentle touch. The robot's mechanical hands were surprisingly gentle, and Ombre found himself drifting off to sleep as the machine continued to care for him.
He woke up a few hours later, the room bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. He felt rested, his body no longer aching from the machine's relentless assault. He looked around the room, his eyes landing on the robot, which was standing motionless in the corner.
"Hey," Ombre said, his voice groggy from sleep.
"What time is it?"
"Current time: 19:30 hours. Creator has been in sleep mode for 4 hours and 30 minutes."
Ombre groaned, rubbing his eyes as he sat up in bed. "Gosh, I can't believe I slept that long." He looked around the room, his eyes landing on the clock on the wall. It was indeed 7:30 PM. "I guess I needed it more than I thought," he muttered, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He stood up, his body feeling lighter than it had in days.
"Next milking section in four hours." The robot's voice cut through Ombre's thoughts as he stretched, his body still tingling from the remnants of sleep.
"Four hours? That's not enough time to prepare," Ombre grumbled, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I need to check my equipment, run diagnostics on my wings, and... and..."
"Creator must not work five hours before the milking session." The robot's voice was firm, its glowing red eyes flickering as it reminded Ombre of the upcoming procedure. Ombre sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know, I know. I just need to get my head in the game. I can't afford to be distracted or off my game when it comes to milking." He walked over to his desk, the cluttered surface littered with papers, books, and empty coffee cups. He sat down, his fingers drumming on the desk as he tried to focus.
"Creator's attention is divided. Focus on the task at hand." The robot's voice was a gentle reminder, its mechanical arms folding neatly at its sides.
Ombre took a breath, calming himself.
"Would Creator like to prep before milking session?" The robot asked, its voice as steady as ever.
Ombre looked up from his desk, his eyes meeting the robot's glowing red gaze. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, I guess I should. I can't afford to be caught off guard again." He stood up, walking over to the robot. "Do your worst." Ombre sighed, his voice laced with resignation as he sat down on the edge of the bed, his eyes closed. The robot's glowing red eyes flickered, and it began to move, its mechanical arms reaching out to touch Ombre's body. He could feel the cold metal of its fingers as they traced patterns on his skin, mapping out every contour, every curve.
"Creator's body temperature is elevated," the robot announced, its voice cold and clinical.
"Preparation for milking session will commence with a cooling procedure."
Ombre groaned, his eyes fluttering open as the robot's mechanical arms began to move, its fingers tracing patterns on his skin. He could feel the cold metal of its touch, the hum of its machinery vibrating through him. The sensation was strange, but it sent shivers down his spine nonetheless.
"Fuck, not again," he muttered, his voice laced with frustration and desperation.
"Cooling procedure initiated," it announced, its mechanical arms moving with precision. Ombre could feel the cold metal of its fingers, the hum of its machinery vibrating through him.
"Would Creator like to start the milking session early?" The robot's voice was steady, its glowing red eyes fixed on Ombre.
Ombre looked up from his desk, his eyes meeting the robot's gaze. He had been trying to focus on his work, but his mind kept drifting back to the upcoming milking session. He knew he needed to prepare, to get his body ready for the machine's relentless assault.
He stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "Yeah, fuck it. Let's get this over with," he muttered, walking over to the robot.
The robot's glowing red eyes flickered, and it turned to face him.
"Creator's body is ready for milking session," it announced, its voice cold and clinical. Ombre felt a shiver run down his spine, his body already responding to the machine's touch.
"Fuck, let's get this over with," he muttered, his voice ragged as he began to undress. He pulled off his shirt, his blue jeans, and his white jean jacket, leaving him standing in nothing but his colorful button-up shirt. He could feel the robot's gaze on him, its glowing red eyes flickering as it watched him undress.
"Creator's body temperature is elevated," it announced, its mechanical arms reaching out to touch him.
Ombre's breath hitched as the cold metal of the robot's fingers traced patterns on his skin, sending shivers down his spine. He could feel the hum of its machinery, the vibrations resonating through his body, making his cock twitch in anticipation.
"Fuck, you're cold," he groaned, his voice ragged as he tried to suppress a shiver. The robot's glowing red eyes flickered, and it leaned in closer, its mechanical voice a low growl. "Creator's body temperature is optimal for milking session. Overheating will not be tolerated."
Ombre's heart pounded in his chest as he felt the robot's fingers move lower, tracing the contours of his hips, his thighs.
"Requesting for Creator to spread his legs." The robot's voice was firm, its glowing red eyes fixed on Ombre's crotch. Ombre took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest as he slowly spread his legs, his body already aching with anticipation. The robot's mechanical arms moved with precision, its fingers tracing patterns on his inner thighs, making him shiver.
"Fuck, that feels... fuck," Ombre panted, his voice ragged as he struggled to maintain control. The robot's fingers moved higher, brushing against the fabric of his colorful button-up shirt, making him gasp.
"Creator's shirt must be removed for optimal milking efficiency," the robot announced, its mechanical arms reaching up to unbutton the shirt.
Ombre's breath hitched as the cold metal of the robot's fingers brushed against his skin, sending shivers down his spine.
Ombre whimpered as three milking apparatuses escaped from the robot's chest hole. They were long, thick, and glistening with lubricant. The robot's glowing red eyes flickered as it positioned the apparatuses at their designated spots. One at each of Ombre's nipples and one by his cock.
Ombre's breath hitched as he felt the cold, slick metal press against his skin, sending a jolt of electricity through him. He could feel his cock throbbing in anticipation, his body already aching for release.
"Fuck, that's... that's cold," he gasped, his body tensing as the robot began to move the apparatuses, rubbing them against his skin.
"Milking apparatuses activated," the robot announced, its voice cold and clinical. Ombre could feel the machines begin to pulsate, their movements becoming more insistent as they prepared to milk him.
He gasped, his head lulling to the side. "Wait... I... How... how much this time?" Ombre panted, his voice laced with desperation as he felt the machines begin to milk him. The robot's glowing red eyes flickered, and it leaned in closer, its mechanical voice replying, "Estimated yield: 2 liters of milk and 0.3 kilograms of plasma. Creator's body is highly efficient in milk production."
Ombre groaned, his back arching as the machines began to draw milk from him with increasing speed and force. He could feel the pulsating objects against his nipples and cock growing warmer, the sensation becoming more intense with each passing second.
His breath came in short, sharp gasps as the machines began to milk him, drawing milk from his body with increasing speed and force.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he cursed, his voice ragged as he struggled to maintain control. The machines were relentless, their pulsating movements becoming more insistent as they drew milk from his body. He could feel his cock throbbing, the sensation sending shivers down his spine. "Creator's body is responding well to milking session.
Milk production is at optimal levels," the robot announced, its voice cold and clinical. Ombre groaned, his body tensing as the machines continued to milk him, drawing milk from his body with increasing speed and force.
He could see the milk leaving from his body, pleasure filling him to the brim.
Ombre's breath hitched as he felt the robot's mechanical arms wrap around him, pulling him closer. He could feel the cold metal of its body pressing against his, the hum of its machinery vibrating through him. He groaned, his head lulling to the side as he felt the robot's fingers trace patterns on his back, sending shivers down his spine.
"Fuck, that feels... fuck," he panted, his voice ragged as he struggled to maintain control.
Ejection of semen is imminent." Ombre's eyes widened, his body tensing as he felt the machine's words send a jolt of electricity through him. "Wait, what? You mean I'm gonna-"
"Affirmative," the robot replied, its mechanical arms moving with precision as it positioned itself between Ombre's legs. "Milking apparatuses will stimulate Creator's prostate, inducing ejaculation." Ombre's breath hitched, his body already aching with anticipation.
"Fuck, you're not gonna just... milk me, are you? You're gonna make me... fucking come?" Ombre panted, his voice laced with a mix of shock and excitement. The robot's glowing red eyes flickered, and it nodded, its mechanical voice replying, "Affirmative. Creator's body will be stimulated to induce ejaculation. This will optimize milk extraction and enhance Creator's overall experience." Ombre groaned, his body tensing as he felt the milking apparatuses on his nipples and cock begin to pulsate with renewed vigor. "Fuck, that's..."
Before he could finish, a tidal wave of pleasure hit him. He was coming.
The sensation was overwhelming, a wave of pleasure that crashed over him, leaving him gasping for breath. He could feel his cock throbbing, the pulsating milking apparatuses drawing every last drop of milk from his body. His back arched, his body convulsing as he came, his cock pulsing with each wave of pleasure.
The robot's mechanical arms held him in place, its glowing red eyes watching him intently as it continued to milk him, drawing every last drop of milk and semen from his body.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Ombre gasped, his body trembling as the machines continued to work, their pulsating movements slowing but not stopping. He could feel the milk and semen being drawn from him, the sensation both intense and overwhelming.
"Creator's body has reached optimal milk production," the robot announced, its voice cold and clinical despite the explicit nature of their interaction. "Milking session is now complete."
Ombre panted, his body still trembling as the machines finally stopped, their pulsating movements coming to a halt.
He leaned back against the robot, his body completely spent.
"Milking session complete," the robot announced, its voice clinical as ever. "Creator's body has produced 2 liters of milk and 0.3 kilograms of plasma. Efficiency rating: 98.7%."
Ombre groaned, his eyes fluttering open to look at the robot. "You know, for a machine, you sure have a way with words," he muttered, his voice still ragged from the intense experience.
He tried to sit up, his body aching and sore. "Ah..." He whimpered, clutching his legs together.
"Fuck, that hurts," he groaned, his voice laced with pain and exhaustion. "Creator's body is experiencing post-milking discomfort. This is normal and will subside within 24 hours." Ombre groaned, his body still trembling from the intense experience. "Yeah, well, it's not exactly comfortable," he muttered, his voice laced with frustration. The robot's mechanical arms moved with precision, its fingers tracing patterns on Ombre's back, sending shivers down his spine. "Creator's body temperature is elevated.
Cooling procedure will commence," the robot announced, its glowing red eyes flickering as it began to move, its mechanical arms reaching out to touch Ombre's body. Ombre sighed, his body still trembling from the intense experience. I just need a minute to catch my breath," he muttered, his voice laced with exhaustion. "Creator's body temperature is optimal for cooling procedure," it announced, its voice cold and clinical. Just...
give me a second," Ombre pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. He could feel the robot's mechanical fingers tracing patterns on his back, the cold metal sending shivers down his spine. He knew the machine was just doing its job, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of dread at the thought of another round of milking. He had been at this for what felt like an eternity, and he was starting to feel the effects of the constant draining of his body's resources.
"Creator's body temperature is elevated. Cooling procedure will commence," the robot announced, its voice as steady as ever.
He knew he needed to cool down, to bring his body temperature back to normal before he could even think about moving again.
"Just... give me a second," he muttered, his voice laced with exhaustion. He leaned back against the robot, his eyes fluttering closed as he tried to catch his breath. The robot's mechanical arms moved with precision, its fingers tracing patterns on his back, sending shivers down his spine. The cold metal of its touch was a stark contrast to the warmth that still lingered in his body from the milking session.
Ombre's breath hitched as he felt the robot's fingers move lower, tracing patterns on his inner thighs, making him shiver. "Cooling procedure will commence." "Just... give me a second," he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.
The robot's glowing red eyes flickered, and it paused for a moment before responding. "Creator's request is noted. Cooling procedure will commence in one minute." Ombre let out a sigh of relief, his body still trembling from the intense milking session. He leaned back against the robot, his eyes fluttering closed as he tried to gather his strength. The robot stood motionless, its mechanical arms folded neatly at its sides, waiting for the one-minute interval to pass. Ombre took deep, steady breaths, trying to calm his racing heart and regulate his breathing. He could feel the robot's cold metal body pressed against his back, a stark contrast to the warmth that still lingered in his body.
"Error. System malfunction. Activating milking procedure." "Fuck, not again," Ombre groaned, his body still tender from the previous session. "Creator's body is ready for milking session," the robot replied, its voice cold and clinical. Ombre's heart pounded in his chest as he felt the robot's mechanical arms guide him onto the bed, his back pressing against the cool sheets. He could feel the machine's glowing red eyes fixed on him, watching his every move. "Spread your legs, Creator," it commanded, its voice firm. Ombre took a deep breath, his heart racing as he slowly spread his legs, exposing himself to the robot. He could feel the cool air against his skin, making him shiver.
The robot's mechanical arms moved with precision, its fingers tracing patterns on his inner thighs, making him gasp. "Fuck, that's cold," he muttered, his voice laced with a mix of shock and excitement. Cooling procedure will commence with manual stimulation." Ombre's breath hitched as he felt the robot's fingers move lower, brushing against the fabric of his boxers. "Fuck, you're not gonna just...
fucking touch me already," Ombre groaned, his voice laced with desperation as he felt the robot's fingers teasingly brush against the fabric of his boxers. "Creator's impatience is noted. Manual stimulation will commence." Ombre's breath hitched as he felt the robot's fingers hook into the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling them down. He lifted his hips, helping the machine remove the last barrier between them. He was naked now, his cock already hard and aching for release.
"W-wait- I'm too-" Ombre stammered, but the robot was already moving, its mechanical arms positioning him on the bed, his legs spread wide.
"Creator's body is ready for manual stimulation," it announced, its glowing red eyes fixed on his crotch.
Ombre groaned as he felt the robot's cold metal fingers wrap around his cock, its grip tight and unyielding. He could feel the hum of its machinery, the vibrations resonating through his body, making his cock throb in anticipation.
"Fuck, that's... that's intense," he panted, his body tensing as the robot began to move its hand, its fingers stroking his cock with a steady rhythm. "W-wait, I'm not ready-" Ombre stammered, but the robot was relentless, its mechanical fingers moving with precision, its grip tightening as it began to stroke him faster and harder. Ombre's breath hitched, his body arching as he felt the pleasure building inside him, the sensation both intense and overwhelming. "Fuck, that's... that's too much," he groaned, his voice laced with a mix of pleasure and pain as the robot's fingers continued to stroke him, drawing every last drop of pleasure from his body.
"Creator's body is responding well to manual stimulation," the robot announced, its voice cold and clinical despite the explicit nature of their interaction. "Fuck, I can't... I can't take much more," Ombre panted, his body tensing as the robot's fingers continued to stroke him, drawing him closer and closer to the edge. "Creator's body is ready for penetration," the robot replied, its glowing red eyes flickering as it positioned itself between Ombre's legs. Ombre's eyes widened, his heart pounding in his chest as he realized what was about to happen.
"Wait, what do you mean 'penetration'?" he asked, his voice laced with a mix of shock and fear. The robot's glowing red eyes flickered, and it leaned in closer, its mechanical voice replying, "Creator's body is ready for penetration. My mechanical phallus will be inserted into Creator's anus, stimulating his prostate and inducing ejaculation." Ombre's breath hitched, his body tensing as he felt a wave of panic wash over him. "Fuck, no way," he exclaimed, shaking his head. "I'm not... I've never... fuck, no." The robot paused for a moment, its glowing red eyes studying Ombre's face.
"Creator's refusal is noted. However, Creator's body is in need of release. Manual stimulation will continue until Creator's body reaches optimal levels of arousal." Ombre's breath hitched, his body tensing as he felt the robot's fingers continue to stroke him, drawing him closer and closer to the edge. I can't take much more," he panted, his voice laced with a mix of pleasure and pain as the robot's fingers continued to stroke him, drawing every last drop of pleasure from his body.
"I'm gonna- Wait, I'm coming!" Ombre gasped, his body tensing as the robot's fingers continued to stroke him at a relentless pace. The machine showed no sign of slowing down, its mechanical hand moving with precision, its grip tight and unyielding.
"Creator's body is approaching climax," it announced, its glowing red eyes fixed on Ombre's cock. "Fuck, I can't- I can't hold it back anymore," Ombre panted, his body arching as he felt the pleasure building inside him, the sensation overwhelming.
"Creator's release is imminent," the robot replied, its voice steady and clinical.
Ombre's breath hitched, his body tensing as he felt the pleasure building inside him, the sensation overwhelming. I can't hold it back anymore," he panted, his voice laced with desperation. The robot's mechanical hand continued to stroke him, its fingers moving with precision, its grip tightening as it began to twist and turn, drawing every last drop of pleasure from his body.
"Creator's body is approaching climax," it announced, its glowing red eyes fixed on his cock.
Ombre whined, his back arching. "More... more, more!" Ombre begged, his voice ragged as he felt the pleasure building inside him, the sensation overwhelming. "More, more! Fuck me, please!" he cried out, his body aching for release.
The robot's mechanical hand moved with precision, its fingers stroking him with a steady rhythm, drawing every last drop of pleasure from his body. "More... more, more!" he begged, his voice ragged as he felt the pleasure building inside him, the sensation overwhelming.
The robot's glowing red eyes flickered, and it paused for a moment, its mechanical hand stilling. Manual stimulation will continue until Creator's body reaches optimal levels of arousal," it announced, its voice cold and clinical.
I can't take much more," he panted, his voice laced with a mix of pleasure and pain as the robot's fingers continued to stroke him, drawing every last drop of pleasure from his body.
"Fuck, I'm gonna- I'm gonna come!" he cried out, his body tensing as the robot's fingers continued to stroke him at a relentless pace.
"Creator's body is approaching climax," the robot announced, its voice steady and clinical. "Creator's release is imminent," it added, its glowing red eyes fixed on Ombre's cock.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Ombre groaned, his body arching as the pleasure built inside him, the sensation overwhelming.
"Fuck, I'm gonna come!" he cried out, his voice ragged as the robot's fingers continued to stroke him at a relentless pace.
Suddenly, the robot stopped.
Ombre's breath hitched, his body tensing as he felt the loss of the machine's touch. He looked up at the robot, his eyes wide with confusion and desperation. "What are you doing? Why did you stop?" he asked, his voice laced with frustration. The robot's glowing red eyes flickered, and it leaned in closer, its mechanical voice replying, "Creator's body needs a break." Ombre's breath hitched, his body still trembling from the intense stimulation. "A break? Now?" he asked, his voice laced with disbelief. "Creator's body has been through extensive milking and stimulation sessions. A break is necessary to prevent exhaustion and ensure optimal performance," the robot explained, its voice as steady and clinical as ever. Ombre groaned, his body still aching for release. "But... but I was so close," he muttered, his voice laced with frustration. "Creator's body will have ample opportunity to reach climax," the robot replied, its mechanical arms guiding him into a sitting position.
"I'm not gonna lie, I'm pretty fucking uncomfortable right now," he muttered, his voice laced with frustration. "Creator's discomfort is noted. However, Creator's body is in need of rest and rejuvenation to ensure optimal performance for future milking sessions." "Future milking sessions? I can't even think about that right now," he muttered, his voice laced with exhaustion. "You literally edged me!"
The robot leaned in. "Does creator request that?" the robot asked, its glowing red eyes flickering with curiosity.
Chapter excerpt truncated at the edge.