"Macchine"
Inside the large conference room, the leaders of GENOM sat, including the CEO's adopted daughter and chief of internal security, the scared faced woman known simply as 'Kabuki', mesmerized at the pictures on the wall as they listened to Dr. Hiro Hitashi proceed to describe and show a video demonstration of the company's newest Boomer prototype, "Good morning ladies and gentlemen, my name is Dr. Hiro Hitashi, I am the chief researcher on the prototype interrogation robot we have code named simply- Macchine."
"A tapping ring: a small, precise hammer striking a perfectly milled steel cotter pin. The smell of shaved steel and machine oil, a dark, musty but sharp scent. Brilliant platinum halogen lights try to penetrate the thick darkness of the cavernous room, but light is sucked away; the room's corners are invisible. The lights seem lonely, frightened, by the immensity of the cold, hangar-sized space. They huddle around the workspace, where a small, elderly, balding man hunches over a tiny mechanical assembly, his eyes obscured by a grey metal magnifying visor. Above the man, the great beast slumbers, menacing, dominating, drawing his gaze, sucking the light into itself as if its gunmetal-steel hide is made of shadow."
"For sixteen months it has grown from a base skeleton, to flesh and organ and carapace, ultimately growing into a dark consciousness in this concrete and steel cavern. If I am its father, the little man below is its mother, crafting it lovingly, gear and bone and sinew. He is Havel, a master machinist and a genius of industrial design. He is unique in the world."
"Men must have obsessions; men are, in many ways, defined by their obsessions. It determines their self, their style, their character, their color. Havel's obsession was perfect machines: machines that interlock and fit without play or squeak, gears that lock with a solid *snap*, perfect-folding hinges and tensioned springs. My father's obsession was money, a bland and boring habit but one which left me wealthy beyond care. My own obsessions were sex and power. Our obsessions have now been smelted together in this entity: a blending of wealth, mechanical craft, and raw sexual power."
"Macchine"
"Starting at first as a typical small-minded idea, a seed of lust, it has now grown to something beyond art, beyond industrial craft, beyond function. No longer purely machine, it had begun to form its own personality: dark, brooding, single-minded and more obsessive than its creators. Macchine has but one purpose, which I am sure you will find entertaining to watch, as on the screen you see it empty, waiting for its prey."
"Macchine is a mecha created from obsession, art, craft, and lust: all directed and focused, but at what? For me, the missing ingredient was the muse. The inspiration. The prey. Which I soon found. Her name was Yoko, and she, like Macchine, was a force of nature, a creature beyond mortal. They were two halves of a whole."
"For me, Yoko was the perfect submissive. Like a raging fire demanding to be quenched, she burned in perfection, challenging all she saw. I had lasted longer than any of her previous lovers, probably because she saw my obsession and its possibilities. But I was mortal, and would eventually fail to meet her need, and be consumed in the flames."
"I remember times, wielding the whip, lashing across her back and bottom with all my strength, leaving welts deeper and deeper until the blood flowed. I would finally crack, frightened of what she could drive me to; stop without saying a word, amazed that only the barest whimpers escaped from her lips. She would turn those bottomless eyes to me, pleading for something no human being could ever give. To Yoko, a safe word was simply an insult, accepted by her as a favor to her current top. I could scream insults, filthy cunt, selfish bitch, worthless slut, they were absorbed and burned in her dark fire. She became all those things, as ordered, and transcended them all. I would have her ride the escalator at the mall, order her to hike up her skirt and fuck herself with a large dildo for the viewing pleasure of the following shoppers. She would do it without complaint, bringing herself to orgasm in front of those shocked and titillated eyes, without ever blushing."
"And always she needed more"
"The idea of a machine to top her, to beat her, to bind and twist her body more powerfully than any man could do, was an idea born as much of desperation than lust. But the idea swelled, sprouted, grew roots that locked deep in my soul, with a speed that terrified me. I could not sleep; my painting and music came to be trivial distractions. Even Yoko herself became secondary to my new obsession. It had to be tried."
"Thanks to the generosity of my GENOM benefactors, money was no obstacle at all; however, my first attempts to hire a machinist and artisan were disappointing; some laughed, some hid greed under politeness, others tried to cheapen or commercialize the vision. It was not until I found Havel that the seed was truly planted. And then, what grew from that seed was far beyond my original vision. It was not a machine at all.
"It was Macchine!"
"When my project first started, Yoko expressed only a mild curiosity when I starting making plaster casts of her body parts. Her body was mine to do with as I pleased, for so long as the idea pleased her. When she became bored, she would vanish, change her identity, as she had done so often before. But perhaps the curiosity helped me to hold her a little longer. What did I have in mind? We had played corsets and stays, rubber suits and other wrappings. But she saw the fire, the intensity in my eyes, my aura of excitement -- she would not leave, even though our play sessions became less frequent and intense. The casting itself became our play sometimes: shaving and wrapping a perfect limb with the warm cheese cloths, the dusty smell of plaster, the heat of drying turning her skin bright red; and later, licking the sweat off her flesh as the mold cured beside the bed. I never told her my purpose, of course, but she knew it was something special."
"Crafting the flexible model of her body took three months by itself. It was quite realistic; I found myself, at times, stroking its pliable rubber surface and actually feeling Yoko's skin. Later, when Macchine's early clumsiness would break a limb or punch an inappropriate hole, I would cringe inside, feeling nausea and terror."
"Around the model, Macchine began to take shape. First the hinged beams and custom metal clasps, then the support frames and bearings, then the complex probes and pumps, sexual organs for a creature of pure lust and fantasy. Macchine was *big*, bigger than I'd ever imagined. Havel would have no thin rods, sagging supports, or underpowered mechanics; he used earth-mover technology and absurd amounts of torque capacity. Macchine could have manipulated a dummy made of hardened steel as easily as our plastic and rubber model. But Havel was equally masterful working with 10-inch thick steel beams as he was with Swiss watch components. In his hands, a steel pipe became bone, a hydraulic shock sinew, a giant electric motor a pulsing heart. And his combinations of tiny stepper motors, scale hinges and miniature elastic belts could turn several hundred hard steel parts into a sinuous, curved, living organ -- with eighty to a hundred horsepower of torque behind it."
"We discussed motions, watching computer simulations for hours; Macchine would not be a jerky, pumping, spastic machine, but a creature of slow, inexorable, sensuous strength. It would be completely unyielding, totally in control, bristling with untapped power. Yoko would be always poised on the edge of death and mutilation by a beast that could snap her body into nine or ten parts in an instant; but it would also be a trained beast, slowly performing my ritual of dominance and intense alien mating."
"We discussed appearance. For a time, we worked with E. R. Giger of Alien fame, but his visions were too insectile and impractical. We found another, less known, sculptor and artist to assist. Macchine became reptilian, rounded and sleek, but never using soft materials. Always, we used thick gunmetal plates, hammered, beveled, and burnished. It came alive, gradually rousing from deep slumber. Even without the motors running, without the strange, obscene hunching and stretching motions of the practice programs, Macchine seemed to breathe softly, waiting."
"And finally, the artist was dismissed, his visions having become part of ours. It was just Havel and myself, now, and the computer that was Macchine's rudimentary brain, and the final polishing. Havel's dream was coming to an end. His masterpiece completed, he had no real desire to watch the final ravishment. Sex vaguely disgusted Havel, its mechanics always imperfect, the motions too variable. Someday, perhaps, Macchine would slumber in an art museum in some wing devoted to sex and horror, and Havel would come worship at his creation's riveted feet. But for now, his dream was ending, and mine was beginning."
"And today, as I stand in this space, listening to Havel repair the tiny imperfection (undetectable to me, I'm certain) in the third phallic probe, I see the whole Macchine, and it sees me. I think of Yoko, on her way here to the preparation room, and project my lustful thoughts to Macchine. Macchine's industrial brain awakens with a spark of lust like a welding torch, and projects a frightening thought back to me: 'I was not created for Her. She was born for Me.'"
"Havel cried when he left, as I knew he would. I wanted to weep for him, but I must save my tears for Yoko. Just as I had taken Macchine from Havel, I knew Macchine would take Yoko from me. And Yoko, who would perhaps find an answer to her deepest cravings from Macchine, would still find no great love in those cruel steel arms. I suspected the only real winner in this crazy game would be Macchine. He was, of course, born only to win."
"Yoko arrived at the research laboratory in the early evening. I supervised her preparation but did not touch her. She obediently followed all my instructions, from the careful shaving and oiling of her genitals, to the three high enemas to cleanse her inside, to the careful pinning back of her long hair and the long series of yoga stretches, loosening up her already supple body. We finally touched, in a deep kiss, and I began spreading the slippery oil over her body. Finally, I clasped the heavy manacles around her wrists and ankles, and looked again at the vision of perfect submission."
"I thought to fuck her then, but it would be a sad and unsatisfying experience. We were upon the edge of something truly climactic, and we both knew this. I would masturbate as I watched my creation take Yoko. After she recovered, perhaps long after, we would see what had changed."
"As I watched the robot lead her from the room, I walked the edge of my own deepest fear. Would my creation be enough to master her? Was there truly anything in this world that could push her enough, that would give her what her dark eyes always asked for, pleaded for, demanded? Or would Macchine be just another sex toy, a distraction, to be sampled and tossed into her flames?"
"I shouldn't have worried. The guard led her, manacled, into the room where the lights had been arranged to show Macchine in its perfect meld of green light and shadow. Its purpose, hidden at first, took about fifteen long seconds to reveal itself fully. Yoko made a sound I had never heard before, a whimper or high moan, but not of pain. Of fear. She turned to the camera, offering me the highest gift she had to give: the sight of honest fear, even terror, in her eyes. Her trembling, at first a bare shiver, increased as we walked the long blood-red carpet runner up to Macchine. It loomed, menacing, the metal clamps open like teeth. Yoko's chain was snapped onto Macchine's throat, and as I flicked the warm-up switch to start the deep growling rumble in its belly, Yoko sank to her knees and shook."
"Her tears were real, like her fear. But with this was a deeper lust and excitement than I had ever seen in those eyes."
"Yoko-san, this is Macchine. He is your Master. Do you accept him and offer him your body, completely, without reservation?" I said through the speaker."
"Yoko looked again at Macchine. While the probes were hidden, retracted into flush metal sleeves, there was still a sense of infinite danger. Macchine appeared to be built to crush, to rend, to impale; its power rumbled, waiting, heedless of all flesh. I was asking Yoko to trust that this giant tractor would somehow spare her life, although it did not seem capable of motion without killing. A very deliberate effect."
"Yoko never even looked back at the robot who had escorted her into the room. Mesmerized by Macchine, she knelt transfixed, nearly a minute, weeping, shaking, and taking deep, long breaths. Finally something in her released, and she bowed her head, pressed her lips to the cold metal, and said directly to Macchine: "Your will."
"Her body was actually trembling less when the robot removed the manacles and helped her up into the belly of Macchine. I can't know what decision she made inside, but she seemed to be radiating love and power as well as terror. Her body was positioned face down in the steel harness, about four feet off the floor so that her oiled flesh would be visible from below and the side, except where obscured by the thick steel bars which would run along her limbs, hinged at her joints."
"Havel had designed Macchine with three factors: rigidity, steel-on-flesh, and comfort. Her body would be held absolutely rigid to the frame, with no possiblity of struggle; part of the machine. All the bonds would be pure steel, no padding, leather, cloth, or rope. And comfort was achieved by absolute attention to body shape; the steel milled, rounded and burnished to fit the female body."
"Each steel restraint went *snap* *thunk* as the shaped cuff closed around a limb, and the precise, heavy latches were thrown. Three for each arm, with the wrist-cuffs shaped into a handgrip. Three for each leg. Two for the hips, grasping her pelvis. The oil on her body allowed for very slight motion within the cuffs as the beams moved. The steel hands gripping her, massaging her, forcing her into Macchine's desired mating stance. Her breasts fit into a strange rounded steel "bra" that forced them into conical shapes. Two concave steel plates on thick rods fit onto her forehead, and another cupped her chin, holding her mouth, which at the moment was closed. I then turned the dials, adjusting tiny calipers in Macchine to account for differences between the model we used and Yoko's body. I then told her to struggle, which she tried; however her body was only able to shift less than an inch any direction."
"We Are Ready"
"For a moment I debated giving Yoko the off-switch, the ability to kill Macchine once it begins. But I knew the insult to her pride that this would give, as well as I knew her body and its limits. She knew that when she submitted to Macchine, there would be no turning back. Havel and I ran the program a hundred times, and thus I knew every danger spot. And if the program failed, if a part collapsed, if Macchine went insane, no switch was going to be able to prevent tragedy. But Havel had built and tested well. Now it was time for testing."
"I then typed the "begin" command and brought Macchine out of its warming rest. the motor's sound thrums, deepens, and the beams begin to compress, bending Yoko's legs downward. Yoko then started to cry again, feeling the complete helplessness of knowing her body now belonged to the metal beast. Her arms were then brought up as her legs folded to her body, arching her back. This was a fairly rapid motion, not quite a snap, but enough to let Yoko feel the full power; for another foot of motion and her spine would crack like a twig. The head restraints forced Yoko to look downward as her arms were held up and back."
"The front of the metal "bra" was now visible, along with the clear tubing that ran from the cut-out tips. An air-pump then whirred to life, gently drawing air through the tubes, making a vacuum in the cups. Yoko's breasts were then sealed against the metal, as the air sucked her breasts into the cones, compressing them further and further as she let out a shriek, just as her red, swollen nipples emerged from the ends of the cups. Around each nipple, two gently serrated metal rods snap closed, pinching the nipples flat at the base. The suction then released with a soft sigh, as Yoko's breasts were now extended by the nipples alone while at the same time her long, drawn "Aaaaaaauuuuuu" faded to ragged breaths."
"Next the metal bars shaping her legs and thighs began to part...slowly, so slowly. It took a full minute before her thighs were forced wide, knees and hips still bent at 45 degree angles. At the same time, her arms were lowered and her head was raised, until she was in the classic female mating posture. The thigh-bars then continued to spread, even more slowly, stretching her muscles, showing Yoko how impossible it was to resist. I then told Yoko to relax her thigh-muscles more and more over the next minute, until finally, at the end, she was spread almost flat, her sex and anus thrust out, open, accessible, and completely vulnerable."
"But Macchine was designed to play before it would mate. To be a suitable receptacle for its lust, Yoko had to broken mentally to its will, her body moved beyond fear into total submission, for Macchine was programed to know the female body well."
"New gears then silently engaged and slowly the whip wheels began to turn. From six perfectly recessed thin slots in Macchine's body, meter-long wires were drawn, attached to the edges of the whip wheels. The wheels then began their pivot inward towards Yoko's body, as wires made a thin swish through the air. Two were arranged to strike her inner thighs from below at an angle; two more were arranged to strike downward at her upturned ass; the last two were arranged to strike her upper back. But for now, the wheels spun free, faster and faster, the whipping sound of metal wires growing higher and louder, until the sound was a dangerous sizzling. Yoko now heard, and understood what was soon to occur, and began to sob in fear."
"However, Macchine's touch was gentle, though, for all its ferocity. The carefully rounded ends of the wires barely touched Yoko's skin, and precise servos felt the touch, and kept the ends of the wires barely grazing her flesh on each pass. However, when she tensed a muscle in her ass or thigh or back, raising her flesh, the next pass brought a *snap* and a welt. As a result Yoko realized that she had to go completely limp to avoid the metal scarring her body. As the wheels drifted over her, Macchine changed its angles slightly, like a dangerous metal tongue caressing her skin."
"Once they had traced, memorized and recorded her contours, these tongues of steel retraced their steps; but this time, the whip wheels began slowing down, to a devastating effect. As the wheels spun more slowly, the wires moved outward, beginning all at once to drive into her flesh and muscle. The servos reacted more slowly, drawing the wheels gradually away, but only quickly enough to avoid her skin being torn as Yoko was now dealt a barrage of rapid-fire whippings, raising welts all over her back, ass and thighs within seconds. The assault brought an uncontrolled shriek and a long, drawn-out scream of pain from her, as I saw her every muscle tense as she tried to twist, buck, kick; all to no avail as she was bolted to solid iron. The only motion left to her was the ability to hunch her back slightly; but this pulled her clamped and aching nipples harder against the tips of the steel bra. Yoko's only release now was through sound, and her wail was that of a mating cat."
"Eventually the wires finally slowed and stopped, with the final pass closing in for a long, slow lick of each wire against Yoko's tortured flesh, then receding back to their home-slots, their work complete. They were cruel but precise; for Yoko's back was now completely covered with red welts, but no blood had been drawn. The endorphins were beginning to flow in her body now, her breathing growing heavy as her mind reeled in terror."
"Yoko's body had a brief respite while the heavy whips extended slowly, out of her vision. The two flexible graphite and fiberglass shafts rose from below her like twin phalluses, one on each side of her. Unlike the wires, these were heavy shafts, like a riding crop or fishing rod, and no simple wheels were used to move these whips. The offset gearing and counterweights used to simulate whipping were one of Havel's greatest challenges, and as in everything, Havel did not stop until he had achieved perfection."
"The first of the five-foot whips stopped in position in front of Yoko's ass, then, with a sudden twitch of gears, the whip's body jerked backwards, bending the whip into a graceful arc. Just before the tip caught up to the new position, the gear reversed, bringing the whip even more violently forward. The tip yanked backwards, in a whistling figure-eight, and then forward to slam into both of her buttocks with a force that rocked her entire frame. Yoko was unprepared, of course; for it took nearly a half-second for her overloaded nerves to register the strike, and translate the pain into a the start of a long scream."
"However, there was little time for thought, because the second whip had begun its strike as the first whipped back to original position for a second blow. The second whip aimed just below the first, just above the entrance to Yoko's sex. The long cycle of the whips was mesmerizing, each keeping precisely out of the way of the other, as they beat her with deep strokes that she could feel inside her belly. The screams coming from Yoko's throat did not sound human, but gradually, as her endorphin levels reached higher and higher, the sounds deepened to groaned, and I heard Yoko's breath being sucked in, deep and slow."
"The whips finally stopped, as suddenly as they began. As they retracted, I heard Yoko's voice, soft, deep, moaning from her belly, in a tone that sounds like distilled bliss. She was saying, in a rhythm that echoed the whip-strokes: "Master. Master. Master."
"Deep in her submission, with her eyes closed, her body limp and soft, Yoko's soul opened to Macchine as it never did to me. I could not feel jealous or angry -- for Yoko and Macchine were elemental, polar, bonded, nature and science, interlocking halves. As Macchine became more machine, Yoko became more human, the contrast touching something deep inside me. However, I felt no pride, strangely, in creating this; just a sense of dark, rich joy in the watching that overwhelmed my senses. As Yoko recited her soft litany, over and over, I began to sense satisfaction and poised readiness from Macchine. Then, with soft, small movements: the final program began."
"Like a pair of pincers closing on the space behind Yoko's ass, the two heavy probe-sheaths slowly swung into place; one lowering from above, a larger rising from below. The third sheath lowered down in front of her vision as circular vents opened with a hiss of steam. The probes emerged ever so slowly from their sheaths, as steam rose around them. Yoko's eyes, open now, were mesmerized, and locked on the phallic shape that slowly revealed itself before her face. Behind her, a large probe emerged downward towards her ass, and two probes, one small and one nearly arm-sized, rose from the lower sheath."
"Each probe's intricate joints, tubes, and motion-belts were hidden within a tapered, scaled-metal hide, capable of delicate motion but completely unyielding to flesh. Each was a powerful, sinuous steel tentacle. Around the metal hide was a thick skin of latex, and another, somewhat thinner, looser skin, coated with oil, blue-black in color, looking something like a foreskin. They extended to nearly touch Yoko's mouth, her pink sex, and her anus. Then, in a move designed purely to show off and intimidate, all four probes did a sinuous dance, a corkscrew ripple starting at the base and moving to the tip, with a curling, spiral motion. All Yoko could do now was watch the hypnotic motion of the mouth-probe as she felt the other three caress her thighs and bottom, smearing them with hot oil. Eventually more oil dripped down along the dark, slick shafts as her tongue obediently extended to try to catch a drop of oil; however the mouth probe stayed just out of reach."
"Yoko's anus was to be penetrated first as slowly and smoothly the slender tip pressed outward, touching and parting her ring, and then entered her ass. The probe cared nothing for resistance, but moved slowly, millimeter at a time, as Yoko moaned and accept this inexorable invasion. The probe continued, its gentle taper finally reaching its maximum inch-and-a-half diameter, and then slowly slid up inside her colon, after which, with a gentle squirm inside, Macchine showed Yoko just how deeply she has been penetrated, and how a part of Macchine now lived and moved deep inside her as she gasped in both pain and pleasure."
"Meanwhile, the smaller of the vaginal probes extended upward. Only a half-inch thick, the probe had been designed for flexibility. Sliding past Yoko's clitoris, it curled and enters her sex, as her gasps now turned to cries of passion, frustration and need. I could not see the curl continuing, but I knew it was wrapping around her pubic bone, holding it like a curled finger, finally pressing her G-spot with its tip and her clit with its smooth, oiled shaft. After which I saw and heard Yoko's dramatic, intense reaction when the probe tightened around her pubic bone and -pulled- down!"
"Yoko's screams and renewed attempts to thrash and pull away showed the effectiveness of the technique called "wishbone," as the anal probe pulled upwards, pressing her tailbone higher, as the pubic bone was pulled downward. The probes were strong enough to pull Yoko apart, but they applied just enough pressure for her to feel her bones being separated as the mouth of her sex was stretched wide. Stretched in preparation, of course, for Macchine's real penis."
"Machinne's real cock began moving now, its blunt head nudging between the other probes, until it is pressed against Yoko's open sex. The head seemed impossibly large, the size of an apple, but I knew Yoko's limits well. The probe was about the diameter of my closed hand, which she had learned to accept over time. The probe then started to squirm, gently moving her inner lips out of the way, parting, spreading, and finally penetrating her. Once again, her body could accept this, but her mind would not, for nothing had prepared her for the intensity of this invasion, this splitting open of her body by steel and rubber. Yoko screamed again, the sounds becoming strangled, gasping, until she suddenly pass another threshold of submission as some final part of her mind clicked off, and she felt no need to scream; just to accept, to let Macchine use her, force her, mate her. As the mouth-probe extended and the head clasps forced her jaw apart, her tongue lovingly accepted this final part of Macchine into her remaining opening."
"The motions of the other probes were slow, delicate, sinuous now. The wishbone probed relaxed, for her sex was now stretched to its widest ever. The mouth probe required her final, most intimate submission, as it slid past her tongue and down her throat. At this point Yoko cannot breathe, and her gag reflex could not be completely turned off, though she tried as involuntary spasms wracked her body as the long probe slithered into her esophagus, widening her throat. The fifteen seconds of penetration must have seem like an eternity, but at last the probe withdrew, leaving her gasping, retching, sputtering, and crying. I then held the pause switch this time, letting my intuition aid Macchine in making sure Yoko's was safe. When her coughing subsided and she had taken two deep breaths, I released the switch and let Macchine penetrate her again."
"This continued until Macchine finally owned Yoko's throat as surely as her other passages. The penetrations now were smooth, with no gagging or thrashing, and she now breathed deeply in between. Thin streams of saliva mixed with oil that ran from the corners of her mouth, as, with her eyes now closed, she appeared to be in total peace, tears streaming, as she accepted it all as Macchine now moved as a single organism, mating with her entire body as no animal could do. Perfectly synchronized, the hinged bars began to thrust and shape her body in the slow, hunching motion of the build to ecstasy. Gradually, the speed increased, almost imperceptibly, as the anal probe swelled further, as hot water was pumped between the latex membranes. Inside of her ass, a balloon of warm liquid added to the intense pressure. From below, slowly, the small vaginal grip-probe started to thrum with slow vibrations, as if a violin string was being plucked."
"The vibrations increased in intensity as Macchine pumped faster. The mouth-probe now penetrated only to the back of her throat, but its tip, too, also began to swell with warm liquid. Yoko's body is now flush and foretold of her impending orgasm as her mouth and jaw were stretched to their limit, as her body rammed back against the probes, her flesh rippling. As she came, I signaled the end to Macchine, as tubes throughout the probes filled with the warm, creamy, drugged mixture that formed Macchine's sperm until finally the pumps began to force it into her openings, first in jets, then a slow, languorous flow. As Machine came, Yoko swallowed rhythmically, greedily, but soon a thick stream flowed out beside the swollen mouth-probe, the white cream contrasting with the dark skin of the probe and her own red, flushed complexion. The flow into, and therefore out of, her sex was slow, filling her but not forcing. However, from behind, the anal probe pumped steadily, with no leakage, filling her bowels and colon as the probe in your throat filled her stomach until she could no longer swallow. Only when Yoko's belly was distended, stretched full with Macchine's seed, does the flow finally stop, after which the probes' swelling receded, as the slow withdrawal began."
"As the probes finally exited, the cream drained from all of Yoko's openings, her body overwhelmed, expelling the huge burden, while at the same time Macchine relaxed into a gentle slumber, allowing her limbs to collapse inward to a fetal position. Even so, Yoko suddenly began to choke, at which time I panicked, ran over, and then released her nipples and head, so as to help her clear her lungs. After the last clasp was released, Yoko's limp body fell into my arms, her face showing no comprehension, no emotion; for all of her humanity had now been drained and given to Macchine. Yoko's belly continued to ripple with cramps as her body forced more cream from her bowels, but the pain never touched her, for her mind was now somewhere deep inside, deep underground, at the very heart of her deep caverns of submission."
"As you can see gentlemen and Kabuki-san, the gentle drugs worked their effect, and she slid off to a deep slumber, joining with Macchine once more in unconsciousness. However, unlike other prototypes, I hope that the board sees fit to continue our tests of Macchine, and I have oiled it and polished it in preparation for another demonstration; however, as you can see on the screen it is doubtful that Yoko's lithe body will be able to withstand a second test. Therefore I am requesting the GENOM board of directors to grant me additional funds so that I can recruit several more subjects to use in my requested further tests."
The video demonstration had left all the members of the board in quite a state of shock, for the robotic rapist had nearly fucked the young female test subject to death, and, as was later discovered permanently sterilized from the force of the robotic cocks that pummeled her unmercifully. Hours later, well after the presentation had ended, Dr. Hitashi, who was by now back in his laboratory, received an urgent e-mail from the director of internal security that thanked for his time, and ordered him to return to his laboratory and to prepare Macchine for more tests...
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