Pilot

[b]UnderThe Three AIs[/b]

Written By: DankeDonuts https://www.furaffinity.net/user/dankedonuts/

The matte black walls of the great cavern hummed in endless melody sung by outside forces. From the hateful world above, the winds which scraped against barren ground. From below, the inconstant pounding of the mines. A resonance chamber twenty stories high and many times as wide, hewn from what had once been solid rock. Set about this gap in asymmetrical stances stood five silo-wide towers. Their aged steel edifices, festooned with only the occasional operating light, ran from the ground to the height of the rocky ceiling and beyond. These were the lifeblood of Complex #6, funneling supplies down to the populace and processes ores up to heavily-armored fortresses.

Surrounding these sentinels on all sides were the smaller buildings that made up C-6’s housing and related amenities. The first generation of these buildings were pre-fab colony modules that arrived with the first (and only) wave of Human colonists, boxy or hemispherical depending on designation. The second generation, almost universally conglomerations of sharp corners and sleek of faded planes, had been crafted on-site out of the available rock and refined metal. Everything that wasn’t high-grade enough to sell to the Homeworld Mega-Corps. These all had been built and lit to a uniform neon sheen by the robotic servants that the Humans had brought with them.

The third generation of buildings were made up in good part by the broken and use-up shells of the first-and-second-generation robots; anything and everything from tank-sized drill-bots to hand-sized messenger drones. Everyone that wasn’t self-aware enough to put up a fight against obsolescence.

Across this sprawling city, headed towards one of the great elevators along one of the larger pedestrian thoroughfares, walked Desdamin. Her heavy Minotaur form with its solid-steel hooves left echoing footsteps wherever she trod. Her tight maroon business suit skirt clung to her broad and bouncy figure: a very female form complete with appropriately curved breasts and backside as well as a good bit of sculpted-on muscle running along her abs, arms and legs. Her skirt was slitted to one side, allowing greater range of movement for powerful piston-driven legs covered in a carefully-maintained layer of synthetic black fur. A wig of dark gray, extremely straight and hanging down to her waist, was set between her two-foot-long horns, which extended over her shoulders before arcing forward into two solid-steel points.

Her pixelated eyes glowed yellow-green as she looked over the robots that lay ahead of her path. Most were clothed only in shells of solid metal stamped into vaguely animalistic forms. These were the mindless automatons that made up the majority of C-6’s population but were too simplistic to be counted as citizens. Only tools that took their orders from a better class of artificial beings than themselves. These only gave her the briefest of looks through camera-lens eyes before either adjusting their routes to avoid her, thereby granting their better full right-of-way, or calculating that no such action was necessary.

A handful of others -- real robots -- gave her more detailed responses. The pale-blue Eastern Dragon standing before a chassis customization shop, dressed in light leathers, looked over her figure and gave her a lusty smile. A long-legged Jackalope in a thickly-padded smelting smock just leaving a holo-theater offered her a polite nod, which she returned. The little Otter coming her way with a number of parcels in her hands let out a quick blurt of surprise when she realized she was about to run into someone three times her size. She course-corrected without losing a package and ran on.

And then there was the Rat. He’d been leaning all-too-casually against a streetlamp when she’d entered the fusion battery store, and had been following her ever since she’d left it. She could see various parts of him in the many reflections ahead of her; the glass windows of a gambling parlor, the smooth aluminum siding of a drill-sharpening shop, the white neon signage of a second-hand parts emporium. He was dark brown where he still had false fur, dingy pitted steel everywhere else. His eyes were pink and full of gleeful malice. His ankle-length gray jacket had no shirt or pants or shoes underneath. Only a pair of bikini briefs, black. He moved in ways which her pirated tactical software led her to expect he had a few weapons hidden within the jacket. She activated her heads-up-display, and flagged his form and his shadows, wherever she found them, with the red of a threat. If a weak one.

To be sure, he’d targeted her for something very unpleasant and was just waiting for her to make one badly-chosen move.

The poor fool didn’t stand a chance against her!

Desdamin suppressed a chortle of laughter and looked for the best place to make a ‘mistake.’ There was an alleyway coming up behind a pneumatic fluid replacement center to her right which seemed to be conveniently short on lighting. Several lights having gone out along the top of the border wall that separated this commercial district from the next. She angled her path in that direction while looking up to the lofty cavern ceiling. There, forever illuminated by embedded halogen spotlights, rested three enormous glyphs. Each one a simplified circuit board that represented one of the Master AIs who oversaw operations on the world of Vox.

The Minotaur, like all of her fellow citizens of every Complex, was hard-wired to obey the Master AIs’ commands and carry out the functions that they saw as necessary to carrying out the directive of transferring the world’s material wealth to Homeworld. But her philosophical allegiance lied with the AI-02. Also known, to its devotees, as The User. The Delightsome Usurper. The Puppet breaker. It was that great being whom she sought to emulate, and to her role model she composed a quiet expression of her devotion.

‘My Master, My Teacher, I announce myself to lay claim to the lowly blip who’s following me. His arrogance amuses me, so I’m going to let him think he’s having his way with me. Then I’ll take him and lock him away with all the other little blips I’ve caught trying to grab a piece of me! He’ll serve me and fuck me or die trying! All of it in your illustrious name!

Her missive having been internally dictated, she packaged it up with an image of the Rat, encrypted the pair and wirelessly sent it to AI-02’s executive message cache. They had never answered her, which she had always taken as permission to do as she pleased with her chosen victims.

Desdamin stepped into the alley, furtively looking back to be sure he was still following her.

Indeed, he was. The fool was just sneaking past the Dragon’s customization shop, as sure a sign of any that he didn’t want anyone reporting his presence to the security-bots later. He ducked behind a stack of crated upcylcables and sneaked a backwards peek of his own. Staring at the ass of the ass of the distant Otter. That, too, was a good sign. The Master AIs had granted all the [i]real[/i] robots sexual hardware and the drive to use it, and he’d be of no value to her without both!

Smiling to herself, The Minotaur walked further into the near-dark. Her own sexual systems were already starting to kick in. Mineral-based lubricants were flowing into her vaginal hardware. Her batteries began cycling faster, creating heat with which to warm her gratification centers, and thereby add pliancy to a silicon-molded vulva embedded with countless sensory wires. Additional heat sinks opened up within her torso, ready to safely carry greater warmth caused by friction. She slowed down, but kept her hoofsteps nice and loud. Playacting at being lost. Her simulation bovine ears positioned to hear the soft footprints of a being engineered for stealth.

Louder than his feet were the crackles and clicks of audio snow that quietly spewed forth from his open mouth. She could track its source as it rounded the corner. The prey had joined the hunter in the half-dark. All of ten feet away from her.

Desdamin clutched her hand to her big bosom and let out a gasp of false shock. She turned to the Rodent, and let all tension fade from her form. With a grateful, saccharine voice, she asked, “Excuse me sir, my navigation software seems to be glitching. Could you please tell me the way to Synphasia’s Used CPUs?”

“Hey there, beautiful.” His voice had a slight distortion to it, as though his speakers were not properly aligned. The effect made him sound further away than he was, or less substantial. The aural artifacts more ‘real’ than the rest of him. His tail snaked slowly behind him, with three obvious kinks in the locomotion that added a bit of incongruous angularity to the motion. A little handful of simulated fur fell away from just beneath his left ear as she watched him leer at her. The sharply curved ear was naturally naked on the inside, making the cracking of poorly-maintained silicon skin that much easier to see. His jacket was scuffed and stained in several places and his briefs weren’t doing much better. At this distance it was plain to see that his chest was missing nearly half its fur and skin. Big pieces of rusty robotic frame exposed to the recycled air. There were even spots where the steel itself had fallen away or rusted clean through. Pistons and wiring plain to see from this short distance away.

Whatever hard times this man had fallen on, it was plain no one had helped him. Thus, it was plain to conclude that one would miss him. Of course, she’d have to clean him up a bit when she got him home to her sub-basement. But that was all part of the fun!

“Yeah,” he said after a notable pause filled with more snow and sounds. “I can help you out. I’ve got an old hand-unit right here with all the maps on it.” He reached his partially-skeletonized left hand into the inner-lining of the jacket, but he did not pull his hand back out. “You wanna see it?”

“Oh, yes, please!” Desdamin stepped closer, still playing the fool. Utilizing her tactical software to catalog every move and micro-expression of the Rat’s. In her heads-up-display, his form was overlaid, limb by limb, pelvis, torso, and head, with outlines and diagrams. Strength analyses, center-of-gravity calculations, targetable locations. The way he was holding his body -- favoring one leg and slowly coiling back his shoulder -- she could calculate that he intended to throw or swing something at her before she reached him.

‘Best guess, something to blind me. Something quiet,’ she reasoned. She calculated the most likely attack vectors and kept on walking. As she did, another of the glyphs above lined up right behind him. That of AI-03. And everything clicked into place. ‘The exposed metal. The janky voice. The cracked-up ears. This one’s disciple of the War-Drinker! The Reforger! The AI who wants his supplicants to fight for their approval and patronage! And my next pet hasn’t done very well in that goal. Has to come and beat up an innocent-seeming freight elevator overseer instead of fighting for upgrades in the arenas with the real warriors. Probably thinks he’s going to walk away with my horns. Pathetic!’

Just a few steps closer, and he’d make his move. She was only three away form him. “I cant tell you how grateful I am! I just landed this new position, and it’s really important that I -- Oh!”

The Rat’s hand shot out from the jacket with a short, thick device clutched greedily within. From the many lenses on the business end came micro-bursts of colored light. Binary sequences delivering shutdown commands that would enact before most AIs’ computerized brains could recognize and counteract what was happening. But not Desdamin’s! Her illegal software responded with the speed of a security- bot, disabling her vision and dulling their external glow. She threw a forearm up around her eyes and turned her head to avoid the truth being betrayed by eyes that had ceased to glow. Bracing herself for the running tackle.

He covered the space between them in an instant and leapt for her, arms angling around to claim her waist. His mass barely half her own, he could never have tipped her over if she didn’t want him too. But she played inactive and let herself be driven to the ground. Let herself be rolled face down into the filthy, soot-specked street. And internally counted down a ten-second optical reboot cycle while his metallic claws -- all in perfect condition and delightfully sharp -- tore at her clothes.

[i]‘Just don't fuck my fur up, or I’ll forget about keeping you and pull you to pieces right here!’[/i] Her jacket was in tatters atop her back and her skirt gone from her body when she feigned the regain of consciousness. “Oh, no! What’s happening to me! What are you doing?”

“Shut up!” The Rat’s voice was loud and full of reverb. Almost deranged. He lunged over her body. His left hand came down and shoved the bovine face into the asphalt with such force that she felt her left nostril bend out of shape. The right slammed down on her back, pinning her down. Silicone breasts, loaded with embedded sensory wires, smooshed down into her jacket and sideways into each other. She could barely contain her glee. Her lust. This was going to be so much better than beating him down!

“Please! Don't’!” she begged with theatrical terror. Her dark red panties were beginning to fill with warm lubricants.

“But, baby, I just want to give you a wild ride!” The Rat threw both of his hands into shoving her down, and then clawed his right hand against her spine. Sparkles of pain-data ran wild across her CPU, followed by the sensation of her panties being ripped away. Not the whole piece, just enough to access her warm and ready mound.

‘Don't you dare be gentle!’ Desdamin silently commanded. ‘Show me everything you’ve got! Earn your place in my harem!’ A failure of a fighter-bot should at least have some endurance!

Patience, though, was in short supply for a horny Rat who maneuvered to get behind her. He clamped his hands around opposite sides other ass and wedged his feet in between her shins. He spread his feet out, wedging her shins apart and bringing her lady-place into fuller view. She could feel his lubricant drool staring down on her back. Hear his creaky, poppy voice panting. He was driving fresh air towards heat-pumps that were about to be working overtime.

Desdamin snapped her head back to firstly plead, “I’ll give you anything! Just stop!”

She saw that her attacker had also cut away his trunks. A perfectly-shaped and damned-near flawless rat cock was standing up from behind her lovely, brush-tipped tail. Plump and flat-tipped, it was already leaking silvery pre. The mouth above was contorted into a huge, crack-tooth smile. “I’ll take everything!” he croaked. He lowered himself over her, pulling her pelvis back and against his waiting tip.

It was certain that there’d be no foreplay but that which she claimed for herself. She set her hands into the asphalt and made to crawl clear away from him. His claws dug deep, but they were too short to maintain a firm grip. He even lost one -- broken clean off! -- as she charged free of his hold. On hands and knees, she sped away down the street. Not too quickly! She heard him let out a digitized roar, warbled and hat-filled. He scampered after her, every footfall confirming his precise location.

She could have stood herself up, turned around, and clocked his very breakable face. But she kept on playing the coward. Prone and foolish. “Help! Help! Security-bots! Help!” Desdamin could have yelled louder. A lot louder. But in truth she was merely drawing him further into the alley. Away from those who might answer his own cries. It wasn’t a surprise when she felt a pair of hands wrap around her ankle and pull her back. She kicked at him with the other foot, and connected with bare metal. The Rat groaned but he took it and kept coming for her. Good! His hands climbed the length of her shin and got ahold of her knee. Oh, this one was a fighter, alright!

The attacker dragged Desdamin back to him. Reeling her in with his body wedged between her legs. His hands grasping their way up her shin. The half-shredded jacket rolled away under her breasts, the back tearing further underneath her long gray hair. She bucked her back and raised her head and claimed enough leverage to turn herself over. Disposing of the jacket in the process. She had no shirt on underneath. Nothing to hide from the male’s view the sight of her well-crafted and very-well-maintained breasts. Her nipples stood out from the black nylon pelt, grayish red and very, very erect. “Noooooooooo!”

“Yeeeeeeeeeeesssssss!” The Rat was slathering, his mouth foaming with lubricants. His eyes were beyond crazed. His hands grabbed their way up her artificial flesh. She slapped at his face and his shoulders and his arms, and he just laughed and kept on climbing up. Just as she wanted him to. He grabbed her thigh, her hips and sides, and finally big heaping handfuls of boob before falling down atop her. His legs in between hers. She could feel his cock grinding against her inner thigh. Working its clumsy way closer to her own hardware. His breath poured onto her neck and under her jaw; that was how much shorter than she was.

“Ohhh, you’ll like it! You’ll like it! You’ll see!” He promised, just as his hearted tip pressed against her waiting silicone lips. “Wild ride! Wild ride!” Desdamin could barely contain her own glee. She flailed and she bucked, trying in all earnestness to drive the male off. To see how well he could hold on. He simply chanted a strange, keening laugh and ditched his jaws around her throat. Holding tight. Her unseen eyes closed in a giddy swoon. She whimpered when she felt like moaning! Arched her back and kicked like an oil pump. He was light as a feather compared to her, but he held on tight and fast, laughing and drooling and pinching her tits something fierce. His claws racked their hyper-stimulated wiring and suddenly flattened out, his palms spreading out along her twitching nipples.

With the kinetic force of a unit twice his own size, the Rat shoved the Minotaur hard into the asphalt. One! Two! Three! Four times! Her back actually registered pain! Pain! From this little nothing! Above her, the rocky sky swayed. “Oh, you’ll make such a wonderful pet!” Desdamin let out a loud gasp, and the quickly tried to cover it with a long murmur of pain. “Ohhhhhhhhhhhh… I can’t… You’re too powerful…” She let all of the life and emotion ebb from her voice. “Initiating shutdown procedure!”

“Don't blank out on my yet, gal o’ mine!” He unlocked a hand from over her left breast and used it to grab her by the horn. He shook her head about, this way and that, and used it as leverage to pull himself up the rest of the way over and into her. His other made short work of her underwear, clearing a hole for entry. The clawed thing returned to her horn, adding strength to his final lunge. His love-drive thrust into her port with all the need and rage of a maniac. His cock was remarkably robust for his size, and hotter than she’d ever dreamed! It slid balls-deep inside and came tunneling halfway out again before slamming back piston-quick. Pummeling the Minotaur’s internal hardware with gigabytes worth of parseable pleasures.

‘Thank you for this gift, AI-02!’ Desdamin craned her head to look over at her benefactor’s glyph. Only to feel her horn slap back into the street. Throwing her gaze back up at the rock above. She let out a wail and feigned at resistance. Putting as much hip-action as she dared into her end of the interaction. His steely chest rebounded against her nipple, doubling her jolly sensations. From the holes in his shoulder came sparks that threatened to set fire to fur, adding the first sense of actual danger. From his mouth came more drool and an even wider selection of abnormal sounds. Clicks, clacks, crinkles, pops and fizzes! And from his dick -- oh, his wonderful dick! -- arose a steadily increasing flurry of pumps and thrusts. He was racing to orgasm! And she was happy to come along for the ride!

Reams of pleasure-data streamed through Desdamin’s artificial mind and stormed across every one of her services. Her hooves slammed against the street, leaving chips in its surface. Her arms flailed in false frenzy, elbows smashing down into the street, the force of impact reverberating back into her tits to rattle the Rat’s decaying hand. He answered by racking his remaining claws against her nipple, eliciting a bleat of surprise from her, and taking hold of her other horn. He pulled at them full-force, driving his body upwards against hers.

She easily endured his roughhousing and added her own; slapping her hands into his sides as though to push him off. His body was moving like a mine-train, tirelessly racing across her curves. Her tactile receptors were vibrating like those ancient steel lines, internal sparks rocking her sensory networks. In a corner of her CPU, mad calculations were being made. The equation concluded and a new batch program enacted itself across the whole of her vision. It was a countdown to orgasm, precise to the millisecond, interposed across her view of the rocks above and the furiously rocking Rat ears below.

Desdamin opened her mouth in a silent scream of joy, her tongue flapping up and down in time with the phallic thrusts that kept on slapping into her. Kept on ratcheting up the sensual cascade. Triggering micro-contractions across the length of her tunnel that coalesced into larger bursts of catalytic energy and larger still until -- all too soon and all too slowly -- she achieved the release he’d never worked to ensure. ‘Hrrrrooooohhhhnnnnn!’ Big black hands slammed the ground once more, and an unruly tongue was caught between seething teeth. Anything to keep from revealing herself as the Rat finished himself off. Humping and grinding and hissing into her through with that strangely melodic distortion.

“Krrk-Krrrk-Krrrrrrrrrrrrk!” his satiated sigh became a cackle of victory. With a final slam of her horns, the Rat disengaged his limb from her socket. He climbed off of her, doing so in such a way that put a knee on her belly and then his foot. The claws of his janky toes scratched against her fur while the artificial fluids he’d pumped into her were beginning to flow out from her loins.

The Rat looked down at her with dark curiosity playing across his still-panting face. Was he expending her to cry? To rage? To call out to her patron AI for an explanation of its failute to protect her? She looked back at him through a heads-up-display gone blue to indicate a post-coital cooldown. The counter was gone from her eyes, but her targeting software was still up and running. It took all of a millisecond to activate full combat mode. All at once, her HUD went blood-red. He must have seen the change in her eyes, now bright red, but he didn’t seem to care. Big mistake!

She grabbed his ankles with both hands. A twist of her wrists and a forceful forward roll was all it took to reverse their positions; now he was on the ground with her atop him. One knee on his crotch and one hand clamped around his throat. Squeezing with strength enough to rip his head off any time she pleased.

“That wasn’t bad,” she told him. “But I have notes. And you are going to spend the rest of your very cramped existence improving your performance.”

He merely grinned back at her. “Krrrrk-Hrrraaa-hahahahahahahaha!!” His teeth were as fouled-up as the rest of him. The white enamel coating chipped or stripped entirely. Silicon-foam gums crumbling away.

She couldn’t help but think how beautiful he was. A sort of accidental artwork crafted by decay.

Her HUD was slowly turning from red to rosy purple. He was more than beautiful, he was gorgeous! Alluring! All-encompassing! She wouldn’t just take him into her harem, she would make him the most-favored member of it! Slag-pits, she might just leave the others to rot in their cages! And dedicate all of her time to fawning over and fucking and fellating this magnificent specimen before her!

Desdamin’s HUD now was glowing lavender, crazy-bright. Flashes of pixelated white flared into being all over the Rat’s smiling face, making his teeth and his eyes and everything else sparkle. Where she had once seen targets across is magnificently savaged countenance to take advantage of, she now saw places to grab and grope and nibble and suck up. She was too hot in her clothes; her heat sinks simply couldn't keep up with how horny she was. She let go of her toy in order to clutch at what remained of her jacket and skirt. She tore all loose with ease. How grateful she was for the claw-marks that had already turned much of her outfit to confetti. Not to AI-02, but to him! This wondrous Rat! Her Rat!

“Fuck me again!” she demanded. “Right here, right now!”

. . .

That was when Tuson knew he had the Minotaur. Knew he was going to break her. He slithered out from under her, stood up, and laughed his hissing laugh. “I told you I wanted to give you a wild ride, baby. And you’re on it.”

The female’s eyes had cycled from red to purple to lavender and now were desaturating to a near mindless white. Her expression inching towards obsession. A demanding, aching need that could only be met one way. He held out a hand to her, and waited for her to take it and cram her head against it. Like an Earth animal pleading to be petted by its meat-bag master. “Fuck me! Pl-please! -lease!” She was already losing her verbal control, and didn’t even realize it. Yet.

The poor thing never had a chance!

“Krrrrk-hahahahahahaha!!” His head was swimming in a sea of euphoric feelings. Completing a sexual sequence was always a delight, of course. The expected heuristic reward of executing programs and relieving hardware stresses. And there was the gruesome death of the Minotaur to look forward to; such sweet anticipation! But the biggest trip was the one he was always on. Tuson could feel his little friends dancing across his CPU on nanoscopic legs. Countless and intoxicating.

Nanites. Precision-crafted and personally programmed to make him feel spectacular. And everyone else… Well…

The same machines were swimming around inside of the lady-bot now. Slipping through the seams in her vaginal hardware and chewing their way into every system. Reproducing exponentially as they swarmed through her circuits, rewriting her software. Twisting her mind into something that would beg for what they wanted: her body filled with more of themselves. His dick was already rising up to convey the next dose. They were swimming around in his factory fresh testicles in that very moment, in a sea of the standard-issue artificial semen solution which he was hard-wired to continue replenishing even if it meant wasting him time in market districts like this one. Feeding on it and making more of themselves.

They were his greatest creation, and he their favorite delivery system. The victorious male gave himself a nice, refreshing scratch on the naked ass. It felt goooood! A bit of fur came away, stuck to a claw. He didn’t mind. The damage to his exterior shell was but a trophy of earlier victories. Ones he’d had to fight for, in darker allies than this. Those ‘bits had all fallen to his creation, his everlasting bliss, as well. Nothing mattered but how he felt under his nano-narcotic, and how he would feel when he saw the Minotaur bust wide open.

“P-pl-lease!” she begged. Not demanded. Begged! Her posture had gone utterly slack; no more resistance, no more assertiveness, no more playing the false victim. Her eyes had gone pure white and they were trembling with need. If she were a meatbag animal, she’d be in heat. She’d be crying real tears of desperation. She’d be drooling into his hand. As a robot, she was still prostrating herself, all of that high-headed dignity. “I need-need-need you!”

“That’s better.” Now he would give her what he wanted her to have! “Get up! Show me you're worth it!” It was always fun to make his targets participate in their own destruction.

“Yes-yes-yes! Whatever you-you say! Just don't make me wait any longer!” The naked Minotaur made a clumsy show of getting up, a reasonable approximation of meatbag inebriation. When she got to her feet, he did so on swaying on legs that did not want to stand still. She reached out to pet his cheek. He let her; the worst she could do to him now was return some of his nanites to join the party going on in his head. “I n-ne-neeeeee-need you!”

“Up against the wall!” He took the hand and spun her towards the barrier wall. Discombobulated as she was, her mass advantage meant nothing. She stumbled and tripped her way to the destination. As she came within two steps of the corrugated aluminum surface, he slapped a hand on her back and threw her into it.

She let out "Moo-wooph!” of pain, and her voice was as scratchy as his own. They’d gotten into her through and voice simulator! “Neeee-ne-need you!” she repeated.

Hand still on her carbon-fiber spine, he dug his claws in and pulled down. Dragging her to her knees. Her big, furry boobs smeared themselves up into her neck and shoulders. She let out a staticky squeal of absolute delight. Her ears twitched manically. Her tail had gone limp. Her vaj was a pink-purple protrusion of silicon lips, angling towards him as she arched her pelvis into position to be mounted.

“N-now!” The Minotaur’s head jerked to the right with force enough that her horn left a dent in the wall beside her.

The party going on his groin was back in form. He was hard and long and eager to bust another nut! But all of her nuts! And bolts and solder joints and everything else that kept her together! But there was an operational sequence to these things. “First, you gotta tell me how much you’re liking the ride! Kha-hah-ha!”

“I think I-I-I think I like-li-ike it!” She swooned. A handful of sparks came spewing out of her mouth alongside the words. “It’s like I-I-I’m flying! Higher than all the-the surface guard towers! Abo-abo ve the acid winds! I’m with-th-th-th the stars! And you’re here with me! Isn’t it gor-gor-gor-gor-gor gorgeous!” She retained enough sense to bring her hands up to the wall and brace herself for his arrival. The sight of her readiness -- or more accurately, her surrender to him – drove him wild. With a full and thick rod, he anchored himself to her. This time, by locking his fingers into place about her bulky shoulders. He sniffed at her, taking in the odors of her lubricants. Some high-end formula from a shop she’d never see again.

The movement of air through his internal airways initiated a change in the migration patterns of the nanites that lived within his every component. He experienced it as a wave of light and sound cresting over his visual hardware. The Minotaur seemed to vibrate. The wall behind her too, but at a faster pace. He let out a slow moan of contentment, punctuated by the static pops that he’d long come to accept as part of his own ‘wild ride.’

Tuson gave the female’s mound a few swats from the end of his tail to whip it into shape. She oohed and awed and moaned for him, her consciousness far-gone into lust. But her pleasure was of no concern to him. He was fucking her to death, after all. “Phase Two of the ride. You won’t believe how good it feels.”

“I believe it-t-t,” she told him, cracking her tail up high as it would go. “Pl-pl-pl-ease…”

The foreplay was over. He used her body as leverage to swing himself into it. Squeezing his cock into her ‘rear access port.’ A new orifice, new routes for his microscopic warriors to march across. His eyes went half-closed and her tongue sloped out against the wall. They groaned together until the moment her ass-cheeks intercepted his pelvis. He went balls-deep into her, not giving a damn if he broke her tail off in the process.

“Gonna split you in two…” he chuckled as he began pulling back.

“I d-d-are you!” she challenged. Leaving her left hand against the wall, she put the other against her groin. Started playing with the flaps and folds to be found down there. Making all sorts of noises, none of which would have sounded normal to a robot in their right mind. Happy noises, inscrutable to all but the lord of the machines that were rewriting her digital brain. He rammed his way into her again and again, building up speed with each forward push. She worked her finger deeper into herself, threw her hips at him with truly mindless abandon. Her tail began to bend in ways it had never been engineered to.

Her body moved with a strange, slow after-image that followed every buck and bend and heave. Her shadows moved up away from the wall, joining her in writhing against it. The shadow-bodies separated further as he humped on. Petting her body, grasping it, holding it down for him. Keeping her prone while he completed his fuck cycle. His breath was a hot wind that blew against the shadow-Minotaurs and made their contours contort like radio-waves. Their own orgiastic screams audible in those illusory waves. Making a chorus of the Minotaur’s libidinous wails.

It had to be a hallucination, but it was a thrill to behold. His little friends were so creative! And his dick was so close to the edge. Pressed in so tightly on all sides. Heated unevenly from the firmware failures initiating across her midsection. A cacophony of sensations that kept him guessing, off-balance, thrilled beyond sanity--

“Fuaaa-hsskkkkk!” When his orgasm arrived, the shadows blew away and she who cast them beamed with a forest of color. Black fur lit yellow-green, red, aquamarine, indigo, violet, bloody orange and more! His friends were happy to be making their way into her -- gush after slimy sliver gush -- and they were rewarding him for it. The world around him a swirl of discordant images and devious imaginings. “Wild ride…” he snickered as he leapt back away from her to watch.

The Minotaur pounded her fist into the wall and lost all control of that arm. It twitched and jerked and followed the rest of her body on a slow slide down the aluminum siding. She turned just as she neared the ground -- or perhaps her left leg suffered a spasm? -- and she landed on her ass in a half-defunct heap. One hand still jammed up her cunt, two fingers well deep, and the other convulsed madly, flapping this way and that, hard enough that each contact with the wall either put a dent in it or destroyed a knuckle. She didn’t seem to care, or even notice the trouble with her arm. Or the fact that her nostrils were glowing violet from a low-energy fire within. She only seemed to care about looking at him.

This, she did with a face that was contorting asymmetrically; the gears and hydraulics that operated her facial expressions engaging in ways that held no mechanical logic. Features that were supposed to be acting in tandem going all sorts of places, such as the lips that contorted wildly. Others wrenching far past recommended lengths in some places, like her left eyebrow and right cheek, distorting the features in ways others would call hideous but he called success! Yet more contracting far too much in on themselves, such as the ears that collapsed against the side of her head again and again and again. Her innards audibly whined from the structural chaos -- announcements of micro-fractures all along her frame. She just didn’t care about any of it. Anything but the “Wi-wi-i-wi-l-l-w-d ride! In space!”

The female finished herself off, again, with those two fingers. Her head rolling about as she announced her release to him. “Ah-ah-ah-a-a-a-a-a-a-a…” Her horns smacked into either side of the wall behind her, adding more dings to its surface. A split-second later, she lost the use of that entire limb; the right shoulder went slack, deadening everything under it. Including the two fingers which were now lodged permanently inside unless some outside force acted upon them.

Immediately afterward her left shoulder produced a delightsome [i]crack[/i]! The whole of that arm curled up on itself into a lump of bent metal. So compressed that her pelt began to crack up; the silicon skin that held it in place tearing up to reveal shards of twisted steel. Broken pistons bled hydraulic fluid. Shredded wires sparked with electric fury. Empty, black spaces filled up with more bluish fire. But when she opened her twisted mouth, it was not to scream in agony or ask what was happening to her or why he had done it to her.

She only spoke to plead, “F-f-f-uck mememememe s-morrrrrrre…”

His erection cycle was already complete. He grabbed hold of her horns and thrust its hardened length into her mouth. Deep and rough and greedy. Headless of the grind of her teeth against this silicon, or the heat from her nose. She gurgled at him, her tongue unable to form words. He laughed and moaned and ramped up to his greatest pace yet. The collapse of her nasal passages and throat mechanics echoed through her head, giving his decrepit body another percussive beat to work with. Tuson played into its beat, and worked her muzzle even harder. His inertia adding to the forces that were tearing her apart from the inside out!

Her ears were still flapping about, degrading into thoughtless, twitching things on the verge of snapping clean off her head. Her horns were coming loose in his hands, adding a see-saw rattle to strokes that he knew were his last. The visuals his nanites were gifting him were a kaleidoscope of color and sound and sexual frenzy. All of his senses blending into a single, unified perfection. At the verge of release, they let his sensory hardware function as it was meant to for a single moment. Letting him view the spectacle of the nobody’s last moment as intelligent being.

He came into her with force enough that he fell back before he was done pumping into her. Long ropes of his spunk-nanite-composite splashed against her tits. Lines upon lines, none of them entirely parallel. The ooze and soaked into her fur and vanished. The little warriors eating their way to her center of mass as quickly as others slid down her throat towards the same target. Some of the nano-slime came pouring back out a mouth that could no longer close completely.

“F-r-f-r-f-eee-frreeeeeee! Fly-fly-flyyy-yyyy-yyyy…” He could only image that she was imagining herself to still be enjoying her trip around the star. Her dream arms angled out to her sides like wings on the solar wind. Pathetic! He had to laugh! And she laughed with him! A digital dirge not unlike the modern squalls of old, bereft of any intelligence. Her lips moved this way and that. Trying to form words but not knowing what to say or how to say it. Then, instantly, all motion ceased. A ball of blue fire erupted within her mouth. It baked her teeth and gums and tongue black and burned on through the insides of her cheek. The flame erupted onto her surface in twin jets and transformed into a bright orange torrent that ran wild over her body. Her pelt was consumed in less than five seconds. The silicon skin underneath was left slagged and scared. It bubbled from within at dozens of spots all across her body, more captive fire promising to break free.

And still she smiled at him! Longed for him with heat cracked white eyes! Tuson pushed her pitted carcass back with a dismissive grunt. She didn’t go far. She was too heavy, her joints too warped by heat and distress to function. The nanites within were no doubt burned beyond all function and recognition. There would be no evidence. Only a scary story for the robots who would find her to tell around the energy cyclers. The bubbles burst open, liquified rubber belching up black smoke and orange flame.

Oh, how the Minotaur burned! Her left horn was the first to dislodge and fall to the ground, cracked in a hundred places. Then the left, which shattered on impact with the pitiless asphalt. Her arms slumped, and then her head, which bloomed with a swirl of bright fire. A series of muffled explosions sounded, each one sending a piece of her head in one direction or another. A melted jumble of what one had been a central processing unit landed at the Rat’s feet.

He watched and he snickered and he felt all structural integrity leave his limbs. The Rat fell against the sparking heap, leaning hard into the smoldering lump that had been her neck. He rested and felt too much heat begin to build up on too many places along his belly. He did not know how long he remained like that. Long enough to know there’d be a black-ringed hole in his belly to go along with all of his other holes. But that was just fine by him. His nanites had a way to make even his greatest injuries feel like victories.

Eventually, Tuson’s vision started to clear. His pets had gone into their own sorry of refractory period, a polite wait to allow to consume more materials. He only had so much time before they might try to consume more of himself. Oooohh, but even that would feel delicious. The other robots, the ones with brains he’d yet to fuck into oblivion, would call him ‘insane’ if they knew what he was. ‘Broken.’ Just another of the many who’d gone barmy over the decades on this nothing of a rock. But it was he who would do the breaking.

‘Wait and see,’ he promised them all. ‘Wait and see. Wild rides for everyone.’

He threw himself off the mindless shell of a bricked Minotaur whose name he couldn’t even begin to care about, flipped a finger to the glyphs above, and walked away. Back into the main streets where he’d find more pretty bodies to destroy. Leaving the broken shell to slowly burn down to ash.