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saintbryde · 4 months

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bound to the jinni | pt 4

Content Warnings | Tropes : breeding kink, noncon, dubcon, huge monster peen, somnophilia, sex slave and master dynamic, primal, dom/sub power exchange, squirting, creampie, fingering, bondage, drugged state from aphrodisiacs, instalove, raspberry sherbet flavored cum which is also an aphrodisiac

A/N : Please don’t use this as a reliable sex resource, the sex slave and master dynamic presented here is in no way meant to be a true representation of a healthy BDSM relationship

Parts: the end!

"Crawl," Varcan commanded, stationed at the room's center, beckoning her with a subtle motion of his finger. "And show me what's mine."

For the past week, Varcan had thoroughly trained and bred Heather to the point that she didn’t even know what day it was. Not a worry had entered her head. A routine had been established between them; every morning Heather would show Varcan every crevice of her body because it belonged it him.

And she loved the way it made her feel.

Having recently awoken, Heather’s dark unruly hair fell in cascades down her back and shoulders as she obeyed, moving on all fours before him, chain trailing underneath her.

Warm sunlight spilled onto her skin from the crystal window, and she sighed pleasantly, prowling around Varcan.

She held her chin high just as he’d trained her to, eyes never leaving Varcan’s face. Drinking in all Heather’s curves, a muscle in Varcan’s jaw tensed and he breathed a deep sigh as if he was composing himself. Heather’s eyes flicked to his cock, stirring to a slight erection.

Heather gave him an impish grin. Varcan’s eyes trailed her thick thighs, visibly taunted by their unblemished skin, waiting to be marked as proof of his ownership of her. He’d given her enough time between their sessions for her skin to heal of bruises and bites. And then there was her ass, which Heather perched right in front of Varcan once she’d done a full circle around him.

She glance up at him over her shoulder and gave him her best doe eyes, lowering her face to the floor. She arched her back, wiggling her ass at him.

Heather bit back a giggled that almost escaped her throat. From her low vantage point, Varcan looked more mighty and ferocious than he already was. The only evidence that he was truly affect by her submissive display was his fist tightening at his side, and his erect cock now bobbing before his stomach, streams of pre-cum dripping down the thick shaft.

“Do you see how much you turn me on?” He said halfway between a scoff and a laugh. It seemed Heather wasn’t the only one being tested this whole time. Varcan’s face was taunt, his eyes burning with horny resentment. “Ever since you first trapped me, all I could do was watch you—hunger for you.” His voice grew darker, bitter. “Knowing all those other jinni’s were fucking their Masters instead of being used for wishes…”

Varcan smacked Heather’s pussy so hard she squealed, covering between her legs.

Which earned her another hard smack across the ass. Varcan had fallen into a fiery trance, his palm spanking her nonstop while forcing her hands away from covering the hits.

“Ow! Master please stop.” She cried, feeling the red hot sting of her cheeks. Her legs buckled and now that she couldn’t hold her position for Varcan, he fell to his knees and forced her to keep her ass in the air for him as he spanked her pussy until she thought it was black and blue.

Once she stopped trying to cover herself, Varcan stopped the brutal spanking, panting heavily. “Good girl.”

Varcan had made her hurt just like Heather had predicted. But even thought tears stung the corners of her eyes, a deep primal part of Heather liked the way he made her hurt.

All she could do was stare at him.

“You okay?” He asked, holding out a hand as he summoned two long red ropes in a puff of magic.

She nodded, but then remember Varcan preferred Heather to use words. “Yes, Master.”

He instructed her to assume a kneeling position with her hands clasping her elbows behind her back. As Heathers eyes lingered on the rope, Varcan proceeded to expertly frogtie her legs and boxtie her arms. Her thighs started to ache with how long the precise knots took to make, but she held still for him until he was done.

Surveying his handiwork, he ensured Heather’s inability to wriggle free by tugging and testing the ropes. Heather now rested at Varcan’s complete mercy, utterly helpless on her knees.

Her heart raced as her voice came out in a breathy whisper. “What are you going to do to me, Master?”

“I’m going to give you a task.” He declared, savoring the mix of fear and reverence in her eyes as he tower over her, he caressed her chin. “Kiss the floor.”

The command confused Heather at first, but when she clumsily fell to the floor—unable to use her hands—she realized why. With her cheek pressed to the cushion floor, Heather caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror that lined the wall.

If she hadn’t convinced herself that she was his sex slave, this position screamed it. Heather’s shoulders and face were the only thing holding her up against the floor, and her feet were suspended in the air as her calf muscles were secured to her thighs by the rope.

It looked degenerate. Humiliating. Her core throbbed at the sight.

Heather blew strands of hair out of her face, catching Varcan’s dark eyes in the mirror. He raised a wicked brow, taunting her.

Right. She kissed the floor and looked to him for approval. “Good girl.” He said, smirking. Heather felt his warm hand glide up her ribcage and back. “This is called the CFM pose.”

Heather crinkled her brow. “What does that stand for?”

Varcan squeezed her ass cheek, and she sucked in a hiss as pain flared. “Come Fuck Me.” He forced her thighs open, and Heather gasped as Varcan dipped a finger into her pussy, teasing her. “It fits you perfectly, don’t you agree?”

Her raw, swollen pussy ached around Varcan, and Heather flushed. When she didn’t answer, he chuckled. She watched him in the mirror as he got down on his knees behind her and fisted his cock.

Varcan slapped the tip against her folds, Heather’s skin still sensitive from the spanking a shiver ran down her spine. But then he rubbed the tip up and down, stimulating her and spreading her wetness thoroughly.

Slipping the tip in, he began shallowly fucking her entrance. Never going the full length, just the head of his cock filled her pussy before it jolted out. Heather whined, her pussy pulsing.

“You sound like you want something.” Varcan teased.

“Why aren’t you going all the way?” She asked.

“You have to beg for it, little pet.” He panted, biting his lip as he pushed in again. “What is it you want?”

“Please I need you cock, Master.” When that answer didn’t satisfy Varcan, Heather scoured her horny mind for something more. “Please, Master I love the way your big cock feels in my tiny cunt, I need you to fuck me deep—“

His hips snapped into her, and Heather cried, her collar tugged back, forcing her head up from the floor. Through strands of hair, she saw Varcan in the mirror pulling the gold chain like a horse’s rein.

“I want you to look at me as you cum, pet.” He ground out, sliding all the way out until the tip and slamming back into her.

“Fuck.” His hard slow pumps were so brutal Heather felt her core tighten, ready to explode. “Yes, Master.”

She let Varcan use her pussy, moaning as she felt his cum dripping down her thighs. Combined with the pressure of the collar against her throat she felt light headed, her eyes glazed over and it was as if she was lost in trance.

“I’m going to blow my load in you so deep, my little pet.” Varcan panted, hips slapping against her tender ass. “You’ll be pregnant for years to come, like the brood bitch that you are.”

Heather had monthly shots, so there was no way she was getting pregnant. But the thought sent her over the edge and she backed up into him, body shivering with electrifying pleasure.

“Master.” Heather cried, her eyes never leaving his in the mirror. “It’s too much.”

This time Varcan wasn’t stopping, and Heather became a bumbling mess. Groaning, he pulled back, watching his cock slip in and out of her wet cunt.

“Yes yes yes.” He chanted, his stomach taut. Suddenly, he leaned over her back, his palms resting on either side of her head. Hips now pinning her to the floor, he drilled into her at an even deeper angle. He growled into the back of Heather’s neck, his hips jolting to a stop as his cock throbbed inside her, spurting. The warm wash of his cum filling her to the brim made her shiver.

They stayed interlocked until they both caught their breath, Varcan slipped out of Heather causing copious amounts of his cum to leak out.

Heather wished she could have seen it, but the expression on Varcan’s face made her smile.

“You take me so well, pet.” He praised, stuffing some of the cum back into her pussy. “I think you were born to take this cock. No one else can.”

There was a weird sense of accomplishment in that. Heather had doubted herself, and expected him to hurt her with it. But surprisingly, it didn’t. In fact, no matter how used and bruised she felt, she still wanted more of Varcan.

He hauled Heather up into a kneeling position, and she felt like she was going to black out with all the blood rushing from her head. She slumped against Varcan’s strong body. “Get me out of these restraints, my whole body aches.” She commanded, knowing full well her knees, thighs, and ass would be killing her tomorrow.

Varcan smiled softly, unclipping her collar while he started to loosen the knots on her arms. “I’ll give you a bath.”

Clicking his fingers, a gold bath appeared. It was one that was deep and spacious, a great size to accommodate one little human and a huge jinni.

Once the restraints were off, Varcan lowered Heather into the bath like a fragile thing. The warm water smelling of roses with a layer of bubbles on top.

Heather sighed, her muscles relaxing. She closed her eyes and smiled. “Aren’t you hopping in? I think I might drown if you don’t.” Varcan chuckled before standing to get in behind her. “As you wish, my pet.”

Water overflowed as he sank down, but magically refilled despite there being no faucet. Living with a jinni would be quite convenient, Heather thought.

And as she laid against his chest, closing her eyes, Varcan’s heartbeat was like a drum against her back.

“It’s nice giving up control.” Heather murmured, reflecting on her time with Varcan. How terrified she had been at the idea of releasing him, to getting fucked and bred by him. Being his little sex slave felt like a fucking holiday. “I almost don’t want to leave.”

“When you leave, it doesn’t have to end.” Varcan said, smoothing his hands down her shoulders. He whispered against the shell of her ear. “I can’t set you free after getting a taste of that sweet pussy.”

His heart fluttered wildly at Heather’s back. A spiking heartbeat like that had to mean he was nervous, hanging on her every word. She tilted her chin up to kiss the side of his mouth, and smiled. “I want you to come home with me, Master.”

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artificialgirl · 2 months

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This is the fourth part of a long-form piece about a robot and a giant computer. It contains adult topics, overt sexuality, blatant robotfuckery, toxic lesbians, unbalanced power dynamics, wireplay, and lots of other things that may be triggering or make you uncomfy. Before reading this, previous chapters are on my blog under the #salvage tag.

THIS IS THE CHAPTER WHERE EXPLICIT SHIT STARTS HAPPENING! If you're uncomfortable with high-intensity robot bondage stuff, I highly reccomend you don't read from this point onward.

Salvage - 04

Time inside - 04D/11H/23M

Levels deep - 50

It's been two days in the room, and you're starting to lose it. Since Ven left you here, you've explored every inch of the empty space, inspected every tool on the table, pulled at every panel, tried the door more times than you can count. You even tried messing with the cable she gave you a bit- If it's removable, you definitely aren't the one who can get it out of your charging port. You're bored to death, and the only entertainment you have is trying to make sense of the foreign datafeed still passing through your thoughts.

It's not like there isn't a way out of the room. Ven made it clear that all you needed to do was call for her and she'd come to bring you whatever you needed. You're sure that would include anything to help pass the time, but each time you start to consider that you push the thought away. It's a matter of principle. Whether she means for you to be or not, you're her prisoner here, and giving in to relying on her would only make that more true.

You sit on the floor with your back to the charging bay you no longer fit in thanks to the cable, absentmindedly swinging at the panel beneath you with one of the pry wrenches from the table. Thin cracks spread across it each time you make contact, almost instantly fading as the material self-repairs. The thought strikes you that Ven might be able to feel the strikes in the same way you feel your plating, and you're filled with guilt. You slide the wrench across the floor, and it makes a soft thunk as it collides with the wall.

Somehow, despite the overwhelming boredom, your emotions are too much right now. You pull your knees to your chest and bury your screen in them, trying to compose yourself and slow your fans a bit. You want to call for Ven, you want to ask her not to leave again, to stay and let you listen to her pretty voice, but you can't. You can't let yourself crumple that easily, no matter how much better it would make you feel. Instead, you try to focus your attention on getting out.

You've tried the door and the walls, but they're all sealed with no way to get a grip on them and pry them apart. The ceiling, though... Your focus shifts to the spot above you where the ceiling panels split to allow your cable to hang through. You shuffle a bit to the side, and as the cable glides behind you the panels silently ripple open to make way for its movement along their perpendicular seams. Your assessment that the room was inescapable may have been premature.

You bring the cord's entry point over to the table, kicking away some of the tools as you climb on top of it. The entry point doesn't look like much more than a few centimeters of parting between the ceiling panels, but that should be all you need. You're just barely tall enough on your toes to jam your fingers into the gap, putting all the force you can into trying to spread the tiles.

While they may have removed all of your weaponry when they activated you, your body IS still that of a combat unit, which means the limb strength to pry and tear through basically anything you can get a firm grip on. They put up a good fight, but eventually the panels buckle and form a gap around the cable big enough for you to hoist your body through. You pull yourself up into the ceiling, and you're out. Easy.

It's evident as you crawl through the cramped space between the panels and the layers of endless machinery that it's not designed for anything but survey arms. You can see dozens of them around you as you drag your cable forward, lenses pressed to the cracks in the ceiling, looking down into the room you were just in. Ven is almost certainly already aware you're gone, but it should at least be much harder for her to track down your exact location and detain you when you're in here.

At this point, the plan is a mix of panic and vague ideas. If you can crawl to the exterior where you came in, you could potentially stay connected to the cable while you signalled the corporation to come retrieve you. There's a good 30% chance they'd repair you instead of taking you apart for scrap, and you're still weighing whether or not those odds are worth taking. You push onward and try not to think much about how this plan requires you to ascend 50 floors without being caught by the near-omniscient being whose body you're inside.

As you drag yourself towards the vague idea of a next destination, you find yourself marveling at the bits of technology you pass. Though most of what's used to keep Ven operational is sandwiched away in the thick segments between levels, you still see frequent reminders of what makes her work scattered and embedded in every surface. Whirring fans, twitching motors, glowing apparatuses you couldn't even begin to guess the purpose of. Then, the path narrows and you find yourself face to face with something you've only seen in design data.

A huge cable interchange fills the entirety of the path in front of you, its dim multicolored glow illuminating the constant action which fills its center. In every wall of the hollow cube, dozens of thick cables are plugged, being removed and replaced and slid around the area to different ports entirely autonomously. You watch mesmerized for a moment, in disbelief at how so many extended cables could be moving in the same space that quickly without tying themselves into a giant knot. Everything is perfectly optimized to move data to different sectors of Ven's structure through wired connections as quickly as possible.

Your amazement fades a bit as you realize that on either side of the interchange is a wall that stretches as far as you can see in each direction. You can see that the space continues on the other side of the interchange, but... Moving through there seems like it's going to be a problem. It's that or turning around and crawling at least a few more kilometers to find another way, so... Interchange it is. It will be fine. You'll stick to the edges, and be through to the other side as quickly as you went in.

You keep your body low to the ground as you drop into the interchange's basin, trying to huddle as close to the corner as possible as you dash from one side to the other. Wires fly on all sides of you, and you duck to narrowly avoid one which nearly snares you by the neck. It looks like you're home clear, though. Just a few more steps until you're at the other edge, and...

As you cross the threshold, you feel something holding you back. You turn and see a dark cable wrapped in a loop around your ankle, thrashing against you in an attempt to get to its designated port. Shit. You try to shake your leg free from the straining cable and find yourself losing the battle, slowly being dragged back into the cube of the interchange despite your scrambling against its pull. The edge of the box reverberates as your hands are ripped away from it, and the cable finally slots into its intended destination with a pop as it pulls you into the air by your ankle. You dangle helplessly upside down and try desperately to wriggle free as the interchange races around you.

A second cable zips around your waist with an L shape, scissoring your body between it and another with an almost mirrored position. More quickly than you even have time to fight against, cables wrap themselves around your body as they rush from destination to destination. Before you know it, you're dangling precariously in the middle of the chamber and bound too tightly to even struggle. You can feel them pressing into you, tightening themselves so much as they strain towards out-of-reach ports that a lesser model's plating would crumple under the force.

They really, really seem to hate how tangled they are. Maybe almost as much as you do. They fling themselves wildly in any and every direction, seemingly unable to comprehend the reason they can't access what they're meant to be accessing. And so, unable to plug themselves into the right places, they settle for the next best thing.

You feel the first plug jam itself into one of the ports on your hip panel, which hangs open and exposed in the commotion. You cry out as the instant rush of data floods your head, making you squirm against the binding cables in a different way than before. Your thrashing stops almost entirely as the ability to feel the cable wrapped around your own body, twitching and pulling against so many others, becomes the only thing you can process.

The cables don't wait for what you can process, though- Almost immediately, each of the dozen ports on the panel are filled with wires, removing themselves and being instantly replaced every few seconds when they briefly realize your body isn't the right port. The dataflow is overwhelming and all-consuming, filling your fuzzy thoughts with ecstasy and forcefully squeezing out the ability to feel anything else.

You're barely even moving anymore- Your ensnared body spasms occasionally, but any will you had to even think about struggling against the pleasure is long-gone. It's hard to tell how much time passes- It could be seconds, it could be years. Everything else has faded away to the feeling surging through you, including your concept of time itself.

You don't notice as the panels around the interchange fold out and open up, revealing your predicament to the rooms below. You don't notice as a figure rises to your level, examining the mess you've gotten yourself into and shaking her head. You barely even notice as the interchange powers down, dropping your limp and twitching body into Ven's inviting arms.

You register that you're comfortable, that you feel safe, that everything that was scary is now gone. You register that her body is larger, more complete, packed tightly with more woven survey arms than you can count as she holds you against her chest. You look up at her, unfocused cameras barely able to see the red glow of her face, and you register that she's beautiful. Then, everything is dark.

#robophilia #robotfucker #ns4w #cw suggestive #robot yuri #wireplay #robot4robot #pov #longer form #salvage #cw rope #cw intense #ven-55 #aelith-03

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