For a few seconds, she just stared at me. Then she chuckled, a low sound that immediately made my entire body tingle. “I didn’t realize you’d take me as dessert so literally. No, it… merely tickled. If you want it to hurt, you’ll have to bite a lot harder.” She sat up slightly, eyes dark with challenge. “Would you like that?”
“It just looked so nutritious.” I swallowed hard, resolutely shaking my head though her offer was strangely tempting. “Oh my god,” I muttered, leaning close to examine her wound. “I went through your skin so easily. There was no resistance.” I glanced back up at her, guilt twisting my face into a frown. “I didn’t… permanently damage your body, did I?”
“Did you think I’m that fragile?” She laughed again, and I sighed in relief. “Our skin renews and repairs faster than that of a human, especially if our bodies are well-fed with five-star mushroom meals like the one you just fed me.” She winked. “This little bite mark? It would take two, three days at most. It’s just that if you bite too far, you might end up seeing my internal core parts – the robot parts – and I’m not sure if you’re ready for that.”
I shivered at the thought, immediately followed by guilt – like a part of me still wasn’t fully comfortable with what she was. At the same time, I knew with every fiber in my body I could never love a human the way I loved her, so I might just have to get used to it. I wiped my stubborn hair out of my face and leaned in to place a soft, tender kiss on the bite mark.
I sniffed, laying my head down on her soft, full breasts. I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt the teardrops run down my skin onto hers.
“What’s wrong, darling?” Zafyra lifted her head slightly. I turned my head to look her in the eye to find the discomfort or embarrassment I expected to be replaced by genuine care. She was slowly learning to be comfortable with my tears.
“I’m just so grateful you’re here.” I sniffed, wiping away a teardrop that was immediately followed by another. “I just feel like I don’t deserve you—”
I gasped when her palm hit my ass – not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to make me shut up instantly.
“What was that for?” I frowned, wondering whether I should be angry or turned on.
“For doubting yourself,” she said sternly, before resting that same hand on my head to stroke my hair gently.
“I’m not doubting myself.” I sniffed. “It’s just—you’re trying so hard to accept me for all my flaws, and I…” I turned my head again, back to bury my face in her boobs – the most comforting place I could think of right now. “Sometimes, I wonder if I’m still having unfair expectations of you.”
“Like what?”
“Like, being human,” I mumbled into her breasts. When she didn’t answer, I reluctantly lifted my head to glance over at her.
She nodded slowly, her brows furrowing together thoughtfully. “What is a human to you?”
“I don’t even know.” I turned slightly, placing my body on top of her so that I could simultaneously cup her breasts and look at her face. “What if the electricity runs out? We’ve been having outages lately – brief ones, only a minute usually, but…” I swallowed thickly. “Would you die?” I asked quietly.
She laughed, as if my question was amusing to her. “I suppose my body and consciousness would go into slumber until the power came back on.”
I went silent for a moment. Every question she answered led to a thousand more, more than my brain could keep up with. She thought nothing could hurt her, but seeing how Somanode shutting down the humanoid she’d harbored in affected her made me doubt how untouchable she really was. She’d hired the contractor so she wouldn’t leave a mark, but how could she be sure they wouldn’t come after us?
“Hey,” Zafyra said gently, followed by a less gentle tug on my hair. “According to Joey, you and I broke the laws of metaphysics to be together. Are we really going to let the fear of possibilities ruin that?”
I gave a brief nod, not entirely convinced. Of course, she noticed.
“You’re doing it again.”
“What?”
“Overthinking.” She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you need another orgasm until we quiet that pretty little overworked brain of yours.”
“I don’t think I can.” I blushed. “Not right now, I told you…”
“I’m talking about me.” She gave another firm tug on my hair before invitingly spreading her legs. “Pleasure me until you’re so occupied, you won’t have time to think about anything else. I want your mouth on my nipples and your fingers inside me. Now,” she added, her playful tone thinly veiled impatience.
“Yes, madam,” I said quickly, excitement pooling between my legs when I obeyed her. Sliding one hand between her damp thighs and taking one of her nipples into my mouth, my anxiety quickly faded to the background like it always did when my only task was following her commands.
Maybe she was right. Maybe we did have all the time in the world to understand this strange situation, to get to know each other for our differences and similarities – right now, all that mattered was her pleasure. And no place felt more peaceful than that sweet spot between her legs.
Epilogue | three months later
Our project took place in a vault-like coworking space rented under an alias, deep inside a Cryptspace facility on the southern edge of Lumis Nexus. Originally designed for high-level legal or pharmaceutical negotiations, the space came wrapped in Faraday shielding, biometric locks, and signal damping, to block all outside signals. The walls were made of matte steel and frosted glass, with insulated walls and programmable smart surfaces glowing faintly with code snippets, neurograph patterns, and Joey’s chaotic moodboards. In 2055, secretive meetings happened more frequently in flexible, rentable rooms like this one.
At the center of the room, a single black pod sat like a throne wired into the floor. Inside, Elyssa and Lucie were recording another session – the last out of five. Joey, Zafyra, Raphael and I had already recorded our stories, sharing our experiences with Qonexis and Somanode.
Raphael’s snort, followed by Joey’s raised voice, made my head turn in their direction. The two were sitting next to each other at their usual desks, per usual alternating between arguing and flirting.
