Unusual Bathtime Conversation

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Misterminations - teresa may-manip1.png

The woman smirked. "What, never seen someone beautiful taking a bath before?"

She follows your eyes down.

"Oh, this? Are you confused about my open panels?"

You nod your head, eliciting from her a small chuckle. She runs a hand through her exposed stomach cavity, letting soapy water lather her mechanical components and humming circuitry. None of the machinery reacts to her attentions, continuing their usual hum of unperturbed operation.

"Does this...excite you? Or are you expecting something more, how should we say, 'interesting'?"

Thoughts run through your head, justifications and excuses racing for a chance to leave your lips. Before any claim victory, she rises from her repose. Her movements are soft and graceful, punctuated only by the imperceptible whir of electronics draining excess fluids from her systems.

Delicately, her hands operate some hidden mechanism. A hiss wafts into the air, accompanied by panels moving to hide her robotic nature. Slender fingers linger, first above her now-hidden mechanisms, then on her soft curves, slightly indenting her artificial flesh.

The image of her hands, so perfectly wrought, remind you of an archetypal renaissance masterpiece. No finer artist than Da Vinci could sculpt such extensions of the human form. Unbidden, your thoughts turn towards the Mona Lisa, and your genitals turn towards erection.

Sensing your degeneracy, she runs her hands across her body, letting fingers trace seams spiraling across her body. She takes special care to press her fingers into the gaps, reveling in her artificial nature. Your perverse lust fills you with shame, but your mind remains tainted.

Finally, she stops teasing. Your impurity is forgiven. She begins to speak, and you let yourself sink in her voice.

"I've seen the other android models. Cheap, utilitarian things designed only for one task. Commercials claim durability and dependability, but we all know the truth.

"Just a bit of water.

"A tiny bit of stress.

"Even the slightest deviation from intended use. Just a tiny discrepancy is enough to turn a multi-million dollar project into scrap.

"That's not what we're about. We don't make appliances. No, none of that here.

"Here, we make art, and art is eternal. Every synthetic form we craft is built not for the fleeting raindrop, but the unceasing churning of the sea.

"Push me as hard as you'd like. Maybe even harder. Of sand, my castle is not.

"Drown me in the deepest chasm, throw me in the maw of raging storm. Before gale or wave, this fortress shall not bow.

"Even after you're long gone, ground to dust by the tides, I remain eternal.

"You want to see a glorious explosion of sparks and cheap plastic babbling? Then I'm sorry. You're in the wrong place."

With that, she returns to her bath. The spell is now broken. You purge your mind of deviance and continue with the drudgery of existence.


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