♥ First law of robotics ♥

Author's note:
Hi Everyone! Tabbycat here! Just popping in to say OMG 300 chapters deep and still going. I honestly didn't expect the story to be running this long, or for it to have this many dedicated followers. Thank you all so much! I also didn't intend for the 300th chapter to be a smutty one, but a certain rogue had other ideas when I was writing the last couple of chapters, so here we are. Enjoy!

Dustin followed Defia slowly back to her quarters, debating whether this was wise. After everything they’d been through together he trusted the rogue Fractal, and if she said that Rye had approved them taking the next step it should be okay but even so… The memory of his bunny girl explaining what exactly was going on with all the singe marks on Defia’s bunk was still fresh in his mind.

Seemingly detecting his concerns, Defia paused in the entrance. “Statement. If you are not sure you wish to do this, I understand. There will be other opportunities for us to be intimate in the future; we can instead merely sit and talk or you may watch something while I paint you again if you prefer.”

Shaking his head quickly, Dustin reached past the pitch-black woman and tapped the panel to open her door. “No, it’s fine. If you’re sure, and Rye’s confident that it’ll be safe, that’s more than good enough for me. I trust you.” He said, his breath close to her ear where he was leaning over her.

Defia’s red eyes went very wide at that, and she half-stumbled into her quarters. “St..statement. I believe your proximity is triggering some instability in my emotional synthesis. Within expected parameters” she added hastily “but it is… more vibrant than I was led to believe.”

Glancing around the room, Dustin took in the neat bed, the messy paints and the canvases propped up along the desk to dry and smiled at his Fractal. “How do you want to do this, Defia?” he asked, gesturing around the room before adding “this is technically going to be your first time. I know that most aliens don’t put the same weight on it as humans, and you’re synthetic so I guess that’s even less of a consideration for you, but it matters to me that whatever we do is what you are looking for.”

In answer, Defia’s lips pressed against his. Dustin moved on automatic - months of making out with multiple women had him pressing forward, his hands moving to cradle her head and back as he returned her kiss. The rogue Fractal’s body was firm and insistent as she pressed against him while she allowed his tongue to invade her mouth, a marked contrast from the others. Pulling back gently to speak after a moment, she looked at him with eyes that had darkened to the colour of glowing embers.

“Statement. I have experimented with visualizing one hundred and thirty-seven concepts for our initial intimacy, along with a further two hundred and eighty-one featuring a more general concept or the presences of others in close relations with the prime unit.” Defia’s eyes sparkled as she reeled off the statistics before adding “Addendum. For our first intimacy, I would like to test that my climactic response will not be harmful in a safe manner. Please therefore use your fingers to get me off. If that is safe then…” she paused, cheeks glowing slightly before she added “…if it is safe, then I would appreciate you being specific about how you would like me and for you to take command. You are the prime unit, and you are significantly more experienced in these matters.”

Dustin raised an eyebrow. “That sounded suspiciously like you want me to order you around, Defia. I’m not opposed to the idea - god knows Emely and I have that kind of relationship, but are you sure that’s what you want for your first time?”

The Fractal bit her lip and nodded, before tugging Dustin’s arm gently towards her bed. Given he’d seen the woman punch through metal plates, the gentle eagerness coupled with insecurity in how she silently requested he move only fueled his belief that she was being genuine in her request to give up control.

Letting her lead the way seemed rather contradictory in that case. Wrapping his arm around her waist, Dustin stepped forward, Defia giving a very human-like squeak of surprise before allowing herself to be pulled down to sit beside him on the mattress. Adjusting his position, Dustin leaned against the wall of her bunk, moving the pillow to one side until he was comfortably ensconced, then patting the space between his legs. “Sit.” He said, the word lacking something of the confident firmness of tone he usually took with his Feliax submissive where he was feeling out Defia’s reactions, but never the less still clearly an order.

Defia shifted her weight, raising her body just enough to move over his leg before settling down so that she was sitting in the space he’d made for her, her knees drawn up under her chin. Dustin ran a hand over her shoulders; he wasn’t entirely sure what pace she wanted, but tracing his fingertips down her sides caused the woman in front of him to lean back into his touch appreciatively.

Shimmying herself back slightly so that her ass pressed into his crotch, Defia’s hands moved to draw Dustin’s around to her front, one being placed firmly on the curve of her hips while the other was tugged lower to rest on a perfectly smooth surface between her thighs. “Inquiry. You are sure this is okay?” she asked, voice soft with emotion.

Dustin leaned forward and kissed the back of her head. “Of course, Defia. But how…” he cut off mid-sentence, the firm smoothness of her body shifting beneath his fingertips to allow those digits to slip into a soaking wet heat. His grip had been firm before she’d changed; the absence of resistance had him pressing down hard on her sex before he restrained himself, the Fractal arching into his touch and letting out a moan of pleasure in response to the sudden stimulation.

He’d not been sure what to expect about the Fractal woman’s sexual capabilities; she was synthetic rather than biological, after all. He needn’t have worried. Whatever model she had made internally to allow herself to be intimate, it seemed that it functioned externally just like any other. Dustin’s fingers, trained by months of practice in pleasing the multitude of women who shared his bed began to explore the heat of the red-eyed woman’s sex, and within moments she was lifting her hips into his touch, his other hand’s presence on her hip forgotten as she clawed at her breast and moaned wantonly.

“St..st…statement…please… don’t stop, I am… close.” Defia’s words came out crackly with static; whatever the impending orgasm was doing to her mentally, it was messing with her ability to replicate biological functions as her breathing became erratic - she didn’t need to breathe, only imitating it for the benefit of not looking creepy to the others aboard, but now it was clearly getting beyond her to maintain even that illusion. If she had not been bucking her hips into his touch and whimpering, Dustin would have panicked when her chest stopped its steady rise and fall moments later. Instead, he held her close, his fingers moving to stroke her clit with ever more rapid circles.

Dustin waited until Defia was clearly on the very utmost edge - then pushed his fingers down from her oversensitive nub to thrust fully and rapidly inside her. The Fractal woman seized up, her entire body flashing with a deep red glow before she let out a gasping, shuddering moan, her inner walls fluttering around his questing fingertips as she came apart under his touch. To Dustin’s immense relief, not even a solitary spark leapt from his lover into either himself or the bed while she thrashed in his arms.

He held her as she came down from her orgasm, murmuring quiet praise into her ears until at last Defia resumed her imitation of breathing with a gasp. As her chest began a steady rise and fall once more, he moved the hand that was not currently soaked in her juices up to stroke her hair. “Well done” he murmured, leaning in to kiss the back of her head. “You didn’t electrocute me. Looks like whatever you’ve been experimenting with worked.”

The void-black woman turned her head almost fully around to kiss him; Dustin blinked before relaxing into the kiss. She was, after all, comprised of a swarm of adaptable cells much like Bleu. There was no neck to snap by turning her head one hundred and eighty degrees, which had its benefits in the current situation.

This time, it was Dustin’s turn to break the kiss. “Defia, how much would your art be damaged by the desk being shaken about?” He asked, glancing at the paint-smeared surface.

Tilting her head to one side, Defia blinked. “Statement. Those pieces are dry enough that they would not be significantly damaged even if they were knocked over. Why?”

“Because I’d like you to sit on the edge of your desk with your legs spread, so I can take you amongst your paintings.” Dustin said, earning himself a far-too-toothy smile and the sight of Defia almost losing her natural grace and face-planting on the floor, so quick was she to try and position herself for him.