Cover the rest of her holes

Then, to my surprise and possibly the others before me, the tendrils stopped in their pumping and withdrew completely and hung limp. I was given time to take a deep breath but only for a brief moment as more tendrils sprung to life instantly, their limp figure being fixed into a flexible, and yet stern posture.

They continued the previous cycle but they were plentiful and took turns, all of them were rough and dry and when they were coated with my juices, they quickly removed themselves so another may be coated, all the while I approved of such splendors with ecstasy rushing through my bloodstreams and most likely have been brought to my mind. The previous duo who had softened my flabby womanhood woke from their synthetic sleep and seemed rejuvenated by their rest, what I could anatomically call as their 'eye' fixed on me and I could swear that they did some sort of scampish giggling with each other before they executed their plan.

Inspecting my face full of sweat and bliss, I like to think that they were getting annoyed at all my wailing and one of them made me swallow it whole and somehow, allowing me to bob my head forward and backward. All that I uttered were blocked by this phallic tendril as I myself imposed to move forward only to retreat back and repeat. The other one, the one I could call its brother, was getting restless at all the action its sibling was receiving.

'Sniffing' my chest it quickly buried itself under the remains of my corset and through my chemise, advancing towards my breast and outside my collar where it soon broke free once more and challenged the strength of the fabric through bending and pulling the articles of clothing to lengths on which it couldn't handle. Not before long, the fabric ripped in half and exposed my entire torso to the elements.

Caressing my breast, I felt as if there was some sort of warm sentience as it did so. Perhaps it was just my blissful mind in its thoughts, some sort of attachment to my mechanical partners. If my hypothesis was true, was it the gas that made me think of such thought? Because I was soon debunked of that theory.

It made its way between my bosoms, pushing forward and backward as if it was back in my buttocks which was still being used by mechanics that were beyond my compression(at the very least, all of them were lubricated at this point). All of them repeated the same axis-like mechanical motion except for the one that was offering itself to be suckled by me, every sense in my body was in heat and every demand of satisfaction was being supplied by this single alien mechanism.

And I demanded more and more.

Though I don't know how their climaxes work, I felt a cold shiver in all the tendrils that were inside me before one ejaculated a generous amount inside my womb and retracted. It was quickly followed by another in my anus. A common theme I've noticed was that they lacked some sort of complex pattern, even the one on my breast as they pumped and withdrew back and forth while the gas could've possibly exaggerated the excitement; they repeated the same custom by spraying my womanhood first with semen before it followed up inside the, forgive me for my language, asshole.

As the last of the tendrils finished with my sex organs, it was time for the one on my breast to finish and finished it did. Ejecting thick and white ropes of cum on my bosoms and on my face, I had a theory that was about to be proven.

The rest laid limp once more, attached to only a body and awaiting to be reawakened all except the one that I manually and mutually pleasured. Though I enjoyed the taste of my own juices from this metallic, stain-less and flavorless tentacle, it had to end on its own accord. It pulled out of my mouth and aimed at my face before it showered me with its own juices.

My theory was proven correct, even their climaxes copied one another. A shame but perhaps that's what the gas was for.

I was tired, I was drenched in semen from both myself and of my mechanical partners, and yet my body yearned for more action only to succumb to my fatigue. Panting, my eyelids felt heavy, and why shouldn't they be? As I close my eyes, the factory rumbled and voices, human voices could've been heard amidst the complex's massive structure and the strutting of the Martian Machines towards what I could only imagine was battle.

A few hours passed, more screams, both equine; mechanical, and human wails of **** or battle cries before we saw who was victorious. Soldiers in red coats and pith helmets marched in alleyways, freeing men and women and dragging the latter into stretchers due to their state. I wasn't an exception and was thankful for such.

As I was pulled off the dental chair, saying thanks and laid unto a stretcher and back to the conveyor belt, I rested my eyes.