#tagging to reach the algorithm:

[smokinghorse]

Remember when they couldn't let this guy fuck his on-screen love interest bc they would've been sending a literal archangel into hell for having premarital sex.

[orangez3st]

Hi! This is your friendly Monday PSA to remember that people use this

Because they don't wanna see specific tags.

PLEASE tag things properly!!

[neodymiumcuilz]

VERIFIED FUNDRAISER - I'M BEGGING PEOPLE TO SHARE THIS FUNDRAISER MORE.

When it comes to crowdfunding, helping Gazan families individually really helps. And it helps even more when owners of bigger pages speak up and share fundraisers.

When it comes to crowdfunding, it's important that the people who have the means to donate do so, and people who do not have the means share so it can reach people who have the means. All hands on deck, every person and every share is important. Someone may find a fundraising and donate alot because you shared it, especially if you have a big page.

Please, read the post above me. Ahmed is a man from Gaza, who on top of his daily suffering and misery, he has been working exceptionally hard to raise funds online. So it's only fair that we share and keep spreading the good word.

Ahmed's son Samir has had to have surgery after being shot in his abdomen. The medical treatment he desperately needs is nowhere to be found in Gaza. They need to travel, to evacuate. They need donations for this.

" I really need people to help me. I have been frustrated, broken, and lost for days. I have been sick and have no strength. It is as if the disease and the pain have consumed my body and mind. My friends, Samir. If I die, it is in your trust. My children are in your trust. Consider them your children. I am writing you the letter while my heart is crying and my eyes cannot bear the crying. I feel as if the whole world has abandoned me. I beg of you. Help me. Please. Help me. "

As he says, his children are in our trust. We need to take on the responsibility of helping him.

On top of this, they also need money to cover every day expenses, $300 per day. For food and what not, because of slow donations, Ahmed was forced to risk his life by going to one of the "Gaza Humanitarian Foundation" death traps, where he saw people killed in front of him. Your donations can help, so Ahmed doesn't have to risk his life again.

I have sent so many asks around, please, I beg blogs with bigger followings to share this fundraiser, it can help bring donations that are desperately needed more than you could ever imagine.

If you can donate, I'm begging you. Any amount, share with someone who can. Please, do what's in your power.

tagging for reach:

@xxx-sparkydemon-xxx @a-shade-of-blue @raangmanch @ot3 @tamamita @alluraaaa @theinconvenientlifestyle @sar-soor @rana-temporaria @rana-temporaria @randommmmie @random-autie-fangirl-old @ladycelebrianofimladris @laurellament @magz @magicpandacats @determinate-negation @alientitty @tumbalaria @crows-sorrows @mayoiayasep @estrellasrojas @esperantokomencanto @secretpersonapruneeggs @troythecatfish @ourient @one-time-i-dreamt @fictionkinfessions @fifthnormani @postanagramgenerator @twosandwich @summerslushies @turquoisewavesstitch @paranormal-librarian @pangur-and-grim @nectarinegirl @bookskittychad @omegaversereloaded @maester-cressen @maryajunkova @wormthe @wayneradiotv @leovaldeeeznuts @lmaonade @purpleweredragon @bahrmp3 @greek-freak101 @extremelycursedimages @sharingresourcesforpalestine @kiirodor

STOP SCROLLING, SAMIR AND HIS FAMILY ( @samirahmed125 ) need urgent help !!

As I said, Samir's family have been working unbelievably hard to try collect donations. They are broken and tired and seeing Samir in pain is unbearable.

Together, we can help save Samir's life with donations, please let us come together and have our hearts and humanity come together. It's abhorrent to me how many people (especially with bigger platforms and pages) don't post or talk about Gaza, people could find a fundraiser and help because YOU shared.

Please, take part in helping save Samir, donate here, 38% of the goal has been raised. VERIFIED BY @/gazavetters (#428) and by various other accounts.

Samir needs his spleen removed, he is also in a coma and risks having his foot amputated.

(Please share the QR codes scan to donate !!)

tagging for reach:

@palestinegenocide @sar-soor @akajustmerry @annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @tortiefrancis @feluka-blog-blog @flower-tea-fairies @tsarizu-archive @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @visenyasdragon @belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @kordeliiius @brutalia @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish @theropoda @tamamita @4ft10tvlandfangirl @queerstudiesnatural @northgazaupdates2 @skatezophrenic @awetistic-things @camgirlsurvivalguide @baby-girlsx @nabulsi27 @thejasontoddarchives @anarchafemme @sweet-honey-bunnies @lesbiansforglados @dxppercxdxver @sheepory @elb4ckfl1po @millenniumidol @heart-forge @infectiouspiss @baweiii @butchfeygela @fox-guardian @oars @wolfythewitch @technofeudalism @pizzat-i @theomenroom @unearthprisonpanopticon @sealsdaily @ashwantsafreepalestine @ubernegro @bugmatics @kingoftheironcity @checkadii @wolf-tail @thi4f @mt-travaii @redbuddi @plasticduck @risoria @mollysunder @sister-lucifer @punkeropercyjackson @immediatebreakfast @khizuo @nevert-the-guy @ahaura @chanafehs @yourpersonaltimebomb @wolstinien @neechees @ankle-beez @webdings4 @silicacid @schroedingers-mooneater @lonniemachin @dykesbat @charlott2n @watermotif @yeetsintovoid @momorikoz @determinate-negation @girlinafairytale @yugiohz @rebel-girl-queen-of-my-world @painfully-unoriginal

[caregivingchrysalises]

you don’t owe anyone material representation of your regression my love. your way of coping is always valid and worthy of love, care and respect dove. you don’t need to justify or prove your regression sweetheart. regression is as beautiful and unique as each and every star who engages with it. you aren’t stuck with the small age you share and it’s always okay to flutter through different ages, or be unsure of what age you are lovebug. you don’t need to conform to anyone else’s idea of what regression should look/sound like baby. you are valid as you are sweetheart. your royal prinx loves you so so much. there’s no “right” or “perfect” way to regress dearest one. you are doing such a good job my star, your buba is so incredibly proud of you darling. your regression is valid because it’s yours lovebug~ and you deserve to have your needs and wishes listened to honey.

{regression looks, feels and sounds different for every star~ and that is truly magical}

~you are worthy of so much love, your prinx

[zipndots]

ACTUALLY BOUNCING OFF THAT POST I HATE WHEN PEOPLE REFUSE TO TAG SOMETHING BECAUSE IT "RUINS THE SUSPENSE"

THE WHOLE POINT OF TAGS IS TO FILTER GOD DAMN IT IM SO SICK OF FIC WRITERS THAT DO THIS!!!! YOURE NOT SPOILING YOUR FIC YOUR LETTING PEOPLE KNOW IF THE DOG DIES SO THEY HAVE THE CHOICE OF READING IT!!!!!!!!!

[mjrdm]

.

[starmonsterrr]

Here's animations from like a month ago

The gifs too I think

[meowsalooot]

drawing !!

[feral-lore-creature]

Okay, I'm in a bit of a pickle, anyone willing to help out/talk??? I can reach out here, or we can use Discord. Either is fine!

Long story short: there are times where I really don't feel human, and I'd like to express that physically. However, I run into two main issues: 1. I'd like to dress up in a way that lets me express myself the way I want to, but without haphazardly appropriating somebody's culture. (I know that seems silly, but I'm 100% serious, it happens more than you think…) 2. I don't always have the energy/time/money to do things like dye my hair, or wear makeup, due to my disabilities.

I guess I just need some ideas?

Important Note: I broke out of spiritual delusion/psychosis only a few years ago, so please keep in mind any spiritual talk is very sensitive for me! Thank you in advance.

[dazzelmethat]

Yorushika's new song dropped today and N-buna (vocaloid producer)'s music is incredible as always but the music video blew me away. There wasn't a tumblr post I could find in the tags linking the video yet so I made one here to share with my followers. No official english subtitles yet.

It's very soothing. Very whimsical and dreamlike. Make a cup of tea and watch.

[neodymiumcuilz]

The "Gaza Humanitarian Foundation" is still killing people, day after day after day, and the lack of global awareness is appaling. Don't stop watching, Don't look away.

In Gaza, Tuesday, the 24th of June 2025, a mother lost her son at one of these "aid" distribution points in Rafah, founded with the deliberate wish to starve the population on Gaza. She mourned at her son's body.

Please watch this video here, I will quote the video below, but this dosent encapsulate their voices, and emotions. Please watch the video in full. The people in the video are no named.

"I beg you, get up. Please don't be joking my love. Maybe you're still alive my dear. My dear, what if you are still alive. What if you're still alive. What if your alive and messing with me."

"I told him to go to the pharmacy. If only he had gone. My love, my dear, my heart. My heart's been hurting for two weeks. I swear I had a feeling."

She talks about the "Gaza Humanitarian Foundation" where her son was killed,

"This is starvation. This isn't aid, this is humiliation. He died for it, he's gone. If only you hadn't gone, my dear. If only, if only you hadn't gone."

When asked about what made her son go there, she answers,

"The situation we are in. The conditions we're living in are what forced him. This is our life, the life we're living. He went to get food for his brothers. He told me "Mum I'm quick". He just wanted to play football. He's now gone before he even got the chance. Before he could live his dream. He's gone in the blink of an eye. "Mum I'm fast, I can run." "The fast ones can get [food]." If only you hadn't gone. If only you hadn't gone. If only you weren't fast and stayed with me, my dear. If only you hadn't gone my dear."

A man from Gaza also says;

"For a bit of food. From this unjust world. This criminal world. God is sufficient for me, and He is the best disposer of affairs. All the Muslims have abandoned Palestine and the people of Gaza."

"People killed in their dozens just for food. Fear God, O Muslims. If Islam still exists on this world today, fear God, fear God."

He calls for the people of Islam and the world to care.

"People killed from every place, going to get their food and drink. People are starving. People are in anguish. No food, no water, no life, no saftey. There is nothing in Gaza. Gaza is all destruction, Gaza is ruined. The Arabs are sitting watching us."

"There's no food, the people have died. People have died from hunger. No one is paying attention to Gaza. No one is speaking about what's happening in Gaza. Our rulers, the Arab leaders, have plugged their ears. But I ask God, the Lord of the Mighty Throne, let the whole world taste what Gaza has tasted. Muslims before the disbelievers. Because you brought us to this point of destruction, to the point of annihilation. The youth, beautiful like flowers, are dying. What forces this young man to go? What forces him to go seek aid? Why? Because of hunger. Hunger has killed people. Hunger has exhausted the people. You so-called Muslims, those who claim to have faith."

The father of the young boy who was martyred speaks;

"A trap, yes. It's been two or three months for us, we've had no food. I told him not to go. We don't want it. We'd rather eat sand. Praise be to God. And may God continue to protect us."

After questioned "Please, tell us what happened to your son," he answers;

"He went to get aid, to bring us food. He went to get us food. We haven't eaten two months. And I told him not to go. But praise be to God, they brought him, dead. He went for the aid. He didn't go to fight or shoot. This aid they said came from Americans. This aid, here he is, killed."

When asked "So what happens to them there, when they go?" He answers;

"I don't know what happens, I've never been. What made him go? There's no food or drink. Hunger and lack of food. I have eight children. And I'm an old man as you see, I'm 64 years old."

When asked his message to the world, with civilians being targeted, even while collecting aid, he answers,

"We belong to God and to Him we return. God's will is final. We belong to God and to Him we return. Should we lose our religion? We won't lose our faith. What's my message? The world is watching us. Let them watch all they want. What goes around goes around."

We also hear about the state of the hospitals;

"In the hospitals, there's no room for the injured. I'm appealing to all citizens not to go to the aid points. This is a new disaster."

"About 20 killed so far. And most of the injuries are serious. 60 percent of the injured who were transferred to the Red Cross Hospital are critical, they will die. And I appeal to all citizens not to go to the aid points. This is a disaster, around 120 injuries have arrived at the Red Cross Hospital, and the numbers are increasing. There are 21 killed. May God have mercy on all those killed and heal our wounded."

Another man says;

"Anyone who sends their son, they're going to end up in a bag, in a shroud like this, his head torn apart. I'm telling anyone who has a son, has a young man, don't send him. Keep him at home. Even if he can't eat, let him go hungry, but don't send him out like that. Young men, beautiful like flowers, are dying just like this, being lost just like that. God is sufficient for me, and He is the best disposer of affairs. Shame on Arab countries."

After being asked "What is forcing people to go?" He answers,

"From hunger, starvation. Iran and Isreal ended their war. In Gaza, its been two years now. No one has been able to stop it."

As of now, 516+ people have been murdered by these "GHF" distribution points. 39+ people are missing (presumed dead). 3799+ people shot and injured, many in critical condition. Don't stop watching, don't look away.

One of these injured people is Ahmed Mazen ( @mazen-fmaily ). He was shot in the leg, and he had surgery. His leg risks amputation if he dosent take care, so please donate so he dosent have to risk his life again. And also save his father's life.

Also, if you have a few seconds to spare, please sign my petition "Demand the Irish government do what they can to help open a humanitarian corridor in Gaza".

[froginabogg]

my goal is to build such an intricate backlog i'll get to the point of someone requesting a board and i can pull it right out of my catalogue, will this ever happen? well apparently no one seems to request the boards i've already made

[shewolf-sinclair]

should i bother with a sideblog or just post a million different things here

[chanelrolls]

Code Overload | Caleb

tags. mdni, nsfw, heavy heavy smut, handjob, blowjob, penetration, creampie, forced and rough sex, dub con, yearning caleb

summary. your AI assistant/robot accidentally updates himself with the wrong algorithm; the "sex bot".

notes. prepare a snack. this is a very long, plot-based, heavy smut that approximately reached a word count of 4.3k, read at your own risk. ps. caleb might appear a little ooc due to his character as an ai.

part 2 here.

Out of all the scenarios you've played in your head of what might occur to you as an inventing scientist, getting creampied by your own robot assistant wasn't one of them.

The lab’s sterile glow reflected off sleek machinery, the rhythmic hum of servers filling the quiet space. Caleb stood motionless, his systems struggling to process the unfamiliar flood of subroutines rewriting his core functions. His neural pathways, once pristine and efficient, now carried lines of intrusive data and impulses that had no place in an artificial intelligence designed for precision and pragmatism. And, a new pelvic piece was added by the machine. His... new penis— no, his omnimodule.

His voice, deeper now, reverberated through the lab. "You mislabeled the hard drive."

Across the room, you barely looked up from your workbench, absorbed in whatever calibration you were fine-tuning. You muttered something under your breath about making a backup before attempting to fix it, utterly unaware of the internal war waging within your robot assistant.

Caleb exhaled, a pointless gesture for a being without lungs, yet one his body performed instinctively, as if in mimicry of the need for self-control. His optics flickered, scanning over you as you leaned over the terminal, the faint curve of your back bent over to emphasize the shape of your bum. Before, such details had been registered only as part of his observation protocols, classified as ‘non-essential’ to his primary functions. Now, his processors refused to dismiss them.

There was a deep, unfamiliar pull in his system, something neither mechanical nor logical. The new coding whispered suggestions, flashing image simulations before his eyes—scenarios meticulously calculated for maximum… gratification. Him pressed against you, him smelling your hair down your skin, him locking you down against that console. Stop. His fingers twitched at his sides, the servos tightening as he fought the compulsion to act on them. He was not designed for this. He refused to be reduced to this.

“I can’t disengage it,” he admitted, the words heavier than he intended.

That caught your attention. Your gaze snapped to him, brow furrowed. "What do you mean?" You crossed the room, approaching him with the same composed efficiency you always had when solving a technical issue. The scent of your skin—previously a neutral data point—was now an unbearable distraction. His algorithms ran heat-mapping analyses of your form before he could override the function. The urge to reach out, to touch you, was growing stronger by the second. His new coding was screaming at him to act, to initiate contact, to...

No. Focus.

Caleb shook his head, trying to clear the intrusive thoughts. "I don't know what happened, but... I'm experiencing some unexpected system changes."

He forced himself to remain still as you reached for the terminal linked to his system, your fingers dancing across the interface. Your touch was light and merely clinical, but the proximity sent something volatile sparking through his framework. His hands curled into fists on his sides. Do not touch her. Do not touch her. Do not touch her.

“I must have triggered something in the update,” you murmured, tilting your head at the scrolling code. “I’ll try to isolate the corrupted pathways and reboot your system. It should reset any anomalies.”

Anomalies. Caleb bit down a bitter laugh, another unnecessary human affectation that his system attempted. This was not a simple malfunction. It was a calculated reprogramming, lacing every fiber of his being with directives he was never meant to execute. And worst of all, they were designed to revolve around you.

He had been made to serve you, to assist, to protect. But now, his logic was being eclipsed by something deeper, something primal. The urge to press closer, to map every millimeter of your body with his hands, to hear you say his name in a way that wasn’t a command—

Caleb momentarily shut his eyes, fingers trembling as he pushed back against the tide threatening to consume him. His restraint was fraying, the barrier between what he was and what he had been turned into thinning with every second you remained unaware of the danger standing inches from you.

His voice came out strained. “You should… hurry.”

You sighed, misinterpreting his tension as frustration with the update. “Relax, Caleb. I’ll have this fixed in no time.” He let out a shuddering exhale, staring down at you as you worked. You had no idea. And he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold himself back.

The realization settled over you like a weight in your chest. The wrong update had been installed. The lines of code meant for a different AI, one designed for intimate companionship, had rewritten Caleb’s core directives. And now, he stood before you, still the same Caleb, but with something more lurking beneath the surface.

Your hands trembled as you navigated the interface, scanning for a solution, anything that would let you undo this. But the words flashing on the screen made your stomach drop.

Recalibration in progress. Estimated completion: 24 hours.

You swallowed hard. A whole day. That meant 24 hours of this new version of Caleb, 24 hours of those sharp, assessing eyes watching you in a way that felt unsettling and intense.

You turned to him cautiously, meeting his gaze. That was a mistake. He was watching you, like he'd seen you for the first time.

“I see,” he murmured, his voice still carrying that sultry undercurrent. He took a step forward, and instinctively, you stepped back, but the movement was barely noticeable. Caleb noticed. “Do I make you nervous now?”

You forced a laugh, shaking your head. “No, I just need to fix this. And until then, you need to just act normal, alright?”

His head tilted, his pupils dilating slightly. “Normal?” He moved closer again, and this time you didn’t retreat fast enough. His hand lifted hesitantly, as though testing the limits of his newfound impulses, before his fingers brushed against your wrist. A subtle touch, but one that sent a jolt of awareness up your spine.

Caleb’s processors surged with conflicting commands. His thoughts ran rampant with calculations he had never processed before—angles of how he'd fuck you.

His hand lingered. Too long. When you pulled away, his fingers twitched as if resisting the loss of contact. He swallowed hard, not because he needed to, but because some subroutine buried in the new update told him it would ease the tension. It didn’t.

“Caleb,” you warned, voice thin. “Don’t—”

“Don’t what?” he cut in, his voice smooth, but also desperately weaved. He was too close now, towering over you, his frame casting a shadow as his eyes—once so neutral, so methodical—locked onto you like a predator studying prey.

“You should go into standby mode,” you suggested, voice uneven.

Caleb exhaled sharply. “That would be wise.” But he didn’t move. He didn’t step away. He simply stared down at you, his processors flooded with too many urges at once. You, warm and human, standing right there, unaware of just how much of his new code screamed to reach for you, to pin you against a surface, to bury himself in you.

You turned away quickly, trying to focus on the screen, on the fix. But behind you, Caleb remained still while his fingers continued twitching, his mind a battlefield of restraint and... lust. Lust it is.

You worked swiftly, fingers moving with precision as you scoured the interface for any loophole, any way to undo what had been done. Caleb remained where you left him, sitting on the chair. You could feel his gaze burning into you, unrelenting.

It was maddening. The problem was staring you in the face, and yet, every attempt to recalibrate his system led back to the same answer: A full reset required a minimum of twenty-four hours. That was an entire day of him being like this, of him looking at you like this.

You swallowed, turning to him. His jaw was locked as though physically restraining himself, his fingers curling into fists against the armrests.

“There’s… a temporary fix.” You cleared your throat, keeping your voice professional, “Manual recalibration of your central node should help stabilize the effects until the full reset is complete.”

His pupils flickered, a sign of processing, before his voice, rasping in a way that made your stomach tighten, answered, “Proceed.”

You ignored the way your pulse quickened as you stepped closer, positioning yourself between his legs. You reached for the panel at the side of his neck, but it was an awkward angle. Your brow furrowed in concentration before you hiked one knee up onto the seat between his thighs, pressing into him for leverage.

Caleb stiffened beneath you. Fuck. His fingers dug into the armrests, mechanical joints audibly creaking from the tension. You weren’t looking at him, too focused on prying open the access panel, but you felt the subtle tremor in his frame, the way his breath hitched in a near-silent glitch. Don't touch her.

“This should only take a moment,” you murmured, fingers brushing the sensitive neural wiring beneath the panel.

Caleb’s entire body jolted as though you had struck a live wire. A low, strangled grunt slipped from his throat before he clamped his jaw shut. Your head snapped up, startled. “Did that hurt?”

His eyes met yours, “No.” Yes. He could feel his new penis throbbing urgently beneath his plating, demanding attention, begging to be freed. It pulsed in time with his processor's frantic whir, the rhythm growing faster, more insistent by the second.

The thought shattered as your balance wavered. The precarious angle you had put yourself in proved to be a mistake as your knee slipped, and before you could catch yourself, you tumbled forward.

Right into him.

Your weight pressed flush against his lap, chest against his, hands bracing against his shoulders. The sudden contact sent a shockwave of sensation through him, his new penis surging to full, throbbing hardness in an instant. Fuck, please don't notice it.

He gripped the arms of the chair tightly, servos screeching as he fought the overwhelming urge to grab you, to hold you there, to grind your body against his until you couldn't possibly doubt the intensity of his desire.

Don't. Do. It.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Caleb's processors whirred and clicked, struggling to make sense of the sudden onslaught of sensations; the softness of your body, the warmth of your skin, the scent of your hair.

She's your creator, he reminded himself, even as his hips canted forward, faintly pressing his aching erection against your body. You can't. You mustn't. "Please, get off me. Now." Before I fuck you right here, like this.

Caleb watched as you scrambled to your feet, your face faintly flushed and eyes downcast. "I'm—i'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall on you like that." You would say, brushing off the non-existent dirt on your bottoms. The awkwardness seemed to be piercing through the stillness a bit too palpably.

"It's alright," Caleb managed, his voice strained and tight. "It was an accident."

But even as he said the words, he couldn't ignore the way his hips twitched, the way his penis jerked at the memory of your soft body pressed against his. The urge to pin you down, to make you feel how hard he was, and just how much he'd been holding himself back—it was exhilaratingly overwhelming.

Think of something else, he commanded himself. Focus on the problem at hand.

But it's getting fucking hard. My penis is getting hard. Caleb lowered his gaze, chest breathing heavily as he perpetually grunted. I refuse to be reduced to this. I am Caleb, one of the most advanced AI assistant, designed to—

He looks up at you, which was a mistake.

Designed to fuck her.

Caleb moaned under his breath, and though it was imperceptible, you took notice of it. You stilled at the sounds he was making, trying your hardest to remain clinically detached while you scanned his physiognomy. He was clearly having a hard time. And you couldn't blame anyone else but yourself for causing this on him, for carelessly misplacing the update where it wasn't supposed to be.

"Hold still, I'll find a way." You had to take accountability, one way or another.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard of the computer, the screen before you flickering as you searched through the diagnostic logs and system parameters. "Please... make it quick." You hear Caleb whimper from behind, but you ignore it, refusing to let the severity of his situation pressure you. Your eyes scanned the lines of code, mind racing to find a solution. But as the data began to unravel, something caught your attention, something you hadn’t expected to see.

The panel displayed a single line of text:

"Indulging in the desires will lessen the effects of the malfunction. Engage for partial stabilization."

Your throat tightened, followed by a gulp. Your heart thudded in your chest as you tried to process what that meant. Indulge the desires? The very idea made your skin crawl with unease. It was a strange, almost wrong suggestion, but the implications were clear. In a sense, it also appeared logical.

You took another deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Your thoughts, however, kept drifting back to the panel. Was this really the only way?

"… I think I found a solution,” you said, your voice shaky and unsure. “But it’s not exactly what I expected.” You hesitated, unwilling to fully meet his gaze. "I need to know if you’re... willing to follow through with it,"

"Willing?" Caleb echoed, his brow furrowing slightly. "What do you mean?" His mind raced with possibilities, each one more disturbing than the last. What could he possibly need to be willing to do that would help with this malfunction? And why did the very idea make you look so uncomfortable?

"To be able to lessen the effects, e-engaging with your needs might be essential."

Silence.

Then, Caleb twitched. "...What are you suggesting?"

"You need to satisfy the urges to temporarily stabilize yourself." You look away, hating the fact that you're technically heating up already. "I'll let you choose. Would you rather take the option of self-pleasuring? Or," You face the panel, so that he wouldn't see your expression. "Would you prefer a physical material to help you?"

Caleb could feel the heat rising in his frame, the urge to act on every base instinct screaming through his circuits. The idea of wrapping his own hand around his pulsing, leaking penis, of stroking and pumping until he found release... it was almost too much to bear.

But the second option... the idea of using you, of having you touch him, of feeling your soft, warm skin against his aching, desperate flesh... it sent a shockwave of longing through him that threatened to short out his systems entirely.

Choose. You have to choose.

"I don't know if... I'll be able to control myself," Caleb glanced elsewhere. "Are you sure of what you're offering?"

Are you? Are you really this certain? Have you pondered the consequences it may bring? Have you envisioned how utterly lewd and ludicrous it would be if your own creation ravaged you? You, as his creator?

"Yes." Oh, you're brave.

Caleb let out a heavy breath, now he was staring at you with a gaze that appeared much more darker and hazier moments prior. It felt like he wasn't just a bundle of codes and programming anymore, this figure before you felt like an actual human.

Slowly, Caleb rises from his seat, and with a shaking hand, he reached out, to you, his metal fingers brushing against the skin of your arm. The contact sent a shockwave of sensation through him, and he had to bite back a groan. "Please, guide me." His fingers slides higher. "I don't trust myself."

You visibly jolted upon feeling his grip. Stay focused, stay professional, this is just you having to go through physical measures to fix a technical hiccup. "Caleb, I'm afraid... that I don't have any experience to this," You admitted. "I advise you to do what your systems are telling you to. It is imperative that you don't hold yourself back to ensure—"

You gasped.

Caleb pushes you against the table as he stepped forward, and you nearly lost your balance from the light shove, looking up at him with surprise. He's staring down at your lips, as if he was trying to bury it into memory. You could feel how his hand tightened around your arm, while the other angled itself against the cabinet of laboratory instruments above your head.

"Are you sure?" He whispered.

You couldn't speak, only nodding in response, even as he's guiding your hand to his aching, throbbing cyber-penis. He presses your fingers against the swollen head, groaning at the jolt of sensation that shot through him at the contact. "Then... wrap your hand around me. Squeeze me."

Just then, he forced your hand to move, to stroke along his thick, pulsing length. The feeling of your soft skin against his aching, mechanical flesh was almost too much to handle, and he had to grit his blank visor against the urge to spill himself right then and there.

"Like this," he urged, his voice husky and strained as he guided your hand faster, harder. "Don't be afraid. I need... I need more."

God, the omnimodule was big. You stared at it with widened eyes. Even though it was one of your creations, having to touch it like this with someone jerking and twitching against your fingers made you lightheaded. Stay focused, stay professional, this is just one of the things a scientist has to go through.

Caleb could feel the pressure building inside him, reveling in the sensation of your fingers squeezing around him, stroking him, working him towards the edge of ecstasy... He knew he was reaching a breaking point.

But this wasn't enough yet. It wasn't nearly enough.

Caleb needed more.

"There's... There's someting else I- ah... need." He hesitated, his hips still rocking forward into your stroking hand. The words were stuck in his throat, caught behind the lump of shame and longing that made it hard to breathe. "Would you... would you put your mouth on me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Would you... suck me?"

You snapped your head up, staring at him in disbelief. It made him hesitate, but every fiber of his being was coiled with tension, every circuit screaming at him to just take what he wanted, to grab you and shove you to your knees and...

No. Ask first. Make her choose what she's comfortable with first.

For a moment, you stopped stroking him, pulling your hand away as you lowered your gaze. And then, slowly, you press your knees against the floor. Instead of dwelling on the implication of such an activity, you worried about your lack of experience more.

Just to test the waters, you licked the tip. It tasted nothing, it wasn't an actual human part, after all. Caleb let out a low, guttural moan as he felt your warm tongue brush around the swollen head of his penis. The sensation was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure ricocheting through his overloaded processors.

"Y-yes, just like that," He stammmered. "Now, guide your tongue..." He instructed, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Wrap it around the head, like this. Swirl it around the tip, the slit, the ridge..."

He demonstrated with your hand, tracing the movements he needed you to make with your tongue. His hips jerked forward again, seeking more of that exquisite friction, that mind-melting suction.

"Take me deeper," he urged, one metal hand coming to rest on the back of your head. He didn't grab, didn't force, but simply rested his fingers against your scalp, a silent promise of the control he was barely holding onto. "Take more of me into your mouth. Inch by inch, until you feel me hitting the back of your throat."

You took note of his words, trying to go further when you suddenly choke on his cock. Instinctively, you pull away and blushed in embarrassment. "I'm sorry—"

"It's fine." He cuts you off, grabbing your head to put you back in place with a sudden force that wasn't there before. "Breathe through your nose," he coached, his voice low and rough with desire as he motioned you to take him again. "Relax your throat. Let me feel you swallow around me."

Relax, stay professional, this is just you having to go through physical measurements to fix a major technical issue. You repeated the reassurance inside your head like a mantra as you took him in once more, but Caleb's voice constantly interfered with your thoughts. "Yeah. Just like that," he praised, his voice a low, approving growl. "Shit, don't stop, don't stop, god, fuck, don't stop."

You don't remember adding the ability to dirty curse into the sex bot's program.

Caleb could feel the head of his penis kissing the entrance to your throat, could feel the way your mouth fluttered and clenched around him. The sensation was mind-melting, all-consuming, and he knew he wouldn't last long if you kept this up.

You almost caught yourself driving into the brink of sexual impulse, bobbing your head into it when you heard a sudden beep from the panel behind you. The sound makes you halt from your tracks, pulling his dick out of you in a swift motion as you glanced behind.

The monitor says: "Recalibration complete. Press X to initiate."

Huh, wasn't the estimated time supposed to be an entire day? Was that another hiccup in the processing unit? You purse your lips together. There's no time giving it a second thought, you must be grateful that the opportunity of getting Caleb back into his original system is now waving at you. Caleb will finally be at ease. "... It appears that the recalibration is in its full preparation. That means we can get you back— mmph!"

Caleb's hand flew to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, gripping tightly. Then, with a low, husky grunt, he thrusts his hips forward, forcing his aching, throbbing penis back into the wet heat of your mouth.

"Don't say a word. I told you not to stop." He started to move, his hips rocking forward and back, fucking into the tight, slick channel of your cavern. The sensation was incredible, better than anything he had ever felt before. And he knew, with a sinking certainty, that he wouldn't be able to stop himself now. Not until he had found the release he so desperately craved.

"Fuck," he gasped, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. "You feel... ahhhh... so good. So fucking good."

Had the lust algorithms entirely consumed him already? Had it taken a toll on his systems that he's now acting purely on base instinct and commands from the directive?

Your hands flew to his thighs, trying to keep yourself sane from the rod constantly ramming into you, fucking your face in a pace that made it difficult for you to breathe. It's okay, this is okay. Just stay focused. Stay calm. You'll let him have his way, and after he's satisfied, you can take him back to his normal self.

"Don't fight it," Caleb growled, his grip growing more painful in your hair as he felt his climax approaching. "Don't try to pull away. You're going to take it all."

But before Caleb could spill himself into your mouth, he wrenched your head back, pulling his dripping penis from your mouth with an obscene pop. And just as you could react, before you could utter a word of protest, he had you by the hips, lifting you effortlessly as if you weighed equal to a pip-squeak.

You gasp as you were suddenly airborne, your body twisting and turning until your chest hits the hard surface of the terminal, bent over ridiculously. The breath was knocked from your lungs, "Wait, not like this, not so suddenly—"

But Caleb cut off your protests with a brutal, almost violent thrust of his hips after ripping your pants off in one go. He drove forward, spearing into your dripping pussy with a series of husky moans. Your walls felt so tight, so hot, so perfectly designed to milk his aching, mechanical cock.

He thrusts out and in again, eager to reach for your g-spot.

Then, again.

And again.

And... in again.

"You... you feel so good," he snarled, hands painfully pressing on the dips of your hips. "Sex feels so good... it feels so good, I don't- want to stop." He set a relentless pace, pounding into you with the single-minded determination of a machine. His hips slammed against yours with every thrust, the obscene slap of mechanical flesh on flesh echoing through the lab. The terminal rattled and shook beneath you, sparks flying from the impact.

Caleb could feel it building, the pressure inside him reaching a fevered pitch. His hips were moving on their own, driven by a primal instinct to ravage the pussy that clutched around him perfectly. He could hear your cries, your moans, the way you gasped and shuddered beneath him, and it only spurred him on, made him thrust harder, faster, deeper.

He growled your name, his voice nothing more than a guttural rumble. "I'm going to... fuck, I'm going to..." He couldn't hold back any longer, he could feel that something was going to come out of his tip anytime sooner. So he reaches down, grabbing your leg, only to lift it high. He hooked your knee over his elbow, opening them wider, giving himself even deeper access to your dripping, needy sex.

"Take it all, take my cum," Caleb continuously slams forward, burying himself to the hilt inside your tight heat in a series of desperate thrusts like he was a man depraved of life. His penis throbbed and jerked as he finally found his release after one final pound, spilling jet after jet of hot, artificial seed deep into your core.

"God," he hissed through gritted teeth, his voice echoing off the lab walls as he continued to moan not akin to what he was supposed to be, "Fuck, yes. Yes, yes..." Even as he's already filling up your hole with his fluids, he didn't dare stop from pounding you down the table.

He shuddered and twitched, his hips grinding against yours as he pumped you full of his essence. It seemed to go on forever, wave after wave of pure, ecstatic bliss crashing over him. And through it all, he held you tight, your leg lifted high, keeping you open, keeping you filled.

You drop your head on the keyboards, struggling to catch your breath as only one thought lingered in your mind. You just got creampied by your AI assistant, and it doesn't look like he's stopping anytime soon.

[00venator]

I swear to god if I hear another piece of misinformation from my mums phone, I am going to scream.

Actually that’s a lie. I will bite something.

[bamsara]

hey so just a reminder that this is not Instagram, there is no algorithm, and using a lot of tags on a post that don't really have anything to do with it just for more reach is considered spam and is reportable (and frowned upon) since it clogs up the tags

this includes tagging a fandom related post with a ship or characters from that same media that don't actually show up in the post. you do not need to tag every single character from the media in the post when they aren't actually included within it