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Gabriel awoke to find the bright optic of the machine gazing at him, a rather usual way for him to awaken these days, considering it did not require sleep, but liked to lay with him as he rested. It had been unnerving the first few times, stirring to have that savage circle staring into his essence, but now, he found it more concerning to rouse upon muted lights or darkness, for that meant that the machine was absent, and he could not be certain what mischief it had accumulated during his slumber, he could not truly be certain that it would return at all. That yellow glow upon him now was comforting, to put it simply, a reassurance that he wasn’t alone, that the machine had chosen to stay beside him.
Whether it be for his blood, or for the new life growing inside him, he still could not determine.
The latter had been a shocking discovery, of course. Despite the copious amounts of seed that had been generously donated to his womb, Gabriel had not considered that their biologies could be compatible in any way, had allowed the machine to push in raw again and again and again without any worry of the consequences. Not that the repetition really mattered, for he was rather sure that he’d already been successfully impregnated after their first copulation.
They’d become bound from the start, and now they needed to prepare for the pair of little ones that were slowly incubating within him.
The thought was terrifying, the thought was warm. The thought filled him with a new sense of purpose, while also instilling into him a sense of dread he had never experienced before. He wanted to protect them more than anything, and while he knew himself to be a strong and seasoned warrior, he could not deny the utter safety he felt from that optic light upon him, knowing that the one being who could ever defeat him now watched over him as he slept. Sometimes he wondered if that was the point, if the machine simply wished to preserve its mate and unborn kin, but it was hard to gauge its nature, and Gabriel wondered if it even understood its own impending parenthood. Sometimes it acted like it did, would rest its hands or helm upon his growing stomach, would seem content in pressing close to where its future children lay beneath. It was also careful in where it took blood from him, would gouge his arms and thighs and neck freely, but avoided digging its claws near his guts. It was careful with him, even with how roughly it fucked him or tore open his skin, it seemed to know that some restraint was necessary.
And that was enough, for now, whether the machine stayed for love or for self-preservation, Gabriel was simply happy for the company.
“You don’t garner boredom during your watching?” he asked it, voice still lingering with that grogginess of sleep, that quiet croak that arose with every syllable as though his throat were not yet used to making noise.
There was perhaps a subtle tilting to the machine’s helm, as though the question confused it, but, beyond that slight motion that Gabriel was not truly certain he had seen, the being across from him gave no indication that it had heard his words.
“I’m not going anywhere, V1,” he added then with a tone of amusement, addressing it with the designation he had eventually realised was written so clearly upon its chest, “You need not stare so much.”
He’d escaped from it during their first encounters, but surely it understood that he had no intention of doing so again. Part of him did question sometimes, that, if he should suddenly disappear, how desperately would the machine try to hunt him down? It relied on him, his essence kept its tank full and its body functioning. With no one else remaining in Hell, it would find no other sustenance but him.
The machine needed him, and, in his own way, he needed it.
It probably wasn’t the most romantic reason for them staying side by side, but Gabriel was content with it, and the machine had given him no reason to assume that it felt otherwise. The arrangement worked for them, and that was all that mattered.
Unsurprisingly, despite his words, it simply continued to gaze upon him. But Gabriel was sure he saw movement in the mechanisms behind its optic glass, something that was reminiscent of the lens of a camera closing in to enhance the zoom.
“Smart ass,” he chuckled, endeared all the same.
His complaint had not been genuine regardless, and he had no desire for the machine to look away.
Separate from that, however, his body was starting to feel stiff from lying in the same position for so long, and so, he let out a tired sigh as he shifted his weight, rolling to be rested on his back instead, feeling the heft of his own belly upon him now, feeling the blanket slipping down further off of him to reveal more of his form. He also noted the way his chest moved with the motion, the muscle there starting to feel plumper with the progression of his pregnancy, jiggling a little now that it lacked the firmness to stay static. It was an odd sensation, and he stared down at his own body to see how much it had changed over these months. His pecs were starting to look like breasts with how swollen they had become, standing as soft mounds upon his chest, larger and more distinct. Behind them, his belly was so profusely bloated, growing heavy around the two lives within them, the skin etched with silver marks where it had been stretched. His formally toned body was near unrecognizable now. So many ample curves replacing what had once been hard muscle, even his limbs had suffered from it as his body seemed to gather fat in preparation. It was subtle, but his thighs were larger now, matching with the minute growth of the cheek above them, adding to the morphed silhouette of this new and stouter build.
This change would have been mortifying if not for the excitement that accompanied it.
He’d never expected himself to be a father one day. He’d spent his life as a weapon, after all. In both hands he had wielded a blade, and upon his skin he had felt the soaking of blood beneath his gauntlets. They were rough hands, palms and knuckles calloused with his constant training, and he never could quite remove that scent of iron that had lingered upon them. His grip with stern, accustomed to the firm grasp one needed upon their hilt. His voice had always been gentle when necessary, he spoke with soft tones when addressing those who were beneath him, but he had never claimed the same for his body, hardened as it was for battle.
But soon, these rough hands, the ones that were familiar with the weight of a sword within them, would feel the weight of his children instead.
It wouldn’t change who he was, and it wouldn’t diminish that which he had chosen for himself, that which he had strived for. He’d feared that the shifting of his body would be more upsetting, that it would feel grotesque and wrong, but no, he thought about the little beings he would one day meet, and somehow all of this felt worth it.
Besides, he was sure the machine would find it agreeable to spar together afterwards. Their fights were thrilling, fun, and it would be a good means of moulding his body back into its prior form. Though, given the frequency of their copulations, finding himself in this same position again felt very likely, unless they invested in some means of protection.
Part of him didn’t quite want to though.
But that was a consideration for later, and he returned to his studying of his body, gazing down at the soft curves and evidence of their debauchery. Coming out of his tired state, he realised that he could feel a bit of an aching on his chest, a strange form of pressure, perhaps the skin struggling with the increased growth. Tentatively, he lifted a hand and splayed out his fingers, pressing them down upon the surface of one of his pecs, so that the fingertips were pressing into the plump skin, all while his palm remained risen. The digits were like bars of a prison surrounding his nipple, the little nub visible between them, but currently still left untouched. He pressed down to feel just how much the formally firm muscle would give, to see just how swollen the soft flesh had become, and he witnessed just how much the skin indented inwards under his own fingertips, little areas turning concave from the pressure.
But that all seemed to matter very little against what else happened in that moment, as the force upon the bloated area had his nipple stirring, and Gabriel was left staring in utter shock at the white substance that suddenly sputtered up out of him, a feeble little drop that started to trickle slowly down his skin.
“By the Father,” he gasped, pulling his hand away sharply to prevent any more of that substance from being pushed free, “I- I’m-”
His sentence was cut off as he saw the machine abruptly sitting up beside him, leaning closer, clearly wanting a better look at the strange liquid. It watched as that singular drop slowly trailed down the curve of the breast, so bright against the contrast of the angel’s dark skin, shining under that intense optic light. With minimal volume within it, that little speck of fluid moved at such a minute pace, leaving a sheen trail behind it that almost faded from sight entirely, but left a glossiness in its wake. The machine tilted its helm in a way that seemed curious, and Gabriel was left flustered under the attention, a sound that was half a cough falling from his throat as he tried to find his voice.
“Pay- Pay that no mind, machine,” he managed to stutter out, only to be very blatantly disobeyed.
With no regard for his order at all, V1 began to reach a hand over, and, despite his initial protest, Gabriel made no attempt to stop it. Mostly because he knew how stubborn the machine could be, and partly because he knew he would need to educate it on this anyway. With great interest, it dragged a finger up the underside of the angel’s breast, scooping up the small drop with the motion, its finger tip flicking against the nipple and making the whole pec jiggle as it pulled away. Gabriel flinched at the brief touch, finding the nub there to be more sensitive than usual, responding with such a coldness to that momentary touch, a sheer iciness that seemed to burn under the surface.
The machine pulled its hand back up towards its own optic, studying the fluid that was upon its finger more closely, as though trying to deduce what the substance was.
“It’s milk,” Gabriel answered for it, “It will be for nurturing our young, once they are birthed. It’s… earlier than I expected,” he admitted in a tone that was almost sheepish. For, realistically, he’d known that his body would reach this point eventually, but he’d foolishly assumed that he would have more time before this would become a concern.
V1 didn’t seem to pay him much attention, however, still staring so intently at its own hand, at the milk that Gabriel could not see from this angle. The angel once again found himself questioning if it truly understood, if it recognised the reasoning for why Gabriel’s body had changed so much, if it listened and knew that they were procreating together. He’d explained it, of course, but the being was limited in how emotive it was, and Gabriel often worried that he was projecting more humanity upon it than it was actually capable of.
A concern he hoped was unwarranted, but one he had all the same.
Some seconds passed in silence, a moment without any interruption for the angel, left with little choice but to ruminate in those thoughts. But then the machine finally appeared to come to some sort of conclusion, as it began to move, starting to lean over Gabriel now, looming from beside him. Its green arm braced the collective weight by grasping at Gabriel’s shoulder, seemingly ensuring that it avoided putting pressure upon his stomach. With its own body hanging over him like this, its blue hands hovered above his chest, and its desire was so abundantly clear.
A whine fell from Gabriel’s throat, a noise that was a mixture of embarrassed and needy. He should have known that the machine would wish to indulge, he should have known its curiosity meant that it would not stop after only witnessing a single drop. Quite easily he could tell it to fuck off, he could simply refuse it this if he truly wanted, but, as humiliating as this was, he knew he would not deny his machine.
For, in the end, their curiosities were often matched.
“D-Do as you will,” he murmured out, speaking in that noncommittal way that he was well aware would be taken as a challenge.
The machine liked him eager, after all.
But it accepted those words for now, and Gabriel groaned at the first proper touch upon him, as the machine pressed its hands closer, splaying the fingers out and grabbing at his chest, cupping each soft mound against its palms. It gave them a gentle squeeze to begin with, clearly wanting to feel for itself just how plump his breasts had gotten, but even that minute touch was enough to have more milk starting to drip out, and Gabriel felt it rising from him, trickling out of his nipples and smearing onto the firm metal against them.
“Aah-” Gabriel gasped out, airy and quiet, feeling his senses flustering from that ever-persisting shame that still dogged him, “They- They sure are full,” he muttered, feeling dumb for stating the obvious, but struggling to think of what else he should say instead.
He heard the machine’s cooling fans starting to whirr then. Clearly it agreed with, and liked, the angel’s deduction. It gripped down again, a little harder this time, and Gabriel was barely able to stop the heady whine that teased at his throat, as he felt more of his milk being coaxed out of him, pooling against the machine’s palms.
It clearly wanted a better look, however, for its hands pulled back then, and its digits dragged in to play with his nipples directly, pulling on the areolas, twisting the soft skin between firm fingertips, causing more of that white fluid to squirt out.
Gabriel was unable to stop his own whimpering that time, his body feeling hot with that mixture of humiliation and desire. His nipples were more responsive than they had ever been before, feeling both cold and hot under that touch, the attention sending a warm shiver directly down into his cunt. His knees twitched along with that trembling within him, his hands grasping down on the sheets beneath him, toes stretching out and finding themselves pulling against the blankets, dragging them down so that more of his lower body was uncovered, his folds starting to feel the briefest touch of the cool air.
Part of him wanted to look away, to stop peering at this twisted and voluptuous form that hardly resembled himself anymore, but something kept him stuck in place, as he watched his skin bending in so easily under the machine’s touch, as he saw how effortlessly it moulded him. Its optic was so bright upon him, clearly thrilled, clearly enamoured with the substance coming out of him, and somehow that fixation alone made this feel so good.
He felt comforted knowing that this affected not how the machine saw him. His body had changed, momentarily or not, but V1’s desire for him had remained just as strong, just as relentless and unending.
Thus, his view remained on his own breasts, and on the hands touching him. He could see the fluid being coaxed from him, could see the way sputtered up out of his nipples, only to be left dribbling down his pitch-dark skin. It trickled down upon the curves, droplets that rolled and lost volume in their trail, meeting the crease where the plumper skin met with his firmer torso, splitting and beginning to trace the line of his cleavage. But then the machine started pinching harder, and now Gabriel witnessed the splattering of white upon the machine’s plating, another stark contrast against the paint of black and blue, as it tugged on his nipples to ensure that the milk would squirt out further. Gabriel whined in a prolonged sound, legs twitching again, starting to pull in more, his body starting to desire pressure. His attention was stolen, however, as he gazed dizzily at the milk upon V1’s palms, and he realised that he could see the fluid getting thinner, as though the small puddles were drying quickly, retreating against the solid metal. It was something that he had seen often, had watched the red of his blood fading upon the machine, had seen droplets twist and disappear as they were sucked into its plating. He saw this, and, had he eyes, they would have gone wide.
“Machine,” he questioned, hoping that he was simply mistaken, “Are you… Are you absorbing it?”
It didn’t respond, but that satisfied rumble of its engine seemed to be answer enough.
“Machine!” Gabriel baulked, “You- Stop that! Your body was not designed to process such a thing! You’ll give yourself a-” he paused briefly as he considered his words, “a tank-ache,” he said with an obvious uncertainty.
It ignored him, a fact that wasn’t too surprising, really, and those two blue hands continued to tease at his nipples, pinching the sensitive nubs between the fingertips, pulling on them and urging more of that white liquid to splatter out of them. Gabriel could feel them become more perky under the attention, more stimulated and hard, the plump bits of flesh being rolled between thumb and index. Gabriel groaned at the sensation, his head finally falling from its lifted position and pressing back against his pillow, spine arcing in a way that had his chest pressing up more into the machine’s hold. The attention there bordered on painful, fingers too tight upon him, but that fact only had the heat in his groin building higher, as wetness began to tease at his opening, as the pleasure in his breasts travelled through his nerves and had his body becoming willing.
“V- V1,” he croaked out, “That- That milk isn’t for you.”
It wasn’t a protest, not really, simply another reminder that this substance would not satisfy it.
But the machine didn’t seem to like the sound of that, and it gave his nipples a harder squeeze as it pulled on them once more, the force of the pressure making the milk squirt out against its palm. Gabriel whined out as his cunt clamped down on nothing, walls quivering with his need, wet and warm and needy. But V1 didn’t stop there, one of its other hands were moving then, the red one, first grazing the fingers over his rounded stomach, trailing the skin and circling the breast until its claws were upon the plump upper side of it.
Gabriel knew exactly what to expect, even before he felt the sharpened tips beginning to dig into him. It was a sensation that was all too constant now. He groaned as it started carving into him, slicing small letters to fit neatly upon his breast, all solid lines with no curves. It had become a game between them at this point, to try and guess what the machine was cutting into him, to mentally visualise the placement of each slice and deduce what they spelt before the machine was done. Gabriel had been successful a few times, had picked up on the multiple curves that were required for the start of the word “slut”, but he often found himself distracted during this game of theirs, too filled with pain and pleasure to truly focus on what letters were being etched into him, and thus, he was more commonly the loser in these rounds. Such was almost the case now, as the machine sliced each line into him, and Gabriel could do little more than to whine and moan as his skin was cut and his nipples were teased into leaking. But some vacant part in the back of his mind took note of the up and down motion of the first letter, and he felt the familiar three cuts of parallel lines that made up part of an E at the end. Four letters, he was certain, and the start was either a W or an M, he couldn’t quite focus on the direction well enough to tell which. But that was enough information for his mind to supply him with an answer, and he made a sound that was almost a laugh when he realised what was now displayed upon his skin.
For he was certain that it was MINE.
It was an airy noise, shaking between his moaning, and he could not be certain that his humour was displayed in it at all, his tone too burdened with his strain and pleasure.
“F-Fine, all yours,” Gabriel breathed out, “All until our little ones are born.”
V1’s fans whirred happily at those words, pleased that its angel remained so willing. It moved that red hand away now that its demand had been obeyed, and it focused again with its onslaught of his breasts, drinking down the milk shamelessly. It kept gripping at the sensitive nubs, determined to see more of that white fluid sputtering out of them, making a mess of both his skin and its own palms. Gabriel peered up again, nauseous, vision spinning, and he could see the residue of droplets upon his own stomach, tricking down, having splattered out far enough to reach his swollen abdomen.
Being covered by his own blood had become so normal to him, feeling globs of liquid pouring down his skin was an expectation at this point. He’d never expected he would feel that same sensation with milk instead.
It was so bright upon him, a stark white that looked pearly against the vividly dark backdrop. Like speckles of stars upon a night sky, there was something surreal and beautiful about it. But another particularly rough tug on his breasts had his head rolling back again, a whine tearing from his throat as his cunt clenched down upon nothing. He could feel that warmth growing within his groin, and his legs squirmed with every twist and pinch of his nipples, thighs trying to rub together, trying to force friction against his own folds, doing anything to feel even the slightest surge of pleasure.
The lack of anything was utter torment, and his body shivered with his need, whimpers growing higher with every second that passed without proper satisfaction. The machine kept switching between touching his nipples directly, and between teasing the softer skin of his areolas. It would start tugging at the further rim of that darker circle, slowly beginning to draw its fingertips in more, until they were pinching at the base of the sensitive nub, and Gabriel sobbed out at the harder gush of milk this urged out from him, feeling it rise up in an amount that was utterly obscene, before splattering back down upon him. The machine had ensured to keep its hands out of the way this time, giving the fluid free passage to shoot upwards, but it clearly didn’t want the fluid to go to waste, as it cupped its palms and fingers down upon the messy skin, soaking up the liquid as it rubbed the plump skin tenderly. But once the splash was thoroughly drunk in, it went back to its focus on his nipples, lifting its hands again so it could watch the substance pouring free. It seemed determined to test his limits, twisting the nubs to the point where the attention there had them stinging, milk struggling to trickle out with how tightly they were being squeezed. Gabriel sobbed and arched back again, pulling so roughly on the sheets that he feared for a moment that he might tear them, lifting himself so that most of his profuse weight was balanced on his shoulder blades and his outstretched toes.
“M-machine,” he croaked out, that single word a plea, carrying the heft of his desire within it.
Those two syllables were all it took, as V1 stopped then, and, with a sudden flourish, it gripped at the blanket instead. The fabric was barely draped over Gabriel’s legs at this point, but still, the machine yanked it up and away, making it flutter in a way that seemed far too dramatic for such a simple act, leaving the angel’s body entirely exposed to it. Gabriel yelped at the shock of it, feeling the sudden rush of cold over his knees, but he wasn’t given long to linger on that, as the machine was moving now, gripping at his legs and lifting them, placing itself between them, letting Gabriel’s feet drop only to have his heels propped up against its shoulders. It loomed over him again, half starting to fold him as it leaned close, making his own thighs press up against his stomach. It was a cramped position, but Gabriel didn’t protest, not when the machine was quick to start groping at his chest again, its hold there bracing its weight. It squeezed his breasts harder, and Gabriel could feel the liquid coming out of him, could feel that pressure within his nipples as the fluid was sputtering out. The milk was somewhat warm against his own skin, trapped between him and the machine’s palms, lingering there only momentarily until it was drunk down into the plating. Some of it slithered out from the harsh grip, trickling out from between the machine’s fingers, starting to drip down the mounds of his flesh. That constant surging of substance out from him was such an odd feeling, as the machine kept pawing at him, swapping between gripping down and relaxing the grasp, as though massaging his chest, forcing the milk out in constant squirts.
It should have been more off-putting, it should have been too perverted and wrong, but it seemed that every day Gabriel was learning more and more about himself, as the machine kept dragging him over the lines of obscenity, just to make the angel realise how much he belonged there. It taught him to enjoy pain, it taught him to enjoy pleasure, and now it was teaching him to enjoy whatever fancy happened to strike it each hour.
Gabriel had already sunken too far into those depths to start complaining now.
As its degeneracy continued, as it remained groping at him and drinking down the fluids that splattered free, the angel was momentarily pulled from his haze as he heard a familiar sound, a metallic shifting that had filled the air of this room all too often, the whirring that told him that the machine’s cock was pushing free from its casing. He could not deny the way his cunt clenched down in anticipation, walls squeezing down as though they expected to feel that rigid length within them already, only to be disappointed by that feeling of emptiness.
“Y-You’re vile,” Gabriel mocked breathlessly, barely able to hide his own eagerness within his tone.
Taking those words as a provocation, the machine changed the angle of its hips, rocking them downwards to grind its length against Gabriel’s cunt, the shaft pushing the folds wide around it, smearing that natural slick against its plating. The angel moaned at the sensation, legs trying to kick out, thumping harsh against the machine’s shoulders, his entire body trembling with his need. He could feel that firm length brushing against his clit with every surge forward, the rigged segments offering just that extra hint of pleasure, making fire dance up his nerves. The blunt head would bump up against his stomach, leaving droplets of precum upon the rounded skin, all before drawing back to repeat the action again. It was too slow a pace, too teasing a motion, and the pressure simply was not enough. Gabriel’s throat felt tight as a long whine slipped free, as he struggled to move his own hips given the weight of his own belly above him, trying desperately to feel the flare of the head more directly against his opening. He needed more, not these scant touches and mocking depravities, the machine had ruined his body too much to ever be satisfied with something as meagre as this.
Still, he tried to hold out as long as he could, partly because of his stubbornness, partly because he knew the machine liked tearing down this front he kept putting up. But that shaft remained rubbing between his plump lips, remained brushing his clit and sending those brief surges of pleasure into his groin, and Gabriel felt the heat of it within his mind, felt the smoke like a cloud, making his thoughts feel so blurred.
“Y-You win, machine,” he gasped out perhaps too easily, patience bleeding away, voice trembling along with the shaking of his limbs, “I-I’m vile too, just- just fuck me.”
The machine must have felt so smug then, having finally urged out the eagerness that the angel had been trying to hide. Its fan kicked in heavier again, a sound that was oddly stuttered, roaring in a way that Gabriel hadn’t heard before. He dismissed it as excitement, and was too distracted by his own, as the machine was finally lining its cock up, the head pressing snug against his wet slit. Gabriel panted out, ready and needy, breathy with the height of his desire. He felt the machine pushing forwards, felt his walls beginning to spread open around that thick width, but then, so abruptly, the machine was pulling away, and Gabriel was left staring in utter shock as it keeled over, rolling onto its side and grasping at its abdomen. The angel sat up quickly in a panic, struggling with this motion given the weight, reaching over as he looked down at the machine frantically.
“V1?” he called, voice high instead with urgency, “What happened?”
It turned to lie on its back, beeping with a miserable sound, still gripping at the metal where its engine must reside beneath. Its optic flickered in a pitiful way, staring up at nothing as its body continued with that odd noise that roared out from within it, whirring as though its insides were displeased.
And it was then that it finally clicked, and the sigh that the angel released then was both relieved and unamused.
“I warned you,” Gabriel scoffed, even as he stroked his fingers tenderly against the side of the machine’s helm, trying to bring it some comfort, “This milk is not meant for you. Surely you must have realised that this would happen.”
It raised a hand feebly then, and, in one of its rare shows of deeper humanity, it balled its fingers into a fist, and lifted up its thumb, in a gesture that Gabriel could only assume was supposed to convey “totally worth it.”
Gabriel would have rolled his eyes at that. Instead though, he continued to stroke his dumbass machine’s optic rim, wanting to give it a different sensation to focus on rather than the protest of its engine.
“Well, not much more that we can do other than to wait for your engine to churn it out,” he sighed, admittedly a little disappointed by the ridiculous interruption, “We should get some more blood within you as well, try and drown out the unwanted fluid as best we can.”
The machine gazed at him weakly, seemingly considering his words. He waited to see if it would offer any sort of response, a nod perhaps, or maybe another risen thumb, but instead, its hand moved, index finger stretching out as it started to point at something. Gabriel followed the direction, only to find his gaze ushered straight at its hard length, the member still standing tall with interest, seemingly unaffected by the torment its body was under.
“Surely you jest,” Gabriel bluntly responded, “Your insides are in agony, and yet, sex is still your priority?”
It simply continued pointing, finger shaking a minute amount, though, whether that was to show haste, or whether that was simply the machine’s body convulsing, Gabriel could not quite tell. Either way, its request was clear and unwavering, focus remaining on the fixation for pleasure. Gabriel scoffed again, the machine was being ridiculous, its foolish curiosity had gotten it to this point, and now it had no choice but to suffer the consequences.
He thought that, and yet, the angel could not deny that his own body had been riled up during that teasing. His heart was still racing, frenetic with an excitement that refused to go stagnant, and that wet warmth spreading in his groin was utterly unbearable without anything within him to sate him. The machine had done a fine job in making his body tremble and writhe, and it seemed like such a waste to do nothing with this needy energy that had been so meticulously built.
“I suppose you would benefit from a… distraction,” he conceded perhaps far too easily, trying to keep a hint of sternness in his voice, to pretend that this surrender was an obligation rather than a shared desire, “I will provide that, if- if I must.”
It was hard to refuse the machine when he wanted this just as desperately.
Despite how sickly the damn thing still looked, there was now a victorious air about it, a fact that became all too obvious as it started patting its hands down upon where its leg joints met with its crotch plating, beckoning Gabriel’s attention towards its lap. The meaning behind the gesture was all too obvious, and Gabriel glared at it, unimpressed.
“Going to make me do all the work?” he grumbled, even as he made the effort to start sitting himself up.
In response, the machine lifted its shoulders for a brief moment, in a motion that Gabriel could only assume was meant to be a shrug. Not like it could help it, after all, its body was still screaming in protest, and it likely lacked the energy to fuck him properly. Frustrated as he was, Gabriel still managed to get himself onto his hands and knees, and he crawled over in a cumbersome manner as he tried to perch himself upon the machine’s lap, exactly where it had beckoned him to.
“You are lucky I-” he started with a scoff, only to stop as he considered the next word, “-that I’m fond of you, machine,” he eventually supplied, trying to convince himself that he intended to end the sentence that way from the start.
V1 stared up at him, meeting his gaze, looking in a way that the angel hoped was fond as well. Momentarily, he worried if his weight upon it was too much, only to quickly dismiss the thought as he recalled just how sturdy this menace was. Besides, it wasn’t as though he could pull away now, not when its hands were already finding their place upon his hips, lazily beginning to scratch at the skin, drinking down the trickles of blood that seeped up, droplets that looked like a necklace of red beads with the way they followed the line of the cuts. Gabriel let out a breathy sound at the sting of pain that arose from the machine’s attention, and found himself agreeable to the sensation, as always. It was a constant in their joining, that mixture of bliss and agony that always left him feeling so deliciously weak. He was yet to taste that tang of sex within his senses, the permeating scent of cum and slick, without also having himself overwhelmed with the sheer stench of iron. Even their gentler of copulations still ended with the tearing of his skin and the emptying of his veins.
He wouldn’t have it any other way.
Sitting as he was now, he could feel that rigid length pressing against his ass, the metal warm and wet from his cunt’s fluids. He did a few experimental motions of his hips, making the shaft grind upon him, just to feel those firm fingers digging into his flesh more, obviously riled up by the simple pressure. But the machine was impatient, and Gabriel could feel it trying to urge his hips up, clearly wishing to be buried within him already. Were he less flustered himself, perhaps he would have drawn this out, just to feel some sense of power over the usually dominant machine. But his insides were so painfully empty still, and he wished to remedy that fact quickly.
He followed the machine’s coaxing, lifting his hips with great difficulty, bringing himself above its length. He rarely needed preparation these days. He was fucked loose almost daily, and his body seemed so needy with his pregnancy hormones, keeping his cunt so slick and eager for it. The harder part was trying to reach around his own swollen belly to keep the machine’s cock held in place as he lowered himself. It was firm in his grasp, the leaking precum wasting no time in dripping upon his fingers. He brought his hips down slowly, struggling to do so with his own weight, and he felt the kiss of the head against his cunt lips, felt seed and slick already beginning to mix together. The flare of its thickness was a lot, it always was, and Gabriel groaned as he felt the pop of that first segment slipping inside him, stretching his silky channel wide around it.
No matter how frequently he experienced this, no matter how ready his walls remained, he felt he would never quite get used to that initial stretch, that burning which left his insides singing. It was always so much, so overwhelming in the most wonderful way, and he revelled in every inch as he lowered himself more, feeling the deeper parts of his walls also having to mould themselves around that shape, feeling his body relenting to the machine’s presence within. A whine continued to slip from his throat as he moved further down, as more and more of his body was filled, as the machine’s length disappeared deeper inside him. It was a noise that grew in volume as he felt himself stretched open, a moan that lost its noise at the end, finishing in a shuddering breath. His motions stopped as he stayed perched upon the machine’s lap, its shaft so snug within him, the sheer width putting pressure against the sensitive areas inside. Gabriel gave himself a moment to adjust, a chance to catch his breath, to simply enjoy the simplicity of fullness. He basked in the absent scratching in his hips while his heart raced against his ribs, felt dazed with this carnage that was still gentle, a prelude to a more vivid bleeding.
V1 waited with him, even with the obvious tightness to its frame, its unashamed hurriedness that it had made no attempt to hide. It waited, for it had little choice but to, given the self-inflicted lethargy it was currently stuck in. Lucky for it, Gabriel was equally needy, and it wasn’t long before he was lifting his hips again, only to let himself drop back down upon that length, moaning with the sting of pleasure that burned into his guts. He repeated the action, still struggling to lift himself with the weight of his own stomach, but wanting to feel the full force of that thick cock pressing into him. He began with a slow and drawn-out pace, would rise until only the head remained inside him, before letting the heft of his body drag him down quickly, gravity urging that length so deep within. He whined at every surge, far more shameless these days with the amount of noise he would release freely, knowing the machine would simply coax his whimpers out regardless were he to try and hold them back. It wouldn’t let him hide his own headiness, it wanted him to understand that he was equally complicit in this sin.
Or so, Gabriel presumed, given its ceaseless encouragement of his wantonness.
But there was a new sensation to take note of this time, and the angel whined as he realised how this motion was affecting the plump flesh of his chest. With every drop, he could feel his tits bouncing, could feel more milk spilling out of them as the movement urged the liquid out, dripping down his skin and splattering upon the metal frame beneath him. They were but weak sputters, little trickles that were thrown free from inertia, but he hadn’t expected to lactate still even without his chest being properly touched, and the humiliation of this had him clenching down tight upon the machine.
“F-Fuck,” he groaned out, feeling dizzy from the pressure he’d put upon his own insides, his body hot with his shaken pride, “Th-There’s so much,” he complained, only to lift himself again, only to drop and feel his tits bouncing once more. A motion that became very eagerly repeated.
After all, he’d long accepted now that shame turned him on, and he did not foresee that fact ever changing.
V1 clearly must have enjoyed the view, its optic seemed brighter again, a thing that could simply be excused by the intake of blood, but Gabriel was sure he saw something enthralled in that yellow glow. He felt his suspicion quite confirmed as those fingers upon him were suddenly gripping down harder, piercing more into his skin, filling the air with that metallic tang. He moaned at the hike of the stinging, a noise that was almost a delirious laugh, as he felt all the more motivated to bring the machine pleasure, spurred on by its gaze and touch. He continued with that pace for a while, leaning over more to let the machine have a good view of his tits, whining with a breathless satisfaction with every splatter of milk that he saw land upon its optic glass. It watched with great interest, making no secret about that, its view pointed directly at his chest, watching every jounce and jiggle as Gabriel bounced on its cock.
“Y-You sinful object,” the angel panted out, the taunt perhaps lessened by the obvious adoration in his tone, “S-So insatiable,” he added in a whine as he let himself drop again, pleasure tremoring up through his spine, wanting to laugh again as he knew that this insult applied equally to himself.
A fact made obvious as he realised that these drawn-out motions weren’t enough for him anymore, that he needed to feel more pressure within his guts. He tried to bounce himself faster, tried to feel more friction against his walls, tried to satisfy the machine and have it filling him. But it was hard to lift himself with his newfound weight, and his attempts for speed left him more squirming upon the machine’s lap than anything, barely lifting himself up, but clamping down and squeezing as he rocked his hips back and forwards.
The machine’s fans whirred loudly in appreciation, its gaze still so intently upon the movement of his breasts, but it seemed to take this desperation as permission, as its fingers dug deeper into his flesh. Gabriel moaned at the sensation, a sound that became twisted into a higher whine, as the machine started pulling on him, using that firm grip upon his hips to drag him down more, to have its cock battering up deeper inside him. It began to assist in the pace, and Gabriel was left sobbing out as it bucked up into him, as it squeezed his skin and drank down more of its essence, as it refuelled itself so that it could fuck up into him harder.
The pain had him shaking, had him feeling high, had him whining from how good it felt. The sharper motions had his breasts bouncing more, coaxing out heavier squirts that he could feel rolling down the bloated surface of his belly, more fluids that eventually found themselves trickling upon the machine underneath him. The angel decided then that he liked that feeling too, as milk continued to splatter out from his tits, forced out of him with every brutal thrust into his body. He liked it as the machine moved a spare hand up to grab at one of his breasts, throwing his head back in pleasure as he shivered from the harsh squeezing, sobbing out freely with a croaked and needy sound.
It cupped his tit so that its palm embraced the underside of it, groping the plump and warm flesh, the nipple poking out between two of its digits. Its fingertips indented themselves upon the soft skin, almost disappearing with the way the fat tissue rose around them, leaving the breast mishappen in their grasp. It squeezed at him as it kept pushing its cock up deep inside him, forcing out long squirts of milk, the fluid releasing so different from the sputtering splatters of the other tit as it continued to be bounced with every thrust. Gabriel could feel the contrast even without looking, as he stared up dizzily at the ceiling, focusing only on bliss and on the altered surging of milk from his body. He could do little more than to moan and wail and sob as the machine battered its cock into his guts, as it groped and milked him, as its fingers etched further into the flesh of his hips. He felt so overwhelmed in the most wonderful way, drowning in the hot euphoria, feeling his vision rolling back as his insides were assaulted again and again. He felt himself being pushed towards that edge with every thrust within him, with every squeeze of his tit, until finally, it all became too much.
He screamed as his climax crashed over him, as his body suddenly tightened up, as that perfect burning began to surge throughout his veins. The sound was stuttered and loud, persisting with every tremor within him, a hedonistic siren that would leave V1 further enthralled. His body shook with the intensity of it, clenching harshly upon the machine’s cock, a sob tearing from his throat as it continued to buck up into him, as It continued to tug him down, frantically trying to chase its own release as well. His overstimulated walls ached with every motion within them, pulsing and quivering upon that rigid length, trying to reject the foreign body, even as Gabriel himself welcomed the agony so willingly, relishing in every dizzying movement, feeling his untouched tit still bouncing from the force. It didn’t take much longer until the machine was meeting him at that edge, dragging him down in one last brutal motion, burying in deep as its seed began to spill up inside him, pouring into his depths. It was another source of heat within an already charred body, and the angel adored every spurt of that hot fluid that filled him, whining brokenly, deliriously, gleefully, as he felt his walls stinging to accept it all. It all bled into a moment of utter ecstasy, his whole body pulled taut, his insides spasming and boiling. No matter how many times the angel experienced this rapture, each visit to this paradise still felt fresh, still elated him with that same severity.
He felt he could never quite get enough, that he would be left seeking this pleasure forever, chasing high after high, demanding more from his machine. But he had long surrendered himself to this fate, and he revelled in it happily.
But then the initial moment passed, and Gabriel felt himself trembling in the aftermath, body buckling forwards, hands gripping desperately at the machine’s shoulders as he tried to keep himself upright, not wanting to collapse entirely. Four metallic hands gripped at him in assistance, mostly upon his upper arms to help brace the weight, the one that still groped at his tit seemed entirely self-indulgent. Gabriel didn’t complain, he was too preoccupied with his panting, warm air gushing out from the holes in his helm, trying near-uselessly to alleviate the utter heat that had enveloped him. He could still feel milk dripping down his skin, droplets that had been stagnant now being pulled down by gravity due to the change in angle. Some could have been sweat instead, his body was simply too numb to tell the difference, all he knew was that he was exhausted, and grossly sticky.
The machine continued to help hold the heft of his weight as Gabriel pulled himself off of its lap, and he groaned as inch after inch of its cock came loose, the head slipping free with a wet sound that the angel was now all too familiar with. Without the length to plug him, that warm seed was quick to start seeping free, dribbling from his quivering cunt, the lips fucked too loose to resist that horrid emptying.
Gabriel was still shaking as he finally managed to seat himself down beside the machine, perched awkwardly upon his knees, his head lowered with his tiredness. He was about to make the effort to lie himself down, was ready to bask in the afterglow and exertion, but then the machine was abruptly sitting up, and the angel could not deny the sudden thumping of exhilaration within his chest.
Of course V1 would not be satisfied with just one climax.
Gabriel made no effort to fight it as V1 moved behind him, grabbing at his hips, urging him into his hands and knees. He sobbed with his eagerness as he felt its cock pressing against his cunt again, pushing against his folds to keep any more fluids from leaking free.
“I- I see you’re feeling better,” the angel quipped with a haggard and breathy voice, as though he could pretend that his snark would mask his utter excitement.
As if in confirmation, V1 wasted no time as it began to surge forwards, and Gabriel was left whining deliriously as he felt his stimulated walls being filled again, as that empty feeling he had grown to hate was so profusely eradicated. In one sharp motion, his channel had once again been moulded to that shape, were once again stretched wide and burning, and the angel adored every second of it. He whines out a sound, perhaps it was supposed to be the word “yes”, it was hard to tell with how broken it was released, a shrill sound that was almost animalistic. V1 did not offer him that moment to adjust this time, it had been forced to demonstrate far too much patience already just from the nature of their positions. But now, it was the hunter again, the conductor that controlled the tempo, and it would not stop until it was thoroughly sated.
Gabriel welcomed it with every moan and gasp, encouraged it as his insides clenched down on instinct. Where his words might have been lacking some, his noises and reactions made his enthusiasm clear. He relished in the roughness of the machine’s bucking, sobbed as pleasure was instilled within him again and again and again. He could feel his limbs trying to give out beneath him, head struggling to stay up, his arms shaking from the fire that danced into his nerves, fingers gripping desperately at the sheets as though the hold there could somehow support him. His back felt tight, trying to arch with the sensations, but struggling against his own weight. His knees felt like they were carrying the brunt of the heft, alleviated only slightly by the metal hands that were still holding his hips up, by the fingers that were grasping down and pulling him back harder against that thick cock.
With every thrust inside him, his body was jolted towards, and his tits and belly both wobbled with the abrupt motions. He was squirting droplets of milk upon the fabric beneath him, whining loudly as his head finally dropped forwards, neck curling and leaving him staring at his own plump body, watching the way his soft curves were jiggling from the force. He received splatters of milk upon his own helmet from the sheer pressure of how high his breasts were bouncing up, white liquid upon the gold surface of his cross.
It was utterly obscene, picturing the evidence of their debauchery trickling down such a holy symbol. He might have been horrified by it, if not for how profusely thrilled he was, intoxicated by his own shame, revelling in that wanton fire of his own fluster. He stoked the growing blaze now, threw fuel upon it to see the flames rage. He would lay upon the wood that was burning, and he lavished in the way it consumed him.
It was one of the ways in which he and the machine just seemed to fit together perfectly, how he felt whole when they were joined, as though it had been a piece of him he had been awaiting his entire life. It was V1 who started these fires, who stirred his interest, who began to put the sticks together, and Gabriel only felt truly alive as he let the inferno completely envelope him.
Had he ever voiced that fact aloud? He couldn’t quite recall, too dizzy was he from the heat of bliss, too lost was he in each spike of pleasure as the machine continued to batter into him. The pace stayed unrelenting, and he groaned as he felt the machine leaning more over him, hands moving from where they were perched upon him, as its point of balance shifted. Really, it shouldn’t have been too surprising when those blue hands found their place upon his breasts again, squeezing tight as the machine bucked harshly into him, grinding its cock in deep. It pulled upon the nipples as it forced the milk out, squirting the substance upon its palm, likely drinking it in again despite how much its body had rejected it prior.
Gabriel might have scolded it again, if he could quite remember how to speak. But there were other words already teasing at his throat, and he felt too high to consider them properly.
For a while he simply drifted in euphoria, so utterly overwhelmed, while also feeling so distant from his own body, lost so entirely to pleasure that it was hard to feel the confines of his own skin. He focused on that presence against him, that soothing burning of hot metal against his back. The roaring of its engines finally surpassed that ill chittering it had been making prior, sounding much more like the melody he remembered, that whirring and rumbling that brought him an odd comfort. It was closer now, loud in his senses, even as his own excessive moaning attempted to drown it out.
Something about it all made him feel so dizzy, and his heart was spasming within his chest.
“M-Machine, I- I-” he whined out between his moaning, the words just slipping free. He cut himself off with a sob through, his mind spinning, his throat feeling tight as he tried to make sense of where that sentence was intended on going.
I need you? Maybe that desperation was embarrassing, but it was true all the same. The machine had bestowed pleasure upon him, had awakened something within him that could never slumber again, and now, he carried its spawn, and the desire to remain by its side had only grown. It was insatiable, but so was he, and he craved that euphoria that only V1 could give him.
But, somehow, he knew that word wasn’t quite it. No, something else had teased in his chest, something else had been trying to tear itself loose.
I love you.
He was mortified by his own realisation, even if something about it just seemed right. He wondered though if he were mistaken, if he was simply too high with bliss to think with a clear mind. He’d never experienced love like that, never in all his existence. He knew it in different forms, felt what he assumed was a familial love between the angels he had called brother once, felt the same towards the one he had called Father. He’d felt love towards mankind in the same way one might love a pet, finding them endearing in ways, frustrating in others, but never quite considering them on the same level. Perhaps even the sympathy he had felt towards the Ferrymen could be considered a type of love, something that was nurturing, something that wished they could one day be better. He of course felt love already to the small beings that were growing inside him, a love that was already smothering, as he worried on how he would embody the title of father himself, how he would be as a parent to them.
But this feeling he had towards the machine, this warmth in his heart that had it racing, this tightness that tugged at his lungs on those rare occasions he awoke alone, this was something so entirely new. It was a longing that made his mind feel weak, a gravity that pulled him towards the machine, as though his armour and its plating were a magnet. He felt happier within its arms, or pinned beneath it, he experienced a joy that made him nauseous whenever their bodies were connected. Its fingers upon his skin, beneath his flesh, it felt behind marks, left a residue of filth upon him that he wished would never go away.
How long had that feeling been love? How long had he been denying himself?
It was a terrifying thing to accept, and it only begged the question, was the machine itself capable of love? Did it comprehend emotions in the same way as him at all, did it feel this same drowning warmth? Gabriel felt it did, hoped it did, but he could not be certain just how much of that was real, and how much was simply his own projections, his own desperation to feel equally wanted.
Was the reciprocation a mere delusion?
But it was as though V1 knew what he was trying to say, as though the cut-off sentence had not been as vague as Gabriel had intended. For one hand dragged off his breast then, lifting slightly, the fingers trailing up and tracing over where the letters had been carved upon him, where his flesh had already been etched back together. It lazily drew over the new skin, bringing his attention back to it, making him think again of the word that had been sliced into him.
MINE.
“M-Machine,” Gabriel croaked out, uncertainty still evident in his tone, conflicting thoughts still flurrying rampant.
It didn’t stop there though, as if V1 wanted to make itself clear, and it gripped down hard upon his skin then, tearing into him, grasping tight at the plump flesh where that word had been. And it was as though Gabriel could feel every cut again, as though the wound was fresh, as though the machine were yelling, trying to scream the sentiment until he would finally understand.
MINE.
Gabriel sobbed out, his heart aching, far more than the actual pain upon his chest. The thumping beat within him felt as though it were drowning out his thoughts, a hurried drumming that pounded against his mind. It hurt, it hurt so much, this relief, this joy, it felt as though it were suffocating him.
“Y-Yours,” he conceded, forcing the word out through a tight throat, the sound haggard and overjoyed, “Yours,” he repeated in a desperate whine, “Oh God, V1, I’m yours.”
The machine seemed pleased with that, engine rumbling satisfied and loud, all hands grasping at him tighter as though his surrender to it had pleased it. Its pace quickened, hips bucking sharply as it kept burying its length in deep, clearly seeking out its release within him, as though the flooding of its seed inside that channel would further mark him as its property.
Overstimulated, and lost to a delirious glee, Gabriel knew that he belonged to it, and that it belonged to him. There could be no denying that now.
With that thought echoing within his mind, the angel felt his body was wound too tight, felt himself all too sensitive towards the battering in his guts. He sobbed at the utter force within his channel, whimpered from the overwhelming mixture of reassurance and pleasure, insides squeezing down as that wonderful burning began to surge throughout him.
The machine’s designation tore out from his chest again as he felt himself spilling over, as heat burst through his veins like lava, as his whole body trembled under the onslaught of bliss that was tremoring throughout him. It was a quake that was localised to his being, a shuddering that was heavy with pleasure, a dizzying wave that left his mind feeling empty. Absently, he was aware of an abrupt pressure within his guts, as the machine reached its climax too, as it pushed in deep and flooded its seed into his tight channel. Gabriel let out a broken sound at the sensation, his voice quivering in the same way his cunt was, a stuttered noise that barely slipped through the strain of his throat. There was no room within him, and yet, that fluid still poured into him, hot against his overstimulated walls.
Everything felt all too tense, so perfectly taut, only to suddenly bleed into a conflicted exhaustion, as that pressure passed, and the bones in his limbs suddenly had the strength of water. Suddenly, Gabriel felt himself starting to collapse, and even in his pleasure-drunk state he registered that the machine was tugging on him, ensuring that he fell onto his side. The sheet was a little moist beneath him, peppered with droplets that had soaked into the fabric, becoming dirtied further as his hip now rested on it, the open wound there seeping blood into its surface. Filthened more as Gabriel felt the machine’s seed starting to drip out of his cunt, the channel pumped too full to hold it all, the sticky substance trickling down his cheek and thigh, joining in with the other fluids that were already staining the bedding.
The milk was new, certainly, but their sheets never lasted long, ruined either by liquids or by tearing, or more often, both.
But that was a concern for later, for now, he would happily wallow in his own filth. Tiredly, and with the last vestige of his strength, he rolled himself upon his back again, not wanting to leave too much pressure upon his stomach by keeping his own weight upon it. He gasped out freely into the air, still reeling from the strain and euphoria, still basking in the utter bliss of pleasure. His heart was still racing, frenetic and eager, perhaps from the exertion, or perhaps still simply from his joy.
Some moments passed like that, bodies separated but sated, all until the machine seemed to long for his presence again. It shifted over, and gently it rested its helm down upon his stomach, hands caressing the angel’s skin as it braced itself upon him, in that same way that it had done so prior. And there was such a delicateness in the touch that Gabriel felt foolish for ever having questioned the machine’s understanding. As it was now, half lying beside him, half nuzzled upon him, it reminded him of an animal curled around its young, protecting them from the world around it.
Clearly it too was excited and anxious for the new lives they were creating together.
Gabriel looked at it fondly, and he stroked his knuckles over the rim of its helm, brushing his skin upon cold plating, feeling that heat that purred beneath.
‘We’ll meet them soon enough,” he assured it in a breathy murmur, a noise that reflected the exhaustion of his body.
V1’s helm tilted somewhat then to meet his gaze more directly, but it did not lift off his stomach at all, and Gabriel wondered if it was hoping to feel them kicking. Its stare was still intense, and it portrayed none of the feelings that it had beneath, but regardless, the angel felt as though he saw something in them, that same feeling that he recognised within himself.
Pride.
It had clearly been there the whole time, accompanying every gentle touch upon him. How could he have been so blind to it?
Clearly some part of him was still set in his ways, and his years of conditioning had not left him entirely. V1 had given him everything, had claimed him, had stayed beside him this whole time, and yet, still Gabriel doubted the emotions it had shown. Some part of him still viewed it as a mere machine.
He didn’t care for this side of himself.
But he would slowly train it out, he had to, for V1’s sake, and for the sake of their unborn children. He would be better for them, he would nurture them as best as an old warrior could. He would give them the warmth that they were owed.
Neither of them were designed to be parents, both were supposed to be weapons. But they would move beyond the purposes that had been decided for them, and they would figure this out.
Together.