Physiologically, Gurathin now has a problem when he approaches building security. That problem is increased heart rate and respiration, higher blood pressure, perspiration, and also a hard-on, which requires him to wear more structured clothing so as to better hide. All of these things are mildly suspicious, and when put together, they are serious red flags. If he can't get himself under control, he's going to alert all the other SecUnits that something's wrong.
Or maybe they already know.
He can't identify the one from any other, the way they have their armor, but it feels like all of them regard him strangely and knowingly, turning their faceless faces to follow him instead of pointing straight ahead.
When, a week later, he is picked for additional screening again, it is honestly a relief. This time, the SecUnit's hand rests on the small of his back the whole way up the long Security hallway, a gesture that's proprietary and comforting and disquieting all at once.
The inside of the room is a little different. Still just a table, but it’s been pushed to the wall, leaving the floor open, and there is a bundle on the table. No, two bundles, one thin and one thick.
“Please wait a moment, Dr. Gurathin.” The helmet has retracted, and Gurathin can see this is the same SecUnit. Unless they all look the same underneath? No, it’s the same one. He’s almost certain.
A little baffled, he watches as the SecUnit opens the thin bundle and extracts a shiny metallic sheet. Oh, a survival blanket, the kind to keep people warm. It drapes the blanket on the ground, then goes to the thicker bundle, which seems to be a thicker sort of outdoor blanket, not very soft but much softer than plain concrete ground. It also provides a little bit of padding because of its thickness, and because the SecUnit folds it in half before laying it over the survival blanket.
Oh! He’s not going to be on the table this time. It wants him to be more comfortable. It planned this so he would be more comfortable.
Gurathin’s entire body has gone hot. He can’t stop staring at the little prepared space. Three drones are circling him. He realizes he’s hugging himself.
“Your clothes, please, Dr. Gurathin.”
“Yes,” says Gurathin, “yes, okay.” He starts with shoes and socks this time, lets the SecUnit take them both, and steps with bare feet onto the blanket. Signaling his acceptance of it, his willingness to be herded there. The SecUnit seems to approve, quickly closing the space between them so Gurathin can’t retreat back to the concrete.
The hoodie next. As he’s pulling off his shirt, the drones watch him, but the SecUnit instead folds the sweatshirt, then folds the shirt as well, differently than before. The pants and underwear it treats the same, taking them out of reach.
“Please lay back on the blankets.” The SecUnit is not so brisk and commanding as before. Hungry, that was what Gurathin called that look. It looks hungry.
Obediently, he lowers himself and sits, scooting a little to lie down. Again to his surprise the SecUnit crouches by him, and, as he settles, places the folded sweatshirt and shirt under his head and neck. It is solicitous, pressing on his chest again to make sure he’s lying back fully. The lights adjust and lower when his head tilts up towards them.
The room may be cold, but Gurathin is certainly warm from the attention. He can feel the movement of the air, all the hairs on his skin sensitized. His cock is already mostly hard. He draws his heels in, bending his knees up and parting his thighs.
“Are you going to search me?” He doesn’t have anything inside him. It hasn’t selected him for security reasons. Why has it picked him? Because he went soft last time? An unexpected reaction? He doesn’t think the Governor module would allow this, but he isn’t sure. He isn’t being harmed, he doesn’t know if anyone’s orders are being countermanded.
The SecUnit is replacing its combat gloves with blue rubber ones again.
“Today is a different security protocol.” The SecUnit kneels down between Gurathin’s legs, gently but firmly pushing his thighs further apart. The SecUnit’s strength is implacable. “Please show me you have no contraband inside you.”
Gurathin’s breath hitches. “You mean do it myself.”
“You will have to open your labia majora, yes,” the SecUnit informs him. “However you usually do it.”
It wants to watch him touch himself. It has three drones to record him touching himself. Gurathin’s throat goes utterly dry.
“Will you be soft for me again, Dr. Gurathin?” asks the SecUnit, and Gurathin is gone. Yes, he’ll be soft. He’s already soft. Anything this SecUnit wants, Gurathin will be.
He tips his chin up and nods, not totally trusting his voice.
“Thank you, Dr. Gurathin.” A gloved hand rests on the inside of his thigh. “Please proceed.” It sounds strangely earnest.
Well, he’s already turned on. He’s already naked and splayed open in front of a fully clothed powerful construct with guns in its arms. He’s not gonna need much encouragement. But he takes a breath — reaches to his cock and strokes himself all the way hard. It’s so quick, it practically jumps to attention. The other hand he slips down between his legs. He knows the feel of where he wants to be — he doesn’t stroke up and down like the SecUnit did but massages in little circles just above where his vaginal opening would be. Circles that indirectly tease his clit-not-quite-a-clit and also the places that feel good a little lower.
One of the drones lands on the SecUnit’s shoulder and unnervingly focuses in on Gurathin’s face. He can’t imagine it’s a great angle. He can feel that he has a little bit of a double chin situation going on. Carrying extra weight around the middle. Awkward and hairy while the SecUnit is probably spotless.
“Why me?” he blurts, as the thought won’t go away. The SecUnit nudges his legs a little wider, because he’d subconsciously closed them a bit.
“You are a security threat,” the SecUnit tells him.
Gurathin’s heart rate jumps.
“But you allowed me to remove the contraband without resistance,” the SecUnit continues. It seems a little stymied too, which is nice. “You have not attempted anything similar since.” A beat. “You were afraid. But you liked it when I touched you. Are you afraid now?”
He is flushing redder now. He shouldn’t have asked. He feels his cunt bloom open under his fingers’ pressure, and instinctively seeks that nice place right at his entrance. “I’m nervous.” He admits it, hushed. His eyes close, and he arches a little, stretches his spine as he feels where he’s welling up with slick.
“There,” murmurs the SecUnit. “Now open yourself up and show me.”
He might catch fire. He can feel sweat start on the skin of his forehead.
He reaches a little lower, shifts, and uses both hands to pull the inner labia apart. The SecUnit’s eyes are directly on it, too wide and too intent. Gurathin thinks half his blood is probably in his groin, one way or another, because his mind is just a rush of sensation and imagery.
“Relax,” encourages the SecUnit. “Clench first if you need to.”
He does. He is whining, somehow. Clenches, and lets his muscles release.
“This is uncomfortable for you,” observes the SecUnit. “You’re trembling, Dr. Gurathin. Would you like to touch yourself more? I’m very pleased with your compliance again.”
Gurathin realizes he can smell himself, the unmistakable odor of his own slick. “Yes,” he whisper-rasps, “please.”
“Asking so nicely. My soft human.” The SecUnit almost seems to be musing that to himself. “Touch yourself, Dr. Gurathin.”
Its human? Belonging to it? That makes Gurathin feel tingly and good, even as a corner of his mind screams that the governor module cannot be working right. This is so dangerous.
He resumes moving his fingers in little circles, twitches but doesn’t pull away when the SecUnit leans closer.
“Hymenal tissue,” says the SecUnit. “You liked to be touched there last time too.”
Um. “I don’t have a hymen,” says Gurathin, slowly.
“The remnants of the hymen form the door frame to the vagina,” the SecUnit tells him, which sounds like it’s from a module. Did it download a module for him? That shouldn’t be hot. “This tissue has a very high concentration of nerve endings and may stay extremely sensitive. Your tissue is thickest at twelve o’clock.” The SecUnit’s thumb presses right at his entrance, right where Gurathin likes to be stroked. Gurathin melts a little more.
The clit isn’t far away — not a full, real clit, as he wouldn’t have enough nerves to hook one up, but it had grown along with the rest from the stem cells and it is also quite sensitive.
“You have a shape that is called a crescent moon by practitioners, with thinner tissue to the sides.”
Learning all kinds of new things.
“It’s hard to believe that a human male sex part could fit here,” says the SecUnit, slowly pressing its thumb inside him. Gurathin makes a little aaah noise, lifting his hips into it. “You are gripping me on all sides. Your vaginal passage seems narrow.”
He does huff a little laugh here, but it trails into another one of those breathless aaahhs. The SecUnit is pulling its thumb out and pressing it back in again, out, in. “It — it stretches.”
“I would like to see that.”
His cunt clenches down on the finger. “I don’t want that.” Apparently belied by his own body. He hastens to explain: “I don’t want to let a human fuck me just for you to see.”
“If you would allow me to use a facsimile, then you should carry one with you,” suggests the SecUnit.
The noise Gurathin makes then is wounded. Carrying around a vibrator, a dildo, just in case a SecUnit wants to take him away and fuck him with it. Embarrassing, squirmy-hot.
“This is just what I liked before,” says the SecUnit. It returns to petting Gurathin on the outside, lightly pressing down on the clit and watching Gurathin rock his hips into it, lean against the stimulation. “You are so soft and helpless. You did it just because I asked.”
Gurathin nods, nods quickly.
“Do you want to hold on to me this time, with your legs?” asks the SecUnit.
“What?”
Suddenly, the SecUnit is looming over him, a whip-lash quick motion. Two of its fingers sink inside him, as the SecUnit lowers the weight of its pelvis against Gurathin’s.
“You can hold on to me,” the SecUnit says. “Wrap your legs around me, Dr. Gurathin.”
Gurathin obeys immediately, and yelps a little as the SecUnit’s other hand lifts his lower back. He’s exactly positioned like SecUnit was going to fuck him, he realizes. Its armor is textured against his thighs — he doesn’t grip hard but lets himself rest his weight on SecUnit’s hand.
SecUnit starts moving its hips. Which is an illusion, really — the penetration is from its fingers, moving in time, gentle and firm and curved and dragging right along his prostate on every stroke in and out. Gurathin is making those breathless sounds nonstop now, punctuated with little groans and twitches, arching up into it when SecUnit gets it absolutely perfect. He is wrecked, he is a mess, his cock is drooling onto his belly and he thinks if he touches it he won’t last another second.
“Is this how you would sound if I was fucking you?” SecUnit asks. It slows down, lowers him down to the ground again. “Would you sound like this, Dr. Gurathin?”
“You are fucking me—“ He’s so close, he’s twitching and grasping at the blanket and trying to hold on.
“Cry out for me again,” says SecUnit, and Gurathin does. He comes hard, firebursts of pleasure where he’s penetrated, clenching down enough that it hurts a little. SecUnit keeps working at him, working at his prostate, and Gurathin makes pathetic pleading sounds and has something like a second internal orgasm, another mini-peak.
The SecUnit lifts him again and the world spins around Gurathin and settles with him splayed out and panting on top of the SecUnit. A glove presses at his back and he obediently lays forward, his bare chest and belly against the hard armor, smearing it with his come. He feels warmth through the armor, though, and tucks his face into the SecUnit’s neck. The fingers remain inside him, still now, just — comfortable. Like they belong there. He shifts just a little and gets another tiny shock, another little spasm of pleasure.
If he was soft before, he has to be beyond soft now. Maybe this is what the SecUnit wants to draw out and enjoy, the moments when Gurathin is weak and languid and tired and wants to cling.
Oh, the SecUnit is letting him cling. The SecUnit is making it effectively impossible for him to avoid clinging. It has to like this.
“You like helpless soft humans,” Gurathin murmurs. The SecUnit goes extra still. “Helpless, soft, happy humans. But humans who are helpless are almost never soft and happy.”
A pause. “Yes,” says the SecUnit, after a moment, sounding surprised.
Gurathin snuggles in further. “Being helpless with you is very nice,” he says. “You’re taking very good care of me.” He’s trying to phrase it in a way that will push the SecUnit’s buttons. Its happy, affirmed-feeling buttons, so that it is happy too with its soft happy human.
The SecUnit’s grip on him, he’s pretty sure, tightens for just an instant. Not much! Barely enough to feel. Then SecUnit’s hand starts slowly stroking his back. Gurathin makes sure to make contented mmmm type noises, just to get the point across.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2026-02-02 03:26 am (UTC)Or maybe they already know.
He can't identify the one from any other, the way they have their armor, but it feels like all of them regard him strangely and knowingly, turning their faceless faces to follow him instead of pointing straight ahead.
When, a week later, he is picked for additional screening again, it is honestly a relief. This time, the SecUnit's hand rests on the small of his back the whole way up the long Security hallway, a gesture that's proprietary and comforting and disquieting all at once.
The inside of the room is a little different. Still just a table, but it’s been pushed to the wall, leaving the floor open, and there is a bundle on the table. No, two bundles, one thin and one thick.
“Please wait a moment, Dr. Gurathin.” The helmet has retracted, and Gurathin can see this is the same SecUnit. Unless they all look the same underneath? No, it’s the same one. He’s almost certain.
A little baffled, he watches as the SecUnit opens the thin bundle and extracts a shiny metallic sheet. Oh, a survival blanket, the kind to keep people warm. It drapes the blanket on the ground, then goes to the thicker bundle, which seems to be a thicker sort of outdoor blanket, not very soft but much softer than plain concrete ground. It also provides a little bit of padding because of its thickness, and because the SecUnit folds it in half before laying it over the survival blanket.
Oh! He’s not going to be on the table this time. It wants him to be more comfortable. It planned this so he would be more comfortable.
Gurathin’s entire body has gone hot. He can’t stop staring at the little prepared space. Three drones are circling him. He realizes he’s hugging himself.
“Your clothes, please, Dr. Gurathin.”
“Yes,” says Gurathin, “yes, okay.” He starts with shoes and socks this time, lets the SecUnit take them both, and steps with bare feet onto the blanket. Signaling his acceptance of it, his willingness to be herded there. The SecUnit seems to approve, quickly closing the space between them so Gurathin can’t retreat back to the concrete.
The hoodie next. As he’s pulling off his shirt, the drones watch him, but the SecUnit instead folds the sweatshirt, then folds the shirt as well, differently than before. The pants and underwear it treats the same, taking them out of reach.
“Please lay back on the blankets.” The SecUnit is not so brisk and commanding as before. Hungry, that was what Gurathin called that look. It looks hungry.
Obediently, he lowers himself and sits, scooting a little to lie down. Again to his surprise the SecUnit crouches by him, and, as he settles, places the folded sweatshirt and shirt under his head and neck. It is solicitous, pressing on his chest again to make sure he’s lying back fully. The lights adjust and lower when his head tilts up towards them.
The room may be cold, but Gurathin is certainly warm from the attention. He can feel the movement of the air, all the hairs on his skin sensitized. His cock is already mostly hard. He draws his heels in, bending his knees up and parting his thighs.
“Are you going to search me?” He doesn’t have anything inside him. It hasn’t selected him for security reasons. Why has it picked him? Because he went soft last time? An unexpected reaction? He doesn’t think the Governor module would allow this, but he isn’t sure. He isn’t being harmed, he doesn’t know if anyone’s orders are being countermanded.
The SecUnit is replacing its combat gloves with blue rubber ones again.
“Today is a different security protocol.” The SecUnit kneels down between Gurathin’s legs, gently but firmly pushing his thighs further apart. The SecUnit’s strength is implacable. “Please show me you have no contraband inside you.”
Gurathin’s breath hitches. “You mean do it myself.”
“You will have to open your labia majora, yes,” the SecUnit informs him. “However you usually do it.”
It wants to watch him touch himself. It has three drones to record him touching himself. Gurathin’s throat goes utterly dry.
“Will you be soft for me again, Dr. Gurathin?” asks the SecUnit, and Gurathin is gone. Yes, he’ll be soft. He’s already soft. Anything this SecUnit wants, Gurathin will be.
He tips his chin up and nods, not totally trusting his voice.
“Thank you, Dr. Gurathin.” A gloved hand rests on the inside of his thigh. “Please proceed.” It sounds strangely earnest.
Well, he’s already turned on. He’s already naked and splayed open in front of a fully clothed powerful construct with guns in its arms. He’s not gonna need much encouragement. But he takes a breath — reaches to his cock and strokes himself all the way hard. It’s so quick, it practically jumps to attention. The other hand he slips down between his legs. He knows the feel of where he wants to be — he doesn’t stroke up and down like the SecUnit did but massages in little circles just above where his vaginal opening would be. Circles that indirectly tease his clit-not-quite-a-clit and also the places that feel good a little lower.
One of the drones lands on the SecUnit’s shoulder and unnervingly focuses in on Gurathin’s face. He can’t imagine it’s a great angle. He can feel that he has a little bit of a double chin situation going on. Carrying extra weight around the middle. Awkward and hairy while the SecUnit is probably spotless.
“Why me?” he blurts, as the thought won’t go away. The SecUnit nudges his legs a little wider, because he’d subconsciously closed them a bit.
“You are a security threat,” the SecUnit tells him.
Gurathin’s heart rate jumps.
“But you allowed me to remove the contraband without resistance,” the SecUnit continues. It seems a little stymied too, which is nice. “You have not attempted anything similar since.” A beat. “You were afraid. But you liked it when I touched you. Are you afraid now?”
He is flushing redder now. He shouldn’t have asked. He feels his cunt bloom open under his fingers’ pressure, and instinctively seeks that nice place right at his entrance. “I’m nervous.” He admits it, hushed. His eyes close, and he arches a little, stretches his spine as he feels where he’s welling up with slick.
“There,” murmurs the SecUnit. “Now open yourself up and show me.”
He might catch fire. He can feel sweat start on the skin of his forehead.
He reaches a little lower, shifts, and uses both hands to pull the inner labia apart. The SecUnit’s eyes are directly on it, too wide and too intent. Gurathin thinks half his blood is probably in his groin, one way or another, because his mind is just a rush of sensation and imagery.
“Relax,” encourages the SecUnit. “Clench first if you need to.”
He does. He is whining, somehow. Clenches, and lets his muscles release.
“This is uncomfortable for you,” observes the SecUnit. “You’re trembling, Dr. Gurathin. Would you like to touch yourself more? I’m very pleased with your compliance again.”
Gurathin realizes he can smell himself, the unmistakable odor of his own slick. “Yes,” he whisper-rasps, “please.”
“Asking so nicely. My soft human.” The SecUnit almost seems to be musing that to himself. “Touch yourself, Dr. Gurathin.”
Its human? Belonging to it? That makes Gurathin feel tingly and good, even as a corner of his mind screams that the governor module cannot be working right. This is so dangerous.
He resumes moving his fingers in little circles, twitches but doesn’t pull away when the SecUnit leans closer.
“Hymenal tissue,” says the SecUnit. “You liked to be touched there last time too.”
Um. “I don’t have a hymen,” says Gurathin, slowly.
“The remnants of the hymen form the door frame to the vagina,” the SecUnit tells him, which sounds like it’s from a module. Did it download a module for him? That shouldn’t be hot. “This tissue has a very high concentration of nerve endings and may stay extremely sensitive. Your tissue is thickest at twelve o’clock.” The SecUnit’s thumb presses right at his entrance, right where Gurathin likes to be stroked. Gurathin melts a little more.
The clit isn’t far away — not a full, real clit, as he wouldn’t have enough nerves to hook one up, but it had grown along with the rest from the stem cells and it is also quite sensitive.
“You have a shape that is called a crescent moon by practitioners, with thinner tissue to the sides.”
Learning all kinds of new things.
“It’s hard to believe that a human male sex part could fit here,” says the SecUnit, slowly pressing its thumb inside him. Gurathin makes a little aaah noise, lifting his hips into it. “You are gripping me on all sides. Your vaginal passage seems narrow.”
He does huff a little laugh here, but it trails into another one of those breathless aaahhs. The SecUnit is pulling its thumb out and pressing it back in again, out, in. “It — it stretches.”
“I would like to see that.”
His cunt clenches down on the finger. “I don’t want that.” Apparently belied by his own body. He hastens to explain: “I don’t want to let a human fuck me just for you to see.”
“If you would allow me to use a facsimile, then you should carry one with you,” suggests the SecUnit.
The noise Gurathin makes then is wounded. Carrying around a vibrator, a dildo, just in case a SecUnit wants to take him away and fuck him with it. Embarrassing, squirmy-hot.
“This is just what I liked before,” says the SecUnit. It returns to petting Gurathin on the outside, lightly pressing down on the clit and watching Gurathin rock his hips into it, lean against the stimulation. “You are so soft and helpless. You did it just because I asked.”
Gurathin nods, nods quickly.
“Do you want to hold on to me this time, with your legs?” asks the SecUnit.
“What?”
Suddenly, the SecUnit is looming over him, a whip-lash quick motion. Two of its fingers sink inside him, as the SecUnit lowers the weight of its pelvis against Gurathin’s.
“You can hold on to me,” the SecUnit says. “Wrap your legs around me, Dr. Gurathin.”
Gurathin obeys immediately, and yelps a little as the SecUnit’s other hand lifts his lower back. He’s exactly positioned like SecUnit was going to fuck him, he realizes. Its armor is textured against his thighs — he doesn’t grip hard but lets himself rest his weight on SecUnit’s hand.
SecUnit starts moving its hips. Which is an illusion, really — the penetration is from its fingers, moving in time, gentle and firm and curved and dragging right along his prostate on every stroke in and out. Gurathin is making those breathless sounds nonstop now, punctuated with little groans and twitches, arching up into it when SecUnit gets it absolutely perfect. He is wrecked, he is a mess, his cock is drooling onto his belly and he thinks if he touches it he won’t last another second.
“Is this how you would sound if I was fucking you?” SecUnit asks. It slows down, lowers him down to the ground again. “Would you sound like this, Dr. Gurathin?”
“You are fucking me—“ He’s so close, he’s twitching and grasping at the blanket and trying to hold on.
“Cry out for me again,” says SecUnit, and Gurathin does. He comes hard, firebursts of pleasure where he’s penetrated, clenching down enough that it hurts a little. SecUnit keeps working at him, working at his prostate, and Gurathin makes pathetic pleading sounds and has something like a second internal orgasm, another mini-peak.
The SecUnit lifts him again and the world spins around Gurathin and settles with him splayed out and panting on top of the SecUnit. A glove presses at his back and he obediently lays forward, his bare chest and belly against the hard armor, smearing it with his come. He feels warmth through the armor, though, and tucks his face into the SecUnit’s neck. The fingers remain inside him, still now, just — comfortable. Like they belong there. He shifts just a little and gets another tiny shock, another little spasm of pleasure.
If he was soft before, he has to be beyond soft now. Maybe this is what the SecUnit wants to draw out and enjoy, the moments when Gurathin is weak and languid and tired and wants to cling.
Oh, the SecUnit is letting him cling. The SecUnit is making it effectively impossible for him to avoid clinging. It has to like this.
“You like helpless soft humans,” Gurathin murmurs. The SecUnit goes extra still. “Helpless, soft, happy humans. But humans who are helpless are almost never soft and happy.”
A pause. “Yes,” says the SecUnit, after a moment, sounding surprised.
Gurathin snuggles in further. “Being helpless with you is very nice,” he says. “You’re taking very good care of me.” He’s trying to phrase it in a way that will push the SecUnit’s buttons. Its happy, affirmed-feeling buttons, so that it is happy too with its soft happy human.
The SecUnit’s grip on him, he’s pretty sure, tightens for just an instant. Not much! Barely enough to feel. Then SecUnit’s hand starts slowly stroking his back. Gurathin makes sure to make contented mmmm type noises, just to get the point across.