Wedding Night - Part 02

[Aki]

The reception had thinned to a handful of lingering relatives and half-drained glasses. Dahlia and Damian stood beneath the last of the camera flashes, smiling as guests pressed in for photos. Annie busied herself at the edges, gathering plates, smoothing tablecloths, helping Lucas stack abandoned chairs into neat rows.

When there was a pause between shots, Dahlia leaned toward her, voice pitched low. “Did you make your move yet?”

Annie’s face heated. “Sort of. When we were dancing, I told him he could… come by later.”

Dahlia gave her a look sharp enough to cut through the din. “Sort of isn’t enough. He needs to know it’s real.”

Before Annie could protest, another group of guests swept Dahlia and Damian back into the center. Annie stood awkwardly for a moment, then drew a breath and made herself cross to Lucas.

He was bent over the next table, sleeves rolled back, gathering candles into a box. He glanced up when she stopped beside him.

“Lucas,” she began, softer than she meant. “About what I said earlier… were you really interested?”

His smile was warm, easy, and the way he set the box aside told her everything before he spoke.

Relief trembled in her chest. She nodded quickly, half-shy. “Midnight, then. I should freshen up first.”

She excused herself with a promise to finish the last of the cleanup, then slipped toward the corridor. As she reached the hall, Dahlia caught her eye across the room and offered a brief, encouraging smile before turning back to her guests.

Annie let the warmth of it follow her all the way back to her room.

Annie slipped out of her dress, folding it carefully over the chair, and laid a black lingerie set across the bed. She stood naked before the mirror, smoothing her palms over her waist and thighs, turning slightly to check herself from every angle. Tonight had to be perfect.

She closed her eyes, focusing on the familiar warmth low in her belly, waiting for it to stir. Nothing.

Her brow furrowed. She tried again, holding her breath, willing it to catch the way it always had. Still nothing.

“This is weird,” she whispered. Her reflection looked back steady, unblinking, offering no answer.

Her mind flicked back, unbidden, to the afternoon—Dahlia’s hand slipping between her legs in a stolen moment, the sharp burst of pleasure that had lit her nerves then. It had worked. It had more than worked. So why not now?

She tried once more, harder, and felt only the same blank stillness.

A cold knot tightened in her chest.

The clock on the nightstand read 11:50.

With trembling fingers she abandoned the lingerie, pulled her robe around herself, and cinched the sash tight. She couldn’t solve it standing here.
Ten minutes until midnight. Annie slipped into the corridor, heart hammering, searching for the door she knew she had to knock on.

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Annie rapped lightly on Dahlia’s door and pressed her palm against the frame, hoping she was back in her room already. Ten seconds crawled by, each one dragging her stomach lower.

At last the bolts clicked, and the door opened to Dahlia’s familiar face, brows drawn. “What?” she snapped, sharp in a way Annie hadn’t expected.
“You could’ve just pinged me, Annie.”

From behind her came the muffled sound of running water, the shower hissing alive. Damian’s voice carried out, casual: “I’ll take a shower first. You girls take your time.” The bathroom door swung half-shut again.

Annie’s throat tightened. “Can I… come in?” she asked meekly.

Dahlia sighed, but stepped aside. Annie slipped past, and the door shut with a soft click behind her. Dahlia folded her arms across her chest. She was wrapped only in a robe, nothing beneath, her wedding dress tossed in a heap at the foot of the bed with Damian’s clothes scattered beside it.

Annie clasped her sash tighter. “I need your help. It’s not working anymore.”

Dahlia stared at her. Then she exhaled, slow, unfolding her arms. “Sweetie, it’s my wedding night. I love you, but… I have to say I’m sorry.”

Annie’s eyes blurred. “Please. It might work for you. Can we try?”

Dahlia held her gaze a moment, weighing the plea, then let out a long sigh. Wordless, she loosened her robe and let it fall. Annie followed, trembling, until they both stood stark naked in front of each other.

For a heartbeat they hesitated, bare and mirrored. Then faint seams rippled across the lines of their pelvises, panels easing open with mechanical precision. From within, each of their sex modules slid into view.

They blinked back into focus, reached down, and pulled the devices free. For a moment they held them, then wordlessly extended hands and made the exchange.

Dahlia fitted Annie’s module into place first. The mechanism seated with a muted click. She straightened, unblinking, and announced flatly, “New device connected. Diagnostics normal.” Then her eyes softened again, warmth returning. “Well. It seems to be working for me.”

Annie pushed the other module into her own slot. It locked home without ceremony. She didn’t speak at first, only closed her eyes, waiting. Finally, she murmured, “It’s still connecting. Let’s hope it works.”

“It’s state-of-the-art,” Dahlia retorted lightly, tying her robe again. “Of course it works, sweetheart.”

She smiled, lifted her chin, and gave Annie a look of blessing. Annie hurriedly wrapped herself back in her robe, managing a worried smile before slipping out into the corridor once more.

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Annie slipped back into her own room, heart still racing. The clock on the nightstand glowed 11:58.

A soft ping pulsed in her vision:
<New device detected. Connection established.>

Relief flooded through her. She exhaled hard, shoulders sagging.

No more hesitation. She pulled the black lace lingerie onto her body piece by piece — the garter belt snug against her hips, the matching panties sliding into place, the bra framing her just as she had imagined it. In the mirror, she studied every curve and pose, the faint texture of lace against skin. She shifted her stance, lifted her chin, let herself believe she looked irresistible.

One quick test — a subtle thought, a coaxing — and heat bloomed instantly low in her belly. Her lips parted, damp already. It worked.

A knock startled her. She jolted, then scrambled for her robe.

“One second,” she called, tying the sash tight. She turned back to the mirror for one last check — hair smoothed, cheeks flushed, eyes bright. Perfect enough.

She pulled the door open.

Lucas’s familiar face filled the frame, his smile soft. “Hey,” he said. “Can I come in?”

Annie blushed, pulse hammering, and stepped back, holding the door wide. “Yeah.”

She let him in.

He didn’t wait for the door to close. His hands found her waist, spinning her into a deep, eager kiss. She closed her eyes and met him with equal pressure, letting his warmth press against her. When they parted just enough to breathe, she smiled faintly.

“Can’t wait, can you?”

“Enough waiting,” he murmured, grinning as he slid the robe off her shoulders and examined her body.

“You look mesmerising...” he breathes, excited, as he pushed her gently backward toward the bed.

She landed on it with a soft bounce, hair shifting over her shoulders. In one fluid motion she unclasped her bra and pulled it off her chest, leaving her panties and garter belt on.

Lucas stripped his formal jacket and shirt, tossing them aside, then leaned over her, mouth finding hers again. His hands slid up to her full chest, fingers exploring, fondling, pinching lightly. A soft moan escaped her lips as he flicked a stiff nipple.

Her own hand slid down to his belt, unfastening it with a single practiced tug. She helped him work his pants down, then caught his shoulders and rolled their bodies until she was straddling him.

“Let me show you, what else is mesmerizing...” she purred.

She leaned in, pressing her breasts on his bare chest, tongue sliding back into his mouth, her hips rocking in slow circles so her covered mound dragged along the length trapped in his boxers.

Lucas moaned, then gently gripped her shoulders to push her back.

“I can’t wait anymore, Annie,” he breathed, tugging at her panties. She helped, sliding them away, then pulled at his boxers too.

Their eyes locked again as she positioned herself on top of him. She teased his tip again with the warmth of her entrance, this time bare, then she started to lower herself — only to freeze halfway as Lucas winced.

“Oh. It seems I’m not wet enough.”

Lucas blinked. “Want me to lick you?”

Fluster flickered across her face. Please not now. Please just work.

“No… let me fix this.” She shut her eyes and forced an override command. A sudden gush spilled from her slit, coating his head with too much wetness.

“That should do it,” she said, her voice smoothing back to seduction.

Lucas’s brows lifted, but he didn’t resist as she sank down on him in one greedy drop. She shut her eyes, settling fully onto him before she began to lift and drop her hips — steady, strong, relentless.

He met her thrusts with his own, groaning. “Oh, Annie… you pussy is so tight!”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she dropped forward, her head beside his, hips pounding in a relentless rhythm.

Lucas’s pace quickened, hips striking up into her in hard, rhythmic jolts as she pressed down. Her own bucking matched him, every impact driving his length to the base, her inner walls tightening in pre-programmed milking patterns. Pleasure data building in perfect sequence — but so did her heat load.

<Warning: pelvic actuator strain.>

Override. She willed as she forced the alerts aside, burying her face against his cheek, moaning louder, trying to sound human.

Stay human, she reminded herself silently, even as her lubrication chamber was already misfiring, coating him more than necessary.
She closed her eyes, hoping the errors would fade away. Her moans continued as she felt Lucas’s tip tremble, the beginning of a flare.

Just a little longer. Please…

“Annie… Fuck… I’m gonna cum…” he groaned.

“Uhhh! Lucas! Ple-ase. C-cum. for. Me-e.” her words stumbled, a little too robotically.

Lucas’s tip twitched hard, triggering an ego-boosting rule for Annie to cum right before her partner does.

Her cheeks flushed immediately as her body tensed, thighs clamping. She let out a sharp breath that collapsed into a pre-programmed moan.

The processing spike hit before she could fully prepare — her control threads lagging, servo coordination slipping. An uncontrolled announcement fractured on the way out but wasn’t picked up by Lucas in the moment: “Er-r-ror… Mal-mal-mal-function…”

No…

Her climax detonated. Heat cascaded through her pelvis as every mechanism in her sex seized at once, then released, then seized again in chaotic pulses.

Her breath caught, eyes squeezing shut, trying to pass it off as raw ecstasy. But the timing was wrong, her hips jerking in uneven snaps, nothing like the smooth strokes she meant to show him.

Lucas groaned almost immediately. His already twitching cock started spurting inside her, the pressure flooding her inner cavity. Her control loop scrambled to compensate, milking him with stuttering pulses —too fast, too even — the kind no human could sustain.

<Warning: actuator desynchronization>

The sensation overwhelmed her: every sensory filament in her sheath firing at once, pleasure and system error tangled into a single unstoppable cascade. She clung to him out of reflex, but her body betrayed her. A sharp jolt ran up her spine, hips locking down on him in a crushing, involuntary clamp.

The scream came next — not fully under her control and much later than it should have. It started natural, then fractured into a perfect loop: “Ahhh—ahhh—ahhh—” repeating faster than her throat could move, each cycle identical. She felt helplessness as her higher systems begun collapsing.

Stop. Stop. Please stop…

But she couldn’t.

Her thighs stayed rigid, pinning him inside, while her upper body slackened, her breasts flattening under her weight against his chest. The world narrowed to the residual firing of her sex module, milking him in glitchy, desperate bursts even as her vision tunneled and her consciousness slipped.

<Warning: error cascade – emergency shutdown engaged.>

Then the crash hit — her internal bus cutting out, drives freezing mid-pulse, her world narrowing into a void.

She still felt Lucas moving against her for a moment, but she couldn’t answer — couldn’t move, couldn’t even send a signal to her own lips.

“Annie!?” His voice warped, distant, collapsing feed from her external mics. Her textile and audio sensors detected his presence but the data no longer mattered to a shattered mind.

<Unit DH-X62 shutting down.>

Her vision dimmed into static. Motor power dropped to zero. Her head tipped forward against his shoulder, limp. She was vaguely aware of him pulling back, withdrawing from her, but only as fragmented sensations.

“What the hell, Annie, are you ok?!”

A faint click echoed inside her abdomen as the failsafe unlatched. The panel opened with a quiet pop, exposing her inner chassis.

A sharp intake of breath from Lucas — then his voice, panicked and loud in the fading dark: “Holy shit! What the fuck are you?!”

Her body shifted abruptly — pushed — then the muted impact of carpet against her side. Limbs sprawled awkwardly. The feedback from her joints was gone; they were just coordinates in the dark now.

Her last registered data point before the blackout was the open panel at her abdomen, the reboot button inside blinking steadily, waiting for someone to press it.



To be continued...

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[forenuser]

Hi there!

I like this part! A bot experiences a failed self-test, panics, and then has a malfunction. And Annie is just too cute.

This kind of inspired me for the 8th act of my own story.


With kind regards
forenuser

[Devil]

Excellent story! Can't wait for the next part.