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Cold clean cut metal pressed against rough and jagged plates of armor, worn and rough to the eye. The sharp edges curled in ways to protect one's bodily anatomy from harm, from spilling blood.
The metal was being warmed, but only from one body as she pressed herself against the cool steel of the mechanical demon. The gears shifted and turned in it's body, if they were human it would have longed for the touch, even more so than now.
The metal hips of their body locked tightly into place, tight claws grasping into the steel flesh as if they would run away. Claws digging into it's hips, threatening to break into it and feeling the articulated joints that worked overtime to keep their function. Not a single bit of rust on them, they were in good condition but worn, they would need to be replaced soon.
The warden rotted against it's body like a starved animal, begging for pleasure like it was food. The satisfaction of getting what she wanted tinged in the back of her mind, though she held back; restrain, patience, pleasure for the both of them is what they agreed to.
So used to getting what he wanted, the urge to mangle the machine and put against them until it felt humiliated. Below him, that is what she truly wanted. To be adored and put on a pedestal, even when intimate, maybe another time she would dwell on it.
Another time? The two denied it to each their own, not wanting to hurt their pride anymore. They were selfish in their own ways, for De-Thorn it was to feel human, the dull spark against it's metal flesh. An itch, it wanted to feel human once more, be intimate with someone in ways she was never able to be.
Banhammer told herself she wanted to release steam, get off a quick one just to stall off the inevitable surge of arousal he would get more often than not. She assumed if she did it with a robot, a mechanical being it would help stall it off more, in a twist of reasoning; maybe she just wanted to touch the cold body of the mechanical demon.
The warden sounded pathetic, sighing heavily to try and mask her soft whines. She was still dressed head to toe in armor, left to hump it's body through rough chainmail and stray cloth. The boxers he wore underneath all of it strained, becoming wet with his own pathetic pre, cursing herself for becoming so worked up.
Even if she wasn't to blame for her libido she still felt a tinge of guilt in the back of her head, how could she do that to another person? But they weren't a person, not anymore at least. They could bend and be broke in ways someone living would never be able to. It was handmade for her, in a way.
The sensation from the solid metal against her dick felt so heavenly, maybe he should have done this sooner. Rough metal preaching against it's backside, the stance was awkward as they waited for their pleasure; it felt Banhammer was being too selfish, far more selfish than them.
Mechanical hands lifted themselves from their sides, reading up and gripping the jailer's wrists tightly. As if a warning to stop, though unable to do much if she chose not to. Jerking to a reluctant stop, she huffed heavily, chest rapidly meeting her chestplate as if he was suffocating.
De-Thorn gently let up, though instead of letting go it dragged it's hands down to it's torso; making sure to keep a grip on the taller ones wrists, as if to give Banhammer an idea.
Their stomach was metal, much like the rest of it’s body. Small indents where it was put together carefully, screws and hard-to-press buttons littering their body, each one having a importance. The robot led the demon's hands down their torso, lower until it traced their lower abdomen.
Banhammer's claws felt at the metal, loving every indent and button, wishing he could play with them one day. Then her hands stopped, a weight around them slowly leaving them, which she wanted to plead with. ‘Keep them there’ is what she wanted to command, though the demand caught on her tongue, like a snare.
trailing around the space, adoring the way it was crafted and though she didn't understand machinery well, that didn't stop the beauty that came with mechanical items. The robot in her hands wasn't an item, though she felt it was. Maybe a little possessiveness slipped through in the heat of the moment, De-Thorn was a being made solely for the warden. Hand crafted for him to love.
Claws caught on indents, screws seeming to be missing. Trailing over screws were missing on the other side too, then it hit him. Confused when the topic of intimacy even managed to pop up between them, how would fucking around robot work? Would they even have pleasure from it?
‘To feel human’ is all that was said for it's reasoning, she had thought the idea of having sex is what it meant, though mistaken now. Confidence faltered for a second, pausing and for a second the robot thought about calling the entire thing off; not knowing if they has ruined everything by being selfish.
But the thoughts vanished, Banhammer leaning over causing the robot to slightly curl down. Staring down, through the red horns and messy false hair of the other demon — she could see what looked to be a button, a button that surely would open a compartment.
The robot inhaled sharply, no need for oxygen but to cool it's gears and circuits. With newly found confidence Banhammer felt around for the button, knowing exactly where it was located (most likely). Teasing, the touches felt like electric buzzes for the robot, light pulses like levers were being flicked inside of them.
The button was pressed, the steel plate falling and clattering to the ground; and for a second Banhammer found him worried about the damage, though she reasoned it would be a scratch at worst. Without the plate, Banhammer could vaguely see wires, some colorful, some black and gray, though they all did the same thing to him.
As if she was the one with wires in her brain, an instant command popped up from the new information, to touch and pull them, feel them around her hands. Feel the textures, the electric buzz, the raw insides of the robot.