Archive of Our Own

"I really want to see her and hug her."

This is exactly what Screwllum is thinking as his Mistletoe lands safely on the landing pad next to Herta's tower. The puppets open the doors, the ignition keys jingle as they fall onto the console table by the exit, and his coat and boots are removed and hung up by puppet hands in the closet.

He walks the path he knows as well as all his gears, takes hold of the door handle he needs, and carefully opens it, peeking inside.

Herta, sitting in bed without her hat with a notebook and clearly calculating something, immediately graces him with a glance, setting her peculiar storage of research aside slightly and smiling softly.

"Hello," Screwllum said, approaching the bed and loosening his tie with his hand.

"Hey," Herta greets back. "How was the trip..."

Before she can finish her sentence, she is interrupted because Screwllum climbs onto the bed rather quickly and, crawling over the mattress on all fours to reach Herta, lies down on his stomach, wrapping his strong arms around her thin waist in her corset and resting his head on her thighs.

Stunned and pinned down by his machine weight, she stares at him with her mouth open for a while, but breaks into a light laugh.

"Well, that says it all. Rough day, Screwy?" Herta says, hooking the brim of his hat with her fingers and deftly removing it, leaving it lying beside her on the bed. Her headpiece is replaced by her hand, now methodically stroking his head. The smooth metal, warmed by constantly running processors, is gently stroked in a soothing gesture. "It happens."

His vocal components synthesize a sound of confirmation, along with Screwllum lovingly rubbing his metal cheek against her thighs.

The thin material of her stockings transmits the warmth and softness of her organic body. Herta is so comfortable and pleasant that he wants to stay in this position forever and never get up.

"So are you going to tell me or not?" she asks again, tracing a small circle-shaped detail on the back of his head with her finger.

Screwllum sighs heavily.

"Nothing serious," he begins. "Long, monotonous meetings about energy policy, very difficult-to-communicate-with Intellitrons, and I spilled machine oil on my pants. Had to change."

His arms squeeze Herta a little tighter, and the fabric of his white shirt rustles from the action. In his clothes on the bed? Another time, Herta would have shooed him away and scolded him, but now she chooses to be softer.

Her notebook is set aside, and now both her arms hug him back. It's awkward because of the position, but Screwllum doesn't seem to complain.

"Did the pants at least wash out?" Herta asks with a hint of a smile in her voice.

"Yes."

"Good. Otherwise, I'd have to dip into the state budget and buy you new pants."

Herta pauses for a couple of seconds, leaning closer to Screwllum lying on her thighs, and says next to his auditory sensor:

"Although I like you better without pants," she whispers playfully.

They both chuckle at that. Herta gives Screwllum a kiss on his metal head, then leans back and rests her back against the headboard, returning to her original position. Her hand starts stroking his head again, hearing him hum contentedly.

This can be compared to purring. Herta doesn't know how accurate it is to compare it to a humming machine, but it's the first thing that came to her mind.

"You're such a cat," she comments, looking down at him.

Screwllum lifts his head with interest and rests his chin on the junction of her thighs, looking into her warm eyes, full of an uncharacteristic tenderness for Herta.

She rarely looks at anyone like that — or rather, at no one at all except Screwllum. To the entire cosmos, Madam Herta is a terribly closed-off and stern individual, letting no one close, having no weaknesses or feelings.

For him, it is not so. The aloof and cold Moon has made an exception for Screwllum and shown her other side, which no one had ever seen before.

This is the greatest honor he has ever been given.

"Interesting comparison. Why?" Screwllum asks with genuine curiosity, his optical sensors flickering.

Herta sighs, sliding her fingers to his face. She traces his monocle with her index finger and flicks the tassel on it, starting to play with it.

"I don't know. You make that funny humming sound," she explains casually. "It's cute."

He smiles softly at her with his modified lips, and his hands gently rub her body through her corset, still hugging her waist.

His lips press against one of her thighs, kissing her gently through her stockings. A warm feeling immediately washes over Herta's entire body, spreading further from that touch.

"I missed you," Screwllum admits a little more quietly than usual, with warmth in his voice, not looking away. "I wanted to see you all day."

Her happiness, expressed in a sound, stretches like golden strings to his sensors, creating his favorite sound — her laugh. It is selfless and quiet, devoid of any malice.

Another kiss, and her eyes narrow playfully.

"So that's why you're drooling all over my thighs?" Herta asks with a smirk.

Now Screwllum laughs, sliding his hands from her waist to her legs, gripping the outer sides of her thighs.

"I can't help myself," he replies, beginning to cover them more actively with kisses. "You have exquisite thighs. I really like your shape, it's indescribably attractive."

An amazing feeling stirs in her chest. Screwllum often kisses this part of her body to arouse her, but now it doesn't feel like something teasing.

The velvet kisses combined with his tactility warm her heart so much that a little more and it will melt in her chest.

Not knowing what to say, she silently accepts his caress, still not leaving his tassel alone. Soft and small, it moves between her fingers as Herta contemplates her words:

"Do you really miss me?" she finally asks, leaving his accessory alone.

Hearing her question, he gives one last kiss to her thigh, then rises from her thighs to her face level, bracing his hands on either side of her body.

Her purple eyes shine brighter than usual, and her cheeks flush.

She likes his attention. How cute.

"Yes, I missed you," Screwllum replies, sounding more intimate than usual. "I always miss you when you're not around."

"Oh, that's so sentimental."

"Are you surprised?"

"Nope. You've always been like that..."

"Like what?"

Herta hesitates, trying to find the right words.

"Affectionate," she manages. "Yes, I think that's the right word."

"Good."

They look at each other in silence, until Herta, letting out a heavy sigh, wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

"I missed you too, Screwy," she admits almost in a whisper, kissing the upper part of his faceplate, where a human temple would be. "And I miss you when you're not around. I won't promise it's always — we're still different in that regard, and..."

"I understand," Screwllum interrupts her softly, dying of happiness inside from this attention that Herta has decided to bestow upon him.

His shirt rustles against her corset as his arms tenderly embrace her in return, resting on her shoulder blades. The warm, soft skin beneath his metal feels as wonderful as always, and as soon as Screwllum moves his fingers along her bare back, Herta begins to tremble in his arms, covered in goosebumps and sharply inhaling.

Organics are so sensitive.

Screwllum kisses her shoulder and rests his chin on it, turning his head slightly, catching a glimpse of her cascade of hair flowing down her back.

It's amazing how simple hugs with her can reduce all his anxiety and stress in a matter of seconds. Just half an hour ago, he wanted to smash his head against the nearest hard object just to make the aftertaste of this vile day stop attacking his mind, and now Screwllum feels so calm that nothing disturbs his eternally working genius brain, which never stops analyzing.

In her arms, everything gradually quiets down and fades into the background. The problems and failures are still there, waiting behind the scenes for the stage to empty and the actors to return to their ordinary lives. But does an actor care about outsiders while he is in the thick of the action? No.

His focus shifts to Herta, her scent, her attention, and her fragility.

It's good that he met her once.

"I am very happy to have company in the form of you," Screwllum almost whispers this confession to her. "Every time we are together, I am grateful that the probabilities played out this way and I met you."

He hugs her tighter.

"To be honest, I feel very sad alone without you," Screwllum shares. "I don't like emptiness. I don't like a world without you, Herta, because then there is no happiness in it."

There is a short pause, after which Screwllum finishes his thought:

"With you, I forget that loneliness exists."

Herta closes her eyes, breathing in his scent deeply. The expensive men's perfume hits her nose with a woody fragrance mixed with metallic notes.

Her heart clenches with bitterness for him and from his sweet confession. Herta doesn't know how to properly say that she is sorry he feels alone so often, and that she is very proud that she has become his comfort in this emptiness.

One of her hands slides down the back of his neck, brushing the spinal detail with her fingertips. Screwllum doesn't flinch, but imitates a sigh from this caress of his sensitive part. Her palm cups his warm, heavy head, and Herta changes position, leaning her head back and immediately pressing her forehead to his metal one.

She sees her distorted reflection in his monocle, through which a bright green light shines through the glass. The brightness of his sensors has lowered, but not out of hurt or pain, but for the comfort of her organic eyes.

Screwllum always thinks about that when she presses closer to him than usual, holding eye contact.

"You remember that I'm always with you, right?" Herta exhales, and the warm air touches the lower part of his faceplate.

Her back feels his hand crawl higher and find her hair, starting to play with it. His fingers run through her long strands, letting them slip through like sand.

"Yes," Screwllum confirms. "Always."

With these words, he leans forward and kisses her.

Screwllum slides his modified lips over her organic ones, saying everything with one gesture instead of using words. The kiss is gentle and light, like the wings of a butterfly that Screwllum picks up on his fingers and observes in its nature.

Herta returns the kiss, deepening it and exhaling loudly through her nose. She presses on his head with her hand, pushing him into her as her desire grows more and more, and her insistence takes over. She breathes in through her mouth, immediately returning her lips to his, letting out a moan of pleasure.

Changing direction and brushing his lips across her cheek, Screwllum moves down to her neck, covering her sensitive skin with hot kisses. Herta arches it, giving him better access.

"You are so..." he comments into her skin, biting lightly. "Charming."

Her breath catches, goosebumps run down her body, and Screwllum feels hotter and more necessary to her. Everything is so dizzying that Herta almost loses all her thoughts.

A realization shoots into her mind, reminding her of something. Resisting the desire to continue, Herta pulls back, gently pushing him away by his shoulders with both hands.

"Wait..." Herta stops him, breathing heavier than usual.

"What is it?" Screwllum immediately stops, looking into her eyes.

Herta swallows, taking a deep breath in and out.

"How tired are you?" she asks.

Screwllum is clearly taken aback, but still gives his answer:

"If you mean work — very. If you mean you — not at all," his head tilts. "Why do you ask?"

"Remember that game we played about a month ago?"

"In what sense..."

"In the sexual sense, Screwy."

Ah, so he knows.

That was when they first tried sexual roleplay, where Herta dressed up as a maid. True, their location was his mansion, where the brilliant madam acted out a scene of seducing the master of the house through cleaning. Screwllum will remember that day for a long time, especially her risqué outfit and how indecently she moaned beneath him, furiously scratching the coating off his back with her nails.

A cinematic picture.

"Yes, I remember."

She nods approvingly.

"Well, I want to repeat it today."

"Unexpected."

"I know," Herta agrees. "But listen: I don't want to play a maid."

She leans closer, smiling playfully and running her index finger down his tie.

"I want to be your patient," Herta announces. "And you — my doctor. A very attentive doctor..."

His optical sensors glow brighter from surprise.

"You're suggesting medical roleplay?"

"Yep. Fun, right?"

"Hmm..." Screwllum pulls back from her to a more decent distance, ceasing to hug and hold onto her like some kind of crustacean. "I'm intrigued."

"So you're in?"

"Yes."

Herta claps her hands joyfully, smiling happily that he agreed to her latest idea.

"I knew you'd agree!" she finds one of her many puppets with her eyes, pointing her hand at it. "#67, bring me the lab coats from the laboratory, but just white and simple ones."

The puppet obediently leaves for the props, and Herta, her eyes shining with delight, refocuses her attention on Screwllum.

"Do you want to discuss anything?" she asks him, bracing herself on the mattress with both hands in front of her. "I'm listening, Screwy."

Screwllum sits on the edge of the bed, placing his feet on the floor.

"Of course I do," he says, looking at her. "First, how do you want this to be?"

"You mean..."

"Do I be gentle or rough?"

Herta opens her mouth, letting out a long "aaaaa..."

"I'd say more the latter than the former. I want intensive treatment."

They both chuckle at that, and Screwllum nods his head in agreement.

"Understood. Safeword?"

"The same as last time. Red. Although I doubt I'll need it."

Herta winks at him, and Screwllum smiles warmly at her teasing. He ponders what else to discuss when he remembers one important thing he did to himself a few days ago.

"What about a surprise?" Screwllum asks cautiously.

Her eyebrow arches.

"What do you mean?"

"Let's just say, I have one change that I forgot to tell you about, but it won't affect... the quality of the process?" he replies. "But I can tell you now if you don't want surprises."

She thinks for a while, tapping her finger on her chin.

"Is it risky for me?"

"Of course not," Screwllum shakes his head. "I would never put you at risk, Herta."

A tender smile blooms on her lips.

"Then don't tell me. I trust you."

Screwllum finds her hand and brings it to his face, softly kissing her knuckles.

"Thank you," he says. "I appreciate it."

The puppet conveniently runs into the room with two lab coats in its hands. Screwllum stands up to take his, while Herta beckons the puppet to her, just so she doesn't have to move. Far too much effort.

"I'm giving you free rein in what you want to do with me in this roleplay, but just don't break character," Herta proclaims, watching Screwllum straighten the white coat. "I'm in the mood for good sex, not a cheap comedy where even the actors laugh out loud, so don't let me down."

"Of course, my love, whatever you wish," Screwllum replies with tenderness in his voice.

Herta nods approvingly and gets up from the bed.

"Good. Now get out of the room, I need to change."

At this command, Screwllum freezes in shock, fundamentally not understanding the necessity of this action.

"Why?" he asks suspiciously.

Herta clicks her tongue and, tossing the lab coat onto the bed, approaches him, walks around him, and presses her hands against his back, guiding him toward the door. Screwllum doesn't resist.

"I said: I need to change."

"Herta, if I trust my calculations, I've seen you naked more than a thousand times..."

"And?"

"And I've seen literally everything?"

"You know, Screwy, there's a saying: 'All good things in moderation.' Listen to it."

She finally pushes him to the door. Screwllum turns around and freezes in the doorway, still fighting for his right to see her naked.

Taking pity on him, Herta puts her hand on the door, smiling playfully.

"I know you've seen everything," she says seductively. "But you're not the only one who gets to plan surprises, sweetheart."

She gives him a quick kiss and, her eyes flashing, closes the door in front of him.

Like a stupid ram, Screwllum stares at the door, not understanding what to do next, but deciding that if Herta wanted it this way, she must have a reason for it.

You never know what's going on in that woman's head.

Having accepted his fate of being kicked out of the bedroom, Screwllum heads to one of the laboratories where there is a couch for maintenance moments, tables for placing necessary tools for conducting experiments.

While Herta transforms, he moves one of the tables slightly, first clearing it of everything unnecessary. He kicks out all the puppets, drags a chair to the table, moves the couch closer, and also adjusts the lighting to be less cold and bright, creating a more intimate atmosphere.

Screwllum approaches a small mirror by a tiny sink with a hand-washing device. He deftly removes his gloves, setting them aside, and begins to clean his hands. If he wants to touch Herta, he will do so with proper hygiene, not by examining her with unprocessed metal fingers.

After all, doctors value cleanliness, don't they?

Quickly finishing with that, he puts his gloves back on and begins to pull on his lab coat, adjusting it on himself as he looks in the mirror. He ensures his tie is symmetrical, brushes dust from his shoulders, and involuntarily notes that he looks quite good.

His bare metal head gleams under the light. His hat remained in the bedroom, so Screwllum will be showing off his bald head for the entire session.

He pulls out his phone and texts Herta, letting her know where he is and that everything is ready. After pressing send, Screwllum puts his phone away on the nearest table. He approaches the table and sits down behind it, waiting for his unusual patient.

He has so many ideas in his head for how to make her feel good, and Screwllum plans to implement everything possible.

Herta wants great sex?

Screwllum will give her great sex.

And he will be the most unforgettable doctor in her life.

══════════ ✦ ══════════

A cautious knock on the door sounds in the room.

"Come in," Screwllum relays the information in an even, dry tone.

The door opens, and Herta pokes her head in, surveying the room. Suppressing her desire to smile, she enters the room.

As soon as she appears fully, Screwllum's optical sensors immediately latch onto her, beginning to examine her appearance.

Nothing unusual: a white buttoned lab coat rustles as she approaches.The part of her legs not covered by the long hem of the coat reveals only stockings that are darker than her usual ones. Everything else is hidden.

This mystery clearly increases his desire to rip that coat off her as quickly as possible.

"Please, have a seat," Screwllum gestures with his hand toward the couch, offering.

Herta nods, obeying, and sits on its edge, bringing her legs together and placing her hands on her knees, like a proper modest girl.

"Question: what is the purpose of your visit to me, Madam Herta?" Screwllum asks in a professional tone, looking at her. "What are your complaints?"

She squeezes the hem of her coat with her fingers, feigning shyness.

"You see, Doctor..." she begins, sounding not entirely confident. "I'm plagued by stiffness and tension throughout my body. As if there's a weight that can't be lifted. It's weighing me down."

Screwllum nods.

"How long ago did this start?"

"A couple of months ago," Herta replies. "There's been too much work, and apparently my nervous system has malfunctioned throughout my body. I'm starting to fear that I have serious health problems."

She looks up at him, putting on the most pitiful expression she can:

"Can you help me?"

He rises from the table, approaching the couch until he stops in front of her, looking down at her.

"Of course, that's why I'm here," Screwllum says in a slightly lower voice. "To help and relieve tension."

He reaches his hand forward and hooks her chin with his finger, making her look at him.

"You're in safe hands, Madam Herta," Screwllum says clearly. "I guarantee you that."

Herta only smiles modestly, examining his face.

His fingers gently touch her face, stroking her jawline in a weightless touch.

"I will be testing your reactions," he declares, practically caressing her face. "How your body responds to different external influences. I need to gather the maximum amount of data for a precise diagnosis. For this, I ask you to be honest with me, answer my questions, and do what I tell you."

He leans in a little closer.

"Is that clear?"

Herta swallows hard and nods, unable to make her vocal cords work.

"Excellent," Screwllum approves. "Now let's begin the examination."

His fingers slide along her jaw behind her ears, touching the area behind them. His thumbs rub her skin, trying to elicit a reaction.

And there is a reaction, because Herta flinches slightly at the touch.

"What do you feel?" Screwllum asks. "Describe it to me."

"I don't know how to describe it precisely, but it doesn't hurt, and it feels quite good," she forces out, feeling his thumb run along her auricle, rubbing it. "I'd say pleasant."

"No discomfort?"

"Yes."

Screwllum hums and, leaving her ears alone, slides his hands lower to her neck.

His fingertips trace along her side in an airy motion, and Herta flinches.

"Ticklish..." she explains, and Screwllum nods.

But he doesn't stop. His hands stroke her neck, reach behind it and press slightly on the back with massaging motions.

"You need a more thorough examination," having played with her exposed parts, Screwllum concludes. "Stand up and come to the table."

Herta obeys and, with feigned uncertainty, approaches the table. Screwllum moves so close to her that she ends up with her backside against the table, gripping it with her hands.

"Relax," he asks, reaching out his hands and beginning to slowly unbutton her coat at her chest. "I'll cure you."

It seems to have gotten a little warmer here than it should be in a medical office.

Stopping at the button just above her stomach, not wanting to reveal the full picture yet, Screwllum opens her coat.

Alright, now he understands why she kicked him out, because under the coat, at least on top, she has nothing on.

Her bare, small breasts rise slightly more often than usual. Screwllum openly stares at her for a while, but remembering what he's doing here, he slides his hand down, slipping it under the half-unbuttoned coat.

His fingertips lightly and teasingly trace her sunken stomach, again causing Herta to tremble. And he hasn't even touched her properly yet, and she's already responding so readily to simple touches.

"Remarkable sensitivity, Madam," he comments, continuing to move his fingers, listening to her ragged breathing and looking into her bright eyes. "No pain?"

Herta shakes her head negatively, and Screwllum only hums.

Taking pity on her, Screwllum slowly trails his fingers upward, passing through her cleavage and finally stroking from the base of her breast to her nipples.

His gloves, colder than his metal heated for her, feel particularly sharp on this sensitive area. Herta is always very responsive when Screwllum touches her here, and this is clearly no exception, because the way her breath catches speaks for itself.

Screwllum cups her breasts with both hands and begins to rub her nipples with his thumbs, feeling them harden more and more under his touch.

"Are you cold?" Screwllum asks casually. "Your body's reactions indicate a lower ambient temperature."

"A little..." Herta exhales.

Screwllum nods and simultaneously gently squeezes her soft breast. The tender skin yields under his fingers, and Herta lets out some indistinct quiet sound mixed with a moan and a sigh.

"Then let's check how your body responds to additional heat and other methods of stimulation."

And he adds in a whisper, allowing himself a small audacity by stepping slightly out of character:

"Give me a taste."

Screwllum closes the distance between his face and her neck, covering her side with his mouth and running his tongue over it, licking the taste of her skin, and Herta feels like she's about to fall, melt into a puddle on the floor, or explode.

The heated cavity of his modified mouth and synthesized saliva, identical to human saliva, allow him to give wet and long kisses, alternating with licking.

Now Herta is genuinely trembling from this temperature difference on her chest and neck.

He covers her neck with lingering, hot kisses, stretching each touch of his lips to her skin, not stopping his hands.

"Observation: you have a tremor throughout your body," Screwllum notes, drawing a wet stripe along the entire side of her neck. "Does it hurt?"

"No, no, everything is fine..." Herta assures him, offering herself to his touches.

And yes, everything is indeed fine with her, because her brain is melting more and more with each passing second, and her skin is heating up as if she's standing under direct sunlight.

Screwllum is relentless in his examination, so his tongue — mobile, elastic, and surprisingly soft for being made entirely of metal — moves up to her collarbones, the valley between her breasts, until he finally slides over her nipple.

His warm, wet mouth covers her breast, beginning to suckle, his hand continuing to pay attention to the other breast, and Herta feels too much, so she moans.

Moans so unmistakably that no one can judge, because, God, his mouth is incredible. This modification is superb, and Herta now thanks with all her soul that Screwllum installed it.

"Your mouth is making curious sounds," Screwllum comments, moving to the other breast and beginning to suckle it too. "Your nervous system is clearly agitated."

Herta doesn't answer, merely arching toward him, while instinctively squeezing her thighs together.

Screwllum gently bites both her breasts, not overdoing the pressure. He plays with all types of licking and kissing, enjoying how soft Herta is beneath him.

Having had his fill, Screwllum rises with kisses higher and captures Herta's lips in a demanding, hot kiss, pulling her toward him by the waist.

She is all red, breathing heavily and very aroused, judging by how she moans into his mouth.

"My database has clearly expanded, but this is still not enough, and I sense tension in your body," Screwllum says, pulling away from her mouth. He sounds surprisingly calm for someone who just licked her body. "Let's delve deeper into the problem."

Stepping toward her, he moves back with her to the couch, pushing her shoulders with slight roughness to make her sit. Herta lands successfully on her backside, and Screwllum kneels before her.

"You said the problem is throughout your body," Screwllum says, again beginning to unbutton her coat, but now completely. "I need the full picture."

With obvious impatience, he opens the coat fully, and it seems Screwllum is about to fall over, because Herta has nothing on underneath except black lace stockings.

If Screwllum could, he would choke on air and die from the sight of how sexy and incredibly beautiful it looks on her.

The way Screwllum wants her right now is indecent, probably even by their standards.

Herta can't hide how pleased she is that he can't say anything and just stares at her blankly. All she needs to do is be naked to make his consciousness glitch. How delightful.

"What's wrong, Doctor?" Herta asks with a hint of mockery in her voice. "Am I that hopeless?"

His hands grab her thighs in a jerk, pulling her to the edge of the couch, causing Herta to lean back a little more, bracing herself with her hands for balance.

"It's too early to say," Screwllum replies, spreading her legs wider. "Keep them in this position."

Ensuring she understood, he releases her thighs for his next action.

Slowly and drawing out the moment, Screwllum removes his gloves, revealing his articulated fingers.

"I will examine you very deeply and thoroughly, Madam," he says in a low voice. "With particular care and attention..."

Herta feels like she's either about to get a nosebleed or die of a heart attack from how impossibly sexual he is and how much she wants him to fuck her.

Having gotten rid of his gloves, he grips her legs again, throwing them over his shoulders in a sharp motion, pulling a gasp from her. Screwllum leans in and demonstratively runs his tongue along the inside of her thigh with pressure, seeing Herta jerk and choke on air.

"Observation: you are very sensitive," he comments, rising with kisses higher. "Let's see how you respond to stimulation."

He bites the inside of her thigh with all his teeth, leaving a mark.

"But first, I want to satisfy my own curiosity," his tongue carefully licks the mark. "Will you forgive me for my audacity?"

Herta nervously nods and mutters something incoherent as Screwllum sucks her skin, leaving a hickey.

Kisses, bites, licking of his own roughness, more hickeys. Screwllum marks her thighs, claiming Herta as his and no one else's, keeping her legs fixed in a spread position, not letting her close them to squeeze them together in need.

Screwllum can't help himself, because her skin feels like velvet that he wants to touch, touch, and touch again.

What a cruel doctor.

"You're teasing..." Herta says, feeling an intensified pulsation between her legs. "Is that professional?"

Screwllum continues to cover her skin with kisses, looking at her and saying in between:

"Then ask me, Madam," he demands ruthlessly. "I want to see your readiness."

She squirms on the couch and grips its edge with her fingers.

"Please, Doctor..." Herta begins to beg. "I want you to examine me fully. I need it."

And she adds with a sigh:

"I need it so much, Doctor..."

And Screwllum loses his mind from how arousingly she begs for him to finally touch her, so he stops torturing not only her, but himself.

Herta gasps as his hot mouth covers her between her legs with pressure, running his tongue from the entrance to her clit. Screwllum concentrates his attention on the sensitive point, sucking it into his mouth, creating a vacuum, then releasing it and kissing it.

Her taste is the true taste of her body, slightly sour, but more sweet. It doesn't surprise him — Screwllum has tasted Herta many times in various states, but it doesn't stop him from letting out a moan that escapes him directly into her heated skin.

"Observation: your wetness is very high," he comments, parting her labia with his tongue and collecting her arousal with it. "You really wanted this examination, didn't you?"

And Herta can't answer, only moans openly from how Screwllum licks her clit, occasionally switching to fast vibrating movements of his tongue from side to side.

Screwllum digs his fingers into her thighs, pressing his face between them. His fingertips trace the lace edge of her stockings, feeling the material.

She lifts her head and meets his impassive optical sensors with her eyes. The sight of Screwllum looking impassively directly at her red face while he licks her takes Herta's breath away, and her hands try to ground themselves.

Her right hand, clenched in a fist, flies to her mouth, but doesn't cover it, only presses to the corner of her lips, while her left hand squeezes the couch. Herta rocks her hips toward his tongue, wanting more attention.

Having played with her exclusively with his mouth, Screwllum pulls back. A wet thread of her lubrication and his saliva stretches between her folds and his mouth.

"I want to touch you differently," he rasps, admittedly not quite in the spirit of his role, but he's genuinely trying.

Screwllum stops squeezing her thigh with his hand, changing the course of events: his fingers, having stroked the inside of her thigh, deliberately trace the edge of her stocking, then slide closer to the space between her legs.

"I need precision. The results so far are satisfactory."

His heated metal fingers trace along her wet folds, finding her throbbing clit and beginning to stimulate it. Her natural lubrication softens the friction, adding smoothness.

Herta chokes on a moan, breathing heavily from how he plays with her, giving her pleasure.

"What do you feel when I rub your clit, Madam Herta?" Screwllum asks her in a casual tone, pressing his fingers and listening to her moans. "Perhaps you liked my mouth more?"

She doesn't answer, unable to focus, and then a light but quite noticeable slap lands on her backside, making Herta cry out.

"Good reaction, but I asked you a question, Madam," he says firmly. "We agreed that you would give feedback, didn't we?"

Herta writhes beneath him, and Screwllum begins to think he may have overdone it and that the force of his slap hurt her, but all his worries disappear with her words:

"I feel better," she replies in an unstable voice. "Your methods really do work."

She looks at him again, biting her lip.

"Please, more..." Herta asks.

And Screwllum gives her more, folding two fingers and gradually penetrating inside, replacing his hand on her clit with his mouth, kissing her lingeringly.

This makes her legs jerk on his shoulders from the sheer volume of sensation.

"Your reactions to stimulation meet the norm. Sensitivity is in order, but perhaps slightly elevated," Screwllum says, stretching her with his fingers. "I wonder how you'll react if I do this..."

He presses his fingertips against the anterior wall in a spot whose location he has memorized over all their intimate sessions. His fingers gently rub the sensitive spot, and his mouth sucks on her clit, wanting a reaction.

And Screwllum gets exactly the reaction he expected, but in a slightly different form.

Herta bangs the back of her head against the couch, whimpering out a filthy "Screwy."

He needs time to restore his patience, so he bites the inside of her thigh again, restraining his strong desire to pull down his pants and fuck her right there on the couch until Herta screams his name throughout the entire tower.

She will do that, but not now. Screwllum has his own plans for her.

"An interesting reaction..." he forces out. "I'm flattered."

It dawns on Herta that she stepped slightly out of the roleplay by using his sweet nickname, and she laughs quietly, but immediately breaks off into a moan because his fingers haven't stopped moving inside her.

Pulling himself together, Screwllum pulls away from her thigh.

"Let's return to my examination of you. With my tongue."

God.

Her lubrication squelches under his fingers as he penetrates her at a steady pace, stimulating her inner walls, which clench around him more and more tightly whenever he intensifies the caresses on her clit with his mouth.

"You taste very good, Madam Herta," Screwllum remarks. "The more I examine you, the harder it is to maintain my professionalism."

He gives a wet kiss to her sensitive spot.

"You like it, don't you?" he teases her. "My tongue on your clit," Screwllum deliberately and slowly caresses it with the tip of his tongue in up-and-down motions. "My fingers penetrating and stretching you, so wet and hot," he slightly curls his fingers again, making her grip the couch. "It seems the tension is passing, isn't it?"

"Yes..." that's all she can manage to answer right now.

Herta moves on her own, rocking toward his hand and mouth, trying to fuck herself using Screwllum. Her still-unremoved coat rides up on her back from the movements of her body, but no one pays any attention.

Screwllum carefully observes how she looks right now. Sexual, hot, and needy, she whimpers and moans from how he stimulates her with his tongue, teasing, kissing, sucking, and licking, while his fingers keep moving, maintaining the rhythm.

He concludes for himself that Herta is beautiful. This is not a new opinion; he thinks this every time, but somehow she makes him fall in love with her again and again, drawing him into her body and driving all his programs crazy until Screwllum starts smoking from system overheating.

Her thighs tremble around his head, her black transparent lace stockings contrasting with her pale skin. It's an indescribable sight — Herta with her legs spread and a complete wet mess between them, lying there and receiving pleasure, completely naked except for her coat, which covers nothing, and those damn stockings.

Her small breasts sway with her movements, her mouth opens to gasp for air, and her teeth periodically sink into her lower lip.

Having stopped licking her, Screwllum pulls back to watch his fingers slide out and back in. The metal, wet with her arousal, glistens slightly when it catches the light. He really wants to pull them out of her and taste them, but Screwllum restrains himself.

He has something more interesting to savor.

"You know..." Screwllum begins, still looking at her between her legs. He finds her beautiful even in such an intimate place. "There's one more thing I need to check."

With these words, he dives into her with his mouth, sucking her clit into his mouth, starting to suck with more force, simultaneously playing with it with his tongue inside his mouth and speeding up his fingers.

Now Herta is not moaning — no, she is screaming beneath him, scratching the couch with her nails.

The slapping, obscene sounds fill the room from Screwllum's fingers thrusting into her, which repeatedly hit exactly the pleasant spots inside her vagina.

Herta loses herself in the sensations of this intense pleasure from the vacuum he creates and how he explores her in every way.

Her eyes squeeze shut, her breathing is completely ragged, and her legs tremble. Her fist again touches the corner of her lips, and her other hand scratches the couch.

All she can think is:

"God, this feels so good."

Too much, too good, already overwhelming, but she wants more.

"I... I'm close..." she moans out, grabbing his head with her hand and pressing him into herself.

"Yes?"

"Yes, fuck..."

Her legs begin to tremble, her moans become more uncontrolled, and a heat twists in her stomach.

"I'm gonna come, Doctor, I'm gonna..."

A little more, and this wave will wash over her. A little more, and this sweet pleasure will hit her nerves, and she'll get her release...

Just a little more...

His mouth disappears, and his fingers slip out of her.

Herta whimpers shamefully at the loss of stimulation and how close she was, and he just took away her pleasure. She instinctively tries to squeeze her thighs together, but her legs meet the obstacle of his hand and head.

"What the..."

"Oh, I know you're angry," Screwllum says ruthlessly, kissing her thigh. "You were so close to orgasm, but I interrupted the stimulation. But believe me, I have my reasons."

He rises from his knees and, bracing one hand on the couch beside her head, pushes his knee between her legs so she doesn't think of finishing what she started on her own.

"Since you are my favorite and prettiest patient, I have special treatment methods for you," he continues, his voice quieter and lower. "More personal."

He brings his hand, soiled with her wetness, to her face.

"Taste it," Screwllum doesn't ask, but orders. "You are delicious, Madam Herta."

His fingers slide into her mouth, and Herta tastes herself on her tongue.

She looks at him almost furiously, angry at being denied her orgasm, but she still licks his fingers with particular thoroughness, taking everything off them.

"Good girl, a good patient," Screwllum praises, leaning closer until he reaches her ear. "So, about my personal methods. I could find out how your body reacts to an orgasm and whether it would help relieve the tension throughout your body by making you come right now into my mouth and onto my fingers," his modified lips bite her earlobe, and Herta flinches. "I would be glad to, but I want something else."

A lingering, low whisper hits her directly in the ear:

"I want you to come on my cock," Screwllum whispers, and Herta's entire body shudders, covered in goosebumps.

After a short kiss on her ear, he pulls back and finally removes his fingers from her mouth. His optical sensors are fixed on her eyes again.

An amazingly beautiful woman.

"Do you agree?" Screwllum asks, tilting his head.

Herta swallows and, breathing heavily, answers:

"Yes, I think so..."

He hums contentedly, touching her bangs with his clean hand, pushing them aside slightly in a tender, caring gesture.

"Glad to hear it. I would like to stretch out the time with you."

With these words, he climbs off her and gathers the bewildered Herta from the couch. She gasps in surprise, but her open mouth is immediately covered by his.

Screwllum kisses her passionately, as if he'd been waiting for this forever. His tongue slides into her mouth, and her taste again hits her own receptors. Herta intertwines her tongue with his, rubbing them together, and moans something pleased, until Screwllum makes her eyes roll back with his persistence.

Without breaking the kiss (though it's hard to call it that — Screwllum is trying more to devour her), he yanks her coat off, tossing it to the floor. He walks with her in an embrace to the table and, after one last kiss, grabs her shoulders, turning her back to him.

Her bare chest meets the cold surface of the table as Screwllum bends her over, making her lean over the table.

"You have such a beautiful back, Madam Herta," he comments with undisguised admiration. "I couldn't miss the opportunity."

Screwllum fumbles behind her, pulling down his pants and clinking his belt buckle. Herta squirms in anticipation of what he's going to do to her.

Finally dealing with his belt, Screwllum lowers his pants, revealing his strong mechanical legs. With one of them, he spreads her legs wider, fixing them in that position so she can't bring them together.

"I'll make you feel good, Madam," he exhales, leaning closer. "So nothing will bother you anymore."

Herta feels the tip of his penis press against her and sighs.

"Relax," Screwllum asks more gently. "Your muscles are tense, that's not good. You should stop worrying and trust me completely."

Herta hums, and that's all he needs.

Screwllum guides himself with his hand and slides inside her easily, finally connecting their bodies in the most intimate way, and they both moan at the sensation. Herta from the feeling of fullness and how his metal member stretches her from the inside, and Screwllum from the tight heat attacking his maximized sensitivity.

He immediately begins to move, making thrusts that are neither fast nor slow, more like a warm-up. His hands slide over her body, stroking her back, her sides, reaching her thighs and gripping them.

"Madam Herta..." Screwllum says in a wavering voice. "Observation: your wetness is extremely high, so much so that I encounter no resistance. Am I really that good of a specialist?"

Herta wants to say something, but chokes on a breath at the next thrust.

"Excellent," she forces out, gasping again. "But the treatment is too gentle."

She pushes up on her elbows and, looking over her shoulder, catches his gaze. Her hair is in complete disarray, falling into her face, but Herta doesn't care.

Instead, she smiles, quietly moaning from his movements.

"I want you to knock all that junk out of me," Herta asks seductively. "As befits a person of high status."

It's obvious to both of them that she's not talking about his role in this game. Screwllum is a ruler who owns an entire planet and knows how to take what he wants, but his nature is too polite and modest to truly exert pressure.

But right now, he is not Screwllum, not a mechanical aristocrat, and not member #76 of the Genius Society. Right now, Screwllum is a doctor thrusting into his patient Herta, after having denied her an orgasm and teased her to the point of pitiful whining.

There's no need to think about what happens outside this room. Their true identities remain behind the doors of this laboratory, allowing the pretense to take over.

That's what games are for — to play them and enjoy them.

So Screwllum sharply presses on her back, making her lie chest-down on the table again, and applies more force to his thrusts.

"I'll do whatever you want," he says, gradually increasing the pace. "After all, you are my favorite and best patient, Madam Herta."

She lacks the sanity to answer.

Amidst his strong thrusts, Screwllum periodically adjusts the angle of penetration, searching for the spot that, according to his memory, her nervous system particularly enjoys. As soon as he hears her especially loud moan and a strong clench around him, he chooses his tactics.

His pace quickens significantly, fucking Herta beneath him against the table. His hands push her hips toward him, almost impaling her on his dick, creating more recoil, while Herta moans beneath him, resting her cheek on the table.

"Doctor..." she moans out, trying to at least breathe.

Her breasts rub against the surface with each movement, adding to the sensations, and Screwllum can't stop touching her ass, going crazy from how soft and tender her skin is.

He admires her tense back, which he presses against the table, her disheveled hair spread across the surface, the blush covering not only her face but also her neck and trembling, sharp shoulders.

She is so incredible. He doesn't want to move away from her at all, only to make her feel good again and again.

Having gotten into the rhythm, Screwllum does exactly what they had designated a safeword for.

He grabs her hair, pulling it at the roots, causing almost pain, but still mostly pressure. His pace quickens significantly as Screwllum mercilessly pounds into her, filling her.

Screwllum slaps her backside quite hard, going deeper, making Herta cry out.

But she hasn't stopped crying out — on the contrary, she's gotten even louder in response to this intense roughness.

"Oh, you like that, don't you?" Screwllum asks more loudly, not slowing down. "Obviously, yes, because you're squeezing me so tightly inside that I don't need your answer."

Herta whimpers beneath him, gripping the table.

"You feel so good and tight, my dear patient," he continues to tease. "It only fuels my interest."

Again she clenches around him, and this time Screwllum moans low and audibly.

"Taking me so deep like that," he continues through his moans. "Being such a good girl for your doctor."

Another slap from him and another obscene sound from her.

"Beautiful moans, don't hold them back. Scream as loud as you want, Madam."

Fast pace, deep and strong thrusts, his hand in her hair, occasionally pulling with more force. Her ass slaps against his metal with each movement, the spot of impact pleasantly burning, and her legs grow weaker and weaker.

The feeling of fullness feels so right, the pleasant tension of her muscles inside drives her crazy, and all her nerves seem to have been laid bare at once, receiving unforgettable sensations.

The physical pleasure is intense. The right pressure, speed, maintained rhythm, moderate roughness. Her hard nipples rub against the wood, between her legs it grows more and more slippery, and the way his teasing words mixed with praise comment on what's happening makes her move her hips toward him, making his job easier.

She can't help that it feels so good. As good and hot as his mouth between her legs and his fingers inside her, but even better — when his massive machine weight presses against her again and again, pushing and dominating with the aim of immersing her in pleasure.

Herta thinks of nothing but how good Screwllum is fucking her on this table.

Perfect, just the way she needs it. Exactly how she wanted to end the evening and help him relieve tension with this fun and rough sex.

To show that she wants him, that Screwllum turns her on incredibly and gives her intense pleasure — both physical and moral.

She loves him in every way and every manner, and Herta hopes that right now he feels it especially strongly.

On one of the thrusts, he enters especially deep, almost hitting the final, very sensitive spot inside. Herta chokes on the air from the sensation.

"I hope this isn't a problem?" Screwllum asks her in a firm voice. "Can you take this, Madam?"

"Yes!" she cries out through her moans, whimpering something at the next movement. "Fuck..."

She can't see it, but Screwllum's sensors are glowing brightly.

"Excellent. Then I'll stay deep," he says, not stopping his movements. "Let me stretch you out and thereby relieve the stiffness."

The obscene slaps of metal against hot skin grow faster, until Screwllum slows the pace, sliding out and back in.

"I'll make you come so good and so hard," escapes him in a burst of passion.

Herta tries to turn around to ask something, but Screwllum presses on her head, pulling her hair, drawing out another moan.

"I'll let you come this time, don't worry, Madam Herta," Screwllum reassures her. "Your doctor promises you. You must be so close, right? What if I..."

He slaps her backside again, briefly, for what feels like the hundredth time, sliding the same hand between her thighs.

"...rub your clit like this?"

His fingers part her slippery folds without issue, beginning to stimulate her clit in time with his fast, intense thrusts. This caress is immediate and aimed at fulfilling Screwllum's promise.

To make Herta come so well that everything before her eyes explodes.

Her inner walls clench around him, and her moans take on an absolutely indecent quality. The double stimulation makes her eyes roll back, makes her legs tremble, and the feeling of sweet release draws ever closer.

One of the advantages of an inorganic life form is endurance and flawless steadiness, so Screwllum never misses a beat and easily gives her pleasure in two ways at once.

Streams of electricity race through his wires, his systems heat up, and the sensory overload from the constant pressure on his cock grows closer. Screwllum moans openly over her, listening to these wet sounds and her screams, perfectly aware that he is the cause.

He won't last long, and apparently neither will she.

"I want you to come," Screwllum demands, pressing his fingers harder and using all the intensity he can without causing pain, holding onto her hair. "Come on, Madam Herta, come for your doctor like a..."

A thrust.

"...good..."

A movement of his fingers.

"...patient."

Continuous, intense stimulation: her nails scratch the table, the skin on her backside burns, and her mouth can't stop making loud sounds. The pleasure that was delayed earlier returns with renewed force, boiling over until it washes over her in a wave of sweet convulsions, making her experience pure ecstasy.

Herta comes violently on his cock, letting out a moan so loud that she can probably be heard all the way to her space station. Her whole body trembles, finally releasing the tension that had built up during this session of special treatment.

Almost simultaneously with her, Screwllum, feeling the intense pressure on his sensors, also moans loudly, pushing himself over the edge with a few more thrusts, and freezes, achieving a kind of inorganic orgasm.

What happens next, Herta did not expect at all.

Something hot fills her inside, burning her nerves.

She opens her eyes in surprise, but only breathes heavily, still experiencing sweet convulsions throughout her body.

Apparently, this was his surprise.

Screwllum stops massaging her clit and releases her hair. They both need a minute just to recover after such intense sex.

Waiting a moment, he leans down and hugs Herta, still lying on the table, tenderly kissing her shoulder. He feels her trembling in his arms, hears her completely ragged breathing, and feels the heat of her skin. Sweat has gathered on her back, and her bangs are stuck to her forehead.

"Are you alright?" Screwllum asks quietly and gently. "You came pretty hard."

Herta hums and receives a kiss on her temple in return.

"My good patient, the session is over," Screwllum announces. "Conclusion: you are healthy."

He climbs off her and carefully pulls out.

What he sees next makes him groan.

The absence of a barrier allows what Screwllum came inside her with to flow out. A white, warm liquid exits her, trailing down her thighs and dripping onto the floor in white drops.

Fuck, that is very hot.

"Is this what you meant?" Herta steps out of the roleplay, asking quietly. "Am I right?"

"Yes."

"I hope you remember that I'm not planning on becoming anyone's mother anytime soon."

"Of course, as I said — no risks. This modification has no fertilization capability. Only for variety in our love-making," Screwllum reassures her. "I would never do anything like that against your will, don't worry."

Herta nods, feeling calm. She trusts Screwllum completely, so it doesn't bother her.

But it does feel very nice to feel that warmth and the result of his arousal flowing down, staining her lace stockings.

Sexy.

After admiring the sight, Screwllum steps out of his pants, lifts Herta off the table, and scoops her up in his arms, not caring at all that she might stain his clothes.

She gasps in surprise, grabbing his neck with one hand, as Screwllum heads from the laboratory to the nearest bathroom.

"How did you like the experience?" Herta asks him, examining his impassive faceplate.

He finally reaches the bathroom, carefully setting her down in the bathtub and beginning to undress himself, removing his lab coat, shirt, and tie. Meanwhile, Herta pulls off her stockings and tosses them somewhere nearby.

"I really enjoyed it," Screwllum climbs in after her, drawing the purple shower curtain. His hand turns on the water, and a stream of warm water pours down on them.

His hands pull her toward him, brushing her already wet bangs from her face.

"I enjoy everything about being intimate with you, Herta," he confesses, his sensors glowing, gently stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. "Thank you for being here."

"With you, I forget that loneliness exists."

Screwllum finally kisses her, tenderly and gently, pulling her toward him by the waist with one hand and holding her neck with the other. Herta closes her eyes and moans softly into his lips as the warm waterfall cascades over them in droplets, washing the grime from her body.

"I love you," Herta whispers against his lips. "I love you so much, Screwy."

They hold each other tightly in this intimate moment, as if they share one heart between them.

"I love you too, darling."

They end the evening in bed. Naked and clean, they lie in each other's arms under the blanket.

Herta, resting her head on his metal shoulder, listens to Screwllum reading her a collection of inorganic poetry. The beautiful words, combined with his calm, measured voice, are soothing.

The last poem is read, and Screwllum sets the collection on the nightstand, turning to Herta.

"You have a very beautiful voice, Screwy," Herta compliments, smiling affectionately. "I like listening to you."

Warmth floods his neural impulses, and happiness fills all his systems.

"Thank you," he replies, leaning in. "I like yours too, especially today — it sounded excellent."

Herta laughs sincerely, and Screwllum finds her terribly cute in that moment, so much so that he wants to devour her with love.

Unable to restrain his desire, Screwllum, in a loving gesture, gently bites Herta's cheek with his modified teeth, leaning forward and falling onto the bed with her in an embrace, while Herta whines something about an "overly tactile machine," but offers no resistance to his touches.

Love is the best cure in the entire cosmos.