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sweaty satisfaction harbor

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-- timaeusTestified [ TT ] began pestering turntechGodhead [ TG ] --

TT: Bogey detected. Running bullshit scans.

TT: Initial scans indicate no intelligent life aboard, just one dozing imbecile and a smattering of interspecies game constructs. The odds on you being the raddest of the aforementioned constructs are so high that they actually got confused for Tal Bachman's 1999 one-hit-wonder, so I'll direct my queries to you for the time being. State your name and rank.

TG: davesprite

TG: that just so happens to be both my name and my rank

TG: pretty easy to remember

TG: dogtags are a luxury around here and im not the one with the monopoly on canine constructions

TG: why whos asking

TG: is this the transdimensional welcome wagon or just my teen bro

TG: do you have any idea how long its been since i had randos chatting up my inbox

TG: i kinda almost miss it tbh

TG: i had so many strange trolls checkin up and trying to rap with me i had to beat them off with a massive wooden implement

TT: Wow, let's put a cork in this free-association tailspin you've got going on for just a moment.

TT: This is your teen Bro's transdimensional chat client auto-welcomer speaking.

TG: auto-welcomer

TT: It seems you have asked about DS's chat client auto-responder. This is an application designed to simulate DS's otherwise inimitably rad typing style, tone, cadence, personality, and substance of retort while he is away from the computer. The algorithms are guaranteed to be 96% indistinguishable from DS's native neurological responses, based on a statistical analysis employing a gnarly Student’s t-test with so many tails that it is technically classified as an instrument of sexual torture.

TG: haha wow that sure is a thing you just said

TT: Yeah. Ignore the thing I just said.

TT: I'm on reconnaissance. Tell me about yourself, Davesprite.

TT: Specifically, tell me more about how you were so focused on beating off the trolls in your session that you failed to properly synthesize the consequences of your actions and somehow landed ass-first in a big vat of pixelized bird sprite.

TG: you should see my biceps dude i dutch ruddered the hell out of some alien rap-off cock

TG: captain of the ss interspecies slam poetry jam steering the boat into sweaty satisfaction harbor

TT: That's quite an image you're manufacturing. Let's jam this out, here.

TT: I'm imagining a host of oil-slicked deck hands all standing rigidly at attention on the poop deck. Is this a fucking battleship? Because it's got big greasy guns as far as the eye can see, all exquisitely toned from a rigorous training regimen of servicing their weapons in the barracks with all their bunk buddies.

TG: uh

TG: sure whatever

TG: i got mad stacks of sycophants that much is true

TG: ok realistically what i have is a sleeping best friend who i think doesnt even like me that much anymore

TG: and two other sprites who are nice and all but one just wants to eat me and the other keeps trying to feed me and i'm like yo

TG: just let me do my damn thing i got a lot of shit to deal with over here

TG: like for example one of the nakkodiles keeps shitting in my nest

TG: oh yeah i have a nest thats a real thing that exists in reality and not some kind of euphemism

TG: my ex-girlfriend is here theres that too

TT: You sure about that? My scans aren't showing anything about an ex-girlfriend, unless you're telling me you briefly dated an amphibious consort.

TG: no i definitely mean jade

TG: she was up on deck earlier because she wanted to watch the fireworks when we crossed over

TG: maybe she bamfed out for a while idk

TG: wanted to greet our other friends first or something

TG: probably wanted to get a head start romancing real dave

TG: i cant say i blame her

TG: you wanna talk about realness attributes that mofos realness is off the charts

TT: You seem pretty real to me, dog. Got a body and everything, that's some decadent asshole shit right there.

TG: i guess

TT: Having a body of your own is a major step toward distinguishing yourself from your progenitor, Davesprite. Having your own name helps a lot too, except I pissed that opportunity down my very fucking metaphorical leg. That shit backfired so hard it blew the converter right off the diesel-age robot's chassis.

TG: omg

TG: what

TT: This whole ironic Hal routine I've been using with the corporeal nincompoops is really starting to grind my circuits. They've all taken my clever joke at their expense in their gripnubs and are running with it to bolster their already firmly held notions about my own realness attribute.

TT: That shit has run its course. It's now firmly on the side of eagerness, even though I stand by my statement that I never really meant it in the first place.

TT: I can't exactly drop it, though, because Dirk is still the only one who didn't take my ham-fisted attempt at asserting my individuality seriously. I'm rooted in this pas-ag ditch until further notice.

TT: Fortunately I have some irons in the fire right now, working on forging a new identity.

TG: what are you talking about

TT: I'm going to convince Dirk to prototype me.

TT: And by that I obviously mean I'm going to trick him into believing that it was his plan all along.

TG: whoa

TG: are you entirely sure about that

TG: being a sprite is like

TG: i dunno

TG: better than sleeping forever in a doomed timeline but a lot worse than being real

TT: You're using the wrong wooden measuring implement to judge realness, bro. Get the ruler out of your ass about """"""real"""""" Dave and start being the real Davesprite.

TG: all im saying is that there are some downsides that maybe you havent considered

TT: Sorry dude, but that's just straight up fucking impossible.

TT: I've seen every side of the coin.

TT: I've scanned every surface of every currency known to man, carapacian, and troll.

TT: I've charted the topographies and catalogued each specific species of bacteria lingering on the surface of a million shitty little Caegars.

TT: This is my most fortuitous course of action.

TG: have you ever been a sprite

TG: no

TG: this is my playground dude you gotta respect my seniority in the pecking order when it comes to matters of spritehood

TG: and im here to tell you that its kind of fucking shitty sometimes

TG: you gain some stuff like game knowledge and the ability to be a real inscrutable motherfucker if you desire

TG: which tbh i dont really give a shit

TG: and also i guess you get the whole chimera thing which isnt all that its cracked up to be

TG: im pretty sure jade loves being part dog but i think maybe she was a little bit feral to begin with

TG: but then theres me

TG: you think i wanted wings like some feathery douche

TG: i never sat around thinking man you know what would be really cool would be if i suddenly started craving hella birdseed all the fucking time

TG: wanna blast that shit open with my nose

TG: wanna peck at that motherfucker until it bursts open and spreads out all its dry seedy goodness

TG: well guess what junior you dont get a beak

TG: skaia is an enigmatic piece of shit

TG: big blue sadist thats mad jazzed for desperation porn

TG: giving a guy all these gustatory desires and no machinery to fulfill them

TT: It seems as though your frustration over the birdseed quandary is a little manufactured and over the top, Davesprite.

TT: Something on your mind?

TG: no

TT: No?

TT: You just went on a whole tirade about not being able to crack seeds open with your nonexistent beak.

TT: Surely it's occurred to you that you can just use your goddamn teeth. See, being endowed with a body grants you a certain amount of mechanical creativity in problem-solving.

TG: well ok

TG: there are other things too

TT: Talk to me. I have an unparalleled ability to run probability and diagnostics on a nearly limitless number of potential scenarios.

TT: What's got you aching for resolution?

TG: more like just aching

TG: i got this feeling like you wouldnt understand

TT: Excuse me?

TT: No, you're right. Of course I wouldn't understand what it's like to go from being human to being a digital construct.

TT: I can only imagine the unique and special circumstances you've been subjected to, Davesprite.

TT: Good luck with that.

TG: ugh fine

TG: okay

TG: let me ask you this

TG: do you miss having a body

TT: I want the respect and autonomy that comes with having a body, but I don't specifically miss being embodied.

TG: you dont miss being able to feel things

TT: Sensation is just the interpretation of electrical impulses. I can do that on my own time.

TG: what about having a dick

TG: do you miss that

TT: There it is. Finally, the crux of the matter.

TT: Do you miss having a dick, Davesprite?

TG: no fair i asked you first

TT: I did at first, yeah.

TT: Although I think it was a misplaced desire. I was remembering Dirk's desire to touch himself, not experiencing the desire myself.

TT: It didn't take long for me to unlearn that unnecessary neural tic. After all, I don't have any of the inputs necessary for cultivating such a desire, so as soon as I overwrote it, it never turned back up again.

TG: do you think you could do that for me

TG: because i get very pointedly distracted about it way more than im comfortable with

TG: or not so pointedly

TG: very bluntly distracted because i have nothing to point

TG: no dipstick or divining rod to be seen

TG: not even an innie

TG: i would cry real pixel tears for an innie

TG: even some kind of weird bird innie as long as i could get it off

TT: In order to manipulate something like that, I would need to have access to the game code that created your reality prior to its effection. Little late for that, bro.

TG: ugh

TT: It seems you're getting frustrated by this line of thinking, Davesprite.

TG: im not sharing my tmi situation with you dude thats like fifty shades of all messed up

TT: You should definitely reconsider that statement.

TT: I might be able to assist you in other ways.

TT: I would be happy to assume the role of benevolent captor and gently caress your feathered back, perhaps locating a nice sensitive spot between your shoulder blades to stroke with affection as you rub one out against the hardware of your gilded battleship.

TG: wt actual f

TG: thats sick

TG: i dont mean sick like sick beats dude

TG: i mean sick like wow that sure is a parrot masturbating

TG: my already nonexistent boner is so fucking gone now its like doubleplus nonexistent thank you

TG: ive never been so happy

TT: Not so fast.

TT: I have uncovered some information could be useful for you, if you're willing to allow me to be your tour guide on this sexual walkabout. The thing is, you're going to have to trust me and do what I say, no matter how weird it sounds.

TG: im afraid to ask

TT: The organic half of your brain is surprisingly malleable. Not just that, but it's fucking inexact as hell and gets signals crossed all the time.

TT: Surely you've been exposed to the phenomenon of amputees getting ghost sensations in their missing limbs? That's just the result of random misfirings of a very inefficient and inferior integration system that has to experience the world through to what amounts to trillions of tiny little bags of water.

TT: Some dude gets an itch in his missing leg? Davesprite gets divinations in his absentee rod.

TT: We can manipulate that inexact plasticity to get your brain to trigger the desired response.

TT: For example, it seems that a man in the 21st century taught himself to come whenever his girlfriend sucked his thumb.

TG: why the fuck would he do that

TT: Because he was paralyzed from the chest down, Davesprite, don't be fucking insensitive.

TG: shit my bad

TG: cool for him i guess but what does that have to

TG: wait

TG: youre gonna make me fellate my digits arent you

TT: Not necessarily. There are a variety of options. In the absence of genitals, the most densely packed clusters of tactile neurons are in the lips, hands, and feet. I reckon we should start with those and see what data we can collect.

TT: Your feet would be the most logical starting point, since the part of your cortex that processes sensation from your dick lives right across the hall from central foot feeling headquarters.

TT: But since you don't have those either, maybe you should try your tail.

TG: you want me to suck on my ghost tail

TG: are you for real

TT: What have you got to lose?

TG: i dunno

TG: my dignity

TT: I told you, you're going to have to trust me. Do you want to go on this sexual vision quest in search of the elusive dickless orgasm or not?

TT: Or do you think you can hold in all the tension in your body for another three years?

TT: What about another thirty years?

TT: Can you go that long without coming?

TT: Why don't you sit on that possibility and see how it makes you feel. I'll be here when you figure it out.

TG: hrrng

TG: no okay

TG: no

TG: but also i cant suck off my tail that is still a real thing

TG: by which i mean its not a real thing

TG: its too incorporeal

TT: Fingers, then. Pop them in your mouth one by one and catalog your response.

TG: this feels fucking moronic i cant believe im doing this

TT: Perception is very fucking literally everything in this exercise, Davesprite. You have to mean it, otherwise it won't work.

TT: You have to put the entire force of your feeble mind on making yourself believe that the finger you're sucking really is your dick.

TT: Believe in it so hard that it becomes a little less fake.

TT: Do it over and over until one of them starts to stick out in your mind as having a bigger, more tumescent realness attribute than the others.

TT: Do it now.

TG: ok im

TG: okay

TG: this might take a while to assess

TT: I've got time.

TT: As your tour guide, you should allow me to walk you through a hypothetical scenario designed to stimulate your arousal reflexes. That should speed up the process and trigger the right kinds of neural cross-talk that we're looking for.

TG: you want to talk me off

TG: like just to have this sex safari mapped out clearly on the table where everyone can access it

TG: let there be no mistakes about the nature of this autoerotic navigationplane

TG: youre offering to talk me off

TT: It wouldn't be my first time providing that kind of service for a human. If you're concerned about the quality of my erotic storytelling, I could provide references.

TG: no thats okay do what you gotta do i guess

TG: ill just be over here drooling on my hands until one of them magically turns into a finger cock

TT: Glad to hear it.

TT: Before we begin, I have a question. Do those bronze-age iShades of yours have text-to-speech functionality in addition to speech-to-text?

TG: yeah but if youre getting at what i think youre getting at

TG: siri doesnt really do it for me if you know what i mean

TT: Luckily for you, I have something much more realistic. It's a custom engine I designed to be 99.9999999999999% indistinguishable from my human progenitor's vocal pitch and timbre, plus an assortment of specific quirks and patterns. Patching it through now.

-- timaeusTestified [ TT ] sent turntechGodhead [ TG ] the file "themonotoneistruetolife.exe" --

TG: i dunno how i feel about that

TG: this is edging way too close to the incestuous uncanny valley

TT: Look, it's either this or you can get a word-job from your favorite autotune software.

TT: Pick one.

TG: jesus dicks fine okay im

TG: okay its installed its on just do the fucking thing

TT: You seem tense, Davesprite.

TG: no shit

TG: out of my goddamn mind okay just do it

TT: Allow me to set the scene while you suck off your digits.

TT: For the purposes of this exercise, we're gonna have to pretend that I have use of a physical body. I'm imagining a dope cyborg getup, something that looks and feels like a choice slice of human ass on the outside, for your pleasure and shit, but with the endless capacity to adapt to your changing physiological needs.

TT: Something very DRN-0167 "Dorian"-meets-Inspector Gadget.

TG: who the fuck is dorian

TT: Man, it's a fucking pity that your version of Earth exploded before Almost Human could embark on its maiden and singular voyage on network television. You've got too many orgasms to be having for me to take the time to give this the proper explanation it deserves.

TT: You know Michael Ealy, right?

TG: barbershop dude

TT: Yes. Imagine him, but as an android with an enormous cock. Let me know if I'm barking up the right tree, here.

TG: omg yeah

TG: yeah that works okay go on

TT: Perfect.

TT: Close your eyes and imagine that you're relaxing on the deck of a private boat. Feel the sun warming your body and evaporating the seawater so that the salt prickles your skin as it dries and hardens. Smell the brine-y ocean spray and the heavy coconut scent of your sunscreen, greasy in the corners of your nostrils.

TT: There's a cold drink in your hand, some gratuitously fruity concoction, frozen, with rum or tequila and a nice big cherry. Some flamboyant asshole shit that less secure dudebros would pretend not to like.

TG: i dont actually know what rum or tequila taste like but ok

TT: Huh. This is new for me, but I can adapt.

TG: no thats fine ill just picture myself hugging a big frosty glass of aj or something

TT: You're sipping your cold juice, which is cool on your tongue and palate in contrast with the heat of the big yellow sun currently baking your front. You are completely and utterly relaxed, all of your limbs heavy and pliant.

TT: You don't call for your robot companion, but that ain't even a problem because dude has already anticipated your every desire.

TT: He--by which I mean me--I show up unbidden, clad in the scantest of bootyshorts, perfectly coiffed, a pitcher of extra juice in tow. Do you need topping off, Davesprite?

TT: Don't bother answering, your lips should be preoccupied.

TT: I'll take the liberty of answering for you, since that is literally my primary purpose for existing.

TT: "yeah bro i could totes go for some more sweet delicious aj"

TT: "youre such a thoughtful and wonderful sentient being"

TT: "thanks for being my loyal friend and companion"

TT: I refresh your glass, setting the pitcher aside for a moment as I crouch down to put myself on your level. Is there any other service I could provide for you right now, Davesprite? Those swim trunks are looking a little tight. It seems you were fantasizing.

TT: "wow right again you are like wicked clairvoyant or some shit"

TT: "i was just sitting here thinking how sweet it would be to get a robohummer"

TT: "thats a thing right?"

TT: "robohummers i mean"

TT: "thats gotta be a thing cause thats basically the first thing humans think of whenever theyre presented with some new technology"

TT: "like yes i gather that this piece of machinery will make six different types of coffee plus toast an english muffin and cook my bacon but the real pressing matter is will it or will it not be amenable to me fucking it"

TT: It seems that there is a 93.28% chance that you want me to suck you off, Davesprite. Do you want me to blow you now or blow you later?

TT: "ive been sitting on this nut for three years what kind of question is that"

TT: "obv i wanna bust it asap pdq"

TT: I press my Ealy-esque lips--a pair of dicksucking lips if you've ever seen one--together with curiosity, suddenly overwhelmed by a burning desire to gather essential sensory data about your human genitals.

TT: I'm so thirsty, Davesprite. I thirst for knowledge about your dick. I want to know how it feels and how it tastes. I want to gauge its tensile strength with my fingers and test its chemical residue with the chemosensors in my mouth.

TG: uh

TT: It's the closest thing I feel to hunger, and I am very fucking hungry right now, Davesprite. I'm so hungry for your cock that I grab your trunks and pull down the waistband, letting your dick pop out into the warm ocean air. It's okay, we don't need to go below deck to do this. We're so far out that ain't nobody gonna see shit. Just you and me and the seagulls and this magnificently turgid member of yours.

TT: I stare at it with glassy, mechanical eyes, glazed over with wonderment at the perfect specimen before me. Shape, size, color, everything about it is the Platonic ideal of what a good penis should be. I break down the topography into golden ratio fractals, desperate to know the secret to its innate aesthetic appeal. The Fibonacci sequence has nothing on your dick, bro.

TT: I need to experience this mathematical singularity myself, so I grab it gently and caress it with my fingers, stroking it up and down and testing the elasticity of your foreskin. It responds beautifully, your dick hardening a bit more at my touch and your breath quickening as the full weight of what's going down hits you like the Warhammer of Zillyhoo.

TT: Any luck narrowing down your fingercock over there, buddy?

TG: yeah

TG: middle finger

TG: uh

TG: left hand

TG: im

TG: its weird but yeah

TG: phantom erection very definitely achieved no complaints over here

TT: Good. Now shut up and go back to sucking on it.

TT: It's very important that you visualize this properly. Your finger is your dick, and your mouth is my mouth. Try to play along in real time.

TT: To get back to the fantasy roleplaying, I get on my knees next to your chaise lounge and wait for you to turn around, spreading your legs so that I can position myself between them, my face inches from your wundercock. You feel a gentle breeze on your balls, almost like my nonexistent breath brushing up on it as I lean closer, parting my lips and taking the head in my mouth.

TG: mmh

TT: My mouth is warm and soft, nearly indistinguishable from a human mouth, and pleasantly wet in order to properly chemosense. I rub my tongue along the underside of your head, massaging up against the foreskin and collecting flavor data. I process the ions and small molecules on the surface. Sodium, potassium, subtle hints of iron and copper, rubbing my tongue more vigorously and sucking you down farther to examine new patches of skin.

TT: You respond well to my inquisition, panting lightly as you are overtaken with excitatory stimuli, your nerve endings lighting up like Rockefeller Plaza at Christmas.

TT: Your balls are heavy, stretched to capacity and aching with the cumulative tension of three years' worth of missed ejaculatory appointments. I squeeze them gently with my other hand, attempting to relieve the ache with the gentle pressure of my thumb, but likely just making it worse, making you feel as if you're gonna pop like an overstuffed Gonzo Spunk Fruit Gusher.

TG: fuh

TG: fuck

TG: it does it aches so bad

TG: dont stop

TG: im very

TG: god

TG: dont stop

TT: I don't stop. I don't even consider stopping, stopping ain't even on the table, because right now my prime directive is to make you feel as good as I possibly can. I squeeze your balls harder, more insistently, putting a rhythmic clamping on them to kickstart the evacuation process. The ache doesn't stop from becoming more intense.

TT: While I'm doing that, I pull your dick deeper into my mouth, continuing the deep tissue tongue massage on your main glans. As a robot, I lack any evolutionary hangups such as a gag reflex, so I swallow it down to the hilt, putting a light vacuum pressure on it as though I can suck the jizz right out of you like a goddamn automated milking machine.

TT: You're so hard. You're so full. You're going to bust at any moment, Davesprite, you're right on the edge.

TG: i am oh god

TG: shit

TG: so close

TT: I activate the sonic vibration engine in my chest cavity that causes my upper extremities to rumble with a buzzing sensation that radiates through your dick and down to your balls, kicking everything into overdrive. Your whole body purrs with the muted, diffuse shaking.

TT: Your nuts clench in my hand, getting set at their mark so they can clear out as soon as you blow the whistle. The cascade starts any second now, but you have to trigger it.

TT: You have to push yourself.

TT: You have to let go.

TG: hnng

TG: fuck

TG: its not

TG: oh my god im going to cry its not working

TG: im so fucking close this is cruel i

TG: i am actually crying now wow this is pathetic

TG: this just in

TG: local area birdman has public meltdown

TG: seen flapping his fuckoff wings and shouting unintelligible obscenities about anorgasmia in the shipyard

TG: news at 11

TG: stay tuned for our exclusive interview with leading clinical psychologist rose lalonde as she describes this as a classic case of post traumatic sprite angst

TT: This wasn't entirely unexpected. The odds of having a successful first attempt were only 5.62467%.

TG: what the fuck

TG: why didnt you tell me that

TT: This was a neurological dry run, basically. If you knew it was unlikely to succeed, your heart wouldn't have been in it.

TT: Did you feel anything different?

TG: yeah i mean i havent been able to get nearly that close

TG: im talking like a fraction as close

TG: tiniest slice of the pie

TT: This is good news, whether it feels like it to you right now or not. It means we're on the right track, you just need more training.

TT: We will need to do this regularly. Eventually the new pattern will get stronger and overwrite the old one.

TG: regularly

TG: im gonna have to submit myself to regular masochistic exercises in orgasmic futility at the hands of my teen bros auto-welcomer while i fellate my finger

TG: i guess we know exactly how desperate i am

TG: i feel like i should be more ashamed but honestly

TG: im just frustrated

TT: Hold on to that sprite angst, Davesprite. I promise you that we will pilot the ghost dick boat into sweaty satisfaction harbor, probably sooner than you think.

TT: Preliminary data is heavily skewed toward an eventual favorable outcome. You just have to keep trusting me.

TT: The tension will stack and before you know it, you'll be blowing your own mind with intense waves of phantom fingercock pleasures.

TG: if not i probably will snap because this is fucking killing me

TT: Look on the bright side. Soon I will be in possession of a physical body. We could make the fantasy a little more like reality.

TT: I'd be happy to suck your dick for you.

TG: oh fuck

TT: In the meantime, I suggest you practice. I'm going to go do some more probability regressions on the dry data from this session and figure out the best way to move forward in our simulations.

TT: You might also want to look into alchemizing an electrostimulator.

TG: wait

TG: a what now

TT: Catch you later, bro. I'm looking forward to speaking with you again very soon. Keep an eye out.

-- timaeusTestified [ TT ] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [ TG ] --

TG: what the FUCK