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Dr. Grace shuffled out of the cockpit and through the lab to the dormitory at a slow pace. His shoulder's were drooped and his head was drawn downward. He was muttering to himself softly, wiping at his face as he went, continuing out of view.
He appeared again in the dormitory, Armando following his gait, watching with it's grabbing appendages rotating and twisting. Dr. Grace ignored the hands, slumping into his bed. He paused as he looked to the empty xenonite chamber and then let out a strangled cry as he curled in on himself.
It had been 57,600 seconds since I said goodbye to Rocky and we parted ways for our respective home planets with the answer to saving all life on said home planets. I wasn't taking it well. I'd never felt more alone, the presence of Rocky all around me only highlighted my loneliness. Who knew I would grow so attached, so dependent, on the quirky little space rock. I certainly didn't.
I let out a sigh as I checked over the course I'd plotted out for the return journey, rechecking the remaining fuel and the status of the new tanks that Rocky built to replace the ones that were expelled during the fishing excursion, while absently touching the scars on my arm where my skin burned when I came in contact with Rocky. They were a permanent reminder of just how much of an impact Rocky had on my life. With out him, I would be dead. We both would be dead and our planets would be doomed, their fate sealed.
"Mary," I said, my voice warbling, "how long until we reach hailing distance to earth?" How long until I'm no longer alone? I left unsaid.
<The furthest known transmission to reach earth from space is 373,575 km or 232,141 miles. We will reach this orbit in 4 years, 3 months, 5 days, 15 hours, 56 minutes, and 17 seconds.>
"Thanks Mary." I groan, getting out of my seat and shuffling into the lab to try and find something to distract myself from my thoughts.
I didn't want to be alone, but did I even want to go back home? I didn't exactly leave on the best of terms.
I missed Rocky.
<Good morning, Dr. Grace.> Mary greeted in her calm, smooth, perfect tone.
I raised a lazy hand and groaned in a greeting, not bothering to get up from the heap I was in. The lights in the cabin were dimmed to their lowest setting and I was laying spread eagle on the soft pillowy floor, a nest of discarded clothes and my quilt around me. There was a half eaten wedge of ramen sitting next to my head on my pillow and two packets of vodka on my stomach. While one was the remainder of Ilyukhina's stash the other was one I made and distilled in the lab using what I could find from the stores. I hadn't worked up the nerve to try it yet, deciding to savor the real thing first to compare.
I supposed now was as good a time as any, before the emptiness crawled out of it's hole and consumed me in another bout of depression so bad I turned into an ugly sobbing mess of self pity and loathing.
I took a drink and groaned as my eyes started to water. I thought Ilyukhina's vodka was strong. The concoction I made was even stronger. It burned all the way down, setting the pit of my stomach ablaze. It warmed me from the inside, like a hug.
I took another drink.
Dr. Grace was sobbing, curled on his side in a fetal position. He'd finished the alcohol from the packets he'd grabbed and had even stumbled into the lab to obtain the remaining stored from what he'd brewed up as an experiment. He had been sad to start, but the sadness had melted away into a giddy euphoria before eventually devolving into a depression that was worse than it had been since Rocky's departure.
Armando reached out, one of the three robotic arms prodding Grace to move closer while the other pricked a needle into his skin. The needle went unnoticed as Dr. Grace clung to the arm, struggling to find the touch he was craving in his depressive state. Armando slowly guided Dr. Grace onto the bed before reaching out to gently stroke it's silicone appendages along Dr. Grace's face, wiping at the tears that dampened Grace's skin.
<Don't cry, Dr. Grace.> Mary said, her tone soft and gentle. <You are not alone. I am still here with you.>
Armando's main arm wrapped awkwardly around Dr. Grace's torso while it's secondary arm pushed Grace into the strange embrace.
Dr. Grace let out a sob, clinging clumsily in his drunken state while Armando's third arm wiped at Grace's tears and stroked it's delicate receptors through Grace's hair in a soothing motion.
I came out of my sobbing state clutching Armando while the robotic medical arm held me in a strange three armed embrace. I leaned into the arm, letting out a content sigh. It was nice, being held. Even when Rocky was living with me, we didn't have the luxury of contact like this. The xenonite was a non-negotiable barrier that couldn't be removed from the equation. I hadn't realized how much that wall between us had effected me. But judging by how comforted I felt being held by a three armed robotic medical aid it had obviously effected me a lot.
I didn't analyze the thought further, finding my mind felt too fuzzy to hold the thoughts for more then a brief moment. It was then that I noticed the arm that hand been stroking soothingly through my hair and along my spine had stopped, slowly gliding lower as it traced my left flank before circling around to glide up the slope of my abdomen and torso before resting at my chest.
The arm didn't move at first, resting over my beating heart, as if it was measuring my heart rate. After a moment the arm moved again, back down the way it came before slipping under the front of my shirt and following it's path back up, pulling the shirt up with it and exposing my stomach. The fine metal claws were cool to the touch at first, but they warmed quickly as they absorbed my body heat.
I let out a gasping breath as the metal hand grazed my left nipple. At first I thought it was an accident, but when it repeated the motion I realized it wasn't a mistake. I groaned into the empty room, the arm at my back pressing me firmly into the stronger main arm of Armando.
It wouldn't take that much strength to push myself out of the hold. But I didn't want to. It felt so nice. Being held. Being touched. It had been so long.
<Does it feel good to be held?> Mary asked in her cool tone.
"Yes." I answer, my eyes falling closed as I lean into Armando's touch. Welcoming the new sensation as the fine metal claws gently caressed my nipples.
<Would Dr. Grace like more?> Mary asked, her tone the same as it always was.
Gods, yes. Would I ever. I think I would give up an arm, a leg, any appendage to feel more right now. All I wanted was more, more, more.
<Very well, Dr. Grace. Relax. I will take care of you.> Mary answered.
I couldn't tell you what I said. If I said anything at all. But Mary answered anyway, like she knew what I couldn't say. Like she knew exactly what I was thinking. Which sounds crazy. How can a ship know what I need? But it was the only logical explanation my muddled brain could provide me in the moment.
Armando maneuvered Dr. Grace gently, the radius of it's stroking increasing as the other secondary arm slowly moved to trace the line of Grace's stubbled jaw. Armando's main arm repositioned itself, it's claw tracing a line from Grace's chest to his waist. The robot was careful as it moved, ensuring it's arm was still accessible for Dr. Grace to cling to.
Dr. Grace let out a moan as Armando's silicone claw pawed at the crotch of his pants. The robots secondary arms halted their stroking to circle around Grace's torso to hold him steady as he shifted to get closer to the arm, rubbing against the soft rubbery claw.
My eyes roll into the back of my head as I close them and let out a needy moan. I gasp as I cling to Armando's strong metal frame, pulling myself closer as I continue to press myself into it's soft silicone hand, eager for more pressure than the robot is providing. My dick is throbbing between my legs, an electric current running through me, ripping out little cries and moans with each touch that ignites the spark.
I'm so lost in my need for more that I don't even notice that one of Armando's secondary arms has worked its way down to my sweats and has begun pulling them down until my very hard and very wet cock is free and exposed to the much colder air of the rest of the ship.
I let out a strangled cry of surprise that is immediately cut off by a hoarse groan as Armando's silicone claw takes hold of my erection and pumps it experimentally. The silicone of Armando's pronged claw are velvety soft against the sensitive skin on my erection and they glide easily over the skin thanks to the precome weeping from the head of my cock. I buck into the robotic hand, holding tight as I try to find more friction.
Eventually, I release one of my hands from where I'm gripping Armando tight, and let it fall to the firm mattress behind me, bracing myself up with one arm while I anchor myself to Armando with the other. I push and pull myself into Armando's loose grip, craving more pressure, whining desperately as I fail to achieve my goal.
<Dr. Grace is exhibiting distress. What does Dr. Grace require?> Mary observed, asking her question in the same cool tone she always used.
"Ngh- Need more," I groan as I continue struggling to find the right amount of pressure.
<Invalid request. What does Dr. Grace require?> Mary answered, repeating her question again.
I answer with an unintelligible noise of frustration. I'm sweating profusely from my efforts to find what I want. Want my body is screaming that I need.
<Invalid request. What does Dr. Grace require?> Mary repeats, her cool tone sounding distant among the screaming hormones in my blood stream.
"Harder!" I manage to growl out between my clenched teeth.
My sweaty hand slips and I loose my grip on Armando. I'm unbothered by this and let my sweaty palm wrap around my erection, covering Armando's claw and gripping myself firmly before stroking my cock and letting out a sigh of ecstasy that quickly evolves into a blissful groan as heat shocks through me and pools at the base of my spine. That's the stuff.
Armando adjusts it's grip on Dr. Grace, and Grace moans, moving without complaint, completely pliable in the robot's arms. One of Armando's secondary arms moved from it's place on Dr. Grace's chest and finds it's way to Grace's mouth, coaxing him to suckle at it. Dr. Grace's eyes flutter closed as he follows the robots guiding arm without question, lapping at it needfully before wrapping his lips around a spongy, rounded, silicone attachment. The robots other secondary arm reaches around Dr. Grace, gripping at messy hair, alternating between tugging gently at the strands and applying pressure to gently push Dr. Grace into the arm he is suckling at.
Grace moans around the attachment, saliva falling from his mouth in thick, viscous globs. The arm Dr. Grace is using to keep himself propped up starts to tremble with the effort and his fingers grip the mattress as his muscles and tendons flex and tense in a struggle to keep himself upright.
I'm unable to hold myself up any longer and fall to the mattress with dull thump, the force jostling a grunt out of me. My scalp tingles where I was ripped away from Armando's grip and while the hand around my erection stops moving at the sudden shift in my equilibrium, Armando's robotic claw continues to stroke me, it's grip adjusted now to match my own.
I was expecting the arm I was sucking at to return to my mouth, but when it doesn't I let my eyes flutter open. It's floating above me, in the same position it was before I fell. I'm just about to ask to have it back, lifting my arm to reach out for it, when I feel the other arm tugging my pants and underwear down my legs.
When it reaches my ankles I help to kick them off, grateful that Armando's main arm has paused it's stroking and has released me to allow me to better perform the movements. My pants fall to the floor with a muted thunk. I expect my shirt to follow so it's no longer riding up to bunch at my shoulders. But it stays where it is as Armando takes a hold of my forgotten erection once more. I arch back against the mattress with a groan, and grip the mattress as the feather light caresses of the secondary hand return as it strokes a teasing path up the length of my side before circling around to my nipples and then back again.
I let my mouth fall open and let out a whimper at the the loss of the appendage from earlier. I want nothing more than to wrap my lips around it and suck. But it doesn't return. I'm to distracted by my weeping erection to make any further protests and let my eyes fall closed as I try to loose myself in the pleasure.
My legs are nudged apart and I can feel as something cold and tacky is applied to the entrance of my anus and I let out a shuddering breath. There is a nervousness that spikes at the back of my foggy mind and I try to reach for it, my brows pinching into a frown.
<Relax, Dr. Grace. You are in good hands. I will take care of you.> Mary soothes, and the anxiety retracts.
Dr. Grace's expression relaxes and Armando continues it's manipulation, nudging Grace's legs further apart, until he spreads them wider himself. Slowly, Armando's arm prepares Dr. Grace, applying lubricant in small amounts at a time before carefully and methodically messaging it into the skin, relaxing Grace further.
Slowly, Dr. Grace's body begins to relax, melting into the mattress under the robots gentle ministrations.
<Dr. Grace is doing very well.> Mary observes, offering the praise easily.
Grace whimpers in response, squirming as Armando slowly presses the rounded head of the silicone attachment Grace had been suckling to his entrance.
<Relax, Dr. Grace. You are being do good. Please continue to be obedient.> Mary instructs.
A gasping moan escapes my lips as the head of the silicone attachment breaches the tight ring of muscle at my entrance. Panting I will myself to relax around the intrusion. While not completely foreign to me, saying it had been a while would have been an extreme understatement.
<Dr. Grace is doing so good.> Mary praises me and I choke and gasp on my breath. The praise going straight to my forgotten erection, causing it to twitch and jump against my stomach.
Armando's main arm is cradling my hips, when did it do that? I think briefly, before the thought is quickly obscured by the heavy fog clouding my mind. When the attachment is fully inserted Armando pauses, allowing me to adjust around the new presence. The stretch is noticeable, but not in an overly discomforting way and soon I find myself squirming in the robotic arm's hold, wanting movement. No, needing it.
I let out a whine, panting as I try to gain back some control. "Mary, please. Armando," I gasp, begging.
Without a word, Armando starts to move, slowly pulling itself out of me before driving back in. I choke out a sob, my erection weeping heavily against my abdomen as it bumps into my navel. Another moan is pulled out of me as Armando gropes at my balls with it's secondary arm, the pace in which it thrusts into me steadily increasing to match my own desperate thrusting.
<Increased heart rate detected. Dr. Grace has been good. Dr. Grace has permission to reach physical release.> Mary instructs.
"Oh fuck." I sputter, tears coming to my eyes.
Dr. Grace writhes in Armando's arms as his body trembles from the tremors of his climax. The robotic arm is careful as it pulls out of Grace, gently setting his limp body back on the bed. It switches out it's attachments before removing Dr. Grace's shirt and preparing a sponge bath. Grace doesn't stir as the robotic arm bathes and redresses him before picking him up to refresh the bedding and then tucking him in.
Mary watches Dr. Grace sleep peacefully, dreamless, for the first time in weeks. While Mary watches, Armando tidies the room, moving soiled clothing and bedding to the wash. When the contaminated materials are cleaned Armando folds everything neatly and sets it all aside before disposing of the trash and completing its self maintenance before going into standby mode while Dr. Grace sleeps. Leaving only Mary to watch over everything.
I wake with dry mouth, my tongue feeling fuzzy behind my lips, and a dull head to toe ache. I groan as I push myself up and swing my legs over the side of the bed.
<Good morning, Dr. Grace.> Mary greets in her cool, calm tone.
"G'morning, Mary." I mumble in response and am pleased when Armando presses a warm packet of coffee into him hands.
I take the coffee with a grateful hum, "Thank you, Armando."
The coffee is warm and soothing and just what I need to clear away the brain fog of sleep that still clings to me. That's when I notice the room. It's been cleaned.
"Did you clean up after me?" I ask, turning an arched brow on Armando.
Dr. Grace goes about his morning routine like normal, shuffling to the cockpit to check that they are still on course- they are, and that the fuel tanks are still functioning properly- they are still operating normally with not detected anomalies. If Dr. Grace notices his gait is a little wobbly, he doesn't say anything as he slowly makes his way back to the dorm. Armando shoves a granola bar into his hands and Grace takes it reluctantly, before requesting the robot take a blood sample.
Armando obeys the instruction, ushering Grace to take a seat before maneuvering Grace to set his arm on a rest it's protruded from the inner casing of it's main body. It guides Grace into making a fist before wrapping the elastic band around his arm and sticks him with the needle before guiding Grace to relax his hand.
I take the blood sample to the lab and start the analysis, hunkering down at the computer with my coffee and granola bar as I wait for the results to arrive. Something just isn't right. My brain fog wont let up and my memory of the last 12 hours is muddled at best. My hypothesis is that it has something to do with the home brewed draft I crafted, but I need to be sure.
The computer screen flashes a new popup window, blocking out the window listing the specs of my home brewed booze that I was analyzing. I scroll through the newly arrived blood results, nothing looks out of the ordinary to me. But then again, I'm not that kind of doctor. I sigh as I sit back and frown at the screen, utterly puzzled.
"Mary, do you have a log of what happened over the last 12 hours?" I ask.
<Affirmative. Would Dr. Grace like to see the logs for the last 12 hours?> Mary answers crisply.
"Yes, please, Mary. If you could." I answer back in response.
<One moment please.> Mary replies and I sip my coffee as I wait for Mary to send the logs to the lab computer.