I Am Beautiful

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A gynoid with a past enjoys who she is.
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My name... is Karelienne. A complicated spelling, I know, but that's what I was named and I like it. It's me, it means me, always has meant me. Sounds better than those service number codes you usually hear in my type. I guess I'm rather different in a lot of ways.

You see... the thing is, I'm a combat gynoid. I'm organic, I'm pretty human, but I was built in a lab. Not grown - I'm not a clone, don't you dare think that - I was built in a laboratory, to kill. It's my entire purpose. My power core regains energy every time I kill someone, or I have to spent days plugged in with a USB port in the back of my skull. Before you say anything, no. I never found killing erotic. It never turned me on, never made me feel aroused. I felt... dead. It was always this weird numbness from killing, and I hated it. I still do, but I had to or I would be... decommissioned. So, I just sort of fell into routines. I fought because it apparently was my purpose. That changed quickly - my father died alongside me on a mission, and some stupid betrayal had my colleagues and my employers kill each other in one massive war. Maybe I shouldn't have picked sides with the people giving the orders - now they're all dead, all of my friends. That was a long time ago. Three thousand years to be precise.

Yes, I'm old, but then that's just another peculiar thing about me. I was built, remember? I never aged. I'm just as I was when I was born into a body far too mature for whom I should have been. Hey, the fun doesn't stop there. When shit went down, I died. I'll have to spare you the details again, and if you asked I couldn't tell you how I returned. I woke up in a hospital one day with someone I didn't know peering over me. Heh... that was a screwed up time; still had trust issues, almost killed him before he could explain himself.

He helped me ask myself the question I had always wanted the answer to. Why on earth was I built to fight? He showed me how wrong that conclusion was. He told me how beautiful I was. He told me... I couldn't have been built solely to kill... I was too perfect for that. To put it in simple terms... my body is dramatic. I'm tall to start with - six feet toe to head all told, my hair emerald green and falling loosely to my hips. That hair... never lost its shine. My nails are similar in that respect, the same vibrant shade of green and pointed, a legacy of my initial life. But that's not what you're interested in... are you? Not even amber eyes matter. You want to know what my body truly is like.

Well, I told you, it's dramatic. My breasts are full - the largest end of a KK cup at least, not perfectly spherical but round and with very little sag, even braless. That was the first clue I wasn't built for combat - they couldn't have been that effective in combat. I managed to work with them, but that's the way I was born. You can tell them from my stomach though - between my breasts and my hips the skin constricts, smooth and flowing, forgoing both fat and thin, settling somewhere in the middle with lush curves until you reach the second explosive part of my anatomy. My hips and thighs went the same way as my chest, hips flaring to form a pair of spheres as my buttocks, dropping to give way to thick thighs with only the faintest hint of a thigh gap, rapidly sloping away into slender legs and small feet. My arms are slender in their entirely from shoulder to hand, defying the rest of my body.

And guess what? I wasn't even built for sex! I discovered my friends loved me for my mind, who I was and not just what I was. I did start enjoying sex though... with those I cared about. It always made me feel alive. It let me forget my roots. I needed it, forever followed by most defining feature - silvery-grey skin. All across my skin it has the same silvery grey that they have come to love, my areolas and lower lips simply darker shades of the same. Only my mouth was ever a different colour, emerald once again. Oh, but sex still was something special for me. Rain on my skin, and sex. Two things that let me feel human. I suppose you could have called me a nymphomaniac, had I not cared who I was with.

When they were not available, I masturbated, and enjoyed it. I would like to show you just how much I loved it.

***

When I woke up, I knew there would be nothing to do for the day. My ear wasn't beeping, a sure sign that there were no alerts, or special assignments, or anything that would screw me over for the time being. Added I was still plugged in, charging - anything happened, I'd be awoken and disconnected almost immediately. Thank god, a calm day. With all the fighting, the revolution, the defence... hadn't been a day like this in months. This was the sort of day all to myself... and devoted to pleasure.

First thing's first.

"Morning guys." A chorus of cheery or sleepy greetings met me in return, a communications node in my ear taking my thoughts, converting them to sound and then transmitting them to the comm beads nestled in the ears of the other commanders. "Anything happening that I haven't been told about?" My voice was an alluring hiss, velvet and threatening or erotic with the slightest change in tone.

"Unless something's sneaking up on us, we're just in transit. We're all getting together later once we've settled the ship down into standard operating subroutines. You want to join in?" His reply came first, the only male voice amongst the seven of us in power. We all had this weird polynamic relationship going on - seven people all married together... if that's right. Stupid forty-first millennium union rules. It gave us a lot of freedom, you know. That guy was the only straight one amongst us - the rest, myself included, were pretty much either bisexual or not interested at all. Then... sexuality never meant much to me in the first place. With no proper reproductive organs and hence no chance of ever having children, it all came down to who I was most comfortable with, and these people made me feel special. I got to be with them because they loved me and I loved them in return.

"Maybe, if it's later. I want today to myself." I smiled as I rolled onto my other side, feeling my areolas rub against the sheets and send shivers through my spine. Oh... they were sensitive.

"No distractions?" He knew my intentions - he always knew.

"No distractions." The connection closed before anyone could offer a reply, whether or a witty retort or offer to join in. I didn't want help today. In the utter silence my hands moved, gliding from rest to the smooth globes on my chest. I took my time with them, tracing nails from where they began up to the nipples, swirling lines round to tease myself over and over. Shivers rang in my skull and down my spine as I recalled how sensitive they truly were - I had brought myself to orgasm over and over before through them.

I wanted to again.

Drawing my fingers closed I gripped both nipples tightly, coughing with the sudden shock to the system, my back arching and mouth snapping open, such was the love coursing through them at this moment. And yet, I was not even close. My peak was yet to come.

Slowly relaxing my grip on my left breast I pulled against it, lifting it closer to my mouth until my lips could pucker round and fasten on the deep grey nub. I sucked and then bit down, the involuntary action sending my vaginal lips into spasm, already beyond any pleasure a human being could hope to feel. Straightening my body cool air washed over my feet, slipping from the sheets. The tingling contrasted well with the heat spreading throughout my upper body as I teased and pinched one breast with my right hand, the left nipple nibbled and sucked by my lips as my left arm fell to rubbing and pushing my left mammary. From there pleasure simply built and built, slowly losing control of each of my limbs. My legs began to twitch, my thighs grinding themselves together to work pleasure from my loins, the work of my hands becoming rougher and rougher the less capable I became.

I forgot about the rest of the world for precious moments with my peak only moments away, teasingly out of reach and sending violent shudders down my back. Orgasm hit suddenly, without warning, limbs arching me away from the bed and mouth snapping open, nipple dripping with saliva flying away as I forgot who I was. Ecstasy coursed through me as my body sought release, spraying juices from my pussy onto the mattress cover. I did not - would not -allow myself to relent. My free left hand roughly grabbed my nipple again and tugged in unison with the other, jets of passion fuelling the length of the orgasm. My juices continued to wet my thighs for a minute and growing, arms tugging and milking one continued stream of love from my sensitive globes.

It took me three gorgeous minutes to finally tell my body to stop, hands releasing their death-grip and slumping to the sides as I fell back to the bed, heaving and choking in equal measure on the afterglow.

That was only the beginning.

Before I had even fully recovered, my still-soaking pussy oversensitive and breasts throbbing from their treatment I began again, a different tact this time. Over this supple form I knew every single pleasure point to exploit, and I did so with abandon. My sides, my back, my stomach, breasts, legs and arms, all were home to dozens of points of pressure, when applied gently, to produce just the faintest touch of passion. As one hand drove down to my folds, to carefully tease away the worst of their sensitivity, my other hand set to exploring these points, pressing across them one by one until my entire body was buzzing beneath the skin. I simply repeated this process again and again over the course of half an hour, each time adding another layer of this throbbing heat to my form, a torturous, slow procedure that would ensure the peak was truly glorious. The beauty of this technique was that however high I built myself, I could not finish in the same way. Simple erotic massage was not enough and so it allowed me to build myself to the greatest peaks I could ever wish. Sadly my restraint was not enough... I was never able to push myself that far without succumbing to the mind-numbing cries of my loins.

When that moment came, when the passion burning below became too much to bear, I began the charge to the edge of the cliff. Three fingers at once drove themselves into my searing insides, rubbing against the G-spot, located through experience. Once again, my self-pleasure skyrocketed and I could not help myself from plunging them in over and over, hands and lips once again grasping desperately at my nipples if only to increase my happiness before it was over.

Pulling both nipples to my mouth I clamped over them both, tugging and sucking with my second hand turning to aid the first, rubbing over my clitoris. The first touch was all that was needed to throw me into the throes of another wild ride, hands pumping and teeth rubbing against the edges of the nipples. It may seem strange but this lasted yet longer, my frantic, almost violent spasms prolonging the moment for ten full minutes, juices spraying from within for the full duration. A puddle had formed on my bed and my loins were slick with lubrication by the time I stopped for the second time, exhausted and breathing heavily.

"Fucking hell... " I coughed out. I hadn't had time to give myself over so wholly to this for such a long time. "Karelienne, you've got to do this more often."

So... time for the coup de grace, the act that would take me to the early afternoon... the three hour orgasm. The idea was simple - get to that peak quickly, hit it, and stay there. After the previous two my body was prepared for the longest orgasm I had ever subjected it to, but for this I would need a little more.

Rolling to the side, legs slipping against the puddle of moisture soaking the sheets, I reached out for the bedside table, my presence sliding the drawers open. In the first two were personal effects, little bits and pieces. In the third was a vibrator, a foot long and about four inches wide, stubbed with rings off tiny black orbs and then bristling with even smaller bubbles. When activated every single one would shiver fast enough to knock someone out with the pleasure they could generate. It had no levels of power, only on or off. I held it a moment, rubbing my hands along its length to coat it in my sweet-smelling lubrication, then reached down and plunged it in, moaning for the first time as it sunk in to the end. Inside I constricted around it until I could feel every bump and bristle, but I did not turn it on, oh no. I was not ready. I reached for the third drawer again, this time bringing out a trio of small black ovals, each covered in the same sticky dark spheres as the vibrator. One by one I attached them to both my nipples and my clit, pausing with each to shudder with a miniature climax prompted by the heady afterglow of the previous two.

With all four devices attached I lay spread eagle on the bed, aching lips positioned directly over the damp patch, ready for the release. A neural signal, sent from my brain throughout each of the wireless devices, triggered.

The orgasm, the best climax I could feel, hit me harder than an orbital cannon.

Instantly, every single muscle in this busty hourglass frame went rigid with shock and pleasure, mouth opening to give voice to a scream that could only hope to explain the feelings that were scorching every nerve ending I had.

It was... beautiful. It was heaven, the only way to describe the three hours of passion that followed. For me there was nothing beyond my void and my breasts, and no feeling beyond the purest unadulterated passion and pleasure. I could feel nothing else and hear only my scream for that time, juices spraying out and around onto the bed, specks coating my legs to my feet and dripping to the floor from the end of the bed. It was stronger than an orgasm, like an orgasm every second, where each one was endless and added to the ones before it. My screams petered out with my willpower and my stamina, fading to a perpetual chorus of moans and pleading, muttering the name of whichever of my lovers came to mind first. This was how I imagined all of them to be together, should they all join for one night to give me this truest feeling of ecstasy.

The orgasm itself lasted for three hours as planned, but it did not end at that moment. It thrummed through my body with a will of its own even after the three ovals detached and rolled to the bed, the vibrator stopping of its own accord. It lasted even as I stood on shaking feet and stumbled to my shower, fumbling with the taps until hot water cascaded down from above. I washed a moment only, wiping the slickness from my inner things, before the motion had me aroused once again. I could not finish here. I leant forward against the shower wall, my breasts pressing into the tiles and sending their own shocks once again through my spine, one hand retreating to the vibrator, pumping it in and out of my slit as the other hand drove two fingers in, thrusting their own rhythm asynchronous to the artificial partner.

With water rushing down me, each a hand and microcosm of love itself, the orgasm once again peaked and I cried out, refusing to kneel or give in, pumping myself for all I was worth. My orgasm dragged itself out further, another hour, two, three again, my strength ebbing with each passing minute until I was sitting, my back against the screen door, hand still pumping and the rest of me twitching and jiggling with the orgasm I had prolonged for seven hours now.

He called me in the final moments. "We're going to get together at the pool. You coming or what?"

The thought alone could have sustained me the rest of the day. All of the other six, naked and there for the taking. As it was my hand refused to stop, sliding the bumpy tool in and out of me even as I answered, breathlessly. "Yeah... yeah... be right up." I had no strength for a reply and once again closed the link before he could answer, my fingers finally tired and slipping as I shoved it in as far as it could go, only the flattened end poking from my folds.

Inexorably slowly I stood, pushing the water off and staggering back out to my room, giggling like a fool. The top drawer this time - a thong bikini, stringy and as revealing as I could be for them. I pulled the dark green pieces on, resisting the micro orgasms that came as I slipped it over my twitching areolas and clitoris, unable to restrain from pausing each moment to admire my thighs in the mirror, still wet from my ministrations.

A smile still plastered on my face I turned to the door, pulling it open roughly and putting on my best face for the empty hallway. The pool was up top, glass-domed against the blackness of space, and with five naked or half-naked girls and one guy, all of whom I loved with all my heart. I set off to them, vibrator still buried deep within.

I turned it on as I walked.

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