Wwt The Prototype

"It does not seem adequate," the girl said, inspecting the cracks in her plating.

Dr. Morrison sighed, he'd explained this to the aliens time and again. Though their technological insight had provided the breakthrough necessary for his work, there were so many basic concepts the creatures struggled to understand.

"This is a prototype," Morrison repeated. "We will attach the rest of the organic matter once we have tested the basic frame. Please try flexing your fingers.

The girl looked at her hands, moving each finger dutiful, her eyes inspecting the digit for the first time.

And even though she was artificial, Dr. Morrison could not control his own arousal to the naked blonde in front of her, even incomplete. The foundation was all there, the curves of her breasts bare, dark lines connecting the flesh-colored plastic plates that formed the large orbs. In the middle, where the nipples would be attached, were two black circles.

It reminded him of a breast augmentation surgery, when the doctor draws on lines with a marker, only these lines were structural. The building blocks of a human clicked and snapped together like Lego bricks until this manufactured Barbie came to life.

Flexing her fingers in front of him, controlled by one of these aliens.

Dr. Morrison could have cared less about the implications to the human race. What were they compared to the thrill of scientific discovery? Here was life, standing stark and new, his own impossible dreams realized in the glow of the augment Lithium battery above her breasts.

They continued the tests, the girl responding to a series of reflex tests. The results were mixed, less convincing than he anticipated, but there was no scientific reason for the lag in each command.

The alien was simply unused to this new form.

Dr. Morrison sensed the creature's disappointment.

"Bipedal locomotion will take getting used to," Dr. Morrison said. "It took the homo genus a few million years."

"We do not have a million years," the girl said stonily.

And from her tone, Morrison wondered if these entities took his joke seriously.

Could they really live forever, substituting one organic material for another?

There was one final test. From the effort and expense put into designing her vagina, Dr. Morrison knew the creatures' sexual intentions. Unlike the rest of her body, both holes were finished products, indecipherable to real flesh.

The girl sat on the examination chair, spreading her legs. Dr. Morrison gulped down a lump, forcing himself to awkwardly stare inside her vagina as those long, slender legs spread. She tried to open the plate in her wrist, and struggled, needing more dexterity than had been practiced.

He helped her, jumping back at the first tentacle sprang out from the base between her unhinged wrist and palm.

Morrision had never gotten used to those things.

He knew the alien's organic material had been stuffed into this model, like a soft skeleton running inside of the outer layer of humanity. As the director of the Caltech project, he was privy to the various different designs, many of which were still in the early stages of development. This model was rudimentary, basic, and he had deduced without daring to ask that many of the aliens struggled controlling anything other than the organic material they were accustomed to inhabiting.

He had seen a few of them, slithery, slippery, phallic-shaped tentacle creatures, none quite as small as the thing swimming inside of the amniotic fluid coursing through the female shell. And if it wasn't for the black cracks and the plastic skin, he could have forgotten the girl was a forgery.

Even as she moved her open wrist down, letting several strands of tentacles reach down and begin circling her clit.

The girl held her hand over her sex, almost like she was masturbating without actually making contact with her flesh. The bulbous heads of nearly a dozen different tentacles slipped one by one into her pussy, spreading out her virginal hole with each tiny insertion.

Somehow the different bulbs managed to fit inside of her pussy without becoming tangled inside of her, the alien much more comfortable manipulating its usual form. Her wrist obscured part of the few, but Morrision could still see how wide her lips parted as each of the miniature pricks pushed deeper inside of with the flick of her wrist.

He imagined them inside of her, tickling and caressing hidden folds inside of her canal with expertise only known to an individual acting on themselves. A dozen different heads, each no bigger than a garden snake, spread her open like a fist. And he wondered if her wrist hadn't blocked the view if he could have seen a large protruding bump as the tentacles fucked her.

Morrison could feel the hard-on pressing up against his pants, adjusting himself as he sheepishly remembered his task. He looked at the tablet, reading the biometrics. Her face remained frozen, but every other reading indicated an orgasm.

She blinked, cocking her head quickly to the side, before returning to the same vacant expression.

She drove the heads from her tentacle hand further inside of her, working them in and around faster, her eyes blinking again in a muted demonstration of another orgasm.

"This is adequate," the girl said.

Did he imagine it, or was there some extra labor in her voice?

Either way, she did not stop, the tentacles flourishing inside of her as they reached their own finale. The girl adjusted, spreading her legs even wider and Dr. Morrison could see the drippings of white cum brimming out of her pussy as each tentacle ejaculated, filling her eager cunt with its insatiable seed.

One by one, the flaccid drooping tentacles withdrew, until the last finally slipped easily out, a large gushing puddled of semen seeping down into the seat where the robot girl still sat. She pushed her legs together, hiding her pussy from Morrison as the tentacles withdrew back into her wrist.

Later that night, Dr. Morrison found himself unable to concentrate as he worked with the data. Cock in hand, he pulled up the video log, watching the girl fuck herself again.