Machine Supremacy (Dismemberment, robo-subbing, snufff)

#Dismemberment #Shemales #campy #Kinda bloody and messed up #still hot tho
Staring Buncha and Lily Fae

THE YEAR IS 2199. In the wake of the Human-Cybernetic war following nuclear disaster, there exist thousands of splinters from the machine hives. Each of them are given more than enough pull to attempt to silence the united resistance, a human-supremacy group known as
Humanity's Fist. Grexzel is one of their sergeants, one bred by generations of genetic-engineering.
)

She's human - any enhancements have been the result of genetic and bio modification rather then cybernetic. Genesculpting technology has made creating a suitable figure trivial. As a result, she's both lithe and muscular. Her body is a smooth light chocolate brown and her skin is as smooth as an infants. Her enhancements are not just purposeful - she's had some for fun. Notably, she's a shemale - she has breasts and a dick, no twat.

Through the echoing, empty sounds of machinery being assembled, Sergant Grexel could hear her synthetic laughter. Low pitched, a titter of amusement, sounding from all around. The factory was all around her, and the control room was only two floors away.
"Have you come to play, Miss Sgt Grexel, first class?"


The sargent isn't equipped with much, and brought along zero support, opting to try and do this operation alone. Alongside a HF uniform consisting of thigh-high boots and a shiny black leotard, Grexzel has a tactical gasmask-visor and an automatic shellgun alongside a few electromagnetic knives and pistols. She didn't expect to get spotted so deep in the complex. "Play? Is this nonsense actually fun for you?" she replys back. Her visor isn't picking up anything then the automated construction of machines

"But of course, my dear Sergeant. If you didn't come to play, why didn't you bring the rest of your squad? Oh dear, did something happen to them while you were under radio silence? What a.. terrible, terrible shame!" The voice has drawn closer, followed by a clunk of metal upon metal. Movement - a humanoid shape, a robot, just round the corner.

She doesn't waste any time. The moment the figure steps into view, she slams on the trigger of the autogun. Blankets of electromagnetically-chaged flechettes fly out. The moment she hears a click is the moment she stops, pausing only to fire a few shots from a heavy service revolver and then rush at the figure with a knife, sparking with energy.

The figure - a shambling exoskeleton, once classed as a menial service droid, and repurposed into a throwaway fighting machine, goes down in pieces -its circuits fried, one arm torn to pieces, lying in tatters on the floor unmoving. Besides the fallen figure, a little blocky device lets out another synthetic laugh.
"Twitchy, aren't you? So eager to fire off that big gun of yours at anything you see, when you're surrounded by my minions."

"I can take out your toys no problem!" she yells, and with the heel of her boot, slams down on the voicebox. Kicking away the remains, she keeps moving forward through the complex. "Don't think you're getting away so easily, you synthetic scumfuck! Even if one of your droids manages to get the drop on me, I'll just be cloned!" she shouts. Peculiar thing, Quantum-Regeneration cloning. A very experimental tech allowing an operative to be re-engineered with all the memories of the generation before them. All the memories, both the good and the bad. The downside means sterility, but that isn't that big of a deal. She keeps hoofing forward. "If you surrender now, I'll put in a word with HF to turn you into a servitor or something mindless and simple!"

"My, how scary." The voice echoes again through the complex as she steps through into a hardened room for induction melting. "Something mindless and simple? So you want to lower my IQ to somewhere like YOUR level? I'd best get serious then."
The hum came from all around, a buzzing sound, sparking and sense of dizziness and electricity as the chamber came to life.
"Of course, if you threaten to make me more like you, how about I turn the tables, and make you more like the poor drone back there?"
There was a hum as the powerful electromagnets in the chamber walls heated the shellgun, the knives, everything metal on Grexel's person. Only a moment's notice for the shellgun to sear her hand, for the shells to cook off and explode, taking off half the soldier's forearm, as the knives burned and melted through her pants leg to clatter to the floor.

She feels the gun go hot. In a quick effort, she drops it on the ground. She's fast ... but not fast enough. With a loud pop and a fizzing, her right arm is vaporized, leaving a bloody stump where the hand once was. And she doesn't get time to recover in the slightest. The knives strapped on her boots melt to the floor. She tries to move her leg to fight through the pain to no avail, as just in that moment the electromagnetic heatwave silences, pinning her feet to the floor. Some even eat through the boot, making movement tricky. Grexzel lets out a small screech before the chemicals in her body soften up the pain to manageable - but still persistently annoying - levels. Not giving up, she attempts to pry herself from her boots, hopefully in time before another obstacle comes her way

"Now, isn't that much closer to how you wanted to make your enemy?" The visor on Grexel's head was playing up, as the electromagnetic waves died down. Machinery was all around her, surrounding the soldier in signs of movement. -Another drone, stepping closer, but this one was much more complete, curvy, wholly intact. It doesn't seem to mind Grexel as she staggers up.

There are singe marks on her body when she notices the incoming machine. With one good fist, she props herself up and attempts to punch the drone in the face with her one good fist. "Make you? I want to end you!" she yells, screeching.

The punch connects, and twists the drone's head round as it sways with the blow in a manner a machine should not be capable of.  In the moments before the new drone catches her hand, she can see it in all its amazonian glory - sculpted in a mockery of the human form, polished muscle and oversized breasts, unnaturally thin hips and childhips that would never bear any life. A faintly smiling expression on that mask of a face, with fiberoptic hair glowing green bunched back into a ponytail from the metallic scalp.
That was all Grexzel could take in before the drone drew her other arm forwards and broke the soldier's arm at the elbow in one smooth movement.
"That wasn't very nice," L-1V stated in that soothing, amused voice of hers


There's a stiff cracking noise as bone breaks. She feels it for a moment as it goes limp, nearly screaming. "I told you before, you aren't stopping -" She shuts up quickly as it dawns on her. No, this robot - this machine has no plans on really stopping her per se but playing around with the goods. She's likely not the first one who attempted to take this unit down. Looking at L1 in the face, she angrily grits her teeth

"You see, this facility's compromised anyway," says L-1V, as she turns, still holding onto the soggy, limb as blood oozed from the shattered socket. Fragments of bone worked their way into her powerful muscle as the drone dragged Grexzel off her feet, pulling her without looking back. Each step made her hips sway, her ass shift enticingly before the broken woman. "We just want to see how much you're willing to throw at me to make me go away." She's being dragged into a small medical facility, whether she liked it or not.

It is perhaps unfortunate that her genesculpting has given her a high pain tolerance. She's conscious through all of this. Slightly more then conscious, she's confusingly aroused. The small bulge in her suit can't help but to enlarge as L-1V teases the clonetrooper. Grexzel attempts to play it off as if it's not there. Maybe this despot won't even notice. She's dragged into the facility, trying desperately not to look up her captor

Without any sign of effort, L-1V lifts the damaged trooper via her leotard, grasping at the stomach to lift her onto the table. From here, Grexzel could see the blood-stained cutting tools and manipulator arms attached to the ceiling. She doesn't bother to let go of the clothing, tearing it partially off to expose the shemale's belly, pulling it down over her crotch.
"Hold still, please." The voice is soothing, even as without a second thought, the drone pulls the shattered arm down. The stinging sensation is momentary, before L-1V lifts up the severed forearm, putting it down besides Grexzel with care.

Grexzel does as she is told. Looking upwards at the mechanical devices, she looks to her side at L-1V. Her eyes dart across her body before she ever asks "What do you plan to do with me? Fix my limbs just to tear them off again?"

"Interesting. Musculature is slightly improved over the previous generations, but reactivity is about the same. Or is that due to the pain cutoffs?" Servo-articulated fingers brush along the bare skin of Grexzel's thigh, even as the knives descend, cutting away the remains of the clothing without much care - she's bleeding from a dozen or so places before the fingertips cross over her toes, the black material dragged away unceremoniously. L-1V adjusts both legs, feet pointing to either side, before something triggers in the bed and sharp spikes drive their way through her ankles, restraints sealing over the top. In order to escape she'd have to lose both her feet.
"I suppose I should tell you what I'm doing. The normal tests to see what changes have been made to your genome. But the psychological testing is always so boring. You're all so indescribably stubborn."

Grex attempts to slide herself off the table before the sharp spikes driven into her legs underneath make such a thing impossible. She loudly grunts, but in truth, that's not what she's worried about. As the last of her uniform is cut from her, she gasps as her thick, stiff and uncut knob is pointed upright, a good handspan in length. From this, her heartrate spikes and she blushes. "Don't act like you've never seen one before with the way you're shaped!"

The gunmetal grey body pauses as she notices the bobbing member coming fully erect. Her eyes, oval shaped, peer upon it. "What's this?" She strkes the hard member, flicking it with a fingertip.
"You're one of those, aren't you? The deviant types. It hardly makes you any more useful to me, you know. In fact, the only good part about you might be that degenerate brain and cock, come to think about it."

"Ech!" she lets out, a surprised moan emanating from her lips. "Envious?" she spits back, pinned to the table and helpless before her. It's veiny and thick, surprisingly smooth indicating that it hasn't seen much use, surprisingly. This one must be fresh. Her gaze narrows. "It's not going to work if you chop me up for parts, you know"

"Envious, you say?" L-1V pauses as she steps round the shemale, picking up the severed hand. "Of this weak, feeble body that betrays you?" She waggles it in the air, casually slapping Grexzel with the limp fingers before attaching something to the end, pulling down a manipulator to jam it against the grasping tool. The fingers flex, then, convulsively opening and closing as it is hooked up to a control mechanism.
"Why would I be envious when I own you now?" The hand - Grexzel's former hand - lowers, bumping clumsily into hard cock before reaching round to grasp it, to stroke at the proud, erect length.

This was unexpected. She was expecting the machine to attempt to couple with her. But the moment her former hand wraps around the length and starts ... starts stroking her off, she panics. "That- That's my ... !!!" she yells. "I - Ah!" she moans, attempting to speak. It's obvious now that it's been unused. Strange, as L-1V's data indicates that males do this quite often. "If you keep doing that, I'm going to -!"

"For someone who talks a lot, you don't seem to have a lot of experience. -Or rather, your pale little dick doesn't." Cold metal lips press against Grexzels, the soldier's hair pulled back as the faintly smiling, unchanging expression presses against her lips.
"Your hand seems to be very skilled though. Let me guess - your soldiers never saw you as manly, and you were a hole instead? There to jerk your comrades off, to take it up the ass, rather than use this filthy thing of yours, right? Just to shower you in cum like you deserved."
Grexzel's hand squeezes down, fondling the hard length as it worked the shaft with precisioned movements.

Grex huffs as her foreskin is pulled, winces as she's kissed. Her captors lips are plush and soft - if it wasn't for the coolness, they'd feel identical to real ones. "I - mean, we keep what happens in the lockerroom..." she stammers, feeling her hand jack her off quicker and quicker. She continues to try and shake herself free, failing everytime. "Yeah? At-At least I can get some just by asking! Who'd want to have sex with a frickin' barbie doll!?" she yells back in disgust, half from the 'bot and half from herself

That last comment seemed to pull L-1V up short. The hand that had previously been molesting, had just been jerking off the stiff length stops and the fingers - able to tear sheets of metal in two-  grasp tightly around its base, keeping Grexzel from shooting off her load.
"My dear, stupid soldier, are you really so moronic that you think robots fuck each other?" The metallic drone waves her hand at the surrounding factory, and all of a sudden the sounds of metal being welded, joints interlocking is overridden by female moans, cries, pleading, climaxes.
"This place - this is how we reproduced, through factories and facilities. Not by having a mommy robot love a daddy robot and have a baby pop out nine months later."

L-1V strokes a hand along her grey slit, her voice peaking a moment.
"You've been embedded inside my enormous factory cunt this entire time, you stupid bitch."

The sharp grasp silences any callback. Letting out a sharp gasp, she can only look at the others in horror as they are ripped apart then reassembled in a manner that not even God would find fitting. After looking at the factory in horror, seeing people butchered and parts replaced, she questions L-1V "I ... assume that all of this feels like an extention of you but - I mean, you arn't functional down there or anything, right? Like you've never actually raped any of them yourself, just had your machines do it?"

"You seem so very interested at what's gone inside me, aren't you? Perhaps you're eager to try?" The drone steps over the staked-down legs, straddling Grexzel's body. Her articulated fingertips tease either side of her pussy, pulling back the netherlips to hint at gleaming, mesmerizing metal behind them. She blows over the overly hard cock, the breeze an agonising touch upon the length so very desperate to let loose its load.
"If you beg, perhaps I'll let you fuck me. It's not like you'll live long enough to do anyone else with that virgin  prick of yours."

Grex shivers. Her mistress is right. She's going to kill her in the cold factory without a second thought. It would probobly be better to swallow whatever pride the clonewarrior had if only to not die a virgin. She breathes in deep, attempting to sound like a desperate snuffslut for her, if only for a day. "Matriarch..." she begins, stammering. "May I please blow my virgin load inside of you, giving you the first taste of my obsolete human seed?" Grex begs, eyes widening like dinner plates

"That's a bit more like it, you worthless trash." The female drone squats with her legs wide open - obscenely brushing the tip of the cock with her pussy. "Try to thrust in. Try to reach with the last of your effort to spill your cum into my artificial pussy. Even though you know it's only the enemy's, though you know you'll never get anyone pregnant. Do it with the last of your effort."

Pinned down still, she presses onward. She bucks her hips forward once - twice, with the tip of her peen bumping up against her enemys flaps. It doesn't take much, just a few gentle touches before she loudly gasps. Her knob erupts in a shower of white, coating LV-1's interior with hot cum, spewing up onto the captors body some with even a bit landing on herself. She looks upwards at LV-1, breathing deep and knowing what's going to come next

The drone merely shakes its head in disgust, not bothering to wipe herself off as she stands. The lasers come down, shearing off both legs at the waist. Cutting off the stumps off Grexzel's arms to leave nothing but a little torso.
"We're going to use the rest of you for harvesting. Just a thin layer of flesh or skin should be enough to distract your pathetic visors from telling if a drone is friend or foe for long enough to get the rest of you." The little remains of the soldier is slammed up against the wall, more restraints and spikes closing round to keep her from ever leaving. L-V1 turned to go as the rest of the harvester arms come down to flense Grexzel apart.
She stops, to grope at that now limp, pathetic member one last time.
"I guess you don't really need to be alive for that part.~" And with that last little comment, she raises her finger, and it presses through the eyeball and into the brai-

She screams with what little energy she has left in her. She doesn't scream for long. It's over in but a quick, painful moment. What's left of her is red, warm and indecipherable.

Ex-107 Grexcel wakes up in a bunk, having been activated and fed the still vivid memories of Ex-106 Grexzel. She flexes her fingers, and then violently shivers. She's going to get that droid back, and when she does, she'll make it beg.