Wendy Mother's Day

>”Happy Mother’s Day Mom!”
>*Mom*
>Wendy shook in place, a little cry fighting to escape out of her struggling voice synthesizer
>Her pseudolung spasmed in time with her stuttering, the right words coming out as little, breathy squees
>”...Thank you,” she whispered, the two finally agreeing, “Aww… c’mere!
>She roped Nora and Bishop toward herself, motors pulling her arms tight around the wiggling pair
>Worming their own arms up they held her back, swinging slowly in the kitchen
>”Oh! One last thing,” Mark remembered, shimmying out of Wendy’s arms
>Retreating to the kitchen counter he reached up to pop one of the cupboards open, nabbing a concealed little box
>”Nora picked them out,” he smiled, “but I hid ‘em. Here.”
>Wendy took the small velvet box in hand- old, recycled, but welling with affection
>It was like a hot stone in her hands, balanced in her narrow fingers as she stared at its fuzzy exterior
>Popping it open a pair of bright red beads stared back at her, flush and glossy and sporting little lightning bolts beneath them
>”They’re earrings Mom!”
>”O-Oh! Wow, this is-”
>”They clip on, too! Here,” Nora fussed, nabbing one from the box
>Gently she raised it to her mother’s ear, the flat metal plate buzzing with silent energy as the earring clipped into place with a quiet snap
>”Ope!”
>Wendy shivered at the sensation, the nickel metal silently fuzzying with the magnet on her left temple, her hand bringing the second to her right
>She swished her head slightly, the dangling lightning bolts swaying freely
>”How do I look?”
>”Beautiful honey.”
>”Cuuuute!” Nora bounded up and squeezed Wendy again, pulling herself tight into Wendy's new, mumbelievably warm sweater. “Happy Mother’s Day!”
>Wendy melted under the assault, wrapping up Nora in another hug as Mark grinned at her
>The new electromagnetic play on her head forced a blush, her head light and swimming in the glory of it, the warmth and heat in her core nestling her head into the crook of Nora’s shoulder
>”I love you all so much,” she sniffed. “So much.”

>A loud knock shot Mark’s head up from fiddling with the VCR
>”Coming!”
>Mark shuffled out of the living room, a small wad of cash in hand as he fetched the piping pie from beyond their front door
>”Pizza’s here!”
>Nora hopped out of the living room and straight to the kitchen, steaming slices slapped onto a plate
>”Any luck, Dee?”
>”Yep, got it,” she warbled, numb hands nervously wiggling for sensation. “Ready when you are!”
>She shivered underneath her sweater, tugging at her new earrings as she returned to the couch
>Mark and Nora piled beside her, the familiar scent and dimmed lights comfortingly *normal*, idyllic- movie night
>Clicking the machine to play it whirred to life, a federal warning and handful of anti-piracy ads preceding their feature presentation
>In the outskirts of Chicago a little drama unfolded in the life of an average teenager
>Her sister was getting married just a day after her sixteenth birthday and the occasion forced her out of her room and out of the thoughts of her family
>Wendy frowned at the negligence, the sheer, hectic disrespect *and* grandparents **and** an exchange student flipping her life upside down
>Not to mention the pursuit of some lowly nerd and his gang while she was invisible to the boy she was pining after
>Nora yawned, wholly uninterested in the spectacle, as Mark and Wendy watched on
>The gentle pulse of her breath pulled Mark's head to the side, his sleeping daughter leaning into him on the couch
>”One sec, gonna take Nora to bed.”
>”O-Oh, okay!”
>Mark put a silent finger to his mouth, hefting Nora in his arms and tucking her in
>Wendy panted quietly, her head throbbing and entire body feverishly warm
>The play of the small magnets on her head, pulling an electron free here or there, swallowed her core in a lapping, tidal tugging
>She felt herself slacken, the authority of her electric nerves over her body diminishing and loosening, judgement weakening as she watched the adolescent antics on the screen
>A little chirp rang in her head as their protagonist slipped out of her underwear and surrendered them to that snivelling geek
>Cheeks flushing red and volcanically angry she spotted Mark slip back in
>”Miss anything big?”
>”O-Oh,” her voice caught again in her throat. “N-No…”
>”Make some room,” he chuckled
>Squeezing in tight by the end table he pulled Wendy underneath his arm- just like *other* movie nights together she settled into his shoulder
>She stilled her swaying, unkempt mind, timing her thoughts to the heave of his and her own breathing
>It worked, for a bit- focusing on the movie distracted her from that building magnetic interference in her head and the slack, weighted comfort consuming her limbs
>As the movie drew to a close it was too much for her, though, the heavy sway of her arms arrested stone still as they crept around Mark’s back
>Her speech processing, unknown to her, was in tatters, and her eyes blinked in vain for focus
>Every instinct told her she was breaking, systems decomposing like so much green, tarnished copper
>But as she looped her right hand around Mark’s broad waist and over his warm skin, the man not noticing as the credits bounced in his blinking eyes, she knew she wanted to share this feeling with him
>To share that weight squeezing in her core between the two, to let it flow over and across and throughout them
>Wendy’s left hand tiptoed up her thigh and over the coarse denim covering them, the rear of her thumb brushing past the plush wool of her new sweater
>The fingers crept from one pair of jeans to the other, warmer pair
>”Oh! Hi there,” Mark whispered, pulling Wendy tighter
>She bristled at the gesture- no interfering, skipper
>The probing hand made its way around the lip of his jeans, down past the elastic waistband and deeper still
>Mark’s breath caught in his throat, her hand in an embarrassingly new place
>She leaned in, the frill of her soft, synthetic hair tickling his ear before she leant over to whisper into it
>”Stay still.” Her breath was hot and dry, whirling around his head as her hand plumbed lower and onto his stiffening c*ck, Mark pulling his arms above his head as he tried to steady his breathing. “You like that,” Wendy slurred
>”Wendy, your voice-”
>”Shush! Lemme toush you…”
>She wiggled her hand back out and unbuttoned his pants- it was past the point of no return now, the palpitation of her panting lung guiding the zipper in her hand down
>”Wendy…,” Mark mumbled, “Are- Are you sure?”
>He shot a cautious hand down to stop the drop of the zipper, not ready for whatever ‘this’ was, whatever Wendy was feeling
>Turning his head he scooched backwards on the couch, smiling nervously, Wendy’s eyes and cheeks burning low and hot beneath her bobbed hair
>”Ski-hipper,” she whispered, pawing her way towards him, eyeing his rigid member as it pressed against his underwear. “Le-het me h-elp you.”
>She crawled forward, his hands clammy, anxious as she loomed overtop him
>Prebuilt restrictions on her strength faded beneath the little tingle at her ears, swinging yellow lightning motifs catching the dim street-light in the dark family room, zapping in his dilating eyes
>Strength reserved for emergency situations only was now loosed, Wendy pinning a deeply confused Mark underneath herself
>One hand pressed hard into his aching sternum, Mark’s breaths quickening in nervous pace as her off hand lingered down again
>She pulled out his erect p*nis, cooing in delight as she grasped it tightly- too tight as Mark cried out, Wendy’s hand snapping away in fear
>”D-Did I hurt you,” she fumbled, a snap of realization setting in as she swung her head around the room. “Mark?”
>Willing, or throbbing, now, compliance was the only way
>”I-I’m okay, Dee, just- just be gentle…”
>He resigned himself to his fate, face reddening as her lithe fingers wrapped gently around his pulsing rod
>Mark gasped under the assault, each breath more ragged as she j*rked him off
>”Ma-hark,” she hiccuped again, returning to her red-faced stupor, “Kha’mere…”
>Wendy slid her body forward until they were face to face, the squeezing in his chest gone as she stared into his eyes
>She came in slow, silicone rubber lips locking with his own, deep, moaning kisses exchanged between the two
>A spark in her episodic memory reminded her of his messy oral assault *that* time, a little spark of anger pushing her to pump harder with her hand, to force the lolling muscle of her tongue deeper in his mouth
>Muffled groans from him failed to stop her, a little recompense for his past slip-ups was due
>Today he was exceptionally good, though, a little peep for mercy fighting through her arms as she slowed down
>She pulled her sopping mouth away, thoroughly lubricated for his just reward
>He reached out, free again, to stop her, slow her, anything but she batted his arms away, determined as she shimmied backwards on the couch
>She dropped her head low to his groin, the rigid, velvet surface of her tongue running up the shivering length of his shaft
>His thighs tensed in response, gently bucking his hips into Wendy’s head and forcing himself into her mouth
>She peeped in sultry surprise, brushing her messied hair back as she took him deeper into her mouth, stroking a hand along his length
>Mark nervously arched his back, balling his fists at his side lest Wendy lash a hand out and smack them away
>The man tried desperately to focus on his breathing, the immaculate sensation on his c*ck too much
>Wendy swirled her tongue around his head and pulled a shaking moan from his throat
>”Ge-hetting close, ski-hipper…?”
>Her slurred words sloshed in her sloppy mouth, head dropping again before Mark could offer her a coherent answer
>The pulse underneath her fingers told her it was coming, an unsteady hand slipping underneath the waistband of her jeans to crease a finger in the humming joint underneath, her hips jumping in surprise at the electric sensation
>Wendy kept the pressure up, Mark melting underneath her mouth as she continued
>There was a tremor, his p*nis throbbing again and his hands lingering up
>She was too focused on the load he was releasing into her mouth to raise a commanding hand, the touch of her fingers on her hip joint too much as Mark released
>”Oh… Oh God,” Mark panted, hands drifting up to pull Wendy’s head lower
>His hands on her temples he pulled her down, finishing deep in her throat as he muttered a million “I love you”s
>Thumbs rubbing past her nickel-mesh ears he dropped the earrings an inch, Wendy’s muffled moans peaking higher as her hand shook where it was pinned underneath her jeans
>”Sh-Shoot, sorry…” Mark steadied his breathing in the afterglow, trying to fix the earrings with his sweaty hands. “Aw, damn it.”
>They dropped uselessly into the cracks of the couch, something to pick out for later
>”Oh… Oh my…,” Wendy warbled, picking her head off of Mark’s c*ck. “Oh gosh… Mark, I-”
>”W-Wendy, are you okay?”
>”Heavens… I feel a lot better now…”
>About to put a hand to her head she froze, the thick ropes of spit and s*men stringing across staring sickly back at her
>Shamefully she pulled the other offending hand from her pants and felt at her ears
>”Much better,” she clarified, frowning. “Things got a little… out of hand, didn’t they…”
>”No, no, no,” Mark cooed, shimmying back into his pants. “That was great! Though I think the earrings-”
>Wendy clutched her blushing face and bent forward, sending a glop of s*men down to her lap
>”Oh…,” she groaned
>”Yeah… yeah. Let’s get cleaned up, okay?”
>”...Okay.”
>Mark buttoning his pants the pair retreated to their room, door snipping shut silently behind them

>”I think it’s just my jeans, Mark,” Wendy breathed as he picked the sweater over her head
>A shimmer of lamplight caught on the knit lettering and dense wool cuffs and turtleneck, mercifully clean as Wendy sighed in relief
>”Alright, pants now.”
>Mark gently undid her narrow belt and slipped her jeans down, the fire in her cheeks stoked as she peeped in surprise
>”Good?”
>”...A little.”
>The temptation to reach out as he stared directly into her pelvic assembly was insurmountable, the light quiver of the hip stators humming in the room pulling Mark in
>”M-Mark!”
>His hands ran over the smooth casings, Wendy gasping in response as he threw a thumb underneath the band of her deep blue Sterling underwear
>Rolling them down an inch he helped her step out of her jeans, cupping the joints still
>”I’ll make sure to put those in the laundry- ow!"
>Wendy took her hand and bopped him on the head, a little
>”Mark,” Wendy huffed, “up here’s the… the *mess*.”
>She dropped her head, ashamed as she pointed to her throat and carefully shut mouth
>”Oh… yeah, sorry…”
>Mark pulled her briefs back up and gingerly took her clean hand behind him, guiding her to the small private bathroom past the bed
>”L-Lemme wash up first…”
>Plunging her hands into the steaming water she scrubbed them clean, a touch of floral soap squished through them
>Mark was behind her, stooping low to the cabinet and shoveling out the handful of tools he knew he’d need
>Squinting he threw them back in- this wasn’t maintenance, this was *cleaning*
>He shook his head at the shame of it, Wendy still drying her hands above him
>”...Dee?”
>”...Mhm?”
>”This is gonna be a bit involved,” Mark sighed, remembering the Sterling manual’s instructions for such occasions. “...Have a seat.”
>He cringed at the image, protocols meant for an errant spoonful of ice cream or pudding perhaps coming to mind as he grabbed a little cup and washcloth
>Wendy took a seat on the little bathroom stool in front of Mark, his sorry eyes meeting hers, jumping away from them
>”Sorry…”
>Detaching the little latches on her clinking chestplates she removed her gently curved chest assembly, setting the plates to wobble on the floor
>He stared at the shivering shrink and grow of the pseudolung in front of him, the little plastic bag already collecting his shame inside
>The connection to her throat and mouth made it simple enough, Mark filling a cup before popping back up
>”Alright Dee, I need you to-”
>”I-I’ve got it,” she resigned, taking the cup in hand
>Swishing the warm water in her mouth she rocked her head back, letting it slip down to her sagging lung
>It was awful and uncomfortable, the weight in her chest telling her something was terribly amiss, that she needed help immediately
>The sucking mass in her chest, pneumonically full of fluid, was less than agreeable as it pulled down at her head, threatening to pull her whole neck down into her body
>She waved the thought away, careful not to flex the lung anymore
>At least she was clean, thank God
>”Good?”
>She nodded, Mark reaching in to snip a valve shut and remove the cloudy plastic bag
>He recoiled at it, dumping its contents in the sink and furiously rinsing it clean
>Whipping it in his hands Wendy twisted her head away at the sight, the instrument slapping limp against his wrist
>”Can you… not do that?”
>Her voice was half formed, lacking the breathy squeak to make it truly human-analogous
>She pulled a hand up to shield her eyes
>Mark eyed the limp organ in his hands, deflated like the soap bag from a public restroom
>”Right, right! Sorry…”
>He gently threaded it back in, the release of a valve swelling it with air again
>”Ah…”
>”Better?”
>”Better,” she breathed, a few stark breaths flushing the rest of the water out
>As Wendy clipped her plates back in she yelped in shock, dropping one of the composite sections to the ground with a clap
>Mark had stripped his shirt off and was undoing his pants, Wendy flushing in response
>”Mark, I- I didn’t know you wanted to go again, but-”
>”Oh, I’m just gonna take a shower,” he chuckled
>"I'll go get ready for bed, then," she smiled weakly
>Wendy drooped her head, collecting up her pieces and scuttling out of the bathroom to reserve him some privacy
>Sitting on the edge of the bed she watched the bathroom light skirt underneath the door, the roar of the faucet singing through it
>With a few more clicks the adjoining plates flexed and bowed together, Wendy instinctively stretching to work them in unison
>Her little episode hung over her, a tinny whistling filling her head in the absence of the eruptive white noise from the magnets as her mind strayed
>Strayed a bit too much, she chastised herself, holding her pearlescent hands in front of her
>The beam of light from the bathroom caught on them, sweeping through her fingers and onto her naked body
>A new itch in her said she wasn’t done, the lime-green numbers on the clock saying Mother’s Day wasn’t either
>She stared at the simmering beam of light underneath the door, still and silent where carpet gave way to frigid, ceramic tile
>The door was silent as she pressed it open, the roar of the shower drowning her sneaking entry
>Dispensing with the deep blue pair of panties on the sink counter she filled her lung, the little change in pressure clearing her head, focusing her thoughts
>She wanted more, and she was going to take it she decided, stalking up behind the heavy curtain and edging it backwards
>”Huh- WOAH,” Mark jumped, bumping the faucet just a touch. “AH, AH, HOT!”
>His hand fumbled on the metal handle and cranked it down, the man panting in surprise as Wendy pulled back, clutching her mouth in shock
>”Sorry, sorry, sorry,” she ran, her words trembling behind her fingers, “Are you-”
>”I'm- I’m okay, just- just don’t sneak in like that.”
>”...M-May I?”
>Mark fanned the curtain back, opening the shower to her
>At once she joined him in its warm, comforting embrace, electromotor nerves across her hard surface telling her subconsciously- “You are wet, you are warm, you are wet, you are warm” over and over
>Wet and warm- she swallowed her thoughts, the soaring sensation rushing over her synthetic surface
>The spray of the water, hard and heavy how Mark liked it, bent and refracted in the nooks of her plating, bouncing up in little broken droplets as she soaked in the heat
>”So… Coming in to wash up, or-”
>’Or’, absolutely ‘or’, her mind commanded
>She pressed backwards into the nude man, a little peep of surprise bubbling up from behind her
>The press of her curvaceous joints surprised him, hands subtly adjusting himself behind her
>He scooted back a few more inches, afraid of the tight pinch-spots now edging their way around his fingers
>”Uh, Dee,” he started, “wh-what do you want me to-”
>”*Maintain* me Mark!”
>Mark’s eyes shot wide, open, awake- maintenance was one thing, sure, but this was a desire she’d never been so forward with before
>Maybe those earrings had been doing a little more havoc with her head, the man worriedly retreating his hands as he considered it
>”Ma~ark,” she sang, backing up again. Water pounded off her back as she bent over. “I know you want this too…”
>He did, hands stiffening with resolve as he grabbed Wendy around her waist
>In a fluid motion he pulled her up and out of the drowning stream of the showerhead and into his arms, cradling her above his own hips
>A stable arm wrapped around her and kept her aloft, Wendy giggling in surprise
>With his left securely around her and holding the light robot suspended, he forged ahead with his right, hand running across the sonorously smooth joints and junctions around her body
>A thumb could glide over the joining between her arm sheaths and the shoulder and elbow joints and she’d moan in response, legs picking up and curling
>Her own arms ached for something to do, to grab, fingers finally linking together behind Mark’s neck as she pulled herself back into him, supporting herself on his broad neck
>The narrow band around her left ring finger hugged into his neck, a little home comfort of the pair and a reminder of how much he loved the *woman* panting in his arms
>Panting as he curved a hand over the short, T-shaped plate covering her pelvis and unlatched it
>”M-Mark, no-”
>He shushed her, spinning the pair around so he could shield her delicate machinery from the water
>”I would *never* let you get hurt,” he whispered into her ear
>The plate fell away to the bottom of the tub with a hollow clack, mark shaking his wet hand before going in
>Nandroids may be waterproof, he knew, but any large amount of water would pose trouble beyond what could be fixed by themselves
>Wendy insisted on doing everything of theirs at home from now on and Mark doggedly agreed, the fury and passion stoked by that evil, menacingly blue envelope reason enough to hold her tighter and, when it was required, keep his hands dry
>Dry, as he ran over the pelvic motor junction, the little squarish box that routed power and maintained proper ambient conditions in the empty space underneath the front hip plate
>The nerve center of her two hip joints tittered in delight at his touch, heavy fingers gently brushing their way around the compartment
>Deeper he pressed towards the socket where the underlying struts linked with her ball joints, a pinky squeezing its way in to tease the sensitive structure beneath
>Wendy gasped in return, moist hair clinging to her forehead and temples as she leaned back over Mark’s shoulder
>He craned his head to her ear, asking if she was alright
>Words escaped her, the silent echoing of her breath inside her the only noise she could focus on as his fingers plumbed deeper and harder across her sensitive insides
>She simply nodded, breath squeezing from her mouth in shuddering little gasps, and twisted her head to meet his
>Their wet lips locked, rivulets of water running down his short hair and across their faces
>She squeezed her fogging eyes shut and focused on the intense pleasure of it, slackening her hold on herself
>Her last tie was the little chain she’d formed behind Mark’s neck to keep herself upright, grip loosening as water wormed its way between her fingers and Mark rooted his own around her hip joints
>The complex sensory feedback system inside her was increasingly overwhelmed
>Wendy was trying desperately to center herself, to focus on the robotic inhale and exhale of her false lung as it timed out each longing stroke from Mark’s fingers
>Failing that she released herself, melting into the stream of pleasure that pattered over her head and through her hair, running and dripping down her soaked body and lower, intruding into her nether regions as an alien hand, certainly not interested in ‘maintenance’, pounced and preyed on her vulnerable circuits
>Succumbing to the full-body rapture grabbing at her joints she let herself slip into the brief coma of *overload*, the Sterling-built response for over-reactive nandroids
>Meant normally as a hard reset should a nandroid be caught in a feedback loop it had the unfortunate side effect of being conspicuously enjoyable
>The already suspect emotional and mental response to touch for nandroids only compounded with it, Wendy’s eyes fluttering shut as her limbs and joints all gave way together

>”Woah there!”
>Mark jumped as the nandroid slacked forward, limp in his hands like some articulate mannequin
>Pulling her tight to his chest he hopped out of the shower, carrying her and laying her down on a spread towel
>”Wendy, Wendy,” he tapped, her shoulders loose as he shook her. “Oh God…”
>”Mmmm,” she grumbled, legs straightening out as every joint tensed and flexed together. “Mark?”
>”Oh thank God, that was-”
>”A first,” she purred back, sitting up on the towel. “But how nice…”
>”Was it the shower?”
>”Mmmyeah, I think so,” she yawned
>”Your battery’s getting low too…”
>”...Bedtime,” she giggled
>He looked himself up and down, Wendy shielding her hip-level eyes as soon as she opened them
>”...Let’s dry off, yeah?”
>She nodded without another word
>Fetching one of the hanging towels he swaddled her, patting her dry and fetching her damp hip plate from the tub, dabbing it clean too as he replaced it
>She was pristine save for her hair, messy and tangled where it was glued to her head
>”Ah, much better- mmph!”
>”Sorry, sorry! Just a sec.”
>Mark ruffled her hair under the towel, soaking up as much as he could before tapping a hand along the counter
>Nabbing a comb and pulling it back he gently straightened her damp hair out, stroke by stroke returning the bob to order as it dried and returned to its ‘natural’ red
>”Much better, huh?”
>He took the towel and pulled it around his waist, the pair staring into the mirror like some painted parody, an 'American Robotic' peering through the steamed glass back at them
>But it was *their* parody, the man leaning over to squeeze her from behind and pepper her neck with kisses
>”*Now* time for bed,” she giggled, the two done drawing silly faces in the lingering mist

>The next morning, the dry pair having slipped off to sleep together in some clean clothes, Wendy popped her head up from the pillow
>Her still damp hair had been messied overnight again, a trip to the bathroom to comb it straight *again* in order
>Rolling over, popping the charging cord from her neck, she caught a little present on her bedside, the shining earrings sitting there besides a sticky note on the nightstand
>Little suction cups replaced the black ferroceramic inside the jewelry, the lightning bolts glimmering in the peeking sunlight
>She could imagine his beet-red face as he scribbled the note on the kitchen counter, never one for words unless it was her
>”Sorry I had to run, but I fixed your earrings. Jury rigged it some, but no more magnets! Kisses, kisses, kisses- Mark”
>”P.S. Happy Mother’s Day”