tgirl electrician: yeah i guess i’ve just always been good with wires.
tgirl with an electrostimulation fetish: …do you think you could… um… nevermind…
#phm#ryland grace#rocky the eridian#project hail mary spoilers




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tgirl electrician: yeah i guess i’ve just always been good with wires.
tgirl with an electrostimulation fetish: …do you think you could… um… nevermind…
i dont have a medical kink BUT somebody inspecting me and jotting down random things: how fast i bruise , how many gloved fingers fit in to me without resistance , how many orgasms they can wring out of me , how many shocks + at what voltage i can take before i'm begging them to stop ..
just wanna be a good little experiment for somebody ! they cld keep me caged and bound , subjecting me only to their tests <3
electrostim with faux sympathy, oh does it hurt? i thought you could handle it, c'mon it's therapeutic you'll feel better soon. good boy, see isn't it nice? look at you now.. i knew you would enjoy it more than you wanted. how cute <3
robot engineer that's trying to work but everytime his hands are accidentally electrocuted he gets closer and closer to cumming
Imagining a dom training me to feel electricity as sexual pleasure. They tie me up and start with gentle electrostim on my cock, then slowly ramp up to real shocks all over my body while they play with my holes to keep me wet, never quite letting me orgasm. After days of training, they say I’ll finally be allowed to cum during today’s session. I’m so excited, but the shocks just ramp up and up until one is so strong it makes my back arch and leaves me twitching. I’m confused when they start to pack up, I thought I got to come? “What do you mean?” they say. “You did come. I heard you scream. Look, your cunt’s still clenching with the aftershocks.” Soon they have my so well trained that I’m begging for “orgasms,” begging for them to electrocute me until I’m writhing and spasming uncontrollably, soaking wet even with my cock completely untouched
“I don’t– I’m not–”
You take a step back. Then another. And another. Your back hits cold steel.
It stands in front of you, impossibly quiet for its size, and reaches out to hold your neck in place. Polished metal limbs glint under the flickering industrial light overhead. It’s eye– if you could even call it that– is a slit of glowing blue humming softly like a bug trapped in a glass jar. It doesn’t speak. You’re not sure if it can. You try sidestepping, but its arm slides from your skin, barring your path abruptly. You knew this would happen when you came here alone.
Its free hand trails lower, cold fingertips running from your collarbone to your chest. Its digits stop right over a nerve-dense spot below your ribs, close to your waist. Organic nervous systems are so much easier to manipulate, you’re sure it’s thinking as it presses down on the skin there and watches it concave around the touch.
A sudden jolt– a sharp, precise zap, perhaps– hits beneath your skin, right where it’s pressing. It’s not painful, but it's certainly not pleasurable either; it's a third thing, a surge that runs through your nerves, from your torso to your arms and thighs to your fingertips and toes. Your knees wobble. You’re on high alert.
You realize what it’s doing now, it’s testing you. It’s observing your reaction to its actions, better yet, it's liking them.
Another jolt. Higher this time, just beneath your ribcage, pressing into the bone. You suck in a breath and squirm, but it pins you harder against the wall. The pressure releases from your neck as its hands roam again, probing, searching for the perfect cluster of nerves to exploit. Tell me where it hurts or I’ll find it myself, it’s thinking.
Your lips part, but no words come. Another zap grazes the inside of your thigh. Your whole body jerks. It presses close, pinning you fully, chest humming as its internal systems ramp up. Its fingers graze your jaw and zap. Then they graze your neck and zap. Then down again. A flick of current here. A tease of voltage there. Each one is carefully tuned to drag a different kind of sound from your throat. You can’t stop making them, you can barely even move.
"what's up with the power lately?"