Playing Together

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Decided to add some of these stories here as well. Most of my clockwork or robot things are not explicitly furry but

yeah

Another place to have them, more organized. Easier to find.

Had originally posted it on Twitter on 2021, lightly edited for mastodon and cohost.


Second person fic thing clockwork horny


Playing Together

Your mainspring is slack. You know it. You feel it. There is no tension. No movement. You are stuck like this.

Your mind works. It is only your body that requires the tension. Something new this time. Something interesting. Other times, it is your mind that needs winding. There are many options. This is new.

You know there is a key. You see it. Next to you. It is a big key. You were posed so you could observe it. You know its purpose. And so you wait. Just observing it is not a good game.

You hear someone come in. You are not posed to see the entrance. But you know it is time to play. You listen. Is that ticking? Is that what it sounds like? It is not from you. Your workings are still.

And then they touch you. You feel it. They pose you. You are not able to see them. Not yet. They straighten you, your body is stiff enough to hold the pose. As a mannequin. Clicks in place.

"Thank you for your patience" they say A flutelike voice. You hear it. They ARE ticking. "We hope that this is a wonderful experience for you" They move your head, turn it to them.

And you see. They are playing as well. Brass and porcelain. Glass and metal. They are playing as well. Their hands delicate, sculpted fingers. An expressionless face. Ticking.

They are wound up. They are moving. They are playing.

You can see them. You can hear them. You can feel them. "Let's begin", they say. A fluid motion. You see them pick up your key. Evaluate it. Caress it. You are sitting straight, posed.

"We hope you enjoy this form. It is a popular choice" They move past your visual field. Behind you.

And they touch.

They touch you. You can feel their hard fingers caress your form. Your plating. Your joints. Your keyhole. You feel them explore your keyhole. Just shallowly. Touching its edges. The entrance. The opening.

Steady sound behind you. Ticking. Clicking. Smooth motion. Metallic joints sliding. Mechanisms functioning smoothly. And then they insert your key on your back, ever so slowly. Smoothly. But agonizingly slow.

"Let's wind you up" they say. You can't wait. The key fully inserted. Meshing with your workings. Ready to give you tension. Ready to make you move. You can feel it. It is almost an extension of yourself. You can feel their touch on your key.

And then they start. Slowly. So slowly. Click by agonizingly delicious click, tension building inside you. Notch by notch. You can hear them ticking. Clicking. Moving. You can hear

They are taking their time. But the motion is constant. The noise is constant. Such deliberate slowness. It is the point. You can feel their hands press harder against your key. Winding you up. Taking more effort. And yet the rate is constant.

And so it feels for a long time. And then they stop. You can still hear them ticking behind you. You wonder if there is anything wrong.

And then they touch you, one hand holding your key still, preventing you from moving, preventing the tension from releasing. You are barely half wound. They touch your face. They whisper "Such a good toy. You are just our doll now" You would shiver, if they let you

And they let you. They let go of the key for a second. And you move. You shiver.

And then they hold it again. Tight. Stopping your motion immediately. Forcing your workings to stop after they started. Frustrating. Aching. Desiring of motion and release.

They keep ticking. They keep clicking. And they caress you with one hand while holding your key still. "Delicious, isn't it?" they say, like a whisper.

They continue to wind you up. SO close. So nearly full. You can feel it. You can feel the tension. You can feel it wanting to release. To move you. To let you move.

The clicking the ticking. It slows but the winding continues at the same pace. No.

"Ye--ss. You

get it" they say haltingly

They are running out. Their mainspring is slackening. Their motion still regulated. But you know they will run out soon. They will be still.

Is the game for you to wind them back? Is that the intention?

You can't do but wait

and then suddenly the sounds cease SO CLOSE. You can feel it. You can feel your spring. Strongly pushing But their hand remains holding your key It pushes against but it is not enough to move.

And so both you and your attendant, still. One behind the other. One with its mainspring slack. Holding you and your key. And you, full of tension, waiting to be released. Held motionless.