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Disclaimer - This is a ramshackle contraption built from used clock parts, eroticism, transformation, weird science, and the remains of a once noble pop-up toaster. Please do not continue if you are uncomfortable with any of this, or if it would be illegal for you to read pornography. Otherwise, best of luck finding your way through this strange ticking place . . .

Like Clockwork

So I found this place on Craig's List, and it's actually pretty sweet: really spacious, and my roommate is a pretty cool guy. He helped me move in, and now we end up playing Scrabble about twice a week. That being said, I don't see a whole lot of the guy. He works a lot you see, both at his job and at home. This place has a basement, but I've never seen it because the one rule he gave me to follow above all others was to stay out of it.

I've asked him what's in there. I have to admit I'm curious because sometimes he can spend a whole weekend down there, clanging around at something and only coming up for the occasional microwavable sundry, his overalls stained and smelling of lamp oil and turpentine. He claims to be an artist, and that he's always getting closer to perfecting whatever it is he's making. I'm not sure exactly what it is myself, but he promised to show me the finished product whenever he completes it.

It's probably just some crazy piece of modern art: nails welded to old golf clubs or something, but still it's kind of exciting that I've been here almost three months now and still have no clue. Now, here's the problem. Our neighbors were going to throw out this old table here, and this is like, the perfect thing to go in that empty corner in my room. Problem is, there's no way it's going to fit up the stairs unless I can unbolt the legs. My roommate works on Saturdays, so he won't be back for hours . . . and I'm sure he's gotta have a wrench down there somewhere. He probably keeps a tarp over his work anyways, I could just pop down there, get the wrench, disassemble this bad boy, and put it back there, no harm, no foul.

What really gets me is that there's no lock. I kind of feel like I'm breaching some kind of sacred trust doing this, but at the same time it is kind of exhilarating: a whole corner of the place that I live in that I've never seen before. The wooden stairs creak as I descend into the darkness. Smells like kerosine. I'm feeling against the wall for a light switch, but I'm not getting anything other than noticing the old drywall change into dusty bricks with slightly crumbling mortar beneath my fingers.

Ahh, the pull-string for the lights brushes against my face and I give it a yank. It clicks satisfyingly and the bare bulbs on the ceiling flicker into luminescence.

Wow.

This isn't what I expected at all. It's not covered or anything. God, I can see all of his tools hanging from the far wall, and I should probably just go get the wrench, but it's hard to take my eyes off something as odd and yet as perfectly formed as this.

I can't help it, the statute just draws my attention towards it. It's practically life-sized, and made of hammered copper with bronze and silver highlights. No wonder it's taken so long to make, this is obviously all custom work . . . I've gotta be careful not to mess anything up but holy cow, this is amazing.

It kind of reminds me of the robot from the old black and white metropolis, but it's a little slimmer, and he's made some . . . additions. The head looks like it belongs on some kind of Egyptian god; long and thin, almost like a fox's. Yeah that must be it, the reddish orange of the copper helps, and their is lighter brass down her front. Hmm, there's also a noticeable hole between her shoulder blades, probably something he hasn't finished yet. I can see why he didn't want to show this in public yet though, there's a lot of detail here. Her nipples are carefully molded of smooth silver, standing out atop of her lusciously sculpted breasts.

God, there's a thick metal tail too, articulated so many times so as to appear smooth, it has a silver tip with a burnished stripe before it, slightly curved up behind her shapely rear. Umm, wow. He even included some very detailed female parts between her legs. The empty hollows that serve as her eyes seem to follow me as I feel the heat rise to my cheeks. This is pretty weird, even this thing's legs are strangely animal, segmented so that she stands on shiny metal "paws."

Huh, well, I guess I've seen it now. I'll just get the wrench and, hmm, what's this? There's a big winding key here, as large as my hand and just lying on the work bench. I bet . . . oh man, is it supposed to move? My roommate is an engineer, but if he made a wind-up thing this big he's got to be some kind of genius.

It looks like it's been used before, I'm sure he won't notice if I just take a peak at what it does . . . I think I know where this goes too. Taking the surprisingly heavy key in my hand I walk behind the beautifully detailed sculpture, smiling as the key clicks satisfyingly into the hole in her back. I increase the pressure gently as the key ratchets easily to the side with a hearty cranking noise. I'm not sure if I'm doing it right, but I give it a few more turns experimentally.

The sound of gears grinding surprises me as the whole thing begins to jerk and twitch, starting from the tip of her tail and ending all the way up at her pointed ears which oscillate like miniature satellite dishes. Something inside begins to jingle and ping, like someone plucking against the spokes of a music box at random until something resembling a voice forms.

"Ini, Ini, Ini, Initializing guest Winder protocol," I'm taken aback at the jangling artificial voice. It's oddly melodic. Slowly all the limbs begin to creak, and if I squint, I can see that various cogs and gears are turning around inside her through the small articulations in her torso. This is some kind of mechanized miracle . . .

"Hello, guest Winder," her jerking limbs seize and writhe before settling into a slightly stiff, but oddly natural motion. I'm amazed as her foot paw shifts and she turns to face me, weight shifting hevily. This has gone from amazing to downright impossible. The machine's tail moves sinuously behind her with a careful counterpoint to all of her motions.

I wave and stammer awkwardly. There's no way this thing can hear me, but it does a pretty convincing job of faking it; ears twitching and head cocking to the side with a mechanical whirr.

"You should relax. I am here to service you for the Master Winder," her mechanical ringing high pitched voice peals out as she steps in closer to me, tail swaying to the side with each step.

Master Winder eh? Perhaps my roommate is a bit of a mad scientist after all. I stay very still, amazed as her hands reach in and tug at the bottom of my shirt, yanking it upwards in a series of jerking pulls that blind me for a second as my arms are tangled up. God, it's actually pretty powerful. There's gotta be a battery or something inside. I bet the winding and the whole clockwork thing is just for show. It is really pretty convincing though . . . but why the hell did it just take my shirt off, and what's more, why did I let it?

"I am expressing that I find your revealed body to be attractive for a human male."

Heh, the dialog could use a bit of work. Those fingers are really impossibly deft, tiny joints clacking as they undo my fly in an instant and tug off my boxers and pants all in one fell swoop. I think I might have a clue as to what purpose this machine was built for now . . . and probably why I wasn't supposed to come down here. However, this is a miracle of modern science, and there's no way my roommate will miss the signs of me being down here at this point . . . So I might as well see the whole show now. Who knows, maybe in the future he'll be some famous new Nikolai Tesla and I can say I've seen some of his . . . earlier work.

"I will now please you for the Master Winder," there is a series of clicking whirrs as she leans down in between my legs and her oddly warm fingers grasp in at my flaccid cock. I'm having second thoughts about this: Not sure if I want a basement robot near my man bits but . . . ohh, she's actually pretty good, kneading and caressing with fingers all acting independently, spidering up the length of my cock as it pulses out, quickly hardening.

Her squeezing and tickling spreads out and one hand moves down to grope at my testes rhythmically. At first, I'm worried that this might turn into a startling rendition of the Nutcracker; however, all of her motions seem gentle, and about as strong as a human, even though there is a constrained strong mechanical pulse behind them. At the very least she does a good job of faking natural-ish movement.

"I am expressing the fact that I find you sexually arousing," her fox-like head leans in, hollow eyes looking up at me before she presses her metal chin against my belly, ears twitching. "I will help the Master Winder do so as well."

It's hard to tell exactly what she's talking about, but her head slides down and before I can stop it, she opens her mechanical muzzle and engulfs my throbbing cock with her oddly warm mouth. I grit my teeth as I feel my member slide between pointed metallic teeth, oh god, I hope nothing goes wrong, but, oh, ummm. Hmmm, it feels so slick in there, and that tongue; I can feel it's smooth articulations wrapping around my member as she begins to bob up and down.

I can't understand how its so slick until I see a faint sheen of dark amber oil running down my skin. I guess it also might explain my roommate's past oil stains . . . Oh Jesus, she's really starting to pick up the pace, hrrngh. God I can hear the almost pneumatic sounds inside of her as her cold silver nose presses repeatedly against my stomach. My dick is twitching in a way that it never has before, and the grinding of her lubricated mouth against it is only growing more intense. Her mechanical ears twitch and I can feel this bizarre and incredible suction as her hands begin to knead and caress my balls just below it.

I can barely take it. My head is swimming with the intensifying pleasure as I feel my self grinding inside of her. Her dexterous fingers knead and clench tighter against my balls with slow vice-like pressure, but it only feels better and better as I pull my head back and try to catch my breath. Something is popping again and again against the side of my penis and each time it happens I can feel more and more of her in the best way possible.

With a final wrenching squeeze I lose myself, and her hands squeeze tighter, pressing my balls back against my flesh as I begin to cum. I grasp her head in pleasure, feeling her ears whirr back and forth. The orgasm is like none I've ever experienced before, pressured spurts building up and then being jettisoned out with kaleidoscopic bliss as I feel more hot oil leak down onto the matted hairs of my crotch. As the sensations die down I can hear my still hard cock clinking against the heated insides of her mouth . . .

Wait, clinking?

I pull back, trying to clear my head as she stands up before me. What the fuck is going on here?

The alien thing that is my member twitches one last time, dribbling amber lubricant down along its silver head and segmented coppery length. I yell out, hand reaching down and brushing over it. Nnngh, I can still feel it, but it's so sensitive, almost electric as it twitches, and underneath it . . . it's not flesh at all! A hard metal plate rests below the base that my twisted member juts from. What the hell's happening to me!?

"Preference of model type unknown, initiating variable schematic," she presses herself against me, even as I try to push her away. Her mouth forces itself against my lips and the articulated tongue wedges between my teeth, stifling my surprised yell as it presses into me. My metal erection clacks against her side, sending shivers of pleasure through my spine as I can taste the smooth bitterness of the oil in her mouth while her tongue grinds across my teeth and slides against the back of my clenched throat.

There is another distinct taste there as well, tinny and electric, I blush as I realize what it is: my own mechanical pleasure. . . I can't explain how I know this so surely, but my senses are getting hazy, and all I can think about is that delightful mix of silicone solvent and the feel of her tongue scraping and clacking against the insides of my mouth as it begins to harden into rounded metal plates and sharp silver canine teeth.

As her gently vibrating mouth continues to work, one of her hands lowers itself along my chest, sliding against flesh, but then, something better: carefully sculpted internally jointed silver plates where my abs used to be. I want to scream, but at the same time, I want to feel our smooth metallic bodies writhe closer together . . . It's so confusing.

Her fingers pull up at my tinny prick, greasing themselves with a pressured jolt of lubricant that sends shocks of bliss out through my body before she reaches down to press against the plate below the impossibly sensitive silver-capped mechanical pole. The fingers tap and tease, the metal plate's vibrations resonating through my body as she slides against the strangely molten steel, straining for a second before sliding inside of me with impossible ease.

My changing voice lets out a garbled combination of metallic distress and delight as two of her fingers begin to pull and tug inside of me, carefully suspending my insides on tensile springs that light up my senses as she presses at my now articulated insides. I am suddenly aware that I can increase the tension, squeezing and clenching around the fingers as my hot whirring insides leak out their own dusky lubricant. Aggh, each separate clicking plate is so incredibly astute, trembling at the slightest of her touches as I squirm. The Master Winder will love this.

Ahhg, what . . .? It's getting really hard to think. But it just feels so good. I'm still me, but I can feel clicking and whirring in my insides in a way that's . . . oddly reassuring.

Clanging inside of my mouth, her tongue rings musically against my alloy teeth as my muzzle begins to push out, silver creeping over my pink human skin as my insensitive fleshy nose flattens into an intense brass canine cap, solid and perfectly formed. Her other hand bends the silver exterior and copper interior of my ears out, pulling them to the top of my head as they clack, connecting to the insides of my head as I begin to twitch them experimentally.

Her fingers that remain outside of my forming slit poke and prod the damasked metal of my new opening into a perfectly pleasing female shape, smooth and yielding, twitching as the whole system is integrated with its proper springs and internal weights. I can feel my member twitch and convulse each time she brushes her fingers against the base of it, but suddenly her other digits flick something inside of me. The grinding of internal gears burns against my consciousness as my shining member begins to mechanically recede inside of me, plates carefully folding in with a series of pleasurable clacks until the whole thing is nestled inside of my body, smooth metal shutter spiraling closed above it, leaving a smooth circular indentation that stands ready for future activation.

She suckles on my tongue as it slides and clicks around with her own. I can feel the dull pink fleshiness be slowly replaced by sensitive bronze colored metal plating with more and more dexterous articulation as it grows longer and entwines with this delightful model's silver lash. Her hand slides around my neck and down against my chest, taking one of my nipples, pinching and teasing it as the silvery plate underneath begins to swell slowly out, capped by a hard and wide brass nipple as her finger taps against it, sending shocks through my chassis. A needy heat rises within me as she coaxes my other breast forward, leaving me with a perfectly solid perky bust that irregardless is somehow amazingly sensitive.

As the foxy being of clockwork pulls back, I realize that I'm not panting anymore. There's no need as I can feel the comforting clicking and whirring of my forming internal metronome sustaining me. Curiously, I reach my now metallic hands up in front of my face, and watch them clench and clack against my solid shining skin. I pull them back and feel my new head. It's so smooth and sleek, I feel the ridges around where my eyes should be, but there is nothing inside, they're empty, but how can I still see . . .?

I must ask the Master Winder during my next maintenance.

Her slickened hard yet smooth fingers slide out of me leaving my prominent solid coppery labia and clitoris perfectly formed behind them in a wonderful contrast to the silvery metal of my undercarriage. I search for the proper protocol to follow but I can't seem to quite find the right one as she steps off to the side with her long gracefully mechanical legs clicking against the cool floor.

"Progress is within acceptable perameters. Progressing with installation of prototype equilibrium unit," her jingling voice rings out. I don't even need to listen to it to understand her now, however, I understand that it is necessary to please the Master Winder. My muzzle creaks open to deliver a ringing affirmative as she returns from the far side of the dim workshop with a thick and silvery limp disembodied mechanical appendage.

My tail.

"Commencing installation," her plated form walks behind me, glinting in the harsh lights and shadows of the basement as my head swivels on its surprisingly flexible neck, following her movement with the sound of turning sprockets. She holds the limp addition under one of her arms as the other reaches up in between the cheeks of my rounding metal ass. The feeling of her slick finger pressing into my anus is overwhelming, the shutters above my vaginal unit flutter as her warm slickness presses into my still hot and pliable human flesh.

That feeling doesn't last for long though; it only gets better and better as her digit is joined by another and they both writhe inside of me, soon clacking against my forming connections as they are prepared for the imminent installation. Her well oiled digits press and pull, tickling inside of me as the last of my pink internal flesh changes, improving into strong sensitive alloys and whirring precise parts. I can feel my mechanical ears flicker in excitement as she hefts the tail and ever so tenderly plugs it into my needy waiting socket, yanking it up into its proper alignment with a wrenching heave.

It's like an amputated limb that I never missed is suddenly restored to me and I can feel the rods and pistons hooking up with my central drive with comforting clacking securness. It begins to wag, carefully feathered plates all bending in perfect synchronicity as it allows me to shift my posture forward slightly. Her hands slide along its entire strong lithe length, checking for imperfections and making my mechanical insides rumble in bliss. She almost teasingly rubs just under the base of my new tail as she moves her ministrations downwards. Are machines aloud to tease? I'm almost sure the Master Winder would approve . . .

The simple flesh of my legs is kneaded and pressed in against as it forms into a sleek shining surface of strong plates and durable connective joints. My new counterbalance helps me stay upright as my thighs and calves condense slightly under her automatic ministrations, buzzing with new power as the pistons form inside of them.

Pulling up at my heels, she locks them into their proper place as strong rounded metal joints while my feet begin to stretch out further, caressed by her precise hands as my legs settle into a more stable weight distribution pattern. Helping prop me up, she takes each of my fragile pink feet up in her hands and runs her glistening hot silver tongue between my toes as they condense into perfectly formed metallic paw-like feet, gears vibrating as they evenly distribute my increased weight, thick silver claws tapping against the floor. The feeling of my new paws clacking against the solid concrete is somehow immensely satisfying.

My head follows her, ears twitching back and forth mechanically as she walks in front of me, coppery tail swaying behind her in perfect synchronicity. I can feel my own new limb twitch slightly as my weight shifts: a perfectly formed and absolutely necessary addition.

I'm unsure as to what I should do next. I feel like I could simply wait here for the Master Winder, but my body feels too charged, there is still something that I really want . . .

Her blank and yet knowing eyes crawl over my form, all the way from the twitching two toned tips of my ears, past my long shining silver muzzle, and over the curved plates under my impossibly sensitive brass nipples. I can almost feel her gaze like a tangible thing as it slides down my slim waist beyond my alert steel tail and the myriad taut joints of my new mechanical legs. "Visual inspection complete," her voice rings out, snapping my senses to attention. "Initiating testing procedures,"

Coppery hands slide down past my slim belly, brushing over the electrically acute nub of my brass clit and its tense underlying spring that sends jolts into my insides. She then officiously slides two delicate fingers into the clenching spring-sensitive insides of my perfectly formed femininity. The digits writhe around for a second, making me squirm before they press firmly against something with a sharp click that makes my tail turn up in surprise as my long ignored member begins to slide out; whirring, plate after copper plate attaching into their proper places. They all widen out and allow the solid silver tip to extend through the top before clamping together around it as a dribble of translucent oil splashes out of the end of my perfect metal tool of penetration.

She raises one of her svelte legs up in a strange gymnastic feat and I know exactly what to do, I hook and arm under her and lift her solid sultry body as she swings her other leg around into my grasp. Her weight is no difficulty at all as my tail tenses and moves behind me to help balance the both of us. Long clenching legs straddling me as I support her, my entire body clicks and purrs with mechanical apprehension. Slowly, my arms lower her, our ears oscillating wildly as I slide her down, letting my member press slowly into the clenching slickened cleft of her perfectly sculpted femininity.

Her whirring and pulsing insides put flesh to shame as they grind against my metal pole, scraping over the small indentations of my articulated cock while her heated springs push and writhe around me. Clinking tail swishing about wildly behind her, she opens her delicate muzzle, letting out a wordless musical hum as she clenches her hands around my shoulders. Our solid breasts clash and scrape together, nipples sending electric jolts of pleasure into my wildly operating insides as the heat and pressure begin to build up to acceptably tortuous levels.

Draping her arms down my back, I feel her press in just between my shoulders, both hands drilling in with worrying pressure as we rock together, bodies clacking in pleasure. It feels strange at first, and then better and better as she opens up a small rounded key hole in my back. I groan out a scraping note of bliss as she teases a finger into the small hole, checking for imperfections and finding none. The tapping pressure sparks directly against my central drive, making my vision dance with lights of untold ecstasy as she tinkers inside of me.

Rocking against me as my arms hold her steady, she bobs up and down over my sweltering cock. She pulls herself forward and we both lean in and let our muzzles meet again, my coppery tongue sliding against her silver one as we explore every crevice of our mechanical mouths while our wild gyrations intensify. I feel myself nearing capacity as she slams down over my solid cock, her internal plates all clenching with amazing synchronicity as I clack my muzzle open and shut over and over again, ceaseless pressure spilling out as I begin to loose high pressure blasts of mechanical lust within her. I can feel her own slick oily pleasure seeping into the grooves of my member, subsuming it and ensuring its own total lubrication as her insides undulate spasmodically around me. My ears jerk and my tail twitches with every jolt, pleasure not dying down as we pull ourselves impossibly tight together and I fill her with one last hissing lunge that causes heated oil to dribble onto the floor beneath us.

"Pressure levels within acceptable ranges," she climbs off of me, paws clicking against the floor as she stretches her mechanical joints. "Initializing standby to await next winding,"

Her fingers enter me again, sliding past my sensitive femininity where they press and hold against something. My body relaxes, perfectly content as my cock clacks slowly back into its containment unit and the iron shutters close after it. I feel so peaceful; absolutely content as I see her standing next to me, adroit copper fingers sliding into herself in a very familiar way as her body goes stiff, face turning straight forward as her arms wind up slowly to her sides, just like my own.

Drifting into the calming lull of standby, I wonder what the Master Winder will think of me . . .