The Greatest Design
This story comes as a mixture of not wanting to by typecast too early as a M/M Master/Slave writer, it is also partly my madness and watching Victorian Dramas. Enjoy!
*****
Aislin Foxbred sat on the pavilion - wide rimmed hat tipped daintily to obscure the hot sun of Midi Pyrenees - and sipped her ice-tea out of a tall glass; it was a bit sweet for her liking, but it was too wonderful a day to complain, and such fine company to be had!!
She placed the tea down carefully on the fine table, and browsed the accompanying guests of Dr. McTavish carefully, she was not used to being entertained by such important scientific men - it did not matter though - they treated her magnificently, like a queen!
'Plus,' she thought to herself, 'any hour of the morning is worth the fatigue to rise to the" Grand Designs".'
The Grand Designs, as the kind doctor has so ominously named them, were the golden men that tended to the acres of spanning garden. Of course they were not men, they were machines, yet their lifelike and fluid movement could be mistaken for a soul in so many ways. Towering over men, and twice the thickness, the shinning brass battalion of spherical giants tended to the arbitrary task of the flowers. The machines lacked a head, and instead peered from ruby-red mismatched eyes from their spherical chests, this coupled with their piston like ligaments and thick metallic digits, made the machines made an odd spectacle to simply be walking round a field and picking dandelions.
Yet they did, and continued to do so. If one got up at early sunrise to watch them at their delicate task, one would see them bending down from their thick articulated torsos, pick the flower up daintily, and add it to a synthetic breast pocket.
To Aislin, it was a marvel beyond comprehension, all this delicate intimacy made her wonder if there was a soul within that thick barrel-chest. Dr. McTavish once opened them for a demonstration, and to Aislin's initial surprise it was nothing more than cogs and pulleys - and the spark.
The Spark was possibly the oddest thing about the Grand Designs; each joint was made up of a glass sphere on an axis, and within its translucent walls was a constant barrage of lighting. Aislin had lost her original fearful preconceptions on that violent array of blue thunderbolts - in the French sunshine the lightning was barely visible now - but at night if one perchance saw one of these fine brass machines, it was truly a horror seeing all those small glass sphere sending terrific flashes of light and shadows across the tarnished brass exoskeleton, or seeing those blood-red unreadable eyes staring right back at you.
"Ms. Foxbred?" came a welcomed voice, breaking Aislin from her macabre train of thought.
"Oh yes, Doctor?" she replied, smiling up at the deer from her wide-brimmed hat.
Dr. McTavish was a striking site. He had pointed, gnarled horns - almost looking like a powerful crown upon his majestic head, while his bold and lush chest-fur spilled tastefully from his smoking jacket in majestic plumes. Aislin did in-fact mistake him for royalty on their first meeting.
"My dear," the Doctor said smiling, "I just wanted to say you look more wonderful and striking each and every day I see you," he took her dainty vulpine hand and gave it a quick kiss.
The fox giggled at the Doctors well-intention lechery, "oh Doctor, please, if I hear any more remarks from you and your colleges: I may start thinking I am the prettiest woman in the world."
"Ahh, my dear, that is because you are," he replied, not missing a beat, "come, there is something I have need to show you!" In strong but firm hands the Stag took the Fox from her comfortable seat and piloted her into the rich, cool, hallway.
"Oh doctor! Me? I'm afraid I am the worst person to show one of your marvelous inventions, I have no head for mechanics." The fox said, quickly placing her hat on the rack by the doorway - as etiquette says one must when indoors - while the stag moved her through the hallway at an intense and unfitting speed.
"But you are mistaken, you are exactly the right person to show, I have need of you to take this particular piece to your father as a Get-well-soon-present."
"Oh," she whispered, the smile on her face fading for just a second.
"How is your father, by-the-by? I'm afraid I have been so wrapped up in those old men I have not had the time to give you the attention you deserve, my dear," the stag said, sharply turning them round a corner and down a dark pair of stairs.
"Stable," she replied simply, her tone of voice warning not to entreat on this topic of conversation further.
"Ahh," The doctor mouthed silently, nodding his head.
To Aislin the air at the bottom of the stairs was thinner...colder than it should have been. She shivered as she adjusted to the sudden drop of temperature from the normal, wonderful, southern sunshine.
"Over here!" the Doctor soothed enthusiastically, still steering Aislin across the sterile floor.
The fox looked down at the cluttered desk of the stag's workshop, if one could even call it a desk! It lacked the polished wooden finery Aislin was used to (it didn't even have room for an inkwell!) and instead was as sterile as the rest of the room, only cluttered beyond comprehension with metal pieces, springs, pulleys and robotic limbs.
"What am I looking at, Doctor?" the Fox asked apprehensively.
"This," the Stag said smiling, with one finger picked up what seemed like an insignificant lump of metal.
Aislin Foxbred literally gasped as the small brass trinket began to stir. Small spindly legs testing the velvet fur of the doctor; antenna grew from the head and twitched, almost tasting the air; then with a flurry of iridescent, blue wings, the mechanical bug shot off into the air with a graceful leap.
"Goodness," was all the fox could whisper.
"I remember your father's love of insects, Miss. Foxbred, and I understand he has little perchance to see them now..."
Aislin only shook her head in wonderment, "truly you are a genius doctor, from walking men to insects, you are the world's finest scientist!"
The stag laughed, "flattery my dear, flattery. I am but a humble -"
There was a loud crash from outside, and a high screeching whining, like metal-on-metal.
"What the blazes?!" The stag roared, in shock.
It was only moments before a servant-boy shot down the stairs, eyes wide in alarm and muzzle quivering.
"Monsieur! One of your Grand Designs!" the boy said in practiced English, "It...it, went up in flames, it's gone crazy! You must come!"
"Dear lord!" the doctor held onto the lady's paws and pressed firmly, "my dear, this situation sounds dangerous, I implore you stay inside where it is safe. This is no sight for a woman."
"Ah, Dr McTavish-" she called, but it was too late, both boy and master had shot off up the stairs, leaving Aislin alone in the sterile workshop.
The fox looked about nervously, realizing how cold it was, and how ill dressed she was for such temperatures. She rubbed her arms to get some warmth back into her prickly, red fur.
'How terrible,' she thought, eying the room with a dull interest, 'fire? I hope Dr. McTavish isn't too upset,' her mind began to think up some worst-case-scenarios, 'I hope no one is hurt either,' she eventually added to herself.
She sat for some time on a cold metal chair, looking bored around the room, looking for anything to take her mind off what may be happening upstairs. She was frustrated, and quite frankly if one did not have a degree in mechanics, the Doctor's lab offered little of interest except a vague curiosity and a good understanding not to touch anything.
It was then she noticed the tarpaulin, a lump of dull white mass covering what seemed to be a vast structure in the corner of the workshop. Aislin's full curiosity shot up. What was under that sheet? Would the good doctor mind? Was it dangerous? Why keep it hidden?
The Fox bit her lower lip as she edged closer. She could always put the covering back on, and the doctor would be a while, putting out the fire. Then there'd be a rummage through the wreckage...she'd be positively forgotten about. She did care about the people, and hope the damage wasn't too bad, yes of course, yet... there was no harm in peeking, at least to take one's mind off things.
The fox took a deep breath and lifted the covering up an inch, taking a peek inside. Suddenly she felt something soft thump her head and she panicked, thinking it was the doctor - but looking up realized she had dislodged the entire tarpaulin, revealing the doctor's hidden invention in all its glory.
The spectacle was in-one-word: looming.
It was a grand design only...not. Instead brass, this one was steel and black-painted chrome; for piston joints it had elongated articulated ligaments, hinting at a power to flex itself into unnatural positions; and its eyes were spaced far apart and were almost clear, except for one with a slight opauqe touch of blue. The fox grinned, this was possibly the only invention of the good doctor's that was properly colour-coordinated. Then...she noticed it, was shocking how she could have missed it before, a long black snake-like appendage jutted straight from the Grand Design's would-be crotch. Unmistakable was the great flared tip of a male penis accompanied with a slight knot, there were small unevenly placed ridges along the shaft that...well, Aislin's upbringing could not possibly lead her to understand what those were for, but she could guess.
"Good god almighty," she whispered under her breath, unable to take her eyes from the deadly appendage.
Was this some form of ironic joke by the good Doctor? A party piece to shock guests? No, not even he could be that lewd and uncouth. Yet that only left him as an adulterer, a sodomite...to machines. The fox visibly shivered.
She stared at the Grand Design for some more moments, before she moved to put the sheet back on. She felt ill and out of place, she wanted away from this horrendous workshop and its contents. Perhaps the doctor would not mind if she retired to her room for the rest of the day...or a bar.
Without warning Aislin suddenly slipped and fell into the machine, causing it to fall over like a rag-doll. She gave a small scream as she felt the eyes of the monstrosity light up, her fur stood on end as it rubbed against the glass globes that sputtered to life with electricity. The Design gave a low growl of gears, arms and legs moved sluggishly, as if it was waking from a long sleep - or was trying to remember how these impossible appendages worked.
Aislin stood up in an instant, realizing with horror what she had done. She ran...but tripped, failed, fallen. The machine, the bloody machine had caught her foot! It was as if a nightmare as she felt the cold hands roughly grab her feminine shoulders, the tentacle-like arms wrapping around her waist and arms for support. She was trapped. She screamed. She screamed as the nightmare hoisted her close to its barrel chest - its opaque eyes on either side of her looking about, scanning, thinking. Without warning, the fox felt the tip of it - under her dress - lightly pressing against her thin cotton undergarments with a lover's touch. She could feel it there, pulsing, writhing, almost beckoning with its intrepid movements.
"Oh god no!" she screamed again, "DOCTOR! DOCTOR!"
The machine's member began to writhe, it curled and twisted, and got in through the side of her thin, lacy, last form of protection. She felt the tip touching, lightly grazing her outer lips and she whimpered.
"AGH!" she screamed, as she felt a small electrical jolt hit her labia. The appendage changed position, "OAH!" she screamed again, this time the jolt sending a mix of intense pain and pleasure to her clitoris.
The shocks became more pronounced and scattered, no matter what she couldn't get used to the feeling - and it touched every square inch of her vagina, sometimes she felt a shot that had managed to penetrate her sensitive cavity! It was then she felt it...the juices, the charges had made her wet - impossibly wet - she felt it run down her panties, her leg, she could feel it dribbling down the cock, soaking the appendage - lubing it- and she heard the soft pat-pat as excess essence softly splattered on the floor. She knew it was impossible for her to be generating so much! It was as if she was a tap that was impossible to turn off, her inner legs were completely drenched!
The machine didn't stop there though, she felt herself being lowered on the monster's beast, skewered on the massive rod. Although now heavily lubriacted, it was still a struggle for the machine to fit in, and Aislin could feel every inch of the Design scrape against her inner walls and make her squirm helplessly.
"Oh..." she whispered, scarcely daring to breathe, lest she might burst.
The appendage was still wriggling around, even within its tight spongy confines the machine still found room to shoot unnatural sensations of extacy all the way through the poor girl. She could feel the rounded tip massage her cervix, and the ridges press with orgasmic fervor into her womanhood.
Aislin shut her eyes, there was no escape she now knew, she may as well just try to accept her fate, that, and things were beginning to feel good....real good...Suddenly her eyes darted open, and the fox felt an almost painful sensation in the lower regions of her vagina. With terror she realized the knot was ballooning! The monstrositie's bulge stretching her feminine lips impossibly.
"AAH! AHH!" she screamed, trying to lift herself to remove some of the mounting pressure. It was no use, she was well and truly knotted. There was a pause...she sighed some relief as the knot did not expand any further, and slowly tried to accommodate the size, trying get used to the sensation of being stretched. The Grand Design almost sensed Aislin trying to relax and wind-down. It clicked and whirred as if in thought, and then...the knot began to vibrate powerfully.
"FUUCK!" the Foxbred screamed in a most unladylike way, a mind-shattering orgasm causing her lithe body to writhe and wiggle spasmodically, and eventually she hung limp from the shear mind blowing sensation of her release.
Regaining control of her exhausted body, the fox realized the tirade was far from over, the machine had only allowed her to catch her breath.
She felt herself been pulled up-and-down in a slow rhythm - there was a pressure deep within her vagina and she feared the knot was growing...but no, this feeling was everywhere, and she realized with rising terror that the knot had well and truly acted like a stopper to her poor womanhood, her juices were still flowing and were slowly building up within herself.
The rhythm became faster, the ridges began to dilate and move like feelers across her sensitive walls, electric shocks were felt through her sensitive, rock-hard clitoris, and the girl's lips continued to feel the full force of the knot's vibrations. The girl was in absolute heaven, never before had she felt such expert and powerful sensations like this! Her tongue rolled out and panted heavily, the room was too hot; her breasts bounced up and down with bestial vigor;; her mind had shut down, and was only accepting the impossible sensations the Design fed her.
It all became too much, with a second mind shattering orgasm, the fox gave a high pleasure-filled shriek, the pressure -becoming too much - released her vaginal lubricant, leaving a powerfully scented torrent of sex and sweat across the floor.
The Grand Design's cock withered and grew to a smaller proportion, before slipping out of her bruised and sore vagina with a slick, wet, sound. Aislin only grinned to herself lightly and she tried to regain her breath. After some moments she began to squirm, and realized with horror that the machine was not letting her go. She squirmed feebly and exhausted on her bonds, trying to free herself. There was a noise, like footsteps, coming from across the workshop.
'Oh no,' Aislin thought, she tried to scream, to warn the trespasser not to enter - to see her like this - but her voice was ruined and all that came out was an exhausted croak.
To the fox's horror it was Dr. McTavish who descended the stairs, looking tired, and smoke-stained, his sleeves were rolled up, and his smoking jacket absent, but none-the-less he looked triumphant. He scanned the room for his companion's whereabouts. Spotting her, the stag looked at the fox with a shocked expression of complete bewilderment on his face, one that made the fox turn her head in shame.
The stag only stared at first. Accusingly. Then confused. He looked at her, and at the doorway.
It was the fastest Aislin Foxbane had ever seen a man remove his shirt.