Capsule

Paul shined his palm light around the dark space, playing the weak beam over a mess of steel and musty plastic. Dust and corrosion marked every surface, hinting at the module's age. His team had only spotted the ruin yesterday. He hadn't dared investigate what he thought he had spotted with the others around but...

There it was, tucked away between two moldering tangles of cables and strange consoles. He couldn't tell what the larger machines had originally been, but android capsules were always the last thing to go. Every salvage guide said so. They had lists of all the important model codes, too. Blue for medbots, red for combat drones, green for maintenance blanks... on and on. Probably twenty in the official lists. But he thought he had seen a different color on this one yesterday.

There they were, clear in the trembling circle of light from his suit's palm. Pink markings. The Vulture's Guide didn't list pink. The Federation Recovery Index didn't list pink. No reputable guide mentioned android capsules with pink markings. To be fair, he didn't think they were very common. But he had seen them once in a vid when he was doing... independent research online.

His heart was pounding now. Every step he took toward the capsule made him feel like it was going to vanish. The crotch of his hardsuit was feeling tighter and tighter. That vid had carried him through many a long and lonely night. If this pod was real, he could live it. Slowly he reached out toward the smooth, dusty curve of the egg-like capsule. His hand brushed a wide swath of ancient grime away.

Still shining,

he thought as the cleared surface caught the light from his suit's palm.

How is that even possible after all this time?

His hand was shaking as he pressed the button set into the almost-invisible seam.

He couldn't help jumping back as the top of the pod split open with a hiss. Actuators whined with the effort of raising the pink-and-chrome panel, but it did slowly ascend to reveal a slender, buxom form curled up inside. That's when he knew he had been right. That was no medbot or combat drone.

His hungry gaze slid over long hair draped over a lithe back, down to the gentle curve of firm buttocks, and all the way up... God, all the long, long way up those legs folded up in front of the droid. Her shapely arms were wrapped around her legs, holding them close against an ample chest. His trained eye could make out the faint hints of tan synthetic skin and auburn spun-fiber hair. He could spot that sheen on the droid's white-and-red bodysuit that matched her skin – it was the same stuff. But the illusion was almost perfect.

Then her big violet eyes fluttered open and met his and he was gone. He felt like he was drowning in them, those great pools of purple with strands of golden light flickering in them as her mind powered up bit by bit. The false skin around them creased when she smiled. That smile. Smoky, taunting... just a perfectly calculated crook at the corner of her mouth, but it promised so many things.

The droid pulled herself gracefully out of the pod, unfolding her long, lithe legs and uncovering the chest of her bodysuit. Her body. God damn. Even though he knew it was part of her, his eyes couldn't help but accept the illusion of her clothing. It was perfectly molded around her breasts, giving the flawless illusion of rubber straining to conceal her curves. And failing deliciously. She rose up into attention, freezing into a stiff pose for a heartbeat before her eyes flashed and she relaxed slightly.

"Welcome to the recreation deck," she said. Her voice warbled almost imperceptibly, belying her nature, but the husky, inviting tone was impossible to mistake. "I am Number Four." Her head cocked slightly. "Do you require my services today?"

"I...I..." he stammered. He couldn't believe this was actually happening. Of course, some parts of him had less trouble figuring out the situation. His hardsuit's crotch felt about four sizes too small now. It was actually getting a bit painful. He checked the atmosphere readout on his wrist. All green. Good. A few keypresses and the seals on his suit unlocked. The mounting pressure below his waist slackened as the panel finally gave a bit outward.

Number Four didn't noticeably react to the sudden sound of disengaging seals or seams loosening all over his suit. She was still standing exactly as she had been, head slightly cocked to the side.

She's still waiting for an answer, moron.

"I...yes, I would..." His mouth snapped shut again.

I can't even do this with a fake girl.

She stayed still for another awful moment, eyes flickering, and he started to think she had broken. Then her head straightened and her coy smile returned. "Are you shy?" Paul froze as still as Number Four as she stopped to wait for his answer. This was happening. He was about to be rejected by a robot. Sure enough, a moment later her body strained up into the rigid pose she had flashed through when she was starting up. "Please standby, loading..." she said.

But then she relaxed. Sort of. Paul took a step back when he caught the hungry look in her violet eyes. Her body whirred, whisper-quiet, as she settled down slightly. She looked like she was suddenly going to spring at him. "I'm programmed to handle shy customers," she growled. The rubber-like surface of her bodysuit rippled and shifted. Suddenly the white-and-red rubber was gone, changed entirely into the smooth tan texture that passed for her skin. Her breasts settled slightly, now bearing small pink nipples unconcealed by illusory fabric. The mound between her legs spread into a pair of pink folds, open and glistening with slick moisture.

Number Four slunk forward, something almost predatory in her stride now. Paul took another nervous step back but froze when she reached out to caress the side of his face. She leaned in close to whisper in his ear. "I think there's someone in here who

will

speak to me."

Suddenly the readout on his arm lit up with flickering symbols, changing so fast they blurred together. Paul could feel a faint tingle of electricity on his cheek where Number Four's hand was resting on his helmet. Her eyes lit up with a web of flickering golden light, as hypnotic as the calm violet had been before.

His helmet split along the center seam and fell to the ground in halves. His chest and crotch panels followed the plastic pieces down to clatter on the metal plates of the ancient station's deck. The rest of his suit locked back together, though. The assist motors in the suit's structure whined, dragging his arms out and his legs straight and locking in place. He suddenly wished the expedition hadn't paid for such an expensive power model when he strained against them and found that he couldn't budge. A moment later he mentally kicked himself for complaining.

Number Four's hand slowly glided down over Paul's cheek, now without the intervening layer of clear helmet visor. "That's better," she purred. "Now you can't bolt and we can take...our...time..." Her fingers traced his jawline in and found a sensitive line trailing down toward his chest. He started to follow her hand down with his eyes but found himself focusing past it on her gorgeous breasts. He could spot the faint seams between her surface panels, but they did nothing to detract from her beauty. Whoever had crafted her body had artfully traced its curves in those thin lines. Her chest, her arms, her flat stomach, her supple legs, every perfect feature was framed.

But her breasts drew him in, shifting as the cable muscles beneath her skin carried her hand slowly lower. Her fingers were lazily drifting over his chest now, drawing whorls and tracing lines without any apparent pattern. Paul could feel his own muscles twitching in response, skin tingling in the wake of her teasing touch. He only realized what the sensation was when her finger slid over his nipple and a sudden needle of tension burst out from it with a sharp electric snap. He cried out momentarily before biting his lip.

Number Four's grin widened slightly and satisfaction flickered through her aggressive expression. "Mmm, so that's how I get you to speak to me." Her fingers slowly walked across his chest toward the other side, tingling with electricity as they traveled. "I knew there had to be some trick to it. I wonder if the other one does...the same...

thing

!"

Another snap of electricity rang out and another twisting pulse of tension snatched at the muscles around his right nipple. This time Paul kept his mouth clamped shut, muffling his cry into a sort of moan. The sudden sensation in his chest, accompanied by the appreciative growl Number Four answered him with, made his penis strain out against the thin shorts he wore under his suit.

The motion did not go unnoticed. Number Four glanced down to see the bulge. "Looks like this wants out," she said. "I wonder if it has something to say too." She looked back up at Paul, face briefly petulant in mock annoyance. "There are just so many parts of you that want my attention." Her hand started drifting slowly down again, tracing over his stomach. His hardsuit's abdominal plates fell away one by one to allow her access.

The light touch of her fingers never quite stopped moving, but she was clearly in no hurry. Paul's dick pulsed in anticipation, rhythmically pushing the front of his shorts out and then relaxing. Finally Number Four's tingling caress drifted over it. She cupped the cloth-bound shaft in her hand, sliding her palm deliciously down over its length and slowly back up. A shudder danced through Paul's body. Only the still-rigid structure of his frozen suit kept him standing.

"Is that better, cutie?" she purred into his ear. Her hand stroked slowly down and back up again, gripping a bit tighter this time. Paul gasped. "You wouldn't happen to have a more specific request for me now, would you?"

He still had trouble speaking until she stroked him again, hand suddenly pulsing with vibration. "Ahh..." he moaned and then gasped in air to say, "Suck it."

Number Four's wicked smile grew and her eyes flickered with light again. "Yes sir." She lowered herself to her knees, the supple false skin of her breasts sliding down over his chest, down his stomach,

ohhh down

on either side of his penis. Her tongue followed her breasts down, dragging that same delicious tingle in a hot, damp line all the way down.

He felt his shorts being dragged down and his dick spring out just as Number Four's tongue reached it. He couldn't strangle the moan that escaped him when her hot tongue wrapped around his shaft and slid down. It was a soft, tight, wet ring tingling with an electric sensation that spiderwebbed out along his nerves and a twisting motion that spiraled all the way down to the base.

Number Four drew back for a moment, letting Paul suck in a quick breath, before diving forward in earnest. Her tongue flicked over his penis, twisting around and teasing along the length as her delicate fingers matched its strokes. For a while he could barely follow the individual touches of fingers, hand, and tongue but his mind gradually gave up and he could only perceive a single shifting flow of sensation coursing through his shaft and crackling up his spine. His back strained against the bonds of his suit, trying to arch, but the exoskeleton held his perfectly in place for Number Four's precise ministrations.

Then her mouth wrapped around his cock and Paul's sudden gasp echoed through the chamber. Her lips were slick and hot, and her tongue danced along the underside of his length, but beyond the opening of her mouth was a slowly spinning tube of soft nubs that Paul's brain could barely process. His hands grasped the sides of Number Four's head and he barely even noticed that they were suddenly free. He just started mindlessly driving his dick farther into the whirlwind of sensation. He shoved into it... and in... and in... and in... and in... as hard as he could, over and over and over. Number Four just matched his accelerating rhythm, bobbing her head forward and back.

Then she gently pulled away, lips sliding over his shaft and head as his arms snapped back out straight away from his body. The sudden absence of sensation dragged an angry growl from his throat, but then she was pressed up against him. Her long legs twined around his, her supple arms gripped his back, and those hot lips found his own. He could feel her smooth artificial skin all over him. She was pressed up so close he could pick out every seam and feel the strength of her cable muscles holding him tight.

She thrust her hips in and he slid inside her and everything was bright light. Her throat was nothing compared to this. She ground into him, thrusting against his trapped form, pounding his dick into her. He could feel artificial muscles gripping his cock accompanied by rings of ridges and nubs spinning and buzzing. Number Four writhed against him, hips bucking him inside her and mouth sensuously exploring his. Every touch of her soft plasticine form was alive with tingling energy. Every inch of his dick was caressed and gripped as it slid in and out. Every nerve in his body was on fire, screaming out as his pleasure built and built.

Then it burst. Paul cried out as the sensations focused into laser strength and started pulsing, dick spasming as it shot his seed deep inside Number Four. She cried out in response and held him closer. He could feel his penis being gripped even tighter, milking out every last drop in grinding waves. Every muscle in his body tensed, and finally his suit released him. His back strained into an agonized curve. His arms crushed Number Four into his chest. His legs flexed wildly, bucking at the android pressed up against him.

At last the storm of pleasure slowly drained away. He slumped against Number Four, spent beyond the ability to stand, but her robotic form easily supported him. She held him there, rock steady, not moving an inch, until the strength gradually seeped back into Paul's muscles and he could hold himself up.

Number Four leaned in for one final, lingering kiss before stepping back away from him. Her smooth skin rippled once again, restoring its texture to the strained bodysuit she had worn when she emerged. Her large violet eyes were perfectly calm as they looked into Paul's.

"Thank you for visiting the recreation deck," she purred. "Did you enjoy your encounter?"

"I... Yes. Absolutely. Very absolutely." Paul was still panting, and his suit's assist motors were doing more than a little to help steady him.

Number Four smiled. "Please, don't hesitate to return. I'll be waiting." And with that, she climbed back into the ancient capsule. The top slid down on its smooth bearings and sealed, looking once more for all the world like the chrome-and-pink pod had never been opened. Paul tried to shake the lingering cobwebs from his mind as the dark chamber slowly seeped back into existence around him.

He looked around at the trove of ancient salvage. It didn't take him long to make up his mind.

I know what my share of this haul is,

he thought to himself.

I'm pretty sure we've got some green paint back at the camp. I'm going to drag a maintenance droid capsule out of here, thank the crew kindly, and never see them again.

A whole world of possibilities slowly unfolded in Paul's mind as he reassembled his hardsuit and staggered back to camp.

He did not lack for pleasant dreams that night.