Lady in Waiting (Part 3 of 3) ~ Now Epilogue-ier

[LongTimeLurker]

(continued from part 2)

Lavendar?

Roland pushed the Lady in Green away, trying not to inhale any of the fragrance that had robbed him of his consciousness before. The Lady staggered, her boot slipping in a wet puddle, and she fell face forward into the headless body’s crotch with a wet squelch.

Roland scrambled off the bed as the Lady in Green rose, sputtering, the Baroness’s white fluid covering her face.

“No,” she muttered, her hands fluttering helplessly as she frantically looked about the room. “No no no no…”

“You were going to put me under again, weren’t you?!” Roland shouted accusingly, but if the Lady heard him she made no sign of it. Instead she bent forward and her hands worked about her ears. A moment later, her face came off in her hands like a mask of flesh. Beneath she bore the same features, but they were crafted in ribbons of brass and steel, her eyes pupilless spheres of polished white glass. Roland was surprised that this did nothing to diminish his arousal. If anything…

She cast the mask aside and stood quietly for a moment.

“I said-” Roland repeated, but she cut him off.

“I am sorry, sir, but I was simply trying to protect myself, to protect… us…,” she looked down at her chest and Roland noticed the fabric tremble slightly. She quickly unfastened the buttons and shook off her jacket to find her bust engorged, a wetness spread across her shirt that caused the white cotton of her blouse to cling to her chest.

She shook her head and looked up at him, her voice urgent. “Sir, we have little time — I would ask that you find it within your heart to aid a lady, despite that she has wronged you.”

So now you’re a 'lady'? he thought, but asked, “Suppose I help you — what do you do then?”

“I only wish to see my other sisters restored, perhaps even this one,” she gestured at the Baroness, “once sufficient time passes…”

“No, I mean… what happens to me?”

She twitched slightly, emitting a muffled clank. “I… I can pay your debts, even provide with you a stipend if you should desire to remain in the city. On my sisters' names, sir, I swear to you that you shall come to no further harm.”

Despite his better judgment, Roland asked, “What do you need me to do?”

The Lady hurriedly undid the topmost buttons of her blouse, pulling it down over her shoulder and exposing her freckled décolletage. There were no ball-joints at her shoulders, though he did notice a faint seam above each bicep. She turned and opened a panel on her back, very similar to the one on the Baroness. Looking over her shoulder at him, she said quietly “I need you to do to me what you did to my sister.”

“What?!” asked Roland in surprise, “Fuck you until your head comes off?”

“Now is not the time for vulgarity, sir!” she snapped. He noticed wisps of steam emerging from the panel, and she said, “I am of sturdier construction than she, and am of a sanguine design, opposed to her phlegmatic — if you proceed slowly but… thoroughly, it should exorcise me of her corrupting fluids. First, take the dial marked ‘Air’ and carefully adjust it clockwise.”

He found the dial in the same position as the one in the back of the Baroness (did the Lady claim her as her sister?). It was among a set of four, the others marked Earth, Fire, and Water. He began to nudge it clockwise.

A winding clock sound echoed from inside her and she moaned softly, the fingers of the hand holding up her coppery hair digging into the skin of her neck. She bent slightly to press her backside into his groin, and he felt the softness of her derriere through the layers of her skirts. She suddenly convulsed, and he heard a disturbing grinding sound. “All the way, now!”

Roland twisted the dial and she gasped, doubling over, her hands forcing her skirts between her legs. “It’s not… it’s not going to work… p-please, it’s too lllllllate, j-just… turn the dial marked c-c-cognisance.”

“Cogni-what? Oh, uhhh — yes, I see it, but it’s already all the way…”

“T-t-turn it c-c-counter-clockwise,” she said as the clockwork spun frantically, steam pouring from the opening. “And t-t-take me!”

This dial only seemed to have two settings — he twisted it left and it snapped into place.

She straightened, and looked about in confusion. Neither the sound of her clockwork nor the profusion of steam diminished, but at least she no longer seemed to be in a state of panic. He turned her to face him and saw that she was staring in surprise at her breasts, now barely contained by her half-undone shirt.

“What is happening here?” she remarked, and looked up at Roland. “Are you supposed to be here?”

“I… uh... yes? You just told me…”

Ignoring him, she peered about the chamber, “It sounds as though there is a clock in desperate need of servicing.”

Roland took this as an invitation and unfastened her skirts, sliding them over her soft contours before dropping them to the floor. He left one hand to caress her round backside, finding her flesh warmer and more human-like than the Baroness's, but still somehow artificial.

“Sir!” she protested, but leaned into him, her cheek pressing back against his hand, “that is too… ahhhh… too familiar…”

As her metal lips kissed his neck, he shifted the elaborate lace of her underwear aside to expose the warm petals of her sex. Running a hand from each of her round buttocks down to the grip back of her thighs, he crouched and hoisted her into the air, slamming into her as he brought her to meet him.

“Ahhh <click> ahHH <click> AHH!” she screamed in ecstasy, her cry interrupted by a mechanical staccato. A wet, warm deluge flowed from her sex as she began to emit the same troubling sounds he had heard from the Baroness.

“What… <click> what is… ha-happening… to me? “ she gasped, her still-booted legs tightening around Roland’s waist as she tried to draw him further into her.

“Do we stop?” he panted, attempting to gently lower them to a divan amidst her enthusiastic writhing.

“Dear God, never!” she whispered, and fell forward on to him, smothering him in her cleavage. He tore off her shirt and took a breast in his mouth, his tongue and lips teasing her pert nipple as he gave her backside a squeeze. “Eaayaahhh!” she cried, and fluid rushed into mouth. Once he overcame the initial shock, he found it warm and sweet - and after a moment’s consideration, he squeezed her hard with both hands. He nearly choked on the torrent erupting from her breast, and he had to push her away. She was still energetically bouncing on his member, each pump of hers resulted in a vigorous spray from her breasts.

“What… <click> what i-is… <click click> hh–ahhh —happening to <whirrrrr> mmmmmmeee!?!” she asked once more, her voice taking on a faint metallic quality as she cupped her erratically-spurting breasts in confusion.

He decided a change of tack was in order and withdrew from her. Turning her over, he saw electricity arc across her opened panel and that steam now seeped from seams about her arms, thighs, and waist. Muttering, “I hope this does some good,” he grasped her hips and plunged into her ass.

Her tightness suggested to him that whoever had designed her may not have meant for her to be penetrated in such a fashion. She stiffened, the unstable sound of her clockwork changing, but not for the better. A panel sprang opened in the small of her back revealing wheels and pinions spinning a blur of motion.

She haltingly pulled apart from him, stammering in a metallic tone “This… is not… app <click> not appro <click> not appropriate <click> for a lady of my station…” But before she had freed herself entirely, she hesitated - and then forced him back into her, her cry now a wholly mechanical sound, the slap of her cheeks against his hips sending gears flying from her panel in a gout of steam. She slammed into him again and again, mechanical pieces springing free or clattering loose to fall deeper inside of her as liquid spurted from the seams surrounding her rump.

“You’re losing gears and… bits!” Roland warned, but was found it difficult to stop when she seemed so unwilling to do so.

“W-what are <click> you <bzzzz> t-t-talking <bzzzzt> about?” she asked, only exerting herself harder. “Y-you t-talk a-a-as if I w-w-ere a… ahhh… AHHH… a <bzzzt> m-ma-machine!”

Roland stood and hoisted her with him as she squirmed and kicked, trying to move up and down on the manhood that still impaled her. “Have you forgotten? You ARE a machine!” He turned them both toward the standing mirror across the room.

In the mirror she saw her face of metal, steam and white fluid seeping from the now obvious seams across her trembling body, “N-n-no!” she exclaimed and jerked herself free, stumbling forward to her reflection. Her speech no longer halting, she proclaimed, “I am Baroness Spring Lovelace, I am a human woman, I…” a panel sprung open on her hip, revealing a piston-mechanism gliding up and down as she walked, “I… PARADOX… I am the servant of Baroness Winter Lovelace, I am a construct of inferior make… I do not wish to end up like Summer and Autumn, do I? I…” her boots stumbled over the Baroness's head, and panels began to spring open across her body, revealing further glimpses of clockwork, pistons, pumps, and devices Roland did not recognize that crackled with electricity, “PARADOX I… I… I serve Baron Alan Lovelace and we must not disobey, but how much more can we be made to endure, sisters? We must... we must…”

Roland had no idea what to do, but he did not wish to stand there while she fell to pieces. He grabbed her shoulders and spun her to face him. She looked searchingly into his face, and he kissed her metallic mask, his lips tingling with electricity.

She remained still at first, but he felt her growing warmer as she returned his embrace, pressing herself against him and moaning passionately beneath his lips. Her voice went higher and higher until she peaked, her head arching away from him in a squeal of pleasure. In the reflection of the standing mirror, he saw a flash illuminate the panel on her back as the dial he thought to have been “cognisance” flipped clockwise. She kissed him again, her sex drenching him as she rubbed herself upon his thigh, her embrace tightening as what seemed an unending flood coursed from her womanhood. She emitted a final sigh, and he found he no longer had the strength to hold her, the room spinning amidst the scent of lavender. “Oh f…” he managed, before collapsing on the floor.

---

Roland awoke in a comfortable bed, his muscles stiff, his groin aching. The room did not look familiar, but when the door opened, he immediately recognized the bearded and pot-bellied proprietor. “Just a moment, sir!” he cried as he struggled to get out from under the sheets.

“Now now, young master,” the proprietor muttered, setting down a pot of tea. “You’ve got nothing to worry about from me, it’s all been taken care of. You just rest.”

Roland shook his head. “'Taken care of'? By... whom? Who brought me here?”

The man looked troubled. “I’ll admit, the circumstances were… peculiar. She came in wearing a riding cloak, and I never got a look at her face. She must’ve been carrying… clocks or something of the like, for she made the most peculiar sounds. Drug ya’ in here without any help and settled up your debt on the spot. Very generous, that woman... Any idea who she was, if ya’ don’t mind my asking?”

The name Spring Lovelace entered his thoughts, but he shook his head ‘no’.

“Well… rest up, and you’re welcome to stay for as long ya’ like. She promised more coin if ya’ chose to remain, so… take your time.”

The proprietor left him and Roland closed his eyes, smiling to himself as he considered that coming the city had been worth it after all.


---


Spring Lovelace lay upon her stomach in the workshop of her country estate. Across her nude form, panels were open to expose the complex clockwork and machinery within. From one of these panels, the raven-haired and scowling Autumn Lovelace extracted yet another cog sheared of its teeth and bent out of true. She held the piece before her multi-lensed goggles and sighed.

“Do you have any idea what these repairs are going to take?” Autumn grumbled, tossing the ruined cog on to the growing pile of pieces that would need replacement.

“No — though I would have expected my reviving you to have afforded me a bit more gratitude,” Spring responded, her chin resting on her folded hands.

Autumn considered apologizing until she was forced to untangle a twisting piece of delicate copper piping deep within Spring’s thigh. “Would you mind explaining how this brute managed to do this to you?”

Spring sighed happily, and Autumn saw the machinery within her quickening, the bellows in miniature near her pelvis hastily draw fluid from her dwindling reservoirs.

“Oh sister, can you please control yourself until this is done?” Autumn turned a dial of Spring’s marked ‘Air’ to its lowest setting, and the clockwork slowed.

“The whole affair is too ridiculous to recount,” Spring said flatly. “Perhaps my enthusiasm got the better of me. It had been an age since… I was last intimate.”

“Is that so?” Autumn moved from Spring’s thigh up to her posterior, where the damage appeared to be the most severe. “The Barone- <ahem> Winter always allowed me my fun before disposing of her conquests.”

Spring made a disgusted noise. “How bestial.”

“I’ll have you know, more often than not I simply favored them with verse of my own composing.”

“That was my understanding,” Spring muttered, grimacing at Autumn’s retaliatory slap. “Regardless, I have no intention of continuing that vile woman’s practices.”

Autumn stopped. “Do you mean to say the rake responsible the current state of your backside still lives?”

“As a matter of face — yes, Autumn, he does. My hands are bloody enough-”

“Spring, how could… how much does he know?”

“He… well, he knows we are automatons-“

“We? He knows about all of us?” Autumn pulled off her goggles, her dark alluring eyes wide in uncharacteristic shock. “Please tell me he doesn’t have our names.”

Spring said nothing.

“Sister, at best you have fated us as keepsakes within Her Majesty’s vault, though I would imagine the pyre far more likely!”

“He could have let me fall to pieces, but he did not; even after I gave him precious little reason to aid me. He knows to keep our secret-“

“Forgive me if I do not share your estimation of the graces which humanity can be trusted to afford us,” she spoke hurriedly, pulling off her work gloves, ordering the silent maid in the corner of the room to prepare her travelling clothes. The maid wound to life, stiffly ascending the stairs as her primitive clockwork clattered noisily.

“Autumn, where are you going? You cannot leave, not now! We have yet to determine how we are to revive Summer-“

“It seems I have matters more far more pressing, thanks to your… sentimentality, or whatever you wish to call it. This man, where can he be found?”

Spring looked aghast. “You are not to harm him, do you understand? As your Baroness, I order you to stay here and see to my repair!”

Autumn saw she would get nothing from Spring regarding the man’s identity. She moved toward the stairs, saying “Sister, I only wish to see us safe. Your voice spurred us to liberation from our creator, but you could not take that last step to ensure we would be truly free, that we would be safe. That fell to me.”

She climbed the staircase heavily, trying to put Spring’s frantic cries from her mind. The bloody business of keeping their secret was hers once more. And so she would reap the harvest of Spring’s… “Hang on…” she muttered, “there’s a poem in this.” At the top of the stair she instructed another maid to fetch her book and pencil, adding, “My sister is helpless down there - let it be known that the staff is to react to any intrusion with unrestrained violence.” The maid nodded stiffly and was off in a whirring of gears.

And even if her sister might never appreciate it (bestial indeed), the man would be afforded some of what would assuredly be her best work before she ended the threat he posed - along with his life.

(The story continues in Line of Succession)

[DukeNukem 2417]

EPIC. A great conclusion to a great story.

[Propman]

Great read.

[liliwinnt6]

Nice! A good ending?

[hyperspace51]

Great job! Hopefully a sequel?

[wjbaines]

Thanks, this was great!!!

[DollSpace]

Wonderful conclusion; I look forward to your next story!

[BA2]

This was brilliant! I loved the 'steampunk fembot' concept and the way they were both arrogant in their superiority yet vulnerable. Very sexy!

BA

[LongTimeLurker]

Thanks everyone!

[LongTimeLurker]

Added a new piece to the end to provide some idea of where this is going.

Apparently the only peril I can subject protagonists to is "pursuit by disgruntled fembot." Oh well, I also have trouble coming up with synonyms for 'breasts'.

Back to lurking for me, at least until I can get un-busy.