Interlewd Six - Shy’s Secret Sauce

WARNING: There's a threesome, lots of sub-dom play, some spanking, some gay sex, some tentacles, and some straight sex. Shy is bi, and she has a 'sexual fantasy' machine, and she's using it to the hilt... heh.

Lady Charlotte Adeline Doucette, Princess of Prince Edward’s Isle, was a little restless.

She walked back and forth across her tiny living room, the walls folded back so that she could glance to the side where her many plastic figurines were on full display, but at the moment the tiny scale figures of samurai weren’t bringing her much joy.

To most, she was the reclusive, uncommonly seen samurai known only as Shy. A name bestowed upon her by the rather kind Grasshopper a year and a half into her career.

She actually held the record there. The longest time someone had gone without being named as a Samurai, discounting those who kept their birth name and... well, perhaps there were some samurai who were in hiding still.

She didn’t blame them if they existed.

At the moment, she was trying very hard to break through her introversion, but it was difficult, and sometimes she questioned if it was even worth it. 

At other times, she felt... a kind of aching loneliness.

It wasn’t just for friends though. Sometimes she wanted... a bit more.

Swallowing, she paused between one step and another, then surreptitiously looked around. “Latyns?”

“Yes, Lady Shy?” Her AI companion replied into her ear. She preferred hearing him speak over the disembodied voice in her head, it felt more natural, better.

“Ah, can you activate privacy protocols?”

“I see. Yes, Lady Shy, Privacy Protocols are active.”

She nodded. Now the door to her apartment would disappear, hidden behind a holographic illusion. Calls would be rerouted, as would elevators, and a suite of security systems would alert her if anyone came close. 

She wanted out of her private life, but sometimes... sometimes it suited her better that no one was looking.

No one could spend as much time on the Mesh as she had without seeing some things and maybe picking up a habit or two, but that didn’t mean that she wanted anyone to know what she did, ever. 

If someone found out, then she’d buy a shovel from Latyns and start digging. “Latyns, can you, ah, look away as well?”

“I’ll do what I can, Lady Shy.”

That was the best she could hope for.

She didn’t immediately jump into the degeneracy, of course. That was not her way of doing things. Instead, she arranged the... scenario.

Her face was already feeling rather warm as she started to pace again. What she was doing was wrong. Not as wrong as some of the things she’d seen on the net, but it was still weird and inappropriate, and if anyone, ever, found it, she’d die of shame and humiliation.

Somehow, that made it kind of hotter? 

Swallowing past a thick throat, Shy glanced at her bed. 

It was a nice-looking queen, shoved into a corner of the smaller room she used to sleep in. It wasn’t just a bed with a nice comforter and some tussled up blankets though. The entire room and especially the bed was Protector tech.

It had taken her a month to build up the courage to ask for it. The underside of the bed housed a many-limbed machine. The Personal Use Sensual Stimulator, Mk Y. She called hers Duke Richard in a flight of fancy.

It was... a lot, capable of a lot as well.

That wasn’t the shameful part. Sure, if people found out, she’d be embarrassed, but there was precedent. A lot of women had toys tucked under their mattress. Hers was just a multi-limbed hyper-intelligent stimulation machine made on some alien plant and probably cost more than a penthouse, but she was a samurai, and they tended to go... big.

No, that wasn’t the thing.

The thing was the item standing on a little plinth next to her desktop. It was a small band that was worn around the face. Lighter than a feather, with full 270 degrees of vision and a live connection to her computer and certain pieces of software on it. 

It could simulate anything she asked for. 

Duke Richards could then act out the... tactile parts of those simulations.

Shy was shivering a little, even though it wasn’t too cold in her room. Stress? Anxiety? The start of another panic attack? She wasn’t sure, but it also came with this incredible sense of pent-up... stuff, in her. 

She moved up to her computer and double tapped the file sent to the 3dWreath. It was a biometrically locked file. She swallowed, then leaned in closer to her microphone. “Unlock the, ah, s-sexmachine,” she said.

Her computer ran a quick scan, then gave her the digital equivalent of a ‘go ahead.’ If anyone tried to unlock the file without her voice and ID, the PC would explode.

Then the rest of the building. There was no taking chances.

There were a few dozen files, and this is where the real shame began, because these were things she’d use a very advanced, very naughty program to build.

Quickie.3d

Quint.3d 

TheEntireNorthAmericanOlmypicTeam.3d

GrasshopperHuggingMe(3)_Final.3d

BeingADom???.3d

BeingDommed.3d

BeingDommed2.3d

BeingDommed3.3d

BeingDommed4_extrarough.3d

PublicTouching.3d

Then the files that really made her face warm up. 

Cat_Lucy_Threesome.3d

MisterCrackshotCheatingWithMe.3d

GomorrahSpanking.3d

Nya?.3d

She took all four of those last ones and loaded them into the program, one after the other, so that they’d play sequentially. Of course, she could stop it at any moment. In fact, she probably would. 

Having the faces of people she knew... well, this was a whole step past just fantasizing, wasn’t it? 

Oh no, how was she going to look her coworkers and... maybe friends, in the face the next time she saw them? 

She loaded the programs onto the 3dWreath anyway, then shuffled in place. She was wearing comfy PJs. A loose sweatshirt over a silken t-shirt, sweatpants... nothing she’d want to be see out of the house in, but the usual clothes of a shut-in.

And now she was wearing the 3dWreath as well.

For a moment, she saw nothing. Then the cameras on the exterior of the device came on, and it was as if she wasn’t wearing anything on her face at all. 

This was it, the moment of no return...

“A-activate program one,” she said as she darted into her room.

She closed the door, then locked it with a purely mechanical deadbolt.

There was a small chime in her ear, telling her that the program was on, and then... that was it.

Shy took a moment to just breath, this would be nice, and comfy, and-- and the door barged open all of a sudden.

She stumbled back and away, only registering that two people had moved into the room after a moment. It was hard to tell, because the two figures were so... entwined with each other.

Miss Stray Cat and her girlfriend, Miss Lucy, both of them in their Academy uniforms. She only vaguely registered that the door was closed and locked again, almost as if it had never really opened at all.

“C-Cat, wait,” Lucy said as she was almost on the edge of the bed. “Look, company.”

Both Cat and Lucy looked over towards her. 

Shy was frozen in place. She didn't think she'd be this scared. This was just a program, something she'd designed, at least in broad strokes.  Still, it was just a simulation.

It wasn't real, none of this was real.

Still, even knowing that, Shy couldn't help but feel a jolt of fear, then arousal, and then just an intense sort of confusion as the two women got off each other. "Hi, there," Cat said as she turned towards her.

“H-hi, Miss Stray Cat,” Shy said. “H-how are you, ah, doing?” Gosh, she could barely talk, even in a sim.

“Doing just fine, Shy, and yourself?”

Shy nodded a little too quickly, then looked over at Lucy, who was busy tugging on Cat's sleeve. “Cat,” Lucy said. “I'm hooorny. If you're going to chat with Shy here, we might as well make use of her.”

“Use her?” Cat asked. “What do you mean? I don't think we should--”

“You're not being fair, Cat,” Lucy said, and her voice was a purr. “Don't tell me you're not interested. You've talked about it a couple of times, right?”

“I... well, yeah, but...” The Cat in this sim wasn't quite right. Too hesitant, too shy in a way that the real Cat wasn't.

“Good,” Lucy said before she turned her full attention onto Shy. Her hands ran down the front of her little pleated skirt, and she smiled, slow and wide. “Shy,” she said, her voice a pur. “You're okay with this, right? We just need someone to, ah, reach the spots that we can't reach ourselves... if you know what I mean. So, would you like to fuck my girlfriend with me? If you’re a good girl, maybe I’ll even return the favour.”

Shy could barely believe the words that were coming out of Lucy. It was... well, not her. This wasn't Lucy, the real Lucy would certainly never say something so... shameless. She’d only met her once or twice, but still....

“I...” Shy swallowed. “I suppose, I could?”

“You'd have to undress her first,” Lucy said.

“Ah, yes, I'd have to do that,” Shy said.

“Are you waiting for an invitation or something?” Lucy asked, and her voice was suddenly sharp. “Strip my girlfriend. Do it.”

Shy didn't wait to be told again. She stumbled forwards, closer to the girls, and the bed. Her hands reached over and touched Cat's coat, and the feeling was almost perfectly right.

Her fingers shook a little as she reached out and unbuttoned the front of the black uniform that Cat was wearing. One button after the other, she undid them all until she could tug the whole thing open. It was harder to do with Cat turning her attention back onto Lucy, kissing the shorter woman even as Shy tried to focus on her task.

There was a pair of perky breasts underneath the school top. Shy hesitated, but Lucy was already moving forward, her hand coming up and around, cupping the back of Cat's head. "Um," she said, uncertain.

“She doesn't bite, not hard,” Lucy said. “Unless you're into that.”

“I... ah...” Shy was not into that. Not yet, in any case.

"Oh, no, look at the poor girl,” Lucy said. “Look, do it like this.” She grabbed the front of Cat's blouse and pulled it apart. Buttons went clattering to the ground and Shy stared.

There was a bra underneath, a simple little white thing, but then Lucy reached up and behind Cat, her fingers working some kind of magic. The bra was tugged out and off, and Cat was bared to the both of them. Then Cat was back to kissing and pawing Lucy, who was taking off her own top with equal gusto.

Shy had never been a part of this sort of thing before. It felt, in a way, like a violation. This wasn't real. But it felt real enough. She wasn't going to stop.

She didn't want to.

Shy tugged at her own shirt, then hesitated. Wouldn't it be rude to be the first to undress?

Her thoughts were scattered by Lucy's voice. “You can touch her tits, you know. In fact, I'm giving you permission.”

“I--”

“Touch. My. Girlfriend," Lucy said.

Shy felt her knees go a bit wobbly. “Yes, ma'am,” she whispered. Her hands moved up and onto Cat's chest. The skin there was soft and warm. Shy could feel the beating of Cat's heart.

Her face was burning hot.

“That's it, touch her. Squeeze her. Kiss her," Lucy said. "Now her pants. Take them off."

Shy hesitated, then her hands went to the button of Cat's slacks. She undid the metal clasp, and the zipper went down a moment later. Shy could smell the faint musk coming off the other girl, and the heat on her face grew a bit stronger.

Lucy reached over and grabbed Cat, then tugged her back. The two fell onto Shy's bed with an oomph, and for a moment, Shy was left alone, just watching.

Watching, as Cat pulled Lucy's lower torso up, spreading her legs. Lucy was still in her skirt, socks and even her shoes. In the house, no less! Shy would never...

Shy watched, unable to stop herself, as Lucy's panties were pulled up her legs in a hurry and Cat began to lick at the woman. Lucy was running her hands through Cat's hair, urging her on.

“Oh, oh yes, Cat,” she moaned, “Right there.”

Shy stood, staring, feeling her body begin to heat up. It wasn't fair, she wanted to... she wanted to get in on the action, but would that be okay? Wasn't this a two-person kind of deal?

"What are you waiting for?" Lucy asked. Her entire body was swaying, hips gyrating as Cat ate her out. "Cat deserves some love too, no? Get to it. You know what to do."

"I..." Shy wasn't sure, but then her body seemed to be moving on its own. She leaned over and began to tug at Cat's pants. She got them off, revealing pale, milky legs, then there was the underwear. Black, with her Stray Cat logo on the front, currently upside-down as Cat was halfway on the bed, taking... care of Lucy.

"Cat, I'm going to--"

"Go ahead," Cat mumbled, then went back to what she was doing.

Lucy moaned and shivered, her voice rising up as she enjoyed herself.

Shy felt a surge of... not anger, but something. Jealousy?

She wasn't sure, and she couldn't dwell on it either. Instead, she moved up to the bed, knees hitting the edge of it as she leaned forwards and then... she kissed at the top of Cat's slit.

It was a bit odd. Not that she'd never done this before... in simulations, but it was different. There was a strange, heady feeling to it.

Cat moaned into Lucy's pussy, and the smaller girl shuddered. "Oh, god, Shy, do more."

"Yes," Shy whispered, and her tongue began to lap at Cat's sex. The taste was a bit odd, and yet, it wasn't. Her hands moved up and she fondled Cat's behind. It was firm, soft, and yet, there was a lot of muscle.

"Cat," Lucy whined, her legs beginning to clamp down around the other girl's head. "God, Cat, your tongue, it's... ah, yes!"

Shy heard Lucy's cry, and she paused for a moment, glancing up at the girl's face, only to see Lucy's eyes flutter shut, her lips parted and her body tensing. She was beautiful like this.

Shy couldn't stop, and instead, she kept on going, eating Cat out while Lucy's orgasm died down.

It was a bit of a blur after that.

One moment she was between Cat's legs, the next, the two women had her between them, and they were touching her, and kissing her, and Shy felt like her mind was being turned into mush. But it always came back to orders. Lucy telling her what to do, who to touch, who to lick. 

She wasn't the one having sex her. Her clothes were still on, even, though... rumpled. She was, for the most part, an observer. At best, Cat or Lucy would reach over, fondle her breasts through her shirt, or casually run a hand along between her legs. But never actual, real sex. Just fleeting touches and orders. 

Still, she liked it.

And that was the problem, because the more she enjoyed it, the more she felt this guilt and shame. It wasn't real, none of it. This wasn't really Cat, or Lucy, and yet, here she was, getting off to the thought of... doing this sort of thing with them.

Eventually, the two women were splayed out on the bed, exhausted.

Shy, sitting on the edge, her legs hanging over, looked back at them. Her throat felt a bit sore. “Ah,” she said. “I suppose... that was nice, thank you.”

Lucy blinked a few times. “Nice?” she asked.

“Nice?” Cat repeated.

Shy froze. “I, well, you know, it was a bit nice?”

“Just nice?” Lucy asked, and then the smaller girl was getting up. Her body was naked, sweaty, and... well, a bit slimy. There was a smell in the air that wasn't entirely pleasant.

Still, Shy couldn't take her eyes off the girl. “Well, you know, it wasn't really, well, real,” she said, and that was the wrong thing to say, apparently, because Lucy was suddenly right next to her, grabbing her chin and turning her head around.

“Nice,” Lucy hissed, and her tone was a little scary. “I think we need to make sure you have a much better time.” She reached over, started to tug on Shy’s sweater-top.

“I, well, that's very kind of you, but you don't need to--”

“We're not asking,” Lucy said, her voice a little sharper.

“E-end program!” Shy squeaked out.

Cat and Lucy disappeared. What the left behind was... a very rumpled, but empty bed, and her. All alone again for a moment. The lights in the room brightened slightly, and she allowed herself to go limp and roll onto her back.

She was... very slick, between the legs. A weird, tingly, empty feeling. But also a strange urge? Like she had to pee, but not that. 

She shifted her legs, feeling a little antsy, even as some parts of her were a little sore. That had involved a lot of stretching, she supposed. She wanted friction, and heat, and to be fucked. 

“N-next program,” she said quietly.

The door opened, and in stepped someone she knew only in passing, but who’d left a mark. Crackshot cowboy, with his stetson on... and nothing else.

Shy swallowed, eyes trailing down the man’s naked chest to his, ah, what was the word they used in porn? Cock? That felt appropriate for what she was seeing. “Howdy,” he said.

She wasn’t sure if he ever actually said that, but she’d been... distracted when she programmed this one.

Then Crackshot walked over to the edge of the bed and reached down, one hand grabbing her around the ankle. “Whoa!” she yelped as he pulled her closer, her shirt riding up to expose her stomach and her pants tugging upwards uncomfortably.

He grinned down at her, then reached up and grabbed her by the front of her pants. She gasped as he bodily turned her around, then reached a hand up between her legs and lifted her up so that she was on her knees. “Howdy.”

She was breathing heavily. The sheer strength of the man was a little frightening, and very exciting.

His big, calloused hands began to grab her pants, and she couldn't help but moan.

“Howdy,” he said.

“Y-yeah,” she agreed. 

Crackshot tugged her pants down, but only enough to expose her. Then there was a big hand on her upper back, pushing her down, and Shy had no choice but to let it happen, her face pressing against her mattress as the cowboy loomed behind her. Fresh air touched her sex, cool and wet, even through her panties.

She was almost panting now.

He took his time. His hand trailed along her spine, then cupped her butt. It was a nice butt. She'd had a couple of nice comments about it online. He squeezed it, and she let out a little yelp.

“Howdy,” he said.

“Yes,” she whispered, her thighs rubbing together.

He was taking too long. She needed to be touched, she was aching for it.

The cowboy didn't seem to notice, or for that matter, care Instead, he slowly hooked his fingers into her underwear and slid them aside. She shuddered, her toes curling, her body shaking, her hands fisting in her sheets.

A hand was placed on the small of her back, holding her in place. Then something big and hot and hard pressed up against her sex.

“Howdy!”

He pushed in, and the feeling was like nothing she'd ever imagined before. It was thick, and warm, and a little uncomfortable, but mostly, it was just incredible. He thrust into her, and she felt herself tighten around him. She couldn't help but cry out wordlessly, a sound of pure pleasure.

He slowly began to rock in and out of her, and her whole world narrowed down to just him, and her, and the feel of him inside her. She could barely think, could barely breathe. Her whole body was on fire.

She gasped and moaned and writhed under him, unable to do anything but take his cock. He was so big, so strong, so powerful. And he was fucking her.

Her toes curled, her fingers dug into the bed, and her body clenched. It was a release, a moment of pure bliss.

It wasn't enough.

The cowboy pulled out, then flipped her over onto her back. His hands were rough, calloused, and his eyes were intense. He was panting a little, his cheeks flushed, and his hat askew. 

“Howdy?” he growled out.

“Y-yes, please,” she said.

He was back inside her a moment later, and she was moaning again, her head rolling back and her eyes squeezing shut. He was fucking her, using her, and she loved every second of it.

She lost track of time, her whole world a blur of pleasure and heat. His cock inside her, his hands on her, his body pressing against hers. It was warm, sweaty, suffocating.

He was grunting and groaning and fucking her hard, his hips pistoning, his cock plunging in and out of her, and she was loving every second of it. Even the lewd plapping noises, even the way her lungs couldn’t quite fill all the way. 

Then he came. It was sudden, a hot rush of cum filling her up.

“Mhh!” She cried out, her eyes going wide, her body clamping down. She couldn't help it, the feeling was too much. Her mind blanked, her whole body tensing..

And then, finally, she was coming.

It was the most intense, powerful orgasm of her life, and it left her a shuddering mess.

Crackshot pulled out and wiped his forehead.

She laid there, a boneless mess, her body tingling.

“Howdy,” he said proudly while tipping his hat.

“H-howdy,” she whispered. “End program.”

He disappeared, leaving her once again in the empty room, her heart racing and her body covered in sweat.

She laid there, for a moment, catching her breath.

It was nice, but... a little impersonal. She didn't feel any connection, no real affection. She wanted... she wanted someone who cared.

But at the moment, with her pants around her knees and her shirt hiked up, that was hard to think about. Her whole body was tingling and sensitive. There was artificial faux-semen leaking out of her with every twitch and pulse.

Duke Richard had done a good job there.

It took her a minute to pull her pants up. She could shower after the next simulation, but... not yet.

The last sim was ready and waiting, and Shy was a little apprehensive, and maybe even excited? This one featured Gomorrah, the strict and serious nun. She'd met the woman in person only once, but she was... a bit intimidating.

“Next, ah, program,” Shy whispered, and the door to her bedroom opened once again.

In stepped a woman wearing a simple black habit, with a mask that covered her face. In one hand, she had a small switch. The kind used for punishments.

Shy swallowed, her throat going dry. “G-Gomorrah?”

The woman was silent. She strode up to the bed, then sat on the edge of it.

“Stand,” she said, her voice sharp and commanding.

Shy scrambled to her feet. Her heart was beating fast, and she could feel the heat on her face. “I'm sorry, I...”

“No excuses,” the nun said, and her hand came up.

Shy flinched back, her body tensing, but then the switch came down, not on her skin, but on the bed.

“You're a filthy, sinful girl,” Gomorrah said. “Look at you, your clothes are a mess, and your body... have you no shame?”

Shy shivered, her cheeks flushing. She was a mess, and she was ashamed, but not for the reasons that the nun might have expected.

“I... I'm sorry, I--”

“You're sorry, you say?” the nun asked, her voice hard and disapproving. “We'll see about that.”

Before Shy could respond, the nun was moving, reaching out and grabbing her. Her hands were strong and firm, her grip unyielding.

Shy couldn't help but gasp as the woman turned her around, then pushed her over, so that her face was pressed against the mattress.

The nun's hand came down, hard, on her ass. The impact was sharp and painful, but not as much as the embarrassment of being spanked.

“You're a wicked girl,” Gomorrah said. “And you need to be punished.”

“I'm sorry,” Shy gasped, her face burning with shame and humiliation. She'd never been spanked before, and the experience was overwhelming.

“I don't think you're sorry yet,” the nun said, her voice cold and stern. "But you will be."

The spanking continued, the nun's hand coming down on her ass again and again, until her cheeks were red and stinging. She couldn't help but cry out, tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I'm sorry."

"You will be," the nun said, her voice full of authority.

Shy was shaking, her body tense and trembling. She couldn't help but gasp and sob.

Finally, the nun relented, and Shy collapsed onto the bed, her body a quivering mess. 

"You're a mess," the nun said. "A dirty, wicked girl."

"I'm sorry," Shy whispered. "I'll be good."

"No, you won't," the nun said. "But we can try."

Then the nun was moving, her hand moved down and slid between Shy's legs, touching her.

Shy's eyes went wide, her body tensing.

"So wet," the nun said, her voice disapproving. "And this, is it not the seed of a man who isn't your husband?"

Shy was shivering, her body aching, her mind reeling

“I... I'm sorry," she gasped. "I didn't mean to."

"Of course you didn't," the nun said. "But that doesn't change the fact that you did."

The nun's finger was pressing in, entering her, and the feeling was incredible. She was so wet, so turned on, that she couldn't help but squirm.

“Look at you,” the nun said. “Such a wanton, sinful creature. But we can make use of that."

“What do you mean?” Shy asked, her voice trembling.

“I'm going to teach you a lesson,” the nun said, her voice hard and commanding. “A lesson in obedience and devotion.”

Shy's mind was racing, her body tingling with anticipation.

“O-okay,” she whispered.

“Good,” the nun said. “Now, I want you to take off your clothes.”

Shy's hands were shaking, her body was shaking. But she did as the nun commanded, slowly peeling off her clothes. Her sweater-top, her silken top, her sweatpants. They were soak in sweat and... and other liquids.

Finally, she was naked, her body on display for the nun.

“Good,” the nun said. “Now , stand with your hands against the wall and your back towards me.”

Shy did as she was told, her hands pressing against the cool wall, her body tense and trembling.

“Now, I want you to spread your legs,” Gomorrah said.

"What are you going to do?" Shy asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“I'm going to punish you,” the nun said.

Shy swallowed, her heart hammering in her chest.

“Okay,” she said.

She could hear the nun moving, the rustle of fabric, and then, something solid and flat was resting against her butt.

“This is for your own good,” Gomorrah said. Then the nun's hand was moving, and the first hit was sharp and painful.

Shy cried out, her body jerking, her eyes watering.

“Repeat after me,” the nun said. “‘I am a wicked girl.’”

“I... I'm a wicked girl,” Shy said.

“Good,” the nun said. The ruler came down, hard, and Shy cried out again.

“I am a wicked girl!”

“Again.”

“I am a wicked girl!” Shy repeated.

“You are a sinner,” the nun said. “You're a temptress, a seducer, a wanton slut.”

“I am a sinner,” Shy said. “I'm a temptress, a seducer, a wanton slut.”

“Again,” she commanded, her voice hard and unyielding.

Shy kept repeating the words, the ruler coming down, the pain building.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore.

“Please, I can't, I can't,” Shy whimpered, her voice breaking. She knew full well that those weren't the words to end the program.

“You can,” the nun said. “And you will.”

Shy's legs were trembling, her body shaking, her hands clawing at the wall.

“No, no more,” she gasped.

“I will not let you get away with your sinful behavior,” the nun said. “You will learn your lesson. You've shown a certain resilience, but I think we can break you.”

Shy braced herself for the next blow, her body tense and trembling. Instead, she felt the nun's hand on her butt, stroking her, caressing her. Then, the nun was pushing inside her. Her fingers, rough and calloused, filled her up.

“Oh,” Shy moaned, her body tensing, her eyes widening even as she climbed to the tips of her toes.

“That's it,” the nun said. “Resist the pleasure.”

Shy couldn't help but let out a shaky breath, her body arching back, her hands clenching. Gomorrah's other hand moved from her behind, down, and between her legs.

She found Shy's clit and began to rub it.

“Oh, God,” Shy moaned.

“Resist the pleasure,” Gomorrah said.

But she couldn't, and her whole body was soon tensing, her thighs tightening, her toes curling.

“I can't,” she gasped.

“You can,” the nun said.

“I'm going to come,” Shy said, her voice a ragged moan.

“You're not allowed. Not until you've learned your lesson.”

Shy couldn't stop it though. The pleasure was too intense, too overwhelming. She was teetering on the edge, her body straining, her mind reeling. Gomorrah didn't stop. Her fingers were moving, her touch expert and knowing. Shy's body was tensing, her mind blanking.

And then, finally, she was coming.

Her whole body was shaking, her voice crying out. It was a release, a moment of pure bliss.

She slumped against the wall, her breath ragged, her body trembling.

“You've been a naughty girl,” the nun said. “I hope you've learned your lesson.”

“Yes,” Shy whispered. “I've been a naughty girl. End program.”

Gomorrah disappeared. Leaving her alone, once again, in her bedroom.

Shy was still panting, her body sore and tingling, her mind a dazed mess.

She couldn't believe what she'd just done. She'd used her coworkers, her friends, in some of the most lewd ways possible. And she'd enjoyed it.

She was a pervert, a degenerate.

But even as shame and guilt washed over her, there was a strange, warm satisfaction too. She'd done something wrong, and it had felt good.

She didn't know what that said about her, but she was too exhausted and blissed out to care.

For a moment, she sat there, just basking in the afterglow. But the feeling soon passed, and she was left with a cold, empty feeling.

She'd used her coworkers. It wasn't real, but they didn't know that. They were just programs. And yet, it felt like she'd violated them.

She was a horrible person.

Slowly, she pushed herself up, her body aching and sore. She needed a shower. That's when she noticed someone standing in the door to her bedroom. Someone who had not been there before.

It was Nya. Nya with tentacle arms.

Shy's throat went dry. “N-nya?”

“Nya Nyan Nya nya,” Nya said, her voice soft and gentle, a contrast to the way her tentacles reached out.

Shy swallowed. “End program,” she whispered, her throat thick with panic.

“Nya, nyan,” Nya said, her voice a low purr, as her tentacles reached out, grabbing and tugging her close.

“End program!” Shy yelled.

“Nyan, Nya Nyan,” Nya said, her face drawing close to her.

“End program!” Shy shouted, her voice rising in pitch and volume.

“Nya, nyan, nya nya,” Nya said, her lips drawing closer, until they were almost touching hers.

“End program!” Shy screamed, and the whole world faded away, replaced by endless, questing tentacles. 

There might have been a few glitches in the machine that needed working out.

***