(DAY 9)
"What the hell— OFF, YOU FUCKING CLANKER! I SAID 'SHUT OFF'!!"
It was another one of those nights. You slumped back in your bed, letting the soft cushions absorb your body.
'Empty' and 'dim' are two words that come to mind when looking at the current state of your bedroom.
Nobody's there but you.
You stare into the dark, empty space in front of you, where you can just barely see the door. You feel cold, your hair still not exactly dry after the shower you had taken. Not even the footsteps of your helperbot can be heard, as you told him to 'power off' for the night.
You were truly, for once, alone.
Your mind ran with various ideas and possibilities for the coming day, a routinely plan coming together inside of your head. You always did this; plan ahead, and hope it distracts you enough.
Enough to suppress the urges.
Each time you gave in, you couldn't help but feel something akin to guilt in your gut afterwards. It wasn't your fault, but you still shamed yourself for it.
Every single time.
"Wake up at seven, go to the store, buy—..."
It all does nothing to help you control yourself. Something that sounds almost like a whine escapes your throat.
"Fuck it... fuck it all..."
You meekly mutter to yourself, one of your legs drifting further apart from the other. The previous feeling of cold is almost instantly overturned by a warm, fuzzy feeling in your gut and below.
As if by instinct, your hand slithers down below the blankets, resting on your lower stomach as you take in the feeling of something familiar practically jutting out of what you had on your lower half.
Breathlessly, you feel like you can't stop. No matter what happens, you feel like you have to finish the job.
The blanket audibly shifts with every up-and-down movement you make, one of your eyes screwed shut, your jaw clenched.
As much as you hated it, you loved it at the same time. As much as you wished you could, you can never deny the fact you loved every second of it.
From your own hand to the darkness of the room, your eyes danced, your legs sweating with exertion. You could feel the air growing more and more musky by the second.
You feel all too lost in the feeling you've subjected yourself to over and over, that it takes you a moment to notice something.
A pair of white, glowing eyes cutting through the darkness, peeking through the slightly ajar door to your room.
Of course, it doesn't take you long to recognize who, or what they belong to. Snatching the blanket over yourself, your heart dropping instantly, eyes blown wide open as you face the bot in the doorway. God only knows how long he's been there.
The embarrassed feeling seems to take over, as you find yourself stunned, unable to reply.
Yet your hand still moves. Slowly, like a machine is controlling your wrist.
"We only wish to watch... continue."
The helperbot speaks up, peeking a little further into the room, where you can just barely see the outline of him. As much as you want to get up, to scream at Null, there's an underlying feeling of tension between you and the moving hunk of metal.
Your forearm and shoulder are beginning to feel a little strained.