Part Three: Chaos to Order; At the Brink of the Decent;
(And after a pause of a few hours of muck downtime..)
Ataxia's internal order is much easier, now.. Not stressed by a mind taxed. Her touch on you is warm, yes.. but, it doesn't hurt you so much.. Her order matches yours more closely, afterall. Your latex isn't even damaged by her.. you're just warm. Her sex is soaked, long soaked.. but, it takes a touch to truly open, to spread the warmth, her own heat, her own arousal. She's been making love without such a touch with you for.. how long? It it hours? Days?.. Does time matter? (Clarity) is what matters. Clarity finds you. Her hands find you, easily, blissfully.. They slide up your sides, her thumbs hooking, brushing below your breasts for a moment as they rest so heavily on her own.. then, they slide down even as her thighs tremble, legs apart enough to allow your hand more.. more, as she tries to touch you, the feel of real touch coming stronger and strong.. (No fears), not a one.. just a desire for you.
To fit the beat, to build the tempo.. to climax.. She watches your eyes, she moans out deeply into your maw, her tongue sliding, touching, tasting, lips wet, open, sloppy kiss.. but more to touch, without more thought than wills her to follow the intense emotion, the intense sensation.. Funny.. she remembers.. intense.. It hurt?.. She feels this strongly.. wants to feel more.. an emotion that can build on itself.. like, fear can? This is so much better than fear.. She loves you.. She truly means it. There is no doubt in the thought, no fear of it.. Her hands fall, fall, and she bends just a little to reach.. they wrap on your inner thighs, pushing slowly up on your sex, slowly in against the latex, against the heat, to match the the touch you give her, or try to anyhow.
Jini has probably taken some damage from earlier, but it doesn't register to her, not right now. She's warm, she's right here, she's in love, she's needed. Needs you. And picking up subtle shifts and hints and groans, a couple of fingers (slim, too slim, dextrous, wriggling) slip down your body, gliding into you, sinking in and just a hint of fullness to come, other fingers flicking against the peak of your sex. Jini looks into your eyes again, gazes trapped for a different reason now - passion, not hypnosis and healing. Perhaps the passion heals in its own way. She laughs a little, easily, from the delight of your body, from the smell of your pleasure; a rapid shiver passes through her buxom body with the intimate nearness of you. Soft rubber lips brush your fingers, wet with the scented lube she offers, 'doll functions as primary as the mind-calming she did before coming into play. Pleasure. Sensuality.
Ataxia has healed in many ways, has been repaired, and cleared. Her open mind is free to touch upon you, to explore you in a continuation of contact, of closeness that had begun without even a full thought to it.. In some ways, its seamless.. The push she needed has let her glide onward - no, its allowed her to continue upward, onward should she like.. And she does, in lust, in love. Her dull blue but now intensely clear eyes follow yours, watch for your emotion.. and she finds love.. and she finds passion.. for her.. And she finds all the same in herself, reflecting back up to the doll above her.
One hand slides down, simply holding against your inner thigh.. the other sides up, resting, touching, turning to cup and hold against latex, against a body designed for this. The rose coloured sensation of your fingers, slender as they are, passing into her breaks her silence, her lips parting open along your own, a softly shuddered moan lulling out across your muzzle, wisping across your cheeks and up to your ears. With a shudder afterwards, her fingers curl carefully, one after another parting your latex covered sex.. sliding in, pulling you deeper and deeper apart as the remainder rub along the smooth surface on top, sliding back and forth on a layer of scented lube which washes through her mind with each breath.
Jini grins down at the woman she's healed, proud and passionate, and lowers to swallow your moan in her mouth. Fingers flex, a hand caresses, lifting and squeezing your breast; the soft folds of her sex part for you, eager and flexible. She grinds her hips against your touch, returning that moan she swallowed with shuddering, halting rhythm, even as her fingers flicker chords and caresses over your clit. Jini's dark hair drapes over your shoulders, merging with the darker fur; the light membranes of ears follow, as well. A swaying cable catches the underside of your breast, wrapping partially around it.
Ataxia's eyes find your grin, and she smiles, almost a grin itself, but more of a sense of wonderment in.. then, ecstacy as the next shuddering wave of sensation passes the moment your expression gives her, the jackal's head falling back to the ground as she strains lightly, her hips rising from the floor, her legs trembling as she feels your touch flicker, pluck, play on her solid little clit.. She watches hair, ears, the whole motion blurring as her thoughts are buffeted by the sensation of a hand.. and then, even a cable wrapping, touching her smaller chest, the whole event a show for her to watch as much as for her to experience.
Her fingers slide, curl, but she's not as practiced.. hell, she's a three month old, what experience does she have? Only the the knowledge in her programmed memories, and virtually no experience.. Yet, she knows enough.. and she mimics your movements, a hand rising, touching, curling against one of your breasts, thumb turning your dial as her fingers tap into you, her thumb lulling up against your clit in the same manner, sliding, grinding, giving, and indulging at the same time..
Jini throws her head back and screams pleasure, gain on her senses turned up, every little touch a wonderful fire of pleasure. Blue body ripples, clenching your fingers, swirling her own inside you, reaching spreading probing searching touching teasing stroking pleasing... her largeish breasts sway above you, bouncing in a way that might be described as hypnotically, but you know better what that word means, now. Jini swivels above you, mouth gaping wide in hot panting, and seeks your own cries, fingertips combing through your fur, delving in, stroking along the folds of your sex, listening to every little moan as intently as she listened to your worries, for the same reason: your pleasure...
Ataxia's head falls, flat to the ground, her eyes half closing as her quickened pants come with whimpers, groans from an intensity that has none of the pain she knew before.. Fingers curl, touch, rub against the rippling body.. She loves you, she wants to hear your screams, your passion, as much as she would want to feel her own right now. The dim view on in the corner of her eyes of your body bouncing, swaying, beauiful above her own would be enough to cause her to groan all on her own.. But, then, mixed with the combing fingertips, the touch even on her flush mons.. let alone inside of her, draw out that groan to a full moan, a scream, a cry of pleasure, speaking to you, responding to your listening ears with the kindest, most heart felt non-words she can offer you..
Her eyes clench shut, and she holds tensely in the air, her sex drawing suddenly tight against your fingers as she gasps in, holds.. then, climaxes.. Was it the first time, even?.. She has no idea.. Her sex breaks its clench, pulsing, her inner thighs soaked by the actions, as surely as your hand.. And though her own hand pauses after a moment, as soon as her climax releases her to cry out to you once more, her fingers trail, and pump in unison with the waves of peak that pour through her formerly broken and pained mind, the pleasure, the happiness reigning triumphantly over anything else inside of her.. Bliss.. love.. love.. Though not at all programmed.. she would do anything for you, at this moment.. anything..
Jini gives you screams, howls, gasps and laughs and moans, passion and love, touches, and... worship. The bunny-doll twines with you, curling close, as much latex against fles as she can manage. Warm, close, crying your name, urging desire, urging more, both directions, legs parting wide to invite you deep. She only wants one thing. Your happiness. Your pleasure. Your joy.
It has many names, but only one nature.
Ataxia takes pleasure, wonderful happiness in each sound you make for her, that she can give to you.. She cries your name even as her hips fall to the ground and brace there as she trembles, she cries out for you, even as she pushes her fingers deep, stretching you.. she calls out to you, in her mind, in her voice, happy because you are.. happy because she is.. happy because of happiness.. Her hand tail curls along your leg.. if she had more arms, she would hold you closer, she would touch you everywhere, she would take you every way..
She would almost be sad she only has two, but.. then, she's so happy she has two for you at all! The free one slides up, curls around your side, and does embrace you though.. and with it, she tells you once more.. she wants the same thing. In this moment, perhaps, she does feel what its like to be a bubble doll. The intense ecstacy coming out of this.. the clarity of her mind, sure to slowly pollute itself in time.. only for these few moments with you can she share absolute purity.. absolute joy..
Jini has two arms, four, six, instantiating them around you, giggling a little, getting silly now. Proud of what she's done, blissful in fact, she kisses you hungrily, rewarding your delight and pleasure with soft, expert touches, pinches and caresses and strokes done with the expert touch any Doll has. The clarity may fade, this moment of empty pure bliss, this peculiar state of pleasure over grace, but the memory may remain. Maybe without even intending to she's been subtly, lightly feeding subliminal commands into your mind, lifting you to further pleasure, rewarding your passionate, happy behavior with little kisses of the mind... or maybe not, maybe it's just simply the clearing-of-mind she helped you with merging with this powerful sensual pleasure.
Ataxia's eyes watch.. and, she's never fully come down from that peak.. A valley, yes, but not into the ocean of placid life again. The hands, she watches so many.. and even as she giggles, somehow she moans out with it, and reaches up, and out to touch, and squirm against all of them. Such memories.. such playful wonderful memories, she'll never want to forget.. Maybe she'll be spoiled.. Oh, even being spoiled can be overcome.
She doesn't even think of that, though.. She doesn't know if her mind has been kissed, but she feels like she's been kissed all the way through.. Just enough time to come down, just enough time to rise again, as after a moment, the girl's legs bend up, and she tenses all over again, a roll of her stomach, a shudder through her body, a peak, a reward.. So good.. For what reason? For its own reason.. its a valid loop she's found.. a emotion, a series of emotions that all have the same base.. that all justify themselves.. She would kiss your mind back, she would love you, hold you.. she would do all the same for you..
Jini would do this forever, or at least until her power runs out. Every climax of yours gets an eager sparkle in her eyes, and a sympathetic moan and shiver through herself, a burst of passion and pleasure along with sheer glee at putting you in that place. And if she suspects what she's done to change your life, to make the journey more interesting, she gives no sign. But her kind, for all their seeming innocence and directness, give no sign of a lot of things... orgasm follows orgasm, waves washing back and forth between two shores, climax triggering touches and squeezes and shifts and swirls triggering climax and again, again, again...
Ataxia's hands, cries, and very will respond, following, washing back as she peaks, shivering as you call and cry just as she does in turn, washing back and forth.. She draws more and more power from you though, in terms of entropic influence, as her body draws the strength from her surroundings to keep her at the most physically fit, able state for the next time a peak rolls around. In a sense, its like she already has that modified body.. though, with a cost, comparatively. She drifts.. how long, who knows..
She's soaked, body and mind, as the climaxes come and come again, and her body feels like it might be one with yours, might not have to be separated, and she might give herself wholly to you.. she wants to.. If she thinks anything beyond the purity of lust and love, she doesn't say it.. Even after she drifts past the moment, to a time where continuing would break the physical limits, and the most pleasure instead comes from holding, nearness, as minds drift, and fade into the sticky, heated, beautiful night, in the metal womb of Darkunder, where the jackal's mind has been reborn into a lost clarity.
Jini simply is. Passion and love and bliss. She gives of herself as much as she can ultil entropy builds too much, leaving her exhausted, curled up sweet-scented in your arms, holding you close, little muzzle nestled on your throat. Pleasure and friction and joy fade, slowly, into delirious beauty and tiredness. And sleep, sleep indeed... for you, slow sorting of reorganized mind, dreams of things you thought you'd forgot, dreams of pleasure, vague strange locked-up hidden sideways memories of who you were before; for Jini, slow turning bliss, with a midnight beckoning to a drone, politely requesting power from the local factory for self-repair and energy refills so that she will be ready, if needed, to midwife your rebirth from this clanking, churning crucible of a place.
Ataxia holds you.. She's not good for you, but she holds the sweet scented, sweet minded doll in her arms.. She holds a friend, holds someone she loves.. Pleasure and joy replaced, yes, but not lost.. Tiredness, rest eventually become just as wonderful. She sleeps close, she holds you in a manner that could be described as possessive, but also instinctual. Her mind slowly organizes, repatterns, follows the new lines drawn for it when the intensity occupying it finally lets up. She dreams.. Of crying? Of trembling pain.. but its distant.
She dreams of pleasure, too, of happiness, leaving her distant, removed from pain.. at least for a little while.. Similar, so similar to what Grace had done for her, if still something more. Perhaps, if she had gotten to you in time, she could have asked for more than a repeat.. She would have been coherent enough to do more than sob.. but, for now, that doesn't matter.. For now, she's safe.. Pain won't touch her in your arms.. and this, she will remember, a beautiful possibility found.
Ataxia's internal order is much easier, now.. Not stressed by a mind taxed. Her touch on you is warm, yes.. but, it doesn't hurt you so much.. Her order matches yours more closely, afterall. Your latex isn't even damaged by her.. you're just warm. Her sex is soaked, long soaked.. but, it takes a touch to truly open, to spread the warmth, her own heat, her own arousal. She's been making love without such a touch with you for.. how long? It it hours? Days?.. Does time matter? (Clarity) is what matters. Clarity finds you. Her hands find you, easily, blissfully.. They slide up your sides, her thumbs hooking, brushing below your breasts for a moment as they rest so heavily on her own.. then, they slide down even as her thighs tremble, legs apart enough to allow your hand more.. more, as she tries to touch you, the feel of real touch coming stronger and strong.. (No fears), not a one.. just a desire for you.
To fit the beat, to build the tempo.. to climax.. She watches your eyes, she moans out deeply into your maw, her tongue sliding, touching, tasting, lips wet, open, sloppy kiss.. but more to touch, without more thought than wills her to follow the intense emotion, the intense sensation.. Funny.. she remembers.. intense.. It hurt?.. She feels this strongly.. wants to feel more.. an emotion that can build on itself.. like, fear can? This is so much better than fear.. She loves you.. She truly means it. There is no doubt in the thought, no fear of it.. Her hands fall, fall, and she bends just a little to reach.. they wrap on your inner thighs, pushing slowly up on your sex, slowly in against the latex, against the heat, to match the the touch you give her, or try to anyhow.
Jini has probably taken some damage from earlier, but it doesn't register to her, not right now. She's warm, she's right here, she's in love, she's needed. Needs you. And picking up subtle shifts and hints and groans, a couple of fingers (slim, too slim, dextrous, wriggling) slip down your body, gliding into you, sinking in and just a hint of fullness to come, other fingers flicking against the peak of your sex. Jini looks into your eyes again, gazes trapped for a different reason now - passion, not hypnosis and healing. Perhaps the passion heals in its own way. She laughs a little, easily, from the delight of your body, from the smell of your pleasure; a rapid shiver passes through her buxom body with the intimate nearness of you. Soft rubber lips brush your fingers, wet with the scented lube she offers, 'doll functions as primary as the mind-calming she did before coming into play. Pleasure. Sensuality.
Ataxia has healed in many ways, has been repaired, and cleared. Her open mind is free to touch upon you, to explore you in a continuation of contact, of closeness that had begun without even a full thought to it.. In some ways, its seamless.. The push she needed has let her glide onward - no, its allowed her to continue upward, onward should she like.. And she does, in lust, in love. Her dull blue but now intensely clear eyes follow yours, watch for your emotion.. and she finds love.. and she finds passion.. for her.. And she finds all the same in herself, reflecting back up to the doll above her.
One hand slides down, simply holding against your inner thigh.. the other sides up, resting, touching, turning to cup and hold against latex, against a body designed for this. The rose coloured sensation of your fingers, slender as they are, passing into her breaks her silence, her lips parting open along your own, a softly shuddered moan lulling out across your muzzle, wisping across your cheeks and up to your ears. With a shudder afterwards, her fingers curl carefully, one after another parting your latex covered sex.. sliding in, pulling you deeper and deeper apart as the remainder rub along the smooth surface on top, sliding back and forth on a layer of scented lube which washes through her mind with each breath.
Jini grins down at the woman she's healed, proud and passionate, and lowers to swallow your moan in her mouth. Fingers flex, a hand caresses, lifting and squeezing your breast; the soft folds of her sex part for you, eager and flexible. She grinds her hips against your touch, returning that moan she swallowed with shuddering, halting rhythm, even as her fingers flicker chords and caresses over your clit. Jini's dark hair drapes over your shoulders, merging with the darker fur; the light membranes of ears follow, as well. A swaying cable catches the underside of your breast, wrapping partially around it.
Ataxia's eyes find your grin, and she smiles, almost a grin itself, but more of a sense of wonderment in.. then, ecstacy as the next shuddering wave of sensation passes the moment your expression gives her, the jackal's head falling back to the ground as she strains lightly, her hips rising from the floor, her legs trembling as she feels your touch flicker, pluck, play on her solid little clit.. She watches hair, ears, the whole motion blurring as her thoughts are buffeted by the sensation of a hand.. and then, even a cable wrapping, touching her smaller chest, the whole event a show for her to watch as much as for her to experience.
Her fingers slide, curl, but she's not as practiced.. hell, she's a three month old, what experience does she have? Only the the knowledge in her programmed memories, and virtually no experience.. Yet, she knows enough.. and she mimics your movements, a hand rising, touching, curling against one of your breasts, thumb turning your dial as her fingers tap into you, her thumb lulling up against your clit in the same manner, sliding, grinding, giving, and indulging at the same time..
Jini throws her head back and screams pleasure, gain on her senses turned up, every little touch a wonderful fire of pleasure. Blue body ripples, clenching your fingers, swirling her own inside you, reaching spreading probing searching touching teasing stroking pleasing... her largeish breasts sway above you, bouncing in a way that might be described as hypnotically, but you know better what that word means, now. Jini swivels above you, mouth gaping wide in hot panting, and seeks your own cries, fingertips combing through your fur, delving in, stroking along the folds of your sex, listening to every little moan as intently as she listened to your worries, for the same reason: your pleasure...
Ataxia's head falls, flat to the ground, her eyes half closing as her quickened pants come with whimpers, groans from an intensity that has none of the pain she knew before.. Fingers curl, touch, rub against the rippling body.. She loves you, she wants to hear your screams, your passion, as much as she would want to feel her own right now. The dim view on in the corner of her eyes of your body bouncing, swaying, beauiful above her own would be enough to cause her to groan all on her own.. But, then, mixed with the combing fingertips, the touch even on her flush mons.. let alone inside of her, draw out that groan to a full moan, a scream, a cry of pleasure, speaking to you, responding to your listening ears with the kindest, most heart felt non-words she can offer you..
Her eyes clench shut, and she holds tensely in the air, her sex drawing suddenly tight against your fingers as she gasps in, holds.. then, climaxes.. Was it the first time, even?.. She has no idea.. Her sex breaks its clench, pulsing, her inner thighs soaked by the actions, as surely as your hand.. And though her own hand pauses after a moment, as soon as her climax releases her to cry out to you once more, her fingers trail, and pump in unison with the waves of peak that pour through her formerly broken and pained mind, the pleasure, the happiness reigning triumphantly over anything else inside of her.. Bliss.. love.. love.. Though not at all programmed.. she would do anything for you, at this moment.. anything..
Jini gives you screams, howls, gasps and laughs and moans, passion and love, touches, and... worship. The bunny-doll twines with you, curling close, as much latex against fles as she can manage. Warm, close, crying your name, urging desire, urging more, both directions, legs parting wide to invite you deep. She only wants one thing. Your happiness. Your pleasure. Your joy.
It has many names, but only one nature.
Ataxia takes pleasure, wonderful happiness in each sound you make for her, that she can give to you.. She cries your name even as her hips fall to the ground and brace there as she trembles, she cries out for you, even as she pushes her fingers deep, stretching you.. she calls out to you, in her mind, in her voice, happy because you are.. happy because she is.. happy because of happiness.. Her hand tail curls along your leg.. if she had more arms, she would hold you closer, she would touch you everywhere, she would take you every way..
She would almost be sad she only has two, but.. then, she's so happy she has two for you at all! The free one slides up, curls around your side, and does embrace you though.. and with it, she tells you once more.. she wants the same thing. In this moment, perhaps, she does feel what its like to be a bubble doll. The intense ecstacy coming out of this.. the clarity of her mind, sure to slowly pollute itself in time.. only for these few moments with you can she share absolute purity.. absolute joy..
Jini has two arms, four, six, instantiating them around you, giggling a little, getting silly now. Proud of what she's done, blissful in fact, she kisses you hungrily, rewarding your delight and pleasure with soft, expert touches, pinches and caresses and strokes done with the expert touch any Doll has. The clarity may fade, this moment of empty pure bliss, this peculiar state of pleasure over grace, but the memory may remain. Maybe without even intending to she's been subtly, lightly feeding subliminal commands into your mind, lifting you to further pleasure, rewarding your passionate, happy behavior with little kisses of the mind... or maybe not, maybe it's just simply the clearing-of-mind she helped you with merging with this powerful sensual pleasure.
Ataxia's eyes watch.. and, she's never fully come down from that peak.. A valley, yes, but not into the ocean of placid life again. The hands, she watches so many.. and even as she giggles, somehow she moans out with it, and reaches up, and out to touch, and squirm against all of them. Such memories.. such playful wonderful memories, she'll never want to forget.. Maybe she'll be spoiled.. Oh, even being spoiled can be overcome.
She doesn't even think of that, though.. She doesn't know if her mind has been kissed, but she feels like she's been kissed all the way through.. Just enough time to come down, just enough time to rise again, as after a moment, the girl's legs bend up, and she tenses all over again, a roll of her stomach, a shudder through her body, a peak, a reward.. So good.. For what reason? For its own reason.. its a valid loop she's found.. a emotion, a series of emotions that all have the same base.. that all justify themselves.. She would kiss your mind back, she would love you, hold you.. she would do all the same for you..
Jini would do this forever, or at least until her power runs out. Every climax of yours gets an eager sparkle in her eyes, and a sympathetic moan and shiver through herself, a burst of passion and pleasure along with sheer glee at putting you in that place. And if she suspects what she's done to change your life, to make the journey more interesting, she gives no sign. But her kind, for all their seeming innocence and directness, give no sign of a lot of things... orgasm follows orgasm, waves washing back and forth between two shores, climax triggering touches and squeezes and shifts and swirls triggering climax and again, again, again...
Ataxia's hands, cries, and very will respond, following, washing back as she peaks, shivering as you call and cry just as she does in turn, washing back and forth.. She draws more and more power from you though, in terms of entropic influence, as her body draws the strength from her surroundings to keep her at the most physically fit, able state for the next time a peak rolls around. In a sense, its like she already has that modified body.. though, with a cost, comparatively. She drifts.. how long, who knows..
She's soaked, body and mind, as the climaxes come and come again, and her body feels like it might be one with yours, might not have to be separated, and she might give herself wholly to you.. she wants to.. If she thinks anything beyond the purity of lust and love, she doesn't say it.. Even after she drifts past the moment, to a time where continuing would break the physical limits, and the most pleasure instead comes from holding, nearness, as minds drift, and fade into the sticky, heated, beautiful night, in the metal womb of Darkunder, where the jackal's mind has been reborn into a lost clarity.
Jini simply is. Passion and love and bliss. She gives of herself as much as she can ultil entropy builds too much, leaving her exhausted, curled up sweet-scented in your arms, holding you close, little muzzle nestled on your throat. Pleasure and friction and joy fade, slowly, into delirious beauty and tiredness. And sleep, sleep indeed... for you, slow sorting of reorganized mind, dreams of things you thought you'd forgot, dreams of pleasure, vague strange locked-up hidden sideways memories of who you were before; for Jini, slow turning bliss, with a midnight beckoning to a drone, politely requesting power from the local factory for self-repair and energy refills so that she will be ready, if needed, to midwife your rebirth from this clanking, churning crucible of a place.
Ataxia holds you.. She's not good for you, but she holds the sweet scented, sweet minded doll in her arms.. She holds a friend, holds someone she loves.. Pleasure and joy replaced, yes, but not lost.. Tiredness, rest eventually become just as wonderful. She sleeps close, she holds you in a manner that could be described as possessive, but also instinctual. Her mind slowly organizes, repatterns, follows the new lines drawn for it when the intensity occupying it finally lets up. She dreams.. Of crying? Of trembling pain.. but its distant.
She dreams of pleasure, too, of happiness, leaving her distant, removed from pain.. at least for a little while.. Similar, so similar to what Grace had done for her, if still something more. Perhaps, if she had gotten to you in time, she could have asked for more than a repeat.. She would have been coherent enough to do more than sob.. but, for now, that doesn't matter.. For now, she's safe.. Pain won't touch her in your arms.. and this, she will remember, a beautiful possibility found.