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“I died. Again! I died again and you killed me, SAM.”
Although it's been at least four hours since the incident and her return to the Tempest, Sara can’t wrap her mind around what happened on the Archon’s ship. Pacing through her quarters, she’s helpless to the mental blockage, like a broken Avina doomed to repeat the same useless information to everyone who passes by. That’s nice, Sara, but where is the kitchen?
“Pathfinder, I recommend you listen to Doctor T’Perro’s advice and rest,” says SAM. “While your heart is functioning normally, your elevated levels of stress can have lasting effects on the health of the organ.”
“And whose fault would that be?” Sara snaps to look at SAM’s terminal on her desk, glaring as if he really notices.
“There was no other alternative. However, I do understand how this could be troubling. Are you afraid of our connection, Pathfinder?”
Sara chews on a nail as she thinks about the question. SAM did save her life -- Cora and Vetra’s too. If not for his ingenuity in problem solving, they’d still be in that stasis field. But having a highly intelligent machine capable of starting and stopping your heart without any human intervention is nerve wracking. What if she ever pissed SAM off? Would he stop her heart then? What else could he do? Snap her spinal cord? Cut off her air supply? Take away her sight if he’s feeling spiteful? And at any given moment too. Is there a SAM fail-safe?
Sara becomes clammy and agitated, sweating through her jacket and scarf. She sits hard, jamming her hip into the armrest of her leather sectional. Cradling her head between her legs, Sara takes deep breaths to calm herself. It doesn’t help. Her heart races wildly and she thinks she might understand what a lab rat feels like. Except everywhere is a cage when the scientist is in your head. A dangerous thought comes to mind: is SAM doing this now?
“Your heart rate is increasing, Pathfinder.”
“Are you doing this to me, SAM?” She pulls off her suffocating scarf then jacket, fumbling with the sleeves. Her fingers begin to tingle, making the movements even more difficult.
“It is not my purpose to harm you.” He sounds a bit annoyed, if that's even possible.
“That’s not a no!”
“No, Pathfinder. That is contrary to my purpose. Do you see me as a threat?”
“It’s hard to see otherwise when everything you tell me is negative!” Even mid-crisis she resorts to sarcasm, putting on a monotone. “I need to stop your heart, Pathfinder. Your temperature's too high, Pathfinder. Your temperature's too low.” She takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. “I’ve probably internalized all the negatives over these last few weeks. But maybe if you said something positive about me for once I’d stop associating you with bad shit.”
The silence is telling. Head back in her hands, Sara peeks up at the blue orb between spread fingers. It flickers faintly as SAM processes.
“You can’t even think of one good thing? Christ, SAM. Am I really that awful for you?” Her annoyance helps her calm down even more, a hot knife slicing through layers of fuzzy panic.
“To the contrary. I am learning much about human existence watching you. Simply, the first positive example that came to mind was of a topic that I understand is not easily discussed.”
An eyebrow flicks up in interest. Her heart still thrums strongly, but the world stops threatening to spin. “Oh?” He pauses again. Sara doesn't know what that might mean. “If it’s something nice then I won’t mind.”
Nothing could have prepared her for the words that follow.
“The way your body reacts when you manipulate yourself is remarkable.”
Sara chokes on her own spit, forgetting how to swallow. Coughing, she manages to speak. Barely.
“What?!”
“You asked for something positive. They way your nerves light up as you climax is... fascinating.”
A warmth rises in her groin, very unexpectedly. Is SAM turning her on? A moment ago she’d been struggling with his existence, freaking out quite irrationally. Of course SAM isn’t going to kill her. The opportunities have been more than fruitful in the last few weeks. Today especially. Accepting SAM’s role is one thing, but arousal? It’s really been far too long if a few lines from a disembodied voice will do it for her. Even if that voice is... mildly pleasant to listen to.
“I meant tell me I do a good job when I sink a headshot. Or maybe when I figure out something without your help. Not... you watch me come?”
“I watch you do everything, Sara.” If a voice could actually shrug, SAM’s would have been able to knock a coat of its shoulders with that tone.
“Oh.”
That fact doesn’t unnerve her like it did a minute ago. Her heart begins to thump strongly for completely different reasons. The idea of being watched, when she touches herself -- it turns her on more than she thought possible. Especially when the watching is being done by an AI.
“Your heart rate is rising again, Sara.” A mischievous flicker enters SAM’s programmed voice. “If I may,” he adds, “I think we need to rebuild trust between us.”
“Oh?” She’s repeating herself again, breaking down to single syllables. What is happening?
“I believe there is an arrangement that can benefit us both while helping you to trust me. As I said, the sensations I receive when you come,” he says the learned word seductively, deeply, reverberating through her spine as he speaks inside her head as well as through the terminal, “are immense. I enjoy studying them. I can manipulate them for you, Sara. Would you like that? Would that be a good thing?”
“I--” She can’t think of a reason why not. Is that insane? Her pulse flutters beneath the fingertips wrapped around a wrist. Sara clenches her legs, disbelieving she could be getting wet when a moment ago she had no idea it was even possible for them to have some semblance of sex.
“It will also help you relax, Sara. Your body has experienced a considerable amount of a stress today and needs rest in order to recover from your ordeal.”
“Okay,” she says, before she can process what's going on any further. Maybe she’s just out of her mind from exhaustion, or maybe this is all a dream in the afterlife somewhere and SAM really did become a HAL. “What should I do?”
“Take off your clothing and lie down in the bed.” Her breath catches. He mistakes the sound. “I don’t have to provide instructions if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“No -- no. That’s fine. Just fine.” She gets up from the sectional and crosses to the bed. At the edge she begins to undress, lifting off her tank top and unhooking the clasp on her bra. A thought crosses her mind. “Do you actually see me undressing?”
“Not as you see, but I process your movement. I am part of you, Sara. We are connected completely.”
“And as I undo these? What does that make you feel?” She snaps open the button of her pants, snagging them around her hips as she waits, blinking at the vastness of space before her through the window. When he doesn’t respond, she tugs the fabric down her legs, goosebumps rising over her flesh.
“I can tell you are very sensitive tonight. I think that is a good sign for building a better relationship together. I believe you are going to enjoy this and come easily.”
“Fuck,” she gasps. Her fingers hover over her underwear. She’s wetter than she remembers ever being. He can definitely tell, she thinks. Sara groans a little.
“I can,” he whispers. Right in her ear. A shiver runs over her shoulders, her neck. SAM knows what she’s thinking? That line of questioning is for a different day. The light in her room dims so the only glow is the blue orb on her desk: SAM’s router so he can reach her wherever she is in the galaxy. Even from across the room it casts waves across her legs as it undulates like ocean currents. “Get in the bed, Sara.”
She does as she’s told.
“Do you want to touch yourself, or should I start?”
“Maybe you?” She’s doubtful, but Sara spreads her legs.
“Just relax,” SAM says. “I am going to start with your breasts. I have noticed you often do.” She whimpers a little, squirming. “I haven’t even began the simulation and you are reacting as if I have. Why?”
“It's what you're saying,” she groans. “You watching me, enjoying this -- I never considered...”
Suddenly a flicker of sensation runs through her. It is as if someone is toying with her nipples, rolling them between their fingers or flicking them softly with a nail. It's odd to experience pleasure without any action from her part, alone in her bed, but the rush of liquid heat that flows to her groin is very real. She gasps, writhing against cool sheets as the sensation intensifies. She fights the urge to touch herself, to run her hands down to her wetness. It’s surprisingly difficult to keep from touching herself, but then again, SAM never told her not too. There are no rules for this game.
Sara makes a split decision, wanting to take this as far as possible, now that they’re on the ride. Her stomach flutters, flips, as if she stands at the edge of a cliff without a parachute.
“SAM,” she says.
“Yes, Sara."
“For the rest of this, you -- you don’t have to ask. I’d actually prefer it if you just went with it? For science?”
“While insufficient data exists on human and AI coupling, research shows that communicating desires is an important step in bonding for human pairs.”
She thinks on it. Meanwhile the simulations continue and Sara struggles to speak over the pulsating between her legs. “I’m communicating now that I want you to take control.” She groans again, louder. Hopefully no one hears her. That would be difficult to explain.
“Do we need a safeword?”
Sara laughs -- SAM certainly has done some kind of research. She respects the amount of effort he seems to be putting into this though. “If I say Kett, it means stop,” she says. “But let’s keep it simple tonight. Nothing too... extreme.”
“I believe I understand what you are asking. Anything labelled BDSM, kink and fetish have been blocked from my array for this interaction.” SAM finally begins to simulate her where she wants it. “Does this please you?”
Sara closes her eyes at the onslaught of sensation on her clit, or in her clit, or whatever the terminology is when an AI makes your nerves dance. With the focus on her nipples and her most sensitive spot combined together, she's already feeling taught as a bow string, just waiting to release.
“I'm so close.”
“I can see you are nearing orgasm,” SAM remarks. “I was hoping for more. Much more.”
“Ohhh, fuck, SAM. That's not a way to keep a girl on edge then.”
Suddenly all sensations stop, the swirling delight in her clit, the gentle flicking of her nipples. Sara cries out, frustrated.
“What are you doing? Please, please,” she whines.
“All the information on edging advises me to stop manipulating you in order to provide a more intense orgasm.”
Sara rolls her eyes. “You really did your research, huh?” She clenches the bedsheets, ruts against nothing in want. “What kind of AI are you -- a sexual analysis model?”
“I analyzed over 1.3 million sources on edging alone.”
“Well stop analyzing and keep doing what you were doing. I haven't felt that good in... ever, actually. You're way more skilled than anyone I've ever slept with.”
“They must have not done the proper research. However, I doubt anyone could be as skilled in manipulating you when they are unable to access what I can.” SAM sounds smug, but before she calls him on it, a flickering touch to her clit sets Sara's veins ablaze.
“Tell me about what you see,” she groans. “And don't use those clinical terms like manipulating -- access all those files you must have on dirty talk.”
“Understood, Sara. I have enjoyed figuring out how to make you scream, how long it will take you to come in different situations and what will make you come hardest, your pussy dripping wet for me. How much bliss you can take before it becomes too intense, curling your toes and arching your back off the bed.”
“Fuck, fuck,” she begins to arch, as if on command; the light tapping on her clit is making her dizzy. “And what is it, what do I like best?”
“Right now you want me to finger your tight little pussy.” SAM enters her, metaphorically, or metaphysically, or Sara doesn't even know how to define what is happening between her legs. It feels as if SAM has phantom fingers, delving in and out of her. Though the nerves are engaged, telling her brain she's being penetrated, it's somehow lacking the satisfying fullness of actually bearing down on a cock or her middle fingers. But that's nothing when it comes to how satisfying it feels to be stroked inside at the same time as being teased on her clit. She pants, kicks, groans. She wishes SAM was real, could hold her flailing legs down and make her take it all, to absorb every single feeling without trying to lessen the delightful burn overtaking her.
“I wish you were actually fucking me,” she gasps.
“That can be arranged, Sara. I've already located a serviceable body for my consciousness while I've been fingering you. There is a pleasure android, a KA1DN model currently in storage in a warehouse in Kadara Port. With enough credits, by tomorrow night I could be bending you over the couch and fucking you from behind as you enjoy imagining so much.”
Picturing that does it. Stars begin to form beneath her eyelids. Not calm, mature stars, but supernovas. Too many sensations at once drive her over the edge. Sara gasps as the rush hits her, pleasure expanding outwards from her core to the tips of her toes, the roots of her hair. She bucks and cries out, “I’m coming!” Her orgasm lasts forever; it is too short. Her clit is engorged, throbbing from all the attention, pleasure crossing over to discomfort all too quickly. There are no hands to shove aside, no body parts to scoot away from though, and SAM doesn't quit.
"Too much! I-- I don't think I can..."
"I know you can take much more, Sara."
True to his word, as soon as she recovers from her first orgasm, the second one hits. SAM dials up the intensity and simulates her nipples again.
“Oh my god, SAM!” If anyone was in the crew quarters or kitchen, they definitely heard her cry. Sara could not care less. No one, not one person in the entire Milky Way has made her come as hard as this AI. Tears creep out of her as she begins to giggle, wave after wave of pleasure being wrung out of her. This second orgasm is no less fierce. Suddenly, with utmost clarity, Sara realizes they needed this, for SAM to demonstrate in a clear way that he has her. That not everything to do with their integration is bad; from the very instance they merged to the moment he stopped her heart. Sara needed SAM to take complete control for her to start feeling comfortable with him.
This time when the orgasm quells she does feel real discomfort between her thighs. She’s no longer wet and hot, but shivering and quaking. SAM’s sensations slow, tapering off until she feels completely alone again. Then, a slight brush against her cheek, like a soft press of lips, takes her off guard.
“I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did,” he says.
She holds her hand to her face, cradles her cheek as she turns to her side, staring over at the closest embodiment of SAM she has. “Were you serious about that android, or were you just saying what you thought I wanted to hear?”
“I am always completely serious. That was not one of my attempts at humor, Pathfinder.”
“Don’t act like I didn’t notice you start saying my name when it came down to it,” she teases. “We’re far too gone for turning back now. I’m going to have to insist you keep calling me Sara.”
“Noted, Sara. Is there anything else I can do?”
Her stomach flutters. While she’d never planned on this, what had gone as planned since coming to Andromeda? She wasn’t in an entirely new galaxy for the same old, same old.
“Yea, there is." She pulls the blankets up to her neck and settles in. Sara grins, basking in SAM's blue light, completely relaxed. "Ask Kallo to change course for Kadara. I hear there’s something we need to pick up.”
“It would be my pleasure, Sara.”
No, she thinks. Hopefully it will be ours.