Power Girl's Boy Toy update

Two Amazas burst into the room like feminine wrecking balls. 

Hiro had no powers, no training, not even particularly good reflexes. So it was a testament to how fast and strong the Amazas were that the women—all successful supercriminals and superheroes—fared no better than he did, with not even the clothes on his back to protect him.

Karen was the first to react, instantly throwing herself up off the bed and confronting the Amaza in the lead. She bulled herself against it, but in her headstrong rush, she’d acted before realizing they were Amazos, or at least Amazo-adjacent. 

“They absorb powers!” she cried in warning, but both Amazas, each with the equivalent of her strength, piled onto her and flung her through the wall.

Selina and Harley took one look at each other and tried to flee, making for the exit without even trying to dress themselves. An Amaza intercepted them there and locked each of them in one arm, holding them tight no matter how hard they struggled.

Terra reached out to the concrete walls, ripping chunks out of them that shot into the other Amaza. They staggered her for a moment, then she had Terra’s power—freezing the rock in mid-air. The Amaza holding Selina and Harley absorbed Atlee’s power as well. And with Terra’s own power turned back on her, doubled, virtually the entire room was ripped off of its rebar and slammed into Atlee, imprisoning her within a rocky sarcophagus.

“Haa!” Karen cried, flinging herself back into battle. She shattered the one-woman prison with a mighty blow, then charged the Amaza with her hands free. The two careened out of the room—Atlee made to follow them, but the Amaza with Selina and Harley kicked her in the back, a Power Girl-level blow knocking her out before she had a chance to recover. Then that Amaza finished choking out Selina and Harley, letting them slump to the ground unconscious, before turning on Hiro.

I can’t believe it, Hiro thought, I really am going to be destroyed by my own creation gone wrong like some kind of mad scientist—cool!

Amaza’s eyes fixed on his cock, still slimy from shooting enough jism to drown any one of his four sexual partners—and at the sight of it, her programming clicked into place, reforging the neural networking that had previously lain dormant and overriding the current faulty mission directive that was directing the robot’s actions.

There was an obvious, almost self-evident reason why this model of Amazo had been built in the form of a splendidly curved woman with attractive facial features. In fact, its creation had predicted a meme that would only originate long after it was consigned to storage—“What kind of idiot would make a robot you can’t fuck?”

Of course, that program had been designed for ‘afterhours,’ so to speak, but the patchwork repairs Hiro himself had done on the Amaza now practically provided a ground wire… instead of the short-circuiting rampage that most artificial life is prone to when malfunctioning, the computer mind seized on this legitimate programming, almost entering a dream world where it was not looking at a strange man who happened to be naked, but her master’s cock, presented to her in the full expectation that she would service it. And Amaza knew exactly how to do that.

Moving with a sudden feline ease that belied the mechanical bluntness she had previously displayed, Amaza showed off every curve and lovingly developed muscle in her statuesque body as she closed the remaining distance between herself and Hiro, stopping in front of him as a sinuously flowing river would puddle against a dam. 

She ran her palm down the sides of her body, starting at the bold ripeness of her cleavage and moving downwards to accentuate the slimness of her trim waist and then the womanly flare of her shapely hips. At her thighs, they crossed inward, covering her groin—and then it was inescapable that she was essentially naked. The stripes that supposedly censored her nudity were just her computerized skin changing color—and like a magic trick, after Amaza had covered herself, those stripes changed to flesh tones, indistinguishable from real skin.

Amaza trailed her hands upward, displaying her hairless cunt, and although Hiro was enthralled by that sudden reveal, something about the way Amaza moved her hands pulled his eyes along, his head coming up like a moth following a light. He watched as Amaza took her breasts in her hands, squeezing them, massaging them, moaning with autoerotic enjoyment as if nothing in the world could bring her more joy than this masturbatory touch. Yet she also eyed him with desperation, like somehow he could offer her more, his fingers would feel even better and please her still more. 

Hiro’s eyes were wide enough to make a joke of his Asian heritage, but his limp manhood looked like it wouldn’t revive for another ten years. 

Amaza shoved him onto his ass upon the bed—the fight had been over so quickly that he’d had no time to do more than stand up from it—and with him sitting down, she stood over him, her womanhood only inches from his face, her legs almost straddling his bent knees. Hiro was paralyzed with indecision and confusion… not knowing what she was doing, what was going to happen, if he should try to escape or even if he could escape. But his curiosity outweighed his panic; or perhaps it was his lust.

Either way, Amaza moved for him.

Only her hips moved at first—rocking with demure slowness from side to side, sending ripples through the rest of her bare body, but no more than a quiver. Then the movement picked up speed and complexity. She would send her hips forward with a thrust of her pelvis, then roll them back around—the classic penduluming moves of a stripper with her hands at her head, somehow hotter with her arms mechanically still at her sides. After a minute of build-up, Amaza was rocking her hips and jerking them and swaying them, bumping and grinding, rolling her body as if she were fucking herself against some invisible cock.

Hiro couldn’t help but think she was signaling what she wanted to do to him.

Every little drive of her hips sent her pubis snapping towards Hiro’s face, where his jaw was slowly dropping like it was all one big clockwork mechanism in operation. Amaza could see Hiro’s nostrils flaring, even see the reflection of her pussy in his eyes, and knew that he was excited even if that excitement hadn’t reached his crotch. 

Still sliding her hips around, Amaza repeated the travel of her hands down her body. This time when she drew her hands away from her pussy, they were dripping with effusive lubrication—so indistinguishable from a woman’s juices that they smelled exactly the same.

Then Amaza lowered herself backward, as if she were passing underneath a limbo pole, her torso going lower and lower, while her hips continued to pump, going up now, offering her cunt even more continuously to Hiro, showing him the pink wetness that she meant him to use. She moved in synchronization with the beat of his heating blood and the pulse of his growing excitement, as if she were less an independent entity and really a manifestation of his own lust, existing only to please the young man. And indeed, if the android could be said to be thinking, she was thinking Eat me. Just come to me and lick my cunt.

But despite the complete, wanton abandonment of Amaza’s pose, Hiro was immobile, stunned silent—as if, with all his body’s energy trying to reinvigorate his fallen erection, none of the rest of him could move at all.

Amaza went back lower and lower, until even she had to put her arms back to hold herself up, forming a human bridge. She parted her legs, wide, wider, and with every step she moved her feet to the sides, she eased herself forward as well, until she was touching her cunt to Hiro’s shin. There she worked her hips up and down, rubbing herself against him. She let her face show intense lust—eyes closing, expression slackening, lush lips parting, and her tongue flicking out in pink flashes to brighten the soft red of her lips.

Her strokes grew quicker. She rubbed her swollen labia against Hiro’s leg, letting him feel the abundant moisture of her simulated arousal. Soon, she wasn’t moving up and down at all, but back and forth, fucking herself against his shin. But still his cock showed no sign of life.

There was one thing left to do: Amaza undulated back up, coming out of the maneuver reaching out to push Hiro back. He was too weak not to comply, not that there was anything he could’ve done at full strength, and he lay on his back with his cock down between his thighs, Amaza kneeling over it.

She bent down and licked at his groin. His cock seemed to twitch, but it was over too fast for Amaza to be sure. She did notice Hiro prop himself up on his elbows to watch her work.

A new subroutine sprouted within Amaza. Oftentimes, a human could find it as or more arousing to watch his partner than to be touched. And so, Amaza resolved to give him the show he desired. She kissed his knee, and licked her way from it to his upper thigh. Then she opened his legs with her hands to move her tongue down between them, licking his sensitive inner thigh, closer and closer to his scrotum.

Now she knew that his prick had moved.

Amaza’s tongue roamed freely over Hiro’s lap, licking clean the cream of the earlier women and the cum he had already spurted. She went to his balls last, slowing the strokes of her tongue so that each lick took much longer. Hiro sucked in a juddering breath as he felt the tip of her tongue move between his balls, following the crease of his scrotum. His testes seemed to weakly throb and his cock lengthened a little, fresh blood whirling inside it.

Amaza was encouraged, tirelessly licking away, cleaning away all evidence of the orgy Hiro had been in. She could feel Hiro’s balls jerking, pumping within the slowly tightening sac of his scrotum. She was getting to him, but in so much as Amaza could be said to want anything, she wanted him erect now, as soon as possible, and she would do anything to get what she—what he wanted.

She opened her mouth and gulped one of Hiro’s balls inside, followed by the other one—but, with her mouth full, she could not continue ministering to Hiro’s erection with her tongue. She slurped her way off of his scrotum, lifting her head over his groin and slinging her hair behind her ears to give Hiro a perfect view of her work. She knew that seeing her beautiful face lowered in worship to his manhood was arousing him immensely. And so she dropped her tongue into his sparse pubic hair, moving its tip around the base of his cock, then tracing it up his thick shaft. Amaza could actually feel hot blood pumping through the veins that ran along Hiro’s length, and each little throb of growing arousal pleased her in ways that it was hard for the machine to quantify. 

She worked her tongue along his length, relishing the way hardness and arousal followed her laving strokes. His cock was pulsing and stiffening readily now, lifting its engorged knob up from his thigh as if seeking her succulent lips. But Amaza would not give him those, not yet. She would arouse him to the utmost, not just get him off.

When Amaza had reached his cockhead, she took one hand and wrapped thumb and forefinger around his glans, lifting his knob up to expose the underside of his length. She moved down it,

fastidiously lavishing his cock with her manufactured saliva, not missing a square inch of his warming flesh. When she reached his balls, she found them engorged with new life, and almost feverishly she licked the newly exposed flesh, his balls jerking as if in dance with her trickling tongue. Hiro was groaning, sighing, giving every indication of heated arousal except for his cock growing more than half-hard.

She went back up his length in a series of sucking kisses. When she reached his helmet again, she did the same to it, sliding her lips over the pulsing knob and sucking it into her mouth. Her lips fastened around the glans and then she sucked greedily, her cheeks hollowing out as she serviced Hiro.

Hiro’s ass came up off the mattress, his hips jerking, his legs kicking haplessly. He moaned, but that only spurred Amaza on, and she bobbed her head up and down his length, now using her hand as well. She cupped his oversized balls in her palm, squeezing them with a care that verged on hardness, enough to add yet another note of excitement to Hiro’s gathering arousal.

Hiro moaned dismally and let himself drop back against the mattress. His fall almost made Amaza lose her hold on his prick before she followed it down, swallowing his cock all over again. Locks of her inky black hair spilled over his midsection with their rearrangement, flowing like hot oil down between his legs and around his waist and up his sternum. It felt like silk swirling around his balls, buffeted by her gripping fingers, teasing him even more, urging for still more of his engorging—and Hiro felt himself growing helplessly harder.

Amaza too felt the throbbing reaction going from his scrotum to meet the pressure of her mouth—her teeth scoring slightly into the stiffening flesh, finding it resistant. She let go of his balls and moved her hands under his ass, squeezing his buttocks, pulling him tighter against her face. His breath sped up, his cock now throbbing heartily, pushing down her gullet as it grew and grew.

Finally, she pulled herself off of it, leaving him on the verge of coming—his prick pounding harder with every inch that left her mouth, the cockhead dripping precum and beating like a drum. “You are ready to fuck,” she announced without even pausing for breath, speaking into his cock as though it were a microphone. “You will fuck me and come inside me.”

His tangling fingers pulled at her hair, leaving his nearly bursting cock behind to draw her up his body. “Yes, I’m going to fuck you! I’m going to fuck the shit out of you!”

His hands clawed into her shoulders, twisting her body underneath his, and she twisted and squirmed to open herself up to his cock, letting it into her without delay.