FYOP/Scenario Chamber/A Night at the Opera/0267
You kiss the Queen of the Night’s frigid lips and she emits a muffled protest, snapping back with a stunned expression. After a moment she recovers, her eyes narrowing in a sultry gaze as she straightens, the action hefting the ice-blue cleavage of her rope-trussed bosom high. “Untie me,” she purrs, “and perhaps you and I-“
You pull her midnight black dress down from her bust, her pale breasts and sapphire nipples popping free with a cascade of cold mist. You bury your face in that frigid valley, the Queen gasping, and soon writhing against you.
Taking the moaning Queen by the waist, you rejoin Pamina and Sarastra, both robots now slick with artificial sweat and partially disrobed, their urgent mutual caresses marred by mechanical tics. Pushing the moaning and topless Queen between them, the Princess and Priestess begin to lavish her breasts with attention, the Queen’s head tilting back as she begins a wordless aria.
You lift her dark, sequined dress over her pale legs, her pert buttocks bisected by a black lace thong. Slipping it free, the Queen glances back at you and arches her back, her voice ringing out, “A man like you can best console a mother’s grief-stricken heart…”
The Queen’s chilled insides warm with your entry, the perpetual chill surrounding her evaporating as she begins to buck her hips, pumping you firmly as Pamina and Sarastra caress her, each other, and you, all three droids now entwined with you, the sound of unmaintained electrical and mechanical components building amongst them with electrical pops and straining servos.