It had been several days since Doug had first caught Wheatley using his charger for nefarious and deviant purposes. Several days since he had, for some unknown and probably insane reason, agreed to mentor Wheatley on sexual activities.

For the first two days, the bot had been completely insufferable. Always tagging behind him, prodding him and asking to be stimulated in the dirtiest of ways. Doug had only put up with it for two days because he was busy, always always busy. The walls whispered to him of Her activities, the tiles condescending and the support struts pitying. He hated it, hated how the eyeless walls watched him in his memories and poisoned his thoughts.

So for two days, Doug ignored Wheatley's begging pleas to have that heavenly charger jack plugged into his port. Two days in which Doug worked and painted and babbled to himself, shouting the insanities of the fallen and the forgotten and the ascended. And at the end of the second day, he fell into fitful sleep on a cot curled against the chattering android.

Doug awoke on the third day to an insistent object prodding him in the back. It took him a moment to realize what it was and who was pressed against him, and when he realized Wheatley's prick was pressed against his lab coat he let out a world weary sigh. Doug pushed himself upright into a sitting position on the cot, and then pulled his legs up before swinging them around onto the floor. He stood slowly, popping his back with a groan of discomfort. He was getting on in years; his body wasn't what it used to be. Wheatley was still asleep, bless his rambling little heart.

The beleaguered scientist heaved out another heavy sigh and rolled his eyes. He reached down and slapped Wheatley gently in the face, who sputtered awake while saying "Wha-I'm awake, I was awake I was just resting my eyes. Wha-. Wha' is it, then?" He said while looking at the scruffy scientist. Doug just pulled the charger from his lab coat pocket, and Wheatley scrambled out of the cot and fell onto the floor in a gangly ball of limbs.

"We haven't got all day, Wheatley. I'll meet you in the office den. Try to hurry." Doug had no time to baby the android and escort him to the meeting place, and so he turned on his heels and walked out of the makeshift little hovel of a room. It wasn't too far away, the room he had in mind for this to take place. It took Doug less than five minutes to walk there, which was impressive considering the sheer size of the facility. He had no doubt that it would take Wheatley considerably longer to find the place as he was so often confused and lost.

The room was pretty sparsely furnished all things considered; a chair, the exact one Wheatley had been using before Doug put a stop to the unsupervised excursions; a cot, just in case it was needed; another chair for Doug to sit in; some random pieces of old technology; and a somewhat large, waist high portable generator. It was covered in outlets, which Doug had every intention to use with Wheatley. He took off his lab coat and draped it over the straight-backed chair that was his own, and set up the charger jack. He plugged it into the generator, which he was using for a very good reason: It had dials to control the amperes and voltage. He was a scientist after all; might as well do some tests.

As Doug had predicted, Wheatley had gotten lost very soon after he had gather himself together and gotten off the floor. He had left the room in search of the scientist and took a wrong turn, and then another, and then just ambled aimlessly for several minutes. Wheatley finally found the room he was after only twenty minutes after his initial departure. "'Ello, Doug!" He said amicably. He ambled into the room and was already working his trousers off, fumbling with the button and nibbling on his lips in concentration. Doug had only just gotten up to help him when he undid the button with an exclamation of victory and shucked them off. His long gangly legs kicked the trousers off clumsily, eventually getting them off and tossing them across the room. He was flaccid, penis hanging between his legs rather adorably when he saw his old chair and clapped his hands happily.

Doug just sighed once again when Wheatley plopped down on the chair and slid down, spreading his legs wide. "Well, go on, luv," he said with a bobbing eyebrow and a pointed glance to his general groin area. "Patience is a virtue, my friend" Doug said somewhat exasperatedly. Wheatley pouted and started bobbing his hips up and down impatiently, letting out the occasional whine as Doug double checked the settings on the generator. The artist made shushing sounds as he crouched down and took the jack between his fingers, lining the metal nub up with Wheatley's port and sliding it smoothly in. The android hardened almost instantaneously, hydraulic fluids filling his dick and engorging it with liquid, making it hard and rigid. He bucked his hips up rather sharply, jerking the plug out of Doug's fingers and surprising him rather badly. He simply frowned, however, and wrapped his fingers around Wheatley's synthetic dick. Once again, it was an odd feeling to experience for him, but this time he had a better idea of what he was doing. Doug rubbed the calloused pad of his thumb against Wheatley's frenulum, rubbing and smoothing it over the slit of the glans and smearing the sparse droplets of precum that had gathered there.

Wheatley was far from silent during all this, of course. Muttered litanies of praise slid from his lips, eyes closed tight as he bucked his hips into Doug's hand and sobbed in sexual pleasure and frustration. He was so hard, the pleasure not stemming from Doug's hand per-se, but from the jittering sparks of electricity filling his port and flowing up his spine and branching throughout his entire body. Every inch of him was sparking with pleasure, electricity thrumming through his circuits and exploding behind his eyes like sexual fireworks. Doug dialed back the amps, and Wheatley stopped bucking his hips instinctively and started to rhythmically thrust his hips, essentially fucking Doug's hand.

Doug was honestly surprised at the reactions he was getting, and made a mental note of it in hopes it would be remembered. When he reached back and dialed the amps up, Wheatley yelled out in pleasure as his cock throbbed and started leaking precum in copious amounts. It was getting all over Doug's fingers, but he didn't care. He was too interested in what Wheatley was doing to pay any mind to it. It was when he dialed up the voltage, however, that Doug was given the greatest surprise of all; his eyes had wandered down to Wheatley's asshole, which was for all intents and purposes purely aesthetic. In fact, Doug had been under the impression that it wasn't really a hole at all but just an indentation meant to look like one. But he was proven wrong when the electrical currents flowing through Wheatley's body had it open and then close, over and over in an almost hypnotic manner.

This was not only surprising because it proved a hypothesis wrong, but also because Doug's mind was leaping at the opportunity to get some well-deserved release of his own. But first, before he tried anything at all, he had to test what that hole was capable of. So he pressed a finger inside when it opened, and gasped when it closed around his index finger with suprising tightness. Doug wormed it in deeper, wiggling around in an attempt to judge its depth. Surely it wasn't as deep as a human's, after all? But when Wheatley was gasping and squirming around two fingers buried as deep as they could possibly go and he couldn't feel an end, Doug had to come to the conclusion that it really was quite deep.

Doug left Wheatley to the influence of the jack and stood up, reaching into his pockets for a packet of lubricant. In reality it was one of Aperture's many failed inventions, an attempt to create reusable fuel for cars. But all it ended up doing was working as the perfect lubricant for any situation, which was miraculous in and of itself. Doug tore it open with his teeth after he reached down to undo the button on his trousers and push the zipper down. He pulled out his dick and upended the packet onto his prick, slicking up the entire shaft with his right hand. Then he stepped close to Wheatley's still squirming form, holding down the android's hips with his left hand as he aligned his dick with the other's hole with his right. The artist shifted his footing and pressed forwards, hissing at the tightness that clamped down periodically on his length. He timed his little forward thrusts, only going forwards when Wheatley's body opened up and holding still when it clamped shut again. The lubricant made it an easy task to slide in balls deep immediately, but Doug was worried about tearing the android's synthetic tissue. When his balls were pressed somewhat wetly against Wheatley's spasming body, Doug reached under his own dick and yanked the cord. Wheatley fell still at last, chest heaving.

"Wha... why'd you stop?" Doug simply made a shushing sound, and he pulled out about halfway before sliding back in. Wheatley let out a shocked noise of arousal as the blunt head of Doug's cock pressed against an amazing spot inside of him, and again when the scruffy old artist wrapped his worker's hand around the android's length and began to pump in time with his thrusts. The chair creaked and rocked as Doug fucked the gangly man, and he let out a gravelly groan when he released inside of Wheatley's ass. Warm ropes of come spurted deep into his synthetic body, and the artist languidly jerked Wheatley off until he, too, came upon his own stomach. Their breathing echoed throughout the room, the only sound there other than the quiet dripping of Doug's semen leaking out of Wheatley's hole.

"...Man alive...!"