We were looking for an addition to our polycule, which was unconventional at best, my relationship. I have one partner, that goes by IT. Yes, IT has a human body, but IT was an Object. And I am an objectumsexual. IT was an asexual, that didn't mind doing sexual favors or being used for release, but could not feel sexual attraction the way I could. At least not until we met – her. 

Chrome, stacked and reasonably priced. The stackable washer/dryer unit was the stuff of dreams.  Our former one died so we needed a new one. IT and I went to pick one out. I even picked out ITS clothes.  To show off ITS tits and narrow hips, but high and tight ass.  I – looked like me. Just a butch quasi-androgynous trans woman.  

I’m sure you’re wondering how I got to be so … aware of how amazingly but marginally queer I am? Just clicking all those marginalized demographics - Trans.  Objectumsexual, married to an asexual human-bodied-self-identified-object who uses it/its pronouns, while I don’t give a fuck about my pronouns.  My go-to response to questions around this is that the Fates got bored, and decided to get creative when they made me.  I like to think I got lucky, finding IT, my Clara, to be my Chosen Object. My Chosen Object is mostly nonverbal.  Well, low-verbal is a better word, I suppose. 

While we wandered the store, IT followed me till we reached the Machine. Instantly I knew she was the one. It was like I felt her call to me. She was a massive beauty of technology.  I got hard instantly. So we brought the machine home and got her all set up and comfy in her new space. And I was supposed to be finding a load of wash to put in her to test her out, but I stood and stared at her for hours, just reveling in how hard she made me. IT came in and saw me. I could see some emotion in ITS eyes, I don’t want to say jealousy, but I don’t have another word than that.  
“We should christen her, welcome her home,” IT said simply.

“Uhh, yeah, totally what I was thinking…”

IT began to disrobe, naked in five seconds flat, perfect tits, perked up, eager with very large and dark areola and small hard nipples, along with a fat, bush over the cameltoe. IT went over opened the lower washer half and put ITS front half in so ITS ass was sticking out, open and glistening.

“Proxy hole,  that dangle clit of yours, hard and wanting -  fits my hole perfectly,  but by all means,  let us fantasize that together we are big enough to deflower our newest polycule member in her holes properly,  bottom first, then top. Then once we're done, we fill her with a fabric snack and listen to the swish and hum of her.”  and then IT stuck ITS head back in the washer’s hole. 

I shoved my pants down my hard dangle-clit was dripping pre all down the shaft and I just…  I hadn't had a decent orgasm in weeks.  Spanking Clara's fleshy ass, hearing IT moan in the echo-y chamber of Her hole, metallic and new, sent a chill of 'fuck yes' down my spine and my own hole puckered.
Sure, all those strangers had their hands on her,  considering her but then walking away as she stood trying to look her best in that store. But she was ours now. Sliding in ITS cunt with a sigh,  I stared at my reflection in her top hole, and just began to fuck fuck fuck…..until the great 'ahhhh' of climax - ITS sigh echoed in the echo chamber of Her hole. I released the biggest load of my life - Fates be damned, I felt blessed to have such a life.

My heart never felt so complete as it did now … so many holes to choose from,  another object to swoon over,  what other kind of happily ever after could an objectumsexual like me hope for?