Kamov Redux

 

Ka-50 Black Shark Powerful Battle Helicopter2

This story was an RP written before the knowledge of Atoll Lab was told and is based loosely upon the picture ; http://www.titanatelier.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/06/Kamov3.jpg

story by CerebralError:

The blinding snow whipped around the nondescript hangar in the middle of the frigid Siberian airfield, piling in steep drifts along the sides of the building. No planes ever seemed to enter or leave it or the other hangars – at least not under the watchful eyes of America’s KH-11 spy satellites – and the decayed state of the runways and base facilities had lead those that cared to write the base off as abandoned, a leftover of the nearly bankrupt and unstable post-Soviet military. However, this would have been far from the truth. The simple matter was that the aircraft serviced inside the hangar had no need for a runway, and the Russians were well aware of the Keyhole satellite’s flight path. All personnel were instructed to be inside at set periods of the day, under threat of death, to keep the anonymity of the base secure.

Tucked inside the hangar was a single helicopter, at first glance a Ka-50 ‘Black Shark’ attack helicopter, comparable in function to the American AH-64 ‘Apache’. But upon closer inspection, the helicopter was somewhat smaller than a full sized Ka-50, and shorter in length, almost like it had been slightly squashed from nose to tail. Looking even closer, the boxy, angular fuselage was expanding and contracting ever slightly, rhythmically. The helicopter was -breathing-. Down at its nose, a visible mouth was slightly parted, the sound of turbines winding up and down with each inhale and exhale. Just above the mouth, around where the base of the cockpit met the fuselage, a thin seam was visible where the helicopter’s eyes were, closed as they were in its slumber.

Kamov shifted slightly in his sleep, the seams in his biosteel flexing and popping lightly as he shuffled into a more comfortable position.

The relative silence of the hangar was soon interrupted as the overhead lights came on in long, fluorescent strips. The harsh light filled the large room. “Kamov!” called a woman’s voice, in the same way one might call to one’s best friend – the kind of friend it’s okay to insult. “Wake up, you lazy thing!” The speaker walked out into the hangar with the loud clack of boot heels on hard concrete. “You were supposed to be awake and getting breakfast half an hour ago, you lazy machine. How do you think it looks on our reports when you’re late? It looks horrible, that’s how – almost as horrible as you!”

The woman wore what looked like a cold-weather uniform – A heavy greenish jacket, with equally heavy and equally greenish pants, furred at the collar and cuffs. Her heavy black boots were also furred around the cuffs, and shone like black mirrors. Even though she possessed a nametag, it read only ‘RUSALKA’ with no rank or forename given. She was pretty enough, in a rugged sort of way – strong chin and heavy cheekbones, with dishwater blond hair pulled into a tight bun, eyes so dark it was hard to tell if they were blue or brown as she flipped the hood on the jacket off.

“Don’t make me use the air raid siren, Kamov, you know I’ll do it!”

As each bulb buzzed and then snapped to brightness, more details of the Ka-50 emerged. The bright red Russian star emblem on his tail. The drooping contra-rotating rotors that emerged from the top of his fuselage, competely eliminating the need for a tail rotor. The green, tan, and black of his camoflauge pattern. Kamov’s eyes squeezed shut even tighter when the lights flooded over him, and only wearily cracked open at the sound of Rusalka’s voice, calling him a lazy and horrible machine. He knew she was only joking, the two of them were about as close as anyone could be. They had to be, since she was his pilot, and he was her helicopter.

Kamov stretched again, his seams groaning and popping as he arched his tail up almost to the level of his rotors. The helicopter yawned deeply, his turbines winding up at the hearty intake of oxygen. His open mouth was full of sharp teeth, fitting for the nickname of ‘Akula’, Shark in the Russian tongue.

“You try sucking down cold fuel every morning, and see how enthusiastic you are…” He mumbled back, but he smiled and pushed himself up on his landing gear. “Did you sleep well, Rusalka?”

The woman watched the machine stretch and move on its own volition, the biosteel flexing and popping. To anyone else, it might have been an odd sight, but it was a sight Rusalka had known since she was created. She was as much an experiment as he was, in fact the same experiment. She took off the heavy jacket – it was cool in the hangar, but not cold, and revealed that for all the helicopter’s odd biological appearance, she was little better. She wore only a tank-top, because it was all she could wear, with the metal plating along her back and the two odd ‘fins’ near her shoulder barely allowing the jacket to fit.

She approached the helicopter and trailed a hand up his side, feeling the pleasing warmth of his biosteel. “I suck down cold gruel every morning, Kamov, and I do it without complaining because I know everything is cold here. That is the downside of remote experimental bases in winter. It would not matter if your fuel were heated to just under explosive temperature, it would be frozen slush by the time it hit your tank,” she said with a smile. “I slept as well as could be expected. I wish they would let me resume sleeping in you, but they worry about too much exposure when linked, or some such nonsense.”

Kamov groaned, a metallic sound that echoed inside the hangar. “But it is -always- winter here, Rusalka.” That wasn’t completely true, but in Sibera, it might as well have been. “Couldn’t they have built our hangar down near the Black Sea? Or in Primorsky. It’s nearly tropical there!” He also grinned. The helicopter always bitched about the cold, but he wasn’t really complaining. He understood the need for this secrecy. Not even the Americans had a helicopter as advanced as he was. And if they did, they were keeping it and its pilot just as buttoned up as he was. Possibly in Alaska, somewhere. If so, that helicopter was probably bitching about the cold as well, and being softly chided by its pilot.

Kamov leaned into the gentle touch of her hand, smiling warmly. “I miss those nights too…” He said softly, remembering the feeling of wholeness he had when Rusalka slept within his biomechanical body, her thoughts and feelings linked to his. He dreamed of his pilot often, as he had before she had woken him. Even though he was considered a machine, a piece of highly experimental and classified equipment to the Russian Army, his biomechanical nature meant that he was, in some aspects at least, alive. He had thoughts, emotions, and as he had come to realize lately…needs and desires.

From beneath his fuselage, a snake-like manipulator arm emerged from inside, slithering out and up to clasp softly around Rusalka’s hand. “I dreamed again.” He said gently.

“Now that isn’t fair, it isn’t always winter here. Why two months ago it was absolutely a balmy summer – you could spit and it wouldn’t freeze until it was on the ground, I very nearly bought a bikini,” she replied with a grin. “You complain too much, Kamov. You know what the military says about wheels that squeak?” She leaned in close and whispered, “They say ‘A squeaking wheel? Destroy that vehicle it may give away our position!'” She laughed and patted what passed for a cheek on the helicopter. “Maybe one day they will assign us to proper duty and we will be allowed to go elsewhere, until then – drink your fuel you flying fool, or you’ll get the entire project in trouble.”

The two of them had been engineered as two parts of a single organism, a war device that was incomplete and weakened when they were apart. She had grown up beside Kamov, as he had ‘grown’ alongside her, and for much of her childhood, she had spent her nights sleeping in Kamov’s cockpit. It was no cockpit like in traditional vehicles – it was a tight space, warm around her. There were no controls, no viewports. Fleshy, yes, but in an odd way that she wasn’t sure she could put into words. The ports along her back plugged into ports of his own, and he became her eyes and ears and hands. He responded at her superior reaction time, and things were done before she could have worked mechanical controls. But lately the scientists had begun restricting her from sleeping in him. She wasn’t sure why, though she suspected they were simply afraid of what sleepwalking would do when one’s body was an attack helicopter.

When the manipulator extended and grasped her hand, she gave him a reassuring squeeze in return, and even pressed her cheek to the metal. “I know, Kamov. I dreamed too. Every night. This is wrong, and hopefully they will soon realize the stress it is causing and allow us to sleep properly.”

Kamov grinned at what she said, since she was also confined to this base just as much as he was. And he doubted that bikinis were a piece of clothing she could simply requisition. As it was, Kamov barely knew what a bikini was, only that it was a rather revealing article of woman’s clothing that was popular in warmer climates. He’d never seen one before, although he was certain that she would look beautiful in it. He was less inclined to laugh at her joke about squeaky wheels – it was something all too likely to be true – and the helicopter gulped softly. “Maybe someday, yes.” He nodded, “I promise to drink my -cold- fuel, Rusalka.”

Kamov brushed the warm biosteel of his canopy against her cheek, continuing to hold her hand. He could faintly feel the pulse of blood under her skin. “I dreamed about you.” He continued, another manipulator sliding out, this one touching the hem of her tank top. “It was…strange. But…exciting!” The helicopter’s tubrines whined as he started breathing a little heavier as he recalled more elements of his dream. Further back along the underside of his fuselage, beneath the weapons hardpoints and his engines, something started emerging. While it was doubtful that this had been part of his original design, one advantage of biomechanical airframes was the ability for the aircraft to ‘heal’ itself from damage received in flight. Somewhere along his development with Rusalka, Kamov’s airframe had developed this extension in response to his feelings for the pilot he had known ever since he had woken up years ago.

Rusalka leaned in close and rested her head on his for a moment. “Good boy,” she murmured in teasing praise, then placed a kiss on his metal hide. He had no blood to feel pulse, and no true circulatory system, but she could feel the soft hum of power through his biosteel skin, the little flexings and motions of a living creature. “You’ll manage to keep us out of trouble yet if you continue to act like this,” she teased, then she felt the touch of another manipulator arm on the hem of her tanktop, and heard the way he mentioned his dream… How it was strange. Exciting.

She flushed pinker than the cold had left her when she realized what he was saying. She was embarrassed… But she’d never hidden anything from Kamov. She couldn’t. They were too close when they were connected. Every thought was there. So she flushed, but she squeezed the manipulator again. “I… Dreamed too, Kamov. Strange and exciting. I dreamed of you above me, holding me, doing things to me… Things that you can’t do, but I dreamed of them anyway.” Then she heard something, saw some flicker of motion, and she looked further down the helicopter’s body. Her dark blue eyes went wide. “Oh…” She looked down at something that… Appeared to be some kind of phallus, emerging from where a weapons system was often mounted. “Oh my…” She looked from it to Kamov, confusion on her face. “Kamov, when did that… When did you get that?” she asked. There was awe in her eyes, surprise. But there was also that same confused feeling he had just divulged…

Kamov also couldn’t blush, lacking any means to do so. But he felt a rush as Rusalka admitted she had also dreamed, dreamed of the same things that he had, even though they had not been linked. He saw the surprise in her eyes as she looked beneath him, and Kamov grinned sheepishly, a rather surprising fact considering his shark-toothed grin. “I don’t know, Rusalka…” He confessed to her. “I noticed it a few days ago…but I didn’t know what it was for until the dreams.” Already, thick drops of fluid bubbled at the tip of the semi-mechanical phallus, dripping down onto the hangar floor below. It was somewhat clear, and looked similar to the ECL that surrounded her inside his cockpit. It throbbed eagerly, and Kamov’s turbines were a constant whine now, his actual engines engaged to bring in a constant draw of oxygen. The remaining two manipulators eased out now, one curling around her ankle, the other extending up to caress her cheek.

Kamov flexed again, pushing himself slightly against his pilot. “I want this, Rusalka.” He said, smiling. “And I think you do, too.”

“I see…” she murmured, still sounding shocked, still wide-eyed and staring. Her breathing mirrored his, without the whirr of turbines. It was growing deeper. Faster. Her body was reacting to this display in a way it had never reacted for the soldiers who occasionally tried to work their way into her pants, despite not quite being human like them. She knew how the dance went, she’d been educated, but she had never gone through the motions. She simply had no interest in such things… Until now. Until she felt Kamov’s warm biosteel against her.

It was seeing the thick, clear drops of ECL at the tip that finally snapped her out of it. The way it throbbed… She realized she was panting, and shook her head a bit to look Kamov in the face. She didn’t fight the manipulators, because she knew as well as he did that he was right. She turned her cheek against his manipulator, and then kissed it. “Not just this,” she answered with a smile. “Anyone, anything could give me penetration, simple sex.” She reached down with her free hand, reaching for her pants. The thick cold-weather pants were tightly belted, buckled, zipped. It took effort, but she got them undone one-handed, leaving herself prime to be undressed. “I want /you/, Kamov. I want my other half inside /me/ for once,” she joked with a faint blush. “But… Be gentle. You’re much stronger than I am, and we… Don’t know how you work yet,” she murmured, eying that protruding phallus-like construct…

Kamov smiled softly and watched Rusalka intently as his pilot reached down to slowly unbuckle her winter pants. Once the buckle and zipper were opened, one of the manipulators slid down and clasped around the waistband, giving those pants a firm tug down her legs, exposing her underwear and the smooth white flesh of her legs. Of course, he had seen much more of her body, she often wore nothing when she was inside him. But somehow, this was different. “I promise I will be gentle, Rusalka.” He vowed in the same tone as he had done when he promised to drink his fuel. He would never hurt her, -could- never hurt her… “I want you too…this feels -right-.” He growled softly. The manipulator holding her tank top began pulling it up, revealing both more smooth flesh, and shiny metal graftings.

Kamov was just improvising. Normally used to Rusalka giving commands and orders, and leaping at her thoughts, now the helicopter was operating on his own, and trying to be as gentle and caring as he could. With the dream fading, there was less and less of it he could try to draw back on. But, somehow, he could sense direction, almost like Rusalka’s thoughts guiding him on…or were they his own? The manipulators were strong enough to lift her, and he did so, carefully scooping Rusalka off her feet and maneuvering her beneath him. Not all the way to the throbbing, dripping phallus, not yet. But enough so that he could kiss her – awkwardly, his mouth too big and not shaped right for this, but tenderly, with all the love he could muster.

Rusalka gave a shiver as her heavy pants were dragged down from her waist, leaving her in her white underwear. Her skin was pale – in this cold, one didn’t get out in the sun, and she looked as white as her underwear. Her legs were strong, toned and fit, and they flexed as she kicked off the thick boots she wore, fumbling to rid herself of the thick socks as well by stepping on the toes and kicking away. Eventually she was rid of it all, and she unceremoniously kicked it aside as the arm across her chest lifted up on her tank top… Her pale skin shifted rosy pink near her nipples, with pink little areola and a firm nipple capping each breast. The metal seemed to almost grow out of her skin, and cupped her entire upper back, and even across her sides a bit. The same biosteel that covered Kamov, it was flexible, and warm to the touch, but the texture change could be shocking. Her bare breasts were high, firm, warm… And they bounced slightly as she was picked up off her feet and pulled beneath the helicopter.

She realized what he was doing when his mouth fell on hers. It wasn’t a great fit – his mouth was larger, and much more angular. But she still loved him for it, she still gave a soft sigh and returned the kiss as tenderly as it was given. She wrapped her arms around the helicopter’s undercarriage, pushing her mouth firmly to his despite the awkwardness, and as she adjusted, she felt something warm, slick under her foot… Her sole rested in a growing puddle of ECL near the throbbing, twitching biomechanical shaft Kamov sported. With a sudden flash of mischief, she put her other foot in it as well, getting both soles slick… Then raised her feet, brushing the now slick soles across the pulsing dark cock that until moments ago, she hadn’t even known existed…

Kamov looked at Rusalka’s increasing nudity with a new perspective, no longer merely a sign of readiness for training. The firmness of her breasts, the warmth of her pale skin, the crisp pink of her nipples, the contrast of soft flesh and toned muscle beneath. He wasn’t shocked by the difference in texture between her skin and the biosteel that made up her implants. In fact, Kamov paid the ‘seam’ between her skin and the metal extra attention with the little claws at the end of each manipulator arm. He also slithered one of the deft manipulators up her smooth stomach to touch her breast, experimentally squeezing it.

He kissed her again, loving the warmth of her skin against his as she wrapped herself around him, especially in the coolness of the hangar. Kamov growled softly, a metallic rumble through his fuselage, before his eyes suddenly shot open at the feeling of one of her feet…then both of her feet, along the sides of his shaft. Kamov’s turbines revved, and the helicopter shuddered, her touches rewarded by a fresh spurt of warm ECL that spattered against her thighs and belly.

Rusalka shivered softly as Kamov’s manipulator arms made their way across that seam, giving a soft gasp. It was like a series of little static shocks all up and down the biosteel plate in her back when he did that, and she arched slightly beneath the helicopter as he teased her there. She let out a breathy laugh and kissed at Kamov’s steel skin again, giving an approving ‘Mmm, yes!’ when that manipulator hand slid up her flat, trim belly to her breast. She arched more sharply at that touch, her warm feet stroking softly back and forth across the shaft beneath the aircraft, teasing him but not giving him the kind of regular stroking that could lead to overexcitement.

It still led to excitement though, and as she began to frantically kiss at her other half, raining kisses across his mouth and metal skin, she felt the warm lubricant splash against her smooth skin and giggled a girlish laugh as she swatted playfully at his fuselage as it rumbled. “Such a messy machine. Perhaps you should try to keep that from happening, hmm?” she asked with a smile as she practically cuddled against the aircraft’s undercarriage. “In fact, yes – I think for every time I feel ECL splash out onto me, I’ll just get slower with these,” she said mischievously, and for several seconds her soft, warm feet stopped moving against Kamov’s phallus-like protrusion entirely before resuming… Much more slowly. “Waste nothing, Kamov,” she continued with a teasing tone before kissing him again, ignoring the shark-like teeth in his mouth to flick her tongue in with a soft moan.

Kamov responded to her eager approval, much like how he responded to her commands when flying, squeezing at her other breast with the manipulator, before bringing the one around from her back to play with both breasts at the same time. He held her warm body close as she arched against him. Kamov’s fuselage creaking and popping as he shifted and flexed as he felt her feet sliding back and forth along his ELC-slicked shaft. “Rusalka…!” He gasped over the sound of his winding turbines, squeezing his eyes shut again. “That’s…not f-fair!” He protested feebly, before being silenced by her kiss, her small tongue slipping inside his mouth. Kamov returned the gesture, his much larger tongue easily filling her mouth. While the helicopter was more than strong enough to force himself upon Rusalka, he couldn’t do that, not yet.

He fought to control the pulses of ECL as his shaft throbbed wildly beneath Rusalka’s slow-moving feet. “You are cruel, Rusalka.” He said, although there was no malice in those words, just burning desire.

The blond was trying to hide her own eagerness as she felt Kamov’s warm manipulator hands sliding around her… She hugged him back, trembling as his own biosteel slid across the plating on her back as he moved the manipulator hands over her body. The creaking, popping and metallic sounds as he shifted above her were pleasant to her ears – the sounds of her other part. She held herself to him as much as he held her, body pressing warmly to his metal skin as she softly, slowly stroked that length… Her feet slid languidly up and down, pressed to either side. Her toes wriggled against the ‘skin’ of it as she worked his member, and when his much larger, thicker tongue filled her mouth, her feet picked up in speed, becoming much faster and firmer, but much less smooth in their motion as the aircraft’s tongue pressed hers aside to feed into her mouth. She blushed, but she accepted it with a certain eagerness, moaning around it as she tried to fit as much as she could into her mouth.

When he pulled away to call her cruel, she grinned and stroked along his fuselage with both hands, arching to make her firm breasts easier targets for the surprisingly gentle hands on the end of his manipulators. “Mmm… You call me cruel, but I can feel you… You’re throbbing like mad against my toes, my love,” she teased, almost kicking – that was how hard she was working her feet along that thick artificial shaft. “You complain like always, but you like it, I can feel it. Be good, Kamov, and it will be better in the end if you are anything like I have heard human men are, I promise – I wouldn’t leave half of myself with no pleasure at all, would I?”

Kamov rumbled again, trying his best to not release another spurt of fluid as Rusalka’s feet moved with speed and friction, flares of delight erupting inside. He partially succeeded, not spurting across her stomach, but instead releasing a thick dribble for a few seconds that pooled on the hangar floor beneath them. His airframe alternately sagged and tensed, sending shudders through his rotor blades.”Yes, Rusalka…” Kamov panted, before he kissed her again with metallic firmness. His two manipulators eased down from her breasts, across her stomach, and down between her legs. One gently, but firmly, pulled one of her legs aside, and the other slithered across her sex, gliding back and forth along the entirity of her slit.

The grin that Kamov gave her was smug, even though it might have not been ‘being good’ as she had instructed of him. “If I get to be teased, then so do you.” He growled again, leaning forward slightly until her bottom rested in the pooling ELC, the helicopter gently pinning her to the floor. This freed up the remainder of his manipulator arms, one of them winding out to its fullest length and dragging some sandbags over to pile up behind Rusalka, giving her a rough ‘cushion’ to lay against. The other went down and pulled her other leg aside, giving him better access to her slit.

The woman could feel the dribble of ECL that the aircraft released in the way it made the thick cock-like structure underneath her soles pulse and swell in a pleasantly organic way. The way his heavy frame flexed, tensed and relaxed above her made her feel… Pleased. That she had made him do that without piloting him. When he kissed her again, she kissed back heatedly. She’d found that the best way to approach kissing him wasn’t to try to press lips to lips, but to press tongue to tongue, and she welcomed his thick, strong tongue into her mouth again as she gazed up at the helicopter lovingly. She felt his manipulators leave her breasts and sink lower, but even though she was prepared, she still was shocked by the feel of his warm metal against her folds.

The way he pulled her leg aside pulled her foot away from his phallus-like protrusion and left her simply rubbing her other foot along the underside of the helicopter’s prick as she gasped and arched sharply, pressing her wet, slick folds against his metallic ‘arm’ as it teased her. “I’ll get you back for that in the air,” she replied with a grin, even as her words broke into another moan. For all her urges to be the pilot and control the situation, control him, she realized as he pushed forward until she was gently pinned beneath the aircraft’s warm, metallic bulk that she was more aroused by the way he’d just behaved… His tugging her legs aside pulled her other foot away from his shaft, leaving it untouched and dripping ECL freely as she squirmed against the sandbags, working herself into a more comfortable position as the lubricant her helicopter had leaked warmed her rump against the coolness of the concrete. “So big and strong,” she murmured. “You make me so proud to be part of you, Kamov. Will you show me how strong you are, Kamov? Will you show me how disciplined and careful you can be?” she asked urgently. “I’ve had enough teasing – I want you, Kamov, I want you inside me for once. Let me feel that, but carefully. I was made strong, but you are far stronger, my love.”

Kamov’s fuselage flexed from side to side, his tail boom arching up. The growl that rumbled through his body was nearly constant now, a sound that Rusalka might recognize from the dogs around the base as a sound of possession. Kamov didn’t even seem to be aware that he was making such a sound, and if he did, he seemed rather okay with it. Kamov lifted himself slightly, shuffling forward on his landing gear until the tip of his heavy shaft probed at the entrance of her slit. He pulled the manipulator arms away, and instead coiled them around parts of her body. One snaked around her leg, another curled up just beneath her breasts, the third around her wrist, and the last slid up onto her belly. Eased on by his lover’s words of praise and encouragement, Kamov made final adjustments in his position and hers, before the helicopter slid that throbbing, dripping member inside her.

Nearly three inches in diameter, it was a tight fit that would have likely been impossible if not for the heavy volume of ECL that kept it slick. The whine of his turbines reached a deafening volume, and that rumble increased as he pushed himself deeper into Rusalka. He kissed her firmly, his tongue meeting hers, the manipulators also pushing Rusalka slightly further down to make up for his lack of flexibility. “You downplay your strength, dearest Rusalka…” He panted, grinning softly. His metal skin was almost hot to the touch, and had he a heart, it would be racing. “I love you, Rusalka.”

That rumbling growl that he was giving off shook Rusalka to the core. It resonated through her in all the best ways. She recognized the near-feral possessiveness of it, and she clung fiercely to the helicopter in return. She was his; And he was equally hers. The heat of him pressed to her skin; The deep rumble of turbines and hydraulics shook him as he growled, and through him shook her. As he lifted himself and shuffled forward, the smaller human grasped each side of his fuselage, making him look down at her. “Prove you’re mine, Kamov,” she growled up at him, fixing him with a firm stare. “Make me yours and I’ll make you mine, dearest.”

As his manipulator arms shifted around her body, she almost felt like she was being constricted. Her body was moved, arranged to the aircraft’s preferences, leaving her open, vulnerable. She took a soft, hissing breath as that thick phallus pressed to her moist folds, and she rocked her hips, helping him adjust; then that thick biomechanical shaft parted her netherlips and pressed smoothly forward with the precision and steady motion that only a machine could have been capable of. As her damp petals and hot inner walls squeezed tightly around the member invading them, they stretched wider than Rusalka had thought they ever could. A loud, pained groan escaped her mouth, but she muffled it against Kamov’s metal hide, and it was drowned out by the sudden increase in noise from his turbines. The vibration they caused as they revved transmitted through his biomechanical body and into the maleness the helicopter had buried within her, making her bite her bottom lip and groan for a different reason as she was pushed downwards, her body surprisingly accepting of Kamov’s erection as her inner walls squeezed around it, impossibly tight and moist around him. As the aircraft spoke, the human opened her eyes and answered only by kissing him again, panting as she rained kiss after kiss down on his hot biosteel casing.

Kamov didn’t say anything now, simply growling as he held her beneath his body. He thrust into her as best he could, flexing as much as his biosteel frame would allow. He could feel her tightness clamping down on him as he slowly pistoned deeper inside her, inch after inch. His shaft spurted ECL inside her, the clear fluid dribbling out of her sex and onto the floor beneath them. His eyes were squeezed shut, feeling the flutter of kisses along his metal underside. His nose practically ground into the hangar floor as his next kiss, the deepest one yet, pushed her head back firmly against the sandbags. The manipulators caressed her belly and stroked over her breasts, even managing to tease her nipples with the little claws at the end. Soon, though, Kamov’s flexibility reached its limits, and he had to stop or risk structural damage. Still, even though most of his dripping, vibrating shaft still remained outside her, nearly a foot of it was planted inside the warm, clenching dampness of her sex.

Kamov’s rotors clattered slightly, his turbines still howling and likely drawing curiosity from anyone outside the hangar. “We are whole again, Rusalka…” He rumbled. “You are -mine-. And I am yours.” Another rumble shuddered through Kamov’s airframe, down into the phallus sunken inside her. The helicopter groaned, closing his eyes tightly as the first heavy spurt of ECL gushed inside her, much more volume than any human would have been able to produce.

Rusalka was overwhelmed by the sensations. She’d never dreamed that she could feel /whole/ like this outside Kamov, but she was – she felt gloriously, magnificently whole again. The feeling of the aircraft above her, thrusting with the kind of power only machinery would be capable of. She reveled in the power she could feel, thrumming through every inch of his metallic skin as his frame bent and flexed, working his newly discovered shaft deeper into her folds. They wrapped around his biomechanical cock, putting hot, tight pressure around every millimeter that he managed to work into her, and only growing moreso as she felt the spurts of ECL he was leaving inside her. She liked the feel of it – it was warm, familiar, and unique to him. She was surrounded by it when she was in his cockpit, and she smiled as she realized she was surrounding it, now. Then he moved, pressing her head back harshly against the sandbags, and she could feel his metal scraping roughly against the concrete of the floor as he gave her the deepest kiss she’d ever had. His tongue managed to wriggle almost entirely into her mouth, and she moaned hotly around it, the taste of him overwhelming her own mouth as she practically sucked on the helicopter’s tongue, her body arching to press her skin against his own increasingly hot hide when his claws found her stiff, pink nipples. He was giving off a lot of heat, and she was beginning to sweat beneath him, but she didn’t notice a bit as she felt him sink deep into her.

The aircraft had buried enough of that thick, throbbing maleness within her to cause the outline of it to be visible as a faint bulge up into her flat, toned belly, flexing inside her as her inner walls squeezed and milked, teasing the twelve inches he’d fit inside her. “Yes!” she answered breathlessly, her hips working to stimulate him as she was held tightly to his metallic frame. “Whole… Feels so good!” the pilot gasped loudly, and when she felt the deep, satisfying rumble feed through Kamov’s body and through the faux-phallus he’d planted in her depths, she gave a loud, sharp cry of pleasure, the fine, rumbling vibrations through something so deep inside her triggering a sudden orgasm that caught even her by surprise, and she only grew more incoherent as she felt the sudden thick, warm rush of ECL into her, in a much greater quantity. With his sizable shaft plugging her, it had little place to go, and indeed served a biological purpose it hadn’t been intended for. Kamov hadn’t known he had a penis until biology had seen fit for him to use it… Likewise, Rusalka didn’t know her own body had been undergoing similar changes, and though she supposedly had no womb, no ovaries by design, her body had seen fit to fix that in a way… The ECL rushed into a womb-like chamber inside her, stretching it, awakening it, preparing it for something to come… And the stretching sensation made Rusalka’s dark blue eyes snap open, a confused yet pleased sound escaping her mouth…

Spurt after spurt of warm ECL flowed into Rusalka’s ‘womb’, still plugged shut by Kamov’s shaft. Soon, the bulge of his cock was slowly softened out, and soon vanished and Rusalka’s belly began to bulge from the volume of ECL being pumped into it. Kamov slowly pulled his lips away from hers, his broad tongue withdrawing from his lover’s mouth, a small trail of fluid linking them for a second. The helicopter panted, the sound of his turbines wavering faintly, Kamov’s reluctance to guzzle down cold fuel this morning was starting to come back to bite him. He’d burned through a lot of energy, and it wouldn’t be long until he was too weary to continue. But the helicopter still had a little bit left in him, and he planned to make the most of it. One of the manipulators slid down and gently rubbed Rusalka’s lightly swollen tummy, Kamov letting our a happy rumble. He groaned and bent his airframe just a little bit further, his seams groaning alarmingly, his body making a bow shape when viewed from above. He shuffled himself forward just a little bit further, so that Rusalka was off-center to him, and a little further back.

His shaft pivoted on the weapons mount beneath him, and now with her a little further back, he was able to push in a few more inches of its length and girth inside her. He could feel every inch of her clenching, pulsing walls, even the very back of her. He could go no deeper without harming her, or himself. The vibrations were firmer now, and occasionally the reverberating ‘pop’ of straining metal transmitted down into her body. Kamov kissed her again, softer this time, gently turning her head towards his. “Thank you, Rusalka…” He spoke wearily, “Thank you…” A final shudder rattled through his fuselage, and another gush of ECL surged from his shaft and into her womb. Already swollen from his previous ejactulation, Rusalka’s belly now ballooned, swelling even further and giving her the false appearance of pregnancy, her pale skin drawn taught.

The ECL being spurted into her in an unnatural but oh-so-perfect simulation of seed was icing on the cake to the human beneath him. Her artificial womb was, quite literally, made for this, and it stretched in ways no human analogue could have managed. It was made to inflate and hold, and it was doing just that. As Rusalka panted and moaned around Kamov’s thick tongue, she gyrated her hips, teasing the length inside her with the movements and pressure. When the aircraft pulled his tongue away from her, she was shameless in raising her head and letting out an ‘Mmm’ as her tongue found that trail of saliva and licked it up again. His panting and wavering turbines made her worry, but it was nothing compared to the pleasure he was giving, and she was unable to make herself stop panting, stop moaning his name, to make sure he was okay. When she looked down herself, she could see her bulging belly, slightly rounded, and she gave an ecstatic shiver. /Kamov did that,/ she thought to herself in a haze of pleasure. /He did that to show he loves you, Rusalka, so do not let him go unrewarded./ She was still too pleased, too aroused, too needing of his shaft inside her and his great weight and size over her, to worry about the way he was bowed. Instead she groaned as she was repositioned, and she spread her legs as wide as she physically could… And gave a loud cry of happiness and pleasure as she felt him sink a few more inches into her body. She was absolutely full of him – she thought – and it was the most amazing experience of her life. Every single millimeter of her tunnel, from stretched-taut folds to the back of her artificial womb, began to squeeze, to milk, to stroke – to pleasure him.

The pops and pings of metal strained as far as it could be strained and on the edge of failure alarmed her, but she was unable to make her renegade body stop. The vibrations it was causing simply made her toes curl, nd she gasped hard for each breath as she let him push so deep… Her kiss this time was as tender as his, though no less heated than the one before it. She did her best to give him a full kiss, not just his tongue but his mouth, moaning hotly for him. “Mmm, no, my love. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” she repeated, each repetition earning the tiring machine another delicate kiss. She felt the shudder in his body before she felt this one, final ejaculation, and her body was prepared. Not just ECL, this final series of spurts was laden with a thick slurry of biosteel molecules, silicone molecules, everything her own body couldn’t naturally provide. Her ‘womb’ knew what to do with it, and was already beginning the slow process of restructuring the molecules into a new life form, like herself. She gasped “OooOOH! KAMOV! YESSS!” Her last word came out a hiss as she felt her belly draw up taut, expanded as far as it safely could, pressing firmly to Kamov’s undercarriage as he pressed down on her. Her hot, tight walls milked him as efficiently as any machine, rippling up his synthetic cock to coax more of that resource-rich ejaculate into herself as she shuddered and shook uncontrollably in the first orgasm she’d ever truly experienced underneath the biomechanical helicopter.

Kamov sagged after the intensity of that ejaculation, slumping to the side so that he did not risk rolling on top of Rusalka. The helicopter’s rotors dragged against the ground, and his turbines sputtered, winding down. His fuselage expanded and contracted with each deep breath, but he relaxed the tension that had been straining his airframe. The manipulators took a moment to respond, slowly unwinding themselves from Rusalka’s body, even though one continued to lazily stroke her taut belly. As the synthetic shaft slid from her sex with a slimy ‘pop’, the excess ECL that was not held in her womb gushed out and onto the floor. His shaft was steaming, and wisps of it also drifted up from her pussy to disapate in the hangar air. His shaft withdrew back into the space in his belly, being covered up as if though it had never been there. Using his manipulator arms, Kamov slowly and gently hugged Rusalka’s body against his, feeling her afterglow-warmed skin against his biosteel. He smiled, letting his eyes close as he nuzzled against her. “I do not think I mind the winter so much, now…” He rumbled softly. “If it means I can be here with you.”

Rusalka was in little better shape than the helicopter atop her as he slumped down. Her own body betrayed her in the weakness of afterglow, refusing to work properly. She slumped down, unable to make her limbs obey – they wanted only to go limp and stay that way. As he released the tension he’d been putting himself under in order to penetrate her, the human just lay back onto the sandbags and took deep, groaning breaths as she enjoyed the stretched, taut feeling he was leaving her with. Feeling him withdrawing, she actually whimpered and tried to grab him to stay where he was – but her arms refused to work, and instead all that happened was a lewd ‘schlurp’ as his biomechanical cock slipped out of the tight hold of her sex. It wasn’t until she saw the steam rising from it – and from her pussy – that she realized just how hot the aircraft had become. “Nnng… We may need the cold… To keep you from overheating, Kamov,” she replied with a tired grin. “If you’d tried that with anyone else they’d likely be badly burned…” She gasped lightly as he moved her, pressing her swollen tummy against his hot metal skin to nuzzle her, and her arms finally reacted. She reached up, resting her hands on either side of his mouth where cheeks might otherwise be, and caressed them. “They keep us apart too much, dearest Kamov. I think I will… Use stronger language to convince them to allow us to at least sleep together, if not in you. I refuse to not sleep in your hangar,” she answered, groaning. A certain amount of ECL had escaped, splashing messily to the floor, but most of it, along with his final gift, had been retained tightly inside her, and was plainly not interested in going anywhere.

And it was only at that moment that Rusalka’s pale face went even more pale. “Kamov? Do- Do they deactivate the surveillance cameras while you sleep?”

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