When in Russia: Part IV- Rammstein

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© 2015 DELTA X3


So, lately I’ve not been very diligent in my writing, netflix often getting the better of me. That being said, without further ado: WiR Pt IV.

I wanted to do a machine x machine section and for better or worse this serves that purpose.


 

-13 May 2022

Chase caught the bundle of cloths and began redressing himself, a number of things falling from his pockets, only serving to further irritate him. He was sick of getting tossed from agency to agency. FSB, SVR, CIA, DoS, NSA, who was next, he wondered.  He could feel Anya’s cannons brush against his arm as she dew close to him, she didn’t trust this new agent, there was something about him she didn’t like.

“Now, what does the Central Intelligence Agency want with me?” Chase skeptically questioned as he buttoned the cuffs of his shirt and adjusted his tie. He was pissed, only seconds away from being pleasured by his Hind for a second time and then interrupted by yet another cocky federal agent.

“Not you Chase. The CIA needs the both of you for this.” Agent Mastin said, lighting up a cigarette, the flame from his lighter reflecting in his clichéd dark sunglasses. “The CIA cleared you two days after the Victory Day incident. You’re no threat to national security just an American in the wrong place at the wrong time, or the right place, it’s perspective I suppose. The State Department is slow and more cautious, that’s why you had the shadow.” He took a deep drag of the cigarette, the orange ember glowing in the dim hangar. If “every CIA agent in every movie ever made” was the impression he was going for, he nailed it.

“You and your bird here are in a unique position to do good for the American people. You are, however, not required to accept but, I can guarantee there are certain perks to working with the CIA and certain” he took a perfectly timed puff of the cigarette to add an ominous tone “drawbacks to refusing.”

To Chase it sounded like a threat as it was no doubt intended, “What kind of ‘perks’ are we talking about?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out, but just know the CIA takes good care of its people”

“Alright” Anya chimed in “what is the mission?”

“You’ll be briefed later, don’t worry yourself about that now.”

Chase could feel Anya crouching down next to him, like a defensive predator. He reached over and put a hand on her side. It calmed her but he could still feel she was tense. How he could feel a helicopter as tense was beyond him but, he just could. “You know, right now you’re making a Hind uneasy, not a good thing to do.”

Mastin smirked “I like you kid, you’ve got balls, and you…” he leaned in taking a closer look at Anya “You got some sharp teeth.” He dropped the stump of the cigarette on the floor and ground it out under his shoe “The USS. Eisenhower will be in the Mediterranean Sea for the next two days. You’ll make your way there before they leave and fly in at night under the cover story of transporting a Hind back to the JRTC. And remember, the fact that you’re even working for the CIA is classified so just play your roll. Then just sit tight until you’re briefed on the mission. You’ll have to make your way out of Russia via Helsinki then south from there.” Mastin reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a packet of folded papers. “Here is your flight plan with approved airfields and a radio frequency to contact the Eisenhower once you get there. I take it you don’t have any crypto gear so we’ll have the comm geeks put some gear in at Ramstein” He handed over the papers.

Chase unfolded them and began reading them over, Anya looking over his shoulder. “Some of these flights are over nine hundred kilometers between fueling, I can make just over four hundred in ideal conditions.” Anya said, already beginning to doubt his plan.

Mastin nodded, “The agency procured some auxiliary fuel tanks. Just consider them a good faith gift.” He turned away and began walking out “See you on the ship.”

“I don’t like him.” Anya said as soon as he had exited.

“Don’t worry, he’s just a typical agency spook” Chase replied, fastening his belt and fixing his collar.

“What do you think he wants us to do? I would think your intelligence agency would not trust a Russian so easily.”

“Anya, I’m just as confused about this as you. Are you ok with doing this?”

She smiled, her tone changing, “It sounds exciting, doing a super-secret mission for your American CIA.”

Chase had to agree, the prospect did sound exciting, “Alright then, let’s go on a mission.”

Chase stooped down to retrieve the contents of his pockets, finally coming to Leonid’s business card. There was something he hadn’t noticed before, on the back of the card he there was a handwritten note but just as he was about to read the message he heard the squeak of well used breaks just outside the hangar door, followed by the even louder screaching of the hangar door being pulled open. Quickly he shoved the card in his pocket in case it was Mastin coming back.

Chase watched as an old, well used Ural truck backed into the hangar. The man who had opened the door did a half run over to the back of the truck and dropped the tailgate. A team of three more men in dirty gray coveralls jumped from the back of the truck and without saying anything began unloading large fuel pods.

One of the men retrieved a paper wrapped package from the passenger seat of the truck and ran over to chase, pushing the item onto his hands before hurrying back to the other men who had just finished lifting the last tank from the back of the truck.

Anya shifted uncomfortably as the men began fixing the fuel tanks to her wing hard points. It felt weird for some reason. She had usually known her ground crews or at least talked to them. These men bustled about silently connecting lines and fastening screws without a word, only the occasional quiet instruction from one to another. She had to admit, they were efficient. It was no time before they had all tanks fixed to her wings. As quickly as they had come, they loaded back into the truck and drove off. Anya looked to either side, dispatching a few tendrils to check their work.

“What do you have there?” She asked as she went over the hard point connections.

“I’m not sure” chase said feeling the soft, fair sized package in his hands. He couldn’t see any markings or writing on its surface. “Let’s find out.” He untied the twine around the parcel and ripped back the paper wrapping.

He picked up the first thing in the package, green USMC garrison cap. He flipped it over and noticed a pair of silver bars mounted toward the front. “Well I guess I’m a Captain now.” he said holding up the cover so Anya could see the emblem. He placed the cover to the side and removed a manila envelope. Inside was a new ID with his fake rank along with a set of signed orders, reflecting everything Agent Mastin had told him. Behind the orders was a paper marked “Destroy after reading” and just below that “Backstory”. He skimmed over the paper, “It says here I’m Cpt. David Mace from the Joint Readiness Training Center.”

“Well congratulations on the promotion.” She joked.

Chase kept reading until he came across a part that made him burst into laughter, “It also says” he said, catching his breath, “I’m married with five kids.”

“You’ve been busy.” Anya chuckled, “Is there something I should know about.”

“Who comes up with this stuff?” Chase said, setting the envelop to the side and removing the final object from the package. The last article was a tan flight suit with a fully equipped gear vest, boots, and a couple changes of clothing, everything he would need to look the part. “You know what Anya?” he said holding the entire thing up in front of himself so she could see, “I think they’re expecting a Pilot.” They both laughed, “You’re going to have to teach me some pilot stuff on the way over there. It’s safe to say I am not even close to the man in the profile.” He set the pile of gear on the ground and picked up the background paperwork for further review.

He had just began going over his fictitious family situation when another mil-surplus truck pulled up and began backing into the hangar. “Chow’s here.” He said as a pair of men began prepping the fuel truck.

“That’s the good stuff right?” chase said in English. He laughed as they both froze, looking to one another, both confused as most likely neither spoke a work of English. “I’m just kidding” he said in Russian. Both forced a quick fake laugh before going back to work fueling the helicopter.

Chase covered his ears as the deafeningly inefficient old pump was started. “Geez, were you guys still in Afghanistan when that was put on? No offence.” He said looking back to Anya

As soon as the fuel truck had left, Chase changed into his pilot uniform and in the dying light of the unusually warm Russian day they taxied out onto the runway for their nearly 30 hour, 4000 Km journey. The flight plan showed 4 stops and a grand total of around 18 hours in the air.

“How does it feel leaving home?” Chase asked through the Mic in his comm helmet as they took off.

“To be honest with you Chase, I’m ready to leave. I am a proud Russian and yet I was bound for the boneyard, it was time to leave. I only regret I cannot save others that fate.”

Chase knew exactly the places she was talking about. In the US the living machines were spared this fate but they still existed for those machines that were not. The thought of them had always bothered him but he had come to live with the fact there was nothing he could do. He sat back and relaxed in the pilot’s seat watched the lights from the city grow smaller and fall into the distance behind them.

The flight to Helsinki was just under 4 hours. Anya had let Chase doze off to the muffled thunder of her rotors. She found it nice letting him sleep in her cockpit, she didn’t mind doing the flying.

She woke him a few miles out from the Helsinki airport. Instructions were not to contact the air traffic controller and proceed directly to an isolated unlit section of the airport. As they descended to the runway a couple of what chase assumed to be agency men in runway attendant uniforms waited next to a fuel truck.

With a speed that would rival a formula 1 pit crew, the team began refilling Anya’s tanks and in no time the men had pulled back the hose and given them the takeoff signal.

Another 4 hour flight and they reached the Copenhagen airport and underwent the same touch-and-go pit stop. As soon as the hoses had been unbuckled, under the cover of darkness they were off for Germany.

The sun had just began coming up as the left Denmark and crossed the border into Germany. Now that they had light Anya began her instructional period on the basics of being a pilot, Chase’s joke of it being a “Crash course” going right over Anya’s head.

She made it increasingly hard to focus on the flying portion as one of her tendrils made its way up the leg of his flight suit and began playing with his cock, gently stroking it to full erection.

“A combat pilot has to be able to perform under stress.” She said as he began squirming in his seat almost unable to keep his mind on flying.

Chase laughed, stress had never felt so good. It was too perfect up here to waist it on instruction so he leveled her off and sat back looking over the landscape of clouds outside the cockpit, taking in a deep relaxing breath as she continued stroking him. The rhythmic thumping of her rotors, there was something incredibly soothing about it.

The scene was beautiful way up here, the solid blanket of clouds extended for as far as the eye could see, seeming to make a second earth on top of the first, a pure white second skin. While it may have been dark and dreary on the ground, up here the sun shown bright across everything.

Chase let his mind wander as he looked across this white heaven. He wished he and Anya could live up here forever, far above all the troubles that inhabited the earth below.

She could tell his mind was now other places so she took control back and allowed him to daydream while she flew.

“We’re almost there.” Anya said, bringing Chase back to reality. She began rapidly descending through the layer of clouds revealing the earth below. As the haze from the cloud disappeared the sprawling green countryside of southern Rhineland came into view. It had been years since Chase had been to Germany, he didn’t hate to admit it, he had missed this place. They flew low over the mountainous terrain, over towns that had changed little from the small villages they had been a century ago.

The air traffic controller of Rammstein Air force Base directed them to a landing pad to the south of the main runway. Chase returned a confirmation and they began descending toward the cluster of hangars toward the southern extremity of the base. From what it had been decades ago, Rammstein AFB had expanded into a sprawling military complex. Chase watched as the ground grew closer and closer until he felt Anya’s wheels touch pavement.

“Welcome to Germany.” Chase said as her rotors slowed.

He stretched as he stepped down onto the tarmac, it felt good to use his legs after 8 hours of sitting. No sooner had he exited than he saw a Humvee tearing across the asphalt towards him. Chase removed his helmet and replaced it with the garrison cap, immediately taking it back off as he noticed there was something inside the cover. “Oh, fuck yeah!” he said pulling a pair of aviator sunglasses from inside the cover.

“I feel the need…” he said putting on the glasses.

“What are you talking about?” Anya said, confused at the abstract statement.

“The need for speed.” Chase finished under his breath.

The Humvee rolled to a halt next to them and a young Airman stepped out of the passenger side. “Good afternoon, Sir.” She said snapping him a salute.

Chase had almost forgot he was an officer now and hastily returned the salute. “I was sent out to let you know there’s quarters for in the TDY officer’s barracks. Also, the mess hall is open until 1400, building 18756. If you’ll hop in the Humvee we’ll get you there.”

“What about my bird, gonna need some fuel.”

“Ah, that will be the 15 area fuel depot, they will be sending out a fuel truck at 1500. Oh, and that reminds me, Comm shop will be sending some techs out to install some gear at 1530. So, if you want a ride we can get going.”

“You know what?” Chase said, “I think I’ll make my own way there.”

The Airman nodded, “Yes, sir.” Then hopped back in the Humvee and took off across the tarmac.

“Well, it looks like we have some time.” Chase turned back to Anya, looking over the length of her long broad body. She was really something else.

His thought were interrupted by the sound of a jet coming in fast toward the runway. He watched as a plane he couldn’t identify touched down on the main runway, flaps flaring as the vehicle slowed to a roll. He had never flown in a fighter but he imagined that pilot just had the time of his life.

The sleek fighter took a turn onto the taxi way and into a hangar area not that far from them. Getting a closer look, Chase noticed the lack of a pilot then the presence of a steely blue eye just below the cockpit.

As it got a closer look he remembered that plane, a US prototype from some decades back, a YF-23 but he couldn’t remember the manufacturer. Yet another example of an older model being brought back into service for the fact that they were alive.

‘That’s something you don’t see every day’ Chase thought to himself.

Looking over his shoulder he saw Anya’s eyes fixed on the fighter as it stopped in front of a hangar. She wasn’t just staring, she was fixated by the plane.

“You alright Anya?” Chase said, snapping her from the trance.

“Oh, yes. I’m fine.” She replied as if the question had startled her.

“Don’t lie, I know that look, you were eyeing that plane.”

Anya almost seemed embarrassed. “I never thought I would see one in real life.”

“You want that jet, don’t you?” Chase said smiling at her. He could see right through her.

“Wha… Chase I’m with you now.”

“Anya” He said stopping her “This is an opportunity you’ll get maybe once in a life time, there are, I think, only two of those in existence. We have this bond thing and if I recall right it’s not going away. If you want that jet go and get it. Like I said, we’ve got time.”

“I couldn’t, it’s no big deal”

“Come on Anya, you’re practically dripping right now. Go enjoy yourself, you’re free to do whatever you want now. Think of it as a liberation gift to yourself, your emancipation proclamation after party. I’ll go get some food. Now go have fun.”

“But this is a military base, I just can’t go rolling around wherever I like.” She protested.

“Screw that, just try. There’s no sense in living if you can’t feel alive.”

“What if it’s a she?”

“There’s one way to find out.” Chase said turning and walking toward the nearest building. She needed to have some fun, he hoped this was a push in the right direction.

As he walked away, Anya found herself alone on the airstrip. For a second it didn’t feel right, but then she looked back to the jet and a devious grin spread across her face. Casually she began moving over toward the stationary Fighter.

She moved slowly, hoping to time her introduction with the departure of its fuel truck. As she approached she heard she heard its voice, a steely cool, charismatic male voice.

“So you’re the Hind I saw coming in?” He said turning to face her, “I’ll admit, I was a little surprised. I’ve never actually seen a Hind before. So what brings you to Rammstein?”

She couldn’t believe this jet, incredibly sleek and sharp. If ever a vehicle were to look like the edge of a blade, it was him. “On our way back to the US, transfer to a training center.” Anya replied.

“So, what’s your name?”

This Idle conversation was nearly unbearable, “It’s Anya, Anya Mil.”

“Huh, nice name. I’m Denver but, everybody calls me Ghost, an old nickname but it does the trick. So, what’s your pilot going to think of you coming over here?”

She still couldn’t get over the cool confidence in his voice. “What do you mean?”

“Come on, I saw the way he looks at you, the way you look at him. You two are together.”

“He told me to enjoy myself.”

“Well in that case I’d like to invite you back to my hangar. Maybe I can help you enjoy yourself.”

Anya couldn’t believe it was that easy. It was even more unbelievable that chase had told her to. She was going to thank him every way she could as soon as they were alone again but, for right now, she was focused on the gorgeous fighter leading her to his hangar.

As soon as they entered Denver’s hangar the door slid closed behind them. The hangar was spacious enough for the two of them but not much else.

“So have you ever been with a helicopter before?” Anya said, hoping to start some dialogue.

“You would be the first and Anya, I have to tell you I couldn’t imagine a better first, you are a beautiful girl. Your pilot is a lucky man and you’re lucky to have him. It’s not common for a human to share their lover.”

“Cha… my pilot” she caught herself before saying his name, remembering that he was using a fake name, “is a great guy, I owe a lot to him.”

Anya almost couldn’t wait, being alone with this new and exciting machine was almost too much. She could almost feel herself getting wet at the thought of this plane inside of her. With a hum of servos and mechanics she brought her rotors to the rear and moved in close next to Denver, brushing her hull against his.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a fighter but, I think I can still remember a thing or two.” Anya said, extending a pair of tendrils to the jet’s underbelly, gently tracing the edges of his intakes before moving farther down his underbelly, rubbing the smooth stealth surfaces. “There it is.” She said as the long hard appendage emerged from its housing. Carefully she wrapped a tendril around it. She felt Denver shudder as her tendril ran up its length. He was unbelievably hard and she was loving it, she wanted every inch of his hot member inside of her.

Back and forth she rubbed him, listening to his low moans of pleasure, rubbing her armored face against his fuselage. She must have been doing something right, she could already sense the globs of pre that dripped from his throbbing member.

“How does that feel, am I getting it right?”

“Mmmmh, yeah.” Denver said, closing his eyes. He didn’t have to tell her, the low hum from his spooling engines said everything.

“Good.” She said, retracting the tendrils and moving back. Slowly she lowered herself onto her side, giving Denver his first look at the dripping gray synthport between her landing gear. With the tip of her tongue Anya licked her lips, leaving the faintest hint of gray around her mouth.

Denver, taking the hint, lined up nose to nose with her and with a little maneuvering got one of his landing gear up on her fuselage. With a little more maneuvering she felt his heat enter her mouth. She took as much as she could between her lips, thankful she didn’t have to worry about teeth with him. This jet was big, hot and already oozing globs of pre into her mouth as she began using her tongue to rub the length of his shaft. It wasn’t hard for her to get him to squirm the closer she got to his tip.

Flexing his body and rolling on his landing gear made it possible for him to get a little in and out movement but it didn’t take much to bring him to the cusp of orgasm. Between her sucking, and all the things she could do with her tongue he felt like he couldn’t take it any longer.

“Anya, I’m about to cum.” he said trying to give her warning so she could let off but she wasn’t showing any sign of stopping. With this warning she started going even harder until she could feel his entire airframe shaking on top of her. Liters of machine seed gushed into her mouth, the hot heavy gel pouring from him like a river.

He let out a long low moan as the sensation hit him, a moan that was sure to have been heard by anyone near.

Anya held the warm seed in her mouth while he dismounted. As soon as he was clear she spit the load out onto his hangar floor, leaving a pool of the silvery machine cum.

“Aren’t you worried of someone outside hearing us?”

He laughed, still recovering from the aftershock of the orgasm, “I’m a prototype. My model will never reach production. I really don’t care what anyone thinks. If I’m enjoying some mind blowing sex with a Hind, I’m not going to hold back just because I’m afraid of anyone hearing. Now if you don’t mind, I believe it’s my turn.”

He moved back and lined his nose up with the slit between her landing gear. A little lifting on his nose wheel and he could just reach. It was his turn to make her squirm for him. He could feel her heat on his nosecone as he licked his lips and went in. His heavy synth metal tongue broke the surface and pushed deeper and deeper between her engorged lips.

He could taste her machine goodness as he pushed as deep as he can into her, his tongue squirming like a trapped snake. Anya could do nothing to resist as she writhed and moaned on the cold cement floor. He gave that a few minutes then pulled out and jammed his tongue against her clit. Her tender bead was assaulted mercilessly, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her airframe.

“So how’s that?” he said pulling back and licking her juices from his lips.

“Oh please, don’t stop.” Anya moaned.

His mouth spread into a grin, razor sharp teeth glistening in the overhead light. “Don’t worry, we’re not done yet.”

A little maneuvering and Denver was able to mount her airframe, placing his body half way on top in line with hers. She could feel the heat resonating from his body as he pressed his fuselage against hers. She moaned with excitement as she felt the hot throbbing appendage sandwiched between their bodies.

“Well Ghost, what are you waiting for?”

“A little anxious are we?” Denver said as he shifted himself into position, placing himself at the lips of her dripping pussy.

It was hot and hard as it slid into her, pushing to its full depth, her walls filled to their max by his hot metallic girth. If she could roll her head back like she’d seen in the videos, that’s exactly what she would have been doing, the feeling was exquisite.

A little flexing of his airframe and he withdrew halfway, still leaving himself a fair depth in her.

“How does that feel?”

Anya let out a long breath, “Mmmh that felt great.” She could feel her body gripping his member tightly, no doubt bringing him great pleasure.

Slowly he began a thrusting into her, picking up a slow gentle rhythm. He prided himself on being a lover who knew what he was doing, gentle and passionate would lead to faster paced more energetic sex followed by fast and hard. Right now he was in the passionate and gentle phase. They both could feel the texture of the others skin as he pushed himself up and down on her.

This was good but he really wanted to make her scream. Sending a pair of tendrils along between their bodies until he found her clit, gently massaging the bundle of nerves, with satisfying results.

Anya did her best to keep her moans low and discreet, secrecy had been the name of the game at Kubinka so being discreet was in her nature.

“Why do women here always try to keep it in, try to keep quiet? If you’re enjoying it, who cares who hears.” It was clear he didn’t care, his grunts and groans with every thrust could no doubt be heard well beyond the walls of the hangar.

Anya had been wet just looking at him and with hardly any effort at all and no fear of repercussion she was screwing him, this freedom thing was feeling good.

She had started feeling his pace picking up more and more with each thrust until she could feel the power of his thrusts moving her on the concrete, the wet squishes of his hull against her pussy now becoming wet slapping. Little by little the temperature in the room began to rise as his engines began picking up, pushing out a scorching hot torrent of air into the hangar.

With the final phase of Denver’s method in play everything became faster, he slammed into her relentlessly, thrust after thrust, each more powerful than the last, his long hard airplane cock ruthlessly assaulting her pussy. Loud scraping sounds resounded through the hangar as the momentum of each repetition pushed the couple a centimeter further across the floor, leaving deep gouges in the cement. This was an experience one machine could experience only from another, such intensity would have killed even the most durable human.

Anya moaned long and loud for him as each powerful movement from his massive body drove her closer to orgasm. It wasn’t long before she felt the jet quivering, his grunts becoming more erratic “Anya, mmh, I’m c…” his sentence was broken by a deep moan as he blew a hearty load of hot jet cum inside her. The strong flow of the steamy gel forced its way as deep inside her as possible before squirting out around the edges of his cock, splattering the floor with the silvery gray liquid.

“You better not stop!” Anya growled as she felt him begin to slow “I’m not done with you yet.”

A few seconds later she could feel herself reaching the cusp of orgasm as Denver continued pounding her. As it reached her, she felt her airframe go ridged, the intense sensation of the climax sweeping over her. As she came, her juices joined the mess of machine fluids on the floor.

Neither wanted to move. Despite being machines, good sex could often leave them with a feeling of exhaustion. The hangar was sweltering hot and the cleanup crew would have a hell of a time cleaning up the pool of unspeakables in the middle of the floor.

“So, was it good for you?” Denver said, finding the age old cliché amusing.

 

“So, you gonna tell me how it went?” Chase said as they reached cruising altitude.

“I’ll tell you all about it later my dear.” She replied, “At least one of us has to concentrate on flying.”


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Nazi Warbird love

The following is a story By Steel Thunder and corresponds to this image http://www.titanatelier.com/original/4287/

 

It was a late summer afternoon, you where getting ready for work, brushing your hair and dressing yourself. The work itself was boring, just stick around some stuffy old war machines at a local bone yard/museum, make sure nobody broke in to cause trouble, keep the place clean, simple stuff. Boring stuff. But it paid well, and your bills and school loan debts where not gonna disappear any time soon. Donning your work jumpsuit which had its fair share of share of smears and stains, it greatly annoyed you that you couldn’t get them out, you sigh and collect your car keys and head on out the door.

An hours drive later you’ve parked your car and engaged the lock, hearing the satisfactory beep you skip up the stairs and greet your shift boss, on his way out. you make your way over into the atrium where the vehicles rest when suddenly something cold and slimy hits you in the neck. See what they didn’t tell you when they offered the job, is that the vehicles themselves are rather much alive, some rather senile, and some where total dicks. pulling a rag from your pocket you wiped yourself clean and glared daggers at the offending Sopwith Camel that hung from the ceiling as its entire chassis rattled with its laughter.

A few years back, vehicles began springing to life, with minds of their own. Cop cars, buses, fire trucks, military vehicles, RC cars, planes, jets, boats, new and old. Things started to get hairy, but most countries around the world quickly folded and started treating all machines with signs of sentience as equals to humans. Those that didn’t either found themselves either not existing or going back to horse drawn carriages. Nobody knows how it started or why it happened, but the world was never the same since.

“Real funny there” you grimace, some of it got in your hair, said hair had taken you more time than usual to wrangle in today. With a sigh of annoyance you head to the bathroom passing by an old Ju-87 Stuka dive bomber, he raises a flap in salute, and you respond in turn by raising your hand and half heartedly exclaiming “Heil Hitler” getting a throaty chuckle out of the old war bird.

As you bend over into the wash basin, and you chuckle as your mind drifts to the Stuka. Out of all the tanks, Jeeps, trucks and planes here, he was the only one you liked and could relate to. Bit grumpy at times, but you two almost always got along. You walk out and into the storage closet to grab your cleaning supplies and roll it all in a cart towards the Stuka, today was his lucky day. It was bath time.

“C’mon old man, its your turn today” you say as you duck each of his wheels from the dais he sits upon, and lower the ramp so he can roll down. Another perk of being a living vehicle, some things just work, like wheels, giving vehicles autonomous movement, even without gas. His engine whirs to life for a second, belching out some smoke from his exhaust pipes and be begins the slow roll out through the hangar door built into the atrium, out into the bone yard outside.

As he rolls out the doors you hear the Sopwith chuckling again, you shrug, who knows what that crazy old coot was giggling over. You bring your attention over to your German friend, he seems to be grumbling about some creaky joints in his backwheel, you tell him you’l take a look at it after washing him. Connecting the hose, and running it over him a few times, you hear him make a sound that sounds somewhat like “brrr”, you chuckle.

“Cold?” you ask, smirk on your face.

“Nein, just feels nice. Besides, I can’t feel cold.” he said with a heavy German accent. You always found it nice, pleasant to the ear.

“I know I know. You guys don’t feel, you are aware of temperature, heat, and other sensations.” you drone on, having heard it multiple times from your boss and from the various info-mercials about them.

“But we do feel pain, from damage.” He shifts, his frame leaning side to side, more surprises, the vehicles can do things they couldn’t do before once they come to life.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get that back wheel fixed” rubbing his side in a comforting manner, you smile as you see the nose where his propellers rest bob up and down, nodding. His left wing bends down slightly allowing you to climb on up and begin washing him down. After a few minutes you begin towelling him off. Half an hour later when the sun is beginning to dip down behind the horizon you start going over maintenance. Once a vehicle comes to life, it can generally go on functioning even with a bunch of nuts and bolts loose or mossing, but as they age, or if they are a vehicle of particular age, they still require a helping hand to fix their small problems.

Holding your small LED light in your mouth you begin scurrying about his whole frame, checking every rivet, every joint, and every cranny you can for signs of damage, simple things like some light rust, or a loose screw you where equipped to deal with right here, beyond that would require you haul him into the machine shop. Finally satisfied with the state of his frame, you walk over to his tail, sliding your hand against it the whole way, you could have sworn you saw him shudder when your hand left his side. Kneeling down you break out your tools and begin tending to his tail wheel.

“You know. You really make me feel young again.” He says with some mirth behind it, to which you giggle a response.

“Oh yes, you where ‘born’ two years ago.” you say as you begin oiling the wheel.

“Ja, but its what I feel that matters no?” He’s silent for a few moments.

“So I was told you are into Germans eh” he grumbled out, with a sizeable quantity of mirth behind it.

You stand up sputtering, smacking your head against his tail wing, then falling on your ass. You grown in pain, rubbing the top of your freshly traumatized skull, when you opened your eyes you saw he had turned around and was now “facing” you.

“Didn’t hurt yourself too much?” with some concern in that voice of his.

“No, im fine, its not that bad” you lie, wincing a bit when you touch the area. YOu also notice that he has slid out his mechadentrites, another thing the living vehicles have, multiple long mechanical tentacles that end in various tools. They seem to be scanning your head or something, he quickly shoos them back into his body, leaving but one for you to grab a hold of and pull yourself up.

“So, still interested in dating German I take it, or did that hit knock it out of your system?” Again, sputtering and stuttering denials and your cheeks grow molten with heat. He quickly tells you he knows you are lying, and finally after some teasing you break and tell him about your tastes, specifically for the exotic. What happened next, you would have never imagined in your life.

“Well, I could give you a first hand experience on what it is like to date a German man you know”

That haunted you for the next couple of months as you worked day in and day out. It didn’t help he was eerily quiet for the most part during those months, and to top it off, your growing frustration, emotional, and sexual was mounting up. It all came crashing down one evening, right after washing him and oiling his wheels again when you brought the subject up again.

“S-so how would this work exactly?” you stutter out your question, fiddling with the pockets of your jumpsuit and finding the ground highly interesting. You had heard of people who had gone into relationships with living vehicles, sure to some and in some places it was rather taboo, but its not like people bitched about it much. Kinda hard to deny rights to a group of people when they aren’t really “people” and they come with 120mm cannons strapped to them or can fly and drop bombs on you.

“Well we can consider this half way through are date, you’ve taken me out, you’ve given me some nice treatment, and we could say you fed me by oiling my wheels.” There he went again, with that thick, heavy German accent that made you feel funny in all the right places. Speaking of places, you just noticed his mechadendrites had come out and where massaging your back and playing with the curls of your hair, some evening daring to rub on your hip and thighs.

“Oh-o-kay, a-and what’s the other half?” you ask, rather nervous, and terribly turned on.

“Oh but that is simple my leibchen” he said with a chuckle, rolling up closer to you, his nose an inch away from yours.

“I ficke on ze first date.” suddenly you saw the sky, followed by the gravel that was once beneath you as his mechanical members had pulled you off your feet and unto the ground right under him, you felt them snaking around your body, pulling the zipper of your jumpsuit, while multiple others took off your boots, and slithered up your legs. You gasped meanwhile and where shocked to find they where pleasantly warm, and not cold as you had expected the metal appendages to be.

“W-wait! Wait! I don’t consent to this! Put me down now!” you half heartedly screamed, you couldn’t deny this was a massive turn on. Your crotch was on fire, and you remembered back in your college day you shared a dorm room with a rather crazy chick who was heavily into Japanese tentacle porn, and while at the time it disgusted you, you did have some pictures and videos on the subject on your own hard drive.

“Schatzchen, I can sense your pheromone levels and gehirn patterns. You want this almost more than I do.” Damn these blasted sentient machines, with senses past our own, almost unable to lie to their faces, relatively speaking. Red faced you agreed with the smallest of voices, to which he quipped about not being able to hear you with his old age, on and on till he got you to practically scream it out. You where damn lucky, or unlucky that your boss usually left before sundown, leaving you alone all night to keep company and entertain the senile relics the museum. And now alone to the whims of the dive bomber.

You felt a slight chill as your jumpsuit and underclothing was pulled off, leaving you with but only socks to protect your shame, not that they where very effective. You squirmed like some lab animal about to be dissected live, tugging at your bonds out of instinct. You gasp as something, no, some things, begin slithering across your body, and nipping at the skin. His smaller tentacles had grasping ‘mouths’ which where currently nibbling at all her sensitive spots across her body, two had latched on to a nipple each and where kneading greedily. A third had taken residence accosting your clitoris and four had been alternating between rubbing your quickly moistening sex and nibbling and tugging at your labia.

“Y-you fuck. S-stop teasing me!” you bark at him, to which he chuckles at, with a distinct sound of his engine beginning to whir to life.

“My My, such language, I need to discipline you.” as he finished saying so, and before you could open your mouth to protest, one of the smaller appendages had dis-engaged from its ministrations and promptly whipped you, across your ass cheeks, producing a yelp of pain, which he silenced by forcing a larger member of his, long, black and steel grey in your mouth.

“Mmmmfff MMmmM!” you attempted to scream at him.

“No no my dear, do not speak with your mouth full, its unbecoming of a lady.” more appendages joined into the fray of stimulating your hole body, the veteran ones had begun to probe the depths of your sopping wet sex, forcing you to squirm and moan into the tentacle currently sliding in and out of your mouth. Suddenly you felt something large and warm press up against your entrance.

“Don’t be afraid, relax your body.” he utters seemingly dripping with lust in his voice, but still enough mind to care for you. You moaned out an affirmative, and relaxed yourself for him. It began sliding in, it being his tentacular cock, sliding in all the way and kissing your cervix, pulling its way out and then beginning to rhythmical pump back in, stopping right before your cervix as to not hurt you, before repeating its horizontal mambo.

You moan and groan like old scaffolding under heavy weight as his tentacles work your body like dough in the hands of a baker. Your toes curl as you feel the small nibbler tentacles begin to lightly twist and pinch at your nipples and clit. A few of smaller of the smaller appendages that explored your watery meat hole began scouting for something, and soon found their treasure. You scream into the tentacle occupying your mouth as you feel your G-spot being rub in, hard. Forcing you to your first living machine induced orgasm.

“Culminating already? I haven’t even begun.” you tremble, whatever deity that may or may not exist, help you. Machines don’t feel fatigue, and you begin anticipating, with trepidation, and arousal, the possibility of being quite literally fucked to death. A minute later after allowing you a breather his thrusting began anew, the ministrations across your entire body resumed, and you felt another orgasm quickly building up. You felt some shame, you remember your mother having asked when you would be giving her some grand kids. shame now you knew it wouldn’t happen as you where turning into a slave for machine cock.

“Mein Liebchen, I am close.” His tentacles sped up, the one in your mouth was now venturing down into your throat, His engine revved and his propeller blew at full speed, fire coming out of his exhaust, the frantic squirming of the smaller ones increased. You felt all the tentacles tense on end, before your pussy and throat where invaded by a warm viscous fluid, ropes after ropes of the stuff. He gently placed you down on the ground, his smaller members caressing you one final time, before spurting some more of the fluid over you.

You tasted it, it was terrible, as terrible as you could imagine car cum to taste like, it was salty, tasted slightly like chlorine and it was oily to boot. But you swallowed what was left in your mouth and began picking yourself up before he helped you up.

“Thanks”

“Your welcome, say, how about another wash, for both of us?.” He asked, mindful of his fluids covering you.

“You mean now, or after round two?” you grin at your dive bomber companion trailing a finger across the flaps of his wing.

His engine flutters to life in response.

“I do hope you never planned on working anywhere else my dear. I’m going to make you mine from now on..” he huskily whispered, mechadendrites coming back to life and slowly approaching you.

Fin.


Alternate quote from the author:
She breathed hoarsely into the gravel, feeling her entire body luch with each rythmic thrust. Her companion’s tail bent low, thrusting his fuel line like phalluses into her tender orifices. His Jericho-Trompete’s wailing out groans of pleasure, interrupted by dirty talk in german which she didn’t understand. “You make me feel young again” he said in his thick german accent~
She panted, sweaty, covered in plane-cum, oil and engine lubricants, filled to the brim and struggling for air from shere exhaustion. Her companion creaked and groaned, equally tired from his efforts to take the nuble mechanic. A sound brought their attention to the entrance of the hangar, a tank had rolled up, and was slowly rolling in. “Greetings!” came out a thick german accent from the slightly rusted Tiger 1 tank. “I have been told you are offering some, carnal rejuvination services? Care to service me? Perhaps.. a threesome?” his engine whirred deeply, growling like a seductive predator. [insert name here] felt something hard stir against her back, turning her head she saw her Stuka companion was ready for another go.

2nd alternate quote:

“I do hope you never planned on working anywhere else my dear. I’m going to make you mine from now on..” he huskily whispered, mechadendrites coming back to life and slowly approaching you.

“Vell, I do hope zere is some room for me”

The old german warplane craned himself back and looked at his heavily armored friend “Why not, tonight’s a night of firsts”. Upon hearing this your heart began racing, and your excitement was careening out of control
without another second to waste, the stuka’s mechadendrites wrapped around your limbs, and pressed you against his belly and climbed up on top of the tank, resting you against his turret. Immediately you felt new metal appendages that belonged to the Tiger 1 under you begin to massage your buttocks and sides.

“Very soft” he muttered, enjoying what his tactile receptors where picking up.

“Indeed, but even softer on the inside” Said the warplane, forcing you to blush. A tendril rose from the tank turret between your legs and massaged your wet folds. You moaned , loving the sensation of being trapped between too machines. Soon both their mechadentrites joined in on the massaging and gentle stroking of your body. These appendages where laced with various sensors that allowed the living vehicles to feel. They enjoyed how soft your skin was, how silky your hair felt, and how moist and ready you where.

One of the Stuka’s metal members was poking on your lips, he wanted to feel your tongue. “W-wait!” you stammered. “I’m not ready for this!” you exclaimed. Stuka’s engine seemed to snort at you. “We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way. The choice is yours.” he said with finality. “B-but-” you where interrupted “She choses ze hard vay.”

Your lips parted as Stuka’s warm mechanical tentacle invades your mouth, exploring it and rubbing almost amorously against your tongue. Your objections quickly end as you feel another member poking at your wet folds, pushing into your treasure slowly. You spared a glance and saw they belonged to the Tiger tank you sat your rump upon, as his ‘Dendrites where of a dark gunmetal color, unlike The Stuka’s silver.

The field you where in became a cacophony of wet squelching noises, paired with the rumble of a diesel engine and groaning metal. Stuka bending his airframe, pressing himself into you, relishing in the feeling of your supple breasts against his belly, while tiger raised his barrel, its base rubbing up against your buttocks and taint…..

“Ve vould like to now if you are ze adventurous type” Tiger sort of asked. For a seconded you wondered what he meant, which was soon answered when you felt a small tentacle invade your rear. You had never tried anything there, and to be honest you where not feeling much, you felt no pain as the member was too small, in fact it was an odd sensation. And you believed in time you may grow to like it. Tiger seemingly sensed this, and added a few more, equally small members into your recently deflowered derrière. You moan involuntarily as the strange sensation of not completely uncomfortable anal, your first anal, and his decidedly wider alloy anaconda pounded your pussy.

This driving Tiger to new highs of arousal, his Backdoor Blitzkrieg was doing its job, and to this Stuka took notice and began pushing against the gunmetal giant currently firmly lodged inside your vagina. His silver star slayer pushes and shoves his way into you alongside Tiger’s member. You couldn’t describe it if you wanted to, the sensation of two mechanical cocks stretching out your delicate insides, and alternating between thrusts. You where helpless, pinned between a hull and a hard place and completely at the mercy of two horny machines. And like machines they fucked you for what seemed like hours.

“Im close” cried stuka, his engine firing and his propeller spinning, to which Tiger groaned out “Ja, I vill come soon!” the speed and depth of their thrusting intensified, there was not a single place on or in your body that didnt feel on fire from the not so tender ministrations of your two lovers. The combined dicks in your vagina and the swarm of smaller onces in your ass twitch and convulse, you are being flooded with more machine-muck. The swelling warmth of their cum fills your holes to the brim and it begins to spill out, they pull out and aim over your body to give you their final spurts, a nice cum coat to end a nice fuck.

Stuka and Tiger release you, their ‘dendrites retreating back under their metal plates and hatches. Stuka slides off and lands in a heap next to the large tank, “I’m alright” he calls eliciting a giggle and a diesely chuckle from the tank you currently reside on. A few minutes later you’ve washed up and redressed, escorted the vehicles back to their resting places and spent the rest of your shift lazing about. Tired you pack up, say your goodbyes and head to your car. Seatbelt on, you turn the ignition, only to be greeted by a husky voice “Aye lass, so I heard ye like men of mechanical complexion eh?” the disembodied voice comes from your radio, your rear view mirror turns as if facing you, and soon you feel the familiar sensations of mechadendrites sliding up your legs, and rubbing up against your sore sex. These seemingly covered in a velvety material.

“Oh-oh my” is the only thing you are able to respond with.

“We are gunta have ta take the scenic route home aye me lass?” the engine rumbles, and he drives off, with you captive inside.

Fin?

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