Hannah And Nikolai

This is not Hansel and Marion’s daughter Hannah, no this is a Panzer 3 assigned to the eastern front and lasted until the end of the war. It’s a little different in stance and storytelling, grimmer and darker than before.

Enjoy!

Hannah and Nikolai
Komvzvoda Nikolai Popov stirred his thick ration soup and blew on it gently, as cold as the winters were a scorched mouth is still very much unwelcome. He set the dish down on his table desk and pulled up his chair, hunching over so the steam rose into his dry and stiff face. It felt nice, a breath of hot, moist air brushing past his skin. He decided his hunger could wait no longer and began feasting upon this delicacy. He heard the crunch of snow and dirt beneath heavy boots as a soldier stepped into the room and snapped to attention. “Comrade Komvzvoda, a report on the prisoners!” In his hand was a little leaflet of paper with scribbles and stains all over it. The soldier’s uniform was ragged and oversized, or at least it would seem, and his white coat had some blood stains, mud stains, food stains, shit stains, and whateverthefuck else stains all over it. There was also a black rimmed hole in the gut and one in the chest where Nikolai could see the brown cloth that made up his springtime uniform-that coat was stolen from the dead. The man was most certainly a man, his face was wrinkled and cracked, his gaze dreary and pale like the Winter sky, and his chin grey with dead and dying hairs. He wasn’t young like most soldiers barely able to grow a beard proper, he looked old enough to have fought in the revolution. One thing was for certain; he was much older than Nikolai.
“Good.” He stretched his hand out for the paper and beckoned for it, the soldier sluggishly stepped forward and handed the report over. Nikolai received it and dismissed the soldier. He put it aside and looked about, his office was a barely intact dining room of a German house in the rural outskirts of Passow. The windows were smashed in, the roof buckled because of a bombing, the corner was only half there, and the wallpaper was peeling and blowing away. No lights worked and all he had to read this letter by was an oil lamp and what poor excuse of sunlight bled through. He sipped up some soup and read the letter. It had the usual crap on it, weapons seized, number of men, number of children, the approximate age of groups, if they’re SS, Heer, or Volkstrum. This was mostly volkstrum but there were an SS squad and a tank crew.
Interesting.
He read more about the tank crew and was reading it again and again, he couldn’t understand it. Things weren’t making sense, he kept going, again and again, thinking the writer just has to be illiterate of the sorts but it clicked. There was no crew, the tank surrendered, without a crew. He read on and it very clearly described the tank with moving eyes, a mouth, hands and arms, speaking German. He was astounded. There was a section describing what measures had been taken but he blew it off and went to go see for himself. He walked around the area searching for the prisoners and found the men, they were being searched and marched off with a light escort. Being mocked and harassed by comrades. He thought of their long, long march back to Russia. But he’s seen that before, where’s that tank?!
He searched all around until he found the Sergeant and questioned its location. The Sergeant said that the tank was escorted to the repair park for restraints. Nikolai made his way back to the mobile vehicle shop and saw it with his own two bewildered eyes. There was a German tank, a Panzer III, with bright green eyes and a scowl. It’s turret.., face.., had a human’s look of defeat, a pleading cry for mercy in its green eyes, and a quiver of fear along it’s back? He watched in astonishment as two soldiers were using chains field welded to a bracket to hold the gun elevated, there was a group unloading all the ammunition, and there were some putting handcuffs on.., hands? A confused but confident conscript was slapping heavy-duty handcuffs on snake-like metal arms with metal hands on the ends, they seemed to trace back to under the mudguards and behind the treads. Nikolai was amazed and couldn’t break his gaze away. He saw two T-34 tanks puppy guarding it with their guns trained on it. Once a series of braces and restraints had been placed on it the T-34’s started their engines and cables were attached to the T-34 towing eyes and the Panzer’s.
“Alright, you Nazi pig! Move your ass!”
“Bitte verletzt mich nicht! Ich werde es einhalten!”
“MOVE! MOVE NOW!” The T-34 in the rear rammed the Panzer.
“Nein, bitte hör auf!” The Panzer skirted off behind the leading T-34 off towards the Depot. From its voice, it sounded female. Nikolai took some interest in the tank, it’s not every day you see a living tank. Later that day he tasked a translator to interrogate the tank to learn more about it. The translator reported the tank’s model, age, gender, previous roles, and specialization. Turned out it was a Panzer III J with the Kwk 39 50mm, also called the ‘long fifty’ and was roughly 4 years old. The tank was female, and was once a battle tank in the east, but was quickly withdrawn and used as a training vehicle. Specialization wise she was useless. The best that Nikolai could think of was a practice target or a lab rat, maybe even a science project. Her fate was pretty bleak. Personally, the idea of himself taking her as a trophy interested him, it’d be much more impressive than a medal or cap or pistol. Maybe she’d be useful as a property keeper or a guard while he’s away. Later on, she might be worth a pretty penny, bail him out of work and into retirement. That was more appealing to him.
Later that night he heard feminine screams of pain and agony, learning in the morning that her gun breech was welded shut. Throughout the week Nikolai would be working and sorting documents and he’d occasionally hear the Panzer scream or cry or wail as various de-arming measures were taken like welding metal rods in place of weapons. But while he was working he’d also be pondering the idea of keeping it like his pet, a living prize. He weighed the pros and cons and decided he would do his own inspection of her to see what was the product he’d be taking. On a crisp winter morning, he stumbled through the snow that accumulated and got to the depot where conscripts were digging out various tools and vehicles. He found the Panzer and scanned over it for details. Both her eyes were predatory in stance, facing forward like a wolf, placed on the mantle by the viewport covers and were glazed over with defeat. Her mouth was closed but her lips seemed to be pouting out below the gun mount assembly. She was staring at the cuffs on her wrists, her wrists were resting on her hood in the middle, below and in line with her main gun. In her boredom and angst, she was picking paint chips off her bow. She noticed Nikolai there and shut her eyes and quivered, thoughts of more mutilations swept over her. She looked at him with large and pleading eyes, but said nothing. As far as Nikolai was informed her mutilations were finished. He walked towards her, hands interlocked behind his back, and scanned her body. Immediately he noticed the gleaming silver edges of various nuts on her treads, probably where crews practiced tread repairs, and how worn the drive sprocket was. There were various points of minute corrosion but compared to their own T-34 tanks it was almost perfect. As he made his way down her chassis he noticed long scratches and more preserved areas of paint, probably where there were mounts for some devices, and very well maintained vents. He worked his way around to the rear and inspected the engine deck and stern, he closely examined the rear idler wheels and noticed the mounts to also be shiny and well polished from removals. The engine deck hinges looked loose and used, and the towing cables were stretched and frizzing. He worked his way around and noticed the gun restraint chain was looped around the commander’s cupola, he hoped that didn’t dent the shape. Metal rods were welded into the machine gun wells and there was a metal ball welded into the gun barrel, overall he was satisfied with the condition of the vehicle and figured she’d be a wonderful display. That night after an officer meeting he came up to KomBat Petrenko and pestered him about the Panzer.
“I am aware of it, yes.”
“Well Comrade KomBat, I see no use for it, no orders pertain to its movement, and I wish to keep it personally as my trophy pet.” KomBat Petrenko was a tall and robust man, aged to grey hairs and a gaze of sternest and determination, he brushed one half of his mustache and then shook his head.
“Popov I have too much on my plate to worry about this personal matter. I’ve been selected for the Kompolka, I’m currently working with transfer documents and arrangements. I have to select a new KomBat and it’s between you and Totalv.” Totalv was the other Komvzvoda in the battalion, Nikolai knew he hated German machines and knew he’d order it to be disposed of, like anything else his platoon captured. Nikolai wouldn’t dare let him waste such a trophy. “I tell you what, I’m busy, so if you do become KomBat I’ll sign off on whatever papers you send past me, the same for Totalv, I’ll properly brief you two later, now let me be.”
“Thank you, Comrade KomBat!” They saluted and parted ways. Totalv could not become the KomBat, at all costs. Nikolai pondered his options of ensuring his promotion while eating supper. He looked into his plate and his solution was right there! He quickly scarfed down his meal and went off to find a certain conscript he knew of. It didn’t take long to find him, he was a very rambunctious and social guy with a very particular background. He worked with sickness and poisons. Nikolai pulled him to the side and briefed him. “Listen very closely, Comrade, I have a proposition for you. You mustn’t tell anyone about this, at all, ever. If you do this task for me, I will see you sent to the rear, safely, and alive. Do you accept?” He pondered for a little bit, he was proud to serve his motherland honorably, but he had seen too much, and as of recently been having too many close calls. He decided that maybe this was his chance to survive and he took it. “Good, good. Very good. Now, here’s what your task is: you will incapacitate Komvzvoda Totalv, whether he dies or is very sickly is no matter to me. I just want him gone. Do you understand?” He did, said he even had an idea, too.
Four days later Komvzvoda Totalv fell ill with influenza and was barely alive. Medical tried their best to save him but the Winter was too harsh, and the sickness too withering. He died in his sleep not a week after. Nikolai was very troubled to see him have to die, but it was done. The next morning with no decision to make Kompolka Petrenko promoted Nikolai to KomBat. Nikolai wasted no time thanking and congratulating the conscript who poisoned Totalv’s food, and conveyed his sadness of Totalv’s death but ensured him that he would be sent home. Nikolai drafted up a document to transfer the Panzer over to himself and thought of a way to get the conscript out. After all, he might just talk to someone. About this time Nikolai had used a Nazi officer to maximum potential, being able to extract as much information from him as possible, and didn’t feel like keeping him around. So like any reasonable thing to do with a Nazi he was going to kill him, but wait!
Nikolai hoisted the Nazi to his feet and pushed him to the door with his pistol. He marched him out, way out, out to the frontline while being very careful to follow his footsteps exactly, and marched him to the conscripts foxhole where he was on watch. He stood him over the foxhole, took the rifle from the sleeping conscript, and shot the Nazi in the chest. The shot woke the conscript with a sudden jolt, who’s hand was met by the blunt end of a rifle butt. Nikolai smashed his hand in, breaking and fracturing it. He knelt down and helped the conscript and told him his plan. “This, this is Home!” He said shaking the conscripts shattered hand. “This will take you home! Now go! Go report to medical and say you shot this officer trying to escape!”
“But my hand!”
“He smashed your hand! Now go! Go!” He yanked the conscript up and pushed him off towards the small village. Once again, Nikolai carefully retraced and went back to his quarters, and slept soundly. In no time the conscript was sent to the rear and all the paperwork went through. Nikolai now owned that Panzer, but in turn, he had more time he had to serve with the military. He wasn’t worried, military life had been generous to him so far, and he’s been leading a charmed life.
The war had been slowing down, orders weren’t coming through, and so he spent more and more time inspecting the tank. He really liked the eyes, the Germans really put in the effort for her eyes. He was almost envious of her eyes, actually. He really noticed the fine details that the Germans put into their tanks, more comfortable, spacious, easy controls and smooth, the careful attention put in to every weld and facet. He was impressed. The Panzer seemed to be getting more and more desolate every day, he didn’t want her to try killing herself so he ordered some rations for it and to find her something to do, something that wasn’t digging graves for the dead. They made her clear snow off the roads and paths with a shovel, puppy guarding her again with tanks and anti-tank rifled soldiers. She looked a little better, she had something to do, some competition with herself to keep herself up. Soon it all started to thaw and spring arrived. Word came back that Berlin was under siege and surrounded. The war was almost over! Celebrations were had throughout the village, their battalion was being used as a flank guard from any resistance pockets and the war was ending, a premature celebration of what was certain to come. While everyone was merry and celebrating together, the Panzer seemed distraught and was locked up and all alone. Nikolai felt a little sympathetic towards it so he got a fresh bottle of vodka and told the translator to give it to her with the message “Congratulations! The war is over! A toast to peace!” He would do it himself but his new position found him up to his ears in paperwork and reports. He sat in his makeshift office where he had a view of the interaction, the simple gift and acknowledgement that she existed seemed to boost her spirits. Once the translator walked off the tank looked at the bottle and shot glass and put the glass aside. Then tipping up the bottle, taking a large swig. “Me, too, Panzer,” Nikolai said as he did the same.
Once the war did end and the dust settled Nikolai found he had time to go home but his term of service was not over. He decided he’d take the translator to help him get the Panzer on the train to take them back where he lives. He noticed the Panzer was hesitant to obey but did obey the commands translated to it. It was moved to the train and drove up a ramp and tied down. That evening the train set off for Russian lands. It was a few days later when the train arrived at Nikolai’s stop and they offloaded. Nikolai didn’t live very far from the train yard, very convenient in this matter, but it was just far enough to be secluded and for him to have a small farm. Well, he did have a farm but since he left it was neglected and destroyed and was now an overgrown entanglement of brush. The last order of the translator to the Panzer was to follow Nikolai’s car to a house. He said that she’d be taken care of, there. She followed the small car through dirt roads, open fields, and eventually into a wooded area where in the small clearing was a small wooden house and a good size barn. The livestock died long ago and Nikolai’s elder parents were moved to a city to live with more stable family. It was now just Nikolai, what’s left of his dead farm, and the Panzer. Nikolai pulled off to the side of the barn to park the car between the barn and the house, he got out and looked at the Panzer, she was watching him move like a fearful child, waiting to be scolded for their actions. He locked his gaze with hers as he closed the car up and moved over to the barn. Opening the doors he kept glancing back to ensure the opening was big enough for her, once he was happy the doors were open enough he looked inside, plenty of room for her to move around. It wasn’t a lot of room, but she could fit about two widths of her inside with a walkway between the two panzers. Thankfully it was only her. He stepped aside and looked over to her. “Alright Panzer go right on in.” She looked at him cluelessly. He rolled his eyes and pointed inside and at her, back and forth. “Panzer, go into the barn. Go.” She looked at him, the barn, back to him again. Not understanding or willing. He thought back and recalled some words that the translator used to make her move. He gave her a lot of attitude when he pointed to the barn again. “Los.”
“Da drin?” She looked into the barn nervous and anxious. Nikolai grew angry.
“LOS! LOS NOW!” He screamed at her, turning red with anger. She jumped back and whimpered as she scooted into the barn. He closed the doors behind him and watched her chassis shake in fear. She was trying to turn to look at him but he came to her. He sat against a wall by her side, where her turret was facing and calmed down. “Hey, calm down. I won’t hurt you. Just relax now that we are no longer enemies.” She looked into his eyes, they were calm and his face relaxed, it brought her down, too. They sat in silence with each other, it got real awkward fast. “So, Uh” he cleared his throat, “what’s your name?” She obviously didn’t understand. He thought of a way to ask her and it came easily. He pointed to himself and said his name, “Nikolai, Popov,” he pointed to her, she wasn’t entirely sure what Popov was so he started listing off known names. “Ioseph Stalin, Adolf Hitler, Winston Churchill, Ludwig Von Beethoven?”
“Hannah.” She replied confidently. He raised his eyebrows and leaned in for her to continue, she just repeated her name, Hannah.
“Hannah?” He asked for clarity.
“Ja!”
“Hannah, Hannah Hitler?” He tried implying her last name. She scowled.
“Nein, Hannah.” Nikola gave up and accepted her only name as Hannah.
“Alright, Hannah.” She smiled, her mouth led from the middle of the gap between the mantle and turret ring to the corners of the mantle bottom. Her eyes were gleaming with hope and made Nikolai feel pleasant. He loved staring into her eyes. Nonetheless, the fact that she was always having to look over her elevated gun gave the impression she was annoyed and couldn’t help but feel like she must be miserable. He looked up to the chain on her gun and decided he’d take that off of her. It’s not like her gun can do anything anymore.
He got up from the ground and when he did his blouse raised up to show his leather belt and on it were the keys to the cuffs. Hannah noticed them. Her face turned into a beggar’s innocent plea-face while she stared at the spot she saw the keys on him. She followed his hip to her side and up as much as she could before he was behind her turret and fumbling with the chain. The conscripts had gotten it on good, it budged but only slightly. He stopped to catch his breath and decided to work smarter, not harder. He pulled the crowbar off her toolset and levied himself onto it under the chain. He bounced on it, wrenching the chain off where it shot up and flew into her gun barrel. Instantly he heard the sigh of relief as her gun depressed and the chain gradually slid off. He smiled with a sense of victory as he tossed the bar to the ground, following it with a grunting hop. He landed and the noise that they both heard over everything else was the jangle of the keys. He knew what she wanted. He rested a hand on the keys and played with them through his blouse while he contemplated the thought. Hannah was pleading with him to remove the locks, but he didn’t understand her pleas. What he did understand was the desperation in her voice, she was almost crying. He stood there for near ten minutes before shakily he moved to her hood. He steadied himself to give her the impression he was in control as he unhooked the bundle and found the key. He was trying not to but was sweating anyway as he glanced up at her face. She was looking at him, her mouth smiling and lips parted, showing him the back of her mouth, her eyes and, and eyebrows(?) were raised with hope. She just looked greatly amused. He looked back to her wrists, metal pins were welded just behind the cuffs so they could not slide off her wrists, his own forearms ached in the empathetic pain he wondered of.  Jerking his attention back to her face he quickly sunk the key into the metal lock and turned it about, freeing her tremors and releasing a portion of her pain. The cuffs almost flew off as her hands and arms shot past either side of him. Instantly his heart raced and he readied himself for a fight. He turned to her and she was ecstatic, her eyes clenched shut and her mouth opens wide as she giggled with joy. He spun back around to her hands and saw them outstretched and quivering as she stretched them out. Slowly they swept back astern, gaining in speed as she moaned with pleasure.
“Oh ja! Oh danke! Das fühlt sich so gut an!” He relaxed and stood tall again, smiling to himself. Her eyes shot open and her arms farted to her sides, he heard a racket coming from her sides as her face looked at him pleadingly again. “Bitte, Herr, bitte entfernen Sie die anderen Schlösser! Bitte?” Nikolai eased over to her left side and traced her arm to more locks on her body. She had more arms pinned to her sides by bracket locks welded to her side. Her arms themselves were forced between her treads and her hull and evidenced that they did not fit comfortably there at all. He undid those as well, growing more and more hesitant as she grew more and more joyous. Once the locks were all off and strung out amongst the ground and her stretching was over, she turned to him, giving off an elated mood, and vigorously grabbed his hand and shook it. She thanked him in German and with a little bit of Russian she had learned herself.
“Woah, you’re welcome! You speak Russian?” She blinked confused by him but still overjoyed with her massive smile. “Guess not.” He went to the door but tripped over a lock. “Gah! Panzer!” She looked at him concerned, “Pick this place up! Put the locks away!” He pointed to the locks and chains and brackets and then to her. She seemed to understand and picked up the locks as he left to go inside the house.
Nikolai had three weeks of relaxation while his battalion was moved to the rear and placed back into a reserve status, so in the meantime, he talked to Hannah a lot every day trying to form some sort of language bridge between them. He treated her like a new dog, giving her thumbs up if his command was received well and thumbs down if it was not. Hannah had picked up the locks, and that’s how he started off training was with a thumbs up, and putting the term ‘clean up’ to it. Hannah learned quickly like all machines do, and while she needed this communication education and enjoyed doing something for once, she felt insulted by Nikolai’s treatment of her like a dog. She knew how he was treating her, she’s seen pet dogs. She was taught follow, stay, no, eat this, go to sleep, normal stuff a dog’s trained to obey. Even though she was being insulted all day, every day with this she still showed respect to him. She did notice that when she didn’t do something correctly he was enraged and almost always yelled angrily at her with a red flushed face, but when she did things correctly he smiled and nodded, of course with the thumbs up. She was beginning to think that it might just be an exaggeration on his half to emphasize his control and that her actions were not acceptable. Although she thought otherwise, as well. Once there was a basic understanding of those commands he moved to the language half of it. He thought about words, phrases, and objects he’d command her to interact with and explained them to her.
“Door.” He said, wrapping on the little side door that faced the house. “Door.” He walked over to the main pair of doors that she entered yesterday. “Door!” He wrapped on it as well. She tried pronouncing it but incorrectly, he repeated the word slowly, annunciating until she was correct. He repeated this procedure referencing multiple examples for clarity, like wall, floor, roof, lock, doorknob, key, to lock, to unlock, barn, and a few tools. Once she had learned that, which was much easier to teach than the commands, he rested for the day and continued the next with more intricate commands. He taught her farming tasks, being that his farm was dead he needed to restart it, but he alone couldn’t possibly do it before the season was over so he instructed Hannah how to do it. She was bigger, heavier, and stronger than him after all and had much more power behind her, even still she withheld that so she didn’t break his tools. It took her most of the morning just to learn two tasks, and the whole afternoon to perform them. He didn’t have an awful lot of farmland, it was very precious to her not to break the tools. Even still she cleared the weeds and churned up the soil. Nikolai promised her that evening if she did well and did it quick enough he’d wash her, she had to think about it, though. It’d been a very long time since she’s been bathed but she didn’t know Nikolai, really didn’t even trust him. Ironic, she could kill him without a second thought and he can’t do anything about it but she feared him because of trust and isolation.
One stormy night Nikolai shot out of his bed randomly, he was swamped with anxiety and nervousness. As he looked around his parent’s old room for comfort he heard a metal ruckus coming from the other end of the house. It was loud enough to be heard over the downpour on the tin roof and that greatly concerned Nikolai. He jumped up and threw on his boots and an overcoat, grabbed his rifle and a lamp and proceeded to investigate. He proceeded out the door and left down the hall, passing by the other bedrooms and into the mainstay, he looked into the dining room but saw nothing abnormal. He went right into the kitchen, and as the noise grew louder it sounded like muffled cries and whimpers from the barn. He fetched a hat to shield him from the rain and exited through the kitchen door out to the barn. His boots sank to the mid-heel in the mud, a good sign for the field but not for his glossy boots he shined for days on end. Nonetheless, he pressed on, trying to keep the sucking and icky sound down as he came closer to the barn. The muffled groans drug on and restarted abruptly and at random while the metallic clang coming from the inside sounded like the far-off machine gun fire of the Dushkas.
Kak-kak-kak-kak-ka!
He fumbled with the lock and flung the door open, holding up the rifle and the lamp under the barrel. He searched around with the flickering and dim light but saw nothing but Hannah in shock and staring at him from the corners of her eyes. He took a deep sigh of relief and lowered the rifle. Her bright green eyes nearly shone in the orange light, as he looked into them he could see the glassy reflection of the lamp’s oval glow. Behind that, he saw his shadow in the doorway. Her eyes were fixed on his and did not waiver, she didn’t speak or make a noise, that clatter had ceased as well. He took another deep breath and looked at her darker grey mantle and faceplate, akin to the light he presumed.
“You alright? What’s wrong? That was a lot of noise.” She understood ‘what’s wrong’ and ‘noise’ but not much else. She stammered out shyly and almost to herself a reply.
“Cold.” He sighed and looked down, watching the rainwater drip from his brim to the hard packed dusty dirt floor of the barn.
“Alright, I’ll be back.” She didn’t move or changed her startled gaze. He went back inside, put away the gun and collected the bed covers from the other rooms. Balling them up he charged outside and ducked into the barn, dumping the blanket ball into her arms. “There you go, it’s all I can do right now.”
“Thank you, sir.” He stepped back as she took the ball and noticed that her hands are much brighter than her body, even in the poor light. He was tired and wanted to go back to sleep so he wished her goodnight and went back out, he stopped at the door before he closed it because he noticed that a cabinet was open. Huh. He went back into his house and left his muddy and wrecked boots at the doorstep. He’d have to polish them tomorrow, or she could. He thought he’d get her to do it as he laid down in his warm bed, hoping the rain didn’t soil his other bedsheets. Why was her hand so shiny?
He woke in the morning and noticed it had stopped raining. He dressed and collected his boots, wiped them off, and noticed that they had no good polish on them anymore. He fished the little polish rag he kept in the heel out and took them to Hannah. She was still sound asleep and covered from barrel to tailpipe in his blankets. He announced her name and woke her up. Issued her a good morning, and presented his drab boots to her with the cloth. “Hannah I want you to polish these, I’ll be back with my kit.” He handed her the boots and walked back inside, fetched his wax and a cup of water, and returned to her. She had already begun using the cloth provided to polish what was there with little circles using her two middle fingers. She was circling quite quickly and that alone was bugging them out nicely. Nikolai was impressed and simply left the kit on her mudguard for her to do her thing. “Uh, good! Very good! Polish them nicely and I’ll wash you clean today!” She nodded and replied ‘yes, sir,’ and carried on. He moseyed back inside the house and prepared his breakfast. Wow, she was really good with those circles.
Later on that morning, an officer friend visited the home. Nikolai hadn’t seen him since the end of Stalingrad and was very happy to see his old friend still alive. He welcomed him inside and offered him some drink, and as Nikolai opened his newest bottle of vodka his friend began the conversation.
“So I know you like the military and all but me? Not so much. I got out when they offered and now I’ve opened and registered a store of my own.”
“Where? Just down the road?”
“Oh no, it is in the next town down the railway, I was just hoping that maybe I could hire you to help Work there?”
“Oh no I’m sorry, I’m staying in for another term. Luckily my battalion is a reserves unit so I won’t have to do that much anymore.”
“I heard you were promoted?”
“You heard correctly.”
“Congratulations!”
“Yes,” he took a swig of his vodka, thinking about Toltav, “yes thank you.” He zoned out just staring at the white countertop under the light bulb. “Hey, would you care to sit down?”
“Yes, thank you.” They took their seats in the main space on a decorative couch. It had a light green base color on the cushions with brown-bordered white stripes running vertically, it had a maple wood finish frame cleanly polished with no blemishes on it. It was one of his mother’s most expensive chairs, their prized possession. They drank from their glasses and relived some war stories that helped them catch up.
Hannah heard the horse-drawn buggy clammer to a stop in the front yard, she heard the excited greeting and tried to figure out what they were saying but didn’t understand much. So when the door closed and the voices were no more she went back to polishing the boots. She had barely used the water and had finished the right boot nicely with a shine that not only acted as good as a mirror but almost glowed. She could see the streaks in her paint in the boot that’s how good it was. She declared the right boot to be finished for now and started buffing the second boot. She hadn’t even touched the wax yet but noticed a gash in this boot that the layers of wax already on it could not fill so she had to fill it with new wax. While using her favorite fingers to dig at the wax she remembered back to last night, and when she began applying the wax and buffing the boot she thought more about it. Polishing is a mundane task that lets you relax and think, not much else to do, honestly, so that’s what she did. She remembered the shock and what a jolt it was when that door crashed open. She swore that not even antitank guns made her that skittish. Of course, she was embarrassed, she did wake him up after all, and she hoped he wouldn’t notice the smudges on the blankets, and if he did, excuse them because of how dirty she was. She wondered what he did, what he thought of it if he knew. She glanced at the cabinet and paused, but continued on. She wondered who he was talking to. Sure enough, she refocused on his boots and noticed that she had replicated the same polish as before. She carefully set the boots on the bench and put the water next to the kit bag with the wax jar sealed and the cloth folded neatly in the bag. She figured that task to be complete and moved on to the next task of tilling the field for seeding.
Nikolai was listening to what the store would sell when his friend abruptly stopped and shot up. “What the shit?” He rushed to the window peering through the oncoming sunlight. “What the fuck!? Nikolai!” Nikolai stood up. “Nikolai there’s a Fucking Panzer in your yard!”
“Oh! Oh don’t worry about it.” He walked to the window. His friend was aghast and turned to him sharply.
“What!? WHAT!?”
“Calm down, it’s my Panzer, she’s very special.”
“She!?”
“Yes, special. What else do you call a living tank?”
“LIVING!?” He looked in disbelief as the tank spurted arms and used a hoe to churn soil paths neatly. “Bullshit.”
“Oh no, she’s real and alive. Her name’s Hannah. We can meet if you want.”
“What sort of magic is this!?”
“Ooooo,” Nikolai scratched the back of his head, “I can’t tell you. Nazi magic?”
“The Nazis were not animating tanks! No! No, no!” He was sweating profusely, he spun around to Nikolai and grabbed him by the shirt. “WHAT WAS IN THE DRINK!? WHAT IS IT!? WHY?” Nikolai was completely shocked.
“Nothing! It’s just vodka! I drank the same as you!”
“WHAT DRUG IS THIS!?”
“Alcohol! Nothing else I swear it upon my mother’s life!” Nikolai was thrown to the floor. He watched as his friend dug into his pants and produced a snub nose revolver and made haste out the back door. Nikolai chased after him. “HEY!” Hannah was startled by this.
“Goddammit!” She jumped off the ground she was so startled. She turned to see what was wrong when the man shot his whole cylinder into her armor. Instinctively she shunned her face away and threw up a hand to cover her eye while each of the six bullets bounced harmlessly off her armored body. The man pressed on loading more rounds into the pistol and as soon as he raised it to fire again Hannah’s arm shot out at him. Nikolai was about to scream when she wrapped the hand around the gun and crushed the tiny thing in her hand like it was an empty pack of cigarettes. “NEIN!” She boomed, ripping the gun out of his hand and throwing it to the ground. For the first time, Nikolai felt like his life was about to meet a messy end. He stumbled back and fell, as did his friend, Hannah reversed to him and grabbed his arms. “No! Stop! Go there chair sit!” She still had to learn some more grammar but the message got through. The man staggered back up and scurried over to a porch chair to breathe and realize he isn’t dead. Nikolai slumped in the mushy dirt and relieved his worries, Hannah came over to check on him. “Ok sir? Alright you?” She cradled him up out of the mud and picked crap out of his clothes.
“Yes Hannah, I’m fine,” He wriggled his way to his feet and told her to get back to work, “it should be alright now.” She got back to her duties, checking herself for any wounds. Only chipped paint.
The two men sat on the porch in silence. It was broken when Nikolai told him that she likes her Vodka straight. After that, he explains to him how he got her, what she does around here, and why he got her to begin with. His friend seems to warm up to the idea, or at least accept it, and heads home to, well to not be there staring at an abomination. Later after Hannah had finished filling the soil she asks what seeds Nikolai wants where. He takes her to the barn and starts rummaging through the cabinets. Hannah grows cold again and nervously peeks over to the one cabinet, wondering if it was all cleaned up. Nikolai gets closer and closer to it and Hannah got even more anxious, Nikolai had his back to her but could feel the tension she was creating. He got to the cabinet and opened the door, saw a lock, and immediately closed it again. “No, not in there.” He moved on and Hannah almost sighed aloud with relief. He found the bags of seeds, dried out but still good, and told her to take these existing signs, and instructed her what sign for what seed, and where it goes. She merrily bundled the seed bags with the signs poking out in an arrangement that he wanted, transferred that to her hood, and went off to seed the field. She rolled out and left Nikolai in the barn. He figured he should probably bathe her like he promised, and set everything up while she was out. He noticed that the bedsheets were dirty, but he blamed himself for it, growing angry at how stupid he was. Of course, they’d get dirty! She hasn’t been cleaned in months! Fucking idiot! He figured she’d clean them off while he washed her. She could do that as easily as he could wash a shirt he presumed.
That’s essentially what happened. Hannah came back and rejoiced when she saw all the soap and water with sponges and rags. She didn’t even care that she had to wash all the blankets, she was getting a bath! Specifically, someone else was bathing her! While he was busy scrubbing her side she was soaking and kneading one thick blanket in the tub of water and pulled it out to check. She saw a massive running streak of silver goo and she hurriedly shoved it back into the tub nervously humming as her cheeks flushed darker in tone. She nervously giggled and glanced over to Nikolai, he didn’t notice. He was growing very angry at the mud that had gotten stuck in her road wheels and was about to burst into a fit when Hannah produced a specially made brush just for it, she demonstrated how it worked and handed it over to him while she made sure to wash those peculiar stains out. It took some scrubbing on both parts but sure enough, they worked through it and their tasks came out nice and clean. Hannah thoroughly enjoyed being cleaned, she especially took pleasure in her ass getting astern rubbing, on the under portion of it much dirt had caked on and took some old-fashioned elbow grease to come off. It was therapeutic to her, like a relaxing bath with warm soothing water and skin replenishing moisturize (I think that’s how it works) but literally lifting off the filth from her body. Nikolai got some pleasure out of it, too. There was clear evidence that his work was paying off, instant gratification, and it instilled some pride in him. He didn’t want his trophy to look like mud, he wanted it to shine and gleam to anyone that saw it. He also understood that he had to keep her happy and entertained, lest she decides to do her own thing and release her anger on him.
He finished cleaning her body off, making sure she was clean top to bottom, but he did not clean her belly, he left her to clean it herself after she finished the sheets. He did inspect the sheets she had hung up to dry and smiled at them, fond memories of his childhood flooding his mind. Mindlessly he told Hannah the history behind these quilts, how his mothers had made them for generations, each unique to her and her family. Some had figured meant to be the current family, others about their lost members, others were pretty designs or a scenic view. He said that it’d take them roughly five to ten years to make them, all hand knitted on the downtime. He said his mother’s quilt was on his bed at the moment. He didn’t realize it but Hannah was picking up on a lot that he was saying. After Nikolai’s stories ended he left her to her business and made supper. He only had a few more days before he had to report back for duty, and so the next morning he began full on language courses with her. The basics language that he had taught were much harder than these lessons, she picked them up with ease and the more lessons they got through the faster she learned. She was learning exponentially faster and the day before Nikolai had to leave he was able to hold a legitimate conversation with her about the tasks he wanted her to do. If she didn’t know how to do something he could simply explain it to her and she’d repeat it back in a paraphrased version, displaying both her comprehension of Russian and what the task was. Nikolai was very confident with her and very boastful of her.
The plants grew well and the yard stayed tended, she acted as a groundskeeper and a property guard, shooing off hungry animals and mischievous teenagers. She would indulge herself in her alone time and savored the moments she deemed special and tried out new things to keep her busy and entertained. She did grow worried over the plants, Nikolai never taught her how to harvest them or store them, he said he’d be back in time to show her that and was very worried when the plump plants turned different colors. He did, in fact, return very soon. He was angry with how the plants had ripened early and she didn’t harvest them, she pleaded she didn’t know what he wanted and so he showed her. He showed her how to cut the fruit and vegetables off and where and how to store them. He was pleased in all other respects, the lawn was nice, there were no weeds, everything was flourishing, perfect! His only annoyance that he had to tolerate were some tracks she left from tending to the property, it was patches of dead spots in high traffic areas, he got over it. He cleaned her again, relaxed for two days, and returned to duty again.
The year passed by without any real issues. There weren’t any remarkable events aside from the holidays and the special events like celebrations, parades, or government hosted promotions. Nikolai found himself as the leading officer for training programs. He was in charge of all special training done in his battalion including firearms drills, doctrine drills, government party training events that he and the Commissars would organize, and any new field training programs that came down the pipeline. It wasn’t that bad. Nikolai in the latter end of the year began looking for a wife, he met one girl who seemed nice, but by the end of the year it didn’t work out. The dawn of the new year brought with it another girl, they lasted longer but again it didn’t work. But while his love life was going all around he continued teaching Hannah language and such, and she had become quite a master of it. She had learned Russian fluent enough to understand various dialects and accents of Russian. She had also become very masterful of her farming jobs and had learned how to best water and nurture the crops. This is something that took Nikolai years of teaching from his parents who had mastered it, the speed from which she learned it was very impressive. It struck fear into him, she was learning faster than any human he ever knew, he stayed up at night wondering how long it’d be before she began thinking for herself. While on duty one week he explored options and tools he could employ to keep him empowered and punish her if she fell out of line. As loyal and cooperative as she was he had to somehow set an example and show her that he was in charge. The leverage he was looking for came to him accidentally while cleaning, he slipped and the bar in his hand jarred its way into the mount for her wheel. She hollered instantly in pain and reeled back, he quickly removed the bar but threatened that he’d do it again should she misbehave. She understood and combed her mind to figure out what she did wrong.
Hannah had become more comfortable with her new life and would stretch out in front of the barn for any passer-by-ers to see her. It wasn’t anything suggestive, she just sat out there resting and looking around. She would be bored and so she’d people watch, she was especially fond of one boy who ran around the road with a knapsack of sand, a stick, and a can he’d hit around. She never understood the sand. One person that she was very attentive to was Nikolai. She’d learn a lot about him. She also learned that his girlfriends only lasted at most five months with the average being just shy of four months. The time between girls lasted from two days to two months. But every time he’d get a new girl he’d show off Hannah to them, Hannah quickly realized what she was, a trophy. She never got why Nikolai took her until he started dating. He’d flaunt Hannah around like some great prize for his heroism and bravery. Hannah was nothing more to him than a working prize. At first, Hannah felt kinda nice that he revered her as a prize, then as time went on she realized he did revere her as a prize. Just that. This made those introductions torturous, Hannah felt like shit, like a thing. Her German peers treated her like a Comrade, they fought for her and she fought for them, but Nikolai sees her like a fancy knife, a great display with some use in it. Hannah was sick of it. She saw the only way to make it stop is if she made the new girl be the last one. No more new girls means no more showing off, right? Yes. So Hannah, being a woman herself, decided to take those quirks that bug her about Nikolai and fix them so other girls don’t have them, and they’ll stay with him for good. She decided to act as soon as possible. And knowing Nikolai she didn’t wait long. About four hours, actually.
“I’m done, Nikolai!” His latest girlfriend said storming out of the house. “You jerk! You can’t be swayed! You stubborn ass!”
“HEY!” Nikolai chased after her, grabbing at her arm, the girl, Stella, maybe, shook him off and punched him in the jaw.
“Stay away from me! I’ve had it! You need to let go and relax! You know what? No. Nikolai, we’re through. Stay in the Army with that stick up your ass! It’s where you belong!”
“ALLA!” Woah, way off. “ALLA WAIT!” She was gone. While Nikolai got up and checked his lip for blood Hannah laughed a little bit. He spun around to her. “Something funny, Panzer?”
“Ja! You never learn, sir! It all ends the same way!”
“Oh does it?” His face was reddening with anger.
“You haven’t noticed? Everything’s nice until you move them in! Then, and then, ooh” she paused to laugh, “and then it’s like a bomb! BOOM! It blows up!” Nikolai’s face was almost as red as his bleeding lip. “I think you need some help, conditioning. I can help!”
“Help?” He sucked blood off his lip and spit out a red wad towards her. “I don’t need your help!” He stormed inside and slammed the door so hard the doorframe shifted. Hannah laughed a little longer and composed herself. She really hoped he’d take her help. When Nikolai thought about what she said he realized that maybe she was right, he asked her for help the next morning.
She said that they’ll take things one step at a time, first, they would work on his over-bearing nature. She would constantly remind him to relax as she acted like she would be doing something of her own, she would make suggestions, voice random opinions, and try to train him. After a while it was working, he wouldn’t snap back with an objection nor would he interrupt her, as he previously would. This eventually would help him out in his career as well, and improved his effectiveness with training, taking in other suggestions that bettered the system. Even though he would be verbally lenient his posture and actions would act as a hindrance or would be dissuasive of her following through. She would call him out on this and nag him until he broke it off. Many times he grew frustrated with her and would challenge her in some way, and she would sit there and repeat “I’d leave,” again and again. Eventually, his challenging dwindled off. As a test, she would try to say something he wouldn’t like, and shouldn’t like, and he would argue against it and hold his ground. She encouraged him to keep his character, and not to bend too much for someone. Her goal was to make him more compatible and compassionate, not spineless and without character.
Eventually, when Nikolai found another girl to date it worked out a lot better, he had learned to trust her and was somewhat tight with her but wasn’t overburdening. Instead, as his girlfriend would put it he was really attentive, very concerned with her. It was in his nature to have plans for everything and to know what’s happening at all time, Hannah thought nothing of this, to her it was just who he was, his core character. She encouraged that and supported him. But the more that Nikolai thought about it, the more divided he was from them. One morning Nikolai was reading a book outside the barn, basking in the sun enjoying the springtime air. Hannah was cleaning her tools and randomly decided to test Nikolai, keep him sharp.
“Nikolai, I’m going out for a while.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to miss old lady’s for groceries.” Her example made him chuckle a little bit.
“Alright, oh and speaking of that remind me that we need some more meats from the store.”
“Thank you.” As she passed by him she uncontrollably and subconsciously kissed the back of his head. Instantly she blushed and realized what might happen she rushed back into the barn to tinker with her tools innocently as if nothing happened.
“Hannah,” Nikolai got up out of his chair, she heard his footsteps move towards her. She was almost shaking and fearing with what was going to happen, “that’s not a kiss.” His head appeared under her gun and his lips met hers, encouraging a real and proper kiss between them. She was knocked off her feet figuratively, she was not expecting that but was way too happy to oblige it, and kiss him back. Her arms wrapped around him and held him close, and turned her turret to meet him more effectively. They held the kiss for a long time, but it didn’t feel like it was long enough. When they drew away from their kiss they shared a massive smile. Later that night Nikolai had decided on this relationship, he wished his former girlfriend the best of luck, offered a long lasting friendship, and broke up their intimate relationship, and then when she had left he offered an intimate relationship to Hannah instead. She eagerly accepted. All that help that Hannah was giving Nikolai, they realized, was what Hannah valued and wanted, and Nikolai was happy to oblige to her wants.
Relationship wise this was the most stable and rewarding one Nikolai ever had, every morning they were eager to see each other, and every night they were heartbroken to separate for bedtime. Already holding a common ground, a pretense to this intimate relationship, having lived with each other for at least two years with fairly little conflict, they challenged each other and built each other, and were eager to grow each other, and so when things got sexual it wasn’t too long after engaging in the intimate relationship. They had been teasing each other all day about it, and when the sun had set and the candles had been lit they finally let their lust free. Their play and seduction ceased just before they stripped Nikolai naked. “Wh-Why?”
“Nikolai, could..,” she was blushing harder than she was a minute ago, “could you chain me up?” Nikolai thought about it, he wasn’t too sure about the request, he wasn’t sure how he was feeling about it but he did as she asked.
He opened the locker that had all that old gear from her capture, just laying eyes on it again spiked her adrenaline, her heart raced and her loins started burning. Those chains clanging, the cuffs clacking, the tools clicking, the sounds drove her mad. Every touch, the cold restraints on her wrists, the braces on her hull pinning her arms, the taught pull and strain on her gun, it all fueled her lust. His touch and play, his poking, finger dragging, licking her body with his heavy hot tongue, it made her very wet, so incredibly horny. To top it off she couldn’t reach him, she couldn’t touch him, he was right there, so close, but so far, she couldn’t do anything but moan and whimper in agony, the agony of no control. Her drive skyrocketed as the tension and teasing continued, she teared up in joy and pain, a wonderful mix of emotions that just drove her desire to get wrecked, to be fucked to pieces. She wanted him so fucking badly, so painfully she craved him but couldn’t have him yet. “OH DADDY JUST FUCK ME!”
For Nikolai, the return he got from her fueled his acceptance for this, with every arm locked down her enjoyment rose, and he knew that from her whimpering and moaning, the look in her amazing eyes told him how much she wanted him. With every addition to the restraints that look grew, the flame burned brighter, and his old controlling self came back with a lustful vengeance. Her pleas only encouraged his controlling self, it hastened his efforts, and he tightened the grips and holds on her, and made rounds after rounds on her, poking her, touching her, licking her, grinding on her, all just so he could hear her moans, her whimpers, her pleas, and her engine sputter like a sad car. He was so hard, so fucking hard. He wanted to absolutely destroy her, he wanted to rip her in half, knock her out, he wanted to fuck her until she couldn’t fucking stand. But her pleas, no, no, no, this would not do. He disappeared to her anger to fetch some materials from the house. When he came back her barked orders at her. “OPEN that useless mouth you FUCKING SLUT!” She did as commanded, and he stuffed a wooden log into her trap and tied a thick rope around her turret to keep it in place. While fitting it he stared into her eyes and the lust he saw was rising, it was burning into him, it made their sex drives almost uncontrollable. “Yeah, yeah you fucking like that, don’t you, WHORE?”
Her only ability to reply was a muffled moan and a sputter from her engine. Her body rocked back and forth, bucking up and down, her innards were churning with this denial of sexual pleasure, she felt like she was about to knock him over and grind her cunt all over his fucking body, later this, too would be addressed by Nikolai.
“You’ve been bad, bitch, you’ve been real fucking bad, bitch.” He began undoing his belt in front of her. “I don’t think you know just what we do to punish bitches like you.” Her eyes shot open as the belt tail dropped to the dirt. He slowly walked to her ass end with the belt in hand. “Let me teach you what we do to dirty, rotten, useless whores like YOU!” He whipped the belt over and hit her on the ass with it with a loud crack! Her muffled mouth cried out in pain and pleasure, and her ass wiggled around to ask for more. He whipped her ass again, and again, each time drawing a muffled cry from Hannah and exciting them even more.
Hannah’s bow dropped to the dirt and she sat there ass-up and backed up to him slowly, begging him just to fuck her sideways already, to fuck up her whole life. Of course, that was all muffled so he didn’t her plea, just her cry. He walked back around to her front again.
“No, no I don’t think that was enough for a whore as dirty as you!” He unbuttoned his pants and tore off his shirt. Her eyes rapidly scanned his body as it stripped down naked in front of her, he was only feet away but she still couldn’t have him. She visibly shook as his pants dropped to reveal his meat before her. Her breathing was very heavy and labored, and her engine was humming loudly and enthusiastically. He marched to her and stepped up on her hood, knelt down and waved his huge, throbbing, hard cock right in front of her mouth. “Kiss it, SLUT!” She painfully tried to obey but the log was in the way, her tongue tried to force its way between the log and her teeth, but the harder she tried the more he laughed. She was crying at this point, he drug his finger through the tears and licked them off. “Mmmmm, tastes great!” He shoved his cock against the tongue pillowing out of the gaps and rubbed it all over her tongue. “How’s that taste? You fucking slut! I bet you eat dick every day, don’t you? So how do I taste? It better be fucking good.” She moaned and agreed, his cock was wonderous on her tongue, she wanted to rip the log out of her mouth and suck his nuts out of his dick like it was a straw! Her eyes rolled around in wonder, she wanted so much to happen to her, she really was a bad, dirty, rotten slut! He rubbed his cock all over her tongue, it felt so pillowy and amazing, the texture was overwhelming, and in a matter of seconds he was hit was a strong-ass orgasm that shook him. He came and shot his load all over her mouth, on the log, the lips, the teeth, the tongue. everywhere. It was a lot too, it looked like someone had emptied half a jar of mayo onto her face. She moaned and wailed.
Now it was time to fuck.
He silently recovered and stumbled back to her ass, dragging his hand on her side the whole way. She was eagerly waiting for it to happen, and she took excellent note of him as he got down and scooched his way under her, sucking on her armored ass for a moment. He laid there and admired her beautiful pussy lips, they looked so tasty, so plump, and so soft! He reached to them and spread them open, and peered into her depths with amazement. He smiled wide and was so happy to have a woman to himself, one so enthusiastic, too. Her depths looked like soft grey doughnuts stacked on top of each other, narrowing ever so seductively, and at the top was a tight little hole clenched shut. He knew what that was, they talked about it already, but in his lust he wanted to pierce it, to fill her up to her eyeballs with his cum. He ordered it to be brought to him, she hesitated but did it, and was not let down. He first rimmed it with a finger, then his tongue, and sucked on it like a nipple, gnawing on it tenderly and massaging it with his lips and tongue, then he sent that away and did the same to her whole vulva, she was eaten raw until she was tender and ripe. Her juices flowed like wine, but only better, and drove his desire to bury his cock in her for so deep not even archaeologists would be able to dig it out. He moved and played Ring-around-the-rosie using his cock on her vulva, and knew that the promises were going to be kept. He was going to spank and pound her clit with his nuts, he was going to punch pistons with his dick, he was going to break her suspension with his hips, and she was going to gush her juicy cum out like a goddamn waterfall. Without warning or indication, he shot his cock balls-deep into her pussy.
Instantly she felt every millimeter of him. She locked up and just took it, all the bucking and kicking and heeling she had done up to this moment ceased, and she held onto everything she could. Her torsion bars locked up and her whoring pussy clasped onto every thrust like her life depended on it. Her eyes rolled back into her turret and her mouth uncontrollably drooled as much as her pussy was. She could feel the effects of his manhood everywhere, every thrust cycled a piston in her engine, and every thrust smacked her clit-button hard with his nuts, and every thrust tested the composition of her suspension. In a way, he was living up to all his promises, maybe not literally but effectively it was certainly doing the job. She knew at that moment she had the perfect man for her, and he really knew just how to ‘rub her right’ and as the two of them fucked they enjoyed the moment. They enjoyed each other and let all their frustrations and lust out with this. And it ended up with a fuck session that lasted, from chaining her up to the final climax, almost three and a half hours. But in that time of them being balls deep, it was nothing but plushy hot, slick, wet, messy, dirty, nasty, rough sex. His massive cock pushed her pussy in and embedded itself onto its local memory so that whenever they fucked again her very vagina knew who was fucking it. They felt each other so sensually and sexually that they knew how close the other was to cumming, and Hannah won the record for cumming the most, she was played with the most. But ass his body grew tired and his ballsack was drying up he slowed to an eventual stop and rested there under her still buried in her magical and mystical pussy. He was covered in her juice and there wasn’t anywhere in her pussy that wasn’t the uterus or cervix that was not touched by his cock or not covered in his semen. The mess they made was a mix of both of their fluids, and neither had the energy to clean it, although by this time Hannah wanted to lick him clean, and he still wanted to drink the Nectar of the Gods, aka, her pussy juice.
They did cool off and Nikolai sheepishly climbed out and took out the log, and removed the cuffs. Instantly she wrapped around him and they made out until they fell asleep spooning each other. They slept like rocks, exhausted and unwilling to move away. In the morning when they woke up they found themselves in a sticky gross entanglement of each other. They cracked a few jokes about the situation and last night, and Nikolai undid some more restraints before getting himself cleaned up. He then filled up a tub to clean her off, too, making some dull remarks about how he’s already cleaning her again. She retorted she’ll make it worth it but he then complained about having to do it again, laughing it off. They had given in to their lusts and found themselves in a healthy and happy relationship where they never expected it. They made some decisions about how they wanted to explore their sexual pleasures, and about how they wanted to raise their family.
Fin Hannah and Nikolai

Filed under Gingyflame, Stories · Tagged with , ,

Hansel and Marion Ch 55

Big post! Big post! To sum it up this chapter roughly covers the point from the last chapter all the way up to the 90’s. Now it’s not everything, but it sums up some key points. Now this isn’t the end of HaM in general, but this is the end of this era, so to say. They now move into the new age, the one we are in, and have to deal with a new generation and new challenges. Things should start coming into stronger effect and other goodies await.

Enjoy!

 

Hansel and Marion Ch 55
Hansel and Marion waited about a year before they tried for another baby. In this time they did some more thorough planning based off of what happened with Marion’s pregnancy with Hannah, and they adjusted their lives to live with their newest addition to the family. In the time they planned and prepared they also took on house renovations, new technology was coming out and so Hansel and Marion worked on the side to incorporate these new inventions into their house. First was a new oven, it had a sort of grill on the top of it so it could cook soups and meats on the top while it baked bread, cookies, or whole chickens! Marion was very appreciative of Hansel’s gift but she didn’t use it very much until she noticed how much Hannah liked the cake she’d make. Hannah grew rapidly, in just that year they watched Hannah grow half her size bigger, and once eat a whole plane’s wing from the junk pile in one sitting. Hannah’s intelligence blew their minds, too, she was speaking basic words, both German and English, in a month, and she knew phrases in another month. Hansel would brag and boast about his new baby whenever he could, to Whacker, to his parents, to his sister, to the other tanks, anyone he could without breaking the secrecy of their existence. They loved Hannah so much, and whenever they could they showed her off. When Cindy saw Hannah she instantly took her as her sister, she tried to pick up her sister but after Hannah was picked up off of her wheels Cindy’s eyes widened and her turret face flushed with exertion.
When Hansel and Marion did engage and commit to their second child it was much smoother than making Hannah. Marion’s sexual urges and needs were dealt with better and yet Hansel only committed a little more seed than he did with Hannah. He was still extremely paranoid about hurting the baby, but was more accepting with sexually pleasing Marion. The time came a lot faster than it did with Hannah, which drug on for seemingly forever with her pregnancy, and when the time was approaching they were ready. All the steps had been made and all the questions had been answered by Hannah’s coming. Their second child’s birth, a son and still a tank like his mother and sister, was much smoother and less strenuous as Hannah’s. With this birth Hansel’s parents were here to visit, they had found the time and money to come over and visit America and visit their children and grandchildren. Mrs. Walter helped encourage and keep Marion going while Mr. Walter just stood off to the side completely entranced in wonderment, looking off past everyone. They did help clean the newborn, and wrap him up in cloth to keep him warm. His name was Tyler, and he made them just as happy as Hannah.
Hannah didn’t meet him for a week, and when they did meet, Hannah instantly began picking on her younger brother, poking him in the loader’s periscope discomfortably for which he grabbed her gun and pulled it around angrily. This began the long and predicted sibling rivalry. Other than the usual tease these kids didn’t fight each other. Being so isolated from anything else they formed a tight bond. While they did have many chances to go out and play with the other kids on the bases they loved their vast yard to play in. Sometimes Hansel would take a week off from work to spend time with his family and whenever he did they played “Panzerwaffe” and they would hunt each other, make little forts, and try to beat each other in very competitive fashion during these war games. Most of the time they were pleasant and peaceful, but sometimes as siblings are they would fight or get emotional or get too rough with each other.
As a father, Hansel was supposed to be the discipline figure in the family, he made and enfored the rules and made sure the kids didn’t act up. He would try his hardest but often times whenever Hannah or Tyler did act up they would shrug him off, so he got creative with his punishments, but sometimes it was Marion who had to set them straight. This was another reason Marion wanted a human child, she didn’t like doing that and wished Hansel would do it instead. Even though both parents would be the hard one and the easy one, it didn’t affect how either child was raised well and they were respectable, hard working, with the same values and morals of their parents. Hansel and Marion did well raising them. They were good kids, they really didn’t act out much, Hannah was much easier than Tyler though, but overall they made Hansel and Marion proud, happy, and ever grateful of them. Most of the time Marion would teach her children math, grammar, reading, writing, science, and all of that sort of stuff, but when her limits of knowledge was reaching closer she decided to send them to school with the other kids on base. It was a long travel every day, one that she made with them every day, and this made their maintenance and upkeep rise.
Hansel was responsible for making sure that his family was mechanically sound, he did weekly checks on his wife and kids, checking their engines, liquid levels, and made sure they were oiled up. Whenever they hurt or felt bad he fixed them or did his best to remedy the pain. He made them linen skirts for their hulls so he didn’t have to make like forty sets of side skirts for them, he rigged their drive wheels to their wheels with cables so they could move, and ensured that their wooden tracks fit right. They had gotten track and skirt and tool sets from the base, they kept a stockpile of these things for the living tanks and had some limited equipment to make replacement parts, for when the kids grew to full size. Early on Hansel and Marion tried to get some engine oils into Hannah, but she’d down the oil and an hour later she’d be sitting in a puddle of it. She couldn’t seem to hold it at all. It wasn’t until her engine fully developed after two years when she cried for oil again. They did the same with Tyler.
Hansel and Marion knew that their kids wouldn’t be very socially adept because of how limited their social pool was, so they got their kids into a pen-pal group so they could practice speech, writing, and reading as well. Before their letters were sent Marion would proof read them for any classified material. It wasn’t until the kids were a maturing age when Hansel and Marion not only gave them the Birds and the Bees talk but also explained to them that they were classified. Neither of the parents really talked much about their service, they did explain about the war and what happened, the crimes that Hitler’s regime did, and why America was a good country. They enforced the concept that regardless of race or religion, a person is a person, and that you respect and treat them all equally. Hansel and Marion had seem some impressive feats and knew that no matter the background a human being is a human being. Their kids would ask about some stories from the war and Hansel and Marion would oblige them, but they never actively told stories. Some of the other tanks, however, told stories all the time. The kids loved going over to Frau and Canine’s place (Canine’s body was rebuilt and experiments were performed that reactivated him, to Frau’s everlasting gratitude) for their war stories. the crew were seen as uncles and their wives as aunts, their kids as cousins, and thus all the tanks and such were all interweaved as family, one large family. Whacker and Shellproof visited often, and Adler, through them, also grew close to Hannah and Tyler. Shellproof was very fond of the kids and that made her push and beg Whacker for kids of their own, when that time did come they produced a human baby. Their kid made Marion rub it in Hansel’s face, every time they visited each other Marion asked how they got a human kid, and would grudgingly look at Hansel when she recited Shellproof’s answer, just to spite Hansel. Hansel would always sort of disinterest himself and look off, regretting his over cautious nature.
Times changed, the world Hansel and Marion knew was changing, and their kids were growing eager and anxious, in the late sixties news reports and footage on the new televisions showed American soldiers fighting in Vietnam, and this made Tyler want to go enlist like his father did before him, Hansel was worried about the fighting style he’d be facing. Betty and Banker had to serve in the Army through the Korean War and heard the scary stories of how the Koreans fought in the jungle. Marion was extra worried, she couldn’t sleep through the whole night because of it. When he did turn 18 in 1970, they couldn’t stop him from driving up to the base, and talking to a recruiter to get him in. Hansel and Marion supported and loved him, but they expressed their worries to him. While paperwork was going through and plans were being made for him Hansel had Tyler, Banker, Betty, Fritz, and a few other veterans gather around and talk to him about combat. They didn’t sugar coat anything, they sat down, and told him what to expect, what to do, and what he will see. Tyler stood tall and said he’d be ready, but the hardened veterans couldn’t help but look at him and see themselves, see the hundreds of new recruits, and see the boys that said that but never survived the first day.
The day came, Tyler’s ship out date. Hannah poked him in the periscope one more time before she hugged him, then he embraced his bawling mother as she grabbed him in a vice grip. He assured her he’d do alright, he’d come back, and she begged him to. She begged him to keep his cupola down. Next he went to his father, who hugged him and shook his hand, wishing him luck. Tyler moved over to say his goodbyes to Fritz, who wanted to join up, too, to keep Tyler safe but he wasn’t let in. Next he went over and said his goodbyes to family like Whacker, Shellproof, Adler, Jager, Mini, Kramia, Frau, Canine, Zwei, Betty, Banker, Erika, Inbred, and many, many more. Almost the whole base waved him off. One of the last people to say goodbye was Devestator, he wasn’t too close to Tyler, but when Tyler said his farewells to him he pulled Tyler close and whispered to him. “Whatever you do, do not take advantage of any women over there. Do not do it. It will be the guiltiest decision you ever made.” Tyler wasn’t sure what that meant but agreed to it. Before he left he went back to Hansel, Marion had to leave she was crying so much, and Hansel and him sat there in silence before he finally piped up.
“I’mma make you proud, father.”
“You already have, son. I’m always proud of you.”
With that, he left for refit and boot camp. Marion worried about him and had hundreds, thousands of sleepless nights and nightmares, she was going crazy about her baby boy off in war. She was glued to the radio and television, she’d keep every single letter she got from him on her at all times. She had all these luck charms she had and she prayed for his safety multiple times a day. Hansel was much more confident in his son. His son had thick armor, he was strong, he knew that he’d be fine. Did he ever get restless about his son? Definitely, he thought about his son every day. He just was less stressed about it. Hannah was attending higher education schools in history and engineering, and was helping her parents out by doing some more work around the house and yard.
Tyler’s time at bootcamp was certainly strange, he was in a platoon of four other tanks, all new tanks, they were Patton tanks, all expected to make it through and get into their units in Vietnam. Tyler was not expected to make it. There were plans and measures ready to be made for if he made it, but they weren’t committing to him yet. His Drill Sergeants were all Korean vets, a Sherman tank, Easy-8 model, and two Pershing tanks. They broke the recruits and shaped them into military material. To everyone’s surprise Tyler was one of the best recruits they had. He out shined his peers with his dedication. He wasn’t an exact copy of his mother, as it turned out his armor was generally thinner everywhere, his engine was stronger, and various parts of him were more flesh and less metallic, most notably his hands. His hands just looked like someone dipped a human hand in gunmetal paint. In other areas, like his manhood, he was also more human than say Fritz would be.
He wrote home as often as possible and wished that his parents could make it to his graduation. As soon as he could he made a phone call home, his mother’s voice was the best thing he’s heard in his life. This inability to get around the country made Hansel depressed, he decided to invest in some large equipment to get Marion around on the roads. Once he found some suitable equipment he began saving for it and made it his highest priority. His dreams of Rudolph were coming back, and things were making more sense.
Tyler’s renovations were numerous, first off his gun was removed from his turret and sent home. That was a terrifying morning for his Mother, it’s not a good thing opening a box and seeing your son’s limb stuffed in it. Nonetheless his gun was the newest and best gun on a tank, the British made L7A3 one-hundred-and-five millimeter gun. It was a marvelous gun and one he grew to love the first range day he had. Another renovation was changing the engine, this was a much more complicated task, the transmission layout remained the same so that the strongest engine they had could be fitted into his aft end. It made him sick and uncomfortable for a month but after that his body accepted the new engine he also grew to love the extra umpf it had. Next was armor, his armor while thinner than his mother’s was still on par with the M48 Patton model, but that was still inadequate for the newest rounds flying around. New and experimental reactive armor was put onto his hide to help mitigate the effects of this threat. His tracks were also overhauled and sent home, the tracks were replaced with more modern rubber padded tracks for better traction. He was a little cautious about the tracks but he made them work. Next was an overhaul of his optics, his crew dropped from five to four, as he would be the loader and assist a designated gunner with aiming. To his surprise the hull machine gunner would remain because of the number of infantry that is fought in the jungles. That makes another point that’s changed, his machine gun ports are all rebuilt to carry either the .30 cal or the new 7.62mm M60 “Pig” machine gun. It looked a lot like the MG 42 his mother had on her. The last major modification he underwent was the replacement of his cupola, his old low profile hatch was replaced with the mini MG turret seen on the Pattons. He didn’t like it, it jutted out and made him even taller, not only that but it was an annoyance to keep in line. Of all the changes he went through, that was the one he hated. Other than that it was just some changes in placement of gear, tools, and ammo. Extra fuel tanks were installed and his radio was upgraded. He went through some final training to get fully acquainted with the gear, was crewed by some new tankers, and they were shipped off to Vietnam.
Marion kept a very close eye on the mail when she got his letter saying he left for Vietnam. The mailman never even touched the box for years, she was always out there waiting for him to arrive. They got updates from him often, he has some close encounters, close calls, and got himself some tank kills. and he got himself some stories. He served his time and re-up’d for another term. He was eventually rotated out of Vietnam and was transferred state-side towards the end of the war, just as the withdraw began. He took a month of leave to go home, and surprised Marion with it. She went out to go get the mail and was ambushed by her son Tyler, painted in olive drab with the US flag painted on his flanks. He made her jump with joy and rush him into an embrace. She cried onto him and clamped him against her, weeping about how much she worried and missed him. It wasn’t for a solid minute until she noticed Tyler wasn’t alone, she looked up and saw an American tank with the same gun smiling at them.
“Oh? Who’s this, sweetie?”
“This is Queen, my girlfriend.” Marion was very excited, she smiled to make herself as welcoming as a machine designed to kill and destroy can. It was a little bit easier than anticipated because Queen was also a machine designed to kill and destroy. Nonetheless meeting the parents is always awkward, and this is no exception. They conversed as they slowly made their stroll down the long driveway to the house. Her nickname was just Q, and Tyler and her had met just a few days after he arrived. She was an M48A3 version Patton tank. She was olive drab just like Tyler with similar company markings. After a long introduction Marion combed over her baby boy to see what the Army had done to him. She liked his new gun a lot, and his tracks, too, she expected the engine change and agreed that the cupola was a terrible and ugly thing. Q really liked her cupola. Both of them had scars all over them from the bush and combat, and there was rust in the skirts. While Tyler had blue eyes Q had light brown eyes, almost hazel, and she had a surprisingly cheery attitude for being right out of combat. Tyler was ecstatic that he was home again, and was very excited with how fast Q was accepted as family. Q and Tyler stayed together for almost the whole time they were home, they were inseparable and would be very on edge when not together. Marion had been watching the television because the news would broadcast footage of the war in Vietnam and it made her so terrified and anxious. She pried stories from Q and Tyler about what it was like, and from all their stores she understood why they never left the other’s side. It seemed that they were never scared of anything but sinkholes, mud, and infantry ambushes. They never really feared enemy tanks, aircraft, or even anti-tank weapons, but ambushes in the jungle and being torn apart would keep them awake for weeks on end. Marion and Hansel sucked the life out of them while they were home, and Marion made all the food she could for Tyler, nearly every letter he sent home mentioned her cooking and how much he missed it. There time was too short it seemed, and the month of leave they spent home flew by and they rotated back out to Fort Knox. Tyler would be acting as a Drill Sergeant and Q would be a guard for the base.
Hannah was still in collage, using government funds that was granted to the tank children for their classified life style. She was still going for her history major but now it was going to be a Masters and not a Bachelor’s. This would make her much more competitive in the job market. She was thinking about applying to a museum as an exhibit, she had heard that there were scenarios that relived battles from previous wars and she was interested in that as well. It was around ’76 when she asked her parents some deep questions about their war, a lot of uncomfortable questions. They knew this time would be coming and had prepared themselves for it, they decided the best way to do this was to sit down with Hannah and answer every question she asked the best they could. It was a very dark, challenging, and uncomfortable time for them all. This was healthy for the two of them, though, it got a lot off their chests, acting as almost a therapy session for them. They would answer a question then spout on about something like betting on how long someone would live, joking about how someone died, how humorous some of the maimed were about their injury. They opened up a long suppressed can of memories and let these memories indulge themselves, the dark humor that got them by, the little things that kept them going, how they felt about everything initially, how they transformed, everything from politics to their favorite brand of canned beef. Hansel talked a lot about the prewar he grew up in, the hardships and chaos that led to his whole nation blindly following the words of a self described disciple of a super-race. He talked about the fanaticism that these people flocked too, and made sure Hannah knew the difference between the ideologies. He told her that when he enlisted and was commissioned into the Wehrmacht he rose his hand and vowed on the bible to be ever faithful to Hitler, and to give his life for Hitler, but when he was put into the American Army he raised his hand and vowed on the bible to uphold and defend the constitution. He emphasized that the Nazi party swore allegiance to a man, and the Americans swore an oath to a document of ideas, of rights. He could not convey to her how much that means to him now that he knows the aftermath, knows the impact, of these ideologies.
“When you see children hanging in the streets because they would not fight for one man.., you begin to question any faith you ever placed in him.”
Hannah was satisfied with her answers, she enjoyed listening to her parents’ stories. For her parents it uplifted a burden from them, they felt relieved and a bit more secure about their history together. Although they still tried to keep it away and move on as much as they could, they weren’t as desolate as they once were when they did occasionally remember it, both the good parts and the bad parts. They used it to remind themselves where they came from and it realigned their virtues and values, they used it to make themselves better beings.One example was Hansel’s refusal to grow much hair, he kept his hair well cut and sharp and his face clean shaven, most of his body didn’t have hair and the parts that did were trimmed, too, but Marion loved his hair and Hansel gave it more thought. He decided to grow his hair out some more and that thrilled Marion, he grew at first a pretty pathetic excuse for a beard and mustache but eventually it turned out to be quite nice. It wasn’t full and thick like Whacker’s, Hansel’s was barely extending past his jawline, but it was enough to please Marion.
Eventually this led them to confront much of the belongings that they had sealed away in an outside shack. They brought Hannah out there and opened it up, Hansel pulled out guns, ammo, uniforms, trinkets, photos, and all sorts of relics they had. Hannah was enthralled by it all, she lost herself in the items, examining them and asking about their significance. She pleaded that her parents put up the photos they had, she thought that they looked lovely, and her favorite was a photo of a very young Hansel his sister in their school uniforms while sitting in front of the door to their home. She eventually pressured them to put up the photos around the house. Hansel was collecting various things to burn or destroy but Hannah stopped him and explained her reasoning, she said that eventually this all would be worth some money, some good money, and gave examples of items and their worth dating all the way back to America’s slavery days. If there are components of slavery in the market that are valued at a pretty penny, she says that even the Nazi banner will be worth something.
Things got better, Q and Tyler got married and got a place in Florida, Hannah got her job finally as an exhibit and started looking for her own place, and in the mid 80’s Whacker and Shellproof finally had a baby, a beautiful human baby boy. Once again Marion asked how they did it, and with that answer she glared at Hansel and told him that once Hannah’s finally in her own place their having a human baby. Once she does move out in 1989 Marion pounces on Hansel, and gets him to start their next little one, a little girl they’d find out. When time came to name her, Marion remembered in a spark of brilliance what she wanted to name Hannah, and so they named their second daughter, their third baby, Jasmine. Jasmine Walter came into the world in 1990.
Fin Ch 55

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Dear Elfriede

Dear Elfriede,

“Elfriede, oh you won’t believe this, dear!”

“What is it, Mr. Hotchkins?”

“You’ve gotten a letter in the mail!”

“A letter?” She couldn’t understand how anyone wrote her a letter, after all, she’s a tank in a museum! “Well go on, who’s it from?”

“I’m afraid I can’t read the name in the address, these summer rains ran the ink.” She scoffed.

“Typical. Alright then, open it up, read it.” The man cut open the letter and removed the message, he began to read it.

“Oh it’s in German, well my Germans not the best but I’ll give it a go anyways!” He cleared his throat and held it in the light.

“Dear Elfriede,

It’s been a very long time since we’ve been together, fifty years now, and to this day I still cherish the time we spent together, and I regret our parting on that dreadful night. It really was a shame. I often think of you, what might have happened had I stayed, would your fears be recognized? Would I be shot? Would I be barred? But mostly I think of what may have happened had we stayed together. Maybe we would be still together, maybe we’d be wed, be happily married with children of our own. Maybe. Nonetheless, I can’t say that parting wasn’t fruitful, but Elfriede, Love, I still miss you. I may have been just a young, reckless boy in a man’s world, just barely old enough to be fighting, but you made it worth it. Because of you, and the fond nights we spent together in love, I left that war remorseful, not dismantled, and I left with my worst nightmare being that I left you to die out there. Well isn’t it God’s blessing that you didn’t? I spent decades working with other record holders, diplomats, and counselors to track you down, to find out what happened to you. It was only a few years ago I learned that you were still around, and I’m writing this letter just after learning your residence. I do hope that you are in good repair, and I wish that I could see you once more. But that won’t be, my wife died not too long ago, and I know I’ll follow shortly. Elfriede, I just had to tell you one last time that I love you, and I know you cannot read this, and I pray to God, almighty, that someone reads this for you. I hope that you are happy. I love you, I miss you, and you are not forgotten, my love. I still remember your favorite story I’d read you, and I want you to know that I had two children. I had two children and I named them, for you, after your favorite book. Not only that, but my son has found love much like we did, and they have beautiful children together, Elfriede. I cannot express my gratitude enough.

Love, Walter”

Elfriede was very emotional, if she physically could she would be crying, decades of worry and wonderment were settled, she had her answers, but now she had even more questions.

“Elfriede you never told us you had a love interest!” She fought hard to form an understandable reply.

“I did, and now, now I still do.”

“Oooh! Elfriede! He wrote his address on the backside! Do you want to-“

“Yes! Yes! Yes! I have so much I want to send him!”

“He mentioned your favorite book was the name for his children, what are their names, dear?”

“Hansel and Gretel.”

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BB-55 North Carolina “The Showboat”

Edit: Blog by Gingyflame

This is a long time coming, been over a month since I actually visited this absolutely gorgeous beast. Her name is North Carolina, designation BB-55, and otherwise known as “Showboat” for being so pretty. She is berthed, or rather beached, in Wilmington, NC, off of US-421 on her own little road named “Battleship Road” off Cape Fear River. If you’re on the East coast, or near North Carolina, you owe it to yourself to see this ship. She is by far the best ship I’ve visited, condition wise she really looks like she could be towed out to sea tomorrow, and there is so much to see and do with her, and ticket prices being only like $12 to $15, its a fucking steal. This ship will take up your day. If you plan on going, set aside the whole day, there are tours but you can self tour at your own place and there is no where the tour goes that you cannot go alone. She has so much to look at, so much to see, I really cannot explain how much stuff there is on this ship to see. There are a lot of ladders, or stairs so steep its actually a ladder with a hand rail, and tons of knee-knocker risers in the frames so if you go wear shoes or boots. No flip flops, no slides, no heels. You can bring your own food and drink, too, and drink is highly encouraged because she is not under and AC, well ventilated in most parts but aside from fans there is no temperature control on her.

So I’m pausing to try and formulate just what all I should say about her, literally I am overwhelmed with stuff to talk about.

So I took close to 600 pictures and videos, but I’m not putting them all up because, fuck, but in some of the pictures I’ve taken you will see her T H I C C and beautiful hull, her awesome guns, her massive size, her strong armor, just, just so much. I really do not know what to say, I do not know what to describe. If you want to know something specific about her just ask, I’ll eagerly answer your questions.

As for recommendation and things you should know before you go:

Wear close toed and good fitting shoes, and make sure your feet will be comfortable. There is a lot of vertical movement on her, and no elevators, there are trip and toe-stubbing hazards all over her. Watch where you step.

Bring water or something to hold water. She is hot (and hawt), and big, and there’s usually a lot of people in very tight places entirely enclosed in metal.

She is tight, if you are claustrophobic, I’m sorry, but there are just too many places where you will be grinding against a wall or hunching over to fit into a ladderwell or space.

Don’t wear baggy clothing or have many things dangling from your person. There are gears and handles and pipes and grates and such EVERYWHERE, things like that WILL get snagged on them and as welcome as holes might be at the time in clothes it’s not fun tearing clothes.

There are some spaces that are more accessible to others, and those that are not as accessible than most. An example is her rudder room. The ladder into her rudder rooms requires going down a very steep ladder, that is maybe only a foot wide, through a hatch that’ll probably make you lean on the ladder to fit. Before you go gung-ho into these places look very closely to see if you can actually fit in there realistically. When I was there a woman locked up on this ladder and needed to be helped out. It’s very rare that it happens they say, but just be careful.

Wear a hat. You’re going to hit your head. You will. Wear a hat to pad the hit, please. And be very careful, I’m not a tall guy yet I still hit my head just trying to stand up in the turret.

ALMOST EVERYTHING IS ACCESSIBLE! Yes! You can climb into turret 3, climb into the dual-purpose 5″ batter mount, play around with some 20mm guns, and when I first went you could sit on the 40mm Bofors turret and swing it around with the manual controls. But last time I went the Bofors were off limits, but people still messed with the guns as you’ll see in the video, if I post it.

There are some breathtaking views from her high rises. You want some elaboration? It’s literally what I just said.

She is only open from 8AM to 5PM. Every day of the week. Holidays are weird so check her website.

Other than that I really got nothing. Now I just have to pray that all my pictures I’m gonna try to upload fucking work.

Also, she is sexy af.

Her nickname “Showboat” was given to her after WW2, and after she had been retired, decom’d, and purchased by North Carolina, by the Governor of North Carolina, because of how pretty the ship was sailing down through the river. The name stuck and, well, she sure is perdy.
After the attack on Pearl Harbor NC was the first ship to pull into harbor, and being the newest ship in the USN, the sailors and survivors said that she was the most beautiful ship that they had ever seen.

Just some fun facts about this beauty.

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Titanic’s Captain -Short Story

This is a little fiction about Captain Edwards J. Smith, the captain of Titanic when she sank. This whole interaction is fictional and there are no records of if the Captain believed any of this and the records regarding his fate are controversy. This is just my fictional take on him and his fate from the viewpoint of Titanic.

Nonetheless, it is her sinking anniversary, so I’m posting it today. Enjoy.

Bradley and Titanic were relaxing on this cool evening. The moon was low and full, the waters flat and peaceful, the sky clear and calming. They sat together in each other’s arms. Violet was asleep, Britannic was being repaired, and Olympic was probably off catching up on whatever she’s been missing out on. Bradley was enjoying the moment but something was nagging at him, it had been for weeks. It was something to do with Titanic and her famous voyage, so he tried not to ruin anything, but this just wouldn’t stop nagging him. So he asked.
“Titanic, honey?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Ah, nevermind.” He couldn’t figure out how to word it.
“No, dear, what’s the matter?” She thought it might be something romantic, something dreamy.
“Ah.” He sighed. “So how did Captain Smith react to you sinking.”
“Oh.” She was disappointed, but not by much. She knew how he was. “Yes, Captain Smith.” She didn’t know how to explain it, so instead she offered to show him through her memory. Bradly accepted her request to have his answer. He joined with her and instantly was with her in a flashback-imagination trip. It isn’t all that often that they do this but when they do conjoin their minds he takes no time to become a size enough to wrap his arms around her and hold her hull. As he pressed their bodies together Titanic played back her memory. Their bodies chilled to a near freezing temperature as they grew heavy, shudders and fear enveloped them and tormented their thoughts, but amidst all this Bradley knew this wasn’t real, that this wasn’t happening again. During these trips Titanic usually loses her sight and arms, and she does lose them in thought this trip as well, but Bradley’s presence kept her demons at bay. His warmth on her hull, his imagined arms on her body softly stroking down her ribbed hull, his plush and hot lips planted in a kiss by her starboard bridge wing and kept her memories in check. She was still in control. Bradley was all sensual on her hull when he heard a strong voice echo in his mind.
“Titanic, this is my fault.” Without even having to ask his lover knew and told him who it was. That’s Captain Smith, dear. “I’m terribly sorry about this, -I, I wasn’t quite right in my head. I just wanted to end my career off with a show, give you a good name, and then maybe we’d both get a good deal out of this, eh? But no. I shouldn’t have been so demanding of you.”
“Sir?” Bradly recognized that voice, that booming voice was Titanic’s. The exact same one that he heard himself all those years ago on the bottom of the sea. Only this time her voice was more desperate; innocent in her tone of voice.
“It’s too late, deary, I have messed up. There is no way to reverse this, Mr. Anderson has proved it. I just hope that this isn’t your end, dear. You truly deserve much better than this.” Bradly felt a large, warm hand on one of her engine command posts. Sensual rubbing to calm her down began as he spoke. “I hope that if this is the end you go to a better place, you’re too innocent to know anything else.” Bradley could feel the anger rising inside him, Captain Smith. “I was a damned fool! You didn’t know any better-you couldn’t have known better! So much had gone wrong for you to understand the consequences, and I should have guided you! But no, no like a damn fool I cast those warnings aside! I pressed on! I never should have! Damned hell, I should have stopped in Queenstown!” He stepped away from the instruments. Titanic was silent. “The only thing I can do now, like any respectable Captain can do is comfort you as far as my breath will take it. Titanic, if I failed to see you to New York, the least I can do is see you to the end.” He paces around, he uncovered and rubbed his balding head with a clammy hand. “You’re so young, so new, so fresh. Just a greenhorn, no experien
ce of yer own. Not an ounce of wisdom. So new you’ve not one barnacle on your belly. But me? Dozens of voyages. Dozens of voyages aboard dozens of vessels. Titanic, please listen here, if by some miracle you have another chance you be damned sure that no godforsaken captain of yours makes the same mistakes I did! For the love of god you set him straight! If there’s another fire, another near collision, another warning of hazards, if your lookouts don’t have their binoculars you don’t move an inch. Promise me that, promise me you won’t let someone like me ruin you again?”
“I promise, sir.” The memory faded away, but Titanic kept them together in her mind, she told the rest of the story. He kept her company until the water was too much. The water flooded the room and before she could realize it he was gone not a trace of him was left. She couldn’t tell if he’d been washed out or if he’d drowned right then and there. All she knew then was that she was one person closer to being alone. Bradley asked her not to let go, to let him hold her for the rest of the night. She was going to ask the same.
Fin
Today I got back from a trip to the battleship museum BB-55, USS North Carolina, AKA The Showboat. I have probably three hundred pictures of her, she’s so beautiful. But if you guys want-or maybe I’ll do it anyway-I can post up the pictures and a little run-down of the trip. She’s really fantastic and one of my favorite museums to visit ever, if you are in the state you have to do it, you owe it to yourself. She is very affordable and very much worth it and more, with so much you can do you get more than your money’s worth out of it. The gift shop may be pricey with some stuff but hey, when you’ve gone through her you’ll be pretty inclined to support her. Take it from me I’m somewhat of a cheap bastard. She’s in Wilmington, North Carolina, on a little offshoot of I-74 I think, she’s not hard to find and easy to access. Going through all her spaces might not be for everyone but I’ve seen very large and small people all over her so if you have the will there is the way. (so tempted to put da wae meme in there but I didn’t, be proud pls) Anyways if you want more just ask!

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HaM Ch 54 Hannah

This chapter is pretty short but one of the biggest events in their lives, everyone, meet Hannah.

Enjoy.

HaM 54

The room renovations were finished shortly before Marion went into labor. It was sudden and out of nowhere, she was minding her business outside, tending to some plants in her garden when suddenly she was slammed with a huge shock and convulsions inside her. Her first thought was the baby must’ve rolled onto something like her driveshaft, it happened before, but this was everywhere, this was something much more. She realized what this might be, still unsure, and crawls her way into the hanger house, dragging herself and the dirt and plants with her. She was breathing heavy and very fast, she needed help and called Hansel, trying very hard not to break the phone. The ringing phone made her ‘head’ throb with pain and she groaned as she felt her insides churning. Someone kindly answered the phone and politely asked who was calling.
“GET HANSEL WALTER!” The urgency in her voice was enough to panic the receiver and Hansel was very quickly, almost instantly, put on the phone. “It’s coming! It’s coming! It’s coming!” Marion huffed out every breath, Hansel put it in full gear and threw down the phone and ran to get his things. He bear-hugged his bag, coat, and hat, and ran out the back to his car.
He had to pass the office on his way out and yelled as he left: “Gotto go! Urgent!” Roberson knew it was about that time and dashed to the doorway to call after him.
“Hey! You need help!?” Hansel didn’t hear anything as he dumped the stuff into his car. He raced home as fast as the car would let him, and he slid into the driveway churning up the dirt path with his vicious acceleration and breaking. He threw the car into neutral and jumped out running to the open hanger door, he didn’t notice anything. He ran in to the main space and up to Marion, she had drug herself to the phone and no further. She was there, uncomfortable but not in the amount of pain as earlier. Hansel spat out a thousand questions about how she was, how long she had, what she wanted, what he needed to do, and if he was too late. She told him she’s alright, that she’s in labor and that she must be very close to birth. Hansel’s mind settles and cleared and suddenly remembered everything he had forgot. He took in deep breaths to calm down and he turned back to his car to park it. He noticed all the mud and plant parts all on the floor that’s he’d have to clean, he’d call the doctor and some help most likely, he’d call in to work to tell them what happened. His car had drifted into a tree so eventually he’d need to pop out that dent and clean up the scratch but everything else about it was alright. He parked it and went to call the doctor, the doctor said that Marion would have to give birth out there in the house, and would need some help to hold her up. Hansel tried calling some friends to see if they’d help and was able to get a few to help out.
He kept up with Marion and tried to keep her comfortable with ice packs, cool drinks, hand massages, whatever he could to relieve pain. She’d have flashes of contractions and then she’d be alright again, Hansel just hoped that help got here quick, before Marion tried pushing a baby out through the ground. Not too much help was able to make it but they were determined to make do with what they had. The only ones that could arrive on this notice was Mini, Shellproof and Whacker, Fritz and Jäger, Porscha, and unexpectedly Inbred and Erika showed up, Whacker got ahold of them and with this gang it’d turn out that they had enough strength to pick Marion up completely. Hansel thought that they would at least have to use the reinforced rafters and gantries in the ceiling to help but now that was just a luxury. They still rigged Marion’s rear end up with chains to the gantry and on the end were Mini and Shellproof, their engines had the grit to pick her up rapidly with Fritz, Jäger, Porscha and Erika picking her up off the ground where her lower glacis was almost flat on the ground. All the people would be nearly under her waiting with a large dolly and blankets to catch the baby and get her out fast. They waited around all day for Marion to start giving birth, but all they got for the day were contractions and false alarms. And so, of course, the real thing happened in the most inconvenient timeframe when everyone was tired, bored, and absent minded. In the early morning hours of a new day, March tenth, Marion had the fiercest contractions yet, what normally starts as hard and labored breathing was instantly screaming, jolting everyone into action. Everyone quickly assumed their duties and knew this was it, Marion was screaming and hollering like never before and she was flexing her body to the point it groaned. Usually the shows go on about how she’s cursing the husband for what he did to her but not Marion, she’s been wanting this for far too long. She did scream about the pain but her drive was fueled by everyone egging her on, telling her how well she was doing and that everything was going fine. They kept chanting ‘push, push, push’ as the newborn slowly appeared.
The first thing to come out was a lot of goop, various fluids and materials fumed out and slipped to the ground, orange, grey, and brown colors. The first that they actually saw of Hannah was her exhaust pipes, bare and filled to the brim with placenta fluids, and slowly her stern eased out, stretching Marion’s vagina to where Hansel felt uncomfortable, regardless he carried on with his task and grabbed his daughter to help the doctor guide her onto the pallet waiting for her arrival. Hannah’s turret seemed to get caught on Marion and caused Marion to scream even more, the doctor took a pry-bar and eased the vagina over the turret, letting Hannah slip out almost instantly. As soon as Hannah was out the doctor took the cutters and snipped the umbilical cord and helped race Hannah out of Marion’s way. All the tanks eased Marion down very, very gently and kept up the encouragement. Telling her it was beautiful and it was done, she did great and it all went perfectly. The doctor, Inbred, and Whacker were busy cleaning off Hannah’s intakes, exhausts, and mouth before getting her to breath on her own. It took a vacuum and some squeezing from Mini to get her to breath, and once she did breath she cried and screamed like any other baby would. Hansel was awestruck. Hannah was beautiful, she was grey-pink and a little tiny Marion. Her eyes were obviously there but clenched shut. Her arms flailed around and reached out at nothing while her drive sprockets spun back and forth without any tracks to grip, her suspension bending up into her recess and pushing against the pallet. Her gun was recoiled and pressed down over her bow, and she had no skirts, cables, or tools. She was an ugly mess right now but the most beautiful thing in Hansel’s eyes. He stood there unable to do anything but smile and cry, he admired his little angel forever. He was so proud, so happy, so overcome with emotions, he moved to her and knelt down, embracing his gooey messy baby in his arms and held it to her protesting. He drug her over by Marion so they could enjoy her together, their proudest moment, together. Marion was exhausted, she seemed faded from the endeavor and didn’t look to be in good health. The doctor was focusing on Hannah and made sure Hannah was as healthy as can be before moving attention to Marion. Marion was being checked out by the doctor and the other tanks when Hansel noticed Marion was staring at the end of her barrel. She wasn’t noticing Hansel or Hannah.
“Marion! Honey! Marion!” He got up and jumped to her side, “Marion, dear, look! We did it! You did it! Hannah! She’s beautiful! Look! Look Marion, Look!” His voice was ecstatic, he was full of laughter and joy, he shook on Marion’s side and pointed at Hannah, still flailing around and crying. Marion’s eyes slowly shifted to Hannah. Her gaze was locked onto her. An arm fell out from under her skirt and Hansel jumped over to push Hannah up against Marion so she could reach her baby. Marion smiled wide and tiredly, she, too started crying and could divert her attention from Hannah. Sluggishly a tendril creeped out from Marion’s bow and slithered up to Hannah’s mouth.
“Hannah, ba-by! Mom’s here, it’s okay! It’s okay! C’mere, ba-by! Mom will make it allllll better!” Her several attempts to feed Hannah were in vain. She gave up and left her tendril there on Hannah’s deck and dozed off, weary and tired. Hansel was extremely worried for her and begged the doctor and Porscha not to leave, they didn’t and stayed to make sure Marion would be alright. Hansel stayed up for the whole next day, not leaving Hannah and Marion’s side for anything unless it was absolutely necessary. It turned out the others stayed for the night and weren’t going to leave without giving a more awake Marion their congratulations. Hansel watched with impressive excitement as Hannah wrapped an arm around Marion’s tendril and started drinking milk. Later when Hannah was asleep Marion woke up and Hansel instantly spat out everything in a wild blur, unable to control his excitement. Marion tried keeping up, but she was still loopy from her exhaustion and it was hard to concentrate and focus with all her hormones and emotions flooding her. She did pick up that Hannah had drank some milk, and that the others were still here. She could tell that he didn’t sleep and didn’t know how long she’d been asleep. She saw that it was about five-thirty on the clock, and the sun was setting. She silently smiled wide and brought Hansel close to her side, wrapping a tendril around his waist and clenching Hannah by her side, she looked at her family and felt the love fill her. She noticed the tired look in Hansel, the dried fluids on Hannah’s deck, and the equipment still hooked up to her ass annoyingly. But she didn’t care about that. She finally had her family, a family more beautiful than she imagined, with love much stronger than she ever felt, and optimism shining down upon them.
“Hansel, you look tired. Get some sleep, now, I got her.”
“I might try.” He said leaning into her side, almost resting. The stir brought out all their helpers, they cooed over Hannah like Hansel did earlier, said their congratulations to the new parents and went home. Marion suggested he sleep again. “I don’t think I can! I’m so anxious! I’ll just roll around, baby!” She giggled and ran her hand through his hair, it was soft, full, and relaxing for both of them.
“I think you’ll sleep fine, babe.”
“I don’t want to go.” He said looking down at Hannah. Marion carted him up and stretched him out on her deck just ahead of her turret, she was turned over Hannah so he had plenty of room. She brought him up to her lips and they smooched good, and shortly after he started falling asleep. “I love you, Marion.”
“I love you, Hansel.” She hugged him tight and stroked his body, his arm, his leg, his hair, and just before he dozed off she said she wanted another one.

Fin Ch54

Hannah is their first child, she comes out about 7 and a half tons and is going to be quite the challenge for the new parents. Parenting is not easy, maybe natural, but this is certainly not anything close to Cindy. And yes, Marion will get another child.

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Mogami

Aka clutched the hearthstone medallion in her palm and held it close, she looked down at her guns which were quivering with fear. She gazed back out to the horizon and saw the ships off in the distance bearing the American Stars and Stripes upon their flag masts. She prayed they did not see her, she prayed they moved on, she furled her Japanese colors and left up the pure white flag to signal surrender. She also kept up signals that read peace and exemption from service. She prayed over and over again, watching for any signals from them. She was nearing Japanese homeland waters, she recently broke off from her mother, Mogami, and her fleet with reserve fuel tanks filled with her milk. While she was two years old and already weened off breast feeding, it was found that breastmilk was a more efficient way of feeding Aka. Her guns were barely five inches, not eight like her mother’s, she had no training on them but how to load, aim, and fire. No drills. No practice. No confidence. It was 1943 and the tables were leveling out, America was fighting back-and winning. Thus leaving poor Aka alone and vulnerable. Aka watched the ships closely, waiting for lamp flashes to call her, her heart sank when she saw flashes. These flashes weren’t from lamps however, these were gun flashes. Quickly she prayed it was at another warship, one she didn’t see or notice around her. But it was just herself against them. As the screaming shell noises passed overhead she shook. And as the massive plumes of water shot to the sky far off target, overshooting her, she wept and cried for help. On every radio channel she cried, she cried for help and mercy, begged to be left alone, but when another volley came closer she knew there would be no such thing. She loaded her guns and turned to fight. It was her, a child, against two of the most elite of the largest war machine in the world. She knew she would not float. She screamed as her guns roared in desperation, her shot group was terrible, and absolutely none of her shells even came within a mile of the two opposing her. The next barrage struck her, shearing, jarring, ripping pain hit her and she screamed again, tears pouring from her eyes. She felt water pouring into her and while she was water tight she couldn’t take much of this fire. She fired back with the same results. She cried for her mother when she watched the dozens of gun muzzles flare with bright fire. She screamed as the multiple sized ammunition sunk its way deep into her fragile hull and exploded. Her engines stopped working but she kept on, pushing and clawing and kicking her way as fast as she could away from them, they were faster and had longer, more accurate guns. She pleaded for her mother. But as she was continuously struck, repeatedly bashed, and tortured, all the while calling for her mother, the only thing Mogami could do was scream back.

“AKA!” Mogami was shaking and trembling, her whole entity shook so ferociously with such intensity she knocked her sailors to the deck, she actually had to fight to turn around and run for her daughter, she threatened her own crew, those she loved, for fighting back against it. She screamed and hollered like a demon to be let free on the monsters attacking her blessed child. Her captain ordered the crew to prevent her from breaking off, they knew she could not help her daughter, too much sea to cover, and all she would do was sink, too. They didn’t see the point in wasting two ships. But Mogami did, she hated every single one of them for their actions. She roared like a hell beast, and as she heard her daughter dying she damned ever member of her crew individually by name. She physically abused a few she could reach, many knew how to fight back and free themselves from her mechanical clutches and helped others out before she killed them. Mogami was literally seeing blood as she popped vessels in her eyes, she threatened to detonate her ammo storages if they didn’t let her go. The captain called her bluff and it worked. “AKA! MOMA’S COMING, BABY!”

“MOMA!” She wailed in pain, her stern was blown clean off, she had no propellers anymore and was bleeding oil, milk, and blood in the blue ocean. Her vision was fading in and out, she looked back at the hearthstone once more while she still could, it had a polished silver outline in the shape of the Emperor’s crest and in the center was a pinkish-red gem, engraved in it was her mother’s name and birthdate: MOGAMI 14.03.34 she watched as her world faded away and turned dark with that hearthstone being the only thing in her memory. “Moma.”

“AKA! AKAAAA!” Mogami continued trembling like a possessed creature until the next day, crying and screaming and hollering for her daughter’s voice to return. Not a single soul missed her screams, not one person slept that night, everyone everywhere in that fleet heard her calls. No one would be surprised if the Americans that sank Aka heard, too. “AKA! AKA! MY BABY! AKA!” She disrespected her crew, damned them to the worst pits of hell regularly, occasionally she’d spit on her commanding officer when she had the chance, she would regularly try to kill her officers or sabotage anything she could. She made sure that life was a living hell for her crew at all times. She hated every single one of them, she hoped they burned! She would pray for their deaths aloud so all could hear her. It got so bad that the highest echelon of command heard of it and made plans to transfer crews to protect them. But every day she looked at her hearthstone, the one matching Aka’s, it had Aka’s name and birthday on it. Mogami would give anything in existence for her daughter back. Absolutely anything. Her honor, her dignity, her pride, her service, her sex, her engine, her guns, her fuel, her life, even her soul. She would give her soul to the devil in a heartbeat if he even mentions bringing her daughter back. She wouldn’t hesitate to give everything for her daughter back.

The absolute and unrelenting hatred she had for her crew and officers persisted with her to the bottom when she was eventually sunk by scuttling. She had done a lot in her life but she was still a failure, as with many Japanese military designs of the era too much was asked for so little, and in order to make these demands many of Japan’s numerous warring weapons had many flaws, Mogami was no exception. Though the failures built in to her she cared little about, she could overcome them, no her failure was in Aka, Mogami knew she should have been there, but wasn’t. And while Mogami certainly felt an enormous amount of guilt the death of her daughter was more affiliated with anger and hate against the ones who prevented her from being with Aka. And as time went on while lodged in the seabed she didn’t waiver in these feelings but neither side grew in strength. When she sank and when she was found she had the same feelings. So when lights swirled around her and she heard the voices of men she felt that fury build up and remembered her crew. Bastards, all.

“Mogami,” a man started when the various cables were attached to her, he went on about who they were, who sent them, and why they were there. When offered to be raised she stoped them and said she needed closure, first, “closure on what, ma’am?”

“My daughter Aka, sank by America, about 1943.” The whole crew in the ship so far above her were all puzzled, there was no record Aka existed above the surface, the only evidence was Aka herself and Mogami’s hearthstone, both on the bottom.

“Aka?” The fact that nobody knew of Aka set off Mogami, her daughter was so little in the eyes of her superiors they didn’t even care that she existed. Mogami’s vision went to blood as she scolded and screamed at the crew and her own superiors, eventually she calmed down enough to give them the last known location of her daughter, Aka had given it to Mogami when she spotted the two American ships in hopes to learn they were Japanese. From there she dismissed the ship above her, told them she would not reciprocate until she learned of Aka’s fate.

The crew searched hundreds of Japanese records for an Aka cruiser and found none, but in Mogami’s records they did find the reports of complaints by the crew and officers, and included in an investigation file was the reason Mogami turned so hostile. The record did mention that Mogami suffered a ‘tragic loss’ of some sorts and she blamed the crew. So her story was holding up to a degree, but Mogami said that Aka was sunk by Americans, who kept very reliable records, and when they asked to see these records they were denied. The specific records of the two ships possibly in the area, a Cleveland cruiser and a North Hampton cruiser, were classified for that whole week. Determined to find out some of the crew tracked down the surviving crew members of those ships who did share their stories. All of them lined up perfectly. The two American ships sank a very small cruiser that looked to be a Mogami class, the ship bore a flag of surrender and peaceful signals, but in fear of a Japanese Navy version of surrender-surprise-attacks the Japanese Army conducted the officers ordered fire on the cruiser. Their radars said the ship was close but being so small the gunners trusted the full size measurement and thus overshot. The cruiser’s capacity to return fire was pathetic, they couldn’t believe that was a Japanese ship. And as they learned later, it was a small child ship they sank, they heard the cries on the radio. The eerie and bone shaking screams of a child crying for her mother. That is why the records were classified.

The explorers gained some coordinates of the child and the two American ships when Aka sunk from a Quarter Master; the endeavor was etched entirely into his memory when he heard the screams, so strange. They hurriedly explored the shallow waters with sonar-that’s how shallow it was-and a unique contact was found. Upon further diver investigation they found her, they found Aka. All attempts to contact her failed, and instruments read flatline. Aka was dead. A photographer snapped a photo of her hand, clenched in it was the hearthstone Mogami gave her. The team was in shock, disbelief, how could this happen? The remnants of Aka told a painful and brutal death, one that was prolonged and painful. Her stern a few meters from her rear gun turret was sheared off but most of her machinery remained intact. Various additions that used to be there by obvious mounting points was missing, later they learned that they stored toys, extra fuel and milk, a navigation book, and numerous flares. Her hull was missing whole external section of the bulge, outer hull sections, she had tons of indents and ruptures. Everywhere you turned there was evidence of pain and brutality. Their investigation was complete, they had the horrible truth to tell, and that’s what they said to Mogami, the truth.

Mogami’s deepest and strongest ethers of hope were crushed, her small flame was doused, her worst nightmares, deepest fears, and the truth she’d known for decades was true. There is no other way to describe her but crushed.

The team asked if she would be raised now. She simply said no, defeated, destroyed, and desolate of any life. She saw no more reason to live, nothing was left for her, no motivation, no aspirations, nothing. She began to let go as tears welted and bled into the seawater, she felt herself grow numb before losing all sense in her furthest portions of her body. A creeping blackness began encroaching on her as she slowly died off, the dive team’s instruments read this, they were astounded by the readings, she was dying right before their eyes! Quickly they began recording absolutely everything they could measure and record, from body temperature to the color of the metal. One person rushed up and asked her one last thing, they asked what her final request was.

“I just want to hold my baby one more time.” But she knew she couldn’t. “Moma’s coming, baby.”

She died shortly after. The whole process of her death lasted about seven minutes, just shy of it. The team was heartbroken. They reported their findings to the Japanese representative, Japan got back to them that they had no other interests at the moment, and wished the explorative team good luck in raising the first living ship. Some of the divers recommended ships in the Bikini atoll, many of them were still in good condition and well charted, it wouldn’t be an excellent example of deep sea recovery but it would be at least a demonstration. So while contacts and orders were made some of the team told the survivors of the two American ships the fate of both Mogami and Aka. It was a heart wrenching truth. Many of the crews took full responsibility and shame for it, and soon they put a notion forth to have Aka moved to be with her mother, resting together. It would cost millions but moving a ship from shallow waters to deep waters isn’t unheard of, and is commonplace. So the crews set up funding accounts and fund raisers and Japan even chipped in to have its shores cleaned up. So the team eventually had the funds to move Aka next to Mogami. All of Aka’s remains were picked up and moved, everything they could find nearby her was moved above Mogami and lowered down gently next to Mogami. Mogami’s hull listed about thirteen degrees to starboard in the sand with her bow wedges deep into the muck, so the crew had to gently move Aka around the far protruding mast and angle her under it, snuggly next to her mother. Once that was completed they placed an ornate plaque that read their names, birthdays, and death days. And one noticed that in Mogami’s hand clenched to the base of her conning tower was evidence of her hearthstone medallion. There were some pictures taken, some prayers read, and a ceremony finished for them. At long last Mogami was reunited with her beloved daughter, Aka. The wreck locations were classified, nothing was published, everything about them was kept on the down low so they may Rest In Peace.

Years later the team revisits the wreck with a wreath from Hisashi and Yamato to find the two just as they left them except that their hands are clasped together, and in the hand that bind them together are their hearthstones, together again.

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HaM Ch 53

HaM 53
They would wake up very sore and very raw the next morning. Marion woke first and wanted to say she felt different but it seemed more like her mind playing tricks on her, she’s been wanting this for years after all. Marion tried to get up to go get some of her things to put on but her suspension felt funny and wobbled intolerably on top of her unable to balance herself. She was worried and called some friends back on base to get an answer. She called number after number but was left with a ringing phone. She tried all the numbers she knew but right before she was about to give up and get Hansel awake she was able to reach Tiger.
“Good morning, Marion! Sleep well last night?” She was joking a bit, she knew they banged.
“Tiger! I can’t move! I can’t get up on my suspension! What do I do!”
“Wait you two did have sex last night, right?”
“Yeah, we did.”
“Ah, it just means you had a good time. He did a real good job if you’re stuck. You sore? Feel a little rubbed down there?”
“Very much so.” Tiger giggled a little bit.
“Yeah, sister, he fucked you real good. You’ll be fine.”
“Well how long will I be like this!?”
“How good he fuck you?”
“Real, real good!” She blushed, just thinking about it made her smile, squirm, and giddy.
“Then it’ll be a long, long time, baby. You’ll be fine.”
“Thank you Tiger! I’ll see you later!”
“Oh ‘fore you go, if you laid him out right he’ll be messed up, too, sugar. Now bye-bye.” They hung up and carried on, but Marion wondered something. She called back. “If you want a remedy or something I got nothing, only been that way maybe three times ever.”
“Oh no, Tiger, I was wondering if Frau got back.”
“Oh, a-herm.” There was an awkward silence. “No, she and Canine are still.., are still gone.”
“Do you think they can do it?”
“Do what? Bring him back?”
“Yeah.” Tiger was quiet.
“No.”
“I, I feel the same way.”
“Marion, to be honest, I don’t think Frau’s coming back either. If she does, it’ll be like how Canine is. I think she’ll scrap herself.” This made them equally sick and sad. “I just wish I gave her a better farewell.”
“I wasn’t even there when they left. Dammit. This sucks.”
“Yeah now I feel like shit. Fuck!” They just sat on the phone in silence. “Well, I got a call from Faust not long before you called.”
“Yeah?”
“She figured out Anton’s gonna marry her.”
“I think we all figured that out a long time ago.”
“Fair, but it’s still nice to know she’s on the same page.”
“On that note I still don’t get why she isn’t with you all.”
“She was, Anton, too, but then they just took em. Still together, but someplace else.”
“Why?”
“I dunno, they’re tracking our healing here, I don’t know what they’re doing with them.”
“Well could you call them back?”
“Maybe. If I do I’ll let you know.”
“Alright, thank you. Bye, bye.”
“Goodbye!”
They hung up and Marion tried stretching her body out, it didn’t work at all and made her almost feel woozy. It was about now Hansel woke up in a cold sweat and very alert. Marion was alarmed and took it as another flashback nightmare. She started soothing him and talking to him calmly but he told her that wasn’t necessary. He told her it was the dream again, the dream with Rudolph and those ships, it was more clear. Marion asked him what was different but he wasn’t sure, he just felt like it was more real. He started to get up and was very sore, his body ached and he was really glad that he got the week off. He eventually did get up but decided to do nothing, just resting against Marion. He thought about what they had done, about how there is no backing out of this now. “Marion, what are we gonna name it?”
Marion was surprised by this and lost. “What are you asking? Name what?”
“The baby.” He was rubbing her deck with his hand.
“Woah, we just started Hansel, we can wait for a bit. First let’s decide for sure what we want.”
“Ok, what do you mean, babe?”
“I’m talking about its form, will it be a Panzer like me or a human like you, honey?” He thought about it, he didn’t know they could decide that.
“I didn’t know we could decide that.” He thought about it, he loved Marion and he knows that he’d love whatever popped out of her. He never thought about what he wanted, though; he had always had thoughts of his kids on the swing, in the park, out in town, but this was before the war and well before Marion. He really wanted a son, that’s for sure. A son to carry the name and a little man to relate to. He never thought about whether that son be man or machine. “I, I don’t know. I just want a son, that’s for sure.”
“No daughters?” She sounded upset about this.
“No, babe, I’ll take my daughter. I just hope she’d be like my sister, more boy then girl.” Marion giggled a little.
“And why’s that?”
“Well my parents always said boys are easier to take care of than girls, and they were happy with my boyish sister. All their friends with daughters had all these weird troubles and birthdays, boy birthdays are easy.” She really smiled at that, made her almost laugh.
“Well, Hansel, baby, I want a little human. A little itty bitty thing I can hold in my arms, something you can carry.” That made both of them feel warm and gay on the inside, Hansel teared up.
“Okay,” he wiped his eyes sluggishly, “how do we make one of those?”
“We need to contribute every night until it births.”
“Okay, how?”
“We have sex, Hansel.” Hansel dropped the lovey mood and got really serious.
“Whoa, no! No I’m not doing that.” Marion was in disbelief.
“And why not?” She asked sternly, staring him down.
“I’m not going to hurt that child inside you, not happening! I’m not risking it.” She stared at him stunned.
“Hansel, you do realize that Zwei has done this? Right? They said that’s how it’s done.”
“But how does she know? How does he know? Baby, I can’t trust them enough to risk your welfare and my child’s welfare for their word. I’m sorry but no.”
“Hansel everyone has said that’s how we work! Jäger, Fritz, Rosa, Tiger, Kramia, Mini, Katelyn, they all said that’s how it works!”
“Marion, where are their kids? Where is Jäger’s kid? Or Tiger’s? Katelyn’s kid looks like a blend of Chuck and her, Kramia and Mini spat out a near perfect mix. I don’t trust them.”
“But what about your cousin? Huh? They have a human boy, Rosa said they fucked every night for it.”
“Marion, I don’t trust them, either.”
“You trusted all of them!”
“No, baby, you’re missing my point. I trust them with my life, but not yours! Not my wife’s welfare and certainly not my child’s! If I die, if I’m injured, god forbid but should something happen to me I wouldn’t care as long as you two were alright. I don’t trust them with that. Baby-guh, Marion, Marion I love you. I love you too much to let this trivial thing harm you, or my child.”
She was still angry with him. She declared she’d still try to get him every night.
And every night she did try. For the whole week Hansel was off they did have sex every night and it brought Marion’s hopes up, maybe he wanted a human so bad he gave in? In the week they cleaned out her hull and made sure everything was perfectly clean, it all was shiny and smooth and empty. They were happy and didn’t argue anymore. They worked on the baby’s room, leaving it blank to paint when they knew the baby’s gender. Everything was well until Marion’s hull sealed and she moved into a solid pregnancy state. After that Hansel stopped having sex every night. Marion would try might after night but after only three nights without his semen she grew irritable and very upset with him. Now Hansel had been dealing with random lash outs, she’d violently wake him in the night ordering him to make her something to eat or fetch her some scrap, trash, or whatever she hungered, but dealing with these lash outs grew annoying and going dry grew annoying at times. Mostly he stuck to his guns no matter what she did or said but some nights when they were laying in bed she’d make some moves on him and he would reciprocate. So occasionally they would have sex-and its some great sex at that-but way more often than not Marion was pushed away until she leaned away herself for the night. It hurt their feelings, made them feel bad, but Hansel kept on with the thought that it’s for the child.
Not everything was bad, however, during the day mostly she was her normal self but with quirks, as most women are when pregnant, and they loved each other very much. They trouble came when she sexually advanced onto him, Hansel went without it for maybe ten weeks in one stretch and it drove Marion so mad crazy she nearly raped him. Hansel forced his way free by jamming his thumb and finger into the joints of her arms and separated it to the point she threw him with pain. He ran out and slept outside in the car. In the morning she was very sorry about it. Hansel was very cautious about staying with her at night now for his safety so he slept in his car for a short while. Marion would remark bitterly about how he’d rather sleep with his car than his wife, implying it was sexual. This was broken when he was so horny he advanced on her and smashed her like when he impregnated her, she was fucked up for two days after that but still wanted him. She’d go through some trust issue states or some depressed stated but even as much of an ass as she was he stood by her through it all and never gave her shit. He was still obedient to her needs that weren’t sex-he’d perform sexual favors but not sex-and made sure she had the best care possible. At about five months in they got a doctor in to check the baby’s progress. Along with the doctor came Kramia, Porscha, Jäger, and Frau-Canine was revived and Frau was so enthralled about it she couldn’t contain herself for two months, constantly crying and thanking gods and all of that stuff, she also said that Anton and Faust were being used to test new armor and ammo with their gun shooting test hulls. The tanks talked about their man or kid while the doctor worked her stuff. After about thirty minutes of freezing cold instruments, hands, and uncomfortable and awkward insertions of body extremities the doctor concluded Marion was pregnant with a healthy growing girl. Marion was elated! The doctor left but all the women excitedly talked about it, discussing what gifts should be gotten, the color of her room, and what her name is. Marion shot down any attempts to propose a name, she reserved that only for herself and Hansel. It visually agitated Kramia and Jäger.
“If I can’t get Hanse to dick me then you can’t give me names.” That was her rebuttal, most of them were surprised by that.
“Marion, why won’t he do you?”
“It’s because I’m pregnant.”
“So? Mini fucked me silly, Igor cane out perfect.”
“He’s worried about the baby being hurt during it, so when we do have sex he’s very gentle, well, except that one time.” She smiled and looked off remembering back to that night, her eyes fluttered with glee.
“That’s absurd!” Jäger spouted. Frau didn’t look moved at all. “Frau can you believe that?”
“Well, Yes, But he’s not entirely wrong. Hear me out, he’s wrong, you can have great sex while pregnant, but the baby can be hurt because of it.”
“How?”
“Well Canine and I get really rough with it, he’s bent my frame many times, the baby could get hurt if he slams me like he likes to.” The others were shocked by what she said, not the baby part the rest. “What? We have sex. Did you really think we didn’t?”
“Well-most of us always think of you two as the old couple, like grandparents. No never thought you two did anything.”
“You girls are crazy, I’m not that old!”
“When were you built?”
“Canine and I birthed and met in Poland, 1939, we aren’t that old.” While the other ladies were still trying to accept that Kramia was caught up on something else.
“Wait, what do you mean ‘bent your frame’? I love it when Mini dents my ass but he’s never bent my frame.”
“Oh yeah, Canine bends me like a stick almost every time we smash. Here look, I always get these stretch and fold marks here and here,” she showed them areas where the paint was striped or thinned, thinned along her bottom and striped where her engine deck met the crew cabin. “He tosses me around like a toy and fucks my brains out, I’m just a zombie when we smash. He’s fucked me to where my engine comes out.”
“What the fuck!?”
“Yeah, shakes me so hard the hatches open and his cock pushed my engine out to the dirt, normally he flips and mounts me so that’s how it happens.” They were shocked, little old Frau gets the shit fucked out of her! They pried more info out of her like how often and how good it is, which is every month or so and it’s always a good pounding. “I spray him down like a firehose!”
They end their time there before their plans come up and they have to move on. Marion waited excitedly and sexually for Hansel’s return. He came home early with a bottle of red wine and some chocolates, Marion was confused but Hansel elaborated with news that he had been appointed the manager of supply and stock! Marion was already dripping wet because of the dirty talk that had gone on before, so the celebration sex didn’t need as much of a kick start but lasted quite a while. After the sex when the wind was gone and the chocolate was demolished she told him she was carrying a healthy daughter. Hansel was excited but disappointed, he really wanted a son. Marion, being in the great mood she was, promised him another try after this one, maybe one that was human.
They carried on as before, Hansel was still resilient with withholding himself from her, which angered her, but he would relieve her more often. As they get into the new year, 1951, they knew their baby would arrive soon and sat down to decide her name. They discussed many ideas about her name, like origins. They knew she’d be a tank, so the discussion of schooling was decided as homeschooling, but they still wanted her to go out and see things-problem was her existence is classified. The base is all she’ll have. So they’re homeschooling her and maybe have her be taught by others up on base for a more diverse education, so they thought that maybe it wouldn’t matter what they named her? Yet still they wanted a good name with her that is easy in English and is still German. Marion remembered that she really liked the girl name that Rosa and Joshua had for their baby, but he turned out a boy and she couldn’t remember the name. They thought of Amanda, Samantha, Edith, but they didn’t like them. Hansel personally didn’t sit well with Samantha, and Marion didn’t like Edith, it just sounded like a shrewd old hag the more she thought about it. Marion felt like Hansel didn’t have enough of his genes in her, she felt like nobody wound be able to see any Hansel in their baby, so she at least wanted to have something that made people think of Hansel when they saw her. Marion and Hansel liked Amanda, but Marion said she wanted more Hansel in the name. They decided on Hannah. They’d name their first born Hannah Amanda Walter. A good English-German name that they both liked and held a nod to Hansel, now they could only hope that the name fits the girl.
As the time came closer and closer they hurried to finish the room and adjusting the house for the baby, it was quickly discovered that Marion was too big to get to the base, she was too heavy for her suspension to handle the dirt and marsh roads and her endurance and energy was low, more focused on producing the baby. She would move around the house and then lay her belly on the ground to take pressure off her legs, the treads, and the floor. Her weight was very noticeable to Hansel as he’d inspect her every day and he’d notice the solid rubber dampers on her road wheels had swollen and bulged out under the weight, he worried about finding replacements for his child and his wife. He’d have to special order them from someone. They had Whacker come down to do the wiring, and so he could teach Hansel some general up-keeping routines. Shellproof came with him to talk to Marion, turned out she wanted a kid, too, but not for a long time. She wanted Whacker to build up his own store or company or whatever he said he wanted, she wanted him self-employed. Whacker did have the same aspirations as her, but progress was very slow. Most of what he did earn went towards her maintenance and his economical development. He had poor investments, and asked Hansel for help with finances, he didn’t understand money at all. So Hansel taught Whacker finances and Whacker taught Hansel basic wiring. Shellproof and Marion talked about pregnancy, what to expect, and the plans for their babies. Once the job was done they all gathered around and ate dinner together, where Shellproof accidentally spilled the beans and revealed that they were getting married.
Fin Ch 53

Filed under Gingyflame, Stories · Tagged with , , , ,

Fuso, The Gentle Giant

Fuso, The Gentle Giant
Fuso felt fear, felt desertion, felt her life fading away. The wound she sustained in the skirmish proved to be too much. Slowly she’d been watching her bow dip more and more starboard and felt the seawater flood more and more ever so slowly. But just like snow rolling down a hill, it built up exponentially, and now her deck was awash with the deep. She felt guilty of this, she didn’t tell anyone that there was still water pouring in, she didn’t tell her officers that they were shooting at Mogami, she didn’t talk of how she felt splitting the fleet up might be bad. So now in her guilt she blamed herself for the death of her sister, the damage to Mogami, and now her own death. Tears formed at her eyes as she tried to redeem herself for something and sliced the ties on the boats to let them loose. The only thing she could now hope for is a swift sinking or death and that as many sailors as possible get to safety. She felt all the sea filling her up, every nook and cranny was being filled and it spread faster and faster. She noticed herself beginning to roll over and when she did the movement inside her came to a tremendous uproar as an explosion occurred, then another, and another. One by one magazines were detonating and they ripped her in half, the explosions left her weak and sick, she felt her two parts drifting further and further away as she stopped flooding and was just suspended with her belly up in the air. She felt so very ashamed, left so vulnerable, so exposed, so embarrassed. She felt that Americans were laughing at her, joking and pointing at her belly and how red it was or all the bulges on it, the feeling made her weep. She could tell how she had been floating for about a full day when suddenly she felt vibrations in the water with more sharp stabs at her sides; she was being shot again. She wept more, there was no way she was not seen now. She was sentenced to the bottom even though as she wept she pleaded to save her, she had done nothing wrong, only good, and to please spare her miserable life. Her pleas were never heard.
Fuso felt the unstoppable surge of the Pacific fill her yet again. What moonlight she saw through the waves like stray streaks soon faded to black as she sunk deeper and the tears clouded her weak vision. As she began to plummet she felt weightless. She felt water flowing all around her and it grew faster and faster, stronger and stronger as she hurtled to the bottom of the strait. She felt things like searchlights, cranes, railing, radars, optics, lockers, ladders, and many other things not fastened enough be ripped off her body and strewn about like confetti. Suddenly the weightlessness was gone as she slowed drastically and and gently came to rest on the bottom of the Surigao Strait. Her first moments on the bottom were of guilt, feelings of desertion, confusion, and agony. She felt like she deserved this, like no matter what she did it was not enough and she deserved this miserable death, this miserable torture. She was in a state of confusion as to where she sat, the sand on her belly was an alien feeling, one unwelcome in every respect, and at a slant starting higher on her port side and disappearing somewhere beneath her starboard side belly. She couldn’t tell initially if she was on a undersea mountain or sitting at a list. Once she eventually regained a sense of gravity pulling on her still she decreed she was listing. It was pitch black, there was nothing down around her but herself. She felt like she was lying in her own corpse, a mangled and dismembered corpse strewn around by a beast who needed entertaining. She began going mad, insane, crazy, any adjective to describe what isolation and absurd thoughts stirred in what little thought she had wasn’t enough to do justice. She tried putting a hand in front of her eye to even try getting a glance at something, anything, at all. She couldn’t see it even when she bumped her hand into the eye window panes. She tried so hard to see even her hand, and she couldn’t. In a fit of insanity she literally clawed out her window eyes-and enjoyed every moment of it. Because of her age she was one of the first ships in the world to see, and her original eyes were on her conning tower right behind the second main gun turret. She eventually did try to claw out those eyes as well but being of an older method they were not able to be clawed out, instead she just had massive trenches and pock marks all up and down that armored face and neck.
When she wasn’t driven to the point of self mutilation she was crying, weeping, pleading, praying, and regretting everything about herself and to be brought back. She tried her dammed hardest to manage a watch and keep some record of time but this was so rapidly turning into a failure she abandoned it, along with hope of returning to the surface. She had no concept of time, no sense of direction, purpose, or meaning to anything. Instead she could only mope in the past and self mutilate herself or feel herself wither away and old everyday functions disappear as she rotted and rusted on the bottom. Forgotten, and lost. Complete insanity hit her like waves the beach, coming and going in time. She never could tell if there was a set time between swings, if it took longer or shorter, or what; she had no sense of time. In fits of madness she would pick and scratch at her armor and decks, peeling away anything loose. All she wanted was to feel something again.
Over the years she forgot what it was to see, forgot what the light looked like, forgot what she looked like, forgot what air was like, the splash of water on her hull, the simple things in life had left her memory. She had no recollection of life before being sunk. Occasionally she would feel disturbances in the water and become suspicious of whats going on around her and would sometimes think that someone had come for her. At one point she remembered life afloat, more specifically when she was in love. He was so romantic, so handsome and attractive. They made great love when they were together. It made her remember all the things they good together and everywhere they went. Her most enjoyable memory was when the earthquake hit the islands, Fuso as well as Kongo, Nagato, Mogami, and many, many other Japanese warships, and ships in general, took relief supplies to the islands. It was her most proud accomplishment. It was made even better when her lover and her made love all night long, but when the memories came to an end she remembered that was the last time they made love and one of the last times they held each other. He died of illness in her sickbay less than a month later. Thus her little trip of happiness came to an end as guilt and despair took over again. She was crying alone in the pitch black again.
Her body was weak, she felt like she was slipping away recently, she lost all her hope and didn’t want to deal with this anymore. All her emotional pain, all her physical pain, she didn’t want to deal with it anymore, it never ended. She was thinking a lot about letting go, just going away for good. She partly wanted to go away and was partly scared, what was there after it? Would it really end? Would it be a better place? Would she really go to heaven? Is she a sinner? Would her friends be there? That last one really broke her down into a bawling mess. What would her friends think? What would her sister say? She wondered how she was doing, if she was alive anymore. She wondered if Yamato finally opened up to her sweetheart, if Nagato finally broke her dry spell and got someone. She hoped that bastard that broke her heart wasn’t where she was going. She decided to postpone her journey, she didn’t know how long she’d wait, but she knew she’d get to it eventually. Once she mustered the strength to do it and let go.
A short time later she felt a disturbance off to her port side, she grew suspicious as always but unlike every other gut feeling this one didn’t go away. Her conning tower eyes were somewhat locked forward with very little ability to look port or starboard so she couldn’t see the light approaching her. She felt a strange feeling on her side that blanketed a conical area of her side. Slowly the light elevated and reached her decks, at first it was a hazy glow on her decks that strained her eyes but captivated them. She was laser focused on the illumination of her deck even though it burned her eyes and gave her the equivalent of a headache. The light grew brighter and brighter, she could see the colors she had forgotten, they were green, tan, black, brown, grey, orange, and white but she couldn’t name any of them, it was amazing! She vastly grew more and more excited to the point her hull quivered! Then it appeared, the raw light source. It sat above her second turret she vaguely remembered and peered down at her conning tower. She couldn’t see herself but she was staring at the light directly with a gawking mouth and drooling like a primitive looking at a modern marvel, eyes dilated and locked onto the light. Desensitized to all proper interaction she reached out to the light and grabbed a hold of the submersible and pulled it close.
Thankfully to the crew of the submersible this was only a drone sub, otherwise they would probably be screaming and panicking as their sub was drastically whisked from where it sat. While Fuso wasn’t being rough with the little thing she also wasn’t being very gentle, either. She was entirely mystified by the simple light and didn’t even put two-and-two together and think that someone came looking for her, but that is exactly what was happening. The drone was towing not only it’s own connection cable but a radio cable to communicate with Fuso, all that was needed was for her to grab the cable with non-corroded metal. The team tried to get her attention by waving the arm and cable around but she was still fixated on the light, they eventually caught on and waved the cable across the light. Her eyes caught on and trained on the black like swinging slowly across the orb. Her mind sparked up a thought and took it in a hand, the end buzzed and numbed her hand and it felt like pulses and communications of a sorts. She noticed the more rust it touched the less she felt it so she took the end and slithered it into her mouth and working it under her tongue. Suddenly she heard voices, voices! She was hearing people talk to her! The camera on the drone watched her face brighten up like a star as joy flooded over her, it was finally all coming together in her mind what was going on. Someone was coming specifically for her! She cried tears of joy as she heard her name on the wire, they were calling for her to respond, trying to pry information out of her.
“Hold on, I need a moment!” She cried, she wiped away tears from the recessions in the armor where her eyes were fixed. “I’m overwhelmed with emotions!”
“Fuso, Fuso is it you? Are you Fuso?”
“Yes! Yes I’m Fuso!” Her first thought was blurted out before they could say anything. “How’s my sister, Yamashiro?”
“Yamashiro?” There was a pause as she heard talking in the background. “Yamashiro is fine, she is visited frequently by divers. A deep dive for the experienced only but it is done.”
“Is she happy?” Again silence as background voices talked, they replied with uncertainty. Fuso asked about Nagato, Yamato, Kongo, and was depressed when she learned they all sank as well, but when she was told that Yamato and Nagato were raised and alive again, doing very well and were happy Fuso was elated with joy. She longed to talk to her friends again and begged if she could, and the Japanese crew on the other end said that she would but she’d have to agree to some conditions. But before she was read the conditions she asked about Kongo, she wasn’t mentioned. There was no pause here.
“We’ve never found Kongo.” Fuso was silent, Kongo was very close to Fuso and Yamashiro, because Kongo didn’t have sisters, just failed attempts at sisters. The fact that Kongo had never been found hurt Fuso as well, she was older and more lively than Fuso, she thought about what was happening to her and couldn’t even fathom how she was doing. It was time she decided on the conditions. She already knew she would probably agree to anything, she had already threatened her own life and gone insane many times over, it was all a matter of how bad she was going to be treated. She was read out this long list of terms and agreements where she kind of blanked out and looked at how miserably rotted she was, it was almost repulsive and was thankful that she couldn’t watch it happen to her. Once the list seemed to be dwindling to an end she paid more attention, once it was all over the speaker summed it up for her. “In summary, Japan is raising you and putting you back into service, you’re going to be upgraded significantly and act as a testing ground for future systems. Once you’re retired you’ll be put into a shipyard and converted into a museum for your service and live off of donations, being a museum, and maybe a few other means. Do you accept?” She was amazed, shocked, she couldn’t comprehend everything that she was feeling. She accepted as soon as she could croak a yes past her crying and the lump in her throat.
Redemption!
Reunion!
Work began on her to raise her once again, her stern section did drift away from the break up and sank in shallower waters, it was easier to find and salvage but worse off corrosion and stability wise. Her bow section was eventually raised and as the moonlight came back into her vision she openly wept in front of everyone, on her radio, thanking and blessing everyone who had helped her in any way. The first thing Nagato and Yamato heard of her on the radio was her pathetic whimpering and bawling, she didn’t even notice or care that they could hear her; Fuso kept bawling her eyes out over how beautiful the moon was and the glistening lights of the shore and ships all around her. Neither Nagato or Yamato suffered the same problems she did, Nagato could feel things around her and had many times talked to people and Yamato died, wasn’t alive for any of her time on the bottom. Fuso was completely isolated in a depth so dark that she was wholly blind and numb to anything around her. Workers noticed how mutilated she was, deep claw engravings and pock marks littered her hull and superstructure, and a lot of them were so deep they had to be filled so she could be floated again, she punctured her own hull in desperation to feel anything. She couldn’t get herself together for the night nor the morning, it was the following afternoon she stopped mindlessly enjoying her surroundings and realized she’d been on a radio with Yamato and Nagato, and that only brought more uncontrollable joy. She was able to at least communicate with them, the three were all excited to be talking to each other again. “Oh tell me everything! Everything I missed! I want to know it all!”
Yamato read from Hisashi”s book all the notes he took about life after Yamato’s sinking, every now and then Hisashi or Yamato or Nagato or Tyler would interrupt and elaborate on something of interest. They told stories of adventures and fun times but none of them mentioned Kongo. Fuso had to know what happened to her, when she asked Nagato piped up. She was very hesitant and unwilling, she said that Nagato was with Kongo when she was struck. She was struck with torpedoes meant for Nagato and she fell out of formation, they tried keeping radio contact with her but the last thing they heard was a call by the fleet commander announcing out an abandon ship. Then it was all silent as later survivors said she blew into two parts and sank rapidly. Nagato was in a painful memory. To bring up a lighter note it was Yamato and Nagato that pressured Japanese officials to investigate Fuso and Yamashiro for being raised. Fuso inquired more about Yamashiro and she was told that Yamashiro liked being down on the bottom, she enjoyed being a reef and attraction, so much marine life lived off of her she couldn’t see herself leaving. Fuso said that she’ll be able to get her up and out. Fuso was asked about being on the bottom and she almost broke down crying for not so good reasons. Fuso said it was torture beyond all belief, misery for no one to endure, and she admitted to almost killing herself to escape that hell. She did mention how at first she believed she deserved it but eventually she came to realize no one deserved that. Nothing did. Somehow that reminded her about her crew and asked how many were saved. Ten was her received answer.
She was silent again, she failed again. Guilt swept over her again, as she mentally slapped herself for her failure to let go the boats. Yamato and Nagato sensed their friend in trouble and moved to tell her it wasn’t her fault, how hundreds survived the sinking but refused help, how many were cut down on the beaches by the natives and that they chose to die honorably. That made her feel somewhat less at fault but she was now angered at the waste of life she was, not her life but the waste of life her sinking was, pointless death and something that could have been prevented had her crew swallowed their pride and accepted her plea to find safety. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel so fucking terrible. She was pampered up back to a cherish able mood by Yamato and Nagato and she stayed this way all the way back to Kure, wher Yamato was.
Yamato had a large smile on her bridge face and very large and perky eyes, her excitement to see Fuso again made her shine and glisten with happiness and affected everyone around her in a good way. But when Fuso saw Yamato it was almost the exact opposite. “No! Don’t look at me! Don’t look at me! NO! No! Please don’t look at me!”
“Fuso,” Yamato saw she was ashamed and grieved, Fuso had hundreds and hundreds of deep scars and wounds, her taboo trophies and her misery awards on display for all to see her disgrace. “Fuso you have no idea how happy I am to see you! I don’t care what you look like, Hisashi says I looked terrible as well! Don’t be ashamed!” Fuso tried to shun away in fear, and cowered even more when Yamato described Fuso to Nagato so she could get an idea. The two of them said that they were very proud of her, proud that she stuck through the isolation and praised her for surviving all that time alone. They gave her the warm welcome she never thought of, the love she had abandoned, together again after the isolation. Once again Fuso’s friends bolstered her into her own self, someone that hasn’t existed in over seventy years. She thanked the two of them, her two friends with all she could. They talked even more and more about current events, about the United African Federation, what changes have come to Japan, how the world moved on, and what the world thinks of living machines like them. Fuso secretly felt a little stir deep inside her when she learned that the living machine people were more accepted and more humans have been finding love in machines, and increased as she learned that the world had become much more tolerable of inter-racial relationships. While technically she wasn’t a race, more of a different species, she did align herself with the Asian “race” and culture, she was always interested in western people. Somewhat of a fetish or select turn on for her. She was drawn to them uncontrollably.
Fuso saw how ravaged her stern had been and realized how resilient her life metal was to the corrosion. Her stern was way worse than her bow, the mast was gone and the decks collapsed. She learned later that it sank and landed upside down which assisted with the collapse but in regards to the degeneration it was still much worse than her bow section. She was eased in to a slipway near Yamato, they were very excited to see the reconstruction. Fuso was briefed by Yamato and Nagato that she’d be asked what modifications she would want during the reconstruction and the two gave Fuso multiple ideas they had gotten done and some thing that they wish they had. Most of them were for utilities like cleaning, cooling her genitals, generals reach, and an ability to look all the way around her, but there was an impressive list they gave Fuso for the more.., fun things. They recommended multiple rooms outfitted with the ability to make love and cuddle, those rooms with a camera that has some mobility within the room, the cooling veins to be exposed for the sex organs-this made them more effective, less likely to cramp up, and when they were pinched the organ heated pleasurably and ramped up the feeling. That last part intrigued Fuso and Yamato equally. So when Fuso was interrogated for any modifications she presented them with the ones she liked and some other personal things that she wanted. She wanted her four 12,7 cm mounts to be upgraded and her radar sweep to be improved and modernized, she said she would like her battery of 356 mm guns to be upgraded to Nagato’s 410 mm and her main battery fire control to be improved as well. She requested more usable and faster deploying life rafts and a whole reconstruction of her damage control and fire fighting systems. She demanded that her passageways and compartments be completely overhauled so it is easier to abandon her. She presented all that and the little things that Yamato and Nagato recommended.
She was later advised on all the things that passed the bosses and mostly everything she asked for was either already on the list or accepted. It was when work began she learned of the things that she was denied, the first thing she disliked was when her turrets were removed the central turret wells were also gutted and the surrounding areas also cut out. It was cut out because Japan decided that Fuso, and any other ships they raised of prior military service,were to be converted to accept the new Aegis system and be platforms for guided missiles. That was one of the things she protested, another thing was the overhaul and near removal of her pagoda style masts. All the platforms were removed and replaced with all sorts of radars, search, tracking, fixed, revolving, all new bells and whistles that overtook her iconic look and stream lined it into a more solid structure. Yamato said that she thought it looked good for Fuso, who was at the time getting her open bridge eyeglass replaced. Yamato described her new look to Fuso:
“So all the decks above your face are gone and it’s plated solid. It has hexagon panels, looks like four, that encircle it. There are also some jutting antenna like posts for sweeping dishes and radar, it looks like you will keep your rangefinder and the old radar was removed and they put a mast in it’s place with many cool looking rods and radars, new radios and such. It looks more like my tower, actually. You even have the swept arms at the top with an observation deck right below the rangefinder. I think you still look like a hot woman to me.” That made Fuso blush, she looked away and appeared to tend to the wounds she was healing naturally now that she was healthy. Soon Yamato announced that she was close to halfway through her pregnancy, and at the same time Fuso was joined at last. Her innards were gutted and worked from there, installing all new propulsion systems and ventilation for the whole ship, new frame work, piping, system control, and pump stations. Her central smokestack was rebuilt and in place of the searchlights were new Close In Weapons Systems, designed to rip anything within a few miles a new asshole, her secondary battery of the 14 cm point guns in casements were all removed and covered over. Her four mounts of the five inch guns were removed and in their place was a turret that was designed to be eventually outfitted to Yamato when she’s called upon, it didn’t look much different from the enclosed ones already on Yamato other than the fact that there is almost no manual input in the turret and the gunners’ optics are now cameras and fixed tracking radar points. While her inner compartments were being furnished and tweaked her weapons systems and navigational computers were set up, she was amazed at what she began to feel as everything was powered up. She had a new gyro stabilizer connected to her systems that told her where she was, her rocking and swaying. She felt everything hundreds of miles away, while her radar was tuning she felt birds, birds! She felt the forests, the cars, planes, ships, boats, oh she felt everything! She learned that the system she was using was built and developed by the Americans based on the systems they used during world war two, and now Fuso saw why she lost, why the navy lost. There was no way she could run, no way to hide, and with the accuracy of the guns she understood why she didn’t stand a chance. She did notice that they weren’t precise in their shooting, and she’d eventually learn why. Her construction halted with two superfiring turrets forward and aft holding two 406 mm guns with a caliber of 50, the guns that the Americans were putting on their new battleships during the war, and her two old mounts amidships were gone and had instead two massive wells with hundreds of missile silos. She was excited, she wanted to sail out to sea and test her systems but knew she had to get everything aligned.
She did set sail and leave the Kure slips and Yamato, waving goodbye to her home and friend and set sail with a small skeleton crew to go to the naval base at Yokosuska where American techs will be to align and maintain her systems. The prospect of meeting Americans excited Fuso, she had all her upgrades placed and was hoping she could snag something fun to play with. It excited her, the thought of the taboo explorations chilled up and down her keel over and over. She noticed that she wasn’t overheating anymore and was much slicker, now all she wanted was some foreign meat to show her how they do it in the states. She soon arrived at Yokosuska and was entered against a pier surrounded by all new ships, all of them were so smooth and sharp! They looked nothing like what she had ever seen, only having one or two main battery guns and those guns were smaller caliber, she was staring in awe of these weapons of mass destruction. Hisashi told her like he did Yamato, he said every destroyer have more firepower than any battleship during the second world war. She was the most massive ship there and felt the smallest. She looked around and saw the two countries intermingled, Japanese colors amidst American colors and it made her feel unstoppable. She thought with America and Japan as allies they were giants, and dared someone to step up and challenge them. She learned that recently Japan had earned their offensive arms back and were allowed to construct carriers and long range missiles, because up until then Japan had a non-aggression clause in their treaty that disarmed Japan of any munitions or weaponry used for mainly offensive purposes. That included battleships and carriers.
Very soon after being docked she switched crews where the arriving crew comprised of Japanese sailors and American sailors, she smiled and tingled everywhere very excited and yearning to have some fun. She felt them as they stepped aboard with their bags and gear and immediately started trying to scope out who she wanted to go for. She noticed rings on some fingers and dismissed them, she’s not a dirtbag, and felt some were big and ripped, others were tall, short, broad, thin, all shapes and sizes. She felt some women in the mix as well, she was stunned to learn that women were serving in the navies, on ships as well. One of the men coming aboard felt very different, very, very strange. He was average size but much heavier, not big but certainly dense, She was drawn to him because of that and that alone, of course there were certain traits she was still looking for. She had narrowed the list down where he had to be able to keep it a secret, look decent, be enthusiastic, and have a fun personality. She decided she wouldn’t settle on any of her clauses and hoped for more, however. She let them settle in and unpack before she did anything to test them.
Very soon after the original crew was all gone the new crew were instructed to acquaint themselves to the layout in the best way-cleaning the entire ship bow to stern. “Fucking shit” resounded throughout the crew as they grudgingly went off to go find something to clean. She listened in on conversations and gauged some personalities on them and how they interacted. She tried to see if anyone would ask the dense one about his condition but nobody did and they all seemed to notice nothing. She bounced around but kept drawing back to him for one reason or another. She picked up enough to know he worked hard and took pride in his work with good dedication. She began to like him, but had never seen him yet and hoped he was decent and that he could hold a secret. She noted that everyone started to wrap up their work and were relaxing, she hoped that she could see the dense one and talk to him. Just before people started changing in the berthing some higher-ups came around and rounded up a working party to make the decks clean, Fuso’s aft decks are lower in the water and her new power-plant is strong enough to slosh some water up and onto the lowest weather decks. So dense man and some of his friends rushed out to get it swabbed and done so they could relax. There were three of them that got only one mop cart with three mops for the job and they hurried out onto the deck listening to their humorous talk. “You’re gonna spill it!”
“No I’m not.” The dense one said.
“Could you not spill it on my pants, that’d be real nice.” The third one said, he was stout and had some water slosh onto his pant cuffs. They bicker until they reach the stern jack-staff and begin swabbing, they’re gathered around the one bucket churning and sloshing their mops around trying to soak them at the same time, making sloshing noises and the slurp of plunging as the sticks are shook up and down. “I don’t think this is gonna work.”
“Yes it will, I saw it in a video on the internet once!” The dense one said, the three laughed at the comment.
“Fucking Christ.” The other one said, still dry and chuckling.
“It wasn’t Christ but close enough.” He retorted, compounding the laughter, Fuso got the joke at the first comment but the last one solidified it for her. She, too, laughed and giggled at the porn joke. She giggled and decided she was going to go for the dense man and find out if he’s dense in all the right places. She silently thought to herself in the back of her mind ‘jackpot!’
Fuso let them be while she figured out a way to meet him, how does she tell him she’s alive? How’d she do it the first time? Damn, can’t remember how. She had many difficulties thinking of how she did it in the first place, during her first cruise. She had forgotten how she was more accepted in the world and still feared an uproar. Right in the middle of her thought she lost track of everything and was surprised by a slapping on her conning tower. She was shook from her thought and she looked down and saw a man with a mug standing there looking right at her eye. “Hi!” She was completely stunned.
“Shit-uh, fuck!” She instantly spat out quietly, she was caught off guard, reeled onto her heels, it was the dense one talking to her! “Uh, hello there! Weren’t you just working-somewhere, uh, on the fantail?”
“Yes, but they dropped liberty and let us go. You’re still Fuso, right?”
“Y-Yes! I’m Fuso, so-uh, what’s liberty?”
“It’s basically free time. You speak English well, where did you learn?” She was stunned still, how did he know about her? What the fuck does he think of her? Is he single? He want sum fuk? What’s his name?
“Hold on, who are you?”
“Don’t try reading the name on my blouse, everybody else calls me a few things like Chad or Walter. I don’t really care what you call me. Probably’ve been called worse.”
“I’ll call you ‘Mitsuna Hito’ then.”
“Sure, I guess, so where did you learn English?”
“I learned it from Kongo way long ago. She was built in Britain and so she knew English. I had to help her with her Japanese.” He nodded understandingly.
“Makes sense, so how do you feel?” He was really up front about talking to her, she was not ready for this. How’d he know she’s alive?
“So Mitsuna Hito how do you know I’m alive?”
‘They told us when we got our orders.”
‘Oh, that makes things easy.”
“Mm-Hm!” He was sipping his mug. His drink was dark like tea but it didn’t look right to her.
“What are you drinking?”
“Sweet tea, it’s good. Want some?” He offered her the mug, she accepted the offer and tried it. It was warm and as soon as she tasted it there was a gritty texture imbedded into it and it was not the crisp bitter taste she expected. It shocked her and she spat some back out into the mug.
“THIS IS NOT TEA!” She proclaimed, thrusting it back into his hands. “That was disgusting! What’s in there!?”
“Tea with lot’s of sugar.” He was looking down into his mug, her saliva had mixed in and turned it darker brown like dark coffee. “And spit.”
“No, no, that is NOT tea! You don’t know what tea is, do you?”
“No I said it was sweet tea, woman, tea with sugar. I know what tea is.” He took a sip and nodded again. “Now I have sweet Fuso-spit tea.”
“I taste better than that junk!”
“Oh you wanna bet?” Immediately her loins started burning, she liked where this was going.
“Oh I’m sure of it, Mitsuna Hito, let’s bet.” He was drinking his strange drink still not sure what it tasted like. It was confusing.
“Bet what?” She thought about something before he could explain that nowadays it’s just an expression.
“If I taste better then, you tell me why you’re so different, why you’re denser for your size.” He was caught off guard and looked to his veins, he had very light skin and were clearly visible. His veins weren’t purple or blue, or even red, they were dark grey. All of them.
“You can feel that?” He whispered to himself, she heard. He shook his head guessing so and ran his hand through his thick and full auburn-red hair. “Uh, sure? I mean I would’ve told you if you asked but, whatever. And you? What if my tea tastes better?” The only thing she could think about was sex, how could she work herself into those pants?
“Well,” she stuck her tongue into her cheek bulging it, “what do you want?” She asked seductively with a little tongue flick across her lips. He sort of stared at it processing what she just did.
“Uh-huh, well,” he looked into his mug and swirled it, “I wanna go home but I don’t think you can do that.”
“No, no I can’t do that.” He nodded sadly and kept thinking.
“Well then if you don’t taste better then you tell me sea stories.”
“Alright, I was probably going to do that anyways.”
“Then we’re even! Great! Now I’ll get to asking around and proving you wrong now, nice meeting you!”
“W-Wait-!” She stopped him before he left with an arm. “What do people think of me?” He stopped, letting her hand hold his biscep firmly. He shook his head and shrugged.
“It’s a mixed bag, most of us are from other ships or have been waiting around for a ship. I got orders to you a long time ago and I’ve been hoping around other ships waiting for you to get here so I’m excited to finally be stable. I’m also very excited to be on a battleship, and one with quite the influence in history. But as for others, mostly happy to finally have our own ship, others are bored of it, many don’t really care, not too much negative complaints, but I dunno, you’ll just have to listen around. I’m pretty sure your Japanese sailors are honored to serve with you, wise and historical, a symbol of Japan, don’t worry too much about them.”
“So if I have a Japanese crew than why are you here, American?”
“Well, you have an American fire control system on you, and your Navy doesn’t have the crew with the job for it, so while they are trained we’ll be your crew. We are also here because you are being upgraded, not built off of the system, so we need to use our expertise to make sure you actually work.” He waited for her to let go of his arm but she didn’t. “So do you miss your midship guns?”
“I DOOOOO!” She whined and whimpered. He chuckled a bit.
“Don’t worry I miss guns, too, but you’ll soon fall in love with your missiles, big girl. I promise you that-and I fulfill promises.” The prospect of making him fill dirty promises made her wet, very wet. She bit her lip and mesmerized herself in fantasy, rubbing his arm persuasively. The thoughts that ran through her mind made her ooze, made her moan, made her tremble, and made her body electrifying as Walter could feel through his thin sleeve. He was enjoying the touch more than he thought, it relaxed his body and made him feel drowsy and energetic at the same time in a nice blend. It ended up arousing him as it was probably intended to do, and as much as he would love to smash some Jap battleship vag he couldn’t.., yet. He grabbed her hand and suddenly couldn’t let go, she pulled him closer to her. He propped himself against the jutting superstructure base and enjoyed the nerve massage while she lived out her fantasy. She was bringing herself to the brink of orgasming by just thinking about sex, that is how dry she has been. She finished right before she came and broke off from her ride and brought herself together with heavy breathing and muttering to herself in Japanese. She felt him still in her grasp just slumped against the bulkhead and she blushed hard, feeling the heavy heat on her cheeks and felt hot and sweaty. She had just embarrassed herself-or had she? It seemed like he had fallen asleep. “Mitsuna Hito? You awake?”
He didn’t respond, he was limp but breathing steady, warm and alive to the touch. He obviously wasn’t dead. Her body and hormones were still in a sexual mood and she was getting more and more curious by the minute. She hadn’t felt a penis in decades! Her curiosity overwhelmed her mannerisms and she decided to sneak a poke or grope. A mischievous hand slithered its way from his arm to his calf, gently squeezing the thick muscle on the steely bone. His knees protruded proudly and firmly yet slid under her hand as it passed over. His thigh was exhilarating to her, she was almost there and it started getting warmer as she got closer to his crotch She could feel blood pulsing under his trousers as her senses heightened and her breathing grew faster as her hand crept towards his nether region. But just before she reached it, oh how close she was, he stirred and started moving about. She quickly yanked her hand away and back to where it belonged. He fumbled around and got up to check the time. “Have a good nap, Mitsuna Hito?”
“Yeah I did, you have fun beating the bean?”
“What?”
“Flicking the bean?”
“What-what the hell is that?”
“Rubbing one out, masturbating. You enjoy it, perv?” Fuso blushed hard and showed through her new paint that she was embarrassed, she didn’t know what to say, why she did it at all, she was embarrassed. He chuckled when she blushed. “Ah! Don’t worry about it, I mean, there’s like, forty people in one small room for months on end, don’t think they don’t do it a few times? It happens.” She cooled off a little bit and giggled a little. “Just remember, when someone walks in on you masturbating, you gotta look ’em in the eye and finish.” She smiled jokingly and locked eye contact with him with her joking smirk. “Fuck. Aight, make it fast!” He put his hands on his hips, squared off, and stared into her eyes with a super-concentration face. They sat like this for a moment and they laughed it off, she didn’t do anything and he knew she wouldn’t. He started back to the door and she stopped him again.
“Hey, Mitsuna Hito, we had a little saying, too. It was the fish will always burn later, the hand is never wrong.”
“What does that have to do with anything? It doesn’t even-oh, well, Palmula Handerson is clean.” She laughed again.
“Who?”
“Palmula Handerson,” he held up his right hand and waved, “she’s always there, faithful, willing, tight, loose, she’s whatever you want her to be. She even has her own facebook!” He was chuckling by the last sentence. Fuso got it and laughed along.
“If, ok, if you have Palmula Handerson by your side, who do I have?”
“Paulm Fingerton, he’s from Flickensburg.” She laughed more, these names were so stupid yet hilarious. “Ok, well, I’m done. I need to go get some rest.” Walter headed inside to get some sleep, leaving Fuso to think about what had just happened. She felt ashamed of herself and disciplined herself not to do that again. She tried to figure out what made her go off the rails so much that she masturbated right in front of him and went for his genitals while he was asleep. That was wrong of her. She figured that she probably should get off or be gotten off before she does something really wrong. Only a few hours pass before nightfall and around then is when Walter wakes up, instantly Fuso talks to him in his head.
“How’d you sleep?”
“Wow.” He responded instantly.
“Don’t worry, you’re not crazy it’s me, Fuso. I can talk to you through your thought.”
“No, I know that, but wow, right off the bat. No easing into it, no warning, just boom! That’s how it is?”
“Yeah, yeah that’s how it is. Wasn’t it obvious?”
“Eeeh, nah.” He sarcastically retorted, “not obvious enough. Next time you should work on it.”
“Sure thing, so,” Her face turned into a naughty grin while she asked him the question, “uh, now that’s it’s dark out and you’re rested, you wanna do that taste test now?”
“I haven’t asked anybody yet, and besides I got shit to do in the morning, I gotta sleep some more while I can.” She knew him fumbling around was either because he couldn’t fall asleep again, or she had aroused him. “Fuck. I can’t sleep now.”
“Oh come on then! I’m sure I’ll tire you out! I promise you!”
“Oh really?” Suddenly she realized that this is what was making her so abnormal, this teasing build up. If she was going to get fucked then she’s all for it right now, but if not then this could be very bad.
“Walter I need to know something, this is serious to me.”
“Oh shit, what?”
“Are we actually doing this?”
“This?”
“Are we fucking?”
“Oh, no, not tonight.”
“Not tonight?”
“No, not tonight.” Her hopes were crushed a little, but he did say tonight.
“So if we aren’t doing anything could you not tease or play like that?”
“Yeah, sure. I won’t do it no more.”
“But you would do it? You said not tonight, not never.”
“Yeah, not tonight. But later? Possibly.”
“That’s all I needed.”
“Can I sleep now?”
“Yes.” There was a pause as he laid there staring at the bulkhead. “Need a lullaby?”
“Yes please.”
“Too bad.”
“Damn.”
She left him to sleep and wondered if he could be moved to one of her private rooms. She really liked where things were going between them and didn’t want to wait for things to get intimate before moving him. She did genuinely like him, he was pretty funny and not afraid to speak his mind, something Fuso aspired to be normally, not just situationally. She tried to figure out herself where she stands in the chain of command but couldn’t think of a good spot. The next morning she woke up Walter and asked him who she should talk to about her position. He said she probably would answer to either the Captain, the XO, or the CMC, those were her three options. She agreed to that and when the Captain was rung aboard that morning she followed him into his cabin and asked him herself. “Excuse me sir, do you have a minute?”
“Fuso, right?”
“Yes, sir.” He looked at his watch and in a little black notebook.
“Yes I have time, what do you need?”
“I have a few questions, sir. I’ll start with the simple one, where do I fall in the command chain?” He sat down at his desk to think about that one, he ran down the list with her.
“Alright, well you are the ship, you were commissioned ceremoniously, so you’re an officer. You don’t run any divisions or workshops, not in charge of a field, yet, control them..,” he put some effort in his thoughts, now, “uh, so you could be right next to the XO. Influential but not overriding her. For now you’re next to the XO. I’ll shoot that question higher up, big Navy might want to answer that. Anything else, Fuso?”
“Yes, so if I wanted to move someone from their berthing to somewhere else could I?”
“Well what’s the reason? If it’s because there’s a problem with them being there we can do that, is there a problem among them?”
“No, sir, more the opposite. I want to move someone to one of my private rooms.” The captain thought about what this meant.
“So, this is because of a relationship, then?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And they are in berthing, not a stateroom?”
“Yes, sir.”
“So they’re enlisted?” She didn’t seem to know what that meant. “Enlisted as in they aren’t an officer?” She quickly jumped over to Walter.
“Mitsuna Hito, are you an officer?”
“What? Uh, no.”
“Thanks.” She went back to the captain. “No, sir, he’s not enlisted.” The commanding officer groaned with frustration.
“So I wouldn’t have an issue with it if his chain were fine with it, and if it wouldn’t negatively affect his performance. I know you can’t really go out to town and find anyone, so I won’t stop it, but there’s strong policy against fraternization. Basically officers can’t have an intimate relationship with any enlisted, unless it is prior service or commission. Say, if you were enlisted, then became and officer, as long as you both were recognized officially as a couple than it’d be fine, but you’ve been commissioned longer than he’s been alive.” He thought about how creepy that age gap was, left a sour taste in his mouth. “Realistically, it happens and it’s not as enforced as long as the two are not in the same command, which for you is unavoidable, that would probably ruin your love life if it was enforced on you.” He thought long about it, Fuso was sweating right now, she was hoping that her interest wouldn’t be cut off. “Alright well I’m hesitant about it. I’m going to ask the admiral about it, you go ahead and shoot it up his command, to see if they would speak out about it. If his divo or chief isn’t happy with it, then it technically ends there before I can even hear about it. Nothing I can do there.”
“But sir, you’re the captain, he’s under your orders.”
“Yes, they are, but unless I’m informed about it and it needs to be done or is something of issue, it doesn’t really concern me.” He got up to leave but closed to door before he left for one last comment. “But say if you can’t move his rack there I don’t think anyone would mind if he, say, slipped away for an hour or two on the downtime.”
“Thank you, sir!” She left him to go do his business. She snapped back over to Walter and asked him who his chain of command were and where she could find them. He answered one at a time and once Fuso had tracked them down and gotten through the initial contact she proposed the question. Overwhelmingly the chain agreed that it either didn’t matter to them as long as he showed up to work, and his Chief said he’d like it a lot if he knew where to find Walter at any time. The Chief asked if he could ask Fuso where he was at anytime, she agreed readily. She conveyed her excitement to Walter and also warned him of her apprehension, if the Captain didn’t get a good word back then he couldn’t move.
In the meantime, however, he proved to her why the Chief regarded him so well, he worked hard on his gear, the CIWS, affectionately known as Sea-Whiz, but laughably known as ‘The Bastard Son of R2-D2 and an A-10 Warthog.’ Walter regularly says that he has anger-management issues and daddy problems. Another name she’s heard is R2 with a hard on. But being the Bastard Son entertains her more.
The Captain did eventually get a report back saying that it was fine for Walter to be moved and it solidified where ships like Fuso are on the totem pole Essentially she acts like a chaplain, she is a knowledge pool that can be referenced by anyone who needs it, and can speak to any crewman, officer or enlisted, in confidence. One note also instructed that affairs, even intimate, between ship and crewman are not frowned upon and encouraged. Big Navy understood that her choices of flings or spouses are pretty limited, and agree that she should be free to engage in an intimate relationship with whomever as long as they can operate in a professional manner at any given time. Fuso assured the Captain that she can abide by the rules and pleaded that the Captain move him to the room. He was fine with it, but the last person that needed to give her the go-ahead was the Executive Officer, and he wanted to inspect and investigate first.
“This is the room?” The XO had just opened the compartment door and was surprised at how small the room was. Fuso had to tell him why it was special, why she wanted it to move Walter there, and where it was. She did not tell him anything else about it. “This isn’t a room, this is a big closet.” He stepped into the room and with one glance left and right saw everything in the room. The room was barely long enough for the built in bed frame on top of two lockers on his left, at six-foot-three the man’s hair was grazing the overhead, and on the right was a shallow closet-style locker. The room was painted, surprisingly, but it was a drab and dreary grey. There was a red light and a white light in a fixture above the bed, and that was really just about it. There weren’t any pipes in the compartment that weren’t for Fuso’s use but with a compartment so small really only that could fit-and barely. The XO finished his tour of the space rather quickly, and for the rest of the time he allotted he talked to Walter, and told him what he wanted to see every morning during inspections. He understood what the room was for and knew what would probably happen to the white sheets, so he said to Walter to double up on the linen and to change it to a clean set every morning. Walter abides by what the XO said to the letter and moved all his personal items to the room. Fuso was very excited.
The room was on deck one, that’s one ladder down from the main deck, the weatherdeck, and was right next to the conning tower. His room did not have an adjacent head like most other berthings so he had to navigate his way back into his old berthing, which his division was responsible for and still had to clean daily, to shower. If he wanted to relieve himself he could go up a few decks to another head where it was just a toiletry. He made everything up nice and tidy and got all his things placed as instructed and relaxed. The workday had ended and his maintenance was done, he’d been released on liberty, and decided to break in the mattress and talk more to Fuso. She talked about how excited she was that they had a little room to be alone together in, but her excitement worried Walter, they had grown pretty fond of each other as friends, but he had to break some news to her.
“Fuso, I can’t remember if I told you or not, but we only sign up for four or six years, I signed up for six.”
“So? That’s how it was in my day.”
“I’m hitting four right now.”
“Oh.” She realised what he was getting at. “Well you can enlist again, right?”
“Yeah, but.., I was only put here, aboard you, for two years. We’re just here to make sure the guns systems from America work right. Then we go back to America. Not only that, but if I re-up, I’ll be going to another ship. More likely a shore command.” Fuso’s excitement was crushed. “You’re really fun to hang out with, I’d love to stay, but my whole family is in America, and I’d like to at least have my wife there.” When he said he wanted his wife in America it warmed her heart and shriveled it up, he had thought about staying with her in a real relationship, but knew it couldn’t be.
“Oh.” She was real sad, now.
“Hey, hey, gimmie a hand here.” She reached down and he held it in his, “I’ve still got two years here! We can still do things, maybe it’ll help us for nabbing something better. Get us into the market again. Just don’t let things go too far. Sound good? Besides, you’ll always have me if you can take eave to America, and I’ll have you here if I get stationed here for shore duty, or just to visit.” She felt a little better as he caressed her hand.
“Two years is a while.” She began to get excited again, might as well start things off quick if it won’t be too long lasting. “You wanna really break in the bed?” He thought about it as more arms and hands came down to massage his body and try seducing him.
“Well, not yet, Fuso. I still want to get to know you more before anything happens. I want you to get a really great vibe out of it. You will not be sorry, babe.” Babe? He just say babe? She was real excited about that, she nearly forgot about the whole talk that just happened because he said babe. He got up, got dressed while she slipped some looks at his nether regions to excite her sex. He was generally pale, fair skinned, and had thick auburn hair. He dressed in civies and said he was going out to town. He left and about two hours later he returned with a backpack full of goodies. There were some non-perishables, paper and pens, and some electronics. Walter was very excited, he pulled out all the electronics and started setting it up, a lot of stuff was from the mail. She watched him set everything up in a frenzy and she couldn’t help but feel so lost about what she was looking at. Once it was all set up he asked her for her coupling tendril, she shifted her vaginal tendril but he stopped her, so she brought down her second thickest tendril. This tendril contained various probes that were used to link her conciousness with his, or anyone elses, and he held it tightly and told her that what he was about to do may be uncomfortalbe. He linked alligator clips with lables on the cables attatched to probes on her tendril, and it was a pinching pain at first, but once they were all on he turned on a black box and the pain was gone, she was entranced in a whole new feeling.
“Now Fuso, what you are going to feel is very, very alien. You are being connected to the internet, through this game console, and it is going to be very weird and you will eventually be able to control it all yourself, but right now let me do it all.”
“Oh-okay….” She let him turn on a display and a hand held remote and watched as things came up into her mind and sight. It was like an out of body experience, she saw a menu and movies in little squares here and there, in a background was a little blue woman glowing and standing on a pillar while a giant machine man in green and orange reached out to her. There was a square in front of it that had a title on it and that must have been selected because it looked like it had been pushed and a tone sounded as the screen blacked out. “So that was the game menu, Fuso, I could do a lot from there but I’m picking this game to play.”
“Why?”
“Remember when you asked why I’m so dense? Well you’re about to meet mom. She did it to me.”
“She’s in a game?!” Fuso was mind blown.
“No, she plays this game, I got her to play it. She likes it, ironically, she’s awesome playing as infantry, but as a vehicle she can’t do anything. She sucks with tanks and trucks.” Fuso didn’t understand. “She can play with us basically like how two people can talk on a phone, and it’s called the internet. It allows many people to join together from all over the world.” He went on explaining more about it as the loading screen and cinematic played through her mind in that trippy fashion. Once everything was loaded the menu displayed and he explained to her how to use the menu while hooked up to it. “So you see that option, Server Browser?”
“Yes.”
“I want you to reach for it, like you want it, just want it and go for it, will for it.” She did, she wanted it, she willed for it, and it selected. She was amazed at it.
“You do something?”
“Nope.” She wanted to see him and she saw him through the camera she had in the room, his remote was in his lap as the sat on the bed, arms crossed just watching his display. Her mind went back to the game. “Now do the same for favorites.” She did and again her will brought it to her, she was starting to like this. He had her go through the options and told her to go for the option labled ‘Hellbroom4_METRO_24/7’ and congratulated her on getting into her first server all by herself. She felt proud and blushed. In another menu she was given four options and she chose the one labeled ‘ASSAULT’ and suddenly she was in a tunnel flooded a few inches with rubble and shoring all over it. She heard strapping sounds and suddenly human arms pulled up a gun with a scope on it. She freaked out.
“GAH! What’s happening!?” She heard more strapping sounds behind her and another human walked out in front of her and looked at her. It looked like some of the soldiers that were guarding her during her rebuild.
“Hey, Fuso! It’s alright.”
“Is that you?!”
“Yeah.” She was looking at the top of his helmet as he walked into her, his long gun disappeared at his side and a pistol came up with his arms. You’re an avatar right now, a human avatar.
“What does that mean?”
“Well you aren’t you in the game, you’re a person. That flickering line in the bottom right of your vision is your health.” She confirmed as she glanced in the direction. He proceeded to tell her what all the UI and HUD elements were on her ‘screen’ and what they meant to her. Next he explained to her that unlike him she could somewhat feel what her body was doing, and as he worked her through her new digital body she began to look around, move around, and interact with the game. She felt her actual body ghosting around her, it felt similar to wearing a Halloween costume and toting it around everywhere. For a short time it made Fuso’s mind ache and uneasy, but the longer she messed around with her digital form the better she felt. They messed around for about thirty minutes and Walter was now teaching Fuso how to aim and use her gun, she was really not a fan of direct lines of fire, she had never ever done that and pointing the gun right at the target was alien to her. When she was working on her shot group she heard more strapping behind her and felt the presence of another person.
“What? Who is that?!” She was uncomfortable and was nervous, and felt like she was going to be shot.
“Fuso this is Mom, Mom, my ship, Fuso.” There was brief interaction between them, they exchanged names and some of their history, forming a relationship between them. The three of them talked and Marion, Mom, gave some tips to Fuso about how to use her avatar, it had been done to her before. Fuso asked if she was using it now, but not, Marion was using a set up like Walter. About this time Walter got up to go eat chow, leaving Marion and Fuso in the game together,
“So how has he been?” Marion asked.
“He’s fine. He does his job well.”
“It’s just us here, how’s he really been?” Oh.
“I’ve been trying really hard to get him but I haven’t gotten anything! It’s frustrating, I didn’t think it’d be this hard to get laid.” Marion was giggling a little bit.
“He is reserved, real reserved.”
“Like shit, just stick it in, please!” Fuso seized up, was she really talking about this with his mother? “Why do you ask? Isn’t it, isn’t it just disturbing to ask that? About your kid?”
“Well he’s not actually my kid.” What?
“What do you mean by that? Explain.”
“I didn’t give birth to him, I was, god-mothered into it, so to say. I still mother him but it’s more adult guidance than anything. He was already pretty grown by the time we took him in.”
“So why is he so dense? Why is he changed?”
“So about that, he loves to play a game called airsoft, basically they run around with toy guns and shoot each other with small plastic balls; they don’t hurt much it’s just a sting, anyways he was playing airsoft one day and my husband went to go talk to him about something, I think it was about the car, and they’re standing out on the field and they see a massive deer out against the treeline.I was coming out to look at my garden and I saw them there. The deer bolts off suddenly and he collapses, folds up with a massive cloud of blood spurting from his outfit. A poacher had missed the deer and hit him just below the sternum. What happens next is a blur, I know that I was right next to him and changing him to try to save him, it’s all I thought about doing, instinct, while my husband was trying to tend to his shot wound. I have been through a lot in my time serving, but that was one of the scariest moments of my life.” Fuso didn’t know what to say, she was stunned, shocked. “Unlike my husband he didn’t scream in pain when I converted him, he was already gone.”
“So, how’s he here?”
“He had died but we revived him, one of his friends used my battery to jump start him. It’s a miracle he’s alive. He still has a bullet in his body somewhere and that scar on his chest.”
“God damn.” She was silent, she wondered about Yamato, she died, she thought about what would happen to herself if she had died. Would she have been raised? Or just forgotten to time?
“So is he just not into you or something? What’s the deal?”
“He’s into me, he says he wants to do it right for me, but I don’t care. I just want it bad.” They moved on to talking about their wants and what it does to their sexual parts but cut it off when Walter came back. A game had started by then and it wasn’t just sitting in the server waiting for more players like it was earlier. Fuso went through an embarrassing baptism by game gunfire where she was a horrible noob.

 

So this is a tease of what’s to come soon. Well I’ve been jumping around with what I’ve been writing but I decided on this. I won’t be finishing this on a separate thread I’ll just be updating this one like what Ratbat does, I hope I don’t take too long to finish it up so I don’t keep yall waiting long and you’d get some stuff to look forward to more often. I’m debating whether or not to do this with other story entries or if this will just lead to you guys seeing how many stories I start and never get to finishing. (It’s a lot btw) This is kinda like how Ratbat will post the various forms of a page up, like the outlines then dialogue then fill it all in. I guess it honestly makes more sense in picture storytelling than writing but I’ll have a go. If you’d rather see the whole entry at once let me know and I’ll go back to that.

16JAN18:

So I’m not sure if anyone comes back to this or if they remember it, I don’t know a way to view how many people visit or have seen posts so I’ll probably just finish this off then repost it when I’m done for y’all to read and so this one is still technically complete.

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HaM 52 (FINALLY)

IT’S FINALLY DONE! I finally sat down and just forced it out. It flowed a little easier once I stopped trying for nitty-gritty details and just focused more on the emotional side. Easier, not easy. I hope I got the emotional strengths across while still emphasizing how hard they fucked, but it does seem a little short. Nevertheless, I’m sure that more inserts of HaM will come more often with more content as well as more side stories. I have a few in the works but maybe I’ll update some of the others like Titanic, Bismarck, Nagato, Yamato (well actually she’s kinda locked out right now), or a few others. Regardless please enjoy this long overdue insert of Hansel and Marion.

HaM 52

Their kissing and grabbing intensified as they moved towards the bedroom, suppressed feelings and emotions finally being released drove them into a frenzy, they started tugging and pulling on clothes trying to undress. The quiet house had very quickly come to life in a matter of moments and words. As soon as some article of clothing was off of Hansel it left her grasp, whether it fell or she flung it away it was gone. The taste of Hansel was all she tasted now, nothing else, just his hot fucking flesh! Oh everything about him was turning her on, his muscles, his hair, his eyes! Oh and his height, his hands, his tongue, and his mouth! Oh yes what wonders his mouth does to her, it’s so seductive!  Her body shook and quivered with anticipation of his doings, his naughty pleasures, and it could barely keep moving towards the bedroom when she thought of his cock, his massive cock! How deeply he pricked and toyed her, the length, girth, and height made her drool start drooling, oh she knew she was leaving a mess in her wake but she didn’t care, she was gonna get dick’d down tonight!

Marion’s arms enveloped Hansel and stroked and rubbed and held him all over, her body was warmer than usual and her body was slicker than before. Her tendrils combing through his hair and her arms around him excited him and her intensity ramped up his drive. Her seductive strokes of his body and sex promoted he do the same where he could and her suggestive actions stirred his mind with dirty ideas. All the things she did to him made him ache and long for it physically, her hands on his cock moving up and down his length made his balls sore but she’d always sooth them with a massage, her obsession with his testes is always welcome and relaxing. But when she sucks on his cock his spine shivers and slackens, whenever he watches her work him over with those luscious and beautiful lips he wants more and the gleaming razor teeth excite his adrenaline and made him hyper aware. Her pussy is the cream of the crop, though, her vagina is magical, it does everything her other tools do, but better! It’s bleeding warmth, it’s plush and holding walls, it’s slick and tasty juice, it’s gentle suction, and to top it off it’s addicting to eat! The most addicting thing Hansel’s ever dealt with, he swears that there’s drugs embedded into her glands, he’s told her multiple times. It’s so good, so magical, that when they have sex all Hansel’s problems are gone, whether it be a cold, stress, worry, anxiety, anger, it was all gone because of sex. They’re left giddy, carefree, and very passionate. He couldn’t wait to be passionately carefree with her vagina. Once they got into their bedroom Hansel’s turn-ons were amplified, her engine purr reverberated inside his chest and her very skin’s touch electrified him. The smell of fuel and the ambient taste of gunpowder stimulated him. Her eyes, her spectacular eyes captivated his gaze and made him want to please them. Her mouth was attractive and captivating, but by far her best feature to look at was her body as a whole, her shapely figure of various angles mixed with a variety of curves just dumbfounded Hansel. And as the temperature rose in the room the extra items came off. Her quick strip left Hansel in a frenzy, not only did the skirts come off revealing that sexy sharp cut for the treads but her extra treads on her cheeks came off, revealing her very blushed cheeks. Hansel’s hands instantly gravitated there holding himself to her while they smooched and sweated. Next he heard pins come out, and she slid her actual treads off and slung them into a corner. Everything was coming off. Hansel has never seen her so bare and nude as the grate covers for her intakes popped out, her towing cables, toolboxes, axes, shovels, jacks, clamps, and even the towing eyes were tossed away. Hansel felt he couldn’t get hard enough no matter how much he flexed his cock full.

There was a break in the kissing where Marion asked in an excited tone “Are we doing it? All the way?” She looked all over his face but would lock at his eyes for a moment.

“Yes, yes we’re doing it!” He looked all over her face and body, she had an absolutely gigantic smile and her eyes gleamed with joy. Her strokes on his cock hastened as she was getting ready to slide him under her. “No, no, I want to see you for it.” She nodded and opened the assistant driver’s hatch. Hansel climbed in and found her vaginal tendril she snaked up over the back of the seat. He looked into it, it seemed more swollen and throbbing with a puddle of her lube forming at the vulva slit and running down the tendril. He put one kiss on it and felt the reverberations all around him and placed his cock head right at the part and stroked up and down, really getting her to vibrate and shake like an engine. His head quickly was covered in her slick love and his knees trembled with the amazing feeling of rubbing their genitals together. Once it had gotten where he could barely stand and she was gushing out fluids with every pass he backed off and they locked eye contact. They nodded to each other and agreed to do it under their breaths.

Hansel pushes in up to his crotch, Marion flinched and her gaze darted off behind Hansel as she suddenly felt all his length, girth, and heat. His cock was massive, it pushed her insides around and made her feel amazing. All his teasing and stroking had made her suspension tremble and her engine sputter, her gun coil back and her body shudder. She felt the alcohol in their system buzz them and excite them, and their heightened senses and hyperactive hormones elevated all senses of pleasure. He was looking at her questioningly and she looked back at him, panting heavily.

“Marion, baby, do you want this?” She was extremely excited, her hormones and desires and mind was haywire, she couldn’t think straight. She nodded and rapidly agreed yes she wanted it. Therefore she sunk her cervix around his cock, breaking it through and they let the massive amount or dopamine swamp them into a heavenly world of ecstasy. They braced on each other and shook, they recoiled from their actions and enveloped each other with their love and lust. The most powerful connection they’ve ever had gripped them and kept their lust strong and their hearts passionate. Her eyes sparkled through her squinting eyelids with a beauty Hansel admired like it was godly. And his glistening body lured her to adore him religiously. Neither of them could recall ever feeling so strongly about the other, all of their previous spikes of love, compassion, camaraderie, and desire all formed together in this moment here. It seemed like forever they were making love, truly making love, and neither wanted to stop. Continuous bouts of encouragement and praise spurred each other on, and their own pounding wants pushed them to ensure their partner was in as much pleasure as possible. Hansel groped her clit or a feeding tendril while Marion fondled his balls or combed through his thick golden hair. All the while they’d move in for a long kiss, heavy breaths heating the whole house by now, and their genitals starting to sore. Grey veins were popping, fuel tanks drying, muscles throbbing, engines cranking, skin drying and grease steaming. Both were sweating profusely, Hansel never knew that she could even sweat, while Marion gawked at how much she had physically changed him, his skin was entirely a flushed grey-red with all this frenzy. She watched his face start to shrivel up and clench as he came closer to it, her heart raced and her ‘legs’ trembled in anticipation. His thrust slowed and became more forced when suddenly he slammed his body against the tendril and it happened. She gripped his hair and wrapped all over him, staring into his magnificent eyes as she felt these monstrously huge shots penetrate deep into her. They felt so deep inside her that her core itself felt the stick of his seed. One shot, two shots, three, four, a fifth, each shot also showed on his face as he stared back at her. He watched as her expression was of sexual pleasure and exertion to bewildered enlightenment, pure joy. He gave it his all and pushed even deeper for the last shot to go, he forced with all his remaining strength and sent it even deeper. To Marion she thought he was as deep as he could go, but she was wrong. The last shot blew out her core and replaced it, her core didn’t feel like her anymore, she felt him. She quivered and shook and giggled with elation, this was by far the best moment she’s had with Hansel. The whole world was just them. Hansel sort of slumped over, being held up by weak arms, and was regaining strength for her turn. She had planned this as the end, thought that the argument was over, and was letting him relax. Hansel wasn’t done with her, she wasn’t done in his eyes. He was regaining strength so she wouldn’t miss this opportunity to come, too. Slowly his thumb began circling the raw bulbous metal-flesh that was her clit. “Hansel, we’re done. Rest now.”

“No,” he said with a sigh, “you didn’t finish.”

“Hansel please!” Her expression turned to worry. He knew why she was worried, but thought it was a silly reason. Her only argument why she shouldn’t cum.

“No, you give this to me, you make me the man I want to be for you. You let me do this.” He slowly eased out to his head while pinning her tendril down.

“Hansel it’s in!”

“I’ll keep it there.” He pushed back in, this time angling himself for the spot. He hit a different textured spot of flesh that made her whimper and bite her lip. She looked worried, pleading, and scared, but Hansel was going to show her how silly she was. Show her what kind of man a woman like her deserves.

“No Hansel, please don’t, I’m scared-mmmpff!” He kidded her gun as he struck her spot again. He  pushed in and out as fast as he could. His body started to hurt but he ignored it, her whimpers gave away how much she was enjoying it even if she tried to make it sound painful. Her g-spot getting the good dick mixed with the fact it felt like her innards were nothing but Hansel jizz made her really struggle to stay up or hold back from orgasm. He kept getting faster and her whimpers and engine got louder, her eyes darted to and fro, her turret jostling on the bearings and the gun spasming out. Hansel’s body was screaming with pain, his knees had been shaking and buckled long ago, only holding himself up with his arms and her jittery arms. Her body just locked up after a while, no movements at all. He kept going, ignoring the pain and hammering that g-spot. His vision was starting to fade when suddenly her eyes rolled back and her entire entity shook and thrashed about. She came and sprayed herself like a fire hydrant. She came and sprayed for two minutes easy. Piercing moans and whimpers shook the home and probably bled into the night sky. She sprayed so much it drenched Hansel head to toe, splashed all over her cabin, soaked the seats, soaked his hair, splashed up his body, off his chest, into her huge gaping mouth And onto her gun and face and deck. The whole time still thrashing like she was possessed by demons. Everything stopped and calmed when Hansel felt a sudden drop coupled with a huge crashing and grinding noise. Amidst the unhealthy sounding engine noises was her muffled whimpering, deep hot heavy breathing, extreme vent action on her stern, and cooling engine noises-absolutely everywhere, and some ringing in Hansel’s ear. He collapsed with her and slumped on her deck in a pool of their drool and her lovely tasting cum. She blinked very slowly and suddenly her eyes were back, staring down into his.

“I love you.”

That’s all they said for the longest time. They ensued in holding hands and rubbing their thumbs over each other’s lovingly. Then they broke silence again.

“Is it still there? Marion?” She took a deep breath.

“Yes, baby. It’s still in there. All of it.”

“I told you it was silly.”

“I guess it was. I was just really scared I’d cum it all out, baby.”

“We’ve had sex dozens of times and it never came out, honey. Why would this be different?”

“I guess you were right, Hansel, baby.”

“You were just being silly, honey.”

“This is the first time we’ve had sex in what? Five years? It was amazing, better than ever. You really are the man.” They closed their eyes to sleep in this hot mess they made. Right before they passed out Hansel grabbed her chin and drug his head close to her body, so close his nose was buried under the turret and he whispered to her:

“You are the most beautiful thing in the whole wide world.”

Marion was finally pregnant.

Fin 52

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