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.
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.


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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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.
“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.”
“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.”
“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.”
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.”
“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.
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 Chowder. 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 Chowder 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?”
“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.
“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.” Chowder 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 Chowder 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.
“Chowder I need to know something, this is serious to me.”
“Oh shit, what?”
“Are we actually doing 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.”
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 Chowder 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 Chowder.
“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 buisiness. She snapped back over to Chowder 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 Chowder at any time. The Chief asked if he could ask Fuso where he was at anytime, she agreed readily. She conveyed her excitement to Chowder and also warned him of her aprehension, 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.’ Chowder 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.


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.


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.

Filed under Gingyflame, Stories · Tagged with , , ,


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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Distressed IV

Distressed IV
Jonny stood there gawking at her with his hand on his dick. He had read into the genitalia but he had never been able to imagine what it looked like, and now he didn’t have to try. Her bow was low and her ass was up, she was gently swaying it left and right seductively, the whole time his gaze was locked on the glistening silver vulva that was between her transmission bulges. Her turret was over the side and she was seductively gazing at him and licking lips. After a moment of locking eyes a hand beckoned him forward to her. He stuttered for a moment before he turned to her and moved forward. She nodded in approval and smiled at him with a wide, human like grin. “That’s right soldier boy, come get sum!”
He grinned back and as he got closer they got more and more excited, their bodies warmed up to the idea and started putting in the effort to get it on. Jonny got up close to and against her side and grabbed at her side plates, she grabbed his shirt and pants and they both giggled in a naughty fashion and they began stripping each other. She began with him and they slowly took off each piece of clothing to dramatize the moment. First his hat, then his shirt, and his shoes, and his socks, and his belt, and his pants, and finally his underwear. Once the underwear gave away and let go of his cock it shot up and bounced around taunting her as she stared at it. Watching a slob of drool slowly roll out of her mouth made Johnny feel like a man! “Now,” she said lapping up her drool and imaginary cock, “now undress me, mister.”
At first he didn’t know what to do, but her mud covers and spaced armor looked separated more than normal, and with a tug of what he wanted off it was off, she popped it off, and tossed it aside. Looking back to him from her tasks to see his excitement grow and grow. One by one, the various pieces came off. She counted down the parts taunting him, exaggerating numbers and pausing with the armor dangling from her hand like it was lingerie.
“.., Six..,” They had one side’s extra pieces off, the exposed treads and return rollers, and and the torsion bars, and the angled portion of her lower hull, it all made Johnny feel like a breeding bull, he had to pump her full! He moved more towards her port but she stopped him with a finger on his chin. “Ah, ah, ah! There’s still my left side, big man!” He lurched over and pulled on two at once, trying to rip them off with his bare hands. He was not strong enough to do it, but his intensity fueled Tankovy’s passion, she really REALLY wanted him, she wanted him deep and her vagina was telling her exactly how she wanted it.
“Five and four.., a little excited now?”
“Twwoo.., ..,”
“ONE!” The last piece she flung into the air without a second thought, she felt hot, and she was hot! She felt sexy, loved, the way he was rubbing his body against hers made her feel desired, attractive, horny… Johnny finally slid across her body down to her ass end, her extra fuel tanks had been jettisoned so she could see him but she had moved a Jerry can in the way of her prize, her underwear for him to rip off. And that he did.
“Ah-h-ah! OoooooOOOOOhhh…, I LOVED that, John! Give it to me, baby!!” He had ripped it off like a band aid, pulling out her clit and foreskin from the vulva to display it to him, his cock throbbed so much he had to stroke it, but she didn’t let him. She wrapped a tendril around the base and a hand around his mighty meat. Every throb and every pulse made her squirt a tiny bit, she so desperately longed for what was deep inside his cock and his two delicious testicles she so passionately fondled.
As he gazed down upon her loving and working his aching cock and balls with hands he looked at the thing he wanted from her, that mystical pussy she was swaying for him. Oh it looked like it had gotten shinier and more plump, but it didn’t look wet enough. He reached down and stroked it, probed it, poked and teased it. Sifting the clit like one sprinkles salt from their fingers, her mighty engine roared and she nearly fell back onto him as he did this to her. Her gorgeous eyes rolled straight up and she gritted her teeth and grunted and moaned as he touched her. She started passionately humping his hand and could only think about how fucked she was going to be.(It was very, VERY fucked!)
His hand toyed with her vulva and clit long enough to where she oozed her juice, and once she was hot and wet he finally removed his hand for her slit. It was covered in a coat of juice and thick strands clung to his hand as it drifted away. Tankovy took in deep breaths, she wasn’t sure how much more teasing she could take. She was cranking her turret around to her stern end when Jonny’s curiosity got the best of him and the teasing continued. He ducked down into her slit and lapped at her edges, feeling with his tongue and lips just how soft, and plush, and hot she really was. The mix of his lips and tongue and his scraggly beard came together and stimulated her pussy like never before, making it hard for her to keep turning up the incline she was doing for him. Once he committed to going the full length and really eating her he pressed his mouth against her puss and drove his tongue deep into her parting, welcoming folds. She moaned loud enough to match her engine’s mighty roar as her turret lost all grip and the gun drug her facing forward again. There she moaned and whined and shivered in excitement and ecstasy. Her engine purred and stuttered and roared with her. She had grabbed the back of his head and hair in a half-fist and half-clamp and kept his face pressured against her dripping wonderment. Jonny breathed in through his nose, smelling her raw body and how appealing her sex really was, it wasn’t human body funk he and the other guys got on deployment, wasn’t lovely perfume or soap that women used, it was her and nothing else, and the smell of her steel, juice, some exhaust, and his saliva really churned up his horniness. Her taste was even better, that iron-blood taste that coins and his tags had danced and swept across his tongue, her juice stuck just right to be enjoyable yet was slick enough to be usable-he really like his odds of enjoying her sex. She felt herself rising to the occasion but no, she needed to be fucked, not eaten, or toyed, or masturbated to her orgasm. She was gonna get it from his dick. She ripped him out and breathing very heavily she demanded he fuck her right and proper.
“Oh I will, I will. But-“ he wiped the juice from his lips and beard.
“But what!?”
“But you’ve gotta put these tanks back on.” He tugged at the mounts for her external fuel tanks right on her ass. She took them off to see him, but she couldn’t get her gun up the incline so it didn’t matter anymore.
“I liked the way they shook.”
“Alright then,” she hastily threw them back onto her mounts and strapped them in, “but you better shake them off soldier!”
Count on it!” He grabbed his shaft and quickly got into place, he grabbed onto her engine deck with his left hand and stroked his cock up and down against her split vulva and exposed pussy when she begged for no more teasing. “It wasn’t a tease.”
He rocketed into her, the sudden penetration seized up her engine and made her lock up and groan almost painfully. She instantly rolled her eyes back and grabbed onto his ass and hips, holding him inside her while the shock wore off. Soon enough she had recovered and Jonny was doing his thing. He drew slowly and drove quickly, this made Tankovy rock forward and lean back, shaking those magical fuel tanks. She was speaking in fast Russian praising what Jonny was doing to her. But it was too good for Jonny, he hadn’t used himself like this in a long time and just as the saying goes, he didn’t use it so he lost it. All of a sudden it hit him like a sledgehammer and he jolted his hips up against her hull and shot his thick, full, heavy load deep into her pussy. He groaned and moaned in pleasure as the biggest orgasm he’d ever had rocked his body and made him weak, he felt his cock pump, then pump again, and again, another time, then he flexed some more, again, and he did this until he was soft. He was so embarrassed, he lasted what? A minute? If that. He felt so extremely embarrassed. He had talked up all that game and he dropped the ball. “Fuck! I let you down, didn’t I?” Tankovy giggled.
“Get up here, John, I can fix this.” He marched up with his heads slumped in their defeat. She wrapped around his body and whisked him into then air, quickly his mind thought he was gonna die but she slung him into the drivers cupola where she could lick and suck on him. Here he noticed how small of a mouth she had compared to her body, her mouth was no bigger than his own mouth. She lapped on his cock and balls, licking from the bottom of the sack up to the tip of his head. While he was still soft her work ground his gears and he was quite weak with his body’s reactions, she was in total control of him then. Once his meat was licked clean of her pussy’s juice and his semen and had swollen enough to be a chub she put him into her mouth and sucked on him. He slumped over her turret and hugged her gun by his side, drooling onto her armor. She, too, was enjoying this, her eyes were closed and she was just using all her mind to focus on her mouth. More specifically his outlandish fleshy taste, the feel of his throb, the growing size take up more and more room. Once he was fully grown he started really leaking jizz, she sucked him like a straw and the cum in her ass and the cum on her tongue made her vibrate with ecstasy, that alone made her come to the brink of orgasming. She lapped and sucked and manipulated his cock for maybe ten minutes when he finally busted in her mouth. She gleefully sloshed it all over her mouth, getting his seed everywhere to tickle her fancy. He pulled out still rock hard and ready for more.
“You’re magical, Tankovy!” She licked her lips and met his gaze, they sat breathing heavily for a moment before she piped up.
“Get back there, already!” He hopped out and jogged back to her oozing pussy. His cum was dripping out in glops from the creampie they’d made, he sort of admired his work and felt a little pride in what he had done to her. “What? Too messy for you?
“Me? Fuuuck no!” He shoved it into her again, just like the first time and they both huddled against each other from the shock, and once the initial shock was over they proceeded just like the first time. Only this time it felt much MUCH better for both of them, his cock ground his previous visit’s gift deeper into her vagina and made her feel even more enjoyment from this while he could relax and feel her twitching around him, feel her vagina’s skin and metallic flesh grip him and rub him right, she was tighter and wetter, his cum acted as more lube and occasionally her whole body and pussy would vibrate and he’d sit inside her just mesmerized by how awesome that was. He would pick up the speed and listed to her romantic Russian language fly from her mouth and watch her fuel tanks bounce up and down, back and forth, the best ass he’s seen. He watched himself slide in and out, in and out, in and out, and it was awesome. He just kept going! On and on! Tankovy was getting closer and closer and closer to her limit, she had been holding it off for a long time but she really wanted to get rocked by this orgasm. She wanted a crippling fuck out of him, one where she’d be feeling this for the rest of the week. So far she’s been getting exactly that and then some. But she expected to be sore after the sex, but her body had begun aching during the sex, this made her worry if she could last as long as him. She didn’t have much to worry about as Jonny soon announced he was close to cumming again. She felt his huge throbbing cock, dashing in and out of her, shiver and quake as his thrusts slowed and his draws pained. Suddenly he was completely against her armor and huge loads were shot even deeper than before into her.
“YES! YES! YES! YES!” She cried out. “MORE CUM! DEEPER BABY DEEPER!” Her arms wrapped around him and held him to her body as she was filled with him. He pumped less than his first visit into her but it went deeper and made her even more squirmish and pleasuring. Her pussy throbbed around his man meat and gave him quite the encouragement to stay but he had to go. He backed out almost stumbling and falling on his ass but he caught himself on her fuel tank. “Oh Jonny! I want to taste myself, Jonny!” She beckoned him up to her bow again and he soldiered on dog-tired though he was.
Goddamn, how much more you want, woman? Jesus Christ!” He stumbled up to her where she sheepishly pulled him in. He went in for a kiss but an arm held him back.
“Whoa, are you going to make me swallow it?” He was puzzled, swallow what?
“Wait, you didn’t swallow?”
“No,” she said blushing, she was a little embarassed by her little fetish, “I like it in my mouth.” He smiled and giggled a bit and stood up some.
“Ah, I won’t make you swallow!” He bent his aching and cramping back over to plant a smooch right over her gun mantle. He placed his slumped and soggy meat in her face and she gleefully slurped it up into her mouth, tenderizing it and cleaning it off with her mouth. She knew how beat he was, she wrapped him up in her arms and stretched him on her turret face, relaxing his muscles and soothing his cramps, just how she knew he liked it. His taste was exhilarating and addicting. His cock had a coating of his cum mixed, almost diluted, with her slick machine lube and right at the top was the strongest and most potent part of his cum, it was like a twinkle she’d later compare it to, but right now it was like nothing she had ever had and just like Twinkies, was a real treat she wanted more of. She a had huge and unwavering smile born from his delicious cock that pinched and held him better than her own pussy, he enjoyed this a little more because he was getting massaged everywhere, he was resting, he was relaxed, and he had a beautiful woman to pleasure his sex drive without even complaining. He bet that she was enjoying it more than him, and for once the man was right. She never wanted that night to end.
Once his coatings of cum had been slobbered off they separated and laid down for the night to rest. Jonny curled up under a very nice and complete blanket that Tankovy had been keeping around and he had a nice makeshift pillow bridging the driver’s chair and the cupola rim for him to sleep on. Tankovy’s dirty dream to be sore the next few mornings was well secured, she was already sore and really felt his presence as she painfully laid down on her belly. She tossed the tarp used to hide her stolen goods over her gun barrel and roof for a shade in the upcoming morning, though light did burn through neither were woken by it. It was this moment where Jonny knew she was most attached to him he proposed instead of returning to Russia where she knew no lovers to go with him back to America, where she would have him. Deep down she craved to go back to Russia, but her heart and body begged and throbbed to go wherever he goes. Her mind was made to go but just in case something did come up she told him “Possibly, big American soldier,” and let them sleep huddled together under the bright moon-lit night.
When she did wake up she had a mini-orgasm when his taste and tingle was still in her mouth.

Fin Distressed IV

Yay! I finally bullied myself into putting out porn again! Yay! My absolute next goal is to put out the next chapter for HaM, the expected after-party sex scene of hot proportions. But to be frank my desire is to skip over that part and move on with their lives and not write a sex scene because it kinda feels repetitive, *insert painfully bad acting of a thumbs up and forced smile here* yay! But no I’m doing alright, really, but I’ve had a taste of not writing porn and instead writing lore and story and cool stuff and I like that, and I have a whole new schedule that kinda sucks for free time so, only time will tell. And my self motivation to get my lazy ass up and do shit.


But hey! What’s a machine you wouldn’t mind doing the sex with but would rather just be swamped by emotion just being able to see up close? For me it’s the T-55. Hands down. Yeah the Tiger II or Maus may be my favorites but I really do have a soft spot for T-55s and this story for me kind of relates to that. T-72s are not T-55s, but hey, meh. I don’t know when I’ll do something with a T-55, or if I even will at all. Just has a lot of memories for me, and is probably one of the first weird mental imaginary friends that little kids come up with. (Like seriously if Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends was a real thing my friend would be the motha fuckin boss of that shit).When I think back I got my interest with those cold war era Russian tanks from a game called Desert Storm: Iraqi Freedom and Desert Storm: Desert Shield, two games that a kid probably shouldn’t have been playing at that age but hey, I turned out kinda okay? Oh gawd why am I talkin’ ’bout this shit? It’s fucking late, I’m tired. IF I do post this shit I might delete this section I have no clue. IDK, maybe I’ve been too reclusive since I’ve been here, for what? Four years? Three? Fuck. Maybe I’ve been too reclusive and this is like “hey I’m a hooman being, too” or it’s just way outta context and it’s like “dude I’m here for your fap shit, not your deep thought tired-ass having-ass bullshit”. I swear I’m not high. Promise.

Fuck it where’s the post button?

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Distressed III

Distress III
Jonny and the T-72 had become partners quickly, finally having someone to confide in and having nothing else to pass the time they communicated, at first it was details about what diversion they wanted, then it just turned into conversation. Jonny quickly realized that she was a tank, and asked her many questions about things he was curious about. It took a day or so to make a splint for Jonny’s legs and once that was done really they had no objectives to accomplish, they just talked. They told stories of home, of service, and of jokes. Being in military service they had a common dark humor, very dark and twisted humor. They bitched about faulty new gear, rambled on about how nothing in the military really makes sense, and gripe about any other thing a lower enlisted can possibly gripe about. 72 had warmed up to her new comrade and asked to be given hot food again from the terrorists, as they thought the canned food they were giving her she was eating whole, and when it was received she passed it to Jonny, and he admitted that Achmed was right, the Qaeda did have pretty good food. It was after a month of recovery when 72 explained her origin story to him, how she got there.
“I was once a proud Soviet tank, once I was the most formidable beast on the field in the Red Army, but, like all technology, I was replaced. Eventually the crumbling Union decided to start selling Soviet military grade weaponry to our allies and I’ll admit, I was a little scared then. I wasn’t sold then, instead I was sold by Russia, after the American invasion of Iraq, to the Afghanistan army. The level of respect I was given plummeted to a mere awkwardness, but improved over time. One night, one night the base was raided and I was stolen and brought here. At first I was a willing ally to the Al-Qaeda until I noticed that I was treated even worse here, and the things I was made to do was horrible, inexcusable, and overall repulsive.” She mentioned how in the Quran forbids masturbation, but doesn’t mention anything about animal sex, and then she stated how she had sexual advances on her but when she refused them she started a lot of problems and this led to a fallout between her and her ‘allies’ which eventually led to her being raped twice, an untimely and mysterious death of a high ranking terrorist, and that this led to her being thrown into this pit and do nothing but stare out at a mountain. The rape triggered her mission to get out; she had already dealt blows and accomplished many goals before she fetched Jonny, ans they had many more to achieve. That story made Jonny respect her a little more and wish to help her more, but at the same time she’s still an enemy. And as he explained how he felt to her, he recited a good quote he picked up from his favorite game ever.
“The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”
“What’s that mean, John?” She thought Jonny was his whole name so she nicknamed his nickname.
“It means that you and I aren’t on good terms, but we both hate the terrorists more.”
“So we work together like in the Great Patriotic War?”
“I would consider you a friend, one of my closest friends, John.”
“Why’s that?”
“You listen more than anyone has before, we’re funny, mostly I enjoy your company.You appreciate my probably terrible English and deal with it.”
“For being taught during the cold war, and only now using it, it’s pretty good, tankovy.”
“Thank you John, that’s a little uplifting.” Time elapsed as they sat there, doing almost nothing, the boredom was unbearable that day and Jonny asked if he could look out the periscope. She allowed him, and he struggled to contort and move his body to the scope, she helped move his stiff legs. She would relax and move his muscles regularly to keep them healthy and prevent from locking up but even still the lack of use was apparent as he pained to move. But it was all worth it. He spun his little world around, taking in the sunlight, the colors, the ever-familiar smell of shit that is the Middle East-neither knew quite why it ALWAYS smelled like shit-and all the intelligence. So many hidden bombs and weaponry disguised to hide from peering drone eyes! He was breath taken and astonished with how much the goat-fuckers had! Tankovy assured him it wouldn’t be around that long with their plan, but he was still shook, maybe the war wasn’t going to end anytime soon. Well, the last part was known, just that America was trying to ‘leave’ the conflict. While he was looking around he tried to see what tank she was, she said she was a tank, but not the model. He couldn’t get a fix on exactly what she was, but based on her height she’s post T-55.He really wanted to know what she was it was driving him nuts! He could have asked but he refused to let his only mind game end so soon. After all, it was going to be months before he could see much else.
And months it was, about five and a half months elapsed before they broke off the casts and splints. They seriously started planning the attack, she began stirring again, a trend she introduced long ago so nobody would think differently when she’d randomly get up and drive around. Jonny would watch and note the locations of key assets, this affected their plans but they were determined to make this all happen. As the date grew closer Jonny would curl up into a ball to work and stretch his muscles, he’d curl for ten minutes and rest for five, again and again until he could do it effortlessly again. Tankovy had noted that without much to groom himself Jonny’s beard had grown long and full, his hair was a mess and his face dirty. He would blend in well with the right clothes, so she got to fabricating him some garments and robes and a turban for him to wear. It would at least help him blend in more than a destroyed American uniform. She had also began making her own little bombs to use against the Taliban, she had played around with timers and had perfected a time fuse for an hour. It worked every time she tested it, the timer not the bombs. As the sun set on the game day they prepared mentally for the challenge. As the time ticked away until about 2340 local time they reviewed and reviewed and reviewed, practiced and practiced and practiced. There was only one thing left to the wind and that was his strength. They worried that he wouldn’t be able to walk on his weak legs. “You ready John?”
“Show time, I’m ready.” He gathered the bombs and put them in his string bag with the timers set, he really hoped he could trust Tankovy to set them right. She double checked her set ups nearly every day.On her cue he opened the hatch and took a deep breath, and climbed out of the hatch. His body ached, creaked, groaned and stretched. He sat on her hull and readied himself for impact, he jumped off and his legs instantly buckled. He came crashing to the ground in pain and misery, grunting and seething, Tankovy yelped worried and scared. She went to get him and call it off when he struggled up, forcing himself up like a drunk. He staggered to his feet and endured the pain of his shaking legs as he stood there, just happy to be there. He carried on, putting forth his effort to get to his first marker.
First he stopped by a cave entrance covered by a plywood sheet with sand and rocks glued to the wood and that was further camouflaged by brush in front of that. He placed a bomb under the sheet of wood next to a pile of rocks that supported the side. He then shrugged on, hobbling down the way to the I.E.D. pile and put two there, just in case one faulted. Next he moved over to the other side and put one by a few sandbags, that spot had problems with mudslides and they were hoping to trigger one with the bomb. Next was some more explosive equipment set out for quick use, most was tucked away in the caves and she wasn’t going to risk her biggest asset that much. Regardless he went over to the entrance of the cave that they used for ammo and tossed one into the black void, hoping it would reach. That bomb was for the livestock but he untied the gate and their leads. He wasn’t that cruel. Lastly was thier fuel depot, it was a bunch of Jerry cans, oil barrels, and one old septic tank. Even still it was a lot of gas. Tankovy had already grabbed her fuels and clustered all the fuel together for the bomb. He tucked one under a Jerry can and stood up, turned around, and saw a figure off on the other side of the valley. The rest of his body started to quiver. He had no guns, no more bombs, and knew almost no Arabic, hide, stupid!
He panicked and looked around, he wanted to hide under the fuel but how would he get in there? He looked around and thought, cave? He might be going there. Animals? What if he’s going for some goat milk? FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCKITY FUCKITY FUCK! He decided on something but it was too late, he was seen and the figure was approaching. He shook and came up with a ploy, a folly, to try to get the upper hand in a fight. As the figure approached Jonny acted ill and sickly, which he was so it was a rather easy act, and once the man was close enough he acted as if he was falling. The man-who was asking if he was alright-dropped his gun and went to catch Jonny. Jonny raised his fist and threw himself into the man. He landed a punch right in the man’s eye and fell into him, catching himself while the man momentarily held him. Jonny then lashed his head up into the man’s jaw. He gained his footing and stood against the arab. Now the arab was angry and was realizing that this wasn’t an ally, he reeled back and instantly charged in. Jonny’s training kicked in and he stood to throw him down, the terrorist fell right into the setup and almost effortlessly Jonny wrapped him up and twisted him onto his back, straddled him, and chocked him while punching into his temple. The terrorist used a free arm to swipe at Jonny’s arm, dropping Jonny onto him, Jonny came up and tried to choke him again but his hand slipped up and he had his hand over his mouth. The terrorist played dirty, trying to preserve his life, and bit at Jonny’s hand. Jonny growled in anger and pain and kneed the jaw again, this time catching the tongue and severing it. The terrorist screamed and covered his mouth, still screaming and thrashing about. Jonny lunged off, grabbed the gun, and smashed in the terrorist’s head with the butt over and over until he was dead and then some. He stood over the terrorist almost hyperventilating, and looked upon his work. The terrorist’s tongue had indeed been severed as it hung out of what was left of a skull, the eyes popped out and the brains glistened in the moonlight and darkened the blue-lit sand. The blood flowed like wine, and like wine stained all it touch, the sand turned black and shone like oil. Bits of bone and teeth littered like glass and hair was all over the place making it all one sloppy mess. Jonny looked at his hand, it was bleeding vigorously and his thumb was spurting blood like a hose. He instantly grabbed that and held tight, painfully tight, as he very slowly felt everything return to his sense while his adrenaline pumped. He was running with rifle and thumb in hand to Tankovy. He rushed up to her and begged “bandage! Bandage! Please, bandage!” She calmly moved his hand and then rushed to stop the arterial bleeding. She lifted him up into her driver’s hatch and carefully wrapped his palm and fingers. He looked into her eyes, they were a light blue with white impressions. He looked over her turret, it was a low and wide turret with an oblong shape that was tallest on his left, her right, where he would sit. She had a massive lamp on the right side of her gun and a massive machine gun on her roof for the commander. Her turret cheeks had bits and tubes on them for smoke charges he reckoned. He figured out which tank she was. He couldn’t stop himself from saying it. “You have beautiful eyes, Tankovy 72.”
She stopped and thought, then glanced up to his eyes. “Thank you.” She went back to finishing the wrap and Jonny watched her. Once it was wrapped up he climbed into the turret on his own, surprising her. He climbed into the hatch and waited, and she waited, they waited silently. Now it was her half of the plan. At exactly 0040 the bombs detonated. The ground shook and the entire valley illuminated with fire and filled with ash. She kicked her engine to life and it roared to life, amidst the screams, explosions, and rumbling Jonny heard the engine purr and growl, the heavy diesel engine whined and wheezed as it shifted gears, then again hummed as she sped towards the fire and chaos. As her skin grew hotter her adrenaline pumped harder, her hope rose, and her determination strengthened. Jonny watched through the periscopes the damage they caused and it brought delight to him, but it wasn’t enough. He opened the hatch and stood up. Tankovy was shocked. “Wha-What are you doing!?”
“Fuck these bastards!” He grabbed the heavy machine gun and racked the slide. He shifted the gun over to the side and pressed the butterfly trigger, shooting at anything standing at human height. The massive gun tore anything flesh in half, ensuring that it was going to die. All Jonny felt while he cut down the dozens of terrorists down was the rattling in his bones, his arms going numb, and the vibrations of the engine in his legs. He chanted various insults and phases of vengeance as his blood boiled at the thought of letting one of them survive. He gunned all the terrorists that were confused, scared, panicking, and grabbing whatever they could to defend themselves to no avail.
“John! Aim front! Guards!” She automatically turned the gun to the front and pointed at the areas the RPGs usually waited. One instantly stood up to aim at her but a burst from Jonny’s gun hit him in the neck and flung his head into the night sky. The other guard freaked out, panicked, and prematurely launched his rocket into the other side of the mountain. That triggered a rock slide that fell behind them. The man who would give the signal of enemy stood bewildered by the hill, she specifically changed course to hit him, and when she did his body collapsed like a wet noodle against her bow, splitting open his guts and slowly slipped off her bow, being dragged and gutted as he completely fell off her body.
They raced into the dunes and kept going, laughing and celebrating that they got away! Jonny was going home! He was very excited, over joyed and tearing up. Tankovy was free! She could go home! She felt a wall of emotions hit her, she, too, teared up. Once they felt that they were in the clear they stopped and discussed where they were, she pulled out a map and Jonny went back down to her diver’s hatch to help navigate. She could barely pull her gaze off of him, she had no idea how good looking of a man he was until then, she just had the time to think about it. He scanned over and over the map trying to read the Arabic writing, she did steal it from the terrorists. Suddenly he had to piss, he asked to relieve himself.
“Go ahead, John, no more shell case.” He was excited about the freedom she granted him, he climbed out and walked down and a little behind her on the slope and undid his pants, and relieved himself. He moaned out in relaxation, and enjoyed himself. It occured to Tankovy what she really wanted!
“Ah, yeah.” He moaned as the stream eneded.
“Yeah, Tankony?” He asked shaking his dong off.
Don’t bother zipping your fly!” He was about to ask why when he turned to glance at her and knew why.

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Distressed II

Distress II
Jonny Blacked out as soon as he heard a loud crashing noise, his screams of pain and pleas went unnoticed. He didn’t even know what happened, it was all a flash, then a blur, next thing he knew he was on his back, couldn’t move his legs, and was staring at the ceiling of some Afghan house. He tried thrashing about to get unstuck or get up, but all that did was make it hurt more and black out quicker. He passed out just after the black out, and was unconscious. That was when the 72 found him. She scanned over him with her eyes a few times to assess his wounds and determine if he was worth it, and he was. She determined his legs might heal, but weren’t vital to his health. She used manipulators to hold him still while the tendril probes pierced his body as if to transform him to check his bone composition. His right leg was broken in to spots and dislocated, she quickly popped it back into place, and his left leg was troublesome. His left leg was closest to the blast and was broken, shattered, and probably wouldn’t recover. She figured it was really just held together by his skin. While he had many open wounds and was bleeding heavily she cautiously removed his trousers, wrapped his legs in bandages she had collected or stolen, and ensured there was no more bleeding in his lower body. She put his pants back on and moved him carefully onto a bench’s seat, and used it as a stretcher. She searched his body for any tracking equipment, she dropped anything she suspected of tracking him and stole some electronics from his equipment like batteries, plugs, an antenna, anything she thought could be useful as a component. She then placed him on her engine deck and covered him with a blanket after washing off his head to check for wounds-just some scrapes and a massive bruise-and to make sure he didn’t dehydrate or cook to death. She then backed out and went back to camp.
She traveled into the mountains and through a winding path to where there were two men and a herd of goats resting in the shade of the mountain. The two men pulled out a radio and talked into it, she passed the guards. She moved further in and entered the main hub of the camp, caves and tunnels surrounded her, all etched into the mountainside like it were an ant pile. She ventured further, weaving through stocks of I.E.D. material, animals, people, and shit, and reached a pit where she resided, it faced the larger way in, the way laden with mines, I.E.D.s and traps. She was the final obstacle. It was here she moved him to her front and covered him with more blankets, all soaked in collected water to cool him off and clean him up. They were the hand-me-downs of hand-me-downs, ragged, torn, bloody, and patchy, this is how the Al-Qaeda treated their assets’ needs. Nevertheless they did the job and further probing indicated his internal body temperature was leveling out and cooling. She constantly rotated the blankets through the tub to keep him cool, and was further inspecting his wounds, guarding him from anyone curious, and treated him as she saw fit. Once nighttime hit she moved him ever so carefully into her hull through her turret. It was crowded, probably uncomfortable, but this was her best way of protecting him. She had decided that she would splint his legs and let them heal, so that can be used in her favor if she’s tried in a court against her. She wanted him awake badly, so he could eat, but wanted to let him strengthen first, but she figured if he can’t eat he can’t grow, so she lit a match right under his nose.
Jonny suddenly jolted to life, it was loud, echoing, and a dim red from a match about two inches from the tip of his nose. Before he could scream a sturdy hand clasped over his mouth while many more grabbed him and held him down. He resisted and shook trying to escape but it was useless, he was locked down tight. Suddenly a snake-like entity moved out from under a ledge and opened like a banana almost and produced a long needle that glimmered red and black in the light. His eyes darted around and noticed he was in a bubble, a bubble with a monstrously large assembly in the middle and radio-looking gear to his right. The seat he was in was like a bicycle seat and the backrest was bland and pinching his back. He felt unbearably cramped and was nearly freaking out. What have I gotten into!? “You listen American! For your life you listen!” The needle darted closer and stroked his exposed neck. “You do as I say, you do it when I tell you to do it, you say nothing but yes, no, and toilet. Am I understood!?” Once the hand moved away he went full boot on the voice.
“Johnathan Reeves, Private, United States Army, 4-4-6-”
“No!” He was slapped good and firm across the face, he felt indentures and crevices in the hand. “You dumb fuck! Yes, no, or toilet, UNDERSTOOD?”
“TOILET!” She slapped him again trying her best not to giggle but some peeped out.
“Listen here you little worm, I don’t need much effort or thought to kill you, I don’t need you, but if you cooperate you will see your family again, your land again, your freedom again. I guarantee it with my pride, honor, and Russian motherland. ONLY if you cooperate! Am I understood?”
“Yes, ma’am!” She went to slap him again but eased off.
“Very well.”
“Why should I help you?” She went to hit him but stopped and thought, if she didn’t give him some purpose he’d refuse to comply, he needed something to strive for.
“We have the same, goals, er, private. We both want to go home.”
“How do I play into this?” She was growing frustrated with him.
“Because I need an American.”
“If you don’t stop asking qusetions I will beat you!”
“I’ll take it until I die, then, fuck you!” She was growing enraged at him, even as a prisonor, her pet, he still had some authority over her and it infurriated her. “Tell me a plan and I’ll do whatever you want.” She vented a heavy breath through her vents.
“Fine.” She barked. “I plan on getting back to Russia by breaking out of here, but in order to do so, I need a diversion. Before you panic you should survive the diversion. You create the diversion, we slip away, and you help navigate me through the area to your base. From we part. That is all you need.”
“Well it sounds nice,” he started, “but one thing, YOU BLEW UP MY LEGS YOU BITCH!” She really hit him hard for that one, drew quite an amount of blood, too.
“YOU don’t think I haven’t noticed your wounds!? You weak, flimsy, bag of worthless flesh, oh! Oh how disgusting your kind is! I’m disgusted with you bags of meat.” The way she referred to him as meat, flesh, really made him fear for his sake, his trust was on the fence but the promise of home, no matter how timid, drove him to agree. “I’ve already tended to most of your wounds wholly, soon I will have a splint and brace for your legs, you will not move them without my assistance otherwise. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am. You have my full compliance.”
“Good, good.” She smiled for once, she smiled for the first time in years. “Very, very good.” There was a long sullen pause before she mentioned something, it was about canned food she had been given by the terrorists, she fed him and suddenly piped something up. “About that toilet request..,”

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Hansel and Marion Ch 51

I’m back! And boy has it been a long time since I’ve done HaM, and here they are, life in America!


The New World

Ch 51
Marion quickly confronted the Swiss cheese Tiger and learned of how he was related to Adler, and why he looked like Swiss cheese. They talked briefly before Kramia came up with her newborn, Igor, the sweetest little thing as Kramia called him. Igor looked like a Panther hull squashed to the height of a T-34 hull, he had his father’s suspension and his mother’s drive train, Igor had what looked like an elongated Panther turret with a long smooth gun with no muzzle assembly, like his mother’s 85, and he really was the sweetest and friendliest thing with bright blue eyes. Marion didn’t even notice that Kramia had her 85 back on because she was so wrapped up in Igor, but Kramia had changed her guns out, and Mini made a wall mount for the gun which was proudly displayed in the main room of their warehouse. Devestaor and Kramia did their best to update Marion and Hansel on the times missed, none of the couples have broken, which was good to hear, and Kitty was rumored to have a special someone in mind. The Porcshe tanks were heard to be planning a child, Fritz and Jager turned out to be expecting and Edwards had found work at the nearby train station as a engine mechanic. Fritz and Jager had tricked him into a trap and had forcibly changed him to the humorph, he was on the fence about it but leaned away from it because he was thinking of marrying humans, but Fritz and Jager were strongly “recommending” transformation. Kramia also mentioned how Whacker and the IS, Shellproof, had also become a couple. Marion went off to find Cindy and she did, Marion was amazed at how big she had grown, Cindy was almost as big as her parents, so close she had standard Sherman tracks, they were a little loose but they worked. Cindy was very enthralled to see Marion again and flung herself at Marion, embracing Marion like she did her own parents. Hansel and Marion went all around trying to catch up with everyone, and meet all the new little ones like Rosa’s and Joshua’s little bundle. They had a baby boy named Zachery, and that led on to a surprise to all from Chuck and Katelyn were expecting, just out of the blue they came out and said Katelyn has been pregnant for almost three weeks.
It was at this time Hansel counted his blessings, his overabundance of blessings. He survived a direct hit from a tank, survived recovery, met the love of his life and his guardian angel, he’s carried his brothers to safety, he thought of all the things he’s done that would be seen as traitorous: help an enemy vehicle, spare the enemy, cooperate with them, and eventually join them. At the time he didn’t think much of it, more going along with what Marion would want, but if he was ever caught by command of that, he might not be alive today. The eufora swept over him, just how well everything went for him. In the world’s darkest moments he shone bright, and fortune favored him. Dear God, He thought, What have I done to deserve this? How can I repay this?
Soon after that day Hansel started looking for work. He put in many applications but with what little English he could write it was difficult and made even worse with having no references. He had no background in America, his whole time in the army was classified, all of his work were German companies and the only thing he’d be able to prove was being a mechanic; he didn’t trust his crop dusting flight time because of how long ago he did that. He thought about trying to be a salesman but with his German accent, who’d buy from the loser? The ex-nazi? Marion tried to comfort him and keep his spirirts up and after a few weeks she didn’t have to try so hard, he got a job offer.
Roberson was glad to get Hansel into work, it turned out that he’d been going through applications at the store his father had just opened and noticed a Hansel, he only knew one guy named Hansel and went through it. Roberson noticed the obvious German-esque spelling errors and called to make sure it was who he thought it was. Roberson confirmed it was Hansel Walter and pressured his father to override the reject stamp and hire Hansel, so it was done. Roberson personally shook Hansel’s hand and when thanked he replied: “No Walter, thank you! I served in the third army, you and your Tiger personally saved my life, this is the least I could do to repay you. How are you guys? How’s she doing? She’s, she’s still around, right?” Hansel hush-hushed him because it was classified, but assured him she was well, that they all are well.
“Also,” Hansel added, “I’m going to marry her as soon as I can afford the ring.” Roberson was surprised.
“Wow, congradulations! Honestly thought you already did marry her.” Hansel quickly picked up on his new line of work working in a grocery store, the work load wasn’t extreme but it was a heavy load. He stocked shelves and unloaded trucks, Roberson knew Hansel was a leader and was setting him up to be in management at some point, so with Hansel’s hard work and dedication mixed with support from higer ups he made progress at a welcome rate. He made some raises and moved positions in under two years.
Marion, because she’s technically classified, spent her days at home. Of her boredom and desire to do something she asked Hansel to bring home some plant seeds he talked about, and she became quite a gardener, she also kept up with her little hobby of crafting objects out of wood. She had made numerous things like the cooking utensils she used, a coat hanger, a little cabinet, a beautiful sculpture of a fox, and of a little name plaque for Hansel. She’d also try cooking a lot, and spent a lot of her time cooking and trying different concoctions of foods, some she liked, others she didn’t, and as Hansel would find out and quickly agree, she had become very good at cooking. He loved her cooking, he dreamed of it sometimes, he’d compliment her on almost everything, almost. He wasn’t afraid to say that it wasn’t good, and Marion was never upset by that, that’s what groomed her into such a good cook. Every morning they’d greet each other, eat breakfast together and talk about their plans, then Hansel would kiss her goodbye, wish each other a good day, and he’d go to work. Typical family life of the 40’s, except they didn’t have kids to pat off to school, Marion wanted kids, but had gotten a fix from raising and caring for Cindy so her desire wasn’t pressing, just a want. She knew how expensive kids would be, and how insecure Hansel feels at the moment financially, he wasn’t well off but they knew they weren’t suffering. Hansel just wanted to have money saved up for when that time came.
They never fought or really argue, they’d disagree over petty things like what furniture would fit the scene or how the new bushes should look, sometimes they’d never agree but mostly they would be swayed to the other’s view. Mostly for the better but they never were stubborn, if it was a bad decision they fixed it. They were very flexible in other words, and in those first two years they had made the place very homey and they were quite happy and proud of what they’d done together. They were constantly busy with something and never had any sex, they relieved thier stresses in other ways, hobbies and such, and if the desire persisted they’d relieve themselves so the other wasn’t disturbed in thier work. But every evening when Hansel got home he asked her about her day, she’d tell him a quick summary and then she’d ask him about his, he’d run down his schedule, and ask about certain parts of hers, she’d elaborate and ask about some of his which he’d explain. Then they ate dinner together, talking about their plans for tomorrow, and the weekend or the holiday. They’d play some games and listen to the radio, elaborate on something that happened or their plans, and then they’d tidy up, Hansel would wash up-Marion was washed by Hansel about every Saturday, and they’d turn in for the night, wrapped up in their arms and tucked in for the night.
Hansel set his car into park and turned off the engine. The Florida rain was coming down hard, like it always did in summer, and he didn’t feel like getting out of the car. He was home late, real late, and it was because of a lot, but he’d only say work kept him that late. Truth was that work did go late and was very hard, the electric lift was busted so the whole truck had to be unloaded by hand by just himself and some highschool kid. Next he went over to the jewelry store and got the rings that he’d been looking at, that took a lot longer than he expected, and since the end of the war Florida had started populating more so there was road work to make the roads safer, safer not safe, and that held him up even longer. So his expected plan to be out of the store and home by seven was completely blow out of the water as his watch read 10:22 pm. He nearly hit a deer, too, scared him shitless like he had been shot again. He sluggishly looked to the passenger side and made sure his items were all together, the rings buried on the bottom of the paper bag and stacked on top were some groceries Marion wanted, a handful of watermelon seeds he finally remembered to collect, a whole chicken body, some small art supplies that his store had, and some pens. He sighed deeply and tucked the things under his coat and made a break for the porch through the pouring rain. He got to the porch with only stepping in one mud puddle, usually it’s about three. He kicked and stomped his shoes around to get as much mud off, then bent his aching back over to pick out the mud in the laces. He reached into the bottom of the bag and plucked the rings out and put them into his back pocket of his pants before he entered the house portion of the home. He took off his coat and shook it off and placed it neatly onto the coat rack Marion made, he kicked off his shoes and kicked them into the corner; he’d clean them off later, and walked through the hallway, through the house kitchen and dining room into the main room. The main room they called the living room was where the vast open space was for Marion, and if you walked in like Hansel had and turned around it would look like the whole wall of the house had fallen down and exposed the innards. The two floors reminds them of the “old western” movie bars with the staircase leading up to a balcony leading to the rooms on the second floor. There were three bedrooms on the second floor and one full bathroom, the first floor had a lounge, office, kitchen, dining room, laundry room, and an additional bedroom with a full and half bathroom. The whole hangar had been divided by Marion into five areas, her kitchen, laundry wall, living room, maintenance area, and bedroom. Hansel and her had only erected basic frames for the walls and hadn’t done anything more with it yet, because Marion wanted to adjust the size of the bedroom to make it smaller, more like the barn they first ‘met’ each other. Marion was also thinking about dividing more space for rooms like a guest room, two bedrooms, and maybe some more kitchen room for storage. Hansel supported her ideas, and would like so expand into the house so she could use some of that space, too, but she liked the way it looked. “Oh, Hansel, where were you I’ve been worried sick!” He groaned.
“I’ve been at work, we got an extra shipment and the lift was busted. It was Carter and myself. How’re you doing, dear?”
“Oh that sounds like it was rough, I’m fine, just the little cat-things came by and gave me a headache, they really like our potatoes.”
“I bet, they’ve been digging at them for weeks.” He sat down at a cushion chair against the wall and let out a relaxing sigh. Marion rolled over to him and massaged his shoulder.
“Supper’s cold by now, want me to heat it up for you?” He rubbed his face and looked up to her, meeting her gaze with his, her gaze had never changed. That was the exact same lovely and beautiful gaze she gave him the night he met her.
“Ah, no, no, it’s fine, babe, I’ll eat it cold. Thank you, thanks for supper.” He wretched himself out of the comfy chair and hobbled over to the stove she cooked on. Inside the pot was warm stew of carrots, beef, peas and potateos with a hint of seasoning that she loved making, and Hansel loved eating. “Oh this smells great, Marion! I love you.” He made himself a bowl and grabbed another, “Would you want some, dear?”
“No, I’ll save it for tomorrow. You can take some for lunch if you’d like.”
“Oh yes please,” he scooped up some stew and hurriedly ate some, “I swear you get better and betteer, babe.”
“Oh stop, you just get hungrier I don’t get better.” He sat down at the table and gulped down another spoonful.
“I disagree, you get better.” He quickly devoured the bowl and thanked her again for the meal. She was going through the bag he brought home.
“Oh yes! You remembered the seeds!” She smiled and examined them, little black and tan tear drop seeds in a jar made her so happy, and that made Hansel happy. As she sifted through the seeds with her mechanical hand Hansel felt his back pocket, the rings were there. It made him smile more. Once she’s done, he thought, then it happens. “Hansel, do you know if there is any yellow paint or dye at the store? I want to make a sculpture of the long leg birds that walk the yard.”
“I’ll have to check for it, don’t know off the top of my head.” He watched her go through the bags and sort the items out on the table and once she turned to put something away he proped himself up, pulled the ring box out of his pocket and stepped away from the table. “Marion?”
“Yes, Hansel?” She turned her gaze and saw the little box. Hansel slowly and painfully got down on one knee and opened the box, Marion gasped and droped the jar of seeds.
“Marion would you marry me?” He smiled pleadingly, Marion’s hands clasped her mouth as she teared up, and visibly shook.
“Yes! Yes! Yes Hansel I’ll marry you!” Tears streamed down her face and she pulled him up to kiss her. Her turret was off over her right side so when they kissed Hansel could hold her chin as they locked together for one of thier longest kisses. Her arms wrapped around all of him, through his shirt and in his socks, through his hair and into his hands, it felt like the end of the war but better! Hansel, too, teared up and cried with her. Once they broke apart she laid him out and held him aginst her side where he fought not to fall asleep.
“I love you Marion, with all my-*yawn*-heart, I’ll be by you through good and bad, thick and thin, joy and pain. Just as you have been there for me I’ll be there for you, till death do us part and again when I find you in heaven.” Marion had no idea what to say, ‘I love you’ wasn’t enough, she had no words for this emotion, it vastly outmatched any dialogue she had prepared, she was truly swamped with emotion. Even though he wasn’t going to enjoy it, it’ll be painful, and she didn’t want to do it, they had planned that if he ever married her she’d convert him to a humorph. He knew as well, he knew how much it was going to hurt-indescribable pain and misery, literal life-changing and body fusing torture. But in the end both knew it had to be done and the benefits outweighed any physical feeling they had. So Marion asked him;
“Hansel, are you sure you want to do this?” She opened one of her tendrils to reveal the long and thick probe, the base a series of coils and hoses, and the point fine and pricky. She felt a little sick herself looking at it, she’d never been penetrated by anything-just Hansel- and being armored and mentaly built so nothing would penetrate her, it felt wrong and sickening to think about the whole concept of injection.
“I’m not sure, babe, but this is the plan. I’m going to marry you no matter what, might as well stick around.” He looked into her uncertainty, her eyes beading still from crying. “Do it.” With that she put some cloth between his teeth and lined up the injectors, tears bubbled at her eyes and blurred her vision but it was too late, they were lined up and ready. She clentched her eyes shut and pressed into him.
The actual penetration wasn’t bad for Hansel. Her body was warm and the needles seemed to fade away in his body unlike normal shots, the metal wasn’t icy cold and instead he was left with the aching and pinching feeling at the skin and like there was a knot in his muscles. He thought to himself This isn’t too bad when she hit him with it. Suddenly an intense burning sensation filled the points from the inside out, and rapid and sudden muscle contractions twitched and pulled all around his body, he felt loss of any control and then the real pain hit. He felt like he was dying, like he was being filled like a balloon, the fiery feeling turned into a black and gnawing beast slowly crossing into the mortal realm, hell itself was using Hansel as a portal. Hansel screamed and cried out, all he could somewhat control, but the rest of him was thrashing about, his head slammed against her armor and he felt not pain but relief when that happened. It soon felt like his very flesh was being ripped off his bone, bare bone suddenly had nerves and they cried and bled out in pain and misery. His guts began thrashing as if they were a separate entity, Hansel wasn’t very religious but he swore for the rest of his life that at that moment the very beings of God and Satan were fighting inside of him, immortals were ravaging his body and slowly it felt like he was losing. Marion was trying her best to keep him from hurting himself with restrictions and soothing voices to help but his muffled screams would drown her out for anyone nearby. Hansel felt like murder, felt like his organs were ripping and tearing and popping slowly, oh so slowly! His eyes blacked out but he could still see but it wasn’t the roof or Marion like before, no, now it was him, he saw himself dying. His heart suddenly stopped beating and he felt it but still the bleeding sensation lived on. It came back again with a vengeance and felt like it was exploding out of his chest, his ribcage was cracking and healing all at once, his brain shrinking and expanding at once, his lungs collapsing and breathing like never before. His screams worrying Marion even more. She was crying, full on crying. In her mind she vowed she’d never do this again, never.
By the time it was completed Marion was sobbing, she had drenched Hansel in his sweat and her tears. She pulled the injectors out and pressed him against her turret cheek with his blank face looking at her eye. She kept crying and chanting how sorry she was, pleading for him to come to, to come back. She was praying to the God she never learned to give him back. His hair was full and smooth as she stroked through it, his muscles tight and taught, his body warm and convulsing, his limbs twitched and squirmed. She thought she killed him, she couldn’t get an answer from him, she couldn’t feel a beat through his soaked clothes, and it had been ten minutes since she stopped. She blamed herself, he wasn’t ready or she didn’t do it right, she killed him and it was all her doing. She killed her love, killed him in the most brutal and aganizing death possible. She’d never forgive herseld for it, how she was going to carry on she didn’t know and didn’t expect to. She wanted to die, to join him in death, she couldn’t go on without him. It was unfeasable for her.
No this isn’t no fucking Romeo and Juliet shit calm down.
Hansel puked his guts out and gasped for air. His eyes shot open and he looked around confused, panicking, and frightened. He fixed his gaze on Marion as she sat there breathtaken. She did’t notice his vomit all over her body, she didn’t notice the thunderous storm that had turned into a hurricane, she didn’t notice the time passing. She noticed one thing and one thing only. She noticed Hansel. She admired every detail his body had to offer, from the size of his toes to how many eyelashes he had. They sat and stared in silence. Hansel was sweating profusely and was breathing heavily, he didn’t feel too different and was wondering how he looked. Marion just wouldn’t stop staring at him, he decided to say something. “You alright, Marion?”
“Yes I’m fine. Baby, are you alright?” Hansel self checked himself, he was exhausted and his stomach was empty, but he craved things other than food like a fuel of a sorts, and of course Marion’s cooking always sounded good.
“I-uh, I’m starving honey, I could eat something.” Marion was warned about this by F2, Hansel’s gonna want something only she can make, not by hand but by body. She messed with him a bit.
“Like, like what? Describe it.”
“Uh, something kind of liquid, goes down easy.”
“Yeah? So like a soup or stew?”
“No, no not a stew or soup, not even a chowder. I, I want something creamy, no chunks at all, please.”
“So I could put the stew in the blender, sound good?”
“No. Damn, I must be such a pain right now but I don’t know what it is, it’s fatty and creamy, no chunks, nothing blended that leaves scraps around and I want it.., I want it uniform. I want it warm, too, I think it’s-”
“Milk, you want breast milk.” Hansel blushed red, Marion giggled a little bit. “I know what you want, you want breast milk.” Hansel started denying it. “Hansel you described it almost to the letter, I know what you want because Zwei told me, it’s my tit milk!” Hansel continued to deny it even though his mouth watered and his stomach churned for it. “Hansel, just admit it, you’ll feel better I promise, sweetie.” He swallowed his pride, it didn’t help his hunger as he wished, and he admitted it.
“Milk sounds really good, honey.” She giggled and sat him on the other side of the turret on her deck. Her towing eye opened and out came the feeding hose. It went up her glacsis and into Hansel’s lap. He picked it up with hungry eyes and a salivated mouth and put it to his lips. He sucked gently at first on the nipple and when it fed to him rich, warm, creamy, milk he started to suck on it more. He slipped into a more reclined position and drank and drank and drank. He drank his fill and then when he was done he rolled over to sleep. “Marion,”
“Yes dear? More milk?”
“No, but thank you, tell everyone we’re getting married, and try on the ring, too.”
“Oh Hansel, I told you don’t spoil me, I don’t want these luxeries. This extra glitter, it’s not my style. It’s not me.” She picked up the ring box and looked at the ring, it had a gold band with a diamond in the middle and two littler ones beside it. “The ring is gorgeous, dear, I think it’s amazing, but I don’t think I’d wear it.” She wrapped her arms up around him and stripped him of the wet clothes and wrapped him into a blanket cocoon. That reminded Hansel he threw up on her and he motioned to clean it up. “No, no, it’s already eleven, you have work tomorrow. I’ll clean it, you rest. You need it more than me.”
“I love you, Marion.”
“I love you, Hansel.”
He performed normally at work, told Roberson that he did it, finally proposed to Marion and got a yes. Other than Roberson Hansel was just another guy at work, didn’t talk to another person about personal life. Marion didn’t really want to tell everyone that Hansel proposed because she felt like that’d be bragging about it, she just didn’t feel right doing that so she kept it to herself until the weekend when they made their monthly trip up to the base for check ups and meetings. There she told everyone Hansel proposed and that they were getting married, and she brought the ring along to show it was real. It seemed Marion wasn’t alone in feeling iffy about the ring, nearly all the female tanks didn’t want a ring, Kitty said she’d like a ring but not to wear, she wanted one to call her own in her collection of jewelry and bling she had as a collection. Hetz was the only one who said she’d wear a ring and would want too wear it. But they all did want to show their marriage off, but how? They were all sitting around when they overheard Hansel and Whacker joking around.
“So you can come down and work on the wiring when the time comes, Whacker?’
“Yeah, Sell I can do it. I’ll just give Shell a heads up about it and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. She might even come down with me.”
“So she had you on a leash, then, eh?”
“No more chasing the ladies around? No more bachelor for you?”
“Oh yeah, she killed this bachelor, gonna put a big old kill mark on her gun for that impressive kill.” They continued on with the idea laughing. Marion didn’t think that was a bad idea. She admired her kill marks that were painted out, the thin stripes were killing allied armor and soft skins and the thick ones were killing axis armor. The SS tank was a really thick black stripe with the white lightning bolts on either side. It was her most proud kill. She imagined that gold ring around her barrel and thought of how nice it would look, like she was an ace tank, fighters painting their noses yellow being an ace and her, her kill stripe was yellow for the ace kill: a husband. “Yeup, a big ole fat guy’s gonna be on her gun when we marry. The very paint itself will reek of beer and sausage.” When Marion and Hansel went home that night she talked to him about it.
“Hansel, honey, would you put another mark on my gun?” He knew what it was.
“You heard Whacker and I joking?”
“I did, but it’s not a bad idea, baby. I’d proudly wear it, I want it, Hansel. I think it fits perfectly.” He wasn’t against it at all.
“Marion, most rings have some sort of phrase or pattern on them, would you want that on your band?” She opened her mouth to say something, looking at her gun, but nothing came out at first.
“Anything on the ring you got?” There wasn’t. “Okay, uh, no then. But it’s paint, we could do something with it later.”
“Alright, when do you want me to put it on.” This was her dilemma, she wanted it then, right there, but they weren’t married yet, she wanted to display it but not lie about it. She described her dilemma to Hansel and he came up with a solution she saw fit He’d paint two very thin and fine gold lines with a gap in between them, they agreed that on their marriage day, maybe at the ceremony, the gap would be filled and they would be properly married.
Not too long after Hansel put the engagement stripes on her they were married at the church on the base. Their only family was there, the tanks and family they made in the war. It wasn’t s typical wedding mainly because there aren’t tanks in attendance, so the level of serious wasn’t as high as other weddings. There was a little joking, Marion wasn’t in a gown but Cindy mad her a little tiara to wear on her cupola and she slipped in the soft dirt a little while driving the aisle, there were no flower girls and no ring bearers, the bride’s maids were ‘lined up’ in a bunch so they could see past each other, the Groom’s men were bunched up in the same fashion as well. There were few tux’s worn, most just wore their dress uniform who had a uniform, few ladies were there that could fit into a dress to begin with but those who could wore fine dresses in the middle of the field and cared little how dirty they got. Hansel chose Whacker as his First man, and had Mini, Chuck, Joshua, Inbred, and Fritz as the Groom’s men, he would have had Banker in the line up as well but he signed up to stay with Betty, his Pershing lover, and they were in some base in at state called Kentucky. Marion’s bride’s maids were Jager, Hetz, F2, Kramia, Rosa, and her sister Porscha. It started out a beautiful Sunday morning and by the time the celebration ended it was pouring down rain. They didn’t mind and had an after party well into the night, at around one in the morning everybody had dispersed. Marion had a good bit to drink but being how big she is it was almost ineffective to her, Hansel had a little to drink, too, but was just as buzzed as Marion. They got home at around three in the morning, Marion was all covered in mud and cake, just a smear of cake streaking down her upper glacsis and Hansel had a champagne stain on his jacket and was certain he lost his bow tie, Marion had grabbed it off his chair so it wasn’t lost. Once the door slammed shut they locked into another kiss, the taste of Red Apple Cider, Marion’s choice, and the bland Champagne, Hansel’s drink because no one fought for the bottle, still lingered on their tongues and aired in their mouths. As they drew away they went for another kiss and mixed the tastes more, and again and again until they had kissed the taste of their drinks away.
“Ready to start the honeymoon, my wife?”
“Let’s start it up, my husband!”
Fin Ch 51

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) (he gon get it) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


Also I worked my ass off and finally got Marion on War Tinder (War Thunder but it’s us we’re talking about), and while I haven’t actually made a skin for her this is what I scrounged up to represent her, the gold band on the barrel in the Hansel Hubby Kill. But she calls it either the Hubby Stripe or Hansel Stripe.

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