© 2015 DELTA X3
-7 May 2022
It wasn’t until the frigid Russian breeze hit him that he realized just how tired and sore he was. Seeking refuge from the cold he ducked into a store just across the street where he was to meet Leonid.
The thought of what happened last night was still fresh in his mind as he meandered about the store. He thought about how he had just last night made love to a soviet era MI-24 Gunship helicopter named Anya. The miracle of these living machines was not lost on him but, she was something special. Not only that but, last night the bond had been created between the two, the fabled “connection’ that signified an unquestionable compatibility between the two entities. Now they would have a heightened sense of one another and a constant longing for their companion when apart. He hoped that what he had heard of it wasn’t true, that it was unbreakable. It would have to would wear off after a while, he wasn’t going to be in Russia forever, his rotation would end at the close of the year and he would be shipped to his next post in another country.
He hardly noticed the group of men with large duffel bags that walked through the store and into a back room, he did however notice the man who at the back. All he caught was the Aeroflot Airlines jacket and the faded gray ball cap. Chase recalled that Leonid worked for Aeroflot, ground guiding planes on the runway and he often wore a hat like that. The man’s build was right and he walked with the same hardly noticeable limp favoring his right leg which Leonid had always credited to “the war.”
Chase was about to discount this as a coincidence when he heard three muffled the thumps come from the back room. The sounds went unnoticed to the rest of the occupants but Chase had the feeling it wasn’t simply boxes falling off a shelf. He considered the possibility of it being just his over active imagination but against his best judgment he decided to investigate. Maybe it would satisfy his curiosity. He moved to the back door, looked through the small circular window and saw nothing. He checked around him to make sure no one was watching then cautiously pushed the door open and proceed into the cramped stock room.
He continued into the dimly lit room moving between storage shelves until his foot ran into something soft. “Leonid!” Chase exclaimed, taking a knee next to him. He had a stream of blood sweeping between his fingers staining a large patch of the gray shirt under his jacket.
“What the hell is going on, who shot you?” he started to move in to assess his injuries. There were two gunshot wounds to the chest and a single shot to the upper part of his right arm. The arm was a clean through-and-through but the between the heavy bleeding and Leonid’s wheezing breaths Chase could tell the chest wounds were a real problem. Chase tried to start pulling away the tattered cloth but Leonid pushed his hands away “There’s no time” Leonid said his teeth clenched from the pain, a faint hue of red on his lips “You have to stop those men.”
“What are you talking about what’s going on?”
“I’m FSB.” Leonid said a raspy cough, bring up even more blood.
“You’re Russian Intelligence?” this caught Chase completely off guard.
“Chase you have to listen to me those men are part of a Chechnya partisan group, they are terrorists. They’re going to use a bomb at the parade.”
“Don’t you have back up?”
“Damn it Chase they won’t be here in time, we’re talking about minutes here. You have to stop them.” Leonid reached in his jacket and removed a FN 5.7 pistol “Take this.” Chase was still trying to get a grasp on what was going on “People will die!” Leonid barked.
Reluctantly chase took hold of the gun. “Also, take this” Leonid tore a section of his jacket, removing a button that trailed wires followed by a small device. “Record what happens here, it will be the only thing to keep you out of prison and show Russia what happened. Now go, I’ll be fine.” Chase knew Leonid didn’t even believe that, there was a good chance he had a collapsed lung and he had already lost a lot of blood which was evident from the pool of blood that had begun to accumulate around him. Chase stuck the button cam in the lapel hole on his overcoat and trailed the wires to the internal pocket then nodded. He didn’t want to leave his friend here sitting there bleeding on the floor but if what he was saying was true time was not on his side.
He realized just how little he actually knew about Leonid, what if he was a terrorist and he ended up shooting an actual FSB agent, his involvement in this could spark an international incident on an epic scale, especially in the current uneasy relations between America and Russia. But why would a terrorist be using a hidden camera, terrorist groups normally had a camera crew following them for this kind of thing. He looked down at the tiny device. It was definitely agency grade, not some backwater terrorist trash or an online spy shop product. This put his mind a little at ease but all the possibilities concerned him. He came to his feet and moved toward the door at the back of the room.
He proceeded through the door gun raised as he entered the hallway noticing three spend 9mm casings on the floor. The hallway made a 90 degree turn to the right a few meters down. He slowly approached the corner, keeping his weapon up, careful not to expose his muzzle he rounded the corner. The first thing he saw was a man standing at the end of the hallway with his back to him. He couldn’t make much out but the noticeable bulge under his jacket which most likely indicated he was wearing some kind of body armor. Chase pulled back the pistols slide a few millimeters seeing that there was a round in the chamber. Seeing the tail end of a shell casing he let it go and got ready.
In his head this is how it would go. He would slowly sneak up behind the man, put the muzzle of the pistol to the back of his head, inform him if he desired to keep the number of holes in his head from increasing he would remain quiet and do exactly as he said. He would make him show his hands, put him on the ground, restrain him, quick search then have a little Q&A session. Nobody dead, no shots fired and maybe some of the dozens of questions swimming around in his head answered. It couldn’t go wrong until it did. His pant leg got caught on a paint roller sitting on a can in the hallway, knocking it to the ground. The sound wasn’t very loud but loud enough to get the target’s attention.
The first thing he saw as man swung around was the unmistakable muzzle of an AK-74 assault rifle. Things seemed to go into slow motion. If he fired there could be consequences, if he chose not to fire he could be dead within seconds. The pistol bucked as it sent the first round down range. The high velocity 5.7mm bullet cut straight through the Kevlar vest, the deformed slug shifting direction as it reached the soft tissues, slicing through vital organs and lodging itself in the shoulder blade. Chase squeezed the trigger three more times, all rounds impacting center mass.
That was it. He had irreversibly involved himself in Russian affairs and in no small way. If he was on the wrong side of this when the dust settled this could cause more trouble between the US and Russia than any diplomat could ever resolve and land him in the basement of some unmarked FSB building, never to see the light of day again. The man fell backward into a pile on the floor dead in seconds. Chase heard scuffling in the room ahead, no doubt the man’s accomplices. He hurried to the threshold.
As he to the doow he heard the familiar “click clack” of a shotgun. Hardly having time to react to the threat he dived through the doorway just as the open door next to him erupted in dust and shredded shards of wood. Another “click clack” and all the papers on the desk between him and the shotgun were turned into confetti. The flash of what he was able to see before diving for his life was a poorly lit room, the few remaining florescent bulbs flickered leaving the room mostly dark between the flickers giving the run down room a horror film feel. The room was populated by rows of desks and filing cabinets showing decades of neglect, a portrait of Stalin still hanging on the wall.
As he hit the ground he could he could see the outline of a foot under the rows of desks. Without hesitation he fired three quick shots at ground level. He heard a scream of agony as they tore through the leather boot and into the assailant’s foot. The man hit the ground and chase hit him with another two to the torso.
Chase attempted to stand and assess the situation but was quickly forced back to the ground as the clatter of a sub machine gun pock marked the wall behind him. Chase stuck the pistol over the desk top and blindly fired five rounds back. The sub machine gun in turn returned a short burst.
Again the gunner sprayed a barrage of fire in Chase’s direction. He got an idea, a very unorthodox idea but it had worked in a movie. Slowly and silently he moved back into the hall and grabbed the dead man’s collar, dragging him back into the room. Another burst came from the other side of the room this time from a second gun, another burst following from the first. No doubt they were going to try to flank him, he had to hurry. He put the AK sling around the man’s mid-section and heaved him up. He hooked the sling on the top shelf of a filing cabinet effectively propping him upright. It looked absurd but it should serve the purpose. Chase grabbed the grip of the rifle and let off a few shots, the muzzle flashes hopefully giving the opposition the position of where he wanted them to believe he was. Creeping back under a desk he waited, watching the beams of their flashlights flick off as the pair began their flanking maneuver one going around to the left, the other to Chase’s right.
He could faintly hear their footsteps as they approached. The pair stopped then together jumped around the corner. They saw the target and began to spray the decoy with bullets. Chase leveled the pistol at the far man and pulled the trigger. A clean head shot, dead before he hit the floor. The near man was quick to turn around and chase had no time to adjust his aim. He sprung out of hiding driving his shoulder into the man’s rib cage, knocking him off his feet and sending his weapon flying over the desk. Chase followed him to the ground. He tried to line up a shot but the assailant took hold of his firing hand, pushing the gun outward. They fought for control of the firearm discharging a round into the wall. His opponent kicked off the wall rolling the two over. Chase was now underneath him, exactly where he didn’t want to be. Still struggling for the weapon with one hand he used his other to deliver a powerful punch to Chase’s side. Chase grunted as he hit him a second time. Chase freed his other hand from between the two of them and landed a blow to the man’s temple stunning him for a split second. He then followed with a strike to his jaw.
He was still fighting to get the gun into position to put an end to this little scuffle but his opponent wasn’t making it easy. Another shot went off into the ceiling. The man used his leverage to slam Chase’s hand against the ground forcing him to release the gun, sending it skidding across the floor. Chase used this opportunity to get a knee between them and shove his opponent off him and make some distance between them. Both shuffled to their feet. Chase put his fists up, preparing for the fight.
His opponent reached behind his back and withdrew a NR-40 fighting knife. Aiming the strike right for Chase’s gut he came in fast with the knife. Chase saw the strike coming. He pushed his waist backward, bending at the waist and catching the man’s wrist with his arms locked out stopping the knife. In one fluid motion chase shifted the momentum of the strike upward, sliding under the man’s arm moving behind him then pulling his arm back down and planting the knife hilt deep in the man’s side. When he was taught that, Chase never thought it would have worked but he had just been proven wrong. It was a fatal blow, the tip of the knife had slit the left ventricle of his heart and bottom of his lung.
Chase let him fall to the ground. He needed a moment to pull himself together. He’d been in a firefight before but that was fighting an enemy a few hundred meters away with a squad of other men and armored support. He had just by himself killed four armed men in close quarters combat. He had never been in actual hand to hand combat before. He had to snap himself out of it, there was still a job to do. He could feel his heart pounding, adrenaline coursing through his veins.
He walked over and collected his pistol, brushing away the dust from the scuffle. The exit to the room was a doorway at the back of the room. It had some serious locks on it but they were all unlocked. Through the doorway he found himself on a stairway leading down four flights until another door with similar locks but this one read in Russian “Authorized access only” he went through and found himself facing what appeared to be a bank vault door. It had a placard that read B-66. He recalled this from a documentary he had seen. Scattered all throughout Moscow during the cold war the Defense ministry had built bunkers during the cold war for government officials in case of nuclear war. They were designed to withstand a nuclear blast and sustain the occupants for months with interconnected communications so they could attempt to maintain the government from the safety of underground. Many of them kept so secret that after the collapse of the Soviet Union they were forgotten, some being discovered by accident after the buildings were sold off.
The heavy door was slightly ajar, just enough to slip through without moving it. Inside was a undisturbed lavished 60s era reception area. He saw a shadow under the door to the rest of the bunker. This place was so isolated it was possible they were not even aware of what had happened up stairs. He could hear voices speaking Chechen which he couldn’t understand. Listening closely he could hear one of whoever was inside stood right inside the door probable leaning against it. He didn’t know what he would find in there but he was about to find out. He have humself a few feet between him and the door and using his shoulder bashed the door open. He followed through pinning the man behind the door then put the pistol to the door and fired off the remaining few rounds in the magazine through the wooden door. The slide locked to the rear as the final shell ejected.
He dived as the other stunned guard regained his senses and fired, stitching the area where Chance’s head had just been with automatic fire. He abandoned his empty pistol and grabbed the dropped MP5K from the guy behind the door and sent a burst at shin level. The man screamed as the bullets shredded flesh and shattered bone. The third man in the room continued typing at a computer set.
This set up was too large for them to have just brought in, the room looked like a command center. There were consoles, displays and CCTV monitors displaying various live feeds from the parade. It was obvious there had been preparation put into this.
“Stop what you’re doing!” chase shouted in Russian standing up and kicking the gun away from the man he had just shot. “I said stop what you’re doing, move away from the console.”
The unknown man hit a final button then casually turned around. “I don’t know what you’re doing meddling in Russian affairs American but there’s nothing you can do now” the man said in nearly flawless English.
“What are you talking about?” chase said keeping his sights firmly on his chest.
“As soon as that timer reaches zero” he looked up at a timer fixed to the wall “you see that Topol” he pointed to the massive RT-2MP 16 wheeled mobile ICBM launcher. “Its missile pod is loaded with a special bomb what you Americans call a ‘dirty bomb’. When it detonates it will level red square and flood Moscow in a cloud of radioactive particles.”
“Why are you doing this?>” chase questioned “The Chechen war is over.”
“You think this is about Chechnya, no, this is about far more. Not only will this entirely eradicate all the vermin who crawl about the Kremlin but also that Topol you see there, it’s one of those abominations, those ‘living machines’.” Disgust dripped from his words. “They will blame them and they will have to dismantle them removing many of their vehicles and crippling Russia’s mechanized fighting forces. With a weakened military and no leadership Russia itself will begin to fall to pieces”
“They’ll never believe that.”
“Trust me we’ve staged enough that they’ll have a welding torch to all of them within a week.”
This infuriated chase, he could only think of Anya. “You stop this right now” Chase shouted at him jamming the muzzle burning hot of the gun into his forehead.
The man remained completely calm despite the pain “Nothing can be done now”
Chase grabbed him by the back of the neck and slammed his face against the console “Undo it now!” Chase barked.
“You don’t understand, there’s nothing that can be done. There’s no secret code, this isn’t one of your super spy movies. When the time is up this this station will broadcast the detonation signal” Chase looked up at the screen and saw the Topol was sitting in the chute, about to go. The timer read 45 seconds.
“This room will seal as soon as the signal is sent.”
“You bastard” chase growled bringing him up to eye level. Chase cocked back and delivered the most powerful punch he could to his jaw, knocking him out cold. He began frantically looking over the consoles, nothing made any sense. He was running out of time.
The clock read 10 seconds. He couldn’t think of anything.
Five seconds. His last chance, he had to do something.
His last resort, he turned his head closed his eyes and fired off the rest of the magazine into the computers, microchips and plastic flying everywhere. He opened his eyes. The consoles were completely demolished. One monitor was still working he could see the parade as the timer hit two then one. Chase held his breath. Then zero. Nothing happened. Chase let out a sigh of relief. “I guess I just saved the day” He was just about to exit the outer door as he heard a scuffling just beyond it. The pressure wave knocked him from his feet as the door exploded off its hinges and men in black tactical gear flowed in. He felt himself flipped onto his face and a knee in the center of his back as a black bag was placed over his head and zip ties were cinched tight on his wrists. He slowly slipped into unconsciousness.
-Personal journal entry 453: 13 May 2022
Ok, here’s what happened. So it turns out Leonid was Russian Intelligence, FSB. He was pursuing a group of terrorists who were going to set off a dirty bomb during the Victory day parade. Their motive was to destroy the seat of Russian government and frame the Living machines for the crime destroying all the progress and credibility they have made so far. It almost seemed personal. After a shootout I’ll never forget, I managed, by a damn miracle, to stop them. The only bad part was I completely missed the parade, I missed seeing Anya’s final performance. I spent two days in and out of a FSB interrogation room before they released me back to the American government where I spent the last few days on ice, questioned by every three letter agency I’ve ever heard of and a few I hadn’t. I even have my own shadow now, State Department Special Agent Mike Falkner. He’s never far out of sight. No outside contact, TV, internet, nothing. Worst part is I can’t get that helicopter off my mind. No matter what I do I think of her. Tomorrow I’m supposed to be meeting with the President of the Russian Federation, one of the most powerful men on earth, President Vladimir Putin.
Back at Kubinka, Anya was sitting in her hangar. She hadn’t heard from Chase for days and was beginning to think it had just been a one night stand. This was really starting to take a toll on her, she just wasn’t feeling herself, depression starting to set in.
The door creaked as it slid open. She turned and saw Vadik roll in. This would boost her mood a little, she always enjoyed his company. “What’s the matter?” She said noticing the somber look on his face.
“Orders just came in from Moscow. You’re to report to the maintenance hangar for de-mil.” Vadik said.
Anya could feel what humans would compare to their heart dropping. “Well, they don’t waist any time now don’t they. Victory day parade one day scrap yard the next.”
“I’m sorry I tried to talk to the Colonel but he said the orders were final. They were sent from the Ministry of Defense.” Vadik came up to her and put one of his tendrils to her face, hoping to console her. He’d seen this happen to a few of the vehicles he knew. It hurt worse and worse every time, this time especially because it was her, he cared for her a lot. “Have you considered running?”
“You know it wouldn’t work.” she said. Vadik knew this. It was a Russian military base, there was no getting away from the missiles and MiG’s that would be sent after her.
Vadik came up next to her and pressed his hull against hers. “I’m really going to miss you.” Vadik said softly to her.
“I’m going to miss you to.”
“Here” He said removing his tow and hooking it to her tow point “let me.”
“Now remember what we talked about.” Ambassador Rawling and Chase sat in the waiting room just outside of the office of the President of the Russian Federation in the Russian White House in Moscow. “If you can find a way, if he asks if there’s anything he can do for you remember…” Ambassador Rawling was interrupted “The President will see you now Mr. Weber.” Chase and Rawling stood “Just Mr. Weber”
“But.” Ambassador Rawling began to protest.
“The President wants to speak with him personally” the assistant insisted.
Ambassador Rawling reluctantly took his seat. Chase adjusted his tie as he followed the assistant through the the heavy wooden doors.
“Dobroye utro, Mr. Weber.” President Putin said standing and walking out from behind his desk.
“Dobroye utro, Mr. President.” chase replied as formally as he could. President Putin extended his hand and chase took it. The aging former KGB Colonel had a remarkable grip for his age and still retained the dominating demeanor he had become known for “Please take a seat.” He said motioning to a chair in front of his desk. “My people tell me you speak good Russian.” he said as they both sat down.
“I taught myself mostly Mr. President.” Chase said in the best Russian he could. He wasn’t unfamiliar with speaking with high ranking officials but this was the first time he had ever spoken one on one with a head of state. Aside from the president there were a few FSO agents, their version of secret service and standing right behind and left of the president was a Russian military officer. From what he could tell man was a Russian Army General, most likely his defense minister. He looked to be in his late 50s and wore a chest full of medals and decorations even bearing the Hero of the Russian Federation medal. To have Russia’s highest decoration, this man must be fairly important.
“So onto the events of 9 May.” He opened a file on the display on his desk. “My intelligence services tell me that you were not actually part of this plot and in fact that we owe you a measure of thanks. The Video shows you may have just saved Russia as we know it. However,” he shifted in his chair looking back to chase. “At this point in international relations decorating an American with a medal befitting of this isn’t in my best interest. Please don’t take this as an insult, the people of Russia are thankful for what you have done but I can use this event to great effect here and now.” Chase appreciated his straight forward approach. “Therefore I would like to offer you an alternative. Now I know your Ambassador has no doubt told you ask to reopen talks on the situation but I want to know what you want, personally.”
Chase wasn’t prepared for this question, what could he ask of the President of Russia. He thought for a moment. He was afraid of asking for something to big but wasn’t planning on wasting this on a KitKat bar. Then the thought hit him. He knew exactly what he wanted. It was crazy and he had no idea if he’d go for it.
“Mi-24 Hind helicopter tail number 102” Chase said with all the confidence as he could muster.
The President looked surprised, it was a very precise answer. The general behind him typed something into his wrist terminal then swiped his finger sending the information to the president’s screen. “So you want one of our old attack helicopters?” he continued down the page. “Ah, I see it is one of our live machines, why is this?”
“Mr. President, I’ve been wanting to learn to fly a helicopter and how better to learn than from a helicopter, and plus I’ve always admired the Hind.”
The general leaned in and said something in the president’s ear. “Whatever your reasons are, it’s all yours.” The President said applying his digital signature on a form which Chase could only assume was a transfer order.
Chase couldn’t believe that had just worked. He had just been given Anya. She was now his. Whatever fate she had been fearing was now gone. He couldn’t hide the astonishment “Thank you Mr. President.”
“I can imagine they will be reluctant to let you have an attack helicopter so I will agree to reopen talks on the Moldova situation on the terms you are allowed to have it. As you can assume this is now classified and unauthorized release of this information is now punishable. Although the public may never know what you’ve done Russia is in your debt.” President Putin stood and chase followed “Now if you will excuse me there are some things I have to discuss with your ambassador. General Milonovich will escort you and your shadow to Kubinka air base where you can collect your helicopter.” President Putin stood and chase followed. They exchanged a handshake and chase left the room followed by General Milonovich picking up his assigned agent as they exited and headed down an elevator to an underground garage.
The three got into an armored limousine and departed for Kubinka. “Chase,” General Milonovich said looking at Chase “you know you look very much like my son Vasily.” It clicked, Chase knew he recognized the name. Minister Milonovich was the man he had impersonated to get out of Kubinka. And this was no doubt his father. There was more. The Milonovich family was a very affluent family, one of the most powerful families in all of Russia, their power dating back to the Tsars. A family of politicians and generals. “So, tell me what’s your actual interest in this helicopter, I feel it’s more than what you told the president”
He had seen right through him. Chase’s face flushed with embarrassment. “Yes, there is.” He shifted in his seat. “Her and I.” He couldn’t really think of the proper way to put it.
“Had sex.” Milonovich finished.
Chase scratched his head. That was putting it bluntly but yes it was the truth. “Don’t worry, I don’t have any problem with it. In a way I understand the concept of being connected with your vehicle. During the Second Chechen war I was a T-80 tank operator. My tank became more of a comrade to me. Being in combat in one of those beasts, you develop a relation with it. I took care of my tank and it took care of me, she even had moods, I could tell when something was wrong. She never let me down even once. One time we even took a RPG to the engine and somehow that tank managed to take out a supply convoy and limp back to base. The mechs said there was no reason it should even run but somehow that tank got me back in one piece. A new engine and we were back in the fight. We’ve never actually been properly introduced. I am General of the Army Yuri Amolev Milonovich, Russian Defense Minister.” Shaking hands with chase.
“I’m glad they gave that helicopter to you. She was due to be retired and decommissioned. One of those birds saved my life once. Chechen mine took the tracks off my tank and there was a platoon of rebels closing down on us. Just as they were about to reach us, three Hinds rose over the hills in a most majestic fashion. It was beautiful, rockets, cannons, the heavy beating of the rotors, it was fit for a cinema. Saved our lives.”
“Well here we are.” Vadik said as him and Anya reached the large door of the helicopter maintenance hangar. “Open up!” he shouted as they came to a stop. The doors slid open, something didn’t seem right. There was a long black limo bearing Russian Federation fender flags. Vadik pulled her into the hangar and detached the tow bar.
A group of men emerged from one of the offices at the back of the hangar.
She heard the voice she thought she would never hear again, the one she had longed for.
“Chase?” She exclaimed as he moved through the crowd of uniforms and coveralls. “What are you doing here”
“You wont believe it.” Chase said affectionately placing his hand on her face. “Some things happened, big things.”
“General Milonovich.” she said as the officer approached, her military instinct kicking in.
“Hello Anya” General Milonovich said pleasantly “How are you doing”
“Sir, I’m not exactly sure whats going on”
“Your boy here did some big things for Russian and was asked if there was anything he wanted. He said he wanted you.” The General certainly had a way with words.
“Chase?” She said, turning to him, curious as to what he could have done to make a thing like this happen.
“I wasn’t sure what you would want but I remembered how much you were dreading retirement. Now you can make the decision. You can do whatever you want, your life is yours. You can go do whatever you want or you can come back to America and live with me”
“So you’re saying I can come to America with you?” Excitement filling her voice.
“Yes, if you want.”
She wrapped her tendrils around him and squeezed him tightly against her nose, knocking the air out of him and squishing his cheek against her glass cockpit.
She was overjoyed “Yes chase, I do. Take me away to America, we can be together there right?”
She lifted on her front gear and kissed him right on the mouth. “Chase I love you.”
General Milonovich was smiling as he watched the two young love birds. “You take care of her now” he said as they broke apart “she’s your helicopter now.”
“Will do General.”
“Anya will have to be de-militarized, luckily for you all her sights, systems and comm gear are just old enough that you can just have it as is however the cannon and rocket pods we’ll have to keep. It should take a few hours and then this beautiful helicopter is all yours”
He turned back to Chase “Oh, and if you ever find yourself in a situation in Russia any police chief will know this means you’re a friend of the right people in Russia.” He handed him a challenge coin. It was serialized and very intricate, bearing the symbol of General of the Army and Defense Minister on one side and the seal of the Russian Federation on the other side.
“In addition” he continued, “there is a hangar for you at the Moscow International Airport, an old KGB hangar, hasn’t been used since the 90s but it’s all yours as long as you’re in here. Well I have to get going. You two have a good day.” He turned and walked back to his limousine.
For the rest of the de-mil process Chase sat off to the side watching the technicians work, just admiring the helicopters attractive form.
“Are you ready to get outta here Anya” He said as they finally finished. “Shit, I forgot.” Chase said neglecting to introduce his shadow. “This is Special Agent Mike Falkner, he’s assigned to me because of what happened. To make sure I’m not a security risk.” He turned to the Special Agent “Agent Falkner this is Anya Mil, she’s a Mi-24 gunship helicopter.” Chase moved in a bit closer to her “and now my Mi-24 gunship helicopter” he liked saying that.
Let me report in” Falkner said pulling out his phone “then we can get over to Moscow int.”
As soon as Falkner stepped away chase felt a tap on the shoulder. He turned around and there was Leonid, one arm in a sling but otherwise completely fine, dressed this time in a suit and tie. “Good job chase, you pulled it off”
“Leonid, I can’t believe you made it out of there. They wouldn’t tell me what had happened to you.”
“It’ll take a lot more than them to off me. It seems they failed to kill me during the war and they wanted a rematch. You know, it’s possible these events will mean lots of changes in Russia, especially for your big friend over here. All that aside, I wanted to give you something.” He reached into the coat his coat pocket and removed an oddly shaped object wrapped in a gray cloth and handed it to chase. It was heavy and he could already tell it was a pistol. He unwrapped it just enough to see it was the FN 5.7 pistol he had used during the shootout. “You can’t carry it here in Russia but I figure back in America you could, kind of a memento. Oh and if you ever get tired of working for the US give me a call” He handed chase a business card that simply read “Leonid Petrov, export consultant” and then a number. He nodded to Chase then walked back the way he had come.
At that point Falkner had finished his call and returned. “Alright give it here” he said. Chase reluctantly handed over the cloth wrapped pistol. “Maybe, you can have this back when we get back to the states.”
They made their way out to the runway. It felt weird to Chase that she was his now.
“Go ahead climb in.” She said opening the cockpit door. It was the happiest he’d ever been climbing up the side of this helicopter and taking his seat in the pilot’s chair. “That seat, it’s yours now. I’m yours now” she said, “I promise, I’ll never let anything happen to you my love”.
© 2015 “DELTA X3” Account owner
All rights reserved. No part of these works may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author.
© 2015 DELTA X3
-Personal journal entry 451: 8 May 2022
I took leave for the week to see the Victory Day parade in Red. They’re having a preview day where they will be having static displays of a lot of the vehicles and weapons systems that will take part in the Parade tomorrow. Being an American in Moscow at the moment isn’t the easiest thing but I can speak the language and I’ll have Leonid with me in case any problems should arise (he’s ex-Spetsnaz). Pretty excited for the parade tomorrow, from what I’ve been told it’s quite an event.
“Leonid!” Chase shouted trying to find the only person he knew in this massive crowd of people. The two had been separated by a mob of people swarming across the square leaving him almost alone amongst the aircraft on display in the square.
“Loose something American?” He heard a female voice say from behind him.
‘Was it that obvious?’ he thought to himself. Alone, he hesitantly turned around expecting to be verbally assaulted yet again and this time without Leonid there to get the assailant off his back. To his amazement it was not in fact a “person” at all but one of Russia’s Mi-24P attack helicopters, one of the “living machines” as they had come to be called. This was not his first time encountering one but somehow they always managed to surprise him and this time he stood face to face with a mighty Hind.
“You looking for someone?” she repeated as he caught himself staring at her.
“Yes umm. Da” he tried piecing together his best Russian “Leonid Melonivich, white, 1.9 meters” his voice tapered off as he realized how futile it was trying to describe him to a stranger.
“We can talk English if you like, mine is not bad” which was true despite the thick Russian accent “I do not get to practice much but I will try.”
Chase was relieved, she seemed friendly. He was intrigued, this was a Hind, an extremely effective attack helicopter and a personal favorite of his and now one was having a conversation with him. A difficult thing to wrap his mind around to say the least.
“I lost the person I came with in that big crowd”
“He’s probably over looking at the new Ka-113X with everyone else” she replied, her mood souring a little “you could go and watch the demonstration and find him”
“I’d rather not, too many people and I’ve seen the 113X on the internet and I don’t really like the look personally. I’d really rather wait here and talk to the first Hind I’ve ever met” she seemed to perk up a little “I’m guessing you don’t like the 113?” he said.
“No, I guess I’m just a little, how do you say it, envious” she said, a little embarrassed that she had been so transparent “It’s just that it’s the 113’s first show and it’s my last, they’re retiring me after this year. The golden eagles will be all Havocs after this one”
“I don’t see how they could do that” Chase said “you’re a legacy, the foundation of Russian attack helicopters. Mi-24s are without rival the best and definitely best looking helicopters they’ve ever made” he noticed he had begun to get over excited but then noticed what else he had done. This was one for the books, he had actually made a Hind blush, or the machine equivalent.
Their conversation carried on for over an hour ranging from war theory to personal past, to preferred ways to un-jam a DshK. Her name was Anya, last remaining Hind in service in the Russian Air force Golden Eagle aerial show team. He couldn’t help but feel bad for her every time she mentioned her imminent retirement. Were it his choice such a prize bird would never be forgotten.
He noticed a figure walking towards them “There he is” Chase said “it’s an honor getting to talk to you Anya, I wish we had more time.”
She paused a second considering something “If you want a more personal tour you could come to my hanger tonight.”
“Definitely” he replied concealing his excitement.
“Go to the Barrikadnaya Metro station at Midnight”
“There you are!” Leonid exclaimed in Russian as he approached the two “don’t get lost like that, can’t have you getting mugged.” He joked,not acknowledging Anya which wasn’t uncommon in Russia, the living machines were not held in the same regard as in the US, they had yet to really accept them as more than the machines they once were, a growing point of friction in the State Duma.
“Let’s go, the party isn’t going to start itself.” and the two walked off. Chase hoped she was getting at what he thought she was. It was either that or he would get to the meeting spot and there would be a van of masked men with black bags waiting.
-Personal Journal entry 452: 7 May 2022
So I’ve been invited for an evening with a Mi-24 Attack helicopter named Anya. Crazy right? I don’t know what she has planned but I’m hopefully optimistic. It could be the FSB trying to nab up an embassy guard but that’s not likely… I hope.”
Chase stood at the metro entrance, wrapped tightly in his “soviet special” double breasted overcoat and off brand beanie. Leonid had advised against him going out alone at night but this was worth the risk, an evening with that helicopter.
The street was nearly deserted when he saw a set bright lights coming his way accompanied by the roaring of a heavy engine. Breaks squealed loudly as the BRDM 2 scout car came to a rapid stop in front of him. “Are you Chase?” a voice said in Russian. It took him a second to process it but the voice came from the vehicle itself. ‘Another living machine?’ Chase thought to himself, two in one day was quite a stretch but at least it wasn’t a black van with head bags. “We haven’t got all day crawl in, Anya sent me.”
Chase nodded and crawled up the side of the armored car and into the side seat.
The machine had a rough deep russian voice “I am Vadik. A friend of Anya’s”
“She sent you to come get me? Where is she?” a few hundred dollars of language software finally paying off.
“Believe it or not American, this may be Russia but landing a helicopter in the middle of a street draws attention here also.”
Chase nodded, thinking of it now, it made sense.
“She is at the Kubinka air base.”
“How do you know her?” He had to shout, hardly able hear himself think over Vadik’s engine
“Her and I have been at Kubinka for a long time. My model has not seen combat in a long time so I just pull planes around. I once pulled an An-225 solo” personal pride filling the scout car’s voice. “It shouldn’t be too long before were there, put on the helmet if you value your hearing.”
They drove for just over an hour until they reached the airbase.
“Stay quiet.” Vadik said as they rolled up to the gate. A guard stepped out of his box. “Open the gate you drunk Siberian bastard!” Vadik shouted at the guard.
The guard casually walked to his front raising his chin in defiance “And why should I let you in you old hunk of scrap metal?”
“Because if you don’t I’m going to run you over and use you to paint the runway.”
They both stared at one another for a moment then erupted in laughter “Get your ass out of here before you rust all over everything.” the guard replied as he hit the button opening the heavy metal gate. Vadik’s engines roared as he rolled through the gate.
“alright we’re in” Vadik said his tone becoming serious “just be careful who you tell of this, whatever you two do, remember that in Russia any relations between two Living machines is forbidden and even more so between the living machines and humans.”
They drove through the open door of a well-lit hanger and Chase climbed out. There she was, he hadn’t been able to take his mind off her all day.
“Chase! I’m glad you came!” she said smiling as he jumped down. “Thanks for this Vadik.”
“No problem, anything for you krasavitsa.” Vadik said backing out.
Chase stood there looking at her unable to wipe the cheesy smile from his face.
“I wasn’t sure you would actually come. I can’t tell you how glad I am you did.” she said smiling at him “I got something for this evening” she motioned to a table with a tall glass bottle of Plinkova Elite Vodka.
Chase walked over and picked up the elaborately simple bottle “Isn’t this stuff like 800 dollars a bottle?”
She nodded “Da, Russians make the best vodka”
The bottle hissed as Chase broke the seal. Slowly he poured he poured the clear liquid into the glass and put it to his lips. At the first sip the elite quality of this vodka was evident.
“You like?” she asked.
“I’ve never had anything this expensive before, it’s amazing.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“So about this personal tour, what exactly does that entail?”
“What do you want to see?”
Chase took off his overcoat and gloves and placed them on the table “You don’t mind if I get more comfortable, I’ve never toured a hind and I take my tours very seriously.” This made her smile. He finished the glass of vodka as he loosened his tie. She shifted anxiously as he began unbuttoning his white undershirt. Two hours a day at the gym had finally paid off, showcasing for Anya a toned fit physique.
“You take care of yourself well.” she said “The human body is such a beautiful thing, it’s a shame you all keep them covered up.”
“We don’t have the benefit of armor plating” Chase replied slipping out of his trousers.
She licked her lips as she looked him from head to toe. “In Russia it’s difficult for a vehicle to find a human willing to take the risk of being caught with a machine but to find one like you is beyond dreaming. Is this more common in America?”
“It’s not against the law like it is here. People have come to accept machines but most would still not have intimate relations with a machine, just us lucky few who see the beauty in the machines we meet.”
“So tell me have you been with machines before?”
“A few” he replied.
“You know Chase” she said “This may be my last chance for love, I don’t know what they have planned for me after this parade is over. So do this one thing for me. Make love to me, make love to me like you never have before.” She sounded almost desperate for it and this was a request he would most willingly grant.
He slowly walked up to her and took a knee moving his mouth to hers. He was amazed, her lips were soft and smooth not at all what he expected of an armor plated helicopter like her. Her lips parted as he pressed his to hers and could already feel the warmth of her mouth as his tongue entered and was met by hers. Her hot breath was against his face as he tasted her tongue. Her mouth had a metallic sweetness to it a taste he quickly came to love. It was a wonderful feeling kissing this helicopter.
She could have easily covered his entire face with her tongue but she wanted him to enjoy this as much as she was so she just allowed the end to dance with his, occasionally allowing it to slip into his mouth just a bit and feel around the inside of his lips and cheeks then even deeper into his mouth. She had to make sure not to go to deep remembering humans used their mouths to breathe.
Chase was intrigued by the taste, it was intoxicating and strangely addictive causing this kiss to last for over ten minutes of oral exploration. He had to be cautious of her razor sharp teeth, she was a predator after all, and a dangerous one at that, but also one who had chosen him to be a lover for the night.
A few seconds of deep breathing were required for Chase to catch his breath after they broke contact. She enjoyed humans, there was something more to them than making love to a machine. They were soft and flexible and had an interesting taste to them, a taste that she indulged herself with every chance she got. Long slender mechanical tendrils extended from her underbelly, supporting him as she leaned him back. She extended her heavy gray tongue, putting it at his belly button and slowly began drawing it up his body, over his chest and along the ridge of his neck finally ending at the tip of his chin. She rolled her tongue back into her mouth savoring the taste “I’m going to enjoy this.”
She let him return to his feet “Is it customary in America to start with oral?”
Chase laughed, she had been watching too much American porn. He went over and grabbed his overcoat from the table and laid it on the ground “Is it customary in Russia to return the favor” he said removing his boxers and laying on his coat, propping himself up on his elbows.
Seeing a Mi-24 bearing down on you with such deliberate intent is a profound experience and an experience seldom survived, then add a set of eyes fixed on the target, ready to strike. Anya bowed down on her front landing gear, raised her tail end in the air and moved in between his legs. She slid her tongue up along his inner thighs allowing his package to rest momentarily on her tongue and licked all the way up his shaft until the tip of her tongue met the tip of his erection then took the whole thing in her mouth. He let his head fall back closing his eyes as she began to work magic with that tongue of hers.
“Mmmh you’re good at this.” Chase said leaning up and rubbing his hand on her cheek as she kept at it. He’d been with a couple cars, a battle tank, an IFV and a rather peculate Mig-35 but there was something special about having this Soviet era warbird in his lap. This was a different level of enjoyment. “Whoa there, let’s not end this before it ever get started. Now it’s my turn.” He pulled himself from her maw a string of thick airplane saliva trailing it.
“Step back” she said “let’s make this more comfortable”. With a whirring of servos her rotors shifted, moving until they all pointed to her tail, locking in place with a series of mechanic clicks. Then to Chase’s surprise, folding her wing under she rolled onto her side, exposing her tender gray underbelly.
“You know how long I’ve wanted to be with a Hind?” he said as he ran his fingers along her belly feeling her body, admiring her unique form. Occasionally he felt the sanded over indentation of a bullet impact. In this vulnerable position he had almost neglected to remember she was a seasoned veteran of combat the world over.
“Even before machines came to life I was in love with them, I wanted one to hold for myself, to touch, to feel, and now I’m here about to make love to one.” He came to a stop between her landing gear feeling the soft wet lips of her vagina. This was it, his dreams would come true tonight with this bird. He knelt down and could already heel the heat emanating from her and the droplets of fluid at the edges indicated she was already aroused. Slowly he closed his eyes extended his tongue, moving his face closer and closer until his tongue met the wet lips of this Hind’s pussy. He could begin to taste her as his tongue penetrated. It was glorious, he had to open his mouth to allow his tongue to enter to its fullest then, closing his mouth he began to suck her tender lips, his tongue writhing about as trying to find something in the dark. He could feel Anya, a full size gunship, begin to squirm as he went down on her, making out with her nether regions. She could feel every movement his tongue made inside her sending intense bolts of pleasure through her nervous system. He then pulled out a littler and began running his tongue slowly up and down the length of her opening, her hot grey fluids seeping into his mouth making him light headed as the chemicals in her fluids interacted with his physiology causing his body to vamp up the production of endorphins which made him slip into a state of euphoric bliss as he continued to service her. Feeling her soft synthetic tissues against his skin was increasingly arousing causing g drops of pre cum to fall from him onto the wheel of her landing gear. As soon as he was satisfied with his work he withdrew from her, his face covered in her lubricants, thick drops dripping from his chin.
“I don’t think you’re done yet” she said, throwing courtesy to the wind and grabbing his head with her tendrils, tilting it to the side and forcing his face into her vagina, sinking his mouth chin and nose into her. He willingly played along, his tongue lapping at her sensitive insides. Anya bit her lip to stop herself from yelling aloud, this was a special treat for her and knew she could get away with it, she could tell he was deep within her thralls.
She released him “So how did you like that moy lyubovnik?” she said as he caught his breath. He just smiled at her, his face glossed with her lubricants.
He came to his feet. He would make her pay for that and pay dearly. “Oh, you like games do you, well try this one on for size.” He took the fingers of his left hand and began massaging her clit immediately rendering her incapable of saying anything further as she groaned with pleasure. He took his other hand and began rubbing it up and down the opening of her dripping wet pussy. “What about this” he said as he grasped her clit between his palm and fingers rubbing it vigorously. She wasn’t able to hold it after this and let out a deep moan of pleasure. Fearing someone might hear her she quickly stifled herself, gritting her teeth together. Now, satisfied with his work he decided it was time for the good part.
Removing his hand from her clit he fed both hands into her slit and began massaging both sides “Anya, are you ready to get this started”. With a smile she nodded. Using both hands he spread her lips apart and placed his rock hard cock in the opening then let the sides go, her engorged lips slapping together on its length. He put one foot on the wheel of her bottom landing gear and grasped the bar of opposing landing gear for support.
Slowly he pushed himself deep inside her until his waist squished against her pussy, feeling the warmth of her wrapped around him was like nothing he had ever felt before. He moved in and out of her with such ease. Slowly pulling half way out then going as deep as he could, repeating the process over and over, going gently on her. Using his free hand he started playing with her clit and again she began to moan and squirm. ‘Well, Hinds do have a weak spot.’ he thought to himself.
He was amazed by her level of resistance, any normal girl would have come by now, even a machine. Thinking about it he was surprised he hadn’t yet either, so far the sex with her had been heads above the rest. Female machines had a unique aspect to their reproductive organs.
The inside of the vagina was laced with millions of adaptive nerve dendrites that would provide her the same amount of stimulation from Chace’s human member as that of a girthy T-90 tank.
“Are you going to play around all night or are you actually going to fuck me” she said beckoning for more “Trust me you can’t hurt me, do your worst, fuck me as hard as your heart desires.” Chase accepted her challenge and kicked it into high gear “As you wish my dear.” Thrusting as hard as he could into this gunship his waist slapped against her underbelly, drops of sweat rolling down his back as he proceeded to make love to her with an intensity she had never experienced from a human before. He used every bit of strength he had to give her exactly what she wanted and was satisfied to gear her moans of pleasure echo through the empty hanger. Her tendrils embraced him holding him tightly to her body one running its manipulator “fingers” through his hair.
He didn’t want this sensation to end but he could feel the climax coming so he slowed his thrusts hoping to delay the inevitable. His grip on her landing gear tightened as the tremors of the climax began to shoot through him. “Chase don’t fight it, cum in me”. The both of them could feel this climax coming, Chase had no idea how but somehow he could tell, as if he could feel what she was feeling. As he felt the climax arrive he felt something new something he hadn’t felt with any other machine or human he had been with. The feeling was like nothing he could describe. It seemed to spread across his entire body occupying every fiber of his being. He wondered if this was the bond that he’d heard of. It had to be, nothing else could explain how he felt in this moment. He could already feel somehow connected to her and a desire to be intertwined with her forever. His body quivered as he deposited his entire load inside her. He could feel her airframe shake as she to felt the intensity of the orgasm they seemed to be having together. Unlike him she knew what this meant, the two would be bonded, the touch of another would never feel the same, and they would long for each other every second of the day. This would make their separation unbearable but it also meant she had finally met someone compatible with her, what humans would call a sole mate.
Chase could hardly stand, his head still clouded with euphoria, her fluids slowly rolling down his legs as they separated “was that…” he said running out of breath half way through.
“Yes, I believe it was moya dorogaya”
“What does that mean?”
“That we were made for each other”
It took him a minute to process this. She released him from her grasp “So did you enjoy that” she said moving back onto her landing gear and turning to face him once again.
“Anya, there aren’t words in either of our languages to describe what I just felt.” He said walking to her face and placing a kiss on the glass of her cockpit.
“So the real question is are you ready for round two?” She certainly was relentless.
After two hours, three climaxes and every ounce of energy between the two they fell asleep on a mattress they had stolen from a crew ready room.
Chase awoke to the roar of a flight of Migs taking off on the runway just outside. The early morning sun bathed the inside of the hangar in bright light, forcing him to squint as he looked around the hangar. It was difficult to remember if last night had actually happened or not but he could feel a weight from something pressing on his body. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the light and what appeared to be a Hind came into view. Anya had fallen asleep with her chin resting on his chest. He couldn’t bear waking her so he just watched her sleep, glad last night hadn’t been just a dream.
He heard the hangar door begin to slide open sending panic through him and rousing Anya from her sleep. What would someone say if they walked in on him laying naked with the Hind. Let out a sigh if relief when he saw the angular hull of a BRDM 2 roll through the door.
“Good morning Vadik.” Anya said pleasantly as he closed the large door behind him.
“Anya” he said a sense of urgency in his voice “your aircrew just came through the gate, we’ll have to get him out of here before they get here which is about 15 minutes.”
“Looks like there’s no time for a long goodbye” she said to Chase as she moved off him “I hope this isn’t the last time we’ll see each other.” there seemed to be a hint of a question at the end of her sentence.
“I’m going to visit you every chance I get.” Chase said redressing himself and wiping away the remnants of their love making.
“I hate to break you two up” Vadik butted in “but we have to find a way to get him out of here. They’re doing the checks at the gate both in and out because of the parade. We’ve been having officers and state officials arriving all morning so security is tight.”
Vadik and Anya stared at Chase trying to create a plan on how to smuggle him out.
“You know who he looks like…” Anya said.
“Don’t even think it.” Vadik replied.
“Admit it he looks just like him.”
“What are you two talking about?” Chase said a little confused.
“Anya thinks you could pass off as Minister Milonovich, but bad idea, very bad idea.” Vadik said.
“Well it’s either that or have him go to the gate guard and say” she switched to a sarcastic accented english “Good morning comrade gate guard. I just snuck onto your airbase to have a booty call with one of your helicopters. Would you be so kind as to let me out?”
“Anya, you’re lucky you’re my favorite. Alright Chase grab that vodka bottle, get in, put your collar up and don’t say anything.” Vadik said turning to Chase “Try to act hangover. Minister Milonovich is known for being a drinker.”
“I guess I’ll see you at the parade today.” Chase said looking to Anya.
“I’ll be watching for you. After the show I’ll be doing display again come see me then.” Anya said. Chase could tell she didn’t want to part but then again neither did he.
They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment “A kiss for good luck”
“Knock em’ dead Anya” He said then giving her a lingering kiss before being broken up by Vadik. “Alright you two we have to go.” Chase reluctantly got in and they exited the hangar.
They approached the exit gate which was manned by a different guard than the night before “Now where are you going?” the burly guard asked as they approached.
“Red square, I have a discrete VIP.”
“That kind of defeats the purpose of discreet.”
The guard returned an armor splitting glare.
“Whatever, see for yourself.”
The guard slung his AK and crawled up, peering in the crew area. Chase was propped up against the side, appearing to be asleep with the bottle of vodka in his lap. The guard was surprised at who he thought he saw but not surprised as to why he would chose a more discrete mode of transportation such as this “Alright carry on.”
The heavy metal gate screeched open and they exited.
“Thanks for everything Vadik.” Chase said sitting up straight in the seat. “You seem to be a sort of care taker for her.”
“I take care of all the living aircraft at Kubinka. Anya can be impulsive from time to time so I have to help her out with things sometimes. She’s still my favorite though.”
“Have you and her ever…you know…”
“Once or twice, we all have needs.”
They stopped a few blocks from red square where he was to meet Leonid in an hour “I doubt this is the last time we’ll be seeing each other so until next time dosvidaniya.”
Chase gave him a nod as he departed, Anya still on his mind.
A song came up that I thought very fitting for this story.
Dark eyes, burning eyes
Passionate and splendid eyes
How I love you, How I fear you
Verily, I saw you at a sinister hour
Dark eyes, flaming eyes
They implore me into faraway lands
Where love reigns, where peace reigns
Where there is no suffering, where war is forbidden
Dark eyes, burning eyes
Passionate and splendid eyes
I love you so, I fear you so
Verily, I saw you at a sinister hour
If I hadn’t met you, I wouldn’t be suffering so
I would have lived my life smiling
You have ruined me, dark eyes
You have taken my happiness away forever
Dark eyes, burning eyes
Passionate and splendid eyes
I love you so, I fear you so
Verily, I saw you at a sinister hour
© 2015 “DELTA X3” Account owner
All rights reserved. No part of these works may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author.
Ratbat did longbow, I saw, I write, simple.
She runs over to him and takes the heavy girth if his cock in her hands feeling it’s steely weight then takes as much as she can into her mouth, swallowing the glob of pre hanging from the tip
She sucks and licks. Gulping down helpings of his silvery pre. As soon as she is out of breath, her face covered in silvery paste, he pushes the box under his airframe and lays her over it.
Without even undressing her he sends a tendril up her skirt and pulls her panties over her cheek, opening up the airways for a good targeting solution. Another tendril pulls her scarf off and pulls down her shirt stretching the collar enough for her non-bra-wearing breasts to fall free. He squeezes and squishes them moaning to himself with the thought of her tender loins.
Another probes her dripping pussy, providing reconnaissance for the main attack. He draws his throbbing machine cock closer and closer to the opening until it’s wet tip touches her sensitive lips.
He can feel her shiver as it touches. Very slowly he pushes, her lips spreading to receive the hefty girth. She winced as it stretches her, the head finally entering her small body. The rest of the shaft following feeling her body squeezing him into the tight opening.
Gradually he moves deeper and deeper until he reaches the end. Careful not to cause her any discomfort he withdraws and readies for another stroke. As soon as he reaches to where only his head remains in her he pauses, allowing her to catch her breath before pressing himself in again. Gradually he develops a rhythm of in and out, wet squishes and gushing pre coming from each thrust.
His pace increases bit by but as he feels her becoming more accustomed to his girth. He presses his bottom to her back rubbing up and down her soft sweater and crushing the edges of the box beneath them.
He begins to feel his climax coming and his thrusts become harder, a distinct shake running through his airframe. Her body is jolted along with his mad thrusting, inching him closer and closer to cumming.
He finally peaks and with a final trembling thrust begins gushing hot loads of thick cum deep into her body. It fills her small space and begins pushing out around his dick, squirting out, her skirt acting like a splash guard and catching a majority of it the hot liquid. Some runs down her leg and into her shoes soaking her socks like a water ride at Disneyland.
They both remain there trembling and shaking form the shared orgasm, neither wanting to move.
Slowly he withdraws inch by inch until his head comes free, unleashing a stream of cum onto the runway.
Without saying anything he turns her over pulls her tight to his airframe and places the rose in her hair.
© 2015 “DELTA X3″ Account owner
All rights reserved. No part of these works may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author.
Delta came up with the name “Dina” So before I knew about this I put “Duscha” as a working title. (my track record for female Russian names isn’t so good..) But under female baby names Duscha I read means : soul; sweetheart; term of endearment. Its also a play on words because shes Dual wielding 2 DShk 50 cal heavy machine guns also nicknamed the “Duscha”.
“The terrorists were surprised to find that while it was publicly known that Chase Weber had a daughter, none could believe that this daughter was in fact partly to his Helicopteress miss Anya Mil. Standing 12 feet tall, with a massive rotor blade and a tail that swished like a cat, the assailants where unprepared. When they broke into the office, the daughter shot all but one to the last man with the hugest guns anyone has ever seen wielded in both hands. The final man was taken into custody and questioned.”
Please don’t make me give her bigger tits delta..pleaaasee. Xo
This story was an RP written before the knowledge of Atoll Lab was told and is based loosely upon the picture ; http://www.titanatelier.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/06/Kamov3.jpg
story by CerebralError:
The blinding snow whipped around the nondescript hangar in the middle of the frigid Siberian airfield, piling in steep drifts along the sides of the building. No planes ever seemed to enter or leave it or the other hangars – at least not under the watchful eyes of America’s KH-11 spy satellites – and the decayed state of the runways and base facilities had lead those that cared to write the base off as abandoned, a leftover of the nearly bankrupt and unstable post-Soviet military. However, this would have been far from the truth. The simple matter was that the aircraft serviced inside the hangar had no need for a runway, and the Russians were well aware of the Keyhole satellite’s flight path. All personnel were instructed to be inside at set periods of the day, under threat of death, to keep the anonymity of the base secure.
Tucked inside the hangar was a single helicopter, at first glance a Ka-50 ‘Black Shark’ attack helicopter, comparable in function to the American AH-64 ‘Apache’. But upon closer inspection, the helicopter was somewhat smaller than a full sized Ka-50, and shorter in length, almost like it had been slightly squashed from nose to tail. Looking even closer, the boxy, angular fuselage was expanding and contracting ever slightly, rhythmically. The helicopter was -breathing-. Down at its nose, a visible mouth was slightly parted, the sound of turbines winding up and down with each inhale and exhale. Just above the mouth, around where the base of the cockpit met the fuselage, a thin seam was visible where the helicopter’s eyes were, closed as they were in its slumber.
Kamov shifted slightly in his sleep, the seams in his biosteel flexing and popping lightly as he shuffled into a more comfortable position.
The relative silence of the hangar was soon interrupted as the overhead lights came on in long, fluorescent strips. The harsh light filled the large room. “Kamov!” called a woman’s voice, in the same way one might call to one’s best friend – the kind of friend it’s okay to insult. “Wake up, you lazy thing!” The speaker walked out into the hangar with the loud clack of boot heels on hard concrete. “You were supposed to be awake and getting breakfast half an hour ago, you lazy machine. How do you think it looks on our reports when you’re late? It looks horrible, that’s how – almost as horrible as you!”
The woman wore what looked like a cold-weather uniform – A heavy greenish jacket, with equally heavy and equally greenish pants, furred at the collar and cuffs. Her heavy black boots were also furred around the cuffs, and shone like black mirrors. Even though she possessed a nametag, it read only ‘RUSALKA’ with no rank or forename given. She was pretty enough, in a rugged sort of way – strong chin and heavy cheekbones, with dishwater blond hair pulled into a tight bun, eyes so dark it was hard to tell if they were blue or brown as she flipped the hood on the jacket off.
“Don’t make me use the air raid siren, Kamov, you know I’ll do it!”
As each bulb buzzed and then snapped to brightness, more details of the Ka-50 emerged. The bright red Russian star emblem on his tail. The drooping contra-rotating rotors that emerged from the top of his fuselage, competely eliminating the need for a tail rotor. The green, tan, and black of his camoflauge pattern. Kamov’s eyes squeezed shut even tighter when the lights flooded over him, and only wearily cracked open at the sound of Rusalka’s voice, calling him a lazy and horrible machine. He knew she was only joking, the two of them were about as close as anyone could be. They had to be, since she was his pilot, and he was her helicopter.
Kamov stretched again, his seams groaning and popping as he arched his tail up almost to the level of his rotors. The helicopter yawned deeply, his turbines winding up at the hearty intake of oxygen. His open mouth was full of sharp teeth, fitting for the nickname of ‘Akula’, Shark in the Russian tongue.
“You try sucking down cold fuel every morning, and see how enthusiastic you are…” He mumbled back, but he smiled and pushed himself up on his landing gear. “Did you sleep well, Rusalka?”
The woman watched the machine stretch and move on its own volition, the biosteel flexing and popping. To anyone else, it might have been an odd sight, but it was a sight Rusalka had known since she was created. She was as much an experiment as he was, in fact the same experiment. She took off the heavy jacket – it was cool in the hangar, but not cold, and revealed that for all the helicopter’s odd biological appearance, she was little better. She wore only a tank-top, because it was all she could wear, with the metal plating along her back and the two odd ‘fins’ near her shoulder barely allowing the jacket to fit.
She approached the helicopter and trailed a hand up his side, feeling the pleasing warmth of his biosteel. “I suck down cold gruel every morning, Kamov, and I do it without complaining because I know everything is cold here. That is the downside of remote experimental bases in winter. It would not matter if your fuel were heated to just under explosive temperature, it would be frozen slush by the time it hit your tank,” she said with a smile. “I slept as well as could be expected. I wish they would let me resume sleeping in you, but they worry about too much exposure when linked, or some such nonsense.”
Kamov groaned, a metallic sound that echoed inside the hangar. “But it is -always- winter here, Rusalka.” That wasn’t completely true, but in Sibera, it might as well have been. “Couldn’t they have built our hangar down near the Black Sea? Or in Primorsky. It’s nearly tropical there!” He also grinned. The helicopter always bitched about the cold, but he wasn’t really complaining. He understood the need for this secrecy. Not even the Americans had a helicopter as advanced as he was. And if they did, they were keeping it and its pilot just as buttoned up as he was. Possibly in Alaska, somewhere. If so, that helicopter was probably bitching about the cold as well, and being softly chided by its pilot.
Kamov leaned into the gentle touch of her hand, smiling warmly. “I miss those nights too…” He said softly, remembering the feeling of wholeness he had when Rusalka slept within his biomechanical body, her thoughts and feelings linked to his. He dreamed of his pilot often, as he had before she had woken him. Even though he was considered a machine, a piece of highly experimental and classified equipment to the Russian Army, his biomechanical nature meant that he was, in some aspects at least, alive. He had thoughts, emotions, and as he had come to realize lately…needs and desires.
From beneath his fuselage, a snake-like manipulator arm emerged from inside, slithering out and up to clasp softly around Rusalka’s hand. “I dreamed again.” He said gently.
“Now that isn’t fair, it isn’t always winter here. Why two months ago it was absolutely a balmy summer – you could spit and it wouldn’t freeze until it was on the ground, I very nearly bought a bikini,” she replied with a grin. “You complain too much, Kamov. You know what the military says about wheels that squeak?” She leaned in close and whispered, “They say ‘A squeaking wheel? Destroy that vehicle it may give away our position!'” She laughed and patted what passed for a cheek on the helicopter. “Maybe one day they will assign us to proper duty and we will be allowed to go elsewhere, until then – drink your fuel you flying fool, or you’ll get the entire project in trouble.”
The two of them had been engineered as two parts of a single organism, a war device that was incomplete and weakened when they were apart. She had grown up beside Kamov, as he had ‘grown’ alongside her, and for much of her childhood, she had spent her nights sleeping in Kamov’s cockpit. It was no cockpit like in traditional vehicles – it was a tight space, warm around her. There were no controls, no viewports. Fleshy, yes, but in an odd way that she wasn’t sure she could put into words. The ports along her back plugged into ports of his own, and he became her eyes and ears and hands. He responded at her superior reaction time, and things were done before she could have worked mechanical controls. But lately the scientists had begun restricting her from sleeping in him. She wasn’t sure why, though she suspected they were simply afraid of what sleepwalking would do when one’s body was an attack helicopter.
When the manipulator extended and grasped her hand, she gave him a reassuring squeeze in return, and even pressed her cheek to the metal. “I know, Kamov. I dreamed too. Every night. This is wrong, and hopefully they will soon realize the stress it is causing and allow us to sleep properly.”
Kamov grinned at what she said, since she was also confined to this base just as much as he was. And he doubted that bikinis were a piece of clothing she could simply requisition. As it was, Kamov barely knew what a bikini was, only that it was a rather revealing article of woman’s clothing that was popular in warmer climates. He’d never seen one before, although he was certain that she would look beautiful in it. He was less inclined to laugh at her joke about squeaky wheels – it was something all too likely to be true – and the helicopter gulped softly. “Maybe someday, yes.” He nodded, “I promise to drink my -cold- fuel, Rusalka.”
Kamov brushed the warm biosteel of his canopy against her cheek, continuing to hold her hand. He could faintly feel the pulse of blood under her skin. “I dreamed about you.” He continued, another manipulator sliding out, this one touching the hem of her tank top. “It was…strange. But…exciting!” The helicopter’s tubrines whined as he started breathing a little heavier as he recalled more elements of his dream. Further back along the underside of his fuselage, beneath the weapons hardpoints and his engines, something started emerging. While it was doubtful that this had been part of his original design, one advantage of biomechanical airframes was the ability for the aircraft to ‘heal’ itself from damage received in flight. Somewhere along his development with Rusalka, Kamov’s airframe had developed this extension in response to his feelings for the pilot he had known ever since he had woken up years ago.
Rusalka leaned in close and rested her head on his for a moment. “Good boy,” she murmured in teasing praise, then placed a kiss on his metal hide. He had no blood to feel pulse, and no true circulatory system, but she could feel the soft hum of power through his biosteel skin, the little flexings and motions of a living creature. “You’ll manage to keep us out of trouble yet if you continue to act like this,” she teased, then she felt the touch of another manipulator arm on the hem of her tanktop, and heard the way he mentioned his dream… How it was strange. Exciting.
She flushed pinker than the cold had left her when she realized what he was saying. She was embarrassed… But she’d never hidden anything from Kamov. She couldn’t. They were too close when they were connected. Every thought was there. So she flushed, but she squeezed the manipulator again. “I… Dreamed too, Kamov. Strange and exciting. I dreamed of you above me, holding me, doing things to me… Things that you can’t do, but I dreamed of them anyway.” Then she heard something, saw some flicker of motion, and she looked further down the helicopter’s body. Her dark blue eyes went wide. “Oh…” She looked down at something that… Appeared to be some kind of phallus, emerging from where a weapons system was often mounted. “Oh my…” She looked from it to Kamov, confusion on her face. “Kamov, when did that… When did you get that?” she asked. There was awe in her eyes, surprise. But there was also that same confused feeling he had just divulged…
Kamov also couldn’t blush, lacking any means to do so. But he felt a rush as Rusalka admitted she had also dreamed, dreamed of the same things that he had, even though they had not been linked. He saw the surprise in her eyes as she looked beneath him, and Kamov grinned sheepishly, a rather surprising fact considering his shark-toothed grin. “I don’t know, Rusalka…” He confessed to her. “I noticed it a few days ago…but I didn’t know what it was for until the dreams.” Already, thick drops of fluid bubbled at the tip of the semi-mechanical phallus, dripping down onto the hangar floor below. It was somewhat clear, and looked similar to the ECL that surrounded her inside his cockpit. It throbbed eagerly, and Kamov’s turbines were a constant whine now, his actual engines engaged to bring in a constant draw of oxygen. The remaining two manipulators eased out now, one curling around her ankle, the other extending up to caress her cheek.
Kamov flexed again, pushing himself slightly against his pilot. “I want this, Rusalka.” He said, smiling. “And I think you do, too.”
“I see…” she murmured, still sounding shocked, still wide-eyed and staring. Her breathing mirrored his, without the whirr of turbines. It was growing deeper. Faster. Her body was reacting to this display in a way it had never reacted for the soldiers who occasionally tried to work their way into her pants, despite not quite being human like them. She knew how the dance went, she’d been educated, but she had never gone through the motions. She simply had no interest in such things… Until now. Until she felt Kamov’s warm biosteel against her.
It was seeing the thick, clear drops of ECL at the tip that finally snapped her out of it. The way it throbbed… She realized she was panting, and shook her head a bit to look Kamov in the face. She didn’t fight the manipulators, because she knew as well as he did that he was right. She turned her cheek against his manipulator, and then kissed it. “Not just this,” she answered with a smile. “Anyone, anything could give me penetration, simple sex.” She reached down with her free hand, reaching for her pants. The thick cold-weather pants were tightly belted, buckled, zipped. It took effort, but she got them undone one-handed, leaving herself prime to be undressed. “I want /you/, Kamov. I want my other half inside /me/ for once,” she joked with a faint blush. “But… Be gentle. You’re much stronger than I am, and we… Don’t know how you work yet,” she murmured, eying that protruding phallus-like construct…
Kamov smiled softly and watched Rusalka intently as his pilot reached down to slowly unbuckle her winter pants. Once the buckle and zipper were opened, one of the manipulators slid down and clasped around the waistband, giving those pants a firm tug down her legs, exposing her underwear and the smooth white flesh of her legs. Of course, he had seen much more of her body, she often wore nothing when she was inside him. But somehow, this was different. “I promise I will be gentle, Rusalka.” He vowed in the same tone as he had done when he promised to drink his fuel. He would never hurt her, -could- never hurt her… “I want you too…this feels -right-.” He growled softly. The manipulator holding her tank top began pulling it up, revealing both more smooth flesh, and shiny metal graftings.
Kamov was just improvising. Normally used to Rusalka giving commands and orders, and leaping at her thoughts, now the helicopter was operating on his own, and trying to be as gentle and caring as he could. With the dream fading, there was less and less of it he could try to draw back on. But, somehow, he could sense direction, almost like Rusalka’s thoughts guiding him on…or were they his own? The manipulators were strong enough to lift her, and he did so, carefully scooping Rusalka off her feet and maneuvering her beneath him. Not all the way to the throbbing, dripping phallus, not yet. But enough so that he could kiss her – awkwardly, his mouth too big and not shaped right for this, but tenderly, with all the love he could muster.
Rusalka gave a shiver as her heavy pants were dragged down from her waist, leaving her in her white underwear. Her skin was pale – in this cold, one didn’t get out in the sun, and she looked as white as her underwear. Her legs were strong, toned and fit, and they flexed as she kicked off the thick boots she wore, fumbling to rid herself of the thick socks as well by stepping on the toes and kicking away. Eventually she was rid of it all, and she unceremoniously kicked it aside as the arm across her chest lifted up on her tank top… Her pale skin shifted rosy pink near her nipples, with pink little areola and a firm nipple capping each breast. The metal seemed to almost grow out of her skin, and cupped her entire upper back, and even across her sides a bit. The same biosteel that covered Kamov, it was flexible, and warm to the touch, but the texture change could be shocking. Her bare breasts were high, firm, warm… And they bounced slightly as she was picked up off her feet and pulled beneath the helicopter.
She realized what he was doing when his mouth fell on hers. It wasn’t a great fit – his mouth was larger, and much more angular. But she still loved him for it, she still gave a soft sigh and returned the kiss as tenderly as it was given. She wrapped her arms around the helicopter’s undercarriage, pushing her mouth firmly to his despite the awkwardness, and as she adjusted, she felt something warm, slick under her foot… Her sole rested in a growing puddle of ECL near the throbbing, twitching biomechanical shaft Kamov sported. With a sudden flash of mischief, she put her other foot in it as well, getting both soles slick… Then raised her feet, brushing the now slick soles across the pulsing dark cock that until moments ago, she hadn’t even known existed…
Kamov looked at Rusalka’s increasing nudity with a new perspective, no longer merely a sign of readiness for training. The firmness of her breasts, the warmth of her pale skin, the crisp pink of her nipples, the contrast of soft flesh and toned muscle beneath. He wasn’t shocked by the difference in texture between her skin and the biosteel that made up her implants. In fact, Kamov paid the ‘seam’ between her skin and the metal extra attention with the little claws at the end of each manipulator arm. He also slithered one of the deft manipulators up her smooth stomach to touch her breast, experimentally squeezing it.
He kissed her again, loving the warmth of her skin against his as she wrapped herself around him, especially in the coolness of the hangar. Kamov growled softly, a metallic rumble through his fuselage, before his eyes suddenly shot open at the feeling of one of her feet…then both of her feet, along the sides of his shaft. Kamov’s turbines revved, and the helicopter shuddered, her touches rewarded by a fresh spurt of warm ECL that spattered against her thighs and belly.
Rusalka shivered softly as Kamov’s manipulator arms made their way across that seam, giving a soft gasp. It was like a series of little static shocks all up and down the biosteel plate in her back when he did that, and she arched slightly beneath the helicopter as he teased her there. She let out a breathy laugh and kissed at Kamov’s steel skin again, giving an approving ‘Mmm, yes!’ when that manipulator hand slid up her flat, trim belly to her breast. She arched more sharply at that touch, her warm feet stroking softly back and forth across the shaft beneath the aircraft, teasing him but not giving him the kind of regular stroking that could lead to overexcitement.
It still led to excitement though, and as she began to frantically kiss at her other half, raining kisses across his mouth and metal skin, she felt the warm lubricant splash against her smooth skin and giggled a girlish laugh as she swatted playfully at his fuselage as it rumbled. “Such a messy machine. Perhaps you should try to keep that from happening, hmm?” she asked with a smile as she practically cuddled against the aircraft’s undercarriage. “In fact, yes – I think for every time I feel ECL splash out onto me, I’ll just get slower with these,” she said mischievously, and for several seconds her soft, warm feet stopped moving against Kamov’s phallus-like protrusion entirely before resuming… Much more slowly. “Waste nothing, Kamov,” she continued with a teasing tone before kissing him again, ignoring the shark-like teeth in his mouth to flick her tongue in with a soft moan.
Kamov responded to her eager approval, much like how he responded to her commands when flying, squeezing at her other breast with the manipulator, before bringing the one around from her back to play with both breasts at the same time. He held her warm body close as she arched against him. Kamov’s fuselage creaking and popping as he shifted and flexed as he felt her feet sliding back and forth along his ELC-slicked shaft. “Rusalka…!” He gasped over the sound of his winding turbines, squeezing his eyes shut again. “That’s…not f-fair!” He protested feebly, before being silenced by her kiss, her small tongue slipping inside his mouth. Kamov returned the gesture, his much larger tongue easily filling her mouth. While the helicopter was more than strong enough to force himself upon Rusalka, he couldn’t do that, not yet.
He fought to control the pulses of ECL as his shaft throbbed wildly beneath Rusalka’s slow-moving feet. “You are cruel, Rusalka.” He said, although there was no malice in those words, just burning desire.
The blond was trying to hide her own eagerness as she felt Kamov’s warm manipulator hands sliding around her… She hugged him back, trembling as his own biosteel slid across the plating on her back as he moved the manipulator hands over her body. The creaking, popping and metallic sounds as he shifted above her were pleasant to her ears – the sounds of her other part. She held herself to him as much as he held her, body pressing warmly to his metal skin as she softly, slowly stroked that length… Her feet slid languidly up and down, pressed to either side. Her toes wriggled against the ‘skin’ of it as she worked his member, and when his much larger, thicker tongue filled her mouth, her feet picked up in speed, becoming much faster and firmer, but much less smooth in their motion as the aircraft’s tongue pressed hers aside to feed into her mouth. She blushed, but she accepted it with a certain eagerness, moaning around it as she tried to fit as much as she could into her mouth.
When he pulled away to call her cruel, she grinned and stroked along his fuselage with both hands, arching to make her firm breasts easier targets for the surprisingly gentle hands on the end of his manipulators. “Mmm… You call me cruel, but I can feel you… You’re throbbing like mad against my toes, my love,” she teased, almost kicking – that was how hard she was working her feet along that thick artificial shaft. “You complain like always, but you like it, I can feel it. Be good, Kamov, and it will be better in the end if you are anything like I have heard human men are, I promise – I wouldn’t leave half of myself with no pleasure at all, would I?”
Kamov rumbled again, trying his best to not release another spurt of fluid as Rusalka’s feet moved with speed and friction, flares of delight erupting inside. He partially succeeded, not spurting across her stomach, but instead releasing a thick dribble for a few seconds that pooled on the hangar floor beneath them. His airframe alternately sagged and tensed, sending shudders through his rotor blades.”Yes, Rusalka…” Kamov panted, before he kissed her again with metallic firmness. His two manipulators eased down from her breasts, across her stomach, and down between her legs. One gently, but firmly, pulled one of her legs aside, and the other slithered across her sex, gliding back and forth along the entirity of her slit.
The grin that Kamov gave her was smug, even though it might have not been ‘being good’ as she had instructed of him. “If I get to be teased, then so do you.” He growled again, leaning forward slightly until her bottom rested in the pooling ELC, the helicopter gently pinning her to the floor. This freed up the remainder of his manipulator arms, one of them winding out to its fullest length and dragging some sandbags over to pile up behind Rusalka, giving her a rough ‘cushion’ to lay against. The other went down and pulled her other leg aside, giving him better access to her slit.
The woman could feel the dribble of ECL that the aircraft released in the way it made the thick cock-like structure underneath her soles pulse and swell in a pleasantly organic way. The way his heavy frame flexed, tensed and relaxed above her made her feel… Pleased. That she had made him do that without piloting him. When he kissed her again, she kissed back heatedly. She’d found that the best way to approach kissing him wasn’t to try to press lips to lips, but to press tongue to tongue, and she welcomed his thick, strong tongue into her mouth again as she gazed up at the helicopter lovingly. She felt his manipulators leave her breasts and sink lower, but even though she was prepared, she still was shocked by the feel of his warm metal against her folds.
The way he pulled her leg aside pulled her foot away from his phallus-like protrusion and left her simply rubbing her other foot along the underside of the helicopter’s prick as she gasped and arched sharply, pressing her wet, slick folds against his metallic ‘arm’ as it teased her. “I’ll get you back for that in the air,” she replied with a grin, even as her words broke into another moan. For all her urges to be the pilot and control the situation, control him, she realized as he pushed forward until she was gently pinned beneath the aircraft’s warm, metallic bulk that she was more aroused by the way he’d just behaved… His tugging her legs aside pulled her other foot away from his shaft, leaving it untouched and dripping ECL freely as she squirmed against the sandbags, working herself into a more comfortable position as the lubricant her helicopter had leaked warmed her rump against the coolness of the concrete. “So big and strong,” she murmured. “You make me so proud to be part of you, Kamov. Will you show me how strong you are, Kamov? Will you show me how disciplined and careful you can be?” she asked urgently. “I’ve had enough teasing – I want you, Kamov, I want you inside me for once. Let me feel that, but carefully. I was made strong, but you are far stronger, my love.”
Kamov’s fuselage flexed from side to side, his tail boom arching up. The growl that rumbled through his body was nearly constant now, a sound that Rusalka might recognize from the dogs around the base as a sound of possession. Kamov didn’t even seem to be aware that he was making such a sound, and if he did, he seemed rather okay with it. Kamov lifted himself slightly, shuffling forward on his landing gear until the tip of his heavy shaft probed at the entrance of her slit. He pulled the manipulator arms away, and instead coiled them around parts of her body. One snaked around her leg, another curled up just beneath her breasts, the third around her wrist, and the last slid up onto her belly. Eased on by his lover’s words of praise and encouragement, Kamov made final adjustments in his position and hers, before the helicopter slid that throbbing, dripping member inside her.
Nearly three inches in diameter, it was a tight fit that would have likely been impossible if not for the heavy volume of ECL that kept it slick. The whine of his turbines reached a deafening volume, and that rumble increased as he pushed himself deeper into Rusalka. He kissed her firmly, his tongue meeting hers, the manipulators also pushing Rusalka slightly further down to make up for his lack of flexibility. “You downplay your strength, dearest Rusalka…” He panted, grinning softly. His metal skin was almost hot to the touch, and had he a heart, it would be racing. “I love you, Rusalka.”
That rumbling growl that he was giving off shook Rusalka to the core. It resonated through her in all the best ways. She recognized the near-feral possessiveness of it, and she clung fiercely to the helicopter in return. She was his; And he was equally hers. The heat of him pressed to her skin; The deep rumble of turbines and hydraulics shook him as he growled, and through him shook her. As he lifted himself and shuffled forward, the smaller human grasped each side of his fuselage, making him look down at her. “Prove you’re mine, Kamov,” she growled up at him, fixing him with a firm stare. “Make me yours and I’ll make you mine, dearest.”
As his manipulator arms shifted around her body, she almost felt like she was being constricted. Her body was moved, arranged to the aircraft’s preferences, leaving her open, vulnerable. She took a soft, hissing breath as that thick phallus pressed to her moist folds, and she rocked her hips, helping him adjust; then that thick biomechanical shaft parted her netherlips and pressed smoothly forward with the precision and steady motion that only a machine could have been capable of. As her damp petals and hot inner walls squeezed tightly around the member invading them, they stretched wider than Rusalka had thought they ever could. A loud, pained groan escaped her mouth, but she muffled it against Kamov’s metal hide, and it was drowned out by the sudden increase in noise from his turbines. The vibration they caused as they revved transmitted through his biomechanical body and into the maleness the helicopter had buried within her, making her bite her bottom lip and groan for a different reason as she was pushed downwards, her body surprisingly accepting of Kamov’s erection as her inner walls squeezed around it, impossibly tight and moist around him. As the aircraft spoke, the human opened her eyes and answered only by kissing him again, panting as she rained kiss after kiss down on his hot biosteel casing.
Kamov didn’t say anything now, simply growling as he held her beneath his body. He thrust into her as best he could, flexing as much as his biosteel frame would allow. He could feel her tightness clamping down on him as he slowly pistoned deeper inside her, inch after inch. His shaft spurted ECL inside her, the clear fluid dribbling out of her sex and onto the floor beneath them. His eyes were squeezed shut, feeling the flutter of kisses along his metal underside. His nose practically ground into the hangar floor as his next kiss, the deepest one yet, pushed her head back firmly against the sandbags. The manipulators caressed her belly and stroked over her breasts, even managing to tease her nipples with the little claws at the end. Soon, though, Kamov’s flexibility reached its limits, and he had to stop or risk structural damage. Still, even though most of his dripping, vibrating shaft still remained outside her, nearly a foot of it was planted inside the warm, clenching dampness of her sex.
Kamov’s rotors clattered slightly, his turbines still howling and likely drawing curiosity from anyone outside the hangar. “We are whole again, Rusalka…” He rumbled. “You are -mine-. And I am yours.” Another rumble shuddered through Kamov’s airframe, down into the phallus sunken inside her. The helicopter groaned, closing his eyes tightly as the first heavy spurt of ECL gushed inside her, much more volume than any human would have been able to produce.
Rusalka was overwhelmed by the sensations. She’d never dreamed that she could feel /whole/ like this outside Kamov, but she was – she felt gloriously, magnificently whole again. The feeling of the aircraft above her, thrusting with the kind of power only machinery would be capable of. She reveled in the power she could feel, thrumming through every inch of his metallic skin as his frame bent and flexed, working his newly discovered shaft deeper into her folds. They wrapped around his biomechanical cock, putting hot, tight pressure around every millimeter that he managed to work into her, and only growing moreso as she felt the spurts of ECL he was leaving inside her. She liked the feel of it – it was warm, familiar, and unique to him. She was surrounded by it when she was in his cockpit, and she smiled as she realized she was surrounding it, now. Then he moved, pressing her head back harshly against the sandbags, and she could feel his metal scraping roughly against the concrete of the floor as he gave her the deepest kiss she’d ever had. His tongue managed to wriggle almost entirely into her mouth, and she moaned hotly around it, the taste of him overwhelming her own mouth as she practically sucked on the helicopter’s tongue, her body arching to press her skin against his own increasingly hot hide when his claws found her stiff, pink nipples. He was giving off a lot of heat, and she was beginning to sweat beneath him, but she didn’t notice a bit as she felt him sink deep into her.
The aircraft had buried enough of that thick, throbbing maleness within her to cause the outline of it to be visible as a faint bulge up into her flat, toned belly, flexing inside her as her inner walls squeezed and milked, teasing the twelve inches he’d fit inside her. “Yes!” she answered breathlessly, her hips working to stimulate him as she was held tightly to his metallic frame. “Whole… Feels so good!” the pilot gasped loudly, and when she felt the deep, satisfying rumble feed through Kamov’s body and through the faux-phallus he’d planted in her depths, she gave a loud, sharp cry of pleasure, the fine, rumbling vibrations through something so deep inside her triggering a sudden orgasm that caught even her by surprise, and she only grew more incoherent as she felt the sudden thick, warm rush of ECL into her, in a much greater quantity. With his sizable shaft plugging her, it had little place to go, and indeed served a biological purpose it hadn’t been intended for. Kamov hadn’t known he had a penis until biology had seen fit for him to use it… Likewise, Rusalka didn’t know her own body had been undergoing similar changes, and though she supposedly had no womb, no ovaries by design, her body had seen fit to fix that in a way… The ECL rushed into a womb-like chamber inside her, stretching it, awakening it, preparing it for something to come… And the stretching sensation made Rusalka’s dark blue eyes snap open, a confused yet pleased sound escaping her mouth…
Spurt after spurt of warm ECL flowed into Rusalka’s ‘womb’, still plugged shut by Kamov’s shaft. Soon, the bulge of his cock was slowly softened out, and soon vanished and Rusalka’s belly began to bulge from the volume of ECL being pumped into it. Kamov slowly pulled his lips away from hers, his broad tongue withdrawing from his lover’s mouth, a small trail of fluid linking them for a second. The helicopter panted, the sound of his turbines wavering faintly, Kamov’s reluctance to guzzle down cold fuel this morning was starting to come back to bite him. He’d burned through a lot of energy, and it wouldn’t be long until he was too weary to continue. But the helicopter still had a little bit left in him, and he planned to make the most of it. One of the manipulators slid down and gently rubbed Rusalka’s lightly swollen tummy, Kamov letting our a happy rumble. He groaned and bent his airframe just a little bit further, his seams groaning alarmingly, his body making a bow shape when viewed from above. He shuffled himself forward just a little bit further, so that Rusalka was off-center to him, and a little further back.
His shaft pivoted on the weapons mount beneath him, and now with her a little further back, he was able to push in a few more inches of its length and girth inside her. He could feel every inch of her clenching, pulsing walls, even the very back of her. He could go no deeper without harming her, or himself. The vibrations were firmer now, and occasionally the reverberating ‘pop’ of straining metal transmitted down into her body. Kamov kissed her again, softer this time, gently turning her head towards his. “Thank you, Rusalka…” He spoke wearily, “Thank you…” A final shudder rattled through his fuselage, and another gush of ECL surged from his shaft and into her womb. Already swollen from his previous ejactulation, Rusalka’s belly now ballooned, swelling even further and giving her the false appearance of pregnancy, her pale skin drawn taught.
The ECL being spurted into her in an unnatural but oh-so-perfect simulation of seed was icing on the cake to the human beneath him. Her artificial womb was, quite literally, made for this, and it stretched in ways no human analogue could have managed. It was made to inflate and hold, and it was doing just that. As Rusalka panted and moaned around Kamov’s thick tongue, she gyrated her hips, teasing the length inside her with the movements and pressure. When the aircraft pulled his tongue away from her, she was shameless in raising her head and letting out an ‘Mmm’ as her tongue found that trail of saliva and licked it up again. His panting and wavering turbines made her worry, but it was nothing compared to the pleasure he was giving, and she was unable to make herself stop panting, stop moaning his name, to make sure he was okay. When she looked down herself, she could see her bulging belly, slightly rounded, and she gave an ecstatic shiver. /Kamov did that,/ she thought to herself in a haze of pleasure. /He did that to show he loves you, Rusalka, so do not let him go unrewarded./ She was still too pleased, too aroused, too needing of his shaft inside her and his great weight and size over her, to worry about the way he was bowed. Instead she groaned as she was repositioned, and she spread her legs as wide as she physically could… And gave a loud cry of happiness and pleasure as she felt him sink a few more inches into her body. She was absolutely full of him – she thought – and it was the most amazing experience of her life. Every single millimeter of her tunnel, from stretched-taut folds to the back of her artificial womb, began to squeeze, to milk, to stroke – to pleasure him.
The pops and pings of metal strained as far as it could be strained and on the edge of failure alarmed her, but she was unable to make her renegade body stop. The vibrations it was causing simply made her toes curl, nd she gasped hard for each breath as she let him push so deep… Her kiss this time was as tender as his, though no less heated than the one before it. She did her best to give him a full kiss, not just his tongue but his mouth, moaning hotly for him. “Mmm, no, my love. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” she repeated, each repetition earning the tiring machine another delicate kiss. She felt the shudder in his body before she felt this one, final ejaculation, and her body was prepared. Not just ECL, this final series of spurts was laden with a thick slurry of biosteel molecules, silicone molecules, everything her own body couldn’t naturally provide. Her ‘womb’ knew what to do with it, and was already beginning the slow process of restructuring the molecules into a new life form, like herself. She gasped “OooOOH! KAMOV! YESSS!” Her last word came out a hiss as she felt her belly draw up taut, expanded as far as it safely could, pressing firmly to Kamov’s undercarriage as he pressed down on her. Her hot, tight walls milked him as efficiently as any machine, rippling up his synthetic cock to coax more of that resource-rich ejaculate into herself as she shuddered and shook uncontrollably in the first orgasm she’d ever truly experienced underneath the biomechanical helicopter.
Kamov sagged after the intensity of that ejaculation, slumping to the side so that he did not risk rolling on top of Rusalka. The helicopter’s rotors dragged against the ground, and his turbines sputtered, winding down. His fuselage expanded and contracted with each deep breath, but he relaxed the tension that had been straining his airframe. The manipulators took a moment to respond, slowly unwinding themselves from Rusalka’s body, even though one continued to lazily stroke her taut belly. As the synthetic shaft slid from her sex with a slimy ‘pop’, the excess ECL that was not held in her womb gushed out and onto the floor. His shaft was steaming, and wisps of it also drifted up from her pussy to disapate in the hangar air. His shaft withdrew back into the space in his belly, being covered up as if though it had never been there. Using his manipulator arms, Kamov slowly and gently hugged Rusalka’s body against his, feeling her afterglow-warmed skin against his biosteel. He smiled, letting his eyes close as he nuzzled against her. “I do not think I mind the winter so much, now…” He rumbled softly. “If it means I can be here with you.”
Rusalka was in little better shape than the helicopter atop her as he slumped down. Her own body betrayed her in the weakness of afterglow, refusing to work properly. She slumped down, unable to make her limbs obey – they wanted only to go limp and stay that way. As he released the tension he’d been putting himself under in order to penetrate her, the human just lay back onto the sandbags and took deep, groaning breaths as she enjoyed the stretched, taut feeling he was leaving her with. Feeling him withdrawing, she actually whimpered and tried to grab him to stay where he was – but her arms refused to work, and instead all that happened was a lewd ‘schlurp’ as his biomechanical cock slipped out of the tight hold of her sex. It wasn’t until she saw the steam rising from it – and from her pussy – that she realized just how hot the aircraft had become. “Nnng… We may need the cold… To keep you from overheating, Kamov,” she replied with a tired grin. “If you’d tried that with anyone else they’d likely be badly burned…” She gasped lightly as he moved her, pressing her swollen tummy against his hot metal skin to nuzzle her, and her arms finally reacted. She reached up, resting her hands on either side of his mouth where cheeks might otherwise be, and caressed them. “They keep us apart too much, dearest Kamov. I think I will… Use stronger language to convince them to allow us to at least sleep together, if not in you. I refuse to not sleep in your hangar,” she answered, groaning. A certain amount of ECL had escaped, splashing messily to the floor, but most of it, along with his final gift, had been retained tightly inside her, and was plainly not interested in going anywhere.
And it was only at that moment that Rusalka’s pale face went even more pale. “Kamov? Do- Do they deactivate the surveillance cameras while you sleep?”
..”Its not going to suck itself”, but I kinda like the title better. Was the quote of the guy on FA when he set me to build this picture. Its pretty cute. I may color it.