The East

This is a HaM side story, something vulgar and new. Scroll down to the bottom or read through it all to learn why I wrote this.
Enjoy?

Thirty-Four crept across the tree line against a field; her crew was on edge and was trying their hardest to see out of the vision blocks. Even though she was a newer T-34, a T-34-76 with improved vision gear her crew still had problems with the lack of ability to see out of the tank. Her small team she was part of was just hit by a German gun, a big one, too. She saw that she could escape to the hills just across the field and the gun couldn’t hit her. She suggested it to the crew, the commander thought, looked around, and gave the go ahead. She ramped up her engine and threw herself across the field in an adrenaline fueled rush of power. She saw the hill come into view, she saw it coming closer and closer, saw it slowly drift to her right. She saw the scariest thing in the world on the other side.
One shot rang from Dev’s gun. One shot was all an eighty-eight needs. It hit right in the middle of the Russian tank’s hull and he knew that killed everyone inside. The tank came grinding to a halt in front of him; Dev couldn’t help but smile. This, he thought, is why I work best alone. He noticed instantly that the tank was quivering; he loaded another shot-HE-and aimed. He thought about how easy it was to kill a Russian. They’re so mindlessly predictable, they’re so weak, they’re so.., so small..,
“No! Please!” She screamed out. “Don’t hurt me; I’ll do anything you want!” Anything?
“Turn around and lift your tailpipe.” He commanded.
Thirty-Four was terrified; she knew what was going to happen. Is it worth it? She decided it was, she turned around very slow, painfully slow, and the whole time Dev was thinking of everything he could do with her. He licked his lips as Thirty-Four’s shivering body finally stopped turning and he let out his monster bow cock. It was already oozing out his precum; it dripped from his fat tip to the dirt beneath him. Thirty-Four had raised her stern and was bracing for it, for anything. She shook the dead body remnants of her disembodied crew in hopes that one could be alive. None of her old crew was alive. She was all alone, alone with whatever this tank wanted.
Dev grabbed her stern just so she couldn’t go anywhere; there was a wooden board where her precious treasure was, and so he ripped he board off and chucked it away like it was a Frisbee. Thirty-Four’s lips trembled, she became ‘pale’ and her suspension shook in fear. Dev’s hands couldn’t resist the temptation; his hands reached for and grabbed her pussy lips and moved them around. So soft! So small! Thirty-Four knew it was going to happen, she soon began to cry softly but she tried to hold her own, she tried to stand proud even still. Dev probed her twat with his fingers and spread them apart to look at just how tight she really was and his cock instantly ached at first sight. He was staring down her deep long channel and noticed how dry it looked. He simply knew she was too dry to have any fun so he toyed with her twat and rolled over her clit ball, feeling her quiver and resist in his hands and arms strengthened his desire to use her to his dirty desire.
“Please, please, sir! Please don’t! Anything else but that, please!” She pleaded as her cooling fluids began cooling her vagina more and more, against her will she was ready for it. She cried even more, Dev didn’t care; she was his slave to his every whim.
His cock could wait no longer; even though she continued to plead against it he moved her more onto his bow and lined his cock up with the hole. Her lips were being held apart by two hands and his cock was being guided by one hand. He pressed his head against her hole and let her lips close down on his head, she screamed for him to stop, she begged with every weld in her body. He didn’t care. He forced his way deep into her pussy letting out a long drawn moan and a grunt as he reached her cervix. He knew that if he went in she might get pregnant but the idea of what it’ll feel like overcame all his sympathy. He grunted and forced his way into her cervix. She stood no more. She gave in, she knew he wouldn’t stop, she let her suspension go, she let her emotions go, she began to cry and scream as Dev fucked her pussy hard. He humped her hard or he used his arms to pick her up and down his massive size. His presence hurt her with how big he was and she felt his hot inside eke out inside her so small in amount but so constantly in time. Her vagina cursed her for not letting him enter sooner but she hated herself for the occasional moan of pleasure, she couldn’t help the fact that the sex felt nice. Even though it was rape she still felt all the desires she’s had come to life again and beg her to get more. She was at war with herself now, fighting to beat those good feelings away.
Dev felt her tight, tight pussy grab onto his cock and yet felt how she hated his presence. It made him even more enthusiastic. His humps grew faster and harder and he felt her get wetter and wetter, her pussy was telling him how much she wanted his dick but her screams and cries told him she hated him and wanted him to just go away. He listened to his own wants and let his humps grow stronger and harder, pulling her down on his hard cock at the same time. Slowly he feels his climax approaching. He felt it build and build until his manners took over and he raced out and stuck his cock against her left tailpipe. He moaned very loud as he came onto her ass and into her tailpipe. He pulled off and admired his spray and decided another run would be amazing, and finishing deep, deep inside would be awesome. He felt Thirty-Four start to rejoice; she thought that it was all over, that she would be relatively unscarred by this. She was very, very wrong.
He smacked his cock against her spread pussy lips and noticed she started to cry again. He stuffed himself deep inside her again and moaned aloud, relaxing and stiffening again inside her. He took this moment to grope her clit and her right tailpipe while he pumped his cock tiff. He felt her pussy constrict on him, he felt it grow hotter and felt her quiver more. ”Oh, yes! Cum! Cum for me! Do it! Do it you fucking slut!” She felt extremely ashamed, she screamed as she came on him, then as she wound down she cried and tried to claw her body off of him but he held her tight. He fucked her slow and steady, making sure she really felt him ooze out his second dose of precum and feel every inch of his huge cock. He steadily felt his climax rise up, the feelings made his eyes roll into the back of his mantle. All of a sudden Thirty-Four felt a huge amount of hot fluids fill her deep insides. She was shocked; her pussy finally cried out in pleasure but she knew the consequences, she knew what followed. She trembled with fear. Dev kept her there for at least a minute as he filled her more and more, she cried aloud and wailed to the skies. As soon as Dev let her go she threw herself off of him and her hull dropped to the ground. Dev had his cock standing tall and proud, covered in his cum and her coolant.
“Look at it!” He commanded. She ignored him, he moved closer to her as she tried to move away. “Look at it!” He grabbed her gun barrel and pulled it to the side towards him. Her green eyes looked into his brown pleading no more, pleading for him to just go away. “Look at it! Look at how big it is.” He waved his cock in front of her face, she tried to look around it but it was big and it caught her mind, that is what just ruined my life. He made sure she noticed it by smacking it against her face. “Lick it, lick it clean you slut!”
“No!” She screamed. “No! Go away! Go aw-ay-y!” She cried again, the warm tears rolled down his long shaft.
“Lick. It.” He ordered, with a trembling tongue she licked his shaft and pulled it back in, he ordered her to lick every inch of it. She was forced to obey. She licked from bottom to top and when she reached the top more of his cum would glop out either onto her tongue or her turret or face. Once he was clean he smiled wide and backed off, admiring the work he had done and wished he had a camera. She was crying and staring at the ground with his cum on her turret and face, some on her ass and oozing from her left tailpipe, and a tail of it oozing from her spread pussy. He turned and drove off, leaving Thirty-Four do deal with the aftermath.
Thirty-Four regained herself around midnight that night and looked for any comforting thing she could find. Her usual friends weren’t there to ease her distress, the moon was dark and barren, the clouds were soulless and still, the animals were nowhere, the grass was evasive and stiff, she was alone. Tears uncontrollably streamed down from her dim and dull green eyes and her whole body aches and quivered knowing what had happened, her vagina seemed to be on fire and crying itself now knowing what it had done. Her wound on her chest burned and throbbed, she saw herself barely bleeding from it and covered it with the saw from her side. Her body barely complied with her, so much distress and anxiety and terror filled her mind and heart, and her clouded mind couldn’t think of what to do. Every now and again she would completely stop and drop her hull and cry, wail, bawl, then move again. She knew that she wasn’t as good as the German tanks, they could go well over 200 kilometers no problem, but she remembers barely going 20 before something on a T-34 broke; much less than that she barely had any fuel left, she was stranded.
At around dawn she felt a tight and churning pain in her gut, her mouth watered, and she felt the need to put metal in her mouth. She tried ignoring it for a while but the pain grew and grew and grew, festering and festering and festering until she could stand it no more. She searched around for anything metal but found only herself in the tall grasses. She remembered she still had ammunition, she cautiously plucked a shell from her rack and moved it through the remnants of her only company and handed it out of her driver’s hatch. She stared at it, her mouth watered even more, just looking at it made her gut make a strange growling sound. As she opened her mouth and moved the shell to her mouth she shivered in terror and anticipation, she hesitated but suddenly bit down on the round and ripped it out of the canister. Pouring out the black gunpowder she thought of how good the shot tasted, the iron tang and the steel whirl filled her mouth making her smile, she bit into the brass canister and fell in love with the taste. She bit more furiously until she had devoured the whole shot. As she swallowed the final bite she felt better but she was still hungry, she went for her shots and ate three more by snapping the shot out and dumping the powder on the ground while chewing that shot. Once she had eaten the shots she moved on to the main course and devoured the canisters just like the first one. She felt satisfied and got a little creative, the little mound of gunpowder on the ground sparked her curiosity and she tried picking up a pinch. It slipped like sand between her fingers; she licked her fingers and tried again. This time it worked and she had a coating of gunpowder on her finger, she stuck her tongue to it and instantly reeled back. She spat at the ground and shook the powder off her finger; it was a very bitter and foul taste in her mouth. She moved on, not quite sure where she was heading however, and thought of what was going to happen to her. She figured she was going to get even hungrier and realized that her ammunition would not subsidize enough. She only knew one place where for sure she could get enough metal, only one place: her dead unit.
She moved back to them and came across the four other tanks, the fires that once ensured their destruction had long ago burnt out, but knew they still had diesel in their fuel tanks. She looked upon the dead crews and saw that some scavengers had made the dead a meal, she felt sick to her stomach at how they looked. She was disgusted by that but her thoughts of how she was to feed herself disgusted her even more. As she looked on the dead metal T-34s she knew that eventually she would nourish herself with them. It scared her out of her mind, it felt like cannibalism, like something very wrong. It felt like a sin yet it is the only option she has. She began to cry again, not only was she defiled and her pride destroyed, but now she must turn cannibal to survive, she cursed herself, she dammed that Tiger and she bawled until dusk, screaming curses and damnations upon the world. That night she did indeed grow hungry again, she tried putting it off as long as possible but she eventually gave in. She grabbed at a first production T-34’s gun and tried ripping it from its socket. Instead of giving out it stayed firm, she grew furious and enraged and shook the tank hulk and beat at it until the whole turret was sheared off of its mount. She breathes heavily while looking upon her work, she exposed the two dead crewmen slumped over in their seats, and their outfits dirty and bloody and shredded by the shrapnel of a penetrating 88 millimeter round. She dropped the heavy turret to the ground and jerked off the hatch and began eating that. Sitting there eating one of her own made her cry, she sobbed as she ate the hatch and felt mournful for all the dead crewmen slaughtered by that German monster! She grew extreme hatred towards him, towards the Germans, towards the war. She munched on the T-34 hatch and thought about how much she hated that Tiger tank for an hour.
A few days later she noticed she craved different metals and materials. She noticed this because she would feel hungry and think about a material and whenever she looked at that material she became really hungry. She had eaten steel, iron, brass, copper, tin, gold, other various metals and even the rubber off of the wheels. This time it sickened her to her core, she couldn’t stop thinking about flesh, about meat, she wanted it and when she thought of it her mouth watered. She had almost no meat around, she let out all the dead crewmen from the other tanks and they had been mostly eaten away by animals in the night. She did have some meat left, she still had her crew. She was growing hungrier and hungrier but she refused, she absolutely refused. They were all she had left, she talked to them, she thought them as her close friends and she refused to eat and destroy her friends. It started in the morning and by dusk she was crazy, the hunger and pain were driving her up a wall. She gave in and pulled out a rotting arm from the driver, it had a gold band on the second longest finger and shards of her and that German’s round in his flesh. As she looked at the piece of man she broke into tears, she wept hard again and started yelling out ‘why?’ to the heavens. She could stand no more, both physically, emotionally, and mentally, and she collapsed and gave in. She slowly, with trembling hands, moved the ugly and rotting arm to her shaking mouth and wept her eyes out as she shut them tightly, for she couldn’t stand to watch herself do this, and thus let her jaws sink into the flesh of her friend. She hated herself for enjoying the texture and taste, she wanted to die right there as she chewed on the flesh and bone of her crewman, and she wished that she was never even made while she swallowed. She quivered and shook madly as she ate the rest of the arm, bone and clothes included. She hoped that she would just eat that, no more flesh, no more of that, but when she still felt that want she lost all hope. A week after their encounter Dev had wholly broken Thirty-Four and everything she had, pride, hope, joy, wonder, all were destroyed because of him. She vowed to find him one day, she vowed that Stalin would send those fascist bastards back to Germany, back to Hitler, back to their families, back all in boxes and pieces. She had a burning passionate hatred; no she despised him with a veil of apathy. No amount of words from any language on the world has a word to describe exactly what intense animosity she held for that coward, that German Nazi coward.
She woke up one night in a panic, she felt absolutely terrible, like her insides were on fire and she just had to get it all out. She scrambled and chucked whatever she could out of her hatches regardless of what it was, rotting corpses, live ammunition, spent casings, a handle, some tools, all were chucked out. Once she had essentially gutted herself she caught her breath and looked at her dead friends. Even though she had grown cold to seeing their dead flesh, she had by this time eaten much of the loose body limbs, seeing them thrown about moved her. Their faces were in shock and horror, stiffened and froze in their final breathing moments when they were staring into the face of that German Nazi coward. She felt in the morning why she had that huge urge to gut her cabin, and that reason was because her cabin locked down and the whole assembly for the commander and loader were folded into her turret with a new floor at her turret ring. This discovery both excited her and scared her. She again was hungry and as she was eating some engine parts she worried how heavy she would get and how she would feed herself meat if she had to. She had pulled out her bow gun in her frenzy and all of its ammunition, but how was she going to use it well? She had no clue how to shoulder a weapon (it doesn’t even have a butt stock and she tried to shoulder it) nor how she was going to aim it from her ‘shoulder.’ She was playing around with positions when she tried putting it between her eyes like her main gun. She realized she didn’t have to use that anymore and so she opened the breech and stuffed the machine gun into the breach, it was a little awkward but she figured this would work best. She practiced loading it and decided to try some target practice while she could. She used a tree as her target and used her hand to carve an ‘X’ into the wood. She backed off about thirty yards and fired in bursts to learn exactly where it spread: to the left and down. From there she practiced using her natural point of aim to point her 76 millimeter on the target and from there adjusted to the right and up. Once she had gained a sense of mastery over her aim she decided to hunt for food. No, she thought, ambush. She gathered up her dead comrades and piled them up under the tree sat back very still, and waited. She knew the wolves would be back, all she had to do was wait. Eventually her patience paid for itself and she nabbed two wolves with one burst. She victoriously approached the wolves and ensured they were dead. With that she saved a few pieces for later bait and finally decided to bury her deceased comrades like she did the others.
“Rest in peace, friends.” She finally let herself have peace; she no longer clung to the dead and found herself a sense of self-reliance. That night she rejoiced about not having to eat her friends any longer and gorged down on wolf meat.
Months passed, she ate meat only a little bit once a month from that first wolf night on and mostly metal and rubber with a couple bits of glass scattered here and there. She ate the entire turret of two T-34s and their guns, lights, and electrical systems. Every now and then she would snack on her favorite dessert: brass casings, but her meals mostly consisted of the cold cast steel of the turrets and hatches with rubber sides. She had gained a few tons and had grown very immobile, she feared that she was soon due and worried with fear and hatred of the result. She constantly had nightmares where it was a little Tiger like its father; she knew she would hate it. But all this work and all to kill this innocent child? Either way she looked she still made a long knife blade-like weapon from the side panel of a turretless tank. One afternoon she felt strange feelings inside her, it was closer to finishing. That following morning she went into labor, she screamed at the top of her lungs with pain, she cursed that German Nazi coward and her designers for the pain, it felt like her engine was being shat out her tailpipes, she pushed hard, she pushed and pushed and screamed until she felt the baby exit her body. What was happening was her womb was in her cabin at the front while her vagina and uterus are along her belly under the engine, her whole engine block was moved around the baby as it exited. Her whole entire body ached, it burned with anger, it quivered with anticipation, and as she pulled the baby around by the road wheels she drew her weapon. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth; the baby was in front of her now squirming around and grabbing at her hands. She raised her blade and opened her eyes. She saw a tiny T-34-76, just like her. Her arms buckled and dropped the blade off to the side of her, she couldn’t kill this. She instantly felt rewarded; she lashed at her baby and pulled it up and on her chest right under her chin. Her eyes were tightly shut and streaming tears. She opened them and admired the hot bundle of a baby in her arms; it was only a sixth of her size and a dull gray mostly with silver areas. She noticed that the silver areas were just her placenta fluids. She cleaned her baby with her hands and tried her best to shield it from the cold springtime air of the night.
She found its eye sockets and cleaned them off, soon and shakily they opened and revealed amazing brown eyes, she instantly wanted to name it Alyona but didn’t know what her baby’s gender was yet. She searched around the butt plate for a slit but didn’t find anything. She prayed that the brown eyes were the only trait that it possessed and searched the front lower plate. She found a slit and gently inserted a finger to find something, she did find a penis, and she had a beautiful baby boy! She rejoiced that it shared Russian anatomy and thought about a name for a boy. She came up with Adler. She hugged him and carried him to the two T-34s she used to shield herself from the winter winds and build fires by. She quickly made a fire with the still working spark plugs from the T-34 and put Adler next to the fire and blocked him from the wind. She continued cleaning him and noticed how upset he was.
“What’s wrong, Adler? Are you cold?” She moved him closer to the fire but he scooted back to her and grabbed at her tendrils and tried putting them into his mouth. She hesitated because of how sharp his teeth already were and what she has done to thicker metal. She realized he was hungry instantly but wasn’t sure what to do. She had her feeding tendrils under her tow hooks and felt them grow thicker and heavier as she grew closer to birthing Adler. She put one up to Adler’s lips and braced for the pain but none came. Instead he grabbed it with his lips and sucked on it, Thirty-Four felt her ‘milk’ slip into Adler’s mouth. He slowly sucked less and less until he had fallen asleep. Thirty-Four slowly plucked her nipple from his mouth and retrieved it. She, too, was exhausted and wanted to just go to sleep. She pulled her son up onto her chest and held him tight and she scooted up to the fire to keep him warm. She watched him sleep in her arms as she herself drifted to sleep.
She loved her son; she loved him more than she loved anything else in the world, more than Stalin, more than Russia, more than herself. She would do anything for him, he was her sole joy, her sole pride, her sole family and sole friend. Every day she talked to him, teaching him what she knew, helping him speak, helping him learn to crawl, rigging belts from his drive wheel to his rear road wheel so he could move using his stronger drive ability. She cared and nurtured his every need. There were nights when she felt the smallest sliver of thankfulness of that German. Only the smallest sliver. Of all the things she would teach him she would not teach him anything about where Adler came from.
“Momma, where did I come from?”
“Let’s not worry about that right now, Adler, how many bullets are in my hand?” He looked into her hand and poked at each of the machine gun bullets in her hand.
“Seven.”
“Very good! You’re such a smart boy!”
One morning in the summer Adler was awoken by a small and warm hand on his side. He opened his eyes and there was a strange animal next to him, there were two of them. They both were dirty and had tan skin with no hair on them but around their head and had green chests and black legs. They smiled at him, one waved at him and the other put down his long brown rifle and fumbled around in his side toolbox.
“Hallo. Wie lautet dein name?” The one that touched him said, Adler wasn’t really sure what he said but he thought he knew. He thought he asked what his name was.
“Adler.” The one that was fumbling around in his toolbox pulled out a big bearing and shook it at him.
“Sie möchten Ball spielen?” Adler had no idea what he said that time. He was surely asking a question, though. The two strange animals gestured for him to watch, they tossed the bearing between them. They wanted him to play catch with them. He smiled and shook his gun up and down. The two animals smiled and tossed the bearing to Adler. He expected to be a lot heavier with its size but it was really light, maybe as heavy as a wrench. It also felt strange, it was not metal. He passed it back to the one who was furthest. They passed it between them for a little while. Thirty-Four woke up to Adler’s giggling.
“What’re you up to?” She looked over to where he was giggling and saw two German soldiers next to him. “ADLER GET AWAY FROM THEM!” She yelled sternly as she charged to him. The smiling soldiers instantly became terrified and turned to run, gathering their rifles and running off as fast as they could. Adler was scared, too.
“Mommy why? Why did you scare them away!?” She grabbed a hold of him and drug him to her side, she was breathing hard and looked angry.
“They are bad people! Do not trust them, Adler, they are nothing but rats! Terrible rats!” He didn’t feel the same way, they had done nothing to him but play with him.
“But they were nice, mommy. They didn’t seem bad to me.”
“Quiet Adler! They are all terrible rats at their core!” She went back to fix him some breakfast and left him there. He moved up and picked up the discarded bearing. He examined it with his brown eyes very carefully, he couldn’t deduce where this bearing would go so he took it to his mother. She was still angry and was ripping the metal bits off of the T-34 that had its engine deck missing; he always wondered why they were like that.
“Momma, what’s this bearing?” He handed her the bearing and she instantly knew it was not a bearing.
“This is no bearing, Adler. This is a ball. Where did you get this?”
“I was playing with the Germans with that, it’s a ball? What’s a ball?”
“It’s a game piece; you use it to play games like catch. Don’t play with those Nazi rats again.” He was quiet as she made the shards of metal into chips for Adler.
“What’s a Nazi?”
“A German. A fascist. They invade other countries and kill their people. Their disgusting leader is Hitler; he’s the Nazi that Russia will kill for the justice of the world!” She said this so pridefully, Adler still didn’t understand completely. Thirty-Four sighed in anguish. “The Nazis control this Russian soil.”
“So did Nazis do this?” He pointed at a shot hole in one of the T-34’s hull.
“Yes Adler. Cowardly Nazis did that.” She said coldly, “here’s your breakfast, Adler. Eat up.” She said blankly. She handed him his plate, an armored hatch off one of the turrets, and on that plate was the chips of armor. Adler ate his breakfast with haste and was soon ready for the day. Thirty-Four sent him off to do his tasks, collect firewood, check the traps, and switch out the filled water collectors for empty ones. That was all he had to do every day. Thirty four didn’t do as much moving but she prepared his meals and kept a close watch on him and coached him with his mobility. He never would stray too far from his mother so she could keep an eye on him and she would never take an eye off him. After the chores were done they would play games like catch or sword fight with sticks but after that she would teach him lessons like counting, vocabulary, terminology, and what little history she knew. Whenever he asked a question she didn’t know the answer to she would try her best to make one. After the lesson was usually dinner time where she fed him and they cuddled up to each other. That was Adler’s favorite time, he loved his mom and loved being in her arms, he always felt good in her arms.
Months passed and Thirty-Four soon heard explosions and fighting in the distance, she grew excited every time a battle erupted. Adler would cower in her arms whenever he heard the explosions and would think of a nightmarish creature a thousand feet high stepping on T-34s with a wicked chattering laugh like his mother’s machine gun. Thirty-Four stayed up most nights and it all paid off one night: the triumphant Red Army had liberated her and her son! She saw brand new and intimidating T-34 tanks proudly carrying their big and long guns in the air and red banners waving in the wind. Trucks upon trucks of battle ready infantry moved past her, she woke up Adler and showed him Stalin’s proud army. She pointed out whatever she could, the heavy KV tanks still left, the AT guns, the infantry, the new T-34 tank. He was in awe of it all while his mother was inspired to steam roll the pathetic German lines.
“Are you lost?” A big tank stopped and spoke to Thirty-Four, she seemed powerful and strong. She saw the wrecked shambles of T-34s and caught a glimmer of Thirty-Four’s gray shot hole. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” she said excitedly as she turned towards her and brought Adler along her side, “we’re fine.”
“Who are you?” Adler asked.
“Shellproof.” Suddenly she spurred ahead, yelled at by an angry crew. “Come along! Follow me!” Thirty-Four put Adler on her chest and followed Shellproof, happy that she always kept her fuel tanks full. She brought her engine to life and quickly caught up to Shellproof’s side.
“So what has changed?”
“Since?” Thirty-Four thought hard, when did she fall out of time? She backtracked two winters, one pregnant and one with Adler, and figured around summer 1942. “Well we lost ground, we got it back, we got bigger and better tanks like myself and the T-34-85.”
“An 85 gun?”
“Yes, that’s what I have; I’m the new heavy tank. I’m a Iosif Stalin One. I share the same gun as the T-34s there.”
“So why did we put the 85 on the tanks?”
“To kill Tigers at their fronts.” A devilish smile came over Thirty-Four, she closed her eyes and fascinated herself with the sight of his destruction. She opened her eyes and followed Shellproof on her journey.
“We’re in good hands now, Adler, we will be fine.” She rocked Adler to sleep on her chest and stuck with her newfound unit, staying close to Shellproof when she wasn’t in combat. Even though she wasn’t treated the best, neither was Adler, many soldiers helped her and we’re kind to her, helping feed Adler.

Fin The East

I did this not only as an origin story for future characters but because I feel like I’ve put too much innocence on the Germans and made them out to be the good guys. This is to show that they raped and pillaged, to show that the German army did bad things. That said so did the Russians, and the British, and probably the Americans, too. I say probably because I’ve neither read nor heard anything of rape or pillaging by U.S. forces in the theaters of WWII, but that may have been censored by officials, while there is definite evidence of rape and pillaging in Vietnam. So the chances of it in WWII are just as strong. Will I write about rape again? Probably not. No side on the war was clean and pretty, both for sure carpet bombed unarmed and peaceful cities and both also fought to protect those people. What matters in the end is that the corrupt Nazis were ended; the atrocities the Nazis committed make this rape, make Al Qaeda, make ISIS look like children in over their heads. The SS would laugh at the threats of ISIS, the beheading of their innocent people would fill them with rage but not one would flinch. After, they would raid a village with no connection to ISIS, other than country and religion, round up every man in a mosque, every woman and child in big houses, and chuck grenades and bombs into the buildings, fire their weapons through the walls and barred door, then end with blazing the whole village until ash remained. Then they would feast on top of the ashes and have a merry time before they moved on to rinse and repeat at another village until they felt vengeance had been reached. This is the things the SS divisions like ‘Das Reich’ did, other atrocities included hanging 119 men from the street lamps and posts, of only 2 were resistance fighters, rounding up ‘Jews’ and using firing squads to kill them, either leaving the dead there or killing them atop a mass grave. The things they did were indescribable and hopefully will only be seen by footage and never again in the real, and yes the Wehrmacht did participate in this that was by enlistment and orders of SS officers. The whole reason why concentration camps were even conceived was because units on the eastern front were becoming so demoralized by all the mass shootings. No, not every Wehrmacht soldier knew about these atrocities, when walked through the concentration camps they were horrified just as much or more than the nearby citizens, the fact that they stood and bled and fought for that drove a few crazy and they committed suicide in the following years. Imagine the thought that your leader, the man or woman or idol that saved your nation, that saved your family from extreme poverty and rebuilt your life to prosperity and entrusted you to protect them and their belief for the betterment of the world. Now imagine walking through a death camp, the fences lined with bodies that stacked as tall as your house, nude and frail bodies barely breathing staring you in the eye. Imagine what hell that would do to you, the fact that you fought for this, and yet the SS that survived are still among us today and most aren’t even phased by it.

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

The Great Typhoon II

Well this is what I have to a stopping point. It’s not as long as the last part but not complete, there will be more updates to the story here. Enjoy.

The Great Typhoon II

He fell asleep very late; in the following morning, and she let him sleep his day away while she awaited a reply from the Admiral that didn’t come that day. They arrived at the port at around 2100 hours and docked a half-hour later. He stayed up and let her sleep, fondling one of her externally placed tendril vaginas on her observation deck to help ease her stress and anxiety of the journey and waiting. When he went inside at sunrise he saw a message from the Admiral approving the move-in but disproving another message that Severstal must have slipped in. He woke her up gently with a wrench on her pipes and asked her about it.

“So good news! I can move in! The Admiral asked my father about it and the old man didn’t even hesitate, as I thought he wouldn’t, and has already started getting all my stuff in boxes… boy do I feel loved. Anyway he said it’ll be shipped up to the next port, it’s past the base, and I’ll get it there. That worked out magically well.”

“Yeah it did!” She wrapped him up in her arms and squeezed gently as not to pop him. “But what’s the bad news?”

“Something about a baby, what’s that about?” She was confused, she never asked for a baby.

“I never asked for a baby, only what would we do with one… what’s it say?”

“No baby, nowhere to put a-oh okay I see, yeah I just read the first part. It says a humorph would be appropriate but a full blown submorph would not be acceptable at all. There’s no room basically. So how do we determine what form it’ll be?”

“We know a lot more now than we did back then in the beginning. We used to think it was specific traits you’d put into me via sex at specific times during pregnancy but now it’s known that’s not true. The mother will form the baby to be one of her type, but it changes on the fathers dosage, like a mold being bent out of place, but it’ll change back to the original form over time so if we want a baby you’d need to make sweet, sweet love to me every night or we might fuck up and it could be a huge baby. But if it’s every night it’ll be maybe a little bit bigger than you fully grown or about your size. So if we’re having one it’ll be every night and you WILL follow through with it. I’m having a child one easy way or another rape filled one, I’m not having my child taken from me alive.” He recoiled at the thought of nine months straight of sex, it turned him on but he knew it may get sore for him fast.

“Well that’s nice… I’ll uh, change right? So I’m not so… fragile?”

“Sure I’ll fix you. That’s a long letter for that stuff what else is there?”

“It just lists my duties onboard, tidiness, maintenance, uhhh invasion of privacy obviously you can see everywhere, that stuff. Well it’s show time! Let’s go sharing!” They worked through the day talking to another variety of people and machines, very few seemed uninterested, and those that did found something interesting in the huge assortment of systems and weapons and features. Severstal felt a greater want for children when she was playing and entertaining children all day, teaching them how to slide down ladders, run through the halls, close and open doors, and where to hide for hide and seek with the other kids, she of course let some win when it was her turn but she loved them, they made her day great. And she brought it up with Anatoly again that night at the table.

“I really really reeaalllly want a kid!” She pleaded him, she was asking to start it as soon as possible.

“So do I but we’ve got a duty and we can’t just put it off or find time to bang every night! I’m not physically ready, either, you’d need to fix me up or I might fail on you and myself. I’ll make a deal with you now, we’ll start right after our last stop. Is that alright?” She swarmed him with a multitude of tendrils and kissed him.

“Mmm-yes! Yes! Yes! Promise me that! Promise!” He shook his head yes. “Yees! Now… let’s start on some practice!” She ripped open his fly and dropped her vagina on his still limp dick, stuffed his sausage inside her buns, and waited for it to ripen. She was continuously moaning and drawing the whole time he righted himself inside her, then she slid on him nonstop when he was hard and ready. She decided to open up her ‘cervix’, it wasn’t actually the cervix but it acted as the old German cervix’s where it prevented against pregnancy but enhanced the sexual feeling and pleasure supposedly for both partners, and they’re about to find out.

“Hoooo-sshhhiiitttt!” Severstal opened up the reserve and surrounded his cock in heaven. “FFFFFFuuuucccckkk!Damn that’s good!” She was caressing and vibrating his package stuffed deep inside her soaking wet depths, he was sent into a high with a mixture of dopamine and fluids emitted into his bloodstream at his cock.

“Severstal… Oh fuck… Severstal, this is, ohhhh… Oh this is awesome…” She painfully rose on him, drawing protesting wails and whines from both of them then found enough strength to plow him rapidly, nonstop, filling the room and adjoining halls with pleasant screams and wails.

“FUCK ME OH FUCK ME!” He did as she cried and tossed her tendril on the table top and banged her sideways. “OOOH ANATOLY!”

“SEVERSTAL!” She was draining out onto the table, the floor, splattering everywhere with each of his intense thrusts. The two could feel each other’s time building evenly, the reserve must have synced their time, she felt herself underneath his body being ravaged by his graceful might, her whole hull rocked in the harbor offshore in response to him. She occasionally caught her primary mouth drooling and her eyes rolling into the back of their mounts.

Anatoly felt all of her smooth graceful textures inside her amazingly tight and gripping cunt, all the reception buds of that magical life element, the slick hot coolant that filled her, a small recession in the bottom of her clit sinking it in at his push, and some suction tugging at his head. He wasn’t trusting of where that suction is going, and waited for the right moment to switch it up. Soon after the two were mounting in almost unbearable teasing wanting to cum so deep inside, but he changed his seemingly set mind and rushed his dick out leaving the tendril trying to follow and ride him more but he yanked it up to his mouth and French kissed it deeply and lovingly. One of her hands that went to pull his cock back into place latched onto it but changed rolls loosening the grasp and began stroking and caressing his meat in a hand-job. She was practically screaming when he reached as far as he could into her with his tongue and was trying to flip her vagina inside out with his sucking and eating. She couldn’t take any more, she let herself go and exploded against his face, drenching it and his clothes and spraying her silver goodness all around. He was tensed up from her reciprocating hand loving his boner, he went limp and sprawled into the chair behind him gushing streaks of white gloppy cum out onto the floor and edge of the table, her pussy still locked in his lips. They sat there breathing heavily and regrouping after such excruciating fun. Severstal noticed that she had sunk to the harbor bed, but still rose well above the water.

“Whenever we fuck, sweetie, I think I dive under, like some protection.” She paused every now and then to gasp.

“Stealth sex then.” He chuckled. “We’re stealth lovers.”

“Yeah, we are, damn that was good!”

“Kinda wanna start now.” He said aghast of air referring to a child. “The only thing is how?”

“You don’t pull out-”

“I know that but I mean.., how would it survive? What would it eat? Where would it sleep? How would we feed it? The message mentioned no suitable uranium rods would be fit for a sub that small and changing, so how?”

“I’ll tell you, I’ve thought about those for years. First birthing wouldn’t be bad, water helps but I’d breastfeed it first, that’s the first power source is me, so I would power it.”

“But that won’t last forever, or solves where it’d fit.”

“Probably next to me as a sub, within my reach. I always thought that I’d be able to carry it along until it was large enough for good sized uranium cells but now… as a humorph… I’d keep it inside my hull; still breast feed it but not, not as much obviously. I’m sure we would find some food for it. I mean, I can eat human food and use it as fuel, why not a humorph?”

“Yeah, that’ll work then, I guess.” He nodded and thought about where she’d birth it, she must have a hundred or so ports all around her hull. “Where would you birth it?”

“I can only grow it inside my vagina, which is at the underside of my hull exterior at about… mmmm…” She was feeling herself around the outside to place it right. “Midway in between my two prop shafts, right below my asshole.” He nodded then stopped.

“Wait your asshole?”

“Yes, I have an asshole, why’s that hard to believe?”

“What the hell do you use it for?”

“Ejections, it’s all manually loaded, not autonomous where I eat your sperm and I shit it out my ass-end. I can dump my rods into it as a failsafe, it’s lead lined and thick, but I shat out my rods into containers when I was getting them changed out. I think that’s what it was meant to do but it’s still sensitive.”

“How do you know that?”

“Well one time I tried ana-never mind.” He smiled.

“Anal.”

“Yes… anal… it wasn’t bad I liked it.” She thought dirty again. “I used a tendril… I think you’d do better.” He was puzzled, as he went on asking how she opened a locker near one of the exits to get a diver’s suit for him when she noticed the time.

“SHIT! We need to leave! We’ll be late!”

“It’ll be fine, only a hour late it’ll be good. We can try anal another time.” She raced out into the sea and steamed northward into a near week long voyage. They took a break from sex over the voyage to let their parts recover and forget the feeling, almost, to enhance the experience later. They did have lots of face sex; they made out nearly every hour, and had to take a face sex break for a day, too. Anatoly had to stay up late the night they docked, first having to chat to an arrogant snob working as harbor master then loading all his things and his brother’s gaming console that turned out to be Anatoly’s now since his brother got the new one.

“Oooohooo, I want to play! Come on honey let’s play a game!” She was excited over this but Anatoly wasn’t in the mood seeing how it was 0412 in the morning.

“No I’m not playing.”

“Awww, pleeeaase? I’ll let you sleep in! At least hook it up.” He scrounged up enough to set it up to a small TV monitor used to keep the crew entertained on long deployments. He then started it and handed her the wireless controller and let her figure it out from there heading off to bed where she cuddled with him while playing a racing game.

He woke up at around 1900 feeling like a wreck. He sluggishly crept out of bed and knocked on the wall for Severstal. She had written down on a paper that this day would last well into the night and that he’d be locked inside for the whole time. He looked around for an inventory of that she left out: sandwiches, water bottles, other vittles, then read if he needed to use the toilet to ask for ‘it’ and he decided he’ll hold it. He noticed the game still on and checked on her progress, she had made a new profile named ‘SubDub’ and was halfway through Forza four already and working on CoD MW2 campaign. He found her starting in the middle of the story a no-go and switched it to CoD 4 and moped about waiting. He decided to work out to pass time, he hadn’t done anything really active except fuck his sweetheart, again, and again, and again… Maybe I don’t need to work out. Following up he did work out then wolfed down the sandwiches and drank the water noticing he’d just had a four hour workout and fell in the bunk out of energy.

“Oh do please work out more often.” Severstal said seductively eyeing his shimmering sweaty pecks, abs, face, arms, all of his sweaty self. “It really turns me on.” She cradled him in manipulators and arm tendrils before removing his only clothing, pants, and rubbing his dick with the side of her vagina tendril. “Are you fucking me tonight? Or am I fucking you?” He happily sighed and dropped his head into her hand-pillow underneath him. “I’m fucking you then!” She dove down on his erecting member and took in all his growing size had to offer.

“Wait here in port?”

“Fuck cares? The tankers in front are fucking! They’re louder than us!” She sunk to the harbor floor and rode him, entranced in that feeling she was there bouncing on his joystick. His length tickling her deep insides stroking and expanding it’s tight hold while she seeped out her precum silver all over his mid-body and the bed.

Anatoly was truly exhausted, a good long workout and now this stimulation. He tried to stay awake but he fell short and passed out after a minute or two, and left Severstal to do as she pleased with him. She enjoyed herself fondly for about an hour before turning in for the night. She wasn’t too tired but wanted to dream desperately, they help her drive much towards their future. Anatoly woke up and found his body aching, something he hadn’t felt in a while and enjoyed it. He labored away organizing his stuff more and cleaning up anything he could to pass time. He became so bored out of his mind that he made a maid’s outfit out of towels, sheets, tape and dress shoes without the tongue. Severstal woke up and instantly questioned him.

“I was so bored I made this to go along with my cleaning.” He went back to dusting the dresser for the fourth time.

“Why didn’t you play the game?” He shrugged his shoulders. “Play with me, then.”

“Play the game, right?”

“Yes what else?”

“Play with ‘you‘.”

“No, let’s shoot each other.” She picked up a controller and waited for him to sync his controller and sign in. “I’m waiting for you to set it up.” He set up a lobby on Wet Work and started the game. “You don’t look interested, why not?”

“My brother and I played the shit out of this game.”

“Well you haven’t seen me.”

“No, just a warning my brother never beat me in this game.” She whooped his ass 71 in 16. “HOW THE HELL DID YOU DO THAT?!” He was completely flabbergasted. Severstal was laughing.

“I wish I did bet down on that!”

“WHY?! WHAT would you BET?!” He asked loud and mystified.

“Five kids! If I won we’d have five more to your limit!” He shook his head no with it slumped down.

“I wouldn’t have agreed to that!”

“So if you did what would you bet?”

“Five away from any you added.” They laughed at how the situation had turned.

“I still can’t believe you’re still wearing that damn thing.” She picked at his rag-tag outfit.

“It’s better than it looks, actually pretty comfy.”

“Well I don’t think it’s revealing enough.” She chipped in tugging at his pants under the outfit.

“It’ll be more revealing next time I throw it on, alright?” She uttered an unsatisfied grunt then picked up the controller.

“Again! That was fun!”

“Definitely a challenge. Maybe you won’t be so lucky next round!” He taunted invoking her to taunt and then put their skills to the test. She whooped him again but only marginally. A few more rounds later and they were equal rivals, but right as the all or nothing game was starting up Severstal put down the controller and pulled out of the port out to the open sea.

“Next one’s a long ways away, sweetheart.”

“Alright then, I’ve had enough anyway. I’ll probably eat something I’m starving.” He went to the kitchen and started lunch. Severstal thought about children more and more, craving to just have one already.

“Uuuhhhhggg!”

“You alright honey?”

“I just want a kid now! I can’t wait I’ve waited long enough!” She’s been sexually active all her service and fought her urges day after day when she had a crew. At times at the harbor she refused to let anyone board so nothing would be forced on them. She’s told Anatoly this beforehand but he never first hand saw her need festering that strongly until now, and felt sorry, very sorry.

“Hey uhh, Severstal?”

“What?” She sounded distraught and miserable.

“I did some looking around…”

“New recipe?” He’d talked before about learning and teaching her some courses and her vice versa and thought this even though she’s in heat because where he is.

“N-no, actually-” he paused, turning off the oven knowing what she’ll do next. “We only need to feed it about ninety-six percent…”

“So that means..?”

“Uh-hhuumppffrr!” She swarmed him with her tendrils, yanking off his outfit, pulling off his clothes, making out with him intensely, rubbing her clit on his bare skin to get a feel of him immediately.

“Bed!-(kiss)-The bed!” She groaned, pulling and pushing him through the hallway and then into the bunk with the vast assortment of manipulators relaying him along. He hit the mattress and he pushed off his underwear to release his huge aching cock craving to fulfill its natural duty.

“Do it sweetie!” She plunged him deep inside her, opening it all and baking his dick in her festered heat phase now being released. “So fucking hot!”

“SO FUCKING BIG!” She yells as he rolls her over and power fucks her a solid ten minutes and he still didn’t cum. “WHAT THE FUCK IS TAKING SO LONG! FFUUCCKK!” He felt it must have been the huge amount of her hot and extremely slick precum. Her fluids had breached his nerves within the first thirty second and he never felt better. He felt her start to constrict him strongly and heat up more, her voice must have been heard everywhere in her halls and corridors.

“Cum my love, cum my love! I’ll keep going let yourself free!” He tried encouraging her. Her intensity increased immensely, until she rocketed out her cum to the wall a meter from the bed post, he didn’t notice but felt himself growing closer. “Close! It’s getting close!” She assisted him bang her squeaky clean, pushing and pulling him in and out rapidly. “It’s here it’s HERE!” He clenched as his brain was hit with cumming inside her. It was like nothing he’d felt before. Severstal felt an enormous surge of… Anatoly. The fluids that seeped into him had altered the dosage of seamen to be a greater volume. He kept on pouring in while every ounce he oozed she felt and drooled over it. It was like nothing she’d conceived before, a new sensation altogether that no one could recreate. It was. Magnificent.

“Ooohhh, AAAnatooly! I’ve never been high but! This is definitely better! WAAAAAY BBEEEEETTTER!” She had to have him feel it. She opened up her nervous tap probe and inserted it to share her pleasure of drawing his seed deeper and deeper and deeper into her piping. He moaned and slumped over her vagina, also drooling and licking her tendril’s side.

“Hhholy-shhh,” He felt his little present travels through her, and he felt her, all of her, all of it. They felt and held their breath, waiting for the moment of truth, after six grueling and yet pleasurable minutes, the feeling climaxed and Severstal was officially pregnant.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you-” she chants in a low tired tone as her mouth moves to lock lips with him. They rest locked together by genital, nerve and oral means for what they want to be forever but Severstal sees that she’s moved faster than ever probably because of the adrenaline in the engines, and had dove to that special ‘sex depth’ she calls it. She breaks the surface and turns her focus to her love maker.

“Hey daddy, I’m too tired to do anything, I’m worn out.” He couldn’t find any power in his body to say something, his body just wanted to be locked and entangled with his Severstal.

“You look tired, dear.” An older feminine voice came from behind.

“Would you like to be towed?” A scruffy masculine voice also came from behind. Severstal looked back and saw the two ships from port; now that she had a view from the front she saw they were old 50’s freighters. She gladly accepted their help toward her destination a bit further than the freighters’. She was hitched to the couple and surprised by their power in pulling her easily. She closed her eyes in the evening sun and slept with Anatoly.

Fin The Great Typhoon II

The video game insert you ask? Well I had a shit ton of fun when my buddies reunited after a long-ass time of not seeing each other and played the shit out of CoD and it worked it’s way into the story for many reasons:

A. It shows how machines are much more similar to people than before.

B. It shows the competitive drive in Anatoly.

C. It brings them together.

D. It sets up a little game of theirs to play wagering how many offspring they’ll have (spoiler it doesn’t affect their decision it’s just for shits and giggles).

E. It shows that machines are versatile in their thought and mental processes along with being able to work hand-eye coordination quite well in Severstal’s case that isn’t gained by training or “programming” but more as learned by “growing up” and playing with their functions.

F. It was fun as shit with friends and I had to get these two youngsters into the more modern era some how so fuck it they game.

G. It’s a great time passing tool for them as well.

H. More reasons.

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

Kamov Redux

 

Ka-50 Black Shark Powerful Battle Helicopter2

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

story by CerebralError:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Filed under Cerebralerror · Tagged with , , , , ,