Mogami

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Filed under Gingyflame, Stories · Tagged with , ,

Fuso, The Gentle Giant

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

 

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

16JAN18:

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

Filed under Gingyflame, Stories · Tagged with , , ,

HaM Ch36

Ch 36
Prinz Eugen watched a sea turtle swim by her bridge. She watched it swim around her fore structure gracefully. A large tiger shark drew near, stalking the sea turtle around her. She seated at the shark with one of her manipulators. Shoo! Shoo! Leave the turtle alone! She had to strike the shark to deter it, the shark snapped at her hand but got a punch to the gills for it. It swam off as fast as it came. She listened in to the radio, it was early March, in the year twenty-twelve, the man on the radio was going ballistic about how the world is ending and yada, yada, Eugen turned the channel. This one was playing some smooth jazz, the music she was familiar with, it brought back memories. Good and bad. She thought about Bismarck and Rudolph, and Irish, and E, and losing the war, being turned over to the Americans, sexually confronted by some American ships that really liked her look, their sad faces when they eventually learned she wasn’t into them, promises of retirement, the bombings, rolling over and the pain that ensued, and then she opened her eyes again. This is retirement, blissful retirement. She groomed the reefs that had grown on her hull, she always thought of it as gardening. Her retirement was being laid down along an atoll and turning into an oasis for the ocean life, she gladly accepted it; she loved the ocean and would love to be more a part of it, but they took one of her propellers in honor and remembrance of her and her fellow ships and sailors. Later in the day a dive team came down, she felt people walking on her belly above the ocean waves. They were strange, however, they felt very heavy until they placed a box down on her belly, and the divers she saw made their way to her bridge before one of them swam up to the surface. She felt like she was being pecked at with needles and felt a surge zap through her body, the diver that went up returned and nodded at the other diver. They affixed their lights to her faceplate and shone the lights at themselves. One affixed a clasp to her body and turned a switch on his belt on, a green light flashes for a few seconds before it held still.
“Hallo? Guten Nachmittag.” Prinz Eugen was amazed, shocked, she hasn’t had anyone talk to her in decades. She scrambled her mind, this was very unexpected. She answered the man.
“Hello! Hello! Oh it has been decades since someone’s talked to me.”
“Hello, I am Tobias Hagan, grandson of Rupert Hagan-”
“I remember that name.”
“Yes, he served on the Bismarck, he knew Rudolph. Anyway we are here to ask you a question.”
“Go on.” Tobias looked to the other diver and they talked, he nodded and the other diver went away.
“We are offering to raise you from the seabed and restore you to your maritime standards.” She came out of hiding, her eyes were wide and her mouth agape, she never thought anyone would do this. “If you want, it is all up to you.” She thought. “Please.., all the others said no. You’re the last resort.” She looked him in the eyes; his brown eyes agreed that what he said was truth.
“I’ll think on it. How long will you be here?”
“We’re setting up a camp on the atoll.” She never broke eye contact with him; she saw something that flooded her with memories. Memories filled with Irish and her. She saw that twinkle in his eyes, his want for her to sail again, the openness of his heart. She saw his desire for her, not anything near sexual but that he wanted to see her sail again, see her take to the seas like his grandfather did. That night after they headed ashore she thought about it long and hard. She had asked questions like what would happen to the reefs on her, they would be destroyed, the safety she gave the fish, it would disappear, and she didn’t like the answers but he did promise that they could sink a ship in her place. “That,” she decided to tell Tobias the next morning, “is the only way I’ll agree.” After some phone calls the deal was made.
Because he was the only one who knew how to use the equipment, Tobias was the only one to talk to Prinz Eugen. He kept her occupied by talking about his family history, starting with how his grandfather escaped Bismarck’s sinking, his grandfather moving to America, his family being raised and learning German through his grandfather, his own four years in the U.S. Navy, how he came across this project and how the other four ships turned down the offer. Eugen wasn’t sure if it was the lack of interaction that made her attracted to Tobias or if she genuinely felt attracted to him but either way she didn’t want him to leave and it pained her when he did. A few days later she saw the hulls of at least three ships. Those three ships were a dredge, a specialized salvage ship that was towing a huge barge, and a boat bus to haul her to port. They began by excavating various parts of her and collecting loose debris and putting them on the barge. Next they reinforced her hull with specialized metal before the final step of excavating the water took place. Because she rolled over and per-say snapped her neck her bridge was on the barge watching them pick up her hull and roll it upright before it was towed to deeper water and placed on the boat bus. With everything set she demanded to watch her replacement be sunk, it was an old Russian oil tanker from her own era. She watched as eight charges blew out the sides and the ship dropped about eight meters into the water along the atoll. Satisfied, Eugen was taken across the land to the Atlantic Ocean. She talked to Tobias, who she begged to keep her company on the voyage. He talked to her about some stuff on television that’s not on the radios and when that was exhausted he thought he’d bring up some future plans.
“We’re not really a global interest yet, but we’ll be one soon.”
“Why? Raising ships is a pretty phenomenal feat isn’t it? And what soon will make you one?”
“Well Eugen you are a pilot, if you can’t be raised and rebuilt-mind you that you’re already raised and there’s nothing new about rebuilding ships-then the countries that are interested will pull out funding. Since word that the pilot has been raised got out, the countries like Britain, France, Belgium, Norway, Japan, America, Germany, Spain, Russia, and a few other satellite countries have shown greater interest and have asked for a few ships to be tested for the grounds to be raised. The next ship that we’re looking at that was proposed is German.”
“What ship?” Not too many ships came to mind that Germany would have rightful interest in.
“A close friend to you and someone close to my grandfather.” Eugen couldn’t believe who came to mind.
“Bismarck!?” He nodded. “Why? Germany tried to bury the Nazis and all of their doings long ago! Why raise one of the symbols of their power?!” She combed the deepest parts of her mind for that reason, she saw a kind friend and a lovely woman, but she knew the world would see hate, tyranny, violence and oppression. Bismarck would be considered Auschwitz II, Eugen favored Bismarck too much to let that happen to her. She wasn’t going to let them make her friend feel like a death camp affiliated with hate and tyranny. She would try her damn hardest not to let them do that. “No! It would ruin her!”
“Hold on-”
“No! Don’t raise her to be another reason why we shouldn’t let tyranny rule! Don’t use her as an example of hate and oppression! She’s not like that at all!”
“Eugen! Stop!” She shut up; he was looking at her in the eyes. “They already know she’s alive, or at least that she once was, they don’t want to make her another Auschwitz.”
“Then what are they using her for?!” Eugen demanded. Tobias was silent, he slowly spoke again.
“They want to either make her a German maritime museum or somehow incorporate her into the navy again.”
“Why the navy again? We’ve had our time in the sun and now it’s the carrier and missile systems. And what will happen to me?”
“You’re an easy one to answer; you’ll be a nuclear museum, because of your dealings with the bombs in the pacific you’ll be affiliated with them. German and American companies are co-owners of you when we’re done.” When he said co-owners Eugen shivered, she didn’t like that term.
“Could we not refer to them as that?”
“What would you call them?”
“General Managers, X-Os, I’d like to think I still have freedom to do what I will and decide not to do anything.”
“That’s alright. But Bismarck.., I guess they’d fix her like the Americans did the Iowas. Improve her fire control-”
“Impossible.”
“-and upgrade her A-A battery, put on some missiles and missile defenses, maybe put some torpedoes on like they did to Tirpitz-hey, did you know.., Tirpitz?” He asked awkwardly, as so he doesn’t stir any emotions within her more; Tirpitz was afloat for years before she rolled over, and even after that she was intact until she was scrapped.
“No, Tobias, she wasn’t alive. Bismarck was supposed to be the flagship and thus have the best capability. How sad.”
“Yeah-how sad.” Eugen was quiet before she spoke again.
“I actually don’t know if she was alive. I never really saw her nor talked to her. Meeting Bismarck and figuring she was alive was an accident.” Tobias stirred and grabbed his gut.
“I really hope she was dead-metal.” Eugen knew why, being slowly ripped apart after drowning your only friends wouldn’t be a good way to go out. They were quiet for the rest of the day. Eugen prayed for Tirpitz, if she was once alive she prayed that she was in good company now and feeling good and resting peacefully. Eugen nearly cried thinking about it all. She was in awe of the canals, how so much had changed yet so little was really different. They rounded the Florida coast and sailed north to the Pennsylvania docks. There was already a slot ready for her and right next to it was a massive slot for Bismarck.
“Why is Bismarck going to be taken all the way over here to be restored?”
“Well, this is our place. So that’s why.” He leaned close to her and whispered something. “And besides, don’t you wanna see your friend soon?” He smirked and patted her armor.
“Why so close? Tobias?” He was caught off guard.
“What do you mean?”
“You got real close to me. Why did you touch me like that? Something deeper than most think? Huh?” He snickered about it and left. Ha! I think he likes me. She couldn’t help but smile.
He was going out to help retrieve Bismarck and he was talking to Eugen, she either wanted to go with him and nerve keep Bismarck happy or he wasn’t going, she really didn’t want to leave her only friend. Other people would talk to her in bad German or English, asking the lucky ship about her stories and she was happy to tell. Some of the vets and sea salts told their own stories and while she had friends Tobias was the only real friend that she liked. She was forced into a compromise, she would talk to him with her radio and when Bismarck came up she would join in.
“Maybe I’ll meet Rudolph.”
“You haven’t met him? I thought you would have at least talked once.”
“Oh no I talk to him, too. I meant I would see him and shake his hand so to say. He’s a nice guy. I hope he’s still alright.”
“My grandfather feels responsible to this day about it, he says it’s like the scar that is always there, tormenting your conscious and making you believe that you’ll burn in hell and that you rightfully earned it. I think he just needs closure, he never really knew what happened to him.”
“Is your grandfather still alive?”
“Yes he was walking without a cane last week but, his health turned for the worst recently, I don’t want him to die yet. I want to find him some closure first.” He leaned against her freshly cleaned wall and sighed. Some tears formed in his eyes. “I really don’t want him to die.” Eugen knew he was starting to sob, her external arms were pinned under her bridge but her internal arms could comfort him. She opened the door to the bridge and led him inside.
“Tobey, what if I told you that Rudolph and Bismarck are still alive?” He stopped sobbing and listened, one of her cleaner and more functioning arms picked up his chin. “Ever since she sank all those decades ago we have been talking, talking with our radios. I haven’t heard from them in a month but they’re still there. If he can hold out for maybe a few days I could help him talk to Rudolph.” Tobias perked up; he rubbed his eyes and got up.
“He’ll pull through, he’s gotten through worse. I’ll tell him we should have Bismarck here by the end of next month.”
“There you go!” He started to walk out of the bridge, he paused at the door.
“Did you call me Tobey?” Eugen thought.
“Did I?”
“You did.” She apologized. “No, no, it’s fine.” He left for the day, the next day his little fleet of ships sailed off to get Bismarck. Eugen watched in distress as they left. Later her radio sparked to life.
“Hello? Eugen you still there!?” It was Bismarck. Eugen rejuvenated at the sound of her friend.
“Bismarck! You’ll never guess what’s going to happen to you!”
“What? I’m going to guess another movie is being made. Rudolph what do you think is going to happen to us?” – “Uhhhh.., a memorial or something like they did to the Titanic? I don’t know, honey.”
“You are being raised from the bottom!” There was a long pause on their end.
“Eugen, are.., are you alright?” Bismarck thought that Eugen had gone mad. After Eugen had assured Bismarck and Rudolph that she had not gone mad they talked in denial again. “Yeah, they also said that they’d raise the Titanic with ping-pong balls but that hasn’t happened.”
“No-no-no-no-no! Trust me; I’m sitting in a dock in Pennsylvania because they raised me! They have a plan to get you guys, too!” Eugen paused. “Well, my hull is. My bridge is sitting along the slipway.” Bismarck laughed a little bit.
“Well if you really are sitting there, why are they doing that and what did they do?” Eugen told them everything she knew they did. By the time she finished her explanation Bismarck and Rudolph were excited so much.
“We’ll finally sail again!”
“We could actually hold each other!”
“I’ve longed so much to see the sun again!”
“Oh it’s been so long I almost forgot what it looked like!”
“We could finally have kids!”
“We could see our friends again!” Rudolph stopped, he only had a few people he considered friends. They were Bismarck, Prinz Eugen, and Hansel Walter. He thought about how long it’s been, how the war still ravaged for so long, the dangers Germany went through after the war, he sat down on Bismarck’s bridge deck and leaned against her. He spoke solemnly. “We could see Eugen again, that is.”
“Don’t feel down, my little reindeer, I’m sure he’s still out there.” She massaged his shoulders-they both knew deep down that she was wrong.

December, 1944
Hansel jumped awake. He was breathing heavily and looking around, he was confused. Marion felt him stir and wrapped arms around him. She picked up his blanket and tucked him in his sleeping mat again. He was lying on her engine deck for the night, right above her warm engine vents. She laid her arms on his body and asked what he dreamt about.
“I-I don’t know. I saw a sunken ship that was raised up, and there was the ocean, and then that ship talked to another one, also sunk. Then I saw a bigger ship, a German one, and the sky was white and bright and the ocean was flat and blue, and I saw an old friend. They thought I was dead.” Marion lulled him back to sleep; they had much to do the next day. While Hansel drifted to sleep he thought, whenever dreams were that real to him they always came true, always. From his car to the war to being a tanker, even meeting Marion, they all came true. He didn’t want this one to happen, he wanted to prove this one wrong, he wanted to prove Rudolph and.., Bismarck, prove them wrong and be there. Through and through he was going to get through it all, he’ll get through it with Marion. That was his promise to his friend.
Fin Ch 36

HaM Chapter 33

Well guys, here’s chapter 33. This is longer than the last ones and so this has more plot line. I sent a copy to my friend to proofread and he instantly asked “should I watch out for any porn?” Sadly there is none and I told him this so he started off with his own. “She fucked him in his tailpipe.” So there you go. There’s porn from my friend.

Ch 33
“She’s pretty new, uh she’s..,” Inbred hesitated, he wasn’t really sure where to start. There was so much he wanted to brag about regarding her but he couldn’t figure out where.
“Anything you’d like to know?” Eryka spoke confidently, filling in for his speechlessness.
“Yeah!” Banker started. “What the hell did you do to our tiny Inbred!?” Hansel didn’t notice but he was bigger, as Banker stood next to him Hansel saw that Inbred was taller by a few inches, not much, but was thicker in his arms and probably the rest of his body. From Banker’s perspective he clearly saw Inbred has swollen up, he had larger muscles everywhere. Not only that but his once light blue veins were now a gray color, there was some gray at the start of his fingernails and at the base of his hair, along the corners of his eyes the veins were metallic and as he smiled there was metallic tinge to his teeth, like he has some cavities filled with silver.
“Well..,” she started.
“We kinda..,” Banker wasn’t amused. He wanted to know what she did to his friend. “You’ll understand in time.” Marion asked a not so touching question, and from there they learned she was bigger than E, not bigger than E and Jäger combined, she had similar suspension to E, a fifteen centimeter gun, and thicker armor than E all-round, she had a much stronger engine but was still pretty slow because of the weight needed to be moved. That’s when the serious question came up again. Eryka kinda held it within herself but then blurted out.
“I don’t want him to get hurt.” Marion looked intrigued. “I love him! I do! I don’t want him to leave me; if I’m breached I don’t want him to be shot.” It was an awkward silence before Inbred broke the silent snap.
“Really she wasn’t too happy how thin I was.”
“That’s not true.”
“Then why’d you overfill me?”
“To be sure no gun would hurt you! You were too thin!”
“You said it! I was too small!” They continued this jesting bickering playfully. While this happened Cindy woke up, she rubbed her eyes and looked around. Everybody was in their usual groups and nobody was moving, they were there. She happily threw off the tow cables and went to make laps around Marion when she came around her side and saw Eryka. She instantly stopped in fear and pushed herself back and behind Marion, shuddering against her.
“What’s wrong, Cindy?” She went and held Cindy, trying to comfort her. “The big tank scare you?” Cindy nodded. “Don’t be afraid, I won’t let her hurt you. Go ahead, say hi.” She moved Cindy to her side and inched her forward. Cindy caught Eryka’s eye, she had never seen a Sherman in person before.
“H-H-H-Hi” she stammered.” Marion turner her turret and whispered to her. “M-M-My name is C-C-Cindy.” Eryka smiled to her.
“Hello Cindy, my name is Eryka.” While Cindy warmed up to Eryka Whacker went inside Marion and plucked Hansel and Meats inside and rapped on Marion’s wall to get her attention.
“We need to tell Cindy about Allison and the Major.”
“What do we tell her?” Meats went on. “Tell her that she’s a prisoner and a pet?” Hansel shook his head no. “Well then how are we going to keep this all under wraps?” Marion piped up.
“I’ll tell her everything, don’t worry about it.” She suppressed anything else. Once Eryka had befriended Cindy Marion pulled her in front of her and told her. “Cindy there’s another new person here as well, he’s the new Major and his tank, Allison, and they are bad people.”
“How?”
“They would want to kill you, to hurt you; they want nothing but bad things to happen to you.”
“D-D-Do they know I’m here?!” She visibly trembled, Eryka closed in to help comfort her.
“Yes, but wait! We made a story for you.”
“Why?”
“So they won’t hurt you. We said you’re a pet-like Franz the cat, you like him-and that we’re keeping you. But you are not a pet, you are a beautiful little girl, but whenever they are around you need to do exactly as we say and not talk back, okay?” Cindy was still shivering with fear; her eyes darted around looking for people she didn’t recognize.
“Where are they now?” Marion, Eryka, Inbred, Meats, Whacker, Banker, and Hansel all looked for the two.
“They’re over there.” Eryka pointed to them, Cindy memorized what they looked like for her own safety.
“How’d you come up with that lie?” She asked very interested. Marion was mind blank.
“Banker came up with it.” Cindy turned around her turret.
“That’s cool! Could you show me how to lie?!”
“It’s an art that’s hard to teach.”

Irish walked the decks of his old friend, Prinz Eugen. They were on their way home after bombarding the Russians in support of Germans pulling out of the area, E and him used that time to practice long range fire, after a few misses, butting heads, and E finally letting Irish work his magic, they were nailing Russians like nothing before. While Eugen wasn’t too thrilled about getting that close to the shore she did enjoy pummeling infantry with AA guns and bombarding probable artillery positions, which were being used by Russians as it turned out to be. Irish had feelings for E, and he felt like she might of had some for him but she was, different, day to day. One day she’s nice, sweet, motivated and talkative, others she’s silent, hard, downright evil and caring only about her needs, like her doses of Russian tears and blood. She was still on the stern section where they put her, and as Irish walked aft he felt his heart beating in his throat, seemingly choking him, and he had to get some air in so he stopped by the most rear turret to catch his breath. He had told Eugen his intentions to her depression, but she still supported him anyway. Unknown to him Eugen was trying to be his wingman, and was trying to warm E up to the idea of loving a human. It wasn’t working. Irish was against the turret out of E’s sight and could hear the two talking. He listened with dread, remorse, and anguish as E declined anything, she said it was disgusting, unnatural to love another species, it was degrading that such people would do such a thing, how vile, wretched, dishonorable, and overall something that she nor any other machine and person shouldn’t stoop so down too. It completely crushed Irish, even after Eugen tried saying he had feelings for E, E simply brushed it off as ‘his fault’ and that was enough to completely crush Irish. He broke down, storming to his quarters where he slept it away. He wasn’t heard from until a few hours from docking. He didn’t appear different to E, but he was somewhat more reserved to himself. E wasn’t anything different.
“You’ve changed.”
“Sure.”
They said on the train ride to the rally point. They had specific instructions to remain elusive to the Allies, not to be found but rather to hunt from afar. That upset E a lot, and it soothed Irish’s worries of brawling. Irish received word that the Major was a SS officer; he and Edwards had worked with the SS before, usually saving their asses, but wasn’t thrilled about it. E was excited.
“Finally someone who will demand something!” They weren’t expecting what they’d find waiting for them, however.
Fin Ch 33

HaM Ch 29

Here’s a little update of HaM, but mostly Irish and E, it’s pretty small, though. Next I’ll put up part II of IS-3-way, only it’s not really a 3-way anymore so the name doesn’t fit anymore.., I need a new one.

Enjoy!

Chapter 29

Marion woke up shivering, she felt weak, brittle, and open. Hansel was sleeping in a heavy sack on her engine roof; she woke him up with fright in her voice. He woke up and instantly tried calming her and finding out what troubled her. Soon Cindy, too, rolled to them shivering.

“M-M-M-M-Mar-r-rr-rion, I’m c-c-c-cold! Could w-w-we hu-hu-hu-hud-d-d-ddle?” She was shivering worse than Marion, because of her smaller size and thinner skin. Marion welcomed her over and pulled her close to share their body heat that they generated. “R-R-Run y-y-y-yer eng-gg-gine.”

“Why, dear?” Marion asked as Hansel tried to spread his spare sheets and jackets over them. Cindy was puzzled then understood.

“Oh this your first winter,” She was warming up fast and snuggled against her massive overseer, “momma said that when winter comes we get cold and weak. We need time to adjust to it before we’re comfortable. Just wait a few days and we’ll feel better.” Marion stroked the top of her turret.

“You feel better, darling?” Cindy nodded.

“Mommy and daddy would put me between them so I’d feel better.” Marion said she felt better as well and turned her engine on very low to save fuel, Hansel laid back down in his spread out sleeping back and enjoyed her engine lulling him to sleep.

————————–

E looked up at the huge battlecruiser Prinz Eugen and felt small for the first time. She had her mouth agape and her lust skyrocketing over the twenty-eight centimeter guns. She got wet as she enviously stared at those eight guns. She couldn’t help but cower and lower her hull.

“Feel small?” Irish asked from behind her in a playful smile. E didn’t answer right away but with:

“I want those guns..,” she drooled over them; Irish looked over her as he strode past her and hoped that Eugen wouldn’t turn her sexuality.

“I fired them way back, well aligned them to what I was told.”

“What else?”

“Well, I aligned the guns, fired them, used the rangefinders in the turrets, and turned the turret. Well not at one time, I’d switch roles for the duties.” He looked at her and noticed she was genuinely interested by him. “You wanna know how it all works?” She nodded fast without removing her gaze from him. He explained how it all works as they waited for direction. Then a cocky and stuck up enlisted first class seamen walks up and tries to boss them around. Irish smiled down at the loud speaking overstepping kid.

“I said move, tanker.” He snickered. Irish stopped E before she could do anything.

“Kid let me tell you something, I out rank you and you will address me as such.” The seamen narrowed his eyes at him.

“You sit on my base, under our order, you listen to me.., sarge.” Irish pulled some papers from his ID pouch and slid down off E.

“Look here, I outrank you, seamen first class, and you will respect me as such.” He showed him identification that denoted Irish as Chief Gunnery Officer. The enlisted’s face looked horrified and instantly snapped to attention.

“My apologies, sir.”

“At ease.” He asked again where he was to go and was taking E there. “Oh and next time you confront anybody, you show respect, seamen.”

“Sir yes, sir.” He led E to the direction given.

“How? I don’t get it.”

“I’m a higher rank in the Wehrmacht, but first I was an honor grad at camp and highly liked by the officers, and Eugen, and rose fast into chief gunner officer, it’s about Sergeant First Class.”

“How do you have it still?”

“Well due to some recommendation by officers that went up and up I was found by some tank generals and soon I was volun-told to switch. I was moved over and promoted to First Sergeant as compensation. Actually I left her my uniform; I might get that back while we’re here.” They stuck to the path when Irish veered her off.

“Why?”

“Fuck that they want us next to the shit loaded last, I’m taking us up front.” He took her to the bow where Eugen instantly spotted him. They were ordered on by Eugen instantly, and E was taken to the stern for more operating space. Irish was met by her with intensity.

“My little gunny!” Eugen sounded in his head and E’s. “You came back!” She hugged him discretely as he stood near the rear turret, he stroked her arms.

“You miss me?”

“Hell have I missed you! You aren’t leaving again are you?”

“Sorry but we’ll be leaving in a few days. You’re the boat?”

“Ship.” Irish and Eugen said in unison. “Aww, really?” Eugen asked.

“Yup, sorry. I missed you, and the sea, so much.” E watched and listened, she knew how to mentally think to each other, and thought to herself alone. Are they together or something? How can she even think about him? They’re so small and that’s for me, I’m small to her so how would he even be worth full to her? It’s wrong; she should have a ship, a real man for her to ride. At least she’d feel him. She looked at them somewhat disgusted, yet also somewhat intrigued. What draws them together like that? She wasn’t sure. She shook it off and looked out towards the sea.

Fin Chapter 29

It Was R.M.S.Titanic

If you didn’t figure it out don’t worry. Not many people care. But I do and I care at an extraordinary level. She has influenced my whole life, and is most responsible for my mechanophilia. I love her, I know extreme amounts of facts on her, a vast collection of books, posters, magazines, blueprints, models, and of the likes. When the day comes that she collapses on the seafloor I will weep. I will weep and I don’t know why other than it has been a huge influence on my life and my only wish other than wishing living machines were real but ahead of raising her is seeing her in person, two and a half miles down. To simply touch the thick glass that separates the sea and the cabin of a sub, to look upon her with my own physical eyes. Not to disturb her, or remove any artifacts as so many demons that deserve to burn in the deepest hell for desecrating a WORLD WIDE MEMORIAL for the 1,500+ souls who lost their lives in three hours of historical legend. If you want to know anything on her, you can ask me and I’ll tell you. Or you could Google it but BE CAREFUL! Some cites aren’t legit but most are. And yes, Titanic existed, she’s no myth, she’s no story, she’s no fucking movie prop. She is real, and she is physically fading away, and she will live on in the hearts and minds of the many that know her story. Such as I do.

The Titanic

Now please enjoy this post I wrote from the bottom of my heart and the full devotion of my mind. It is the longest post other than the HaM complication at 28 pages and I’m sorry for it being so long. I devoted eight days to writing this and they were the most productive days I’ve ever written.

TITANIC

Bradley turned the external sub lights on to light up the abyss. He was met with nothing but the slate gray seabed. What a view! Worth the two hour wait, fucking sucked. Bradley had descended two and a half miles in two hours in the North Atlantic in search of his childhood legend. She was the finest of the sea, the largest afloat, the most elegant, majestic, safest, and recognized liner in the world. He dreamed of this day forever and as he had flashbacks the light shone on a tall green-black rust covered megalith. He snapped back and leaned close to the six inch thick glass and read his dream to life.

“T-I-T-A-N-I-C” he stopped the sub before it ran into the bow of this dream and sat stunned and in disbelief, he had just read her name with his own eyes. “Sojourner one this is Destiny four… I found her. Over”

“Copy that Destiny. We thought you died on the way down Brad. Over.” He begged the crew to let him go down alone, they’d been scrounging up a map of the debris field to measure the change in soil there, the tides were most definitely moving the earth there and the current threatened to bury Titanic at any time. This was on the way back and they were ahead of schedule with time, funds, and fuel to spend to meet the quota so it was allowed.

“Nope, I didn’t die. Thankfully I’m alone with her and I didn’t need to pull the card on them to clear it.” He looked at the card in his pocket; it was government authorized notice that would have forced them to send him down alone. Bradley Sanderson wasn’t just Deep Sea Explorer but also part of the government memorial protection services, or MPS, and the plan was to allow the extra day and resources and on its way already was two heavy lift ships modified for the specific task and another deep sea ship loaded with specific gear for the daring task planned.

Bradley moved the sub to the remnants of the bridge and extended a metal rod from the hull to contact the metal hull of the Titanic. He flipped numerous switches, turned countless dials, and pushed several buttons with expertise and purpose searching for that one reading the instruments were displaying. At once he exclaimed ‘godit’ and turned on a microphone and spoke softly, hiding his excitement.

“Hello? Hello? Is anyone there? Hello?” He waited for what seemed like forever. Minutes went by, he glanced at the time and was about to switch it all off and try again when a polite and lovely voice sounded from the speakers.

“My God do please forgive me! It has been so long I’ve forgotten how to speak, dear. How embarrassing of me.” He couldn’t believe it; here he was at the bottom of the ocean talking to his dream. He slapped himself hard and continuously to try waking him up but it was real, he fumbled on the mic and blubbered something inaudible. “Come again? I didn’t quiet catch that last part. Was it something about the color blue?”

“No-no-no-no-no! No it was I can’t believe I’m talking to you!”

“Ah! That makes more sense. So dear would you be so kind as to tell me how long it’s been since I sailed last?”

“Over a hundred years ago.” His stomach was in his throat. “One hundred and two years, actually.”

“Bligh me. One hundred years…” Her voice trailed off. It wasn’t an old womanly voice but more of a mature, perhaps thirty year old voice. “Do please stay, you’re the first I’ve talked to since I sailed and the others don’t stay for long.”

“I have a proposition to make to you, Miss Titanic.”

“Please just call me Titanic, none of the miss or its likes please. But you have my interest.”

“How would you like to sail again?” She was silent for a while, he wondered if the connection failed or timed out. “Miss Titanic did you hear m-”

“Didn’t I ask you not to call me a miss?” He sighed.

“Yes ma’am. Is ma’am acceptable?”

“Yes dear. Ma’am is fine.” She was quiet again. Bradley held his breath and tried to cope with his joy, his excitement, his outrageous want to explode inside him.

“You know dear, I think I’ll accept your offer.”

“Is that a definite yes mi-Titanic?” Another bundle of quiet seconds.

“Yes. It’s a yes.” He let it out, all his excitement. “Dear I don’t remember catching your name.”

“Bradley! Bradley Sanderson! I’m at your service Titanic.”

“Very well. So Bradley how is this all worked out?” He explained it to her after relaying the news to the ships sailing to lift her and carry her to the New York harbor to refuel then to the Pennsylvania shipyards for restorations. Then he thought about her story, he had to ask.

“Titanic, are you alright?”

“Fine dear, a little rusty and holed but I’m fine.”

“I mean…”

“My past? I know. I was supposed to be the safest ship afloat, the largest and safest. How ironic is it? The largest and safest ship afloat… sank on her maiden voyage taking the record amount of victims down with her?” She sounded sorrow. “I’ve moved along, what’s done is done. There’s no escaping it. Bradley, a little wisdom; don’t dwell in the dealt hand, charge through the future with all your strength to the better end.”

“Thank you Titanic.”

“Speaking of the end, where are my sisters? Did Gigantic turn out bigger and better? Did Olympic get over her depression? How are they?” Hard time for Bradley, he had to break the news to her.

“Gigantic never launched. She was renamed Britannic and was smaller than Olympic with many more lifeboats installed. She never transported passengers, either, she was converted to a hospital ship when World War One broke out and rammed a mine in the Mediterranean Sea, the only deaths were idiots trying to get off early and were diced by her props as she steamed to the beach to try beaching. She’s still there in diving depth, a friend of mine tested this equipment out on her, she was nice and helpful and plans are to raise her but the complication is she’s on her side, not upright.”

“Oh dear, she save any of our boys?”

“Hundreds. She even had herself a sweet heart for a term.”

“Marvelous. How’s Olympic?”

“She served as a troop transport and survived many attempts to sink her, from deck guns to a mine. She was nicknamed ‘Ol Reliable. Sadly after the war the Cunard line bought out White Star and they…”

“They did what? Tell me. Surely I can take the news.”

“They scrapped her.” She was silent. “You still alright?”

“Fine. I’m fine. Just a little disappointed in her. See ever since she was rammed by that cruiser she was depressed, she didn’t feel adequate enough. She’s been saying they’d scrap her in short time, she was sure of it. Too bad for her.” He noticed the air meter was close to time to rise so he sadly said his goodbyes. The last thing he heard from her was “Goodbye Bradley. Good luck! I’ll be here a while.”

He emptied the ballast tanks, moved off of her hull and dropped the weights to ascend faster. He daydreamed in the tempting dark of how much hell she went through. He reached the surface and saw that four ships had arrived; he figured that one heavy lift and one deep sea ship for the bow and stern each. He was hoisted onto the mother ship and met by a very pissed captain.

“Bradley you no good sonofabitch! What the hell are they doing with all that recovering shit!? That’s a gravesite and you know it! You DON’T mess with the dead!”

“We’re not messing with the dead. Only the living ship.” With that he pushed through and boarded a RHM boat to ferry him to the ship staying to send down RC craft to work on repairing the Titanic’s hull then prep for raising. He boarded, shit, and slept in that order. He awoke the next morning to hear the news. The RC subs have coated Titanic in Residue XR, basically it breaks off the rust, fortifies the hull metal, and preps it for the transaction to the surface, and he heard that she was being emptied right then, the residue helps seal the holes and is assisted by a filament, all the while the mud was excavated from the bow and stern to free her ascent. She had a special request that Bradley be there with her for the journey up. He agreed and went to prepare himself immediately. He readied up, boarded the sub alone, and was told that it’d be a wait of ten minutes estimated once he reached her until they’d be brought up. Then he was lowered down where he spent an hour and a half asleep, trusting of their reliable computers to ferry him down, and embarrassingly had a very naughty dream about him and Titanic. He landed his sub at the same place yesterday and hooked up to her.

“Good morning dear! I’m told it is morning, is it not?” He chuckled at her eagerness.

“Yes it’s still morning. They treating you right?”

“Oh absolutely! I haven’t felt this sturdy in years, dear.”

“Ready to see the sun again?”

“To be honest, dear, I’ve never seen anything. You see I have no eyes. I feel everything around and inside me, but figuratively yes! I’m ready to feel the sun again!” She went on about her marvelous story; he knew every detail but was intrigued by her rendition because of its point of view. He was radioed that preparations were complete and was asked if she was ready.

“Let’s finish this voyage!” With that she leapt into the sea with her restraints severed, they were told it would be a two hour journey to the surface.

“Two hours? I remember reaching the bottom in less than five minutes! How far did I sink?”

“Your depth was at two and a half miles.”

“Well then, going up is harder than going down.” He smiled then noticed his Jiminy Cocket was going up easy and was rather embarrassed by it, he found her very attractive but felt ashamed about it.

“We’ve two hours to kill, any ideas?” She pondered.

“You know I’ve never had anyone to flirt with.” Of all things she had to pick that. As if she wasn’t hot enough. “Oh yes I think that’ll be fun! Let’s talk nasty to each other! Come on Bradley, you lead!” He wasn’t going to say no to her.

“Duh, um, errr, you’ve got…der…a sexy bow.” He had never tried flirting with a machine.

“Ooo, I’m interested… go on, get me riled up!”

“Alright, uhhh…” He looked to his blueprints and paintings of her in one of his books. “Ah you have a banging hot bridge.” He was at least trying.

“I lost that, but okay.”

“Those smokestacks, damn they get me.”

“Hmm, I forgot about those.”

“You’re mast is as straight as I am right now.” He meant was not is, they were as straight as hard as he was.

“Well seeing how bent and crooked my bow mast is right now… I think I’ll pass on that one.”

“I meant was, you’re mast was as straight as I am now.”

“Better… go on.”

“Your ass is perfect,”

“Well my arse is gone but nice try. I have been complimented on it before so I get you.” He let his tongue slip.

“Oh I’d ravage that ass all night long. I mean pound the shit outta that so fast.”

“Oooh, now you’re talking.” He had the sense she had a naughty smile in her complexion.

“Mmm I’d fuck you all night long and longer!” He freaked out and made sure that the coms to the surface were off and thanked God they were off.

“Well, Mister Bradley, let me-”

“If I can’t call you a miss you can’t call me a mister.”

“Let me tell you how I’d frolic with you…” He unzipped his pants; he was going for it in the cabin of the sub. She started the dirtiest thing he could ever imagine her saying and further, she went on for forty-five minutes and all the while he’d never fapped that intensely before in his life. When she finished he was breathing heavily and had cum into a rag about six times. He got back on the mic to talk to her when she started laughing.

“Did I get you Bradley?” He couldn’t lie.

“… Yes…” She laughed some more.

“Huh, you’ll have to forgive me dear; I didn’t think I was that good at it.” He starred down at his dwindling cock and begged otherwise. They decided to tell jokes for the rest of the time, he beat her there.

“I’ll take care of you, Titanic; you can count on me to be there.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Yes it’s a promise. Through all the restoration and test runs, I’ll be there.” She felt something else for him, nobody was that committed to her before and she felt his willingness to do as he said. To do anything she desired. She felt the pressure drop to where it was almost gone, she quivered in fright, would she hold or would she disintegrate? The moment of truth came when she felt the water vaporize from her upper parts and quickly work its way down her hull to below her old waterline.

“Alright Titanic don’t freak out but you’re going to feel something odd on your belly.” His voice was calming, suddenly she felt cold metal on her belly and then the water receding from her hull exterior. Finally she felt only warm air around her, no ocean water, only air, air and metal.

“Thank you for the heads up dear.” She felt a rather close feeling approaching. “Bradley what’s coming up from behind us?” He was working his way out of the manhole when he twisted around to see her stern section, a poor jumbled mess of twisted, ripped and torn metal, bare of rust, though.

“Um, your ass.”

“Does it look delectable, Bradley?” She giggled remembering their flirtatious game. He paused trying to word how it nicely even though it appeared Thor came down and beat the shit out of it with his hammer. To put into perspective there’s a phase for how badly beaten something is in the stern’s memory.

“Well… it will soon enough.”

“Delightful.” They voyaged towards New York Harbor where Titanic was eagerly awaiting to finally complete her maiden voyage. The days were endless for her, except she knew they ended because she could feel the sun beading down in daylight. At night time she would talk to him. He explained to her she was an intentional tier I class sentimental. She knew already she communicated telepathically and how she could hear his direct thoughts to her, and obviously she knew she couldn’t see but when he brought up the reproductively she floundered and choked.

“It’s fine, we’re going to fix you up to tier II, there you can see, taste, smell, and if you ask we can put some repos on you.”

“They will be where I want them, right?”

“Correct.”

“And the yardmen won’t go where I say not to go?”

“They shouldn’t. Why?”

“Because just replace the boilers and reciprocators. Don’t go in them too dangerous.” She blurted out defensively.

“That, yeah we’re not putting new boilers and that in you. No we’re setting you up with the modern stuff, turbines, pressure tanks, electric stuff and all their works. Well maybe a boiler here and there for a museum effect but otherwise the reciprocating engines will be dummies for show. Don’t worry ’bout a thing we’ll take care of you.” He leaned against her superstructure by the bow luggage crane mounts. He felt indescribable resting on her, just touching and walking, no, gazing upon her made him feel mystical. Titanic felt warm inside when he leaned on her, she wanted to reach out and hold him but she couldn’t. The cranes wouldn’t move and they’d overtake him, he was too close. She enjoyed his company while she could.

New York City was abuzz with word Titanic was arriving. Thousands of people were on the piers, ferries, tugs, tankers, cargos, thousands cheering the hundred year old legend finally completing her journey.

“Wow, hundred and two years late and still the crowd.., it’s overwhelming! Are there any of my survivors in there?”

“No Titanic, the last survivor died in two thousand nine.”

“Who was it? They must have been very young when I went down.” Naughty thoughts entered his mind when she said went down.

“Miss Millvina Dean of England. She died at age ninety seven of illness; she was two months old and third class.”

“Pains me that I can remember the list but not a single face, no one’s. I guess it got the personal aspect of it out.” She sounded depressed about it.

“There are some movies about you.”

“Oooh, I’d like to see them!” The day was filled with excitement, Titanic survivors’ children appeared and told accounts of their parents’ struggles and stories, Titanic elaborated them to Bradley with surprising detail of the person’s cabin and class and even what boat they took off. During the night the ships were refueled and made heading for Pennsylvania docks. That night Titanic enjoyed a very sensual and very sexual dream about him and what he may look like, it was just what she needed.

The day she was put into the cradle in dock was the day she… felt the most pain.

“Bradley! Oh curses Bradley!”

“What!? What’s wrong!?”

“This! is! the! worst! pain!!!” She was having her aft removed at the droop to rebuild it level and to reattach the stern section.

“You said quote ‘bring it on! I’ve been ripped in half and smashed against the floor’ end quote!”

“I know and I take it all back!” She was done with the removal that night and she shivered in her cradle until the shift ended for the third round of yard workers, and the fourth round began removing less attached things like her anchors and decking and interior for remodeling and restructuring. All the while by her side was Bradley either awake or napping he was there for her. It took two months for her interior to be cleaned out and fixed up structurally. Her face of the forward superstructure was removed entirely and replaced, including the wheelhouse, with relative quickness.

“Bradley dear, I feel, different…” He climbed over the bridge wing wall onto a scaffold and moved to her new bridge windows and life’s an eyelid for her.

“Bradley… Is, is that you?” She was astonished, her large blue eye dilated to focus on him before she gained control of her other eye. Her eyes were beautiful; they took Bradley’s breath away.

“Yes, it’s me Titanic.”

“You’re a hunk.” He blushed. “I thought you looked dreamy in my mind but this is better than I hoped.”

“Now you can see, and speak and taste.”

“What do you mea-” she heard herself from right below her eyes. “Wha-I have a mouth? Where!?”

“It’s on the face of the first class promenade deck A, below your eyes. Not on the window wall but on the railing wall right below the deck so it’s in its own little room.” He noticed she was playing with her tongue. “Like it?”

“I do, I do indeed. Mmm I taste good.” The stern section was cleaned out and all of the de-shaped panels were removed. They were moved together and after a hundred and two years and two months the hull sections were welded and bolted back together.

“Oh Bradley this is astonishing! I have my stern back!” He was told later that her propellers were turning slowly and the rudder was waving port and starboard when they reattached it. Over the next year her hull was built up again and halted only just above the waterline to install her dummy engines and boilers and also to install her new modern turbines and power plant before it resumed its steady course. Once the hull and inner structures and supports were erected the labor force turned attention to installing piping such as general plumbing, wiring, her piping and plumbing, and a few other appliances. While the workers were starting this Titanic was given a full synopsis of what changes were made to her hull.

“We started off by refurbishing worn parts and reinforcing your hull. You may not have known but you had large weak spots along your hull that proved to be fatal. One instance is the bow and stern, here your rivets, a weak flaw in themselves, were shaped by man and not the pneumatic jack for your aft section and thus they were even more prone to breaking. Another key design was the reason your hull broke in half, the hull break for the flexing ended like a blade. This sends all the force of the flexing downwards into the hull where it ripped. We compensated for this by putting a round hole at the bottom where the force is translated into the surrounding area evenly. Probably the most recognizable flaw was the water tight bulkheads; they weren’t sealed at the top. For your information we are sealing them now.” The man was too well dressed to have personally overseen any of the work and he had a whole blueprint map of her.

“What happens if it all fails, professor?”

“Excuse me ma’am?”

“When it all fails, the doors don’t shut, the hull tears, and I split, what’s the backup plan? How do you get everyone off?” He pushed his glasses up on his nose and wrinkled his nose.

“Well…” He fumbled in his briefcase and pulled out another map. “We’re doing what they did to Britannic.” She looked at the map and saw what looked like the original designs that Mister Anderson had for her with lifeboats all along the boat deck.

“Aw, Mister Andrews.”

“No, I’m Hector… Oh! You mean… okay I got you. Yes lifeboats will be along the boat deck but since you’re a traveling museum the ones you didn’t have during your voyage will be folded down and the collapsible boats tucked away and pulled out for the open seas.” She seemed satisfied. With that off note Hector packed up and left.

“He stuck out like a sore thumb, didn’t he Titanic?”

“Yes he certainly did. Damn you Ismay you bastard!” She sounded upset.

“Titanic there was nothing to be done, you were sinking no matter what and you know that.”

“I don’t care that I sank, dear, but that bastard took away the lifeboats and snuck off like a coward!”

“And he paid for it. Don’t worry about him he got what was coming to him.” She unraveled her new manipulators and hugged him, bringing him to her bow luggage crane base where he embraced the large base to comfort her.

The next year of work was relaunching her with honors, fixing the smokestacks, masts, replacing the crow’s nest, compass platform, docking bridge, and the original anchors put back in place while the internal fitting furnished to their original looks and inserted antique appliances for the museum appeal while at the same time adding modern conveniences such as new elevators, lighting, telephones, some televisions to show accounts and documentaries, ovens, microwaves, fridgerators and improved AC units. Other new equipment included a radar station, GPS mapping and navigation, improved bridge controls, sonar, an internal speaker system, along with fire management stations. Areas were reserved for the museum as well as the original rooms for display, some third class cabins above the point the iceberg pierced her hull were made into a cold room with the recorded outside temperature and an ice wall simulating the iceberg’s temperature the night she sank as well as a box of freezing water the doomed souls drowned in. All over her were cabins and stations converted to museums with artifacts, models, examples, pictures, paintings and stories.

“So Titanic, how’s it feel to be a traveling museum?”

“Thrilling, dear. Think about it; I finally get my sailing career, I get to see the world and its people, and best of all I get to teach the world my lesson and story.”

“The world has learned much from you already.”

“That’s swell, nothing’s happened as bad as mine, then?”

“I wish it were true. There’s the Lusitania, Andrea Doria, and th-”

“Lusitania!? What happened to her?”

“She was torpedoed off the coast of Ireland in the First World War. She was fine until the second explosion happened and she went down in about fifteen minutes.”

“How fifteen minutes!? I was riddled with holes everywhere and I took maybe three hours to sink, and we reopened the doors!”

“Mysteries, mysteries. Many believe that second explosion caused leaks everywhere and possibly that the hole was bigger than we believe. She’s lying on her holed side so it’s hard to know.”

“How is she?”

“Target practice.” He said is coldly. She’s been used for target practice by various navies and so many fishing nets have snagged her that her superstructure is unrecognizable.

“Poor thing.” Only after two years and five months Titanic was fully repaired, restored, and ready for her second set of trial runs. She was towed out to sea taking in the view of the ocean rolling across the horizon. Bradley was next to her bridge on the starboard wing with a tablet loaded with all the documentaries about her. She’s wanted to see what made her legend and mystery and spent the majority of the four day trial runs calmly watching all of them, only out bursting at the angle they believed her to break. It was learned after the majority of documentaries and after the movies that she broke at a roughly 30-35 degree angle and not the high 60 degree angle that was once thought. She wasn’t too embarrassed or offended by any of it but was flattered that she had that much recognition.

“I was claimed ‘virtually unsinkable’ and the public declared me unsinkable. I wasn’t the largest for long, never planned to be nor turned out to be, so why did I have that much influence on the world? I don’t feel like I deserve this privilege dear.”

“You’re just shrouded in mystery, legend, and confusion. Then you were the reason so many safety laws were implemented into the ship world, you may not see it but you changed the world as it was known.” She blushed with her side wall on the bridge turning a gray hue as she hugged him close to her wall. All that was left in her plans was time.

The night after she got back she was left alone on a dark pier against the moon waiting for Bradley to return. He’d go to get the schedule book for the upcoming travel back to New York City for her first destination but she was only thinking of Bradley. He was always there for her, from the first talk in that cursed black abyss to her emotional trip to New York, from the pain filled screaming of being ripped apart to the day she first saw him he was always there and did anything she asked of him, whether it be a badly missed spot in rust or collecting all those movies for her, he did it all immediately and faithfully. She figured she loved him in the beginning because it was the first man she’d talked to in a century but as the months rolled on he seemed more and more enjoyable and lovable. He was hot, devotional, charismatic, affectionate, caring and all around appealing to her. She spotted him descending down the drive in his little car and hoped he’d been feeling the same towards her, that he was always there for her as a character and not for what time and people had made her.

Bradley drove down the road with thoughts running through his head. He’d been attracted to her forever but when he found that she was special in the sense she was built as a living ship kicked his want for her up but that wasn’t emotional but more interested in her story, but that changed when he talked to her in the sub. He’d been having even more sexual dreams of her since they spoke and his mixed emotions of lust, interest, and business were at an all-time high. Dammit I can’t take it anymore! I’m asking her tonight to end this shit cold. Yeah I’ll ask her but, would I take her answer alright? He wondered to himself. As he saw the giant obelisk against the full moon’s light he set his mind and would try to be professional about it. Still he wondered why was she so paranoid around her fantail area above the rudder? She also wanted a few manipulators there, too. Why?

He parked the car and climbed the rise to the first class gangway and crossed over into the first class reception room, ascended the magnificent grand staircase, exited to the boat deck and walked to the bridge. The moonlight shone on her starboard side tinging her white superstructure a blue and shining in her beautiful blue eyes. He adored her eyes, they really fit her well.

She watched him walk towards her bridge with his tan skin glistening in the blue moonlight. She could see his muscles flexing their power as he took great strides against the wind. His hair looked neatly groomed into a wave going over his left eye, and his brown eyes seemed to bear whatever trouble he confronted without flinching. He handed her the schedule book and checked his phone on that email he got earlier. It was from his friend still working with Britannic overseas, he read it as she went over the schedule.

Hey bro heard the Titanic’s running again! Britannic’s a little excited about that and speaking of her; you know how we’ve been for the past year, right? Well we’ve moved it up a level. We fucked! Now it was a little awkward and wasn’t long because of my air supply and she was on the floor but, damn was she tight! You jealous, bro? I’ll paint you a picture: her rust was sprayed away a while back and she’s on her side, right, and her vag was right above her rudder on the fantail and it was so fucking tight!

It went on but he needed no more from that, he’d read it later. He noticed she was on the last page and determined this would be the right time, he just hoped she wouldn’t notice his Jiminy Cocket rising in his pants.

“So it seems I’ll be left alone this night, Bradley.” She started first unaware of his intentions. “You’ve always been there for me faithfully without a request of your own.” There was a pause; Bradley wasn’t too sure what she was going to do next. “You’re so sweet and always kind and helping, so tolerant and friendly… and I wanted you to do this before, but, would you take me tonight?” He was speechless, he’d only wanted to ask her on her feelings and she’s moved on to sex already, he couldn’t believe it. “You don’t have to do this Bradley,” she said hiding her fear and sadness of his declining answer, her eyes drifting gaze down toward the deck, “I’d understand.”

“No-no, I couldn’t say no to you, especially that!” She perked up and smiled even though he couldn’t see her smile.

“Well meet me at my fantail, darling!” She was quite excited, much like when she was being hauled to New York. He sprinted to the stairs, went down four decks to C deck, bolted to the third class open deck thanking the lord he memorized her decks and climbed to the poop deck and ran to the tail flag mast winded.

“I’m here!”

“A little winded, dear? That’s alright I’ll handle you as gently as you handle me dear.” She raised two manipulators over the stern rail to help undress him and carry him over and under her fantail. He loved the look of the fantail; it’s what makes these ships sexy. He looked at her hull and saw in the reflected light her vagina. It was right above her rudder alright, and was barely dripping a silver fluid already. She held on to him with more manipulators at the waist, chest, legs held a little spread, and holding his hands with hers while their arms were entangled together. “Guide it in, please dear?”

“I’ll guide it in, sweetheart.” He smirked as his proud member was lined up in his hand, he knew she was in for the ride of her life; his cock he measured not too long ago and measured at a little over seven inches and six inches around, well over the normal, and he knew she’d be tight. As he pressed his cock against her black painted slit and rubbed it up and down the surprisingly short opening. She’d wanted him for a while, and his touch shot through her giving her even more want for him. He could feel her joy through her arms and hands, her shivering and quivering prompted his lust to drive him and his strength. He could hear her moaning in the quiet night with the waves slipping against the dock and her hull. He watched as he strained his rock hard cock into her very tight vagina and listened as her moans grew louder.

“Oh Bradley you’re so huge!” He chuckled softly; he was only half way in and paused to breathe. She had just caught up to his feeling when Bradley pushed further in even more. He pushed deeper into her hot tunnel of pulling muscle trying to close back to its original size but was holding onto her lover to tight to where even the slick cum she excretes didn’t help the fluid motions. She moaned louder and louder for what seemed like forever in time and miles in his cock penetration, until she felt his warm flesh pressed against her lips and hull signaling he was that big, a monster of a cock in a tight tube. She loved every inch of him and his impressive size. She held him tight inside her and against her in an embrace; she felt his lips press against her hull in a kiss fashion. “Oh my God Bradley! I never imagined you this big inside me!” He pulled from kissing her hull and opened his eyes.

“I never thought you’d let me do this Titanic.” He looked down at her cum slowly rolling around the base of his cock.

“You’ve said you’ve dreamt of me many times, right darling?”

“Not like this exactly but yes I have. This is better than anything.”

“Well dear I’m yours tonight; do as you please my love.”

“Ravage you?” He asked flashing back to their flirting.

“Especially that, darling!” So he tried but her super tight pussy clung to him in a near painful manner. It took him some working but eventually she loosened just enough for him to slide, with effort, in and out to pound her just like he said. So he pounded her to the sound of her sexual pleas and cries, to her whimpering and moaning and groaning. He felt his coming on but didn’t want to leave her unsettled. He pulled all the way out and stunned her.

“Finished already darling? Please go on, please go on. Make me cum dear, please.”

“Lower me a little, I’ll finished don’t fret honey.” She did as he asked and he inserted his long middle finger into her depths and pulled it out and pushed it in to her oozing goodness, feeling her twitching and constrictions on him as he added his ring finger. Her smell was inviting him to taste her, and the look of her oozing throbbing pussy looked very edible to him. He yanked out his hand and dropped down into her where she yelped in surprise.

“Oh Bradley! Oh yes Bradley!” He slid his tongue in any out ferociously, lapping up her juices like a mad dog before suckling on her crease to pull her where he wanted her. “Bradley I’m close! I’m close Bradley!” He straightened himself and realigned his cock then stuffed it into her contracting pussy with a large portion of his strength used in the process.

“Oh God you’re so close I can feel it! OH Jesus!” He tried his best to finish both of them off, she felt like she’d lock him so tight in her she wouldn’t let go. Her chasm was growing smaller and smaller, her plush tube turning firm and gripping, her cries of love rising and rising.

“I love you Bradley! Oh God I love you Bradley! Cum! Cum my dear! I can feel you inside me and I want it! I want your cum!” He clenched as she moaned at her loudest and came all over his torso, fighting her harsh current and grip he pushed himself in one more time and held it no longer. He came with a long sigh that lasted the duration of his longest and strongest orgasm ever. The two of them kept pumping out cum for twenty seconds. Then she was soft again and dripping wet, he slowly pulled out with her ‘aww’ing in disappointment. He looked down and saw he left her a present, a cream pie.

“Mmm, I feel it dear, your little gift you left me. It feels so great, slowly eking out of me. A great cream pie wouldn’t you say?”

“Looks delectable.”

“Promise to come back, dear?”

“Of course, that was the best sex in the world; made to the best girl I’ve ever loved.”

“Aww, you’re making me blush dear.” She hoisted him back onto the poop deck. He gathered his clothes and decided he’d take the external route to the bridge. He descended the poop deck stairs to the third class open space, ascended the stairs near the second class lounge, climbed a ladder to the first class promenade deck A then he ascended another ladder to the boat deck. He made his way wearily to her bridge where she met him with a listing gaze.

“What a first date!”

“I think I’d prefer it this way.” She eyes his sweat glistening body with its thick and tan muscles dreaming of what power she could get that body to use on her. “I’ll do another go, I’ll lead this one dear, and you relax.” She caressed his cock back to his full size and swept him off his feet and over the bridge wing. He thought she’d use the vagina they installed under her bridge amidst the jumble of piping, the retractable one with more freedom but she passed that deck to the second class promenade deck B. He saw what she wanted with her tongue licking her lips. First she brought his lips to hers and they met and interlocked in a kiss, the best kiss he’s got and the only real one for her. After that she wet her lips again satisfied with his lips taste and set him up for her to suck on his beef stick. She slowly sank him into her mouth and used her tongue to lap at him and cradle his thick cock, sucking at him and caressing him with her tongue while fondling his testicles in her hand. He was in complete bliss.

“Ah Titanic, I don’t think life can get better than this.” She seemed interested. “Relaxing after a great day at sea, getting a blowjob from a beautiful and sexy marvel of the sea, and more sex upcoming, this is the best night ever.” She giggled and suckled on him a little more and licking his cock head with more umpf and enjoyment. He felt her bringing him closer and closer to his orgasm with such speed and her own enjoyment that he almost wanted to surprise her with his hot shot. But he didn’t due to his respect for her.

“Gaahh Titanic! Aaah I’m so close!” She sucked harder and stroked his shaft faster. He saw she wanted it and so he gave it to her, all eleven seconds of it. Her tongue was bombarded by his seamen in thick hot creamy globs for his whole orgasm time, she thoroughly enjoyed every morsel he came out by allowing it to thicken and curdle on her tongue before she merrily swallows his seamen.

“How was that dear?”

“Amazing! Seemed like you enjoyed it as much as I did.” She giggled and agreed. “Usually it doesn’t work like that.”

“What do you mean, dear?”

“We don’t go down on the first date.” He realized that terminology might not have been the best.

“I did. I sank on the first date, and I blew on the first date, too.” She smiled and kissed him again for a long while before placing him back on her bridge. “So I’m beat, do you care to spoon?”

“I’d love too, sweetie.” He started back towards the fantail as Titanic watched him walk down the boat deck.

“You’ve got a nice arse too, dear Bradley.” He smiled.

“Like we were made for each other.” He took his sweet time getting to her fantail, she’d made a hammock for him to sleep in and slung it around her fantail and gently slipped him in where he forced his massive cock into her tight, wet, hot and aching slit that craved his pleasure.

“Ahhh! Oh yes this is right! A big boy for a big girl, wouldn’t you say so Bradley love?”

“Perfect. Enjoy baby, goodnight and sleep tight.”

“Goodnight darling. Sweet dreams.” The two gradually gave into the sleep and enjoyed a very sensual sleep.

It was close to sunrise the next morning, Bradley was close to waking up and his limp meat still held tight by his lover began filling for the morning wood. His natural habit wanted to turn and toss in the makeshift bed, but her pussy held him up and prevented him from rolling over. His movements sparked sensations in their sexes, they enjoyed this morning sleep filling the cool air with blissful moans but the constant tightness around his cock and the rubbings brought him closer to his orgasm and started outright humping her. He picked up intensity, thinking he was in a wet dream, and fucked her with their moans and groans growing until he came unknowingly sending his seed deep into her vagina and some even into her soft metal womb where her receptors are. She felt a tingling in her deepest part of her vagina and felt her temperature rise. She woke from her sleep and felt him buried inside her and rock hard with the most tingling coming from his cock head. She opened her eyes at what it must mean and smiled wide and elated bearing her human copy teeth and hugged her sleeping love. Just before sunrise she sadly pulled him out of her fertilized vagina and cleaned him up and dressed him while he was asleep. She covered her dripping slit with her sliding metal plate and pressurized it before laying Bradley on a bench and calmly waking him up. He awoke and stretched, noticed he was clothed, and went to her bridge for a morning greeting.

“Good morning sweet heart. Sleep well?”

“I most certainly did, love, how did you?”

“Great, best sleep in my life.”

“Well,” she was going to tell him her thoughts about her possible pregnancy but wasn’t sure what he’d do. “I can tell you anything, right?”

“Anything.” She thought for a minute.

“Well, dear, you,” she couldn’t do it yet, “you’re the first to have seen that spot.”

“Well you said you were virgin so that was implied.”

“No, that wasn’t refitted or worked on. It hasn’t been opened in over a hundred years.” He reeled when it hit him. He was amazed; he literally fucked something considered antique and preserved.

“Are… are you alright, Titanic?”

“Hm hm hm yes dear, I’m better than ever.” He went in and ate some breakfast before returning to her bridge, the crew of historians, shipmen, cooks, engineers, officers and everyone else vital to a ship were boarding and finding their quarters, many with astonishment and disbelief in their eyes. This is when she decided it would be a good time.

“Bradley dear, I have a surprise for you.”

“Is it a good one or a bad one?” They were looking into one another’s eyes.

“It’s a good one dear.” She felt intense; she hoped he’d stay calm. “I think I’m pregnant!” She said this so cheery and merry, and she was excited and hoping but Bradley looked shocked, white in the face like he saw a ghost. She hugged him against her bridge tightly. “I think you’re a father now! Isn’t that great!?”

He was silent for a while thinking how he’d say to his boss that he knocked up the most legendary civil ship in existence. Titanic grew worried and asked him if he was alright. “Yes I’ll be fine, for now…”

“What’s wrong dear? Tell me it worries me, too, you like this.” She looked him in the eyes and silently pleaded with him to tell her.

“Huuh babe, it’s, it’s… it’s just, you’re beloved by so many and they expected you to travel around.”

“I can still travel, love, I’ll be fine.” She stroked his cheek with her hand comfortingly.

“I’m also worried how we’ll support the child.”  She continued to stoke his cheek and look at him with calm eyes.

“Bradley my dearest, we’ll be fine. Now I know this to be true; but that isn’t the last thing worrying you, is it?”

“No it’s not. You see times are tense; there are many more living machines, but they aren’t known to the general populous. There are those who know and support them then there’s those who know and don’t believe that they should exist but some of them aren’t aggressive towards the ones that exist already while both groups have a sect completely against our relationship. They’re violent towards us. If this word spreads you’ll be in danger. I don’t want you to be in danger nor our child.”

“Bradley dear, that’s our decision, not theirs. If we want a child it’s our plan and they have to learn to accept it. Don’t let them worry you, baby.” She brought him back to a warm embrace against her wall. He cheered up soon after that, just after 10:00 AM Titanic was tugged out of harbor where she steamed under her own power out to sea enjoying the feeling of many people inside her navigating her labyrinth passageways and the feeling of power reverberating through her hull as her new turbines turned her massive triple screws. She felt the touch of the helmsman at the ship’s wheel and the radio chatter on her new up to date radio system. Most importantly to her she felt Bradley on her bridge wing gazing out into the ocean sea with her. It took two days to make a sweep out to sea then back inwards toward New York Harbor and when she reached the port the docks, tugs, piers, ferries and ships were lined with spectators to watch what could have been over a hundred and five years ago. They saw the massive elegant and majestic ship glide smoothly into the harbor and gently nudged by tugs to the pier she was expected at all those years ago. Her white top glistened bright in the sun, her four tall and thick smokestacks rose above the cargo ships and tankers in the harbor while her two masts stood against the sky to pierce the clouds almost. Her long and tall black hull shrouded the pier in a shade that relieved many bystanders of the baking sun. The gangways and rises moved to meet her hull doors with most going to the upper class entries located on C deck with a few going to third class areas. Hundreds of people poured into the liner to see the legend as it was in her heyday; Titanic herself spoke to them, stunning a few people that she was alive but most people were fine with her. She told stories and her accounts at every stop; from New York to Liverpool, Canada to Italy, and America to Poland she sailed all around finally living out her sailing career. She pressured Bradley to tell the boss and the Captain about her confirmed pregnancy to which the Captain applauded for her moving on in life and where the boss freaked out. Titanic assured him that it would be of a humorph, saying Bradley was feeding her nightly with a seductive tone. It didn’t help the boss calm down but Titanic protected Bradley from his wrath until he cooled off. When he came back down to Earth he learned how much longer until their child was expected and assured them they picked a good time to start; the two week period of expectancy they would be in wet docks for checkups.

The next four months flew by with seemingly much more work, and the night they entered the wet dock Titanic brought Bradley close to her lips to kiss him and whisper in his ear she felt the baby kicking in her boiler. Her boilers had been repurposed as her main womb and connected to her original shortly after they revealed her pregnancy, moving the fetus from the original to the new was very loud and painful. He rushed down to the boiler chamber and pressed the side of his head to the boiler wall and felt slight movement. My baby’s alive and in there! In momma’s belly! He closed his eyes to try feeling his child in her womb but got little kicks to his cheek.

Titanic chuckled, “it’s kicking you dear! It doesn’t like you waking it!” He backed away looking like he saw God. “It’s calming down now, dear, let it sleep. You’ll have plenty time when it’s out.” He went back to her bridge and kissed right next to her starboard eye.

“Our baby will be beautiful.”

“No matter what it will.” They embraced in a hug and daydreamed of all the things they’ll do with it. Three days later Titanic brought him close to her lips and kissed him then excitedly and hurriedly talked to him. “It’s coming, dear. Hurry! It’s coming! Go!”

“Oh God!” He kept mumbling under his breath as he raced through the halls and stairs and ladders, sprinting the equivalent of a football field faster than any track stars he knew, or at least it seemed, and only stopped when he was at the boiler in boiler room two. He manhandled the coal fire door open and saw the womb opening tucked in the bunker above the coal stash. He climbed in and laid on his back to carry out their wonder. “I’m here! I’m here! Titanic I’m here!”

She immediately started grunted and heaving. It seemed like forever for them, excruciating pain for Titanic and an endless killer wait for Bradley. Titanic started swearing, shocking Bradley because she’d never sworn before, then before his eyes he saw a silver-gray ball emerge from Titanic’s delivery hole. He reached up and touched it with his hand, it was hot, malleable, and wet, Titanic pushed some more and he could see a head emerge from the womb. He egged on Titanic to keep going to which she swore at him.

“I’ll take my own Goddamn time Bradley!” She heaved and pushed again, spitting out a human baby to the stomach. Bradley cradled his child in his arms where it laid on its back; she pushed for the final stretch and out came the legs. It was tucked in the fetal but once it was out the little one stretched out and squirmed. Bradley twisted the umbilical cord and with a pop and a whir it released and wound back into her stretch and aching womb.

“Oh God, Titanic, it’s beautiful!” He sat in the orange-red glow of LEDs that lit up the boiler like firelight, admiring and holding this gray metal and flesh covered miracle in his arms. He rolled it over and held it feet up and spanked its little rump once and was satisfied when it started crying out. He went right back to holding it in his arms.

“Bradley I wish to see! Bradley please bring it up!” He climbed out and carefully wrapped up the baby in a heavy blanket and made his way up to the bridge.

“It’s a girl! It’s a girl!” He ran from the first class boat deck doors to the bridge hollering this all the way. He got to Titanic with her outstretched arms beckoning for their baby out of breath. “It’s a girl, darling!”

“She wore you out already?” She held her in loving and tendering arms.

“She’s like twenty pounds!” He leaned in to stare at his daughter in its mother’s arms. She brought the trio close around and asked the question.

“What’s her name?” There was a tense silence as Bradley looked to the sunrise in awe of the simple things of life and especially the vibrant colors in the sky.

“Violet, how’s Violet sound?”

“Lovely. Absolutely lovely, dear.”

“So our daughter will be named Violet.” He looked into Violet’s eyes. “Do you see her eyes honey!? They’re so beautiful!” Violet had golden- yellow eyes with a dark yellow ring around the pupils. She looked into her parents eyes and stretched her arms out for mother’s milk, groping out cries. Titanic slid a hose and nozzle to Violet’s mouth and let her slurp up her fill.

News that Titanic was alive spread quickly when she first appeared and news of her child spread even quicker, and as if they didn’t have enough threats from radicals coming in even more poured into the office unbeknownst to Titanic. All the mail demanding her gone or scrapped now included the child, this upset Bradley greatly. Once Titanic heard the threats to her she seemed unmoved, but threats to her daughter angered her, and the threats to the father worried her; she wanted Bradley to be as safe as possible.

“Bradley, love?” She seemed tense.

“Yes sweetie?” He was holding Violet in his arms with her little hand holding his index finger.

“The threats worry me.”

“They worry me too, sweetie.”

“I don’t want to lose you. I want you to have the best chances.” There was a pause. “I want to convert you.” She said in a sulking tone. They were silent, even Violet was silent in the tense air.

“I will.”

“You know it hurts, right dear?”

“Yes. But it won’t compare to if you two lost me. Let’s get this over with.” She took the baby and took it inside before she prepped the injectors. She pushed it into him, he felt holed. She started to fill him up with the syrup, he felt its icy painful spread, slowly filling the entry points and spilling into other areas. She held him to quit his shaking and covered his mouth so he wouldn’t scream, he felt hopeless in stopping it with no way of moving to escape. She bent his legs and brought him down to sit on the deck leaning against the wall, he felt himself  getting heavier and break at his legs that gave him a plummet down to the cold floor suspended up by his will to go on. Then it was all over, all the pain, panic, hurt and disbelief, it was over.

“Are you alright dear?” She sounded the most concerned she’s ever sounded, almost with a deathly tone.

“So is that how it felt?” She sat in thought.

“Yes, it’s terrible isn’t it?”

“The worst feeling, I’m deeply sorry, sweetie.”

“It’s alright. Violet fell asleep, you wore her out.” He got up shakily and slowly adjusting to his new composition. Titanic saw the physical changes in his veins and in his finger nails along with parts of his mouth.

“We leave soon, right?”

“Yes tomorrow morning, dear. Why?”

“I have to make a few errands real quick, I’ll be back soon.” He kissed her then made his way to the rental sedan and drove off to the city. Titanic worried for the entire time he was gone but played with Violet unaffected. After about four hours it was well after dark and Titanic had put Violet in her crib and rocked her to sleep when Bradley returned.

“Bradley dear you missed it!”

“What did I miss?”

“Violet said her first words! It was Muma!”

“Dammit, I wish I was there honey.” He carried on a back pack and a few long bulky cases.

“What did you get, dear?”

“Nah, don’t worry yourself over this. Let’s just hope I’ll never use this.” As he passed by he kissed her then went to his cabin in the officers’ quarters behind the bridge where Violet was asleep in her crib in an adjacent room. He leaned in and kissed her on her forehead then pulled back to stare at her, the way all fathers do with their baby girls. He put the cases on the floor and the back pack in the closet.

“I’m pooped out, dear. I’m going to sleep, goodnight, love.”

“Sweet dreams honey.” After she fell asleep and the gentle hum of her breath sounded from her Bradley pulled out a paper from his back pocket and read it in his mind for the hundredth time insulting his wife by name, his baby by name, and him by name, and threatened each of them by name. He threw it down and opened up the case on the floor then inspected a government issue full-automatic AR-15 with reflex sights, flashlight-fore grip combo with a green laser light and suppressor, then looked back to Violet in her crib.

“Whoever they are, where ever they are, whatever they are… they will not harm you or mom, my precious Violet.” He finished his inspection and replaced the rifle in the case before closing it and sliding it under the bed before opening the back pack to fill up thirty round magazines and place the chicken plates in the vest and tuck them away under the bed. Then he kissed Violet’s fore head and Titanic’s wall goodnight before closing Violet’s door and climbed under the covers to a waiting surprise in his bed wanting his cock.

He slipped himself in, wishing it was like her original one, but enjoyed her resistance she did have even if she wasn’t as tight as her original one, and gently slid in and out of her soft, hot, soaked tendril pussy as his hand played with her clit bump. He knew if he came here it won’t go anywhere at all, she wasn’t pregnant and wouldn’t be susceptible to impregnation for another month at least so he could enjoy her pleasure all he wanted. He slid in and out hard and deliberate, pinching and toying with her clit the whole time while she became tighter and wetter as she was leaking out onto the bed while he was stiffening and throbbing more. They were growing closer and closer, when it was the teetering point he grabbed her and pulled her and pushed her into his crotch where she came sending him into his orgasm. He enjoyed the eleven second orgasm and savored the slow pulses Titanic was exerting on his crotch, firmly pumping out her cum onto his crotch. He was enveloped in her loving arms.

“You sure know how to show a tired mum a good time, love.”

“I thought you were asleep, sweetie.”

“I was, but then you climbed in.” She seductively said. “Oh I wish you could scramble on back to my fantail and really give it to me, Bradley.”

“That night was the best sex.”

“Oh no doubt there!” She grew naughty in the mind; she quickly swept over the people on board to feel where they were and how active they were. “Well dear… everyone is sound asleep on board…” She felt his body in bed, skimming over his powerful body and dreaming of that night.

“Are they?” He smiled mischievously. He got up and dressed in a over coat, pants, and over wear so he could slip in afterwards to evade and curious minds and left for the fantail. The moon shone bright overhead in its full bloom, perfectly lighting up his way across the deck area not lit by the ships lights always on for any late night strollers. Like he was. And he quickly reached her fantail where he hid the clothes and hopped over into her awaiting arms that swept him down to the source of a silver wet stream.

He wasted no time as he forced his huge mass of cock into her extremely tight void. Just as before all her juices did nothing to help the grip slacken as it was too tight, instead it concentrated together to form a gelatinous feeling around his cock to which both parties enjoyed dearly. Her hot cream slithered over his dick as he drove deeper inside and it pushed on her walls and his stick, giving both a greater rush.

“Oh Bradley baby! It feels you’ve gotten bigger!” She said to him through her old way as his journey inside ended at his hilt.

“You’ve gotten tighter babe!” He pulled out slowly with more power than before but the juices sucked him in and didn’t give easy at all. He finally broke its grasp when she spoke to him again.

“Oh Bradley! Oh pardon me but I want you to FUCK me raw!” He was pleasantly surprised.

“Oh you are a dirty girl! Well if you insist.” He forced his way through displacing loads of her juices out to make room for himself with Titanic’s moans and loving remarks circling his head. He swamped in and out causing her to gush out juices thickening the pre-existing stream. He pushed hard and fast with a quickening pace until all his might went into pleasing his lover who praised him and his manhood until her mental cries reached a maximum and her pussy hardened and quivered around his love. He realized how close he was and mentally cursed it, Titanic heard it and begged him to cum inside her while he could and as he said before, he did as she wanted. She felt his ho’s tingly seed spew all over her insides. She loved him, loved him more than any other being that wasn’t Violet, and as she recouped from his explosion of love juice she wanted no one to dare come between them. No one, no one in the world. Nothing in the world will come between them, even. She’ll assure that. She whined and whimpered as he pulled out of her but knew so much he wanted to bury himself in her again and spoon the rest of time away with her but tonight he had a special gift for her.

“So darling, you’ve eaten me plenty over our course of love and I only licked you what, a total of once in return? Well I’m going to start my eating of you tonight.”

“Bradley dear, you don’t have too. I’m just as happy with you inside my pussy than anything.”

“Think of it more as a thank you for strengthening me and giving me a wonderful wife and daughter.” With that he absorbed her pussy into his mouth tasting her addictive juices and lips that craved his manhood’s pounding, her moans and whimpers alone gave away her lying when she said the dick pounding was just as good. He knew this was better. He felt her fumbling with his dick probably trying to caress it but her jerky hands gave away her lack of functional thought because of him. Still, even her touching his dick made her even more wet so that it poured onto his face. He reached up to the sides of her goodness and tried to stretch her walls open with his palms.

“Here, love. Try this.” She moved his fingers to inside her vulva where he opened her up and saw just how tight she really was. Her vagina only opened about a fourth or maybe a half inch where he was two and a half inches wide and an inch thick, he saw where her intense pleasure came from. Nonetheless he stuffed his lips and tongue to it and slid his tongue inside her carefully, he then began to prance around inside her tight pussy tube. She felt his tongue slip and slide inside her, it felt so surreal and mystical she wanted to check if it was really his tongue. She felt his tongue stretch to reach deep and slacken to find her good spot, which it did. “Bingo Bradley! Right there!”

“Mmmhmm.” He stroked it and stroked it, rubbed it and rubbed it, until she was pinching his tongue to the point he was forced out. He finished her at her clit where he circled and swept across rapidly, bringing her mass of metal flesh there to quiver, shake, and release. She came into his awaiting mouth but neither unrestrained nor clogged up it came out more violently than Bradley anticipated and it swamped his face as well. She squirted out short streaks after the main blast making Bradley think the British designers really know how to make ’em and wonder about his friend with Britannic. Then he remembered another surprise for Titanic.

“Oh Bradley now you’ve worn me out, I’m done for the night dear.” She carried him back onto the poop deck with shaky arms and dumped him on the bench. He moped about as he dressed.

“I just remembered another little surprise, honey.”

“What is it, dear?”

“Allow me to tell you eye to eye.” He worked his way to her bridge in the moonlight that made her white superstructure appear a blue hue so beautiful he took time to enjoy it all. He got to her curious big blue beautiful eye and got real close.

“Will you tell me now, dear?”

“Next week, after you meet my parents and after we travel across the Atlantic, there’s a certain someone waiting to see you.”

“You’re my only lover, I’m confused, dear. Please elaborate.”

“Mediterranean Sea… World War I… rammed a mine.”

“Thinking, I’m thinking, Britannic?”

“You got it.” Her eye shot open and he knew she had a huge smile across her face.

“Britannic! Oh I finally get to see her in reality! Oh Bradley thank you!” She hugged him against her bridge and didn’t let go.

“She was raised last month, she’s in worse condition than you, which is why she was started before you so you two would be ready in… relevant time. I’m not sure how three years is relevant time but that’s what ended up happening. Her reconstruction is going a lot smoother than yours did, love, and she’s expected to trial by December this year, only a few months.”

“That’s wonderful! Where is she being fixed up at?”

“They took her all the way back to Liverpool.”

The next morning they set out right on schedule for Maine, Bradley’s home state, and arrived with no delays. Within an hour of docking Bradley spotted his parents in the crowd and rushed down to meet them at the auxiliary gangway. His father resembled him almost exactly excluding his scruffy beard and whitening black hair while his mother was short with Auburn hair and a grandmotherly face that screamed British parents.

“Permission to come aboard, Captain?” His father had a withered sailor’s voice filled with experience.

“Well dad I’m not the captain, but Titanic said you’re welcomed aboard and she overrules all so come aboard.”

“Thank you Bradley, will you guide us through? You know how easy I get lost in the mall so this would be a nightmare for me to find around.” She had an aged voice with a soothing tone that always calmed someone in turmoil. He guided them to the foredeck where his father spotted something.

“The knots wrong.” He undid a docking tether on the ballads and quickly built the proper knot with age not slowing his movements at all.

“You’re father seems quite the sailor, dear.” Titanic said. “You look a lot like your son, sir.”

“Well I’ll be damned. Thank you ma’am, after all the years you still have your accent.”

“Yes he’s quite the sailor, retired as a captain in the Navy. He’s no stranger to the sea.” Mrs. Sanderson said.

“Mrs. Sanderson are you perhaps British?”

“I am indeed. My father served the Royal Navy aboard the Hood.”

“Is he still in Britain?”

“Oh yes, still at the bottom.”

“The bottom, Mrs?”

“Oh you must not know, the Hood was the pride of the Royal Navy when she floated, but she was sunk in ’41 by the K.M.S. Bismarck. All but two lost in a matter of minutes.”

“Oh I’m terribly sorry, Mrs. Sanderson.”

“Ah don’t worry! I never met him.” They talked for a while then Titanic asked if they wanted to see the baby and Bradley didn’t take no for an answer nor waited for an answer as he pushed them through the door to get to the bridge. He tried to hurry them through Titanic’s vast and luxurious halls but they tended to meander and laze through. Titanic slowed Bradley down to let them enjoy themselves. Let them stroll, Violets going to be here a while. He finally got them through it all and to the crib on the starboard bridge wing where Violet was making playful noises and playing with Titanic’s hand. Mrs. Sanderson rushed up in joy to see the baby and once she peeked over Violet saw her and went silent and wide eyed just staring at her.

“Aw, Violet that’s just grandmum, say hello Violet.” Mr. Sanderson looked into the cradle and his breath was taken away by Violet.

“She’s just like you, Bradley.”

“How?” He was confused by it; he saw a lot of himself in her but not in her actions.

“She did exactly what you did when you saw Pap Pap and Mammy; you locked up and sat there just like she did.” Titanic pulled Violet out of the crib and asked if they’d like to hold her.

“Aaww come to Gran Gran little Violet.” Mrs. Sanderson reached out and carefully accepted her into her arms. She leaned left and right as she gently bounced Violet in her arms. “Wow you’re heavier than you look, Violet.”

“Might be my fault.” Titanic said, she watched to see and indication that Mrs. Sanderson was tiring and found none.

“Granddad come get little Violet to laugh.” Mr. Sanderson came over and gently stroked her head before he moved his thick fingers down to collarbone and tickled her there. Violet erupted in giggles and squirmed around. “There you are baby! See we aren’t bad.”

“Here let me hold her.” Mr. Sanderson picked up a social Violet and commented on her weight.

“She was nineteen pounds.” Bradley said proudly.

“That’s more than double what you were!” His mother said surprised. “You were eight and a half pounds, and I thought you were big.” Mr. Sanderson looked at the small pink crib.

“Do you need anything? We brought our old mobile in the trunk. It’s old and dusty but it works well. We’ve got blankets, monitors and lullaby winds.”

“No thank you, I’ve always got an eye on her wherever she is and I rock her to sleep easy. They’re just perks of living on the seas.”

“Violet has never actually been on land before.”

“Good, keep her close as long as you can.” They talked for the rest of the day, Mr. and Mrs. Sanderson pressured them into taking the blankets and some old girl baby clothes.

“So dear, where did your parents get the old girl baby clothes?”

“I had a sister.”

Have a sister.”

“No, had. I had a sister.” There was an awkward silence, Titanic wanted to bring up his sister but didn’t want to upset him. “Her name was Tatiana; she was three years older than me. She joined the Army after she graduated and was put in as an E2 because of her high school ROTC program perks and ranked up quickly. She was on patrol with her squad when her Humvee ran over an IED. She died instantly from shrapnel. I could barely bring myself to her burial with honors and I couldn’t hold myself together at the ceremony. I had so much rage, so much doubt, I was lost. I wanted to join up and kill every terrorist yet at the same time I wanted to lay in bed forever and do nothing. I climbed out of my depression and joined MPS and that’s how I got to you.” She hugged him and held Violet close to them both.

“I’m so sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Well it’s twenty sixteen now and she died in two thousand one so that was fifteen years ago. I’ve moved on. I’m fine.” She held him tight.

“If you need anything, anything at all, dear, tell me. I’ll always be here for you.”

“And I’m here for you.” The next two days they brought back the grandparents who edged them to go on and live their lives but agreed to come back after countless calls. Once ship out day came the grandparents waved them off as they left port.

“Dear… how did they react so calmly to me? Most people were not ready for my awakening.”

“Well, it’s the same with me; we had a neighbor who had a Sherman couple from the war. They visited every other year so we adjusted to them over time. Actually I grew up with them around every other year so I was surprised when I learned most people didn’t know about them.”

“Oh, they tell stories? Where did they live?”

“Yeah they told lots of stories. They live down in Florida on an old base.”

“Think we could get some vacation time and visit? Never really been that south, dear.”

“We’ll see.” They trekked onward into the Atlantic, dreaming of the future as they went to meet Britannic in her docks at Liverpool. Titanic looked through many pictures of Britannic afloat and sunk trying to piece together what her little sister would look like. She waited and waited until she could see the coast of the Irish isle, then her excitement exploded and she steamed full ahead to her home. She had been there a few times since her resurfacing but seeing much more activity at the docks sent her over. She was swept out wide before pulled in by tugs to face the slipway. Britannic sat positioned bow outwards, unusual for a ship but mandatory in her case so the bow could have been pulled out and moved easier on the harbor than the slipway, they had reattached her bow fully and repainted her all white except for a green band running down her hull and red crosses on the band signaling she was a medical ship.

“Sister Britannic, are you there?” The last windows on the far port and starboard sides of the bridge house opened up to reveal gorgeous green eyes that matched her green belt. Her mouth opened in surprise showing her human style teeth.

“I can’t believe it…” Her voice was much like Titanic’s only a tad bit higher in pitch. “Olympic never quit jabbering on about you, wow. I, I, finally… after so long we see each other at last…” She was in disbelief, total confusion as to what to do. They sat in silence, admiring each other for a great deal of time. They did talk about their experiences, mostly Britannic which had more activity both afloat and sunk, and would pause after any mentioning of Olympic, as if it were a prayer to her acknowledging her absence. They talked, forever somehow, on what life was like back then. Bradley and Britannic’s lover Harold talked about raising, treatments, rebuilding, that entire sort of stuff. Bradley brought up Violet and Titanic instantly switched subjects.

“Did you know I had a baby?”

“Why yes, yes I did hear but I never saw her.” Titanic plucked Violet from the crib to feed her anyways while showing Britannic.

“Her name is Violet, Violet Miranda Sanderson. I had her earlier this year.”

“Well you two did a magnificent job! She’s adorable! Such an adorable little one!”

“Yes, yes, she’s our little angle she is.”

“Not even met my sister and she makes me an aunt! What a wonderful surprise!”

“So Britannic, why did they not paint you as a passenger ship?”

“Entirely my call, I asked them not to make me into a liner but to restore me to a medical ship. See I loved saving whoever I could during the war and I want to continue saving whoever needs my help in the now.” They talked on, and they silently wondered what Olympic would choose, her liner career, or her militant transport career. Then the two started to shed tears.

“Oh I wish Olympic was still around!”

“What if I said I could help!?” A man off to the side yelled. He was average height with red hair and eye catching eyes, he stood tall and proud with his arms crossed and a Manila folder under his left arm in his right hand.

“How might you help us, dear?”

“And who do-hell err you!?” Called Harold in his Irish twang.

“Do excuse me, I am Patelo!”

Fin TITANIC

Or is it? I will probably continue this before HaM. Where will it lead?

Hehehe there was a dirty joke at the first sex scene. :3 (HINT: the blow job scene)

Common notes for R.M.S. Titanic

a. 882 feet 11 inches long

b. 90 foot beam (wide)

c. 175 feet tall (keel to funnel tops)

d. displacement of 46,328 tons (Bismarck displaced 50,405 at battle load)

e. second ship in a line up of three: Olympic, Titanic, and a larger ship Gigantic but was canceled and scaled down and renamed as Britannic

f. R.M.S. means Royal Mail Steamer

g. Titanic lookout Fredrick Fleet spotted the Iceberg at 11:35 PM 103 years ago tonight

h. slipped under at approximately 02:20 am April 15th 103 years ago

i. she did split

j. only 705 souls escaped alive

k. Titanic actually had more lifeboats than required at the time, she could hold 1,178 in her lifeboats, 216 more than the 1/4 passenger count required (she had 16 full boats that can hold 65 and four collapsible that can hold 35)

l. Titanic wasn’t officially listed as “unsinkable” she was listed as “practically unsinkable” and the reporter headlines shortened it to “unsinkable” for appeal

m. Titanic had a triple screw (propeller) system and could reverse her port and starboard propellers independently in time of need

n. the central quad screw propeller was turbine driven

o. her two massive steam reciprocating engines stood four stories high and were 100 tons each

p. she had 29 boilers with 149 furnaces

q. the fourth smoke stack was for ventilation and appeal, the designers placed it there for looks only

r. her record speed was 24 knots

s. her max passenger count was 3,547 with crew included

t. she had at any given time more lookouts than any other ship on the oceans (2 per shift and 6 lookout specialists total)

u. the only surviving look out that spotted the iceberg was Fredrick Fleet whose ship was torpedoed in WWI and he drifted to allied recovery for three days (I think three days)

v. approximately 3,050,000 rivets in the hull (for you smart-asses)

Any more questions? Feel free to ask away!

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Feel better Krill.

kirillInternship is hard. I fucking know it now. Heres my interpretation of what you tried to explain to me that night.. A quick sketch for your existential machine sight, Sorry its kinda rough.  (For all those of you who are wondering, this destroyer is a “she”)

Also: CANT TALK, TOO BUSY BEING A HERO IN WAR THUNDER!!!flightclubGift for Jake the cake eating phantom:jakecake

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